Hell Hath No Fury...

by Elsa Carruthers

  ***

  Letting his car warm up, Dusty swept off the car and shoveled his back tires out to try to avoid spinning out in the lot. Snow and wind swirled bitterly against his exposed face making his nose run and his eyes water. Even as he blinked and sniffed the wetness away, more replaced it. He gritted his teeth against the stinging snowflakes, so thick it was like being in mosquito territory in the Amazon.

  He gripped the travel shovel between his hands, wielding the heavy snow with a bit of extra effort. It was a small one that he kept in the trunk for emergencies, and it bowed under the weight of the snow. Glad that the wooden handle hadn’t actually snapped in two like he feared, he replaced it in the trunk before getting back inside the car. It must be nice living in Texas this time of year.

  His heart raced from the exertion as he sat behind the steering wheel of the Camry, staring at the wipers as they waved across the windshield. Tapping his gloved fingers against the wheel, he exhaled with nervous apprehension. He couldn’t get through to 911, the line just rang and rang. And when he tried calling Beth back, he received the recording, “Your AT&T customer cannot be reached.” He’d received similar mes-sages when trying to contact his landlord, and then finally, when trying to dial 911 again.

  He caught the reflection of the duffel bag that he’d thrown into the back seat in his rearview mirror, knowing that it’d be best to get to Beth’s place and just crash for the night rather than to keep trying ‘redial’ all night. She would be frantic waiting for him to call her back, and something still had to be done about Shauna’s place.

  It didn’t feel right, leaving the complex, but he didn’t want to stay knowing that he basically did not have a working phone to get in touch with the people he needed to, either. Once he arrived at Beth’s, he’d just keep trying to get through to 911 from there.

  Putting the Camry in reverse, he tapped the gas to back out of the lot when bare hands slapped loud against his passenger side window, making him jump. Swallowing and ducking his head, he tried to make out who it was. Snow covered most of the window, and he saw bare hands wiping it away. A cold, frozen face pressed against the glass and he recognized her immediately.

  Mandy.

  “Get in, get in.” He motioned with his hand and leaned over to unlock the door. A burst of cold air filled the car as the door swung open. Mandy was in her street clothes, having run from the scene in her apartment, and not at all dressed for the weather. Her hands, face, and ears were red as fire truck paint, but not with blood. She must have wiped it off in the snow. Her teeth were chattering rapidly like those hopping teeth with feet on them as she slid into the car. She closed the door and leaned forward toward the dashboard and opened all the vents, running her hands in front of the blowing warm air.

  He didn’t say anything else, concentrating on getting the Camry out of the parking space. He felt awkward and guilty not knowing if Mandy knew he’d seen everything that had happened. Would she accuse him of not helping her family in her apartment? He tried not to think of it and his guilt felt a bit like broken glass when he tried to swallow.

  “Th-th-thanks.” Her teeth were clacking together so badly that he was concerned she might bite her own tongue if she continued to speak.

  “Sure. No worries.” He winced at the automatic reply. She definitely had more worries than she should at her age. Licking his lips, he reached over and turned the heat on full blast and she made a soft noise of pleasure in her seat, urging her whole body closer to the dashboard.

  He pressed on the gas with a determined mindset and the Camry sputtered, protesting, as he finally backed out into the snowy lot. He frowned, wishing he had picked up a new set of tires. It was going to be a hairy ride. He had just barely passed inspection this year with these. He figured he had another season at the very least before changing them out. But now, he was starting to doubt his previous assessment.

  The wipers worked furiously to keep the windshield clear in the swirling snowfall. Taking a corner, even slow, the car’s rear end fish-tailed, and he gripped the steering wheel. Take it easy. Getting in a wreck halfway there wouldn’t do anyone any good. He certainly didn’t want to walk the entire way in this crap.

  When Mandy’s chattering slowed, he slid his gaze over to view her without turning his head. Huddled in the front seat, she looked very small…arms wrapped around her knees and legs drawn up on the seat. He thought about protesting her wet sneakers on the seat, but thought it’d be an ass move on his part given everything she’d been through.

