The car roared to life. As it did, one of the slower zombies from outside got to Simon’s window, but it was feeble enough that it couldn’t do much beyond flail weakly at the window.
Celia put the car into reverse and hit the gas. The zombie at the window fell to the side, and the car knocked another one of the early arrivals to the side. The others were far enough away still that she could get out of the space and throw the car into drive.
She steered with one hand and leaned on the horn with the other. With the abler zombies on their tail, Celia, Simon and their little car pulled out of the garage and back out onto the street. She could see their wrecked car just down the road. Stacy, Michelle, and Erik were either hiding or gone, but she couldn’t take the time to wonder about that in the moment. She turned left, away from her group, and drove just fast enough to keep the zombies trailing her.
“What was that song?” she asked Simon after a few seconds of driving.
Simon looked briefly surprised, then seemed to remember. “It’s called ‘Ain’t She Sweet,’” he said. “This old love song. My dad’s favorite. He used to sing it all the time.”
Celia smiled and pulled a left, with the Z’s following behind her. “It was nice,” she said. “I’d like to hear you sing it again.”
Simon didn’t answer and Celia drove on, putting just a little more distance between them and the Z’s every few feet.
Chapter Three: Abandoned
Michelle hadn’t loved the plan Celia and Simon had cooked up when she had heard it, less still when she had had to watch Erik, now with a weapon and the walkie-talkie, leave them alone at the car knowing there were zombies nearby.
That Michelle had no better suggestion than their plan and that Erik fulfilled his part of the duties without incident did little to make her feel any better. And then, ducked down as low as they could in the car trying to avoid being detected by any zombies just chasing a car, and seeing the two of them exit the parking garage in a vehicle barely big enough for them, let alone Michelle, Stacy, and Erik, and head in the opposite direction trailed by a group of zombies just made her worry more.
They had promised they’d wait, though. Simon had said to give them three minutes. It had been about a minute since Erik had dumped the walkie-talkie, and that had given them time to get a car, but a wrong-sized car and going in the wrong direction. Erik had returned to the car and they had all checked their guns to make sure they were fully loaded, but that was about all they could do. It wasn’t the worst possible first minute, but from Michelle’s perception it was closer to that than the best possible.
Still, they waited. After the slowest of the Z’s turned the corner chasing Celia and Simon, the three of them sat up again, but they refused to talk. Michelle didn’t know what the others had as their rationale for staying silent, but she knew hers — talking wouldn’t take her anywhere good. There was no way talking would lead to her increasing optimism. It would only make her decide things were even worse.
So they waited, and they didn’t talk.
Michelle wasn’t actually tracking the time. The car’s clock was broken, and while Erik had a watch, she wasn’t interested in what it had to say. She didn’t know if she thought her internal clock would tell her when it was three minutes or if someone else was paying more attention. It was just another thing she didn’t want to dwell on; part of an ever-increasing list.
Suddenly there was a sound. Behind them on the road, from the same area where the wrecked truck still sat, there was a scraping sound, like someone lugging a too-heavy sack behind them. Michelle turned, and saw the only thing she figured it could have been — a zombie.
The immediate danger was low. The dragging sound was the result of the zombie’s wounds, as it appeared to be supporting itself almost entirely by its left arm. Both legs were badly chewed and bloody, and while its right arm didn’t have any visible issues, it also wasn’t moving, dragging along next to the body like a piece of toilet paper stuck to a shoe. Its face was focused forward, and it had spotted them in the car, but even at a distance of 15 or 20 feet, it wasn’t going to get to them any time soon, and it certainly wasn’t going to have the element of surprise.
The problem, Michelle knew, was that if one knew they were there, the others would know soon. All the more reason, Michelle figured, that they needed to get a move on. Whatever it was in the zombies’ signal that enabled them to gather together would eventually draw others to where this one was, so even if it wasn’t a threat itself it would become one.
In the moment, though, it meant that Michelle’s timeframe was shrinking. It was one thing to say Simon and Celia had only three minutes, it was another thing altogether for her to drag herself up and move on her leg. But one knew they were there. That started the clock.
Michelle waved into Stacy’s peripheral vision and motioned to look behind the car. Erik, sitting behind Michelle, had already noticed. Stacy’s eyes went wide, but Michelle shushed her and signaled to her to get up. They probably could have spoken — that one zombie was the only one around, and it both already knew they were there and wasn’t a real threat itself — but she didn’t want to play around. Making noise when it seemed safe had almost gotten her killed 20 years earlier.
Stacy nodded, opened her door as quietly as she could, and got up slowly. She walked around the car still holding her midsection carefully as she had for the better part of a day as Erik got up from his seat. Seeing Erik move, the zombie made an eager noise, but it didn’t move any faster than it had because it couldn’t. Stacy circled around the car at the same time Erik got to where Michelle was and held out her hand to help her up. Both Michelle and Erik waved her off, Michelle giving her a stern look. Instead, Michelle reached up to Erik’s shoulder to get up.
