Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)

by Shawn McLain

  Even though she was disappointed at the dark shop, Kate leapt down from her father’s bike, all thoughts of empty streets and cute boys in cools cars were gone. She only had eyes for the glistening chrome and steel with the sold sign that she knew was just inside the door.

  Walking up to the huge picture window she peered in, searching for her bike. Her hand found her wallet in her jacket; she could almost see the motorcycle endorsement printed on her license. She had passed the safety course a couple of weeks ago. She had picked out her bike. Worked all summer to save up for it and Monday the three of them would return to pick it up. A long and twisty ride was planned for that day.

  Her imagination had her twisting the throttle through a turn, the road rushing by her feet. She didn’t even hear her father and friend walk up behind her.

  “I haven’t seen her this excited since that Lego set came out a few years back.” Martin laughed.

  “I still can’t believe she went for the blue one. I thought sure she wanted a pink one.”

  Kate spun around to glare up at Bear. He took a step back holding up his hands in mock defense, a board smile playing under his beard. “I have never,” she poked him in his broad chest, “and will never,” another poke, the large man backed up a step, “like pink.” Kate emphasized her point by punching him in the shoulder, repeatedly.

  “Call her off Marty, call her off.”

  Martin laughed, “You got yourself into this you get yourself out.”

  “Ok ok, you don’t like pink.” Bear laughed out. “still buying you a basket for the front.” He mumbled.

  “Dork!” Kate said, as she shook her head trying not to let the smile break out. With one last punch she turned back to the store. A flash on chrome caught her attention, a light appear through a doorway in the back of the shop. “Hey look, Dusty is here.” She pointed the light out to the two men. Banging on the window to get his attention she yelled for him.

  Dusty Rhode’s head snapped up at the noise, he looked to the window. He saw Kate, she smiled and waved at him. He hesitated for a second, looked down at his hands and shirt. He hurried back through the door he had just come through.

  Kate turned to look at the other two who wore the same confused expression she did, “That was weird.”

  “Maybe he isn’t supposed to be here?” Bear pondered.

  “Huh” Kate grunted and stared back into the ever darkening store.

  The crunch of gravel told her that the two men were heading back to their bikes. A cold wind whipped her hair over her face. She shivered slightly but wasn’t entirely sure it was the wind.

  “Come on Kate, let’s get going.” Martin called as he started the bike.

  Kate stood staring between her bike and the closed door. Something was amiss. When they had been here on any other occasion Dusty would go out of his way to talk to them, to the point they had to make excuses to get away from him. Now he didn’t even return a wave.

  A bike revved. “We can pick you up Monday if you like.” Bear shouted over the engine.

  Kate returned to the bike. “Hold on a sec.” Another cool breeze had caused her to zip her jacket up all the way. She opened one of the hard bags on Martin’s bike and pulled out a pair of heavy leather pants. She pulled these over her jeans and jumped on the back of the bike. Pulling on her helmet she bonked her dad to let him know she was ready.

  “Can we go now?” Bear complained, throwing his hands in the air.

  Kate waved him off while Martin put the bike in gear.

  In the back of the store Dusty peered through a small gap in the door. He watched the taillights disappear from the lot. He looked down at the bloody wrench on the table and his blood covered hands and shirt. Would they have believed him? Behind Dusty the service manager lay on the floor. The front of his head was caved in. Dusty’s fingers rubbed lightly on the blood soaked cloth covering the bite he had received from the slain man. He flinched at the pain; the wound was already feeling very hot and Dusty’s head began to ache.

  Back on the road Bear’s unease grew with each block now. He had noticed the small group of people as they left the Harley shop. They had been slowly wandering down the block. Something about the way they moved bothered him. They just…weren’t right. “Probably, bunch a meth heads.” He grumbled to the wind.

  The further they rode the more they saw. Up ahead was a woman hanging onto a sign post. Down a side street there were four or five of them wandering down the middle of the road.

  “What do you reckon? The sick have started wandering about?” Martin shouted the question at the next stop light.

  “What the hell is wrong with everyone?” Bear returned. His eyes went wide, “Marty! Kate! Look out!” He was pointing behind them.

