The Infected (Book 3): Nightfall

by Joseph Zuko

  The ladies finished covering the windows to the four doors with metal slats they were cutting off of a rack that held spark plugs. Tina would measure out the length they needed and Sara blowtorched off a section. Tina ran the impact drill as Sara helped hold it in place.

  Inside the shop Rich had collected old gas station signs, traffic signs and other automotive industry signs that hung on every wall in the shop. In order to block up the rear windows of the van, but still allow the doors to slide they had to use the thin aluminum signs. It looked like Rich was going to breakdown and shed tears when the ladies bolted on a very old Pennzoil sign that must have cost a lot or was difficult to find. He did not say anything, but the look on his face spoke volumes. The sign was the perfect fit for the window so he got back to work and let them destroy his precious memorabilia. It worked perfectly. The window was fully blocked, no infected could get through it and the door still slid open. The ladies were very proud of themselves once they completed covering all the windows.

  Cliff and Jim helped Rich lay the last strip of metal support for the PT Cruiser’s cow catcher, but they still needed something to cover the windshields.

  “What about a cyclone fence?” Sara suggested.

  “You could see through it to drive but the infected assholes couldn’t get in. I like it. Good thinking Red,” Rich said as he rubbed his hands clean with a rag. “Next door are two gates that would fit perfectly. You guys keep those fucking things off my back and I can cut the gates down with the blowtorch. We’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “Sounds solid, but have you looked outside?” Frank said as he handed a fully loaded assault rifle over to Jim. They had not looked out a window since they entered the garage and had spent hours making a ton of racket.

  Jim stepped out of the garage and into the waiting room.

  “Of course,” Jim said under his breath. The parking lot was full of biters.

  “We’ve been through this before,” Sara said as she snatched up her shotgun and cocked it.

  “And now we’re better armed,” Frank said as he handed a shotgun to Cliff.

  “It feels like a waste of our very limited ammo.” Jim stepped closer to the barred up front door so he could get a better look and a quick headcount.

  “Any shots fired to bring down one of those infected people, is not a waste of ammo.” Sara stood shoulder to shoulder with Jim.

  “We’ll clear the lot.” Frank nodded at Rich. “Then you can come out and we can make a run for the gates,” Frank released the bolt on his SKS.

  Rich nodded back. He did a quick test with the blowtorch he was carrying to double check that it was functioning correctly and full of gas. It worked like a charm.

  “Stay with the girls, okay?” Cliff grabbed his wife and planted a kiss on her lips before she could answer.

  Rich unlocked the front door and Jim led the charge. The four of them came out guns blazing. A tidal wave of lead came crashing down into the zombies. Brains and blood flooded out of their infected skulls as the crew pumped round after round into their chewed up bodies.

  The cool early morning air felt good on Jim’s sweaty face. He had worked up quite a lather putting the rides together and the fresh air was nice. The smell of gun powder filled Jim’s nose as the shots pounded his ear drums. He tried to keep calm and follow Frank’s example. Aim and fire and not just spray shots in all directions. With the four of them cycling through rounds they cleared the lot in no time. When the last body dropped, Rich opened the front door and joined the crew outside.

  “Alright, let’s get this done. Any of you assholes let me get bit and I’ll kill you. Except you, Red. I’m too sweet on you,” Rich joked as he raced in the direction of the gates and his four security guards fanned out around him. Sara shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  Tina closed and locked the door behind him. She watched as they sprinted across the street. It was a towing company that had the gates they were after. Matching tow trucks lined the back lot behind the company’s main building.

  Rich got to the gate first and he fired up the blowtorch. He worked top to bottom attacking the hinges quickly. The blue flame cut through the metal fence like butter. The crew formed a semicircle around him as he worked. A few monsters popped out from around the corners of the surrounding buildings. Frank cut them down with a few pulls of his trigger.

