Upon stepping off the porch, the sounds of sporadic gunfire continued. I looked at my lawn and had the thought of what fertility value the corpses we had littered around would have on its growth next spring. Morbidly I thought that if the undead decomposed and infected the grass, maybe my lawn would return as an immortal plush field of green. I shuddered to think of how I was going to cut the lawn, while trying to keep an eye out for attacks from the zombies next summer. It’s funny where your mind takes you when your world is turned upside down.
Tommy and I agreed that something needed to be done with the bodies that were strewn about, but we were focused on getting our mission accomplished with ample daylight. We made our way to Tommy’s without any attacks or zombies in sight, but kept vigilant in the event that we were spotted by unseeing eyes. Tommy started up his truck, which was in the driveway, but opened the garage before we ventured out.
As the garage door began to rise, I gazed in amazement of what was before me. Tommy had generators and enough fuel to sustain them for an ungodly amount of time, given the amount of gas canisters I was looking at. Also in the garage was ample hunting gear – compound bows, recurve bows, crossbows and deer blinds. Looking at the portable deer blinds, I envisioned us using them like in the cartoons to hide our movements from the zombies. We would hide in the blind and lift it up as we walked, so that we would look like a moving plant and not a roving lunch platter. That may have worked in the cartoons, but it may not be realistic given the amount of blind spots and the possibility of being trapped in one during an attack. It was still a comical visual just the same.
Tommy grabbed a large duffle bag by the entry door into the home and carried it over to the workbench. The bag had an inscription on it in large font that simply stated “THE BOX”. Surprisingly there were guns in there (I know, right? Tommy had more guns?). Tommy grabbed a semi-auto ACR with ACOG scope and a tactical vest. He grabbed spare ammo clips from the bag and loaded them into the carrier pouches on his vest. He pulled out a 9mm Sig Sauer, some extra spare ammo magazines, and secured them in the empty pouches on his vest as well.
“Wanna hit the box?” Tommy asked.
“No thanks – I’m good,” I replied.
We both chucked like 13 year olds (actually more like Beavis and Butthead) that Tommy said “hit the box” and closed the garage door behind us. We loaded up into the truck and Tommy could tell that I had a question.
“Problem?” he asked.
“No, it’s just, well – the vest. I probably should have brought mine,” I said feeling foolish that I had left my tactical vest behind.
“I thought you just didn’t want to wear it, but the extra protection we’ll get from those back biters and crazies seems to make it a no-brainer, right?” he replied, schooling me.
“Point made and suggestion taken, but we don’t need to swing back to the house. I’ll be fine.”
“Boot, go hit the box,” Tommy motioned as he opened the garage again, “there’s an extra one in there that you can use. Get some extra ammo too, I think we’re gonna need it.”
Chapter 14
Leaving the confines of the subdivision was eerily quiet. There was still the sound of distant gunfire, but we appeared to be the only ones driving on the back roads. Most homes had the shades pulled and it appeared that they had gotten the unspoken memo. Once we pulled out onto the main drag, we found other people who had ventured out. So did the undead and they were roaming all over the place. Like a dog chasing a car, the zombies would run after each one as it went by – only to be run down or change course towards the next vehicle that they became fixated on.
It would be almost comical if it wasn’t so life threatening. The zombies were scattering about trying to catch their fast moving prey, reminiscent of kindergartners chasing high school seniors in a game of freeze tag. The worst part was that this meant the painted road dividers and traffic signals now held absolutely no authority. With the volume of undead on the road, the few motorists that had ventured out were swerving all over the road in order to avoid hitting them – most of the time unsuccessfully. The ones that were hit seemed to continue on without missing a beat. What did it matter to have a shattered pelvis or femur when you were already dead? The amount of crawling zombies seemed to increase the as we made our way to the drug store. Tommy was trying his best to run over the heads of the crawlers when they presented themselves, while evading panicked drivers as we made our way. The skulls of the dead popped from underneath the chassis of the truck with equal jarring force of hitting a speed bump at 45mph. The only difference was these bumps were a bit more forgiving and tended to smooth out under the weight of the truck.
That was one thing that was became immediately obvious. The skulls of the undead appeared to have a weakened characteristic. It wasn’t exactly that they were soft, it was more like brittle. This was important due to the fact that it wouldn’t take much force to penetrate to the brain tissue and disable them. A solid baseball bat or .22 rounds would be just as effective as a shotgun blast. Although I was more inclined to keep my distance, preferring shooting them as over the close-quarters that blunt trauma would require.
As we navigated through the undead minefield I noticed a plume of smoke on the horizon. Tommy indicated that he saw it too, and where that plume was coming from was where we were heading. As we got closer it was evident that the smoke was coming from the lot of the supermarket. Tommy got a little distracted by the sight and nearly collided head on with another vehicle travelling the opposite way that had swung into our lane to avoid some zombies running at it from the side of the road.
“Fuck!” Tommy yelled as he maneuvered his truck out of the way, narrowly avoiding the oncoming threat. “Stay in your lane dipshit!” he yelled as they passed.
“That was close,” was all I could muster to Tommy as my asshole slammed shut and pulled some leather from Tommy’s truck seat into it.
