Jack Zombie (Book 4): Dead Coast

by Flint Maxwell

  I stand up, see the wave coming from the town — the wave of shambling zombies.

  “Ab,” I say. She doesn’t look up. “Abby, c’mon, we gotta go.”

  “I don’t wanna,” she answers so quiet I barely hear her.

  “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “You won’t be. I’ll be here with Herb,” she says.

  “Herb can’t stay here, either. Help me drag him into the water.”

  She looks up with hurt in her eyes. Her mouth is slightly open. She can’t believe me. I don’t want to put him in the water. I don’t, but what choice do we have? Leave him here for the zombies to devour? Hell no.

  Abby looks down the coast where the upside down boat is. She points. “Can’t we p-put him under that and come back for him?”

  I take a deep breath and exhale. I shake my head. “They’ll find him, Abby. They always do. A boat isn’t much protection from them.”

  She looks out at the water, arms wrapped around her sandy jeans. Her skin is beet-red. So is mine.

  “Ab,” I say, soothingly. I don’t feel anything close to soothed. My heart — what’s left of it — beats madly. I want to collapse in the sand and just lay there.

  But I can’t give up now. Darlene is still alive. I know she is. I have to get to her.

  Central’s headquarters lie around the mountain. I can see the corners of the gray building built into the landscape from where I stand. The breeze ruffles my wet shirt, blows my sweaty hair off of my forehead.

  Abby doesn’t look like she’s going to move, and every second we waste, the closer our world gets to ending — either from the zombies or from the bombs.

  “He loved this world,” I say. I don’t look at Herb. I don’t know if I can, actually. “He loved this world so much, Abby. He might be gone, but he wouldn’t want the world to die with him. We can’t let it die, Ab.” I walk over to her and kneel.

  “What’s the point?” she says. She still won’t look at me. I move into her field of vision and though her eyes are on me, she’s not seeing. She’s somewhere else. Somewhere far away. “What’s the point of going on? Who cares if we succeed? It never ends. Really, it doesn’t. We keep going and another tragedy comes around the corner and punches us in the guts.” She puts her head in her hand, sputters. “I mean, Herb? Why Herb?”

  I stick out my hand and gently brush her hair. “Abby, don’t talk like that,” I say. “We keep going because we have to. Before the world went to shit — and I’m of the opinion that the world has always been shit to begin with — we didn’t say ‘Screw it, I’m gonna die anyway so I might as well kill myself,’ did we?”

  Abby looks up at me and now she’s really seeing me. Her eyes are red from crying. Tears run down her face. She shakes her head.

  “Damn right we didn’t. It’s like not brushing your teeth because you’re just gonna end up eating again, it’s like not wiping your — ”

  She puts her hand up, nodding. “Okay, okay, I get it,” she says.

  “You do?” I’m honestly surprised.

  She nods again. “It’s just…hard.”

  “Life was always hard. The zombies just make it harder. We can still keep going, Ab. If we get used to life, then I think we’re doing it wrong. We can save this place, and if not, we can die trying. I’m not going to lay down and let it happen. You aren’t, either. When you lost your hand, did you quit? When I got stabbed in the thigh and nearly eaten by cannibals, did I quit? Did you quit when Butch and Spike beat you up, held you captive?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes lighting up. “No, I didn’t.”

  “And you’re not going to give up now. Not if I’m still around. Darlene needs us.”

  She smiles and looks to Herb and the smile vanishes. She looks serious now, almost scowling. “You did a good thing, Jack.”

  I’m taken aback by this. A good thing? Killing one of my closest friends, one of my family members? No. I’m terrible, but I did what I had to do.

  “He was suffering and it was only getting worse. Remember how Sheriff Doaks was in Woodhaven?” Her eyes are hazy with the memory, distant again.

  I nod. Man, that feels like a life-time ago.

  “Remember how he suffered?” she says.

