Dead End: Escape

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Dead End: Escape Page 9

by Menard, David


  “It was Burt’s house that I ran into. He almost shot me because he thought I was one of them. I screamed and pleaded for my life. He then realized I was normal. He took me inside and locked the door this time. We held up in his house for a few hours when he thought it would be best to leave. Burt used to be in the army or whatever so he had plenty of guns and weapons in his house. We made a run for it towards the hospital. We thought we might find other survivors and doctors who could cure the lunatics out there. We were wrong needless to say and ended up surrounded.” she took a deep breath and brushed her hair behind her ear.

  “That’s where we met Marcy. She and Burt have been friends for years. She had fought off dozens of dead before we got there. She had locked herself off from infected parts of the hospital, keeping her safe. We were as good as dead when she heard us. Marcy left the safety of her room to save us. She was killing them off with sharpened metal bars she fashioned from gurneys. It was so badass!” She explained with great detail. She admired both of her rescuers despite the short lived relationship. Her respect for them distracted her from the trauma that she was trying to shrug off. Her boyfriend’s death was haunting her, it was clear as day. She masked her pain with a facade of a cold killer.

  “You are right, clearly not exciting at all,” Anthony said with a smirk. Kelly broke character and smiled back. They laughed quietly together. I am laughing? At the end of the world I am laughing. I must be losing my fucking mind.

  Meanwhile Marcy and Burt held their own conversation in the front of the truck. Burt looked into the rearview mirror, watching Kelly talk with the newcomer. He then turned to Marcy. “What do you think of him? You think he will just slow us down?” he asked her with his growly voice.

  “I think he is a good boy. I think he will help us out a lot, you saw him when he emerged from the sewer, he was ready to fight. Even if he was a liability we would still take him, we survivors have to stick together,” She replied looking in the rearview mirror. He reminded Marcy of her son; whom she would never see again. Marcy’s son did not die from the onslaught of the dead, he died from a hit and run; drunk driver.

  “True, he looks like he has plenty of fight in him. But we still have to see if he is bitten or not. Kelly was right, we can’t take any chances,” Burt said maneuvering around a couple of crashed cars. The truck wasn’t going to get them too much further, soon they would get to the main roads where vehicles would block off all routes. They would need to resume on foot at that point.

  “We will look him over once we find a place to spend the night,” Marcy said staring off in the distance. She had to kill too many of her friends, what remained of them that is. She recounted the events previous day.

  ….

  Marcy was checking in on room 112 when she was first attacked. She opened the door and was tackled by a young man, his jaw clicking over her face. She heard more screams as she fought off the patient. He would not relent, she would not be able to hold him off any longer. Marcy tried to slide away from her attacker, but was nearly bitten on her stomach as she tried. She made her predicament worse, she would not be able to hold him off much longer. The patient was within inches of her stomach when Dr. Matthews slammed a stool against the attacker’s skull, killing him on impact. He grabbed Marcy and the sprinted towards the double doors.

  “Marcy! We need to close ourselves off from the rest of the hospital! People are going mad!” Dr. Matthews exclaimed as he slid his badge and opened the door; when opened he ripped out the wiring, sealing the door. Marcy peered through the windows as the the patients gruesomely mauled the staff.

  “What happened? Why are people doing this?” Marcy asked, terrified. Everything happened so quickly, one minute she was chatting with the other nurses and the next she was fending off an attacker. “We need to save the rest of the staff!” she added looking to her savior. Dr. Matthews broke a glass case containing an axe and looked back to Marcy. She quickly surveyed her surroundings and approached a dismantled gurney. Marcy fabricated a spear from the broken gurney that was tagged out for repair. She looked back to Dr. Matthews, “Are you ready to go back and save the rest of our friends?”

  “No! We need to keep ourselves alive! They are all dead and if they aren’t, they soon will be. Marcy, it is just you and me now. Let’s move now!” Dr. Matthews cowardly stated looking at his colleague. “Marcy you coming with me or not?” Dr. Matthews asked as he walked towards the nearest set of double doors. Marcy stood still, defiantly. The respect she once held for him had faded. She worked with Dr. Matthews for six years and he was nothing but pleasant to everyone. Disaster had shown his true colors.

