When the Dead Rise (Book 1): The Beginning

by C. M. Fick

  "A group of survivors must have locked themselves in the trailer," Ron spoke in low tones, bending to see beneath the line of trucks. He moved away from the rocking trailer, not wanting to risk drawing additional unwanted attention to them.

  "Shouldn't we let them out?" Paige asked innocently.

  Ron turned and sadly shook his head. "By the sounds of it, they aren't survivors anymore."

  A bloody hand with two missing fingers suddenly reached out from behind the truck they were standing beside and dead fingers gripped onto Ron's shoulder. Ruth cried out a warning as Ron spun. He tried to back away from the clicking teeth but the zombie held on, stumbling after him.

  "Shit!" Harris moved with lightening reflexes. Grabbing a knife from its sheath at his side he deftly pulled back on the zombies head and buried it to the hilt in the zombies chin.

  The clacking stopped and the limp body slumped to the ground, tearing the sleeve of Ron's shirt as it fell. "That was too close," he breathed.

  Someone behind Ruth retched and she turned, still in shock, to Steven hunched over with his hands braced on his knees, emptying the contents of his stomach. Paige stood beside her dad, gently patting his shoulder and making soft comforting sounds. Caleb stood beside Paula, mimicking Harris' movements as he watched the dead-again zombie twitch on the ground at Ron's feet. Ruth marveled at how resilient the children had become - adjusting to their new reality so quickly. If only she could be so lucky.

  "This guy was fresh." Harris nudged the body with the toe of his boot. "Couldn't be more than a few hours old, which means there may be other survivors in the area."

  A crack of a rifle cut through the silence and everyone turned in unison to the rear of the property.

  "We've got to go Mark." They heard Megan shout just before another shot echoed through the maze of transport trucks.

  "Just a few more," Mark shouted back as two more shots rang out.

  "Head towards the pumps," Ron hissed, pointing in the general direction. "Hopefully the shots draw the zombies towards them and away from us. I'll meet you there with the others." He turned and jogged off without a backwards glance. Ruth wanted to call after her husband, to warn him to be careful, but in a moment, he'd disappeared from sight, lost in the maze of trucks.

  "Paula, take the rear. Ruth, keep the kids between you and Steven." When they all nodded their understanding, Harris motioned for them to follow. The roar of two truck engines spurred them into action. "Let's go." They moved quickly and quietly, checking for undead between the trailers before moving forward to the next, and were soon at the edge of the parking lot.

  Before them stood the abandoned gas pumps, tattered signs hung from the displays informing patrons that diesel was no longer available. The ground around the pumps was littered with bodies; the four adults stood stunned by the scene. Ruth pulled Caleb to her in an attempt to shield the boy from the grisly sight, but he pulled away, straining to take in every detail.

  "There's Ron," Steven said, pointing down the line of trailers.

  Relief washed over Ruth as she turned to watch her husband, followed by Mark and Megan, jog towards them. Mark was holding something in his arms and Megan was carrying both hers and Mark's backpacks, which appeared to be filled to capacity.

  "What's all that?" Harris asked as the three approached.

  "We don't have time to explain," Megan huffed, handing one of the packs to Harris.

  "She's right," Ron said, glancing back over his shoulder. "There is a group of survivors in a warehouse at the rear of the property and they apparently didn't like that we found several trucks with supplies and helped ourselves. Let's get out of the immediate area, and then we'll find a place to stop and divide up what we've found."

  A little slice of normal...

  Mark and Megan filled the group in on what happened as they cautiously made their way out of the area. Apparently while Harris and Ron came back to find the others, Mark and Megan began searching the trucks behind the store. There they'd found a truck carrying a load of bottled water, another filled with beef jerky and pepperettes from one of the stores suppliers and a third, half-filled with cigarettes. While no one in their group smoked, Mark insisted they'd be a good item to have if their group ever needed to trade for supplies.

  After grabbing several cartons of smokes, and while Megan had been filling their packs with the beef products, Mark went to check out the truck with the water logo -that's when the group from the warehouse opened fire without warning. While Megan quickly finished filling their backpacks, Mark grabbed two cases of bottled water and together they made a dash for the cover of the tractor-trailer parking lot.