  “He suffered because I couldn’t end his suffering for him. He asked me to, you know? After we left him in that rehab room. He practically begged me, and I couldn’t do it. Pat Huber did it in the end with a fifty pound dumbbell.” I shudder, thinking about how far I’ve come. I couldn’t even put a cop I barely remembered from my childhood in that shitty town out of his misery. But Herb gets bit and I have no problem blowing his brains out without warning. I shake my head and exhale again. I am a piece of shit. I’ve changed for the worst.

  Abby reaches out to me with her good hand. “Don’t think like that,” she says. “You did him a favor. You did me a favor. I couldn’t watch him suffer, but I couldn’t pull the trigger, either.”

  I turn away as more tears flow from my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Herbie,” I say. “I really am. I hope you find peace, I hope you find your Auntie and your cousins, and I hope the music never stops.”

  “He’s better now,” Abby says.

  “I know, I know,” is all I can say.

  57

  She eventually does get up to help me move Herb. He weighs so much, the two of us can hardly do it. When the water gets up to my waist, Abby still standing on the wet sand, the tide does the rest of the work and takes him out and away from us. I climb out of the water and put my arm around Abby.

  We watch him sink together for what seems like a long, long time.

  It’s only when the zombies’ growls and groans and rattles reach us do we move. Their eyes bob in the growing darkness. The sun has gone down behind the mountains, lighting their peaks with fire.

  I have my next move planned in advance.

  I walk over to the flipped row boat. There is one oar beneath it. As I flip it, a small creature scurries away in the darkness and disappears into the sand dunes. Abby comes over to help me.

  We don’t talk and the zombies’ noises fill our ears. I can’t take it anymore.

  Sink or swim, Norm says in my head.

  “How ‘bout I float?” I say under my breath as I’m getting into the boat.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I say.

  The wood is not the sturdiest, but it’ll last long enough for us to get around the mountains, I think.

  I hope.

  It’s going to have to.

  Abby gets in after me, I reach out and help guide her. The zombies hit the beach. Their death-weakened legs are no match for the sinking sand. Some of them trip and fall, tumble down the slope. Some of them trample the others and fall that way. Only a handful remain upright and as upright as their flaccid spines and leathery flesh will let them be. Of the handful, only a few reach the water. They keep going until their legs, acting on pure animalistic instinct, don’t work anymore and gravity is distorted. I see their eyes sink to the bottom of the now-black water like dropped flashlights.

  The boat pulls away with the help of the one oar, the eyes grow more distant. I wish I could say we are getting safer, but I can’t. We don’t know what lies on the other side of the mountains. I have a feeling it’s nothing good. I paddle forward like a madman until the glowing fires of their eyes are nothing but dim embers.

  58

  The building is devoid of all light. The sun has gone down almost completely. Over the roar of the lake’s waves and the breeze in my ears, I hear the faint growls of the zombies from the shore, carried on the wind.

  But I can see the coast, where the building’s base is.

  I’m thinking how we’re so slick, how they won’t even see us coming because Central is out there somewhere, chasing Norm in that Jeep. Besides, who comes by way of a rowboat to save the world? Not Superman. Not Batman. Not anybody besides Jack Jupiter and Abby Cage.

  “What’s the plan?” Abby asks
me.

  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Typical,” she says. I notice her voice is slowly coming back to its normal pitch. I wish I could say it’s as simple as us leaving all our emotional baggage on the other side of the lake, but it isn’t. Herb is still dead. Gone. Lost forever. And we both know that.

  I talk again because I don’t want there to be anymore silence, plus it makes the rowing easier. “We kill everyone in sight and we get Darlene back.”

  “Obviously,” Abby says.

  “Then we kill Klein.”

  “Again, obviously,” she says.

  “Well,” I say, “can you do better?”

  “No,” she says. “It’s not a bad plan…I guess.”

  We hit the shore. I get out and pull Abby and the boat the rest of the way, making sure the gun doesn’t get wet. I’ve since checked the rounds and there’s five shots left. All I need is one for Klein. My chest tightens then as I start to realize the chances of me making it out of here alive are slim. Zombies are one thing, but humans…they’re the real monsters. Doesn’t matter. I have to try.

