“I haven’t seen anybody change yet,” Nick told Snake as they were loading the last few items. “What can you tell me about it? From what I’ve heard, those who are infected get sick first and eventually appear to die. If this is the case, we should have time to secure them to a bed or a gurney when they begin to reach a danger point. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I couldn’t tell you exactly how long it takes,” Snake remembered, “but I saw a couple guys at the shelter turn. It started with flu-like symptoms and it progressed pretty fast. When we took them to the ER, nobody could figure out what was wrong with them. Nothing showed up on the blood tests, but remember, we brought these guys from the shelter and they weren’t insured, so the tests weren’t exactly exhaustive, just the bare minimum. We took them back to the shelter and they seemed to sleep a lot. A lady who checked on them noticed that one wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t find a pulse, so we did CPR. Mouse gave him mouth-to-mouth and I did the chest compressions but nothing worked. Then the other one stopped breathing and the ambulance still hadn’t arrived, so we called again. Half an hour later, when the paramedics finally got there, both of the guys had already woken up and had gone insane; like rabies. They just attacked everyone they could. The people that were killed by these goons seemed to reanimate shortly after they died.” Snake stroked his beard as if he were deep in thought.
“Doc, I saw someone torn in half, literally, and a few minutes later, he started trying to attack people. I was a medic. Believe me, I know live from dead. These people were dead. It seems to be transferred by body fluids, mainly saliva . . . oh crap.”
Snake hit his head on his fists. “Mouse gave that guy mouth to mouth. Do you think he could be infected?”
Nick considered the question. “It might require an entrance into the bloodstream, so a cut in the other person’s mouth could possibly allow introduction of a contagion. Perhaps someone should keep an eye on your friend until we learn more about this.”
Snake grunted in agreement, almost sorry he had said anything to the doctor. He didn’t want to see any of his guys restrained needlessly.
“Well, Doc, if you’ve got everything, I think we need to get going,” Snake said, knowing that they’d been making a lot of noise, which had probably attracted all the dead within hearing distance.
Doune walked through the lab one last time then turned off the generator. The gates and alarms were on a separate system and would not be affected. He pulled the metal bay door down with a loud clang before locking up and arming the alarms.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” one of the bikers said, noticing several of the undead gathered beyond the wall.
Snake looked at the crowd behind the gate.
“No sense in letting them in,” he said. “We’ll just pick them off and open the gate. It may be a bumpy ride, though.”
Snake caught movement out of the corner of his eye. One of his men had jumped off of the truck and was running toward the wall.
Snake yelled up to the others. “What the hell is he doing?”
“He said he’s going to distract them so you can get through clear,” said a voice from the top of the truck.
The man ran to the wall, leaping as he came within a few feet of it, and barely caught the top with his fingers. After pulling himself up, he started waving and shouting at the creatures. Snake watched as the undead slowly started to leave the gate and work their way toward the man.
“That wasn’t worth the risk but I guess it’s working,” Snake admitted as they approached the abandoned gate. “Would you believe we call him Monkey?” Snake smiled, trying to get a reaction from the Doctor.
“Why am I not surprised?” Doune asked, dryly. He shook his head as he watched the man, wondering if he acted so impulsively all the time. Perhaps he was just so sure of himself that he didn’t believe that it was that much of a risk. If his actions enabled them to get the truck out and close the gate without letting any of the infected in, Doune would be grateful. It was good to know they might be able to use the lab if they had to leave the hospital, though it wouldn’t accommodate many. If things got to that point, Doune would have to decide who would be allowed to come with him. They would have to be useful to him, of course.
Snake drew his attention to Monkey. Earning his nick name, Monkey jumped from the wall onto a tree in the neighboring property. The creatures were slowly enticed away from Doune’s gate toward the adjoining lot, which housed a run-down commercial building surrounded by a scattering of trees. The trees were thicker at the rear of the lot and it was hard to tell how far back it went.
Monkey taunted the zombies from his perch in the tree, bouncing on a limb while shouting and waving his arms. The dead followed a cyclone fence that stretched across the front of the property, clawing at the air as Monkey continued his taunt.
As soon as it was clear, Snake opened Doune's gate and drove out, pushing the button to close it again before any of the dead wandered back.
Satisfied with the results, Monkey began to climb back across a thick limb of the tree. He was halfway to the block wall that divided the two properties when the branch snapped.
Monkey hit the ground hard and it showed on his face. He went to stand, but crumpled to the ground when he tried to put pressure on his right leg.
As some of the men jumped down off the truck to see if they could help, Snake quickly scanned the area, trying to figure out a way to get to his friend. The only gate was about three feet wide and padlocked from the inside. There was a small retaining wall supporting the cyclone fence, so driving through it to perform a rescue was out of the question.
“Is there another way to get onto the property?” Snake asked Doune.
“The delivery trucks usually go around the back,” Doune said. “There’s a wider gate and the owner doesn’t always lock it since it’s hidden from sight by the trees.”
