Sawkill : Omnibus

by Fitzgerald, Matt

  Jessie sat on the couch for half an hour, letting the stress leave his body. Once he felt his heart rate and adrenaline levels were back to what he could call normal, he got up and went to his bag. He pulled out two Snickers and two bottles of water. He downed one bottle straight out and tore the wrapper off of a Snickers. As he ate and drank he surveyed the clothing and accessories section of the dealership. As he finished the second candy bar and second bottle of water he nodded to himself. He went into the bathroom, took a shit, washed up and came back into the showroom. He selected the articles he had noted as he ate.

  He had picked out the complete line of FXRG riding gear; the perforated leather jacket, a pair of boot cut Harley Davidson jeans, the leather over pants, the Gauntlet gloves, and the Gore-Tex ankle high riding boots. He completed the ensemble with a tee-shirt that read “If you can read this the bitch fell off” printed in large white block letters on the back, and a pair of boxer shorts sporting the famous orange and black logo. He stripped naked and redressed in his new gear only reusing his own socks and belt. He looked at himself in the full length mirror and laughed. He took a pair of four hundred dollar sunglasses from the display case and put them on.

  “Come with me if you want to live.” He said into the mirror and laughed again.

  Jessie carried the shades and the gloves over to the service desk and put them down next to his backpack. He turned to look at the rack of helmets, and decided on the Americana ultra-light full-face helmet immediately. He picked it up off the display and tried it on. It felt a bit loose, but it would work under the circumstances. He took off the helmet and put it with the other supplies. Now it was time for the big decision.

  At two in the afternoon, the garage door at the rear of the Harley Davidson shop rolled up on its automatic track as a great big engine roared to life in the darkness of the mechanic’s bay. Once the door was up, Jessie Brewster emerged from the darkness on a black on black Harley Davidson Night Rod Special. His pack on his back and the shotgun secured between the bike and the exhaust pipes. If there was anyone to witness the sight, they would fully expect to hear George Thorogood being playing from some loudspeaker. He maneuvered the bike smoothly out of the bay and around the building. He had been riding a bike of one kind or another all his life, but never expected to ride one this fucking beautiful. As he was shopping, he had been looking at the price tags and knew he was outfitted with a twenty five thousand dollar setup between the gear and the bike. He had found gas in the mechanic’s bay and felt good in the riding gear. It was as close to body armor has he was going to get. All it had to fend off was bites, not bullets.

  Jessie drove the bike slow and controlled through parking lots and over curbs and in the breakdown lane avoiding dead bodies and the lumbering undead as he went. He noticed there were less walkers here than in New Jersey, but time had passed and he was sure they moved on. The dead outnumbered the living and the food supply diminished. It took him half an hour to get to the mall, a drive that would usually take half that time, even in the worst weekend traffic. When he arrived his heart sank. The Auburn Mall was burned to the ground. The only part of the structure still standing was the parking garage.

  He tried to remember the timeline. It was twenty four hours ago when he called Mauri and the man answered and said: “She’s not here.”

  Was he at the Mall? If she was in the mall when it burned, how did the guy get her phone? Did he get her phone before the mall burned? Could the mall burn to the ground in less than twenty-four hours? When was the last time he actually spoke to her? Nine in the morning yesterday, he was sure of it.

  He needed to get the bike moving before the sound attracted too many of them and he was surrounded. He had only stopped for forty-five seconds and already he had to zig-zag and go the long way around to avoid a lumbering mob coming his way. He got out of the lot by going over the grass and jumping the low curb. He almost dumped the bike, but recovered and drove cautiously back towards Route 20. On the long drive from New Jersey he had thought about this scenario and what he would do if he could not find her at the mall. He never imagined the mall being burned down, but it created the question. Where would Mauri take the boys next?

  He had answered that question for himself fairly quickly and equally certainly. Home was too far, and daycare was even further. Considering the time of day everything went down, the geography, and the traffic patterns, he hoped Mauri had come to the same conclusion and was successful on her three mile trip.

  Jessie followed the route he thought Mauri would have taken, going slower than before, trying to scan the faces of the dead people both on the ground and walking to see if he recognized any of them as his family.

  Jessie knew the first mile of her journey would be the most important. It was that far from the mall to Route 20. Once across Route 20 it was open fields, and secondary roads, lots of options for safer navigation. Between here and there…he didn’t want to think about it. If he saw his wife or one of his little boys as one of these undead creatures he might lose his mind. If they were gone, what was left for him? A soon to be rotted world full of dead things and a lifetime of regret for not being home when his family needed him the most.

