by TW Gallier
My eyes locked with his angrily insane eyes. The sound of more of them drifted up to me. My blood ran cold. Was I about to die and be eaten? Or worse, would I become one of them? Would I then attack my kids and friends?
Shifting under him, back bowed dramatically due to his unbreakable hold on me, I found my knee between his wide-spread legs. My knee came up to smash him. I tried to pulverize his testicles. Maybe I did. He gave no indication of pain. Instead, one arm remained around me while the other came up to palm the back of my head.
He began pulling my face closer and closer to his. I screamed and kicked. And then the railing gave and we flipped over to the ground. I landed on top of the zombie, and he went limp. I froze, feeling his grip slowly loosen and fall away. Then I saw that his neck struck a rock, so he died of a broken neck.
He wasn't alone.
"Stupid jerks," I cried. "I'm going to turn you all into the unwalking dead."
I rolled away as a female jumped. Rolling to one knee, I turned and thrust my spear into her throat. She gurgled, but lunged at me. I tried to dart away, but she grabbed my right ankle and dragged me down again. Two more were coming at me from different directions. And then she bit my leg. Hard.
"Bitch," I screamed.
I thrust my spear into her at the base of the neck, down into her chest. She froze a second, glaring at me, and then died. The other two were almost upon me. Kicking her off, I scrambled to my feet and raced between them. They were quickly on my heels, chasing me out to the street. And I ran into two more.
"Is it raining zombies or something?" I muttered as I quickly checked my leg.
Thank God the skin wasn't broken. Could I be turned by a bite through my clothes? What about scratches from their nails? We didn't know nearly enough about them, but if I was infected then I'd already be changing.
I slashed one with the sharp knife blade on the end of my spear, spilling his guts onto the street. He slipped in his own intestines, while I turned and speared one of the following zombies in the heart.
He took my spear when he fell. I didn't have time to jerk it free, so took off running while pulling my machete. Two zombies pursued. Glancing back, I noticed the wounded zombie was already eating one of the dead. Three more zombies then jumped on the dead to feast.
Going downhill, I turned off the road and plunged into the dark, shadowy woods. Both zombies came in after me. I was waiting for them.
Hiding behind a tree, I let the first one pass by. He never even looked my way. I heard the second zombie following him. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, I jumped out from behind the tree. She stopped in surprise, and I swung my machete before her simple mind processed what she saw. I failed to take her head completely off, but severing the spine was enough. She dropped like a rock, and I put my foot on her chest to help pry my machete free.
Here came the first one charging through the woods.
"Stay away from me," I snarled, pulling the machete free and immediately swinging at the incoming zombie. I missed. Swung too soon. He plowed into my side a half second later. "Uggh! Jerkoff."
He grabbed my left boob in an excruciating hold, fingers digging in brutally. His other hand was holding my machete hand's wrist. I drove my knee into his chest three times, as hard and fast as I could. That knocked him back a few steps, but he pulled me along. His grips on my wrist and boob only tightened.
"I'm going to cut off your head and shove it up your ass!"
I twisted to get a better angle, and then brought my elbow down on the arm holding my boob. That ripped his hand away. I followed that with a rabbit punch to the throat, which made him started to gurgle. Then I ducked under his under arm to break his hold on my wrist. The zombie bashed me aside. I bounced off a tree, fell to my knees, and swung the machete blindly.
My blade struck his right shin, and he dropped next to me.
The zombie was effectively crippled. I was able to move away from him and listen for more of them. When I didn't hear any more zombies coming after me, I moved in and killed the last one. Even crippled, he was a threat to any living creature, so I couldn't just leave him behind.
Remaining in the woods, with the road barely visible through the trees, I continued downhill. When the road dead-ended into another road, I turned uphill and followed that road. It was going in roughly the direction I needed to return my friends. And then I spotted it.
"A camper?"
It wasn't just any kind of camper. It was a Class A bus. It was just parked there in the middle of the road. The EMP probably killed it. The former owners left the driver's door unlocked.
