Event Horizon: Z Is For Zombie Book 2

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Event Horizon: Z Is For Zombie Book 2 Page 4

by catt dahman


  The zeds were beginning to converge on the parking lot, and in a short amount of time, it would be over-run with them. Alex and George would be caught inside the building, and with the glass doors, it would be only a few seconds before the zeds broke in and ripped them to pieces. Julia and George shot at several, nervously waiting.

  “Where are Beth and Jeff?” Julia demanded. “They were behind us.”

  “I saw them go to the other road when those few stepped out…maybe avoiding running them over and messing up the car,” George said, anxiously, waiting for the two.

  “They’d be here by now.”

  “Maybe they found survivors and stopped.”

  “That isn’t protocol, George.” Julia’s eyes were glassy with fear now as she worried over Beth, and cast glances at the door to the office building. “Come on, Alex and Tink.”

  While they always felt anxiety, this was a case of nerves; making them so hyper, they could hardly stand and wait. Everything was taking much too long.

  Julia, watching the doors and watching for Beth, felt her scalp prickle with fear and her stomach tighten. Beth was as close to family as she had left now; George had kindly taken care of her infected parents and cousin, and they had buried them.

  “Go,” George yelled as he launched himself into the Suburban.

  Julia shoved several zombies to the ground with the Explorer, mashing them with a fury that had her screaming at them, as bones snapped and heads popped open. She knew it was dangerous, but she aimed at some and ground them under her tires with satisfaction. She jumped back out as she screeched to a stop.

  Leaning over the top of the vehicle, Julia fired her rifle as Tink and Alex ran out, dodging bodies. Tink almost fell, falling hard to one knee beneath a pair of bleeding zeds, but Alex swore and swung his rifle, using the stock to bash in a skull. Tink’s Remington .700 bounced off a head, and he fell back, off balance, as it splintered.

  “Get up, Tink,” Julia yelled. She was about to run into the middle of the fight to help them.

  Tink lunged upward to spear the creature in its milky, colored eye, the eyeball popping with slimy ooze, and the big splintered end of the gunstock slid into the brain. He gave it a brutal twist as Alex savaged the creature with a hard kick to its head, leaving it to fall, unmoving to the pavement.

  Tink forced himself up, groaning as his joints ached, to bash in another head. His knee was now shooting bolts of lightning pain through him. Old age sucked.

  Alex and Tink jumped in with Julia, as George, in his Suburban, ran over several, smashing them to a pulp before he pulled over so Tink could get into a big Ford truck, which started with a roar. Alex got out beside a second truck, shooting two zeds and then pulling over to Tink’s vehicle. It was like being cowboys: back on their horses.

  Tink told them to go to the school as planned and that he would look for Beth and Jeff. Julia didn’t want to leave him alone, but they knew Len and the rest might need all the help they could get. She still argued.

  As Tink watched them go, he felt sad; for some reason, he didn’t think this was going to turn out well. Whatever had befallen Beth and Jeff, it was done and over by now; Beth and Jeff should have been there. Neither was foolish, but something had happened to them. Since this began, he had never felt so alone, old, and sad.

  The horde was building. They covered the car lot now, moving steadily north while moaning, making Tink want to cover his ears. He drove.

  At first, Tink saw nothing of his friends. Then on another street, he saw something that made him look twice, groaning in dread. Tink was an old man on the wrong side of seventy, tired, and scared half to death most of the time, and now this. Working as a cop had never made him feel this nakedly fearful.

  It wasn’t so much about saving his own skin, although the thought of dying at the teeth of those ghouls and returning to chase other people, almost made him piss his pants, but it was about his friends now. It was about Beth and Jeff. He, George, Thurman, and Benny, had been friends for a half-century. His newer friends were no less important to him.

  Beth reminded him of that actress, Demi somebody, with her long, dark hair, and green eyes. When she smiled, the room lit up.

  Jeff, just a kid, was brave and smart. In fact, they both were brave, selfless, strong, caring, and valuable in this world; without people like them and the rest, there was no hope. People were quick to criticize the younger generation, but from what Tink saw, many were amazing.

