Jack snatched a 12-gauge shell from the box on the floor, loaded the shotgun, and worked the slide. Not wanting to take the chance of hitting his family with buckshot, he rushed forward and slammed the shotgun stock against the back of the zombie’s head. The move managed to get the thing’s attention. The undead monstrosity turned, showing a rotting face and a bloated black tongue hanging from a bloody mouth. An overwhelming putrid stench permeated the air. Jack tried to bring up the shotgun and shoot, but the undead horror blocked his arm. With an unearthly wail, he slammed Jack’s back against the stove. The thing’s gruesome mouth opened wide, but Jack twisted the shotgun around between them and stuck the barrel underneath the horror’s chin.
“Screw this,” he said and pulled the trigger. The deafening blast disintegrated the zombie’s head and splattered chunks of meat and bone against the RV’s ceiling. The man’s faceless body fell heavily to the floor.
Jack rested against the stove to catch his breath. Outside the RV, the sounds of fighting continued.
“You okay?” he asked Kate. “The kids safe?”
She blew a strand of brown hair out of her face. “Thanks to you.”
“You were holding your own with that frying pan,” Jack said and reloaded the Mossberg.
“You always said I knew my way around a kitchen.”
“That I did.” He cocked the shotgun.
“You’re not staying here with us?”
“I can’t. They still need my help outside.” Jack headed for the exit and grabbed the body of the now-faceless man by the straps of his overalls. “Lock the doors behind me.”
He rolled the body out of the Winnebago, where it landed with a heavy thump. Ten feet away, Telia yanked her machete from the head of another corpse lying on the ground. Fallen zombies were spread out around her, some with their heads spilt open, others decapitated.
“Everyone safe?” she said.
“Yeah.” He spotted another zombie shambling out of the high weeds of the junkyard behind her. He snapped up the shotgun and fired a blast into the thing’s face.
“Good shot,” Telia said, wiping her machete on the clothes of the body at her feet. “I think their numbers are finally thinning out.”
“Let’s hope so.” Jack ejected the spent shell. “Where did they all come from? This was supposed to be a ghost town.”
“I don’t know.”
Doug joined them and smiled. “The spare is on, yo. We can get the hell out of here.” He looked around. “Where’s Granddad?”
“The last I knew he was up on the roof,” Jack said and called out Max’s name.
“Yep,” he answered from the rear ladder of the Winnebago, where he climbed down with the sniper rifle. “I’m over here.”
“Tire’s fixed,” Jack said. “We’re ready to roll again.”
“Good. I have to reload anyway.”
Jack was about to say something more but stopped cold. A zombie suddenly rose up behind Max in the garish glow of the RV’s red taillights.
“Behind you!” Jack shouted.
The warning came too late. Before Max could react, it lunged forward and chewed into his neck like a starving rat gnawing at a piece of meat. In seconds, the thing had ripped out a large chunk of his bloody flesh.
“Son of a bitch!” Max whipped out the .45 automatic on his hip and shot the zombie between the eyes. “The ugly shit bit me for good,” he said, holding his hand against his bleeding neck. He staggered a couple of steps before collapsing into the tall weeds of the roadside.
“Granddad!” Doug sprinted to his side, with Jack and Telia close behind.
Max lay sprawled out in the weeds as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from the wound. A constant stream of red pumped through his fingers. He showed a strained smile to his grandson. “I guess I wasn’t as tough as you thought, son.”
“Don’t say that, Granddad.”
“Go get the trauma kit quick!” Jack said to Doug. “Now!”
Doug raced back toward the RV.
“I’m bleeding like a stuck pig,” Max said. “It’s not going to do any good.”
“How can I help?” Jack said.
“Nothing you can do. I’m a goner, Jack. The damn fucker bit through my jugular.” He held out his calloused right hand and Jack gripped his bloody fingers. “You’re in charge now, Jack. Get everyone to Watkins and on that airlift.”
“I will,” he said, tears blurring his vision.
“There’s something else ... you must do … after I’m gone,” Max said, straining to put his .45 in Jack’s hands. “You know … what it is. … Promise me … you’ll … do … it. … Don’t let … me come back … as one of them.”
“I promise.”
A surprised look suddenly showed in the old man’s fading gaze. “I hear … heavenly music … angels singing … Amazing Grace … so beautiful …”
Max wheezed his last breath and went still.
In a mad dash, Doug returned and dropped the trauma kit upon seeing his dead grandfather. “Granddad!” he cried out, falling to his knees.
“He’s gone, Doug,” Jack said. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Doug threw himself across his grandfather’s broad chest and hugged him close. “Not my granddad!”
“You have to step away from the body now,” Jack said. “Please go back into the RV with the others.”
He snapped his head up and glared through his tears. “What are you going to do?”
“What I must.” Jack cocked the pistol.
“Not my Granddad. I won’t let you.”
“Believe me, it’s what he wanted.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“Doug, it’s time to grow up and be a man. Make your grandfather proud.”
“Come on.” Telia stepped forward and placed her hands on Doug’s shoulders. “Walk back with me to the RV. There’s nothing you can do for him now.”
