Apex Predator

by Glyn Gardner

  He drove the black plastic stock of the carbine down on her head. She continued to jerk his leg. He hit her again, and again. Finally he heard a dull crunch and felt her skull give way. He felt the fingers on his legs relaxed. The monster crumpled to the ground.

  He scrambled up the last two steps. Jen kicked the ladder over; the lightweight aluminum knocking several more zombies to the ground.

  “Are you ok?” asked Jen as she began a quick head to toe assessment of him.

  “I’m ok, tweaked my knee a bit,” he reported. “Take that you fucking bitch!” he yelled into the living room.”

  “Let me look at that knee.” She pulled his pant leg up. “Does this hurt?” she asked, prodding his knee.

  “A little bit.” She began tugging and twisting his knee in different directions. “Ok, you’ll live.”

  There were now several zombies in the living room. Three of them were at the base of the stairs, reaching towards the survivors. Theresa emerged from her room. “What happened?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Nothing dear,” said Jen.

  “I heard a gunshot. Did something happen?”

  “Go back to bed dear. It’s nothing.”

  “AAAAHHHH! They got in? Oh God! What do we do now?”

  “Calm down, ok.” Mike was rubbing his sore knee. “We’re gonna be fine.”

  “No! We’re not! Those things were outside; they killed my parents and ate my brother. Now, they’re in here and they’re going to kill us.”

  “Baby, they’re not going to do any such thing.” Jen turned on her soothing nurse voice. “They’re down there and we’re up here. They can’t get up here.”

  “No, you don’t understand. We can’t stay up here forever.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Mike.

  “What are we going to eat? All the food is in the kitchen.”

  Mike looked towards the kitchen. He counted six zombies at the bottom of the stairs and at least two more trying to come through the window. No way were they getting to the kitchen. He thought about his run in with one zombie and rubbed his knee again.

  The Body Shop

  “Sergeant Brown, can I speak with you?” asked Mrs. Sparks, closing the door of the manager’s office behind her.

  “Sure Ma’am. Come on in.”

  “We have a problem,” she paused. “Cindy just passed.”

  “Do the other kids know?”

  “No. They’re all still sleeping.”

  “We need to move her away from the others. We need to secure her body.”

  “I know. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “We can’t exactly bury her. I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly. He got up, walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. He went upstairs.

  “How’s it going Jackson?”

  “Not bad Sarge. Those things are still out there. Looks like about twenty of them. None of them seem to care that we’re here.”

  “The kid died.”

  “Shit.”

  “We need to secure the body. You see anything like a blanket or tarp up here?”

  “Sure, they got a blue tarp in that corner back there.”

  “Ok, get it out for me. I’ll be right back.” He headed back down the staircase. He returned a few moments later, cradling the small lifeless body in his arms. He placed it gently onto the blue plastic. He folded the edges over, and tucked it under her feet. The two troopers placed her body gently down in the corner near the fire escape.

  Jackson bowed his head. Sergeant Brown saw his lips move in some prayer. He felt compelled to lower his head as well. He couldn’t think of words to say for this little girl. The only thing he knew was that she died way before her time. He thought about her brother. He thought about her knowing he died. He thought about the strange fever that killed her.

  Oak Hills Drive, Bossier City LA

  Mike emerged from the room holding two backpacks.

  “This is all we have,” he said; emptying the contents onto the floor at the top of the stairs. “All the guns and ammo, that’s good. We have most of the tools, bat and shovel. Again, that’s good. We still have running water, but nothing to store it in besides the bathtub and sink. That’s not ideal, but it’ll work.”

  “What about food Mike?”

  “There’s the problem. We have: We have a case of canned corn, 4 cans of fruits, 3 cans of tuna, a jar of peanut butter, and some granola bars. That’s maybe a day’s worth of food.”

  “We can’t stay here. Mike, we have to leave.”

  “I know, but where do we go and how do we get there? We can’t just walk out the front door.”

  Theresa got up and walked into Mike and Jen’s bedroom.

  “Do you think we can walk out there? Those things will be all over us. You saw what they did to Davy.”