  However, he didn’t think he could do much. He wanted to curl up, sleep, and hide. He was too old. He was too tired.

  The Range Rover was upside down, lying just beyond a bent pole, the roof crushed in, a turtle amid trash and a few dead zed bodies. Marks on the pavement showed it had slid quite a ways, leaving paint ground in.

  More of the zeds were shambling about, only a little curious since there was no one to smell or hear. With mild interest, they looked at Tink in the truck. If he used the gun, more would come and surround him, and his gun was shattered, so it wouldn’t be good for much, just for stabbing.

  But he was so tired. With weariness etched on his face, Tink used the truck to catch the zeds: rolling over them, reversing, and rolling over them again so that they would pop and crunch beneath the tires.

  When only two remained standing, he got out and used the rifle’s stock to take them down, poking the end through the eye and deep into the socket and brain, wincing as his joints screamed in protest; his knee throbbed from having fallen in the parking lot. In fact, his whole leg was sore. It was a slow, painful process, but he had to admit that it gave him some satisfaction to take them out slowly, with malice. Pity was gone; he hated these things.

  At the Range Rover, blood was on the windshield, broken glass pushed out from the passenger side, mixing with blood and rubble and what looked like the remains of a fight, amid the trash of the street.

  Paper blew everywhere. Only by luck, did Tink happen to see the end of a rifle showing from the food and supplies, which had spilled all over the vehicle and out of the windows. Someone had been in a hurry to get out and away, and hadn’t been able to find the rifle hidden in all the disorder of supplies.

  It looked as if Jeff had crawled out, cutting himself on the window glass. Big spots of blood were all over.

  On the other side, Tink saw that Beth had crawled out as well, but there was no blood. He looked around and saw nothing. What would they have done? Gone towards the car lot to find the rest, or gone north towards the school? Or maybe, it was something else entirely.

  He wasn’t seeing any clues, but at least one of them was hurt badly, and neither one wanted to use a gun to draw more zeds. There were enough that they would want to get out of the immediate area, but then they should have been just inside a shop, watching for help they knew would come. So where were they?

  From a storefront, a zombie lurched out, moving fast, and Tink felt sick to see a rifle, hanging from one of its mutilated arms. The zombie could only have gotten the gun away from Beth or Jeff, and neither would have handed the zed an easy fight. It meant one or both were dead. It made Tink more worried to know that all his friends had, if one had survived, were small handguns, now. Neither had long guns, and both were on foot, but their packs were gone and presumably with them, and that made him feel a glimmer of hope.

  They’re smart, he reminded himself, but injured. The sight of the gun was taking away his hope.

  “We’d better move.” Tink was almost speechless as four people ran toward them, “Your truck’s cut off.”

  His jaw dropped.

  An African American woman, dressed in a short tan skirt that may have been leather, a strappy top and thigh-high boots, looked like a warrior. She was tall, had high cheekbones, and had intelligent, watchful eyes; her hair was cut to her scalp.She grabbed the rifle from the zed while kicking it backwards with a long leg, tossed the gun to a man with them, and threw her crossbow onto her back. Despite her wild, warrior-look, she moved with grace and held he
r head with class and pride. “We need to scoot, my friend.”

  “Ummm…”

  “Come on, let’s get gone.”

  “I hurt my knee in a fight with them,” Tink said as he tried to move faster, going along with them, not knowing what else to do but follow along.

  “We’ll get ya there, big guy.” The man and another woman braced him between them as they hurried. The warrior woman smiled encouragingly.

  A few doors down, they paused, and Tink was pushed inside with the man who now carried the gun, “Clear it. Try not to shoot.” The dark skinned woman made a motion of her finger before her lips feigned, “Shhh.”

  She swung under a zed’s jaw with a pipe that she grabbed.

  The other woman and a man dropped a few more that were less able to move because they were so damaged from cannibalism. The man chopped off a zed foot and then an arm, and kept piling body parts on the ground.

