The Ark (Life of the Dead Book 3)

by Tony Urban

  “You didn’t have to kill him. He was reasonable.”

  Phillip sneered, waved his arm toward camp. “Reasonable? You stupid hayseed fuck. Have you seen what they’ve done?”

  Wim grabbed the rifle. “I wasn’t talking about the lot of them. Only him.” He glanced down at Jimmy’s body where liters of blood gushed from his skull, melting the snow underneath all the way to the ground.

  “You can believe that if you want, but we’re under attack. How about you stop talking and start shooting?”

  The two men rushed past him, toward camp. Wim turned in that direction but didn’t follow right away. If they wanted to deal out death, he was content letting them do it on their own. He wanted to find Ramey.

  Ramey emerged from the clinic, bursting into the chaos that had consumed camp. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There were zombies everywhere she looked. Some ate. Some stalked new prey. She saw Darry, one of Phillips cohorts on the security force, shoot a male zombie in a Pittsburgh Penguins jersey only to be overwhelmed by five more of the creatures.

  His gun kept firing as they forced him to the ground . She saw random sprays of blood, but the zombies continued their attack. She couldn’t tone out his screams as they ate him.

  Santino, another of the Ark’s cop wannabes, came on that scene too late. He unloaded his pistol into the zombies. Three of them fell and remained motionless. This opened the view and Ramey saw the remaining zombies chomping on Darry’s face and neck. His nose was gone as was one of his ears. Blood bubbled from his mouth. Santino rushed toward them. He cracked the zombie that was eating Darry’s cheek over the head with the butt of his gun and it went down.

  The other zombie looked up, a chunk of flesh dangling from its lips. Santino kicked it in the face and sent it sprawling into the snow. He stomped its head with his boot over and over again. As he smashed its skull in, Santino missed seeing Darry sit up, but Ramey saw it all.

  Darry’s face was mostly gone but he had one good eye and that eye found Santino. He flopped onto his knees, then staggered to his feet. He fell against Santino’s back, his hands catching in the tall man’s belt and pulling his pants down enough to expose his ass crack. Santino tried to turn around to see what or who had hold of him, but Darry’s weight made movement difficult. Darry’s teeth chomped into that exposed section of flesh between his back and butt. Santino groaned and managed to pull himself free of the zombie’s grasp, but it was too late.

  As Santino was being eaten, Ramey remembered his cold eyes as he dragged Wim to the box. Men like Santino were almost as big of parts of the rotten core of the Ark as her own father. She was so caught up in watching the situation unfold that she didn’t see the zombies coming at her from the side until they were close enough to smell. She spun around and saw two of the monsters were less than five feet away. One was short and round, a fireplug of a man. The other was a gray-haired woman in a bright pink jogging suit. Fortunately, neither were fast of foot as Ramey had no weapons. Rather than fight with her bare hands, she ran.

  Wim shoved open the door to Doc’s cabin. Their trailer had been empty and this was his next guess as to where Ramey could be, but as he scanned the quarters it looked like he’d struck out again.

  He hadn’t been inside the cabin since the day he arrived - or was brought to - the Ark. The man’s desk was cluttered with papers and notebooks but the main room was empty. Wim moved on to check what laid behind the three closed doors.

  The first opened to an empty bedroom. The second to a cramped bath. The last door revealed an oversized closet but instead of clothing, it was filled with books and journals. He almost left, but a photo of Ramey caught his attention and he moved to it.

  He realized it was attached to a file and he opened the folder. There were basic statistics, height, weight, date of birth. Then what looked like a medical history. Much of it may as well have been in a foreign language for as much as Wim understood it, but one column made a sort of sense. It was headed with ‘Vaccines’ and contained dates for diseases such as chickenpox, the mumps, measles, etc. The last line was curious though. It was dated three years earlier and labeled only ‘Test’.

  Wim sorted through the files underneath. They all had photos of men and women he knew only from the Ark. All had vaccine records and all had more recent entries in the ‘Test’ column. A gunshot outside the cabin stole his attention but before he left, he folded Ramey’s file in half and shoved it inside his coat.

