Haven From Hell: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse

by Won, Mark

  While I jerked Donna off her feet I sliced her behind the knee like I was trying to cut her leg off. She screamed and dropped the gun. Blood was everywhere. I heard the shotgun go off again and caught sight of bodies falling out of the corner of my eye. I scrabbled after the gun and, once partway out from under the table, emptied the clip at Mr. Magog. He fell, choking on his own blood.

  I stood up to survey the wreckage. It was real bad. Everyone that hadn’t been under that table was either dead or dying. James and Deborah Weaver had taken the spread of the shotgun across their chests. Bob Slater had half his skull ripped off with his brains hanging out, Joy Wong was shot in the lung and was whispering, “Jesus save me,” over and over. Then she stopped. Major Sergeant Cecil Sawyer looked like he’d taken a blast to the chest from the shotgun, as did poor Mrs. Annabelle Archer.

  Then things got worse.

  Mr. Magog got shakily to his feet. At first I thought I’d missed or something. But no, he was just dead. Over Tammy’s and Donna’s screams I heard others standing. First Mr. Weaver then his wife. Finally, Annabelle.

  Before they all could get to their feet I came to my senses, grabbed one of those big heavy chairs, and started flailing about. I smashed it down on Mr. Magog’s head. He fell with a satisfying crunch. Then I turned to Annabelle. Her arms got in the way of my swing as she was reaching for me, but I still managed to knock her off her feet. Then I tried bringing the chair down on her from above. After a few glancing blows I managed to land one across the top of her head as she tried to stand. She stayed down.

  Meanwhile, Tammy had dragged Donna out from under the table and was trying to apply pressure to her cut with a cloth napkin. The Weavers went after them, I think, because they were closer. Anyhow, they reached after Tammy but she crawled away. So they grabbed Donna instead. I’d thought she’d been screaming before. They literally ripped her apart. Her arms popped out of their sockets and then they just tore the flesh free. After that they turned on Tammy.

  Tammy bolted through the door to the short hall connecting the other rooms in the half unit to the kitchen/dining area. As the dead followed her, I took Sue by the hand and led her the other way, out to the stairs. As I turned back to slam the door I saw Donna squirming about on the floor, her dead body trying to get to its feet.

  Worst social dinner ever.

  Mr. and Mrs. Page were waiting for us in the hall. Both dressed for bed. Both looking fearful and curious. I yelled, “Get back inside! Lock your fucking doors!” Not very polite, but I was feeling fragile.

  With no way to lock the door to 8B from the outside, I just ran upstairs with Sue. Once we reached security I told Sue to stay put and watch the monitors. Then I grabbed my gun and ran back downstairs to Mr. Magog’s condo. The door was still shut. I used my phone to call the security station, “Hey Sue, you want to hit that yellow button labeled ‘intercom’ and tell everyone to stay where they are.”

  She said, “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m really sorry Sue. I’m going to open this door and shoot everybody still moving.”

  “Be careful.”

  I said, “Don’t even worry, I got this,” and hung up.

  I took a couple deep breaths while Sue announced the emergency, then threw the door open. All I saw was armless Donna leaning against a wall. I shot her. Nothing, no effect. I pulled that trigger like a button masher without a clue until I emptied the entire clip into her. Still no effect, except that she noticed me and began coming my way. The Weavers came shambling into the kitchen followed by a bitten and rent Tammy. For a dead person Tammy still looked pretty good. I closed the door, put my weight against it, and reloaded.

  They hit the door, but lucky for me, couldn’t seem to figure out how the door knob worked. They just kept pounding, but that was one thick steel door. I called Sue again, “This isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I need you to call the dome and ask if anyone has welding experience. Just say it’s an emergency. Then tell whoever it is to go to level 14, in the storage area, and bring the welding cart up to level 8. Can you do that, hon?”

  She said, “Don’t even worry, I got this,” and hung up.

  A long time later, Bill showed up with the stuff and we got to work. By the time we were done the door was welded all the way around. Then I got some power tools and put some giant screws in to seal the deal.

