The Aftermath Trilogy (Book 2): The Aftermath [Town of the Dead]

by Smith, Daniel

  Looking at a pile of wood stack near the opening. Reaching over he toss a few pieces into the fireplace. Then started looking for something to use as kindling seeing nothing. He started shaking more his mind managed to fight through the weariness he was feeling with a thought. Struggling he managed to remove one of the emergency road flares from his daypack. After several tries striking the cap across the top of the flare finally getting it to ignite in a sputtering red flame. Thrusting it into the fireplace he soon had a good fire going, he could feel the warmth wash over him as he looked into the fire thinking.

  Commander Hudson entered the first floor of the police station to find a scene of controlled chaos. The medics where busy treating the wounded as people moved about looking out the windows as a flash of lightning and booming thunder shook the building.

  “Everyone away from the windows and pull in the outside guards,” Commander Hudson soft voice took command.

  People turned to look at him as others moved to follow his orders. As he turned to a person running up to him.

  “Give me a status report,” he asked the woman.

  “We have four dead and ten injured. We have six work parties trap outside but safe for now,” she told him as he nodded his gray hair.

  Katrina broke through the crowd her red hair flowing behind her as the smaller form of Mable followed her. She stopped in front of Commander Hudson and looked at Mary. Who dropped her eyes to the ground with a guilty look. Katrina turned to look at Commander Hudson expectantly.

  “Zombies separated Dan from our group when they over ran us,” he started. As a flash of lightning and booming thunder shook the building stressing his words. The room went silent as people moved to listen.

  “We last saw him running down the road in front of a large group of zombies,” he said looking at Katrina.

  She looked from his face to her mother’s then over to Mary who looked at her guiltily.

  “There was nothing I could do,” she started as Katrina shook her head.

  “He will be fine he can outrun zombies,” she said turning to her mother.

  “Yes he can. If you will excuse me,” Commander Hudson said moving off motioning to the remaining self-defense force members to follow. Mary looked one last time to her before moving to follow.

  Mable faced Katrina seemingly looking past her as she ignored this look.

  “He will be all right,” Katrina started. “We are.”

  She started then stopped.

  “He is the one,” she started again stopping looking at Mable.

  “He will be back right mother,” Katrina asked.

  Mable’s gaze moved to her as she smiled sadly looking at Katrina.

  “He will come down that road by dawn, or never,” she said softly.

  Katrina looked into Mable’s eyes and smiled.

  “I will wait for him,” she said turning to move off.

  “Having someone waiting for you can give you hope,” Mable told her as she moved off the sad smile fading from her face.

  Their where zombies grabbing at him pulling him down. Jerking up he pulled the Springfield Armory G.I government model nineteen-eleven forty-five caliber autoloader with dark brown checkered grips from his holster. Winching in pain that shot from his right leg as he sat up.

  “Damn it,” he thought as he looked around the fire had died down to a red glow and he had fallen asleep in a place he had not secured.

  “How many more amateur mistakes was he going to make, why not just walk out the front door and yell at the zombies,” he chastised himself. Listening he could barely hear the decreasing moaning of the zombies over the rain.

  “They must be scattering,” Dan thought since he had taken cover out of sight.

  Checking his watch he found it was just after midnight as he got up hopping over to the door he had seen on the wall. Sticking the flashlight in his shirt pocket. Using his now free hand he tried turning the knob. Finding the door unlocked he pulled it open. The Springfield Armory G.I government model nineteen-eleven forty five caliber autoloader ready.

  It was a closet; he used his free hand to retrieve the flashlight and shined it into the closet. There hung some old sweaters and other items in there but Dan saw what he wanted. Putting his autoloader away he leaned in removing a red handled broom with black plastic bristles. Flipping it upside down he put the bristle under his arm and tried using it like a crutch. Trying to remove the weight and take the pressure off his injured ankle. Not the best or most comfortable way to walk but it worked allowing him to move. Going back to the dining table he looked out the back door windows glad to see the motion sensing light off in the backyard.

  “That is a good sign,” he thought placing the Katana back into it sheath on his back.

