by Damon Novak
We had looked up too late. It was like slow-motion as he fell forward, and I noticed several things durin’ that snapshot in time.
He had been a huge man when alive; probably a body builder or a professional wrestler. He wore a gore-spattered tank top, and his black hair hung two feet below his shoulders. His ragged arms were like tree trunks leakin’ bloody sap, the biological bark peelin’ away.
His downward arc was already in motion, and as his hands hooked around Georgina’s neck, she screamed again, this time in surprise and terror.
His mouth stretched wide open as his weight pushed Georgina backward, revealin’ perfect, bloodstained teeth.
Somethin’ triggered inside me and I dropped the rod I held and grabbed him by the hair, with both hands, tryin’ to yank him backward, off Georgina Lake.
I couldn’t see her face. I had tunnel vision, wanting only get this brute’s rotting body off her.
I’d wrapped his hair around my clenched fist, and climbed atop the heap of mushy bodies behind him to get enough leverage to pull him back, but his deteriorating scalp tore away from his head, and he fell forward with all of his weight.
I heard the breath leave Georgina’s lungs, feelin’ like I’d doomed her with my dumb decision.
As I regrouped, climbin’ back over the fleshpile, I saw Georgie’s hands clutchin’ the rod in both hands. With a lucky jab – because her eyes were squeezed closed and I knew she couldn’t see shit – she used her left hand to position it and her right to thrust.
She got the bastard in the left ear, and I heard a sickenin’ crack as it shoved through his brain and poked out the other side.
His body went limp on top of her, and before I could even think, I grabbed the looped side of the rod and yanked back as hard as I could, rollin’ the dead weight off my fellow survivor.
I heard another shotgun blast from across the street. It comforted me as I dropped down to my knees over Georgina and wiped the gore from her face. I leaned forward more and used my shirt to clear it away from her eyes and mouth.
I didn’t know what that shit could do if someone swallowed it.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she huffed quickly, turning her head to spit and cough.
She must’ve had the same fear I did.
“You okay? He bite you?”
“No, no,” she panted. “God, my heart is pounding!”
“Can you get up?” I said. “Let me help you?”
She nodded and I hooked her beneath her arms and pulled her from the ground like she weighed no more than a feather.
“Mom!” I heard, and looked over to see a girl, looking uncannily like Georgina, standing well behind the pile of dead zombies in the doorway. Beside her was a young dude, skinny, blonde and with the same wide eyes as the girl.
“Roxy!” shouted Georgina, and she pushed around me, her strength and composure returnin’ instantly. She mounted the pile of bodies and practically leapt over them as her arms wrapped around her kid.
The boy stared at them for a second or two, then he looked at me. “You okay, buddy?” I asked.
“Now I am,” he said. “Now we are. We hoped, but we didn’t really believe you’d make it here.”
“We did, but we gotta go,” I said.
Behind me, another shotgun cracked through the neighborhood.
“Now!” I shouted.
Georgie turned, and in one fluid motion, she took her daughter’s hand and yanked her toward the door. The young guy, who’s name I remembered was Terry, followed. I fell in, and we charged down the walkway into the street.
I could see the crazy horde of rotters pressin’ against the fence, and as though they waited for me to get there, they surged forward.
It gave way, collapsing slowly at first, then with the crack of the posts on either side, falling flat to the grass.
I heard Nokosi behind ‘em, the deep barks taking on a feverish, high pitch.
“Get in the car!” I shouted, and Terry, Georgie and Roxy dove into the back seat. I jumped in the driver’s seat and fired the engine.
I took the radio from the seat. “Georgie, radio Lilly!” I tossed it in back and jammed the accelerator, dropping it into first gear and gassin’ it hard. I wanted to spin the tires to draw the zombies away from the downed fence, but the weight of the boat made ‘em grip, and I shot forward, crankin’ the wheel so I could skirt around the white sedan that blocked half the road ahead.
“Who’s Lilly?” asked Roxy, but Georgina was already talkin’.
“Lilly! Come in! Where are you?” She turned to her daughter. “She’s Cole’s sister. Roxy and Terry, meet Cole.”
