Undead Flesh

by Dennis McDonald

“Don’t stop. Drive through them,” Jack said.

  “You got it.” Doug stepped on the gas and aimed for the lead zombie. The man’s body slammed into the grill and went thumping under the Winnebago tires. Zombies pounded the outside of the RV as it continued plowing through the rest of the mob. Leaving the undead staggering in its wake, Doug picked up speed and continued heading down Highway 11.

  The interstate soon became a maze of wrecked vehicles and wandering zombies. Careful to avoid hazards in the road and prevent damage to the RV, Doug drove at speeds between 20 to 30 mph. At times he had to slow to less than 10 mph to avoid a piece of broken asphalt or vehicle wreckage. The going was slow but steady. They drove three more miles before they encountered a single figure walking down the center lane of the highway.

  “Stop,” Telia said to Doug.

  “Why?”

  She pointed toward the lone zombie in the headlights. The walking corpse was an Oklahoma Highway Patrol officer whose chest had had been ripped open, leaving a nasty raw-meat cavity in its place. As he dragged his foot behind him, it also appeared that his leg had been broken.

  “I know that guy,” Telia said. “It’s Ted Allison. He attended several of my OSBI operational briefings with his partner. He looked a hell of a lot better then.”

  She pointed at his hip. “He’s still carrying his sidearm.”

  “What’s the plan?” Jack said.

  “He’s got a Glock just like mine. We need it and any ammo he’s carrying.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Jack said. “Let’s do this quickly.”

  “It’ll only take a minute.” She pulled the machete from her hip sheath and stepped toward the door. “Wait for me here.”

  Jack grabbed her arm. “Nobody goes anywhere alone, remember?”

  “Then come and distract him for me. I’ll take him down with the machete so we can save our ammo.”

  “After you.”

  They hopped out the side door and walked toward the undead officer. As they drew nearer, he let out an inhuman moan and staggered toward them, dragging his broken leg.

  “Ted,” Jack shouted in an attempt to get the thing’s attention. When the zombie turned to face him, Telia attacked from behind. She swung the machete with both hands and decapitated the officer in one blow. As the body fell prone, the head bounced into the roadside ditch and looked up at them with dead-white eyes.

  “Forgive me for doing that, Ted,” Telia said as she bent down to the headless corpse. “At least you can rest in peace now.” She unsnapped the gun belt and removed the pistol and the magazines. The last thing she salvaged was his handcuffs. “You never know when these might come in handy,” she said, sliding them into her back pocket.

  Jack scanned the highway ahead and saw an electric glow on the horizon. “Check that out.” He pointed.

  “What is it?”

  “Brody Cordell told me Watkins still had electricity. That must be the lights of the town ahead.”

  “That’s only a few miles away.”

  “Let’s get back to the RV.”

  They returned quickly to Natalie, where they found Doug talking into the handheld radio.

  “I tried to reach the National Guard armory.” He put down the unit. “Nobody’s answering, yo. I hope that doesn’t mean everybody’s been eaten by now.”

  “We’ll try again when we get closer,” Jack said and checked the clock. “We’ve only got an hour left.”

  “Let me see your binoculars,” Kate said after the RV resumed its trek down the highway.

  Jack removed the field glasses from the equipment pile and handed them to her. She scanned the sides of the road.

  “What are you looking for?” Jack said.

  “I’ll let you know when I find it.”

  Weaving their way through wrecked vehicles and sporadic groups of zombies, Doug drove toward the lights on the horizon as fast as the damaged highway allowed. Telia continued searching with the binoculars. After a couple of miles, she suddenly sat straight up in her chair.

  “I found it,” she said. “Stop the RV.”

  “Again?” Doug said and brought the Winnebago to a slow stop. “We’re running out of time.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Jack said.

  “It’s off the side of the road in a field.” Telia grabbed the spotlight and shone it out the window. “Take a look.”

  The white beam played across a wrecked Oklahoma Highway Patrol cruiser lying on its roof thirty yards away.