  Sitting back down on a dining room chair he started using his knife to cut the mostly dry damaged pant leg into strips to bind up his ankle. Standing to test is work and seemingly satisfied he moved back into the living room.

  Looking to the hallway he had seen earlier spotting several doors in it before making a turn to the right towards the end. Dan stood there thinking the door to his left might lead to the garage so with the flashlight in his right hand and using his left he turned the doorknob. It was another stupid mistake, he felt resistance as he turned but thought it was because of lack of use. However, the instant he finished turning the door flew open knocking him off balance sending him sprawling to the floor causing the broom he was using as a crutch to flying away. Dan barely had time to register a figure fall on to the floor in the door opening. Grabbing madly for his Springfield Armory G.I government model nineteen-eleven forty five caliber autoloader he took aim from the living room floor.

  From where he fell, he could see the figure struggling to start standing as a moaning escaped his lips. Fool he thought he knew better then to open a door like that how many mistakes was he going to make before he ran out of chances. He hurriedly lined up his shot and fired. Watching the zombie jerk backwards to the right as the two hundred and thirty grain bullet. Tore large chunk of his decaying right shoulder away showering the doorframe with bits of dead flesh.

  “Damn it,” he thought as he took the split second to adjust his aim before pulling the trigger again. This time he hit the zombie on the right cheek near the nose watching the back of his head fly apart. The muzzle flash of the gun highlighted the zombie falling to the floor a large cavernous hole occupying the place of the zombie’s brain.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid, two bullets to take out one zombie at this range,” he chastised himself how many more mistakes would he make before they killed him,” he thought angrily.

  He kept the Springfield Armory G.I government model nineteen-eleven forty five caliber autoloader aimed at the door for a full minute. Before lowering the autoloader and recovering the broom. He managed to stand while supporting his weight with his left leg. The man he had shot was looking up from the ground his milky white eyes staring at the ceiling as Dan’s flashlight passed over him showing off the signs of decay. He could see the rips and tears in his flannel shirt and dark stains around them. Dan took the time to shine the flashlight through the open door allowing him to see the garage.

  The smell of decay was strong as he made out a dirty white four door car with the driver door open sitting in the middle of the garage. From the light of the flashlight beam he could see and hear the three other moaning figures moving restlessly in the car. From the stains and damage obvious on the car they survived an attack. Coming here because they live here or it was the closest safe place they could find. To him it looked like the driver made it out of the car before succumbing to his wounds. They others sat trapped by their seat belts in the car. Dan made his way into the garage and around the car closing the driver side door. This muffled the moaning sound coming from the other three zombies in the car. He moved the flashlight around the room and stopped on the woman’s bicycle against the wall.

  “Finally a break,” he thought as he moved over to ch
eck out the metallic blue beach cruiser. Large sloping handlebars and big thick black tires with white sidewalls looking the bike over noticing no gears. The tires sat flat as he looked around for an air pump. Seeing none he set the broom down first on the ground near the bike. Then struggled to join it as he removed his gray daypack. Opening a side pouch on the pack, he removed a small green hand bike pump and a plastic zip lock bag with a tire patch kit and small can of oil in it. He spent the next several minutes pumping up the tires this was the second break he got today, he did not have to patch any of the tires tubes. Then checked over the bike making sure everything was tight putting some oil on the chain. Making his way back to the living room with the help of the broom turning off the flashlight as he approached the front window to move the pale curtains to look out. The rain had stopped allowing moonlight to make it through the gaps in the clouds bathing the street in a faint light. He could see a few zombies milling around but the mass of them where gone.

  He stood there looking at the window, doubt on his face as he kept trying to figure out what he should do. Wait for morning to start heading back or leave right now while the street was clear. Shaking his head as he kept second-guessing his decision. He could see better in daylight so could the zombies or take his chances in the darkness his doubts raged. He would see less in the dark but harder for the zombies to spot him this second-guessing was starting to bother him. He had not felt this uncertain in years. He made his plan and was going to stick to it. He started for the garage and the bike. Making his way back in the garage he reached over the car to pull the red manual release handle for the garage door opener. Dan moved over to the garage door lowering himself to the floor with a wince of pain crossing his face. Used the broom handle he managed to lay flat on the floor. Turning off and putting the flashlight away he used his left hand to raise the garage door a few inches. Looking out into the night the opening he made he saw no one or movement on the drive way or street in front of the house. Lowering the door as he used the broom to help himself to his good foot gritting his teeth in pain; his leg was starting to hurt.

