Rise and Walk

by Gregory Solis

  “Be careful,” Nikki said to Tony, “seriously.”

  “Don’t worry; we’ll be back in no time.” He pulled out his pistol and spare magazine, “Here, keep this for me.”

  She took the weapon, checked the safety like he had shown her and put it in her pocket. Mason, helmet on and ready to go, kicked over his starter. Nikki handed Tony his helmet. Her concern was apparent. She was afraid for the boys; afraid she wouldn’t see them again. Veronica put her arm around Nikki as she backed away from the bikes. Tony kicked his starter three times and his old yellow bike sputtered to life. Come on girl, he thought, you got a lot left in you. Nikki looked at the rear fender of Tony’s Yamaha and noticed a worn sticker that said Suck Ass. She smiled despite her worry.

  The two bikes, unencumbered by extra passengers, blasted onto the road. Mason, in the lead, popped his front wheel in the air and disappeared over the rise.

  Lance had almost snagged his way through the tape when he heard the women approach. Pain induced perspiration covered his face. He quickly tried to brush off the sweat. He put his hands down, hoping that no one would notice the frayed tape on his wrists. As they entered, he pretended to be sleeping.

  “How long do we wait?” Nikki asked removing the pistol from her pocket and holding it for comfort.

  “Jack said two and a half hours,” she answered checking the watch that he had given her. The watch read seven A.M. Veronica placed the two by four across the door.

  The sunrise had allowed the ghouls to see once again. The tempting scent had faded with the dawn but they were close. They moved faster now and no longer stumbled. The noise that roared in the distance gave them a new heading. It was a loud sound that echoed in their dead ears calling for investigation. Once young bodies, healthy and strong now moved their torn and mangled carcasses, mouth first towards the sound of motorcycles.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The ruts and rivulets of the hard dirt road were easier to navigate at higher speeds. Mason knew that Tony must be struggling to keep pace but their speed was actually making the ride safer. There was urgent work to be done and he knew Tony wouldn’t want to disappoint him. Flashing a look backwards, he was proud to see his friend doing his best to keep up. Rounding the second turn in the road, Mason slowed and trained his eyes off to the side. Lance had given them an approximate location for his broken down truck. Providing that he was telling the truth, this should be the place. Mason dropped his bike into first gear. Putting along in jerky spurts, he scanned the hillside beneath him. He saw it, about one hundred yards away down the hill. Looking back he observed that Tony saw it too. Mason cranked his throttle and bucked his cycle over the rise. He switched to second gear while keeping a careful eye out for surprise geography that might fell his bike. The ground was safe with the exception of the large gully that had trapped the Dodge. Mason saw a lip on the top of the gully that could serve as a springboard for his cycle. He hit the edge and jumped four feet, landing on the other side. Riding a perimeter around the vehicle, he made sure that the coast was clear. Seeing the slumped pile of human remains in the dirt, he squeezed his clutch lever and slowed to a halt. A cloud of flies, disturbed by his arrival, flew up into the air angry at Mason’s intrusion. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination but he thought he could hear their buzzing over his motor. Mason saw the body but tried to be distant, scientific, like Veronica would be. He took note of its decaying wounds but tried to not let the reality of it in. He killed the engine and leaned his bike on the truck.

  Tony wasn’t the motorcycle enthusiast that Mason was. He decelerated before hitting the gully and left his bike to idle on the kickstand. He jumped the gully, just not on his motorcycle. He landed on the dry grass with an awkward thump. Opening the driver’s door, his senses were assaulted by the decaying fermentation of Josh’s body. The smell pushed Tony back as if it were a physical force. He swung out, away from the baking cloud and hung from the door by his hand. He made an audible groan. Mason heard and lifted his head over the truck bed to check on his friend.

  “What’s up?” he inquired.

  “Open the door, air it out!” Tony declared, sure that he would never forget the sour smell.

