Kelly showed no reaction to the words other than a heavy sigh as he pulled into the driveway of the gas station. Instead of pulling up to the first pump, he drove around to the side of the small convenience store where there was a row of pumps that were not under a canopy as the others. It was obviously designed for large vehicles.
As if sensing the curiosity of those around him, Kelly said, “This row of pumps has a clear shot back to the street, just in case we need to get out of here in a hurry.” Without saying anything else, he jumped out of the van and started walking toward the store.
“Taylor, you stay here with Christina,” Lawrence commanded before opening his door and leaving.
I nodded to Taylor as I headed out the back door of the van.
“Okay then, I’ll just stay here with Christina,” Taylor said to no one.
I trotted to catch up with Lawrence. “Not sure what makes this place so special,” I said to show him my agreement with what he had said.
Instead of giving some response that I expected, the detective shushed me and put a finger to his lips. I felt the irritation rising up inside but stayed quiet. A moment later, I saw Kelly squatting below the big front window of the store.
“I heard some noise inside,” he whispered as
we squatted down next to him.
Lawrence took his gun from his pants and stood up slowly to get a look inside. After a few seconds, he lowered himself back to our level. “I don’t see any--” The crash of something falling inside the store cut off his words.
None of us moved as we waited for the next sound. After a minute of nothing, the three of us raised up trying to catch a glimpse of what had caused the noise. Other than the store having no power and the glass in some of the cooler doors being smashed out, everything looked normal.
“Well, I guess there’s no sense waiting,” Lawrence said as he strolled over to the door.
Kelly and I looked at one another, took our guns out, and followed him into the store.
The silence of the little place made it clear how much sound normally fills a convenience store. From the constant whirring of refrigerator motors to the hum of fluorescent lights to the swoosh of cash register drawers, sound is a constant presence. But here it was silent and still.
To get our attention, Lawrence waved and pointed to the floor. A huge puddle of blood glistened in front of the checkout counter. From the left side of the puddle, a trail of smeared blood led to the back of the store. We crept along the trail bracing ourselves for what we might find.
It did not take long. In a corner near the cooler doors surrounded by fallen cases of soft drinks was the shell of a small Middle Eastern man. It would be more accurate to say what was left of the shell of a small Middle Eastern man. Despite appearing to have been torn in two, the shell continued to thrash around and grab hold of anything within reach. The shell’s movement became more frantic after we came into view. Blood splattered everywhere, especially just below the waste where the shell ended in a tangled mess of flesh and organs. Although its legs were missing, that did not stop the shell from trying to stand. It climbed up the side of the wall as if it did not realize that there was nothing there to support it. The result was that the torso would move up the wall as far as it could and then slide back down to the floor, leaving a streak of blood and pieces of flesh.
“Do you think that’s the only one?” I whispered.
Lawrence shrugged as he stepped carefully closer to the shell. The broken glass from the soft drink bottles crunched beneath his feet. Under normal circumstances, the sound would not have drawn much attention. But these were not even close to normal circumstances. In the silent store, the crunch of glass sounded like a roar.
The torso’s movement stopped immediately, and its gaze froze upon Lawrence. He had been looking down at the floor and was surprised to find himself the object of the thing’s attention. A long time seemed to pass as the two of them simply staring at each other, but it was probably only a few seconds in reality. The crash from inside the cooler shattered the eye contact.
A moment later a tall, thin shell of a Middle Eastern woman came stumbling out of one of the cooler doors. Kelly and I were still standing near the counter about twenty feet from the cooler. The shell was on top of Lawrence before he knew what happened.
Before I had even managed to move, Kelly was next to Lawrence pulling the shell off of him. In the same instant that I got there, Kelly put his gun next to the shell’s head and fired. For the second time in my life, a gun fired near my head left me unable to hear any sound other than a loud buzzing.
I stumbled back a few feet. Clearly, my companions did not realize that my hearing had been taken from me. I looked up to find them both moving their lips in what appeared to be excited speech. All I could do was shake my head and try to clear my ears of the ringing.
Unfortunately, the shaking did not help to restore my hearing and only made me feel dizzy. When I stopped shaking my head, I looked up once again.
This time I found two guns pointed at me. Behind the guns, both Kelly and Lawrence appeared to be shouting and gesturing angrily at me. I expected the guns to go off, sending their bullets into me at any second. For some reason, I felt strangely calm. Then again, calm might not be the best way to describe my feeling. It was more like I was absent of fear and simply curious.
The only thing in my mind was a question; what did I do to make them so angry?
A second later, the guns roared. At least, I assumed they roared. I did not hear them, but rather I felt them fire. It all took place in slow motion like straight out of some B-grade crime flick. Flames shot out of the barrels of the pistols and the bullets flew across the room toward me. The air seemed thick and warm. I felt the sting of one bullet as it nicked my shoulder and the other as it whizzed by my ear.
I felt a wild laugh burst from my throat at the crazy notion that both bullets had missed, and then Kelly and Lawrence were rushing toward me. I turned to run away. That is when I discovered something behind me.
