The Apocalypse Fugitives

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The Apocalypse Fugitives Page 21

by Peter Meredith


  If it wasn't for all the blood Mindy would only have looked to be sleeping. Deanna envied her. "We can't expect to carry her through a fire and a thousand zombies," she answered Kay. "She'll have to stay here."

  "But she'll die," Kay said.

  "Yeah," Deanna said. "We're all going to die. Maybe she'll go the easiest. Leave her and come on."

  As the smell of burnt hair was so horribly strong in their nostrils Connie tucked her long, wavy brown hair down the back of her shirt before she started down. Deanna was nudged by Joslyn and after tucking her own blonde mane away she followed.

  They made it all of the eight steps to the landing before the heat brewing up from the foyer stopped them with its intensity. Connie couldn't go on. Deanna pushed past, pulling her shirt up to edge of her eyes and holding both arms in front of her face. She made it the bottom step and took in a horrific scene.

  The soldiers were barely beyond the lobby doors and were clearly not going make it to the Humvees. They were surrounded, fighting swarms of zombies at point blank range. They had formed a small circle and were shooting out, but even as she watched a soldier missed his mark, striking a zombie in the face instead of the forehead. The creature ignored the pain and bored in on the soldier and dragged him down. Like a balloon popping the circle failed and the soldiers were attacked on all sides. In seconds there was only a writhing pile from which a few soul-searing screams escaped.

  Deanna pulled her eyes from the horror of it and saw that she and the other women weren't going to live much longer than the men. The fire in the lobby was an inferno and was now spreading to the rest of the church where she saw that it was going to eat the building from the inside out.

  "Go back!" she yelled. She pushed Connie ahead of her and Connie pushed Veronica.

  At the top she found the women crying. "Stop that," Deanna rebuked them. "We still have a chance. Everyone up to the belfry. We can climb down from there to get onto the roof."

  "Then what?" Joslyn demanded. "Is there a way down?"

  "I don't know, all I know is we can't stay here. Connie, go up first, then Kay then Jos. The rest of you follow, but don't be slow and don't linger up there. Veronica, since you and I are the strongest we'll take Mindy, last.

  The bosomy blonde didn't look cool with it, she was red in the face from the heat and looked frazzled and scared to the point of panic, but she held it together. The two hunkered down next to Mindy, breathing through their shirts, waiting as the other seventeen women went up the steep stairs to the belfry. When it was their turn they were both amazed at how light Mindy was. She felt no heavier than a child.

  "It's all the blood she's lost," Veronica said, wiping grey sweat from her eyes. "Are you sure she's even still alive?"

  She was, barely.

  Even as light as she was, Mindy was dead weight and it was a struggle for the two women to carry her up to the belfry. They both sighed with relief when they got to the top and not just because the most difficult part of their task was behind them. The storm clouds Deanna had seen earlier had picked up a breeze and was hurling it out of the west. After the heat and the smoke, the cool fresh air was a blessing.

  Their relief was short lived. Turning in a wide circle, Deanna saw their predicament had not gotten much better. The land around the burning church was a zombie-fest. Thousands and thousands of them were staring up at the stranded women with a hungry look over their usually blank faces.

  "This was a stupid idea," Joslyn said. "It would have been better just to die in the church of smoke inhalation."

  "Shut up," Connie barked. "If you wanna go choke to death we'll boost you back up there. Melanie, Kimmy, help me with Mindy." As gently as possible the unconscious woman was lowered down and then Veronica and Deanna climbed down to the roof.

  "We're screwed," Veronica whispered. The belfry now looked more like a chimney as it belched black smoke.

  "Yeah, you're right about that," Deanna agreed. "We should move to the far end of the church. It'll buy us some time."

  "Maybe twenty minutes by the looks of it," Veronica said. The church was burning from west to east and already the roof beneath their feet was growing uncomfortably hot.

  The group moved to the far end of the building and watched as the steeple and belfry came crashing down a few minutes later, the bell making a final somber donnng! as it landed in the inferno. The rest of the church began to crumble and fall in with great roars and rushes of air.

