Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)

by Shawn McLain

  Beth glared at the soldier. “Decontaminated? You mean killed.”

  Hector fired up at once. “We lost two of our Docs to some guys who turned. We couldn’t lose anyone else! We had families coming in who needed us to keep them safe! We had our own people to look after not come here!” He slammed the back of his head into the wall of the truck.”

  “Well sorry for ruining your day! But it hasn’t been a ray of sunshine for us here in case you missed it.” Beth threw back at him.

  Max looked back and forth from the military man to the teenage girl like he was watching a tennis match of shouting. Hector glared at Beth for several seconds, she did not look away. Hector’s expression changed to exhaustion. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Trevor shouted out exasperated, “we're all having a shitty day! What the hell happened and where should we go? I mean more of you guys are coming to get us right?”

  Hector glanced over at Max. Max shook his head, “no, I don’t think they are.”

  Trevor stuttered, “ wh wha what do you mean? No?”

  Hector looked up. “We lost control of the city. They own it now.”

  “How? How did we lose control?” Trevor pleaded.

  Max put his head in his hands and sighed, “What difference does it make?”

  Martin straightened up and spoke with the authority and presence of a man used to being answered, “What the hell happened?”

  Shocked, Hector looked around at the faces in the truck. He nodded to the Mayor and spoke in a clear military tone. “Things were going alright, at first. We were separating the sick from the healthy.”

  “How” Gillian asked.

  “We told them...” He faltered, “we told them we had a vaccine and to go to the tents.”

  Gillian looked down at her hands in her lap. Beth closed her eyes and turned her head from the men. She looked out the back window and listened to Hector return to his story.

  “We had the people leave their stuff and go up into the stands. We took their guns so, they couldn’t cause trouble if they couldn’t get out on the chopper they wanted or if they found out what was happening in the tents. We had heard that was what happened up at the theater.”

  Hector gathered his thoughts as Matt breathed...”Dude”

  “Like I said, things were going ok until we saw a group of them heading toward the south entrance. These were not refugees; this was a whole group of infected. I don’t know if it was the noise of the helicopters or the living or what but they started coming out of everywhere. The cops were shouting at them to stop but, well that didn’t work.”

  Max gave an angry grunt, “like we knew what the hell was going on, no one told us they were already dead.”

  Beth turned back to the men as Hector continued. “Well, we knew they weren’t going to stop so we opened fire. There were so many of them we had to fall back. Head shots aren’t the easiest and grenades don’t work if the person isn’t going to notice shrapnel sticking out of them, these things don’t exactly bleed. So we start to fall back. Well I guess the people in the stands took notice of us losing ground and they start to panic.”

  Max spoke up, “well what the hell did you expect? There they are in a place with barricades all around it, the army shooting and falling back and all their weapons were confiscated when they came in!”

  Hector gave a mirthless laugh, “yeah that caused a lot of problems. Captain moron is trying to keep those folks from getting their weapons so the dumbass has some of the guys open fire on the crowd. A crowd already in a panic, that turned it into a total cluster fuck.” Hector sighed.

  Disgusted, Beth snarled. “So he opens fire on the people he was told to come get?”

  “Yep, then he calls for a full retreat. The rest of the guys start heading for the choppers, well so do all the civilians. I grabbed this guy,” Hector motions to Max, “and I head in to try to get the fuck out of dodge and that is when that chopper slams into the stands.” Hector looked back down at his rifle.

  Max then spoke up. “It was total anarchy after that. Living, dead, army, everyone was attacking everyone. People were getting shot left and right and then getting right back up to try and chew your face off. That chopper sliced through the crowd, Blades dicing bodies as it slammed into the stands.”

  Max sat there staring at nothing and just kept talking. “People were jumping out of its belly as it careened into those stands and burst into a fireball. The living and the dead were engulfed in the flames. The only difference was the dead were still walking.” Max seemed to have lost the ability to continue as he covered his face.