  “Well, if we can get to the garage, we can use the Tahoe.”

  “Mr. Mike,” called Theresa from the bedroom. “Does your garage open to the backyard?”

  “No door, only a window.”

  “Is it big enough for us to fit through?”

  “Sure.” Mike’s mind began working again.

  “Alright, you girls stay here,” he ordered as he crawled out on the roof holding the baseball bat.

  The two women watched as he leapt off the roof. They heard the window to the garage break. Theresa ran to the stairs. Several of the ghouls had taken notice of the breaking glass. She saw them start to scratch on the door.

  “Mike, keep it down in there. They heard the glass break,” she yelled. The zombies at the garage turned; shuffled across the kitchen back to the bottom of the stairs.

  In a few minutes, Mike threw the rope through the bedroom window. Jen hauled it in. At the end, Mike had tied the ice chests from the garage. Theresa ran and grabbed them, took them to the bathroom. Jen heard the water turn on.

  “Throw down the backpacks,” he whispered.

  Jen grabbed the backpacks, and the shovel. She tossed them over the edge of the roof. Mike policed them up and climbed back into the garage. Theresa returned with both coolers full of water. She tied the rope around the handles, and began lowering them down to the backyard. Mike returned.

  “Ok, ladies, anything else up there?”

  “No Mike. We’re coming down now.”

  Jen jumped down first. She hit the ground, rolling to her left. Theresa took one last look back. She tossed down her father’s carbine down. BAM! It went off. Mike climbed out the window as Theresa hit the ground, rolling just like Jen had done.

  “Sorry Mike. I must have forgotten to put the safety on. Is everyone ok?”

  “Yeah,” he replied pointing at the back door. “But, it looks like you got the attention of the neighbors.” Several of the zombies inside were pulling at the entertainment center that was blocking the door. “Time to go, Theresa.” She climbed into the garage, followed closely by Mike.

  Jen was already in the driver’s seat. Mike climbed into the passenger seat, and Theresa took the back seat. Jen started the car and hit the garage door button. The big black SUV fired to life as the garage door opened in front of them. Holy shit, thought Mike. The driveway was packed with zombies. They closed on the trio in the SUV.

  “Gun it!” Mike yelled. Jen slammed her right foot to the floor. The SUV lurched forward. Several of the zombies fell as the Tahoe charged down the driveway. Jen cut the wheel to the right, taking the most direct route out of the neighborhood. Several of the zombies moved towards the speeding SUV. Jen swerved to avoid them. The SUV slammed into a car parked on the left side of the road.

  BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Damn, thought Jen. She slammed the gear shift into reverse. She saw several of the ghouls shuffling towards the back of the SUV. The nurse jammed her foot on the gas. The car lurched backwards with a screech, knocking two of the zombies to the ground. She threw the transmission into drive. The car shot forward again. This time Jen did not try to miss the zombies. She rounded the corner. There were a
handful of the shuffling monsters in the street. Most of the zombies on this street had surrounded a one story brick house with blue shutters.

  “Look on the roof,” screamed Theresa. The trio could see two figures on the roof of the house. One was a man, the other a teenager.

  “That’s Larry Landry and his dad. We gotta help them.”

  Jen slammed on the brakes.

  “What are you doing, Jen?”

  “We gotta help, Mike.”

  “No, we don’t Jen. We can’t help them.”

  “Yes we can.” She jammed her foot on the gas pedal, turned hard on the wheel, and began honking the horn. The SUV jumped the curb, bouncing several times. The zombies surrounding the house turned on the SUV. Jen jammed on the brakes, and threw the Tahoe in reverse. As she backed away, the mob of zombies followed the SUV as it retreated back down the street. After two houses, Jen slowed the Tahoe down.

  “What are you doing,” cried Theresa.

  “I have an idea.” She slammed the transmission into drive again. She drove over the curb, knocking a few more of the zombies to the ground. As she pulled the SUV to the edge of the roof she opened the sunroof.

