The Apocalypse Crusade 3: War of the Undead Day 3

by Peter Meredith

  One turn of the handle and they burst out, knocking back a thing. Zombie was too kind of a word to describe the fleshless horror that dragged its intestines behind it like horrid, fly-covered streamers. Courtney was shocked by the sight and backed away, stepping on Thuy’s feet.

  “No! This way,” Thuy said, grabbing Courtney and yanking her to the side. Together, they plowed through a run of bushes that lined the walk. The creature with the hanging intestines was quickly on them, but as Thuy had foreseen, the bushes snagged on its guts and held it back. It snapped at them like a dog on a leash.

  They backed away only to find more zombies coming at them. Most were partially eaten and exceedingly lame. A few were faceless and blind. The stench of the smoke and the dark baffled them, making it easy to dodge around them.

  “God!” Courtney whispered, mesmerized at the wretched sight. Thuy pulled her on, her mind already onto the next obstacle before them: seventy-five yards of zombie infested city streets between them and the Jeep.

  Deckard was doing turns in a parking lot down the block from them. He had the zombies’ attention, perhaps more so than he had bargained for. His plan was to draw them away and then zip back, only they moved at different speeds and were strung out. There was no way to zip anywhere. He needed another minute, but the faster monsters were on him too quickly, and he had to race onto a west-bound street to keep from being attacked.

  Thuy watched him go with a sinking heart. Their only shot at safety had just driven away and now there were hundreds of stirred up and snarling zombies in front of them and a burning building behind them.

  Unarmed as they were, the building was safer. She turned to go back, but that was when two dozen shadowy forms rushed out of the bushes, cutting them off. Like most of the creatures, they were grey-skinned and black-eyed, they snarled and flashed broken teeth. But they did not attack. They seemed to Thuy to be waiting on a command from their leader.

  She had kept them well fed. She had kept them safe. She was smart. She stepped closer. Her pale hair was streaked with blood and her bloated belly hung with a half-gallon of congealing black blood, pushing out the dirty hospital gown she wore.

  Thuy recognized the gown before she recognized the girl. “Jaimee Lynn? Is that you?”

  Jaimee Lynn grinned an evil black grin.

  Chapter 19

  1— 6:23 p.m.

  The Hartford Quarantine Zone

  The circle of little zombies began to close in. They were feral, horrid creatures, though some were only half-creatures, missing limbs, and sometimes the flesh from their faces. Thuy recoiled in fright, stepping back into Courtney, who made a whimpering sound. The sound seemed to egg on the small pack of monsters and they came closer, showing fearsomely sharp teeth.

  “Stop!” Jaimee Lynn ordered and, to Thuy’s utter amazement, the pack closing in stopped. Jaimee Lynn moved toward Thuy, stepping slowly, warily, like a tiger cub seeing a Sambar deer for the first time. Instinctively, it knew it was food; however, caution was instinctive as well.

  Jaimee Lynn had forgotten her own name and the sudden reminder brought with it strange memories. Pictures in her head. This woman, with hair the color of night and her warm golden skin, was in one of them. She was pretty and Jaimee Lynn knew her mommy was pretty. Everybody back home always said so. She could remember that much.

  Thuy held up open hands as Jaimee Lynn came within arm’s reach, looking as though she couldn’t make up her mind whether to launch herself at Thuy or not. If she did, Thuy saw that there would be nowhere to run, she was surrounded. Nervously, her eyes kept shifting side to side, taking in the other foul little children. They hadn’t moved. They hadn’t been told to move. But as they kept licking their lips like a dog would when a steak was dangled just out of reach, Thuy knew it was only a matter of time before they did move.

  Jaimee Lynn was her only chance. She was the only one of them with a spark of intelligence still in her eyes and she was the only one who seemed able to focus on anything beyond the demanding hunger.

  Forcing calm into her voice, Thuy said: “Hello, Jaimee Lynn. Do you remember me?”

  The filthy little blonde squinched up her face as she tried to piece together where she knew this familiar looking lady from. Finally, she asked: “Are you my mommy?”

  “No, Jaimee Lynn. I-I am Dr. Lee. I am a friend of your father’s, remember? Do you remember the hospital where you got that gown you are wearing? Your father was with me at the hospital. I was trying to help him feel better. Your father and I are friends. Do you remember that?”

