Zombie Apocalypse: The Chad Halverson Series

by Bryan Cassiday

  Indeed, a pack of creatures had spotted them on the sidewalk opposite them and was preparing to cross the street through the abandoned cars.

  Mannering kept chuckling.

  “You need to get a grip,” said Becker.

  Mannering stopped laughing. “So what do we do now?”

  “We fix my vehicle.”

  Halverson approached the upended motor cart and inspected it. It was tipped on its side and the front axle was clearly broken.

  “Nobody’s fixing that,” he said.

  “We’ve only got room for four people in the remaining two carts,” said Reba.

  “The question is, which four?” said Becker.

  “It was your cart that got busted,” said Mannering.

  “It could just as easily have been yours.”

  Victoria put into words what everybody else was thinking but didn’t want to say. “We could dump out some of the moneybags and put somebody in the back of a cart.”

  “No way,” said Becker.

  “Absolutely not,” said Mannering.

  “Hell no,” said Reba.

  “That money’s not gonna do us much good if everybody in the world is dead,” said Halverson.

  “We don’t know that everybody’s dead,” said Becker. “Frankly, that’s hard for me to swallow. It’s a big world out there. The idea that a single virus could wipe out the entire population of earth is flat-out nonsense.”

  “The black death nearly did it back in the Middle Ages.”

  “The fact is it didn’t do it.”

  “Then who wants to stay behind?”

  Nobody answered.

  “We don’t have a whole lot of time here, people, to figure this out,” said Mannering. “Those things are getting nearer every minute.”

  A throng of the creatures shuffled relentlessly down the sidewalk toward them.

  “I say we leave Halverson behind,” said Becker.

  “Why?” said Mannering.

  “He’s the one that caused this missile attack in the first place. If it wasn’t for him, we’d still have three carts.”

  “If it wasn’t for him, we’d all be lying dead here beside these motor carts.”

  “But we wouldn’t even have been attacked if it wasn’t for him. I say Halverson stays behind.”

  “That’s funny. I was thinking of nominating you to stay behind.”

  Becker did a double take. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re my second choice.”

  “You know why I picked you?”

  “Because all you care about is your own skin?”

  “No. Because all you care about is your own skin. Remember when you tried to abscond with the money?”

  “He has a point,” said Reba.

  “Yeah,” said Victoria. She faced Becker. “Why should we do you any favors?”

  “You couldn’t even save your own daughter,” said Becker. “What gives you the right to decide who stays behind?”

  Victoria’s face drained of blood. She looked ill at the mention of Shawna.

  “You ought to watch your mouth,” Halverson told Becker, grabbing Becker by the lapels of his jacket.

  “You ought to do the right thing and stay behind because you’re the one causing all of our problems,” said Becker, trying to disentangle himself from Halverson’s grip.

  Sneering, Halverson shoved Becker away from him.

  Becker stumbled backward. Recovering his balance he smoothed his jacket as though it had been contaminated.

  “If we all kill each other, we’ll have plenty of room in the carts,” said Mannering.

  “I’m the only one here fit to make a decision. I’m an ex-senator. I know how to lead. None of you do. You’ve all proven yourselves unfit for leadership. And I say Halverson stays behind.”

  Becker walked over to his upended cart, retrieved one of the moneybags that had spilled onto the cracked cement sidewalk, and hauled the sack to Victoria’s motor cart. He proceeded to hike the sack into the back of the cart with a grunt.

  “Now get out of the cart,” he told Halverson.

  “What about the other moneybag on the sidewalk?” put in Mannering.

  “That’s Halverson’s cut. We’re not greedy. We’ll leave it for him. We’re not monsters here.”

  Mannering snickered. “And besides our not being monsters, it won’t fit in the remaining carts, anyway.”

  Becker gave Mannering a look.

  Halverson didn’t budge from his seat. He was damned if he was going to take orders from Becker.

  Becker confronted Halverson. “Well, what’s taking you so long?”

  The zombies directly behind them crept closer, lurching and scrabbling down the sidewalk, while the creatures on the other side of the street tried to blaze a trail through the labyrinth of cars parked on the street.

  Somehow a tall, reedy, black twentysomething male creature had gotten farther through the cars than his companions. The creature had a hatchet face and wore faded blue jeans. A white rope instead of a belt held its jeans up. The creature screwed up its face, extended its scraggly bony hands, and closed in on Victoria.

  Halverson whipped the Mossberg Persuader around, squeezed the trigger, and blew the creature’s face off.

  “We’re running out of time,” said Halverson.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  “You mean you’re running out of time,” said Becker. “Your moneybag is over there waiting for you.” He pointed at the moneybag lying on the sidewalk next to the disabled motor cart.

  “I said, we’re running out of time,” reiterated Halverson.

  “Then I suggest you get out of that cart and start running because you’re the one who doesn’t have a ride,” said Becker.

  “He has a gun, though,” said Mannering, watching them with interest.

  “He’ll need one to fight off the ghouls.”

  “You miss my point.”

  “What are you trying to say? Don’t beat around the bush. Spit it out.”

  “I’m saying he has a gun and you don’t. Why should he take orders from you?”

