The Creeping Dead: Book 2

by Edward P. Cardillo

  Lenny jumped in front and stalked over to the stairs, this time Tara and Tyrell in tow. Fortunately, none of the dead in the parking lot had noticed them.

  Lenny rounded the corner when a pair of bloodied hands reached out for him and grabbed him by the neck. The zombie let out a screech and, eyes wide, snapped its jaws at him.

  Tara and Tyrell both screamed as Lenny stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. The zombie, a middle-aged woman in a tattered, gore-stained sundress, landed on top of him, craning her neck to reach his face. Her teeth snapped millimeters from the tip of his nose as he cried out.

  Tara shoved Tyrell up against the wall and lunged forward, swing her pipe at the zombie’s head. It hit, and there was a dull thud of impact as the reverberations shook Tara’s wrists, but the zombie kept snapping its teeth at Lenny.

  Tara swung two more times, the third strike causing the zombie to go inert. Lenny pushed it off of him, grimacing in disgust as it lay next to him twitching.

  “Mom!”

  Tara turned around to find another zombie, a small boy, reaching out for her son. Tyrell was shoving it away with the bristled end of his broom as it swiped jagged fingernails at him.

  Tara, ever the tiger mom, sprang at the child in all of her maternal fury, shoving it off of her son with her hand. It staggered backwards but maintained its footing. It let out a high-pitched howl, narrowed its wild eyes, and ran forward, hands outstretched as it chomped down on its own tongue in bloodlust.

  Tara swung at it, connecting with its jaw, sending it into the wall of the building. It righted itself, undeterred and jaw dislocated, and lurched at Tara again. This time, she brought her metal pipe straight down on top of its head. Its small skull crunched under her strike, and the zombie boy fell to the ground, still.

  She wheeled around, but neither Tyrell nor Lenny were there. Panicked and fearing the worst, Tara searched the parking lot. “Tyrell!”

  A zombie woman shrieked back at her in response and started making a Bee Line for her through the melee.

  “Mommy! Up here!”

  Tara turned around and saw that Lenny and Tyrell were at the top of the stairs. A wave of relief washed over her but was quickly replaced with urgency. She dashed towards the staircase to the second floor of the back building as the woman zombie was closing the distance.

  Tara took two stairs at a time, looking through the open slats of the staircase, as she saw a car popping the curb and hurtling towards the stairs. She reached out, and Lenny grabbed both of her hands as the car took out both the staircase beneath her feet and the zombie woman in one fell swoop. Lenny pulled her up and onto the second floor.

  As Tara lay there, catching her breath, Tyrell looked down at her. “Are you okay, Mom?” He was standing next to Lenny’s Dracula sword.

  She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m okay, honey.”

  Lenny helped her to her feet. She hugged him, catching him off guard. He smiled and hugged her back, closing his eyes.

  “Thank you, Lenny.”

  He opened his eyes. “I will protect you. The both of you.”

  They broke the embrace. All three of them looked down at the broken staircase and then over the railing on the other side.

  Someone popped his head out of his room a few doors down. “Get out of here! You’ll draw them here!”

  Tara turned, as she controlled her flash of anger, and she mustered some of that clinical calm. She shook her head. “A car took out the staircase.”

  “Yeah? What about the other side?” asked the man.

  Shit. She turned to Tyrell and Lenny. “He’s right. We have to destroy the other staircase.”

  “How?” asked Tyrell.

  Tara looked determined. “The same way. Lenny, take Tyrell to your hiding place. I’m going to drive a car into the other one.”

  “H-h-how will you get back up?” asked Lenny.

  Tara thought for a minute. “Lenny, grab me a sheet. When I crash a car into the stairs, you need to lower the sheet like a rope and pull me back up.”

  Tyrell grabbed his mother. “No, Mommy. Don’t go.”

  “I have to, sweetie, or they’ll get up here and we’re all dead.”

  “You’re crazy, lady!” shouted the man poking his head out, and he pulled it back inside his room, slamming the door closed.