  Outside Doc’s cabin Wim saw Butch shoot a bearded zombie in a blaze orange hunting jacket. The bullet ripped through the creature’s forehead and exploded out the back of its head.

  Butch spun toward him, pistol raised, until he realized it was Wim and not another zombie. “Wwww - what were you dddd-doing in DDDD - Doc’s cabin?”

  Wim shook his head and moved toward him. “There’s no one inside. You don’t think they got Doc, do you?”

  If Buck had been smarter, he’d have realized Wim didn’t give a fig about Doc’s well-being, but the man wasn’t a bright bulb. “He’s in the llll-lab. He’s safe there.”

  More gunshots came from closer camp. Buck looked in that direction, then back to Wim. “YYYY - You gonna help or not?”

  “I’ve been helping.”

  Buck headed toward the sound of gunfire. Wim followed only because it took him closer the clinic which was his last hope for finding Ramey safe. If she wasn’t there, he knew she was either out here in the chaos, or that the attackers already had her.

  Of all the people Ramey could have run into, the last one she wanted to see was Phillip, but that was who she literally crashed into as she made the corner around the mess hall.

  He looked panicked and afraid, his pale freckled skin flushed. He tried to mask his fear with anger. “Why aren’t you still with Doc?

  “How long have you known he was crazy?”

  Neither had an answer for the other and, as a group of nine zombies approached, there was no time for follow ups. Phillip shot and sent a round flying through the afro of a black zombie. It kept coming.

  “Give me a gun,” Ramey said.

  Phillip glanced her way before shooting again. That bullet hit the zombie above its left eye and it collapsed. “This is the only one I got.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She knew he usually kept a gun in an ankle holster and she also knew he’d never head out into a situation like this with only one firearm. “Come on, Phillip. Let me help. I can shoot.”

  Ramey hadn’t fired a gun since before coming to the Ark and even then, she was far from a crack shot, but she knew she’d feel more comfortable with a gun in hand rather than nothing at all.

  A zombie which Ramey recognized as a man who dished out food in the Ark’s mess hall headed the group coming at them. She saw he was missing most of its fingers and several large chunks of skin on one arm. Phillip shot and killed him, then squatted down and grabbed the small gun off his ankle. He pushed it at Ramey.

  “It’s loaded but only holds six.”

  Ramey accepted it and chambered a round. She shot at a zombie who was missing so much flesh on its cheek that Ramey could see her teeth. The shot missed.

  Well, my accuracy sure as hell hasn’t improved.

  Phillip looked at her and opened his mouth, likely to insult her, but before he could get out the words, a gaunt, Asian-looking zombie grabbed Phillip’s coat. Shocked, Phillip squeezed the trigger of his pistol and sent a bullet into the snow. He tried to squirm free but another zombie, a fat man in a tattered three-piece suit, got ahold of his arm.

  The rest of the zombies were at them now. Ramey fired the pistol and hit a zombie that didn’t look much younger than herself, in the mouth. She saw its teeth shatter and its arms flail as it fell into the snow. She steadied herself and aimed at a zombie wearing a blue scarf with white snowflakes embroidered on it. The bullet hit the woman just under the center part of her hair and she fell.

  There was a garbled mixture of a grunt and a squeal behind her an
d Ramey turned to see the other zombies had forced Phillip to the ground. They had his jacket open and were ripping at his shirt. Ramey shot one of them in the back of its head and it fell on top of Phillip’s legs.

  The zombies had torn Phillip’s shirt and were working on his stomach. Ramey saw their long, ragged fingernails puncture his almond white flesh. Dark red blood bubbled from the wounds. Then their fingers went deeper. She could see their digits writhing under his skin, like his belly was full of worms.

  Phillip screamed as their hands jerked and yanked and pulled at his flesh and the tissue underneath. She heard the wet tearing sound as it gave way and his intestines were revealed. The monsters moved on to them and ripped them free, eating them like sausage links.

  Ramey couldn’t bear to see any more. She looked away from the carnage and her eyes found Phillip’s face. It was a mask of agony. Tear streamed from his eyes. Snot from his nose. Blood and saliva from his mouth.