  Martin’s head snapped in the direction bear pointed. A Bloody man in a suit stumbled off the sidewalk toward them. He reached out a hand and grabbed Kate’s forearm. It felt like a vice closing on her. Kate screamed, Martin revved the engine and let go of the clutch. The front wheel of the heavy bike left the ground. Kate fell back painfully against the metal of the backrest. Her free arm held tightly to her father his left arm holding tightly to her’s as he felt her being pulled sideways.

  Kate cried out in pain as she felt like she was being wrenched from the seat. The man stumbled to keep up but lost his grip and fell. Kate could still feel his hand and knew her arm would be bruised. Even with the pain she wrapped it tightly around her father as the bike increased in speed.

  The two bikes flew down the road. Everywhere they looked bloody and battered people seemed to be materializing. Bear nearly ran down a kid who was blindly wandering across the road dragging a skateboard behind him with one arm, his other arm was missing.

  Martin was ahead and motioned to take a side street. They barely made the turn. When they did they faced a wall of people. Smoke billowed from the bike’s rear tire, rubber screeched, Martin shouted and Kate screamed. The heavy Electra glide slammed into the bloody wall of the stumbling horde. The handle bars snapped out of Martin’s hands and turned sideways. The bike lurched; Kate lost her grip on her father. For a moment she was airborne, she had left the back of the bike. Time slowed, she twisted in the air, hands reached and grabbed at her and Martin. Time caught up, pain exploded in her back and stars burst before her eyes. She slammed onto the pavement then rolled painfully, her shoulders slamming one then the other until she was stopped by knocking down a woman who was in the road.

  The woman fell across Kate’s legs and Kate’s helmet slammed into the ground again. She was sick and dizzy. Her neck ached as it hung in the air. Kate had landed in a somewhat seated position due to her backpack. The world spun, she felt as if she were just waking, that had to be it. That was the only explanation for what had just happened. It was a dream, a nightmare.

  Reality crashed down in the form of pain, pain that was shooting through her leg. The woman Kate had knocked down now had a grip on her thigh, the woman’s teeth pinched the flesh like a clamp while she was trying to bite through the thick leather pants. Kate’s knee felt like it was being ripped off. Then her arm was in a vice and being pulled up to a man’s mouth. Fingers dung into her chest trying to rip through her jacket.

  In a blur of motion and sound the woman at Kate’s knee flew backward, her head nearly separating from her body. To Kate’s horror the eyes still followed her every move. A Huge arm reached down and lifted Kate off the ground and for a moment off her feet. Hands still clawed at her, fingers tangled in her hair, her arm still being held by a disheveled man. Kate screamed in agony, her shoulder felt as if it was separating from her body.

  Another blur of motion and the ringing of metal like a bell. The man lost his grip on Kate’s arm. Kate was in the air then her breath was gone as she slammed onto Bear’s shoulder. She fought to gain air as she bumped along. Her back cried out in protest as she slammed onto the back rest of his bike. She barely got her leg over before she was smashed between Bear and the sissy bar.

  “D
ad! DAD! Where’s Dad?” Kate pounded on Bear’s huge back. She could see her father’s bike on its side and his boots twitching next to it. Her father was completely covered by people.

  The engine roared, tires screamed, dirt and gravel spit while the tires fought for traction. The front wheel left the ground for a second; Kate was crushed between the huge man and the seat again. She tried to turn to look back as Bear flew down the road. Tears streamed down her face from the pain and knowing they couldn’t help her father.

  Time to Clock Out

  Steve rubbed his eyes, then the back of his neck. So far the early part of his shift at the distribution center had been its usual mundane repetition. He was using one of the larger forklifts to stack empty shipping containers. The work was boring and Steve’s mind was wandering. He was back on the football field, the stadium at the college roared with cheers. He was dropping back to pass, it was first and goal with seconds left on the clock. This pass would win the game and the division. CRASH! The container he was moving slammed down harder than it should on the loading dock.

  Shaking out of his fantasy he tried to play off the blunder. “Damn! I need a break. Hey Brad, let’s get a cup a coffee.” He shouted to the man who was passing on another forklift.

