by W J Hegarty
Even through the maelstrom, Garrett couldn’t mistake the distinctive crack from his rifle cutting through the torrent.
“That’s the way. Don’t let up, kid.” He smiled at the thought of Markus and Damon holding their ground.
Another carrier approached the front of the bus. Its shoulder blew apart upon impact. The severed limb tumbled through the air and out into the night. Garrett stood on the brake, sliding through the mud. The heavy bus took far longer than he anticipated to come to a stop. Garrett ran to the back, unlatched the rooftop emergency exit, and climbed halfway out. The rain was relentless in its pounding. He shielded his eyes with his free hand and took aim with the flare gun. The projectile cut through low-hanging branches to find its mark in a small opening near the treetops. It exploded brilliantly despite the downpour. The flare’s radiance could be seen miles away. His unit would have no trouble making it out, even under these conditions.
Garrett picked up his radio. “That should do it.”
“What was that?” Damon answered back.
“That’s a flare, son. It was for everyone else. Takashi and the others will know the gate’s open. I’m continuing on now. You did good, but I need you to keep your eyes on the gate for a few more minutes. Keep an eye out for any of those things that don’t follow me. Remember to conserve your ammo, though. If those fuckers want to head north and not enter town, let them, but if they even look at that gate, you put them down, understood?”
“Make it quick. I’m not going to stay up here much longer.”
“Affirmative. We’ll rendezvous shortly. Markus knows the plan, but if it gets too thick with these bastards, bug out. Are we clear?”
“Yeah, I hear you. Let’s do this already.”
“On my way. Garrett out.” Garrett threw the oversized vehicle into drive. He pulled the bus away slowly, making sure to gain the attention of as many infected as possible by flashing the headlights and using the horn. Some infected were crushed under the bus’s tires. Others still fell to sniper fire as Damon put down the few that seemed confused about whether to follow the bus or enter the newly exposed town. Garrett drove south along the outer perimeter of the berm, dozens of infected in tow as the bus disappeared into the storm. Pepperbush was wide open.
Inside Mother Leeds, Markus and the others listened to the exchange.
“There he goes. We’re on our own now.” Samantha paced the front of the bar, picking up supplies and putting them right back down.
“Don’t sweat it. Garrett knows what he’s doing. He’ll radio back soon. Then we’re getting out of here.” Markus tried to hide his trepidation as he peered through a window into the storm. A few blocks away, the gate remained relatively clear of infected.
Garrett continued down a barely-there fire road, gaining the attention of most of the infected that were otherwise headed for the gate. Not designed for off-road travel, the bus bounced violently on the rocks and bumps. Garrett momentarily lost control, slamming the back end of the bus into a tree. The impact shattered some windows and bent an axle. The determined soldier pressed on. Infected bounced off the bus. Several of their heads exploded in showers of gore. Others flew dozens of feet into the air only to come crashing down in twisted, broken heaps.
A large rock obscured by a bush sent the bus careening up the side of the berm. Garrett desperately tried to regain control of the vehicle, but it was moving too fast. The bus almost reached the top of the berm before falling on its side and rolling down the hill into a tree, tossing Garrett around the inside like a rag doll. His right leg and arm snapped from the impact. Most of the windows had broken out and his weapon was thrown to the back of the bus. His broken leg was twisted and trapped under the driver’s seat. Garrett couldn’t move. The disabled bus was quickly surrounded by infected shambling about outside the broken vehicle, moments from finding their way in.
Garrett rifled through the wreckage for his radio. “Garrett to Markus. You hear me, son? Come in.”
“I’m here, Garrett. Hey, I think it worked. We lost sight of the bus, but most of those things seemed like they were following you. How long until you get back to the road?”
“No time for that now. Listen to me, Markus. The gate’s opened, but there’s a ton more of those dead fuckers out here than I anticipated. You’ll have to go on without me. I’ll find another ride out of here. Don’t worry about me. Get going.”
“No fucking way! We’re coming for you, Garrett. We’ve got the time.”
“There is no time, Markus. Pack it up and go.”
“This doesn’t make sense. It’ll only take a second to come get you. What are you not telling me?”