  Some of the women were crying while a few were staring at the twenty five foot drop to where the zombies were pressing in close. Melanie stood at the edge, looking like she was about to get sick. "If I land on my head, I won't feel anything, right?" she asked.

  "Maybe," Joslyn answered, listlessly.

  "No, don't do anything yet," Deanna said, looking out over the zombies, hoping to see someone coming to save them. "There's got to be something we can do."

  "There isn't," Joslyn spat out. "You and you're stupid ideas killed us."

  "Me!" Deanna cried in outrage. "It was you who refused to put out the fire in the first..."

  "Shut up, the two of you!" Connie yelled stepping between them. "I...I for one am going to go with Melanie's plan. I'm just gonna do a header right off of here. I'm sure it'll be over in a blink. I'm gonna pray first so you two please just shut up and prepare for your own deaths. You don't want to die with bitterness in your hearts."

  The words were wise and so all the women grew silent and they prayed, all except Deanna. She wasn't ready to die, and not just because of the baby growing inside of her. Strangely, in spite of all the pain and death surrounding her in the last day she had felt more alive than she had in years. It felt like her mind had suddenly awakened from a deep, dark sleep, and as it came a wake it brought with it a realization: she was free!

  All her life she had bandied around the clichéd bromide: It's a free country, but only now that she was no longer a sex slave did she truly understand the concept like never before. She knew now why black slaves had risked everything daring the Underground Railroad or why Cubans had set off in open rafts to escape the hell of communism.

  And she didn't want that freedom to end so quickly.

  Deanna prayed, but she didn't pray for forgiveness of her sins and she didn't pray silently. "God, please save us," she yelled, staring up into the black clouds above.

  "Do you mind?" Joslyn demanded. "We are trying to..." she jerked and then looked down at her arm where a raindrop had splattered itself. She looked up—all of them looked up as the clouds opened up and the rain finally came.

  Chapter 22

  Neil Martin

  Southern Illinois

  "They're pissing me off, Neil," Grey said, going to the next car in line, dragging the heavy pneumatic jack behind him. At the bumper he turned it around, slid it under the rear axle and began pumping. The vehicle lifted easily. "I mean why do we have to vote on every little, tedious aspect of our lives? It would be so much easier if everyone just did what I told them to and not debate back and forth endlessly first. It's been three days of raise your hand if…We need people to cook, why can't they just cook? We need gas, so why do we have to vote to go get it? They're making a mockery out of democracy. It's completely idiotic."

  Neil laughed. "That's quite a speech for you. I've never heard you put together more than two sentences in a row before. Unless you were planning some sort of military strike."

  Grey smirked at the truth. "Yeah," he said. "Get on under there. Wait, hold on, where's Jillybean?"

  After having worked their way north, they were finally just east of Cape Girardeau and the weather had turned wet. Neil raised his hand against the rain and squinted. "She's over behind that van. I wonder what she's doing." The little girl was staring in at a van with her hands on her hips; it was one of her "thinking" poses, which usually spelt trouble.

  "I'm afraid to find out," Grey replied. "But she looks safe enough. Speaking of which, you were quite the jackass sending her out to rescue me.
What happened to being a hero?"

  "First, she wasn't supposed to rescue you, she was only supposed to find you and second, why argue with success? It was a decision I felt was right and it turned out to be a good one. You should be thanking me."

  "I suppose so," Grey said without offering any gratitude. Instead he jutted his chin at the underbelly of the car and said, "Stop stalling and get up under there."

  As the smaller of the two, it was Neil's job to crawl under the jacked up cars and pound a nail into the gas tank to drain it. It was a messy job. They had hit hundreds of cars already that afternoon; he stank of gasoline and his arms were like lead. And now that the rain was on them he was miserable. Like a wet rat he slithered under the yawing car. Though the jack was sturdy he always felt certain the cars would come crashing down on him.

  After sliding the catch basin under the tank, Neil took a ten-penny in his left hand and a hammer in his right and began pounding upward. It took only four practiced swings for the nail to pierce the thin metal of the fuel tank and then out came the gas; almost a gallon this time.

