B00BDBO28Q EBOK

by Patrick D'orazio

  “Hang on; this might get a little rough.”

  Megan braced herself; the van dipped down and rose back up as they traversed the shallow ditch at the edge of the parking lot. She shifted the revolver to her left hand and gripped the handle above her door. They avoided the paved entrance to the lot, which was crowded with bodies. The van went airborne for a split second and landed roughly on the pavement.

  Megan closed her eyes and cringed as several bodies bounced off the bumper. As the fat rear end of the Odyssey swung sideways, she heard more bodies being knocked over behind them. Jeff floored it again, spinning the wheel frantically left and right, trying to avoid the larger pockets of rotters. He moved in close to the junior high and, at the last moment, turned sharply to the left, weaving around like he was on an obstacle course. More and more thuds were heard as the infected bounced off the van in rapid succession.

  Jeff gripped the wheel like he was strangling it, refusing to let it direct him, which it seemed desperate to do as the front wheels hit more and more bodies and were forced to turn in directions other than that in which he wanted to go. His foot hit the gas and brake in rapid succession, slaloming around the human pylons he was trying to avoid.

  They worked their way across the parking lot toward the church, and Jeff set his sights on the road. They had to try to return the way they had come. It was the only reasonably clear path remaining. The crowd heaved and quivered like a single entity and refused to grant the leeway they needed.

  Jeff hit the brakes. A moving fortification of bodies was closing in from the front and sides. He looked in the rearview mirror, hoping he could throw the minivan in reverse. Seeing it was even worse behind them, he knew going forward was their only option. The bodies were several deep up front, but he knew that if he could gun the engine and build up some speed, the van might be able to break through.

  That was when he saw the others: the crowd that had been following the van from the intersection, the ones they had left behind not so long ago. The newcomers were getting closer and blending in with the infected from the schools, creating an impenetrable wall of rotten meat in front of them.

  A whimper escaped Jeff’s throat. He had forgotten all about them. The horrid parade of infected streamed down the road, swelling the ranks of the horde. In no time, they would overwhelm the van and crush it with their sheer volume. There was no place left to go.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Jeff couldn’t look at Megan. A cacophony of moans surrounded them, rising in pitch and increasing in volume by the millisecond. The ghouls would be on top of the van in moments.

  “I am so sorry, Megan...so, so, sorry.”

  He felt her finger sliding under his chin, raising it up. Jeff tried to avert his eyes, but Megan moved his face toward hers. He felt her lips, cool and dry, on his cheek.

  He opened his red-tinged eyes. They were bloodshot, tired, and sunken. He had nothing left to offer, but Megan was smiling at him. She looked calm, almost serene.

  Even as she touched his face with her hands, she retained her grip on the gun. She shook her head to quiet Jeff. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.” She touched his forehead with hers, and they huddled together, the gun cold and rigid against Jeff’s cheek, a contradiction to the warm and human touch of Megan’s hands. They looked at one another and realized that there was nothing left to say. All that mattered was that they were together.

  The pounding on the van began, and the vehicle rocked beneath the blows. The moans were overwhelming. The two survivors embraced one last time, Jeff nodding when Megan slipped the gun down between them. She held it and waited.

  More ghouls swarmed the minivan, climbing over one another in a desperate attempt to reach the warm, living flesh that called to them.

  Chapter 18

  Jeff heard the pistol cock, but only because it was so close to his ear. They had wrapped their arms around each other when the fists began to rain down. The minivan shook gently at first, the moans intermingled with the wet slapping of rotten flesh against glass and metal. The vehicle held up to the muffled thuds initially, the infected unable to force their way inside as they rammed their bodies against every square inch of exterior space. But as more crowded and pressed against one another, they were starting to have an impact.

  The moans erupting from two thousand corrupted throats began to overwhelm the constant and thunderous hammering of fists. The moaning rose in pitch and seemed to unify into an unholy sound as if it came from a single creature crying out in rage.

  Jeff waited, listening carefully, becoming puzzled. The final moment he had been dreading was not happening. The glass was not shattering, and the doors were not being ripped open. After a few seconds, he thought he could detect a decrease in the number of fists pounding on the exterior of the van. Fighting a nearly paralyzing fear, he opened his eyes.

  Loosening his grip around Megan, Jeff gently pushed her back toward her seat. Bewildered, she opened her eyes and mumbled “What?” in a timid, childlike voice.

  Jeff stared out the window, baffled by what he saw. Many of the creatures remained nearby, smashing their bodies against the quarter panels, but those at the edge of the crowd were drifting away. Jeff and Megan watched as more of the mob peeled off, especially out front. The sounds emanating from outside were jagged, not in harmony as they had been moments before. Confusion rippled through the crowd.

  Jeff sat rigid in his seat, trying to puzzle out what was happening. A path was gradually clearing in front of the van. Not enough to allow him to drive away, but more and more of the foul creatures were wandering off.

  “What are they doing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He searched the crowd. It was hard to see much of anything that would give him an idea of what was going on. He puzzled over the possibilities. What could be more important to the cannibalistic infected than a couple of fresh bodies, probably the only two within miles?

