They regrouped near the van, all of them looking around.
“Let’s go before more show up.”
“These fucks are persistent,” Vince said. “We just cleared this block—what, yesterday? Day before?”
“Yeah, we got a lot of work left to do,” Garrett said. “Let’s get to it. Who’s going in the van?”
“I can drive it,” Dom said. “Guess that means Harry too, me and him are practically joined at the hip.” Harry smiled, his teeth yellow from years of smoking.
“I’ll go with you guys,” Vince said. “Garrett and the others can take the car, an we’ll follow.”
“Let’s get moving, then,” Garrett said.
****
The store wasn’t far, but it was swarming with zombies. The survivors turned off of the road and drove into a field on a hill overlooking the lot. The field’s waist-high grass hid them well as they gathered to form a plan.
“Any idea where the forklift would be?” Garrett asked.
“Could be anywhere,” Dave said. “I can vaguely remember the layout of my store, this one’s probably not much different. But if people were working when the whole thing went down, there’s really no way of knowing.”
“What are the odds of us going in and taking out all the crazies?” Harry said. “Just get them out of the way and then get to work.”
“Even if we had the ammo for that,” Vince said, “the sound would only attract more.”
“So we have to sneak in, get a forklift running, and get it on the van without any of them seeing or hearing us? How?”
Dex was looking at the ground. “We use live bait.” He looked up. “It’s the only way I see. Someone has to keep them busy while you guys get the forklift into the van.”
“That’s suicide,” Dom said.
“Not if we’re careful. We split into groups, one makes as much noise as possible, lures the zombies away. You guys go in—”
“Hey, wait,” Dave said. “I promised to get you here, I never said I was going in.”
“We need you to drive the forklift,” Garrett said. “That’s all.”
“I promised my wife and daughter I was coming home.”
“You are, man. You’ve really got the safest job. We’ll take care of everything else, we’ll back the van up to the loading dock, all you gotta do is pull the thing into the back, we’ll close it, and you’ll be untouchable.”
“Yeah, once I’m in the van, but first I’d have to go in that store, not to mention the parking lot.”
“Be a trooper,” Dex said. “Don’t worry, I’ll have the zombies far away by then.”
“So you’re volunteering?” Ralph said.
Dex shrugged. “I wouldn’t ask someone else to do it for me. But I won’t lie, I could use some help.”
“I’m with you, then.”
“And you got us,” Harry said, and Dom nodded.
“So you and me will take the store, then,” Garrett said to Keely. “You cool with that?”
“Yeah,” Keely said. “No problem.”
Dex, Ralph, Dom, and Harry gathered to discuss how to attract the zombies along a route leading back to the store. Keely, Garrett, and Dave focused on the forklift.
“The ones we used were electric,” Dave said, “with a gas backup. I can’t speak for this store, but we never put gas in ‘em. Always went to shit before we needed it.”
“The charge will have died by now,” Garrett said. “Means we need to take some gas with us, change out anything in the lift, and then get it on the van.”
“Thank God we have practice,” Keely said. “Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes for the whole thing.”
“That’s assuming we don’t run into trouble inside the store. Dex and his team can handle the zombies outside, but inside’s another story.”
“I hope it’s empty. It should be.”
“I should’ve taken that gun,” Dave said.
“Nah, man,” Garrett replied. “Don’t worry about anything but the forklift. I swear to God, nothing will get close to you, just leave the zombies to Keely and me.”
“How long do you want us to keep them off you?” Dex asked.
“Indefinitely,” Garrett said. “Try to get back in fifteen minutes. Either we won’t be done and you’ll have to buy us more time, or we’ll swing by, pick you up, and get the hell out of here.”
“All right. You bring any Molotovs?”
“Just two.” Garrett handed one to Dex. “Getting hard to find alcohol these days, but I think you’re going to need this to get back.”
Dex took the Molotov, and his team got into the car while Garrett’s got in the van.