“Where’s a fucking cop when you need one?” Tommy chuckled.
As we approached the supermarket it literally looked like hell on earth. The smoke we had seen was coming from a vehicle now on fire that had struck a utility pole at the entrance, apparently in an attempt to avoid the roving undead. The vehicle was still occupied by an older heavy set gentleman. He was still wearing his seatbelt, with his airbag deployed. The undead were trying desperately to devour him while he was still warm, but were the flames were creating a natural barrier around him and keeping them at bay. Surely the poor soul was dead when he hit the pole - because if he hadn’t died then, the flames were making short work of finishing him off.
The zombies would rush the man, and begin to capture a bite of flesh only to catch fire from the engulfing flames. They would back off and stumble into their companions competing for the meal, spreading the fire from one to another like the passing of the Olympic torch. More and more zombies kept running into the flames in a failed attempt to feast, as they were met with the same fate. It looked like a decadent rave party of people on fire, with torched zombies all fighting for room to feast while being devoured in flames. Tommy pointed and laughed calling it a “zombie-q”. I didn’t share his twisted humor in witnessing this horror.
In the rest of the parking lot a similar scene was playing out. There was absolute chaos as people were looting and running about with zombies chasing close behind. People were gathering and carrying out everything they could, only to be met by a wall of undead waiting for them to return outside. No one was making if very far, and I wondered what could hold such value that it couldn’t be discarded in order to run faster and get away. All too easily the zombies would swarm the downed victim and begin feasting with a horrific frenzy. Tissue and bones were torn and stripped from warm bodies in the madness that ensued. Tommy continued to drive by as we witnesses to the horror unfolding.
Most of the zombies were attracted to the commotion of the looters, so very little of the roaming undead were chasing after the truck as we drove past. We agreed the next stop would
be the drug store. I feared the worst after what was happening here, but held out hope as the location was a bit more rural than this and not as inviting. Crushing thoughts of doom consumed me as I came to the realization that there may not be anything left to salvage – anywhere. The false sense of security that our remote subdivision had given me was now dissolved. The world was fading fast, and was quickly apparent that were looking to use a band-aid to treat a decapitation.
Along the drive to the drugstore the number of cars on the road, and the undead that were chasing them, began to decrease. It took us almost twenty minutes to make our way to the small rural outlet it was located in and all of the runners chasing us had veered off for easier prey. As Tommy pulled up to the driveway entrance, it was like a ghost town compared to the supermarket. The lack of anyone or anything being visible gave a misguided sense of safety to the surrounding area. The front doors appeared secure and the lights were still on inside, but there weren’t any vehicles in the parking lot. We knew we couldn’t have been the only ones who chose this option and Tommy drove around the entire store looking for signs of trouble. We seemed to have found it as we pulled up to the pharmacy drive-thru window; there was a mountain bike propped up against the wall.
We checked (and double checked) our surroundings and got out of the truck to investigate. There was no telling how long the bike had been there, but the drive-thru window revealed where the owner may have gone. The thick security plexiglass encompassing the drive-thru window had been breached in a most ingenious fashion. The glass is considered, for the most part, unbreakable. Whoever entered the store had the right idea to get past this defense. They had used an ignited road flare to melt away an opening in the plexiglass and gain entry. While the security window may have offered protection from common window smashing burglars and a shotgun blast, it was no match for the intense heat given off by the flare.
Tommy and I readied our weapons and made our way inside, crawling through the small melted entryway and entering the pharmacy department. Tommy reached out to begin collecting medical supplies, when I stopped him and whispered that we needed to clear the building of any threats first. We began with the pharmacy area itself, which appeared to have been rummaged through, and eventually made our way onto the general merchandise isles. As we moved aisle by aisle, there was nothing moving about and the shelves appeared adequately stocked. Outside of a few items we had seen moved about in the pharmacy, there was no evidence of widespread looting or panic to be found. We came upon an isle with some ‘back to school’ supplies and each of us grabbed a backpack to gather provisions.
As we finished clearing the store and rounded the isle containing every possible junk food on the market, I saw a young man slumped down on the floor with an industrial sized bottle of pills spilled at his side. There were also several empty cans of soda strewn about. As Tommy and I cautiously approached, it was clear that he had done himself in.
“Suicide by pills,” Tommy said.
“He was probably a junkie who needed a fix. Those are opiates he was popping - and look at the track marks on his arms,” I said pointing out the man’s physical condition. I imagined it wouldn’t have been too hard to mistake this guy for the undead while he was alive given his physical appearance. He was a younger man guessing by the clothing he was wearing, but his features were aged beyond his years. His matted and greasy hair seemed to indicate that it had been some time since it had been washed, and he reeked of other odors than simply being deceased and decomposing. I checked his pulse and verified that he was, in fact, dead. Whether it was an accidental overdose or a suicide as Tommy suggested, at least he was done dealing with this new hell on earth.
