“We’re going to have to try for the top of the boxcar,” Jesse said. “No way to know how many snapping jaws are still moving down there.” He was afraid they would land directly within the grasp of some of the dead that hadn’t succumbed to their second death during the fall.
“Nah man, we’re not going to be able to swing out far enough,” Max replied.
“I’m still going to try,” Jesse said.
They were about twenty feet from the ground when one of the dead glanced off of Max’s left shoulder as it fell from above. The surprise and the pain of the hit caused his grip to loosen as one of the backpacks was torn from his shoulder and hit the ground below with a loud thud. “Holy shit that hurt,” Max yelled. The zombie had torn the pack off of his shoulder but missed Jesse completely as it and the pack fell to the rusted out track below.
As the zombies continued their swan dives from above, Jesse decided not to swing for the boxcar. It would make him too large of a target for the falling bodies and he could easily be knocked off his rope. With only about ten feet to go, Jesse carefully checked the ground below him to find a safe spot to drop. The ground was littered with dozens zombies, but none of them had made it back to their feet. He watched as one of the dead struggled to stand, but her useless shattered legs kept dragging her back down. Settling on a space about one foot square he made his final descent. About a foot to his right, a zombie pulled itself toward him using only its arms. Its legs were turned around in twisted angles with stark white bones jutting out. Jessie put all of his weight into his steel toed boot and smashed its skull in.
He looked up to see Max about a dozen feet up the rope and told him to wait a minute. Jesse quickly cleared the few snapping jaws nearby then told Max to come down. Just as Max’s feet touched the ground another zombie landed less than a yard away from him. He unhooked his carabiner, rubbed his shoulder and said, “I need to get that backpack.” He motioned to the pack lying on the ground fifteen feet away.
“Just leave it bro,” Jesse pleaded. None of the dead were fully back onto their feet but the sheer number of them on the ground and those still falling from above made getting the pack a dangerous feat.
“I can’t man. We need those supplies and we definitely can’t afford to lose all of that water,” Max stated plainly. “I’m going for it.”
Max quickly realized that he had underestimated just how many of the dead were broken on the ground and on the rusted railroad tracks. Most of them were struggling to move about, many with shattered bones poking through their dead skin. Only a handful had made it back to their feet, but each one stumbled back to the ground unable to stand on broken feet and ankles. The dead felt no pain, but enough broken bones could hinder their ability to move around and stand up.
Some of the zombies were piled atop each other three or four deep. Even with broken backs and broken legs they tracked him with their eyes. Most of them uttered raspy moans and all of them tried to stretch their mouths or hands in Max’s direction. Every few seconds another dead body would fall from above, all of them missing Max entirely.
Max quietly and quickly dodged the reaching hands and snapping teeth of the dead. He felt pure terror when he felt a hand reach for his calf and enclose it in a strong vicelike grip. With its fingers wrapped around Max’s lower leg it inched itself forward propelling itself with its other arm digging in the dirt and gravel. He was shocked by the strength of the zombie as he tried to shake off the hand and its fingers didn’t budge. It slowly pulled its face closer to Max’s unmoving leg with its teeth clacking together as its jaw snapped at the air. Max’s steel toed boots and heavy work pants offered a degree of protection but not enough that he could risk those jaws clamping onto him. If even one tooth broke through the fabric he would be a dead man.
Aware that more of the dead could be slithering toward him from any given direction, he had to terminate the threat immediately. With his left leg firmly rooted in the zombie’s grip, he attempted to stomp its skull with his right. Blackish blood appeared under its newly broken nose. This time Max kicked it as hard as he could, and he heard the neck snap as its head was thrust unnaturally backward. He breathed a quick sigh of relief before realizing that the zombie’s hand was still locked on his calf. He was at an awkward angle to try to kick the hand, so he bent over with his hammer and smashed it atop the zombie’s hand. The wrist broke and a tiny dribble of black blood escaped but the hand wouldn’t release its grip. He brought the hammer down again and severed the hand from the wrist but not from his leg. He attempted to pry the fingers apart, but they remained clenched tightly around his leg.
Deeply disturbed and trying not to panic, Max resigned himself to the fact that a dead hand was going to stay attached to his leg for a minute or two as he carefully made his way through a few more of the dead to the backpack on the ground. He stomped on the jaw of a crawler and threw the pack over his shoulder. He carefully wove his way through the fallen zombies back to where Jesse was waiting.
A half dozen of the dead with smashed in skulls lay piled near Jesse’s feet. He’d been busy too. “Get this fucking thing off of me!” Max swore as soon as he reached Jesse. Jesse pulled a knife from his tool belt and literally cut off each finger in order to remove the hand from Max’s leg.
“You good?” asked Jesse. His face was white after cutting off the hand. Max nodded, blood slowly returning to his own face.
“Let’s skip these boxcars. One of these fucking divers could make a lucky landing,” Jesse suggested. “Next track over, thirty feet down. I’ll climb up, you hand me the packs then you climb up behind me.”