  “I figured Ted didn’t walk far with a broken leg,” Telia said. “I had a hunch his vehicle had to be somewhere in the area.”

  “We can search it for weapons and ammo,” Jack said.

  “You got it. Anything we can salvage from the wreck can be helpful. We don’t know how many zombies are waiting for us in Watkins.”

  “I’m going with you,” Jack said.

  “That’s fine.” Telia removed her machete from its sheath. “Just stay close.”

  Jack stepped out of the RV and followed Telia, who illuminated their way with a Mag-Lite. He had brought along the Mossberg even though it was empty. Having the shotgun in his hands gave him a sense of security.

  Telia shone the flashlight along the furrowed field scattered with pieces of broken glass and colored plastic. The patrol car had rolled multiple times before coming to a stop on its roof. They reached the side of the wreckage and heard something being eaten on the other side. Telia handed him the flashlight.

  “Sounds like zombie chewing,” Jack said in a low voice.

  Telia nodded and pulled her machete. “Cover me with the light.”

  They rushed around the front of the overturned vehicle. Jack swung the Mag-Lite’s beam onto the source of the noise and froze in shock when a large coyote bolted off into the night.

  “Scared the fuck out of me,” Jack said.

  He shone the light across the bloodied ground beside the patrol car and revealed another undead Highway Patrol officer. His legs had been crushed beneath the wrecked vehicle, giving the coyote an opportunity to feed on the living corpse. Long strips of bloody sinew and organs had been pulled from the zombie’s torso. Stenciled on his uniform’s gold name bar was “Officer David Walker.” As they approached him, he looked up with dead white eyes set in a gaunt face and emitted a terrible moan that Telia ended by splitting his head with the machete.

  “Poor Dave,” she said, yanking out the blade and returning it to her hip sheath. “He was Ted’s partner. He made a pass at me once. I seem to be killing off all the men in my life.”

  “In the end he was dog food. That sucks. At least you put him out of his misery.”

  Telia knelt down and removed the Glock and the spare magazines from the dead officer’s gun belt.

  “Jack, can we talk?” she suddenly said, straightening up.

  “I don’t like the sound of that. It never bodes well when a girl asks a guy if they can talk. What’s up?”

  “There’s something I need to ask you. It’s been bugging the hell out of me.”

  “Okay. Shoot.” He glanced at the Glock in her hand. “That’s just a figure of speech, by the way.”

  Telia slid the pistol into her waistband and bent low to look inside the vehicle. “Jack, shine some light in here. I’m hoping I can find shotgun ammo for you.”

  Jack shone the flashlight through the broken side window. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “How did you know the church was about to be destroyed?” She said after crawling through the side window. “Earlier, when I woke you from the nightmare, you said someone was about to die. After that we lost Max. What’s going on, Jack? Are you psychic or something?”

  “No.”

  “So what is it?”

  “Telia, it’s hard to explain. I don’t know if you’d understand. It’s pretty strange.”

  “After the shit I’ve been through today? I’ve dealt with a busload of zombie children, the crazy Cordell brothers, and I’m rummaging through a zom
bie HiPo’s car. I think I can handle strange. So tell me how you know things before they happen?”

  “Do you believe in guardian angels?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “I think I have one,” Jack said and shrugged. “At least I think he’s a guardian angel. He warns me when the shit is about to hit the fan.”

  “A guardian angel?” She chuckled and continued looking through the wreck. “You kidding me?”

  “See, I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “What does this guardian angel look like?”

  “A decrepit old man in shitty pants. Oh, and he has eyes like a crow.”

  “Okay, that’s strange.” She laughed and slid back out through the broken side window. She held up a box of 12-gauge shotgun shells. “Found some.”

  “Great. I can reload the Mossberg now.”

  She hesitated before handing over the shell box. “First, let’s get something straight between us. I don’t like surprises, Jack. From this point on, you let me know if you have any more psychic visions or visits from your guardian angel about our future.”

  “Will do.”

