Stopping the Dead

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Stopping the Dead Page 7

by Gunther, Cy


  “Oh my fucking God,” Corey moaned, “I just want to get out of this fucking store.”

  A glance back at the door showed a pair of dead teenagers pushing at the glass.

  “We’re just going to have to deal with those outside,” Brian snapped, shoving a fat nun backwards before slamming the machete into her temple, ichor splurting out around the weapon. She weighed so much that he nearly fell with her before he was able to jerk the blade free.

  “How the fuck can a nun be fat?” he asked.

  “Why, does that turn you on?” Corey snickered.

  “Oh, you’re a real funny motherfucker today,” Brian said, slamming a rack of clothes towards a priest with a gimpy leg.

  “Every day, my dear brother, every fucking day. Everyone knows that I’m the funny one.”

  “Everyone knows that you’re the dumb one, too,” Brian replied.

  “Don’t hate,” Corey laughed, “don’t hate.”

  The two brothers became quiet as they finished the last of the undead priests and nuns off, Brian hastily slamming the back door shut. Corey hurried up and slammed a straight-back chair under the doorknob and kicked it into place.

  Simultaneously the two of them sighed and shook their heads.

  “Now the front,” Corey said.

  “I need a fucking minute here, bro,” Brian said, adjusting his pack. His clean utes were splattered with whatever shit the zombies had for blood. Corey was just the same. After a moment Brian realized that they were both breathing heavily. “So,” he said, “all we have to do are kill those two fucks – ”

  “Three,” Corey said.

  “What?” Brian looked to the door and saw a legless man between the teenagers pounding on the bottom. “Fuck. Yeah. Three. Kill those fucking three and make it across the street.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” Corey said.

  “Just as easy as slipping into the thrift shop and picking up some shit for Michael and Susan, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Fuck you,” Brian sighed.

  “And fuck you, too.”

  Brian chuckled. “Okay, anything else in here we want?”

  “Do you think that they have any skin flicks in here?”

  “Really, Corey?” Brian asked. “Maybe I should just beat the shit out of you.”

  “Later, later.”

  The two brothers looked at each other and laughed.

  “Okay,” Corey said, “let’s fucking do this.”

  The two went to the door, stepping over fallen merchandise and the dead. Together they pushed, with Brian near the edge. The zombies pushed against the door, their moans loud through the glass as they tried to reach the twins.

  “Stupid mindless fucks,” Corey grunted, and as the door opened just enough, the legless zombie grabbed Brian by the right leg.

  Brian swung down with the machete, loping off the hand as it brought its head closer to his shin. Brian crushed its skull with the back swing, and they suddenly had the door open. Corey moved quickly, two slashes and the heads were tumbling, bouncing off of the brick and rolling along the sidewalk, mouths still moving, but the moaning gone as the bodies collapsed.

  “Dude,” Brian laughed, “you are getting fucking good with the whole decapitation thing.”

  “Akira Kurosawa, bitch,” Corey grinned, “told you that you should have watched more samurai flicks with me.”

  “Too busy getting laid.”

  “Your hand doesn’t count.”

  “Fuck you, according to DI Gordon it does,” Brian said. He looked down both sides of the street, saw that it was empty, and said, “Well, let’s get the fuck out of here. We can give a brief report at least.”

  “Yeah,” Corey yawned, “I’m actually feeling a little tired, for some reason.”

  “You, my brother, are a fucking prick,” Brian laughed, and led the way towards Ernst’s empty warehouse.

  Adam

  Adam sat in the shadows of the warehouse, looking at the fence, the bodies of the dead lying where they had fallen. Only after the twins had returned would they drag the dead off and burn them.

  Adam sighed and dropped his hand to Jack’s head, petting him on the head. The dog looked up, tongue lolling out of his mouth, smiling. Adam smiled back, muttering, “Hey stupid dog, what are you up to?”

