American Revenant (Short Story ): Family

by Davis IV, John L.

  Amanda pulled her away, leaving the lone shoe behind in the grass that Tony had mown just before their world went dark.

  3

  Amanda ran, pulling her daughter behind her. She ran blindly for a time, distancing herself from her home which had been so easily invaded by the walking dead. She felt a dark violation in her heart, as if all the pleasant memories of the years in their home had instantly been replaced with horror.

  Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, Amanda realized she was nearing downtown Hannibal.

  In the distance she saw the twin headlights of a car. “Come on, Ellie.”

  Stopping in the middle of a dark intersection just over a block away, Amanda could see in the backwash of the headlights a man standing next to an old pickup truck. He held a backpack out in one hand, while gesturing defensively with the other.

  Amanda just watched, keeping Ellie to her right and slightly behind her. The man took a step backward, shaking his head, waving his free hand. The light struck the man just right, and she recognized her husband.

  Ellie looked up at Amanda when she heard her mother gasp and take a step forward. “Mommy, what’s wrong,” she whispered.

  “Shhh, baby,” Amanda whispered back, her heart beating fearfully in her chest. Still watching she saw a man hop out of the back of the truck, stepping toward her husband. The man was huge, and even in the glare of the light she could see his thick beard and large belly.

  Tony took another step back, nodding at the backpack in his outstretched hand. The man snatched it from his grasp, ignoring the zipper and tearing the bag open. Rifling through the bag, the big man threw everything he pulled out to the ground, then finding nothing of interest he tossed the bag itself.

  Amanda prayed silently while watching this exchange. She didn’t realize that the tightening grip of her daughter’s hand was the moment that Ellie recognized her father.

  The big man turned around to the cab of the truck, saying something to the man behind the wheel and shrugging his shoulders. Without turning back he drew a gun and fired two rounds into Tony’s chest.

  Ellie’s scream rang out high and sharp, “Daddy!”

  Amanda froze as the big bearded man turned his head slowly to look at them. She cannot see the evil smirk that tilts the man’s mouth sideways, but the jaunty set of his shoulders told her that he found the situation amusing. Taking several steps backward, she turned and ran as fast as she could without letting go of her daughter.

  Behind her she heard Tony screaming his last breaths. She didn’t look back when she heard several more bullets fired, then the sound of tires screeching on pavement. She knew the men in the truck were coming for her and her daughter.

  Amanda turned a corner, grabbing for the first door-handle she came to, pressing the thumb release several times. Screaming in frustration and desperation she moved on to the next door and the next. Finding each locked, the rapidly growing headlights behind them cast light in front, allowing her to see several undead appearing from around corners and behind cars, reacting to her screams.

  Turning again, Amanda, still pulling Ellie behind her, saw the mouth of an alleyway and ran for it, both the zombies and the vehicle still coming.

  Running down the alley, Amanda feared she was leading them both child into a trap, but she felt she had no other choice. There was nowhere else to go.

  She flicked on the flashlight for a moment, to help pick out a hiding spot, and clicked it off again. Turning from the alley into a small parking area behind one of the local businesses, Amanda pressed her back against the wall, sliding down low and pulling Ellie down beside her. She hoped the low bush next to them would provide enough concealment when the driver drove down the alleyway.

  Moments later mother and daughter heard the thud and wet smack of the truck striking bodies. Most likely the few zombies that had been following them. To Amanda’s surprise, brakes squealed, and headlights shone down the alley, but the truck came no further.

  Over the rumble of the engine and her own heart she heard a heavy thump and then footsteps. “He jumped out of the truck,” she thought, “he’s coming this way.”

  “Come on, we know you’re down there. Come out to plaaayyy!” His voice was dark, brutality soaking his words with menace.

  Amanda gently slipped her hand over Ellie’s mouth, letting her know to stay silent.

  “We promise we’ll save your daughter… for later.” The big man chuckled at his sick humor.

  Amanda trembled, fear and anger coursing through her veins. She did not know how, but she was certain she would never let this man take her or her daughter.

  The man’s tone suddenly shifted to intense rage. “Get out here!” He was about to take a step into the alley when another voice spoke up.

  “Come on Hammond, don’t go down there. Ham, you listening? That girl done split, and we don’t know what’s down there.”

  Ham turned to look at the old man driving the truck, his ever-present toothy grin dark yellow in the dim light. He looked back down the alley, “Yeah, we do.” Raising his pistol to the air, he fired off shot after shot, until the slide locked back, the magazine empty. “Have fun!” Ham called as he jumped up into the truck bed, suspension bouncing. He slapped the roof twice and tires squealed as the grinning driver floored the gas pedal.

  Alone in the darkness, crouching against the wall, mother and daughter drew each other close. Ellie’s tiny voice whispered, “Mom.”

  As the sounds of shuffling feet and low moans nearby reached her, Amanda flicked on the flashlight.

