Haven From Hell: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse

by Won, Mark

  The older folks gave up on crossing on the guard rail as a bad idea, so I brought a couple of canoes and the rowboat over instead. Then we emptied the one semi of everything. That took the rest of the week. We used the canoes and a bunch of boards to make a little floating bridge, just about big enough to walk across, so we could move everything. We got tons of food. Literally. All spam. Many, many different kinds of spam. Forty tons of spam. At least that was Mr. Stein’s best guess.

  Chapter 6: Hope, Fresh Snow, and Standing Alone

  On the one hand I was becoming increasingly worried about the unseasonably cold weather. I was becoming impatient to get a crop in. On the other hand our needs were taken care of for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t wait to crack that other semi open. It was on tomorrow’s agenda. That’s when the house phone rang.

  I snatched that phone off the wall and had it to my ear in a heartbeat. “Hello!”

  “Help me, I’m in trouble.” A little girl’s voice. All trembling and scared.

  “Where are you?” Best to get to the point. I didn’t even know what could cause the telephone to start up again, but I figured I didn’t have much time.

  “I’m in my bedroom.” I could hear her tears.

  “What’s you’re address, sweetheart?” I hoped she knew.

  “One nine three two White Street. Across from the cemetery.”

  “Okay, what city?” Please be close.

  “Lawarenceville!” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Are any grownups around?” I asked.

  “Yeah...”

  “Could you put one on the phone?”

  “No...”

  Well, why not? Oh. “Are you alone in the house?”

  “My daddy’s locked in the basement. My mommy’s in the kitchen. She’s dead.” A painful silence.

  “Is your mommy still moving?”

  “No, she’s dead.” Could have been worse.

  “Okay, I’m on my way. Don’t move. It will take me at least an hour to get there. I’m John. What’s you’re name, sweetheart?”

  “Hope.”

  -

  Anna wasn’t too happy about me going it alone, but Hope seemed desperate. I didn’t have time to gather everyone in to talk about it. The only men in the house with me at the time were wounded.

  Everybody else, except Anna, was trying to dig some last minute fence holes out by Mr. Franklin’s place. I say ‘last minute’ because it looked like we were in for another freeze before spring finally got there. A simple looking fence had already been set up around each house. Another had been positioned part way along our bank of the river. The women had built most of it while we’d been hauling in supplies.

  Anna was tending the injured and looking after all the little kids, those to young to work (in spite of what Anna had said earlier, most of the Elementary School kids had made it home to their families, and from there to the church).The only reason I wasn’t out there with them was because I’d just replaced my maul handle. The old one had broke.

  I asked Anna to stay on the line as long as it remained open, then I went out to the car. I took my shotgun with me and a pistol that Mr. Schmidt had given me. Also, my newly fixed maul.

  Going from truck to floating bridge to minivan was becoming a real pain. I regretted the waste of time.

  Once on the road I felt a bit better. Doing something has always been easier for me than just sitting around worrying. I pushed the minivan up to eighty and ignored the stop signs. I wished a cop had been around to stop me. I could have used the help.

  It had started to snow within the first five minutes. It looked to me like the overcast was finally going to deliver on the threat that it had been promising for the last two weeks. I had hoped it would be merely rain, but with the temperature down to about 15 degrees there was no chance of that. I had the heater on, but I put on my favorite stocking cap anyway, the cap Mom had make for me. Red and green with camels running around it. She’d loved camels.

  Big fat flakes came tumbling out of the sky. Pure white and so huge you wouldn’t have needed a magnifying glass to see the pattern in each one. I’ve always loved the way a wet snow clings to the tree branches. Even before all this, it made the world look like a better time.

  Not real good for driving, though, and it didn’t help when the wind picked up. I put the pedal down and went flat out, trying to beat the storm. I thought that if I couldn’t drive back that same day, then at least I could keep Hope safe until the road cleared. That’s when I hit the first drift.

  It wasn’t much, as those things go. Just a little thing, about a foot high. But at over 90 miles per hour it was like I hit a sand bar in a motorboat. The minivan tried slithering this way and that, spinning about, until it finally crashed off the side of the road. It took me a second to realize I was faced back the way I’d come.

  The car was still running and (miraculously) not stuck, so I got turned the right way around and started off again. Much slower than before. I’d been incredibly lucky not to have flipped the car or planted myself in roadside ditch. I barely got up to 40 before I could feel the road growing treacherous, so I cut back the speed even more.

  I saw a big snow drift up ahead and had to make a choice. Either accelerate and try to ram through or give it up and stop. My dad always said, “Wishing never makes it so,” so I slowed to a stop and got out. Good thing too. I never would have made it.

  I still had a couple of miles to go to get to the city. I had to chose between the maul and the shotgun. I couldn’t run very well with both. I grabbed my maul and started hiking. The snow was really coming down by then. The hike wasn’t as bad as the drive had made me think it would be. The crosswind was harsh, but nothing compared to what it would have been like taking it in the teeth.

  After a bit I saw someone up ahead, walking in the same direction as me. He seemed hurt because he was having trouble walking. In a flash of stupidity I almost called out. Instead, I snuck up on it until I could see it wasn’t having trouble walking just because of the snow. It was one of them.