  Diane came padding lightly around the corner, her hackles raised. Jack stood, growling, and Adam was on his feet, A4 ready. Both of the dogs started barking, looking past him towards the rear of the building. Adam spun, dropping to a knee as he brought the weapon up. A trio of men were running towards him, haggard looking and wearing police uniforms that had definitely seen better days.

  “Stop!” Adam snapped, but one of the men dropped his hand to a taser. Adam pulled the trigger –

  And the A4 jammed.

  “Fuck!” While he started to clear the weapon Jack went sprinting by, jumping in front of him, the taser hitting the dog and knocking him down. Even as Adam cleared the weapon and started to chamber a round, Diane was in front, snarling, barking, latching onto the throat of the officer with the taser. The two went down, blood spraying out as she tore the larynx out.

  Adam fired a single shot into the officer who was nearly on him, an SOG knife in his hand, edge gleaming in the sunlight. The man stumbled back, his vest taking most of the impact. Diane leapt on the man.

  The third officer collapsed, his neck exploding as the crack of Terrence’s M1 rang out.

  Adam stood, running towards Diane, who lay across the officer with the SOG, which was buried to its handle in her chest.

  Both of them were dead.

  Adam looked back at Jack, and knew, that he too was dead.

  Silently Adam bent down and took out the SOG from Diane’s breast. He put his rifle down, and slowly, methodically, started to cut the officer’s head free from his shoulders.

  Ernst

  Ernst and Lee ran side by side, shower and meals forgotten after the sound of the two shots. They reached the door in a matter of moments and were outside in the morning sun. Terrence stood at the edge of the warehouse, rifle lowered. Emily and the children hurried past, the woman shaking her head and speaking to them in Chinese as she went back into the building.

  Terrence looked over at them, holding up a hand. “It’s bad,” he said simply.

  “Thank you,” Ernst said, “but I’ll see it.”

  Terrence nodded.

  Ernst and Lee turned the corner to see a trio of bodies, and the bodies of the dogs. Among them Adam knelt, his back to them as he straightened up suddenly and tossed a head over to the warehouse wall. Calmly he stood, walked over to the next closest corpse, and squatted once more, cutting quickly and efficiently.

  In a short time he had all three heads against the warehouse and he stood. He turned and saw them standing there.

  “They killed my fucking dogs.”

  Ernst nodded. “Where do you want to mount the heads?”

  “The gate.”

  Ernst nodded again. “Do you want help with Jack and Diane?”

  Adam shook his head. “’Preciate it if you could take care of the rest of the fucking bodies, though.”

  “We will,” Lee said.

  Adam looked to Terrence. “Thanks for the help.”

  Terrence nodded and walked wordlessly back to the front door.

  Adam picked up his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder before bending down to pick up first Jack, then Diane, the dogs seeming to weigh nothing to him as he walked towards the back of the building.

  Ernst walked with Lee into the scene of carnage.

  “Cops,” Lee said.

  “And they don’t look like they’ve had an easy time of it these past few days.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I don’t see any sidearms either.”

  “We’re lucky with that,” Ernst said. “I don’t think that Adam would have had much of a chance if they’d had their service weapons with them.”

  “No,” she said, look
ing around, “I think it was close enough as it was.”

  “Yeah. We need to find out how they got in, though. And we’re going to have to start monitoring the cameras a little better now, too.”

  Lee nodded her agreement. “Well, let’s check the bodies first, make sure that there’s nothing useful on them before we go digging around.”

  “Okay.”

  The two of them quickly searched the corpses, coming up with nothing more than a pair of SOG knives, each engraved with five year markers for the local police department, and a single set of keys. Ernst took one of the knives, and Lee took the other. She also pocketed the keys in her BDU bottoms.

  “Alright,” Ernst said, standing up, “We’ll burn these fucks in a little bit.” He glanced over at the ladder, made sure that the two-way he had on his belt was still on, and asked, “Shall we?”

