by Mark Clodi
‘No way had he survived that. If the zed didn’t get him the kid zombies did. Bit was infected; infected was dead. Fucking waste.’
Katie made her way back to the car and didn’t bother to pick up the woman as she continued down the road. The next sign indicated she had only a few miles to go until she entered Florida.
Chapter 21 – Max
“Stewart!” Max whispered as loudly as he dared. “Stewart!”
The woman was still on the couch in front of the small dining table. Giving up on her Max went to the open window and called out softly, “Ruben!”
The older man was standing by the side of the trailer, squinting outwards and trying to see through the thick morning fog that had come up during the night.
“You’re up early Max.” Ruben said quietly. “You better not wake up your girl-friend, she was a little cranky when she finally turned…”
“Stop Ruben. There are zombies coming. A lot of them. They are all around the park. Get Javier. I’ll wake up Stewart.”
Bill had already shaken himself awake and was lacing up his boots. Max padded down to Stewart in his socks, juggling his boots and rifle as he went. With an elbow he prodded Stewart, who came awake almost instantly and had her pistol pointing at Max a split second later.
“Wake up. Zombies coming.”
It was almost dawn, the fog was lit in a dim glow that allowed them to discern the shapes of Ruben and Javier before the two came into the trailer.
“How close Max?” Ruben asked.
“Close. Less than a hundred yards.”
“We gotta get into the trucks then and high tail it out of here.” Bill said.
“Did you guys hear anything?” Max asked.
Ruben and Javier shook their heads, but only Ruben answered, “Nothing, just normal animal sounds.”
“Well they’re out there. I can see them. They are closing in, but slowly. There are a couple of the smart ones, hanging back.”
“So the standard way they do things then.” said Stewart, “Do we have time to make coffee and chit-chat or should we be moving now?”
Bill nodded at Stewart, “Good point, move now, talk later. Who wants to ride in the new truck?”
Everyone raised their hands quietly.
Grinning, Bill said, “Can you tell I am new at this? Max, you, Ruben, and Javier go in the old one, with Javier driving. Stewart, me and you will take the new one. We’ll all go out and get into the vehicles together. Stewart and I will get in from the passenger door, you three from the driver’s side. That should make it more difficult for them to get ahold of us.” The evening before, they had parked the trucks side by side near the front end of the trailer.
The five people filed out, with Bill leaving last, he took a quick glance around to make sure they had not forgotten anything before he left.
The fog outside was only faintly brighter as the group slogged towards the trucks.
“Go! We gotta go faster, they are moving in.” Max muttered. Ahead of them Stewart and Rueben started a quick jog to the doors of the trucks. A moment later someone’s rifle went off and Max saw a shadowy form fly backwards in the fog.
Ruben was down on one knee, rifle held to his shoulder, he fired twice more at zombies that glided into view around the hood of the truck. Not waiting to see if his shots were lethal he jerked open the truck door and scrambled into the back, hefting the bomb with him. Javier rested his rifle on the windowless door frame and gestured at Max to get in. Bill and Stewart already had the big diesel started before Max was even in his seat. The zombies closed in around the two vehicles, suddenly becoming visible as gray shades. Max pushed his gun through the window and fired wildly at the closest two. In the back seat Ruben was struggling to get situated with the backpack, cursing loudly as his gun strap had somehow become entwined with one from the pack.
Both trucks lurched forward at the same time, ruining Max’s next shot and causing Ruben to tumble onto the floor on his back. With a sickening crunch Javier side swiped the back of the diesel and was shoved off of the narrow gravel road into the camping area, where the truck smashed over a picnic table and a solid metal grill. The entire truck lurched upwards as they drove over the debris.
“Fuck! I thought I was going first!” Javier yelled to Max.
“I don’t know, I thought we were too…Hey!” Max yelled at the zombie who had grabbed onto the end of his rifle barrel. Shaking it didn’t deter the creature, who clung to the weapon with both hands and practically dragged Max out of the truck. The rifle’s strap was wound around Max’s shoulder and he could not shake the zombie off.