  I crept up behind it until its stench filled my sinuses. Those things were really starting to stink. It must have heard my feet crunching in the snow, because it turned around just in time to catch my maul with its face. Teeth flying everywhere, bone sticking out, it fell flat on it’s back. I’d struck too low and only hit it in the mouth instead of its upper skull. That had always been good enough with a 12 gauge, but apparently not with a maul. Curious.

  That got me thinking. I’d had an extensive talk with the doctor, the reverend, and Mr. Stein (who, it turned out, was also a doctor, but not the real kind). Doctor Adams had done an autopsy on one of the zombies and he’d said those things had ‘no life processes occurring’. The reverend said that he suspected ‘literal and direct demonic involvement’ but couldn’t be sure without more science being done. Dr. Stein asked me what I thought.

  I wondered at them, why did they stink later on but not at the very first. Why had they started to look like meat gone bad? Were they rotting? They all said that made sense if the things were dead. With all the bullet holes in some of them, they sure looked dead. I’d hoped they were. If they were rotting then they wouldn’t be around long once things warmed up. I figured they couldn’t walk around as just a bunch of bones.

  I’d also talked to them about how long it takes for a dead body to freeze through. Dr. Stein liked that. He said that that it was hopeful either way. They would either freeze or decompose. And frostbite should ‘render muscle function inexecutable’. Dr. Stein volunteered to help the doctor on another autopsy. They also wanted a ‘live’ specimen to experiment on. I’d said sure. Next time I was out I’d just whistle one up. That got a laugh.

  With that zombie laid out in front of me things didn’t look so good, though. First off, the temperature had been freezing all day and that thing was still moving just fine. Well, not fine, but not frozen solid, either. Also, it wasn’t rotting. Rotting
stops in the cold. That thing still stunk just as bad as ever. Very disappointing.

  Nothing for it, so I bashed its brains in and marched on. After awhile I saw the big green population sign for Lawarenceville (population 4104), and things got a bit more hectic.

  Those things were all over the place. I wanted to keep out of sight but night was over an hour away, and I didn’t know the city all that well. When I’d set out I’d hoped to just drive until I found that cemetery Hope had mentioned, but now that wasn’t an option. I figured I could hot wire a car, if I had to, but that wouldn’t help with all the snow still drifting.

  I had no plan when I started my search. I went from one parked car to another, keeping low. Dumb idea. First one zombie saw me, then another. They moaned. That was new to me. Pretty soon they were moaning up and down the street all lurching in my direction. Time to Run.

  My dad always said, “Running’s not a plan. Running’s what you do when a plan fails,” and boy, he sure was right. I think he got that one from a classic old monster movie, too. I should have listened better.

  I heard some loud screeching from behind me and just knew something bad was back there and closing fast. My first thought was it must be a ghoul (though, we still didn’t have any set names for them). An uncommonly verbose ghoul. To go along with the uncommonly verbose zombie horde.

  I didn’t bother to glance back. I knew how fast those things were. I kept moving forward while I spun around with a wild roundhouse swing. By the grace of God I’d caught the darn thing in the middle of its jump! I’d managed to smash it to the pavement with one blow, caving in its side. It got up fast, but not fast enough. I grabbed it by the neck with one hand so it couldn’t dodge and swung that maul with the other. The ax end cracked its head and I was off running again, before the zombies could catch up.

  I was developing an idea on the run. Maybe I could draw them all out on foot then circle around behind… Another ghoul screech sounded out, somewhere in the snowy distance.

  At least they were noisy enough to advertise their coming. That seemed real senseless to me. Why would they do that? The zombies from town were all dangerously quiet, just waiting for a moment to strike. The city zombies were all loudmouthed and stupid. I figured that with more zombies around it must’ve been more to their advantage to call to each other whenever they saw someone to murder. That was my guess, anyway.

  Ahead I saw an old tobacco barn still standing. You know the type. Made out of brick and with stone steps leading up to the door. Big windows high up. I swung my maul at that door and in it crashed. Inside was an empty and wide open space. Nobody had stored tobacco in it for decades but it was still used as a meeting place for city folk. I’d heard they had dances and school plays and such in it. I saw there were big heavy wooden steps leading up to the second story loft. I took the stairs three at a time before turning around to see what followed me.

  In came a bunch of rotting corpses. I pulled back and hoped they hadn’t seen me. They kept on moaning. After a minute I heard them trying to climb the stairs, so I knew they’d found me. I moved back over toward them and swung that maul. I broke out the loft guardrail on the right and left; then I moved down some steps and did it some more.

  Those clumsy things couldn’t face up to the stairs. They just kept falling over themselves, like back at the school. Slowly, clumsily they made their way up. For every step one would fall off the side but another would take its place.

  Now that I’d had a chance to rest I looked for a way out. I looked out the windows. What a nightmare! The whole town must have shown up to greet me. All the snow had been churned into an ugly slush beneath their dead feet. They surrounded the building, with most being at the front, trying to get inside. Since I couldn’t get through that crowd there was no safe way out through a window. I’d thought maybe I could have slipped out the back, but there were just too many.

