Jessie let go of the fence and turned to his left and started walking back towards his stream and away from the airfield. As he did he could hear an entirely new level of chaos erupting behind him. He walked faster, but could still hear the sounds of the slaughter in the quiet morning air. Screams were now mixed with moans and animal like growls and hisses. Jessie started to run. He ran north through farmland across two lane streets and through woods until he came to the interstate. US Route 78 was in front of him. It ran east to west and there was no way of going around it. He was thirty yards back and the highway was elevated above him. All he could see from his position was the guardrail and tops of the taller vehicles, but he could hear everything he needed to know… the screams, the gunshots, the guttural sounds of people eating other people. He could hear babies crying and dogs barking. In a second Jessie decided the picture his mind was drawing was probably much worse than what was actually going on. He ripped off the backpack opened the zipper and pulled out the winter gloves and hat. He didn’t know what protection the hat would provide, but instinct told him the less uncovered flesh the better. The gloves weren’t chainmail but they were thick, with leather palms and finger backings. Once the gloves were on Jessie bit down hard on his thumb. It hurt his teeth more than his thumb. He didn’t know if these biters had superhuman jaw strength or not, but he was going on the assumption they did not. Jessie had seen all the Romero zombie movies and all the wannabes. He read several fiction books blaming everything from mad cow disease to a meteor to a mad scientist in the Middle East engineering an undead biological weapon. That was all the information Jessie had on the subject. That was his point of reference. On a practical level Jessie knew that when someone gets hurt, when they have suffered a trauma they become weaker, not stronger. He hoped this held true for the infected, or undead, or reanimated or whatever the fuck you wanted to call them.
He took a deep breath and removed the folding night stick from his pocket. He flicked it out to its full 21 inches. It has a small ball bearing on the end. It felt heavy to Jessie, he liked it. He had an idea on what to do with the shotgun, but it would be a game time decision once he saw the score. He took the first steps out of the tree line and into the clearing before the highway embankment when his phone rang.
He dove back into the woods reaching into his jeans pocket franticly. He slid the unlock bar.
“Mauri, are you OK?” Jessie asked.
“Jess, we are alright. We are at the mall.”
For a moment Jessie thought she was fucking with him and then for another moment he thought she went to the mall because it was the thing to do in a zombie invasion.
“The mall?” He asked.
“I know. We were on the way to daycare and traffic was really bad and there were a lot of cruisers and ambulances. I thought there was a bad accident up further on 20 so we turned and I was going to try going past the mall. It was just as bad. Where are you Jess?” She asked suddenly realizing she didn’t know.
“I’m fine Mauri, on my way home. It’s going to be slow, but it’s safe. Tell me about the mall.”
“We got as far as the train tracks and there was gridlock. We sat there for half an hour. Then behind us there was a big commotion and people started running and screaming. I got scared. There were people covered in blood chasing everyone. I freaked and smashed my way out of the lane and over the grass and headed back towards twenty. I took the cut off road and ended up behind the mall. The employee entrance to Sears was open so I grabbed the boys and ran in. The people working knew something was going on. I was pretty hysterical. I told them to lock all the doors and not to let anyone else in. People were going crazy out there.” Mauri said and paused.
“Is anyone with you hurt?”
“Not anymore.” Mauri answered.
“Not anymore?”
“No.” Mauri said softly. There was a long pause.
“One of the people that came in behind me was bitten. He said an old lady bit him and he felt funny, like he was drunk. He collapsed and then got up again. One of the guys in the store ran at him and sunk a metal rake into his head. A fucking metal rake Jessie.” Mauri said and started crying.
“It’s alright baby. He did the right thing.”
“I fucking know he did Jessie. I just didn’t need to see it. Luckily I saw it coming and got the boys away.” She paused again, longer this time. “Jessie, these are zombies, aren’t they.”
His answer came fast and steady, as though she had asked him if he wanted her to bring home a coffee.