  That's where Ron found them, discussing how they'd find the others in the maze of trucks. They filled Ron in on what happened and were surprised when five armed men exited the warehouse, carrying two gas cans. He'd overheard two of the men talking about how they'd have to spend the next several days searching trailer by trailer to make sure they got everything of use out of the trucks. After moving the cigarettes from the third truck into the trailer of the other, and closing the doors on the bottled water truck, the men drove back to the warehouse. Ron supposed they hadn't known the contents of the trucks or expected anyone to start searching them, so they'd left them there until their supplies ran low. However, when Mark showed up, they realized the need to secure the now precious commodities so no other passers-by would come along with the same idea.

  The story shocked Ruth. They were all survivors - all in need of supplies. It wasn't enough that the men had a secure place to stay; they also wanted to hoard what was left, so they wouldn't have to go without - no matter the cost to others. She wasn't sure if she could live by this new world's rules... wasn't sure she wanted to. Mark and Megan wouldn't have been able to take all the food or water - they wouldn't have been able to carry even a quarter of what must have been there, but the men hadn't wanted them to take what little they'd been able to carry. Ruth was just glad they'd made it back safe and with what provisions they'd found.

  After a brief stop to rest and eat, the group continued east along Frontage Road since it had far fewer cars than the highway. Finally, just before the sun began its daily descent, they reached the outskirts of Sequin. Six miles from town, the traffic on the highway abruptly stopped at a concrete barricade, which ran the width of the road. While human remains littered the ground, Ruth hadn't seen a single undead since crossing the barrier; apparently, the army had been clearing the area regularly.

  "We're going to need to clear one of these houses," Ron motioned to a house, "and I'm voting on that one." It was a ranch style home with a ridiculous-looking second story addition, sticking out of the middle of the roof. There were large, boarded-up windows along the front and a tall fence ran that around both sides of the house, enclosing the backyard. To the survivors, it looked like Fort Knox.

  "I don't care where we stay, I just need to sleep," Ruth sighed, setting Paige down. Her back ached from the day's long walk. The rest of the group nodded their agreement; they all needed to unwind from the day's trek.

  They slipped into the backyard, closing and securing the gate behind them, intently listening for any signs or sounds of the undead. It didn't take long for Harris to pick the lock on the side door and soon, the group was clearing the house room by room. Ruth waited with the children in the kitchen. Luckily, the house still had power.

  Ruth opened the fridge. "There's food in the fridge that's still good..." she opened the freezer to see what it held, "and the freezer is full, so we can defrost something and have a home cooked meal tonight," she told the kids, who cheered.

  Wanting to keep herself occupied, she began to look for some grounds and filters after spotting a coffee pot in the corner of the counter. It had been twelve days since she'd had a good cup of coffee and wasn't sure when any of them would get another opportunity for some time to come. The cupboards hung open with piles of non-perishables stacked haphazardly on the counter tops, children's pictures d
rooped from the fridge and several lay scattered across the tile floor, legal-looking papers had been dumped on the table and carelessly rummaged through - the family had obviously left in a hurry. Going through the cupboards, Ruth felt like an intruder as she searched the scattered remains of a family's life.

  The coffee pot was half-full by the time Paula returned to the kitchen. "They must have been evacuated when the blockade went up." Paula inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm, there's coffee?!" She glanced around the kitchen, looking for the source of the tantalizing smell. "It looks like they packed some of their clothing and took a few of the pictures hanging on walls. They were probably only allowed to take whatever they could fit into their car."

  "I'm just glad to have electricity and running water." Steven came in with a huge grin on his face. Taking a glass from the cupboard, he filled it to the brim with tap water. "The showers are working and there are enough beds we can all sleep in comfort tonight." He drained the glass, sighing in contentment.

  A loud beep made the three adults jump and quickly scan the room for the source. Caleb stood at an answering machine with a sheepish look on his face; he and Paige had sat so quietly that Ruth almost forgot they were there. "It was blinking," he shrugged. They all fell silent when a woman's worried voice filled the kitchen.