  Tink was perplexed as they next took the body parts and slung black, clotted blood and rotted flesh around the front of the shop, and then scattered other parts all over the sidewalk. Using gloves, the man ripped through a zed’s stomach with a huge knife; he flung the guts in long trails onto the shop’s glass windows, doors, and sidewalk.

  Tink blinked. He decided all of them were insane and wondered where he should run as the horde of zombies began to catch up to them; there was already no way to safety.

  “I went in the back way.” Coming from the dark back, a young girl called as she joined them in the shop. “All clear. Hi, there.” She smiled.

  “Ummm…”

  The girl giggled, “I know it looks really bad, but there is a method to our madness.”

  “Let’s move. Upstairs.” The African American woman led them up the back stairs where they closed the door quietly and began to pile up furniture. Their movements were economical and practiced. Tink didn’t know what to think now, but didn’t feel he was in danger. He was more perplexed than worried.

  Tink looked around. They had supplies, some melee weapons, and other items in the room. When the door opened, he almost leaped out of his skin, but Beth came out to greet him, hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I must have fallen down the rabbit hole,” Tink whispered.

  “We were almost plowed over by a car, speeding down that street, and I jerked the wheel; we rammed the pole and flipped. Jeff got hurt pretty badly; he wasn’t strapped in. I am okay, but sore.”

  “I was thinking the worst,” Tink told her.

  “I bet so.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” He glanced at the others with suspicion.

  “ Yes, I’m sure. They showed up and helped me with Jeff, and got us up here so we could see how he was, but those damned things started coming, and you came barreling into the middle, so they went to get you.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Appreciate it more if this works. Be glad we have more than a few hidey holes for times like this.” The African American woman smiled at Tink, “Sorry, we acted so oddly, but we were in a hurry; I’m Andromeda; call me Andie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Andie.”

  She introduced Carol, Artie, John, and the girl, Hannah.

  Hannah laughed, “I bet you think we’re totally nuts to be spreading around stinky, zed body parts.”

  “Are you trying to get them not to smell us?” Tink asked, “We wondered if that would work, and it did once when we were holed up. We were in a house; that’s how I met Beth, and they surrounded us. After a while, the dead things kind of stacked up, and the smell was horrible, but they stopped being as interested and pretty much went away.”

  Carol nodded, “It works sometimes; I hope it does this time.”

  “We got your gun back for you, Beth.Andie did, I mean,” Artie said, smiling.

  “Thanks.”

  Tink grimaced, “Saw that gun, and I thought the worst.”

  “If not for these people, it would have been the worst.”

  “Some are going past; keep your fingers crossed,” Andie said, watching through a gap in the curtains. “The faster ones have gone on by us.”

  Hannah folded her legs beneath her while watching Tink, “You’re a big man; what were you before?”

  “Hannah!” Carol said, “We have no manners?”

  “We? You mean, I don’t,” Hannah replied.

  “Well, you aren’t using good manners.”

  She shrugged. “I think being direct is the best option.”

  “This child is running wild,” Carol told the others with an exasperated grimace.

  Hannah wrinkled her nose, “This child,” she mimicked, “has a staggering IQ and an above average survival skill, as well as stellar problem-solving abilities.”

  “Agreed, but some manners never hurt.”

  Hannah ignored her, eyes twinkling, “So, back to you.” She smiled at Tink.

  Tink didn’t mind, “I was a cop a few years back; now, I’m just trying to make it a day longer. Every day.”

  “Cool,” she said. “John, the guts were such a good idea, should do the trick. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “Why, thank you, Hannah.”

  “Hannah and Andie have tons of good ideas and have been keeping us going,” Artie said, “never saw such brainy females who could fight so well.”

  “Are you any good with the bow?”

  Andie smiled at Tink, “I’m okay, I guess.”

  “Yes, she’s fantastic,” John added, “I’m gonna barf.”He was watching the zombies as they moved past, a thousand strong and growing more members as they went, moaning, stinking, snapping, drooling, and evacuating their bowels and bladders as they shambled.

