by David Rogers
And even though there had to be hundreds of bodies, there were still zombies left ‘alive’ down there. Some were crawling across the carnage, having been ‘injured’ by the truck as it drove through them and took out or destroyed their legs. Others had just somehow not been hit, and were trying to stagger across the uneven footing. Most of them weren’t managing it very well; they fell with nearly every step as their twice-dead fellow horrors tangled their feet or tripped them up.
Her stomach lurched within her, and she nearly threw up. She’d thought she was inured to the horror of the apocalypse. Thought she’d adapted and adjusted to the worst of life in a world where zombies were trying to eat everyone they could catch. But this was … this was something else entirely.
As she struggled with her gorge, the truck braked hard as it reached the building. It stopped almost directly beneath her and Austin as they watched from the middle edge of the roof. Then one of the doors opened. She squinted at the figure that stood up out of the opening, standing on the driver’s side floorboard waving a big rifle and yelling.
“Come on you bastards if you’re coming. Or get fucked if you’re gonna start shooting at me again.”
“Is that—” she began.
“Happy.” Austin said. “Holy shit.”
Happy threw the rifle in his hand to his shoulder, aimed, and shot a zombie that was a few yards from him. Approaching. The zombie’s chest exploded. Jessica could see the hole that opened in the front of its torso even from up here, but the enormous burst of gore that erupted from its back was shocking. It staggered and sort of crumpled, which she couldn’t recall ever having seen a non-head shot doing before.
As Happy worked the bolt on his weapon and aimed at another zombie, the truck’s passenger door opened. Another figure appeared, also staying in the truck but standing up to look around. She had the same long black hair Jessica did, pulled into the same ponytail. A pistol was in her hand, and she started firing at the zombies. Jessica felt her already churning stomach drop right through the roof beneath her feet.
* * * * *
There were dozens of zombies still on their feet in the street, dozens and dozens. Not all of them were close, and most of those would be a while in getting here the way they were falling over all the bodies, but zombies never gave up. If they could eat you, they kept coming. Candice winced as Happy’s rifle went off again next to her, the noise echoing off the buildings acting like a double-slap as it assaulted her ears both coming and going.
She brought the Shield’s sights back to the closest zombie to her side of the truck and fired, then again, then a third time. It went down as she finally caught it in the head. Looking behind her, she saw there weren’t any that were too close back there yet, so she started shooting at another zombie up ahead.
More gunshots started going off near her. She flinched and almost fell out of the truck when she ducked a little. As she caught her balance, she saw several people standing in front of the door of the building with the metal shutters. Two women were there, with hunting rifles they were using to shoot at the zombies too. And a man a little behind and between them, with a pistol in his hand. She recognized him.
“Byron!” Candice cried. “Byron, have you seen my mom? Or Austin?”
“Candice, what in the hell are you doing here?” Byron said, looking shocked. Then he shook his head. “No, never mind. Austin and your mom are in here with us. They’re up on the roof with the others. They were taking care of the guys who were shooting at you.”
“What?” she yelled back. The three rifles were making a lot of noise, especially Happy’s. Someone else was shooting too, but she didn’t see from where. Only the noise, and falling zombies as bullets ripped through them, clued her in. She ignored all of it, trying to focus on what Byron was yelling over the chaos.
“They’re upstairs. I bet they’re—” he shouted, before stopping as one of the women fired again. As she worked the bolt on her gun, he resumed yelling. “—coming down now.”
“Good.” Happy said before he shot another zombie. “Fuckers, all of’em.”
“What?” Candice yelled.
“The fuckers on the roofs Candy. Not your mom. Shit, where’s my fucking ammo bag.”
Happy sat back down in the driver’s seat and started feeling around on the floorboard.
“Hey, hey!” Byron was yelling. Candice looked at him to see he had turned and was yelling into the building. “Our ride’s here. Anyone who doesn’t want to keep camping out, let’s go. Happy, let me get in there behind the wheel when you get it parked closer.”
“Hey fuck you, I’m driving.” Happy said before he fired again.
Candice squeezed the trigger and realized the magazine was empty. She felt for the release and dropped it out into her hand. As she put it in her pocket and reached for the other one on the holster, Byron continued arguing with Happy.
“Happy—”
“I fucking drove down here.” Happy said, waving his gun around in a broad arc. “Fucking left, found the fucking truck with Candy here, and then drove the fuck back and flattened all these fucking fuckers you see here. I’m gonna damn well fucking drive out too.”
Candice looked from Happy to Byron in time to see Byron’s shoulders slump a little. He looked at her, and she shrugged slightly as she slid the fresh magazine into the Shield. But she gave him a little nod.
“Alright, fine. Too many zombies to step over anyway.” Byron said. “But back the truck up to the door here, huh? Without smashing the hell out of the building. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Happy said. “But trust me, the fucking place is already trashed. You guys are on fucking zombie duty, yeah? And don’t fucking shoot us while you’re fucking doing it.”
“Just take it easy. And don’t drive away until I say we’re all in.”
