Zombie Rush 2

by Hansen, Joseph

  “Damn,” Lisa said, trying to control her emotions and feeling the throb from the rebar come back to her head. She put her hand to her forehead and looked at Skit, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. “I sure am glad that you hit like a girl.”

  She pushed out before making a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. The tears started to well in her eyes as she looked at Skit who was suddenly her only friend in the world.

  “I didn’t even know that I liked dogs until yesterday.” Her hands shook as she tried to control her emotions. She loved him. She just met him but she loved him, and now he was gone. “No, don’t touch me or it will get worse. I can save it until we get to my apartment.”

  “Your apartment?”

  “Yeah, water and power is still on, so hopefully we can get a shower in. I got some clothes you can wear; being gay, you’ll be comfortable in them,” she chided, trying to wriggle confirmation.

  “Who said I was gay? You got some twisted fantasies, girl.” Skit slowed and put two fingers on the inside of her elbow, slowing her as he indicated what he saw up ahead.

  “Looters. Yeah, I don’t get people. Something like this going on and they’re worried about crap they can’t eat,” Lisa said about a group of thugs a couple of blocks away. “There’s nothing the two of us can do about it now. We’ll just have to let the compound take care of them when they start clearing buildings this afternoon.”

  “I’m not concerned with what they are stealing; it’s what they represent that has me worried. Look at their flag.”

  “Stars and bars. I see them all over down here, so what?”

  “Look again. That circle in the center has been added, and it ain’t good,” Skit said as he drew farther into the alley.

  Lisa looked closer and saw the warped swastika built within the design of the centered circle. Fuck! The last thing we need is fucking racists.

  “Come on, Skit. We don’t hide from people like that,” Lisa said, and walked to the center of the intersection, still a block away from the group of looters. She looked for a reason to go and confront them that went beyond the acquisition of items but didn’t see anything. The holder of their flag stepped out and made it evident that she had been seen. She put the M4 up to her eye just to see how brave boy wonder really was. As suspected, he tucked in behind a car and Lisa lowered her rifle before she and Skit moved off into the direction they needed to go, leaving the looters behind.

  “Why the fuck did you do that?” Skit asked.

  “It’s good to let them know that they are being watched, Skit. Cowards and asshole should always have to look over their shoulder.”

  ***

  A drape fell back into place as if it had been stirred by a simple, small breeze. He too had been watching the looters. He had no problems with them being racists—or assholes of any sort, for that matter. He was above that. He liked tough guys. Tough guys, when they broke, offered the most pleasure. The satisfaction of seeing a man who could crush him weeping helplessly at his feet was enough stimulate his needs beyond capacity. Much pleasure and much joy in seeing them beg, but now there was a woman who dared to face them, as if in challenge. It must be her. What luck. Fate had smiled; oh, what pure joy. She was special; he could see it.

  She deserves a gift, he thought as he looked once again at the redneck holding the flag. He would find something special for the woman who was going to add so much to his life.

  ***

  Charlie watched as his old man secured a house after almost being swarmed back at the truck yard. There were so many characteristics that he expected from the man, but there were also some that surprised him. His dad had always walked around with the world-is-full-of-pussies attitude, to the point where Charlie felt there was no compassion in his dad at all.

  He was surprised when they found the old lady in the house and his father became as gentle as anyone could be while he lifted her into her wheelchair from the closet where she had hidden. The woman cried when she saw what the zombies had done to her home. When she realized that her husband was nowhere to be found and what that meant, she was overwhelmed with grief.

  Charlie could tell there were those with them that felt the woman should be left behind, abandoned to the world they now lived in, but Solomon wouldn’t have it.

  “You go; I’ll either catch up with you or … not,” his dad had said.

  “I’ll stay with you, Dean.” Kodiak, who they had rescued from the club, stepped forward. Charlie heard a few others step up and say the same, but he didn’t pay attention. Once Kodiak stepped up, Charlie—being a young pubescent male and Kodiak being a perfectly shaped professional dancer—was helpless to whatever she wanted.