  The flies settled back to their work of eating and laying eggs in the rotting corpse. Mason walked carefully around, not wishing to disturb their toil for some strange reason, and opened the passenger’s door. A light breeze blew through the cab sending the stink of rotting flesh in Mason’s face. His squinted down hard at the wretched air.

  Inside the cab, he saw the work that Lance’s twelve-gauge had done. The tissue around the exposed meat that once made up the seated man had curled back on itself forming bizarre skin blossoms. His midsection had bloated and filled with gas. The disgusting juicy bits that should be dark red or even brown from exposure to heat and air had turned a greenish black. Mason noticed this distinction by way of comparison to the exposed muscle of the corpse on the ground. One was in the heat of the truck all day, and the other wasn’t, but there was another difference. The sad fly covered scoop of human remains lacked the same smell. It smelled like rotting meat, without the tinge of ammonia. He would remember what he had seen for Veronica. She would want to know all about his observations.

  Tony took a deep breath, held it, and shot his arm into the cab to find the hood release lever. He pulled the lever and quickly threw the drivers seat forward to look for the jumper cables. He scrambled his right hand around in a hectic search. He felt the cables and pulled them free. Kicking the door closed, he fell on the ground.

  “That … is … fucking … disgusting,” he gasped.

  Mason walked to the front of the truck and opened the hood. Much to his relief, he saw that the battery was undamaged. He pulled a wrench from the cargo pocket of his camouflage pants and started to remove the battery. Tony got to his feet, coiled up the loose strands of jumper cable while walking to Mason’s bike and put the cable in the milk crate. He saw the flies. He saw the body, so pathetic and forlorn, piled in an impossibly uncomfortable position. The man’s arms were splayed out in opposite directions that must have dislocated something somewhere. Tony quickly turned and pulled off his helmet. He thought he was going to throw up his very soul. He leaned on the back of the truck breathing heavily. The image of the body sat in his thoughts. It was so sad and distorted; it hardly looked like it was once a person; a person with hopes and dreams. The finality of the man’s death, the indignity of his last resting place brought hot tears to Tony’s eyes. He knew that he couldn’t fall apart now. Things had to be done. He thought about the girls at the shack and about Jack who needed his help. He remembered his Shakespeare and tales of proud deeds. He had to steel his heart for just a little bit longer.

  Mason moved from the front of the truck to his bike. He placed the battery in the milk crate and jiggled it to check its stability. Tony quickly replaced his helmet to hide his expression. Mason thought Tony resembled a villain from a bad eighties science fiction movie with his plastic armor and combat gear. Under other circumstances he would have given Tony a hard time, but not now. He mounted his bike and kicked at the starter.

  Running back to his motorcycle, Tony mumbled to himself within his helmet.

  “Once more into the breach, dear friends.” The phrase both encouraged him and caused him to shutter. Shakespeare never failed to choke him up.

  Once they had climbed the grade back to the road, the men engaged their throttles on full. Mason led and Tony followed.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Lance tugged at his bonds secretly, not wishing to call attention to his actions and alert the girls. Slowly, he moved his wrists apart, testing the tape’s strength. He thought he could break through the remainder of the tape with a strong jerk, but if he was wrong, the game was up. If only the girls would leave him alone again, then he could finish chewing through the tape. The thought made his broken tooth throb even more.

  “What time is it?” Nikki asked eyeing Lance.

  “Seven forty
-five,” Veronica answered, staring through the slats of the shack towards the road. She looked back at Nikki and paced forward a bit. The waiting was taking its toll on Veronica’s nerves. She wanted to help the men, to act and play a part in their survival. She felt a touch of that old fear that she had as a little girl, when her father wanted to leave her to help dig survivors from the rubble. No longer a little girl, the woman in her still feared that she might not see Jack and Tony again.

