Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 1): The Fall of Man

by Jeff DeGordick

  David gave her the Glock that she dropped in the basement when she blacked out and she pulled out the magazine to see how much ammo remained. The magazine was empty and there was one last cartridge sitting in the chamber of the gun. If she ever used it again, she would have to make it count.

  "Can we really drive a car?" he asked.

  "I hope so," she said. "There's only one way to find out."

  She watched the zombies shuffle back and forth around the parking lot.

  "Do you think you can keep them away from us?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Are you sure? There's a lot of them."

  He gave her a look as if to ask if she was serious, and she held up her hands in defense and relented.

  When they were ready, she slid open the window. It was still intact, and it must have been shut for years, because she had to wrench it with all her might to move it up the track.

  They lowered the supplies out the window onto the grass and paused to go over their game plan.

  "I'll take the water," she said, "and you take the gas. When we find a car that's unlocked and has keys in it, I'll put the water and the backpack in the backseat, then I'll pour the gas in the tank and we can both get in. If you start to lose control, tell me and we'll run back to the school. And if we can't find a car with keys in it, we'll come back to the school and think of something else. Got it?"

  He nodded and they crept out the window and picked up the supplies.

  David closed his eyes and focused. His muscles relaxed and he almost seemed to enter a Zen state. When he was ready, he opened his eyes and nodded to her, and they set off toward the parking lot.

  She carefully watched the zombies as they went, looking for any sign that they would turn on them, and they walked toward the closest car as the zombies milled about. Some of the dead were only a few feet away, and she was prepared to drop everything and run if something went wrong.

  One zombie skirted near them, a tall, lanky male zombie who had every shred of clothing torn off over the years. Its eyes widened and its jaw started to drop, but only for a moment, then it turned and walked away.

  The liquid sloshed loudly in all the containers and Sarah was nervous that any noise they made would set the zombies off, but David remained calm.

  A set of two zombies approached near them. One used to be a boy of about twenty years, and the other had such a striking resemblance to him that she must have been his sister. They wore clothing that you would expect a couple of college students to wear to a gym class, all tattered and stained in blood and mud. These two gave them a cursory glance and moved on, shuffling toward the flagpole at the edge of the parking lot.

  They made it to the first car, which was an old Chevy Impala. Sarah set down one of the water jugs and tried to open the door, but it was locked. She peered through the window, looking around for a set of keys in the ignition or anywhere else just in case the owner had been an idiot and locked their keys in the car. She wasn't too cozy with the idea of smashing the glass to get to them, but she would if they had no other choice.

  She picked the jug back up and they continued to the next car, which was a few spaces over. It was locked too, and the car after that, a Mazda 3, was open, but there were no keys in sight.

  The zombies wandered around, not having any particular pattern or direction to them. When one would get too close, David would push it away. She could see his arms struggling under the weight of the gas can, but he looked completely focused.

  They came up to a Chrysler Sebring and the door was unlocked. Sarah poked her head inside, and to her delight, she saw a set of keys stuck in the ignition. She put the backpack and the jugs of water in the back, then she popped the little tab on the driver's side to open the gas cap cover. David handed her the gas can and she poured its contents into the tank. When the can was emptied, she placed it on the ground and motioned at him to get in the car. Before they sank into the front seats, they shared one last glance and he smiled.

  "See?" he said quietly. "Piece of cake."

  She smiled back and they got in the car. They gently closed the doors and she rested her fingers on the keys in the ignition.

  "Do you really think God's out there?" she asked him.

  He nodded.

  "Then you better pray," she said. She was joking, but he promptly closed his eyes and muttered a silent prayer under his breath. She let him finish, and when he opened his eyes and nodded at her again, she took a deep breath and twisted the keys.

  The car sputtered, making a terrible wrenching noise. The engine didn't catch and she let go of the key. But at least it made a noise, she thought. That was a start. She twisted the key again and it wrenched like before, but this time it sounded like the engine almost caught, like the little engine that could.

  She let go of the key again and looked around nervously at the zombies surrounding them in the parking lot. They had stopped in their tracks and twisted their rotted necks to look at them.

  "Don't worry," David said, seeing her fear, "I'm still doing it."

  "Okay," she said, and she turned the key again. The engine turned over, the starter drive catching the flexplate and causing the pistons to chug, but not ignite. She kept the key turned and finally it combusted and chugged into life.

  The car worked. She didn't want to jinx it or get her hopes up too much, but she got very, very excited. She put the car into drive and eased off the brake, letting it lurch forward. It suddenly shook violently, but then settled.

  The zombies started to shamble up to the car, captivated by all the noise it was making. David squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated, balling his hands into fists.

  She gently pressed on the gas pedal and the car gave a great heave and rocked back and forth as it crawled along. The engine wrenched again and the car shook.

  A zombie crawled onto the hood of the car and started climbing up to the windshield.