The pain was incredible. Michelle had never experienced childbirth so she didn’t have that to compare it to, but she had had gallstones a few years earlier that were so bad they left her on the bathroom floor whimpering. Periodic attacks over the course of a few months finally sent her to a doctor to have her gallbladder removed. That was the worst pain she had ever experienced. But this was close. After her first bit of weight on the ankle, she looked down, legitimately curious if the bone was poking out the side of her leg.
It wasn’t, but it also affirmed in her mind her determination not to look down again. The pain had been like a fire poker when she had put weight on it, and though she hadn’t made any further move in the act of looking down, just seeing the leg made her brain imagine it all over again. She would just lean on Erik and pretend that was the way she was supposed to walk.
“You okay?” Erik whispered as Michelle started to move forward, toward the parking garage. They hadn’t discussed where they were going, but all three seemed to have silently agreed on the destination. Celia and Simon had led at least a large group of the Z’s out of there, so maybe the garage was clear enough for them to take a car themselves if Celia and Simon didn’t make it back.
Michelle didn’t say anything to Erik’s question. She was focusing on ignoring the pain, and she felt like talking would let all the focus escape through her mouth and bring the pain back. She gave the faintest of nods and hopped forward on her right leg. That seemed to be enough for Erik, who moved along beside her, his right arm wrapped around her back and tucked under her right arm, his left hand holding her left arm.
They were moving slow. Stacy, moving slow out of caution, still found herself pulling too far ahead of the other two and doubling back. She had her gun out, as did Michelle, but Michelle didn’t know if she would even be able to fire if the need arose. That would draw her focus, which currently was entirely devoted to not thinking about her ankle. She hoped Stacy could.
Behind them, the zombie on the ground was still moving forward, going perhaps slightly slower than the people. It kept its mission, though, and its eager groans continued, getting louder as it kept seeing its meal ahead of it. Even if the Z’s hadn’t had any sort of connection, psychic or other
wise, the noises the zombies were making would attract any that were nearby.
It was still a fair distance to the garage, at least 200 feet, and for Michelle it felt like miles. She was pouring sweat, grunting with every move, and wanted nothing more than to sit down, maybe drink some vodka or take about seven valium. But with Stacy just ahead of her, she told herself again that she couldn’t give up.
And so she struggled on. She would look around — but never down — every few seconds to see if their follower had attracted any of its mates. They stayed lucky for a while, but with about 30 or 40 yards to go, Michelle heard an extra noise and looked back.
Coming into view behind the wrecked truck, hurrying faster than the people were moving, were three zombies. The healthiest might as well have been a human but for its outstretched arms. It had been a late teen boy and had either been a workout champ or a genetic marvel. Either way, it was moving fast. The other two were further behind it, but they were still moving faster than Michelle could. Michelle looked over to the basketball court that had been across the road from her little side road and saw another four. There was no intimidating specimen like the one sprinting toward them as far as she could tell, and they were much further away, but still, the group was getting bigger.
“They’re here,” she said with some pain, the first words she had spoken since putting Simon and Celia’s plan into action. Just the act of speaking made the pain shoot back up her leg again.
Erik looked back as well, and Michelle could feel his posture stiffen as he saw them coming.
“Look at that big one,” he said in an awed gasp, tightening his grip on Michelle and turning back forward. “We have to hurry.”
Michelle did the best mental math she could and shook her head. “I’ll never get there in time,” she said between deep breaths. She pulled herself from Erik’s arm. “You guys go. Come back and get me if you can.”
“Mich…” Stacy said.
Michelle shook her head. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare just leave me. Go get a car and come get me. I have my gun. I’ll do what I can to survive. Just saying, if I don’t I don’t. You keep going. But if I’m okay and I see you guys drive off without me, I’ll make sure my zombie-self tracks you down.” She tried to smile at that, but through the pain she was pretty sure it came off as a wince. She tried to lower herself down to the curb as slowly as possible, but bailed out of the slow part about halfway down and collapsed. She let out a pained yelp and started to rub her leg. “Go,” she said. “While you can.”
Stacy stared at her for a moment, looking like she wasn’t going to go. Finally, though, she gave a small nod, and she and Erik moved on ahead. Michelle turned her attention back to the zombies coming for them, and even though she had seen the strong one and knew how fast it was moving, she was shocked at how close it already was. The zombie couldn’t have been 50 feet from her and was moving fast. Only its arms being stretched out in front of it and hurting its balance was slowing it down. The zombie had its mouth open, and those black-and-white eyes were staring at Michelle unblinking.
It was almost instinct. Michelle raised her gun and fired. She had been right about the pain. Even raising the gun had caused the pain to shoot up her leg, and it affected her aim, which was never exactly pinpoint-precise to begin with. She hit the zombie, but in the side of the gut, slowing it down a bit but not even bringing it to its knees. Still, it bought her a second to focus her arm, and she shot again. It was a much better shot, into the forehead, and the zombie fell to the ground, but even then it kept moving slightly. It took Michelle a third shot to make it stop. It was all Michelle had to not cry out in pain, and she could feel the sweat pouring down her face.
