Still, the Zombies continued never-ending, but I was sure it had to do with the direct attack and my blind panic. Surely there was an end to all of these Feeders!
Vaughan stomped down on the gas pedal one more time and the van lurched forward enough to keep the momentum. He pressed his foot all the way to the floor and the engine made a sick, grinding noise but cooperated. Slowly the Feeders seemed to slip away. We were cruising now, the car going about as fast as it could go- 40mph. And we all slunk back into relaxed positions as the last Zombie behind the van got tripped up trying to run with the new breakneck speeds and slid down the back and finally to the ground. Nelson’s Feeder, the one that was trying to give him a life-altering handshake, watched as his own arm popped right off and his fingers stayed lodged in the window- waving at us in an undead sort of way.
Nobody made a sound as we waited to see if this could possibly be real, if we really defeated all those Feeders and were driving off into the sunset. Okay, not exactly sunset. More like mid-morning with no happily-ever-after in sight.
We passed a few more Feeders on our escape route. These were calling out to each other with a horrifying guttural screech. They were communicating something.
And that was scarier than almost dying.
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself off the floor. While the vehicle was caked with blood from top to bottom, it was still running. Thank God!
A rush of relief washed over me and I could barely believe we’d made it out of yet-another harrowing situation without losing anyone.
Until, then, until that very moment, when I realized our harrowing situation was not exactly over.
The engine made a loud, angry popping sound; steam exploded upward from the hood. The steering wheel shook violently as Vaughan struggled to grapple control, and we swerved wildly before the engine finally sputtered and died.
So… this wasn’t going to turn out good for us.
Now that the engine was off, we were mostly quiet. Our loud, panting breaths and checking of guns were the only sounds to break up the tense silence.
And the moaning- there was always moaning.
And it seemed to be chasing us.
We looked around, each of us taking responsibility to find out what was coming. Nobody had more than five bullets left apiece and after those were gone, we were armed with hunting knives only.
Hunting knives were definitely dangerous, and better than nothing but the thing about them was… you had to be in very close range to use them.
Vaughan angrily cranked down the window again and Nelson followed suit. Both of them perched their bums on the window ledge and readied their small handguns. Hendrix climbed over Haley and me, followed by his brothers.
“Haley and Reagan, stay with Page,” Vaughan ordered.
Tyler started hyperventilating in her captain’s chair. With her knees pulled up to her chest, her body rocked back and forth as tears streamed down her face. Shocking sobs racked her body and every appendage shook uncontrollably. Miller climbed into the seat with her and put his arms around her, but he didn’t seem capable of comforting her.
I watched them for a second. I understood her fear and her inability to fully come to terms with what we would have to do to survive. The sight of her was unnerving but natural. This was the natural or normal reaction for anyone faced with a literal throng of Zombies chasing them down.
So why had I never reacted like this?
Even after my parents died, I never broke down like this. Was there something wrong with me? Was I a cold-hearted bitch that didn’t respect life or care about people I loved?
I wanted to give myself credit and blame courage and strength of spirit. But if I was honest with myself, it felt more like stubborn willfulness not to die. And that wasn’t the same thing.
I ignored Tyler and Miller and refocused my attention on the back of the van.
“Stay in the van for as long as you can,” Vaughan commanded. “And don’t let any of them get inside.”
“Geez, Vaughan, with instructions like that, I regret voting you off the island,” Haley grumbled sarcastically.
“You voted me off the island?” Vaughan sounded amused but his arms never wavered as he held them out the window.
“In the last tribunal,” Haley admitted. “It was either you or Reagan and I like her better.”
We had about forty-five seconds before the Feeders were in range.
“Haley,” Nelson growled from the front seat. She peeked over my shoulder and I watched her eyes meet his. They were so deep with something unsaid that I felt like I was intruding in their moment.
Haley held Nelson’s gaze and after a long release of breath she said, “I know, Nelson.”
“Good,” he replied on a sigh.
And then they were both back to the hard, angry killers we all knew and loved.
I wondered if that was like an “I love you” declaration. Haley couldn’t possibly love Nelson. We hadn’t known the Parkers long enough for there to be love developed.
But, maybe? Haley seemed pretty into him. But love? I didn’t know if I was ready for her to be in love! How could she be ready?
Unfortunately I didn’t have time to ask her because Hendrix had started shooting and that meant we were engaged- with the Zombie threat, not to each other.
At least fifty of them, ran toward us with a steady pace. Some were dragging limp feet, some seemed to have every appendage in working order, some were crawling and some were fighting through the crowd with a more intense purpose than the others.
Those with the most enthusiasm had the reddest eyes, the most bloodthirsty expressions and, if I had to guess, the most-pungent smells.
If what Kane had told me, if Zombies really didn’t smell bad if they weren’t eating flesh and blood, then the ones that smelled the worst had to be gorging on humanity every chance they got.
I shuddered, thinking about how bad the smell was a few minutes ago.
These Feeders ate often.
That was not good news for us.
Hendrix hit one and then another, bull’s-eye to the forehead. Harrison joined the effort, but after three shots his gun was empty. King was no better and after a few rounds his gun was empty too. Meanwhile, the marathon of Feeders just kept getting closer and closer.