  “Barf quietly,” Andie whispered.

  Hannah giggled, “Barf quietly; she’s so funny. I love Andie.”

  Tink’s eyes watered from the stench. “How’s Jeff?”

  Beth motioned for him to come into the smaller room, if he wanted. She sat down again, having finished some of the stitching on Jeff’s arms and head.

  “He’s hurt, bleeding, and has a concussion; his knee is busted up, one wrist is broken, jaw probably is broken, too, and some teeth lost. The teeth still hurt, too; I can’t get the roots for him.”She didn’t look hopeful. “Leg broken, I think; I don’t know; the zombie just slammed into the front of the SUV, and the car rolled; he crawled out, bleeding, and crying in pain.”

  “But you have a doctor at the hospital?” Hannah pointed out from the doorway, curious.

  “Yes, and it isn’t all that far, if and when the zombies go by, we can try to get him there for help. We should also be helping Len and Kim.”

  “They’ll be worried sick,” Tink said.

  “They will if they survive the horde.” Beth tightened her lips and began covering the torn flesh again with bandages, hoping that Jeff would stop bleeding soon.

  “Don’t worry, Beth,” Hannah told her.

  “Andie?” Artie sprang to his feet.

  She held a hand up to show all was okay. “It was across the street; they pushed a few into a window, and it broke from the pressure of so many bodies; we’re okay.”

  In whispers, Tink told them where they had been the last four weeks, explaining what they had seen and done.

  Carol said they had all been in a truck stop on the edge of town which had finally become over-run with zombies. She had been a waitress; Artie, the cook; and John, a trucker. “But Andie and Hannah, they have odd stories.”

  “It’s not odd…different maybe,” Andie told them.

  “It’s a miracle you are even here, Andie, or that Hannah survived. We had each other, but you two were alone.”

  “Okay, I’m a nut about training with weights and running, so you know why I am so bad-assed. I always did all the survival courses and pushed myself,” Andie laughed. “I’m from Dallas, and one day, my boyfriend of five years, breaks up with me, says he has found a girly-girl, and is in love with her. I was about to beat his a
ss, but then, like I told the others, I felt really calm and knew I wanted to take a little vacation. I needed time to think.”

  “That was before you whipped his ass.” Carol chuckled.

  “Riiight! Okay, so I thought I’d go up to Hot Springs, treat myself to a few days of massages and good food, do some shopping, and hike the trails, just relax.

  I stopped here in a hotel, a seedy one I might add, for the night; I wanted to figure out what was up with the weird news reports and check on the ‘net for information.”

  “And you found out about Red Zeds,” Tink guessed.

  “Sure did. So I hid out, watched, saw a few people; then, I saw the damned Zombies and thought I better get gone.

  Next, I passed by a truck stop, and I saw a whole crowd around the place; I knew it was because survivors were there. I wanted to beat feet right away from there.”

  John talked, “We had hidden, had plenty of food and water, but were fresh out of hope; the world was just…gone, and we were about done in. I guess we would have sat there, waiting for them to break in and eat us, but then…”

  He looked at Andie. “Then…she…Andromeda…came flying across the parking lot, swinging a shovel she had grabbed from the remains of a road work crew. She was yelling like a demon, slamming the shovel into heads, and punching with it; those bastards were dropping like flies, but her adrenaline could only last so long.”

  “It was the most unexpected, amazing thing I have ever seen,” Carol added.

  “We grabbed pipes and sticks, whatever we saw, and ran out to help; screaming along with her,” Artie snickered, “we were such a sorry bunch, but we had hope, and we were pissed off.”

  “Naw, they were tough; they were warriors,” Andie said, “and we killed every single zed in that parking lot.

  Then we packed up after I had eaten about a ton of food and headed this way; we thought, yanno, someone like military would come rescue us, but meanwhile, we could make safe areas and try to help people who needed us.”

  “Seen very many?” Beth asked.

  “We hid from a raider group that got two of our friends, dragged them way over by the hospital,” John said.

 

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