Ken nodded and started to dial through the various channels. There was only static and silence. Ken turned up the sound and listened intently.
“There has to be someone out there, right?”
“Not if everyone is dead,” Lenore answered.
“Maybe we’re not in range yet.” Ken’s face wrinkled with worry as he continued to skip through the channels.
Cher finally ceased yowling, much to Lenore’s relief. Casting her gaze back and forth between the two sides of the road, she was relieved to see nothing stirring in the overgrown fields.
“Where do you think those zombies came from?” Ken asked.
Lenore shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe from a farm. Or a road. A town. It’s been a month and a half. They could have just been walking, looking for someone to eat.” The engine was starting to pull uncomfortably and Lenore studied the gas gage. It was technically on empty. Did that mean they had a few more gallons or was this morning about to turn really sour?
The static hissed and whined as Ken continued to turn the dial.
“Do you think they can smell us or something?”
Lenore snorted. “From miles away? I think they just got lucky.”
“I guess. I’m just glad they didn’t show up when...” He faltered. “We really dropped our guard.”
“Yeah. We ain’t doing that again.” Lenore pressed on the accelerator a little harder, feeling it starting to resist. They were going to need a miracle and fast.
A voice sizzled out of the static just before Ken flipped to another channel.
“Go back!”
“Did you hear it?” Ken squealed.
“Go back!”
Fingers shaking, Ken carefully turned the dial backward, both of them listening intently.
“...run was pretty successful. We’re heading back now,” a man’s voice said.
“Things are clear here, so just head to the gate,” a woman’s voice answered.
“What do I do?” Ken gasped.
“Call them, idiot!” Lenore snatched the mouthpiece off the dash and tossed it to him. The engine was feeling even more sluggish now. She fervently whispered prayers in her mind.
Pressing down the button, Ken said, “Uh, hello?”
“What was that, Ed?” the woman’s voice asked.
“I didn’t say nothin’, Peggy,” Ed answered.
“Uh, hi. I’m Ken. Who are you? Hi,” Ken said.
Lenore hit him.
“What?”
Lenore glowered.
“Hey, there, Ken,” the woman’s voice said pleasantly enough. “I don’t think we’ve talked before. Where you calling from?”
“An RV.”
Lenore hit him again.
“An RV? Y’all are out there driving around?”
“We were camping, but Grandma died and then zombies showed up and--oww!” Ken rubbed his arm. “What?”
“Find out where they are!” Lenore shouted at him.
“You okay, Ken?”
“Yeah. I just...yeah. I’m fine. So, me and my best friend are out here and there are zombies.” Ken flattened himself against the door trying to avoid Lenore’s fist.
“My name is Peggy and I’m the city secretary here in Ashley Oaks. You looking for a place to hole up?”
“Yeah. We’re low on gas and food and I think there are more zombies...” Ken’s voice faded out.
Lenore slowed the RV as the farm road came into view. The brake felt hard under her foot. They were running out of time. Then her heart nearly came to a stop as she saw what awaited them on the road.
“Ken?” the woman’s voice said through the white noise of the CB.
“Uh, there are zombies,” Ken said in a frightened voice. “A lot of them.”
A crowd of zombies shambled along the road toward them. As the RV neared the turnoff, the zombie moans swelled in anticipation.
“Where are you?” Peggy asked, her voice calm, but urgent.
Ken fumbled with the map. “Uh, uh...farm road 1226. It’s on the way to Emorton.”
“Are you close to Emorton?”
“No, uh, we’re near some farm. I can see the house from here.”
Lenore turned onto the farm road, the steering wheel fighting her.
“A big blue and white house with a red barn?”
“Yeah,” Ken answered, his gaze riveted to the zombie mass in the rearview mirror.
“Okay, this is how you get to where we are...” Peggy started to ramble off directions, but Lenore had stopped listening.
The engine sputtered and died.
“Ask them if they can come get us,” Lenore said sourly as Ken’s eyes widened.