“Here!” I shouted and pressed my two half-loaded guns into Harrison’s hands, grabbed Haley’s and handed them over to King. We both pulled out our knives. I unsheathed mine and held the blade carefully, but Haley kept hers in hand while she held Page tightly against her. Page slipped her hand into my free one and we sat huddled on the floor, the three of us finding strength in each other.
Tyler and Miller slid down to the floor next to us and in the confined space of the van our legs tangled together and our bodies layered each other. It was hard to care though, almost impossible. It didn’t matter in this moment if I found Tyler obnoxious and embarrassingly unprepared for the world she lived in. It didn’t matter that I knew how to shoot a gun and had survived this far. We were all going to die. We were all going to meet the same fate, so who cared if there was a difference in our survival skills. Her cushioned life of protection before and my hard-earned talent for aiming my gun would meet the same end in the same way.
This was it.
I chanced a glance over the back seat to see how we were doing. The majority of frenzied Feeders trampled the front line of fallen Zombies while some dropped off to consume their fallen brethren.
I would never get over how disturbing it was to watch a Zombie eat another Zombie. And now, on top of the pounding, heavy footsteps of the undead and their repulsive grunts and screeching, I had to listen to the tearing of flesh and the popping of bones.
A tear sneaked out the corner of my eye and rolled down my cheek. I wasn’t an overly emotional girl, but I didn’t want to have that happen to me. I didn’t want to lay face down on the gravelly pavement and feel the bite of teeth and clawing of nails into my soft, pliable skin. I didn
’t want my muscle ripped from bone, or my skin peeled away from my body. I just wanted to live, I just wanted to survive.
A sob hitched in my throat and Haley grabbed my neck and forced my face to hers.
I was panicking now. I could feel the cold dread creeping over my skin like a million spiders, pulling me under, into the depths of hysteria.
“No, Reagan,” she demanded and her own tears shimmered behind her green eyes. “Don’t let them get to you. You’re stronger than this. We’re stronger than this. We’re going to make it, damn it. So stop it right now.”
Her words felt like a soothing balm on my frayed nerves and I nodded. With a strength I didn’t know I possessed I reined back my consuming terror and forced my emotions under control.
We were going to make it. We were going to make it. We were going to make it.
A Feeder broke through the mass and lunged at Hendrix, he aimed and shot immediately… but nothing happened, just the clicking of an empty gun.
I know I gasped, but my entire body felt utterly frozen as I watched Hendrix defend himself. Without hesitation he pulled out his huge knife and dodged the waving, grabbing arms and plunged it into the Feeder’s eye. Blood spurted everywhere at the contact, but Hendrix yanked the knife from his eye socket and the heavy body fell dead to the ground.
Hendrix stood up in the back of the van then, awkwardly as half his body was inside the car and half of it was out. The empty clicking sound could be heard in more than one place now- first Vaughan, then Nelson, then King, then Harrison. The front doors opened and shut as Vaughan and Nelson readied themselves on the outside of the vehicle, armed with knives. Hendrix jumped down to the pavement and his younger brothers followed suit.
I pushed up to my knees, clutching my knife against my chest.
The tears fell then; I couldn’t stop them. The panic stayed at bay, but the impending loss of life gutted my soul and I couldn’t stop the despair from choking me.
The Feeders had been somewhat fended off with the constant barrage of gunfire, but not anymore. Now we were available and they weren’t going to meet much resistance.
There were maybe thirty of them left, plenty to overpower us and rip us apart.
As one unit they moved in to attack and I readied myself for their teeth.
Because we were not going to make it.
Chapter Four
There was no time for any last declarations of love or friendship. This was it.
The boys slashed across the faces of as many Feeders as they could but in seconds they would be overpowered.
I gave Page another hand squeeze and scrambled forward, ignoring Haley altogether. That was a face I could not look at before I threw myself at death’s feet, literally.
I crawled over the back seat and jumped through the broken window, stabbing a Feeder directly in the nose that was headed for King’s face. I shouldn’t have been strong enough to plunge it all the way through until the tip of my knife poked out of the back of his skull, but their bones were brittle and weak from disease, their brains mushy and ready for death.
I let the momentum of the dead body carry my hand to the ground and stomped on his mutilated face so I could pull out my weapon.
I heard the slashing of blade into flesh and felt the warm spray of blood across my back. When I righted myself with weapon in hand I watched another Feeder crumble to the ground.
Glancing up, I mouthed “thank you” to King who had returned the favor of a saved life.
I kicked out and stabbed, kicked out and then stabbed. Wash, rinse, repeat. There was a synchronization in not getting eaten, I just had to find the right rhythm. We had maybe a minute before one of us got bit if we were lucky.
But then it happened.
The familiar sound of tires speeding over pavement.
Unable to look toward the source of the sound I kept fighting, kept struggling to survive. I had to believe there was hope in that sound. I had to hope there was salvation.
Suddenly the most beautiful sound of my entire life echoed through the ugly morning- gunfire.
And lots of it.