  “Shoot me!” He cried. “Please, kill me!”

  Ramey knew it was the humane thing to do. Phillip’s time on Earth was down to seconds. There wasn’t any coming back from this.

  She raised the little pistol and closed one eye as she aimed the peep sights at his face. As she started to put pressure on the trigger, she remembered what she’d seen in her father’s lab. The things her father had said. Phillip knew everything he’d been up to down there. Not only knew of them, but took part in them.

  With that in mind, Ramey decided he deserved everything that was happening to him right now. One of the zombies had progressed past his intestines and pulled free a kidney, or maybe it was his liver. She hadn’t done well in anatomy. The organ came free with a thick sucking sound and Phillip shrieked again.

  Ramey turned her back on him and listened to the sounds of his death as she walked away.

  Doc’s lab was on the opposite side of the center of camp and between it and Wim were the tractor trailers, the zombies, and the men who had attacked camp.

  Buck sidled up next to him as they surveyed the scene. “You thththth - think we can take them?”

  Wim thought the odds were against it and all he really cared about was getting to the clinic. He pondered their situation for a moment and came up with something resembling a plan.

  “Not head on we can’t. We need to stay hidden. I’ll go left, you right, but stay out of sight and don’t waste any ammunition.”

  “What about the aaaa - assholes who brought them here?”

  “Do what you want.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll work on the zombies.”

  Wim didn’t wait for Buck’s opinion. He dashed away, taking refuge at the corner of a small building that served as one of the Ark’s outhouses. He poked the rifle barrel around the corner, aimed, and began to shoot.

  Saw hunkered down behind one of the oversized wheels of the dump truck. Mitch was on his heels. The zombies - his zombies - kept dropping. Another fourteen since he’d sent Jimmy to find the shooter. Now Jimmy hadn’t returned and the shooting had recommenced and Saw didn’t need to be a MENSA candidate to figure out what happened.

  “Where the fuck is he?” Mitch asked.

  “Probably dead.” Another zombie fell. For the first time, doubt had crept into his mind. Saw thought he might lose this battle and that didn’t sit well with him. He motioned to Casper who had been guarding the door where the hostages were being kept. “Grab one of them and bring them out here.”

  “Who?” Casper called.

  “I don’t fucking care. A woman.”

  Casper disappeared into the building and emerged a moment later with the old hag who’d ratted out the shooter. Casper held her by her long hair with one hand and had a pistol pressed against the soft flesh under her chin with the other.

  “You wait here,” Saw told Mitch as he stepped into the open. He went to Casper and the woman. The shooting had stopped, for the moment. “Give her to me,” he told Casper and the man shoved her toward him.

  Delphine stumbled in the snow and went down on her hands and knees. She began to push herself up but Saw stepped on her hand. He felt a few subtle pops as her fingers broke.

  “Whoever’s out there shooting.” He glanced in the direction of the shots. “For every one of my zombies you kill from here on out, I’m killing one of your people. And if my math’s right, your numbers’ll run out long before mine do.”

  Saw stood over her, his pistol pointed down at the back of her head. “So, how’s about you come out and we settle this man to man?”

  He waited. Nothing. But no shooting either so that was a plus. “Come on now, mate. This old girl’s getting cold laying in the snow like she is.”

  Saw stared ahead trying to see the shooter, anything that would give him up, but found nothing. Then he caught movement to his right. A man emerged from behind a shed. He held a pistol and it was aimed at Saw.

  “Thanks for joining us. Now toss me that gun of yours.”

  The man shook his head. “I dddd - don’t think I will.”

  Christ, what a bunch of misfits, Saw thought. It was hardly the best of the best that had survived the apocalypse. “If you’re wise you will, mate. There’s three of us.” He looked to Mitch, then Casper, then back to the man. “And one of you. Be smart now, won’t you?”

  Buck looked at them, his head swiveling around, taking it all in, but he didn’t lower the gun.

  “If you want me to kill this old girl to prove I mean business, I will. Then her blood’s on you. Is that what you want?”