“Help! He’s got my gun!” Max screamed as he was pulled from his seat halfway through the window.
Javier responded by swerving the truck from side to side, which almost threw Max out the window. Ruben’s hand clawed up from the floor in the back seat and had a firm grip on Max’s pants, holding him tenuously in place. Ruben couldn’t raise himself up to get a better grip and Javier was staring at Max’s behind as the man slowly lost the battle with the zombie.
“Stop driving son!” Ruben called, “You gotta stop and pull him back or I am going to lose him.”
Javier slammed on the brakes and Max disappeared into the fog as he was pulled out.
“I didn’t say, slam on the goddamned brakes!” yelled Ruben, finally rising to a sitting position in the back seat. “Pull forward. Slowly! And put the fucking lights on so we don’t run him over!”
Sweat was pouring off of Javier’s face as he struggled to do as the old man said. He drove the truck forward no more than ten feet and stopped when he saw a body on the ground.
“Ruben?”
“What is it? Do you see him? Is he hurt?”
“It’s just…a body.” Javier could tell the body didn’t belong to Max, it was dressed in casual clothing, sweat pants and a t-shirt. Max was outfitted like the rest of them, in fatigues. “It’s not Max, I don’t see Max, only his gun.”
“Oh shit. Turn your radio on, try and contact Bill.”
Javier did just that while Ruben climbed over the seat to the front, “I am too old to be doing this sort of stuff. Humping my ass over seat backs. Crawling under cars. Shooting, goddamned horror movie monsters. I swear the only time I ever climbed over the seat back, there was pussy involved and this is a damn site less fun than that.”
Ruben peered into the fog and said, “I’m going out to get the rifle. You keep trying to raise Bill on the radio. As soon as they know they’ve out distanced us, they will turn it on and try and talk to us.”
Hopping out Ruben felt a twinge in his knee, “Too gawdamned old.” He muttered as he bent to collect Max’s rifle. Off in the distance he heard gunfire, it sounded like two rifles firing in a constant barrage somewhere ahead of him. “Damnit.” In a soft voice he called, “Max? Max, buddy? Are you out there?”
His old hands cocked the rifle and wound the broken strap around his wrist, taking a knee he slowly spun a half circle in front of the truck. The fog was too thick. Bending he examined the ground by the body. The zombies head was smashed in, it was dead for good, there were scuffle marks in the dirt that may or may not have been made by someone crawling away. “I ain’t an indian tracker. How am I supposed to figure this out?” Ruben was quiet for a moment, then muttered, “But if I lose Max I better not show my face to Bill or Stewart again…” Bending he followed the scuffles up into another camp area. Behind him the truck followed at an idle.
The rifle fire continued for several more seconds and then cut off abruptly. It was followed by a crackling from the radio in Javier’s hand.
“Is it on?” Bill’s voice asked.
“Of course it’s fucking on! See if they are there!” came Stewart’s voice, oddly echoing from the radio and the fog in front of Ruben.
“Hello? Ruben? Max?”
“This is, um, Javier.”
“Good…” Bill began only to be cut off by Stewart.
“Where the fuck are they? First h
e side swipes us, then he stops. I mean did you have to give him instructions on how to drive the truck too?”
“Javier, where are you guys?”
“The zombies got Max. We stopped to get him.”
“What? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“The. Zombies. Got. Max.” Javier said, annunciating each word slowly.
“You got him back, though, right?”
“We’re working on it.”
“We’re coming back.”
“Don’t drive too fast, we can’t be that far away from you.”
Ruben heard the sound of the truck starting up and in seconds saw the headlights pierce the gloom. He waved on arm and Stewart stopped. There was blood on the front grill of the truck. When it stopped a slow trickle ran down the chrome and pooled in the dirt.
“Where is Max?” Stewart demanded, slamming the door as she left the driver’s seat.