Tommy collected up the jar of painkillers and threw them into his backpack. I didn’t question the action and we finished clearing the rest of the store. We went aisle to aisle, giving priority to gathering as much non-perishable food as possible. I had a feeling that our meals would consist of beef jerky for breakfast and canned goods for lunch and dinner for quite some time. We loaded up on all of the bottled water and beverages we could get into the bed of the truck, opting to pillage the pallets of stock in the back storage area instead of trying to load individual shelf items. We locked our long guns in the truck and kept our handguns on us, as the rifles were too cumbersome to lug around while gathering up the goods. I wish we would have brought Kate and Claire with us, as the work would have moved much quicker with the extra bodies to move the merchandise.
Tommy was just closing the tailgate of the truck when the sudden sound of a racking shotgun from behind us demanded our undivided attention.
Chapter 15 – Kate and Claire
Kate was glad that her morning sickness had subsided somewhat and was more manageable. She spent the majority of the morning keeping Claire occupied so that she wouldn’t think about her grandfather and the close brush she had with the undead, or so she thought. She had taken a rest on the couch and had gotten up to find her as she was no longer on the easy chair reading. Kate found Claire in the kitchen, cleaning off the zombie residue from her arrow tips in the sink.
“You know, you could have used the laundry tub downstairs instead of my kitchen sink for that,” Kate said.
“I’m sorry,” Claire replied, “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to clean them up and get some target practice in.”
“We can set something up for you downstairs if you’d like, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’d much rather shoot outside if it’s all the same to you.”
“I don’t really think that going outside is a good idea given the circumstances,” Kate said sternly, “we really need to stay indoors until Griff and Tommy get back.”
“I understand, but the fence was protecting us just fine when you were practicing the shotgun, and the basement won’t give me enough distance to place a soft target for practice. If I stay on the deck, I should be out of sight enough to get a few draws in and launch a few arrows at the compost pile I saw back there.”
“The zombies may not have been able to get past the fence, but that didn’t stop them from seeing us and gathering up around the house, Claire. I really don’t want Griff and Tommy to come back to a welcoming party of the undead gathered around the house. Those things seemed to follow each other and I think it’s best that we keep a low profile inside.”
“The zombies only came because they followed the one that had seen me from the window,” Claire argued, “you guys killed all of them and we haven’t seen any more wandering about, right?”
Kate was impressed by the bravery of this young girl given all that she had recently been witness to and had lost. Kate wasn’t so sure it was the best idea, but the yearning brown eyes were cutting her down her defenses. Kate was instinctively protective of the girl, but she also wanted to maintain some sense of normalcy for Claire. Griff had coached her on the use of the shotgun and Kate felt that she could go out with Claire and provide protection as needed. Griff had his cell phone on him, so if there was a group of zombies that collected around the house she could call ahead and let them know. Kate knew this was a bad idea and nothing good could come of it, but she just didn’t have the will to deny Claire a simple and innocent break from the madness.
“Okay, okay…” replied Kate, “let’s take a look to see if there are any zombies out and about. If we see so much as one zombie within eye sight of the backyard then practice in the basement is our only option, understand?”
“Oh thank you!” Claire shrieked and hugged Kate around her waist. Kate felt the embrace as a reward and bond of their new friendship, but deep inside couldn’t help feeling that she just got played.
Kate and Claire went to every window on the first and second floor, carefully inspecting the surroundings without gaining the attention of the roaming undead. There were some zombies down the street wandering about, but there were no immediate threats that would be able to see them from the backyard. Kate was confident that given the silent nature of the bow Cla
ire was using, sound wasn’t going to alert them either.
Claire gathered up her bow and quiver, filling it with the newly cleaned arrows. Kate grabbed the shotgun and loaded it with slugs this time, but brought buckshot rounds as a backup. She slowly opened to glass door wall to the deck and did a quick recon of the area. Kate made her way out to the compost pile, while Claire watched in anticipation from the entryway. Kate checked in all directions, making certain that Claire would have the freedom to both practice and retrieve her arrows from her target. Kate returned to the deck and Claire exited the home, sliding the door carefully behind her.
“Okay, just a few minutes of practice and then back inside. Griff and Tommy should be back soon and I don’t want them catching us out here, got it?”
“Got it, and thank you,” Claire replied shyly as they smiled at one another.
As Claire began to draw and release her arrows, her shots were grouped so tightly Kate thought that she might actually split one of them like something out of Robin Hood. Kate was so mesmerized by Claire’s archery skills that she didn’t notice the pair of yellow glowing eyes focused on her from the window next door. The glowing eyes were attached to a skull that continued to smash against the window over and over again as it peered at the prey, desperately trying to get out so that it may feed on the warm flesh that was within sight. Frothy saliva and mucous dripped from the window as teeth gnashed away at the glass in a manic frenzy.
Claire had exhausted her supply of arrows and Kate grabbed her by the arm as she moved forward to retrieve them.
“Wait, one more check to make sure it’s safe,” Kate said.
With a quick glance of their surroundings, Kate moved to the side of the house and peered around the corner. Kate did the same with the opposite side, and it appeared that they would be in the clear to move about the yard without being seen. What Kate didn’t take into consideration was her deceased neighbor Greg’s home next door, as she was completely oblivious to window straining to contain the hell hound within.
Zombie Reign (Book 1): Death in Detroit Page 6