Rancid: A Zombie Novel

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Rancid: A Zombie Novel Page 5

by P. A. Douglas


  Twelve shots later, Joe’s arm felt numb and his wrist felt warm. The gun clicked empty. His ears rang and his eyes focused on the creature at his feet. For a moment, he thought it had been enough. But it wasn’t.

  The thing started moving again!

  “What the hell is going on?” Joe shouted.

  He looked up to see Baily still taking aim on the approaching figures. Two females and one male shambled forward, filing between headstones and unearthed soil. The lead female was wearing what once was a long flowing gown. Originally white, it was now a dusty rust color. Its majestic bead pattern across the front was reminiscent of something from the nineteen forties. The bottom of the dress was torn, revealing knee caps with the skin peeled away. Her hair was matted and thinning, showing a cracked skull underneath. Clotted grime and pus pooled from her eyes. In her excitement, she lifted her arms toward Joe, bumping into a headstone. The jolt shook her slightly, but she maintained her balance enough to move forward. Just after, her left hand fell to the grass from the wrist. Joe panicked, aiming his pistol and pulling the trigger. Nothing happened. It clicked empty.

  “Reload your weapon, Joe!” Baily pumped and fired a round.

  The dead woman’s dress shredded into pieces, scattering into the wind and pulled away in the night. The woman fell forward as bones, dirt, and dust splashed out behind her onto the other two approaching ghouls, colliding violently with a headstone at her feet. Bones separated from bone, sounding like a set of old wooden chimes as her severed parts came to a rest in the grass. The noise was so great that she might have groaned on impact, but it was too hard to tell amidst the sound of crashing bones against cement and earth. The parts of her that were left intact tried to continue forward, but were not capable of making any progress.

  Stepping past the fallen female, the other woman and dead man shambled forward past her. Stepping on her fragile bones crushed them, and fragments of tissue spurted in the air at their feet.

  Joe’s hands shook with fear as he toyed with his pistol, frantic to reload. Baily kicked the stock of the shotgun open dispensing the two empty shells. So preoccupied by the two ghouls, they didn’t realize that the sounds from their firearms had drawn the attention from a great number of the zombies not yet in old man Benta’s house. Changing direction, they meandered blindly back through the woods and toward the cemetery. Those not yet in the woods were already in hot pursuit and starting to get close enough for the two men to see.

  The men were so flustered that they were oblivious to the growing sound of eager grunts and moans heading toward them from the direction of the woods.

  It finally came to Joe in a flash!

  In training, under high-pressure situations, reloading had always been much easier and he didn’t understand why he was having such trouble with it now. The clip slammed home, bringing its satisfying click to Joe’s ears. Quickly, he stammered to his feet and aimed the pistol at the closest ghoul. But before he could pull the trigger, Baily’s shotgun went off. Startled, he almost dropped the handgun again. He looked at Baily. With the shotgun at his hip, his eyes showed shock. Joe could tell because the man’s eyes were wide, which was uncommon for the squinty eyes of the old man. His crow ’s foot wrinkles on the side of his eyes smoothed for a moment. They returned the second the shotgun went off again. His eyes squinted tight as the gun recoiled, his grip firm.

  “You need to focus!” Baily shouted, starting to reload.

  Joe’s gaze went back to the two ghouls approaching. They weren’t there anymore. Instead, there were just three big piles of rot infested bones squirming with worms and maggots. At first, Joe thought that was all that was moving, but it wasn’t. The bones were too. It was as if they were trying to reconnect with themselves and move forward. Nothing happened though. The bones just rattled around like an agitated infant not yet able to crawl or walk.

  Joe gasped and sighed heavy all in one. He looked to Baily who now had the shotgun reloaded. He imagined that he probably had the same expression as his partner. Baily’s jaw hung in frozen awe.

  “What the hell just happened?” Baily said.

  “I have no idea,” Joe whispered, his focus falling to the ground. “They were dead?”