They drove up to the loading bay, and Keely, Dave, and Garrett ducked below the van’s windows, which were already high off the ground. Nothing would see them. Dex honked the car’s horn repeatedly, then he, Ralph, Dom, and Harry got out of the car and started jogging, shouting and throwing rocks and banging on street lights as they went. Keely peeked out the window after a moment and saw a huge flock of zombies shrinking into the distance.
“Let’s go,” she said.
They scanned the area as they climbed out, and it was empty. Keely readied her gun while Garrett went to the large metal door of the loading bay. It was held shut by a padlock.
“Shit,” Garrett said. “Well, no easy way around it.” He pointed his shotgun at the lock and fired. The padlock exploded, and bits of shrapnel skittered along the ground. Keely pointed her gun at the door and nodded to Garrett. He shoved the door upward, and it rose the rest of the way on its own. Light flooded into the hardware store, where long-decayed bodies lay every few yards. The smell wafted out immediately, and Garrett covered his face with his arm as he stepped backward to get a breath of fresh air.
“As if we didn’t have enough reasons to make this quick,” Keely said. She grabbed the gas can from the van, then the trio headed into the store. After a few feet, Garrett turned a flashlight on and handed it to Dave. “See anything?”
“This stuff is all ground-level. A forklift will be near racks and shelves. Take a right up here, maybe?”
Keely didn’t like the sound of “maybe”, but at least the store had to be empty, or else the bodies would’ve been picked clean. She took the collar of her shirt and hung it from her nose. Garrett did her one better and snatched a package of disposable face masks from an end cap, opening it as they walked. He handed one to Keely and one to Dave before putting one on himself.
“Let’s grab more on the way out,” Keely said. “There’s no shortage of bodies in Old L.A.”
“Good idea,” Garrett replied.
“Right there!” Dave said. Keely couldn’t help smiling at the excitement in his voice. He went straight to the tank and checked for gas. “It’s clean, too!”
“We got luck on our side,” Garrett said. He kept his shotgun ready and watched behind them. “Let’s hurry, I’m worried about our boys outside.”
“Me too,” Keely said. She filled the tank and then put the cap back on the gas can. Dave was already sitting in the forklift. He turned the engine, and the machine fired up.
“Hop on,” Dave said. Garrett and Keely each stood on one of the forklift’s prongs and held the nearest bar, and the lift jerked a little bit as Dave turned it, then ran smoothly as he drove it back across the store.
They reached daylight and the van, and Keely and Garrett hopped off the forklift.
“Let’s get the ramp out so he can get on,” Garrett said. Keely jumped a few feet into the van and slid the ramp across into the store, and Dave drove the forklift across it.
“Feel safe enough to ride up front?” Garrett asked.
Dave was already climbing out of the back. “Yeah.”
“Now we just gotta be ready to give the guys some cover, then we can go home.”
****
Sweat poured from Ralph’s forehead. The creatures had gotten so slim, but hunger didn’t slow them down.
“How much longer?
”
Dex looked at his watch. “We should find a way to circle back soon.”
Ralph glanced over his shoulder. Harry was right behind him, but Dom was halfway between them and the zombies. Ralph nodded in Dom’s direction, and Harry looked back.
“Dom!” he said. “Domingo! Speed up!”
Dom shook his head. Dex fell back to him. Ralph could tell they were talking, and Dex pointed and gestured. Then Dex caught back up with the others.
“Dom’s pulled a muscle, he can’t keep running like this. He’s going to break off, take cover, then get back to the store. We need to make sure all the zombies follow us and not him.”
“Can I go with him?” Harry asked.
Dex shook his head. Ralph could tell he was tired, so he explained why instead.
“If two of us split off, they’ll see it for sure.”
The street joined a freeway on-ramp, and Dom started up it, weaving in and out of the cars. Ralph, Dex, and Harry slowed to an uncomfortable pace, all but walking backwards and shouting at the zombies, goading them on. A few of them broke off and went after Dom, but as the cars thickened, they gave up on him and went after the much easier prey in the open.