  His mind raced with possibilities. Leaning forward, Jeff squinted, peering through the gaps forming in the crowd. Following the path of stiffs that had turned away from the minivan, he could see they were all moving in the same direction. It was a straight line going past the high school. He strained his eyes and cursed silently. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to find a better angle. Then he stopped, frozen, and saw what was drawing the infecteds’ attention.

  “Oh my God...”

  “What? What is it?” Megan tried to follow his line of sight, but it was hard for her to pick out anything. Jeff pointed at the water tower. There was a sudden intake of breath as Megan finally spied what he was looking at.

  At the water tower was the source of the crowd’s interest: a man had climbed the fence and was sitting on top of it, his feet dangling on both sides. He was waving his arms and whooping at the ghouls, luring them away from the van.

  “There. Holy Jesus, what the hell is he doing?” Jeff said, his voice coming out in a confused croak.

  The man hanging on top of the fence was yelling like a maniac at the plague victims moving slowly toward him.

  “He’s trying to save us.” There was wonder in Megan’s voice. She looked over at Jeff, her eyes alight with hope, and saw the stunned expression on his face.

  “Jeff? JEFF!” Megan shouted as he continued to stare at the madman on the fence.

  Finally, he blinked and looked at her.

  “What’re we going to do?” she pleaded.

  Jeff looked back at the man who was currently swinging a leg over the chain link fence so he could drop into the enclosure. Once inside, he would be trapped. There was no ladder leading up to the top of the water tower. The fence looked rusty and probably wouldn’t hold up under much pressure. The infected were too clumsy to climb, but it would still collapse under their weight within minutes.

  The man dropped down inside the small corral just as the first of the creatures got close enough to grab for him. He was lost from their sight as more of the rotters crowded the fence,
blocking the view.

  “Jeff?” Megan didn’t shout this time, but she was demanding an answer.

  He didn’t have time to respond before something came crashing down in front of them and clobbered two of the pus bags near the van. They were knocked sprawling, one tumbling into the other as something compact slammed into its skull.

  Before Jeff could figure out where the missile had come from, something else slammed into the back of a one-armed man dressed in a tattered business suit. Jeff’s gaze followed the object as it went spinning down to the pavement in the church parking lot. It was a book.

  A wide circle of infected surrounding the area where the book had landed turned as one and stared up at the second floor of the church.

  Megan noticed the attack as well and watched in silence as more books flew from one of the windows of the church and crashed into the group that had suddenly lost all interest in both the van and the man at the water tower.

  As they both peered at the church window, an arm popped out. Another man, waving and screaming in the same suicidal fashion as the one at the tower, was climbing out onto the roof of the church. He was African American, but as Jeff looked closer, he realized he was just a kid. He was too thin and gangly to be an adult.

  The crowd had splintered entirely, with a large portion starting to assault the church.

  “How many of these people are there?” Megan asked. Her tone was awestruck but laced with excitement.

  “I have no idea, but they’re fucking nuts.” Jeff couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice.

  “We have to help them,” Megan said, distracted, as she watched the kid on the roof send more of the books piled in his arms sailing into the crowd. He flipped the ghouls off and laughed as he sent another tome smashing into a police officer’s chest.

  Megan turned to Jeff and tugged at his shirt sleeve.

  She waited until he could tear his eyes away from the boy on the roof before speaking. “I don’t have any clue who they are or why they chose to risk their lives for us, but we can’t leave them here to die.” She shook her head for emphasis. “We just can’t!”

  “I know, I know.” Jeff nodded and smiled gravely. He gave another quick glance out the windshield at the situation unfolding in front of them, and his expression began to change. Megan could see the determined look on his face. There were still a few fiends bashing away at the van, but that was just background noise. Most had wandered off to deal with the man at the water tower or the boy taunting them.

  “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 19

  The van was doing about forty when it plowed through the fence and smashed into five ghouls attached to it. The man standing behind the chain link dove out of the way as the fence collapsed and wrapped around the front of the van. The infected were pinned to the grill, prisoners of the rusty metal pressing against their bodies. The bar running along the top of the fence popped up and collapsed on the Odyssey. As the van skidded to a halt under the water tower, the five hitchhikers on the hood collapsed to the ground in a tangle.

  The newly discovered survivor was already getting back to his feet when Jeff rolled down his window.

  “Get in!”

  The cargo door began its gradual process of opening. Megan stood ready behind it with the .357 in hand and saw that the man looked a little dazed and scratched from his dive to the pavement, but otherwise fine.

  The crowd of infected seemed slightly off their game from the fierce assault, but were already starting to discover the giant, gaping hole in the fence. Megan waved her hand furiously, urging the man on. He stumbled and then dove headlong through the doorway, collapsing to the floor.

  “Go! Go! Go!” she yelled at Jeff as the door began to shut. Jeff flipped the van in reverse and hit the gas. There were several heavy thuds, and their new passenger grabbed hold of the back of a seat and slid his hand up to the arm rest, wrapping his fingers around it tightly as they continued to fly backwards onto the street.