  He returned his gaze out the front window and gritted his teeth as he felt his car slide. This wasn’t going to be a fun ride. He cleared his throat, “Where can I drop you?” He cringed at his tone. Did he sound like a jerk?

  Mandy looked at him and made a face, which he saw out of the corner of his vision, and he felt himself blush. Yep. “Police station, I guess.” She stared straight-ahead out the front window as the Camry coasted to a stop at a red light. He wished he’d asked that better. Sometimes he sounded like such a horse’s ass. But he wasn’t quite sure how to take it back and didn’t want to make it worse; so he stayed quiet, watching the intersection. The police station was on the way to Beth’s.

  No other cars were waiting to go as he peered out at the four-stop intersection. But better to be safe than sorry and gun it through the red light, regardless of how much he wanted to. He leaned forward, chest close to the steering wheel, trying to see if anyone was coming across the lanes in the snow. It was usually a dangerous, busy intersection.

  When the passenger door was jerked open and the cold was forced inside like a winter vortex, Dusty was completely unprepared. Someone tried opening his door, but his side was locked. The handle thudded a few times then went silent as the dark shrouded figure walked away from his door. Dusty stared out his window trying to see who it was. Camry’s weren’t too high on the list of car-jackings, but it was something he had never wanted the option of finding out. He jerked his head to the passenger side and watched stunned as Mandy was pulled from the car seat squealing in terror. She didn’t lock her side!

  “Hey!” Dusty yelled in the direction of where she’d disappeared, but he couldn’t see well enough because of the snow-covered back windows. Shoving his door open, he jumped out of his seat, almost falling. Grabbing onto the doorframe, he righted his feet. Leaving the door open, he made his way to the back end of the Camry. He dug his heels hard into the snow for traction, needing to find out what the hell was going on.

  Mandy was on the sidewalk on her back screaming and kicking, the snow flying in every direction as her sneakers kicked up the white puffs into the air. Two men and a woman were on their knees, pinning her down in the deep snow of the sidewalk, snarling at her like rabid dogs. They were clawing at her with their bare fingers while she struggled against them, trying to get free. “Help! Oh my God, please help me!”

  Dusty reacted quickly, moving forward in an attempt to try and shove one of the men away from her when he stopped cold, staring with incomprehension. The woman leaned forward, taking a large portion of Mandy’s cheek between her jaws, her teeth sinking in like it was a turkey leg. Shrieking, Mandy jerked her knees up towards her chest trying to knee-kick the woman in the head because the men were holding her flailing arms. But the move wasn’t working. The woman just ignored the attempts and wrestled with the flesh, grinding at it, trying to tear it free. Blood spilled down Mandy’s face into the snow under her head and down into her mouth.

  Her agonized screams brought bloodied gusts of red spewing back out, spraying her attackers, and choking her at the same time. The woman leaned back with a visible chunk of flesh in her mouth, making satisfied grunting sounds. The blood dripped down her chin like juice, mixing with the snowflakes. Moaning with the scent of blood, the men grew more frenzied with visible, pent-up excitement, and pulled Mandy’s cold, reddened arms to their mouths, bitting into them like they were corncobs hot from a kettle.

  “Holy Christ.” What was he suppos
ed to do? They are EATING her. What the hell? Gulping, he still envisioned running over to them and kicking the closest man in the head. But those thoughts quickly vanished as one of the men, chewing greedily on Mandy’s wrist, cocked his head and looked in Dusty’s direction. It was as if he was just noticing for the first time there was someone else on the street to eat. Dangerous, but not too bright, Dusty thought for a brief moment as the dark horror of his thoughts took over. This is not a video game!

  Mandy had stopped screaming and was making long screeching, mewling noises of pain. Her struggles were slowing as the woman bent to take more. Mandy’s sneakers flailed weakly in the snow as one of the men continued to chew on her exposed arm.

