Breaking my gaze, I looked out at the zombies; they were everywhere and steady coming. My heart sank even lower. We were in a hopeless predicament and it would be a matter of time before the zombie hordes overran us.
“I’m sorry, Zee.” Jones spoke softly.
“It’s okay. I didn’t want to go out like this, but it’s not my choice.”
“Zee?” Brittany’s voice shook.
“Leave her alone,” said Jones, shaking off Brittany.
I turned from the window and went back to our pallet in the center of the room. There was nothing to do but wait. I would never see Simon again. Nothing Brittany or anyone said could make it easier for me. I had to accept the inevitable. I crawled under my blanket and buried myself under the covers. I could hear the others walking around and I wanted so badly to cry and feel sorry for myself. I couldn’t. These were my last hours. I would go out like the kickass soldier I was, fighting tooth and nail to survive. To cry would mean defeat and sour the others, I wouldn’t do it. Not for me, not for anything. I stayed under the covers and waited.
After a while, I began to get worried and then impatient. Why weren’t they breaking down the door and killing us? I threw off the covers and looked for my team. Brittany had come and sat next to me. Jones and Charley were at the window.
I looked at Brittany. She said nothing, but it was in her face. Something was wrong. They knew something that I didn’t. I brought my face in closer to Brittany’s and she blinked, it was true, something was wrong.
“You tell me right now!” My voice shook like I couldn’t believe. My threat was not veiled; it shone in my voice as clear as day.
Brittany teared up and closed her eyes. I turned to Jones, he stared at me. He probably had been staring at me the whole time. I got to my feet and our eyes never left each other’s. I walked to him as fast as I could. Before I could say a word and deliver my threat, he stopped me.
“Look down.”
I pressed my face to the window and looked down by the side of the house. I didn’t hear them before, but now, I heard them as if they were in the room with me. As if someone had turned the radio up, loudly. Zombies were screaming and howling and feasting; feasting on a body, feasting on Thompson. I collapsed and passed out.
I woke to louder noise. I didn’t need to be at the window to know their number grew. I could hear them and feel them all around me. I lay on the pallet. I got up and went back to the window for another look. Jones watched me in silence. I felt him watching and as long as he didn’t speak, I was perfectly fine with the staring. I looked down at the masses of zombies and found Thompson’s body. The creatures pulled him apart and many feasted on him. I left the window and started pacing. Back and forth, faster and faster I went. Jones watched me the whole time. I kept throwing distractions up in my mind, trying to drown the sound of the zombies and make peace with reality. Try as I might, I failed.
I stood against a wall and shut my eyes tightly, rocking. With clenched fists that dug into my palms, I tried to hold on. I told myself it would be over soon and I could hold on and make it. Tighter and tighter I dug into my palms, maybe the pain would distract and outweigh the screams and howls that echoed in my head.
Visions of Thompson’s body flying from one zombie to the next, like Frisbees, crept into my thoughts. I opened my eyes to find everyone staring at me. Jones and Charley from the window, Brittany from by the door. Only Brittany moved. The door was wide open. She looked downstairs toward the living-room door and then back at me. My guess is that she was on guard duty.
Rather than speak, I closed my eyes again and concentrated on breathing. In and out, slower and slower I breathed. There was nothing to say, nothing to do. I would wait with the others and in time they would leave.
Again, I went to the window to check their progress. Why should Thompson affect me this way? I didn’t even like the guy. And why was my team keeping things from me? Did they expect I would go off the rails once I saw Thompson? I was stronger than that. I have seen dozens of people eaten by zombies. I have seen dozens more, turn into zombies, some I knew.
I looked at Jones and his eyes darted back and forth, evaluating me. I thought of what he did last night, his checking up on me, and I wondered how I fared under his gaze. I was his second and needed to prove it.
I steeled myself and boldly gazed out the window like it wasn’t there. Zombies didn’t bother me one bit. I thought of home and my family and glared out at them in defiance. Their chewing noises meant nothing. I was home free until I made the mistake of looking down. I saw Thompson’s head roll out into the open. His eyes looked up at me and they were judging me. I collapsed, again.
I woke in the center of the room on the pallet. Stirring awake, I felt a hand on me, rubbing up and down. I opened my eyes to find Brittany comforting me. “I’m sorry, Zee.”
“You knew?”
“We did. I hoped you wouldn’t see it.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know, I imagine—”
“No, not that. How long have I been out?”
“Oh. A few hours.”
“Look, Zee—”
“It’s okay, Britt. I should have known it would happen.”
“How are you, Zee?” Jones came over and asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You better be. We’re getting out of here in a little while and I need you fired up and ready to go.”
“Are they leaving?”
“Most of them have left already,” said Jones. “Look. I didn’t think that would happen when we tossed the body. I should have thought of all the possibilities. I’m sorry. I know he was your friend and that was not the way for anybody to go. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
Jones gave his famous smile to calm me. His brown eyes met mine and I settled inside.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. How soon can we leave?”
“I’m hoping for soon, however, the reality is that we may be here until nightfall.” Jones looked sad.