  Mounting the bike and was glad it was a woman’s bike as he swung his injured foot over the bike to the pedal. He let go of the broom and used his good leg to bring the bike parallel to the garage door. Doing a double check of his gear to make sure it was secure, and then with his left hand gave the door an upward shove causing it to open. Once the door was high enough Dan let go of the broom pushing off with his good foot. Wobbling as he struggled to start peddling down the driveway. By using his good leg to do most of the work and using his injured leg just to make sure the pedal made the way back around. Pulling the bike onto the street a lone zombie moaned off to one side. He easily avoided the zombie making his way down the dark street. Getting to the corner of Third Street, circumstances forced him to go left at the intersection going the wrong direction again from the police station to avoid another mob of zombies.

  Seemingly once again the town set out to stop him. Arriving at the next corner zombies forced him to the left again. He had no choice as he veered to the right by zombies coming down both sides of the small tree lined streets between the houses. As he made his way slowly down the street the homes where smaller and the areas between them where overgrown with thick bushes and trees. Once again, he change course to go straight down the next street at the corner because of more zombies coming at him. This street he turned on started narrowing to the width of about a single car. Any homes here hidden behind thick brush a metal guardrail overgrown by weeds and bushes sat at the end of the street. Something large sat as a black mass behind the bushes set against the darkness. Dan stopped the bike placing his good foot on the ground for stability. He could just hear the moans of the zombies that turned onto the street.

  Pulling the flashlight from his tan web belt turning it on passing the light beam over the bushes. He could make out an open area that rose slightly into the darkness with a large black mass set against the night sky. Before he could raise, his light to see what the large mass was a series of lightning flashes. Lit up a long row of train cars leaning at a slight angle followed by thunder a few second later. He returned his flashlight to his belt. Looking at the bushes to his right thinking he should be able to force his way through them. He started forward still on the bike using his good foot to push himself along.

  Before he could make it through the bushes a close moaning sound stopped him, turning his flashlight towards it he saw what used to be a large man in striped gray overalls. His light played across he gray hewn sunken face with dirty brown matted hair pushing through the bushes towards him. Transferring the flashlight to his left hand he pulled the Springfield Armory GI government model nineteen-eleven forty five caliber autoloader from his holster. Bringing his left hand up under his right hand-holding the autoloader allowing him to aim the gun were the flashlight beam pointed. Setting the flashlight beam on the man’s face he took aim pulling the trigger. A flash of fire erupted from the muzzle as a loud crack rang out.

  Dan sent a two-hundred and thirty grain full metal jacketed round into the zombie’s head. Blowing out a large hole from the back of his skull sending his brains to splatter over the bushes as a light rain started. Making one last sweep of the bushes and area behind it he holstered the autoloader. Pushing the black parkerized frame with dark brown-checkered grips back into the black nylon holster. As he started making his way through the bushes to the open area near the sides of the train track.

  Making his way to the rising mound near the track to shine his light on the train cars set at odd angles. Most freight cars that had jumped the tracks. Shining his light up and down the train’s length straining to see as far as his light could reach. All the train cars along the track he could see leaned at a slight angle. He started using his good leg to push the bike down the dirt path following the tracks. His flashlight beam landing on a long round railroad car. Stopping to examine a large twisted metal hole in the tanks side. In the whitish light given off by the flashlight beam, he could still make out scorch marks on the tanker car and ground around it. Moving the light to the next railroad car behind the tank car this one burned also. His discovery interrupted by the growing moans of a zombie. Moving the light towards the sound, he did a double take. His beam of light moved over what he first thought as a pile of ash until it started moving. Pulling the light back to it he stared. He barely made out that it was once a person, now just a mass of blacken burned flesh. Only half was visible with their legs pinned under the railroad car. Watching it move for a moment trying to use it chard arms to pull itself free towards him. Dan blankly stared at the burned zombies when its upper torso ripped free of the trapped half spilling decaying intestines into the dirt.