  The first gate fell free and Rich pulled it down to the sidewalk. A couple more cuts and they would be ready to move. The street they were standing on was normally a busy intersection. Jim was surprised that even at this early hour there were not more travelers out. He thought that as soon as the sun was up, all the still living humans in the area would be out trying to make a daring escape. But the streets were empty. It was a stark contrast compared to the way it was yesterday. Jim guessed that it meant either people were digging in like ticks or that most people in this area did not make it through the night.

  “How much longer?” Sara asked.

  “Almost got it, Red.” Rich stood up from a squat position and kicked at the last hinge. The metal snapped on impact and the gate fell. Rich pulled it down and laid it on the other fallen gate on the sidewalk.

  “Let’s go,” Rich turned off and then tossed his blowtorch down onto the gate to free up his hands. Jim slung his assault rifle back onto his shoulder and helped Rich lift the two gates.

  A large horde of zombies emerged from an alley next to Rich’s shop. At the direction and speed the infected were moving, they were going to block the crew’s route back to the garage.

  Sara fired two shots and her gun was empty, “I’m out!”

  Cliff let off three and then he was tapped out, “Me too!

  Frank thinned the herd with his SKS and then it clicked empty. Mid stride he flipped the magazines around and reloaded his rifle.

  “Take over!” Jim called to the two with empty shotguns. Cliff tossed his gun onto the gate and took Jim’s position. Jim passed his end of the gate over to Cliff and pulled the rifle off his back.

  The zombies were quite the athletes and moved on the humans with incredible speed. Jim and Frank took out the lead racers, but it was going to be close.

  Sara tossed her shotgun next to Cliff’s and pulled out her Glock. Jim’s rifle clicked empty and still the pack of monsters closed in. They were thirty feet from the garage. Frank’s normally steady hands were shaking and his aim was off. From a lack of sleep and all of the running, he was missing half of his shots.

  Fifty infected monsters stood between them and the garage. The crew was running low on ammo. Another group of zombies had overheard the action and were now chasing down the crew from behind.

  Frank’s SKS was tapped out and Sara had hammered through all seventeen of her shots, but thirty infected were closing in fast.

  Jim wished he had stuck with his spear. Frank switched to his two Berettas, but even if he was perfect and nailed all of them with headshots it would barely be enough. Sara switched out her magazine. She was still new to handguns and running at the same time made it even more of a challenge. Jim pulled his sidearm and the three of them let loose with their shells.

  One of the garage doors began to rise and Tina was there at the open bay. She had a spare pistol from one of the duffle bags in one hand and the .38 special in the other. She surprise attacked the infected stragglers and took down ten herself.

  When the four of them clicked empty there were only three remaining zombies. Jim held his rifle like a club and kicked his legs into high gear. He raced out in front of his group.

  “Jim!!” Sara called for him to stop.

  He nailed the first one in the jaw with the butt of the gun and the infected slammed hard to the ground like a wrestler getting clothes lined. Jim took two more steps and swung the gun back in the other direction. It connected and the butt of the gun crushed in its skull. The final zombie that stood between them and the garage was so close that Jim didn’t have time to recoil his attack. The only thing Jim had time to do
was use the barrel of the gun like a spear and stab at it in the face. The metal tip of the rifle scraped its way up the zombie’s cheek and tore a jagged ravine. The barrel slid up its face and landed in its eye socket.

  Jim yelled out a guttural war cry as the assault rifle crunched its way deep into the infected monster’s brain. Its light switch was flipped off and the creep fell to its knees.

  Jim did not slow down. He stomped his boot onto its torso and leaped over its dead body. He ripped the rifle out of its destroyed socket and kept moving. The path was clear and the team headed for the open bay. The metal garage door shuttered and dropped when the crew passed through its opening. It shut just in time to keep the second hoard out. The zombies chasing them down from behind crashed into the side of the building. The metal doors bowed, but they held up under the pressure.

