A zombie had torn at the wound on his arm, pulling away more of the flesh and bringing a fresh scream from R.T. as Brock was digging around for his pistol, still sitting against the car as more zombies were coming. R.T. had ignited the Zippo lighter as a zombie cut off his screams by chomping into his throat. He was gagging on his own blood as he began to feel hands grasping at and squeezing the flesh of his head. He lit the rag on the cocktail, and he smiled a bloody smile at the things, which were near to tearing him to pieces.
“Go to hell,” he rasped, and slammed the cocktail down on the rest of the bag.
There was a bright flash, and the fireball swirled up around the entire calamity as Brock scooted further back, watching the flames swirl, and at least a pair of zombies stagger away. He had freed his pistol, and he gasped in horror at the death of his friend, regarding now his own getaway. It was then, however, that he felt hands upon him, and with a cry, he spun, firing two shots.
Only then did he realize that both shots- deadly accurate- had struck Doctor Holcomb in the chest, and the good doctor gasped as he fell backwards.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO- ESCAPE FROM THE DEAD
Brock regarded the collapsing Holcomb with terror as he scrambled to his feet, and watched a sea of slow-moving zombies reaching for the dying man. He shook his head in disbelief, closing his eyes as a pair of the hands tore open the doctor’s throat with a spray of blood. Brock was jolted back to reality when a moan sounded next to him, and more hands were upon him. He had ceased to care about Holcomb’s fate as he turned to see dozens of the things in his way.
Crying out, he began to squeeze the trigger on his pistol.
Weight fell against the wooden door to the living quarters on the upper floor of the fire station, and Jon stood back at it with his shotgun at the ready. Jake and Bulldog had moved to where they were near the door that would lead up to the roof, while Ash had lowered Clyde’s pistol, and Clyde smiled at her.
“Oh, I can take you to your sister, but I want something too,” he said.
“Don’t do this,” Ash warned him.
“Shoot that motherfucker,” Bulldog grunted.
“I’m telling you, we’re running out of time,” Jake said, sounding less than patient.
“You know he’s right,” Clyde said. “Better make up your mind quick.”
Mick had brought up his rifle, but Ash pushed it down, not seeing that Clyde had slowly reached behind his back to begin freeing a knife in a sheath on his belt.
“No!” Ash cried. “He knows where Dana is.”
“So do I,” Mick uttered to her.
“You don’t know shit,” Clyde groaned.
“I know she’s on the roof,” Mick said, which immediately brought a horrified expression to Clyde’s face. Ash cocked her head to the side.
“That’s where she is, right?” Ash asked.
“Now everybody just calm down,” Clyde urged.
Ash laughed,
“Now you want to be calm?” she asked. “Is my dickhead dad up there with her, too?”
Clyde smiled venomously.
“Poor son of a bitch is dead,” Clyde told her. “I had to kill him.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t get all choked up,” she quickly snapped at him.
The door sounded as though it was splintering from weight on the other side of it, and Jon joined Jake and Bulldog at the stairs to the roof.
“Come on, everyone up to the roof,” Jake said.
“What about me?” Clyde asked, his fingers fully grasping the knife.
“You know,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, you and my dad can-”
The knife came free of the sheath, but Ash was quick enough to have backed off, and in another instant, the last three shots from Clyde’s pistol had gone off, two striking his left thigh, with the last ripping through his crotch, and causing him to suck in a dreadful breath. He had fallen to his knees, but was kicked onto his back by Ash, who stepped on his chest. Jake urged the other two into the stairwell to the roof.
“What about you?” she asked, remembering so many awful things. “You’re going to lay here and die, and you can just know I’m going to leave here with my sister. All the terrible shit you ever did, you’re about to pay for. I only wish I could stay and watch, but I’m headed somewhere with a beach.”