  "David?" she said nervously. "What's going on?"

  "I can't!" he cried. "It's too loud!"

  The zombie started smacking the windshield as more jumped on the car.

  The car coughed and sputtered as she frantically pumped on the gas. It rocked back and forth, rolling a couple of the zombies off. The one on the windshield clawed its fingers underneath the top of the hood and wailed on the glass. It splintered like a fine spider web and cracked more with each hit.

  The engine finally settled and ran smooth. Sarah jammed her foot on the gas and the tires squealed on the pavement before shooting off.

  All the zombies fell off the car except for the one on the hood. The car mowed down a few more and bounced over them, evening out through the weedy lawn at the end of the grounds. She cranked the wheel and the car drifted onto the road, flinging the zombie on the hood into a ditch.

  The car shot off down the highway as the undead gave a feeble chase. It choked sporadically for few minutes, but after that it was clear sailing.

  When they were at a safe distance, she stopped the car in the road, but kept it running. She pulled out the map from the backpack and figured out where they were, then pondered their new path.

  "Well," she said, "which way will it be?"

  "We have to, Mom," he said, putting his hand on hers.

  She smiled. "Okay, Noah's Ark it is."

  They drove down the highway as the afternoon passed into evening.

  "How long's it gonna take?" he asked.

  "Hmm, about two or three hours, I'd say."

  His eyes lit up. "Really?"

  "Really."

  "Can we get there tonight?"

  "We just might."

  14

  HILLSBORO BLUES

  The sun stretched its way across the sky and settled well into the evening. They still had more than a few hours until sunset, and they were making great time. David slept while she drove, and they encountered some small pockets of zombies on the way, but they never proved to be a problem. Once in a while, she would have to slow down and weave he
r way through some abandoned cars on the road, but nothing was ever jammed completely; she made sure to follow a route on the map that wouldn't have them going through any cities. She spotted a small group of human survivors along the way, who stopped what they were doing and stood dumbfounded at the sight of a moving car. If they had lifted their jaws off the ground and processed their thoughts in time, Sarah was sure they would have started running after her, pleading for a ride. She was just as glad that they didn't so she didn't have to worry about it, so she could get her son safely to Noah's Ark before anything else happened to them.

  She stretched an arm out and held it on the wheel while she leaned her head back and kept a steady foot on the gas. Her leg was still sore, and it didn't do her much good to be stuck in a car for a couple hours, but she was doing okay and the car still ran smoothly.

  She looked over at David and watched him when she was on a long straight away and saw how peacefully he slept. His short brown hair rested against his head as he leaned it to the side against the door. His dirty clothes clung to him, and Sarah thought about how happy she would be to see her son in a better place. He looked so happy as he slept, like he didn't have a care in the world.

  He began to fidget in his seat. She watched him, thinking he was just restless, but then he started to twitch, his eyes and mouth making quick, jerky movements. She became concerned as he started to shake. She knew he must have been having a nightmare, but this one looked bad. A look of pain spread across his face, replaced by fear.

  "David?" she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  He shrugged it off in his sleep and muttered a plea of mercy under his breath.

  She was about to stop the car and check on him when he suddenly started screaming. His eyes shot open and he sat upright in his seat, howling. She hit the brakes and came to a rough stop. He finally stopped and his eyes drooped and closed again. His body settled and he became calm.

  She leaned over and shook him. "David! David!"

  He slowly opened his eyes again and roused from his troubled sleep. They adjusted to the car around him and he turned his head and looked at her.

  "What's the matter?" she said shrilly.

  He was confused. "What?"

  "What's wrong?" she asked. "You woke up screaming."

  "I did?" he said. He was genuinely confused. "I'm okay," he added. He smiled at her, but she just sat with a look of horror on her face. "What's wrong, Mom?"

  "You don't... remember anything?"

  He shook his head. "No. Remember what?"

  She regarded him for a long moment before saying, "Nothing, honey, it's nothing. Go back to sleep." She tried to fake a smile and said, "Just me being a mom, I guess."

  He smiled and leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes.

  She eased onto the gas again and kept driving down the 29. She kept glancing at him as they went, knowing that all the experiences they went through were starting to take their toll on him. She was scared and worried that all the things he had seen would scar him for the rest of his life. And was it worth it?

  They drove through a long stretch of highway without incident, then she saw something on the side of the road that made her excited for the first time in their journey.

  She shook him awake again.

  "What did I do now?" he asked.

  "Look!" she exclaimed.

  He squinted his eyes in the direction she was pointing and saw it too, his face lighting up.

  It was a sign welcoming them to North Carolina. They passed it and officially crossed over into the next state.

  "Are we here?" David asked excitedly.

  "Not quite yet. We still have a little ways to go, but soon."

  He began shaking in his seat again, but this time it was with excitement.

  They drove down the 86, but they didn't get very far into the state before they came across something else in the road.