I immediately ran straight into the chest of a large Middle Eastern man, or rather the chest of a shell of a Middle Eastern man. I was more surprised than anyone that the shell simply fell to the floor as I hit it. In fact, I nearly fell with it. As I looked down at the shell, I saw the bullet holes in its chest and forehead. All of a sudden, I realized that Kelly and Lawrence had not been shooting at me but at the thing behind me.
Lawrence looked at me and moved his mouth.
I answered by yelling, “I can’t hear you. The gun fire messed up my ears.”
Lawrence nodded and, for the second time that day, put his finger to his lips to quiet me. This time the gesture did not make me angry. Instead, I actually smiled.
The detective closely watched my expression with some curiosity. I am sure he must have been wondering just what I could find to smile about after such a terrible experience. I tried to explain it to him.
“I thought you guys were going to shoot me!”
Kelly walked back from the corner where the torso had been thrashing around.
They looked at me as if I were insane.
After a minute or so, the sound started to come back. I could hear the words they were saying.
“In case you dudes don’t know it, ain’t no way to pump the gas without power,” Kelly said, sounding more than a little condescending. “This is the reason why we came here instead of some bigger station.” He pulled back a sliding door at the rear of the store to reveal a large closet containing a newer-looking white generator.
The sight of the generator made me feel like a complete idiot. Of course, we needed to go to a station that had a generator. I had not even considered this fact. I looked over at Lawrence to see him grinning as if he was feeling much like I was.
“Damn, Kelly, I’m sorry for ever doubting you,” Lawrence said. “I never even thought about needing power.”
Kelly smiled without humor and said, “Well, let’s get this thing fired up
so we can get the gas and over to the supply store before we attract too many of those…” He looked over at me and grinned before continuing, “Before we attract to many of those shells.”
All at once, Christina screamed. We rushed to the front window to see three shells shuffling around the van. One of them was pounding on the side. We could see Christina and Taylor frantically looking out of the side window.
Lawrence watched and muttered, “The gunshots must’ve attracted ‘em,”
“We’ve got to find a quiet way to kill them,” I commented.
“This worked pretty well,” Kelly said as he walked over and pulled a screwdriver out of the
head of the shell in the corner. “Quiet and fast.” He walked over and set the bloody screwdriver on the counter.
Lawrence looked at the tool for a moment and then replied, “Yeah, but you gotta get up close and personal.”
Christina screamed again.
“The first thing we hafta do is get the little princess to mellow out,” Kelly said. “If she keeps screaming her head off like that, every one of those things within a mile is going to be on top of us.”
I expected Lawrence to at least give Kelly a glare and a warning not to talk about Christina like that, but he simply opened the door and walked outside.
I glanced over at Kelly to find him grinning like an idiot.
Lawrence walked quickly to the side of the store near the van. Christina could be seen in the window. He waved until Christina waved back. She left the window for a moment and returned with Taylor. The little girl pressed her finger against the window to point to Lawrence. Taylor saw him and waved back. The detective then put his finger to his lips. I had to smile at the realization that the gesture must be one of Lawrence’s favorites. Both Christina and Taylor nodded to show they understood. He waved again to the van, and they returned the wave. However, this time Taylor waved with his other hand. In that hand, he was holding a pistol.
“Oh shit! Where did the kid get a gun?” I asked as I walked up next to Lawrence.
“I don’t know. He musta grabbed it outta one of the bags,” Kelly said.
“You had fuckin’ guns in the van, and you fuckin’ didn’t tell anybody?” Lawrence hissed.
“Hey, I didn’t figure I’d have a bunch of kids hanging out in my van!” He hissed back.
“If he starts shooting, those shells are going to swarm in here,” I said.
Lawrence gave me a look that said no shit and then turned back to the van. He walked quickly toward the van and behind a short, pudgy shell near the back door and plunged the screwdriver into the back of its head. The shell collapsed immediately to the ground.
He then moved behind the next shell, a muscular black shell in shorts and a bloody green t-shirt. This time the screwdriver did not slide in as easily, and the shell spun around to face him before crumbling down. The result was that the screwdriver popped out of Lawrence’s hand. The remaining shell, a heavy black shell in a light blue halter top and short black miniskirt that was way too small, was drawn away from the van by the nearby movement.
Lawrence was trying to turn the body around to get at the screwdriver when the shell reached him.
Fortunately, I reached him at the same time. My gun was the only weapon I had, so I brought the butt of it down on the shells head as hard as I could. The impact made a dull thud. The blow was not enough to stop the shell, but it definitely changed its focus. It twisted around to see what had happened behind and saw me. I looked into its dead eyes and found nothing but coldness.
It moved toward me as I stumbled back. Then Lawrence was behind it. I heard a squishing sound as he plunged the screwdriver into the back of the head.
“Damn! These things move faster than I realized!” Kelly exclaimed.
Lawrence turned toward him and started to say something but then stopped.
“You okay?” I asked. “You didn’t get bit or anything, did you?”
“No, I’m alright. I was just thinking that this was second time in a matter of minutes you guy had to save my ass.” Lawrence looked incredibly tired.