Candice sat back down in the seat and pulled her door closed when Happy got back in. She holstered her pistol and reached into her pocket again. There were still bullets there where she could get at them, so she could reload her magazine. And another double handful in one of the small pockets in her pack, which was somewhere on the floor of the truck. Where she didn’t know — she’d have to look for it — since Happy’s wild driving had made everything slide around.
Outside the gunfire continued. The zombies still on their feet were being cut down, widening the ‘clear’ space to leave only those that couldn’t stand for one reason or another. Hopefully there were enough people shooting at them to make sure things stayed that way.
Happy turned the wheel and drove forward slowly, bodies crunching beneath the tires. Then he shifted and cranked the wheel back the other way before glancing across her. And then he blinked. His eyes shifted to her. “Where’s the mirror?”
“Gone.” she said as she stuffed bullets into the magazine. “The roof people shot it.”
“Fuckers.” Happy said, shaking his head. He turned his head the other way. “I hate looking over my left when I back up.”
Candice turned in the seat and looked out the window as the truck began reversing. She was about to say something as the truck got closer and closer to the building when Happy finally stopped. When she opened the door and stuck her head out, she saw there was hardly enough room for someone to squeeze past.
Movement on her left drew her eye from the building, and she saw several zombies were starting to get too close to the truck. To her. The gunfire from behind had stopped, and a couple of eager monsters were stumbling across the uneven footing right for where she perched in the truck’s doorway. They were already reaching out to her in anticipation of the coming meal.
She threw the partially reloaded magazine on the dashboard and pulled the Shield back out. Standing up again, she aimed and shot the first one. As she swung her sights to the second, its head came apart and it fell over. Then the one behind it went down too. A series of rapid fired shots were coming down from the roof behind the truck. The bullets were hitting from above and all the icky stuff the
y created when the zombies’ heads and bodies got hit was driving down toward the street at an angle.
Lifting her gaze, she saw Austin standing there at the edge of the roof. His M4 was against his shoulder, eye to the scope, and he was shooting faster than she’d ever seen him shoot. The rifle, the carbine as he kept telling her it was correctly called, was moving in jerky stop-start-stop-start movements as he changed targets. Spitting bullets faster than she could count. Bang, move the gun, bang, move the gun again, bang again; on and on.
Candice started to shout up to him, then realized he was busy. Too busy to talk. And he probably wouldn’t hear her over the noise of his weapon anyway. When she looked down at the street again, she saw he’d cleared every zombie still on its feet for almost half a block on her side of the truck. He kept firing, his bullets hitting ones that were crawling or trying to crawl toward her.
“Candice!” a familiar voice screamed on her right.
Jerking her gaze away from the street, Candice saw Jessica standing at the back of the truck, pressed up against the wall of the building to fit between the vehicle and structure. She was covered all over in bits of black and brown rocks, sweat and dirt, had blood on her face, and was out of breath. One of her pistols was in her hand, but it was down at her side as she stared wide eyed at Candice.
“Mom!” Candice cried.
“Candice what the—” Jessica shouted, and took a step sideways to clear the truck.
“Don’t go into the street!” Austin’s voice shouted, louder, from above.
“—here.” Jessica continued, taking another step away from the wall.
“The zombies!” Candice screamed, wrenching her eyes from her mother’s face to the bodies on the sidewalk and pavement between them. A number of them were moving, rolling over or trying to pull themselves along with hands and arms only as they attempted to drag their shattered bodies across other corpses in their way. Toward Jessica.
“I told you—” Jessica said, taking another step, still looking at Candice.
The girl started to bring her pistol up, but a tremendous slam-thump rocked the truck and assailed both her ears and balance. The vehicle bounced some on its shocks, juddering up and down. She caught the edge of the door for support, trying to keep herself from falling out. A burst of bullets erupted. Not rapid-fired single shots, but a long ripping-crackle of them going off one after the other too fast to count even if she had tried. Zombies on the ground between her and Jessica shuddered and sprayed bits of gore as the fire shredded through them.
She looked up just as Austin dropped down from the top of the truck, his carbine flopping around on its sling in front of his chest. The barrel was smoking. A corpse’s chest crunched as Austin’s considerable weight came down on it. He charged right at Jessica the instant his boots came down and could move him. Two more zombies’ torsos collapsed as he planted his feet, and another two tried to grab at his legs as he ran across the carpet of corpses. There was a crack of breaking bone as the one zombie that almost got a good grip on him saw the man’s strong long legged stride break its elbow back the wrong way.
He all but tackled Jessica, sweeping her up with his body, wrapping his arms around her and driving her back.
* * * * *
Jessica’s breath wooshed out of her lungs as her back thudded into the wall of the store that had become their prison. She blinked as her head came down against the hand that had been placed behind it, protecting her from knocking it on the concrete block as she was pushed into the wall. She gasped and coughed. Austin was in front of her, blocking out everything. All she could see was his chest.
“Austin—” she wheezed, before coughing again. She heard and felt him shooting, one of his pistols was in his hand. He was half turned away from her, pointing the gun and firing behind himself in the direction of the truck. Every round produced a noticeable thud of recoil that she could feel ripple through him and into her as he pressed her back against the wall.