  I saw another stairs on the other side of the loft so I ran around and started whacking out the steps. None of them had even started to climb the second set of steps until I went over there and showed them where it was. Just as well that I knocked a few steps out when I did, though.

  Back at the top of the only stairs left, I stood and waited for their approach. They had filled the whole barn by then and were making their way up to the top, when I heard that ghoul scream again. It sounded much too close. I cast about and caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. That darn thing was right there in the loft with me! How did that happen! I saw it clinging to the rafters looking down on me, with its freaky long tongue sticking out, slithering around its lips. Then I screamed.

  Down it dropped, up went my maul. I hit it in the midriff and flung it like I was forking hay. I pitched it down on the floor so hard that I think I heard a board crack. Its bone tipped fingers were scrabbling to get hold of me anyway they could. I stomped my foot on its chest and swung that maul right down to it, but it jerked aside so I missed its head and hit the floor instead. It was scratching the hell out of my pants, cutting me up some, and I’d had enough. I brought my maul down again and clubbed it a good one. Just in time too. I had some company right about then.

  Seems that while I was busy being distracted by the ghoul the zombies were finally cresting the stairs. Bastards. If they were going to start using tactics this was going to get tough. I started swinging high and they started falling for the last time. I had some hectic work cut out for me as I knocked them down, one by one. I couldn’t retreat, I had to press them back to the stairs. Once I got close I used my maul as a battering ram to force the front one back into his buddies. They all went spilling over the side as I moved down the steps a pace. There I made my stand.

  With them all coming at me only one at a time, it was just like putting in a good day’s work back home. One swing at a time, with them moving forward at a nice slow pace. Reminded me of busting up stumps.

  I heard another ghoul crying out. That worried me some so I smashed a step in front of me and backed up a step. By then I could see the zombies trying to climb the other stairs, the ones I had busted up earlier. They couldn’t make the leap. I was careful to only break one step on the stairs I was on. I wanted them to keep coming.

  A window crashed in and there was another damn ghoul. I really hate those things. It sprang toward me straight away, jumping right over my head. The horror twisted in mid air and grabbed me on the back. I hadn’t seen that one coming. Deep scratches all along my sides, around my face, a bite on the back of my neck. I swung that maul right up over my head like I was trying to break my own back. With the edge side I was using I would have killed myself if the ghoul had let go.

  But it didn’t. I don’t think they’re built that way. Once it had me in hand, it couldn’t help itself, it was a grapple to the finish. Good for me, though. My blade had sunk deep into its back and I used that to hoist the thing up and around, with it biting and scratching the whole way. I slung it down on the steps and stomped its head just once. That was all the time I had before still more zombies made it up the steps.

  Even with the new cuts I was feeling okay. I mean, sure I was trapped, everything seemed hopeless, and I was due to die soon, but so what? I was hammering the hell out of those things!

  Sometime later I heard a new zombie noise. A loud roaring noise. I just knew that had to be one of the super strong ones, and ogre. I was feeling up to the challenge. It surprised me by not entering through the door, though.

  With a tremendous crash, huge chunks of brick flew inward and a six foot six giant of a monster plowed right through the wall. Came straight at me, too. No slowing down, it swept aside its lesser cousins, and up the stairs it came.

  I had been considering this possibility for some time, believe it or not. As it thundered up the stairs I drew my pistol and aimed for its head. I pulled the trigger about ten times (I wasn’t counting), before finally hitting it, among many other places, in the left eye. Its face looked like hamburger. Maybe not as good shooting as Mr. Ott
enbocker, but good enough for me.

  I wondered if the big man ogre would have been stronger than the receptionist ogre we’d encountered at the propane distribution center. It didn’t seem like it (the receptionist ogre had been pretty strong, too), but I couldn’t tell. How could they be equally strong, though? ‘He’ had been bigger. Very confusing.

  At the time I had other worries, of course. They just kept coming and I just kept slamming them down, sending them straight back to Hell. They came up those stairs through the dusk; they came on through the night. I slew more zombies by the haunted moonlight than by the fading dusk. By the time Apollo’s beams touched those horror stained steps they were covered with the gore, brains, and blood of an entire city. Mighty slippery, too.

  By then the tobacco barn looked like the charnel house for a troupe of crazed killers. The whole ground floor was covered with a pile of bodies. At the stair they were heaped up almost right to the loft.

  I must have fallen asleep sometime after the last of them had fallen. I think I remember just standing there for a minute or two, with no more in sight. I woke up freezing cold in the mid morning; I got up still seeking Hope. I hoped I could find her. In my addled state I figured she was probably dead. After all, If I could barely survive the night, how could she?

  Teeth chattering, frozen to the bone, I wondered if maybe I was one of them. I felt dead through and through.

  ‘Let us not become weary in doing good.’ my dad always used to say. Alive or dead I still had a job to do. I shambled myself over to the broken window and screamed out as loud as I could. I wanted to draw in as many as would come, if there were any left. Then I scooped up some snow from the sill and got a drink.

  The snow had stopped falling sometime in the night and now the sun was shining. With no zombies in sight I waded over that giant pile of corpses and eventually got through the door.