  I wish I could see Darlene now. I didn’t even get to kiss her before she was ripped away from me. Believe me when I say I’m going to kiss her hard when I save her.

  “I think — ” Abby starts to say.

  A light floods the lake, so strong, I let go of the prow and shield my face. No. I force myself to open my eyes and move my hand. It takes too long for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I see the outlines of six people.

  Five bullets, I’m thinking. Not enough.

  The sounds of rifles cocking, rushed footsteps, then a voice. Doc Klein’s voice. “It’s too late, Jack. The damage is done, the plans are in motion. There’s no derailing this train now.”

  I raise my gun at him, but two men wearing the same type of suits as the men back at the military base step in front of him, snarls on their faces. They mean business.

  I don’t budge. Abby gets out of the boat. I hear the splashing of the water as she makes her way to my side. Her hands are up. She has no weapon. They must see this. I’m glad she’s by my side, I don’t want to die alone.

  “However, I do admire your tenacity,” Klein says. “It’s admirable.”

  “Where’s Darlene?” I say.

  “She’s safe, Jack. Don’t worry.” I’ll believe that when I see it and I’m going to see it. I promise. “I haven’t forgot how you saved me, Jack,” he says. “I’m grateful. I only took Darlene because you were not in your right mind. She’s okay, I promise. She’s right there in that mountain, unharmed.”

  “I shouldn’t have saved you,” I say.

  Klein grins “But you did, Jack. Now let me save you.”

  59

  “Fuck you,” I say.

  Klein’s stupid smile evaporates. The men holding their weapons at us, wearing their slick-black suits which seem to shimmer in the moonlight, drop their jaws.

  And fuck this. I’m sick of being the nice guy. I’m sick of talking.

  So I act because I’m Jack Fucking Jupiter, dropping to my knees, pulling Abby down with me as my hand closes tighter around the cold steel of the pistol.

  Yeah, go out with a bang.

  Maybe I’m stupid. Maybe I’m a genius. By the sounds of Abby’s shriek of surprise and my own heartbeat in my ear, I’m probably the former.

  But sue me. I came here for one reason and the reason wasn’t to be given mercy by Doctor Klein. It wasn’t to fail, either. It was to save Darlene by any means necessary.

  So the gun’s in my hand, and like I’ve said before, when the gun’s in my hand, I get this immense feeling of power.

  It’s funny how life happens sometimes. And I intend for life to keep on happening.

  I have five shots. I’m in the prone position. The air has gotten considerably cooler with the disappearance of the sun, but the bright lights shining down on us from the mountains are almost just as hot and probably three times as brighter. So I’m sweating and my palms are greasy. My clothes are wet, too. There’s still drops of Herb’s blood on my sleeves. Zombie guts.

  I aim for the men in front of Klein first.

  In Eden, I was fast when pulling on Butch Hazard, but now I’ve grown even faster. The trigger squeezes two times. I hit both men in the throat. The war cry one of them lets out is choked out by my bullet and drowned with blood.

  These first shots scramble the rest of the agents. My heart beats a mile a minute. If it were me who took a slug to the neck, I think the amount of blood pumping from the wound would be enough to fill the lake.

  It’s only natural for them to break formation. They probably haven’t had anyone stand up to them for a long time. Zombies don’t count. I’m talking about people who are not rotten enough up top to work a firearm. Two break away to the left and they run almost on top of each other. That’s where my next bullet goes. And I don’t aim for their backs because the slug would lodge in the first one’s expensive suit and I wouldn’t do what I intend to do. No, I aim for their heads.

  Two birds, one stone.

  I miss.

  And I knew I probably would because I’m in the prone position. The sand spills down my shirt. But it’s okay that I’ve missed because I still hit them and where I hit them is probably for the better. It’s much easier for a bullet to travel through the soft flesh of someone’s neck than it is their head, apparently.

