"We need ammunition," Jeremy said. "And the keys for the locks on these things." Locks had been placed on the triggers of all of the weapons; a safeguard against would-be robbers simply picking up a gun and loading it with their own bullets. He stepped behind the counter where the cash register stood and looked around. He rattled a locked file cabinet that rested behind the counter, but it held fast. Tanya saw what he was doing, and stepped in front of him. She grasped the handle of the cabinet and pulled; the file cabinet's lock made a popping sound as it snapped open, and the draw rolled out. The two sorted through the miscellaneous contents until Jeremy picked out and held up a ring of keys triumphantly. He tossed them to Chris, who began flipping through the keys one at a time, trying each on the gun locks. Adam and Jason busied themselves stacking other supplies near the exit; hunting knives, lanterns, freeze-dried rations, matches - everything that they could anticipate needing.
"Why are they doing that?" Tanya asked Jeremy as he looked around to find where the ammunition was stored.
"Night's going to be coming soon," Jeremy said. "When it does, we won't want to be in town.
"We need to get somewhere where we can see all of our surroundings, so we're not caught off guard the same way we were when we went looking for your mom. Best place to do that will be outside of town; keeps us away from areas where the population was concentrated before, so it's unlikely we'll even encounter any zombies. If we do, we'll have nice, clear shots at them, and plenty of room for an escape. Jackpot!" His exclamation marked his discovery of an unlocked back room where box upon box of ammunition were stacked. "Let's get this all out to the truck, and get out of here as soon as we can."
“Just like that?” Chris seemed surprised. “What about everyone else's families? What about other survivors?”
“What choice do we have? We tried finding Tanya's mom, and look what happened – we barely got out of there alive! Do you really think it's wise to be cruising around town right now on the off chance that someone else has actually managed to survive?”
“So we just give up on everyone?”
“No.” Tanya broke in to the conversation. “We aren't giving up on anybody.”
“But-” Jeremy spoke out.
“No buts,” she interrupted him. “We're not giving up on anybody, but we have to understand that there's only one way for us to help them, and that's for us to make sure that we stay alive.
“If anyone else is still alive – and as painful as it is to admit, the chances of that are pretty slim – then they're going to be doing the same thing. They'll be locked up and hidden away, or trying to find safe shelter. Running around blindly is just going to endanger both us and them.”
“My family is still out there,” Chris said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice, lending an air of humanity that Jeremy had never seen him exhibit before. “My Mom...my Dad...my little brother. I can't -”
“You can,” Jeremy said, grasping Chris by the shoulders and looking into his eyes. “And you will. There are two possibilities here, Chris: either they're already dead, or they're trying to survive. Think about your Mom – do you think she'd approve of you risking your life, heading into almost certain death? You know what she'd want you to do – she'd want you to survive. You have to survive, at any cost. We all do.”
“I really hate it when you're right,” Chris said. “But I can't deny it when you are. Let's get going.”
***
Twilight was looming as the group set up camp in the middle of a farmer's field nearly two kilometers outside of town. Jeremy considered it to be the best possible choice of locations - harvest time had already come and gone, so the field was bare, allowing easy visibility in all directions. Chris' truck was ready to roll out at a moment's notice, and the nearest road, although coated in gravel and not the most pleasant to drive on, was sufficient to carry them to safety if required. During their looting of Jack's hunting shop, they had come across a pair of night-vision goggles, which would allow them to sleep in shifts, with whoever was awake being the eyes and ears keeping them safe. Although the freeze-dried rations they'd been able to scavenge did not look delicious, they were certainly more attractive than hunting through the grocery stores, with the risk of death lurking around every corner. They sat around a small campfire, warming themselves against the fall chill as they discussed their future.
"So what do we do now?" Tanya asked the question they were all wondering about. Tears leaked from her eyes as she spoke. "Our families...they're gone, or at least hiding the same way we are. There's nowhere in town that's safe for us right now. We don't know where these things came from, what they're doing, or when they'll leave."
