They didn’t wait to count.
They moved carefully so they didn’t stumble on the railroad ties. On the bridge the eight-inch gaps between the ties had nothing but air below. These gaps forced them to be careful but drastically slowed the hungry horde behind them. The front line would trip and fall over and over again. The ones too slow to rise would be overrun and crushed into the path.
A few hundred feet onto the bridge, someone had nailed plywood onto the tracks between the ties, allowing them to move fast.
Until they saw the words spray painted on the bridge:
WARNING: Trap ahead.
They came to a section where two sheets of plywood were painted with faded orange spray paint, outlining the edges. In the center it said: TRAP: Don’t Step Here!
They could see on the outside of the rails that the ties were gone here. The rails had “SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE SAFE” written along the tops.
A sign to the side said, “Use the Rope.”
There was a rope hanging down from high above, on the trestle, on the far side of the trap. But it was tied off loosely near their feet. Allie lifted the rope.
Behind them they could hear feet, now on the plywood, coming their way.
“GO!” was all Ray said, as he turned toward the zombies moving toward them.
With the help of the rope to stabilize her she moved quickly across the rail like a balance beam.
Ray only had to dispatch one zombie before he turned and began across the rail without the rope. Allie swung him the rope just as the first zombie set foot on the trap.
As he slipped through the trapdoor like a chute he got a hand on Ray’s ankle and dragged him off the rail just as he got his hand on the rope.
Like lemmings, dozens of zombies fell to the shallow river far below. The trap door was counterbalanced and reset whenever another zombie set foot on it. Ray and Allie stood there like bait as they fell, one after another, to the river below, their bodies drifting away in the strong current of the shallow rapids.
After about fifteen minutes all the zombies that were still able to move had fallen into the trap.
“That’s brilliant,” Allie said as the trapdoor reset for the last time. “It’s quiet. It resets automatically without power. Brilliant.”
“I bet there is another one at the far end,” Ray said. “Look at this.” He drew away a blue tarp. Underneath was a dolly made to roll along on the rails. There were about twenty-five cases of canned food under the tarp. “This would roll right over that trap with supplies.”
“Come on,” Allie said. “Let’s go find this genius.”
The freight car was closest to them. The sliding door was slightly ajar and they peeked in as they walked by. More dusty cases of canned food filled half the car.
The passenger car was next in line but the stairs on the end had been blocked with corrugated metal panels. It looked like an enclosed passage had been established into the freight car on the end.
The first tanker car was for water. Above, a large inverted canopy, hanging upside down from the train trestle, functioned as a huge rain catchment system.
“Ray, this last tanker is propane,” Allie said. “And there is another one of the twelve-feet-long cargo dollies under that tarp. And bikes!”
There was a lean-to style tarp set up over a rack with a dozen or so bikes.
“I think we are going to stay here tonight,” Ray said.
***
The passenger cars had curtains drawn all along both sides. And no easy and obvious way to enter. They went back to the freight car and slid the door open enough to climb up. It was dark inside. Cases of supplies filled most of the end toward the passenger car, including tools and 55-gallon drums of fuel.
An arch had been cut into end of the car with a chainsaw. The door to the passenger car was just beyond.
They both held their AR15s at ready. The door slid easily open and revealed a very clean and organized club car. Closest to the door were bathrooms to both left and right marked LADIES and GENTS in art deco brass. There was a bar next with a large selection of booze. Bookcases in the area opposite the bar were well stocked with canned goods of all kinds. There were café tables and chairs, sofas, and overstuffed leather recliners, as well as booths along the same side as the bar.
There was another door at the other end about 40 feet along. They opened it with rifles ready and were hit by a stench they were not prepared for.
“What the fuck is that?” Allie gasped, as she buried her face in her elbow, still looking straight ahead.
“I have gotten use to smelling rotting zombies, but what the hell could that be?” Ray said.
There was a bed at the far end of the room. From it came a quiet, raspy voice.
“That would be me.”
***
“My name is Henry Danton,” he whispered.
The smell was a man lying in his own shit and piss. But that was not the worst of it. A massive leg wound had gone septic. Rancid puss soaked the mattress. Some kind of flesh-eating virus had opened and blackened the wound, exposing the man’s femur. Gallon jugs and various cans littered the floor around the bed.
“Be careful when you go in the bathroom. Martha is in there and she has turned,” he whispered weakly. “I think she killed herself.”
Allie pushed the door to the bathroom open with the point of her sword. A different, more familiar smell flowed out. Martha was there, hanging from a noose made from an extension cord.