“All right,” he said with a resigned voice. She helped him to his feet and they walked for a short distance before Doug turned back to his fallen grandfather. “I love you, Granddad.”
“He knows,” Telia said and led him into the Winnebago.
Jack looked with deep sadness at Max’s body. The man’s blue eyes stared up at the night sky. Leaning forward, Jack closed the eyelids with his fingertips. He couldn’t do the terrible task with the man looking up at him. As he pulled his hand away, the eyes suddenly reopened, showing nothing but a dull white. A low gurgling rumbled deep in the corpse’s throat and it struggled to sit up. Jack snap-fired the .45 and blew a hole between his eyes. The body slumped back to the ground and went inert.
“Rest in peace, Max,” Jack said, picking up the Remington. “You deserve it.”
With a heavy heart, he returned to the interior of the RV and found everyone in a state of mourning. Doug wept in Kerri’s arms while Kate and Brett cried together on the other couch. Telia occupied the driver’s seat with her head hung low.
“So what do we do now?” she said, wiping away her tears.
“We continue on.” Jack put the sniper rifle back in its case. “It was his last wish.”
“He was a cool old man,” Kerri said. “We will all miss him.”
“Yes, we will.”
Holding the folded triangle of the American flag, Brett left his mother’s side to stand before Jack. “He would want his flag, Dad,” he said with tears running down his face.
“You want me to give it to him?”
Brett nodded.
“Very well. I’ll be right back.”
Jack took the flag and returned to Max’s body. He unfurled the colors and covered the corpse like a blanket. Stepping back, he gave a final silent salute to the fallen hero. He turned to go back to the Winnebago and was surprised to find everyone else standing behind him in a semicircle.
“We need to say a few words,” Kate said, opening her Bible.
“Okay, but it is has to be short,” Jack said. “We’re not out of danger yet. There a
re still zombies out there.”
She nodded. “ ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For you are with me. Your rod and staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.’ ” She closed the book. “Lord, take this man’s soul and build for him a beautiful mansion where he will dwell for eternity in your grace. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone repeated.
As if on some divine cue, the distant harmony of Amazing Grace resonated on the night air.
Jack looked at Telia. “What the hell?” he muttered.
Telia shrugged and studied the sky. “I don’t know.”
“Angels!” Kate cried out and held her Bible above her head. “They’re coming for us! Singing down to us from heaven! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!”
Jack focused on the sound. The harmonic singing didn’t originate from anywhere overhead. “No,” he said, “it’s coming from somewhere on the ground.”
“The Victory in God Church is just a few blocks away,” Doug said.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Everyone returned to the RV in sullen silence. Jack locked the side door with a resounding click and faced the group. Deep sadness showed in each of their downcast faces and he understood their pain. Max had been a wise and strong benefactor to the group. He would be greatly missed. Leading them the rest of the way fell on Jack’s shoulders. He cleared his throat to get their attention.
“Max’s last wish was for us to continue on to Watkins,” he said. “I promised him we would do just that. Doug, how far is it from here?”
“Thirteen miles or so.”
Jack checked the clock on the RV’s dashboard. It read 12:01 a.m. “We’ve got a little over five hours to get to the airlift.”
“What’s the plan?” Telia said. “We’re low on ammo and halfway to our destination.”
Jack looked at Doug. “Max mentioned something about the Salt Fork River bridge. Where’s that?”
“A half-mile from here. It’s on the same road as the Victory in God Church. We’ll drive right by it.”
“Then we’re stopping by that church. We’ve encountered no other survivors on this road, and the people in that church survived for a reason. They may be able to help us. From there we continue across the Salt Fork River to Watkins, provided the bridge is passable. Doug, you’re our driver now. Max would’ve wanted it that way.”
“You got it, Mr. G.” He slid into the driver’s seat and put the RV in gear. “I’ll make my granddad proud, yo.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Jack picked up the half-empty box of shotgun ammo from the floor and started sliding shells into the Mossberg. “We’ll reload on the way over to the church.”
“It’s a house of worship, not a terrorist camp,” Kate said. “You won’t need your guns.”
“You don’t know that, Kate. We have no idea what kind of reception they’ll give us,” Jack said. “The apocalypse has changed everything. The collapse of civilization means people don’t have to be civil. There’s no law or order anymore. People will resort to base survival instincts and make their own laws. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Telia said while thumbing 9mm rounds into the empty magazines of her Glocks.
* * * *
Because of the debris littering the road, Doug drove Natalie at a very slow pace toward the center of Harrison. He eased the RV around scattered tree limbs and broken masonry that had collapsed onto the road. They’d traveled only a couple of blocks when he brought the RV to a halt.
“Mr. G, you’d better take a look at this.”
“What is it now?”
“You tell me.” Doug pointed out the window.
The RV’s headlights shone down the center street of the abandoned town. The skeletal frames of the few standing storefronts lined the avenue. The rest of the buildings were nothing but piles of rubble. On the wall of one damaged building stretched a painted billboard with the words The Victory in God Church of Harrison welcomes you to worship every Sunday. In fresh red paint, someone had added No Trespassing. Zombies and Fags will be shot.