“Candice, stay in the truck.” Austin shouted between shots.
“Let me—” Jessica said, pushing at him. It was like shoving at a wall, and about as effective.
“We’ve got it.” Austin shouted again, firing several more shots. “We’ve got it now.”
Jessica squirmed and ducked under his arm, sliding sideways just enough to finally see past him. He was shooting at downed zombies between her and where Candice stood in the open door of the moving truck. “Candice—” she yelled, shifting forward again.
“No!” Austin said, and he caught her before she could get past him. One handed he pressed her back against the wall again. “Jessica, no.”
“She’s — let me go!” Jessica said, struggling against him. Even her whole body weight, and pushing against him with her legs as well as arms, she couldn’t overpower the strength in the one hand he kept on her shoulder. She stayed pinned against the store-turned-prison, and he wouldn’t let her move.
“She’s fine.” Austin half shouted at her. “You can’t go out there. Look at the damn street.”
“That’s why—”
“No!” he said sharply, putting his face right in hers. His expression was desperate, eyes wide and pleading. “What happens to her if she watches you get eaten?”
Jessica stared at him, and suddenly fully registered what the street looked like. Really noticed it. Nearly knee high in some places, and most of it covered in corpses. Moving corpses. Zombies never stopped, not even if you broke their necks. All they did was go for their next meal. Anyone out there on the layer of death coating the street was that meal.
“Okay.” she whispered.
“I’ve got her.” Austin said. “She’s safe. But she’ll be safer if I can keep an eye on what’s down there near her.”
“Okay.” she said, louder.
“Promise me. Don’t go out there.”
“I fucking promise!” Jessica said, blinking tears out of her eyes.
He kissed her, hard and fierce, smearing grime and tar across both their faces. Then he turned and reloaded his pistol in an unbroken series of well-practiced movements before starting to shoot again.
Jessica slid sideways so she could see past him again. Candice was still standing in the door of the truck, eyes bright and her expression a curious mixture of delight and terror. The pistol was in her hand, not in the holster. Holes were visible in the windshield behind her, on her side of the windshield.
It was all Jessica could do to not break her word right there and run to her daughter.
“Mom—” Candice called
“Get back in the truck!” Jessica shouted between the metronome of Austin’s shooting, pointing at the girl and making herself ignore the zombies on the street between them being dealt with by Austin. “Close the damn door. Seatbelt on. Stay there, stay right there until I come get you.”
Candice stared at her. Austin shot twice more, and Jessica almost took a step forward. She settled for cursing instead. “In the fucking truck! Now Candice!”
Meekly Candice gave a jerky nod and sat back down. Her arm reached out and tugged the door closed, and then Jessica couldn’t see her anymore. In front of her, Austin reloaded the pistol again, and then reloaded his M4 too.
“Okay, okay.” he said without turning, as he lifted the carbine to the ready but didn’t fire. “We’re good. Everything’s under—”
“I told you to cover her from up there.” Jessica said angrily. She welcomed the flash of bright and hostile emotion.
“I did.”
“Then why are you down here?”
“She’s okay in there. But you were about to do something very—”
“She’d better be okay.” Jessica snapped.
“She’s okay. I’ve got her, I’ve got you. We’re okay. None of them can reach up to the door. Not if they can’t walk.”
“What was she thinking?” Jessica said, her anger starting to dissolve back into horrified terror. She just couldn’t stay mad enough to fend the fear off.
> “I don’t know. She’s in the truck, and they can’t get to her in it. We’ll be out of here in a minute, and you can yell as much as you want.”
“I can yell and get out of here at the same time.” she snapped, still struggling to turn the spout of rage up enough to force the nearly paralyzing sensation of being scared off.
“Yell at me all you want. I can take it.”
“Goddamnit.” Jessica muttered, giving up. His dedicated patience, his persistent calm, and the absolute aura of focus as he watched the street and made sure nothing un-lived to threaten Candice was proof against her continued attempts to use rage to beat back her terror.
When she started to wipe at her eyes, she stopped when she realized she’d be smearing tar and dirt into them. Some of the dirt was rock fragments, like jagged sand, and would hurt. The tar probably wouldn’t do her eyes any favors either. Her hands fluttered helplessly for a moment, then she plucked at her shirt collar so she could use the inside of her shirt.
“We’ll be out of here in a minute, as long as the truck holds up.” Austin said, still facing the street with his M4 ready to shoot.
“It looked pretty bad from up there.” she said in a voice that sounded far more calm than she felt.
“It’s only got to hold together for another minute or two, and we’ll be out of the horde. We’re almost home.”
“We’re not home.” she said immediately.
“We will be.”
“Nice and easy.” Byron said behind her. She glanced over to see Byron had climbed up into the back of the truck and was extending a hand down to Carlo, who was leaning heavily on Nate and trying to get in. Beyond them, on the driver’s side of the back of the truck, Tori and Donita were shooting at things over there. She heard Happy’s big rifle go off again.