  Once across Route 20 it was clear sailing. No cars, no zombies. As he drove, he prepared himself for whatever horrific scene greeted him at the entrance to the shopping plaza. For the road to be this empty he knew something was blocking it. In the distance, Jessie heard gunfire, three distinct shots. No way to tell what direction they came from. When he arrived at the road block he saw that it was a giant yellow school bus. The bus was flipped on its side and there was a Shipper’s Pride delivery truck smashed and flipped a few feet up the grassy embankment. The two vehicles made a roadblock diagonally across the entrance to the shopping center and the road Jessie had just navigated. As he surveyed the area he knew he would be able to squeeze the bike to the right of the Shipper’s Pride truck and head up the hill to the plaza. That wreck was the best-case scenario for limiting traffic to the shops. You would have to go by foot or bike from any direction. Jessie would have never made it across Route 20 by car.

  As he came up the incline and into the main parking area he was shocked that there were only a hundred or so of the creatures mulling around the expansive parking lots. He made a quick left into the movie theater’s parking lot. He stopped in front of the pizza place where there was a break in the building, giving access to the alley that ran behind the stores for deliveries.

  There were four zombies within fifty yards of him. Jessie jumped off the bike, secured his pack, retrieved the shotgun and lifted the visor on his helmet. He looked around. The closest creature was 20 yards away now. The sound of the bike was drawing them in. Jessie leaned back over the bike and gave it throttle. It roared like a tyrannosaurus and the roar echoed all over the plaza. He kept revving and yelling and revving until the closest zombie was five feet away. He chambered a round in the shotgun and fired at what used to be the douche bag “barista” at the uppity café in the bookstore. The sound was deafening and coffee boy’s head disappeared in a pink mist. The body took two more lumbering steps with dark liquid sputtering from the open wound, then fell with a wet crunch. He revved the bike once more for good measure and ran for the alley between the buildings.

  As he ran, he looked over his shoulder at the things collectively heading toward the sound of the still rumbling Harley. Once behind the stores it became apparent why there were so few of the creatures up here. Down a steep decline below the plaza was Route 146. The hill Jessie was on top of was a natural barrier to the east and the Blackstone River bordered it on the westbound side. The road itself looked like a river of blood from Jessie’s point of view. There were bumper to bumper cars going in both directions that looked like they were grouted with dead bodies. As he stopped running and looked closer he could see lots of movement. Zombies were feasting on those who had not been turned, and those who had not been bitten yet were trying to get away. Behind him he heard a
crash and the motorcycle’s engine died.

  “They must have tipped it.” He said out loud.

  Once the engine was quiet he could hear a faint sloshing sound mixed in with the moaning coming from the highway. He realized it was the sound of a thousand zombies slurping the blood and flesh from the bones of the people dead or dying below. Then a single piercing scream cut the slurping sound.

  “Hey, help me! I’m up here.” The shrill female voice said.

  It came from the highway and Jessie realized why she had said ‘up here’ instead of ‘down here.’ The woman was standing on the top of a trailer truck. Jessie was too afraid to yell down to her. He didn’t want to make any noise and attract those things. Not knowing what else to do he waved.

  “Well, howdy to you to. Are you going to fucking help me?” She bellowed.

  Jessie put his index finger to his mouth in the universal “Shhhh” signal.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, you got some fuckin’ kids sleeping in the car?” She screamed.

  Jessie heard a scuffing sound behind him and ran backwards to hide between two dumpsters against the wall.

  “Oh sure you fucking coward you just go. I’ll just be sitting down here waiting to get sunburned to death.” She screamed with enough hatred to kill.

  Jessie stood motionless. First two, then five, then ten creatures came from behind the building and walked towards the fence.

  “Come on man can you at lease pitch me some goddamn water? Or a hockey stick?”

  There was a ten second pause.

  “You fucking coward ass pussy. You ain’t no nice guy!” She howled.

  “You are just another…”

  She stopped screeching when she saw the first creature come into her line of sight. It walked forward until its chest hit the top bar of the chain link fence. Then a second, third and fourth appeared.

  “Oh God.” She said in a sobbing voice. “Oh God.”

  She put her hands over her mouth to try and stifle the sobs, but she was already past that. Jessie stood motionless as her yelling and crying brought them across the alley to the fence. He counted thirty, all crashing into each other methodically walking forward towards the source of the sound. They were all plowing each other towards the fence and once there were enough of them a section of the fence creaked, buckled and finally gave way. The twenty creatures closest to the fence all fell off the ledge in a heap. The woman below screamed in horror. The remaining zombies continued towards the sound and went over the cliff like brain craving lemmings. As they fell Jessie could hear bones snapping and skulls smacking into whatever was down there. Eventually the parade slowed to a trickle, but the trailer truck woman kept right on screaming.

  Jessie was powerless to help her, but he sure appreciated the diversion she was creating. He looked at the time on his iPhone – it was already three twenty in the afternoon - took a deep breath, made a break from his hiding spot, and ran down the alley. As he looked over his shoulder he saw several of them in the alley, but they were all still heading towards the fence, preparing to base jump down to the highway.