Before he could say anymore, Christina was calling to him from the backdoor of the van. “Lawrence! Lawrence, did you get hurt?”
The detective brightened at the sound of her voice. He walked to the back of the van and answered, “Of course, I’m not hurt. How about you?”
She shook her enthusiastically and let her long hair swing from side to side. “No, silly, I was inside the van with Taylor!”
He laughed and lifted her out of the van. Lawrence started to set her on the ground but then caught sight of the bodies nearby and held her in his arms. He looked up at Taylor in the van and asked, “You okay?”
“Sure. How about you?”
He smiled and said, “You oughta know it’s gonna take more than these creepy motherfu--… more than these creepy things to hurt me.” He looked at Christina and asked, “Right?”
“Right!” She answered with a giggle.
“Now, I need you guys to wait in the van for just a little bit more, okay?” He set Christina back in the van. “It’s still not safe out here.”
“Okay,” Taylor answered unenthusiastically.
As if it had just occurred to him, Lawrence asked, “Taylor, where’s that gun?”
The boy smiled proudly and turned to get it. He came back, holding the gun up.
“Give it to me,” Lawrence commanded.
The smile instantly disappeared, and he looked at Lawrence with disbelief. “Why? I know how to use it.”
“Give it to me,” he repeated.
“Why?” Taylor was trembling as he extended his arm to hand the gun to Lawrence. “I’m old enough to use it.” He sniffled, andI realized that the boy was crying.
Lawrence took the gun and said, “I’m not saying you’re not old enough. But if you start shooting, there’s a good chance you’ll shoot yourself or somebody else.” He looked over at Christina sitting happily on the couch. “Besides any gunshot is likely to call every one of those things right here.”
Taylor gave no response other than more sniffling.
“Okay, I’m just gonna wait outside here while you get the generator started for the gas,” Lawrence said to Kelly and me as well as to those in the van.
We turned and walked back to the store.
Once we were inside, Kelly said, “Don’t you get tired of taking orders from that pig?”
The question caught me by complete surprise, and I was not certain if he was being serious. When he turned to face me. it was clear that he was serious.
“I guess he can be pretty demanding some-times,” I replied. “But if it hadn’t been for Lawrence, I would have been dead more times than you know.”
Kelly shook his long gray hair and chuckled. “Dude, that’s just what all those bastards want you to think. To protect and to serve, right? But they don’t say they’re only protecting the man and only serving themselves!”
I tried not to laugh aloud at the hippie rant. “Well, I don’t know about any of that. All I know is staying alive these days has gotten a whole lot tougher, and the more people around to help the better.”
My answer did not appear to satisfy Kelly, but he nodded and walked over to the generator. He knelt down and unlatched the front panel.
“Lucky for us, this thing looks like it’s been taken care of,” he commented.
Kelly pushed a green button to his left, and the thing roared to life. In reality, it did not actually roar. The sound made by the generator was about the same as a car idling. But once again, the silence of the store serve to amplify all sound, and now the store was filled with light and sound. The sound was not only from the generator but also from the whirring of the cooler motor, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, the electronic beeping of the cash register, and the hiss of a small television behind the counter.
Kelly looked at me as if he was considering saying something but finally said nothing and just turned to lea
ve the store. I followed quickly after him as he walked to the gas pumps.
Lawrence was leaning against the back of the van talking to those inside. He stood up as Kelly approached.
“So we’ve got power,” the detective commented. “We oughta get this done before those things start coming.”
Kelly simply grunted in response as he pulled a hose one of the pumps.
“Taylor, hand me those gas cans!” Lawrence called through the door of the van.
The sound of banging around inside the van was clear. A moment later Lawrence took a few of the cans over to Kelly and unlashed the twine connecting them. I grabbed the next bundle of cans and carried them to the pumps. In a couple of minutes we had all fifteen gas can sitting around the pumps.
The maintenance man opened a can and started filling it. Just then the first of the shells appeared in the street a hundred yards away. Several others shuffled out from between the buildings across from us.
“They’re coming!” Taylor yelled from inside
the van.
We all looked up to see that the number of shells moving toward us had grown to about twenty.
“We need to get going!” Taylor yelled again.
“C’mon, Kelly!” Lawrence barked. “You need to go faster!”
Kelly’s entire body tensed at the words. He stopped moving as he glared at Kelly. “You think you can do it better, pig? Here!” He yanked the nozzle out of the can and tossed it at Lawrence’s feet.
With the handle locked in place, the gas continued to spray out and cover the detective’s shoes and pants.
“What the fuck, Kelly!” He screamed as he grabbed the nozzle to stop the flow of fuel. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
The thunderous laughter bursting out of Kelly’s mouth carried madness rather than happiness. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, and his voice was surprisingly calm. “Of course, I’m not trying to kill us. I’m just trying to kill you.”
Lawrence handed me the cans he was holding and turned to Kelly. I quickly took the cans to the van and went back for others. The smell of gasoline stung my eyes.
Surviving Amid the Zombies Page 3