  “I remember the fire,” the little girl zombie said.

  “Yes, there was a fire, a big, scary one, but your father lived through it. I helped him.” Thuy tried on a disarming smile, but she knew she couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes. Now that the Jeep was gone, the hundreds of zombies had turned back toward the most obvious sign of humanity, which, in truth, wasn’t Thuy and Courtney.

  They were two rather small people, lost in the dark, their human scent mostly covered by the stench of the monsters surrounding them. No, what drew the mass of zombies was the building going up in flames. There were very human cries emanating from it, and there were gun shots ringing out, and what really got their tummies rumbling was that there were people clearly silhouetted in the windows as they battled other zombies or simply fought for air.

  It was they who drew the horde back from chasing after the Jeep, but from Thuy’s perspective, it looked as though the zombie horde was heading right back for her. “Can you help me, Jaimee Lynn?” Thuy begged in desperation. “If you do, I can help you find your father.”

  “My father?” she asked, her faced lined in puzzlement. “Y’all keep sayin’ that. Y’all mean ma daidy?”

  Jaimee Lynn spoke the short sentence so quickly that to Thuy it sounded like: Y’allmeanma daidy, and it took her a moment to realize that Y’allmeanma were three separate words; however she couldn’t fathom the meaning of the last word. “What do you mean when you say: daidy?”

  Courtney, who had been standing so close to Thuy that a stray particle of light couldn’t have found its way between them, said: “Her daddy, her daddy!”

  “Yes, right. Of course I mean your daidy, Jaimee Lynn,” Thuy said, catching on. “I can help you find your daidy if you can get us away from here. I know where he is and I know that he has been looking for you. In-in fact, that’s why I’m here. I came to find you, Jaimee Lynn.”

  “Ya did?”

  Thuy was about to answer when the Jeep suddenly raced back into view, barreling down the street, its headlights like two huge dragon eyes. The zombies all around the City Hall building turned for the Jeep once again, charging as best as they could.

  Most could only stumble along, but in their eagerness, they made out a surprisingly fast stumble. In a minute, there were only a few zombies around Thuy and Courtney, not counting the pack of children, which was still too many in number for them to handle.

  “So, Jaimee,” Thuy said, drawing the girl’s attention back to her. “Can you tell your friends to move aside so we can go. It should just be you, me and Courtney. We don’t want to scare your daidy.”

  A glint of suspicion touched Jaimee Lynn’s dark eyes. “My daidy ain’t scared of nuffin. Y’all even know him at all?”

  Before Thuy could answer, a man streaked by, racing for the Jeep which had broken away from the mob chasing it and was parked a block away, blaring its horn. In between the honks, Thuy could hear her name being yelled.

  It was Deckard’s strong voice and that should have filled her with great elation; however she was still surrounded and what was worse was that the man who had run by had been the mayor. The sharp angles of his grey suit stood out in the dark and, despite the fact that there was very little light, his perfectly styled hair glinted.

  When he got to the Jeep, there was no guessing what he would say or do.

  “Of course I knew your daidy,” Thuy assured the little girl zombie. She tried a carefree l
augh only it came off sounding fearful. “He was tall and tan with rough hands, remember? And he always needed a shave, right? He asked me to find you, but only you, Jaimee Lynn. So please tell these other children to step aside so we can go to him. You want to go to him, don’t you?”

  “Course I do,” Jaimee Lynn said. She really wanted to see her daidy, only the longer she stood there in front of this soft, soft woman with her beautiful scent, the more Jaimee Lynn wanted to eat her. She wasn’t hungry, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have room for a few bites.

  It didn’t help matters that Thuy kept turning to look at the Jeep with her head twisted around, showing off the perfect lines of her neck. It made Jaimee Lynn drool.

  Thuy couldn’t help herself. The mayor waved the Jeep over and, as she watched, he jumped in. Why’d they let him in? she wondered. What was he saying to them? What if he told Deckard that she was dead? The answer was as easy as it was heart-wrenching: the one man she loved would drive away, simple as that.

