American Revenant: Hometown Exodus

by Davis IV, John L.

  8

  “Find anything good?”

  “Damn, is that all you can say, Mike? Not even a ‘Good to see you’re still alive and not eaten by an evil zombie’?”

  Everyone laughed, which made Jimmy feel good. Laughter wasn’t always easy to come by these days.

  “A few things that might be useful,” Gordy said as he slowly swung open the doors on the box truck.

  Everyone stood in shock for a moment, and then the excited babble began. No one could believe the haul they had just brought back. Rick was especially pleased by the high-powered long range weapons.

  The group agreed that everything was ready, and the plan to reach the marina should begin tomorrow morning. The box truck was left as is, to be added to later. The old pickup they had appropriated and the larger diesel pickup they had been keeping just for a time like this were brought around to the front near the doors, with everyone pitching in to ensure they were loaded quickly.

  Once the vehicles were loaded, the group gathered for one last meal in the old school. Two people were left at the front doors to stand watch over the loaded trucks. They were soon replaced by two others that had eaten, so everyone could enjoy the meal.

  When the food was gone and the mess cleaned up, everyone, including the children, gathered to discuss the plan to reach marina, and Dean’s mission to ring the church bell. They talked for hours, often diverging from the topic to laugh or tell stories of ‘the good old days’.

  Children and adults began to yawn and stretch, showing their weariness. The long days of preparation for departure had taken a toll on everyone. With aching backs, sore shoulders and a glowing hope for tomorrow many went off to rest. Each and every person was aware that dawn would be the start of a long day.

  9

  Gordy and Jan woke Dean at 3:30 in the morning. “Meet us in the cafeteria in a few minutes son.”

  Dean took a few minutes to wake up, use the bathroom, and splash some water on his face. He knew everyone was relying on him today, that he had to succeed in his mission or no one would get out alive. That thought was more bracing than a cold splash of water. His fear of failure was far greater than fear of his own death.

  After retrieving his day-kit and the .22 pistol he always carried, Dean went to the lunchroom to meet his family. His parents were there, as were his two older brothers and his younger sisters, Lynn and Anna. They weren’t that much younger than he was, but Dean always felt a strong need to protect them.

  Rick, Mike and Jimmy were also awake and waiting with his family. They all gathered around Dean, with somber faces and heavy hearts. Whenever someone went out alone the risk was always far greater. Everyone present fully understood how critical this mission was, but it did not make it easier.

  Gordy handed his son a cup of strong black coffee and said, “Ok son, let’s go over it once more briefly.”

  Dean pushed the coffee back, “You know I hate coffee, and I know the plan. We don’t need to go over it again.”

  “We know you hate coffee, but the caffeine will do you good on this morning of all mornings. Now choke it down and shut it.” Jan glared at her son until he took a small sip of the hot liquid.

  “You may be on a life or death mission, boy, but you still gotta listen to your momma.”

  “Really, Rick? Did you have to say ‘Life or death’?” Anna looked daggers at Rick, until Jan put her hand on Anna’s shoulder. Tears hung in her eyes making Rick feel two inches tall.

  Gordy quickly rescued the moment. “We all know what’s at stake here. But there’s not going to be any death involved. Unless it’s the death of the dead,” he said, wearing a big grin.

  “Oh jeez, dad, that’s was pretty bad.” Lynn smiled at her father.

  “She’s right, Gordy. That was awful,” Jimmy said with a smile.

  “Jimmy, am I going to have to take you outside?”

  “As long as you don’t tell me to look at the pretty flowers.”

  Everyone groaned loudly at Jimmy’s T.V. show reference, and the tension was broken. From then on the conversation was a little easier.

  Dean went over the plan once more, outlining his bike trip to the church. How he would get in as quickly and quietly as possible, then wait until 6 a.m. to start ringing the bell. Three minutes after the bell began, the convoy of loaded trucks would start out for the marina. It would take them less than five minutes to reach the boat ramp and slips. Dean would continue to ring the bell once per minute for twenty-five minutes. When the twenty-five minutes were up he would make his way from the church building down to the waterfront.