Ralph thought he felt something tug at his shirt. He sped up, and the others did the same. Finally he decided to look back, and saw the zombies were only a few yards behind.
“When do we cycle back?”
“Give Dom more time,” Harry said.
“Strip mall ahead,” Dex said. “We can go around the build—”
The crack was barely audible over the moans of the zombies and Ralph’s own panting, but he heard it all the same. Dex screamed and lifted his foot, where a shard of a beer bottle jutted from his shoe. Instinctively he hopped on the other foot, lost his balance, and dropped the other, shoving the shard deeper in. His foot rolled and Dex fell.
“Fuck!” Ralph said. He turned and opened fire. Harry, who had gotten slightly ahead, didn’t notice anything until the gunshots, and then he turned and started shooting too.
A zombie dove at Dex, but he killed it in mid-air. The zombie landed on him, knocking his arms away, and another zombie was right behind it. Ralph fired and missed, then shot it through the neck. Another zombie arrived, and Ralph never took his eyes from it, even as one grabbed him from the side. His view was blocked by more zombies, and then he turned to the one that had grabbed him. It was dead on the ground; Harry must’ve taken care of it. Ralph worked through the crowd toward Dex, who had worked his hands free and was firing at the zombies as he crawled along the ground. Ralph helped him up, and Dex kept firing and hopping on his good foot while Ralph guided him along the street.
“Anyone bit?” Harry asked. “That one almost got you.”
“I don’t think so,” Ralph said, but he wasn’t sure, and it scared him.
“I’m good,” Dex said. He chuckled. “I always knew alcohol would be the death of me. Fucking knew it.”
“Shut up, you’re fine,” Ralph replied.
By the time they reached the strip mall, Ralph felt like he would collapse. He didn’t have the energy to wipe the sweat from his eyes.
Dex prepared the Molotov, and when they reached the end of the strip mall, he threw it into the parking lot. The survivors rounded the corner of the building, which threw the moans of the zombies to one side and almost made Ralph dizzy.
“Trade off,” Harry said. Ralph didn’t want to stop, but he couldn’t keep it up on his own, so he shifted Dex to Harry, and then they rounded the next corner. Finally the sun was off of them, and the shade provided very little but very welcome relief.
Ralph didn’t see any zombies behind them until they were almost around the next corner. The fire and the building were keeping them off the trail, and Ralph thanked God for that. The survivors came out from behind the building and saw the street again; a few of the zombies had apparently lost interest too soon to notice the fire, and now stood along the road.
“It’s just a few,” Ralph said. He shoved the first one from behind when he reached it, then shot the next. That bought the attention of any zombies who weren’t bathing in the flames from the Molotov, and Dex opened fire. Harry was too busy keeping Dex on track, and Dex’s limp made his aim poor, so Ralph made sure to hit with every shot. He fired until his gun clicked, and by then the zombies were behind them and falling farther.
“Ain’t out of the woods yet,” Harry said. “Long way back to the car.”
Ralph hadn’t prayed in a long time, but he felt the weight of his necklace against his chest and prayed for Garrett and the others to show up with the van. Maybe Dom would bring them, but then Dom didn’t know Dex was injured.
“I have to stop,” Harry said. “My side is killing me.”
“You can’t stop,” Ralph replied. He took Dex from Harry, and by the time they were moving again, they’d lost their entire lead on the zombies, pulling ahead of them by a few feet.
“That the van?” Dex said. Something glimmered ahead.
“I hope so,” Harry replied.
“I’m sorry, guys. If I get you killed.”
“We’re going to be fine,” Ralph said. “And if we’re not, it wouldn’t be your fault.”
They passed a bloody shoeprint on the ground, and avoided the bodies from their earlier scuffle. The van came into view ahead, and it stopped a few dozen yards away. Someone got out, went to the back, and opened it, then climbed in as the van turned around and continued on slowly, letting them catch up.
“Can you jump?” Ralph asked Dex.