“Yes, for lack of a more complicated answer. People seem to be dying and them coming back to life. They don’t know what caused it; they just know is started in the Village in New York sometime last night.”
“Jesus Christ. Where are you exactly?”
“I’m on Route 78 heading east. I think I’ll be home sometime tomorrow. I am trying to stay away from populated areas.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m wearing protection and I found a gun. I’m perfectly safe, there doesn’t seem to be anything going on around here besides a lot of traffic.” He said, lying.
“What should we do?” She asked.
“Where exactly in the mall are you?”
“Sears, on the second floor.”
“How many of you are there and how many men?
“Me, the boys, three women and three men.”
“Has anyone blocked the stairs?”
“Yes. We locked out the elevator, and we rolled twenty giant tool boxes down the escalator. They said they are going to throw some mattresses and couches next. I don’t think anyone is coming up here.”
Jessie thought this was good news. The mall was only one floor, but Sears was two. They had shut off the elevator and were in the process of blocking the escalator. Jessie pictured the layout of the store in his mind.
“Does anyone have a gun?” He asked.
“No, but they think there might be one in the security room in the mall, and some at Cabela’s.”
“That’s a bad idea, but if someone does go the rest of you have to lock the door behind him and make him prove his is not hurt before you let him back in.”
“I think that is already the plan. The kid with the rake thinks he’s Bruce Campbell.” She said.
“Do you have any cash money on you?” He asked.
“Yes, I have laundry money in the diaper bag.”
“You brought the diaper bag?” He asked slightly amused.
“I grabbed it when I unbuckled the baby. It was habit.”
“That’s great. How much money between the diaper bag and your wallet?”
“Forty five dollars.”
How many ones and fives?”
“All of it.”
Jessie smiled. Thank God for laundry day.
“Alright, listen. You have to be careful not to be seen, but you have to go into the break room near the bathroom in the bedding department and strip the candy machine of food. Use half the money to do it. Snickers first, then Pop Tarts, and then go down the line on what you think has the most sustenance. Use the rest to buy Gatorade and water. Don’t let anyone see you.” He said.
“Alright, but why? We could just break the glass.”
“No Mauri, there is no we, it’s only you and the boys. The others are there to serve your purpose, which is keeping yourself and our children alive until I get there. Hide the food in the diaper bag and use it sparingly. Only keep one bottle of water in sight and refill it from the sink or bubbler. Stash the diaper bag where no one will find it, but where you can get to it easily.”
“Jessie, you are scaring me.”
“You need to be scared. You need to be scared for your life. If it takes me longer than I think it will to get home things could get very ugly. You need to be ready to dig in.”
“I understand.” She said sounding renewed.
“Good baby. Get the food, hide the bag, and find a good weapon. Sporting goods is on the second
floor, find a youth baseball bat that you can swing good, or a hockey stick.”
“How about a cricket bat?” She asked.
“Very funny.” He said cracking a much needed smile.
“I love you.” She said.
“I know you do. I’m sorry I wasn’t home for all this. Stay put and stay safe. Have a place to fall back to, like an office or a bathroom, someplace that locks if you can find it. If it gets bad hide yourself and the boys. Don’t try to leave the store. It’s only going to get worse outside. I know it’s shitty, but additional people means less food and water for you.”
“I understand. We will be waiting for you.”
Jessie pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the display.
“Alright, it’s five past nine, call me back in four hours – one PM. Do you have a charger?” He asked.
“No.”
“Then turn your phone off as soon as we hang up, don’t turn it back on until you are going to call me.”
“Alright baby, please be careful.”
“I love you and I’ll see you soon.” He said and hung up.
