by Tony Urban
“What numbers did you enter?” Bolivar hit the keypad. Nothing happened.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t me anyway. That kid must have opened it from the inside.”
The inside? The zombies were within 15 yards now. One faster monster loped ahead of the pack. Bol stepped into the tunnel.
“What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!”
Bolivar searched for a way to close the door. He saw the key card slot. Where's the card? He searched the floor. Found it.
“Come on!” Aben jogged a few more steps away.
Bol grabbed the card off the floor and swiped it. The light stayed red. He tried again but his hands shook. No dice. One more time, he thought. Third time's the charm.
Be fore he could make a third attempt, he felt the hand grab his shirt. Before he could react, teeth ripped through the material and sunk into his shoulder. He stumbled forward with an audible grunt.
Aben turned, saw what had happened. He ripped a pistol from a holster on his belt and shot. The first bullet missed. He shot again. That one hit the zombie in the cheek. He dropped and Bolivar was free. Free, but dead on his feet. He saw Aben moving toward him and motioned him back as he took out his own pistol.
“No! I’m bit. Go!”
“Shit! Shit! Are you sure it got you?”
Bol reached back and came away with a palm wet with blood. He held it up for Aben to see. “Get the others out.”
“I will.”
Aben slid his gun across the floor to Bolivar who grabbed it. He held a pistol in each hand.
“Thanks. And Aben?
Aben looked to him. He could see more zombies nearing Bolivar’s back. They were only a few feet away. “What?”
“Get a damn haircut. You’re a disgrace.”
Bolivar gave a pained smile. Aben’s was weak, but he tried to return it. He raised his hand and gave a quick salute. Bolivar nodded, then turned to face his fate.
Between the two pistols, Bolivar had 24 rounds. He killed 14 zombies with the first 23 shots and by that time they were upon him. The tunnel was filled with them. Packed in like sardines, he thought. I always hated sardines.
The monsters surrounded him, clawing and scratching and biting. One of them grabbed hold of his ear and he felt the skin stretch, tear, then rip free from his head. Hot blood gushed from the wound.
Bolivar felt himself being ripped apart. The agony of hungry, undead mouths biting deep into his body. He heard the fabric of his shirt tear and felt the cool, stale air of the tunnel against his belly. That feeling was replaced by hot blood flowing as the zombies tore open his abdomen.
Their hands reached inside of him, pulling out his intestines, ripping away organs. He thought of the others. He felt the worst about Grady. He’d promised he’d watch out for him.
His vision went black and he knew the end was close. With the end came reanimation. He wanted that even less than death.
He managed to lift the pistol one more time, pressing the barrel under his chin. As he squeezed the trigger, he prayed the monsters took their time eating him and gave everyone else a chance.
47
When Mina awoke, her body was pressed against the cool glass of the ambulance’s windshield. She was contorted on its side, one foot tangled in the steering wheel. How did I get here? What happened?
She opened her eyes and everything was dark. It took a moment for them to adjust. When they did, she saw nothing to cure her confusion. Where was the road?
“You really did it now, Birdie. Got yourself in a big old bind,” her daddy’s voice said.
She craned her neck to look out the windshield and saw nothing but brown mud. Her nasal passages burned. Is that smoke?
Mina knew something terrible had happened. The details didn’t matter. Nothing mattered until she could find Bundy.
She freed her foot and rolled to face the opposite direction. She saw him there, suspended in his seat and held fast by his seatbelt. His head sagged and she thought he looked like an over-sized, lifeless doll.
No, that can’t be. He has to be alive.
“Killed another one, Birdie. Seems like every man around you ends up dead.” Shut up you old bastard! she thought as she crawled across the dashboard.
“Hey. Hey, handsome. Wake up. Come on.” Mina used her fingers to open an eye. She saw his pupil contract. She breathed a little easier. Then he coughed and his eyelids fluttered on his own. “That’s good. That’s real good.”
He came around slowly, but that was fine. He was alive.
“Are you okay?” He slurred his words.
“I’m just fine. Don’t you worry about me.” She grabbed his hand.
“What about Peggy?”
Shoot, she’d forgotten all about the other woman in the ambulance. “Typical Birdie, only care about yo’self.”
Mina peered into the rear of the ambulance which was a dark cave aside from two rectangles of white where sunlight came in from above. “Peggy?” No answer came. She found her tossed ass over head, her head twisted horribly askew.
“Damn it.”
“What? Is she-” Bundy asked from behind her.
“Her neck’s broke.”
A thud rocked the van. Mina spun around and saw Bundy had released himself from the belt and fallen against the dash. He groaned and rolled onto his back.
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of here before she turns.”
Mina searched the floor for a gun but everything had been upended in the crash.
Bundy pushed her into the back of the ambulance. “Go!”
It was eight feet to the rear door. Mina clawed her way along, but she was having little luck. She glanced back and saw Bundy emerging from between the front seats. “Get your butt back here and give me a push, big fella.”
“I’m coming, boss.”