  “Can you get me my medicines out of the cupboard there?” the old woman asked while pointing toward a kitchen cabinet next to the sink.

  Lester headed over to the cabinet and opened it, finding a large supply of varied drugs.

  “Take the antibiotics and the oxycodone; I won’t be needing those. Hand me the Fentanyl and Ambien.”

  “You’re not going to mix those are you?” Lester asked, concerned.

  “Oh young man, one is for pain and the other to calm my nerves a bit. They should never even come in contact with each other,” the woman said as she placed a Fentanyl patch on her upper arm. “Could one of you ladies wheel me into my room? I would like to change.”

  “Sure, I can help you with that,” offered Sue, a woman they had rescued from the Econo Lodge the day before after a run-in with a giant horde at the Walmart.

  Charlie’s dad surprised him. When he was handed the over/under twelve gauge, he thought that it would only be a couple of hours until his old man was dead because Charlie hated him that much. At one point, he even had him lined up in his sights, but then zombies came and destroyed the opportunity. Since that time, Charlie started to see things in his old man that were very Charlie-like, so he decided to simply watch for a while and see what came up.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” the woman asked of the one pushing her chair.

  “Sue, and yours?”

  “Lillian. Would you grab me that dress on the left-hand side of the closet, please?”

  “Sure; the black one?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. Probably not zombie appropriate, but if we are in our last days then I want to at least look my best.”

  “I get that, Lillian. We are kind of on the run, though, so you might want to be a little more practical,” Sue said as she pulled the dress out of the closet.

  “Oh, honey, my running days are long gone,” Lillian said lightheartedly at first, but then a bitter tone came to her voice. “My children have become zombies, as have their children. They devoured my husband while I listened to it from the closet where he stuck me. I told him not to open the door. But it’s Donny! he said, as if he couldn’t help himself.”

  “I know … it’s been rough for all of us, Lillian, but it’s up to us to survive and keep humanity on the map. Or at least that’s what Dean says.” Sue didn’t know if she quite believed it herself but would follow along until a better plan came to her.

  “I emptied the bottle of Ambien, Sue. I already feel its effects. I remember this town so many years ago, when it was young. The cars were big and boxy and people used to dress up to go meet at the bowling alley or the fair. Going out was something special then and you took effort to look your best,” Lillian said, as if she never even mentioned that she just took a handful of pills that would kill her.

  “I’ll be right back, Lillian,” Sue said, not sure what she should do about it.

  “That’s all right, Martha; take your time. Donny will be home soon to take care of the younger ones, and Steven and I will be leaving for the game. You’re welcome to ride with us. The Bellaire has a large back seat.”

  “Ah, okay. Just wait here.”

  “Of course, I’ll just put on my jewelry while you talk to Stan.”

  Sue walked out to the other room, right to Dean, who was talking
to Kodiak and Charlie.

  “Dean, this chick has gone batty.”

  “What do you mean, Sue? She’s a sweet old lady,” Kodiak replied.

  “No, she swallowed a fistful of Ambien and is starting to hallucinate. She called me Martha and you Stan, and she is putting on jewelry so we can all pile into the Bellaire and head off to the game together.”

  Dean listened but then paused for a second, even reaching out and grabbing Kodiak’s arm to stop her from going into the bedroom.

  “What are you doing? That woman needs help,” Kodiak exclaimed.

  “No, she doesn’t. Let her go on her own terms, Kodi. She has a good memory playing out. Let’s go with it. Just follow my lead,” Dean said before heading back into the bedroom with Sue.

  “Martha, who is this man?” Lillian asked as she stuck Fentanyl patches around her collarbone, like beads of a necklace. She had two pinched on to her earlobes as though they were the finest of jewelry.

  “This is Dean. He is a friend of Stan, and this is his wife, Kodi.” Sue didn’t know anything about medicine, but she did know when someone was high, and Lillian was flying.

