Colin had been in the water for about twenty minutes when he suddenly stopped swimming and began to tread water.
He held his breath and listened, barely cutting the water with his movements. Silence. Normally, that would have been a good sign, but the fact that the crickets had stopped chirping bothered him.
Colin was just about to swim to shore when he saw them.
Dozens of the undead. They were walking towards the lake.
He froze, unsure of what to do. Could they swim? Were they afraid of water?
He knew he needed to hide. If he didn’t, he would never be able to stay in his newfound safe haven. They would just follow him around the lake preventing him from reaching land.
The creatures’ moans reverberated across the water. Had they seen him? He dove under and swam far below the surface, relying on his sense of direction to find concealment. There was one location in particular that he had noticed earlier when he first came across the house.
His fingertips brushed against slimy, gnarled wood just as he was starting to run out of oxygen. The cypress roots of the tall trees surrounding the lake would provide the perfect hiding place.
He blindly felt his way along the roots until he was able to find an opening between them that was big enough to allow him to slip through. He winced as the skin of his broad shoulders scraped across the twisted edges.
Colin’s lungs burned, but he needed to make sure that he was completely out of sight. Once he was satisfied that he was hidden from the zombies’ view, he broke the surface silently.
Even in the darkness, Colin could clearly make out his surroundings. The cypress roots rose above the water, hiding his face like thick bars on a cage. The rest of his body remained underwater, his legs tucked beneath him in the mud.
He strained to hear the tell-tale moans of the undead, his eyes scanning the shore for their presence.
Sure enough, several of the ghouls shambled about in the sand, a few of them wandering around the house and along the dock.
They knew food was nearby, but since he was concealed in the water, they couldn’t smell him. A couple of them had stumbled into the house through the window, enticed by the strong odor of his clothes. They were clearly confused as to why they hadn’t found a human to accompany the smelly clothing.
Colin heard footsteps near his head.
Just along the shoreline, one of the zombies had drifted from the pack and now swayed back and forth less than a foot away from his hiding place.
He was certain that if one detected him, they would all come.
The zombie made a wheezing gurgle. It groaned in desperation, its decrepit form stiff with the need to feast on human flesh. It stumbled around, tossing dirt, leaves, and tiny pebbles into the water with its sluggish feet.
Colin could see its reflection in the water before him. He shuddered involuntarily as he took in the zombie’s revolting features. Dressed in a tie and bloody white shirt, the creature stared at the lake with intense curiosity. Dark blue circles surrounded pale eyes. One eye had enlarged to the point that it bulged out of the socket unnaturally, making it larger than the other eye. Strips of flesh had been pulled back from its forehead and cheeks and hung in flaps along its face. Broken teeth and crimson gums stood out starkly against the grayish skin.
He was focused on the creature when he felt something slide along his leg. His blood ran cold when he realized it was most likely a snake. He shut his eyes and hoped it wouldn’t bite him. He knew that if it did, his location would instantly be revealed to the undead. He was a tough guy, but if a snake plunged its fangs into him, he wouldn’t be able to keep it together.
He felt the animal slither against his legs and prepared himself for the bite. A few small fish periodically nibbled at his skin, but to his tremendous relief, no fangs dripping with poison ever punctured him.
After nearly ten painstakingly long minutes of moaning, sniffing, and shuffling, the zombie headed back towards the house. Colin watched it clumsily walk away and relaxed a little.
An hour later, the shoreline was clear.
Chapter 16:
Haven wasn’t going to let them stop her from rescuing her brother. They were slow. Surely she could use the five rounds left in the gun and rush past them to his dorm room.
She was certain he was alive. He had to be...
The zombies were moving towards her in their troubling, warped gait. She aimed the .38 at the closest one and pulled the trigger. The crack of the gun echoed noisily in the hall. The ghoul dressed in a football jacket and crusty jeans fell to the floor.
Another one, a once studious-looking professor type covered in oozing bite wounds, its head lolling limply to the side from a severe gash in its neck, quickly took its place, stepping over its fallen comrade.
Haven took aim again, and the professor collapsed.
Three more bullets left. If she used them all now, which she fully expected she would need to do since she was considerably outnumbered, she would have nothing left to use on their way out. She’d have to improvise.
She pointed the gun in the center of the group, only a couple of meters away. Three shots rang out, and two bodies fell, knocking over others as they descended.
Haven saw the clearing and sprinted towards it, but the mass was already regrouping and closing the gap as she hit them.
Mottled hands reached for her, grasping at her leather jacket. She twisted away from them, using her elbows to push them back. Their groans were deafening, and their smell made her want to vomit.
When she finally made it to the end of the group, she ran down the hall until she found room 408.
She pounded against the door desperately.
“Brett! Open up! It’s me!” she cried out, hitting the door as hard as she could with both fists. Haven watched as the zombies slowly turned towards her as a unit.
No answer.
“Brett!! Hurry! They’re coming!” she screamed.
He had to be alive... He had to be...
They were closing in on her faster than she thought possible, even with their missing limbs and grotesque injuries.
