Marina said, holding up her gun.
Though Samir was excited as well, he said, “She’s still got to make it over the fence.”
“She will,” Ian said, “And I’m going next.”
Kamara was on the hood giving the shamblers the perfect downward swing to the noggin. They could only reach with their hands. They couldn’t figure out how to climb up. All she had to do was remain in the middle where they couldn’t grab her, but she still had to figure out how to get over them to the fence. Ten feet wasn’t far. Maybe she could jump it from there. It was only about a foot higher than the car’s hood.
Ian called to her, “Kamara, you okay up there?!”
“Um, not quite sure. I don’t know if I can make it.”
“I’m going up there,” Ian said, looking at Marina, “Cover me; I’ll use the Ruger too.”
“Fuck,” Marina said, scooting over on the seat so she was directly behind him as he exited the vehicle. He swung the mace in a wide arc as he shoved open the door. Three fell at his feet. He raised the Ruger in his other hand; not an easy task considering the heft of his both sharp and blunt weapon, and began firing at the others beginning to crowd around him. He had no idea how many shots he had left. It was three. Marina shot the rest that were in his vicinity. No time to reload, he clambered quickly up the side of the vehicle, joining Kamara. The car rocked with the weight of their bodies and teetered forward several inches atop the heap of corpses. Kamara smiled, happy to not be alone.
“This hunk of junk is not going to be able to handle all four of us,” Ian said. “I don’t know about you, but using their heads as stepping stones is beginning to look like a good idea.”
“I thought of that, but shit like that only works in the movies,” she said.
“You mean, like both of us getting up here
safely?”
“Ha ha, yeah. Something like that.”
“We’re going to have to get out and clear the way for them,” Marina said from inside the car. “Me with the AK, you with the shotgun. There’s no other choice. We’ll have to fire at all the ones closest to the fence, until they can get over, and then clear the path for us.”
“Crap,” Samir said. He looked down.
“Samir, are you with me?”
He stayed quiet a moment longer and then said, “Yes, I’m with you.”
They burst out the doors and began firing.
twenty-five
The 1960 Dodge Charger blasted down the highway. Jomo held on tight to the door handle. It wasn’t long before they saw the signs for D.C.
“We’re getting close,” he said, “Slow down.”
Lupe did, easing into the first exit for the nation’s capitol. Cruising the littered streets, they could see zombies wandering about aimlessly, landmarks in the distance.
“See any survivors?” Jomo asked.
“Not yet.”
They toured the streets for several blocks when they heard screams, and Jomo pointed. “There!”
Lupe drove toward the crowd. It looked like there were three people, two men and a woman trying to fend off a dozen or more zombies. It was unclear as to whether or not they were armed, but the woman’s scream seemed to imply they were in some amount of trouble.
“Well, this looks familiar,” Lupe said. They exited the car from half a block away, running toward them with their weapons, hoping for the element of surprise. The woman had red hair and was easy to pick out amongst the mostly gray rotting corpses.
Lupe began swinging the staff at them as soon as she was in striking distance. The satisfying strike of wood against bone got her adrenaline up and she was taking out two and three at a time. Jomo speared the undead through the back of the head and through the temple when they began to turn toward them.
Now they could see the woman had some sort of long handled knife and the men had a bat and a
golf club, respectively. It didn’t seem like weapons they’d chosen for combat but things they’d picked up along the way for survival.
Upon closer inspection the weapon the female had was a 10” short machete used for clearing brush. They were unaware that someone was helping them until they’d cleared the ones in front of them.
The woman raised the machete and almost swung it at Lupe once all the zombies were gone.
Lupe raised one hand in surrender, the other still holding the Bo Staff. “Whoa, whoa whoa!! Easy there!”
The red head looked confused for a moment, and then shook it off. “Y-you’re human!!”
“Indeed we are,” Jomo said.
“Christ, I haven’t seen a human since South Carolina!”
“Join the club,” Lupe said.
“Who are you?” one of the men said.
“Travelers. We were heading to the Capitol building.”
“Us too!” he said excitedly.
“I’m Guadalupe, Lupe for short. This is Jomo.”
They shook hands.
“I’m Madelyn, Maddie for short,” the red head replied.
“Nicholas.”
“Kyle.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jomo said.
“You’re travelling on foot?” Lupe asked.
“Yes,” Kyle said. “Our car broke down about thirty miles down the road.”
“We have transportation,” Lupe said. “You’re welcome to come with us.”
“Thank you so much!” Maddie said. “That would be- great!”
They looked and sounded exhausted.
They pointed the way, and the group followed. Lupe and Jomo drove in front as always while the three newcomers squeezed into the back.
“Not far now,” Jomo said.
Soon the domed capitol loomed large in the windshield, and a smile overtook their faces as if all burdens had finally lifted.
***
Washington was an exit away. George turned the RV onto the ramp. Xinga sat up on the couch kneeling and turning to look out the window.
After many broken, garbled broadcasts, this time the transmission came through loud and clear.
“Again, I’m Dr. Theodore Fielding. If you reach D.C. come to the capitol building. If you have a CB please use it to contact us and we’ll give you our location. Please don’t be disheartened if we do not answer right away. We are going to great lengths to reach survivors and I dare say risking our lives to contact you. But you will be safest with us, that I can assure you.”
The RV did have a Citizen’s Band, and George picked it up now.
Lana looked at him, hopeful.
“This is George, Lana, and Xinga. We are survivors, now in D.C. We are attempting to make contact with Dr. Fielding. If you can hear us please respond.”
They waited a few moments. No answer.
“This is George...” he repeated the message several times.
“Nothing,” he said. Zombies were shuffling about the streets, looking up at the odd vehicle in their midst, not quite yet smelling the human flesh that lay beyond its walls. They drove toward the capitol building, getting within blocks, and he tried again.