  Hector reached across the van and gave Max a pat on the knee then continued their story. “Well, now the flaming dead were shuffling toward the barricades. It was a mess of screaming, those things making this howling noise, gunfire and explosions. The rest of the people who were trapped just started shooting at anything living or dead as we tried to evacuate and,”

  “Leave several hundred survivors to scatter and run from their fate.” Beth finished for him.

  “I don’t see me safe at camp do you? Me or half the guys that were outside the park. We were fighting for our lives on two fronts and lost both.” Hector finished bitterly.

  Devin turned around in his seat and noticed their path was starting to become blocked with the undead. “Time to find another place to be.” He said as they pulled forward through the outstretched arms.

  For the Moment

  Shaking hands with the Priest Steve continued up the stairs to the church. Stopping next to the door he rested his head against his arm. “That was too close.” He muttered.

  “You’re not kidding. Don’t do that crap to me again. You’re supposed to be the big hero not me.” Wes slapped Steve on the back.

  “I am a hero!” Steve straightened up to his full height, “Come on ya loser.” He pulled Wes into a headlock while dragging him to the huge oak doors. Letting go they pulled the heavy doors open. Wes noticed, with relief, that the doors were several inches thick and sat on massive iron hinges. They passed through the first set of doors into a small entry way. Straight ahead was a second set of smaller doors. These too were heavy and thick.

  “It will take a lot to get through those.” Wes noted.

  “My guess is the windows aren’t easily accessible.” Steve nodded to one of the huge stain glassed windows showing a scene from the bible of Noah’s ark. Wes turned and gave him a quizzical look. “We had to climb stairs to get to the front door right? Those windows start about waist level, so I guess they are about ten feet off the ground. Must be a level or basement below us.”

  Wes looked down at his feet as if he could see through the floor, “Let’s hope there are no windows down there.”

  “They are very small and re-enforced, as is the glass covering our stained glass.” Explained a voice from behind them. “We had some trouble with vandals a few years ago.” A small woman in her seventies explained then hurried past them with a bottle of water and some paper towels. Steve watched her bustle up the center aisle of the church. Looking around he noticed most of the pews were empty. The woman had reached the front of the church where several people were huddled together in small groups. They all looked like they had a rough time getting here.

  Wes nudged Steve and pointed to a person lying on the floor covered in a blanket. They approached slowly trying not to bring attention to themselves. They saw it was a man and he was moaning. The woman who had spoken to them was pouring water onto the paper towels and handing some to another woman sitting next to the injured man. She was speaking low and comforting to him. A smell made its way to them as they approached. Wes looked over at Steve with raised eyebrows.

  “Smells like bar be que.” He whispered. Steve shushed him and pointed. Wes closed his eyes and groaned. He couldn’t believe he had just said that when he realized the man on the floor had been burned badly. “Oh man that is gonna linger.” Wes muttered covering his nose and turning away. He headed for a pew several rows b
ehind them, slung off his pack shoulder and slumped down in the empty pew.

  Reaching into the pack he retrieved a box of ammo and immediately started reloading his empty clips. Steve noticed the intensity that Wes was loading his weapon. He dropped down next to the young man. Wes brushed at his eye with the back of his hand.

  “How many times am I gonna do this today?” He choked.

  Steve sat next to him in silence for a moment. “As many as you need to man.” He whispered and put a hand on Wes’ back. Wes finished loading the bullets and slipped the clip into the gun.

  Steve jumped up. “BETH!” He yelled and reached in his jacket.

  “One missed call.” His phone read.

  “Beth?” Wes jumped up looking around frantically. He saw Steve had his phone out. He bounced on the balls of his feet.

  “Beth. I heard Beth’s ring tone.” Steve said smiling down at the phone.

  “She hates that song you know.” Wes said, his face glowing with excitement.

  Steve checked the phone and his face fell. “No message.” Disappointment crashed over them.

