Escape from the Dead

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Escape from the Dead Page 18

by Joshua A. Brown


  Ray was shuddering, and now strapped down to the cot as the lab remained almost in total darkness. Holcomb was asleep nearby at one of his tables, his hand still clutching a pencil as he quietly snored. A shadow fell across Ray, and Dawn knelt by him with the revolver in her hands, looking at him as his eyes remained open, but rolled back now. The doctor had given him more drugs, but Ray was starting to lose his fight, and Dawn began to cry. She lifted the revolver up.

  “I know I told Jake I couldn’t,” she said quietly. “But I can’t see you like this, baby.”

  Her trembling hands lifted the gun slowly as Mark slid into the shadows of the lab. She wasn’t entirely sure how to use one, but remembering things she’d seen from television, she pulled the hammer back, and she moved the gun forward toward the graying, stiffening face that had been her loving husband. Crying, she put the gun to his head, and shook her own head slowly as she looked at him.

  “I’ll always love you Ray,” she said. “But I’m so sorry…”

  But as she squeezed the trigger, Jake’s thumb had found its way between the hammer of the gun, and the firing pin, and though it hurt like hell, he drew the weapon up to himself. Her stunned, tear-filled eyes looked up to find Jake, and she was quickly on her feet. Mark watched from the shadows as the pair stood there, and Holcomb continued to snore.

  “I don’t think you really want that to be the last thing you remember about him, huh?” Jake asked.

  She sputtered, and could find no words to either curse Jake for stopping her, or thank him for the same thing. Finally, she let out a sob, and rushed from the room as Jake took the gun from his thumb, and looked down at Ray. He then turned toward the exit from the lab, and left, with Mark following him, before breaking off to go to the radio room. Jake could hear as Dawn encountered Jon in one of the other corridors, and then rushed off. Jon, making his way toward his own quarters, saw Jake and stopped.

  “What’s with her?” Jon asked, directing a thumb behind himself.

  “I think she knows the end’s near,” Jake said. “But I can’t let her make the mistake of doing it herself.”

  Jon nodded grimly.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink,” Jon said.

  “We gotta work in the morning,” Jake said as they headed for the front room.

  “Yeah, but I know the boss, and he needs a drink,” Jon kidded.

  They turned on some of the lights in the front room, and Jon found a bottle of whiskey, which he brought to the table. Just after each had poured a glass, they were joined by Bulldog, who sat at the table, and looked between them.

  “What’s this little party for?” Bulldog asked.

  “Call it… pre-numbing,” Jake answered. Bulldog was only too happy to take a glass, and he downed the whole thing.

  “Oh, now I can totally get behind that,” Bulldog said. “Bad enough there’s so much the last few weeks to numb.”

  Jake poured Bulldog’s glass to full again, and then topped his own off.

  “So how’d you get here?” Jake asked. “I mean, we know you got back to the states and headed to your grandma’s place in Louisiana, but, something made you split your unit.”

  Bulldog was smiling, and he looked at Jake, then at Jon. He took a moment more, and then downed the entire glass of whiskey, and drew in a long breath. When he exhaled, he was no longer smiling, and he fiddled with the edge of the glass. Jake and Jon exchanged a glance, and Bulldog looked up at them again.

  “We got back, and landed in New Orleans,” Bulldog said. “Big C-130, and we poured out, and our C.O. was all big time rah-rah. We were gonna stick it out, and be part of the solution. If the dead were up and walking around? We were gonna put ‘em back down.”

  He motioned to Jake, and the glass was filled with whiskey again, and then emptied again as Bulldog tilted his head back. Jake couldn’t tell, but the big marine’s eyes looked a bit welled with tears.

  “We didn’t do so good, man,” Bulldog said quietly. “We hit the ground, and thought we’d fight our way out of that airport. Problem was, there were so many, it became a bloodbath, and we lost almost half of sixty guys. We beat it, and found places to hide and fight, but without places to resupply, we had to be careful.”

  As Jake and Jon listened, Bulldog leaned back, thought a moment, and then leaned forward.