  “Because I’m the leader now.”

  “Who the hell put you in charge?” demanded Reba.

  “I’m the only one here with any experience in leadership.”

  “And you’re the one who tried to steal our money.”

  “Fuck him,” Mannering told Reba. “Let’s beat it.”

  Reba and Mannering climbed into their motor cart. Reba took the wheel.

  Halverson and Victoria followed suit. Victoria took the driver’s seat.

  Zombies started groping at Becker’s sleeves. Terrified, he fought them off, punching and kicking them. He couldn’t stand the sensation of their decomposing faces on his fists, which sank into the gunky rot and slid around before hitting bone.

  He knew nothing about fighting, anyway. The only fighting he knew about was political infighting. Still, he punched and kicked for all he was worth. He knew he was dead meat if those things got ahold of him.

  Victoria fired her motor cart’s engine. She and Halverson pulled away.

  Reba twisted the key in her motor cart’s ignition. The battery wheezed. The engine didn’t turn over.

  “Do it again,” Mannering urged her, his expression tense.

  Frantically, Reba turned the key again.

  A zombie swiped at Mannering’s head. Mannering ducked.

  “Keep it turned,” he told Reba.

  The engine sputtered to life.

  Reba started the cart forward.

  Becker broke free of a ghoul’s grasp, bolted after the cart, snagged Reba’s arm, and wrenched her out of the driver’s eat.

  As Reba’s foot came off the gas pedal, the cart slowed down.

  Reba screamed when Becker flung her away from the cart. She stumbled and fell into the road, where a pack of zombies were threading their way through the derelict serried vehicles.

  Lying on her back, paralyzed with fear, she didn’t know what to do. She kn
ew she had to act quickly—whatever she did. Creatures surrounded her and were already scrabbling for her as she lay on the asphalt.

  When she tried to stand up amidst the groping moldering hands, she realized she had twisted her ankle or worse during her fall. She would not be able to run if she stood. She had to come up with another plan.

  She weighed her options in nanoseconds. Running was out of the question. As was fighting. She couldn’t very well fight off all these creatures as she lay helpless on her back. Besides, she didn’t have a weapon. Picking a battle here would be insanity on her part.

  She seized on the only option that remained to her, as far as she saw it. She decided to slide under the nearest car, just as a short, stocky male creature grabbed her leg.

  She kicked free of the creature’s grasp and slid on her back under the car.

  The problem was she didn’t like being enclosed in tight places. She had barely any room to maneuver underneath the low chassis. The greasy chassis was less than an inch away from her face. A drop of grease fell onto her cheek.

  She didn’t know if she had claustrophobia. All she knew was she felt like she was suffocating wedged under the car.

  She turned her head to her right and saw a zombie getting down on its hands and knees beside the car. The creature reached under the car and tried to pull her out. She felt the creature’s hand tugging on her thigh. She swatted the thing’s hand away with her hand.

  She screamed.

  Maybe if she screamed, Hank and the others would help her, she decided. She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  She felt trapped.

  It was getting even worse as she realized zombies all around the car were crouching down and reaching under the car to pull her out. She felt gnarly hands picking at her from all sides.

  Her heart in her mouth, she twisted her head to and fro seeking for a space on either side of the car where she could slide out and escape. But there wasn’t any space. The creatures were packed everywhere around the vehicle.

  Her predicament reminded her of the time when she was a little girl and she and her brother had run away from a bully in their neighborhood one night. They fled to their car parked in front of their house. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, so she rolled under the car. Her brother hid behind the car.

  The bully ran up to their car, found her brother, and demanded to know where his sister was. Reba was terrified her brother would tell the bully where she was hiding. She thought she was going to die then under the car. She feared her brother would tell the bully and then the bully would either drag her out from under the car and beat her up or jump up and down on the car’s hood and crush her underneath.

  Her brother said he didn’t know where she was.

  She heard the bully shove her brother against the car.

  Her chest heaving, she waited for the bully to peek under the car. The bully must not have thought of it.

  In the end, the bully stalked off . . .

  Only it was worse this time with the zombies, she knew. There wasn’t just one bully out there. There were dozens of flesh-eating ghouls bent on devouring her.

  Where was Hank? she wondered frantically. Hadn’t he heard her scream? And what about Victoria and Chad? Why weren’t they coming to help her?

  She felt at least four hands trying to grab her feet.

  She slid on her back toward the front of the car to escape their clutches.

  Then hands reached under the front of the car and grabbed her hair to hoick her out.

  Oh my God! she thought.

  She grabbed the chassis above her to prevent them from pulling her out from under the car. Now she could feel them hauling on her hair and her feet at the same time.

  They were tearing her hair out of her head, sending shooting pain through her scalp.

  At her lower extremities, it felt like they were going to tear her legs off if she didn’t let go of the chassis above her.

  She heard a gunshot.

  Maybe somebody would try to help her now—if she could last any longer.

  She screamed again.

  Her eyes bugged out of her head when she saw a small creature pushing ten roll under the car and nestle beside her. The creature moaned. It took a bite out of one of her arms that was holding onto the chassis for purchase.