  “Why I’d love to dance,” Lee grinned, and led the way towards the fence.

  After twenty minutes of searching they found the crossing point, a part of the fence hidden in shadow, even in the sunlight. An old wool blanket was thrown over the barbed wire around the fence’s top, and a knotted nylon rope was secured to a fire hydrant and thrown over the blanket.

  “They must have been watching us for a while,” Lee said in a low voice.

  Ernst nodded, swallowing dryly. “And people wonder why I’m paranoid.”

  “Anyone copy?” Brian’s asked, voice coming from the handheld.

  Ernst took up the handheld, “Yeah.”

  “Hey, what the fuck happened over there? We can see the mess from the door here.”

  “Hold on,” Ernst said, “it’ll be easier to explain when you’re over here. Lee and I’ll be there in a minute to let you over. Don’t come out until we’re there, though.”

  “I copy,” Brian said.

  “What about Adam?” Lee asked.

  “He’s doing what he has to,” Ernst said. “Come on, let’s make sure that no other assholes show up when we get the brothers over.”

  Time

  June had ended, July had passed, and August as well. September was nearly finished, and the first bitter scents of a New England winter could be noticed on the wind. The sky had grown darker, as if something had stained it. Fear of a prolonged nuclear winter hung about the warehouse, but no one said anything.

  More cameras had been installed, and several living people had been shot at and warned away from the compound. Nearly all of them had been men of varying ages and races, each of them wearing a leather vest with some sort of insignia on the back.

  Patrols carried out by Lee, Ernst, Adam, and the twins resulted in little. Most of the barricades had been picked through, weapons and ammunition gone, fuel siphoned. A few were still useful, and it was on one of the useful patrols that Adam brought home a curious prize.

  Terrence

  Sitting at the table near the island, Terrence helped Emily with her English, which she had been steadily improving with everyone’s help. Everyone else, even the twins, had picked up some Chinese as well, speaking it haltingly to Emily and the children. Susan sat on Emily’s lap, wide eyed as she watched Ernst and Michael play a game of checkers.

  “No,” Ernst said around the stem of his pipe, “no, no, no, Michael, I know that you’re cheating.”

  The little boy giggled uncontrollably, saying, “No.”

  “Yes you are. You’re not allowed to move when it’s your turn.”

  “Yes I am!” Michael laughed.

  Lee looked over them from where she sat at the island, watching the monitors for the security cameras. “Losing again, Ernst?”

  “Only because he cheats,” Ernst said, then he took his pipe out of his mouth, winking as he said to Lee, “And that’s because he learned it from you.”

  “I will jam that pipe right down your throat, you know.”

  “I know,” Ernst winked again, and went back to complaining about the game.

  Terrence turned his attention back to Emily when the door to the warehouse open, Adam walking in, rifle slung and something in his hand. As he moved closer Terrence was able to see that it was a jean vest, tattered and filthy. He motioned to Ernst, who nodded.

  “One minute, kid,” Ernst said to Michael, “I need to speak with Adam for a second, okay?”

  Michael nodded.

  “And no cheating.”

  The little boy giggled and swung his feet happily.

  Ernst got up and walked to Adam, Terrence watching the two younger men. They spoke in soft voices, Ernst shaking his head as Adam showed him some sort of patch on the back of the vest. Adam looked over and motioned to Terrence, then to Lee.

  Terrence got up slowly, making his way with care. Emily smiled at him, and he returned it, wondering what it was that Adam had, and how he was going to explain it to the woman.

  He and Lee joined Adam and Ernst, and Lee swore under her breath as she caught sight of the vest.

  Terrence merely shook his head, asking, “Where did you find it?”

  “Out on the edge of the last warehouse, he was snooping around. He had a machete, but he wasn’t quick enough,” Adam answered.

  Terrence looked at the skinned face stitched to the back of the jacket. More skin spelled out the word ‘DEAD’ across the top. “Some sort of new gang?”