  “We had a few guys with us that were wounded,” he continued. “Bit, and so we thought, if they’re injured? We ought to get to some damn doctors, and so we hauled ass to one of the hospitals. We had to fight our way in, and we just went up and up and up, floor by floor looking for doctors.”

  Now, he paused, and neither Jake nor Jon could tell whether he had laughed, or cried as he looked into his hands.

  “God damn it…” he said. “Ain’t enough whiskey, Jake…”

  “You haven’t told this story, have you?” Jake asked.

  Bulldog looked up, and shook his head.

  “We got up there,” Bulldog said. “Seventh floor. Lucky fuckin’ seven. But I remember we got out there, and all I could do was freeze, and stare at it. Couple guys lost it, and started pukin’, crying… one guy capped himself.”

  “Jesus…” Jon wheezed.

  “But I couldn’t look away,” Bulldog said. “I knew what had happened. Those things… those, those… fucking monsters, they just went right through that nursery… Fucking KIDS, man! Babies!”

  Now, he was crying, and he looked up at them.

  “How could that happen?” he asked them. “Why? Why wasn’t anybody there to save ‘em ?”

  Jake shook his head.

  “Well that was it,” Bulldog said, trying to clear his eyes and nose. “I couldn’t take no more. I knew I had to find someone I loved. But there was just nobody left… I ran into some guys, and that’s how I ended up here.”

  Jake and Jon were silent.

  “Marines don’t cry,” Bulldog uttered, gritting his teeth.

  Jake handed off the rest of the bottle to Bulldog.

  “I think it would be okay this once,” he said grimly, just before Mark came to the room.

  “Any of you guys know how to work this radio?” he asked.

  “Why? What’s up?” Jon asked. “Another transmission?”

  “I don’t know,” Mark answered. “Noise, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”

  “Same frequency?” Jake asked. “Station?”

  “No, the other one,” Mark said. “The one we can talk into.”

  Jake and Jon exchanged a glance, and then all of them, including Bulldog, hurried from the front room toward the radio room. They entered, and everyone went to the CB. There was indeed a click for a moment, and then a buzzing sound. Mark picked up the radio mic, and keyed the button.

  “Anyone out there?” he asked. “Come on!”

  But Jake shook his head.

  “Hard to say, but could just be interference, some crap with the weather…”

  “Aren’t there some knobs we can turn or something?” Mark asked desperately. “There has to be someone out there!”

  “There’s nobody out there,” Jon said. “It’s made that noise since we got here.”

  “This was different, I swear it!” Mark said.

  But the others had started to walk away, and Mark growled, tossing down the mic.

  The rest of the night was quieter, but it was not many more hours before Jake had gone to the room with the big sofa, and he quietly nudged Mick. It took two tries, but Mick opened his eyes, and looked over at Jake, who tapped his watch. Mick nodded.

  “I’m gonna get a quick shower,” he said. “Wake me up.”

  “Got it,” Jake said. “We’re going to a place called Coulson today.”

  “Right,” Mick said before Jake hurried off. Mick stretched, which half woke Ash, who smiled but hadn’t opened her eyes.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “About,” he said, and checked his watch. “Five. We’re headed to a town called Coulson for supplies, so you’d better
get up.”

  “Five,” she groaned with a wrinkled brow. “Can I just stay here?”

  He smiled, and laughed quietly.

  “Sure thing, sleeping beauty,” he said. “I’ll find you when we get back.”

  She laid on the couch, and Mick covered her with a nearby blanket before heading to the showers. In a short while, dressed and ready, he joined the others in the front room as they were getting weapons and packs ready. R.T. had come back down the stairs, and he took off his cap as Mick took his rifle from the rack, examining it.

  “You want the good news?” R.T. asked. “Or the bad news?”

  “Let’s go bad news,” Brock said.

  “It’s raining,” R.T. said.

  “Tremendous,” Jake said flatly. “The good news?”

  “It ain’t snowing,” R.T. answered.

  “Thanks for the silver lining,” Brock said.

  “All right, Coulson, and back home, and that might be about it, guys,” Jake said. “Can’t get caught here with our pants down if this rain turns into ice.”

