Just behind the teenaged girl was a morbidly obese man who looked older than Camille’s dad. His nose was missing; it was entirely removed from his face leaving a gaping hole with broken pieces of white cartilage. His face had been ravaged in an attack. His cheek was nearly torn free and the large flap of skin jiggled as he walked. His jaw opened and closed like clockwork as if waiting for a piece of flesh to sink his teeth into. His body was so immense that Camille wondered how he had found clothes that fit. His tie was in disarray and his button down shirt was stretched so tight that she thought the buttons would pop at any moment, exposing the rolls of flesh packed underneath.
He easily weighed four times as much as she did, so she kicked his rotund belly to push him backward. The kick caused him to stumble just the slightest bit before reaching for her again. She kicked his knee hoping that it would buckle and cause him to plummet to the ground. He tottered for a moment but still kept to his feet. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck’ ran through Camille’s mind as she looked for another way to knock him down before the two others from next door arrived and had her completely surrounded and overwhelmed. She was tempted to tackle the man but remembered her mom’s earlier admonishment that she could have landed with her arm in the zombie’s mouth.
She looked back at Lucia in the tree and pleaded for help with her eyes, but Lucia was frozen in place, digging into the tree so tightly with her hands that her fingertips were bleeding lightly.
With a burst of inspiration and desperation, Camille suddenly thrust her knife through the obese man’s stomach. She twisted and turned it then cut across to his side before pulling it back out. The result was almost like that of popping a water balloon. The man’s rancid entrails burst from his abdomen and hit the ground with a wet, thick slapping sound as bits of brackish blood and shiny lumps of fat followed. Camille held her breath at the putrid smell and watched as the loss of his guts caused the man to lose his balance and fall forward. Camille pounced on his head and quickly plunged her knife through his ear.
She had no time to rest as two more zombies from the neighbor’s house were within touching range. The wife was overweight but was nowhere near the kind of obese her husband had been. Camille grabbed the woman by her long, stringy hair and stabbed her knife into the woman’s eye. She knew she would never get used to the fetid milky fluid that followed as the eyeball burst.
A slight teenaged boy was all that remained of the family of four. His hands were nearly chewed off and he walked with a sloppy gait as he dragged one leg behind him. His small stature and unbalanced movement made him an easy kill as Camille drew her knife home.
The ever expanding crowd of zombies lined the street from one side to the other and started to move onto the edges of tree lawns and sidewalks as more of the dead joined their ranks. Camille hesitated a moment. Some of the zombies would see her and the others would follow, whether she went into the Wright’s house or if she climbed up the tree back into her own yard. There were so many zombies that she knew the sheer size of the horde would take out both the Wright’s house and her own if she ran for either of them. She thought of her mom and brother as well as the others inside the Wright’s house and desperately wished she were inside with them. She wanted nothing more than to be in the comfort of her mom’s loving arms. She instinctively knew that there was no way she could make it back to them safely. Not without bringing the horde with her. She looked at Lucia clinging to the tree frozen with fear. She looked past her in the direction her house sat, out of sight, and knew she couldn’t make it home either. She’d never felt so terrified in her life. She had to do whatever she could to keep the horde from being drawn toward her family. She knew that she might not survive, but she would make sure that her family did. As she felt the eyes of the lead element of the zombies upon her, she made the biggest decision she’d ever made in her young life.
Camille looked at Lucia with tears in her eyes as if to say goodbye, turned and ran away from both houses and into the street directly in front of the dead. She ran down the middle of the street as fast as her feet would carry her, trying to put a little bit of distance between her and the horde and hoping to lead them away from her family. Lucia sat horrified as her best friend was now being chased by a horde of zombies. She wanted to cry out and tell her to stop, but the words were lost in a sea of fear. That fear was also compounded by the guilt she felt knowing that this might be the last time she would ever see Camille and knowing that she could have helped her.
From inside the Wright’s house, Michelle and Anna had hurried toward the front window at the sound of the muffled scream. They arrived just in time to see Camille finish off the neighboring family of zombies. They watched, horrified as Camille looked back and forth between the two houses and the horde of the dead before she took off running.
Anna brought a hand up to her mouth and nearly slumped to the floor, but Michelle gently pulled her away from the window and into the shadows in the corner of the dark living room. Michelle hurried to look out the small window near eye level on the front door. Hundreds upon hundreds of zombies slowly lumbered down the street in the direction Camille had run. She looked to her left to see the top of Lucia’s head disappear as she lowered herself from the tree down into Anna’s front yard.
Michelle quietly nudged Anna in the living room and pointed toward the kitchen at the rear of the house. After hearing the muffled scream, at Michelle’s ‘don’t fuck with me’ insistence, Damon, Joey and Emily had stood silently by the island awaiting news from the two moms.
“There’s a fucking horde out there,” Michelle whispered. “Hundreds, maybe thousands of zombies are pouring down the street.”
Damon took one look at his mom’s white face and feared the worst. “Mom?” he prodded. “Where’s Camille? Lucia?”
