by Zuko, Joseph
Jim knew that giving Devon a blood transfusion would lay him up for a few hours before he could try and race across town to his mother-in-law’s house.
If I do leave for my family how would I get Devon there? One job at a time he thought.
Job number one. Get back upstairs to Cliff and Tina’s.
Job number two. Save Devon.
Job number three. Get home. It was two jobs away before he had to worry about how he would get home with Devon in tow.
He slowed his ride down and crept along. Peeking through the buildings he could see the converging horde that had just finished off the young family in the SUV. The pack of monsters were moving towards the noise made by the slowly rotating tires and engine. The easy route up to Cliff and Tina’s place was cut off. Now the only way across was through the horde of zombies.
There were too many for Frank to take care of by himself. The grounds of the parking lot were wide open. There wasn’t a good place to force them to funnel through so they could easily pick them off without worry of being surrounded and attacked from behind. There was definitely no time to set something up like that. Devon could be on the brink and every second counted. Frank and Sara had come to the same conclusion as Jim and were ready for a fight.
“Let’s see if you can handle these,” Frank said as he readied an assault rifle for Jim. He forced the newly loaded magazine into the bottom of the gun.
“Each pull of the trigger will fire a round. Take your time, aim and squeeze. You get excited, fire without aiming and you’ll empty the magazine without making a single kill.”
“Got it,” Jim said as he crushed the brakes and put the PT into park, he took the gun from Frank and popped open his door. The gun looked as deadly as it felt in Jim’s hands. He copied every action movie he had ever seen and stood feet shoulder-width apart, pulled the gun tight against his shoulder and aimed down range at the mass of dead bodies on their way to feed. Frank and Sara exited on the passenger’s side. She had the Stranger’s shotgun and Frank had his SKS. Frank led the barrage and took down the infected that sprinted towards them.
Jim sighted in his first zombie. It was a husky young adult with greasy hair. Well, husky was the nice way to say the zombie was a chunky butted, basement dwelling, pizza faced, gamer, but it wasn’t Jim’s style to speak ill of the dead. Jim squeezed the trigger.
The rifle had some kick, but it was deadly accurate. The husky zombie had its head tilted back and its mouth was agape. Jim’s round hit it in the teeth and ripped out the back of its skull. It fell to the ground and tripped up the creatures directly behind it. Jim’s next six shots weren’t as lucky. He punctured a few shoulders, a chest, one hand and a neck. Sara cycled through her six shots and the bullets pulverized the front of the infected’s offensive line. Frank was spot on and downed thirty in as many seconds.
Movement at the window of Tina and Cliff’s apartment caught Jim’s attention. The couple pulled up the blinds and watched as the three of them unloaded on the approaching horde. It almost seemed unfair. The dead marched unfazed and headlong toward their doom. It looked like Jim and his crew were cheating. As if they had somehow tricked the army of the dead into walking straight into the wall of lead crashing into them.
Sara’s shotgun clicked empty so she tossed it into the backseat and pulled the Glock. The shotgun sledgehammered her shoulder every time she fired it. The Glock was as smooth as silk in comparison. Its light body felt amazing in her nimble hands. Half of her shots hit their targets. The horde was thinning out. Down to stragglers and slow pokes. The last of the zombies suffered from broken legs or were missing too much muscle on their thighs and calves to move efficiently.
The crew’s guns clicked empty. Jim set the rifle in the driver’s seat and grabbed his spear. He made a beeline for the closest infected and had to jump over a two-foot high mountain of mangled meat to get to them. He drove the blade of his spear through the remaining zombies. Every thrust was a bullseye. Jim’s kill ratio was much higher with this stick and knife than with the modern day weapon of war. He danced light on his toes to avoid tripping on the splayed out arms and legs that covered the ground. Sara joined him and splattered the last of the infected with a punishing downward swing. The smell of gun smoke hung heavy in the air. A light gray cloud of gunsmoke was carried away and caught up in the breeze. It became so quiet that it was eerie. Jim turned three sixty and double checked the dead freaks that laid at his feet.
