by Steve Wands
"Ah, shit, did you hear that?" Gerty said, looking around. "Get in your cars, and follow Frank. Let's go!"
"Boone, I'm sticking with my idea: me and Judy are gonna light this place up," Scott said as he ran towards the fire.
"Hurry the fuck up, and watch yer ass," Boone said, running to his car.
Jon-Jon ran to his van as Dawn followed behind. Scott grabbed a tree branch full of flaming leaves and tossed it into the thick of the woods, igniting the fallen leaves on the ground. Judy did the same. The leaves began to burn and the crackling of fire began to fill the night air. Frankie was heading back down the path with a convoy behind him. Scott and Judy now had a significant blaze going, nothing that compared to their current bonfire, but it was something.
The last of the vehicles pulled out and down the path. Scott and Judy continued to spread the fire along the brush. Some patches took while others died out or else blew away. Judy ran to their little car, an early hybrid. It used to be a bright blue, but that was no longer the case. She started it up and drove it toward the path. She got out and left the door slightly open. Judy was getting very nervous.
The fire was climbing the trees as the sickly smell of rotted meat crawled up her nose. She knew the smell all too well, even before the dead came back to life she'd come to know that smell. It was rot. She recalled one of the few cadavers she ever worked on. It was summer. The man had gotten so drunk that he fell off his balcony and broke his neck on the way down. He landed behind a row of bushes and laid there for three days before anyone noticed. His neighbors didn't notice he was missing, just that there was a terrible smell. His neighbor thought the smell came from a dead animal. When she found out it was the man from upstairs she was aghast. She never knew the man, but if you asked her if she did, she'd probably tell you 'no' but that she knew he liked to have fun (and maybe he had a bit too much fun the night he fell).
"I think we should go," she said, and went back to the car, throwing another burning branch into the woods.
"Right behind you, babe," Scott had a flaming branch in each hand. He ran them down a bit farther and tossed them. He turned and ran to the car. He hopped into the passenger side and Judy pressed the pedal to the floor.
She raced down the path, sweating, Scott too, he wiped his brow. Judy started screaming. At first Scott looked at her, then looked ahead at the path. There were lurkers coming out of the woods. Many of them were seminude, their clothes and skin were shredded, both hanging on in desperate clumps and clots.
"Gun it, don't stop!" Scott yelled.
She listened, plowing two of them over, one of them leaving some of its rotting face on the windshield; skin off of its cheekbone and the dried up gelatin of its yellowed eyes. Judy kept up her speed, although the handling on the woodland ground was far from ideal. But she managed to keep the car on the path. She hit another, and another, as the blood and gristle covered the windshield. She flicked on the wipers and they did a wonderful job of smearing it around without wiping it off. She couldn't see any of the damage that the dead things had done to her car, but she could feel it in the handling.
Nearing the end of the path, she fishtailed onto the road and could see thirty of forty of them lumbering forward, which was just the tip of the iceberg. Dead fingers scraped at the windows as Judy sped away.
"Whoo!" Scott yelled, his grin going from ear to ear.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," is all Judy could say.
"That was fuckin' crazy!" he said as he put his hand over his chest to feel the rapid beating of his heart.
Her foot was pressed to the floor, and their little car sped along. The windshield wipers were finally starting to clear some of the gunk off. The dim yellow streetlights made the blood smears look like yellow mud. There were chunks of gristle on the grill, around the headlights, the rearview mirrors and even the sides of the car were caked in blood.
They pulled up to the liquor store. Everyone else from the group was outside of their cars and in the midst of a harried group discussion. The kids were sitting in the back of Frankie's pick up and inside Jon-Jon's van, just out of earshot. Everyone turned to look when Scott and Judy pulled in, they continued looking when they saw how bloody the vehicle had become.
"What the hell happened?" Boone asked.
"They were right on top of us, as soon as we started down the trail, they were everywhere," Judy said.
"We were maybe two minutes behind the rest of you guys and then bam, out of nowhere," Scott finished for her.
"Shit, they're moving quicker than we thought," said Ben.