  “Yeah… I think so, Joe. I think so.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “I wouldn’t think so… But I’ve been wrong before.” Baily’s eyes never left the squirming piles before them. “I don’t imagine it could be anything else but that. You see what they look like. They are dead! Shit… they’re still moving for Christ’s sake.”

  Officer Baily shoved the shotgun forward, pointing its barrel at the things he had just shot. Joe watched, swallowing hard. Acidic leftovers churned in the back of his throat with a burning sensation. He wished they hadn’t stopped at Sonic for those dogs. He pressed his hand against his stomach letting out a belch. It made him feel better for the moment.

  “How in the world could this be happening?”

  “Beats me,” Baily said, still staring.

  “Well, shouldn’t we call this in or something?”

  “And say what, Joe? June isn’t going to believe a word of it. Hell… I wouldn’t even believe a word of it had I not been here to see it. We can’t call this in. Not yet.”

  “And why the hell not, Barrett?” Joe stepped forward, stern and confident. “If all of these graves were dead people coming to life, then somebody has to get back to the station and—”

  “You think I don’t know that, boy?” Baily stepped forward, pushing Joe with the butt of his shotgun. “I’m the one in charge here. Not you. I’m the one with years of field experience. Not you! Or have you already forgotten that? Never address me by my first name. I’ve told you that! It’s Baily… Officer Baily. Got it?”

  Joe nodded, taking a step back. “Yeah, but…”

  “No nothin’! You got that? My little girl is out here somewhere.”

  Joe stood stunned.

  “We can’t just leave her out here.”

  “But…,” Joe started. “How do you even know she’s out here? This is a pretty remote place to end up at in the middle of the night.”

  Waiting for Baily to reply, Joe rattled about with the idea that maybe Baily was talking about a different daughter than the one he had met. Did he have a child buried in this cemetery and the old cop was talking about finding a walking dead person? That was just crazy.

  “I just know… okay!” Baily grunted. “That bug that old man Benta was in back at town.”

  Joe nodded.

  “Well, that was one of her friend’s cars, okay… And, I know that they were together tonight. We have to find them. We just can’t leave them here. We can’t leave her here!” Baily squeezed the shotgun tight, grinding it like he was giving it an Indian burn.

  “Fine…” Joe stepped forward easing the shotgun free from Baily’s clenched fists. “We can scout around out here. That’s fine. But I’m not about to do a damn thing until we call this in. And since you see it so important to remind me that you’re the superior officer, guess who's going to make that call… You!”

  Baily sighed, letting go of the gun.

  They looked silently at one another for a moment or two, and that was when they heard it. The rustling of what had to be more than a dozen footsteps in the high grass was accompanied by one loud and unnatural hum. Joe looked up, following the noise.

  He froze.

  Like the steady hum of a lawn mower as it grew closer, the dead groaned in unison. With the first dozen or so zombies in the lead and less than forty feet away, Joe shoved the shotgun back into Baily’s hands. The dead were uncomfortably closer to the car than either of them. Baily and Joe both gulped as more than a hundred zombies poured from the woods.

  “Move!” a shout rang out. With one foot in front of the other, it took Joe a second to realize that it had been him.

  They needed to get to the car before it was swallowed up by the dead. The last thing he wanted was to end up on foot, wagi
ng war against these creatures so far from town. It would be suicide. With pistol at the ready, he aimed and began to fire. He held his nerve this time, making each shot count as best as it could. With each pull of the trigger, bodies jolted and jittered. His small 9mm was no shotgun. It wasn’t doing much damage, let alone sending any of them to the ground. His third shot hit one zombie square between the eyes. The things head jerked back pretty hard, but that was about it. It didn’t stop coming as bits of its skull splintered into the air.

  Joe jumped across the hood of the car, sliding across to the passenger side. He had always wanted to do that, and now, with the situation around them progressing, he didn’t even enjoy the experience. He was scared out of his ever-loving mind!

  The closest zombie lumbered forward with anticipation, picking up pace. Its arms reached out grabbing Joe’s hand.

