by R. M. Smith
Carmen moaned, “Can we please just stop? I’m so tired! My foot is killing me.”
“Just a little more,” Scott said as he pulled her up onto the roof of a minivan. “We’re getting close. Then you can relax.”
“Come on you two,” Kim yelled.
Frustrated, Scott hoisted Carmen over his right shoulder, stepped across the crushed hood of a minivan, and hopped across onto the hood of another car. Their weight together dented the hood in. He stepped down onto the road, hopped back up onto the hood of a different car, jumped across it and into the bed of a pickup truck.
“You should have carried me the whole time,” Carmen said, her head and legs bouncing as Scott walked. “Would have been much faster.”
“Didn’t think of this ‘til right now,” he said as he jumped across another hood. “But you’re right, we’re gaining ground on those freaks.”
Nick stopped running.
Were his eyes playing tricks on him or were there hundreds of dead people ahead of him in the tunnel? It was hard to tell, but it sure looked like it.
He took a step closer.
Yes, they were dead people.
Several of them slowly turned toward him.
Nick took a step backward. He ran back toward the entrance of the tunnel.
There had to be another way out of here.
Back out in broad daylight, he looked for a way over the highway center divider. The fucking freaks were gaining on him.
He hopped up onto the hoods of cars, looking for anywhere he could get over the dividing wall. If something was high enough, he might be able to jump over; or at least jump onto the divider and then pull himself over.
“Doesn’t anyone drive trucks in the fast lane,” he asked as he ran, dodging through cars. Soon, he would be back to the destroyed bridge.
“There has to be a way over!”
A pickup truck with a camper sat next to the divider wall.
“It might be just tall enough,” Nick said skirting around the front of another car, nearly jamming his knee between it and the one behind. He put his foot up on the bumper of the truck, stepped up onto the hood, and climbed up onto the camper top. He was high enough now to jump over the dividing wall. Taking a deep breath, he jumped. He landed hard on the cement, fell onto his side, skinning his elbow and knee.
The road on this side was empty other than a few vehicles stopped here and there.
There was only one way to go.
Back into the tunnel.
It looked like a dark eye, unblinking, a tiny peephole of light at the far end.
Nick ran toward it.
Scott grunted as they crawled through the tangle of crashed vehicles. He groaned, “Aw fuck, is that bus blocking the end of the fucking tunnel?”
“It’s sitting at an angle in here,” Kim said, resting her back against the side of it.
They were right below the windows of a Metro bus. Its front end was jammed, caught against a guard rail; the back end wedged against the other side of the tunnel. Cars had crashed against it, cramming it harder and harder against the tunnel wall.
“We’re gonna have to break a window or something to get in,” Scott said leaning against the side of the bus, too. “Let’s do that. Then we can climb up and walk right through the damn thing.”
Carmen asked, “Can you lift me a little higher? I can almost see inside.”
Grunting, Scott lifted her into the air with both hands. Her legs were swinging slightly above him as he lifted her. He smelled urine. His hands were on the bare skin of her belly.
“I can’t see anything. The windows are tinted.”
He set her down. “Damn. Kim, let’s look around for something to throw through the window.”
Dim daylight was coming through the windows of the bus.
“It’s so cramped in here,” Kim said looking through a crushed car. “This place is jammed.”
Scott found a short two by four block of wood in the back of a pickup. “Let’s try this. Carmen, stand back.”
She limped to the side.
“Ok, cover your eyes.”
He threw the piece of wood at the windows. It hit between two of them. The block clattered to the ground.
“That wasn’t a very good throw,” he chuckled. “One more try. The window should pop out if I hit it hard enough; they’re designed that way.”
His second throw hit the center of a window head on. The glass popped out of the frame landing inside the bus on the floor. Light came pouring out.
“Good throw,” Kim said her hands on her hips. Her back was covered in sweat.
Scott grabbed Carmen again. Lifting her, he said, “See if you can see what we got going on inside.”
She pulled herself up holding onto the edge of the window.
No one was in the bus.
The aisles and seats were clean.
“It’s clear,” she said back down to them. “No one’s in here.”
Carmen let go of the window. Scott lowered her down quickly. He said, “Kim, you’ll have to go check it out. Carmen can’t walk and I can’t get up there by myself.”
“I don’t want to leave you guys,” she said.
“You’re not leaving, dummy,” he said. She smiled crookedly. “I don’t want you to go anywhere either; but we need to know what’s going on outside the tunnel. Are there more freaks or what?”
She hugged him. “I’m scared.”
He held her. “We are too, honey. Just go look, ok? If it’s bad, come back down. We’ll be right here.”
“Alright.”
He lifted her up into the window.
She pulled herself up. She disappeared inside.
Thirty seconds later, Scott raised his head up to the bus. “Kim?”
Carmen looked at him with concern in her eyes.
He asked, “Where the fuck did she go?”
“I thought she’d be right back.”
“Me too.”
“Lift me up,” Carmen said. “I’ll see if I can see her.”