“That wasn’t so bad. With a little practice and a ton of ammo we could clear this area out. Just like that church.” Sara spoke louder than normal. The gunshots had bombarded her eardrums. Frank was being proactive and took a seat behind the wheel of the PT and drove the vehicle over to a parking spot closest to the stairway. The ringing in Jim’s ears faded with every passing second as he followed Sara back to the car.
Jim knew that a little encouragement went a long way to lift someone’s spirits, and it seemed as good a time as any to pass some praise around. “Good job…” he said as he placed his hand on Sara’s shoulder. “…and thank you for coming with us. I don’t think we could have done it without you.”
Sara’s face went flush immediately. It was such a small thing that he said to her, but it was exactly what she needed to hear. The day’s events were compounding and had begun to pile up. It was taking the form of a stress migraine. Jim’s gentle touch and sincere tone helped soften the pounding behind her eyes. She prided herself on being tougher than most, but the day had beaten her down. She tried to respond with the same level of sincerity but her words got tongue tied and came out, “Yeah, no. I mean you’re welcome.” She smiled at Jim. His five o’clock shadow added to the rugged look his clothes and injuries had created. She tried to imagine how he looked earlier when he was the clean cut appliance salesman that he claimed to be, but she couldn’t picture it. She liked this manlier version better. The leather jacket, spear and blood splatter made him look like an action hero instead of the boring father of two that he really was.
They were halfway to the car when they both heard the sounds of something scratching at a window. It was coming from the SUV on the other side of the lot. It took Jim a second to focus, but then it became clear that something was clawing at the blood soaked windows.
“You go help Frank with the guns. I’ll take care of it.” Jim gave Sara one last pat on the back before he jogged over to the SUV. He didn’t know what to expect, but what he saw broke his heart. He recognized the husband from the pool. He was dead, really dead, maybe from the crash it was hard to tell. A chunk of white bone peeked out from his skin just under his hairline. Something had crushed his skull and brain. The children and wife had been turned. Their mangled bodies were twisted messes trying to climb over the front seats. They wanted to get out the busted driver’s window and rip Jim to shreds. Jim was sick of seeing women and children like this. The scene was as horrific as any he had come across that day.
“Goddamn it!” Jim opened the door so he could get a clear shot. There was no time to pay his respects. The infected family were on their way to get him. When the deed was done and the zombies were removed from their hell Jim thought that he was going to puke, but there wasn’t anything in his stomach. His muscles flexed and he dry heaved. He powered through the urge and redirected his focus. He had to get on to his next job. He pulled himself from the zombies and jogged back to the PT Cruiser.
Jim met back up with Frank and Sara as they unloaded the bags full of guns and ammo. He picked up his and they stomped up the flight of stairs. Cliff and Tina were at the top of the landing waiting to help them over the set of rails.
“Looks like it was a good run. Did you get everything on the list?” Tina said as she reached for the first bag.
“Yes, how’s Devon?” Sara asked as she passed her bag.
“He’s asleep and stable.” Tina grunted as the weight of the heavy bag strained her lower back.
“You guys run into any trouble?” Cliff helped his wife pull Sara
’s bag over the rail.
“A little,” Frank fought the hundred pounds of gear up the last few steps. Sara flung her thin leg over the rail and made the transition to the landing. Cliff and Tina helped the two men with their bags and Frank made it onto the landing after Sara.
Jim unfastened his backpack and handed it to Tina, “Here’s the medical supplies.” Tina took the backpack and headed straight into the apartment to begin prepping for Devon’s surgery.
“What’s in these?” Cliff asked as he dragged two of the canvas duffle bags through his entryway.
“Guns and ammo,” Sara answered and followed after Tina.
“Damn, did you knock over a store?” he asked with excitement.
“Yep,” Frank trailed the ladies and unzipped his bag to pull out the vials of medicine and get them into the refrigerator until they were needed.