  She saw it perfectly in her mind’s eye: Deckard would be stunned by the news. He would sit back behind the wheel in shock, but only for a few seconds. Then he would recover, consider his possibilities, as the mayor spoke more lies and promises into his head, and then he would do the smart thing and leave.

  In spite of their predicament, Thuy couldn’t help herself and watched the Jeep, waiting for it to peel away. As she did, Jaimee Lynn watched her, the string of black drool reaching her collar as her pack closed in. Only Courtney kept her wits.

  “Let’s get Jaimee Lynn to her daidy,” Courtney said, grabbing Thuy’s arm and squeezing it, digging her nails in until Thuy winced. “Don’t you think we should get going, Dr. Lee?”

  “Right, yes, of course.” Reluctantly, Thuy pulled her eyes from the Jeep and looked for somewhere where there weren’t crowds of zombies. The only place was to their right at the Wadsworth Museum of Art, which seemed to be an ideal place to go. The front of it resembled a castle, complete with tall turreted towers and narrow, easily defended windows. If the mayor had been smart, he would have chosen to defend that building instead of City Hall.

  “We need to go that way,” Thuy said pointing at the building. “Jaimee Lynn if you could move them, please. We can go find your…Jaimee Lynn?” The little girl zombie was eyeing her neck. Subconsciously, Thuy touched her throat with her left hand; the other she put out towards Jaimee Lynn, as if telling her to stop. “Tell them to move, Jaimee Lynn if you want to see your father. You do want to see your father, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s just…” She paused to swallow. “I’ll also wanna eat you. I just don’t know which I wanna do more.”

  Thuy could guess which she wanted to do more as Jaimee Lynn’s stomach suddenly growled and her pack of mini-zombies came even closer.

  2—The Hartford Quarantine Zone

  Deckard spun the wheel hard left and gunned the engine, dancing the Jeep Rubicon through the zombies, trying to draw them all towards him so that he could zip back to the front doors of the building. Chuck would take over driving then as Deckard ran inside to find Thuy.

  That was the plan, however the Jeep was a blocky vehicle and the “dance” Deckard had it doing was without rhythm or grace. He nearly hit a fire hydrant and had to slam the brakes to keep from crashing into a parked UPS truck. As he yanked the transmission into reverse, a man suddenly jumped into the back seat.

  Stephanie Glowitz, who sat in the other back seat, gaped for a precious second, before trying to shoot him. The sun had set, and night time in the zone was dark and scary as hell. She didn’t know if this was a full-on zombie, ready to start eating them, a partial one looking for revenge, or just some dude—she couldn’t chance it being “just some dude.”

  She had an M4 which she tried to yank away from the window and point the man’s way, but it was an unwieldy weapon in such close quarters and he spoke before she could kill him.

  “Thanks so much for rescuing me. Your kindness will not go unrewarded.”

  He had a fluid way of speaking: clear, precise and silky smooth. Stephanie stopped trying to kill him; however Deckard was of another mind. “Get out,” he ordered.

  “You don’t understand. My name is Danny Perez, I am the Mayor of Hartford.” Thinking that this was all the introduction or explanation that was called for, the mayor gave Deckard a toothy, white, confident smile. The sort of smile a movie star would have.

  Seeing the smile, Stephanie was even happier that she hadn’t killed him. Deckard only modified his stance slightly. “Get out, now!”

  “He’ll prolly die iff’n you kick him out in the middle of this,” Chuck drawled, sounding as though he didn’t care one way or the other. “Maybe y’all might want to drop him off over there by that castle-looking building.”

  Deckard grunted—his way of agreeing when he didn’t have time for much talk. And with hundreds of zombies converging, he had said all he could. He floored the Rubicon around the hydrant, bounced them back onto the street and raced for the odd building that did, indeed look like a castle.

  “Look,” the mayor said. “I’m not getting out. You can’t make me. Besides, you should want me to stay. I can be useful. I have friends in high places. If you stick with me, we can get out of the Zone. Don’t you want to get out of the Zone?”

  Because of a sudden surge of zombies charging up out of the dark, Deckard was forced to loop around to the building, giving him time to ask the mayor: “If you’re so high and mighty, where are your friends? If you’re the mayor, why are you bumming a ride instead of catching the next helicopter out of here?”