  Brad Stevens was an older man, with a short grey pony tail that framed the bald top of his head. He slowed his lift, thought and grimaced, “Yeah alright be right there.”

  “Well only if it isn’t too much trouble.” Steve laughed Jumping down from his machine. Brad waved him off as Steve passed by on his way toward the office. Halfway there Brad jogged up to join him, slapping Steve on the back.

  “Figured it was about break time, you woke me up with that last container.” Brad laughed.

  Steve looked over at Brad’s pony tail and bald head and remarked. “When you gonna cut that thing off? You look like a bowling ball wearing a hula skirt.”

  “You can…” But Steve never heard what he could do as their conversation was interrupted as one of the office windows exploded. Glass and an office chair tumbled to the ground at their feet.

  Steve stopped short and stared throwing out an arm to stop Brad. Their attention was drawn from the chair at their feet to the shattered window. Screams erupted through the opening. A hand shot up then another grabbing onto the glass splintered ledge. Rachel was trying to claw her way out of the shattered window.

  “Help me, dear GOD! Steve, Brad! HELP!” She screamed. Her eyes were full of terror, pleading for Steve to save her. He and Brad ran to the terrified woman, Steve searched for smoke or fire. He could see or smell neither, there were no alarms just Rachel’s pleas.

  Each man grabbed an arm and started trying to pull her free of the window but she seemed to be stuck. Steve could barely keep a grip on her arm, the cuts on her hands and arms made her skin slick with blood. They tugged and pulled, each time she cried out in pain and fear. The more they pulled the more she seemed to be pulled back.

  Her face was pale and terrified. Her screams became more frantic by the second. Suddenly her grip tightened painfully on their arms. “Pull me out pull me out NOW!” She struggled and wriggled her feet kicking hard. Her cries increasing in pitch and intensity, she was truly panicked. She grabbed and clawed at the men, blood oozed down the wall where the broken glass cut into her stomach. Steve heard crashing from the room. He had to cover his head as she thrashed and pulled. Steve tried to calm her, get her to work with them to free her from the window.

  “They…They…They’re getting in! Get me out! Pull PULL PULL! Get off GET OFF AAARRGHGGGH GET ME OUT NOW!!” Rachel screamed at them. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes bulged. Steve and Brad pulled with all their might urged on by her panic. With a sudden lurch like a cork being pulled from a bottle she slipped free from the window.

  Steve knew in an instant that something was terribly wrong. Rachel was far too light. Looking down, “Sweet Jesus!” Steve cried in horror. Lying at his feet was only half of the woman. She gasped as red covered her lips and ran down her chin. Blood was draining quickly from just under her ribcage, her spine was exposed and her intestines made a trail from her torso to the window.

  Steve’s eyes followed the gruesome trail from the ground to the gaping shattered glass, “Holy Shit!” he stumbled backward tripping over Rachel’s sputtering torso. Gaining his balance he grabbed Brad’s arm. The men were rooted to the spot in horror as the woman’s intestines were being pulled back through the window.

  Rachel gurgled as blood spurt from her mouth. She reached for Steve. He never knew if she was trying to tell him something. He moved to her as her eyes rolled back into her head. Brad let out a howl, pushed off of Steve and pointed at the window then ran toward the parking lot.

  Steve head whipped from his retreating friend to where he had pointed. In the window was the face of a man. It was the shipping manager, only his right eye socket was empty and bloody. He was pulling the intestine back through the window and he was eating it as pulled greedily at the organ.

  Steve watched the hideous display, not being able to make his feet obey his command to run. Something grabbed his ankle breaking him out of his shock. His head snapped down. Rachel had one hand on his boot the other was clawing at the gravel. Her eyes showed no pain or recognition just hunger. He kicked her off and ran blindly after Brad toward the parking lot as screams and more shattering glass erupted from the office.

