Dead World: Hero

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Dead World: Hero Page 21

by D. N. Harding


  Faced with so many creatures, Jack would have normally turned away rejecting any idea that they should travel this way. However, the mall itself provided something that up until now had not been available. The roof of the mall would be very safe and the interior of the mall would provide nearly everything else they needed to survive. It would be like living on an island surrounded by man-eating sharks with a basement full of supplies. The problem was getting past the man-eaters.

  Below the edge of the culvert, the ground dropped away dozens of feet into a ditch that was designed to move the water away from the parking lot. A six-foot fence separated the ditch from the parking lot.

  “Any ideas?” Jack offered.

  “For what? There’s no way we’re going in there,” Steven said looking up at Jack. “It would be worse than suicide.”

  “Look,” Jack pointed at the roof of the mall. “There’s probably more than ten acres of space up there. That’s more than enough room and we can pilfer supplies from inside the mall. We just have to figure a way to get in there without becoming a smorgasbord.”

  “That’s assuming that the creatures are not in the mall, too,” Steven added, but it was clear that Jack had given the boy something to consider.

  Jack turned and said, “Come on. Let’s find something to grub on.”

  “Please,” Steven said, brushing his knees off as he stood.

  Steven waved at his sibling as he and Jack stepped back out from the culvert on the dry creek bed. From where they stood, they could see a gas station facing a large intersection on the other side of the commercial building. The sun crept out from behind its veil and smiled on them. The small parking lot seemed vacant of any peril so Jack offered Steven his own smile and nodded in that direction.

  Working their way through the dense scrub brush, the boys came out the other side with numerous scratches and burrs. They knelt low once they were free and scanned the alley behind the large building. There was no movement so they jogged to the corner of the building and peeked around the front. They could see nothing more than a few scattered automobiles and a handful of corpses of the unmoving variety in the parking lot beyond where it met with the back of the gas station.

  In a few moments, they crept into the station keeping low until they determined if the station was empty. Jack checked the back while Steven went for the bathrooms.

  It didn’t take them long to fill a plastic sack with provisions. Steven spent a minute loading up on candy bars while Jack took the time to look out the glass widows at the front of the store. Across the intersection from him was a large shopping center advertising everything from furniture to a sporting and military surplus store. Its parking lot stretched for nearly a quarter of a mile and ended up at a Cinema. Jack’s stomach grumbled when he took in the pizza shop across the street to his right.

  “You ‘bout ready?” Jack asked, eyeing the car wash to his left that sat just to the side of the entrance to the mall parking lot. His eye was drawn back to the marquee that advertised the sporting goods and military surplus store. He realized that his answer to the dilemma of getting into the mall might be found in that store.

  “Come on, before your mother eats your siblings,” Jack said. Steven let out a barking laugh as he came up beside him. The boy seemed less tense. Jack took it as a good sign.

  It wasn’t long before Jack was seated with the Mason family eating chips, cookies and candy bars. He washed the sugary and salty mess down with a soda. When he looked up, he found Carol looking at him and she smiled.

  “You’re good with the kids,” she said. “I like that. You’d make a good father.”

  Jack sat there feeling her eyes on him. When she stood and moved over next to him, he tried to smile back and only managed to grimace. Steven’s face clouded over and Sheri rolled her eyes.

  “We’d make a cute couple. Don’t you think, kids?” she asked, not looking for an answer. She placed her hand on his leg and tried to catch his eye, but he suddenly found the darkness of the tunnel more interesting. She pursed lips and then bit her lower lip. “What’s the matter, Jack? Cat got your tongue,” she purred.

  “Um,” he began. “No, I was just thinking.” He brushed his pants off and stood up. “I think we’ve found a place for us to . . .” He paused looking for the right word.

  “Play house?” Steven asked. His voice was dark with warning. He looked Jack in the eye and then at his mother.

  He’s a brewing thunderstorm, Jack thought. “No. I was going to say that we’ve found a place that we can . . . live.” Jack hated the fact that the word he used sounded too close to the words Steven had used.

  “A place to live, huh?” Carol asked standing up. “Pray tell. Where is this place you are talking about?”

  Jack spent the next half hour outlining his plan to get them past a thousand zombies and onto the roof of the mall. Yet, his whole plan hinged on what he might find in a sporting and military surplus store that he’d never visited. He tried to remember what he could about those kinds of stores, which wasn’t very much. In the end, he was forced to concede that it was his only plan so he might as well pursue it — unless someone had a better one.

  When there were no takers, he packed everyone up and they made for the gas station. Once inside, he pointed across the intersection at the shopping center.

  “I’m going to try to work my way over there. I may be gone for quite a while,” Jack said. “The bathroom doors are heavy duty and they lock from the inside.” He pointed to a large cardboard sign that said “Ice Cream Sandwiches: $1.25” that sat above the register. “If something goes wrong, pull that sign down and I’ll know you guys are probably locked in the bathroom.” He paused to look at each of them and then said, “I’ll be back. I promise. Keep your head down.”