  Just a few feet away a small group of zombies shuffled toward where the sound of the gun had drawn them. The leading zombie, only two feet from them, lunged, hands grabbing at Amanda. She tried to scramble to her feet, but the weight of the undead forced her back into the wall, not letting her up.

  Both mother and daughter screamed as more zombies pressed in on them, their own numbers keeping any but the first from getting at Amanda. The flashlight fell from numbing fingers as she pressed her arm into the zombie’s neck, stopping the teeth mere inches from her face.

  Amanda’s other hand still gripped Ellie’s arm tightly, though she could feel the girl tugging as she tried to push back against the encroaching dead.

  A sudden sharp tug, her hand now holding air, Ellie’s scream rising above the din of moans and snarls. “MOMMY!” Amanda felt her world drop away as the girl was torn from her grasp.

  “ELLIE!” She screamed, still pushing against the zombie snapping at her face.

  Cries of “Mommy” came from the middle of the pack several feet away. Amanda’s heart sank even further when the screams became something other than words. Placing her now empty hand to the ground, preparing to push up and against the zombie, Amanda felt the hammer she had forgotten about. Gripping it tightly, her fingers turned white as she raised it high.

  The blow rocked the dead woman back half a step, allowing Amanda to push away. The creature fell forward, grabbing at her leg, holding her in place as she tried to get away, tried to reach her now silent daughter.

  “Ellie! I’m coming, baby, I’m coming!”

  Flipping her body over, Amanda pulled herself forward, kicking her leg in an attempt to free herself from the grip of the dead.

  The zombie held tight, fierce in its insatiable hunger. Amanda turned over again, sitting up and raising the hammer again and again. The zombie’s face came away in bloody chunks, pieces flying through the air each time Amanda brought the hammer up. Rage and frustration welled inside her as the thing refused to let go. She drew back the hammer once more, lungs emptying as she released an anguished cry into the night.

  The hammer came down, punching through the dead woman’s forehead. Amanda tore the hammer out and swung again, smashing the hole open wider, burying the steel head inside soft gray-matter.

  From the dim glow of the dropped light, Amanda could see the group turning back to her, reacting to her cries. She continued to scream her little girl’s
name, but she could not find her daughter.

  The zombie pack pressed close, forcing Amanda to turn, to run when her heart wanted her to stay and find her sweet child.

  More undead shamble around the corner where the truck had stopped, pouring into the alley, chasing the sounds of desperation coming from the distraught mother.

  Turning toward the far end of the alleyway Amanda stumbled forward, little strength left in her legs or her heart. As she runs she turns her head, focusing on the last spot she had seen her daughter. Dimly she realizes she has left the flashlight on the ground, its beam still shining onto the pack that had taken her little girl.

  Zombies shuffle through the dying light, following the woman.

  As she neared the end of the alley Amanda realized that large stone barricades had been placed to create a wall blocking that end from the street. Screaming in frustrated impotence she turned back to see the small pack had turned into a horde of the dead, all of them bearing down on her.

  Backing away, her hands fisted at her sides, one still gripping the hammer, she bumped into the wall behind her. Tears streamed from her eyes, blurring the visions of death stalking toward her.

  There is no escape, the mass of them press in, an impenetrable and unavoidable conclusion. Their moans reverberate up and down the narrow passage; they are all she can hear.

  Amanda, her back to the rough wall, slid to the ground, not feeling it as the concrete pulled up her shirt, abrading her back. She dropped the hammer beside her, the sharp metallic clink of the head on asphalt unheard by her or the dead. Hanging her head, Amanda swallowed and looked up to the mass of shuffling bodies.

  Though in her heart she knew she was doomed, Amanda once again picked up the hammer, thinking to take at least one more of these hateful things out before they devoured her.

  She watched their feet, unable to bring herself to watch the faces of these things that once were the same as she.

  From the shuffling tumult of feet and legs she could see a tiny pair stumble forward, blood running down one leg, the foot clad only in a soaked sock, leaving a bloody trail of footprints behind it. On the foot of the other leg was a small red shoe.

  Amanda’s head fell back hard against the wall behind her, the pain unnoticed. A thin keening wail began low in her chest, rising slowly like a soul twisting out of a dying body. The sight of her sweet little girl, face torn and bloody, gore smattering her shirt, was more than she could bear.

  The hand gripping the hammer shook with a palsy born of rage and horror.

  The little zombie girl dropped to her hands and knees, crawling forward as the horde pressed around her, moans of hunger vibrating the air.

  Amanda’s eyes began to glaze, the nightmare of her child crawling toward her, teeth snapping, took her last shred of sanity and tore it like gossamer, tossing it to the winds.

  Gently she placed the hammer on the ground, pushing it away from her, sliding it just out of reach.

  The dead girl pushed in, as the woman who gave her life turned away, baring her throat to tiny teeth.

  The thrumming roar of the moaning dead was drowned out, cast over by the high wailing scream of a mother, her mind gone, her heart shattered, her throat torn out by the last thing she would ever love.

  END

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