  "Kat, I just got your voicemail and was hoping to catch you before they evacuated the family; I must have just missed you. The news up here hasn't reported any oil spills in Texas, which is strange because I found online reports in both the Houston and Austin newspapers. Maybe it's already under control and they don't want people making a big deal of it? I tried to call your cell but the message said you were out of the service area - where's the FEMA camp they took you to? The moon? We're praying for you and the family. That everyone's safe and being well taken care of. Call me as soon as you get home." The answering machine beeped again and an automated voice announced that the call came in a week earlier.

  "Hey Ruth?" Mark poked his head in the room, breaking the silence that had fallen after the answering machine clicked off. "Ron asked me to come get you. He's upstairs." He bounced over to the coffee pot, "Hey, is this coffee for us?"

  Ruth nodded, turning to get two mugs from the cupboard. "I'll take a coffee up to Ron. Mark, go find Megan and Harris, tell them there's coffee and once you're all here, you can figure out what we're going to have for dinner. Defrost it and when I come back down, I'll get dinner started. Oh," she said, as she poured the steaming liquid into the mugs, "make sure to start another pot of coffee once this one's empty." She pointed to the grounds she'd left on the counter. I hope he does as asked... she thought, I worry about him. She picked up the two steaming mugs and went in search of her husband.

  Ruth found him on the second floor, standing in what she suspected was the master suite. The room had large windows, allowing them a clear view from the western horizon, where the sun's last rays of light colored the sky a deep orange, all the way to the east, where bright spotlights illuminated the road and surrounding area. The blockade. She wasn't sure why, but the sight of it made her shiver.

  "I've brought you some coffee," Ruth said, holding out the mug for Ron.

  He turned with a weary smile. "I was hoping we'd find some once I realized the electricity was on." He held the mug beneath his nose, inhaling deeply. "I miss freshly brewed coffee the most I think."

  "So what do you think our best course of action is for getting around the blockade?" she asked, sipping her steaming coffee; the taste was heavenly.

  Ron shrugged, "I'm not sure. We'll have to watch their patrol patterns tonight and see what makes the most sense in the morning. I can't decide if we're better off trying it in the daylight or at night. I'm sure they have night vision goggles, but we'd be just as easy to spot in the daylight as well... and with all the farm fields surrounding us, we'll have little cover no matter when we go."

  Ruth nodded, not taking her eyes off the movements of the soldiers behind the concrete wall. From this distance, they looked little more than dots on the horizon. "We'll need to keep our use of lights to a minimum so as not to draw attention from the military, but I figure we can safely use the showers and make a hot meal."

  "Someone will have to stay on watch, but I think a little normalcy would do all of us some good."

  At the end of the night, they all went to bed clean and with full stomachs; a sense of safety they hadn't felt since the dead began to rise, filling their hearts with hope.

  The first, last stand...

  "Holy fucking shit!"

  Ruth started awake at the outburst and turned to make sure it hadn't woken the kids; they still lay asleep beside her. Ron insisted that Ruth sleep with Paige and Caleb in the master suite since it had the king size bed, but she hadn't expected to be woken in the middle of the night by whoever was on guard duty.

  Gunshots rang through the night bringing Ruth to full consciousness. She sat bolt upright, and as her eyes focused on Mark she asked, "What's going on?"

  Footsteps thundered up the stairs and a moment later Steven and Harris stumbled through the door. "We heard some moaning coming from the front of the house... then the guns - what's happening?"

  Mark turned and looked to each of them; his face was drawn, his eyes were wide, and his mouth moved but no words came out. When he realized he couldn't explain, he simply pointed out the window.

  Automatic gunfire began to go off at the barricade; the men bolted to the window and as they looked out, their jaws dropped. Frightened by the men's reaction, Ruth got up to look for herself, and as she gazed into the night, felt her stomach drop to her feet. The dinner they'd all worked so hard in preparing, tried to jump up her throat.

  Outside the window was a sea of undead.