  The first agent doesn’t even get to scream, but the second one does. I think the bullet gets him in the shoulder. Not a kill shot, but an incapacitate shot. Four down, one to go, and then Klein. Two shots left.

  But Klein has taken off, disappearing into the shadows beneath the mountain complex.

  Luckily, I have Abby with me and luckily she’s battle tested. Hell, I would’ve even taken her by my side the way she was half a year ago in Woodhaven. She’s always been tough. But now she’s even tougher despite being minus a hand. She’s smart, too.

  Smarter than me. She makes a run for the last man. He has turned around and has his gun raised at me. And I scramble up from my prone position.

  And I’m quick, but I’m not quick enough to get both of Klein and this last agent.

  Abby screams and the agent’s eyes go wide. He aims at her and fires. Time freezes then because I think Abby is going to be turned into Swiss Cheese.

  She isn’t. The man doesn’t even get another shot off before she pounces on him. She’s like a linebacker sacking the quarterback, and she hits him hard. I hear a crunch before the plop of their bodies hitting the sand, and the crunch probably comes from this guy’s ribs or his teeth crushing together.

  I aim and fire at Klein. He won’t even get to see me kill him.

  I don’t care too much.

  Miss. The bullet whines off the rock surface.

  Damn it.

  I sprint after him.

  The agent shouts behind me at Abby: “You fucking bitch, I’ll fucking kill you!”

  Then a gunshot and Abby saying, “Fucking bitch that.”

  Not long after this I hear Abby racing after me, but I’m too focused on Klein.

  I’m running too fast. I don’t think I can hit him while I’m running and I have just one bullet left.

  Klein reaches a door that looks exactly like the rock facade of the mountains and he pushes a button which glows red at his touch. The rock rises and more light spills out from the inside of the building.

  Klein disappears into the shadows and the door starts closing.

  “The door!” Abby shouts from behind me.

  I stop, I take the shot. But not at Klein because he’s gone.

  I hit the button. Bullseye.

  The door rises.

  The light, which was disappearing like an eyelid slowly closing, increases.

  Abby screams, “You got it.”

  And I take off running again.

  60

  The door hasn’t fully opened. There’s just enough room left for us to go through at a cr
ouch, which I don’t like because it puts us at a disadvantage.

  So what I do might be the stupidest thing I’ve done in a long while, and I’ve done some pretty stupid things.

  I sprint at full speed. The sand up here is densely packed. It’s almost like dirt and there’s no light beating down on us anymore, it’s out at the lake, focused on five dead bodies and a beached row boat. So I can’t see that well. The only guide I have is the light spilling out from the opening.

  I’m not Indiana Jones. I’m not James Bond. I don’t have many slick moves in my bag of tricks. I’m not graceful. I’m more of a bull in a China shop type of guy.

  But I have to do this because I have to get Darlene.

  “Jack!” Abby shouts. Her face, which I see out of the corner of my eye, is a blur, so is the dark carbine she holds in her one good hand.

  I’m thinking rockstar. I’m thinking power slide.

  I’m thinking, Pain.

  Then I do it. I drop at the last possible second to prevent my head from smacking into the rock door at upwards of ten miles per hour and I slide under the small gap.

  And boy, is there a lot of pain. My ass feels like it’s on fire. Rough, packed sand is nothing like a musical stage at all.

  But it works. I go sliding into the building. Yeah, that’s great and all, but what isn’t is the momentum I’ve built up, which is only slightly slowed down by my ass running along the ground. I don’t hit the door. I hit the wall and I hit the wall hard.

  I’m only down for about a second before I spring back up into a crouch with my weapon raised. There’s no one.

  The corridor in front of me is empty. The walls are like the inside of a cave. It makes sense, I guess, since we are inside of a mountain. I smell wetness. Old earth. Worms. Dirt. It makes me think of my childhood and playing outside all day in the summer before my crippling social anxiety and love of all things nerdy kept me indoors for much of my teenage years.

  Outside of the building, I hear Abby’s footfalls and her breathing.

  “Jack!” she shouts. “Jack, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answer.