"Who the hell are you?" Scott asked the new guy.
"Ben. We were at the store, met up with your friends there," Ben told him. He held his palm up to point out Shorty and Chung-Hee.
"Oh, okay, sorry, didn't mean to sound like a dick," Scott mumbled.
"Okay, so they're still on our ass," Eddie said.
"...and we're still no better off than before," Frankie headed towards his truck.
"What about those office buildings down the way?" Judy asked.
"Nah, we'd really have to check it out before jumping inside," Boone said.
"He's right, we have to go further. We'd need time to check a place out...could walk into a deathtrap," Eddie insisted.
"Can we fight 'em? Are there really that many...we got guns," Ricker chimed in.
"Ricker, that would be crazy," Boone snapped.
"It's not that crazy...maybe..." Jon-Jon muttered.
"Get the fuck outta here, you seen how many there were," Gerty clenched her meaty fists.
"I'm serious. There's that truck stop not too far from here, just past the office buildings, we can rig that big propane tank to blow and that could set off the pumps," Jon-Jon continued.
"That's fucking crazy and stupid!" Gerty's knuckles turned white as she squeezed her fists tighter.
"I never said it wasn't, but so is being chased by fucking zombies," Jon-Jon replied.
"Please don't call them that, it creeps me out. Zombies can't be real. Those people must have a disease or something," Judy said.
"Save the debate for later. Jon, maybe you're right...it's not that bad of an idea," Boone said, "its crazy enough, it just might work."
"What?" Gerty was dumbfounded.
"If we can kill enough of them... maybe we can pass them. If not, we can still try for the city. There's many small towns up ahead, too that we can drive through and maybe get around those things. We already know what's behind us," Boone continued.
"Ain't nothing behind us," Ricker added, spitting on the ground, "nothing but dead ends," he added with a morbid smile.
"What do we have to lose?" Boone asked.
Despite the lack of any unanimous decision, the group headed for the truck stop. There was certainly the chance that the truck stop would be out of fuel and low on propane. But without much of an alternative Jon-Jon and Boone persuaded the others to see it through. How they managed to do so, neither could figure out. It seemed with each passing day people were willing to do things they wouldn't have a day prior.
While passing the section of office buildings in enroute to the truck stop Gerty slowed down to take a look. She noticed a few cars still in the lot and a door to one of the buildings was wide open. A bloody handprint led from the middle of the door to the ground and caught between the door and its frame was a body; a swollen, twisted, mangled mess of a body. There were a few other buildings that looked vacant but would need a much closer inspection before consideration. And time was an unfriendly neighbor with nowhere to be but at your throat.
Jon-Jon slowed to a crawl, peering out the window and surveying the truck stop. There were several cars he hadn't noticed when they initially passed it. Upon closer inspection, inside the attached eatery, staring back, were another group of survivors. Stealing the spotlight for a moment was yet another group of people, separate from the group of people in the eatery, coming from out of the small store, the Quick Stop, located toward the rea
r of the pumps. This new group consisted o three men, all of which were running toward a car parked just outside the store's door. They were carrying out what looked like beef jerky, chips, handfuls of other fine eatery, a few maps, and cartons of cigarettes. It all dropped to the ground as they noticed Jon-Jon's van and the band of vehicles behind him approaching. Two out of the three guys pulled out handguns from their waists. The third jumped into the car with his findings wrapped tightly in his hands. Jon-Jon opened the door to his van very slowly and stepped out cautiously. He raised his hands, standing next to his van. Boone did the same, only he had his gun drawn, Frankie did the same. Ben and Shorty pulled out their guns and joined the party. Ben's eyes turned to narrow slits as he examined the three men.
"We're not looking for trouble fellas," Jon-Jon spoke loud and clear to the three men facing him.
"Neither are we," said the guy who jumped into the car.
"Why don't we all lower our guns then, and have a chat," said Jon-Jon. "Where you guys headed to?"
"Headed to Briggstown, you?" The guy in the car said.
"We were headed toward Titan City, but there's a shit-load of dead fuckers down the road between us and the road we need to be on," Jon-Jon explained.