  She tossed him the ammo. “Next stop is a zombie-filled town and we’ve already lost Kate and Max. The only way we’re leaving Watkins alive is on that National Guard airlift, and it’s a slim chance they’ll even show up. We’re zombie food if they don’t. You get my drift?”

  “Don’t mince words, Telia. Say how you really feel.” Jack slid rounds into the Mossberg.

  “I’m just keeping it real. Isn’t that how you put it?” Her dark eyes met his. “What I’m trying to say is, we’re taking a very risky gamble with our lives. If we fail, we’re dead. Can you face that reality with your children? What if you can’t save them from being eaten by zombies? Have you prepared for that contingency? I need your answer, Jack. There’s no turning back once we leave here. It’s all or nothing.”

  He thought for a moment. Telia had spoken the sobering truth. A death sentence waited for them if they missed the airlift. But what kind of life could he offer his children if they didn’t take the chance? Hiding from zombies while trying to scrape by and survive each day? He had to try for something better.

  “I have to do this, Telia,” Jack said. “It’s the only chance my family has to escape this nightmare. Like you said, it’s all or nothing.”

  “You’re a hell of a man, Jack.” She smiled. “God, I wish I would’ve met one like you before this fucked-up mess. Your wife was very lucky.”

  “I haven’t always been this good. I was more worried about living in the bottle than being a father for my kids. I realize now what’s really important in the world. They’re all I’ve got.”

  “Bad times can bring out the best in a person. Maybe the worst of times can change a person completely for the better.” She surprised him by kissing his cheek. “Let’s go catch that airlift.”

  The RV’s horn sounded, and they raced over the muddy ground to reach the Winnebago.

  “What’s up?” Jack said upon entering through the side door.

  Doug held up the handheld radio, excitement showing in his face. “I’m talking to the National Guard armory.”

  He turned up the volume on the radio. Corporal Billings’ voice came in over the static.

  “We’re under attack. The zombies have breached our last barricades.” Gunshots sounded in the background of the transmission. “We can’t hold our position much longer.”

  Jack grabbed the radio from Doug. “Are the copters still en route?”

  “Affirmative. Fifteen minutes out from the EVAC point. We’re attempting to retreat to the roof.” More gunfire sounded over the speaker. “I must end this transmission to be in radio contact with the pilot. Good luck. Corporal Billings out.”

  The radio went silent.

  “Get us there quick!” Telia said. “We don’t have much time! Those copters will be coming in hot and fast.”

  “You got it.” Doug put Natalie in gear and accelerated down the highway toward the lights of Watkins.

  “I’ll wake the kids,” Jack said.

  He made his way to the bedroom and shook Kerri from her sleep.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” she said, sitting up.

  “Wake your brother and join the rest of us.”

  “Are we in Watkins?”

  “Close.”

  Kerri turned to Brett. “Come on, little bro. Wake up. It’s almost over.”

  Brett sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I had a dream about Mom. She told me to be brave and do what Dad says.”

  “Your Mom was always right,” Jack said.

  He stepped aside to let them pass. His heart swelled with love as he watched them sit together on the couch. The haunting words Telia had said earlier forced him to contemplate the unthinkable. If they failed to make the airlift, there would be no surviving the zombies. Reaching into his shell box, he removed two 12-gauge rounds and turned them over in his hand.

  Plan A was to make the airlift. There was no Plan B.

  He slid the shells into his back pocket. One for each of his children.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jack returned to join the others in the front of the RV. “We’ve been in radio contact with the armory,” he said to his children. “They’re waiting for the airlift. We’re driving as fast as possible to Watkins. From here on it might get real bumpy.”

  “Hold on to me,” Brett said to Kerri.

  “Okay, bro.”

  Jack checked the road ahead. The lights of Watkins, Oklahoma, blazed on the horizon like a glowing oasis rising out of the darkness. Doug drove the RV expertly around any obstructions and potholes they encountered. Everyone braced themselves as the Winnebago bounced hard over a piece of broken asphalt.

