“Where the hell are we going?”
“Anywhere but here,” Joe shouted, rounding the car again and grabbing her by the wrist. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Joe scanned the street left and right. Between him and Baily, most of the zombies coming from the north near the van were slow. Their odds were better heading in that direction. He wanted to take the car, but Baily had the keys. He didn't think he could get Noel into the blood bath that covered the car’s interior anyway. With a firm grip on Noel’s wrist and at least half a dozen plastic bracelets, Joe pulled her away from the patrol car and toward the van. With one foot in front of the other and his pistol aimed to kill, he only took shots when necessary. Already realizing that head shots would do nothing to slow them down; he aimed for the kneecaps as he ran. With each shot, legs pivoted in a bloody display of flesh and bone fireworks. These things, these creatures didn’t seem to exhibit any sense of pain. He cringed with each pull of the trigger.
Finally reaching the street corner just past the white van, Joe took an immediate right down the side street. He turned back firing three more shots into the crowd and then picked up his pace. From behind, at least thirty ravenous cannibals both slow and fast, were closing the distance.
“Let go of me,” Noel panted as they ran. “You’re hurting my arm.”
Joe didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to escape. She pulled against him, trying to break free from his grip. He looked back, but not at her. A few runners appeared around the street corner directly in front. Joe let go of Noel and took his pistol in both hands. With his footing firm and his grip steady, he took aim. The gun kicked in his hands and the bullet sent the lead ghoul to the ground. He fired again and again. Two more down. Then he waited. With his weapon still at the ready, he waited, expecting more ghouls to pour out from the street corner. His prediction had been right. Four more brutally grotesque figures joined in the chase. With arms raised and angst in their frantic voices, three rushed forward. The fourth of the group slowly shambled in pursuit. Joe fired three shots. Heads jittered back as blood and mucus sprayed from their backsides, sending each creature down momentarily.
As Joe aimed on the fourth, much slower monster, Noel grabbed him by the arm. His shot went wide, ricocheting off the metallic stop sign at the street corner.
“Forget’em!” Noel shouted, trying to pull Joe away. “We’re going to run out of ammo. Then what? Let’s get the hell out of here and find somewhere to hide or steal a fucking car or something!”
Joe glared at her with stern eyes. He had hardly ever missed a shot… ever. It was then that he came back to reality and realized that Noel was right. They were outnumbered and he needed to focus on staying alive rather than going commando. He checked his hip. There was one full clip left and he knew he would have to make it last.
“All right…” He said, watching the ghouls he had just shot start to get up.
“What the hell do we do?”
“You know how to hotwire a car?”
Noel’s expression confirmed that she did not.
“Well, the precinct is all the way across town from here. Initially I would say we head there. But that’s too risky. Let’s just find somewhere close by that we can hold up until we figure out what the hell is going on. Maybe we can reach someone that does.”
“Like who…,” Noel grimaced.
“Hell if I know. The National Guard or the reserves or something. Anybody.” Joe looked back at the ghouls slowly closing in. “We’ll figure it all out once we get out of the open!”
She nodded in agreement then started running again. With Joe in the lead, Noel did her best to keep up. He was a much faster runner than she was. With the night sky swallowing up the street corners and creeping places, they ran down block after block on edge, fearing that something or someone would jump out at any moment. Their footsteps were loud against the pavement, echoing in the darkness. Before long, they found themselves no longer on the main street and were in the back streets of the Clarksburg’s neighborhoods. Surrounded by homes and fenced in properties, Joe looked for any sign of life and hope. But there were none. Had he seen a house light on or someone moving about beyond closed curtains, he would have stopped instantly to seek refuge. There was none of that.
Clarksburg at this point felt like a ghost town. Noel started to feel fatigue in her legs. They burned with throbbing fire.
“I… I can’t keep this up,” Noel gasped.
“Come on… We can’t stop now.” Joe looked back, slowing down.
“Let’s just pick somewhere and get out of sight.” Noel’s hands fell to her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “Any place is as good as any, right?”
“I guess so,” Joe said looking around.
Before them was the Clarksburg high school, and beyond that, a small glowing cross peeked out over its high buildings. Joe was never much for religion or the fanatics that came along with it, but the first thing he thought of seeing a church, was the word sanctuary. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like just as good a place as any. At least the light was on. Maybe that meant that someone would be there.
“Come on,” he said looking back at Noel, knowing good and well that she didn’t have much left in her for running. “Just another block, I promise.”
They started jogging again, a little slower this time for Noel’s sake. Sticking close to the school building as they skirted across the lot, they did their best to keep to the shadows.
The night was still young, and just beginning for Noel and Joe.
EIGHT
Tom was starting to grow very weary of the constant banging against the church's double doors. The hinges rattled as the two ghouls outside persistently pleaded to be let in. They had been at it for quite some time and didn’t seem like they would be letting up any time soon. By now, there could be more. Tom didn’t know and he didn’t want to find out either. He tried ignoring their insistent banging and bellowing calls.