I swerved around the rear bumper of the white car and punched it to the end of the street. I was headin’ in the wrong direction to find Lilly, but I heard Georgie behind me, and waited to hear my sister respond.
To my relief, her voice came back right away. “Nokosi’s fighting them!” she shouted. “I’m almost to the north fence!”
I spun the wheel right and made the right turn, feelin’ the boat’s tires chirpin’ as I bounced around the corner. I didn’t know the area, and the GPS was useless, but I found another street about two hundred feet ahead and turned right again, puttin’ me northbound toward the street I’d crossed to get to Hemingway’s house.
Ahead of me, a horde of zombies shambled across the lawn to my right, and I turned left to steer around them. Three or four of ‘em slammed into the side of the Rover, and I shifted into third gear as I felt more of ‘em hit the boat.
I didn’t know where they came from, but the back of the structure in the distance looked the same as the front of the inn, so I was probably seein’ the backside.
“Hang on!” I shouted, reachin’ the next corner and crankin’ the wheel hard right. The minute I came around, I saw Lilly, one leg over the fence, and the other caught on somethin’.
My heart slammed in my chest. I didn’t see anything behind her, but the trees and bushes were thick. I leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window.
“Lilly!” I screamed. “Here!”
She looked up at me, and I saw them behind her. Four or five just came into view, but there had to be more. Nokosi’s frantic barks were now high and piercing.
I turned hard toward the curb and slammed on the brake, pushin’ in the clutch and throwin’ it in neutral. I jammed on the parkin’ brake, grabbed the other shotgun, this one an older double-barrel, from between me and the seat I hoped Lilly would occupy in a few more seconds.
As I ran toward the low fence, I saw her yankin’ her leg, but she wasn’t makin’ any headway. I got up next to her and stepped to the side, firin’ that shotgun for all it was worth at the horde comin’ up on us.
“Let go of the goddamned leash!” I shouted, and she did.
Nokosi went berserk. She leapt up, biting the nearest zombie in the face, takin’ him down. Behind her came three more, but she was in a frenzy by then, and she let go of the one she’d attacked, and used her mouth, paws and her full weight to fight them off.
I fired twice more, then dropped the shotgun. I saw hers layin’ on the ground, just before it got covered by more oncomin’ deadheads. Throwin’ my arms around my sister, I yanked her as hard as I could, and I heard her jeans rip as she came free.
I dropped her, and she came down on both feet.
“Run to the car, now!” I yelled, grabbin’ my shotgun and emptyin’ both barrels into the crazed monsters.
Nokosi had been knocked back and rolled over, and now prepared to charge them again. “Nokosi!” I yelled. “Schnell! Achtung!” I yelled every word I’d ever seen on an old show I used to watch reruns of when I was a kid, Hogan’s Heroes.
Nothin’ worked. Nokosi went in again, teeth bared, growls matching those of her intended victims.
From behind me, I heard, “Nokosi! Kommen Sie!”
The dog turned immediately and ran for the fence, jumping it in a smooth motion and clearin’ it by a foot.
We ran for the Rover. Well, Nokosi ran. I tried to keep up.
Lilly was in, and she held the door open. Nokosi jumped inside, landin’ right on top of her, and I charged around the front of the vehicle and jumped inside.
I needed a goddamned minute to sort out what had just happened in my head, but I didn’t have a second. The rotters were fallin’ over the broken fence and scramblin’ back to their feet, makin’ their slow, rotted ways toward us.
I threw it in gear and dropped the clutch, sendin’ the gravel flyin’ up behind me. We reached the corner and cranked it left, puttin’ space between us and the Hemingway Horde.
Ω
“What did you say to her?” I asked, as I got in the clear. “How the hell did you get her to come?” I looked at Georgina’s reflection in the rearview mirror.
“I said come in German,” she answered.
“How did you know how to say that?” I asked, zigzaggin’ past a burned-up station wagon.
“I spent a lot of time with Sonya,” she said, holdin’ on as I threw everyone in the Rover sideways. “I asked her all the commands.” She sounded way calmer than I felt.
