Zombiemandias (Book 2): In the Year of Our Death

by David J. Lovato

  “The baby,” Katie said. “Oh, God, Keely—”

  Keely put a hand on Katie’s face, then turned back toward the door, where the others were emerging to see what the noise was. “Go get the doctor! Now, now!”

  ****

  “Uh-uh, you piece of shit!” Garrett said. He was twice Randy’s size, but almost as fast. He was almost on him. Layne was lagging behind; his legs hurt. He hadn’t run in a long time.

  Randy pulled something from his pocket. It looked like a radio.

  “Now!” Randy screamed into the walkie, and Garrett reached for him, but there was a huge boom! and then another so close, all three of them stumbled and fell.

  Layne’s ears rang. Ahead of him, blurry through his vision, he saw Randy get up and start running.

  Orange.

  Layne sat up and looked down the street. Two huge balls of fire were reaching into the sky. He’d seen this before, hadn’t he? Mother May’s church. The fire and the noise—

  By the time the two blasts stopped echoing off the buildings, he could already hear the zombies shrieking and moaning.

  ****

  The Church of Lesser Humans gathered one last time a hundred yards from the main gate into New Los Angeles. They had left their flashlights behind, so they might approach unseen, but they had brought their guns, so many guns.

  As they waited, no one said a word. The air was thick, or maybe Adam was having trouble breathing. Stop me if I’m wrong, stop me if I’m wrong, stop me if I’m—

  The first explosion shot into the sky off to their left. Adam started running, and the footprints of his congregation became a stampede behind him. He narrowed his eyes when there was no second explosion, but then one came, far to their right. One of the bombs hadn’t gone off. No problem. Two was enough.

  They headed for the main gate, but it was still shut firmly. Why wasn’t it open? Were the others found out before they could open it? His heart burned for a second; what if they’d found Randolph? What if they’d killed him?

  Adam shook his head and kept running. He could see the gate now, hear shouts and screams inside the barricades, see the greater humans pouring toward the explosions they’d heard. The first few dozen would likely go for the flames, but once those were out, they’d enter the city, and the Reckoning would begin.

  But first the gate. Why was it still shut? They were close to it now, too close. It had all gone wrong, hadn’t it? Stop me if I’m—

  The gate popped open, with Samuel and Beulah pushing it. The lesser humans charged inside and looked around to get their bearings. People ran from buildings, some screamed, some pointed and shouted.

  Stop me if I’m wrong, Adam thought. He closed his eyes, waited, listened. So many screams.

  “End their suffering,” Adam said, and the members of the church opened fire.

  ****

  Layne didn’t know where to begin. Who had Randy called on the radio? How many were working with him? People were scrambling and shouting. His hearing was still muffled. He helped Garrett to his feet.

  “What the fuck, man,” Garrett said. “What the fuck do we do, Layne?”

  “We help,” Layne replied. He shouted at people to get back inside, to bar the windows and doors, but they weren’t listening. Layne started down the street. Garrett jogged to catch up to him.

  “This is all my fault. I should’ve watched better, should’ve—”

  “Garrett, this isn’t your fault. We can worry about blame later, right now we need to help as many people as we can.”

  Someone opened the door of the next building; it was Dave and his wife and daughter.

  “Go back in, you’re safer in there,” Layne said. “Go to the top floor. Barricade the door and the stairs.”

  “No way!” Dave said. Paula and Amber were already on the sidewalk. “We can’t stay here, we have to—”

  A dozen sets of pops rattled the sky: Gunfire. Layne saw puffs of cement shoot from the sidewalk and wall of the building. Everyone ducked, except for Amber, who was probably too young to know the sound. For a second she looked just like another helpless girl Layne had failed to save, once.

  Not this time, Layne thought, but Garrett was closer. He lunged forward, grabbed Amber, and spun. Two bursts of blood shot from his back as he shoved Amber back into the building, then fell to his knees.