  The second man, who’d noticed Dusty, moaned in his direction. His frost-covered eyes darted over Dusty, his mouth opening wide, showing him a row of bloody teeth. He dropped Mandy’s arm and it landed with an explosion of snow and dark blood against the covered sidewalk. Dusty jerked in place, trying to make his body do something. His mind rifled through his decisions.

  Leaving Mandy there to be eaten didn’t seem like a good option, but he’d never been in an actual physical fight before. He wasn’t even sure he could win, let alone against three attackers. He flexed his fingers in his gloves. Oh, God. Is this for real? He squeezed his eyes shut and wished for a chainsaw. When he opened them quickly, there was still no chainsaw, just what looked like hungry cannibals in the street…eating his neighbor’s kid. His stomach rolled and his legs wobbled.

  Self-preservation took over and he ran for the driver’s seat. He skidded into the door when he tried to stop, and almost slipped under the car. Grasping onto the top of the door like before, he caught himself, and slammed down into the Camry’s seat. He frantically pulled his door closed and dumbly stared at the passenger door that was still wide open. He wanted to lean over and close the door, but he feared the delay would have him pulled out of his car like Mandy had been.

  Stomping on the gas, the tires spun, fish-tailing the car, and then found rough purchase against the road. As a snarling bloody face of the interested man appeared in the passenger side door, the Camry shot forward and the man was knocked to the ground by the door. Icy sweat trickled down Dusty’s neck, down into his sweater, as he flew through the traffic light that had once again turned red. Holding the steering wheel tightly in his gloved hands, he bit down on his lip hoping he wouldn’t be T-boned in the intersection.

  He made it through without an accident and felt relieved as the passenger side door made a soft thumping noise when it clicked shut. Staring in his rearview mirror, he watched the man begin chasing his car in a frenzied white cloud as the snow from his car showered the man. Dusty’s gaze lingered on where Mandy lay as the other two continued to rip away at her, dark blood soaking through the snow. “I’m so sorry.”

  ***

  He coasted in a numb state of shock along the quiet, abandoned roads after triple-checking the locking mechanism for all four doors. Other than Mandy’s attackers, he’d seen no one else on the road. It was like a snowy ghost town down every street he looked. Some houses were lit and some were dark. He shuddered to think what might be happening inside the houses. Little Tricias eating their families.

  What the hell was happening? He’d seen enough movies to know what it looked like. But really? Zombies? They weren’t real. And yet, Shauna and Mandy’s deaths seemed to say that they were. He’d been a brick’s toss away from the worst things he’d ever seen. They had to be zombies. As far as he knew, a van full of middle-class cannibals hadn’t been dropped off in the center of town.

  Nothing had been reported on the news. Not, he thought, that I even checked the news today. But someone would have mentioned it. Beth. He was really worried about what might be happening to her apartment complex. Is she okay?

  He chewed some skin off his lip, deep in thought. The severe pressure in his head throbbed, and he felt like he was going to be sick. This whole situation was completely crazy, and he was the most scared he’d ever been in his life.

  The people that he’d encountered didn’t have huge gaping holes in them like the movies. Would Mandy get back up and walk around after being chewed on? Had whatever was affecting them just begun to spread? There hadn’t been that many of them—that he’d actually seen yet. Was it a virus? Was it airborne or blood transmitted? Could he already have it? He swallowed hard, feeling his lips tremble. So many questions, but no way of knowing the answers.

  Still reflecting on the events of the night, remorse surfaced like an ugly monster in his consciousness. Was this what it had come to for him? To find out he was nothing but a coward in a crisis? That all the war video games he’d played and the visions of victory that he’d had, that it turned out that he was nothing more than a fake who couldn’t help when real trouble was around? No. I would have done something if I’d had something to fight with. He’d had no real time to pull out the shovel from the trunk since the keys had been in the ignition. He’d have had to go pop the trunk manually. But it didn’t really matter, he hadn’t thought of it at the time anyway.

  The shock of the situation, twice in one night, had found him ill-prepared to do more than be a horrified bystander. But he thought about it now and wondered how long the small, orange travel shovel would have lasted against the three attackers. Zombies. His mind was still trying to get used to that term. He felt so ashamed as he continued to torture himself.