She stood back, but it was then that the cheap door split in half, and the dead began to file into the room. Mick had regarded them as Ash continued to glare down at Clyde, but quickly, he took her by the arm and shoved her toward the door to the stairs. She looked up, suddenly quite horrified at the sight of the tattered, wet assembly of ghastly creatures closing in on them. Mick drug her into the stairs, and cut off Clyde’s desperate plea for them by shutting the door.
They were quick to join the others at the top of the stairs, and Jake cautiously opened the door to the roof into the night. Ice was building, and it was snowing and raining harder as they looked out to regard the rooftop. Another gun battle was not something any of them wanted, and Bulldog had bandaged himself with a rag from his coat pocket.
Clyde was attempting to scoot himself backward toward the closet as the zombies were squishing toward him, moaning as their mouths had already begun to work. Their hands were grasping as they were catching up to him, and he realized he was not going to outrun them. His knife was too far away, and soon, they were upon him.
More and more hands began to grab at him, squeezing, and he screamed as the first fingers broke the skin of his arm, followed by a group of mouths, biting at the arm. He was loudly, hysterically shrieking as hands began to squeeze about his throat, and still more were pulling on his legs, his clothing, and his face. There was a hot sense of pain as a zombie had dug its fingers through the flesh of his belly, which seemed to excite the creatures.
He could actually see as his belly was being torn into, and pieces of him pulled out, just before hands and teeth had torn through his throat. The last of the things he saw before his eye was gouged by a grasping, bloodstained hand, was his own ribcage actually being pried apart by a crowd of the snarling things. He was unconscious, and then dead before they had wrenched his head, and lower half loose.
Mouths were filled with gore and flesh as the blood spread through the carpet of the chamber, and his legs we pulled away from one another as the din of their moans and wails had become quite loud. Many of the creatures began to grasp and paw at the door where the other humans had gone, and one hand managed to work the handle, and the door was open.
The others had spilled onto the roof, and immediately, Ash was looking around wildly for Dana, but finding only the hose-drying tower, huge air conditioning units, and a radio tower as she looked around. Jon and Mick returned to the door to the stairs and looked down, disappointed to see that they were not going to be alone for long.
“Dana?” Ash cried out. “Dana, where are you?”
“Right here,” Tank said menacingly, stepping from behind the hose-drying tower with Missy and Dana. Dana had started to lurch forward, but was halted by Tank.
“Ash!” Dana cried.
“Drop those fucking guns,” Tank said, just as the sounds of the zombies was growing louder, and guns were pointed at Tank by Mick, Jon, and Bulldog.
“Ash, I’m sorry, I didn’t know!” Missy said.
“Missy, shut up!” Tank bellowed.
“Pal, I don’t know who you are, but we have about a minute to get off this roof before we get a lot of company up here,” Jake advised.
“Bullshit,” Tank scoffed.
“Fine, don’t believe me,” Jake said. “I don’t care, but we’re taking the girl, one way or another.”
“Is that right?” Tank asked with a smile.
“That’s right,” Jake said.
There was a pause, and it was terrible as the weather seemed to worsen, and zombies had begun to shuffle onto the roof, but had not rounded the hose-drying tower. Missy shook her head.
“Tank, maybe-”
/> “God damn it, shut up!” Tank shouted at her, turning toward her.
But he had missed the zombie, its cooking apron tangled around it, and most of its throat gone, as it made a sort of squealing noise, bowling into him. Jake glanced over his shoulder to note the approach of many more, and he fired off a few rounds, only stopping one of them. Another zombie, on the ground, had latched onto Tank’s leg, and was trying to keep a hold on it.
Missy was paralyzed with fear, but Ash had been quick to snatch Dana away, and Tank emptied his gun as two more zombies grasped at him. Missy was drug away by Jon just as the ghouls were closing in on her as well, and the group of humans moved away from the howling Tank as zombies were piling onto him. The terrible scene played out again as Tank felt the ragged fingers dragging away layers of his forehead. He struggled, but to no avail as even more of the creatures had stacked on him, trying to reach the warm flesh to feed upon.