  Lenny nodded. He knocked on the door closest to them. When there was no answer, he produced his skeleton key and opened it. They entered the room, and Tara pulled a sheet off the nearest bed. She handed it to Lenny. “Here. Lower this. I’ll grab it, and you’ll pull me up.”

  Lenny nodded, dubious about his strength to accomplish this important task. He weighed about as much as Tara. He’d have to put his back into it.

  Billy appeared next to him in superhero sidekick uniform. “You can do it, Lava Man!”

  Tara, not able to see Lenny’s imaginary friend, turned to Tyrell. “I’m going to lock you in here. Don’t come out for anyone.”

  “No, Mommy, don’t!”

  “I’m going to knock when I come back.” She brushed the vertical blinds aside with a swipe of her right hand. “You peek out to make sure it’s me, and only me. Then you open the door.”

  “Don’t go, Mommy, please. Please!”

  Tara knelt down and looked him in the eye. “I don’t have time to argue. When I knock, you check to make sure it’s me.”

  Tyrell nodded, but his eyes pleaded with her not to go.

  Tara pulled Lenny outside of the room. She reached inside, turned the lock on the doorknob, and pulled the door shut, testing the door knob. It was locked.

  Lenny looked past Tara and saw that two zombies had made it up the second staircase. He pointed at them. “Look!”

  Tara turned and saw them as gunfire erupted below. The police were engaging the dead, but they were being overrun. “Stay close, Lenny!”

  She hefted the pipe as the two walking corpses saw her and cried out in savage hunger.

  She shook her head. “No good.” She turned to Lenny. “Give me the Dracula sword. Hurry!”

  Lenny held it out, and Tara snatched it from him, shoving her pipe into his hands. The two zombies were almost on her, but the common balcony was only wide enough for one of them, so they came at her in single file.

  She hefted the sword, its weight emboldening her. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  She ran forward, pushing the long blade in front of her, its point finding purchase in the first zombie’s chest. She shoved hard. The tip being dull, it only sank in about an inch. She pushed forward with all of her might, putting her back into it, and the first zombie fell backwards, taking the one behind it down with it.

  Tara wasted no time. She stood over the first—a bald, older man—placing her foot on its neck as it glared up at her. It tried to screech, but Tara was crushing its windpipe. She brought the pointy end of the sword down into its mouth hard and twisted the wide blade, dislocating its jaw.

  The second zombie, a teenage girl with blonde hair matted in blood, reached up for her with wild hands. She allowed it to grab her ankle. As it tried to pull itself up, it opened its mouth for a blood-curdling screech. However, Tara jammed the sword into its mouth and twisted, cutting its blood-thirsty battle cry short and dislocating its jaw like she did with the first zombie.

  Tara stepped over it, shaking her right leg free of its grip as its jaw hung off to the side, unable to clamp down. “It’s okay, Lenny. They can’t bite you now. Follow me!”

  Lenny stuttered, unable to voice his doubt about the neutralized threat and his reluctance to step over the two zombies, but Tara had already taken off and was down the other staircase.

  He looked down at the dead with their dislocated jaws, scrambling around on the floor to regain their footing. They were more of a threat on their feet, so Lenny summoned his courage, seeing himself in his Lava Man costume in the reflection on the large window to his right. He puffed up his chest and decided to make a go of it.

  He gingerly began to step ov
er the first zombie. It reached out and grabbed his legs. Lenny whimpered as it mouthed his ankles, but it was unable to bite down. He kicked his leg free and began to negotiate the second zombie, which also grabbed him and attempted to bite down but was unable.

  Lenny shook his legs free, one at a time, as he climbed over the heap, wincing at the wetness on his ankles as they salivated all over him. Just when he thought he was free, he made to dash down the lane when the second zombie grabbed his ankle, causing him to fall flat on his face. Tara’s metal pipe clanged on the ground just in front of him.

  He felt the two zombies crawling up his legs, pulling themselves over his prone body, gurgling and growling, dragging their limp jaws over his pant legs. He heard gagging and retching sounds. Lenny cried out as he felt wetness land on the backs of his thighs and then his back. He pushed himself off the ground with both hands as blood and bile pooled under him.