  Jack stepped out and listened as the door closed slowly behind him and then drew a deep breath of the afternoon air. He was surprised that there was so little movement from the dead above the mall up here. It was as if they chose to concentrate around that one area. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the thought should bother him, but he was looking forward to doing some shopping. Most of his survival gear had been left behind and it nettled him that he no longer had his binoculars or enough ammunition to defend those he’s become responsible for protecting.

  Jack paced himself as he jogged across the intersection. He’d always enjoyed activities that required physical effort. Throughout his middle and high school years, he’d played just about every sport. The jog brought him to life, and so he picked up his pace once he was in the parking lot of the shopping center. When he came within a hundred feet of his destination, he sprinted full out.

  He was so focused on running that he vaguely recalled the dead bodies that were strewn amongst the automobiles in the parking lot. However, the stench of the rotting corpses soon overwhelmed him so that he was forced to stop and cover his mouth and nose for fear of vomiting — so much for his brief exercise. He made a mental note to do some pushups before bed.

  The front of the store was sheer glass. He could see mannequins in various poses displaying different kinds of camouflage clothing. Most of it was winter, he supposed. Beyond the mannequins, he could see aisles filled with useful items. After a cursory glance, Jack opened the glass doors and entered the massive store.

  The air was still and a bit muggy. He looked around taking stock of the rows of cashier counters surrounded by racks and shelves of smaller items in their plastic bags, cases and bundles. To his immediate left was a row of pushcarts and handy little red baskets for customer use. Signs hung from slender chains about the store that announced to any shopper where they might find what they were looking for. Behind him, he could see that the entrance had a crash gate that could be rolled down from above the doors. He was glad that it hadn’t been closed.

  Jack started forward when he noticed a large satchel lying in the middle of the tile floor in front of him. He bent down and unzipped it. It was filled nearly to over
flowing with miscellaneous supplies. On top of everything were dozens of olive green packages labeled “MRE.” There was ammo and banana clips for an Ak-47, four nine-millimeter pistols with holsters and ammo and two of the largest Bowie knives he’d ever seen. He found a pile of lighters, a compass and a hand held crossbow.

  There was no doubt that someone had been stocking up on survival supplies. Jack stood up and thought about yelling to see if anyone was around, but he decided against it. Who knew what crazed creature could be lurking in the shadows.

  Then . . . he saw it. It was Randi’s skateboard. The contraption lay on its side exposing the red, faded and worn wheels. The underbelly of the board was a collage of colorful animé. Relief flooded over Jack like warm sunshine. She was alive! In fact, she had to be in the building! She wouldn’t have left without her board. He had to resist the urge to call out to her.

  Jack moved quietly and quickly down the main aisle of the store. The supplies and gear that surrounded him made him feel like it was Christmas time. He wanted everything, but it wasn’t until he was standing before the impressive display of guns encased in their glass homes that he allowed himself a big smile. He was right in his assumption that this store would have what he needed to get into the mall. He could equip a small army with the weapons he saw around him.

  Looking closely at the glass counters, he could see where Randi had been scavenging. The teenager sure had a knack for it, he thought to himself.

  A sound caught his attention. At first, he thought it was the air conditioning until he reminded himself that there was no electricity. It sounded like a bumping sound coming from above and it wasn’t until he heard a male voice shout “Yee-Haw!” that he realized that someone else was in the building besides him and Randi.

  “Randi!” He whispered as loudly as he dared. “Randi! Where you at, girl?”

  Jack moved slowly down the back of the store listening to the sporadic sound of thumping and the man’s voice that came to him as if from underwater. Jack’s eyes were on the ventilation ducts when something caught his eye across the store at the entrance. It was Carol and the kids. They were rushing through the thick glass doors and looking frantically over their shoulders. Jack ran in their direction before he saw the mob of undead charging up behind them.

  Sheri pushed open the second set of doors. She had been crying. Charlie tripped over something and fell on his chin, while Steven shoved his mother so that she fell over Sheri and they both piled in a heap. At first, Jack thought Steven was being cruel until he realized that the boy was clearing the way so that he could lock the outer doors.

  The boy stepped on the latch just as the herd of creatures crashed into the doors with bone breaking speed. The door was only fastened at the bottom so the top of the glass door pushed out, threatening to pop the bottom loose.

  Jack dashed forward, reached in and pulled Steven into the store. With a powerful yank, he pulled the crash gate down with all his might. It slammed in place locking against the floor.

  “What the heck happened?” Jack panted, leaning forward and putting his hands on his knees.

  Carol was still trying to catch her breath when the sound of glass shattering echoed from the back of the store.

  “Their coming in the back!” Sheri screamed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  R andi’s first awareness was the thundering pain that filled her head coupled with what seemed like sharp bolts of lightning in her vision. She felt as if her head had been battered flat. Her body spasmed with pain and a sheen of cold sweat broke out all over her. She was suddenly very cold. Though her eyes wouldn’t focus, she knew that she was laying cheek down on a tiled floor. Her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her so she lay still trying to remember how she got there.

  It was the sound of ripping fabric that stirred her memory. She found herself being jostled around before it became clear that the fabric she heard ripping was her own clothing. She was being stripped. Her head rebelled at the violent motion and she blacked out again. When she finally came around, she heard voices talking though she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Her vision began to clear, but her head still ached tremendously. She was indeed lying on the floor next to a pile of rags that had once been a pair of jeans, a hoody, and a jacket.