Chapter 2 – Route 78- Eastbound
Nothing in any Hollywood movie, or graphic novel could prepare Jessie Brewster for things he saw, smelled, and felt once he climbed up the embankment and got onto Route 78. He longed for the visions his mind had provided before the climb, when he could only hear the chaos from the ground below. Now that he saw the horrors with his own eyes, he could never un-see them and he would never forget. Jessie went forward all the same, knowing he would see much more on this journey…
He climbed over the guard rail between a yellow school bus and a white panel truck with a picture of a giant loaf of bread on the side. Both vehicles were mostly in the breakdown lane. The truck’s nose was against the rail and there was a big SUV slammed into the rear of the bus. This created a barrier that would require jumping the rail or climbing under the big dead machines. The space between the two vehicles was nine inches. Jessie could see blurs running past on the other side. The screaming was much louder than when he was down below, safe in the grass. The moaning and ripping and sloshing sounds were horrific. All Jessie could picture was someone eating a giant watermelon, but he knew there were no watermelons on the other side of the vehicles, just people in various stages of life, death and rebirth. He stepped closer to the opening and saw every nightmare he ever had coming true.
On the ground lay a man in his mid-forties. His face was gone, chewed off down to the bones. His eyes were still in the sockets like the poster of that B horror movie. His teeth and jaw were intact, but there were no lips to cover them. His neck was gone. All that was left was the exposed spinal column. His chest seemed to be intact, protected by a bulky black vest. His arms were missing altogether and there was a trail of blood leading away from the body in two different directions. His legs were still there covered by loose denim jeans. His feet were gone. Jessie lifted up on tip toes to see beyond the place where feet should have been. What he saw made his stomach roll. He clamped his hands to his mouth to muffle the scream. Sitting on the road was a boy no older than four, and an adult Jessie assumed was his mother. Each of them was eating a foot, in a macabre mockery of corn on the cob. They grunted like apes between bites and shook their heads frantically to get the tough meat off of the bone.
Jessie lay on the ground facing the bus trying to get under control, watching for anyone that heard him. From behind the front tire of the bus a child’s face appeared. His face and hair were caked in blood, some fresh, some hours old. There were bits of what looked like roast beef between his teeth. His eyes were red and puffy. Most of his left cheek and left ear were gone. There were obvious bite marks on his chin and neck. He was looking at Jessie with a vacant stare, but Jessie knew he was about to strike.
As Jessie got to his feet, the boy scrambled to his feet from under the bus. Jessie stood still and waited. The boy lunged at Jessie. Jessie leapfrogged the boy and ran into the open door of the school bus. He slammed the lever and the door closed behind him. He crashed into the driver’s seat and froze. He watched the boy through the glass. He had overshot Jessie by five steps and thumped into the guard rail. He recovered and turned around. He had no idea where Jessie could have gone. He paid the bus no attention and crawled back under. He came out on the other side and picked up the foot he had been snacking on before being disturbed.
Jessie suddenly realized he had no clue what was behind him on the bus. He spun in his chair and took in the rows of seats. They were empty and the back door was closed. No windows appeared to be broken and he counted five dead bodies on the floor near the back of the bus. Based on what he had seen so far this morning, he was fairly confident the span of time it took for the dead to come back to life had passed since he got over the railing, saw and escaped the little boy. But Jessie was not taking any chances. He took the shotgun off his shoulder and studied it until he was confident he knew how it operated. He stood slowly and started towards the back of the bus. He checked each seat from above before committing to stepping forward. There were no surprises hiding in the seats. He was grateful for that. When he got to the back he could see a giant pool of blood under the downward facing bodies. He used the barrel of the shotgun to turn the one on top over. She was fifteen or sixteen and wearing a cheerleader windbreaker. Her name was embroidered under the school logo. She was Kelly, member of the Elizabeth New Jersey Queen’s cheer squad, and she had a gunshot wound on her right temple. All four of her friends were cheerleaders and had matching wounds. Jessie looked around and found no gun. He was trying to piece together what happened when he heard the bus’s door window break. He must have made enough noise to get noticed inside the vehicle. There were six dead things crowding the door. Jessie didn’t think they broke the window as a planned thing; it was just the weight of the bodies on the cheap glass panel. Once the glass was broken the dead things stumbled up the three steps and were in the bus.