“Moving this bus was always a one-way trip. Listen to me, son. A second is all it takes out here. One life or five. You said you could handle this, and you have so far, but prove it to me one more time. Get those people out of here, please.” Garrett sighed, praying for the correct response from the brash young man.
Markus bit his lip. He looked around the room at the expectant faces of Samantha and Ayn. Since his arrival in town weeks ago, the outpouring of kindness from its citizens instilled a sense of betterment in the man. He appreciated everything Pepperbush offered; they helped him and he helped them when he could. In that moment, he realized this was his chance to make a difference. He would do everything in his power to get these people to safety, even if it meant condemning Garrett to an uncertain fate.
“You can count on me, sir. Goodbye, Garrett.”
“Goodbye, Markus, and good luck.” Garrett gently sat his radio down on the seat beside him, his thumb firmly affixed to the open call button. He laid his head back on what remained of an armrest, stretching his neck just enough for cold rain to wash down his face. It was almost peaceful, he thought, for the briefest of moments as the cold fluid cooled his adrenaline-warmed skin. Heavy breathing slowed from a near pant to a calm rhythm. Garrett closed his eyes.
On Markus’s end of the radio, sounds of breaking glass and struggle were unmistakable before Garrett’s signal was lost.
“Markus, what did Garrett say? Is he on his way back yet?” Samantha grabbed Markus’s arm, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“Garrett’s gone, Samantha, and so are we. I’m pulling the car up now. Someone go get Damon. We’re out of here.” Markus would rather avoid the conversation altogether, but more than that, he didn’t want Samantha to take notice of his reddening eyes.
Earlier that evening, and in anticipation of a quick getaway, Garrett parked a sedan in front of the adjacent building, leaving the rooftop shooter a clear view of their escape vehicle. Directly in front of the bar and across the street, Markus approached the vehicle. The storm showed no sign of letting up. Pouring rain and high winds were making it difficult to see.
Markus was careful with his footing as the rain blowing sideways down Main Street threatened to tip him over. He held his arm up, attempting to impede the tiny droplets’ assault on his eyes. He was nearly there when he heard a crack. He looked up to see a carrier fall beside the gate. Three more were taking its place. He could barely see or hear through the gale but was certain their escape route was getting crowded. Time was a luxury they didn’t have.
Inside, the car was dry but nearly as loud as out in the street with the storm’s relentless pounding echoing throughout. The sedan turned over. Markus threw it in reverse. He stepped on the accelerator and strained to see his destination until he slammed into the front of the building, shattering the car’s rear window and tearing the bar’s door from its frame.
“Climb in. Let’s go. Hurry up!” Markus shouted while waving the others toward the broken window.
Samantha was the first to climb in, quickly followed by Ayn. Damon and Ryan soon followed. They handed the women the weapons, ammunition, and boxes of supplies before climbing in themselves.
“That’s it, man. Get the fuck out of here!” Damon shouted as he dove in through the back window.
Markus slammed it in drive and again
stepped on the accelerator. The tires spun, fighting for traction until finally they caught the sidewalk. With a few bumps, the car and its occupants were jostled back onto Main Street. Markus sped through debris-ridden streets, dodging wrecked vehicles and running down the random carrier until Samantha began hitting him in the shoulder and pointing up ahead of them.
“Wait, wait, look!” Samantha pointed across the street to an adjacent alley and a dark figure shuffling in their direction.
Vanessa stumbled from the alley, limping as fast as she could onto Main Street. She clenched her side with one hand, and with the other she desperately waved for Markus to stop. Even through the downpour, the occupants of the vehicle could see she was covered in blood, barefoot, and her shirt ripped to shreds. The girl was a mess and by all outward appearances didn’t look much better than the infected they were fleeing.
“Shit, keep going, man. She’s one of them!” Damon yelled as he reached around the vehicle, making sure the doors were locked.
“No fucking way am I leaving her!” Markus pulled the sedan up to about fifteen feet from Vanessa and flooded her with the high beams. He leaped from the car and out into the rain, ran to within a few feet of his friend, pulled his gun from his waist, and aimed it directly at Vanessa’s head. “Goddammit, Vanessa, say something! Is that you? If you’re still you, you got to let me know, girl! I can’t leave you like this. Please.”
