“We’re leaving.” James pulled the lady from the car. She continued to hold her child close. Leading them back to his cruiser, James caught swift movement from the corner of his eye. He spun around and leveled off the shotgun just as a zombie rushed from the darkness. James pulled the trigger hitting the zombie in the abdomen. The zombie was blown backwards several feet. James turned and led the lady and child to his cruiser.
More zombies began to close in on James and his guests. Some moved slowly towards the movement while a few began to run. Having gained full motor skills some zombies could run as fast as their bodies would allow. James reached his cruiser and opened the back door. He shoved the lady and her child into the back seat not noticing the blood dripping from the child’s arm. James slammed the door, turned and fired at a fast approaching zombie. This time he hit the zombie in the head splintering its skull and splattering brain matter onto the street. The zombie dropped to the ground lifeless.
James tossed the shotgun into the cruiser and slammed his door. He reached down and hit the lock button. He placed the cruiser in drive and began to motor away when the zombie he shot earlier struck the drivers side of the cruiser. The zombie’s intestines hung out of its abdomen and dragged on the ground. It clawed at the window and followed along with the police cruiser leaving a bloody trail of intestines. James gazed at the zombie in wonder as its liver slid out of the gaping hole and hit the ground with a wet thud. James accelerated.
As he drove to the station, James reached up and pulled on the neckline of his bulletproof vest allowing cool air to enter. The small wound suffered at Morning View continued to bleed and was beginning to itch.
Eight
“Holy shit!” Ty said aloud looking over his patio railing. His flashlight lit up the faces of the dead. Many congregated around the front of the apartment building. The zombies looked up at Ty with grey eyes failing to blink. Ty counted the standing bodies in the street. He counted eight in all. Most were bloody, haggard, and beat up. One zombie was missing his right arm at the shoulder, leaving torn muscle and tendons dangling. A child, no older than ten stared up with a large gash on his face. The boy’s body was covered in blood. The smell from the street drifted upward causing Ty to back away from the railing. The mixture of blood with the smell of fecal matter and urine was too much for Ty. Sugar continued to growl.
“Sugar, back up. We need to figure out what is going on here.” Ty pulled Sugar back into the apartment and closed the sliding glass door.
The radio continued broadcasting emergency messages. Ty turned on the television. Channel 7 showed footage from Sacramento. Riot police were taped shooting people in the streets. A voice came over the images.
“As you can see, the events that have unfolded are beyond anything state or federal officials can explain. National Guard and military forces are moving into the larger urban areas. When reached for comment state officials could not say if military personnel would be deployed to Shasta or Tehama counties. Local emergency services have been overwhelmed and several officers and firefighters have been reported killed in the line of duty and or missing. Again, it is imperative you remain inside with your doors and windows locked. We will continue to update you for as long as possible. We have new footage from around the country to show you. Warning: these images are very graphic in nature.”
Ty sat watching the television. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he watched several heavily armed men overrun by a horde of the undead. The armed had been barricaded in a makeshift armory with a news crew. The crew broadcasted via satellite and the reporter was dressed in army style fatigues. He had a swagger about him as he reported the events unfolding in a town somewhere in New Mexico. The reporter stepped aside and allowed the cameraman to film the armed militia. One of the militia members yelled something to the others and opened fired out of a small opening in the front entrance. It was soon after that the front door was pushed in. The sheer number of zombies was startling. The reporter was last heard screaming somewhere off camera. The cameraman was bull rushed by two zombies. The camera dropped to the floor sending only images of the dirt floor. Gunshots rang out and the screams continued as feet darted by the camera lens. The commentator did his best to explain what was happening but finally stopped and just said it was a dark day for humanity.