  The lights from the barricade illuminated the front of the crowd. They stumbled forward in a jagged line as wide as both the east and westbound lanes, spilling down the embankments and filling both frontage roads as well. When Ruth turned to look west to see how deep the horde was, she could no longer hold back the bile. She turned and vomited. She closed her eyes tight; willing away the image burned into her brain.

  With the little light cast by the moon, Ruth saw that the horde extended further back than she could see. There were hundreds of thousands of undead marching past their hiding spot and if even one decided to investigate the house for living, they didn't stand a chance at survival. The sheer number of undead could easily level the house with enough incentive.

  "Go get everyone upstairs right now. Tell them to bring some bottles of water from the kitchen but to be as quiet as possible; one wrong sound and we're joining that horde," Harris hissed to Mark. When he didn't move, Harris shook his shoulder until the boy tore his eyes from the outside and focused on the man. "Go." He pointed out the bedroom door.

  As Mark disappeared down the steps, a loud boom shook the windows and light illuminated the room. At the noise, both Paige and Caleb began to cry; Ruth hurried to quiet them. "What was that?" she asked Steven when he came to the bedside, holding out his arms for Paige.

  "I think someone threw a grenade," he replied quietly, a grim expression on his face. He focused back on Paige and began to rock her back and forth, murmuring softly.

  "What was that loud noise?" Caleb said, looking up at Ruth as he knuckled away his startled tears.

  "Shhh," Ruth pressed her finger to her lips, "there are a lot of zombies outside and we need to keep very quiet. That loud boom was the army fighting, trying to kill them." The room slowly filled with the members of their group who'd been sleeping downstairs; each carried several bottles of water and some leftovers, not that anyone wanted to eat. Screams from the military unit could be heard in between explosions, and over the moans of the undead, but Ruth knew that nothing could be done to help. Soon enough the gunfire, explosions and screams ceased. Ruth knew there was no one left alive at the barricade, because even the moans of the undead faded into silence.

  The night wore on and the horde continued to pass,
traveling into the unsuspecting town of Seguin as the survivors sat, huddled together in silence. Several times, Ruth nodded off into an uneasy sleep, only to start awake when the slightest noise emanated from the main floor. She finally decided to stretch her legs when she noticed the soft orange glow coming from the eastern horizon. The sun was rising and they would be able to see the full extent of their situation. Upon looking out the window, she wished she hadn't moved from her spot on the floor; her sore back and knees be damned.

  While the sky to the east was turning a soft pinkish purple, the orange glow she's noticed emanated from Seguin - from the fires spreading across the town, backlighting the horde as it continued east. There were still a few stragglers wandering past the house, but the largest part of the mass had already moved beyond the barricade. Ruth could see the devastation the horde had inflicted on the blockade. The concrete barriers were pushed aside and dismembered bodies lay strewn about the highway. Just beyond the barrier, it appeared the horde had split into two; a majority of the zombies continued along the highway, while a portion followed the access road into town.

  "They didn't stand a chance," a voice spoke softly from beside Ruth. She hadn't noticed Mark's approach; she'd been too lost in the destruction beyond the window. She turned towards him, noticing the haunted expression and the dark circles beneath his eyes. His bravado from the day before was gone, replaced by fear and uncertainty. "There were so many," he went on, not taking his eyes off the town, "nothing could have stopped them, and the people in that town were completely unprepared for what happened." He turned haunted eyes on Ruth, searching her face - for what, she wasn't sure. "Is this what's going to happen everywhere? Will we ever truly be safe again?"

  Ruth put her arm around Mark and was surprised when he buried his face in her shoulder, his body shaking in silent sobs. His usually callous attitude made it easy to forget that he was still just a teenager. "We made it through the night," she whispered softly. "We're safe here for the time being and once we get to Buchanan Lake, we'll be even safer." She wasn't sure she believed her own words, but knew Mark needed reassurances. Movement to her right caught her eye, and she glanced over to where Ron sat watching the two of them, sorrow and pity filling his expression, knowing they'd never be truly safe ever again.