“Fuck her, man. Get back in the goddamn car,” Damon yelled.
“Shut your fucking mouth, Damon!” Markus barked, never breaking eye contact with Vanessa.
Vanessa stumbled closer. Markus backed off a little, keeping in step with her. He chambered a round. His hands trembled. Vanessa’s mouth moved open and shut, though no sound escaped her lips. Markus’s finger edged closer to the trigger. Tears slid down his cheek, mingling with the rain.
“Please, Van, don’t make me do this,” he whispered as he fingered the trigger.
“Help me, Markus,” Vanessa finally managed before collapsing.
“Oh, thank God.” Markus was quick to catch her before she hit the ground. “Jesus Christ, you scared me, girl. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He smiled from ear to ear as he raced his friend back to the car.
Her head bobbed up and down as they ran. Her left arm dangled uselessly at her side. She struggled to keep her eyes open, fighting for consciousness all the way to the car.
Ayn opened the back door, welcoming the survivor to the relative safety of the small sedan. Vanessa squeezed into the already crowded back seat.
“Look at all this blood. Where are you hurt, honey?” Ayn asked. “Ryan, hand me a towel and some water.”
“I’m not,” said Vanessa.
“You’re not what, sweetheart?” Samantha used a damp rag, attempting to remove bloody matted clumps of hair from Vanessa’s face.
“Hurt. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood,” Vanessa muttered.
“What happened to you, Vanessa?” Markus asked.
She whispered, “I’m alive.” Vanessa turned her head away from the others to peer into the rainy darkness. Mother Leeds quickly grew smaller as they raced away. The car sped out of town as dozens of infected finally began pouring out of the alleyways and onto the east end of Main Street.
4:39 am - Security Headquarters
Sam’s command center was relatively quiet, save for the storm’s relentless pounding. Glen had arrived moments earlier after abandoning the north, his family in tow. At the radio, Takashi was attempting a channel-wide broadcast.
“Repeat, for everyone in broadcast range, this is Colonel Takashi. A second group of infected has breached the western wall and is currently overrunning the northern homes. I’ve been informed the church is a complete loss. The southern perimeter has fallen as well. Fall back. Repeat, fall back. We will soon find ourselves surrounded. To anyone still out there, I am officially calling the evac. Everyone, collect your people and bug out now. Rendezvous at previously determined coordinates. Takashi out.” Takashi slammed his radio against the desk, scattering maps and spilling coffee and bullets. The colonel’s developing frustration affirmed that Sam’s growing concern was well-founded. “Garrett said the church is in flames. Now he won’t respond. The safehouses up north are being torn apart as we speak. Half my unit is unaccounted for, and the other half is getting its ass kicked. For all I know, no one is even hearing the evac order. Shit, this whole operation has turned into a goddamned clusterfuck!”
“It’s bad out there, no doubt about it, sir. I sent Ron to get his family five minutes ago. You and your men did all you could, Colonel. It’s time to go.”
“Garrett should have the gate opened by now. Go on ahead, Sam. I’m sorry, but in a few minutes, there won’t be anything left of your town.”
“Come with me, sir. We can regroup at the highway, figure out our next move from there.”
“I can’t leave yet. Not until I’m sure my men aren’t coming.” Takashi returned his gaze to the storm.
“That’s suicide, man! What good are you to the ones who do make it if you’re dead, too?”
“You’re wasting time arguing with me, Sam.” Takashi wouldn’t budge.
“What is this, some sort of honor thing? The captain goes down with the ship type bullshit?”
Glen interrupted. “He’s right, Sam. It’s time for you to go. What you said to Takashi applies to you, too. The folks that make it out of here will need someone they trust to help organize. They all love you, Sam. They’ll need you. Besides, Takashi can ride with me. Bonnie’s out front with my boy, so you know I’m not staying. Five minutes and I’m dragging him out of here either way. Trust me, we won’t be far behind you. Now go.”