A zombie’s head thrashed, splattering another two of them with bloody meat as it reared back, and was replaced by three others. Tank’s screams continued as Jake ordered the others to find a way down. Mick found the front edge of the station, but looked down upon a sea of the monsters, and shook his head before running back to the others. It was Dana that had spied just the very top of a ladder sticking above the edge of the roof, and she led Ash to it to look down.
It was a narrow area between two parts of the station, with a set of steps that led to the small street behind the fire station. Ash looked back at the others to note that they were still searching around, and she called to them. Quickly, they joined her at the ladder, and all were glad to see that the narrow area at the bottom had no welcoming committee at the bottom. Without hesitation, but with care on the icy ladder, they started down one at a time, with Jon having to urge Missy onto the ladder as Tank’s screams had died off. The zombies were closing in.
Mick unleashed a burst of fire at the encroaching things, but Jake pulled on him.
“Get the fuck down the ladder!” Jake urged, which sent Mick climbing down, followed by Jake.
With the last of them on the ground, they headed along the narrow area to the steps, where Ash wrapped Dana in a big hug.
“Thank god you came!” Dana said.
“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” Ash promised.
Jake looked out at the street, which was dark, and devoid of any movement, and he glanced over the group.
“Time to get back to the truck,” he said. “We’ve got a date.”
They had started forward, when Jake stopped Ash and Missy, and he glared at the soaked, blonde Missy.
“Can we trust her?” Jake asked.
Ash nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “We can.”
They continued out into the street, rounding a corner to walk out into the dark street. They trudged through the slush, but began to slow as a growing, collective moan was coming at them. Emerging from the gloom, directly in front of them, was a virtual wall of the living dead, blocking the way to the main road, where they could quickly return to the safety of the truck. As the ghouls began to appear in larger and larger numbers, and some coming from behind, the group stopped, and Bulldog regarded his wound.
“How is that?” Jon asked.
“Hurts like hell, but I think it missed anything useful,” Bulldog replied.
Jake stared at the things, a collection of what had once been people, and he pulled out the magazine from the MP-5, checking it, and re-inserting it as the others began to ready their weapons. Dana looked across all of them, and then toward Mick, and she pulled on his arm, which caused him to look over at her.
“Somebody give me a gun,” she urged as the things drew closer.
“Can you shoot?” Mick asked.
“Uncle Mike taught me all about guns,” Dana informed them.
“Jonny? You got anything spare?” Mick asked, which prompted Jon to reach to his pack, and a moment later, he tossed Mick a nylon case. He unzipped it, and looked up at Jon.
“All I had,” he said.
But Dana was quick to pick up the small Mac-10 sub machinegun, and she grabbed the three magazines from inside the case, which Mick tossed aside. He would have asked her if she knew what she was doing with it, had she not slammed home the first of the magazines, and charged the weapon with a quick pull of the bolt on the top. He grinned.
“I think she’s got it,” Mick said, and looked back up to the slow-moving horde.
“Fire ‘til your dry,” Jake said. “It may be the only way out of here. Time to get savage.”
“Seems like a good place for a joke,” Jon said dryly, staring ahead at the horde coming for them. “I ain’t got one.”
There was another dreadful pause as they made sure they were ready, and Bulldog readied the SAW. He put on his sunglasses.
“How about now?” Bulldog asked Jake, not looking at him. “Can we shoot ‘em now?”
Jake’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re god damned right we can,” he growled.
The roar of their guns filled the night, and zombies near the front were shredded as the group tore into them. Missy had stayed near Jon as the guns continued to blast through the dead, dropping many of them into the slush on the ground. Dana was better with the Mac-10 than Ash was with the UZI, but together, the group was cutting a path toward the main street. Mick reached forward to the trigger of the grenade launcher, firing one off to blast a group of them near a car.