Her voice wavering, Anna answered slowly. “There was a family of zombies in the house next door. They caught up to Camille before she could run and hide. She took out all four of them by herself,” Anna started as she fought off tears. “Then it was too late for her to hide. The front of the horde saw her, so she ran away from both houses and into the street. We watched her run down the middle of the street away from the horde. She was trying to save us,” Anna finished.
“She’s not dead, she’s running,” Michelle said as she listened to Anna’s tone and read Damon’s face. “She’s trying to lead the horde away. If they’d seen her go toward either house, we would all be dead right now.”
Joey and Damon both stared wide-eyed at the thought of a thousand zombies literally taking out both houses. “What about Lucia?” Joey demanded.
“I just saw the top of her head as she dropped from the tree into Anna’s yard. The dead were focused on Camille running. They didn’t see your sister,” Michelle answered. She hoped Lucia would stay on the ground where she had dropped, but the dead were making so much noise with the sounds of their feet hitting the road that they probably wouldn’t see or hear Lucia if she went back inside the house since it sat so far back from the road. Even though it drove her insane with worry, she knew that Lucia was likely to remain safe. However, Camille’s life was in certain jeopardy and there was nothing they could do to help her.
Anna was hunched over the counter berating herself. “Why the fuck couldn’t we leave well enough alone? We have plenty of supplies at my house. We got greedy and now Camille is out there running from a fucking horde of zombies!” Anna was quiet but her tone was lethal. Emily tried to reach her arm around Anna to comfort her, but Anna shook her off and fixed her with a glare.
Emily felt helpless. She wasn’t a parent so no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t understand the bond and the protective nature both moms felt for their children.
Joey and Damon paced silently but quickly, sheer willpower alone keeping them from running out the front door after their sisters. They knew Lucia was likely fine, but she was alone and terrified. As for Camille, they both knew they may never see her again, may never even know what happened to her, tha
t she would likely die scared and alone.
Chapter 35
Day 3
Max and the guys ran. During Junior’s struggle, several groups of zombies had joined together forming a larger group of several dozen. Smaller clusters of just five or six were scattered throughout the area. In some places just one or two shuffled along by themselves. Whenever any of the dead happened to run into each other, they joined up together.
Max wasn’t too concerned when he passed them by ones and twos, but the larger groups could easily surround and overwhelm them. They dodged the zombies as best as they could but were unable to run past them without killing a few along the way. Frank was incredibly lethal with his hammer and ax. Max, Vince and Junior didn’t have his brute strength and relied on both hammers and screwdrivers.
Running through the intersection toward the bridge, the zombies started to thin back out. As slow and clumsy as they were, getting just a few hundred feet ahead of them gave the guys a little bit of a cushion. Frank ran straight for the gas station parking lot, still determined to find a vehicle.
“We’re moving in one minute, Frank,” Max called to him. If they were able to find a vehicle that quickly, they would ride the rest of the way to Vince’s house. But they couldn’t spare more than a minute before the approaching dead would be too close for them to risk staying there.
Frank and Junior quickly checked cars while Max and Vince kept watch. The zombies were stumbling into the parking lot in twos and threes which were manageable but not ideal. Working together, they took out every single zombie as they approached.
Junior was opening car doors and looking for keys. As soon as he saw there were no keys, he quickly moved to the next and the next. After passing several cars filled with the dead, Frank eyed a black SUV at the last row of gas pumps. He ran over and found a dead man on the ground next to the SUV. The man’s teeth gnashed, and his head turned from one side to the other with his eyes following Frank, but the man had been so severely attacked by zombies that his back had been crushed in the process. Frank leaned down and grabbed a set of keys from the ground near the paralyzed man. As he yelled out to the others, he brought his heavy boot down and crushed the man’s skull. It was his way of saying “thank you for the car”.
Frank lumbered into the back seat and handed the keys to Vince. Max hopped into the passenger seat and Junior took his usual spot in back. As Vince hit the gas, the guys watched their surroundings.
“With any luck, we’ll be there in less than five,” Vince said as he cracked open a bottle of water. Max took a pull from his water and lit a cigarette. He was amazed at how second nature it had become to him again in such a short amount of time. Anna was definitely going to kill him.
Vince drove onto the bridge and weaved through the zombies fairly easily. There weren’t as many here as they’d dealt with near the intersection. Within seconds they were over the bridge and the road narrowed back down to two lanes. Five hundred feet down the road they made a left turn at a nearly empty, mini intersection. Max watched as three of the dead nearly fell over themselves as they tried to turn to follow the car.
Anticipation was building and tensions were running high as they got closer to Vince’s street. They felt like they were sitting in a pressure cooker. One moment things were going as well as they could be and the next they were in a fight for their lives. The constant pull back and forth and the adrenaline rushes were starting to fray their nerves.
Vince made what felt like a sudden left turn then he turned to the guys. “Just down there on the right. Look around for any dead. I don’t want them to follow us to the house,” Vince said. Their luck had held and there were no zombies near the end of the street.
“We’re home, boys,” Vince said with a devilish grin as he pulled into a driveway and up to a two car attached garage. The garage was attached to a modest three bedroom brick ranch.
Max, Frank and Junior exited the SUV and quietly pushed the doors closed then followed Vince to the front door. Key already in the lock, Vince pushed the door open and welcomed everyone inside. He closed and locked the door behind them then hurried to pull the living room blinds and curtains closed.