"You could just drive right through them things," said the tall guy who drew his gun first.
"When I say a shit-load, I mean a fucking shit-load, maybe even a few thousand," Jon-Jon put it poetically.
"No shit?" The tall man asked.
"No shit, man, we were thinking we might be able to use this station to blast them to hell and continue on our merry fucking way," Jon-Jon continued. "This is the only road we can travel down, everything else if fucked unless we wanted to travel by foot."
"Yeah, man...it's a fucking mess out there, but if you want to blast a hole in them things, we're down. We sure as hell ain't going back the other way, we lost...we lost everyone two days ago, man," the tall man confided.
"Then we better get a move on, before they catch up," Boone finally contributed.
Boone directed everyone to drive past the truck stop, far enough for a big blast. Jon-Jon kept his van at the station so he and the others that were going to ignite the tanks could get away safely. They approached the folks at the eatery and they were more than happy to accompany the plan. They were just happy to see other people and be a part of something bigger than hiding at a truck stop---there was hope in numbers, even if hope died fast. They drove up to join the others, passed what they thought would be a safe distance. Eddie and Joseph hung outside the vehicles and kept an eye out for lurkers while they introduced themselves to the newcomers.
Boone, Jon-Jon, Ben, Shorty, Damian, Corey, who was the tall man, and Julio, the man who jumped into the car, stayed at the truck stop to figure out how they could blow it up. They came to the realization that either way they did it, it would be a messy, dangerous miracle. Not a single person in the group knew what to do. Their collective experience with explosives ended at fireworks and began at the movies. Excessive heat would blow the propane tank, that much was stated on the side of the tank by means of a set of warning stickers. They figured if they doused the stop with enough gasoline the place would ignite and eventually explode. Ben mentioned shooting at the propane tank from a distance and they all agreed that seemed to be the best approach.
"I can see them! They're coming!" Gerty screamed.
Jon-Jon and Boone looked at each other, exchanging an entire conversation with a gaze. They ran to the pumps and tried to pry the hoses free from their dispensing units. The effort was fruitless. Boone pulled out a small, but razor-sharp, fillet knife from his pocket and began cutting the hose. The hose cut easily enough and Boone continued to work through the rest of them. Jon-Jon and the rest of the guys ran over to the convoy where anyone with a gun was standing in the street facing the approaching flesh eaters. The gasoline flowed into the street creating a small river between the living and the living dead.
To Boone's surprise the hoses refused to release any more of their precious liquid and he ran over to the rest of them with his eyebrows arched in full disbelief. Ben met him halfway and explained.
"The dispenser units only hold so much gas, the rest has to be pumped from the tanks underground," Ben said.
"Shit," Boone replied.
"We're gonna have to hope blowing the propane tank does the trick and blows the main tanks below sky high," Ben yelled.
"Guess so," Boone said, then turned to the rest of the gang and yelled "everyone get back in your cars and start moving back. We're gonna blow the tank."
They listened. Ben, Damian, Boone, and Jon-Jon stayed behind. They used Jon-Jon's van to shield themselves from whatever would happen once they began shooting at the tank. They waited till the dead things staggered closer. Every second felt like a season and after ten minutes the dead things were upon the station. They took aim, counted to three, then fired. They didn't have time to shield their faces as a small tink sound turned into a furious blast leveling most of the truck stop and sending the four men onto the street with their legs in the air and the wind knocked out of their lungs. As they stumbled to their feet, the rest of the truck stop crumpled to the ground. The fire took to the gasoline and the streets began to burn as the flesh-eating creatures staggered closer.
Jon-Jon struggled to get to his van, a piece of shrapnel from the tank had grazed his leg, making it painful to walk. He pulled himself into the drivers seat as the rest of them wearily climbed inside the van.