Charley came over and handed me a bottle of water. “We had lunch already.”
I still didn’t like him. I needed somebody to blame and he was it. Brittany was at my side and poking me in the back, so I politely smiled at the man and took the bottle. I can’t lie and say that it wasn’t refreshing, it was fantastic.
I ignored the smile he gave me and stood. I didn’t hear the zombies anymore, their number must be down tremendously.
“Zee, what are you doing?”
I ignored Brittany’s question and walked to the window. This window had proven to be the death of me. I wanted to conquer it. Jones and Charley came swiftly to my sides and Brittany stood behind me, ready to catch me if I fell. I ignored them all and looked out into zombie world.
The zombies were scattering. Where Thompson once laid, there was nothing but a red stain. Every piece of him devoured. I quickly looked away and focused on the distant zombies, trying to figure out where they were going. It would be dark soon and contrary to my wishes, this road trip had taken a serious detour.
We were within walking distance of salvation and had been stopped at the Pearly Gates. We would make it, I was sure of that. It was a matter of time and opportunity and we had both.
Chapter 16
Later that evening, we gathered our bags and we readied to leave. I put my pack on my back and held a knife as Jones opened the front door. One by one we crept out into the evening air. The route we took led us to the side of the house where Thompson’s body had lain. I hated he chose that route and with each step I cringed.
Decency and common sense would tell me not to look as I pass, but I had to look. It would only take a second to glance over and though I fought the urge not to look, I looked. Thompson was gone, not one trace of him remained other than the blood smeared sidewalk on which they tossed him.
I looked and kept moving, watching our rear for zombies. Though we heard them, we didn’t see them. We made our way up the road and followed it. Charley tr
ied to get an abandoned car to run; the dead battery dashed our hopes.
Ahead, a truck with a half-eaten body hanging out the passenger’s side door. I couldn’t tell by looking at him if the poor soul drove the truck. We stood guard during Charley’s hopeless attempt at starting the truck. Another dead battery and to make matters worse, it sat on its rim, missing the left rear tire. I can only imagine the poor soul making his getaway in the truck and the back tire blowing out on him. It seems his luck ran like ours. Hopefully we would fare better than he.
We wasted enough time on cars and decided not to make another attempt. We needed to get away from the area. The camp was close and if we hoofed it, we could get there before it got too late. I kept my position in the rear and kept searching for stray zombies. All it would take is for one zombie to see us and alert the rest. Like I had done in the store, my knife was ready to fly into the skull of our would-be betrayer.
Further up the road we stopped. I caught up to them to see what everyone stared at, a building not far from us, a police station. Two cars were out front and both looked drivable, meaning no visible damage.
“Are we going to go down and take a look?”
“Yeah,” said Jones. He looked around the area for zombies. “I don’t know how much time we are going to get but we should take a look.”
Brittany, Jones, and I were soldiers. Charley was our wild card. He could handle himself in a fight, but he was the unknown factor we had to work with. I eyed him to see how nervous he was. His iron jaw made me angry.
“All right,” said Jones. “Baker, Dushell, flank out and stand guard. Charley and I will go in. If it’s clear, we’ll signal and then you come in. Clear?”
“Clear.”
“Clear.”
“Let’s go.”
Brittany and I left together. We went first and split up halfway to the building. She went left and I went right. I hid behind a tree and watched the guys creep toward the station house. Charley checked the first car while Jones checked the other. Jones looked over at Charley and then to us. Jones held his finger to his throat and motioned like he was slicing his throat, no hope of using the cars. Carefully they approached the door to the station and crept inside.
I checked all around for zombies and then checked on Brittany. She waved, the coast was clear. With that, I resumed watching the door and waiting. Occasionally I checked the area, for the most part my attention focused on the door in front of me. After what seemed like ours, Jones came to the door and waved us in. With a last look behind me, I ran after Brittany. As I passed the car nearest the door, I saw the remains of a severed finger looped around a key ring. The finger was skeletal and the key was in the ignition, turned to the run position. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the rest, with the dried blood all over the car; obviously someone had tried to make their getaway and was pulled from the car. No doubt kicking and screaming.
I dismissed the images forming in my head and went to the police station’s door. I entered last. Blood smeared the walls and I would be hard pressed to say that they were only blood stains. Overturned desks, stray papers, and objects littered the floor.
Jones held a sawed-off shotgun and pointed it at me. “Bang.”
“Funny, ha ha.”
“Relax, Baker, the room’s cleared. You look like you are walking on eggshells.”
“It pays to be cautious, isn’t that what they beat into us?”
“Yeah, you are right about that. Catch.”
Jones threw me the rifle. I caught it and examined it. It had slimy goo on the barrel. Other than that, perfection.
“I pulled it out of the hands of a copper. Both his legs are missing and the rest . . . let’s just say I hope he was dead when it all started.”
“Thanks. Any bullets?”
It had been missing for a while, but it was back. That evil mischievous grin I had come to expect from him. He always held something back. He held up a policeman’s belt. Green slime covered the belt. It dripped and reeked. That belt was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I smiled ear to ear and grabbed it before he changed his mind.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. You can thank me properly later.”