He hoisted her back up.
Half-way through the tunnel, Nick stopped running to catch his breath. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees.
Light was reflecting in a wet splotch on the cement a few feet ahead of him.
“Just oil,” Nick whispered. “Maybe a car radiator...”
The water started to bubble.
“The hell?”
Curious, Nick slowly walked up to it.
It wasn’t water.
It was blood.
Abruptly, a single bubble on a strand of blood slowly rose out of the puddle up into the air even with Nick’s chest. Light glinted off the wetness. Blood dripped from it. It hovered in midair for a second and then popped.
Blood sprayed outward in an array.
Nick ducked. The spray flew over him, missing him by inches.
Disgusted, he ran away toward the light at the end of the tunnel.
More blood started to spot through the cement as he ran past.
The bus was empty.
Carmen whispered loudly, “Kim?”
“She in there?” Scott asked from below.
“No. No one’s here.”
He let her back down.
“Where the hell did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
Scott asked, “Were you able to see through the bus? What’s on the other side? Is it clear?”
Behind them, a loud deep scraping noise echoed through the tunnel.
“What the hell was that?” Scott asked looking around.
It’s the rats. They’re coming out of the sewers now. They’ll crawl up here, sneak under the crushed cars, and start gnawing on your feet. They’ll take you first because you’re weak – and scared – they can sense fear. They’ll chew you up.
“Carmen?”
“What?”
“I thought I was losing you there. You were out of it for a second.”
“Sorry,” she said, her eyes glazed over.
Another loud penetrating screech echoed through the length of the tunnel. “God damn, that’s a weird fucking sound,” Scott said, fear in his voice.
The bones of the dead are scraping up from under the road. The people who were killed here, smashed in their cars or decapitated by flying glass. It’s their bones, scraping along, skeletal beings bent on revenge.
“Shut up,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know. I’m freaking out. Having some weird thoughts.
“You ok?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes staring blankly. “Yeah. Fine. Just give me a sec.”
He backed up a step. Her face was getting very pale. The pupils of her eyes were dilating.
“Carmen?”
Scraping along the ground; breaking bones, skin ripping under the sharp edges of the undercarriage of a car.
The mailman.
Nick? Nick’s not a mailman.
He ran her over.
After you pushed her. What?
Janet?
Remember, darling?
“Darling,” she whispered.
Scott swallowed.
Carmen blinked her eyes.
Scott asked, “You ok? You’re freaking me the hell out.”
“Hold me.”
He grabbed her and held her. She could feel his strong arms wrapped around her. They were shaking. He was scared, too.
What’s happening to me? What is that damned voice? Who is that?
Another loud pealing squeak scratched the ground. Scott felt it in his feet.
“Oh shit,” he whispered.
“What?”
“The freaks. They’re pushing the wrecked cars toward us. They’re gonna crush us against the bus.”
The exit door of the bus stood open. Kim cautiously walked to the front and peered out.
Highway lanes leading into the tunnel were blocked by two army trucks parked nose to nose.
The center median had been built out from the center of the tunnel. A flag on a pole waved in a breeze. Cars were backed up bumper to bumper as far as she could see. Some vehicles were sitting sideways on the other side of the road up in the grass.
All of the cars waiting to go into the tunnel were empty. There were no people in them.
Everyone was standing in the street. Some were in the break down lanes. Some were up on the grass. Others stood motionless in the lanes leading out of the tunnel.
They were all dead.
Their bodies were evolving. Tangling worms had bundled together under the skin, bruising it, causing it to rip. Some worms stretched out of the skin, pulling it, tearing it as it reached to the ground where blood puddled. Worms crawled along the stretching, bleeding skin, blood dripping.
In unison, all of them turned to face Kim when she poked her head out of the bus.
Suddenly, Nick came running through the open door of the bus. It scared the hell out of her.
Kim screamed, “Where the hell did you come from?”
He was out of breath. Quickly, he pulled the door closed with a handle at the driver’s seat.
“Nick, what the hell’s going on?”
Holding up a hand to her, trying to get his breath, he finally said, “I came through the tunnel.”
“Where’s Janet?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. She wanted to get out. I left her on the road.”
“You what?”
“She wanted out. She was pissed.”
Kim gave him an evil eye. “You didn’t just leave her, did you, like you did to Carmen?”
“No,” he said out of breath shaking his head. “No, she got out by herself. Listen, we can talk about this later. We need to get the hell out of here. The freaks are right outside!”
“Wait. We need to get Carmen and Scott. They’re over here.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the popped out window. “Right down there.”
Nick stuck his head out the window.
Scott and Carmen were hugging one another. Carmen was crying.
“Come on you two,” Nick said. “We need to get out of here.”
Carmen looked up, her eyes wet with tears. She asked “What the hell are you doing here?”
Scott asked, “Where’s Kim?”
“She’s right here.”
Scott hoisted Carmen up to the window. Nick pulled her into the bus. She bumped her foot on the floor as she sat down. She held back a scream of pain.