“I guess I’m going to have to.”
It was Garrett in the back of the van, and he held his arms out. Dex jumped off his good foot, and Garrett caught him and pulled him into the van. Dex leaping from him had slowed Ralph down, and he didn’t have the strength to speed back up. He watched Harry jump into the van, and Garrett helped him get stable while Dex crawled farther from the edge. Garrett turned to Ralph.
“Come on, man. We gotta speed up. Give me your hand.”
Garrett kneeled down, holding onto a handle on the side of the van, and extended his hand. Ralph took it, and then his legs stopped working. Garrett yanked him toward the van, and Ralph hit his knee on the side, his shoes dragged along the asphalt, but then he climbed the rest of the way inside. Only then did he realize how close the zombies were: Some had been keeping pace with him, one had even been a few inches ahead. They growled and roared at the people in the van, gnashing their teeth, sweat pouring from the ends of their tangled hair and beards and darkening their shirts around their necks and armpits.
“Not this time,” Garrett said to them. He tapped on the side of the van, and the van sped up while he shut the door.
29
In Hiding
Adam was leaning back in his chair, his legs on top of the desk. He stared at the ceiling, now and then glancing down at the clock. Randolph was late, and Adam was worried.
There’s a gun in that drawer. A gun that has taken a life. Greater humans don’t take life unless they have to. When I killed Horace, I had to… but I also wanted to.
Adam planted his legs on the ground; he felt queasy. He tried to push the pain from his mind and focus on the coming days, in which he could finally become one of them.
Someone knocked on his door, then opened it without waiting for a reply. An older man named Hugo entered. “Randolph’s back.”
Adam tried to look composed, but he couldn’t help scrambling to his feet and hurrying down the hall. The lesser humans had all gathered at the door, and they were talking and asking questions and crowding around Randolph.
“Lesser humans, please!” Adam said. Everyone stopped and turned to him. “Give brother Randolph some space. Someone get him some water and food, he’s travelled far. Let him rest.”
They did as he said. Maddock helped Randolph into a chair in a small meeting room behind the main theater. They brought him a bottle of water and a bowl of soup, and he set to work immediately. His face was red, h
is hair matted from sweat.
“Did you have trouble getting back?” Adam asked. Randolph looked up from his bowl, the spoon still in his mouth. He sat up straighter.
“Some. The way I took getting there was full of greater humans on the way back. I thought I could go around, and I got lost. But I found my way back.”
“Praise God,” someone said, and a few of the others muttered it as well.
“Take your time,” Adam said. “When you’re ready—”
“We can do it now,” Randolph said. “If that’s all right. I needed some water, mostly.”
Adam nodded, then turned to Maddock. “Get the others in here. We’ll all fit.”
Randolph finished eating while the rest of the congregation filed into the room. It was a little cramped, and only a dozen people were able to sit at the table, but they all fit.
“I don’t know what to ask first,” Adam said. “What was it like?”
“They’re in Los Angeles. On the outskirts. They’ve built a sort of city inside the city, with barricades to close it off. There’s a few buildings inside, including the radio station—”
“The Great Evil One,” someone said, “what does he look like?”
“He looks like any other lesser human. Not too tall, getting a little older. Paunchy.”
The woman who had asked covered her mouth, her eyes wide, as though Randolph had described a seven-headed beast with horns and wings.
“Evil can operate any vessel,” Adam said. “How many are there?”
“So many,” Randolph replied. “Far more than us, and more arrive every day. They’re expanding the barricades, too, making cement walls with old cars as the foundation.”
“That’s not good.” The others took to whispering. Adam looked up, rubbing his chin. He could really use a sign. He looked back at Randolph. “Brother Randolph, you know more than everyone in this room combined. What course of action would you recommend?”
Randolph didn’t hesitate. Perhaps he’d been thinking of it the whole way back. “We kill them all. I’ll open the gate in the night, and we’ll slit their throats.”
Zombiemandias (Book 2): In the Year of Our Death Page 16