  The rabid dead clung to him like barnacles as he began to crawl, a now stained sheet clutched in his right hand, dragging behind him and dripping with blood. Tears streamed down his face with terror, exertion, and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness as the dead clung on.

  Lenny heard gun shots on the street below, screams of terror, and the shrieks of the dead as he commando crawled, succumbing to the weight of his unwanted passengers. Suddenly, the weight became inexplicably lighter, and he was able to push himself to his knees and then his feet.

  As he looked over his shoulder, he saw two men dragging the two creatures away from him by their ankles. One of his saviors was that man who popped his head out his room and yelled at Tara.

  He wanted to thank the men, who worked together in hoisting the monsters up and tossing them over the railing to the street below. However, he was interrupted by a crash coming from the staircase on the other side. The impact jarred the whole building. A car horn blared, as if someone was leaning on it.

  Lenny shambled over to the other end of the second floor as the car horn stopped, and he looked down at the ruined staircase. Tara stumbled out of the car, its front end smashed, clutching her forehead. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were covered in blood.

  She looked up at Lenny. “Lower the sheet!”

  Lenny looked down at the blood and bile-stained sheet in his hands and snapped out of it. Holding the dry end in his hands (he didn’t want to touch the pungent fluids), he lowered the other towards Tara.

  “Tie it to the railing!” she directed from below as she looked around nervously. The car she commandeered blocked her off from the street, but her back was vulnerable to the parking lot.

  Lenny tied his end of the sheet to the railing at the top of the demolished staircase. The sheet wasn’t long enough to reach down to Tara, so she climbed onto the trunk of the car and stood on the roof.

  The two men who tossed the zombies over the railing ran over to Lenny.

  “What the hell are you doing?” asked the impatient one who yelled at Tara.

  “He’s trying to help her!” said the other, pointing down to Tara. “She took out the stairs!”

  Tara grabbed her end of the sheet, tied it into a knot, and grabbed the knot. “Pull me up!”

  Both men grabbed the sheet and began to pull. However, a few of the dead were now piling on top of the trunk of Tara’s car, and one grabbed her ankle.

  She felt her grip slide in all of the slimy muck on the sheet, and Lenny and the two men above almost lost their grip. Lenny, having been pulled forward, almost fell off the edge and right on top of Tara.

  The impatient man shoved Lenny aside to safety, and both men began to pull. Lenny looked down as another zombie grabbed her other ankle, eager to enter into this game of tug of war, the prize being a hot lunch.

  Tara screamed as her fingers clung to the knot she made, her legs dangling. She kicked and swung her feet every which way as the dead grabbing her began to lose their grip on her ankles.

  All she could do was think of Tyrell, hiding in his room. She needed to be there to protect him. Failure was not an option.

  She looked down as she saw one of the zombie’s fingernails peel away, and it lost its grip. It fell sideways into the other one, causing it to lose its grip, and Tara was finally free.

  Lenny looked on, his hands over his mouth in horror, as the two men hoisted her up. He was ashamed that he wasn’t able to do what she instructed and help. “I’m s-s-so s-s-s-sorry,” he repeated over and over.

  Tara got to her feet, dusting herself off. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lenny, you did just fine.”

  This made him feel a bit better, and Tara thanked the other two men who saved her life.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you before,” said the impatient man, now looking sheepish.

  Tara smiled. “You saved my life, so now we’re even.” Then, as if suddenly remembering, “Tyrell!”

  She pushed through Lenny and the other two men and dashed down to Tyrell’s room. Lenny followed right behind her. She knocked three times on the door, and Tyrell’s face appeared in the window. He looked relieved, until he saw the gash on her head.

  He opened the door and hugged her hard, nearly causing her to lose her balance. “You came back!” he cried into her shirt, his tears wet and hot.

  “You sound surprised,” she quipped, smiling at him when he finally released her.