“Sorry about that,” Nick said.
Holding her foot, grimacing in pain, she said, “Help Scott.”
He reached down for Scott.
Scott grabbed his hand.
Another loud screech echoed through the tunnel. Several cars below Scott started to crush against the bus.
He yelled, “Hurry! They’re trying to smash us.”
Scott jumped up to the window ledge. Holding on, Nick grabbed the back of his shirt and helped him crawl up into the bus.
Globs of spit started splashing against the windshield. “Hurry you guys,” Carmen said. “They’re getting closer out there.”
Finally, Scott fell into the bus. Nick dropped down into a seat next to him.
“Thanks,” Scott breathed.
Nick nodded, out of breath.
The whole bus was groaning as tons of cars pushed against it.
“We’re screwed,” Carmen whispered, grabbing her seat as the bus shook. “We’re gonna get crushed in here.”
All of them held onto the seats around them. Scott plopped down onto a seat.
Windows in the bus started popping out.
Kim sat next to Scott. She grabbed his hand.
Carmen glanced at Nick. For a brief second she thought his face looked broken and bloody again.
He looked at her as he held on.
No, he isn’t hurt, she thought. His face looks fine.
She felt light headed for a second.
She felt like someone was shaking her. No. It was the bus.
Nick and the mailman. They have something in common.
The windshield broke, pulling her out of her daze. Spit started flying through the open front of the bus.
Scott pulled Kim close. He closed his eyes.
“I love you,” she whispered.
The front bumper of the bus was caught on part of the guardrail at the exit of the tunnel. When the force became too great, the bus ejected like a door slamming open. It hinged on the guardrail, doing a half-spin, turning from east-west to north-south in less than half of a second. All four wheels skidded across the road, tearing over the concrete, ripping through hovering blood and spraying vomit, smashing through bodies of the standing dead. When the tires hit the center median of the highway, the bus stopped abruptly. It teetered on two wheels for a split second, then dropped back on all four tires.
Inside the bus, Nick, Scott, Kim and Carmen had been wildly thrown out of their seats.
Blinking, laying in the center aisle, Scott sat up. Kim was laying on top of him. “Everyone ok?”
Slowly everyone sat up. Nick rubbed his head. They all said they were ok.
Scott got onto his feet. “We gotta go now. Right fucking now.”
He jumped out the window he had just climbed through.
Looking at each other in surprise, Kim jumped out, too. She was quickly followed by Nick.
Carmen stood up using a seat as a crutch. She limped to the window.
Scott was waiting on the ground below.
“Jump! I’ll catch you.”
She jumped.
In a car that had been parked on the side of the road near the tunnel exit, Scott, Kim, Carmen and Nick sped toward Executive airport to find Scott’s sister, his father, and escape.
Kim watched out the rear-view mirror on the passenger side.
The dead followed.
BOOK TWO
THE DEAD ONES
Executive Decisions
Eighteen year old Stacy Olson stood in an open bay of a hangar at E
xecutive airport. She had her arms crossed. She was staring outside, watching her dad pacing around their plane.
Well, actually, it was her older brother Scott’s plane. It was a white 8 seat Cessna turboprop.
She and her dad were waiting for Scott. Her dad was getting impatient. He was out by the plane, his hands behind his back. He had his head down staring at the concrete as he paced back and forth.
Scott should have been here by now. Stacy was worried. Unwelcome thoughts of Scott’s death crossed her mind. She shooed them away. She didn’t like that idea at all. She wouldn’t allow it. Not Scott. Not her awesome big brother. No sir.
Dad would be heartbroken. Dad loved him. He was so proud of Scott. Losing Scott would utterly destroy him.
They hadn’t heard a word from him since the radio broadcasted about the disease spreading downtown. They had been listening to the radio in Scott’s office. It was battery operated.
This was where they were supposed to meet! It was something they planned and talked about many times.
The airport.
Scott’s office.
So where was he?
She whispered, “Damnit, Scott. Come on. I know you’re alive out there somewhere!”
The radio was reporting that the military was attempting to contain the virus. National Guard troops had been deployed downtown. Maybe Scott was with them, helping.
Frank Olson didn’t believe it.
The part about Scott helping, yes, but the military taking control? He didn’t think so.
With twenty years in the Army as a radio operator, Frank knew code words used to keep the public calm; and he knew words that meant bug out. Get out as fast as you can.
These words were all over the radio now.
He stopped pacing, pushed his glasses up on his nose, turned, and walked back into the hangar where Stacy stood. They needed to get out of here right now.
“Stace.”
“Yeah dad?”
“We need to go.”
“Scott’s not here yet.”
“Hon. If we don’t get going soon, we might not make it out of here at all.”
“Can we wait a little longer, dad, please?”
“Honey, it’s been over twenty four hours. Scott should have been here by now. We need to go.”
“No,” she grabbed him by the shoulder and hugged him.” “Please dad, one more hour.”