  “Hope she holds together, yo,” Doug said.

  “She will,” Jack said and crossed his fingers for good luck.

  Telia turned in the passenger seat. “Jack, get me the binoculars,” she said.

  He handed them over and she used them to peer out the side window toward the skyline.

  After a couple of minutes, she said, “I see the copters!”

  “Really?”

  “They’re coming under the cloud cover. Three of them. Two Black Hawks and a Pave Low transport copter. I see their running lights. Hell, I can even fly one if I have to,” she said with growing excitement. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Let me have a look.” Jack grabbed the glasses and saw the silhouettes of three helicopters flying against the dark cloud cover. “Sweet Jesus, it’s really happening,” Jack said.

  “They’re on final approach to the EVAC,” Telia said.

  The RV hit another rut in the road and shuddered hard on its suspension.

  “I’m going as fast as I can,” Doug said. “If I go any faster, it’ll tear Natalie apart.”

  They passed a broken billboard announcing the town limits. They drove up an overpass that gave them a view of the town’s layout. Lined with halogen streetlights on both sides, Highway 11 ran down the center of the business district. Jack surveyed the earthquake damage to the small city. Half the buildings were damaged but remained standing. The other half were in ruins. Several fires burned amid the devastation, with wandering bands of zombies staggering through the vacant streets. Adding to the surreal sight was the fact that the town had electricity. Lights shone through building windows and on several of the streets.

  Doug poured on the gas and the RV raced down the overpass.

  “Do you know the way to the armory?” Jack said.

  “I sure do,” Doug said. “It’s next to a ball field. I played there in a tourney a few years ago.” A pileup of wrecked vehicles blocked the way ahead. “Hang on!”

  He swerved the lumbering RV around a corner on squealing tires.

  “How far?” Telia said.

  “Six blocks to go.”

  Jack rechecked the skies with the binoculars. The Army National Guard copters flew in a ti
ght formation over the town and banked in the direction of the armory. He grabbed the radio and pushed the call button. “Corporal Billings, we’re in a Winnebago and just a short distance away from your location. We’re trying to make it to the airlift. There are women and children with me. Please don’t leave without us.”

  The only reply was a constant stream of static.

  “Damn it!” Jack said. “They’re not receiving me.”

  The RV rounded another corner and raced through a residential neighborhood composed of small homes and apartments. A large fallen tree blocked the way ahead. At the last second, Doug whipped the wheel and bounced the RV onto a sidewalk, knocking aside trash cans and mailboxes before swinging back onto the street. The three Army copters roared overhead in an approach pattern.

  “The ballpark’s up ahead, yo,” Doug said. “The armory’s just beyond it.”

  Jack spotted the tall ballpark lights and his heart sank. A massive crowd of zombies, numbering in the hundreds, filled the playing field beneath the park lights. He had never seen so many walking undead at one time.

  “Holy shit!” Doug shouted. “There’s nothing but freaking zombies in the park blocking our way.”

  “Drive through them,” Jack said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Do it!”

  “Hold on to your asses,” Doug said.

  He turned the steering wheel, smashed through a chain-link fence, and raced the RV across the ball field at full speed toward the undead horde. Jack braced himself against the back of Telia’s chair. A second later, Natalie slammed into the zombie mass with such impact that it flung bodies into the air like broken dolls. Blood and visceral matter splattered the windshield. The big Winnebago continued plowing its way through the undead, crushing corpses beneath its wheels. The sheer drag of so many bodies slowed the vehicle to a crawl. Zombies pounded against the windows in a frenzy to break in. A side window shattered, and Kerri screamed as a moaning undead man grabbed at her with both hands. Jack snapped up the Mossberg, shoved it inside the horror’s mouth, and pulled the trigger. The blast blew the zombie’s head apart, sending the corpse slipping out of the window before disappearing from sight.

  “Gross!” Karri cried out. The shot had splattered her blouse with brains and pieces of bone. “Oooh! Really freaking gross!”