Dead of Knight: A Zombie Apocalypse Survival Tale

by Beard, Stephen J.

  Mike Jr stayed on the porch while his father and I went inside. The car keys were on a rack in the kitchen just where I thought they’d be. We were in and out in 30 seconds. After loading the car, we climbed in and it started right up. I made a right out of the driveway which took us back past my house. Sam and Lois were waving from an upstairs window. We all did our best to wave back. At the corner, there was a boom box in the road.

  “Strange place for a boom box,” said Mike Jr.

  “Remind me to tell you that story some time.”

  I wanted to take the back way out of the neighborhood to avoid as many wrecks and abandoned cars as possible. But, by going this way, we were going by more neighborhoods. Even before we got out of my neighborhood I had seen more zombies that the previous two days combined. There were several just around the corner from the house that were kneeling around what appeared to be a fresh kill. It must have been fresh since zombies weren’t interested in something that was dead. The zombies looked up at the car as it went past but made no attempt to follow.

  A little farther along, there was a child walking down the middle of the street in the direction the Camry was traveling. At first, I got excited thinking it was a human child. But, as we approached, I recognized the staggering walk that all the zombies seem to do. Looking over as we passed, the child reached out to gab at the car and fell to the street.

  “Shouldn’t we be killing these things,” asked Mike Jr.

  “In theory, yes,” I said. “Every zombie we kill today is one less to threaten us and one less to make other zombies. But, we have a job to do today. We need water and food. If we stop and kill every one of these things we see, we’ll never get our job done.”

  “After we get supplies,” said Michael. “Should we try to clear the neighborhood out?”

  “If we have a way to do it safely, then sure. But I think we’d need to put some thought into that.”

  Two of the homes in my neighborhood were burnt to the ground. Another had four zombies pounding on the front door. I felt bad about driving past that house. And the other guys were quiet. There seemed to be an undead every 2 or 3 houses.

  Once through the neighborhood, we picked up a little speed. But, everywhere we looked there were zombies or signs of zombies. The yard of one house was littered with the possessions they dropped on the way out. Clothes, toys, food. They must’ve been in a real hurry. Just past that house, there was a minivan off the side of the road. Nothing inside was moving.

  Once back on the main road on the island, Maybank Hwy, we passed a grocery store. We went by slowly but couldn’t see any signs of looting at the Food Lion. Twenty minutes of wrecks and stalled cars later, we approached Folly Road and turned left to head downtown. The number of cars on this side of the road suddenly decreased. No one was trying to get into downtown Charleston, I guess. As we approached the round Holliday Inn on the west side of the Ashley River, I brought the car to a stop.

  Both sides of the drawbridge were up. That’s why there were no cars on the northbound side. The parking lot of the Holiday Inn was situated between north and south Hwy 17 and we pulled in. The southbound side of Hwy 17 was a parking lot. Whoever raised the bridge, whether they did it to keep the living out or the dead in, had clearly done it at the last minute. Several of the northbound cars sat crumpled at the bottom of the drawbridge. They had obviously been on the span when it opened.

  “Now what?” asked Michael.

  “We take that bridge over there.” I pointed east to the James Island Connector. But it was hard to tell if there was a way through. There were cars stopped at odd angles and piled up in several places. A semi-trailer appeared to be jackknifed across the road. Something was on fire.

  “That doesn’t look open. Is there a third option?”

  “Sure,” I said. “We can take a boat.”

  “If we take a boat,” asked Mike Jr. “How are we gonna get back over here? I don’t want to spend the night”

  “Well, there are two more bridges farther up the river and then there’s a long way around.”

  “Which do you think is better; boat or bridge?” asked Michael.

  “You’re right about one thing: I don’t want to get over there and be stuck. Let’s try the next bridge up the river.”