Ty felt cold. It was finally setting in. The world was ending and he was front and center for the grand finale. He looked around the apartment realizing he wasn’t secure. The front door was locked, but could it keep them out? The video showed zombies pushing a big door in with ease. Ty grabbed the edge of his sofa and shoved it down the hall. He pushed the sofa firmly against the door and went back to the living room to grab a bookshelf. As he pulled books from the shelf, he realized he was digging his own grave. How long could he possibly hold out in the two bedroom apartment? He picked up his pistol and walked quietly to the patio. He opened the glass door holding Sugar back with his foot. He closed the door behind carefully. Slowly he leaned over the railing, allowing his eyes to adjust to the low light. The eight zombies had now grown to twelve. They no longer stared up at the patio but instead milled about. Ty sat back on the patio and leaned against the wall.
“I am totally fucked.”
Nine
Katie sat on the floor of the Mini-Mart, watching in horror as the four zombies devoured the poor man’s innards as he lay on the ground next to her car. She felt she was going to pass out. Just as her eyes began to roll into the back of her head the body of a homeless woman sprung forward and hit the front door with all her weight. Katie slid back screaming. The glass in the bottom half of the door bowed inward from the zombie’s weight. Flesh hung from the zombie’s teeth as she continued to batter the door.
Katie grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled herself up. She spied the machete near the entrance. Outside the other zombies slowly lost interest in the half eaten meal and were drawn to the banging on the glass door. Through the bloody haze, Katie could see the remaining zombies moving towards her. She ran for the machete agitating the zombie at the door even more. She snatched up the machete and ran to the rear of the store. Just as Katie reached the doorway to the storage area she heard the front door give way with a crash of glass on the Mini-Mart floor. Katie slammed the door to the storage area and began to stack cases of soda as a barricade. The flimsy lock on the door couldn’t keep a child out.
Every time Katie reached for a case of soda, she could see zombies in the security monitor. She slowed her fevered pace of stacking as the effects of not eating the whole day caught up to her. Katie looked at the monitor to see four zombies standing at the door. One zombie lumbered off to the cold case. Katie, hand trembling, switched the image on the monitor to the storefront’s outside camera. No movement. The man’s car sat idling. She took a deep breath and moved towards the delivery door.
Katie tried with all her might to open the damn latch that was stuck as usual. A loud crash sent shock waves through her body forcing her to struggle harder to open the latch. Behind her Thomas L. Smith crashed through racks of dairy products. He was in the cold lock and moving towards the next door that wasn’t locked.
“Son of a bitch!” Katie screamed when the latch didn’t budge. Soda cans fell to the ground. Some burst open spraying syrupy liquid in all directions as the remaining zombies to pushed their way into the small storage area.
Katie fought mightily with the latch as more cases toppled.
“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Katie screamed, barely budging the latch. She grabbed the machete and beat the latch with the handle. It began to move. The cold lock door flung open. Katie turned screaming as the body of Thomas L. Smith appeared from the cold lock and stared at her with his clouded eyes. Thomas sprung but lost his footing on the spilled soda and slammed into the floor. Without hesitation, Katie swung the machete catching Thomas in the back of the head. With a red blur the second coming of Thomas L. Smith ended.
The machete was stuck. Every time Katie tried to pull i
t out of the head the body slid with it. More cases of soda crashed to the ground. Katie turned and grabbed the latch. With a sudden burst of adrenaline she pulled the latch open. The door rolled up quickly and she burst out of the small storage area. The remaining zombies slid across the wet floor, losing their balance and falling over as if they were in a Three Stooges routine. Katie ran around the side of the store and stopped. She stared into a pitch-black abyss. Her breathing labored. Her mind raced. Tear formed in her eyes.
Katie stood in darkness not knowing what monsters lurked near by. She knew there were at least three zombies in the store, but what was out here? The loud moaning from behind decided her fate. She took off in a full sprint. The tears in her eyes stung as she entered the abyss. She found nothing in the dark and rounded the corner to find the car with the idling car with the door open. Katie knew she wouldn’t get far in her Ford Festiva. Hell, I don’t have much gas. She ran past her Ford not noticing the body of Jonathan Smiley was gone.