  Putting away the flashlight he started pushing the bike along the dirt path to the right of the tracks. Picking up enough speed to start peddling once again slowly down the dirt and gravel path between the derailed train and the backyards of homes. Dan left the dirt path of the train tracks at Champangeolle road riding down the small two-lane street overgrown by bushes and tree branches. Almost hiding the small residential houses. Riding slowly down the darken street occasionally lit by a flash of lightning followed by rolling thunder seemingly coming closer by the sound of it. He debated with himself about taking shelter inside one of the homes until morning. Seeing the road empty of zombies and the fact he was finally heading in the right general direction. He decided to press on until the next intersection. Stopping he checked the signs on the street to make sure he transitioned onto a street called Sheppard.

  He passed a red brick building with tall white columns in front of it with a rectangular batter plastic sign in front proclaiming it a church. On this corner the street sign read Madison. This street he knew from the last time he was here it was a few streets away paralleling Northwest street, which he needed. Dan rode on as he made a right turn passing some residential homes and a few light commercial one-story buildings on to West Street. Making a left a
t the next intersection heading in the direction he needed to go. The darkness making it hard to make out more than just the dark shapes of buildings. He started feeling the slight drops of rain falling now. He made it past Jefferson avenue approaching Washington Street. When the loud moaning of many zombies reached him after a loud crack of thunder following a bright flash of lightning that appeared right above him. Dan slowed the bike to a stop putting his good foot on the ground as he tried to see where they were. He felt like his heart skipped a beat when he saw the moving mass of corpses in the darkness coming down the streets on all sides; he knew he had to be silent. Looking at a small square dark brick building to his left he could just see a door set next to some windows.

  Riding up the curb with a jolting bump that transferred pain to his injured leg. Riding the bike up to the door he used the black metal pry bar from his belt to force open the pale color door while still on the bike. After a few awkward moments, he managed to pull himself while still on the bike inside the door. He found a square room with several round tables with plastic chairs around them. One wall held a closed wood door leading into the building and a low counter with two microwave ovens sitting on it next to a large white refrigerator near the end. Shining his light around the room stopping on a poster hung on the wall. He was in the El Dorado water utility buildings lunchroom. Getting off the bike balancing on his good foot, he managed to lean the bike against the wall. He closed the door while doing his best to balance managed to brace a plastic chair against it. Sitting heavily in one chair wincing at the pain in his leg as he pulled the Springfield armory forty-five from his holster placing it and his bow on the beige tabletop. He sat in the dark room looking out the window into the night listing to the rain and watching the shambling figures lit up by the flashes of lighting.

  Dan was not sure if he dosed during the rest of the night as he waited for morning. He hoped the rain would stop before then. Deciding it was to dangers to go any farther tonight. He would wait for morning to see if conditions improved. Sometime before dawn, the rain stopped to allow the red orange line of light to appear as the sun started to rise. Aroused from his stupor he mechanically put the autoloader back into his holster. Standing to place the bow on his shoulder before painfully hopping over to the bike. Using it to support his weight as he went to the four tinted windows near the door looking out into the lighten darkness seeing the street clear. Pushing the chair from where it sat bracing the door he opened the door slowly. His leg received a painful jolt as he lost his grip on the door. The auto-closing latch on the door slamming it into his leg. Cursing he managed to get the bike out the door feeling a trickle of blood start running down his leg as he mounted the bike. With difficulty he started peddling down the street towards Washington making a left on the street near a long abandon fast-food place to continue painfully peddling the bike down the street in the brightening light. He made the left onto Northwest Avenue as he rode down the two-lane road. Passing by single story commercial buildings of various size and shapes, he peddled passed the dollar store and recently busted open pawnshop door which sat closed when he had ran passed just the other day. Dan was slowly making his way towards the slightly arched entranceway to the main doors of the police station. He could just start to make out on one side of the building the chain-link fence separating the trucks and buses they arrived sitting on the street.