  The Camry got a workout as we headed to the Cosgrove Bridge, the next bridge up the Ashley River. The road was only barely passable in some places and it seemed like we spent more time going back and forth across the road rather than making much headway. And there were many more zombies staggering about. What should have been a 15 minute drive took almost an hour. But the Cosgrove Bridge itself was passable and Interstate 26 east toward Charleston was almost deserted. No one was trying to get into the city. I guess the police had more important things to do than reverse the lanes like they do for a hurricane evacuation. As I 26 ended, the road dropped us off only two blocks from where the bus was parked. But there, the road was blocked.

  Vehicles, dumpsters and debris formed a make shift barricade on Meeting St at the foot of the ramp. It looked as if it had been breached but the hole wasn’t large enough for the Camry to fit through. I pulled to the other side of the street and parked the car. There were 6 or 7 zombies staggering around the other side of the barricade. They had seen the car and were trying to get to it.

  “We can’t get the car through there,” I said. “And I don’t think we can move much of that by hand.”

  “Then how do we get through?’ asked Michael.

  “There are two buses. I was only going to take one because I wanted us to stay together. But, I have the keys for both of them. We can use the older bus as a battering ram to make a larger hole for the other one. It’s just a matter of making that small hole larger.”

  “Alright, makes sense,” said Michael. Mike Jr nodded in agreement.

  “I see the zombies on the other side of the barricade,” I said. “You guys see any others?”

  They looked around but saw none. Since Mike Jr had his crossbow, he got out and stood watch while Michael and I retrieved our gear. I was glad that Karen and I got slings for the AR’s. We were carrying a lot of gear.

  “If we can, we need to retrieve the bolts from the zombies. Otherwise we will run out eventually. Let’s see if we can safely get a few of the zombies over there from this side of the barricade,” I said. “No point putting ourselves in harm’s way any more than we have to.”

  As we moved closer to the barricade, the zombies became more animated and got louder as they tried to get to us. It turned out that I suck with a crossbow. I missed my first three shots in a row. Michael was better and only missed twice before hitting two in the head. And Mike Jr took down four as rapidly as he could reload. There was one more kinda behind a truck and no one could get a good angle. I walked carefully through the barricade as I drew my tomahawk. Once through the zombie came toward me and I took it down with one swing of the hawk.

  “I don’t like to get that close now that I have this,” said Mike Jr as he held up his crossbow.

  “Yeah, I’m a big fan of killing zombies from a distance,” agreed Michael.

  “Well,” I said. “Apparently I can’t hit shit with the crossbow and need more practice. C’mon, let’s get our bolts.”

  Mike Jr and his dad found their bolts and wiped the blood off on the zombies’ clothing. No one was sure if getting zombie’s blood on your skin would turn you but there was no point taking chances. I only found one of the three I shot and it was cracked. Damn, there wasn’t enough stuff for me to be wasting it like that. I’ll have to practice in the backyard when we get back.

  Just then we heard gun fire in the distance. There were too many buildings to be really sure, but we all thought it was coming from the direction of the market.

  “Well, somebody’s alive and kicking,” said Michael.

  “Yeah, but they’re either stupid or desperate,” I said. “That’s a lot of noise.”

  “Good for us, though,” said Mike Jr.
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  “That’s for sure,” I said.

  And there it was. Somebody was going to die in a few minutes if not sooner. Maybe several somebody’s. And because of that fact, the three of us were safer because it was drawing the zombies off in a different direction. Just another day in a world gone mad.

  We walked south on Meeting St toward Line St just two blocks away. As we approached, we could see a few zombies staggering through the intersection in the direction of the gun fire which had grown more sporadic. We turned left on Line St and immediately found ourselves with 8 zombies directly in front of us, staggering and shambling toward the sounds of the gun fire.

  We raised our crossbows and fired. At that short distance, we all hit our marks. Five to go. But they were close and none of us were quick at reload the crossbows yet so out came the tomahawks. The remaining five zombies were spread out somewhat and their heads were bashed in short order. After retrieving our bolts, we walked about ten more yards and turned into the parking lot to find the buses. They were both right where they were supposed to be. It was a little sad to me really, neither bus would ever give another tour. As expected, they both started right up.