  He reared back, kicking out as hard as he could. The brittle creature fell back, its bones folding with the forceful blow. Another ghoul instantly took its place as it fell to the gravel. Decomposing, walking corpses engulfed the car. Joe turned to get the door, and in his panic, could see Baily climbing into the driver’s seat. He heard the door slam shut. Not looking back, he yanked the passenger door open. As he reached back to pull the door shut, a grotesque figure fell in with him. The door slammed on its thin frame, sending dust into the car. More arms began to reach in.

  “Go… go, go!” Joe shouted, trying to keep the creatures at bay.

  The engine roared to life and Baily slammed on the gas. A dozen ghouls collided with the hood, reaching their destination. Gravel and dirt sprayed from the wheels as they connected with the earth. The car sped forward, leaving most of the ghouls behind. But Baily would have to turn around. Aside from the path that led through the woods, there was only the one entrance to the cemetery. As he maneuvered the car while breathing heavily, Joe grunted and wrestled to close the door. The zombie in the car was stuck between him and the door. Its teeth gnashed in front of Joe’s face. Joe did his best to keep the monster at bay with his arms.

  The creature found its moment and came down fast and hard with its mouth wide. Its teeth clenched tight on Joe’s shoulder. Shouting more out of fear than pain, he kicked hard, shoving with all he had. The zombie fell away landing on the pavement. Its head erupted in a putrid explosion as the back tire rolled over it.

  Joe slammed the door shut and the car collided with the still growing horde of dead walkers. The car shook, as bodies collided with the moving vehicle. In seconds, the car was on the road and out of the cemetery. Baily turned off the siren lights, shooting a wide-eye look to Joe.

  “You alright?”

  “Yeah,” Joe winced, grabbing his shoulder. “Damn thing bit down on my two-way.”

  Joe pulled it free from its perch on his shoulder. The radio was practically shattered. No longer useful, he tossed it to the floorboard.

  “Damn things bite hard,” Joe said, trying to force out a smile.

  It never surfaced.

  FIVE

  “We need to keep moving!” Noel grunted, pushing Kelly forward.

  “You didn’t hear all of that shooting?” Kelly whined.

  “That doesn’t matter. We can’t go back that way!”

  “No shit, bro.” Trevor wheezed, feeling dizzy.

  “I think they’re still following us,” Kelly cried, trying to keep up.

  Noel could have sworn that he was right behind her when they had broke away from the house into the back yard earlier. He hadn’t been and it was that sudden yelp that startled her into looking back. His cries sent chills up her spine, and aside from the fact that she felt frozen in terror, she reacted without considering the consequence. Surprised, she felt something within take over.

  Trevor wasn’t looking that great and Noel was glad she went back from him. As she looked him over, the thought of what happened flashed through her mind again.

  She looked up to see Trevor still standing at the back door wrestling with the same creature that she had lashed out at with the kitchen knife. As he struggled, she saw even more zombies reaching the door from inside. Without thinking, Noel had dashed over to help. She didn’t know where the strength came from. By the time she reached the back door to aid her friend, she had a large branch in one hand the size of a baseball bat. The bark was dry and it roughed up her palm as she swung it as hard as she could. The branch snapped in half, sending bits of mulch and wood chips into the air. The zombie that had a hold of Trevor let go, falling back and into the house. She didn’t want to stick around. The thing was already starting to get back up and more of its undead friends were right behind it. They all snarled with excitement the closer they got.

  She snatched Trevor up from the high grass and pulled him away from the house. She saw it, but did her best not to panic. Trevor’s forearm was split wide open and dripping in blood. The wound was so deep that she could see the layers of pulled skin revealing bone. The loose meat wiggled as she pulled him to safety. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her stomach contents down, and managed to pull Trevor more than halfway through the yard before he collapsed to the grass. He pulled her down with him as he fell. She tried with all her might to lift him to his feet, but he wasn’t moving. He looked like he was about to faint and his complexion was pale in the moonlight. She slapped him in the face to keep him from passing out.

  “Come on, Trevor. We can’t do this right now!”