  Dr. Matthews abandoned her like the others, he stepped through the doors and again ripped out the wiring. She only had one way out, back from whence she came. His screams of terror echoed as he was ripped apart when he sealed her off in the Oncology wing. He locked himself in with dozens of undead, karma came for him, the small pane of glass in the door was now red. Marcy assessed her situation and searched for survivors in the patient rooms. Unfortunately, the dead had overrun the area. A nurse stationed in the area was attacked by a cat on her way into work, a small bite on her finger. That interaction led to the gruesome end for the patients inhabiting the Oncology wing. After dispatching the undead in her area she heard the cries of Kelly and the gunfire that followed.

  Marcy bolted through the doors, back into the bloodbath that she narrowly escaped. She saw a teenage girl, frozen with fear, shooting her firearm wildly. She would have certainly died had it not been for the elderly man with her. He was delivering headshots to the surrounding creatures as the girl tried to collect her bearings. Marcy recognized the old man, it was Burt, a close friend of hers. She approached the survivors, stabbing the undead through the head as she made her way towards them.

  “Burt! Start clearing a path back to the door!” Marcy exclaimed as she joined the odd couple’s ranks. She grabbed the gun from the girl and started shooting the monsters encompassing them.

  “Marcy? Son of a bitch! You are still alive!” Burt replied as he followed Marcy’s instructions. The trio made their escape within a few minutes and sprinted away from the hospital.

  The survivors ran to the closest shelter they could find, a nail salon. The salon was small in size and had yet to be barricaded. Burt led the way to scout for any enemies. Kelly followed and Marcy covered their backs. They barricaded the door and sat down in the waiting area.

  “Kelly, you need to be strong! We would have died out there, you need to keep your composure!” Burt berated the teenager as she looked straight down at the floor. He set his gun down on the counter and exhaled.

  “Burt! Don’t yell at the poor girl! She is not trained to defend herself, especially from this madness!” Marcy stated firmly, shooting daggers at Burt. “Glad to see you are alive, Idiot!” she added smiling. Marcy walked over towards Kelly, crouched and consoled the girl. “You did great out there. Honestly, who would expect you to have the skills to defend yourself from such atrocities?” She stood up, her right knee started cramping, and placed her hand on Kelly’s back. “Give those creatures no mercy. We protect each other and everyone else we come across. If they are attacking us, killing them is self defense. You are no murderer,” Mary added making eye contact with Kelly, whom now was looking up.

  “You are right, I already lost someone close, and I won’t lose the two of you. I will be better,” Kelly said surging with emotions and confidence.

  The three survivors spent the night in the nail salon. Chancing their lives in the dark was not a choice. Marcy laid out some aprons on the floor for them to sleep on while Kelly practiced her aim against imaginary creatures. Burt was sleeping in a rolling chair at the front counter, the last full nights sleep he would have for a while.

  ….

  “He better keep his hands to himself, he better not try any funny business” Burt scowled. He and Kelly had developed a bond in their journey together. He felt like her father in their short ti
me together. He never had a family after the war, he preferred it that way. Now with the end of humanity upon them, he reevaluated his life choices.

  After an hour of driving well below the speed limit they were forced to stop the truck. The roads were cluttered with cars from people who tried to escape the pandemonium. A turned over car further up the road created the traffic jam. Burt stepped out with his gun ready and surveyed the surrounding area as did Marcy. When they both felt the area was safe, they walked to the back where Anthony and Kelly were sitting. Burt spoke to the both of them in his raspy voice. “We can’t drive any further, the roads are blocked off. Looks as if we are walking.” He added.

  Kelly grabbed her small backpack which held extra ammunition and some spare clothes. Anthony picked up his bag and hopped over the truck into the bloodstained street. Burt looked at Anthony with a distrustful look just as Kelly began to speak. “Where will we spend the night? It will be dark soon,” she said looking at her watch.