  He took a wide turn onto Beth’s road a little too fast—lost in his dark thoughts—and the back end almost didn’t catch. He struggled with the wheel, easing on the gas to keep on the road. Finally righting himself, he caught a group of people in pajamas and coats running across the apartment complex street in his headlights. Caught unprepared for his arrival, some were blinded by his lights as they looked his way, but the others who’d kept running tugged the stragglers along, not bothering to look at the car. They all made it across before he had to brake hard to avoid them, but two bloodied people staggered into the road, intent on chasing the group who’d made it across. They didn’t look at his car, their attention fixed on the fleeing group like a pack of hyenas might.

  He felt his cheeks get hot, and he took his anger out on the two bloodied people in the street as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The tires spun, but the car responded and plunged forward, running the front end right into them. There was a loud sound when the bodies hit the grill, and it made him wince, but he didn’t slow down. Considering he’d never hit anyone with his car before, he felt pretty good about the whole thing. There was the initial shock of knowing that these people he was running down used to be normal people, but he pushed it away knowing that the bloodied people were not ‘normal’ anymore. Now he had a weapon to use, and he intended to use it.

  The bodies bounced off onto the road, and he saw a brief glimpse of them struggling in the snow as he coasted over the bodies with something akin to glee. The car jumped like hitting a speed bump too fast as he maneuvered to hit them both. “Take that, Grand Theft Auto!” He stepped on the brakes, slid forward a bit in the snow, and then reversed, feeling the car jump as it hit the bodies again.

  He hit them over and over again, watching the blood in his rearview mirror spill over the road. He rolled over them until his tires crushed them into something resembling a fleshy, mulchy, pulp puddle in the center of the street. He felt satisfied that they wouldn’t get back up. “Fuck, yeah.” He was sweating and breathing hard, but the vindication in what he’d done helped to heal his guilty conscience a little, from earlier.

  Looking out the window, he saw the small crowd of people waving ‘thanks’ to him as they took off in the opposite direction. They were far from safe, but a little more secure in that moment due to Dusty’s intervention. It might not have taken long before they’d been caught considering the state they were in. His gaze flickered over a woman in a nightgown and thick overcoat. Her bare legs and slippers looked very vulnerable. He sure hoped they knew where they were going
.

  Advancing forward down the street, he drove through the apartment complex, blood pounding in his ears. As he took it slow down the street, he saw no one else on the road, noting that some people in the complex had already put out Christmas decorations. He shook his head wondering what Christmas would bring this year with a zombie outbreak.

  He pulled into Beth’s parking lot, jaw dropping open in complete shock, and slamming his foot down hard on the brakes. The car vaulted further, skidding dangerously, and went sliding sideways into a snow bank before it stopped. Through the windshield, and through the mad swirling snow, he saw Beth beating the hell out of someone on the ground. The person was bleeding, crumpled in the snow, but reaching their bare hands out, trying to grab onto her boots.

  He watched in astonishment as she lifted the shovel high above her head and brought it down with all her force. “Take that, you son-of-a-bitch!” He heard her shout as the edge of the shovel finished decapitating whomever was on the ground. Blood splattered all over the snow, and then a massive amount began to bloom through the white accumulation. Chest heaving, she stared down at the mess. The head, detached from a bloody neck, rolled a bit towards her, its features face down in the snow.

  His heart pounded, watching her in the beams of his headlights.

  Flinching, she kicked the head away from her like some kind of Amazon Warrior-Princess playing soccer. He stared in awe. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Bloody and disgusting, but incredible nonetheless.

  Beth took a visibly deep breath, her jacket moving with the action, and finally looked toward the headlights, holding a hand up to shield her eyes. Dusty reached over and killed the headlights.

  Beth’s face lit up with relief and happy recognition as she spotted him behind the driver’s seat. Holding the bloody shovel a little away from her body, she sauntered toward his window and he rolled it down.