  “Hurry, get in,” she yelled. Larry jumped onto the roof, and then climbed into the sunroof. Mr. Landry grabbed the gym bag that was beside him on the roof. He jumped down onto the roof. His foot slipped from underneath him, sending him sliding onto the hood. He scrambled to climb the windshield. Mike quickly unbuckled his seat belt.

  “Help him,” cried Theresa. But even as she finished the order, she realized it was too late. The wave of dead had reached the SUV. The car began rocking from the bodies slamming against it. Mike stood in the sunroof, reaching for Mr. Landry. Mr. Landry reached out to Mike, grabbing his hands.

  “Go! Go! Go!” The Tahoe lurched backwards, Mike and Mr. Landry holding onto each other for dear life. Jen slammed on the brakes. Mike pulled hard and Mr. Landry finally fell through the sunroof. She slammed the car back into drive and gunned it, a slow wave of dead shuffling behind them.

  “Did they get you?” Mike asked excitedly.

  “No,” he replied. He paused to catch his breath. “Thank you for stopping. I thought that Larry and I were going to die on that roof.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Larry repeated, looking at Theresa.

  “You’re welcome,” replied Mike. “How long have you guys been up there?”

  “Three days,” replied Mr. Landry. “Those things showed after Larry’s mom went to work about four days ago. We didn’t even notice them until they started pounding on the door. I almost opened it. But for some reason, I used the peep hole.” He paused, inhaling deeply.

  “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There must have been thirty of them on my lawn. I yelled at Larry to look out the window. That was when the trouble started. Every single one of those things I could see turned. I swear they all could see me through the peephole. Next thing, they’re at my door and windows banging and clawing. Oh, let’s not forget that incessant moaning.” He lit a cigarette without asking. No one said a word.

  “After a day or so, they broke a window. We hid in the garage for a while, but they started banging on the garage door. Then, Larry had a great idea. We headed up to the attic, and pulled the ladder up. I thought we were good. Those things wondered off after a while.” He pulled a long drag from his cigarette.

  “So, Larry went down for some food and water.” He exhaled the smoke as he continued. “There must have been a few still in the house. Larry came charging up the ladder screaming bloody murder, two of those things hot on his heels.” He took another drag.

  “So there we were us at the top of a ladder we couldn’t pull, and them at bottom of the same ladder they couldn’t climb. It was like a Mexican stand-off, except their moaning must have been attracting more. Soon there were like ten in my garage reaching and clawing to get to us.”

  “So how the hell did you guys end up on the roof?” asked Mike.

  “Oh, it was dad’s best idea ever,” interjected Larry. “We had an old fan in the attic. You know the kind on a stand that spins in a little half-circle. We used that to scrape a hole in the wood of the roof. We just climbed through hoping to flag down some help like a couple of flood victims.”

  “You hear from your wife? Is she ok?” asked Jen

  He flipped the cigarette bit out of the sunroof. “We tried to call Jess, but she didn’t answer. We haven’t heard from anyone in days. You guys have any idea how widespread this is?”

  “It looks like it’s all over this area,” replied Mike. “I talked my brother in Atlanta a few days ago. He said there was some other violence in some other cities, but mostly here and in Texas. I’m not sure now though. TV’s been running the same announcement for the past two days.”

  Jen hit a button on her steering wheel. The radio burst alive with static. She hit another button and the radio began to scan the channels. It ran through all of the FM channels twice before she changed to AM. Finally the radio stopped.

  “…has issued a state of emergency. All military reservist and National Guard units are currently being called up and federalized. The mayors of both Shreveport and Bossier City have issued evacuation orders. People are being advised that emergency shelters are being set up in West Monroe, and Alexandria. People are advised, once again, to move to these shelters if they do not have anywhere else to go…”

  “What the hell is going on?” asked Mr. Landry.

  “Sounds like this thing is big,” replied Mike. There was a moment or two of silence. Mike thought about what the radio had said. Go east or south. Or, don’t go north or west. Why? “Did you notice that they didn’t say anything about Texas? I mean why would we only evacuate east and south?”