  Cliff and Rich dropped the gates to the concrete floor. Cliff reached out and hugged his wife, “Thank god you opened that bay door! We wouldn’t have made it otherwise!” He kissed at her neck and cheek.

  Tina kissed him back and she whispered in his ear, “I love you baby.”

  Rich laced his fingers behind his head as he fought to catch his breath, “Fuck me! What the shit?! That was intense. Is it always like that out there?” Rich puffed out a lungful of air.

  “Yep,” Sara answered as she picked her shotgun up off the floor.

  “I think I’m having a heart attack,” Rich pressed his fingertips against his chest.

  “How do we mount the gates to the windshields?” Jim asked as he headed over to a wash sink in the corner of the shop. Jim fired up the faucet and rinsed off the black gore that coated the barrel of his gun.

  Rich caught his breath and picked up the blowtorch, “We gotta cut out the fence from the frame. Then we can lay it over the glass and bolt it down.” He handed the blowtorch over to Sara. “Here Red, cut them out. I gotta add a little something to the cow catchers before we go.”

  Sara fired up the blowtorch and started in on the gates to clear the cyclone fence. Rich looked over what they had left from the metal racks that they used to fortify the windows. He found two lengths of steel that would work for his modification. He set one of the lengths of metal across the top of the cow catcher. It became a five inch lip that ran across the entire top of the old bathroom door. He welded and bolted it down until it was solid and looked like a short brim of a cycler’s cap.

  By the time he had the lip mounted firmly to his liking Sara had gotten the first of the fences out of the frame and the crew was draping it over the windshield of the van. Rich grabbed an air powered grinder and worked the hand held tool over the edge of the metal lip. He grinded at the length of metal, back and forth until it formed a sharp edge. It was not a razor blade, but at thirty miles an hour it would take a short persons head clean off. Rich repeated the process on the PT Cruiser.

  The team had the second fence cut out and bolted down just as Rich was finishing the horizontal guillotine on the front of Jim’s ride. Both cars looked like wasteland works of art.

  “We were at the end of our lease on that van too,” Tina said as she rubbed her tired sore hands together.

  “Yeah, baby I think we just bought this bad boy. No dealer is taking that van back.” Cliff put his arm around Tina’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

  Rich circled the vehicles once more and checked everyone’s work. “Ladies and gentlemen they look good. I mean they look like shit, but I think they will work.” A loud bang at the metal bay door grabbed Rich’s attention.

  “Everyone ready to roll?” Jim asked as he picked up his spear and loaded it into his car.

  “Hold on, hotshot. We have a problem here.” Rich folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his work bench.

  “What?” Jim snapped. He was tired of all the delays. He wanted so badly to get home to his family.

  “The bay doors.” Rich snapped back.

  Cliff’s head dropped, he already knew what Rich was going to say.

  “What’s the problem with the doors?” Tina ran her hands through her thick black hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

  Rich pushed himself off the workbench and walked over to the controls to the bay doors, “You gotta press and hold the son of a bitchin’ buttons to open the damn doors.”

  “As soon as we open the doors the infected are going to storm the place!” Sara rubbed her temples.

  “There has to be something we can do?” Cliff took a step closer to the controls and looked them over.

  Jim could feel Sara and Frank’s gaze upon him. They were turning once again to the idea man. Jim closed his eyes and concentrated. Someone had to hold the buttons to open the doors and let the two rides out, but that meant they would have to sacrifice themselves to the growing horde outside.

  Goddamn it! Nothing is ever easy! Jim thought as he gritted his teeth and forced the tired old gears to turn out another idea that would keep everyone safe and get them out of the garage in one piece.

  CHAPTER 19

  Karen woke to the smell of brewed coffee. Her body ached all over. Every muscle begged for mercy as she rolled over in bed. Yesterday was the most physical activity she had experienced in her life. She reached out like she did every morning for the last five years and checked for both girls immediately. They were gone.

  She snapped out of bed. Sore muscles be damned.