Without pausing, Allie stabbed through her eye socket and out the back of her cranium. Her thrashing stopped.
“She felt guilty for stabbing my leg,” Henry said. “It was an accident. Her machete was… covered in gore.”
Allie noticed his ankle was tied to the bedpost. It was a beautiful Victorian four-post bed.
The room was lovely in its Old World style. Ray was busy opening windows.
“I couldn’t do it while I was strong enough.” His hand patted a Beretta 9mm. “I’m a coward. Plus the whole Catholic thing. Asking Martha to help was the last straw for her. Can you send us to the river together? Please?”
Ray picked up the Beretta and checked the load. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Did you build all this?”
Henry just nodded slightly, his eyes drooping.
“We’ll take care of everything,” Allie said in her kindest voice.
His eyes slid shut and Allie severed the top of his head with a single sword strike on the bridge of his nose.
***
They did as Henry Danton wished. He and his wife Martha were laid to rest together on the soiled mattress and with the help of the cargo dolly Ray was able to say a few words over them at the trap door.
“We are going to rename this the Danton Bridge. Thank you, Henry. We will pay it forward.”
With those words, they tipped the mattress and the bodies onto Henry’s trap. The water was deeper at the Harpers Ferry end. Their bodies disappeared into the green water straightaway.
Screams made them look away and they saw below in Harpers Ferry a teenage boy and girl running out of an alley with several dozen zombies in hot pursuit. They were wearing red matching T-shirts that said Thing 1 and Thing 2. They must have been in one of the tourist shops. They had no gear, no backpacks, and had been caught unaware.
“Some of those are fresh and can still move pretty fast,” Ray said, as he raised his scope to his eye and waited. “Looks like some of their pals turned without notice.”
Allie put two fingers in her mouth and whistled an amazingly loud blast. The tiring teens saw them and began running their way.
Ray held his fire until one zombie got too close to the panicked girl and he shot. The zombie dropped, tripping the three directly behind it. The crowd of zombies increased to about fifty by the time the teens got to the trap.
“It’s a trapdoor. Hold onto this.” There were two ropes at this end of the bridge. “Use the rail like a balance beam.” The girl just grabbed the
rope on the run and swung the distance as rotting arms stretched out for her.
They watched, out of breath, as the entire horde plummeted to the river below.
“I’m Ray. This is Allie.” Ray reached out his hand to shake. “Are you guys hungry? I was about to make dinner.”
“Ever watch Star Trek? Didn’t anyone ever tell you what happens to redshirts…?” Allie smiled.
About the Authors
If you would like to contact one of the authors please email us at: [email protected]
The Markie Mark, Copyright © 2017 by Robert J. Aamoth
All Dolled Up, Copyright © 2017 by Stephen Kozeniewski
Rocking C, Copyright © 2017 by JL Curtis
Them or Us, Copyright © 2017 by Alice J. Black
Otis Island, Copyright © 2017 by Kelly Carr
The Treehouse, Copyright © 2017 by Stanley B. Webb
A Slow Leak, Copyright © 2017 by Cameron Smith
From Dead to Dust, Copyright © 2017 by TS Alan
Needs Must, Copyright © 2017 by John L. French
Zombie Stress, Copyright © 2017 by David Duperre
In the Valley of the Dead, Copyright © 2017 by Alexei Kalinchuk
Stuck in the middle with you, Copyright © 2017 by Lou Antonelli
A Walk in the Park, Copyright © 2017 by Chad Vincent
Crave New World, Copyright © 2017 by Adrian Ludens
Blood in the Water, Copyright © 2017 by Emmet O’Cuana
The Bridge, Copyright © 2017 by Martin Wilsey
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Donna Royston for all the heavy lifting with the editing chores associated with this project. I’d also like to thank Heidi Sutherland for the cover design.
As always, I’d like to thank The Hourlings writers group for your support and encouragement as well as your participation in the anthology.
I want to thank my excellent wife Brenda Reiner for continuing to be generally awesome.
Mostly I want to thank my childhood friend, Ray Clark. We were friends when they were still a real thing. We would plan sleep overs based on the Creature Feature TV schedule in TV guide, to be watched on my Black and White TV. Zombies were chief on the priority list then. Followed closely by Godzilla and Hammer Films.
Ray Clark, my childhood friend, died in the mid 80s.
It’s almost 40 years later and I still have not visited his grave. When were were kids he swore he’d reach up through the dirt and grab my ankle if I ever stood on his grave.
Maybe I’ll have the courage soon… maybe.
Apoc Series (Vol. 1): Whispers of the Apoc [Tales From The Zombie Apocalypse] Page 31