  Buck took another step closer. “YYYY - You shoot her, I shoot you.”

  “I’d like to see you try that, nigger,” Casper said, his voice dripping with hate.

  Saw saw Buck’s eyes change. Where there was something that could pass for courage before, now there was fury. “Aw, fook.”

  In a quick motion Buck spun away from Saw and dropped to his knees. Casper shot but he was aiming for where the man had been standing, not at the new, low profile. Before he could readjust, Buck fired.

  The bullet hit Casper in the hollow between his collar bones. At first it was a black spec against his white skin but then blood gushed out like water from a hole in a dam. Casper tried to plug it with his finger but the blood kept coming.

  Saw realized everyone was looking at Casper dying on his feet. He lifted his gun away from Delphine’s head and pointed it at the stuttering shooter, and pulled the trigger. Buck never saw the bullet coming before it punctured the side of his head and sent him to the ground.

  Wim winced as Buck went down. He admired the man for having the courage to walk into that scenario, but then again it hadn’t worked out too well for him.

  Earlier, when he looked through the scope he’d seen Wayne at the older man’s side and realized it had all been a set up. And, with a sickening feeling in his gut, he understood that this was all his fault. He’d brought the boy into camp against all of Doc’s rules and against common sense. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. Only now it had led to even more death in a world where the living were already in short supply.

  He couldn’t dwell on it now though. There’d be plenty of time to beat himself up later if he survived. Now, he needed to fix the mess he’d created.

  There were eight zombies roaming through the area. A ninth rose before Wim’s eyes as Casper’s eyes went blank and he took a shuffling step forward. Wim thought he seemed like as good a choice as any. He watched through the scope as he shot the newly undead man in the head and put him down for good.

  Wim reloaded and shot, reloaded and shot, as fast as he could maneuver the bolt action rifle. Nine zombies became three in less than a minute.

  Mina stood in the now open doorway and flinched as another zombie was killed. She watched as Saw peered around the camp, trying to find the source of the bullets but having little luck.

  “I’ve had about enough of this,” he said. “I don’t think this hunk of rock’s really worth fighting for anyway.�
�� He motioned to Mitch.

  “What do you say, Mitchy? Anything here worth taking?”

  Mitch shook his head. “It’s too damned cold here. We’ve got most of the guns. All that leaves are canned goods and farm animals.”

  “I don’t think we got time or the manpower to lift a couple piggies into the trucks anyway.”

  Mitch nodded in agreement.

  “Then let’s get the hell outta ‘ere.”

  “What about her?” Mitch pointed to Delphine who still knelt in the snow, clutching her crushed hand.

  “Her?” Saw stared down at her. “You asked me earlier, when I was done killing, that I’d give you this island back.”

  Delphine peered up at him and nodded.

  “Aw right then. But there’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not done killing.”

  Saw shot her in the face, the bullet blasting through her eye. Her weathered, wrinkled skin contorted into a grimace and she fell into the snow.

  Mina turned away from the sight of it and looked at the dozen or so cowering men and women in the room. The faces of strangers. She doubted she’d said a hundred words combined to all of them put together. Could she really stay here with them? On this island overrun with zombies? Even if they somehow managed to kill the monsters, it was only a matter of time before someone else showed up to take or destroy what they had. And it was obvious fighting wasn’t this lot’s strong suit.

  “I think you managed to find ya’self a group of people even more worthless than you, Birdie. And that’s saying’ somethin’,” her daddy’s voice said.

  Saw jumped onto the truck’s running board and leaned into the cab.

  “Gonna be just you and a bunch of chickens. A flock of birdies waiting to get picked off by a cat.”

  “I’m no chicken, Daddy,” Mina said.

  A woman to her right looked at her, her face a mask of fear and confusion. “What did you say?”

  Mina ignored her. She stood up, head high. She was tired of cowering. She ran out of the building just as Saw emerged from the truck. In his hand, he held a white propane tank, the kind people used on their grills. Taped to the side of it was a road flare. He struck the flare and the light of the fire turned his face red. He looked every bit the Devil.