  They skidded to a halt in the middle of the road. Jeff gave a quick look back at the man who had risked his life for him and Megan. He had gotten to his knees and was trying to slide into one of the chairs. He was tall and muscular, and he looked middle aged. His blond hair was going gray at the temples, and there were careworn lines on his face.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t know how else to get to you.”

  The newcomer looked up at Jeff as he plopped into the chair and then looked over at Megan, who tried to give him a reassuring smile. He made an attempt at returning it but looked out of breath.

  “How many of you are over at that church? Is there anyone besides the kid on the roof?” The blond man raised his hand to hold off more questions until he was able to take a deep breath.

  “Just the boy,” he replied. The words were shaky but spoken in a rich baritone.

  “Okay.” Jeff nodded and turned back to the wheel. “I hope he sees us coming.” The new passenger reached forward and gripped the handle on the back of Jeff’s chair tightly.

  The van took off like a shot. After doing a one-eighty, sending any bodies that got in the way flying in every direction, they sped toward the church parking lot.

  Jeff avoided a large group of infected but bumped several more singles as they sped across the road. The windshield had several hairline cracks in it but had survived the assault on the fence. Pulling into the driveway, he glanced up toward the group of windows from which he had seen the books being flung. The kid was still there, waving frantically at them.

  “I hope he figures out what we’re doing,” Jeff said through gritted teeth.

  He drove close to the building, turning the wheel and maneuvering so they were right next to the wall, just below the windows. The roof was flat, so the boy could safely run right over to the van. Jeff adjusted the vehicle until it was flush with the wall. His own door was too close to the building to open, so he jumped from his seat and grabbed his gore-stained bat.

  His two passengers watched as Jeff moved to the side door and glanced out the window. He reached for the handle.

  “Excuse me,” he said, and the other man, stunned, got out of his way. The door slid open, and Jeff gripped the bloody weapon in both hands. “Shut the door behind me please.”

  Megan watched Jeff jump out as several infected closed on him. She could not swear to it, but thought she heard him say “Batter up!” when his feet touched the ground. Even though the man they had just saved looked stunned, he reached for the handle to shut the heavy automatic door as requested.

  Megan glanced over at him. He cut an impressive figure. She estimated that he would stand a couple of inches over six feet. The fit, athletic passenger stood out as a stark contrast to her emaciated frame.

  The confusion on his face looked comical to her. Megan gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “He does this all the time.”

  They both turned to watch the wild-haired crazy man outside the van take aim and send an infected soldier sailing off to the side, a spray of pus erupting from where the bat made contact with his head.

  Jeff yelled, whooping it up as he fell into a groove. He twisted around and sent another dark shape stumbling back, driving the top of the bat through its jaw. He could feel the adrenaline kicking in after being paralyzed with fear just minutes before.

  He yelled, “Hey kid! Jump down. Come on, move it!” Jeff didn’t look back as his bat connected with another soldier’s arm, shattering its humerus. He kicked at the chest of a store clerk—made evident by its tattered, bloodstained uniform—hissing and drooling at him, sending it toppling to the pavement.

  “Move it, kid! Haul ass!”

  Ramming the aluminum bat into the mouth of another rotter, Jeff forced the creature backwards into the next one coming for him. They tumbled over like bowling pins as he backed up toward the van. The survivors were running out of time.

  The thud startled him, but when he glanced back, he felt relief. There wa
s a grunt, and the sound of sneakers hitting asphalt as the young boy landed by the van door, anxiously waiting to get inside.

  “Glad you could make it.”

  Jeff smiled at the gangly African American kid. He was thin, lanky, and tall for his age. The kid didn’t return the smile but turned toward the van as the door opened. The older man grabbed him, yanking him inside. Jeff surveyed the area: another body closing in but still a few feet away. He backed up quickly, dismissing the idea of getting in one last hit, and followed the boy. As soon as he got in, Megan, who had moved to the driver’s seat, pressed a button next to the steering wheel, and the automatic door began to shut.

  “Let’s go!”

  Even before the words had left Jeff’s mouth, Megan had them speeding away as a thick knot of fiends closed in. They moved in reverse as she steered them away from the church until they were facing the street. She flipped gears and floored it.

  “Yeahhhh!” Jeff yelled as he moved to the passenger seat up front. He took several deep breaths. “I can’t believe we made it!”

  Megan and the other man began to laugh. At first it was nervous, but then the floodgates opened and they were all clapping and cheering as they flew down the road. Even the stoic-looking boy cracked a grin.

  There were handshakes and hugs all around as introductions were made. Megan was patted on the back while she headed up the road, and she beamed smiles at Jeff and their new friends.

  The man’s name was George, the boy was Jason. They had been stuck in the Gallatin United Methodist Church since fleeing the high school across the street several weeks back, when a huge mob of the infected swept through and wiped out the National Guard contingent assigned to protect the refugees. They had been hiding out ever since, living on a diet of juice boxes, crackers, and candy bars that had been stored for the church preschool.

  “You’re the first people we’ve seen since …” George’s eyes grew moist as he looked back at the mob slowly following them. He couldn’t continue, and no one spoke. Jeff and Megan could only imagine the nightmare George and Jason had faced when the shelter had fallen and everyone they knew had succumbed to the virus.