  I headed back up to security and used the intercom, “Attention everybody. The situation is under control. We had a security breach. The breach has been contained. Everyone is currently safe. I would like every adult in the lounge for a briefing. I would prefer couples with children to leave someone with the kids. Pastor Larry, please only bring three people with you.” I made a recording of that and set it on repeat.

  I did not look forward to facing everyone. I had a lot of explaining to do.

  -

  The meeting went better than I’d thought it would. I think my M-16 might have had something to do with it. Anyhow, with so many dead, or worse, no one had any arguments for me. I used Larry to get me a couple of personnel to act as maintenance replacements. I planned on being full time security from then on. No one minded that either.

  Arthur and Natalia Page weren’t too happy about sharing a level with a bunch of undead. Eventually I sold them on the idea that they were perfectly safe behind the reinforced dividing wall. I just made that ‘reinforced’ part up to make them feel good. Apparently, lying to people who depend on you for their very lives is good leadership. I think I read that somewhere.

  I plundered Mr. and Mrs. Weaver’s apartment and Major’s as well. They all had a lot of private firearms. We had more guns than people who knew how to use them. I gave a couple to Sue (Donna had taught her how to shoot) and a few more to anyone else with experience. Bliss took a rifle, which surprised me. Donald, one of the pastor’s flock, claimed proficiency also. He got a shotgun. Robert Parker had done some hunting back in the day so I gave him a nice .308, with a scope. Pete Fuller had done a lot of target shooting as ‘research’ for a certain computer game he’d made. That earned him a full auto P90 submachine gun as well as a 9mm Glock. I remembered that game. It was awesome.

  I also handed out all of our body armor. Between the Weavers, Bob, Major, and I we had enough spare armor for everyone with a gun plus a few others. With days like those, who wouldn’t want body armor?

  -

  The vault was just beginning to settle down again, when we got an incoming radio communication on the shortwave. In a clear masculine voice, “Attention, this is a broadcast to all survivors. A community of safe haven is established along the end of the Wisconsin peninsula. We are in the process of rebuilding civilization. Anyone who can travel here is welcome.” Holy shit, survivors!

  I have to admit, I didn’t exactly know where Wisconsin was. I certainly didn’t know it had a peninsula. But none of that mattered. This was a real shot, an opportunity. I grabbed the microphone and tried getting in touch. It took some doing but, with Sue’s help, we eventually got through.

  “Hello, hello, can you hear me?” I wasn’t sure of protocol.

  It took awhile but we eventually got some solid directions. We had maps too, of course, but it’s nice to get specifics from people already there. They said they numbered over fifty-five thousand people. They actually called their home ‘Haven’. Things were cramped there, but they had plans for improving housing. They’d already reclaimed some farms and a couple of islands. I asked if they had any way to reach us. He said no, not yet. I told them we were on our way. Mark (the guy I was talking to) told us to bring whatever supplies we could because the current food ration was one big fish a day per person. So, if we didn’t like fish we’d be shit out of luck. Good to know.

  Mark was also keen on sharing zombie killing tips. In fact, we got the word ‘zombie’ from him. He’s the one who told us all about ghouls and ogres, too. He called the day everybody changed, ‘The Change’. It was an eye-opening conversation. I guess I owed him a lot for that,
especially the zombie killing information. That stuff was a real life saver.

  I intended to share this information with everyone, but Sue and I were going no matter what anyone else thought. Don’t get me wrong, vault life had saved ours, but survival wasn’t enough. Sitting around waiting to starve would be stupid. Major had said our situation might change and this looked like it.

  We really didn’t have a place big enough to assemble everyone, so I went up top to the dome first. Larry and his people unanimously thought it a good idea to leave as soon as possible. Their conditions were pretty cramped, except for the pool room. Down in the lounge I explained the situation to the rest. The only note of concern came from Don Smith.

  He asked, “What if it’s a trap?”

  More enthused than smart, I replied, “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s like this. If I were some kind of desperate renegade I could travel around looking for victims. Or I could just get a radio working and invite the flies into my web, if you see what I mean. Once we get there they could just shoot us and steal our provisions.”