I checked it out. A zombie passed by while I was inside. He didn't even look at the camper. Maybe they'd already marked it as empty. Then I wondered if they could communicate with each other. I didn't see how, yet they moved in groups more often than not.
"Good question for wiser minds than mine."
The camper was one of the biggest I'd ever seen. We could get everyone inside, though it would be cramped. Also, it was parked on a slope, so that might make it uncomfortable to many. It was an option.
Mike came trotting down the road. I exited the side door and met him on the street.
"What do you think?" I asked. "There's a house around the corner, but I was attacked by zombies before I could see if it was empty. It's probably not a good choice, because there are zombies feeding on corpses on the street in front of it."
I decided to not mention the ass-kicking I took. I didn't want him and the others worrying about me. But, boy, was I aching.
"I like it," Mike said. "Every house I've found has broken doors and windows, so aren't safe. Let's head back and see if Greg found anything better."
Truth was, I was kind of lost. Mike returned to the group without hesitation and any sign of difficulty. He didn't even backtrack, but cut straight into the woods and to the trail. I found that amazing. We found Greg speaking with Sean, Terrel, and Brett.
"Did you find anything?" Sean asked.
"Jenny found a very large Class A camper," Mike said. "Every house I found was broken into, so couldn't be secured."
"The camper is really big," I said. "I think we can cram everyone inside. And while I was inside checking it out a zombie walked by without giving it a second look."
The latter seemed to convince them. We headed for it. The entire group took four times as long to travel the same distance as Mike and I had earlier. Full night was upon us by the time we reached it. It didn't take long to sort things out. Beds were filled with exhausted children, who fell asleep in record time. The parents and single adults found places to sit and rest. Soon the sound of snoring filled the camper.
I found myself standing outside with Sean and Mike. The others left the driver's and passenger's seats open. I was going to call shotgun, since the steering wheel would cramp my style. But Sean killed any dreams of a comfortable night.
"Looks like we're the only ones available to pull guard," he said.
"Jesus. You military types and your guard duty obsession," I replied. "Can I have last shift? I'm too tired right now."
Chapter 11
"Bingo," Charlie said.
I felt like we'd won the lottery. We rolled up on a marina full of boats off Shore Drive. The side street was mostly single family homes. Quinn led us to the marina, saying that most of the surrounding lakeside homes had docks with boats, too. If we couldn't find boats there, then we might as well give up.
The marina consisted of a launch ramp, store, and three piers with covered boat stalls. Two of the boat docks were huge, with lots of boats.
There were a dozen or so zombies searching the place and surrounding homes, but nothing we couldn't handle. Half of them were still on the road. We were practically surrounded by water, which acted as barriers to cross country walkers.
"Let's try to use our machetes," I said.
"Why?" Quinn asked.
"Noise attracts them." I was pretty sure we'd discussed it before. I gave the surrounding homes
a wary look. No telling who or what was hiding inside them. "Take the wheel, Quinn. Charlie and I will take care of the zombies."
Charlie and I got out about fifty feet from the zombies still on the road. They were already coming at us, eyes wild with unholy fury. We pulled our machetes as Quinn moved up to the driver's seat.
"You mean z-bees," Charlie replied.
"No, Roger is right," Quinn said. "Z-bee is stupid. Just say zombie."
"Et tu, Quinn?"
We moved forward to close with the zombies. "You can call them walkers, or shamblers, or we can even pretend we're Vietnam vets and call the Charlie."
"You, sir, are hilarious," Charlie said, but shook his head. "What about dead meat?"
They were on us. We both swung our machetes. Neither of us killed anything, but a few fingers were lost off reaching hands. I ducked under the zombie's arms, whacking him above the knee as I passed. I think I broke his leg. At least it felt more like a break, instead of slicing though the bone. He went down, so that was good enough for me.
"We need something better than machetes," Charlie called. "These cheap-ass things bend too fast and easy."