  “There is a small garage up the street, we can hold up there,” Marcy said as she walked over. She had her gun rested on her shoulder like a soldier. “Are you guys ready?” She added, as she continued up the street. Burt motioned Anthony and Kelly forward and he took up the rear to make sure nothing could sneak up on them.

  They kept silence throughout the walk, mainly to avoid attracting any attention from the monsters. To the survivor’s surprise they encountered no undead on their way to the garage. They still kept their guards up, because the undead were very sneaky. A half mile walk brought them to the door of the garage.

  It was kept in good shape; it was refinished months before the apocalypse. The only blemish on the building in front of them was the wide open door and smashed windows. Burt stepped into the garage slowly, withdrawing a hunting knife. Anthony followed with his two pistols in hand. Burt was astute but even he didn’t notice the shop owner peering at them through the office blinds. The owner was watching them intently, waiting for them to come closer.

  Kelly and Marcy followed and closed the door behind them and began to barricade it. Anthony stood lookout for them as Burt continued further into the vacant garage, crossing into the shop area. A car was held suspended on pneumatic jacks, another on the ground with its hood propped open. Each step he took echoed loudly in the completely silent room. He didn’t like how quiet it was, there was a negative feel in the atmosphere. He spotted a small staircase that led up to the foreman’s office. The stairs were completely metal and poorly painted yellow. He walked as slow as he could to prevent the stairs from echoing too loud, the last thing he wanted to do was to attract the army of flesh eaters. He reached the top step and turned the knob that led into the office.

  Kelly finished the barricade by putting a bench against the door. She looked to Marcy and gave a satisfied nod. Marcy then proceeded to make out sleeping arrangements. As she did this, Anthony approached Kelly. “Why does he have a problem with me?” he asked Kelly quietly making sure Marcy didn’t hear. Kelly laughed a little to herself and walked towards the vending machine.

  “He doesn’t know you, how can you trust someone you just met? He and I have history at least. Not much, but some. He saved my life and I have had his back since,” she replied looking at the display through the glass. “With everything that has gone down can you blame him?” she added.

  Anthony knew this was true, but that didn’t stop him from asking the his next question. “Do you trust me?” he asked looking at her. He was leaning slightly on the machine as she crouched down to try and steal some food.

  She looked up and smiled at Anthony. She knew he was looking for a friend in this dead world, any comradery made things easier. She stopped trying to reach her arm into the machine and stood up, crossing her arms. She looked at him and replied “As long as you are not one of those things, I trust you,”

  Marcy finished preparing sleeping area. It wasn’t anything special; it was just some spare clothes they had thrown on the ground and a fire proof blanket she found on the counter. It would offer minimum comfort, but it was better than sleeping directly on the floor. The sound of glass smashing annihilated the silence they were in.

  Burt didn’t see him from behind the door. He had walked in with his knife held in front of him when he felt the teeth sink into his hand. The assailant grappled Burt and pushed him back, forcing his elbow through the window adjacent to the door. Burt wrestled the foreman and fell onto a desk in the process. Within seconds the undead shop owner was on top of him. Burt was fighting to keep the monster away from his throat. He pushed under the dead manager’s chin, lifting its head. As he did this a bullet found its place through the back of the owner’s head and came out between its eyes covering Burt in blood and brain fragments. Burt looked up and saw Anthony with his gun drawn, he them angrily pushed the body off him.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Firing that gun will attract more” he hissed as he leaned back against a locker and took out a handkerchief. He started tying it around his wrist as he looked at Anthony. Marcy and Kelly appeared behind Burt’s savior.

  “I was saving you from that creature,” Anthony said matter of factly. Seriously? I just saved your life. Fucking asshole. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He was going to set the old man right. Before he could speak his mind Kelly rushed over to Burt.