Michelle looked to Erik and Stacy. The girl had almost stopped to turn back, and Michelle could see she was thinking about coming back to help. “Go!” she said. “There will only be more!” They needed a car more than they needed another gun right then.
Stacy was fully crying at this point, but she nodded again and hurried to catch up with Erik.
Michelle looked back again. The big zombie’s friends were still coming, and they weren’t far away. Michelle raised her gun to fire again, but it was shaking from adrenaline and pain. She tried to blink and re-focus, but the shaking was too much. She wouldn’t be able to reliably shoot anything that was very far from her, so she decided to save her bullets.
Only for a moment, though, as the two zombies were almost to their fallen comrade, and the ones on the basketball court were drawing nearer as well. Michelle had meant what she had said to Stacy, that she wanted them to come back and get her, but she was fairly certain she wasn’t going to win the fight that was in front of her. There were too many of them, and only one of her, and not much of that one at that.
Still, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Michelle raised her gun again, trying to blink off the shakes, when suddenly, a shot rang out from behind her, and the closest zombie to her fell to the ground.
Michelle’s head spun round. Erik was standing just a bit behind her, his gun raised. Stacy wasn’t in sight, but apparently he had come back to help her. Before she could say anything, he aimed again and took down the other zombie that was close. That bought them a few seconds, so he hurried over to Michelle.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Okay?” she echoed. “You’ve been gone 30 seconds. What’s going on? Why are you back?”
Erik knelt down and pulled her arm around his shoulder again, hoisting her to her feet. Michelle cried out in pain as he did. They turned to head toward the garage.
“They’re back,” Erik said. “They were getting into an SUV in the garage. Told me to come back for you.”
No sooner had Erik finished speaking then an old black SUV tore out of the garage, tires squealing as it swerved to the right, toward Michelle and Erik. Michelle imagined she could see the vehicle rock up onto two wheels as it turned, but regardless, it sped toward them.
When it got close, Michelle could see Simon behind the wheel with Stacy in the passenger seat. Simon looked determined, while Stacy still just looked scared. They drove for Michelle and Erik but passed them without stopping. Simon slowed down a little past them and stopped the car. From the backseat, Celia jumped out and immediately started shooting. She looked different to Michelle. Her actions were more confident, more determined. She had always slunk to the back. This time, though, she jumped from the SUV like a cannonball. Simon didn’t join her, running to their abandoned car and digging in the trunk, but Celia had the zombies on the basketball court finished before he returned.
Michelle looked around. The ones from the garage weren’t around. Well off in the distance — far enough away that she couldn’t even tell unquestionably that they were zombies and not humans, though she was pretty sure — were a few forms, but otherwise they appeared to be safe. Simon and Celia got back in the SUV and backed up to where Michelle and Erik were. With some effort, Erik and Simon helped Michelle into the backseat. As she got in, she noticed Celia handing Stacy her gun back. Simon jumped back into the driver’s seat and pulled forward, back to where their car was. He got back out and opened the trunk, grabbing as much of their belongings as he could carry and throwing them in the back of the SUV. Celia joined him at the back of the vehicle and fished out some ammo to reload her gun as Simon worked.
Michelle looked out the car window. The zombie that had started it all, the one pulling itself along by its arm, had gotten past their broken-down car in its pursuit of Michelle and company, but now that they and their car had driven back by it going the other way. It was trying as hard as it could to turn around on its one sad arm, still making its sad little groans. In a way, Michelle felt bad for it. In a different way from how she felt bad for any zombie, that is.
Once everything from the trunk of the car was loaded into the SUV, Simon pulled out his gun and turned to face the crawling zombie.
“Hey,” Michelle said as he did, trying to sound casual. “Don’t shoot any
more. That one won’t catch up with us. Let’s just go.”
Simon looked surprised but shrugged and put his gun away. He and Celia got back in the car, and Simon turned it around so they continued on their original path.
Michelle didn’t really know why she had stopped him from shooting that zombie. She felt empathy toward it, she supposed. It was basically an invalid, watching its more capable counterparts running past as it just kept pushing along. Michelle wasn’t as bad off as it, but she knew that she’d be dead if not for the others now in the car with her.
“How’d you get the bigger car?” Erik asked when they were moving again.
“There’s another entrance on the other block,” Simon said. “We drove a couple blocks away, got them far enough behind us, and circled around. Had some extra sets of keys and matched them as fast as we could.”
Erik nodded, impressed. “That’s pretty well played,” he said. “Good thinking, young man.”
“No, sir,” Simon said, shaking his head. “That plan was Celia’s. I’d be dead now.”
Everybody in the car looked over to Celia, who blushed. Michelle, sitting between her and Erik in the back, patted Celia’s leg. “Good job,” she said.
Celia gave a small nod, but not much else. Simon drove along. Michelle knew she’d have to start giving him directions in short order, but she leaned her head back for a moment. Her leg still hurt like hell. She didn’t know if or when it would ever be a functional leg again. But she could push past that pain. She just didn’t want to wind up like that forgotten zombie on the road behind them — abandoned, not helping anyone, and just dragging itself along until it inevitably died.
After Life | Book 2 | Life After Life Page 23