  “Most of the shit is packed,” Jon said. “So whatever we find today can just stay in the white truck, and we can beat it after we make sure everything and everyone are ready.”

  “And that means we better deal with Ray,” Brock said.

  “Yeah, won’t that be a joy?” Jake added.

  “I’d say we stick to the essentials today,” Bulldog said. “Food, ammo, gas, and water.”

  “Good idea,” Jake agree. “Nothing fancy.”

  “Then let’s get on the road,” Mick said. “Let’s get it over with if we’re going to get wet.”

  They finished making themselves ready, and started up the stairs to head for the white SUV, which had been acquired to replace the white truck. They had decided to get the pair of enclosed SUVs for the road, as the poor weather was likely going to follow them until they made it far enough south. R.T. had understated it, as the found the rain to be coming down heavily, and Jake started the white truck with the others settling into seats as well. Anything they found could be stored in the back, or on the rack on top.

  Soon, they had left their home behind, headed to the east to the somewhat distant town of Coulson. But no sooner had they left, Ash was nestling down onto the couch a bit more when it came. The soft piano music filled her with both relief and terror, and she sat upright, taking the phone, which was low on battery, into her trembling hands. She pressed the button to answer it, but almost dropped it at once, as the other end was filled with the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

  “More of ‘em! There’s more of ‘em!” she could hear the sound of Clyde’s voice, followed by more shots. Dana- it had to be Dana- screamed in the background, as the sound of ghoulish moaning could also be heard. Ash held the phone close to her face.

  “DAD!?” she called into it. “Someone answer me!”

  More shots, and a voice that could have been Tank, shouted. A woman said something, and there was a crash. Clyde’s voice came again amidst the chaos and confusion.

  “Welles! LOOK OUT!”

  There was a growling, and then a screaming, several more shots, and Dana’s voice was cut off as the phone call ended. Ash was quaking, and staring with wide eyes at the phone. She pressed the send button to call back, but it went straight to the voicemail greeting for her father, and Ash shook the phone in frustration.

  “No! NO!” she called at it, and then fell to sobbing with the phone in her hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY- A DARK DAY, A LIGHT RAY

  Coulson was just as they had expected it, with light rain falling, and Brock drawing away the soaked, moaning zombies by honking the horn far from the other side of town. It wouldn’t be perfect, and more of the dead would still be there, but with their attention on Brock and the truck, which they would not catch, those hunting supplies could move a little more freely. They had split up into two groups, with Mick and Jon checking one area, while Jake, R.T. and Bulldog searched another area.

  They had been at it for an hour, storing supplies outside the edge of the town where Brock would be back to get them at the time they had decided. Jake, Bulldog, and R.T. had just stashed more of the supplies they had found; an assortment of food, water, and some useful items like rope and gasoline, when a ghoul approached from the trees. R.T. slammed into it, and the thing landed on its back on the gravel shoulder of the highway.

  R.T. smiled at it, and he kicked it back to the ground as it tried to sit up. He stepped down with one of his big boots on the thing’s neck as he regarded the living corpse of the security guard. Its mouth chomped, and its hands fought in vain to remove the boot from its throat, the dead eyes staring at nothing as it growled upward. Jake shook his head.

  “Don’t fuck around with it,” he ordered. “Just kill the fucking thing.”

  R.T. gave a nod, drew up his boot from its throat, and then stomped back down hard, feeling the boot crush the skull as he put more weight on it. Blood and viscera leaked from the head, and R.T. ground his foot into it a bit more as Jake simply looked on. Bulldog spit a big wad of tobacco juice.

  “Boy, you got problems,” Jake said.

  “Don’t wanna waste a bullet,” R.T. said. “Might need ‘em.”

  “We need Brock back here with that truck,” Jake said, just before Mick and Jon appeared, carrying even more. Mick noticed that the rain had lightened a bit, and he smiled as everyone took in the sight of the supplies.

  “Finally,” Mick said. “Good score.”

  “Yep, but once we outrun this weather, we’ll have to keep on it,” Jake cautioned. “This is just the start.”