Jesse ran toward the boxcar, dropping his packs as he reached the end of it. Max trailed behind him by a yard or so. Just as Jesse readied himself to climb up the boxcar, one of the dead appeared from around the far side with its arms out reaching for him. The dead man was dressed in heavy duty work clothes and a hardhat. He looked as if he had worked on a construction site near the train. His heavy work gloves were nearly shredded and what remained of his hands were bloodied twisted nubs. With enough time and space to maneuver, crushing his skull with the hammer would have made it a quick and easy kill. But with the construction hat firmly seated on the zombie’s head, Jesse had to pull a screwdriver from his tool belt.
Max rushed forward to help but was met by another zombie, a man dressed almost identically as the first, all the way to the safety helmet atop his head. “Shit,” Max hissed as he reached for a screwdriver himself. With his left hand he swung the hammer at the creatures head, ripping its nose cleaning from its face. That action caused the dead man to stumble backward half a step giving Max the opening he needed to plunge the screwdriver in his right hand into its eye. A flick of his wrist and the dead man dropped to the ground for the last time.
A quick glance at Jesse told Max that he’d done relatively the same thing to the dead man who had accosted him. Max spun his head around like it was on a swivel and saw that the closest zombies were about five yards away.
“Go, go!” Max called to Jesse motioning for him to climb up.
Climbing to the top of the boxcar was relatively easy for a living person but was a feat that the dead certainly wouldn’t be able to manage. They were all knees and elbows and would stumble over themselves trying. Once Jesse was up top, Max shouldered up each of the backpacks to him then climbed up himself.
“Fucking Christ,” Jesse said as he sat for a moment to catch his breath. “Let’s hop cars and go down a little ways. I don’t think they can climb up here, but I wouldn’t mind putting a little distance here.”
“Agreed. I’d rather get out of their line of sight, so they don’t surround us. I don’t feel like listening to them scratching and moaning up close,” replied Max. They each hefted two bags and started across the top of the first car. “Easy enough jump from one to the next. Just toss the bags first.” Max’s shoulder was aching something fierce, but he didn’t want to stop until they got past at least a dozen boxcars.
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sp; Ten minutes and a dozen boxcars later, they stopped at a double stacked boxcar. “Let’s head up there. High ground and all. Then we can rest,” Jesse said. Max climbed up first then grabbed each of the four packs from Jesse before Jesse followed him up to the top.
Exhausted they both sat down heavily and downed a couple bottles of water. They hadn’t stopped since leaving the parking garage roof that morning. Adrenaline spent and dehydrated; they needed some real rest before making another move. Max’s shoulder was tweaked but not seriously injured. He dug into one of the packs for the first aid kits, cracked open a bottle of ibuprofen and downed four of them.
Jesse went through another of the backpacks digging around inside for food. Too tired to care what he ate, he pulled out a couple smashed bags of chips and some protein bars. Max accepted one of each as he finished his second bottle of water.
Chapter 16
Day 2
Their stomachs full, their thirst abated and both so tired they felt it deep down in their bones Max and Jesse decided to stay atop the double boxcar for a while. It was midafternoon and with the way each of their plans had played out so far, they were doubtful that they could make another significant move today. They definitely didn’t want to make any moves at night.
There were some zombies wandering and scattered about, but they were oblivious to the presence of Jesse and Max sitting up high and relatively out of sight. The dead weren’t thick down near the train and surrounding tracks. It was nothing compared to what they’d faced driving through downtown. But they weren’t sure that starting a new course of action with limited daylight remaining would be the best of plans. If they weren’t so exhausted maybe but they discussed the risk versus reward and had decided it would be best to stay put for a while. They needed a new plan anyway. They hadn’t planned beyond escaping the hundreds of dead on the road above. They had made it to the safety of the train, the first safety they’d found since leaving the roof of the parking garage.
Jesse searched his pockets then pulled out his phone. He waited expectantly as it powered on. He hadn’t heard from Michelle since this whole thing started. He needed to know that his wife and his kids were safe. The not knowing was driving his mind to a dark place full of what ifs.
His face lit up as he saw that he had two new messages. The first one was from Michelle, sent early that morning. It was fairly short and to the point, which is what he would have expected from her. Knowing that the love of his life was safe, and both of his children were okay brought a strong sense of calm over Jesse.
The second message was from Lucia. She told him in great detail about their initial escape which led to the night in the barn. Jesse laughed out loud when he read that while her brother Joey was still a douchebag, he had manned up from the moment things started and he had changed the tire on their disabled SUV. Lucia was scared but knew Mom had things handled and reluctantly admitted that her brother was actually not a total tool. Her message was rather long and detailed the plan to get to safety at Max and Anna’s house. Jesse was satisfied with their plan. It seemed to be the best option for their circumstances.
Max looked over at Jesse when he heard him laugh out loud. Max smiled knowing that Jesse must have finally gotten a message from Michelle. There hadn’t been any laughter since they saw the first of the dead. It felt good to hear his best friend laugh again.
“Michelle?” Max asked with his eyebrows raised.
“Nope,” laughed Jesse. “Lucia. According to her, Joey is a still a douchebag but not a total tool. He’s been helpful since things started.”