  “I helped,” added Lenny, who was standing in the doorway.

  “You’re hurt,” Tyrell said, his relief turning to concern.

  Tara walked over to the sink area and grabbed a clean towel, dabbing her gash and then applying pressure. “I’ll be all right. I think we all will for the time being.”

  They returned outside, and more guests of the second floor had come out of their rooms to survey the situation. The two men who helped Tara were now standing with their wives and children as they explained to everyone how Tara had taken out both staircases.

  Tara received looks of gratitude, and Lenny stood there with Tyrell, feeling ineffective and powerless. However, as time passed, the survivors on the second and third floors needed water. As bathrooms were used, toilets were clogged and people ran out of toilet paper.

  While lacking in physical prowess and quick thinking in a crisis, Lenny found himself doing what he did best. Lenny did his job. He went into the supply closets, which were the hiding places he had referred to down in his room, and got extra plastic disposable cups out for the guests so that they could have water from the tap. He shared his secret stash of bags of chips and cookies with the children, staving off hunger for a while. He walked around with a plunger, unclogging toilets. As hours passed, he even made beds and brought fresh towels, anything to make the guests more comfortable as long as supplies lasted.

  When the National Guard retook the town and found the camp of survivors on the second and third floors, the guests had related what Tara did to keep them safe. Additionally, and to Lenny’s surprise, they spoke of how he kept them comfortable and took good care of them.

  Lenny was a hero after all.

  *

  As Lenny slipped out of his private reverie, he felt heartened. Dr. Tara always told him that he had to focus on the positives about what happened that summer. He had to focus on how everyone pulled together and helped each other. Lenny understood this. The townspeople’s goodness trumped the horror of the dead, and the town rebuilt.

  His hotel continued to operate, and he still had a job. Dr. Tara said his mother would’ve been proud of him. Lenny smiled to himself and tackled the rest of the morning chores in earnest.

  Chapter 3

  Marie Russo smiled at Tyrell as he was folding T-shirts. “Your mom taught you well.”

  Tyrell pulled down the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, well, it’s just me and Mom now, so I have to pitch in.”

  “Have you asked your mom about coming to the gun range yet?”

  Tyrell paused for a moment, knowing the sermon that was to come. He continued folding again. It was the same sermon he got almost ever
y day he worked at Ms. Russo’s store. “Not yet.”

  Marie regarded him with sympathy and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm, and her eyes intent. “I know she’s not a big fan of guns, even after the attack two years ago.”

  Tyrell met her gaze. “Nothing’s going to change her mind.”

  “She should learn how to defend herself, and you.”

  “My mom doesn’t like guns. It’s against her philosophy.”

  Against her philosophy? Spoken like the son of a head shrink. Marie felt her indignation well up in her chest. She didn’t understand that mentality, particularly after what happened. Tara lost her husband to the dead. She almost lost her son.

  She took a deep breath and let it out, reminding herself that she wasn’t talking to Tara. She was talking to her son, and it wasn’t his fault.

  Tyrell sensed her exasperation and became totally absorbed in his task, avoiding eye contact.

  Marie winked at him and smiled. “I’ll talk to your mom when she picks you up later.”

  “She’ll get mad at me,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. His skin felt hot, and it wasn’t entirely from the temperature. “She won’t want me to come here anymore.”

  Marie smiled, and her grip on Tyrell’s shoulder softened. “Nonsense. There’s nowhere else for you to go. Plus, you do such an amazing job here.”

  Tyrell smiled at that, but in the back of his mind various scenarios where Marie broached the topic of going to the gun range played out, each iteration ending in his mother being pissed off.

  He was in a difficult position. He, of course, sided with his mother. After all, she was his mom. But, he respected Marie. She was tough and strong. So was his mom, but in a different kind of way.

  Marie decided to let it drop, and she disappeared into the back room. Salvatore came over and helped Tyrell with the folding. “She’s right, you know. It can’t hurt to know how to defend yourself.”

  Alessandra shot him a reproachful look. “Mom is being too pushy. It’s none of her business.”