  "Oh no," she moaned.

  David looked ahead and the excitement on his face washed away.

  Another makeshift encampment blocked the road just like the one they saw back in Virginia. They were still far away, but they could see a group of armed men inside.

  She started to panic, looking around at the side of the road to see if there was a place where she could get off and go around them, but it was just a narrow stretch of road surrounded on either side by woods, just like before. These men picked their chokepoints well, funneling any travelers into them. But they had never seen travelers with a car before.

  "What we do?" David asked.

  "I don't know," she said. Her hands gripped so tight on the steering wheel that her fingers went white.

  A man standing guard at the edge of the camp spotted the car. He stood up and stared in shock, giving Sarah and David a few crucial seconds before he reacted.

  Sarah heard the men shout to each other and they all ran around like ants. Soon enough, the whole group of them lined up at the wall of scrap metal.

  "Duck, honey!" she said.

  He undid his seatbelt and crawled down into the footwell, tucking his head into his arms.

  She ducked her head down and stepped on the gas pedal as far as it would go. The engine revved like crazy as the car shot forward.

  Loud gunfire rang out in the air. What sounded like a hailstorm ripped across the car. She couldn't see where she was going and prayed they were still going straight.

  More gunfire peppered the car, followed by loud shouts.

  The car hit something hard and shook. A loud grunt whizzed past them as something smacked the hood and rolled up the windshield. A series of crashes rattled the car as it plowed through the camp. There were shouts and gunfire from behind, and after one final jolt, the car evened out and drove smoothly.

  Sarah finally looked up and saw the car drifting off the road toward a tree. She adjusted the wheel as two of the car's tires kicked up gravel on the shoulder.

  Bullets chased them from behind, shattering the back window and burying into the trunk of the car. Sarah jerked her head down again, trying to keep an eye just above the dashboard to see the road. Finally, the gunshots stopped and she looked in the rearview mirror and saw the men standing in the road, their encampment smashed and scattered.

  David was still curled up in the footwell and she made sure he was okay, telling him it was safe to come up.

  The car still ran smoothly and she checked all the gauges for any signs of trouble. The engine was starting to run hot, but everything else looked okay.

  The car's windshield was cracked like a huge spider web, but it was still intact, aside from a few bullet holes. The left sideview mirror had been shot off, dangling by some wires against the side of the car. The back window had shattered, leaving glass spread over the backseat, and a number of bullet holes decorated the car's exterior.

  "Were okay," she said. "Were okay."

  They both settled as the car sped down the 86. She kept her eye on the temperature gauge and saw it slowly creep up as they went. After another half hour had passed, the engine was red hot and white smoke started to come out of it.

  "Don't do this," she said.

  The car began to choke and sputter, and she pumped the gas pedal, trying to get it to work with her.

  "No, not yet," she said. "Just a little bit further."

  "What's wrong with the car, Mom?" David asked. "Are we going to make it?"

  "Yes, we're going to make it," she said distractedly. "Come on!" she yelled at the engine.

  The car choked and heaved and sputtered, and finally died completely. It coasted for a while and rolled to a stop, the engine making ticking noises as thick clouds of white smoke poured out from under the hood.

  She lowered her head and sighed. "Well that's that," she said. She looked at David, who had a frown on his face.

  "The car doesn't work anymore?" he asked.

  "Nope."

  "So we have to walk the rest of the way?"

  "Yeah."

  She stew
ed for a minute then pulled the map out of the glove compartment.

  "I just have to figure out where we are," she said.

  The two of them sat in the car for a while, consulting the map. They figured out they were on the outskirts of a town called Hillsboro, just northwest of Durham. It wasn't too much farther; it would probably take only another day for them to make it into Durham on foot, but they would have to find somewhere to stay for the night and they were in the middle of nowhere. They definitely couldn't stay in the car with the back window smashed in.

  There was a cornfield to their right. Only a small portion of the field was in use, but there were thriving stalks of corn growing from the ground. They could see a faded red barn and a windpump standing behind it, still spinning in the breeze.

  David pointed down the road. "Someone's coming."

  Sarah looked up from the map and grabbed the gun from the glove compartment.

  Far away in the road, a man walked toward them. He was big, with a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans. As he got closer, they could see a six shooter strapped to his waist.

  "Will he hurt us?" David asked.

  "I don't know," Sarah said. "Just do what I say, okay?"

  "Okay."

  When the man was in earshot, he called, "How you folks doin'? You okay?"

  She leaned her head out the window, holding the gun between her legs. "We're fine," she said. "Just ran into some engine trouble."

  The man walked up to the car and stopped in front of it, inspecting all the bullet holes and damage. He moved up to the window and looked in at Sarah and David. "Are you two okay? You didn't get shot, did you?"

  "No, we're okay," she said.

  "I can see you had a run-in with the bandits," he said, picking up the dangling sideview mirror and appraising it.