Three hundred yards behind the RV, the zombies moaned hungrily.
23.
Parade of the Dead
Ken felt like someone had punched him in the chest. He couldn’t breathe and he was sure his heart had stopped. Cher started yowling again and the nice lady on the CB was saying something, but nothing registered in his brain but the moans of the dead that were stumbling toward the stalled RV.
They were going to die.
Lenore snatched the mouthpiece out of his hand. “We’re out of gas and time. There is a bunch of them heading our way.”
In shock, Ken turned and stared at his cat in her carrier. She was hissing and growling, her back arched and her fur on end.
“Slow ones. Real slow. There is no way the RV is gonna hold up though. We got a busted door,” Lenore’s voice answered the woman’s questions.
Her words gradually sunk through the numbness encompassing Ken’s mind. Sliding off his seat, he tottered to the counter where the crowbar lay. He picked it up and grabbed Cher’s carrier. The weight in his hands drew him slowly out of his fog into reality.
Lenore hauled herself out of the driver’s seat. Her chubby face set with grim determination, she hurried past Ken, snatching up a hunting knife and shoving it into her hoodie pocket. Out the back window Ken could see the zombies gaining on the RV.
“What are we going to do?” Ken whispered, forcing words out of his constricted throat. His voice quivered with his distress.
“Start walking,” Lenore answered. Her voice was low and tense.
“We can’t! They’ll...they’ll...” Ken felt tears in his eyes. He thought of Mr. Cloy and the dead town they had escaped. He didn’t want to die like that.
“We can, Ken. Those bastards are slow. We can outpace them. We just need to stay ahead of them. That lady on the CB is sending people to save us. We gotta move.” Lenore searched around for anything else she could use as a weapon.
Ken couldn’t stop staring at the mass of mutilated and gore covered people marching toward the RV. “Can’t we just hide in here?”
“That door is gonna give out,” Lenore said, pointing to the side door. “We’ll be dead by the time those people get here.” She cast one long look out the back window, scrutinizing the crowd. “They’re slow. See?”
“But...but...” Ken faltered as Lenore gave him a dark look. then brushed past him.
She didn’t take the side door, but crawled over the passenger seat instead. Ken followed, his legs wobbly and unsure. Cher hissed angrily, her weight shifting constantly in the carrier. Handing the carrier to Lenore, Ken slid over the seat. His feet dangling out of the RV, he froze. He could smell the dead. They were that close.
“Ken, move it,” Lenore ordered.
“I can’t!” Ken wailed. Panicking, he grabbed for the carrier. He and Cher would hide inside. It would be safer than walking ahead of a zombie parade.
Lenore swung the cat out of his reach and snagged his wrist. With one swift jerk, she hauled him out of the RV. His feet twisted under him as he landed on the hot asphalt, and he fell to his knees. Tiny pebbles bit into his hands and knees. Looking up, he saw the dead were even closer. Their moans were growing in volume at the sight of the living flesh.
Another hard yank drew him to his feet. Lenore dragged him along as she set a q
uick pace away from the RV and the horde of undead. “C’mon, Ken. Keep moving. I don’t want to die today.”
Ken struggled to make his feet and legs work. He kept tripping and stumbling as the slap of many feet against the asphalt mingled with the constant groans of the zombies.
“Don’t look behind us,” Lenore commanded sternly. “Just keep walking.”
“I don’t want to die,” Ken wailed.
“Then keep walking.” Lenore glanced behind them, but her dark eyes did not betray any emotion other than agitation.
After a few minutes he got his limbs to start working correctly and found the rhythm that matched Lenore’s steady pace. She handed him Cher. The cat hissed and growled angrily.
Lenore stole another look behind them. She lifted one eyebrow.
“What is it?” Ken asked, not daring to take a peek.
“Some of them must have thought there are people in the RV. They already have the side door open,” Lenore answered.
Ken felt his bowels churn as he envisioned himself trapped with Cher inside the RV. “Thank you, Lenore,” he whispered, chastened by his earlier behavior.