  Find Safety

  Bill Reager slowed the station wagon slightly as he went through the red light at the bottom of the hill. Beth clung tightly to the seatbelt, not out of fear over the older man’s driving but to fight the grief and panic that was threatening to overtake her. It was her lifeline, the only thing that seemed real at the moment. Every time she closed her eyes her father’s face, contorted in terror and agony, swam before her vision, it was all that she could see. She had to talk to her brother. She needed to know he was ok, and he had to know…about their father.

  Releasing the belt, her fingers ached from the grip, she moved her shaking hand into her jacket. It wasn’t in the inside pocket where she kept it. “Where is it?” Beth fumbled through her pockets. Bill glanced sideways at her.

  “Where is it?” She slapped at the jacket. She felt her pants pockets, returned to her jacket. “WHERE IS IT!” She shouted.

  Returning to the inside pocket her fingers curled around the familiar shape of the phone. Pulling it from her pocket she laughed while several tears escaped her eyes. Hitting the speed dial she put the phone to her ear. “Damn it.” She hung up, scrolled through the contacts. Hit the name but instantly dropped the phone and grabbed the seatbelt again. Bill jumped a curve to avoid a motorcycle. The rider was out of control, tearing out of one yard then heading through another. Several people stumbled after him.

  Recovering herself, she reached down searching for her phone. Picking it up she frantically unlocked it, she tried to make another call but the car bounced and swerved around a burning truck. She hit the wrong contact. Quickly hanging up she dialed another number. One hand held tight to the seatbelt the other holding the phone to her ear. Anger swelled up in her, she jerked the phone from her ear and hit the red “end” button. Frustration and anger overtook her, she called the robotic voice she had hung up on a name she reserved for the most vile of her hatred.

  Bill glanced over again. “What?” He asked calmly, as he swung the car around a bend and out of the path a minivan. The van careened out of control and through the guide rail then down an embankment. Beth spun in her seat to stare out the back window at the mangled railing, Bill did not slow down.

  “All the circuits are busy or something.” Beth turned back in her seat and started to text Steve. “Damn it. The text won’t go through either.” She yelled and slammed the phone against her leg. “I need to find Steve! Can you take me to the distribution center?”

  Bill glanced at her. “I have no idea where we need to go,” his eyes followed a police car that screamed by in the opposite direction, lig
hts flashing and siren blaring, “…. so why not?” He shrugged.

  “What the hell is happening,” Beth asked angrily holding up her phone as if it would answer her. “Why was Dad attacked? Why did they…Kill him? Why is Denny dead? What the hell was wrong with those people? Mrs. McGee was, she was, I mean she was all messed up?” Beth continued getting more hysterical with each question.

  “I don’t know. All the news said was that people needed to stay in their homes, not to panic. Something about the people with the flu getting violent. Denny had been sick for a couple days.” Bill paused as he swerved around a wrecked Mercedes. “I went to check on him and he wasn’t breathing… but he got up… He got up and attacked me.” Bill gripped the wheel tightly. “He was trying to bite me. He was dead but he got up and tried to…Kill me.” Bill was almost pleading with Beth to understand.

  “I hit him. I hit him and he fell back against the night stand.” Bill clipped a mailbox as he skidded around a body in the road. “I heard his head hit the corner. His neck must have broken. He couldn’t move but, but his eyes followed me. They followed me all over the room. The body was paralyzed, but… He should have been dead! He was Dead!” Bill burst out. “He kept watching me and even though he couldn’t move. His mouth tried to bite at me… he was still trying to get to me.” Bill looked over at Beth who stared back her eyes brimming with tears and her hands covering her mouth.

  Bill stared straight ahead his eyes barely seeing the road. Bursting across the outbound lanes, horns blared and several cars swerved out of Bill’s path as he pulled onto the main road into town. The opposite lanes were streaming with traffic.

  “I couldn’t leave him. So I, I….I ended his suffering.” Tears ran down Bill’s face. He swiped at them trying to clear his vision.

  Beth turned to face the front of the car, staring blankly out of the window trying to understand what she was hearing. She became aware the radio was on but very low. She reached over to turn it up a little. For several minutes Beth and Bill sat in silence while the radio repeated the same constant loop. “The emergency management department urges citizens to remain in their residence. Please keep the roads clear for emergency personnel…stay tuned to this station for further information,”