  “…Outbreaks have been reported in forty-two states, the District of Columbia, as well as twenty-six foreign countries, including England, Germany, France, South Africa, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Australia, Brazil, Mexico, Canada, and Japan…”

  “I guess that’s your answer Mr. Mike,” added Theresa.

  “Holy Shit,” Mike whispered. Mr. Landry lit another cigarette. Jen took it from his lips and pulled a long drag off of it.

  “Thanks Mr. Landry. Think I need one of these today,” she said after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

  “It’s Tom. Looks like we’re gonna be traveling together for a while. My friends call me Tom.”

  “I’m Jen, this is Mike, and this is Theresa.” She jerked the wheel left as she pulled onto the main four-lane. The street was utterly and totally deserted. “Where to now guys,” she asked.

  “We need to get some supplies. Let’s see what we can get from the gas station up here on the right.”

  The Body Shop

  “It’s not that bad Sarge,” pleaded Anderson.

  “Damn it Anderson your fever’s so bad your shivering.”

  “Don’t sweat it Sarge. I was out hunting last week. So I got a few tick bites. Won’t be the first time someone got Lyme disease during deer season. Face it boss, you need all the help you can get. What you got; an old fat teacher two scared kids and Jackson? You need every swingin’ Richard you can get.”

  “Ok, but you’re watches are two hours only. You drink plenty, and get some rest.”

  “No problem Sarge,” the trooper responded.

  “Go rest, I’ll get you in a few hours.” Anderson trotted out to the service bay. The troopers had fashioned a couple of hammocks between the lifts in the bay. SSgt Brown picked up the phone, dialing battalion HQ. Colonel Pinson himself answered.

  “First of the One-Oh-Eighth.”

  “Sir, it’s Staff Sergeant Brown.”

  “Dave, it’s good to hear from you. What’s your status?” The fact that the Colonel had addressed him by his first name did not escape SSgt Brown.

  “No real change. The little sick girl died this morning. So, three troopers, three civilians, food and water ok for now. We have about 250 rifle rounds.”

  “Sorry to hear abou
t the little girl. We’ve had some deaths here too. I’m down to about 150 warm bodies here.”

  “Any word on how we’re getting outa here?”

  “That I do have. Sergeant, you need to move your team north from your present location. The 101st out of Fort Campbell will be reinforcing the Air Force base. Their advanced team is on the ground now. The area you’re in is way too hot for ground evac. They will evac you from the intersection of interstate 220 and Swan Lake at 1500 hours tomorrow. Do you have a good map?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. Rest tonight, call me in the morning, and get your people to the evac point. The bird won’t land until they see you on the ground at the PZ”

  “Yes sir.”

  SSgt Brown looked at the map. He didn’t relish the thought of having to walk his people four or five miles up a two lane road, Surrounded by neighborhoods and apartment complexes. Be a damned good place for an ambush. Shit!

  A common military phrase popped into his head. SNAFU: Situation Normal All Fucked Up. How much more fucked up could it be? Out of touch, surrounded, and responsible for three civilians; what could be worse?

  He mounted the stairs. Jackson was looking out the window. He stood and stretched as SSgt Brown approached. “No change Sergeant. They just keep shuffling around. Heard some choppers about an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, the Colonel said that the 101st is coming down to reinforce the base.”

  “The 101st you mean from way up in Kentucky? Why them?”

  “I don’t know, because they’re airmobile. Who do I look like the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?”

  “I’m just sayin’ Sarge. We got 2 big scary divisions, including 1st Cav, 5 hours away at Fort Hood. Why aren’t they riding to the rescue?”

  “Maybe they’re busy. Or, shit I don’t know. You think too much. Go get some sleep. Anderson will wake you up in about six hour.”

  “Roger,” replied the trooper. He headed down stairs.

  SSgt Brown stood his watch, thinking about what tomorrow would hold. He barely noticed the sun setting in the west. After his four hours, he trotted down stairs. Anderson was sleeping in his hammock, shaking from the fever. SSgt Brown thought about letting the trooper sleep. But, he decided that he too would need rest before tomorrow’s excursion through Indian country.