"It may not be nice to think about," Jeremy said ominously. "But I think we need to consider the most likely reality of this situation. These 'things', as you call them, are zombies. Undead. Animated corpses. Ghouls. What they're doing is what movies, books, and folk tales about them have foretold them doing for centuries - they're slaughtering the living and feasting upon their bodies. We've seen that. We've also seen that those they kill come back as even more zombies. Barring them just vanishing as quickly as they appeared, I think we can conclude that their numbers will grow at an exponential rate until the entire human race has been extinguished, at which point they will shamble mindlessly over all of the earth, undying until our sun goes nova billions of years from now and wipes this miserable chunk of rock into oblivion."
"You want us to just give up and die, then?" Chris spat. "Maybe they outnumber us, and maybe their numbers will grow and grow and grow, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to surrender and become one of them. Besides, you two have some kind of goddamn superpowers. That's got to count for something - maybe those that they don't kill are going to grow stronger and stronger and fight them off. Hell, maybe I’ll get superpowers of my own."
"God help us all if that happens. Anyway, I don't deny that some weird things have happened to us," Jeremy said, staring at Tanya. Her gaze was downcast into the fire. "But that's not going to change much. I'm not planning on laying down and letting those things gnaw on me, but let's be realistic - if they haven't already succeeded in wiping out most of the human race, then they will soon. It may be hours, or days, or weeks, but there will be six and a half billion of those things wandering around soon enough. Think about those numbers. Six and a half billion. I like the idea of killing as many as I can, and if we pick our battles, with these crazy superpowers, I may be good for reducing a couple thousand walking corpses to dust. Hell, maybe I could do a couple of tens of thousands...I somehow doubt that we'll be able to take all of them on. Our best-case scenario right now is to just fight for survival. If we’re lucky, we may be able to do it in style, but look back at this afternoon - they’ve been one step ahead of us the entire time.
"If - and this is a big if - there are more people that can do the sort of things that Tanya and I can do, then maybe there's a fighting chance. Maybe some of us will survive until our old age. Maybe. Doesn't change the fact that we're facing the end of civilization as we know it, though."
A silence fell over the group. Nobody said anything, and nobody moved. They all stared reflectively into the fire, watching the flames lick and dance at their firewood. Aside from the gentle crackling of the flames, there was no sound at all.
Chapter 4
Day 4 - 02:45 CST
Estevan, Saskatchewan, Canada
The quiet of the night was broken by the staccato crackling of gunfire in the distance. Adam, who had been assigned to be their lookout for that time of the night, was roused from sleep by the distant crackling. He leaped to his feet, gun at the ready, trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep. He shouted to rouse the others, hoping that none of them had been conscious to notice his inability to remain awake.
"Guys, wake, up," he said breathlessly, bending down to shake each one of them awake in turn.
The gunfire fell silent, but everyone begrudgingly shook off the veil of sleep and rose to
their feet.
"What's going on?" Jeremy sounded dazed and confused, as if he was having trouble remembering that they were in the middle of an apocalyptic nightmare rather than blissfully sleeping a lazy night away in the comfort of their own homes.
"I don't know," Adam said as he flipped on an electric lantern. The pale flicker of the fluorescent bulb seemed brilliant in the pitch black prairie night. "It came from somewhere in town. The way I see it, either there's at least one more survivor back there, or the zombies have learned how to use guns."
"A survivor isn't all that unreasonable a possibility," Jeremy said thoughtfully. He shrugged his shoulders. "We made it out alive - no reason to think we're the only ones. The only question is whether we want to risk going back there to save them."
As if to punctuate Jeremy's point, several more gunshots echoed through the darkness.
"If they're still shooting, then whoever it is must be under attack," Tanya said. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. "We should help them. There's safety in numbers."
"That's the same principle that the zombies work under," Chris said with a morbid giggle. "The more of them there are, the safer they are. Should we really risk our necks for someone who might be dead before we even get there? Hell, even if we get there in time and save them, it's one more person to haul around with us. One more mouth to feed - frankly, what food we've got isn't going to last long as it is."