Some of the zombies that had been intent on getting at Monkey through the wire fence now turned toward the bikers at the truck with a renewed interest.
“Guess we'll have to go find that gate.” Snake sighed. “Hang tight there, Buddy,” he called to Monkey. “We're coming around back.”
Monkey tried to crack a smile through his painful grimace but his expression changed as his head turned toward the trees at the back of the property.
Snake had only driven a few feet when he saw the look on Monkey’s face and it gave him a sick feeling. His heart sunk into his chest as the dead swarmed out of the trees and began to surround the injured biker.
~*^*~
~24~
The truck slammed to a halt, making Doune cringe.
Snake jumped out and some of the men on top of the truck quickly climbed down to join him. They opened up with a volley of shots that dropped some of the dead on both sides of the fence. The shooters still on top of the truck concentrated on the swarm surrounding Monkey, but for every one that was shot, two more staggered from the forest to take its place.
Monkey crawled toward the fence, dragging his busted leg behind him. As the shooting continued, it seemed to attract more attention, as the dead were now beginning to surround the bikers on the other side of the fence, forcing the shooters on the ground to concentrate on defending themselves.
As Monkey came within feet of the fence, the horde caught up with him. A look of horror crossed his face as the dead began to overwhelm him, pulling him back as he tried to claw his way forward. The horror turned to pain as they began to sink their teeth into his flesh.
Snake shook the fence and yelled, hoping to draw the zombies away from his friend, but it was too late. They had already begun to tear into his body. His friend’s screams reverberated in his ears and he knew what he had to do. Lowering his pistol to Monkey’s forehead, he put his finger on the trigger and began to squeeze.
Snake had pulled the trigger countless times since the crisis had begun and, for the most part, the targets had been mindless ghouls. He had also performed two mercy killin
gs, but they had been strangers, mangled to the point where death had been a welcome release. This was different. Monkey was like a son to him. Snake had been with him through the drugs and alcohol. He had watched as a life of chaos had begun to have meaning again. He had watched as Monkey had begun to help others overcome the same demons that he had slain. Now, Snake’s hand trembled as he tried in vain to pull the trigger. Monkey screamed as he awaited the fatal blow and the men grew anxious as the undead horde around them began to close in. Snake had to end his friend’s suffering, but his finger wouldn’t move.
A shot rang out and Monkey’s head jerked to the side then followed his body to the ground where he lay, motionless. Snake looked up to see Wolf slowly lowering his gun. Snake nodded his head in a gesture of doleful gratitude and hurried back to the truck, firing through the crowd of undead that was increasing by the minute. Within seconds, he and the rest were safely back at the truck.
~*~
The incident with Monkey had happened so fast that Snake had barely had time to think. Driving back to the hospital, he had nothing but time. The group had decided earlier that if any of them got bitten, they were no longer who they used to be. They were dead, and the newly born creature inside them must be destroyed. Still, it didn’t make it any easier on Snake. He’d known Monkey for years and had always warned him that someday his impulsiveness would be the end of him. Doune remained silent and Snake was glad about that.
As they drove back to the hospital in silence, Doune again studied the infected that they passed, observing everything in an effort to learn more about them. They were clumsy and slow and while they were probably almost as strong as they had been in life, their biggest advantage seemed to be their large numbers. Unless a person was caught off guard, one or two of them would be little more than an annoyance.
Nick glanced over when Snake straightened in his seat, squinting at something running ahead of them.
“They’re moving pretty fast for dead guys,” the biker said, opening the window to call up to the men on top of the truck. “Boys, I think we might have some survivors up ahead and it looks like they’re not alone.”
He gunned the engine to bring them closer to the small group of people that were running toward the road. The man at the front was clearing a path with a baseball bat, but when he spotted the truck he began waving frantically. He was trailed by a couple of small children and a woman who was carrying a bundle in her arms.
The man helped his family around some of the cars that had been pushed off the road then he urged them toward the truck as he turned to take a swing at the closest of the following horde. He obviously knew how to use the baseball bat, dropping the creature with a single blow to the head. He took out a second one and then a third before hurrying after his family once more.
When the woman and children reached the truck, a couple of the bikers jumped down to help them. They knew it would be difficult to get the family onto the roof, so one of them tried to open the roll-up door at the back of the truck. The man still lagged behind, working crowd control with his baseball bat.
“Come on, hurry up, mate,” Wombat said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“It’s stuck,” replied Fish, whose real name was Gilbert, though he went by Gil. Snake had immediately known what nickname to give him. “I can’t budge it.”
“That equipment must have shifted inside,” Wombat said, sheathing his machete.
Both of the bikers worked together while Wolf, who was still on top of the truck, picked off the closer zombies, but there were many more coming.
“What’s the hold up?” Wolf yelled to the others, not able to see them. He turned and fired off three quick shots, dropping one ghoul with each bullet.
“Lady, get in the cab and we’ll put the kids and your husband on the top of the truck,” Fish said.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want the children up there unless I’m with them.”