I agreed, but true swords were kind of rare in America. Sean had one, the lucky bastard. I wondered if Sean was a zombie apocalypse prepper. He had a lot of guns, ammo, and a sword.
Two zombies lurched at me side-by-side. They were too close to use my machete, so I dropped it and grabbed the first hand to come into reach. Turning and thrusting out my hip, I tossed the zombie over onto the ground. The other grabbed me.
"You need help?" Charlie asked.
That was the last of the zombies in that group. I went all crazy on his ass. He was so intent on biting me, I was able to twist and drive an elbow into the side of his head. The zombie fell back a step, allowing me to kick him in the jaw. That laid him out flat on his back.
"Did you kill him with a kick, or just knock him out?" Quinn asked.
Taking up my dropped machete, I moved up closer and noticed his chest rising and falling. So zombies could be knocked out. Not sure why I was surprised, since they were still living humans. Then he sat up, and I swung my blade hard and fast, splitting his head in two.
"Man, we have so much blood on us we look like zombies," Charlie said.
Charlie and I walked ahead of the Jeep as we entered the marina's parking lot. There were half a dozen pickups with empty boat trailers there, and a few other cars and trucks. The store was across open ground, closer to the water but off to one side.
"I'm hungry," I said. "Let's check out the store first."
"No thank you," Quinn muttered.
He looked a little sick. Sometimes I forgot it could take a little while to get used to all the killing, blood, and guts. Nice, middle-class Americans only saw stuff like that on TV and movies. In real life, up close and personal, it was much different.
"Might not be much left," Charlie said, starting to walk toward it. "I see smashed out windows, so it might already be looted."
First we'd have to deal with the rest of the zombies. They were scattered all around, but all headed toward us.
"This reminds me of the ZZ Top song, Sharp Dressed Man," Charlie said. "They all come a-running for a sharp dressed man." He grinned at me. "Only now it's, they all come a-running for a machete wielding man."
"You're weirder than Mike sometimes."
"Post Apocalypse Stress Disorder, man."
"Anything you say, man."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Of course."
The next wave of zombies was almost upon us. There were more than I original estimated. Charlie and I quickly found ourselves being pushed back by the onslaught.
"Screw it," I shouted. "Light 'em up!"
We dropped our machetes, lifted the M-4s strapped across our chests, and opened fire. Using single shots, we quickly killed them all. Point blank range. Even in the fading light it was almost impossible to miss.
"Well, that was not fun," Charlie said. "We better hurry before the next horde arrives."
We trotted over to the marina store. Quinn drove off the pavement and parked as close to the front door as he could. The front door was smashed open. We went in to find it cleaned out of food and drinks. I didn't even find a single piece of candy. But we did find maps of the area and the lake. It was Chickamauga Lake, and we found a map of the Tennessee River and lakes all of the way to Knoxville.
"Holy crap, this map says the lake is fifty-eight miles long," Charlie said. "It's like a Great Lake."
"Yeah, but it's not very wide," Quinn said. "I've fished on it all my life."
Basically, they dammed the Tennessee River and created a long, serpentine lake through the mountains. It worked for our purposes. I've found traveling by water much safer, though not as fast, than going cross country.
"Okay, Quinn, we need to find enough boats to carry at least fifty or sixty people," I said. "Johnboats, ski boats, anything but jet skis."
"I'm thinking pontoon boats," Charlie added. "But a jet ski would be sweet."
Most of the boats were missing keys. Some overly trusting boat owners left the keys in the ignition. Weird, but it wasn't the first time I'd seen it. There was a huge houseboat. Quinn headed straight for it, kicking in the door. I thought about stopping him, but let him dream. It was unlikely something that new would start, if he found the keys.
And then I heard the engine turn over.
"He started it," Charlie said, looking as incredulous as I felt.
"It's too big," I said. "It'll never make it all the way to Watts Bar Damn," I said. The lake only went so far, and then we'd be boating on the Tennessee again. I wasn't sure how deep the river was up there, but didn't think a houseboat could navigate it. "But I'll defer to the group if they want it."