It sounded like machine guns as the fast popping beat out a frantic melody of death and rescue. I continued to fight through those closest to us. My arms were weakening and my stomach muscles were on fire as I threw every ounce of my body into every single kill. I would keep fighting until I died. I would keep surviving until there was nothing left of me.
Murky blood clouded my vision as it continued to spray across my face. I had worked my shirt over my nose, but it kept falling down every time I managed any quick, jerky movements, which was all the time.
If killing Zombies made me a freaking Zombie I was going to be so pissed.
The machine gun rattled off behind us competing with pounding footsteps now and handguns that picked off the Feeders closest to the van.
I swung out at a Feeder inches from taking a bite out of my arm, but I missed. My blade sliced across the bridge of his nose, making a deep, bloody gash, but I didn’t make it all the way to the brain so he kept coming.
I pulled my arm back to do it again when his grimy hands caught my arm in his ridiculously strong grasp. He cocked his head back on impulse and opened his mouth to reveal jagged, black teeth coated in a white, sticky film. I kicked at him with my boot but he didn’t even register the force of my foot.
I tried to cry out for Hendrix, but fear of the moment had almost rendered me speechless.
Then a heavy arm over my shoulder and the cool, black metal of a gun slid by my face only to blow a hole right through that Feeder’s open mouth.
I sagged with relief and bumped into the firm body of the man behind me.
I turned to say thank you but he was already picking off the rest of the Feeders. Boom. Boom. Boom.
With each release of the trigger I breathed a little bit easier.
I was knee deep in the bodies of the undead and covered in their filthy, diseased blood, but I was alive. And when I swung my head to the left, so was Hendrix. So was King. So was Harrison.
Finally, the last of the Feeders were taken care of and the guns stopped firing. A deafening silence fell over us and my ears rang with the force of it. Going from the scream and cry of battle to nothing was a shock to my system, but a welcome one.
My ragged breaths were dragged in and out of my chest painfully, but I turned around so I could see if everyone else made it. I ripped my shirt off, turning it inside out in the process and wiped at my face. I had a tank top underneath, but my bare arms felt especially exposed after such a vicious attack.
I met Vaughan’s eyes when I could see again and he raised an exhausted arm that let me know he was okay. Nelson did the same thing and I marveled at our good fortune. I honestly could not believe any of us were still alive.
Finally my gaze fell on our unexpected help. Three black Suburbans sat parked askew in the middle of the highway through the small Oklahoma town that had almost been the end of us. Two standalone machine guns were propped in the back of two of the vehicles and armed men and women stood all over.
They were all older than us- rough and world weary with hard masks of silent anger. This was a militia group, obviously a well-off one.
But they had saved our lives. And they included women as active members of society. I hoped these were good signs.
The man standing closest to me reached out a hand to Hendrix and said, “Probably a good thing we happened upon y’all.”
Hendrix broke out into a smile that looked partly deranged with his beard bloodied around his white teeth and his eyes wide and dilated from the fight. “Probably.”
“Y’all alright?” the man asked, glancing over us a bit suspiciously. He was probably their leader. He looked the oldest, but also the hardest. His graying hair was pulled back into a stringy ponytail at the nape of his neck and his salt-and-peppered beard hadn’t been trimmed long before he had the option of good personal hygiene. His leather jacket was soft and well-worn and the stee
l-toed boots he wore seemed to complete his motorcycle-man ensemble.
Except, he wasn’t part of a biker gang.
He was driving relatively new Suburbans and surrounded by people carrying a seemingly unlimited supply of weapons.
“We’re good,” Vaughan called out from the front of the van. “Nobody got bit, right?”
We responded with the negative and I sucked in another relieved breath.
“Thanks for the help,” Hendrix said sincerely.
“Not a problem,” the guy smiled and I could see three gold teeth mixed among his yellowing others. “We saw the trouble you were in. It was our pleasure. We want to take as many of those goddamn creatures out as we can.”
“We are of the same mind,” Hendrix grinned. “Where’re you headed?”
“Arkansas,” the man’s gaze narrowed and eyed Hendrix suspiciously. ”Y’all?”
“Not Arkansas,” Hendrix answered with a sense of humor.
This caused the other man to break out into another one of his multi-colored grins. He clasped Hendrix on the shoulder and declared, “We don’t run into many scenarios in which anyone could have made it out of what y’all were facing. But I get the impression that if we hadn’t have showed up y’all would have been just fine.”
Hendrix was quiet for a moment and shrugged. “Maybe.”
Not maybe. There was no maybe. We were so dead without these guys.
But I understood Hendrix’s reluctance to make it seem like we owed this guy.
The guy nodded back over his shoulder and turned back to Hendrix, “We passed a bridge not five minutes that way. There was a nice-sized creek running underneath. Why don’t y’all go get cleaned up and we’ll share a meal before we go our separate ways- Arkansas and not Arkansas.”
“We could use a creek,” Hendrix answered subtly. “And we could use a meal.”
We stood there kind of staring at each other for a few more minutes. I didn’t know if this was like a stand-off, should-we-trust-each-other thing? Or if we were making sure there were no more straggling Feeders.
Love & Decay (Season 1): Episodes 1-6 Page 36