  “Pleasure meeting you, Lillian. I sure hope those Panthers win tonight,” Dean said.

  “Oh dear, they haven’t won against a Little Rock school for years, so don’t get your hopes up. That might change when those bussing rules come into effect and we get some of those Negros shipped in,” Lillian said, making the others cringe in hopes that several of their companions didn’t get offended by the woman’s historical thought process. Charlie even leaned back and looked out the door, but they were all too busy collecting supplies to hear anything.

  Dean figured she was talking about a game they went to way back in the sixties. He grabbed her wrist for a pulse and felt something ever so slight. Her breathing was also slowing as the multiple Fentanyl patches leeched into her skin. She sat back in her wheelchair, looked at the group surrounding her, and flashed a bright but reserved smile.

  “I don’t think that I will be going to the game tonight, friends.” She then stared at the mirror without taking a breath. Thirty seconds later, she breathed twice more and looked at Sue. “Live, Sue. Restore humanity.”

  Her voice was barely a whisper, her final thoughts based in reality along with all of the horrors that it entailed. Her fingers stiffened and her eyes glazed over as her jaw clenched tight. A minute later, she took her last breath and Sue cried. She didn’t know why she cried; she didn’t know Lillian, but she cried regardless. Maybe it was the culmination of what could have been a perfect life ending on such bloody terms. Or it could have been the loss of her own family at the Econo Lodge finally coming through. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She just needed to let loose and weep.

  Chapter Six

  Dreads

  “So, I think we should keep to the wooded areas as much as we can,” Lisa said.

  “You are nuts, aren’t you? We need to see these things from a distance. I say streets, alleys, and walkways. We have a long way to go on foot, and I don’t want to get cornered in some trees,” Skit replied after they had made it a few blocks away from the compound.

  “All right.”

  “All right? That’s it? All right?” Skit stepped past her and started following the straightest path, keeping to the sides and looking before he crossed an intersection or alley. They tucked into shadows or buildings as small groups or single zombies strolled past.

  It wasn’t until they were a mile out and over halfway to their destination that they started to see the first signs of activity. The next street east was lit up, working as a beacon within the darkened city. The sound of several large diesel engines filled the air.

  “What’s going on over there?” Skit asked, wondering if there were other factions at work in his town.

  “We’re drawing them in to certain areas in the city where we can block them up and crush them at our leisure.” Lisa tried to lighten the morbidity of it all—giant machines rolling piles of human bodies over and over, creating mountains of flesh.

  An enclosed-cab, newer-model bulldozer spun around to scrutinize the two. If they would have just stood in place, the operator would have done something with his lights to draw them in, but Lisa waved so the driver knew that they weren’t zombies and he turned back to his work.

  The street where the operator worked glistened, wet from blood and crushed bowels and bladder with scattered pieces of body and brain lying here and there as a testament to the carnage required to take back the city. These were the survivors’ friends, neighbors, and coworkers being crushed and killed. The psychological impact was bound to be overwhelming in time, but right now, people operated out of shock and need.

  If they were successful, they would be living in a world where every living soul would suffer extreme PTSD. The vision of a world like that shook Lisa to her core, but what choice did they have? Would the world be destroyed by the zombie plague or would it die from the calloused souls who inherit it? Lisa didn’t know or care; she just knew it sucked.

  Lisa found herself thinking of the dead as nothing but cordwood or diseased animals. She no longer looked at them as if they were human, or anything that remotely resembled human. They were the turkeys being composted after an H1N1 virus swept through the barn. They were the cattle herd stricken with a plague, and must be destroyed or the healthy will also become ill. A harsh reality, but reality nonetheless and it was their reality.

  “I feel like something is following us.”

  Skit’s voice snapped Lisa out of her dark thoughts. “I know; I’ve felt it since we broke away from the wall at the compound. Zombies don’t track people like that. It would be too much of a coincidence to be the good doctor since he is unaware of our intent as of yet.”

  “So who is it?”