  He was fully aware that getting out of the church and down to the river’s edge where his extended family would be waiting was going to be extremely difficult. He was drawing every zombie within hearing distance straight to him, after all.

  Gordy and Dean held their watches next to each other, watching the second hands sweep rapidly around the face. The timepieces had only a few seconds difference and they were both satisfied. They continued to stand like that for a moment, as if their wristwatches had acted as some strange time portal, freezing this second of closeness in time.

  Suddenly Gordy turned and grabbed his son and hugged him tightly. Dean returned the hug eagerly, closing his eyes and resting his chin on his father’s shoulder for an instant. “The other guys are going to get jealous that you don’t hug them like this, Dad.” The two men pushed away, recognizing that both were fighting back the flood of fears and tears threating to burst through the heavily fortified dam of a man’s heart.

  Quiet laughter passed through the small group. Dean proceeded to hug the rest of his family, each as eagerly as he had his father. He shook hands with the other men, except when Rick pulled him into a quick embrace.

  “It’s a quarter after four, better get on with this,” Dean said, making for the front doors. Stepping out into the hall he nearly walked over a small child that had been sitting on the cold floor.

  “Hey Mr. Fletcher, I wanted to say bye and be careful ok?”

  The sweet soft features of Ashley Mitchell looked up at him. Ashley had joined his Karate class two years ago on her eighth birthday. Her younger sister Miranda had taken the class for a short time but decided she would rather dance than fight. Ashley had stuck it out, becoming quite proficient and a favored student simply for her willingness to learn. She didn’t quite understand what respect was yet, but it was obvious that she had a great deal of it for her instructor.

  “Don’t you worry, Little Dragon,” Dean said, calling her what he called all of his green belted students, “I’ll be very careful.”

  “Well, ok then.” Ashley looked up at him for a split second then grabbed him in a quick hug. She turned and ran back down the hall to her sleeping mat, calling over her shoulder, “Kick zombie butt!”

  Calvin and Sam were standing guard at the doors.

  “Wondered where you two were,” Dean greeted his brothers, “figured you were probably still sleeping.”

  “We chose guard duty, so we could see you off, little brother,” Calvin said.

  Calvin and Sam quickly hugged their younger brother. No need to draw it out, since they knew he would be coming back to them soon.

  “Kick zombie butt, man!”

  “Sam, you aren’t the first person to tell me that this morning.” He smiled at his brother, his family and friends, then pointed his bicycle towards the road and pedaled away.

  “Well let’s get everyone awake and ready. They all need to be bright and bushy when 6 a.m. hits,” Gordy told those assembled at the doors. He took one last look over his shoulder before closing the doors.

  10

  Dean pedaled hard, not wasting a second. Following Highway 79 he crossed the bridge that went over the railroad tracks. He took his first available left, up Church Street. The dark streets were eerily quiet. He could not recall a time he had ever been anyplace so silent.

  Shambling zombies were nearly everywhere he looked. The haunting mutilated fa
ces of his fellow townspeople turned to follow him, their shuffling feet changing direction as he went by.

  He felt no threat from these sad, horrible creatures. He was moving quickly on the bicycle, and there was plenty of room to maneuver so that he was always out of reach of the grabbing, hungry zombies.

  It was his intention to go all the way up to Sixth Street, but a thick knot of zombies milling about and blocking off most of the street forced him to change plans on the go.

  Dean took no time to admire the architecture of the Hannibal Public Library, as he did every other time he saw the building. He made a right turn on Fifth Street, then up the block and left on Broadway. He pushed faster, easily avoiding the few zombies wandering the street.

  Keeping to the right side of the corner in his turn, Dean nearly ran into a car. There was a long line of vehicles parked diagonally along the right side of the street, going all the way to the door of the church. It was this line of cars that brought Dean’s thought processes to halt just as it had his bike.