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Jason's face flushed bright red as he spoke. He wasn't normally a confrontational boy, but circumstances had a way of changing people. "This is Estevan. These people - these are our friends, our family, our community. We can't just leave them out to dry. We have to stick together if we're going to have any chance at all of keeping ourselves alive."
"Be careful what you wish for," Jeremy said. "Because we've already seen that our friends and family are amongst those monsters, too. Live long enough and you may have to put a bullet through the head of your closest loved ones." He paused. "But...I don't disagree. As dangerous as it is, and as unknown as the situation we'll be walking into is, those sounds - " he gesticulated towards the sounds of gunfire, "are the sounds of someone who has survived thus far. Someone armed. Someone with the potential to be a very valuable ally in the hours and days ahead of us. We've got to help them."
"That's a little mercenary," Tanya said with a resigned sigh. "You're both right, though - we owe it to whoever that is to try to help them out, and to try to survive together."
"I'll be damned if I'm going to stick my neck out for something like this," Chris spat defensively. He jangled his truck keys in front of his face. "And since I'm the one with the truck, looks like you all have a long walk if you want to get there."
Jeremy smiled peacefully. His body was already energized with the constant harmonic pounding which seemed to foreshadow his ability to manifest a telekinetic limb. Sure enough, he outstretched his hand towards Chris, and a frigid tendril burst from the palm of his hand and effortlessly snatched the keys which Chris dangled mockingly. With the speed of a tape measure sliding back into its housing, the translucent tendril retracted and dropped the keys into Jeremy's hand in the blink of an eye. Tanya had to fight to stifle her laughter.
"Since we're the ones with the keys, you're going to have to either come with us, or be stuck in the middle of nowhere with the threat of the undead looming all around you." Jeremy's tone was acerbic.
"Safety in numbers, eh?" As quickly as it had surfaced, Chris' attitude vanished. "I suppose there's something to be said for helping out our neighbours."
"Glad you see it that way," Jeremy said. He tossed the keys back to Chris. "It's your truck. You may as well drive. I trust that I won't have to take over the steering wheel halfway there."
Chris nodded. "It'll be fine. I'll get us where we need to be. Just make sure you're all ready with your triggers. If we drive right into the middle of a gigantic undead cluster-fuck, I'd like to know that someone other than me has their eyes open."
Jeremy patted the pistols at his side and winked. Everyone clambered into their positions in the vehicle - Tanya took the passenger seat, batons held at the ready dangling between her knees. Adam and Jason sat on either side of the truck's cargo box, holding their firearms at the ready. Jason's pistol seemed tiny in comparison to Adam’s massive shotgun, but despite the difference in firepower and instead of being overwhelmed by their situation, the young boy seemed ready, almost eager, to face the undead again. Jeremy sat cross-legged on the roof of the truck's cab; thin silvery-white threads of force extruded from his arms and legs, securing him tightly against the surface.
The truck's engine roared to life, and its wheels spun frantically in the loose soil of the field as Chris slammed his foot on the gas pedal. As it finally gained traction, the vehicle surged forward onto the gravel road. Adam and Jeremy struggled to retain their seating as the vehicle lurched forward and fishtailed in a barely-controlled line. Jeremy didn't even budge - the force which held him down seemed stronger even than the truck itself.
The ride into the outskirts of town was short and uneventful; as they entered the town limits and passed their high school, all of the group were wary. Chris slowed the truck down to little more than a crawl as they all kept their eyes wide open for the source of the gunfire. The crackling and popping bursts had become less frequent, but could still be heard to the south. Satisfied that whatever creatures had been trapped in the school earlier in the day had not found their way outside, Chris accelerated down King Street, a long, smooth, flat straightaway lit in the bright yellow-orange glow of streetlights. A blazing fire could be seen at the end of the street, accompanied by the occasional white flash of muzzle flare. Adam and Jason held their weapons at the ready; even Chris reached for the pistol in the middle of the bench seating. The fire that blazed came from the hood of a large Jeep; flanking on either side of the vehicle were two men dressed in the green battle fatigues of the Army. Their assault rifles were at the ready, pointed at the truck as it approached. At least two dozen corpses of rotten desecrated bodies littered the ground at varying distances from the Jeep.