  Reba was so petrified her scream caught in her throat.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  On the sidewalk, when Becker climbed into the driver’s seat vacated by Reba, Mannering tried to shove him off the cart.

  Becker held on for dear life. The creatures were converging all around them and he knew if he let go, it would be the end of him. He wouldn’t stand a chance outside of the cart.

  “Get out of here, you bastard!” Mannering yelled at him.

  Becker would have none of it. He fought to maintain his grasp on the steering wheel as Mannering continued to try to shove him out of the cart.

  “I’ll die if you leave me behind!” Becker cried.

  “I hope so!” snarled Mannering, grappling with him. “You don’t deserve to live.”

  “I have as much right as anybody else. What gives you the right to decide?”

  Becker’s face flushed with effort as he struggled to hang onto the wheel.

  “What gave you the right to throw Reba out of the cart?” demanded Mannering.

  “I’ll say it again. What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?”

  “This,” said Mannering. He pulled out his Glock and leveled it at Becker. “Now let go.”

  With his free hand Becker tried to wrest the pistol from Mannering.

  Mannering fired.

  The round hit Becker in the arm. Becker screamed, let go of the steering wheel, and recoiled from the cart, clutching his wounded arm. A look of stunned disbelief swept over his face. He couldn’t believe Mannering had shot him.

  Frenzied by the sight and odor of the fresh blood oozing from Becker’s arm, ghouls clawed and trampled over each other trying to reach him first.

  Mannering slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Reba!” he bellowed.

  He scoped the area for her. He had heard her screaming earlier but he had been too preoccupied fighting off Becker to notice the location of her screams.

  He couldn’t see hide nor hair of her.

  He fired at a zombie that was reaching for him. The bullet hit it in the head. The sneering face of the creature jerked back. The creature dropped dead.

  “Reba!”

  He couldn’t hear her screaming anymore.

  “Did you see where Reba went?” he asked Halverson and Victoria, who were in their cart up ahead.

  “I saw her roll into the road, but I lost track of her,” answered Halverson.

  “Reba!” Mannering called out again.

  No answer.

  Two shirtless male creatures lunged at Mannering. The taller creature had a greenish hue to his waxy, rotting complexion.

  As he sat in the cart’s driver’s seat, Mannering slapped the creature’s groping hands away from him.

  “We gotta go!” said Halverson. “They’re all over the place.”

  “We can’t leave Reba,” said Victoria beside him.

  “We don’t even know where she is.”

  Mannering squeezed off a round into the shorter ghoul that was closing in on him. The 9 mm bullet slammed into the creature’s forehead.

  To Mannering’s left two creatures held Becker by his arms. Each creature was trying to yank one of Becker’s arms off to devour it.

  “Help me!” screamed Becker.

  Halverson trained his Persuader on one of the creatures and blew it away. The thing fell dead and released Becker’s arm. The other creature continued to tug on Becker’s arm that had the gunshot wound.

  Halverson couldn’t get a clear shot at the ghoul. Becker was standing in Halverson’s line of fire.

  The creature’s yanking on Becker’s wounded arm was exacerbating the pain that w
as already flowing in waves from Becker’s wound. Becker yelped.

  Agitated by the sight of the fresh blood pouring from the wound, the creature hiked even harder on Becker’s arm, groaning and opening and closing its mouth in anticipation of its upcoming meal.

  Most of the flesh had rotted off the creature’s jaws, exposing its chipped teeth and rancid green gums. The creature opened its jaws and chewed off three of Becker’s fingers.

  Becker screamed and tried with all his might to pull his wounded arm free of the ghoul. The ghoul’s grip was like steel now that the creature had tasted blood.

  Mannering brought his pistol to bear on the ghoul’s head and squeezed the trigger.

  The gun clicked empty.

  A grimacing creature with a shock of white hair and whelks on its beak sneaked up behind Becker and took a bite out of Becker’s neck, severing his jugular and sending blood spurting out all over the sidewalk.

  Becker’s eyes bulged out of his head at the shock to his system.

  Mannering fired again, this time at the ghoul that had chewed Becker’s throat. Snick. Nothing doing. Mannering was out of ammo.

  Mannering entertained the fleeting thought of jumping out of his cart and coming to Becker’s aid, but even as he thought about it two creatures stumbled between him and Becker, scowling and scrabbling toward Mannering.

  Mannering remained in his seat and swatted at the ghouls as they barged toward him. Another ghoul attacked him from the passenger side of the cart.

  Mannering put the cart in gear and peeled off. He knew he had no chance if he stayed here.

  “Becker’s done for,” he said, driving up to Victoria and Halverson.

  A horde of zombies shambled toward them.

  “What’s that noise?” asked Victoria.

  “It sounds like some kind of generator,” said Halverson, peering toward the end of the block up ahead.

  He picked up on a yellow portable generator used by the city’s transportation department when they conducted road repair work.

  “The things are headed in that direction, too,” said Mannering, watching creatures from across the street staggering toward the generator.

  “The noise attracts them,” said Victoria.

  “We have to get there before they do or they’ll cut us off and trap us between two fronts,” said Halverson.