  "I wish there was a better way," Neil said, wiping his hands on his corduroys. "Even with Jillybean's method this is taking forever."

  Grey took the catch basin and dumped its contents into a five gallon jerry can. He screwed the lid down tight, helped Neil up and then decompressed the jack. "Yeah, it is," was all he said in reply to Neil's complaint.

  Neil hadn't expected anything more. Grey hefted the can and gave it a shake. "About full. Go on to the next one, I'll be right back."

  For Neil, dragging the pneumatic jack was a chore. It had wheels, certainly, however they were stubby little things guaranteed to get hung up on every little pebble and then it was like dragging an anchor. Huffing and puffing, he made it to the van Jillybean had been playing beside.

  "What's wrong?" he asked her. Her little brow was furrowed.

  "It's Ipes," she said, pointing to the zebra that dangled from a run of yarn that she had around her neck. "He's worried about the River King person. He sells slaves which are actually people you know, and that's what means he's a bad guy. Ipes doesn't trust him, and he won't admit it, but he also is ascared of him."

  Neil, who was more afraid of the van falling on him that the River King, shrugged. "We only have two choices: daring rescue where someone might die or buying Sadie back with gas and bullets. It makes sense to choose the latter."

  Her little nose wrinkled in puzzlement. "Huh? I don't understand you. Why would you choose a ladder?"

  "No latter, lat-ter," Neil said. "It means the second or last of the choices you were given."

  "Oooh," Jillybean said, drawing out the syllable. "I get it now. You know, I guess Ipes is right about me. He says I'm not so smart and really I think he would know."

  "What? You not smart? Hold...on," Neil grunted. He had just turned the jack around and was trying to manhandle it under the van, but once again the wheels weren't turning. He strained for a few seconds before Jillybean squatted down to look.

  "The wheel right there is locked," she said, matter-of-factly. "On that silver thing it says: lock, unlock, and the do-jobbie is pointing at the lock side. I don't think it will move very well like that."

  Neil made a face at the lever; he hadn't even noticed it until she said something. "For someone who isn't smart you sure make me feel stupid sometimes."

  "Sorry, I don't mean to do that. Ipse says it would be nice if I stop pointing out all your mistakes."

  "I really make that many?" he asked, resting his arms on the jack's handle. In answer she shrugged and made a face that she probably hoped would convey: not so much, but in fact conveyed the opposite. "I guess compared to someone like you I might not seem so smart, which brings me back to the question: why do you think you're not smart?"

  "There's lots of stuff I don't know nothing about. Like how does that jack work? And how does the van steer? I know you turn the wheel but how is it connected to the wheels? And how come really heavy boats float and how do planes fly? You see? I need to go back to school or I need books or something."

  "What are you girls gabbing about?" Grey asked, returning with a new five gallon jerry can. The filled ones were lined up in the back of the pickup truck they had brought with them instead of the Humvee.

  "He's not a girl," Jillybean said.

  "It's a figure of speech," Grey grunted. He handed the jerry can to Neil. "Let's get crackin'. These cans won't fill themselves."

  Neil started hammering again.

  The afternoon stretched on and on as the three worked continuously. The men went at it nonstop as Jillybean kept watch for zombies sitting under an umbrella, though in truth there weren't many zombies to keep watch for and she did little besides sit atop different cars, reading. At one point Grey noticed she was reading a book that was nearly as big as she was.

  "What the hell is that?" he asked in his usual semi-pleasant growl.

  She held it up, her skinny arms shaking with the effort. "It's an encyclopedia. Ipes says I'll be smart once I read them all. And this…" She grabbed another book to show Captain Grey, "This is a dictionary. It's what means a book that tells me what the words in the first book mean."

  "Oh," Grey said. "You go have fun with them."

  "Hold on, where'd you get them?" Neil asked. He wasn't exactly curious; he was tired and needed a few minutes to rest. Grey was cracking the whip, driven to gather the supplies needed to rescue Sadie. He was pushing Neil past the point of endurance. With just the two of them at it, he was exhausted after three days of constant work and travel.