“Brett!” she screamed again.
A lock turned on the other side of the door. It swung open, nearly knocking Haven to the ground.
A tall, curly brown-haired young man stood there, a metal baseball bat in his hand, eyes wide. “Haven?”
Haven pushed past him and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it, panting. Loud thuds on the door commenced almost immediately thereafter.
“Thank God,” she breathed. “For a second there, I thought you weren’t going to open the door.”
Brett stepped forward and embraced his older sister in a big bear hug.
“I can’t believe it. You made it,” he said incredulously.
Haven hugged him tightly, her eyes watering. “Of course I did! You know me. Leave no man behind.”
“How did you get here? Where’s everyone? Why do you look so terrible?” he asked.
“I drove my car, and it—”
“Your car? That tiny, flimsy piece of plastic? That’s the car you chose to plow through the crazies??” He chuckled in disbelief.
Haven winced, remembering that she wouldn’t see her car ever again. “Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” She paused and stared at him in confusion. “And why are you still even here?”
Brett sighed and shook his head. “The whole campus has been overrun with those things. The hallways on my floor were blocked off so Phillip and I were going to try to climb down, but they were all over the place, flooding the yard. It wasn’t until some car alarm went off in the distance about a half hour ago that most of them dispersed.”
“So it worked,” she said to herself, a sad smile forming on her lips. It quickly disappeared when she noticed a prone figure lying on one of the beds. “Who is that?” she exclaimed, reaching for her gun. She’d forgotten that she didn’t have any ammo left.
He walked over to his desk and began
shifting it around.
“That’s my roommate, Phillip. We don’t have much time. They’ve been banging on this door for hours. They know we’re in here.”
“Hold on.” She put one hand on his chest to stop him from moving past her. “Your friend, Phillip… he’s been bitten.” A dark stain spread out on the comforter where he lay.
“I know. It happened this morning before they all got into the building. He was in the shower room, filling up some thermoses with water so we would have something to drink in case the water got shut off.” Brett pushed the cheap desk in front of the door. He grabbed the mattress from his bed and angled it on the desk to provide an extra barrier between them and the zombies on the other side.
“He didn’t see the one in the last stall. It didn’t have any legs. It just crawled out from under the door and bit him on the calf.”
Haven shook her head at the imagery. “Oh, man.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead, realizing that what she had to say next wouldn’t be taken easily. “Look, Brett, I know you won’t like this, but we can’t bring him with us. He’s infected. If he turns while we are on the run, it puts us all at a risk that I’m not willing to take.”
Brett crossed his arms sternly and narrowed his eyes. “Look, Haven. I’m not leaving him here. Phillip is my best friend.” He gestured to the door. “Those things are going to break through that door within the next five minutes. He’s still alive, and he’s too weak to defend himself. They’ll eat him until there’s nothing left. I couldn’t live with the fact that I let that happen, that he had to spend his final moments alone while they ripped him apart. Haven, if he can’t come with us, I’m going to stay here and defend him as best I can.”
The door started to splinter. They both turned and stared, worry lining their features.
She pointed to the baseball bat. “Yeah? You going to defend him against all of those zombies with a bat? That sounds like an incredible idea.”
“Hey, you brought your cheap, hamster-powered rice burner. What a great rescue plan!”
“Alright, first of all, stop making fun of my car. I wrecked it trying to rescue you. Secondly, it’s not Japanese. Learn your cars if you’re going to start knocking them.” A powerful thud caused the room to shake. Haven sighed, capitulating. “Fine, get your friend, and let’s get out of here.”
She started walking around the room looking for something to use as a weapon. “I’m out of ammo. Lost it climbing a tree. Have anything that could work as a bludgeon?”
“Here’s a chair, Sis.” He tossed his desk chair to her then returned to his task of wrapping Phillip’s leg in a makeshift bandage torn from the sheets. He groaned in pain as Brett helped him to his feet.
“Wow, thanks,” she quipped, slamming her foot repeatedly onto one of the metal legs until it broke away from the plastic seat jaggedly.
“Come on, man. You can do it,” Brett encouraged, supporting Phillip’s weight on his shoulder.
The door cracked behind them, red light from the hallway eerily illuminating into the dark room.
“And that’s our cue to leave!” Haven opened the window and looked down. There was no way they would make the jump.
She swallowed hard. Her mouth felt as though it was full of cotton. The incessant pounding on the door made it difficult to concentrate and form a plan. She looked at the beds.
“Quick, grab the sheets! We can tie them together and make a rope.”
Brett leaned Phillip against the wall. He raced to the two beds and yanked off the cotton material. Within moments, they had tied the ends together with strong knots.
“Tie one end to the foot of the bed,” Haven told him. She grabbed the other end of the makeshift rope and tossed it out the window. It reached all the way to the second floor. They would still have a considerable jump, but it was a much shorter one when compared to the previous four-story leap.
“You go first. I’ll send Phillip down after you.”