  There were only a couple of undead gut-suckers wandering the street. Dean knew that in times of great crisis people would flock to their churches. People who hadn’t seen the inside of a church in years would suddenly feel a burning need to be close to God. All of these cars had carried people here, to this church. The cars were lined neatly along the curb, but where were the people?

  Dean shuddered as the reality of it hit him. They were all inside the church. That church was packed full of bodies, whether those bodies all lay dead and decaying or if they were up and shambling and damned hungry he had no clue.

  There were two doors on the Sixth Street side of the building, one on both the North and South corners. Dean thought for a moment that if he could draw whatever was in there out one door he may be able to go in through the other while they were busy exiting. He checked his day-kit to see if he could find anything that he could use to get the attention of any zombies inside the building.

  He almost laughed out loud when he found three packages of firecrackers he had forgotten were in the bag. He remembered that he had used the bag to pack around some fireworks the last time he and a bunch of friends had gone out to the lake, nearly two years ago.

  Two zombies still shuffled aimlessly in the street. “You two could be a problem,” he whispered to himself. He did not relish the thought of killing anything. These past three weeks had been quick with lessons, and he knew that he had to do what needed doing. Not just for himself, but for those he cared about.

  Dean laid his bike quietly against the curb next to the Wade Stables tax building, and withdrew the SOG FastHawk he carried in his belt, enjoying the heft of the axe. Staying low he moved up the line of cars, keeping his targets in view. He noticed that the man’s face and shirt were bloody, but he was nothing but clean compared to the gore that covered the woman’s dress. Once he drew even with the closest zombie he sidled between a dented minivan and a sleek new sedan.

  He waited quietly until the shuffling creature went by him again. The back of the woman’s dress was just as bloody as the front had looked from a distance. He followed her with his eyes, waiting for just the right moment. And there it was. He leaped up quickly, axe raised high, ready for the strike. He didn’t know if he scuffed his shoe or kicked a rock, but suddenly she turned and he was looking into the blank cataract covered eyes of a human being.

  Axe still high Dean hesitated, Ms. Bloody Dress didn’t. She stepped into him and he fell into her. He could feel teeth clamp like a vise on the muscle between the neck and the shoulder. He yelled, pushing against her, and he could feel her let go just as quickly as she had clamped on to him.

  Losing his balance, Dean reached out and caught the sleeve of her dress while swinging the SOG axe hard at her skull. He buried the spike point into her head and they both went down, Dean sprawling on top of her.

  Dean heard a groaning noise, suddenly remembering the other zombie on the street. He jumped up quickly, attempting to jerk the axe from the dead creature’s skull. Two jerks, three jerks, ‘This shit always looks easy on T.V.’ he thought. The second zombie was closing on him faster than he expected, which caused another burst of adrenaline. On the fifth jerk the skull-caught axe snapped free.

  Ms. Bloody Dress’s head thumped back to the concrete hard, if he had time to think about that awful sound Dean knew it would be with him for a long time. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it, as the groaning zombie was only a few shuffling steps away.

  Dean braced himself, letting it come to him. Arms raised, hollow eyes fixed on him, Dean half expected the creature to start moaning “Braaaaiins, Braaainnns.”

  Just as the zombie was close enough for an unexpected lunge, Dean stepped forward and swung the axe hard, once again using the spike point instead of the blade. Axe protruding from its temple, the creature crumpled to the ground.

  Dean stood there for a moment examining the strap of his day-kit. Ms. Bloody Dress had nearly bitten through it, and he knew he would have an ugly bruise there later. But she did not get through to his skin so he refused to spend time thinking about it. “No time to waste,” he said aloud. With one hard yank of the axe handle he pulled it free and moved toward the south door of the church.

  11

  Everyone at the school stood around the front doors, waiting for the bells to start ringing. They had nearly an hour left to wait when Tam said “Listen. Anyone else hear gunfire?”

  Everyone feel into silence, trying hard to listen beyond the preternatural silence. They heard a rapid popping in the distance, coming from the direction they knew Dean was supposed to be.