Max eyed the living room which was instantly recognizable as a bachelor pad. Two black leather couches and a lush black leather recliner were all pointed at a massive, big screen TV mounted on the wall. Below the TV sat a couple gaming systems with all of the bells and whistles. Modern chrome and glass tables held utilitarian lamps that went well with the décor.
“Hey Max, check all of the windows to make sure they’re locked, and the blinds are closed,” Vince said. “And make sure you can’t see any zombies.” He led Frank and Junior into the attached garage for tools that could be used as weapons. He also wanted to grab a case of beer from the fridge out there.
The small kitchen was minimalistic with its counter tops clear of clutter. A fancy coffee maker adorned the counter nearest to the sink. On the opposite wall there was a wine rack and a wine cooler. A cabinet to the right held high end liquor and a variety of glasses. Stainless steel appliances completed the look. Max checked the single window and saw no dead outside, so he secured the blinds covering it.
The master bedroom was light in color with black bedding and window coverings. The windows were already closed and covered, but Max checked them anyway to be sure there were no dead around.
A second bedroom held a nice desk set up and little else. Max closed the blinds and drapes and moved on.
The third bedroom had a treadmill and some weights. The two windows faced the street, so Max was quick to make sure they were secure. He saw a single zombie in the middle of the street, slowly shuffling about aimlessly. Max watched for a moment to make sure the zombie hadn’t heard them in the house and felt certain that his appearance was pure coincidence.
Just as he finished his loop at the bathroom, the guys were coming back in from the garage. They had two duffel bags, one of which was full of tools that might come in handy killing the dead. The other bag was empty as Vince headed for the gun safe in his bedroom closet. Junior carried a case of ice cold beer to the living room and sat down on one of the couches.
“Hell, it feels good to be indoors again,” Max said as pulled off his heavy gauge construction shirt and sat down on a leather couch. He lit a cigarette and accepted a beer from Junior.
“You’re telling me,” Junior said as he peeled off his heavy gloves and gear. The others did the same, but everyone kept their boots on and their gear close by in case they had to leave in a hurry.
Vince joined them and placed his gun bag on the floor in the living room. He’d added a couple changes of clothes but otherwise it held nothing but guns and ammo. It seemed best to keep everything in one place. They didn’t expect to stay here long enough to get settled in. Everyone had a beer in hand, and they talked for a few minutes.
“You’re all welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Vince started. He saw Max about to protest, so he held up his hand and continued. “We need some rest or we’re going to get sloppy out there. After everyone gets a few hours, we can make our way to Max’s house,” Vince finished.
“You got anything to eat in that fridge?” Frank asked. “I could use some real food.”
Vince grinned and said, “Give me a few,” before heading back to the kitchen. Within a few minutes the tantalizing scent of steaks cooking on an indoor electric grill wafted into the living room causing all of them to drool, at least internally.
Frank walked into the kitchen that smelled like a little slice of heaven. Vince nodded at the fridge as he cooked the steaks to a perfect medium rare. Frank pulled out all of the ingredients for a nice side salad and made quick work of putting it together.
Max and Junior headed for the kitchen; their growling stomachs unable to wait any longer. All four of them felt like they hadn’t had a real meal in weeks. Everyone grabbed a plate and settled in the living room. Out of habit, Vince turned on the TV as he sank down into his recline
r. The screen was blank. He flipped through a few more channels, each time landing on a blank screen or a message expressing technical difficulties.
“It’s just as well,” Junior said through a mouthful of steak. “I wouldn’t mind a little break from what we’ve been living.” The others murmured their agreement as they ate. A few minutes later, Vince collected empty plates and put them in the kitchen. He looked down at the mess with a little grin and thought about how he was never going to wash dishes again.
Appetites well sated, a light beer buzz for some, and adrenaline supplies exhausted, they were all ready to crash. They needed to get some rest before they made another attempt to get to Max’s house.
“I’ll take first watch,” Frank offered. “You guys get some sleep. I’ll wake one of you to take over in a couple hours.” The other three mumbled their thanks and Junior was asleep as soon as the word was out of his mouth.
Vince went to lay down in his own bed while the guys stayed in the living room. Vince was out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow. Unlike the others, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Max fell into a fitful sleep for the first time since Jesse died. His dreams echoed the horrors of his life over the last three days. He mumbled and cried out in his sleep, and Frank knew he was dreaming of Jesse’s death. He chose not to wake him because he knew that Max was running on fumes, but he felt guilty for leaving Max in the throes of his nightmares.
Junior’s head was full of nightmares, too. He was standing in the middle of an empty highway. The little boy from the car was standing in front of him and asking him “Why did you kill me?” over and over again. Junior’s body shook with tremors as he tried to explain himself to the young boy. None of the guys had any idea of what had happened when Junior tried to check on the lady in the accident. He had been unable to put it into words and was sure he didn’t want to talk about it, but his dreams developed into a twisted version of the event and pushed Junior to his subconscious limits.
Chronicles of the Undead | Book 1 | Urban Gridlock Page 25