I knew why. She held her daughter’s hand tightly in her own. No matter what happened now, she was with her little girl.
“Thanks for saving us, sir,” said Terry. “I was pretty sure we weren’t getting out of there.”
“Not a problem, buddy,” I said. “We gotta look out for one another.” My heart was beginnin’ to settle down as I reached another corner and made the turn.
“My damned leg was caught on some nail or something,” said Lilly. “Jesus, I’m glad you showed up.”
I realized I wasn’t on the same path I’d taken in, and after two more turns, I was messed up. I didn’t know which way to go.
I came to another intersection and instinct told me to make a left, then another, and I should get back to the Overseas Highway. My luck didn’t hold.
There, in front of a cluster of three hotels, was a massive group of shorts-wearin’, tropical-pattern tee shirt sportin’ dead-eyed tourists. At the sound of the Rover’s motor, they turned in our direction.
“Make a right!” shouted Terry, and for some reason, I listened to the punk.
“Where’s this lead?” I yelled, shiftin’ the Rover and gassin’ it around the corner.
“Away from them!” he said, and I could tell he was still terrified. Probably worse than when he was trapped in that buildin’.
I yanked the GPS off the windshield and handed it to Lilly. “Plug in Miami or somethin’ and get us the hell outta here!”
I hit a straight road, but now it seemed there were rotters everywhere. I turned right away, findin’ an open piece of road, and I drove like a bat outta hell.
The Rover jerked and sputtered. I double-clutched it, revved the engine, and threw it back into gear.
The engine coughed. I looked at the fuel gauge.
It was so far below empty, I hadn’t run it down that far in years. I saw a Marina parkin’ lot on my left and cranked the wheel, lettin’ momentum carry me up the drive. I kept my eyes peeled and found what I was lookin’ for.
My engine backfired but didn’t die. I must’ve been burnin’ fuel, water, piss, and whatever the hell else was at the bottom of that Rover’s gas tank, but it kept chuggin’ along.
I turned down the boat ramp and spun the wheel hard, until I was facin’ up the ramp.
“What the hell are you doin’, CB?” yelled Lilly.
“I’m launchin’ the goddamned boat!” I yelled, and threw it into reverse, backin’ it up until the boat trailer’s tires were in the water.
Throwin’ the door open, I saw a new horde – just like the old horde – comin’ at us from the restaurants and tropical hotels packed around the marina.
“Get out and jump in the boat. Grab what you can, but hurry!” I shouted. I got out and ran around to release the winch that secured the boat to the trailer.
Nobody argued. When they came around the truck, I pulled up the rear window and dropped the tailgate. I released the latch and reversed the handle on the crank winch, until it was loose enough to take the hook of the eyebolt on front of the boat.
They weren’t reverent about it. Guns and ammo flew through the air from the Rover to the boat, and I started helpin’, keepin one eye on the advancin’ horde, now about fifteen feet from the Rover’s front bumper.
I knew I was about to say goodbye to an old friend. Red Rover wouldn’t float, and I didn’t see any better way out of this Godforsaken town.
“Jump in the boat!” I yelled, grabbin’ a rifle from inside the Rover. “Go!”
They all did. I ran around and fired three shots, missin’ on the first two. I took down the lead zombie with a headshot, and three tumbled over him as I jumped into the cab, released the parkin’ brake and threw it in neutral.
I jumped out and ran toward the boat, now rollin’ fast into the water, the Rover right behind it.
When it hit the water, the boat started to float off the trailer, but the Rover didn’t stop. It slammed the bow and knocked the boat about ten feet into deeper water.
I took advantage of the sinking car, jumping up on the top of the cab. I heard the engine turnin’ over, as Lilly tried to start the boat.
Behind me, the horde reached the water and kept on comin’. There must’ve been thirty or so, arms outstretched, mouths open and hungry.
I saw the engine fire, and black smoke bellowed from the rear of the boat. I dove from the truck and swam, feelin’ the dead breath of hell on my feet behind me.