  “Get inside!” Layne screamed. Dave and Paula went inside and shut the door. Layne grabbed Garrett and pulled him to his feet, then headed for the alley between the buildings.

  “Layne,” Garrett said, “you gotta start fighting back, man. They’re gonna kill us.”

  “I have to get you taken care of first,” Layne said, but by the time he sat Garrett against the wall, Garrett was dead.

  Tears streamed down Layne’s face as he headed for the armory room inside the motel. He grabbed a rifle and loaded it, then took a breath.

  Don’t do it out of anger. Don’t do it because they killed Garrett. Don’t let go of what makes you human. Do it so they don’t kill anyone else.

  His grip tightened on the rifle, and Layne left the armory.

  ****

  Keely supported Katie’s weight as much as she could, but Katie still groaned with every step. Outside, gunfire was ringing out.

  “Here,” Keely said. Dex opened the door for her, and Keely helped her to the bed, then pressed a pillow against the wound as hard as she could.

  “I gotta go,” Dex said. “Lacie went to get the doc, she’s out there in this.”

  “Go. And watch out, okay?”

  Dex nodded and left. Keely noticed Vince’s hands were clenched tight. “Go help them,” she said. “We’ll be okay until Jenny gets here.”

  “Sorry,” Vince said.

  “They need you more than we do.”

  Vince headed for the armory. Keely looked through the door and saw Warren at the front door with a rifle.

  “Warren, back up a little. Get down, actually.”

  “Not until the doctor shows up,” Warren replied.

  “She might not even be coming,” Keely said. “We can’t be the only ones who need help. Get down, please.”

  Warren sat in a chair near the door, where he could still see through the window in it.

  “Keely.”

  “I’m right here, Katie.”

  “Aixa if it’s a girl. Brandon if it’s a boy.”

  “Katie—”

  “Say it with me.” Katie smiled through the blood and tears smeared on her face.

  They said it together. “Aixa if it’s a girl. Brandon if it’s a boy.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Keely said. Try to relax.”

  “Our friends are dying, aren’t they? And I’m useless in here.”

  “You’re not useless. Right now the best thing you can do is relax. For the baby. Protect the baby, Katie.”

  “You were right all along. This is no world for children. Not anymore.”

  “Stop it. Just stop, okay? Everything is going to be okay.”

  Someone burst in through the back door. Warren hobbled to the hall and looked down it. “It’s Layne. Heading for the armory.” A few seconds later, Layne came rushing along the hallway with an assault rifle in hand. He peeked into the bedroom. “Is the doc here yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You two holding up?”

  “Well enough,” Katie said. She tried to smile, but it was fake.

  “What’s going on out there?” Keely asked. She wished she hadn’t; she could tell he had been crying.

  Layne’s shoulders drooped, he looked at the floor and all but dropped the rifle. “Garrett got shot. He—he didn’t make it. Because I was too slow. My best friend died because I was too God damn slow.”

  “Stop,” Warren said. “You just stop, okay? We have to keep it together now. We grieve later.”

  “Yeah,” Layne said. He shook his head, then left through the front door. Warren sat down beside it, but stood up soon after.

  “Here comes the doc
tor!” Warren opened the door, and Lacie and the Doctor Jenny came in. A flurry of bullets sent chunks of the doorframe shooting into the room. Warren spun and fell, blood splashing from his face.

  “God damn it!” Keely shouted. She got up, but Warren waved her and the doctor away.

  “It just nicked me, get back to your thing, I’ll watch the door.” Warren stayed low and shut the door, but the part of the frame that held the latch was gone, and the door rocked loosely in the wind. The smell of gunpowder and blood wafted in.

  “All right, let’s have a look,” Doctor Jenny said. “You’re applying pressure, that’s good.” She set a bag down and started taking supplies from it.

  “You’re bleeding,” Keely said.

  The doctor flicked a syringe to get the air out. “Not my blood.” She gave Katie the shot, and Katie winced, then fell asleep.