"Drop your weapons," the closer of the two soldiers yelled. "Step out of the vehicle."
The second soldier did not budge from his position, holding his rifle at the ready on the other side of the Jeep, scanning all around for any sign of movement. The five youngsters did as they were instructed, reluctantly setting down their weapons and stepping out of the truck. Jeremy set two of his pistols down on the roof of the truck and jumped down carefully, trying not to let his t-shirt slip up high enough to reveal the other four pistols holstered beneath. All five of them held their hands up as the soldier approached them. The flickering flames from the Jeep danced and leaped, revealing a man in his mid-40s who had obviously not shaved for days. His eyes were narrow slits as he approached; the glint in his eye did nothing to reassure anyone of his intentions. He stopped in front of Chris, standing so close that they were nearly touching. He stared into Chris' eyes as if he was a prize fighter sizing up his opponent. He moved from Chris to Jeremy, then to Adam, then Jason, and finally stopped in front of Tanya. He licked his lips lasciviously.
"Look at what we've got here," he said with a throaty laugh. "Just when I was starting to think I'd never see a live piece of ass again." He reached up and brushed aside a lock of Tanya's hair with one greasy finger. She recoiled in disgust, and the soldier snarled and took a step backward. He levelled his assault rifle at Tanya's head. When he spoke, the agitation in his voice brought out a latent maritime accent. "Now you listen here, Missy. I don't know if you've been paying attention lately, but this place is going to hell in a hand-basket, and ye don't want to be insultin' the ones that are keepin' ye alive. I don't think ye need me to be repeatin' myself when I say that you're going to keep myself and Private Jameson happy," he inclined his head towards the other soldier and simultaneously grabbed his crotch to emphasize just what sort of happiness he was looking for. "If you cooperat
e, you and your friends might even live long enough to see some sort of order restored to this hellhole. Now be a good lass and take off those clothes."
Whether it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins, or whether he'd simply forgotten that Tanya was more than capable of defending herself against unwanted advances, Jason leaped forward to play the part of the white knight defending a maiden's virtue. He grabbed at the soldier's rifle, but the soldier moved far too quickly for him. A combat boot met Jason's midsection, knocking the small teen flat on his back. Shock and horror couldn't even register with any of the other captives before the soldier raised his rifle to the ready, and let loose a small burst at Jason. The rounds struck their target, tearing open a massive hole in the side of Jason's head; his lifeless body dropped to the ground. Jeremy dropped to one knee beside his friend, grasping at the lifeless body in shock. Time seemed to slow down, and he heard the soldier's echoing laughter in between heavy, pounding pulses of pressure that thudded furiously against his skull.
"Didn't I warn you? Did the little son of a bitch think he was actually going to do something?" The second soldier joined the first in a hyena-like howl of laughter, the sort of laughter one normally expects from madmen. Time stopped for Jeremy. He rose to his feet and screamed furiously. This time it was the soldier caught unaware; he tried to raise his rifle at Jeremy, but his movements seemed impossibly slow. The force of Jeremy's scream erupted into a shock wave that rolled outwards in all directions; at the epicenter, he was unmoved, but the force of the shock wave knocked everyone nearby to the ground. Two silvery appendages of pure mental force erupted from Jeremy's hands and lashed forth to grasp the pair of soldiers. Each appendage moved swiftly, and with terrific force lifted its soldier into the air, then smashed him repeatedly against the ground. Even through the temporary damage that the shock wave had dealt to their ears, the group could hear the telltale cracking and snapping of bones being crushed into submission. Droplets of blood danced through the dank air, carpeting them with crimson stains that echoed the carnage that was being wrought. Splinters of bone severed skin, shearing outward and shredding the bodies in a horrific hail held helplessly suspended by his telekinetic field.
The Dead Rise Page 6