  “Hey, look whose awake, Daryl. Good mornin’ sunshine.”

  Randi rolled on her side and looked up at the two men. The dirty one she’d seen holding the woman when she came through the door was short and lanky. The other was larger. His head was shaved. He wore a wife beater and cutoff jeans. There was a tattoo of Marge Simpson on his neck. He was clearly the older of the two. She opened her mouth to scream and found that she had something stuffed between her jaws preventing her. Randi mumbled through her gag as the man knelt next to her. Her hands and feet were bound tightly with what she could only assume was duct tape. Frantically, she looked about the room. The other woman sat naked in the corner curled up in a ball. She looked out from under her mangy hair with her good eye. She was looking at Randi.

  “Women should be seen and not heard, girly,” he said, his breath reeked of bad hygiene.

  Randi tried to squirm away from the man when he slid his hands over her body. He groped her roughly beneath her underclothes. When she bucked, rocked back and forth, and pulled at the tape on her wrists in her effort to escape, the man cried, “Yee Haw!”

  “She’s a fighter,” the one named Daryl said through a grin. “I like ‘em when they fight.”

  A sense of helplessness filled Randi so that she stopped squirming and lay still. The shame pushed tears from her dark eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at the men. Lifting her chin, her eyes fell on the woman again. The woman was watching what they were doing to her. When their eyes met, the woman turned her head. She looked almost guilty. Understanding came to Randi slowly. Now that the men had someone else, maybe they would leave her alone for a while.

  “Hey, there are people in the store!” Daryl whispered.

  “What?” Billy said, frustration boiling in his voice.

  “Look! There’s people down there!”

  Randi felt hope surge through her as Billy took his hands from her and stood up.

  “Looks like a man and his family—WHOA!,” Daryl exclaimed. “You see that?”

  “Yeah,” Billy said, his voice constricting with fear. “How many do you think there are?”

  “Hundreds!”

  “I think we should grab our toys and slide next door. Leave the shopping to them.”

  Randi realized that they were talking about someone in the store below. Yet, there was no doubt about what he was referring to when he spoke of “hundreds” of them. Fear spiked her in her chest. She pictured herself lying on the floor hog tied as the flesh-eating creatures converged on her. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

  Randi tried to scream at the men. She wanted to tell them that she could help them fight the monsters. She needed to convince them to set her free. She shouldn’t be left to die helpless and unable to defend herself.

  “If we’re goin’ to do it, let’s do it,” Billy said as he turned. He wanted to carry the girl, but Denise was the larger of the two women.

  Like a sack of flour, Randi found herself tossed over Daryl’s shoulder with her head dangling behind his back. His thin arms were stronger than she would have thought as his right arm locked like a bar across the back of her thighs holding her in place. He kissed her hip and gave her a pat on the butt.

  Daryl whispered, “When Billy gets tired of you. You’ll be mine.” His voice was thick with desire and it made Randi shiver.

  Helpless, Randi was carried down the narrow stairwell and into the dark hall. She tried frantically to look around her to see if there were any creatures heading her way. She had no doubt that if it came down to it, these men would leave her to be eaten rather than risk being eaten themselves. The darkness of the hall was suffocating. She was carried through swinging doors into what looked like a small wareho
use. The air smelled of cardboard and wood.

  In the dim light, Daryl headed for a door off to the left. Then he hit something with her feet and in a brief moment, the room filled with the sound of smashing glass.

  Billy swore. “Careful, you idiot! Those things are attracted to sound!” And then in lower tone he added, “Besides, did you see how big that guy was?”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Daryl as he burst through a door into the bright afternoon.

  There were three things that stood out to Randi in that moment. The first was the blinding sunlight that clawed at her eyes when they exited the dark building. The second was the sound of the door behind them closing and the third was distinct disharmony of wails, growls and cries that announced the presence of more zombies than she could probably count.

  Billy quickly turned to go back in the building only to find that the door was locked from the inside; around him stood dozens of flesh eaters. Their grey pasty skin and lurching movements bespoke the lesser of two evils roaming the city. Some were within arm’s reach of him. “Move!” he urged Daryl who stood rigid with fear.

  When the musky scent of fresh feces filled her nostrils, Randi realized that her captor had lost control of his bowels. She could see the swell on the back of his jeans. From her upside down position, she could tell that the space behind the shopping center extended less than fifty yards before dropping off down a grass-covered hill. In the distance, the city mall sprawled out across the landscape like a giant “T.” The parking lot was filled with biters.

  Daryl turned slowly to look at his cousin with horror. His eyes reflected the madness of a mind that had experienced a premonition of a torturous death. In that moment, his fear gave his feet wings.

  Randi knew she was in trouble when Daryl had lost control of his bodily functions. When his arm released her legs, she felt gravity pull her head first into the ground. She had just enough time to wonder how many more blows to her head she would be able to endure before it was over. In the midst of so many man-eaters, she welcomed the darkness that followed the brief explosion of pain she felt when her head impacted the pavement.

 

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