  “Probably,” Ernst said. “Show them what else you found, Adam.”

  Adam dug into his pocket and pulled out a police officer’s shield. “I checked the guy’s wallet, which he still carried,” he said, shaking his head, “and he was a cop. Allen Richards. Hollis PD.”

  Terrence sighed. “That’s not sounding too good, now is it.”

  Lee shook her head. “That means that they have access to a pretty significant set of resources. And he was scouting us?”

  Adam nodded. “And he’s not the first one that I’ve seen.”

  “The twins have talked about spotting a few guys sporting colors,” Ernst said, letting out a stream of smoke. “If they’re police officers that would explain the three who killed Jack and Diane.”

  Adam’s mouth tightened into a thin line.

  Terrence looked at him and sighed. “We’re really going to have to step up our security, aren’t we?”

  “Yes,” Ernst said. “I think so.”

  “We’ll need to readjust the cameras, make sure that they’re really covering all of the access points,” Lee said.

  “And I’ll get on the radio,” Terrence added, “see if there’s any information out there amongst the few operators who I get.”

  “I’ll start looking at choke points,” Adam said, “and I’ll talk to the twins about it as well.”

  “Excuse me,” Emily said in a soft voice from the table.

  All of them turned to face her. She smiled, and said slowly, “I...think that I know…how… how to block…” she shook her head, looked to Terrence and said in Chinese, “Roads? Access paths?”

  “Yes,” Terrence said. He looked at the others. “Emily says she has an idea for closing off some of the roads.”

  “By all means,” Ernst said, smiling at her as he took his pipe out of his mouth. “Any and all help is welcome.” Terrence saw Ernst motion to Adam, who folded the vest over itself, hiding the face.

  Emily bent down and picked up the large purse that she used to carry Michael’s toys. She placed it on the table, fished around in it for a minute, then, she pulled out a few of the toy tractor trailers and a front end loader that the twins had salvaged for him at the beginning of the whole undead apocalypse. These were followed by a piece of paper, and a box of crayons. She quickly sketched out the streets and warehouses around the center warehouse, a perfect sketch that brought a “Damn” of approval from Adam.

  After she finished the sketch Emily moved the toy tractor trailers onto the paper, using them to block off key roads. Next she wheeled the loader over, and used its bucket to knock the trailers onto their sides.

  “Holy shit,” Lee said.

  “That is fantas
tic,” Ernst said, stepping closer. “And that’ll work. We siphoned off enough diesel to run one of those rigs out in the rail yard, and probably a loader, too.”

  “We’d only have to worry about the noise,” Adam said.

  “The noise makers,” Lee said. “We could set them off a few hours before away from where we’ll be working. Post a few of us around the blocking points to make sure that none of the undead get in before we seal it.”

  “I’m going to get that radio up,” Terrence said. He smiled at Emily, saying, “That is a beautiful idea.”

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling broadly. “Thank you.”

  Corey

  “How long do you think? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes?” Brian asked him.

  Corey nodded. “Yeah, figure on fifteen.” He leaned closer to the screen. “We’re definitely going to need to make a dry run on this, make sure that we have all of the shit down. Too many of those fuckers keep drifting in and out.”

  The two brothers stood at the island, looking at the cameras that had been moved to focus on the rail yard.

  “I’m just worried about that fucker not starting,” Corey said, jabbing a finger at the rig already hooked up to an old moving trailer.

  “Well,” Brian sighed, “like you said, we need a dry run.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “We could put you on the .50,” Brian said, “mounted up on Lee’s humvee. I don’t think that we’re going to want to use Ma Deuce on those fucking undead pricks, but we do have to worry about the DEAD or whatever the fuck they are.”

  Corey nodded.

  “When we get there, I can start fueling up the rig, if it needs it, with you, Adam, and Ernst as a perimeter defense. Use the spears, keep the A4s in reserve.”

  “Once you get it started you’ll haul the first one into place?” Corey asked.

 

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