“A zombie pulled him out. We stopped, we can’t find him.” Ruben said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly.
“What do you mean a zombie pulled him out of the truck?”
“He had his rifle pointing outside of the vehicle shooting zombies and one of them got close enough to grab his gun. They fought, he got pulled out. It happened right back there. The zombie he was fighting is still there, only dead for real now. Stewart,” Ruben said, holding up one hand, “Max’s rifle was there too.”
“Max!” Yelled Bill into the gloom. “Max! If you can hear me, yell back!”
Silence was their only answer.
Chapter 22 – Max
Max heard Bill call out for him. Answering was impossible with the zombie’s hand clamped tightly around his mouth.
“I know you want to answer him. But just simmer down. Relax. Ain’t nothing you can do to change what is happening right now.” The zombie, one Stewart would quantify as an ‘Einstein’, continued carrying him down a ravine through the fog.
After he was pulled from the truck Max remembered hitting the ground hard and landing on top of the zombie who had grabbed him. Then things became a little blurry as the hands of the dead pulled at him, lifting him up and away from the unmoving form of the zombie that had cushioned his fall. Now he was being carried like a trussed pig by a large African American man, and there were zombies all around them. In fact, when Max concentrated on his friends he could tell that the zombie attack had been called off of them. The shamblers were dispersing from the glowing sparks that Max had come to see his friends as.
“I’m Lucas.” The zombie offered by way of introduction. Turning to his nearby friends, fellow Einsteins, Lucas said, “You truss him, I’ll hold his mouth.”
When Max had his feet on the ground he tried to make a break for it. The other zombies were not expecting his strength, but Lucas was ready for it. He kept one hand pressed against Max’s mouth and used his other to grab him around the back of his head. Max’s scream was an aborted muffle that hadn’t carried more than a few feet. Lucas lifted Max into the air by his head, held him there and shook him with an almost tenderness.
“I know your kind.” Lucas said, giving Max another gentle shake. “You might take more shaking to break your neck than most living, but I could do it. And now you know it. So? You got no choice in this. Come along with us. Either quietly or not, but either way you are coming along.”
Max had wrapped his hands around Lucas’s arms so all his weight was not balanced on his neck. He couldn’t communicate in the position he was in, so he just let the rest of his body go limp. The other zombies quickly closed in and tied his legs, using what looked like metal cuffs on his legs. They put one set on and after a moment’s hesitation, snapped a second set into place.
“See? We know about you.” Lucas said. “Sorry about this next bit.”
Max caught a flash of orange as a strap was wrapped around over his eyes. His feet hit the ground abruptly and Lucas removed his hand and forced some sort of ball into Max’s mouth. The cord was tightened at the back of his head and once strapped in Max couldn’t speak so much as a word. His hands were pulled behind his back and double cuffed like his feet had been.
“Look at it this way, at least you don’t have to walk.” Lucas pointed at two of the zombies nearby and said, “Carry him. And don’t hurt him.”
The zombies hefted Max like a log over their shoulders and the group set out at a jog through the fog.
‘Stewart!’ Max thought furiously in his mind, trying, hoping to contact her. After all, if he could see nearby people, why not talk to them too. In this case his hopes were dashed and nothing happened at all. Slowly he watched as his friends made every widening circles in a search pattern behind him at the camp ground. One by one, the group slipped beyond his ability to see them anymore.
The sun rose and burned off the fog around them, replacing it with a hot, humid summer day. The zombies stayed away from roads, they travelled through the woods and along stream beds and if they did take a man-made path they practically ran while they moved along it. It was mid-morning before they stopped and Lucas undid the bindings holding Max gagged.
“Sorry, it has been a few weeks since I was alive. It is amazing how quickly you forget about certain things. Are you thirsty?”