  Tess Parker said, “What good would the little bit of food we carry do for over fifty-five thousand people? How would it be worth their effort?”

  I was beginning to see Don’s point, “There may not be thousands. I only actually heard one.”

  Judy Hunt thought that we might send a scout. Lorry wondered if only one person could even get through. I volunteered but everybody wanted me to stay. No one else was deemed suitable.

  Eventually, I suggested that we all go as well armed as possible. When we got close the peninsula, I’d drive out ahead and check it out. If it didn’t look like the look of it then I’d head back and we’d flee. If it looked good I’d go in and check it out. If I didn’t come back by a set time then that would mean the end of me.

  Dr. Wright asked, “What if they torture you for our location?” Just when I thought we were already in a dark place.

  “I’ll shoot myself. Don’t think I won’t. I’m a married man. I’ll do what I have to. Also, maybe you could whip up some kind of lethal poison from the infirmary for me.” How’s that for dark, Doc?

  Cindy opined, “Maybe we could just ask them to come and pick us up?” We’ve been over this, you ditz.

  With an exasperated sigh, Natalia replied, “Veeve been ower dis.” I’m glad she didn’t add the ‘you ditz’ part or we’d have had a cat fight fight on our hands. For some reason those weren’t as amusing as they’d used to be.

  Eventually, we all decided to go. I think Phil and Cindy might not have come along except they’d have been left behind, and for them that was even scarier than the trip.

  First I got Bill to help me with our various vehicles. I figured we needed to armor them up a little if we were going to be running over a bunch of zombies and such. Not that we had much to work with. We ended up cannibalizing some of the foreign cars for scrap, then we moved all the supplies that would fit into the various vans, cars, and trucks. After that, I went outside and took a good long look around from on top of the dome. Everything looked clear. Finally, we headed out. There was a long road ahead of us.

  Chapter 5: Finding the Way, Cat Fight, and a Civil Explanation

  We started moving east, once I learned in which direction Wisconsin lay. Our computer had said it would take about twelve hours. With internet access down we had to rely on pre-canned information and paper maps, of all things. My plan was to get in position after two days of driving. I didn’t want everybody exhausted when we got there. Also, I definitely didn’t want to get caught up in any cities. Last I’d seen they all looked real bad.

  I took the lead vehicle, a heavy four wheel drive truck with a reinforced bumper. Sue rode shotgun. About half an hour in, I noticed the occasional car off the side of the road. It looked like one driver after another had suddenly lost control of his car and ended up in the ditch, or plowed into a telephone pole, or upside down and turned the wrong way around. It was just one individual crash after another. I guessed the Change had happened to all those people while they were on the road. Many of the vehicles had some movement within, but none of those zombies got out of their cars. The occasional zombie stumbled toward us. Any on the road I just ran down. The rest we passed on by.

  After a few hours of that the road ahead was suddenly curb to curb cars. It looked like they all just smashed together. We were about a mile away when I called for everyone to stop, and I inched forward so Sue and I could get a closer look. To the right and left cars, trucks, and whatever else were piled up and crashed into one another, spilling over the sides of the road. There must have been over a hundred cars, altogether. We had no way through. There was one zombie just standing in the middle of the road in the center of the pile up. He looked lonely but I didn’t feel inclined to join him.

  That zombie saw us and started to move our way. He seemed to have superior motor function for one of those damned dead monsters. There were a few cars between us, but he didn’t let that slow him down. The first car that got in his way, he just sort of reached down and shoved it aside. I knew, for an experienced based fact, that none of the zombies I’d seen so far had that kind of strength. Then I remembered something Mark had said about all of the slower, clumsy zombies being superhumanly strong, but how the normal walking zombies were beyond even that.

  I told Sue, “That must be an ogre”.

  Just then the ogre decided to push a truck out of his way. Unfortunately, out of his way was directly toward us. The truck hit a minivan which hit a four door which hit some tiny import which dinged our front bumper, nicely.