Jessie turned and ran to the back of the bus, kicked up the emergency exit latch and kicked the door open. No alarm sounded. Jessie jumped onto the hood of the SUV to the left of the exit. From the hood he jumped onto the bus’s roof, he ran the length of the bus and launched himself at the back door of the panel truck. He caught and pulled himself up onto the big white truck with the giant loaf of bread on the side. Once he was on his feet he realized he had dropped the shotgun somewhere between the glass breaking and now.
“Fuck.” He said out loud and looked up in the direction he was facing.
“Fuck.” He repeated.
As far as he could see there was bumper to bumper traffic on both the eastbound and westbound lanes of Route 78. In between those cars were variations of the scene with the little boy and the body. There were people still on their feet running. Some were being chased while others seemed to be moving aimlessly. Groups of zombies were huddled around piles of the recently killed. The ones with enough of their heads and necks intact were coming back to life and joining their killers. There was a man in a business suit standing on top of his Lincoln Navigator fifteen cars away. He waved at Jessie like a neighbor on a porch a couple houses down. Jessie waved back. The man lowered his hand and head and didn’t look up again.
Jessie turned to look in the direction he wanted to go, across the three eastbound lanes, across the median and then the three westbound lanes on the other side. He could car hop from here to the middle, but the middle was thick with people and zombies. It would be insane to make a run for it and hope for the best. He took a deep breath and spun in a very slow circle surveying everything around him.
The man standing on his Navigator was fifteen cars straight ahead. Ten beyond that and two lanes over there was an ambulance. Three cars ahead of that there was a tow truck in the middle lane. Jessie started car hopping towards the man. Once he was five cars away Jessie started yelling.
“Hey brother, how you doin’ over there?” Jessie asked
“I just watched my boss
eat a nurse.” The man in the suit said with a thick English accent.
“Are you bit?”
“Yeah, but it’s not bad. I cleaned it out with my tea.”
Jessie felt sorry for the guy, but he now knew how he was going to cross the median.
“You want to get out of here?” Jessie asked.
“And go where? I had the radio on. Everything east of Allentown is fucked. My wife Liz is on Long Island. I want to go there.”
“That’s where I was heading.” Jessie said lying. “Start making your way to the ambulance. Stay on the rooftops. Stay off the low roofs and go the long way if you have to. I’ll meet you there in a few.”
The man started for the ambulance. He took a long, looping path as Jessie made his way to the tow truck and then back to the ambulance. He was taking bigger risks on lower cars so he was moving faster, but the man in the suit would still beat him by a fair amount.
Jessie found what he had hoped for on the tow truck, two five gallon gas containers, both full. He also found a bonus - a small plastic tote with four road flares in it. That made things much easier. Jessie was not looking forward to trying to find a lighter. It was very slow going from the tow truck to the ambulance with the gas. Jessie stayed on the high roofs and took his time. Only twice did a zombie make a grab for him. There was still too much fresh meat on the ground to put in much effort. On his way to the tow truck he had seen a middle aged woman sitting in her car suddenly open her door and try to make a run for it. She only took ten steps before she was swarmed. The man in the suit reached down and took the cans from Jessie one at a time. Jessie got on the roof and looked around. They were less than five feet from the guard rail in the far left lane, an easy jump from this height. Jessie liked the idea of a grass landing much better than asphalt or metal railing. The median was still very populated, with the ratio turning in favor of the undead. Every so often a living runner would come from one direction or another. They never lasted long. Right before Jessie made his way down the hood he watched as two runners came at each other from opposite directions and saw each other. They had each seen the horror and despair on the others face and both stopped running. They were three feet apart when the swarm engulfed them.
Sawkill [Omnibus] Page 2