Max wanted to respond with defiance, he had plenty of time to think about what would happen when they inevitably spoke with him. He had figured out they would, he didn’t know what they wanted, but if they wanted him dead they had ample opportunity. If they wanted live humans, they would have taken Bill and the others. ‘No,’ he thought, ‘They wanted me. And they got me.’
To test his theory he merely said, “I wouldn’t say no to a drink.”
Lucas nodded, “I think it is pretty safe to say you could yell for help all you wanted out here. Can you still see your friends?”
Max put a confused look on his face and looked around, “No. How could I?”
Shaking his head Lucas didn’t smile when he said, “That is not what I am talking about. And I want you to know that I know that. Now, can you still see your friends?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Max answered, “No.”
“Not so hard is it? Cooperating, I mean.”
“About that drink…” Max ventured.
“Coming up. Adam?” Lucas asked, “Get the man a drink.”
A zombie cut from the cloth of male adolescent approached with a shoulder bag and pulled out a liter of bottled water. He popped the lid off of it and held it up while Max drank his fill, then pulled back a little late, spilling water everywhere.
“Sorry.” Adam said with a sulky voice that indicated he was anything but.
“Don’t worry about it. In this humidity I’ll be soaked through in an hour anyway.”
“True enough.” said Lucas, “Are you hungry?”
“What have you got?”
“Does it matter?”
Max waited a moment and nodded, “Yeah.”
“Well how about pancakes, bacon, grits, fresh eggs and plenty of maple syrup and butter? Served with hot fresh coffee. Do you take cream and sugar?”
Involuntarily Max felt his mouth watering, “Both.”
“Adam.” Lucas said.
The young man pulled out a box of Kashi food bars.
“Sorry, we don’t have any of that other stuff.” Lucas said. He took a bar from Adam, tore the wrapper off and held it while Max nibbled it.
“So, what do you want with me?” Max asked between bites.
“I don’t.”
“What?”
“I don’t want anything with you.”
The rest of the meal was short and silent. Lucas didn’t gag Max when they started moving again, but he didn’t allow Max to walk himself either. The group only travelled a short distance, when they came across a four lane highway. Max caught sight of a road sign, it was highway 75, the same road he had been travelling south on yesterday. Max couldn’t tell if they were at a spot on the road that he had already passed, but if he had to guess he would have said they were furthe
r south.
They group stood in the brush just off the road, except for Lucas and Max the other zombies crouched down out of sight from the road. Lucas took Max back about into the trees almost out of sight of the highway, and they waited.
“What are we waiting for?” Max eventually asked.
“You tell me. You got the sight. Don’t blink or you might miss it.”
A few more minutes passed and Max heard the sound of a car driving along the highway. It was moving along at a good clip and disappeared from sight in seconds thanks to the heavy tree growth. The vehicle was a mini-van of some sort, which relieved Max, he had been afraid it would be one of the trucks carrying Bill and Stewart away from him.
“That’s it?” Max asked. “You wanted me to see a mini-van drive by? You could have just asked.”
Lucas shook his head, “Nope. I don’t think you would have come. Anyway that was only the first one. We’re waiting for the second. Give it a couple minutes.” Lucas took ahold of Max and carried him to the edge of the highway, they loitered there in full view of anyone coming along the road now.
Closer to five minutes later a camouflage military vehicle came around the long curve towards them. The Humvee slowed and stopped before them and Max saw the passenger door open and a woman got out. He recognized her.
“You! You’re…Harry’s girl!” Max said with surprise.
The woman shook her head, “’Harry’s girl’? Bah! Harry was my man.” She said emphasizing the word ‘my’, “You almost got it right. A small deception that worked pretty well, though not good enough. Of course you almost killed me. Then again you did get Harry.”
“I saw you. You got shot in the street.”
“Neck shot. I healed. Harry…not so lucky.”
“But, the bombs!” Max stammered, “The bombs started falling everywhere, we barely got out.”
“Yeah, I didn’t. You know what it’s like to be buried under a building? It took me hours to figure out what happened and a day to organize a digging party to rescue me.”