  The other members of their group had voted not to put their efforts into rescuing Sadie. To them she was a complete stranger and warranted all the consideration strangers were accorded: exactly nothing. In the three days since they had joined together with the people from the Floating Island, they had become very tribal. Everyone within the tribe was family; everyone outside of it was looked on with either suspicion or fear. And this included Sadie.

  On the plus side of the ledger, they too were working hard. They were gathering supplies to pay the River King's fee to cross the Mississippi. As well they were watching over Eve and the wounded, the latter consisted of Amy Gates and two other women who had been so abused that their minds weren't right.

  Jillybean had insisted on coming with Grey and Neil, stating she would be a "big help." So for her help was minimal to say the least.

  Neil was getting a break and that was something. "That house right down the street," Jillybean said, pointing. "The green one. It was nicer inside, all 'cept it had this poor dead boy who smelled real bad awful. I didn't touch nothing of his but his sister had all sorts of stuff which is why I also gotted these new pants and this shirt. Pink is my favorite color, you know." Including a pink baseball cap that was too big for her head she was pink top to bottom.

  "You're very pretty," Neil told her, hoping she would go on and on for at least five more minutes.

  She grinned. "Ipes says I have too much pink on, but I don't think you can ever get too much."

  Captain Grey landed a heavy hand on Neil's shoulder. "You got that right," he said to Jillybean before she could take another breath. To Neil he growled, "Let's go hit that street. There's got to be a hundred cars just rusting there. I'll go get the pickup so we don't have to haul the jerry cans so far."

  They went to work and after an hour when they were only half way through Grey had an idea, a poor one in Neil's opinion. "This is going too slow. It would be faster if you had your own jack, Neil. There was an auto parts store right down the street. I'll go get you one and drag it back. You can use mine in the mean time." He started away, saying over his shoulder, "You don't have to thank me."

  Neil was too tired and wet to make an attempt at a snappy comeback. "Uh-huh," was all he could manage. After checking to make sure the lock was off the jack he hauled the heavy device to the next car in line and slid it under. He started pumping the handle up and down and then stopped as h
e heard rumbling. "Is that thunder?" he asked Jillybean.

  At some point she had added a yellow raincoat to her wardrobe and looked perfectly comfortable. "I don't know. Do you know this word: prep-a-red?" she asked, using three syllables. "Is that a type of red like maroon is a type of red?"

  "No, the word is pronounced prepared. It means to be ready. Maybe those books are a little too advanced for you. We can find a library…" He paused as he heard the same rumble, only this time it came with a snort that was mechanical in origin.

  Neil turned to see an immense army truck churning down the street, coming right at them. It slowed as it came up on their pickup truck, thirty yards away. A soldier hopped out of the back and was pawing through their belongings before he even knew what was going on.

  Indignant, Neil started forward only to trip over the fuel catch basin. He went down in a heap and by the time he got up again he had two guns pointing his way. "Look, don't shoot. That's my stuff."

  The soldier's eyes went wide. "You can…you can talk?"

  Neil was confused for all of a second before he realized what he looked like. Always nervous of the beasts, he had dressed as a zombie as a precaution, while Grey wore his usual fatigues and Jillybean was in her "little girl" attire. Neil glanced back for her and realized she was gone. And so was Captain Grey! He was all alone as soldiers began piling out of the army truck.

  He held his hands, halfway up and said, "Yes, I can talk. I'm just dressed like this as camouflage. You know, to blend in. Now, if you don't mind, that's my stuff."

  There were fifteen soldiers out now. All were female, most were armed and none seemed at all pleasant. The tallest of them looked Neil over with a sharp eye and a sneer. "I think we'll decide whose stuff this is, as soon as we decide about you. Turn around and put your hands in the air."

  Doing his best impression of Captain Grey, Neil scowled and said, "You have no right…" The women started to advance with her pistol leveled at his head. The rain slid down her unnoticed and her hand was steady as a rock; she very much seemed to mean business. "Ok, fine," Neil said. "Calm down. You don't have to be like this."

 

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