It wasn’t working.
“… and I promise, we will make things right.” He had been praying, his focus broken. “Would you please shut up! I'm trying to talk to God for you. Maybe if you had spent more time in here, you wouldn’t be out there now!” He shouted, frustrated at the dead outside.
His impatient ramblings only ensured them of his location, making them grow more excited. Their banging and determined flailing grew even more resolute. Truly irritated, Tom slammed his fist into the pew’s soft velvet cushion. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Had the rapture happened leaving him here all alone to suffer and perish with the wicked? Is that what it had come down to? Deep down, Tom knew that he had been destined for something great, but not this. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be home with his Father and Lord. He wasn’t up for the challenge. And besides, if this truly was the end times and the true rapture, it was nothing like what he expected. Those people out there were something straight from hell. Not from this world.
Tom sat in silence for a moment hoping to hear God. Then it clicked, making him laugh. He grabbed the Bible at his side and flipped through the many pages to the back of the book. It took a minute to find what he was looking for, but once he did, he smiled and laughed some more. As he read the words before him, he thought of the man’s skull that he had obliterated earlier and how even after death, he rose again for revenge.
“In those days men will seek death and will not find it; they will desire to die, and death will flee from them.” He looked up having read a passage from Revelations. “Is this it, God? Is this what you meant by these words? Nothing can kill them, can it? But why, God… Why? Why have you forsaken me like Christ in this place? I’ve been faithful. I’ve come in here every Sunday for the last ten plus years, speaking your word and your will. If anyone deserved to be taken before all of this, it’s me. But, never the less. Your will be done in Heaven as it is on Earth. Let it be your will and not mine.”
Tom closed the book, laying it at his side on the pew. He looked aro
und taking in the church’s four walls. This had been the church his grandfather built, his father pastored, and now he was its caretaker and soul speaker. A lot had happened here while growing from a young boy. He looked to the pulpit, reflecting on the many sermons he had preached in his days. He thought of all the people who had left a few years back when that new church opened across town. He glanced at the five stained glass windows that lined the wall on either side of the pews. He had gotten a good deal when he had them installed, just after taking over for his father.
He had never been able to match his father’s fiery sermons on Sunday mornings. Tom grimaced, feeling like that was a large part of the church's issues. A major reason as to why so many members had fallen to the wayside after his father had passed away. All he wanted was to measure up to his old man’s successes.
He sighed, stood to his feet, and walked up onto the stage.
Behind the pulpit was a large wooden cross hanging on the wall. The plush red carpeting that ran along the floors ran up the steps all the way to the back. It was a perfect match for the padding that they had decided to use for the pews. Around the cross on both sides was one large stained glass mural of light beams. The glass was perfectly placed making the cross look as if it were illuminated by God’s glory. It was a beautiful sight when the sun fell, shown dead center. But now, in the pitch black of night, there was no light from outside seeping in. The glass mural looked eerie and bleak like his fallen friends outside at the door.
With his hand resting on the wooden podium like he had done more than a thousand times, Tom stared down the empty pews. The doors at the end shook, fists pounded violently against them. Although he had stood in that very spot countless times, he could never say he had ever done it wearing sweatpants… or shirtless for that matter. The thought made him giggle. He smiled, thinking up the different reactions he would have gotten from some of the church members had he been caught preaching in his current wardrobe. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair and clenched the cross around his neck. If God had him stay behind, after the rapture, then it was for a reason. And he was determined to figure out what that reason was.
Closing his eyes, hands still firm on the podium, he prayed “Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name. Your Kingdom come, your will be done, on Earth as in Heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For the Kingdom, the power and the glory are yours. Now and forever. Give me strength this day. I honestly can’t say I know why you would leave me and take so many others. Please, God. Give me a sign... Amen.”
Practically on cue, the report of gunfire echoed outside. Startled, Tom opened his eyes, focused on the double doors before him. He swallowed hard, not realizing that his teeth were grinding. He stood frozen for a moment, and then another shot rang out, instantly splintering a dime-sized hole into one of the doors. Something slammed hard against the door. Another shot went off. He ducked low behind the pulpit.
“This is God’s house,” he shouted. “Leave now for the wrath of the Lord is at hand!”
Tom was surprised to hear someone actually shout something back. Another shot went off followed by an abrupt slam against the doors. Then the pounding started up again. But it was different. More controlled. More human.
“Open up!” A man shouted, between the beating fists. “We’ve got company!”
“Go away!” Tom insisted.
“Come on, man. Let us in. We got some of those things tailing us!”
The pounding continued.
“Open the damn door or we’re going to break it down!” A female demanded.
Two more shots went off.
Tom clinched the necklace in his fist wondering what he should do. For all he knew, these people were crazed just like all the rest. It made sense. Anyone not taken up as a part of the rapture were without God’s mercy. And for that, they probably wanted in to kill him and burn the place down. As he sat contemplating his options, the pounding outside grew more aggressive.