  ****

  The shots were becoming more sporadic. Layne ducked behind a cement wall, one of the finished but unplaced barricades, where a few others were taking shelter. He reloaded his rifle.

  “They’re hiding, mostly. How many are left?”

  “A dozen, a half dozen, maybe more,” Dom said. “Harry’s dead. I saw him go down, he was right behind me, then he fell, and—”

  “Dom,” Layne said, and put his hand on Dom’s shoulder. “I know, buddy.”

  “Think he might still be okay? I lost him, there was so much gunfire, I just—I ran.”

  “Let’s hope he’s okay,” Layne said.

  “There!” someone shouted. Layne turned around the corner and fired, and someone far away fell to the ground. A second later, Dom pulled him back behind the barricade, and bullets riddled the other side of the cement.

  “What are you doing, man? You’re zoning out.”

  “Sorry,” Layne said. “I just… never thought I’d have to kill people. Zombies, but not people. Not again.”

  “They’re coming from the main gate, all of them,” Dom said. “They don’t get in much farther or they get shot.”

  “We need to plug the holes they blew in our barricade, before the zombies get in.”

  “Leave that to someone closer. From here, you’ll never make it.”

  Layne nodded. A shot rang out and blasted a chunk of concrete away only a foot from his head. Before him, facing away from the barricade, Layne saw Ralph setting up a rifle on top of a one-story roof.

  ****

  Dex clutched one of the bullet wounds in his side. Blood ran to the pavement below, but he kept up with Robert.

  “We gotta get this hole filled, or mostly,” Robert said. “God, look at them.”

  A section of the barricade had been blown out, and chunks of concrete the size of tennis balls littered the surrounding area. The rubble was thicker near the hole, where several fires had started, and most of the zombies were bathing in the flames, screaming and shouting and rolling around, sometimes putting themselves out only to leap back in. A few of the zombies had made it past the flames and were wandering the streets.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” Robert asked.

  “Plug the hole, then I’ll go rest,” Dex said. “I’m fine, really.”

  Robert raised his gun and Dex raised his, and already the blood was pouring out more quickly. Dex fired, and the zombies inside the barricade heard the shot.

  Robert opened fire. A zombie fell, tripping the one behind it, which made Dex’s bullet miss, but the crowd behind was thick enough that he still got one. Behind them more zombies were going up in flames; their long hair and beards made it easy.

  Dex missed, then missed again. Was his vision blurring? It had to be. Not good. He promised Lacie he’d be right back. Just had to plug the hole first.

  “All right, good enough, watch my back,” Robert said. He climbed into the forklift and picked up the nearest finished barricade. “Never did end up filling it the rest of the way, it’ll have to do.”

  Dex kept shooting until his gun clicked. Zombies were climbing over the rubble. Dex dropped his gun, climbed into the other side of the forklift, and shoved Robert out onto the ground.

  “What are you—”

  “Go back to your kids,” Dex said. “I got this.” He floored the forklift, which maxed out at a pace much slower than he would’ve liked. He felt the zombies crunch beneath its wheels, and several of them were crushed when he jammed the barricade against the hole in the city wall, broken arms and legs crunching and severing between the concrete walls. The zombies that hadn’t been hit fell upon him, climbing up the forklift.

  So this is it. A broken promise, three bullet holes, and the zombies. Dex laughed. After everything he’d survived, it all ended because of other regular people.

  A zombie lunged in through the driver’s side opening, but its head exploded. Dex threw himself toward its body, away from a zombie climbing across the passenger side. He hit the ground hard, it shambled after him, and Robert shot it as soon as it landed.

  “Guess I’m a better shot,” Robert said. “You’re lucky.”

  Dex slid out from under the zombies. Robert helped him up. “How many are there?”

  “No more zombies on this side. Some might squeeze through that, but not many. It’ll hold, until we get everything settled down.”

  “I meant people.”

  “Come again?”

  “You saved my life. Someone else tried to kill me tonight, but you saved me. How many people would—” Dex fell, and Robert caught him.