  “An interesting question. I was asked by the governor to remain here to keep order until the city has fallen. Clearly, it has. And I would have had a ride, except things fell apart quicker than I thought they would. So, if you would be so kind as to point this…this…” He waved his tanned hand around, indicating the Jeep.

  In Chuck’s eyes, a man who didn’t know what a Jeep looked like wasn’t much of a man. He snorted laughter as Deckard said: “It’s called a Jeep. And we aren’t leaving without a woman named Dr. Thuy Lee. She’s in the City Hall building.”

  “Dr. Lee?” the mayor asked, his smile faltering. “I’m afraid she was bitten not too long ago. I’m sorry, but she’s done for. She’s not going to make it.”

  The Jeep began drifting, its engine quieting as Deckard took his foot off the gas. He was suddenly so weak he didn’t think he had the strength to drive. Next to him, Chuck stopped laughing, his lean face suddenly looking haggard and tired at the news. “Y’all might want to goose the gas a bit,” he said quietly to Deckard. He then asked the mayor: “What about the people who were with her? John Burke? Courtney Shaw?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, the mayor lied through practiced lips, “There was no one with her.” He was so smooth and easy a liar that he almost believed it himself. “She came alone. Sorry.”

  Deckard’s eyes narrowed at the hesitation and his foot went back on the gas. He could usually spot a lie from a mile off and though he hadn’t spotted the bald-faced lie the mayor had told, on some level, Deckard marked him as someone not to be trusted. The man was too smooth when he didn’t have to be. It didn’t make sense and it didn’t add up.

  He turned the Jeep toward the City Hall building, running up on a curb and shooting across the lawn, carving two wide tracks in the grass. His headlights picked out the circle of small zombies, but he missed the two women standing smack in the middle of them.

  Stephanie saw them, however. It was Jaimee Lynn’s hospital gown that she caught sight of first. It made the little girl appear ghostly and her eyes had lingered long enough for her to pick out the blonde hair and the sharp angle of her thin face.

  “That’s Jaimee Lynn…John Burke’s daughter!” she cried, pointing. “And that’s…that’s Dr. Lee and that other woman from the trooper station. We should…” She couldn’t finish her sentence as Deckard spun the wheel so hard that Stephanie was thrown onto
the mayor in a tangle of arms and elbows.

  Deckard curled the Jeep around in a short arc, careening into the group of kid zombies and crushing five of them beneath two and a half tons of rubber, glass and metal. Jaimee Lynn and the rest scattered.

  “Get in!” he yelled to the two women.

  The Jeep had come on them so quickly that Thuy thought it had been aiming for her. She had nearly gone running out into the dark along with Jaimee Lynn and the other children. Thankfully, in her fright, Courtney had clung onto her, holding her in place. She was like an anchor even when Chuck reached around and opened the back door.

  The dome light displayed the oddest scene. To Thuy it seemed as though Stephanie Glowitz and the mayor had been caught in some sort of romantic moment. They had been sprawled all over each other and now, as if found in the middle of a guilty act, they were trying to rearrange themselves properly.

  In spite of the odd sight, neither woman needed to be told twice about getting in where it was safe. Thuy darted in first, followed by Courtney who tried, but just could not shut the door; there was no room. “Move over! I can’t get the door shut!”

  The back seat of the Jeep was not designed to hold four adults and so Stephanie ended up sitting on the mayor’s lap in order to free up enough room to allow the door to shut.

  As Deckard roared the Jeep onto the street again, Chuck flicked on the dome light, staring into the back seat with flinty eyes. He seemed rather angry in Thuy’s opinion, though for what reason she didn’t know.

  “Hello, Mr. Singleton,” Thuy said, giving him a worried smile—what if he had been bitten? What if he was on the verge of turning into a zombie? “I want to thank you and Mr. Deckard for rescuing us.”

  “You ain’t been bit,” he growled. That she was not bitten seemed to cause his puzzling anger to deepen.

  As Thuy knew all too well, sudden, inexplicable anger was a telling symptom in someone afflicted with the Com-cells. She gave Courtney’s leg a stiff squeeze in warning, but the woman had already made the connection and was easing her hand back to the door she had just locked. Things were going from bad to worse.