“I ain’t going to let you die,” Lenore vowed. “So keep walking. They’re following, but we got some distance now.”
The sun blazed hot as it continued its ascent across the blue morning sky. The asphalt grew warmer beneath their feet and the sun’s rays burned against his head and shoulders. Sweat trickled down his face and rolled between his shoulder blades. Lenore’s face was dotted with beads of sweat. He knew she was fit for her size and her pace was brisk.
The zombie moans echoed through the Texas Hill Country. The RV had stalled on a flat stretch, but the road was slowly curving upward. Ken started to feel the burn in his calves and he wished he had kept up some sort of exercise routine when they had been in hiding. Lenore kept her strides quick and sure, occasionally glancing behind her.
Ken dared to look.
The zombies were not faltering in their pursuit. Their twisted forms jerked strangely as they followed on mutilated and broken legs. A few were limping badly and straggled along at the back of the pack. Their faces and exposed skin were darkened from exposure and their tattered clothes were covered in dried blood. Broken and stained teeth gnashed in torn faces. Claw-like hands dug at the air as if the creatures were trying to scrabble their way to Ken and Lenore. They were between seventy-five and a hundred yards back, but the distance felt miniscule.
Now he understood what it meant to be so scared you felt like you were going to shit your pants. Never had he wanted to go to the toilet so bad. His intestines were cramping and he felt sick to his stomach.
Lenore reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Just keep walking, Tigger.”
It was her nickname for him when she was trying to be supportive.
“Okay, Eeyore,” he whispered.
The climb up the hill was beginning to tire him. He felt the cramps in his abdomen growing worse and his legs were starting to really burn. If Lenore was in distress, she wasn’t showing it. He hadn’t noticed when she had drawn the revolver, but it was in her hand now. They didn’t have that many bullets left. Ken had wasted so many of them on that one lone zombie. He felt like an idiot all over again.
“I’m glad Grandma isn’t here,” Lenore said at last.
“Me, too.”
The older woman would have never made it at this pace and they would have had to leave her behind. No, Ken thought sadly, they would have had to kill her so she wouldn’t have been eaten alive.
The top of the hill grew closer and he tried to set markers in his mind. He just had to make it to the next oak tree. To the next clump of wildflowers. To the next utility pole.
Lenore glanced at their pursuers again. Shaking her head, she struggled to increase their walking speed. Ken realized they had been slowing down as they walked uphill. The zombies didn’t feel pain or discomfort. They were not going to slow down or get tired.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the mob was gaining on them. They had probably closed the gap only by a few yards, but they suddenly seemed a lot closer.
“Keep walking. Those people should be here soon,” Lenore urged.
As they crested the top of the hill, Ken saw the road had a long curve down into a valley. The area was heavily forested with oak and cedar trees. A few houses were tucked near the top of the flanking hills.
Starting downward, their momentum picked up. Ken felt relief until he realized that the zombies would also increase in pace. Shifting Cher’s carrier to his other hand, he took several deep breaths. With the zombies yet to reach the top of the hill, the air was a lot cleaner.
“Lenore, if...” His voice caught in his throat.
“Don’t say it,” Lenore said gruffly.
“If they reach us first, please...”
“Don’t say it!”
“After you kill me, please let Cher out of her carrier. Maybe she can make it out here. Maybe she can hunt or...” Tears began to choke him.
“Shut up!” Lenore shouted at him. “You’re not going to die out here, you stupid asshole. I’ll never let you die! As long as you are with me, they will never get you! Do you fuckin’ understand me?”
Gazing into her dark flashing eyes, Ken believed her. Her vow was his lifeline. Grabbing onto it emotionally, he felt hope begin to drive away his fear. They were together. They had survived so much. Help was on the way. Together they would survive.
Lenore must have seen the new resolve in his eyes for she gave him a rare smile. “Stupid faggot.”
“Hag bitch,” he answered and grinned.