  “She called though so she must be ok.” Wes stated like this made it fact.

  “I’m number one on her speed dial…something could have hit the button and called me…it’s happened before.” Steve noted miserably staring at the phone.

  “Call her back. Call her back now.” Wes ordered.

  Steve hit his speed dial for Beth and put the phone to his ear.

  “Well?’ Wes asked anxiously.

  “No service. Damn it.” Steve muttered sinking back down into the pew and burying his face in his hands. Wes grabbed the phone and tried several times to call or send a text message, but nothing would go through.

  After several minutes he stopped trying. “She’s ok.” He sighed. He looked at Steve who kept his head in his hands. Wes could tell by the movement of his shoulders that Steve was now the one crying. Wes rested his hand on his friends shoulder. “She’s ok, she’s ok, I know she is ok.” He reassured them both. Steve just nodded but never looked up.

  No Place Like Home

  Devin had driven through the streets of the city for a couple of hours. After picking up Max and Hector they had agreed to help any other survivors they could. So far they had not been able to help anyone else. The closest they came was a woman around Beth’s age. She was almost to the door when they noticed the bite on her neck. Her cries for help still echoed in Beth’s ears.

  Now the truck was climbing slowly through one of the suburbs. Devin turned down the last street before the houses changed to woods. Trevor noticed Devin’s grip on the wheel tighten. “Do you know this neighborhood?’

  Devin grimaced, “yeah its mine.”

  The truck lumbered to a halt in front of a brick two story house. Devin stared out the front window. Taking a deep breath he glanced at the front of the house. Past the immaculately trimmed front lawn the front door hung open. The glass storm door was smeared with bloody hand prints. No one could tell if it was on the inside or outside. Devin looked at the shattered front window and his blood froze.

  “We’ll go check it out.” Beth spoke as she put her hand on Devin’s shoulder.

  He turned to her, gave a weak smile as said, “no, that is ok.” His voice cracked as he faced forward putting the truck in gear and pulled into his neighbor’s driveway to turn around. “I’m sure they left for her mother’s.” Tears streamed down his face. The light was gone as they returned to the city. “Should we try anyone else’s house?” Devin asked. The others either already knew the fate of loved ones, or had no one in town to check on. Silence filled the truck as they made their way back to town.

  Beth pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit her contacts. Steve’s name came up right followed by Wes’. One of them had to be safe. She assured herself.

  Nice Night For It

  Jeremy sat on the roof of his house drinking a beer and watching the road. He was waiting for his wife to get home. If he was honest with himself he knew she never would. He had been on the phone with her when he heard the shooting, the line had gone dead and he hadn’t been able to reach her since. She had been at work at the hospital since this thing has started.

  He put the bottle to his lips then pulled it away, a look of disgust crossed his face. The bottle was empty. He watched the people in the street milling around. He knew what they were. He had heard the news reports, seen his neighbor die and get back up.

  Jeremy stood up, his balance a bit off from the drink and angle of the roof. He chose a target and threw the bottle. SMASH! It landed several feet from where he had intended. Even though he missed the result made him laugh. The zombies in the street gathered at the bottle. They bumped into each other, one fell down, the undead seemed completely confused by the noise.

  Jeremy watched for a few moments then fell back to a seated position. He reached over and flipped open the cooler that was next to him. Retrieving another beer he twisted off the cap. He flipped it from the roof. It hit the ground with a small clink. Several zombies moved toward the sound. Jeremy pulled the revolver out of the back of his pants. He grabbed the box of ammunition he brought up with him. Loading six shells into the chamber, he thought. “Well they are already dead right?”

  He fired of a shot, it pinged off the road, somewhere to the left glass shattered. Jeremy’s ears rang but he stifled a laugh. The three noises caused the zombies to return to their slow spinning as they looked for the sources. Jeremy finished his beer. He took the empty to the edge of the roof for target practice. The gun bucked, the muzzle flashed but the bottled remained intact. Another cap flew from the roof. Another shot, then another. The gun was reloaded. A bottle flew off the roof followed by another cap. The noises helped the undead find Jeremy’s house.