They continued on, but the shotgun had gone empty, as had Missy’s pair of revolvers, which she holstered. Slinging the shotgun, Jon handed off his pistol to Missy, and took out the golf club he’d taken so long ago, strapped to his pack. As they continued to rip the crowd of zombies with their weapons, Jon beating them back with the club as well, they were closer to the main street, and soon, had reached it.
It was thinner along that street, and the firing died away as they set out at a run on the slippery ground, now headed directly back to their truck. As they ran, Jake checked his watch, and found that it was already after ten. Soon enough, there were none of the staggering beasts about them, and they paused to catch their breath in a small cluster of cars.
“Damn it,” came the voice of Brock. “You people sure make a lot of noise.”
Jake wildly looked around, and then down to find Brock, very snow and ice-covered, seated against the grill of an old beater. The others were quick to gather in around him, and Jake knelt. He could tell, even though he really wanted it to be any other way, that they had lost some of their group.
“Come on, Brock,” Jake said. “Time to get out of here.”
“Not going anywhere, Jake,” Brock said.
He turned his head to the side to reveal a terrible-looking bite on his neck, and there was a collective, almost palpable sense of disappointment at the sight of it. Jake’s head lowered, and then came back up as he and Brock locked eyes. He shook his head, while Brock took a drink from a metal flask he held.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jake offered. “What about the others? R.T? Did the Doc find you?”
“They’re gone, Jake,” Brock said. “That’s the hell of it.”
“Fuck!” Jake blurted.
Brock paused, but looked around at the group as they stood above him.
“Did you find the girl?” he asked.
Ash, almost proudly, displayed Dana to him, and Brock nodded with a weak smile.
“Well, looks like I can die a hero after all,” Brock uttered.
“They’re comin’,” Missy said, almost in a panic as she had noted an army of the ghouls coming up the main road. Jake regarded this, and he looked down at Brock.
“We can’t leave you here just to get torn apart by those things,” he said grimly, but this brought a grin to the face of Brock.
“You all go on, and get out of here,” he said, and opened his coat to reveal that he had a finger through the rings attached to all four of the hand grenades. “I’ve had a little time while
I was waiting for ya. I’ll buy you some time.”
“What?” Jake asked, and looked around, noting that Brock had surrounded himself with a small collection of partially full gas containers.
“Wait a minute,” Dana said, sounding terrified. “Is this all because of me?”
“Dana…” Ash began, but Dana had fallen against her, and Brock called out.
“Hey, girl,” he said, which drew Dana’s tear-filled eyes. “Don’t you ever think you weren’t worth it. We knew why we was coming, and damn it all, with the pictures I got in my head, this is better, believe me. I wouldn’t want to make it now. My wife’s waitin’.”
Jake motioned for the others to get started toward the truck. They bid farewell to Brock as they left, until only Jake and Brock were left, and they locked eyes again.
“Goodbye, Brock,” he said.
“So long, Jake,” Brock followed up. “Now go on and get out of here, before those things catch up. Don’t you worry about me.”
Jake nodded, and then left slowly, headed after the others. The zombies were closer, and Brock took the last swig of the whiskey from the flask, and tossed it aside. As the zombies came into view, and were continuing up the road, Brock laughed at them. Many had started to take note of him, and his expression turned into a scowl.
“Come on, you devils…” he growled at them. “Come on!”
Many had started for him, and their wails grew louder as they were gathering in toward him. But as the first had started to paw at him, he looked at it, and winked at it, his remaining strength helping him pull the pins on the grenades. The next zombie clawed at his throat, opening its mouth.
“Adios, motherf-”
The grenades exploded, igniting the gas cans in a huge fireball, which caused some of the cars nearby to explode as well, and the fleeing group looked back at the sight. Ash gave a single cry, while Jake merely stared for a moment, and then waved the others on. Soon, they were at the truck, and quickly the tarp was torn aside. Jake went to Mick.
Escape from the Dead Page 21