Cliff dropped the bags inside the foyer and then returned to help Jim over the last rail. They clasped hands and Cliff pulled Jim over onto the landing and helped steady his exhausted body.
Tina emptied the contents of Jim’s backpack, “We need to get him up onto the kitchen counter. I might be at this for a while and can’t spend it squatting on the floor.” She placed the surgical kit on the counter and opened it. She had already found a flashlight and set it up on its end. Next to the kit she laid out the tapes and bandages and the suture kit. She was as prepped as she could possibly be given the current situation.
Sara and the men took position next to Devon and in unison they lifted him up off of the floor. The sudden movement woke Devon, “What are you doing to me?” He looked to Jim for answers.
“We got the supplies to fix your leg.” Jim carried the bulk of Devon’s torso and laid him gently onto the counter. Devon let out a string of whimpers and moans as the group released him.
Tina stood in front of the kitchen sink. She scrubbed her hands and forearms with antibacterial soap. The reality of what she was about to do was hitting her like a punch to the stomach.
Jim grabbed a chair from the dining room and placed it next to Devon’s head. He peeled off his leather jacket and set it on the back of the chair. He still had a set of soccer shin pads strapped to his forearm so he popped off the guard and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.
Tina pulled on a new set of rubber gloves as Sara worked to open the transfusion kit. Sara held the open box next to Jim. Tina looked over all of the tubing and equipment. Her hands moved efficiently as she figured out the kit’s system. She attached a clean needle. She quickly wiped his arm with an alcohol pad, found his vein and she gave no warning as she plunged the tip of the needle into Jim’s arm.
“Guys, wash your hands too and get on a set of gloves.” Tina nodded at Cliff and Sara. Then she placed a chunk of tape onto the needle to secure it to Jim’s body. His O negative fluid had begun its journey down the translucent tube and into a bag attached to the system. “What was your name again?” She asked Frank.
“Frank,” he responded as he pulled his duffle bag off of his shoulder.
“Well Frank can you help your friend here and get him a big glass of water and something to eat from the fridge? He’s going to need the energy and I bet he’s starving.” Tina searched for Devon’s vein, found it and plunged away. Seconds later Jim’s blood hit the injured young man’s arm.
Frank found his way through their kitchen and got the glass of water first. Sara and Cliff had their hands clean, gloves on and ready for instructions.
Frank stepped from the kitchen with the water and handed it to Jim, “Any requests?”
“Simple and fast would be best.” Jim took a sip of water.
“Got it,” Frank had spotted a box of healthy cereal in the cupboard and milk in the fridge. There’s not much out there food wise that was faster than a bowl of cereal.
“Alright, Sara You’re going to be my second set of hands and get me the tools and bandages as I call them out. Cliff you’re in charge of helping me keep the blood clear so I can see what I’m doing.” Tina said it and it was so.
Jim heard the familiar sounds of breakfast being made and a short while later Frank appeared with a bowl and spoon in his hands.
“Here you go.”
Jim exchanged his empty glass for the full bowl and spoon, “Thank you.” He dug in right away. The sweet taste of the milk and the crunch of the flakes were as close to heaven.
Devon drifted in and out of consciousness. The blood loss had taken its toll and he was as white as a racist’s sheet. Tina unwound the bandage from his leg until it was all clear.
“Cliff, take the two pads and press them to the wound. Sara get me the scissors.”
Cliff held one against the back of Devon’s leg and the other on the top of the thigh. Sara handed over the scissors and Tina began to cut the pant leg off.
Tina removed the fabric from Devon’s leg, “I need to clean this out and make sure there are no foreign objects in the wound before we stich it up.” She held a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and surgical tweezers. Tina poured out a small amount of peroxide onto the open wound. It fizzed up and bubbled for a while. Once it cleared she gently looked into the bullet hole with the flashlight. She couldn’t see any fabric from the pants or shards of the bullet. Blood raised up out of the hole.
“Give it a gentle wipe please,” she asked Cliff.