She felt him behind her, the warmth of him against her back. He took her by the waist and raised her with as much ease as if he was lifting a pillow. Mina grabbed the door handle and threw it open. Sunlight flooded into the rear of the ambulance and she saw Wim peering down from above. Bundy lifted her higher and she climbed free.
“What did I hit?”
“Nothing,” Wim said. “The road’s washed out. How are Bundy and Peggy?”
Shoot, she kept forgetting about Peggy. “Peggy’s dead. Bundy’s on his way.”
She looked into the ambulance and saw Bundy attempting to pull himself the length of the box. He was red-faced and struggling.
“Are you gonna make it?”
Bundy was huffing, out of breath. “Aw, I’ll get there. Just takes me a little longer.”
Mina turned back to Wim. “Can you come down and help him, Wim?”
Wim nodded. “Sure thing. Ramey’s getting a rope.”
“Okay.”
“Wim’s coming. He’ll get you ou-” She lost her words when she saw Peggy coming back to life behind him. The woman tumbled onto her side, into a sitting position. Her head lolled sideways and her eyes set a target on Bundy.
Bundy couldn’t find his pistol. Couldn’t find any of the guns he’d gathered together the last few days. He needed to put Peggy down before she reanimated, but had no means of doing it without a firearm. A nagging reminder of Mead insisting guns were poor choices. Maybe the little bastard was right after all. Bundy had nothing, not a knife or a hammer or even a damn brick. His only hope was escaping the ambulance before Peggy woke up.
He attempted to climb out of the box but it took less than 30 seconds before he realized the pointlessness of that plan. He saw Mina looking down at him. The sunlight back lit her head and she seemed to glow. Like an Angel, if he believed in such things.
“Wim’s coming. He’ll get you ou-”
Bundy saw her eyes grow wide. He had a good idea what had caused it and he looked over his shoulder. Peggy had woken from her not so eternal slumber and she was on the move.
He kicked back with his foot, catching her in the
chest and tipping her over. She didn’t stay down long. In seconds she was back on her feet. He kicked out at her again, this time it was only a glancing blow. She caught his pant leg in her hands and pulled it toward her mouth.
She was inches away from sinking her teeth into his exposed calf. He could think of only one option. He let his body go limp and dropped down on her with all of his 500 pounds. Beneath him, Peggy's body broke and burst.
Above, Mina’s screams drowned out all other sounds.
He felt his head swimming, and he shook his noggin to clear it. He saw that Mina had dropped to her hands and knees, half her torso was extended into the box.
“Are you all right?”
Bundy looked around him. There was so much blood. “I’m not sure.”
“Did you get bit?”
“I don’t think so.” He maneuvered himself through the pile of gore from what had once been Peggy and tried to bend his leg to check for bite wounds. That action was interrupted by a lightning bolt of pain that stretched from his leg, all the way into the pit of his stomach. He looked down and saw a bone jutting from his shin. Blood gushed from the wound.
“Well, shit.”
“What? What is it?”
Bundy looked to her again. He saw Wim above her. Wim was looking at him too. He had a coil of rope in his hands.
“We’ll get you out of there, buddy. I’m gonna toss this down. Tie it around your waist.”
Bundy appreciated the offer, but his instincts told him this was game over.
48
Juli heard the footsteps before she saw who they belonged to. They sounded awkward. Step, drag, step, drag. It sounded like a zombie. Earlier Aben had given her a revolver. He even took her behind the hotel and set up empty cans for her to shoot at. She missed them all. “Good thing a zombie’s head is bigger than a soup can,” was all he said.
She took the gun from her pocket and examined it, trying to remember how to use it. She flicked off the safety. Then what? She pulled back the hammer. That's all there is too it, she thought. Aside from aiming, and that was the hard part. She stood at the ready as the source of the sound closed in.
What emerged wasn't a zombie. It was a teenage boy who ran with a limp. He appeared on the verge of collapse. Juli lowered the revolver.
Mitch waved her away. “Get out of here. Everyone in the bunker is dead. And they’re coming.”
Juli couldn’t believe her ears. “There’s really a bunker?”
Mitch nodded. “I’ve been trapped in there for days.”
More footsteps thundered against the tile. These were faster, and the boy glanced back, panicked. “Listen, lady. There’s thousands of the fuckers! Go!”
“Did you see anyone else? Two of my friends are somewhere in the basement.”
The teen didn’t answer. He moved past Juli who lingered. She couldn’t help herself, she had to see what was coming. She almost raised the gun again but Aben emerged.
“Aben! There was a boy! He said-”
“Zombies.” Aben was out of breath and struggled to expel words. “Got Bol.”
“What? No!”
“Got to get my dog. You get the dad.”
He grabbed her hand and dragged her along. Juli looked back one final time. The floor vibrated underfoot. She couldn’t see the zombies, but she could hear them coming. Like a stampede of wild horses in the distance.
By the time Aben and Juli had gathered Grady and the dog and made it outside, the horde of zombies was close enough to smell. The kid, who had said his name was Mitch, hung around them at the periphery and Aben noticed he’d helped himself to a pistol and a rifle.
“You know how to use that?”
Mitch looked from the rifle to Aben’s face. “I’ve watched enough movies to figure it out.”