  He got to the rear entrance and tugged on the handle. It was locked. He put his ear to the door and heard nothing inside. He knocked lightly. No response. He decided to continue down the alley and come around the far end of the complex in front of the steakhouse. He crept up the side of the building, staying low and quiet. He popped his head around the corner and was pleased to see that the majority of the creatures were still heading in the general direction of the bike and the alley. There were no walkers between Jessie and his intended destination. He sprinted to the store front and yanked on the door handle. It was locked. Without hesitation he took three steps to the right and smashed the lower pane of glass of the display window with the butt of his shotgun. It shattered on the first swing. He ducked into the opening, sprang to his feet and sprinted to the closest seating booth in the restaurant. He flung a display poster and a table full of imported tea out of his way and muscled the booth over to the door to seal the window he had broken. Once the booth was in place he flipped and jammed another one in behind it. Then he stood motionless in the dark restaurant. His helmet was still on, but he could smell the fresh coffee someone had made. He peered out the window scanning from left to right. His breaking and entering didn’t appear to redirect any of them away from the screaming highway woman. He let out a breath and turned around. A man was standing in the gloom with a large revolver pointed at Jessie’s chest.

  “Who the fuck are you? Mad Max?” The man asked.

  Jessie’s tensed. As clearly as he knew his own name he knew from seven short words that this was the man who answered Mauri’s phone. Before he realized what he was doing Jessie brought the shotgun in his hands up one hand on the stock, the other on the barrel. It struck the man’s wrists and drove the gun towards the ceiling. The man fired the gun. The bullet ricocheted off the thick motorcycle helmet just above Jessie’s right eye and lodged in the ceiling. Jessie flew backwards from the impact and landed hard on his ass. His neck snapped forward and he bit down hard on his tongue. He looked up to see the man leveling his gun for a second shot. He didn’t have time to get the barrel of the gun around so he threw the shotgun at the man. It hit him in the forearms hard and he dropped the revolver. Jessie scrambled for the shotgun, but the man picked it up, racked the slide and aimed it as Jessie chest.

  “Guns are for shootin’, not throwin’ boy.”

  Jessie held his breath and waited to die.

  A shot rang out and the left side of the man’s neck was gone. A second shot and his forehead exploded out and sprayed Jessie with bone, blood and brains. The body fell forward and landed on Jessie. Blood continued to spray and more pulp leaked from the man’s head when he landed. Jessie quickly rolled the large man off him and scrambled to his feet. As he stood up a woman was pointing the ridiculously large revolver at him. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the gun.

  He immediately put his hands way out to the sides, fingers splayed. He started to slowly reach for his helmet.

  “Don’t move.” The woman said in a whispering voice.

  Jessie showed her his palms then pointed to his helmet. The woman thought about it for a moment and then nodded. The gun was still shaking badly in her hand. He slowly removed the helmet and brought it down to chest level in front of him.

  “Hello Mauri.” Jessie said.

  Chapter 10 - Mauri – Thirty One Hours Ago

  “I love you.” Mauri said.

  “I know you do. I’m sorry I wasn’t home for all this. Stay put and stay safe. Have a place to fall back to, like an office or a bathroom, someplace that locks if you can find it. If it gets bad hide yourself and the boys. Don’t try to leave the store. It’s only going to get worse outside. I know it’s shitty, but additional people means less food and water for you.” Jessie said.

  “I understand. We will be waiting for you.”

  “Alright, it’s five past nine, call me back in four hours – one PM. Do you have a charger?”

  “No.” She replied.

  “Then turn your phone off as soon as we hang up, don’t turn it back on until you are going to call me.”

  “Alright baby, please be careful.”

  “I love you and I’ll see you soon.” He said and hung up the phone.

  Mauri clicked off the display and powered down her phone. She dug into her purse, found her watch and put it on. She took a slow look around and assessed her situation.

  She had already witnessed a man take a metal rake to the head, and now there were zombies roaming the bottom floor of the mall because they didn’t get the doors shut in time. They had made their retreat to the second floor and locked it down as best they could.

  Now she was in a room made up to look like your average living room, except it was filled with state of the art home theater equipment. The room was used to demonstrate the latest technology in home entertainment. Currently a DVD of Tom & Jerry was playing on the fift
y five inch HD television. Her sons, Michael – age four and Shawn – age two were in little cartoon comas surrounded by empty cracker wrappers and two empty cans of Lemonade. The door to the home theater area was closed because the other adults were all watching news on the dozens of televisions in the main display area. Each one seemed to have a different channel endlessly rerunning the same sound bites and video clips. Mauri didn’t want the boys to see any of that. She rooted around the various displays until she had five DVDs in her hands. The Tom & Jerry one went in first at Michael’s request. She had a genie, a lion, a red race car and a boy wizard all in reserve.

  She walked over to the door and pulled the blind to one side. All six of them – three women and three men - were all still glued to the wall of televisions. Kenny, at twenty one, was the youngest of the group, but he had the most input. It was his idea to kill the elevators and block the escalators. It was also his idea to sweep the upstairs for anyone they didn’t know was there. His last good idea gave Mauri a glimpse into the dynamic of their little band of survivors.