I’d barely gotten to the side of the boat when I heard, “Cole! Nokosi!”
I turned to see the dog in the water, swimmin’ toward us but strugglin’, like swimmin’ wasn’t its particular forte.
I was glad fightin’ zombies seemed like it came naturally. That was the second reason I swam after her. The first one was, I just loved dogs.
I was wiped out, but I reached the dog and threw and arm over her back. She struggled, but I wound that rope around my hand three times and kept kickin’, movin’ toward the boat on my back.
When I got there, I pushed Nokosi up, and they pulled her into the boat. Next, I felt multiple arms grabbin’ me and haulin’ me inside. I rolled up and in, landin’ on my back on the deck inside.
As I stared up at the blue sky, I saw the world spinnin’ above me as I felt us accelerate toward open water. Nokosi weakly licked my face.
I let it go on for a couple of seconds before pushin’ myself up. “Stop, Lilly!” I yelled.
“What?” she screamed, incredulous. “What the hell for?”
“We need a bigger boat,” I managed, and coughed up a mouthful of water.
The boat slowed. Lilly knew I was right.
Ω
“Right there,” I said, pointin’. “That’s the kind of boat that’ll get us where we need to be.”
“Can you even drive a boat like that?” asked Lilly.
“A boat’s a boat. If I can start it, I can drive it.”
“Guess that makes sense. Everyone, scan the dock. Make sure it’s clear.”
She turned the boat around a fuel dock and alongside some bumpers, already awaiting a larger boat than ours. The boat I had my eye on was docked on the opposite side of the 10’ wide dock.
“Looks clear to me,” said Terry.
“Me, too,” said Georgina and Roxy simultaneously. Mother and daughter, for sure.
The boat was a Sea Ray Sundancer, and looked to be about a forty-footer. That would provide comfort and showers, lights and all the amenities we would need. It would have a great GPS and cushy seats.
What’s more, it was all buttoned up. That told me two things; first, the fact that all the covers were in place told me it was unoccupied at the moment. Secondly, it said the owners took good care of it.
It took us fifteen minutes to transfer the gear from our boat to the Sea Ray.
I popped the ignition with a screwdriver. After abou
t seven anxious turns of the starter, it fired up and purred like a kitten on its full tanks of fuel.
We all needed a break. After we threw the lines, we motored out until the depth finder said we were in twenty feet of water.
I set the anchor, made sure we were caught, and cut the engine.
“Let’s get some rest,” I said. “We’ll head out in the mornin’. I think all of us could use some rest and maybe a couple showers each.”
Nobody argued. I’d found the manual and determined how to tell how much water was on board, and found everything to be topped off.
We’d gotten damned lucky. The boat had around a 300-mile range at around 26 miles an hour.
That would do. There weren’t any zombies on the water.
Not that we knew of.
Ω
EPILOGUE
“Hey, this is Micky Rode, coming at you from somewhere in the eastern part of the United States of America. I’m not sure if you all know this, but me and a whole bunch of other folks – I hope like hell they’re with me, anyway – are making our way to Lebanon, Kansas.
“After that, we’re gonna mount an effort to nail down the location of a Native American medicine man or witch doctor – whatever’s the politically correct term nowadays – named Climbing Fox Wattana of the Henomawi Tribe.
“Now, this dude said he’s the cause of the black rain that set all this crazy zombie shit in motion. Maybe you guys have seen the video. He killed himself in that video – or at least that’s what he wants everyone to believe. I think different; I think he meant to kill everyone else and have a little bigger chunk of land for his people to spread out on. But I also think he might’ve underestimated the power of his own curse.
“I say it’s a curse, because I’ve never seen blacker magic than this. People dying and coming back to life. True-to-life zombies, people. But I don’t need to tell you that. The only reason I’m broadcasting at all is to let you know that our goal is to find this dumb bastard and force his ass to reverse this shit.
“Right, right. We don’t know if it’s possible. Doesn’t matter. It’s our best hope. If he can’t, we’ve gone on a journey. If he can, we might save humanity. Since you gotta be somewhere, Lebanon might as well be it.”