He grazed the top of Devon’s leg and wiped away the extra blood. Once she was sure that it was clear she dropped a little more peroxide onto it and let it bubble up again. Tina readied a sterile needle and thread. She had never stitched anyone before but she did make Alex’s Halloween costume last year and she hoped it would be close to the same principle. She made her first incision and started to stitch the wound closed. It didn’t take her very long to close up the little hole. Sara already had a bandage and tape ready to go and placed it on Devon’s thigh shortly after Tina cut the string of the thread.
“Okay, let’s roll him over onto his side so I can get at the back of his leg.” Tina said as she lifted Devon’s leg. Frank helped and grabbed Devon’s shoulders and rolled the young man to his side. She poured a helping of peroxide down the back of his thigh and it bubbled up again. Cliff wiped away a layer of excess blood and Tina held up the light to take a look. This time she did see something. It looked like a little hunk of his pants had passed through to the back of his leg.
“Shit!” Tina cursed as she picked up her tweezers.
“What?” Sara’s voice raised with concern.
“There’s something in there. I think I can get it.” Tina dug into Devon’s leg. That woke him up and he pulled his leg away from Tina.
“AAAHHH!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!!!” Devon fought against Frank’s grip.
“Get his leg!” Tina commanded Sara and Cliff.
“Hold on kid! There’s something in there and she’s got to get it out,” Frank said as he tightened his grip on Devon’s shoulders to keep him in one place.
They held him down as she poked around in the back of his thigh. He cried out. Begged them to please stop, but she couldn’t. Tina had to make sure the wound was clean.
Finally she got it. She poured more peroxide onto it to make sure it was fully cleaned. Tina prepared another needle and string. Devon’s screams ramped back up when she started in on fixing the bullet hole. Everyone felt horrible for the guy. Jim especially. He just had two stitch jobs done a few hours ago. He knew exactly how bad it hurt to have a needle threaded through your skin.
“Done!” Tina snipped the string and Sara placed the bandage on the back of his leg. They rolled Devon on to his back and Tina began to wrap his leg to secure the bandages and keep them from bleeding. Devon had passed back out and laid silent on the cheap counter top. The room was quiet. Except for Morgan. She was giggling at an episode of Futurama.
“Alright, that was fun. Now what?” Sara’s voice was exhausted.
Everyone turned to Jim.
The man with a plan.
The guy that always seeme
d to know what to do.
Jim’s eyes were shut, his head had dropped and he let out a soft snore.
Chapter 11
Karen clung to the side of the cabinet of the kitchen island. She was too afraid to look over the counter because, whoever was wielding the gun would take her head clean off. She was frozen with fear. It was her first time being shot at.
BOOM! BOOM!
The shots were fired at the garage door. The shooter must have seen Leon. Karen pulled her gun. Her trembling hand lost its grip and it crashed to the floor. Her nerves had gone haywire and were sending her muscles mixed signals on how to move. Footsteps crept across the hardwood floor. They were heading in her direction. Everything was happening so fast. Not even ten seconds ago the first round whizzed past her head.
Leon’s shotgun whipped around the corner of the garage door and he fired blindly into the kitchen.
A scream bellowed out of what sounded like a woman. It was followed by the sound of a body falling to the kitchen floor.
“Karen!” Leon called from the garage.
“I’m okay!” Karen snuck a look around the edge of the island. A bullet punched the floor inches from her face. Karen recoiled back, “FUCK!”
“Karen?” Leon’s voice strained and then he pumped a few more rounds around the corner in the direction the shot came from. The woman yelped and her gun clattered to the floor. Karen inched her way around the other side of the island until she saw a woman’s legs splayed out on the floor. She had a pair of brand new Nikes and yoga pants on. Crimson fluid pooled around her thighs. Karen kept her gun trained on the legs as she crept closer to the body on the floor.
“Karen?” Leon peeked one eye around the corner of the doorway and saw that she was fine and moved slowly towards the body slumped over on the floor.