  They had passed out of the valley into the trees. The wretched beasts moved in staggered groups, spread out without any sort of organization. They took no note or exception with the many flies that landed on their decaying skin. The large country insects took bite after bite from the cool meat of their carrion. The creatures made no objections. They simply walked. Walked towards something that smelled desirable to what was left of their minds. They couldn’t articulate their desire. The ability to use any sort of language was long gone from the mush that occupied their craniums. They only reacted to the smell. Thoughts no longer occupied their minds, only the urge to feed. Now, driven only by the most primitive of instincts they found a clearing with a building not far from the trees. They didn’t understand what a building was anymore, only that it smelled appetizing. Like a slug that slithers away from a hot surface, these sickened, slimy creatures, covered with blood and foulness, crawled towards something warm. They slouched and shambled forward towards something to be consumed.

  Veronica heard a faint rasp of breathing behind her. For a moment, she thought it was Lance, until he spoke in a frightened tone.

  “What was that?” he asked hurriedly.

  Veronica’s heart seemed to freeze. Lance’s voice excited whatever was on the other side of the shack. She heard another dry moan from outside. Something thumped against the wall next to Lance. He bounced forward from the impact. Hands slapped on the walls in greater numbers. Nikki, face blank with terror moved near Veronica in the center of the shack. She pressed her shoulder to Nikki wanting to touch her for reassurance but too afraid to remove her hands from the shotgun.

  “They’re here??? What are they doing here???” Nikki almost screamed.

  “I don’t know, they must’ve found us.” Veronica shuttered.

  The moans from outside turned to growls, growing louder by the moment. The walls shook but held. Veronica moved to the door to check the two by four that barred it shut. Nikki followed, finding the open room, now free from motorcycles, very large. She stayed close to Veronica out of fear.

  The air was thick with the cries of the living dead. Their loud moans seemed to converge closer and closer. Their forms outside blocked the light that penetrated through the small slats, creating horrific, slow moving shadows. Fingernails scrapped and broke off as the beasts tried to claw through the planks. Nikki looked at Veronica with a pale, questioning face. Veronica knew what she was thinking. How did they get here and what are we gonna do? Veronica took her left hand off the shotgun for a moment and put her finger to her lips, making the gesture for quiet.

  Lance decided that now was the time to make a move. The wall behind him shook, throwing him forward with each blow. He thought he could smell the rot coming off their bodies through the wood slats. He threw his arms apart with explosive effort. The tape didn’t break. He pulled his wrists back up to his mouth and grinded the last bit of tape against his jagged tooth, smashing his nose with his open palms. The pain was excruciating but he succeeded. The tape separated with the girls too busy to notice. He grabbed the improvised dart and drew the sharpened tip across the tape holding his legs, several times. It perforated the surface of the tape but not all the way through. He sliced at his bonds faster and faster until he freed himself.

  Wood crackled and snapped from opposite Lance. On the other side of the wall, something broke through a weak board, about two feet from the floor. The slat separated at a knot hole. A slimy hand forced its way in with the wood bending forward like a saloon door. As a ghoul tried to pull its hand out, skin tore on the rough surface of the wood, clamping down on the thing’s wrist. Veronica dashed to the intruder. Nikki stayed put, not willing to get close to the greasy claw. Veronica slid the shotgun barrel through the breach in the wall and fired the .410. The creature blew back from the wall leaving a six inch tall, one foot wide gap where its hand had been. She broke open the breach of the shotgun to reload. Lance sprang up, grabbing the open weapon. He punched Veronica hard across the chin. His size and weight advantage over her sent Veronica flying towards Nikki.

  “No!” cried Nikki scrambling to point the pistol up towards Lance. Veronica got to her feet and watched Lance pull a green shotgun shell from his pocket. Where the hell did he get that? She wondered in anger. He snapped the breach closed and aimed at Veronica. Nikki remembered to flick off the safety and took aim at Lance.

  “Put the gun down, little girl or I ‘m gonna put a big hole in this bitch’s chest,” he said.

  Nikki was scared. The world was falling apart around her. She wanted to just put the gun down and hope that everything was going to be all right. But she knew it wouldn’t be. She knew she couldn’t let Lance have their guns. She pulled back the hammer on the pistol, just like Tony had shown her.