The unscathed creatures were now mere feet from the van, the ones that walked into the fire melted with each step forward. Their eyes and lips burned off right away as did their clothing. They resembled charred mummies now instead of people. Jon-Jon whipped his van around and sped away toward the convoy. The convoy had slowed to a crawl and eventually stopped by the time Jon-Jon had caught up to it. Boone hopped out of the vehicle to see what the hold up was and as he did, he found out that he didn't need to ask. One of the cars from the eatery addition had crashed into Gerty's SUV and pinned her and the rest of her passengers between Scott and Judy's little trash can on wheels. The driver of the car was feasting on his passenger as two people in the backseat were trying to get out. Gerty and her passengers were trapped, as was Judy, and Scott lie slumped on the steering wheel with blood coming from his nose.
Boone stepped closer to the scene with his gun drawn. Ben and Damian stepped out of the van and covered the rear, making sure nothing crept up on them. Jon-Jon kept his ass in his seat, moving his eyes from rear view mirror to the view just outside the windshield. Boone was now to the side of the car that started the commotion. The two in the backseat had managed to get out of the car and Boone directed them to the van but they opted for the closest seat of an obliging driver. He took another step forward, his gun leading the way and put two shots in the passenger's head. Most of her throat was ripped out and dangling from the mouth of the man behind the wheel. He made eye contact with Boone and Boone held its gaze for a moment, wondering if anything human was behind its cold stare. Deciding that it didn't matter, he put two in his head as well. He walked over to Scott, who was now waking up with Judy screaming into his ear. He recognized Boone, despite how blurry he appeared, and gave him a thumb up. Scott moved his car to the side, allowing Gerty enough room to get the convoy rolling again. Damian had begun to squeeze off a few rounds as the things staggered closer and closer. The creatures had never looked more alike then now. Though the fire in the street had died down, they were the color of smoke, much of their bodies were burned and one could easily confuse them with skeletons. Ben took a few shots too. Headshots every time, he did it calmly and made it look easy. It was clear he knew his way around a weapon. A huge second blast rocked forth from the truck stop as the tanks below the surface finally ignited. The blast was blinding and scorched a large number of the dead creatures. The blast leveled many of the dead troopers and sent others flying into the air; their lifeless limbs flaking off their charred bodies. Once
the smoke cleared, more soldiers of the dead army stepped forward to replenish their ranks.
The flames in the rear view continued to burn bright and hot as Boone directed the convoy past the mess in the road. He contemplated getting into the bloodied vehicle and moving it but thought better of it when he saw not an inch of seat that wasn't covered in blood. The cars slowly maneuvered around the wreckage and made their way up the road. Dozens upon dozens of the stiff legged creatures hobbled onto the road from out of the woods. Big Cups had his arm hanging out the window when one of the creatures wrapped its crooked-toothed maw around it and bit down. Big Cups thrashed in his seat and screamed as the creature pulled a mouthful of flesh from his small arm. Another two creatures crept up to the window wanting a taste as well. His screams alerted everyone in earshot but they couldn't do much more than drive away. The road was soon full of the bloodthirsty creatures. Cups was dragged from the window as his car sped away, and Ricker, in the back seat with him, was too scared to do anything but whimper. He simply watched as Cups kicked and screamed and then finally disappeared.
Another car from the group at the eatery swerved into a ditch on the side of the road, trying to avoid several other lurkers that appeared from the side of the road. The dead things were clawing at their windows. The driver aimed her gun at one of them and fired a shot into its head, hitting her mark. Unfortunately, though, the bullet broke the window and the other dead things got inside before she could make another shot count.
The others attempted to flee but couldn't move past the dead weight of their attackers. They screamed for help and for God but neither showed up. They died slowly as dead mouths tore the skin from their bodies. Boone ran to Jon-Jon's van and jumped in as Frankie's truck swerved off the road and spun out of control. They sped up to them as Boone and Damian jumped out of the vehicle with guns drawn. Ben poked half his body out the window and fired his weapon several times, only half his shots hitting anything of worth. Frankie, Eddie and Joseph climbed out of the truck as Damian kicked one of the creatures back and down. He put his foot on the creature's throat and fired three shots into the dead things head. Boone shot one that was creeping up behind them and Frankie fired his shotgun and took down three more that were approaching the truck.