I would argue against it.
"We hit the jackpot," Quinn called upon coming back out.
"Turn it off," I said. "We need to conserve gas."
"Full tanks," he said, but went back in to kill the engine.
When he came back out, I had him continue checking out boats. We also began collecting any gas tanks and gas cans we found. The more gas we could collect, the better. Charlie found a cabin cruiser that started, and it had quite a bit of food already stowed away. That was a better option than the larger, harder to maneuver houseboat.
In all, we found eight gas tanks for outboard motors, two large boats that ran, and two johnboats. The other boats either didn't have keys or wouldn't start. There were remarkable few boats with outboard motors. Even the ski boats were all inboards. Not a pontoon boat to be found, which was my first choice, too.
By that time it was pitch black. Quinn was edgy, wanting to return to his family. I wanted to find a way to siphon gas out of the big boats, but understood his worry. So we headed back to Ocoee, stopping at three stores on the way before we found any food to take back with us.
"Where the hell have you been?" Yancy screamed when we pulled up. "I thought you were dead."
Quinn hurried to his wife, trying to calm her down. They moved back into the church to argue, while Charlie and I carried the food in. Yancy had setup a table and chairs near the door. Their kids were sitting around it, but their parents were deeper inside the church. I could hear Yancy, sounding very angry, but couldn't make out her words. That was probably a good thing. We dumped the food on the table and gave the kids food and bottled waters. They devoured it.
"I think we got your daddy in trouble," I said and winked at Aishley.
"Yep," she said, nodding vigorously. "Mommy is pissed. She was crying before y'all got back."
"She doesn't like me very much, does she?"
"Nope," she said. Then smiled. "I like you."
I grinned at her. "I like you better."
"No you don't."
The girls giggled, which ended when Yancy returned. Quinn followed her, looking beaten down. She glared at me, but barely gave Charlie a second look. Yancy herded her kids away and vanished. Quinn remain
ed behind, looking sheepish.
"She wants to sleep in a separate room," he said. "Nothing personal."
"No problem. Charlie and I will bed down here," I said. I indicated the table. Yancy's pistol and the keys to all three vehicles were on it, along with the food. "You might want to take her weapon to her. Which brings up guard duty."
"Guard duty?"
"Yes. I think each adult should take one shift," I said. There wasn't anything I could do if they refused. "If you want, Charlie and I will take the first two shifts. Or you and your wife can, which will allow you to sleep a more normal sleep schedule."
Since it was after 10 PM, I worked out four, two hour shifts. Quinn chose the first and second shifts for them, leaving the last two for me and Charlie. I was fine with that.
"Okay, so Yancy will be guard to midnight, and then wakes you. You wake me at 2 AM, and I'll wake Charlie at 4 AM," I said. "That way we can start looking for our families and friends after sunrise."
He agreed. It was all cut and dry, except the finding Jenny and the other families part. If they didn't show up tomorrow, I didn't know what I'd do.
Chapter 12
Someone poked my shoulder, and then did it again. My eyes popped open, and a dark shape moved away. Panic consumed me for a second, until I heard a familiar voice whispering.
"Sean, it's Jenny," she said. "It's time for your shift."
My heart was racing wildly. Jenny watched me with big eyes. She was married to a war vet, so understood the danger. I struggled to calm down and regain my wits. It's been years since I'd served in a war zone, but sometimes it felt like yesterday.
"I'm good," I gasped out, hands tight around my rifle. "Just give me a sec."
She nodded, and then crawled back to the front of the bus. All three of us elected to sleep on top of the camper. We agreed to pull our watch up front, and downhill. The roof was slippery, so we had to crawl. I know, since I slipped and fell off the first time I walked up front to check it out.
Jenny pulled first watch, while Mike had last. I took the middle shift so they'd each get uninterrupted sleep. Since it was just the three of us, we decided on three hour shifts, or one shift each. That should take us to sunrise.