  Sue said, “We’re to close! Go, go, go, go, go!” Usually she wasn’t so pushy.

  I, calmly and with great care and precision, turned our land craft about, and, with great dignity, made my way back to the main group.

  Over the radio Phil asked, “What are you up to? Burning tires is a childish and entirely puerile waste of our resources! Please quite horsing around. I’d hoped for better from you.” Then, after I really got up to speed, he changed his tune, “What’s wrong? You’re coming toward us to quickly. Slow down!” By the time I came to a screeching halt about three inches from his overpriced German status symbol he was screaming unintelligibly. So that was fun, anyway.

  I yelled at everyone to turn their cars around and start moving. Then I got out of the truck. It was time for some target practice. The ogre looked like he used to be a middle aged man, overweight and balding. I figured I could take him. He was closing at the rate of a jog. I had to wait until he got about five hundred yards away before I even started shooting. Mr. Ready had taken Bob and I out shooting as part of our employment package. I can’t say I excelled, but it sure was fun.

  At first I tried body shots. They had never worked before but I wasn’t making any head shots at that range, anyway. As anticipated, body shots had no effect. At about three hundred yards I started trying for the legs. I emptied over a whole clip without slowing it down. Mark had said shooting them in the legs might slow them down if the caliber were high enough. He also said that ogres could ‘take a lot of punishment to the lower extremities before affecting a change in their speed’. That Mark was turning out to be one smart guy. Finally, I said enough is enough, and at about two hundred yards started trying for the head shot.

  Meanwhile Sue was saying things like, “Why are you even trying? He’s, like, half a mile away.” And, “Why don’t you try harsh language. Maybe he’d notice that.” My favorite was, “Oh look, it’s raining shell casings!” Once he got within one hundred yards, though, she started yelling at me to quit screwing around and get back in the car.

  At about eighty yards I finally put him down with a shot to the head. Simple, really. It would be a lot easier next time.

  Sue was kind of upset with me for a while, but I explained I hadn’t done all that just for fun. I had sped away to get maximum range. I started firing early because I wanted to see just how difficult a telling shot would be. I kept
on until it was dead, because I didn’t want it following us. I don’t think she cared about any of that, so after a while I just said I was sorry.

  We had to backtrack a couple of miles before heading north to try and get around the road block. We managed to get around that roadblock, no problem, but then we ran into another one. Same general situation except there was no ogre. So we backed up again only to find that this was just how the road was going to be. Three miles forward and two miles back.

  I could either try sticking to the side roads or maybe try a whole new route. I talked it over with everyone using the radio. We decided to try both strategies. Instead of east and then north we would try first north and then east. Also, we wouldn’t even bother with main roads.

  The new plan worked out much better. I think our way was made easier by staying away from population centers and off popular roads. We still saw the occasional wreck off the side of the road, and sometimes in the road, but nothing we couldn’t nudge out of the way when we had to. The only problem was that our projected travel time doubled and I was no longer quite as sure of the way.

  Seeing the daylight fading, I asked Sue to help me keep a lookout for a place to stop for the night. Someplace without any zombies would have been nice. The best we could do, with darkness closing in, was a big old farmhouse. It would be a ridiculously tight fit, but it was either that or just keep driving. It didn’t occur to anyone to sleep in the cars. I guess that seemed too dangerous.

  We pulled up a long driveway and around to the front of the main house. There was a wooden fence in the back and what looked like some few acres of turned up dirt all around. The whole countryside had that look to it. I had no real idea where we were. All the road maps I’d gotten off the printer were for the other way. I was reasonably sure we were in Minnesota somewhere, but that was about it. I guess we should have gone back to the silo and gotten more maps before changing course. Oh well.

  Once we all got out of the cars I went up the porch steps to the house. Right off I noticed a real bad smell, but with everyone behind me I didn’t want to back off. I pulled open the weather door and began knocking on the main door. It was a beautiful antique wooden slab with a big cross in the middle, a ton of little carved leaves and things all around, and a little stained glass window up high. No one answered, so I knocked again. I heard some movement on the other side, so I called out.