“Goddammit, fine. But I’m circling around the block for any survivors first. Five minutes. Don’t make me regret this, Glen.” Sam’s face had gone red. His long mustache began to tremble through the man’s ire. A sight neither Glen nor anyone else in town for that matter had seen in many years.
“I won’t. Now get out of here.” Glen nudged him toward the door. “Go.”
Sam stood in front of the building in the pouring rain, surveying Main Street for threats. Sporadic gunfire echoed over the storm, screaming and moans seemingly coming from every direction. To his east, Garrett’s flare was finally disappearing below the tree line. Far off to the west, despite the downpour, the church burned bright, an ominous sight for all who still drew breath.
Sam beat his fists against the steering wheel as he pressed on through darkened, rain-swept streets. His pickup truck’s headlights and windshield wipers did little to help him navigate.
“This is Sam on channel three. If anyone’s out there, please respond.” Sam drove away from the gate, farther into town. “If anyone can hear me, drop everything and leave now. We’ve lost the town. I’ll make as many passes through Main Street as I can, but we have to go. Can anyone hear me? Please!” Sam desperately shouted into his radio as he pressed on deeper into the darkened heart of Pepperbush.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Flight
Frantic residents fled in all directions, a few not even bothering with their vehicles, desperate to escape the oncoming horde by any means necessary. Some sat in their cars, paralyzed. Others drove straight on into the masses. Dozens of people merely on foot fled through the forest. Carriers surrounded one couple too slow to escape; the man shot his wife, then himself. A young woman sat in the middle of the street, talking to herself, mind gone. A speeding car ran her down and promptly crashed into a nearby house, exploding on impact with an external propane supply tank.
Jeremiah stood in the center of the street, slowly spinning from side to side, bearing lone witness to so many succumbing to their fear. “Madness,” he whispered as his legs buckled, nearly sending him to the ground.
A red pickup truck screeched to a halt next to the stunned man.
Bernie yelled, “Come on, Jerry. Get in. There’s no time to waste!” Bernie waved at the distant soldier. “I g
ot a wounded lady up here. We gotta go, man. Snap out of it!”
The stunned soldier looked around in disbelief, tears streaming down his face. “Hell on Earth,” Jeremiah whispered. “It’s following us everywhere we go. First Philadelphia, now even here in the most unassuming of places.”
“What are you going on about, man?” Bernie leaped from his truck and rushed Jeremiah, grabbing him by the collar.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Jeremiah returned to his feet. “This is God’s wrath for all our wicked ways.” Jeremiah almost laughed.
“I don’t know about any of that, but you got a death wish or something. What are you doing? For Christ’s sake, get in the back, now!” Bernie insisted, forcing Jeremiah into the bed of his truck.
Two more people jumped in beside the unmoving medic. Bernie floored it in the opposite direction of the mass of infected. He glanced in the rearview mirror. A shocked Jeremiah was in silhouette against a backdrop of hundreds—possibly thousands—of undead pursuers.
Aiko shouted through a megaphone. “That’s it. Takashi called the evac, people. Let’s go. We’ve got a mess of shit coming our way and I don’t intend on still being here when it shows up. Pepperbush is compromised. Get to your vehicles and go. Drop what you are doing and leave the area immediately.” Aiko crossed the street again, back toward the Burkes’ house.
Inside, Tobias barked orders to his family, desperate to escape the fast-approaching horde. “Tommy, get Dusty in the car. We have to go now. Lillian, help your mother with those bags. We’re on the road in sixty seconds.” Tobias rushed outside with a handful of supplies.
Bernie’s pickup truck came roaring down the street, cutting through the storm and coming to a screeching halt in front of Tobias’s home. “They’re coming, Toby! Get your ass out of there right now!”
Tobias nodded. Behind him, in their own vehicle, Isabelle buckled young Tommy into his seat.
Jeremiah leaped from the back of Bernie’s pickup. The sound of Aiko’s voice calmly directing the locals seemed to break whatever spell the disarray held over him. He ran up to meet her in Tobias’s driveway and pulled her close. “Aiko, time to go. We are leaving now,” he insisted. The medic reached out and took her by the arm.