  “Burt are you okay?” she asked tears forming. She had seen the bite on his hand and knew he was soon to die. Burt was her best friend in this apocalypse, a father to her and she could not lose him. He was the first person she met after Tommy died.

  “I will be, just step back,” he replied taking his knife in his other hand. Burt shifted his position, getting more comfortable. Kelly stepped back as told and looked at Marcy and Anthony. “Hey Marce, could you get the first aid kit, we are going to need it,” Burt instructed. He grinned at the trio, turned his attention to his hand and brought the knife down onto his infected hand.

  Chapter 12: Small Talk

  Marie passed only a couple of days ago but John and Gabe were already starting to cope. Gabe spent most of his time with Melody. They both had fallen for each other. They spent most of their time talking and playing basketball. A few times Cindy saw Gabe laugh, and saw that he was smiling with Melody around. John had resorted to shooting zombies off from the roof using his hunting rifle.

  Cindy passed the time with John, being a third wheel with teenagers was very unappealing. She cooked the food Marie had bought, expanding her cooking repertoire. Tonight they were grilling swordfish. They played cards on the roof after John shot his “quota” of zombies; he wanted to conserve ammo for when they would try to leave town. Cindy always beat John at gin rummy, her mom taught her to play when she was younger. John was proficient in poker, making him the winner the majority of the time when they played.

  “Hey John, is the fish done? I can’t tell,” Cindy asked John as she inspected their dinner. He got up from their card table and jogged over to look. He flipped the fish, and then placed it on a plate. Her culinary skills consisted of reading directions and the utilization of a microwave.

  “I would say so, come on let’s go eat with the kids,” John said with a small smile. He gazed towards the sky, thinking of his wife. They lived a good life together, she left him too soon. He took solace in the plentiful memories they shared. He fought back the urge to cry and followed Cindy down the hatch.

  John and Cindy came back at the worst possible time in Gabe’s opinion. He had just begun kissing Melody, their first kiss. He wanted it to last longer but instead it was interrupted by Cindy and John bringing dinner. John and Cindy did not say anything, but they both smiled to each other and started to serve food. They enjoyed their meal in silence until Cindy broke it.

  “We have just one more day of food left, I think we have to plan our escape,” Cindy said solemnly. She saw that it was not a popular choice of topic. They all knew this was inevitable but they wanted to live in ignorance. Gabe looked at Cindy and appeared to be thinkin
g of what to say, then spoke up.

  “What is this plan? I know we can’t stay here, but where will we go?” Gabe asked hoping Cindy had a magical solution. He set his plate down and wrapped his arm around Melody. She looked to him dotingly, then turned to Cindy.

  “Should we hold up in another store?” Melody asked trying to think of what to do. She knew the answer to her question was no. She understood that they had to find a permanent solution, and not just another temporary place to stay.

  “No, I think we should try to go to the next town over maybe the infection hasn’t spread, I doubt it but it’s worth a try,” Cindy replied knowing that this solution would likely get them all killed, however staying would yield the same result. She stood and walked to John’s counter, grabbing a pen and paper. “Let’s take an inventory check to see what we have for weapons and ammo” she added as she walked over to the gun rack.

  Melody and Gabe approached the display case to count the machetes and hunting knives. John went into his back room to count the ammo he had for his guns. The final tally was ten hunting rifles, fifteen pump action shotguns and twenty three semi automatic handguns. There was enough ammo for each to kill an army, which is exactly what they needed. Cindy figured each person would get 2 handguns and a choice of a rifle or shotgun.

  “I think we all need some target practice, we should go on the roof and practice with the rifles, that way we kill them and learn how to use these weapons,” Cindy instructed them. She led them to the roof for practice. John and Gabe were no strangers when it came to handling guns but Cindy and Melody were novices and had to learn if they expected to survive.

  The night came suddenly, ending their practice. The amount of undead in the plaza was staggering. In the distance they stumbled into the plaza, following the gunshots. A double edged sword. Gabe and Melody were the first to go inside while Cindy and John packed up the weapons. John had wanted them to leave so he could talk to Cindy.

 

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