“Hello?” George said. “Hello?”
He waited a moment and then the CB sputtered to life. “This is Dr. Fielding.”
Xinga had joined them, standing between them in the front cabin and now screamed in joy with them.
“You say you are in D.C.?”
“Yes,” George replied, “Yes! We are currently about one block from the capitol.”
The voice that reached them was momentarily distorted, but they could still make out the words. “Excellent! Stop where you are. Park your vehicle out of sight. You’ll need to make the rest of your journey on foot.”
“Will do,” George said. “I mean 10-4.”
“Now you must listen to my instructions very carefully, and follow them precisely. All our lives depend on it.”
***
Three hours before Lupe and Jomo’s and five hours before Xinga’s arrival in D.C. the rest of their splintered group was in full surv
ival mode.
Samir’s shotgun boomed and Marina’s AK rattled as she pressed her finger on the trigger and sprayed from side to side, Samir positioned on the left side of the vehicle and Marina on the right. Ian and Kamara moved down from the top of the vehicle to the front hood as the zombies fell down around the front of the vehicle. Samir and Marina had the tricky job of dropping the ones closest to them as well as the ones farthest from them, which lay in the way of their peer’s path to the fence. The shamblers in the middle simply had to wait until the other two cleared the barrier. At least the White House lawn appeared zombie free.
Ariel barked inside the car, afraid to venture out the open doors.
“The dog!” Samir said, “We can’t leave her!”
He walked backward toward the vehicle.
“Samir, don’t!” Marina shouted as she continued to fire. He couldn’t hear her, or didn’t listen. He went back for the dog, lifting her out of the car and onto the curb. As he rose up three zombies surrounded him. He brought the shotgun up to blast the one in front in the head, and elbowed the one to his right. He didn’t have time to address the one coming from his left. It grabbed him by the elbow, raising the appendage and taking a large bite out of his forearm. Samir screamed, turning the gun in his right hand back in anger, cracking the top of its head with the muzzle until it let go, and then blasting its skull to bits.
Marina looked back for a second. “Samir, no!!”
The dog Ariel ran between their feet. Samir pushed his way forward. Kamara and Ian saw what had happened from their precarious perch on the car’s hood. It was now or never. They dove atop the pile of bodies that had accumulated and climbed over them to the fence. Marina kept blasting away at any that came near them. Samir wished he had a bayonet attachment for the shotgun and it was getting harder to lift the gun with his good arm, with the screeching pain at his left. Marina had cleared a large path between them and he rushed toward her.
She looked back as he approached, forcing a smile. “Maybe there’ll be a cure inside,” she said
hopefully.
“I hope so,” Samir said.
“Come on,” she said, cutting through a row of shamblers ahead. “We should be able to make it now.”
She helped push him up the fence where Kamara and Ian were already climbing over. Ariel pawed at her legs.
Once Ian and Kamara were over it and on the other side, Marina lifted the dog up to the top where they grabbed it and brought it over. Samir went over next, falling to the grass on the other side, nursing his arm. Ian and Kamara helped him up.
“I’m so sorry Samir,” Kamara said. He nodded.
“Marina, come on!” they shouted.
Marina looked at the plague of those things behind her, and began firing again. She cried out in anger, frustration, screaming as she watched their heads explode beneath the gunfire.
“Come on!” they shouted.
Finally, after several minutes she was spent, and so too nearly was her ammo. The farthest shambler had to be at least fifty feet away. She spider crawled up the fence and over to join her group. Ian was tearing off a shirt sleeve to wrap Samir’s wound. The blood instantly soaked through.
They walked forward on the lawn toward the White House. For a few moments nothing happened. Then it was all noise and confusion. At a certain point they must have tripped some sort of sensor. Lights blared, and a loud piercing siren wailed. Behind the blinding lights they could make out vague forms on the rooftop. The blinding white lights gave way to search lights, one of which fell on the group.
The shadows on the rooftop had weapons. They appeared to be assault rifles, likely with scopes. Snipers. One of them got on a loudspeaker horn and said, “Lower your weapons!”
They did, placing them on the grass.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“We’re survivors!” Samir said. “We’re here for shelter!”
There was an audible pause in which they could almost feel the nod, before he asked, “Are any of you bit?”
“Our friend here was bit on the arm, just a moment ago,” Marina said.
Samir lifted his bloody arm with the soaked through shirt sleeve.
“Do it,” they heard someone say farther away from the loud speaker.
Multiple rounds were fired. Samir’s body shook under the assault, as his body was riddled with bullets until someone mercifully placed the last round to his head, and he fell backward onto the grass. The group did not see it as a mercy, but a murder.
They cried and screamed and shouted and cursed in shock, falling to their knees beside Samir. Ariel whined and sniffed at his face. The man that risked his life for her was gone.
“What did you do?!” Ian shouted. “What did you do?!”
Before they could fully rise, before they even thought of grabbing for their weapons, which would have meant the end of all of them, men ran toward them from all sides in black military gear and grabbed them. They placed their hands behind them and handcuffed them.
“Understand, this is for your safety as well as ours,” one of them said. “We don’t want to kill you.”
“Could have fooled me,” Marina said.
“That was a mercy kill. Be glad you don’t have to be on the receiving end.”
One of the men put a leash around the dog,
and though Ariel growled low in her throat, she didn’t bite. Kamara wouldn’t want to know what happened if she did. Another picked up their weapons.
Gently, but with the implication of force they nudged them forward, marching them toward the White House.
“What are you going to do with us?” Kamara asked one of them. It was better to know what was coming than not. Ian and Marina glared at him as they waited for the answer.
The man grinned. “Why, haven’t you heard? We’re going to build us a whole new society.”
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