With his remaining hand, Aben pointed to the bolt. “Fires better when the bolt’s closed.”
“Bolt?”
Aben reached over, grabbed the bolt and closed it.
“Thanks.”
“Thank me by not shooting one of us.”
He thought the little prick sneered, but he had better things to worry about. Aben whistled for the dog and it sprinted ahead of them and jumped into the back seat. Juli moved toward the passenger side.
“No!”
She looked up, startled.
“You drive.”
“Me?”
He held up his stump. Might as well get some use out of the damned thing. She nodded and got behind the wheel.
Aben saw Mitch staring toward the Greenbrier. He had an idea why, but looked anyway. Yep, that’s what I expected. The zombies were coming.
The creatures teemed out of the front entrances and into the courtyard. They spilled into the grass and gardens, smashing the sea of red tulips underfoot.
Aben fell into the passenger seat. Juli already had the engine running. “Hit it,” he said.
She did. She made a hard and fast u-turn that threw them back and forth in their seats. The car skidded into the grass for a moment, took out another swath of tulips, then she pulled it back onto the drive and pressed the pedal to the floor. The tires gave a short squeal as they fought for traction and then the Cruze leapt forward. Aben leaned out the window and watched the hotel and the horde of zombies shrink in the distance. When they exited the resort property and hit the main street, Juli looked to him.
“Where are we going?”
It was a reasonable question. One for which he had nothing resembling an answer. “Damned if I know.”
“Start with right or left.”
He looked both ways. “Which direction did we come in from?”
“Left.”
“Then turn right.”
She did.
49
After Ramey handed the rope off to Wim, she saw the zombies moving in the washed out pit. It was more than she’d ever seen in one place at one time and, to her, it looked like they were swarming. They moved toward the ambulance, but blocking their way was a jumble of trees that was packed in tight and rose to the top of the crevasse. When the zombies reached it, the first row became entangled in the debris, but the others kept coming. They climbed atop their fallen, undead brethren and worked their way upward, out of the hole, nearing the destroyed highway.
"Wim."
Wim was busy looking into the ambulance. He had dropped the rope downward where Mina fed it through the open door.
“Wim.”
The first zombies escaped the pit. Only four, but more were coming. They clawed their way to freedom and moved toward the survivors.
“Wim! They’re out!”
Wim looked over, his face confused but that confusion gave way to dread when he saw what Ramey was shouting about.
“Good, God almighty.”
Ramey pulled her pistol and shot. The lead zombie fell. She shot again and missed completely. If they made it through this, she promised herself she wasn’t going to stop practicing until she could kill these bastards every time she fired. But for now, she had to make do. A third round took out a second zombie. More than a dozen had escaped. They were less than 30 yards away.
Wim looked down. “Bundy, hold tight. We have a situation at the moment.” He reached toward Mina. “Give me your hand.”
“No.” She shook her head back and forth. “No. You get him out, Wim.”
“You first and stop arguing. There’s a couple hundred zombies headed this way and we gotta hurry.”
“I said no!”
Ramey heard the rage in the woman’s voice but she was too busy shooting to give it much thought. Emory had joined her. He fired away with a revolver, but he was a much worse shot than any of them and was of little help. What a sad bunch of marksmen we are, she thought.
Bundy heard the shooting and the subsequent panic in Wim’s voice. Wim wasn't the type to panic unless the situation truly called for it and that made up his mind.
“Wilhelmina,” he said, and she looked at him, her eyes overflowing with tears. “
Take his hand and go.”
“I’m not doing that. I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to. And do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I love you. And if I know you’re gonna live, it’s gonna be easier for me to die.”
She wiped away snot which ran from her nose. The waterworks were on full blast now. “You’re not going to die!”
“I am. I got a busted leg and I don’t think you and Wim and Ramey and Emory combined could haul my fat ass outta here. Besides, it sounds like the gunfight at the OK Corral up there and they’ve all got better things to do than waste time on me.”
“Just stop it! Stop saying that.”
After he did a full body drop on Peggy, Bundy had discovered a box he’d packed into the ambulance the day after they found the warehouse. It was something he and Mina had come across and hidden from Mead.
“Do you remember why you said you liked me more than Mead?”
“What? No.”
“Come on, think about it.”
“I don’t remember. And why’s that matter now anyway?”
“You said it was because you could outrun me. Well, baby, it’s time to run.” Bundy smiled, then looked past her to Wim. “Wim, get her out of here.”
Wim leaned over the edge of the broken road. He had to stretch as far as possible to get anywhere near her. “Come on, Mina. Listen to him.”
“Do it, Mina. Go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“No, I imagine you don’t. But we’ve both got to do something we don’t want to do right now.”
He opened the box and pulled out a stick of dynamite. Then he fished a lighter from his pocket.
“Say, how many zombies are out there, Wim?”
“A couple hundred.”
Bundy let loose a low whistle. “A while back, Mead and I had a contest to see who could kill the most of those bastards. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna whoop his ass.”
He felt Mina’s tears fall onto his upturned face. He let them run into his mouth, enjoying his salty, final taste of her.
“I love you.” Her words came out in retching sobs.