  “You have one bullet, I have seven,” she threatened earnestly. Her soft voice sounding determined while holding back her panic.

  “Yeah, but you’re not gonna shoot me. I will shoot her.”

  “Shoot him Nik,” Veronica urged.

  The walls shook. A creature looked in the hole next to Lance and growled fiercely; foamy saliva frothing from its chapped and cracked mouth. Lance saw the creature in his peripheral vision but kept his eyes on Veronica. Nikki’s heartbeat felt far too fast.

  “Give me the shells in your pocket!” Lance demanded.

  “Shoot him!” she called to Nikki.

  Nikki saw Lance pull back the hammer of the shotgun. She pulled the trigger. She aimed for his chest but the bullet struck Lance in the stomach, just below the sternum. He reeled back in agony. Veronica turned and tried to gain some distance. Lance, still in shock but fueled with rage, tilted the shotgun up as he fell and fired striking Veronica on her left midsection. The shot reverberated through the shack exciting the ghouls even more.

  Lance slumped unable to control his legs. He fell to his right against the hole in the wall. A raging creature outside snapped off the four foot plank that was underneath the exposed area. More things came to the breach in the wall. Fingers clawed at Lance. He slapped at their hands impotently with weak defensive swipes. The shotgun slipped from his hands in the struggle. Another plank tore free, lower than the first, exposing more area of the wall. Arms entered the building and seized Lance. He screamed in terror and they answered him with roars of hunger. A two foot by four foot section had now become exposed. A creature poked his head through and sunk its dirty teeth into Lance’s forearm. He wailed with a coward’s tenor as blood fell in thick drops on the plywood floor.

  Nikki watched with her gun still aimed at Lance. She knelt down next to Veronica and saw blood soaking through her motorcycle jersey. Nikki was in a panic. She seemed to vibrate with frustration and fear. Lance screamed causing her attention to shift.

  The creatures fought wildly over which one would have access to the hole in the wall. As one ghoul stuck its head into the shack to try and bite Lance, another would pull it out by the shoulders, wanting the meat for themselves. Finally arms began to pull Lance out of the hole. He moved slowly at first, fighting to stay inside. An exposed nail in one of the two by fours dragged a deep crimson gouge across his face as he was pulled along. Merciless jaws assaulted his appendages. Once his head became vulnerable to the outside, the erstwhile Professor Galloway found Lance’s face and bit ravenously into his lower lip. Mindy, the former cheerleader slithered her small form through the press of the hungry crowd like a cunning reptile and brought her broken and deformed braces down on Lance’s neck again and again, silencing his cries.

  Nikki watched i
n horror as Lance’s feet disappeared out of the hole. The words, Oh God, Oh God, ran over and over in her head. She had never been so scared before in her life. She was alone with those things; hungry and surrounding her. They would come in and eat her if she didn’t do something about it. She had bullets; six in the gun and four in her pocket. Oh God, Oh God, the panic replayed. Below her mental mantra of fear, ideas for survival forced themselves to the surface. The thoughts were not words, rather an inspiration. She had to block the hole in the wall before one of the creatures crawled in.

  Pocketing the pistol, she ran to the large workbench. With a wide sweep of her arms she cleared everything off the bench. Paint guns, tools and the red toolbox crashed to the floor with a loud clatter. She kicked the shotgun out of her way, sending it sliding towards Veronica’s body. Throwing all of her one hundred and eighteen pounds behind the bench, she was able to bring it to its tipping point. It hung in the air for a moment, balancing on two legs long ways then crashed to the floor. She pushed the bench the way a footballer hits the practice sleds. Slowly it moved towards the gap. The heavy workbench smashed flush with the wall against the two by fours. Without thinking, Nikki fetched up one of the blow darts and a hammer. She pounded the nail through the bench and into a two by four, smashing the paper cone. Turning, she pulled the axe off the wall rack and wedged it between the far side of the bench and another two by four on the back wall. The structure was heavy and it just might hold.