  “Michael, do you want to bash through the barricade or drive safely behind?” I asked.

  “The way he drove the RV he should do the bashing,” said Mike Jr.

  “Oh, very funny,” Michael replied. “But, you’re probably right. I’ll do the bashing.”

  “Okay, the older bus has some occasional issues occasionally so we’ll use that one to do the bashing.”

  Mike Jr and I got into the newer bus and Michael climbed into the older one. He led the way back out onto Line St and back the way we came. There was only barely enough room in some places with all the wrecks and stalled cars. It took longer to drive back to the barricade than it had to walk from it.

  I held back while Michael tried to push his way through the small hole in the barricade. It wasn’t budging. So, after a few tries he backed up and gunned it. The bus smashed into the barricade and made the hole larger. Another try and he was through. Michael pulled the bus over a little farther past the barricade.

  “Why don’t we keep both buses?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to split us up and we don’t have time to go back to the house and then get to Costco. Besides, you’re leaking anti-freeze pretty good. C’mon, let’s get rolling. Your bus smashing was loud.”

  A little farther up the road I fished the locking pliers and the wd-40 out of my bag and passed them to Michael.

  “I want you guys to see if you can get a few of those seats in the back loose. If we can keep, maybe, half that would give us a lot more space for supplies.”

  Michael and Mike Jr got to work on the bolts that secured the seats to the floor. I drove slow anyway because of the wrecks and abandoned cars. Each time I turned sharply or was about to hit a bump, I called out so the guys could prepare. I didn’t want them hurt while on the floor of the bus. The roads were clogged with vehicles as expected and it took twice as long to get to the Costco as it should have. By the time I pulled into the Costco parking lot they had unbolted the back eight seats.

  “That’s excellent work guys. Really. We can get a few more out later on at the house. Ideally, I’d like to have a little more space for supplies, but I didn’t think you’d get that far.”

  The Costco parking lot had 30 or 40 vehicles in it. Many more than I was expecting to find. There was also the matter of the adjacent apartment complex that I had forgotten about. There were more than a few zombies that could be seen milling about in front of the buildings. But, they were several hundred yards away. The more immediate concern was closer.

  “Where are all the people that those cars belong to?” asked Michael.

  “Good question. They’ve got to be inside, dontcha think? There’s no reason you would’ve just left your car at the Costco,” I replied.

  “But, why would you leave the house at all if you were that sick or that close to turning?” asked Mike Jr.

  “Maybe they got bitten here. They came for supplies and got bitten at the store? I don’t know. But, I do know that if they are all inside we’ll have our work cut out for us,” I said.

  “This’ll be fun,” said Mike Jr.

  “Just another day in a world gone mad,” I said. “Let me pull up closer so that the passenger door faces the entrance.”

  “Do we have a plan?” asked Michael.

  “Well, we have to clear the store, obviously,” I said. “But, I can’t make a plan until we see how many are near the front.”

  I put the bus into ‘park’, but didn’t shut it off. Something felt wrong but I didn’t know what it was.

  “”What’s up, Mr. Knight?” asked Mike Jr.

  “Ryan, Mike. Call me Ryan. And I don’t know. I just feel like we’re being watched.”

  “Well, there are quite a few zombies at the door who look awfully hungry,” Mike Jr replied.

  “Yeah, I see em. But that’s not it. I feel, I don’t know. I wish I had some binoculars.”

  I sat for a minute, looking out at the parking lot, trying to put what I felt into words. Finally, I shut off the bus, opened the passenger door and stepped out. We sized up the situation at the door. These entrance doors would normally slide open when you walked up but the power was out. I didn’t think they’d be locked.

  “Okay, same plan as when we first met down in Yemassee yesterday. I open the door a little and let one through at a time. Only today we start with the crossbows. Take turns shooting. We can’t reload very fast and if we all shoot at the same time, we’re vulnerable.”