  Standing on the edge of his roof, Jeremy relieved himself on the crowd below. He fired several shots into the crowd. He heard the front window of his house shatter. “Nice night for it, isn’t boys?” He shouted. Weaving his way back to the cooler he repeated, “nice night for it.” He reloaded the gun then threw the empty box off the roof.

  He reached into the cooler searching through the cold water for the last beer. He sipped it slowly enjoying every drop that passed over his tongue. He aimed at the empty bottle still perched on the edge. Thought about it took another long drink then walked back to the edge. Looking over he saw in the glow of his dusk to dawn light that his house was completely surrounded. He could hear them in his house breaking furniture and glass.

  The empty bottle dropped from his hand shattering on the head of a neighbor girl. Five shots blasted in the night, three of his neighbors lay unmoving on his lawn. A single tear ran down his face. Jeremy tasted the warm steel and sulfur of the barrel. A shot rang out, Jeremy’s lifeless body crashed down on the undead below. The zombies looked at the man. The top of his head was missing and his heart no longer pumped. After an hour the undead had almost completely dispersed. A lone zombie clawed at the window, trapped in the house. Jeremy lay among some of his neighbors, a picture of his wife still clutched in his lifeless hand.

  Resupply

  “We can’t just keep driving around,” Martin grumbled.

  “That and we don’t have the gas for it and if it runs out we are screwed. I, for one, would like the option to keep moving.” Devin stated. He looked down at the fuel gauge. It was showing a quarter of a tank. “We really should consider trying to fill up and soon.”

  “Are we that low?” Gillian asked.

  “No but the power isn’t going to last more than three days without people to take care of it.” Devin’s response left the truck in uneasy silence. Devin turned around and headed back to the edge of the city.

  “Do you think this will last that long? I mean for us to lose power? What if the gas stations are out of gas?” Matt questioned in a panic.

  “Why would they be?” Gillian inquired.

  “Well if I were to try to get out of the city.” Matt explained. “I would
make damn sure I had the gas to get as far away as possible. Gassing up here would feel safer than trying to find a place when I’m on the highway.”

  “We’ll have to make finding fuel the number one priority. I think there is a station up ahead.” Devin said trying to keep his tone light. Darkness had fallen around them. The lights of the gas station could be seen as they crested a hill. Devin surveyed the area as they approached. Nothing was moving, the houses nearby were all dark.

  Max and Hector began discussing who was going to cover which end of the truck. Beth spoke up. “I know how to handle a gun. She said pointing to the semi-automatic Hector had holstered. “ I notice that you have an extra sidearm.” Hector looked at the young woman then at the side arm. Max made an impatient noise in his throat. Hector ignored him and looked back at Beth.

  “A cheerleader with weapons training?” The soldier scoffed.

  “I was the drum major actually.” Beth replied dryly.

  “I knew it! For the Yellow Jackets right?” Matt interrupted. Beth nodded, “Oh Man you guys do not have a good football team. But… um… the band is good.” He finished lamely taking in the look she gave him.

  Beth turned slowly from glaring at Matt to look at Hector. “And yes I have. My father was in the army and he taught me and my brother.” Hector gave her an evaluating look.

  “Come on man! She’s just a kid.” Max threw out annoyed.

  Hector pulled out his side arm and handed it to Beth. She checked the safety, ejected the clip to count the bullets. She checked to be sure a round was chambered. “There are only three rounds. Do you have a spare mag?”

  Hector laughed reached in his pocket and pulled out a full clip and handed it to Beth. Devin pulled into a gas station lot. They could barely see outside the ring of light surrounding the pumps and small convenience store. It was a small station only having four pumps. Devin pulled to a pump in the middle of the light.