The zombie was upon them before he registered its presence. Hurtling out of the trees, it was a blur of screaming bloody flesh. Lenore fired, the shot echoing through the valley. The bullet hit the creature in the shoulder, flipping it around. It regained its balance and charged again, closing the gap between it and the living. Lenore took a breath, steadied her grip and fired just as it was about to sink its teeth into her outstretched hand. The bullet punched through its skull and it fell. Lenore jumped out of its way and the body crashed at her feet.
The second zombie emerged from the trees just as its companion fell. A woman; her skirt was a frayed bloody mess around chewed-up legs. It wasn’t as fast as the first one, but she surged toward Lenore and Ken.
Lenore fired.
The zombie collapsed just as another zombie appeared behind her. Then another.
“Keep walking!” Lenore ordered Ken, firing at the zombies.
His grip tight on the carrier handle and the crowbar, Ken obeyed, understanding that she was right.
Lenore took down the zombies, then ran after him to catch up. Huffing, she struggled to reload the revolver.
“Six left,” she muttered.
Ken glanced over his shoulder. The zombie parade was over the top of the hill and had gained on them. The dead were upwind, so Ken could barely smell them over the reek of gunpowder.
Cher was quiet now and he took a quick peek at her. She was cowering in the corner of her carrier, growling softly, afraid of the gunshots.
“You blew those assholes away,” Ken said proudly to Lenore. He tucked the crowbar under his arm and shifted Cher to his other hand.
“I don’t fuck around,” Lenore replied as she finished reloading the gun.
Hurrying, trying to put more distance between them and the horde behind them, Ken and Lenore held hands.
24.
Salvation
Lenore’s heart was beating so fast it hurt. She was trying not to show Ken her stark fear. The poor guy had looked ready to shit himself more than once already. Every muscle in her body was aching and she was developing a serious cramp in her side. Each step she took was painful now. Her hand and arm were in serious pain from the shots she had fired. The kick hadn’t been that bad, but she had tensed too much.
She didn’t want to look behind her, but she couldn’t help herself. The zombies were closing in f
aster than she thought they would. They were probably fifty yards behind them now. Time was running out, but she refused to believe that their lives would end on this road.
Ken’s hand was damp, but she didn’t want to let it go. Knowing he was with her was comforting even if he was a big ol’ wimp. If she was going to die today, at least it was with someone she genuinely loved. He was the biggest pain in her ample ass, but he was a loyal friend.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Ken exclaimed.
Returning her gaze to the road ahead, Lenore saw two cars mangled together in a terrible wreck at the sharpest point in the curve. One of the vehicles was a burned out shell. It was hard to tell when the accident had happened. The victims could have burned in the wreckage, or maybe they were the ones who had attacked. The world was so fucked up it was hard to say.
“Just keep calm and keep moving,” Lenore instructed in a rough voice.
Ken let go of her hand and shifted the carrier from one hand to the other before gripping the crowbar. “Lenore, zombies...”
From around the smashed SUV a small cluster of zombies stepped into view. Their bodies were broken and terribly mutilated. Two appeared to have burned in the car. They were blackened husks.
Lenore’s heart sped up while her lungs were strangled by vice grips as she raised the revolver. Setting her feet apart, she stopped and took aim. She had six bullets and five zombies.
The first shot missed them all. Sweat and tears blurred her vision and she blinked her eyes rapidly to clear her sight. She couldn’t think about the zombies behind her gaining as she stood and fired at the ones before her. The next shot sent a zombie to the ground, but it slowly climbed to its feet. Beginning to panic, she tried to aim more accurately, but it only allowed the zombies to stumble closer. Pulling the trigger, she felt her arm go numb. Another zombie fell and stayed down. She fired until the gun clicked empty.
Three zombies were still advancing on them as a fourth crawled.
“I’m not dying today,” Lenore said through gritted teeth and yanked the crowbar out of Ken’s hands.
3.2 As the World Dies Untold Tales Vol. 2 Page 14