  She looked back at the house, panic gripping her so tight that she lost her breath for a moment. Three zombies were already in the yard, shambling forward and more than a dozen were struggling against one another to be the first through the door and into the yard. The lead ghoul was the one that had taken a chunk of Trevor’s arm. Not only did she beat it with a branch, she also sliced its throat. These things weren’t going to give up. Red plasma pooled from the dead things lips as it shuffled forward, a grin of satisfaction lingering in crimson.

  Trevor wasn’t moving. He was too heavy for her to lift.

  “Kelly… help me!” Noel shouted.

  She looked around but didn’t see her friend. Just when she was about to accept that Kelly had left her high and dry, the blond crashed down at her side to help lift Trevor. With one arm under a shoulder, the girls lifted him and forced him forward. The lead zombie was only a few feet away and would have had them, had they delayed a minute longer. But they moved on just in the nick of time. Jogging as fast as they could, Trevor struggled to find his footing, only pulling his weight every couple of steps. They managed to carry him for half a mile, but it was becoming too much. They weren’t even sure where they were exactly. The yard of the house had led through a small line of dirt roads that veered left and right seemingly forever. But they were persistent in sticking to them.

  It was then that they stopped, no longer able to see their pursuers. Trevor fell to the ground, weak from the loss of blood. Noel felt bad for him, but was thankful for the momentary release. Her shoulder was starting to get sore and tired. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to carry him.

  “What the hell are we doing?” Kelly pulled at her hair looking around. “We’re in the middle of nowhere! Can’t you call someone?”

  “No. My phone is dead,” Noel reminded her. “Being in the middle of nowhere is the least of our worries. Look at Trevor. We need to do something for him. He’s going to bleed to death.”

  And just like that, she remembered. She wasn’t a medic by any means, but it wasn’t rocket science either. She leaned over Trevor, asking Kelly to give her a hand as she lifted him up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need to take his shirt off,” she said, starting to lift it over his head. “I’m going to use it to stop the bleeding. Other than that, I honestly don’t know what else we can do, other than get him to the hospital.”

  With the shirt in hand, she instantly saw what had attracted Kelly to the soon to be ex-boyfriend. He was totally ripped. Taking the shirt in one hand, she
then put one of the sleeves under her foot and tore it free.

  “Hey, that was his favorite shirt,” Kelly protested.

  “Honey, I don’t think he’s going to care one way or the other at this point. Look at him.”

  Kelly shrugged.

  Noel went to wipe the area before she tied the fabric around his arm, but it was pointless. His wound was covered in dirt and grime. The shirt was in just as bad of shape. She brushed it on her jeans then tied it in place. The shirt soaked instantly. Then she tried to coax Trevor into walking on his own.

  “Here… Help me get him to stand up.”

  The two were able to lift him back to his feet.

  “Okay, Trevor. Think you can do this? We can’t carry you. I know you lost a good bit of blood, but it wasn’t that bad. Really…”

  As much as Noel was just trying to encourage him, in a way it was true. It wasn’t the loss of blood that made him so weak. It was the shock and the massive rush of adrenaline from the spark of pain that had him on the verge of passing out. One time, when Noel was jumping on the trampoline with some friends, she fell off and scraped her elbow really bad on some rocks. Just the pain alone from hitting her funny bone was enough to make her want to pass out. So she knew what Trevor was going through… kind of. Now was not the time to lose it. He needed to man up and come back to life, for himself, and for them. There was no telling how far behind those things were.

  “Well,” she said, lightly slapping him on the cheek.

  “I’m like totally cool, you.” Trevor grimaced, clearly still in a lot of pain. He forced back a cough, then said, “Let’s just like get the hell back to town, you know.”

  Noel smiled, happy to see him coming back around and on his feet by himself. Satisfied that he could maintain balance, she left him on his own and scanned the area.

  The dirt road was dark and narrow. The trees were high and thick on both sides. If the way they had come led to that old house, then the way they were going had to lead somewhere. She knew that much. But where was somewhere?

 

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