Max laughed aloud.
“The first message was from Michelle. They’re safe. They’ve got a pretty good plan to get to your house today. They may even be there already,” Jesse said.
“If the dead don’t discover the house, we should be safe there for a while at least,” Max said. “The fencing and the trees, the way we set them up I think we’ll be good.”
“That brick wall we built at the front should help a lot. It’s not visible from the street and it should be enough to discourage the dead. Especially if there are other things catching their attention,” Jesse agreed. “They seem to be easily distracted.”
“Anna said they’ve boarded and barred up pretty much everything. So long as there’s no horde or anything, I don’t think the dead are going to find the house.”
“Yeah and the way your wife shops, no one’s going hungry for a year or two,” Jesse laughed, busting Max’s balls.
“Hell, between my wife’s shopping and your wife’s cooking, everyone is going to be eating well,” Max said. “Just don’t tell Anna I said that.”
Jesse laughed. Both women could cook but Michelle was something else. The thought of their wives and their cooking distracted both men for a moment. They couldn’t wait to get home to them.
Max stretched his sore shoulder a bit as he leaned back against a backpack. The train they were on top of was a long one. He couldn’t count how many cars were in the distance without standing up. Even a dozen boxcars in, they were still at the far end of it. He looked up at the interstate in the distance and a thought occurred to him.
He abruptly stood up and let his eyes wander the length of the train. His sudden movement grabbed Jesse’s attention. “Max, everything okay?” He asked all business. Max nodded slowly as a smile appeared on his face.
“I think I figured out our next move,” Max started. “This train reaches past the interstate. We’ll have to go under two bridges first, but we may be able to climb to the onramp overpass from one of those boxcars.”
Jesse stood up to take a look for himself. “Well hell, I say we move down there now. No time like the present.”
Exhaustion forgotten, they both wanted to keep moving to get to their families. They lifted their packs, which had gotten a little bit lighter after they had downed several bottles of water. They each slung two packs over their shoulders and started moving.
It was pretty easy going hopping from one to the next except when they encountered the occasional double boxcar. Climbing down one then back up another broke their momentum and allowed fatigue to start easing in. But they both felt the adrenaline surge as the new plan started coming together. They came upon the first bridge within a few minutes. It was a fairly narrow bridge to nowhere. It appeared to be empty of the dead and they were out from under it in no time.
They were closing in on the second bridge which was far wider than the first. It rose above them about a hundred yards before the overpass. It encompassed at least five lanes of traffic as well as a bike path along one side and veered off to a small museum on the other side. Beneath the bridge on a parallel set of railroad tracks sat the last couple cars of another unmoving train. Between the width of the bridge overhead and the two trains sitting parallel to one another the darkness under the bridge was nearly complete.
Max and Jesse slowed their movements. They saw the dead shuffling around on the bridge above, but their numbers were much smaller than anywhere they had seen on the streets of downtown. The bridge was one of many routes that would leave the downtown area but would take them down to low ground in a heavily populated area with no clear route toward home. They were determined to reach the interstate instead.
The dead up above had no idea that Max and Jesse were there so there were no bodies raining down on them this time, but there were quite a few broken bodies on the ground below. Most of the dead had remained dead but there were a few crawlers. Here and there a partially broken body stumbled near the tracks but lacked the dexterity to climb up to the boxcars.
“Flashlights?” Max asked. They didn’t want to draw any of the dead on the ground toward them. Elevated and seemingly out of reach as they were, it still seemed like a bad idea to draw any attention to themselves.
“I’d rather draw a few of the dead then risk slipping in the dark,” Jesse answered. “Fall and break a bone and we’re fucked. Or fall near one of the dead and we’re doubly fucked.”
&
nbsp; “I guess that settles that,” Max said digging through one of the bags for a flashlight. “Shit I don’t think we grabbed one.”
Jesse reached for his phone and turned on its flashlight. “I guess this is going to have to do,” he said as Max reached for his own.
They shined their lights into what was essentially a small tunnel. There were a few raspy moans on the ground below but otherwise the tunnel was quiet. Max spotted some kind of movement on top of the train sitting parallel to them. They both stopped and listened carefully but heard nothing.
“There’s no way the dead could have climbed on top of one of these trains,” Jesse breathed.
“Maybe one fell from the bridge,” Max replied, his voice barely a whisper. “It couldn’t have crossed to another car though.”
They slowly, noiselessly inched forward keeping a close eye on the top of the boxcars to their left. There was something up there, something that was out of place. They heard the slightest of movements coming from the far end of the first car to their left.
“Hey man,” a voice said quietly. “Do you mind with the flashlights? You’re blinding me here.”
Max and Jesse both froze for a moment as the voice continued.
“Sound echoes down here. I’ve been listening to you guys for the last five minutes while I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to make my presence known,” The man said. “Then I decided shit, you’re the first living people I’ve seen since yesterday. The flashlights?” he asked again.
They both lowered their phones enough to stop blinding the guy but kept them high enough to get a good look at him and the area around him.
Chronicles of the Undead | Book 1 | Urban Gridlock Page 12