  “Better get the truck here,” Bulldog said.

  “Right,” Mick acknowledged. “I’ll go give Brock the high sign.”

  He headed off up the highway a bit to where he would flash a light at Brock to alert him that they were ready. After Mick had gone a considerable distance, R.T. looked over at Jake, and nodded toward Mick.

  “You know it’s getting colder,” R.T. said. “Gonna start snowing soon.”

  “Yeah, and ain’t that a peach,” Jake said.

  “I just hope your brother, and his little girlie friend know, we can’t hang around,” R.T. added, which at once soured Jake’s expression.

  “Yeah, I know that,” Jake said, and “So does he.”

  “I hope so,” Brock interjected.

  “Don’t you worry,” Jake said. “We’re leaving tonight if it starts snowing.”

  “I just hope this thing with Ray plays out even half smoothly,” Jon said. “That’s going to be tough.”

  “I know,” Jake said. “For now, Dawn still has him, though.”

  Holcomb held a syringe, and he turned from one of his benches, regarding the shuddering Ray as Dawn kissed his forehead. She then turned as Holcomb approached, and he smiled at her, though she was in no sort of good humor. Still she stood back as Holcomb approached with the syringe, and stuck the needle in Ray’s arm- there was no reaction to it. Holcomb pushed the plunger down, and looked up at Dawn.

  “Time for Ray to get a little rest,” Holcomb said.

  “It’s okay,” Dawn said. “I’m going to go help Mark get things ready to leave. I don’t know where that girl Ash went to.”

  “She’ll turn up,” Holcomb said pleasantly, his tone gentle. “I’ll come get you when he wakes up.”

  She nodded, and headed from the lab. After she was gone from sight, Holcomb’s expression was colder, and he knelt by the cot. Ray was shuddering even more, and his eyes fluttered, which made Holcomb smile.

  “There now,” he said to Ray. “The time’s almost up, but I need you for one last bit of research before I have to leave you here. So that’s why there’s just a bit drain cleaner in your veins right now, Ray. It’s time for you sleep, so I can see how long it takes you to come back.”

  Ray convulsed, foam beginning to come from his mouth.

  Elsewhere, out of the rain, Welles lay on what had been a workbench in a garage of
an old farm, and he winced. Near him, Tank and Missy stood quietly, both fearful as they looked at the bloodied, shaking Welles. Dana was also nearby, but she seemed almost emotionless as Clyde approached Welles, a dreadful smirk on his face.

  “How you holdin’ up, boss?” Clyde asked.

  “How the fuck you think, asshole?” Welles hissed.

  “Just thought I’d check,” Clyde drawled back.

  “Well don’t go getting’ all mushy on me, motherfucker,” Welles growled.

  “Don’t worry,” Clyde said with a smile. “I ain’t.”

  “You know what you gotta do,” Welles said resolutely. “I don’t want to be one of them fucking rotten bastards. Let me talk to my kid.”

  Clyde gave a nod, then turned to Dana, who reluctantly approached her father, whose breathing was stiff with pain. Dana looked at the gory wounds on his hands and wrists, and then up at her father’s face as he spoke. Still, there was very little expression on her face.

  “You’re gonna be all right,” he said to Dana. “You stay close to these guys, all right?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Dana agreed.

  “I know I wasn’t the best dad, but you know I really do love you girls,” Welles said to her.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You weren’t the best dad.”

  She then walked away, while Tank and Missy exchanged a glance, and Clyde snorted. With Dana gone, headed back to their truck, Clyde closed in, and he had his pistol in his hand. He brought the gun up under the chin of Welles, with a glint in his eye as he pulled the hammer back on the Beretta. Welles shook his head.

  “See you in hell, you fuckin’ pig,” Welles growled up at him.

  “Save me a seat, boss,” Clyde said, before Welles closed his eyes.

  Missy and Tank had just gone to the truck as well when the sound of the single shot came from within the garage. The three outside watched as Clyde emerged a moment later, and looked over his remaining crew. He adjusted the patch over his right eye, and then turned to Tank.

 

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