  Where were the girls? How did I not notice they were missing? Her mind scrambled as she fought to get out from under the sheets. The digital clock on the nightstand said it was eight seventeen in the morning. She had gotten less than three hours of sleep. It would have to do.

  Karen navigated her sleepy body out the bedroom door and down the hall. Something in the air smelled sweet. On top of coffee there was another odor she could not identify.

  She called with a rough morning voice, “Girls!”

  Karen entered the kitchen to find both little ladies and Troy sitting on barstools at the kitchen counter. Steaming plates heaped with flapjacks covered in maple syrup sat in front of each of them.

  “Mama!” both girls announced Karen’s presence.

  “You’re awake?” Valerie asked the obvious question.

  Leon stood at the range, spatula in hand, with Penny’s favorite apron wrapped around his thin hips and a classic Leon smile stretched across his face, “Good morning sunshine. Breakfast? Coffee? Both?”

  Karen was not a morning person. Never had been. Never would be. The deep lines on her face and the dark circles under her eyes spoke for her.

  Leon noticed and turned down his good morning smile, “Coffee?” he asked quietly as he reached for a cup and the full pot.

  “Black.” the frog in Karen’s throat croaked.

  Leon poured her a cup and handed it to her, “I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so soundly. I heard the girls get up half an hour ago and they claimed to be starving.”

  “Thank you,” Karen cupped her hands around the mug and brought the lip of the cup to her mouth. She blew on the hot black liquid, tested it and when it was the correct temperature, guzzled down the coffee.

  Troy swallowed his mouthful of pancake, “Leon and I discussed your plan to search the area for people and supplies. You need more rest, so the two of us will head out after breakfast. You stay here with the girls.”

  Karen carried her coffee around to the extra stool at the kitchen counter and took a seat next to Robin. She finished off the coffee and sat her empty mug down on the counter. Leon slid a plateful of flapjacks in front of Karen and picked up her empty mug. The brown, butter soaked, circles in front of her were perfectly shaped and colored. They were full on restaurant quality.

  “Don’t tell me you were a short order cook too?” Karen’s voice had cleared up a little.

  Leon spun around as he poured her a new cup of coffee, “Three years as the head chef at Johnny’s Original Pancake House just outside of Bend.”

  “They are delicious, Mama,” Valerie sho
ved a fork full into her hungry mouth.

  Karen used the edge of her fork to carve out a square of her first victim and lifted the buttery, syrupy, chunk of heaven to her starving face. The flavor was everything the wonderful smell promised it would be.

  Leon’s right eyebrow hovered high on his forehead as he waited for confirmation that it was delicious.

  “Mmm.” Karen moaned.

  His eyebrow relaxed into its natural position, “Thank you,” Leon said as he placed her fresh coffee next to her plate.

  “Where do you plan to search?” Karen took a sip of her drink.

  “We’ll take the Subaru and hit the neighborhood. We’ll be gone for an hour, tops.” Troy answered.

  “Have you looked outside? Is it still clear out there?” Karen questioned.

  “I saw a few earlier, but nothing us two manly men can’t handle.” Leon showed off his powerful bicep as he curled the spatula like a heavyweight.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Karen asked her brother. She knew it was a loaded question, but she needed to know that Troy was solid before she let him step outside.

  Troy straightened his back, readjusted his baseball cap to cover the cut on his forehead and wiped the syrup from the corners of his mouth. “It’d be good for me to stay busy.” His answer sounded a little rehearsed.

  Karen devoured her pile of cakes and sipped her coffee. She considered telling them just to stay here and wait it out, but they were grown men capable of making their own decisions. Maybe it would be better to scout out the area now instead of waiting

  What if it gets worse out there in a week? We will need more supplies.

  Karen’s thoughts were conflicted and there was absolutely no correct choice to pick from. Starve to death in a month or step outside and possibly become an appetizer for an angry horde of the undead.