  “I don’t know; maybe Benson or Krupp sent someone out to watch over us?” Lisa replied, knowing that both men had a protective streak. She doubted it was Cat—she had been given a lot of responsibilities inside the compound. Maybe it was one of the National Guard troopers or a reservist who had shown up?

  “I bet it is that cop, Ernie,” Skit said.

  “Ernie? Who are you trying to kid? That little shit wouldn’t have the balls to follow us out here. Besides, Krupp has kind of taken Ernie under his wing. Seems he knew Ernie’s family.”

  “I don’t know; he was pretty upset at the way you humiliated him back there in the AT&T store.” Skit hoped Lisa wouldn’t just blow off the kid; in Skit’s mind, that could be dangerous.

  “I know. I was pretty hard on the kid, but he grates on me. I have also seen and heard several things that make me believe that he’ll be trouble, so I wanted to nip it in the bud right there. That boy has some growing up to do before he can be trusted. I think he actually likes what’s happening.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean, nobody could like this.”

  “I would like to say that I am kidding, but I just don’t know… Keep your eyes peeled on our back trail,” Lisa cautioned.

  “Back trail, what is that? Some kind of cop talk? What’s wrong with saying behind us?”

  “Shut up, Skit, and pay attention. Besides, cop talk would be ‘watch our six’.”

  “Watch our six? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Shut up, Skit, all right? Just shut up.”

  ***

  The radio station had been secured by three National Guardsmen who had heard the earlier broadcast. One of them was a radio junkie, so the three of them decided to set up camp and help out until something else came up. This wasn’t the first group of Guard troops to show up, but none of them seemed to have anyone at the helm. It was just small or partial squads here and there showing up and pitching in. Not being Regular Army, it was only fitting that they fell into the role of protecting the only thing they knew: their city.

  Ralph was the radio junkie and held a tech position with the public radio station in the city, and the other two just tagged along. One wa
s a loan officer at one of the banks, and the other worked the ticket counter at the local Greyhound station. Either way, Lisa felt more comfortable having some fire support at the station.

  They walked into the building, which now had blackened windows and dimmed lights in order to not draw attention. The stifled rumble of generators and the soft hum of electronic equipment filled the building as they made their way toward the stairs and up to Tasha in the broadcast room.

  “Well, you look rested,” Lisa said to the woman. She had expected her to have bags under her eyes from being up all night, broadcasting.

  “Yes, I am. I looped some info feeds and music to get a couple hours of sleep, and then Ralph showed up and he has been taking some spots. Thanks for sending over food.”

  “Hey, we gotta eat it up before it goes bad,” Lisa said, having no idea that someone had the foresight to send over some supplies. “So what do you want me to talk about today?”

  “I was thinking about that. Originally, I wanted to do some inspirational things, but that starts to wear on people and might make things worse. So what if we treat things more as a progress report and ideas for what we want to accomplish in the future?” Tasha suggested.

  “I have a lot of info there for ya, but we have to spend a little time remembering those we have lost.”

  “I agree. At twelve and six, we ring a bell three times for a moment of silence just for that specific purpose. We can’t forget the loss we have suffered today.”

  Lisa was thrown off; she expected Tasha to say ‘sacrificed’ instead of loss because that was the buzz word going around, There was no sacrifice; sacrifice meant to give up of oneself for a higher goal. This was just loss, and every sacrifice brought them closer to annihilation. This was nothing but loss. Senseless, valueless loss. No sacrifice for a loftier goal, as Harold had done for his family.

  Lisa got an idea and once again that scummy political feeling dropped in. She couldn’t help it; people had to come together or there would be nothing but bad until humanity finally faded away, leaving the dead to rule the world. If a little persuasion, or maybe even manipulation, could do that then she would give it a try. It was harder for her, being an atheist, because she couldn’t pull that “God card” out and play it. That would be too much of a lie to play through. She went into the broadcast booth and took her seat as Alabama Shakes was cuing down on the broadcast.