Jack shook his head. “Shit, that’s not good.”
“You called it, Mr. G,” Doug said. “So much for law-abiding citizens.”
“I hate it when I’m right.”
“What’s the problem?” Telia holstered her Glocks and joined them. “More zombies?”
“Yeah, church zombies.” Jack pointed to the billboard and said in a low voice, “I’m afraid that church has gone off the deep end. We don’t need any more religious crazies right now. I got enough just dealing with my wife, so it’s best to avoid them. Doug, can we drive around the church and get across the bridge to Watkins?”
“There’s no way, and if we backtrack now, we won’t make the airlift in time. We have no other choice but to cross the bridge.” Doug nodded out the window. “Besides, I think the church is coming to meet us.”
Jack looked down the dark road through the center of town. A set of headlights raced across the broken terrain in their direction. “They probably heard the gunshots and sent someone to investigate,” he said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Shut the lights off, but keep the motor running.” He turned to the others, who were gathered behind him. “Okay, everybody, we got company coming and we don’t know what they want. Kate you take the kids and hide in the back bedroom. There’s a sliding door, so shut it and stay hidden until I know it’s safe.”
“All right.” Kate gathered up Brett and Kerri and led them into the room. She gave him a worried look before she slid the door shut.
Telia turned off the interior lights and drew both Glocks. “I’ll stay out of sight,” she said, pressing her back against the wall.
“Good idea,” Jack said.
The oncoming headlights continued to brighten the RV’s windows.
“It’s a Dodge pickup,” Doug said. “I can tell by the front lights and the grill.”
Jack jumped into the passenger seat and hid the Mossberg on the floor as the approaching truck slid to a stop thirty yards down the road. The driver hit the high beams, making it impossible for anyone to see the occupants behind the blinding glare. A tense minute passed in silence with the two vehicles facing each other.
“Hey, you in the Winnebago,” a voice finally called out in a heavy Oklahoma drawl. “We’d like to talk to you.”
Jack rolled down his window. “Yeah, about what?” he shouted.
“Was it you doing all the shooting earlier?”
“We ran into a group of zombies back at the trailer park,” Jack yelled.
“We heard the gunfire. Come on out and we’ll talk.”
“It’s a lot safer in here,” Jack said. “I’ll pass.”
“Then maybe we can join you in there instead? Get to know each other a little better.”
Jack settled back into his seat and ran a hand through his hair.
“What’s the plan, Mr. G?” Doug said.
“I don’t know yet. Give me a second.” Jack turned to Telia. “What do you suggest?”
Her dark eyes gazed out at the headlights. “Whoever they are, it’s a sure bet they’re armed. No one would be crazy enough to drive around without some protection. So it’s safe to assume they’ve got firearms. We’re low on ammo and can’t sustain another shootout for long. That leaves only two options. Run or talk.”
“There’s no way we’re outrunning them in this big Winnebago, and I’m not letting strangers in here without checking them out first. I’ll just have to go out and see what they want.” Jack opened his door. “But I’m leaving the shotgun here.”
“That’s very risky.”
“I don’t want this to turn into a shootout at the O.K. Corral. Everyone’s on edge now. If they see me with a weapon, they may shoot and ask questions la
ter. I’m not going to give them a reason to be trigger-happy. If they check out, then I’ll bring them back here and have a talk. If things turn sour, you’ll be here with the weapons and can defend yourself.”
“Be careful,” Telia said.
Jack laughed and unlocked the door. “You sound like Kate.”
He stepped out into the bright headlights of the Dodge pickup. The only sound was the haunting harmony of the church choir in the distance.
“Shut off your lights so I can see you,” Jack shouted.
The lights went dark to reveal three men standing beside a blue pickup truck. Two had sleek-looking assault rifles pointed straight at him. The sight caused Jack’s heart to jump, and he swallowed his fear.
“No need for guns.” Jack raised his arms. “I’m unarmed.”
“We just wanted to make sure,” one called back.
The men lowered their weapons and Jack studied the trio in the red moonlight. They were obviously related, sharing the same hardened facial features and the same grim look in their eyes. The oldest had a shaved head, while the other two wore ball caps. The youngest sported a cutoff T-shirt depicting a pole-dancing stripper, with the words I Support Single Moms stenciled below. With their faded blue jeans and scuffed cowboy hats, they gave off a tough Oklahoma farm-boy vibe. If this had been the Old West, Jack thought to himself, these three would be the ones robbing stagecoaches and trains. The analogy didn’t give him much confidence.
The bald one spit onto the ground, which only enhanced his outlaw image. “It’s been a shitty day, huh?” he said. “Earthquakes and zombies. Who would’ve guessed it?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Real shitty. So why am I standing out here?”
The man laid his rifle on the truck hood and pulled a Skoal can from his back pocket. “It might be doomsday, but there’s no reason we can’t be neighborly. Come over and join us. Maybe we can help each other out.”
Jack walked to the front of the truck. He hoped the three couldn’t see how intimidated he was.
Undead Flesh Page 16