  “You sure you want to be that close?” asked Michael.

  “No, but I don’t want to break the glass. It’ll be too loud and it’ll let too many through at once. Who’s shooting first?”

  “I will,’ said Mike Jr.

  “Good. Then Michael shoots, then me. Get ready.”

  I stepped up close to the door and the other two got ready to fire. There were maybe 15 zombies right at the door. There were only ten when we first got out of the bus. The others were attracted by the moans of the ones already there who saw the prey. I hoped that they would all come up to the door to be fed. That way we wouldn’t have to hunt through the store. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. I looked back at the others who nodded. My best case scenario here was to hook the door closest to me with the pointy end of the tomahawk. Then I could pull it towards me and open both doors at once. Staying out of the opening would minimize my exposure.

  I pulled on the tomahawk handle with both hands but the door only opened about a foot. Crap. And, of course, there was a zombie right there trying to get through.

  “Mike, Jr, hit this one in three, two, one.”

  Mike Jr, loosed a bolt and hit the zombie in the left eye. At the same moment, I placed the tomahawk on the other side of the door and grabbed this side with my bare hands. Pushing on the tomahawk and pulling on this side, I managed to open the door about 30 inches. I pulled away from the opening and promptly fell down. Michael loosed a bolt then Mike Jr finished reloading and did the same. The dead zombies in the doorway made it difficult for the one behind to get through. This gave us more time to reload. I managed to get myself and my crossbow up while the other two reloaded. I loosed a bolt and took out the next zombie trying to get through the door.

  “They’re not too bright are they?” asked Mike Jr. “They can’t figure this out.”

  “I agree,” said his father. “They might be able to climb a hill but steps and door handles are out of the question.”

  “Watch them as they fall, though.” I cautioned. “A bite to the foot or ankle is still a bite.”

  All at once there were no more zombies at the door. We had killed 32 using the bottleneck at the door. Cautiously, Michael and I moved closer to the door and dragged the bodies away trying to only touch the clothing. Mike Jr kept watch.

  “How’s the apartment complex look, Mike?” I asked.

>   “About the same.”

  We policed our bolts and got ready to enter the store. Michael and I pulled the doors the rest of the way open with Mike Jr ready in case something came through the door. Nothing did.

  “Do we stay together or split up to do this?” asked Michael.

  “Stay together to clear the building,” I replied. “Once we’re done with that then we’ll split up to gather supplies.”

  We closed the door behind us. No point letting more zombies in while we were clearing the place. The building was dark without power. A few emergency lights were still on and the skylights helped a little. We could see only 35 feet or so in front of ourselves. Walking slowly together, we used our flashlights to look for zombies. Once found, the light was shined in their eyes and another person shot them in the head. The light from the flashlight seemed to disorient them in the darkened building. Maybe their pupils didn’t dilate quickly. That might be important to remember.

  We found 19 more zombies in Costco, including a child in one of the bathrooms that Michael hesitated to shoot. I did it, with some measure of regret.

  “Sorry,” said Michael.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. We all hesitated.”

  With that exception, each zombie had been dispatched without much difficulty and there were no close calls.

  “I think we got them all,” said Michael.

  “Looked like it,” I said.

  “I think so, too,” Mike chimed in.

  “Time to split up then. You two, take flat carts and get as much water as you can possible get. Wait…” I walked over to a display near the door and found one of the things I wanted to find. Walkie-talkies. There were ten 2-packs and I took all of them. Each came with the AAA batteries needed and had more channels than we would ever need in the zombie apocalypse. We opened two packages and loaded the batteries. The other packages went in my cart. After a radio check, I got back to what I was talking about.

  “Water. All of it if we can. Things like Gatorade aren’t bad either. When you’re ready to come back up front, call me. I want all of us up here when we’re loading. I’m going for medical supplies. Do any of you need prescriptions? How about Lois?”