Ten
Ruth Davies stood in a dark recreation room just off the south entrance of the Morning View facility. She stared out a large window careful not to draw any attention to herself. In the streetlights, they walked. She could see some had severe wounds. One man who appeared to be in his early twenties was missing most of his left side. Ribs protruded from the jagged cuts in his skin. The cavity that once housed his left lung was now vacant. Just behind him walked a young girl with large bites to her neck and shoulders. One bite was so deep her arm hung loosely from the shoulder and swayed with every step she took.
In the distance, Ruth could see a solitary figure moving towards the building. It walked slow but with a normal gait to its steps. The figure passed into the streetlight from a row of oleander bushes neatly trimmed to form a border between the sidewalk and a neighboring parking lot. The body of Thurmond Twells stepped onto the path leading to the south entrance.
Thurmond Twells had visited the Morning View facility daily for the past two years. His beloved wife Clara was a resident. At times Clara remembered whom he was when he visited. More often than not, she didn’t remember. Alzheimer’s had taken hold of her mind and his life. Their forty-five years of marriage was a fleeting memory that visited Clara rarely. Those moments came less and less but Thurmond cherished them, no matter how short and infrequent they were. Thurmond would sit and tell Clara stories from their past as though they were movies. He painted a beautiful picture of their life, their children, and their adventures together. Ruth thought Thurmond the most patient man she had ever met in her life.
***
Earlier in the night Thurmond had died of a heart attack as he watched the horrific events unfolding on the nightly news. He had tried to call Morning View and he had tried to call his children whom lived in different states but was unsuccessful. Knowing the world was witnessing events only God could understand he was determined to spend his remaining time with Clara holding her hand on this final journey. His heart failed just after he finished putting on his walking shoes.
***
For the past two years Thurmond had walked the eight blocks from his home to Morning View to spend time with Clara. The walks had kept him sharp and in good shape. Tonight the walk took him two hours, but he had finally made it. Thurmond made his way to the south entrance and stopped at the locked door. The cold body of Hal McAllister lay just off the walkway. Thurmond paid it no mind as he reached out and grabbed the door. It didn’t budge. The most patient man Ruth had ever met now stood at a locked door. His wife of forty-five years lay comfortably in a bed somewhere in the facility oblivious to the fantastic happenings. He didn’t knock on the door, he didn’t fuss, and he didn’t reach for the call box. He just stood there, drawn by some deep memory still driving his body to the facility. Thurmond’s frail hand gripped the door handle. Ruth feared he had passed away. There was no spring in his step and he didn’t have flowers for his wife. Ruth looked out the window at her friend now knowing he was gone but she so desperately wanted to let him in, sit him down and comb his hair. She wanted him to sit by Clara’s side just one more time but it wouldn’t happen. Tears rolled down Ruth’s face as Thurmond just stared at the door waiting for it to open. His grey eyes never blinked.
Eleven
A piercing scream caused James to brake hard. The police cruiser slid to a stop. James cocked his head around to see why his passenger was screaming so goddamn loud.
“Jesus Christ lady. What now?”
Everything James had witnessed tonight didn’t prepare him for the scene unfolding in the back of his cruiser. The lady held her young son against the door with her feet while bracing her back against the opposite door. She was using all her remaining strength to keep him pinned. The boy swiped at her and tried to bite her leg. James threw his door open and raced to the passenger side of the cruiser opening the back door the boy was pinned against.
The boy tumbled to the ground, jumped up and was on James before he could react. The teeth of the boy caught nothing but jacket as James slammed him to the pavement with all his strength. He quickly got back up and lunged at him again. James caught him mid air and drove his little body into the side of the cruiser. The boy continued to fight rabidly. James kept his hands away from the boy’s mouth and skillfully maneuvered around his erratic movements gaining the upper hand. With one quick move James snapped the boys neck. The boy stopped moving and slumped lifelessly into James’ arms. The lady looked up from the floorboard of the cruiser in shock. The grey dead eyes of her son looked back at her. James tossed the body aside.
“Are you hurt?” James asked with little patience. The lady didn’t answer.