  “All right, time to get you somewhere safe. I’ve still got work to do.”

  ****

  Almost half the churchgoers had abandoned him just before entering the city, or soon after. All that talk about furthering the Cause, and in the end, they couldn’t do it.

  Adam didn’t blame them. He wasn’t prepared for what it was like inside the city. People running for their lives, children screaming. It was difficult to watch, but it had to be done.

  Then they started shooting back, and things got worse. They knew all the hiding places; his church members were defenseless. Some hid behind post boxes or street lights, some ran back out the way they’d come. Some stood in the street, shooting until they died. They were the best ones.

  The shots were farther apart and less frequent. How many were left? And why hadn’t the greater humans gotten in yet? Things weren’t going as planned. Adam would have to fight harder.

  His hands seemed to work themselves. Empty a clip, then reload. Over and over. If he looked too carefully really saw what he was doing, it would be too hard to finish what he’d started.

  Then came the moans. Adam turned. The fires provided little light, but he knew out in the old streets, between the buildings, the greater humans were coming, and they’d be heading in through the gate, right behind the church members. He needed to work faster.

  Adam saw Randolph. He came out between two buildings, unarmed, running straight for the other church members. He was alive after all; Adam smiled. Randolph, so devoted to the cause, who had worked so hard through so much danger.

  “Come on!” Adam shouted.

  A gun fired somewhere, much louder than the others. A bullet tore through Randolph’s leg, and he fell into the street, barely past the sidewalk.

  “Randolph!”

  Someone came out of a building, a gun in hand. She was short, and nearly bald. She must’ve seen Adam’s weakness; she rushed to Randolph and pointed the gun at his head.

  “Wait!” Adam screamed. Something moved in the corner of his eye; the sniper stood up from where he had crouched on a nearby rooftop.

  “Brian?” the sniper shouted. Adam thought he looked familiar, but before he could place it, a bullet tore through the man’s shoulder, and he ducked down again.

  “Wait, stop!” Adam shouted at his congregation, but most of them ignored him. He turned back to Randolph. The woman with the gun had looked up at the roof to check on her friend. Randolph crawled forward and took a gun from a nearby body. He rounded at the same time the woman di
d, and both fired. The bullet grazed her neck, and she clamped a hand against it, blood running red between her fingers. Her own shot was better, the bullet tore through Randolph’s eye, his head smacked against the pavement, and then he lay still.

  The world danced in front of Adam’s eyes, through sweat and tears and a weariness he had felt for years but was only now aware of. Shots rang out, but they sounded like they came from another city, another world.

  There was the woman, heading back toward the building. Adam raised his gun, aimed, held it, held his breath, held everything, and let her go back inside. No one had stopped him; Adam had done that himself.

  “I’m wrong.”

  Adam dropped his gun and walked across the street. Bullets slammed against the ground, poked holes in it, exploded and sent metal shards flicking along the streets, some of them stinging his legs. A bullet grazed his ankle, but he kept walking until he reached Randolph’s body, then he fell to his knees and picked up Randolph’s head. When he moved it another gush of blood and pink matter came out, but Adam set Randolph’s head on his lap, his one good eye staring forever upward.

  “Why him? Why not me?”

  His chest was tight, his eyes felt like they might burst. Would a greater human feel this way if one of its companions fell? It could walk into the flames, but would it ever feel the burn of love, of losing a loved one?

  Adam looked around at all of the people paying for his misunderstanding. He shook his head, shook it harder and stood, letting Randolph’s body fall to the ground.

  “No, stop!” He ran toward his church members, tried to pry a gun from Christopher’s hands, but the old man shoved Adam and kept firing.

  Adam saw the greater humans rushing along the street past the gate, toward the noise and the smell of blood and the glow of fire. He walked toward them, stopped a few feet from the gate, and fell to his knees. He spread his arms wide and threw his head back, staring into the night sky.

  “Go ahead then,” Adam said. “Take me.”