Jones winked and turned around. I don’t know if he turned so fast to keep me from responding or if for another reason, I know gratitude welled up in me for his kindness. That “thank me later joke” is big all over the world and most people take it with ease. I’m the type of person who responds to statements like that when I should laugh and go about my business. Jones was saving me more embarrassment and with me, there was plenty.
I checked to make sure my gun loaded properly and followed him, throwing the policeman’s belt over my shoulder. It reeked to high heaven. It was my protection and for that, I would ignore the smell. I walked behind Jones, guarding his six. The rifle felt good in my hands and with it, I had renewed hope for our survival.
Jones went to the desk and with him on one side and I on the other, we rifled it for anything useful. Nothing was there. The room had several desks. We divided up and searched them all. While Jones left them were they lay, I turned them upright to make searching easier. An upright desk felt better somehow. I found a box of ammo in one desk. I shoved it into my pack. It wasn’t the ammo for the shotgun. I was hoping one of the others found a weapon for it. I continued my search by going into a conference room to search there. The room held nothing useful. On a side table were radios. I turned one on and heard a hissing sound from it. Though it thrilled me to know that it worked, I left it, believing it useless. Brittany carried a small radio, it took a nine-volt battery and we never came across one. These had batteries that wouldn’t fit her radio.
Jones met me with an evil grin again, when I came out. He held up his treasure. He found two more batons so he and Charley could now swing two of the sticks each during our next zombie encounter. Jones put them in his pack and we both left to go check on the others in the back of the station.
We descended stairs into semi-darkness. Light shone through several small square windows. The area we were in was the jail section. I read the words on the overhead sign. Before us were several cells. We couldn’t see the front of them because of the wall we faced. My heart skipped a beat thinking someone was in the cells, left trapped after the zombie attack. I raced around to the front of the cells and saw they were all open. Various body parts were scattered among them, prisoners.
Brittany was there. She stared absentmindedly at the cells. I saw a gun in her hand and it excited me. Thank god we found weapons. “Britt?”
“Hey.” Brittany turned and smiled at me.
“What are you doing?”
“I was trying to figure out how they got them.”
“The cells are open, Britt. They walked in and got them.” My friend scared me.
Brittany turned to me with a confused look. Her forehead riddled with tension. “Zee.” She held up keys on a giant key ring. “I unlocked the cells. They were locked when we came down here. Unless they were zombies and smashed themselves trying to get out, how did the zombies get in to get them?”
The look of confusion she held spread to me. I wondered how long she had been staring at the cell contemplating her riddle. Was she finally cracking? What did it matter? I put an arm around her and turned her away from the cells. Her face lacked color and plain white was not a good color on her. I walked her away while Jones looked at the cells.
Around the corner we stopped. Charley tried desperately to pry open a metal gun cabinet. He saw us and took a deep breath. And then he took out his baton and started hitting at the lock on the cabinet. The horrible sound it made echoed. Charley threw his weight into every blow and eventually the cabinet tired of the assault and revealed its treasures.
Everyone gasped as we saw the bounty in the cabinet. Inside its steel doors stood rifles. They were nowhere as good as army issue, but they were rifles, semi-automatics. Charley picked up a rifle with a l
ong clip attached to it, obviously his choice of weapon. At the bottom of the cabinet were more clips. He scooped up the clips and put them in his bag.
Jones chose a Dillinger and a rifle. There were only a few bullets for the Dillinger. I knew from our talks around camp he loved that gun and as soon as I saw it, I predicted it would find its way to his pocket.
Brittany grabbed a rifle and tossed it to me. I barely had time to position myself to catch it and not drop the one I carried. She chose an identical one for herself and found two spare clips. I read the writing on the inside panel of the closet and discovered we possessed confiscated drug artillery.
We checked our weapons, proud to find them. We didn’t get a chance to celebrate our find, we heard a zombie howl. We flew into army mode. While the others double-checked their weapons, I managed to halfway shove the rifle into my duffel bag and fastened the belt around my waist. We secured our packs and ran toward the door. If zombies were on the move, this dungeon was the last place we wanted to be, it was a death trap.
Racing up the stairs, we met our first zombie. Jones was in the lead and shot it. “We got to get out of here, now!”
Jones led and we followed. I let the others go first and guarded our rear. I had no idea why I had done it, this was survival time and I was in survival mode. I told myself not to do it again and continued behind the others. Into the fading light we went. Zombies were coming from the south, the direction we wanted to travel. Jones began running in the opposite direction, away from the camp, away from Simon. It wasn’t that many of them. “Wait!”
“What?” Jones asked after stopping.
“There is only a handful, we can take them out.”
Jones assessed the situation. He looked at us all, we were more than willing. “All right, let’s do this.”
I didn’t have time to count zombies. My best guess would put their number at forty. Taking them out and continuing made perfect sense and would get us to the camp tonight. We dropped our bags and loaded up.
Zombie Zora Page 13