“Fine, then we’ll put you all up there,” he said.
“Hand up the kids,” someone said, leaning over to reach an arm down. They got the two children up quickly but when Wombat tried to take the baby from the mother, she pulled away.
“No!” she said, eyes wild.
“All right, lady, nobody’s going to hurt your kid,” the Australian biker said. “But if we don’t get you up there fast, you’re both going to die!”
“Ginny, do what they say!” the husband said, glancing at the truck long enough to see what was going on. He turned away, quickly crushing another head as the hordes continued to move in closer.
“Can you pull the truck forward, Boss?” Wombat yelled to Snake as he ran toward the front. “I think that equipment is pressing back against the door, since we’re on an incline. Can you get her pointed downhill?”
“Can do,” Snake replied, shifting the truck back into gear. “Hang on boys.”
Doune gritted his teeth, wondering if any of his equipment had broken in the back. They didn’t need to be piling a bunch of people on top of it, either.
Wombat heard a hiss behind him and swung around quickly, machete ready for action. He only hesitated long enough to make sure it was one of the undead before easily burying his weapon into the rotting creature’s head. Once the body dropped to the ground, truly dead, Wombat had to step on it to pry the machete back out and then there were more of them. Swinging hard at the next one, he was able to take its head with a single blow, which always made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. The head was still alive and snapping at him as it hit the ground and bounced. He took aim and sent it flying with a perfect kick, much to the amusement of Wolf.
“Quit playing around down there,” the older biker said from the roof with a grin.
“Sorry,” Wombat said sheepishly, jabbing his machete through the eye of another one. “I haven’t played football since high school and I kind of miss it.”
“Soccer,” said Wolf. “I keep telling you, that ain’t football.”
Wombat just laughed, turning to face yet another of the ghouls.
“You’ll have to climb up,” Fish told the woman. “This door ain’t opening.”
“Get up there, Ginny,” her husband said, hurrying over. “I’ll hand the baby up.”
She started to protest, but the look in his eyes caused her to comply. They hurried to the front of the truck where she was able to climb onto the hood before taking the baby from her husband.
“Brian, behind you,” she yelled.
Her husband turned and clubbed a dead woman over the head, watching her slump to the ground as another replaced her.
“Time to go,” Wombat yelled, hurrying over to join them. He turned and split another head open, pulling his machete free with some effort. “Too many of them.”
Brian climbed up onto the roof easily with Fish and the other two bikers following. Wombat finally pulled his pistol and began to pick off the closest ones. Those on the roof were doing the same but the numbers were growing.
“Wombat!” Wolf yelled. “Get your butt up here.”
“Yeah, I’d like to do that, really,” he yelled up, pausing to put a bullet into the eye socket of what had once been a boy scout. “Just trying to figure out how to do it without getting pulled right back down.”
The only way he could keep the growing crowd back was to continue shooting them. He knew that if he turned to climb onto the truck, they’d grab him.
Wolf turned to the others.
“Guys, we need to lay down some heavy fire to give him a few seconds to get up here. Everybody down to this end.”
Positions were shifted with the family going toward the back of the truck while the bikers all moved to the front.
Wolf yelled, “You get ready to move the second you have a chance.”
“Sure thing,” Wombat said, firing off another shot. The snipers were still picking off the closer ones but the circle was closing in. The biker was growing tired but he dared not slow down in his efforts. He aimed the pistol at an approa
ching ghoul but when he pulled the trigger, all he heard was a click. He switched to his machete to finish the job. With the extra help on the front of the truck, a small area was soon cleared and Wolf thought that Wombat had a chance of making it up; a slim chance.
“Now,” he yelled down to the other biker. “Get up here!”
There were several of the undead still grabbing for the biker, but the shooters on top of the truck were dropping them before they had the chance to reach Wombat. The biker whirled around and launched himself onto the hood of the truck. He moved fast but not fast enough. One of them grabbed his ankle and pulled his leg out from under him. As he was falling onto the hood, Wombat twisted his body and slashed down hard, severing the hand at the wrist. He kicked it away before scooting back against the windshield and finally getting to his feet again. Before making his way up to the roof, he grinned at Doune and Snake through the windshield.
“Well, that was fun,” he said, collapsing onto the roof.
One of the others pounded his fist on the top of the cab to let Snake they were ready to go.
“Hold on to the chains,” Wolf told the newcomers. Chains had been bolted down the length of the roof on both sides. “The ride might get a little rough.”
Brian grabbed the two kids and had them lay down flat. He held them with one arm and the chain with the other.
“This is going to be tricky,” Snake said, as they moved down the street. Every time he hit one of the dead, there was a loud thump that made him wonder what kind of damage was being done to the truck.
Nick, on the other hand, was more concerned about his equipment in the back. Eventually they managed to leave the horde of undead behind, but Snake knew that the creatures would end up near the hospital eventually, unless something else caught their attention along the way.
The road was clear of obstacles, aside from a few more infected that wandered into their path, which Snake quickly dispatched with his bumper.
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