  “No, that’s not gunfire,” Sam said. He looked at his brother, “Firecrackers maybe?”

  “I think so. But why fireworks? Wish I knew what the hell was going on.” Calvin looked north, and hoped the best for his little brother. He knew the man was tough, but it was a different world now; an anything goes world.

  “Ok, people, let’s do one last sweep of the building. Make sure we have everything. All bedrolls need to be wrapped up tight, any remaining food and water consumed or stowed.”

  “Aye aye, Cap’n Tamara,” someone said.

  “It is 5:05, we all gather at the vehicles in thirty minutes.”

  12

  Dean was inside the church, standing brazenly right inside the north door of the building. He had guessed that neither door would have been locked if church had been in session, and he was correct. He had opened the south door quietly, moved back up to the north door and opened it, hiding behind the door. Taking one pack of the firecrackers he lit the fuse and tossed it as far as he could get it down the block.

  Reaction from inside the church had been instant, and noisy. Load moaning and groaning preceded the large pack of zombies from the building. They exited mostly through the south door moving as quickly as their shuffling gait would allow, although Dean did notice that a few of the gut-suckers did move faster than the rest.

  The firecrackers burned up quickly, and Dean lit another pack, throwing it as hard as he could over the heads of the pack as it moved away from him. He decided to risk it, and swung around the door, pulling it closed behind him.

  Two zombies were still heading for the south door when he swung in, the big door slamming closed. Both creatures looked directly at him and began a loan moan that sent chills down his spine. The time for hesitation was past, and Dean knew it. He ran forward and snapped a flying kick into the first zombie, knocking it back into the second and putting both on the ground.

  He reached out and grabbed the big doors, pulling them closed while the two undead on the floor reached for him. Doors closed, he turned and swung the SOG FastHawk hard into the skull of the zombie on top, effectively pinning the second down, making it a much easier kill.

  After dispatching the pinned zombie, he took a few minutes to look over the church. He didn’t see any more dead up and moving, but he remained cautious. The church had become an abattoir. Dead, and horribly dead lay eve
rywhere inside the building. Propped up in pews, lying in aisles, stuffed beneath the wooden seats; bodies were scattered throughout the church. He hadn’t noticed the smell before, being preoccupied with not getting chewed on again, but it now invaded his sinuses and pushed down his throat. He felt his gorge rise; there was simply no holding it back. He vomited all over his shoes and a couple of dead bodies that had obviously been chewed on.

  Dean checked his wristwatch; he had forty-three minutes left. After double checking the locks on both sets of doors he settled in a corner of the small vestibule where the bell rope hung and waited. He had briefly entertained the idea of searching the church for anything salvageable, but the thought of wading through that killing floor caused his stomach to flip.

  13

  “Ten minutes to go, everyone mount up!” Mike went through the group, helping people to pack themselves into the crowded vehicles. Each cab carried two adults and two children, no one was comfortable. The rest of the adults rode in the back of the trucks, mostly sitting atop the supplies.

  Each adult was armed with only a sidearm, except for Rick and Mike. Mike carried the suppressed DPMS Oracle AR-15, while Rick had appropriated the Accuracy International L115A3.

  Everything they owned, and every person in the group was now in a vehicle. People with wristwatches kept glancing at them. Even though they knew it was coming, the sound of the church bell surprised everyone. The distant bell rang clearly, shattering the surreal silence.

  Jimmy started the engine of his vehicle and looked over at his wife. Tamara looked back at him, her usual sarcastic grin gone, replaced by a grim, strained look. “No worries babe, we got this.” She just nodded as Jimmy followed the other two trucks out to the highway.

  Sam drove the lead pickup, with Gordy following in the box truck. The small convoy pulled out onto highway 79, then took the next right at Bluff Street, they turned left at the end of the two block long street onto Main. From there it was a straight shot to Broadway. The final right turn on Broadway and the distance of about two blocks put them at the marina. The entire drive took less than five minutes.