She shook her head. “No way, you go down first. I can take care of them when they come through the door. I know how to deal with them now.”
Brett rolled his eyes. “Haven, I am not going to go down before you. I’m the guy. I’ll protect you. Now get on that rope before I throw you out.”
She crossed her arms resolutely, as most big sisters do when challenged by their younger siblings.
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of kicking zombie ass. You must have done alright to get here, and I know you’re not a wussy girl. It’s just that you’ve done your part. Let me help out a little, too,” he added softly.
Haven looked up at him one more time and couldn’t hide her worry. This was her little brother whom she adored. The little brother whose crib she used to climb into when he was still a baby. The little brother with whom she’d spent most of her childhood playing outside, creating fantastical alternate universes where they were either World War II soldiers or Hercules and Xena. The little brother whom she had protected when kids picked on him. But now that he had reached a certain age, he wanted to start taking care of her. She could see the determination to do so in his eyes.
Without saying another word, she gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Then she climbed out of the window and began to rappel herself down the wall until she reached the end of the rope, letting her feet dangle as far as possible before landing on the ground below.
She instantly drew her weapon, anxiously waiting for the others to join her.
“Okay, man. You’ve got to hold on to this. My sister is waiting for you down there,” Brett explained to his delirious roommate. Spittle rolled down his chin, his eyes half closed as his head flopped lazily from side to side.
Brett guided him to the window and helped him out.
Haven shook her head impatiently as she watched the injured young man climb onto the rope.
Brett, come on. Come on, she thought. We don’t have time for this. He’s as good as dead!
She tried to keep herself from yelling out to her brother and alerting others to their presence. They didn’t have the resources to find out what else was lurking about on campus.
Phillip slid down the rope instead of rappelling as Haven had done. When he reached the bottom of the last sheet, he tumbled wordlessly to the ground, crunchy leaves and earth cushioning his fall.
Haven helped him to his feet, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders to support his weight. His skin was covered in a thick, slimy layer of sweat, and he had already started to lose control of his bodily functions. Minutes before, he’d smelled of Doritos and pizza, but now he reeked of fecal material and urine. Haven held her breath and realized that such a sordid mix pretty much ruined Doritas and pizza for her for good.
Her head snapped up when she heard a crash above her.
Blood-chilling inhuman screeches boomed from the fourth floor. Red light flooded from the window. They had breached the door in its entirety.
“Brett!” she screamed, dropping Phillip to the ground as she clawed at the brick wall in an attempt to climb up to her brother.
“Brett!” she yelled again more frantically, tears filling her eyes as she looked for something to climb. She didn’t care if every zombie on the campus heard her.
“Hey! I’m coming! Keep it down!” Brett hissed as he scrambled down the rope to her.
She breathed a sigh of relief, wiping away her tears as she watched him descend.
Her body stiffened when she saw several shredded faces peer over the edge at him.
“Hurry! They’re right above you!”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious! I didn’t know until you pointed it out!” Brett exclaimed in frustration.
Haven’s eyes grew wide as she saw the first monster throw itself out of the window. It landed a few feet away from where she stood, a series of revolting crunches and pops following its fall. Completely unfazed, it struggled to get to its feet, still not realizing that the bones in its legs were badly broken.
She went
over to it as it reached out to her and raised the metal chair leg high into the air, plunging it into the zombie’s festering eye. Haven yanked the chair leg out of its head, grimacing when she saw eyelashes and bloody white pulp at the end of the weapon.
Brett was beside her a moment later, removing the bat from where it was tucked into his belt. He ran over to Phillip and pulled him to his feet.
“Okay, where are you parked?” Brett didn’t have a car. Rosemary couldn’t afford one for him, but always made sure that she and his sisters helped him move in and out of the dormitory every fall and summer.
“I told you, the car is totaled. We have to find another.”
“Crap. Are you serious?” He adjusted Phillip on his shoulders.
“Well, I wish I was joking, but we can either sit here and debate this or find another mode of transportation.” Haven reached forward and tugged on a lanyard around Phillip’s neck. “Like this,” she said triumphantly, dangling a mess of keys in front of him. “Where does he keep his car?”
Brett pointed to a nearby parking lot filled with vehicles.
Haven stepped to the side to miss another falling zombie. She glanced around them. Some of the undead were starting to appear from the cafeteria. “Let’s get going.”
She moved in front of Brett, chair leg raised and ready, and walked at a fast pace through the campus.
Brett struggled to keep his much larger friend upright. He grunted as his roommate slipped and fell. Haven turned and grabbed Phillip’s other arm so that he was between them. Bringing him along was a bad idea, but there was no point in arguing about it now. They had already attracted a good-sized zombie fan base.
“Which one is his?” she asked breathlessly, staring at the wide array of vehicles before them.
Brett chuckled in spite of the situation. “You can’t miss it. It’s the bright orange Camaro.”
She spotted it immediately and was grateful that finding Phillip’s car had been so easy.
Brett looked over his shoulder. “We’re gaining quite a tail here, dear Sis.”
The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing Page 18