“Lady, are you hurt?” James asked again this time with less patience. No answer. James reached in dragging her out of the cruiser. He could see the blood staining her blouse.
“Fuck, you’re bit aren’t you? That’s how it starts. Shit, shit, shit.” James walked away shaking his head. He stopped.
James sat in the middle of Cypress Avenue with a woman he didn’t know, only a mile from the station. Surely she was infected but James struggled with what he should do. He had only seen one dead body during his time on the force and that one didn’t try to eat him unlike the two he tossed to the ground tonight. The lady stood next to the cruiser sobbing.
“Ma’am, I need to get you some help. Let me take you to the hospital.”
“He’s dead. My husband is dead. Everybody is dead. We’re all going to die.” The lady turned and ran into the night with the infection coursing through her veins.
James felt a tinge of guilt for not going after her, but he knew there were more monsters in the dark. Sounds of people running in the distance spurred him into action and back into the driver’s seat. He sped towards the station scratching at the small wound on his chest. The dead boy remained motionless in the street.
Twelve
Whiffs of exhaust escaped the tail pipe of the idling car. Katie’s beat up Ford Festiva sat next to it but she ignored it as she ran for the open door of the running vehicle. Katie knew her Festiva wouldn’t get far. She didn’t have much gas and half the time it stalled at stoplights. Katie had no idea just how bad things had gotten in the city and she needed to cross a good deal of the heavily populated areas to get home. She passed the front end of her car and rounded the corner to the other, when she saw movement.
The door partially blocked her view of the crawling zombie as it tried to gain the motor skills necessary to walk. Katie froze. The zombie reached out and grabbed the door of the car pulling itself up to a full standing position. Katie gasped in horror at the site standing before her. The lower jaw of the zombie swayed loosely only attached by a thin line of bloody muscle. It’s tongue darted out of the gaping hole in its face. The grey eyes never blinked as they settled on her.
More figures appeared from the corner of the Mini-Mart and shambled towards Katie and her new friend. She burst forward. The zombie, formerly known as Jonathan Smiley, reached out its arms in ant
icipation of its prey. Katie rammed the car door with all her weight knocking the zombie flat on its back. Katie fell to the ground gasping for air. Besides knocking the wind out of her, she also bruised two ribs and her tailbone throbbed even more. She struggled to get to her feet. The figures from beside the store could see the commotion and began moving as fast as their bodies would allow them. On the ground, just on the other side of the car door, Jonathan struggled to regain his feet. He turned over and began to crawl towards Katie.
With all her will Katie pulled herself up by the hood of the idling vehicle and reached for the door. Pain coursed through her like razors scraping against nerves as she continued gasping for air. Heavy footsteps grew closer. Her vision blurred as she grabbed the door handle and jerked it open. The pain was intense but her fear was greater and growing by the second. She stepped around the door and stifled a scream, when she saw how close the zombie was. Grasping her side, Katie kicked out with her right foot, swiftly sweeping Jonathan’s arms out from underneath him.
***
The zombies from inside the store had found their way out the back. They stood in the nighttime air scanning the immediate area for prey. Sounds from the front of the store drew their attention and they moved in that direction. The commotion was in the light, allowing them to use their vision fields to locate prey. Their motor skills were now mastered allowing them to move rapidly. One was able to run while the remaining two walked briskly. The prey was fighting and winning against a single zombie on the ground but it would be no match for three. The gap closed, but they were too late, as Katie slipped away.
Katie slid into the front seat of the car, pulled the door closed causing her to wince in pain. Her breath was beginning to return. She found the auto lock button, jammed the gear lever into reverse, and gunned the motor. The car sped backwards. She turned the wheel slightly catching the zombie on the ground with the front wheel. It’s head exploded under the tire like an overripe melon. The body of Jonathan, the devoted husband and good neighbor, twitched and shook on the ground. The pursuing zombies ran past the body. Katie hit the brakes, threw the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot. The remaining three zombies gave chase for a short distance. Katie would have flipped them off but the pain in her side wouldn’t allow it.
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