He had no time before the decision was made for him. Three quick burst of gunfire sent wood chips flying off the doors, as they swung open. A short police officer led with a weapon in hand, a girl following behind. Their expressions were frantic with fear. The unexpected guests had triggered the alarm system with their anxious entry. A high, pulsating squeal filled the air.
“Help us block this door!” the policeman yelled above the alarm, aiming his gun outside and firing off a few more shots.
The moans of the monsters rose in the distance as the policeman fired. Tom saw a figure out in the parking lot fall. What was going on here was just mad. How could any of this be happening? These people were defiling God’s holy place.
“Hey, he’s talking to you, dude!” The satanic looking girl said while trying to shove a pew in front of the double doors. “You think we can’t see you hiding up there on the stage? Get your ass over here and help me move this!”
Her hair was cut strange and all of her clothes were black as were her lips and eyes. Tom’s stomach turned. He had only seen people like her in the Mall a few towns over and had never liked the feelings he got from them. They always looked on him with judging eyes. Like they knew he was God’s warrior.
“Get over here, man!” The cop shouted, holstering his gun and slamming the double doors shut. “Help us move these pews. They’re going to get in if we don’t…”
The doors shook on their hinges, and the first of many ghouls reached in. Joe leaned against the door, shoving the mangled hand back out. He closed it, leaning against it with all of his weight. Noel was too weak, too small to move the large wooden seat across the thick red carpet. Joe tried to reach out and help, but the hinges shook hard, almost pulling from the door facing.
Tom breathed heavily. He didn’t know the girl or her cop friend. Maybe they weren’t like the two monsters that had chased him into the church. Maybe they were his reason for being left behind. Maybe God had set it forth for him to help these two find what they were looking for. He let go of the cross around his neck and stepped out from behind the podium.
“I’m… I’m Pastor Tom…”
“No offense pal, but now’s not the time for introductions.” Joe waved him over. “Help her move that pew over here. We need to barricade this door!”
The doors kicked open a little, pushing Joe away. Two pale, blood covered hands reached in. Joe stepped away, letting it open all the way. Two zombies lumbered into the church, their bloody bodies leaking into the red carpet. Joe yanked his pistol free and fired. It did nothing, the safety had accidently been engaged.
“Fuck…,” Joe said, looking down to remove the safety.
The lead ghoul fell on Joe making him fall to the floor. Noel screamed, while darting from the entryway. The loud report of Joe’s gun echoed inside the church. The ghoul on top of him went limp. He aimed the gun at the door, hitting the second creature right between the eyes as it rushed in. Its head kicked back, a quarter-sized hole blown out. Blood dripped down its nose. Its legs buckled and the lifeless body dropped to the carpet. Joe slid out from under the rancid, unmoving corpse.
“Help me move these outside before…”
“Before they get back up?” Tom said, stepping forward to help push the two bodies outside.
“Yeah…” Joe cringed, grabbing one of the bodies by the legs.
The two men grabbed each body, throwing them to the steps outside. After they tossed out the second corpse, Joe looked out into the church’s parking lot and beyond. More of the undead were coming. The alarm acted like a beacon giving away their location.
Joe stepped back inside shutting the doors. In a matter of minutes, they had five pews piled up on one another to secure them. Joe still felt a little uneasy about the barricade and recommended that they move the piano that was perched atop the stage to the back of the church.
“That’s not going to do any good,” Tom said. “It’s on
wheels.”
“Good…” Noel said. “It will be easy to move. Once we get it over here, who said it’s going to still need the wheels?”
Without the old man’s consent, Noel and Joe rushed over to the piano and pushed it off the stage.
“Be careful with that,” Tom insisted. “That piano is older than both of you put together!”
“No offense, dude.” Noel pulled her black hair from her face as she pushed the piano. “Either help us or get the hell out of the aisle. You’re in the way!”
The best leaders lead by serving, Tom nodded.
He stepped aside letting the piano pass and then jumped behind it, helping his new friends push it toward the door. Its wheels were stiff as they rolled against the carpet. Reaching the door, Joe leaned against the piano with everything he had.
Initially, Tom grimaced at the idea of damaging such a wonderful family heirloom, but life is more important than any material possession. Tom pushed harder. The piano tipped forward and crashed down hard against the stack of pews. The sound of colliding keys and the piano’s insides jittered about as the large instrument rested on its side, becoming a part of the barricade.
All three of them slumped to the carpet. The pounding at the door was starting to grow. The alarm continued to beep its loud waves of pulsating irritation.
“That thing was fucking heavy…” Noel took a breath, catching a look from their new friend. “Sorry… I mean… freaking heavy.”
Tom ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, you’re telling me. I haven’t moved that thing in probably five years.”
Tom was about to say something else, but Joe grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Before we really get into all of this, can we please do something about that noise? That alarm is only attracting more unwanted attention. There is no telling how far that sound reaches into the neighborhood.”
“My Lord… Of course… of course…” Tom stood to his feet, walking over to a small booth by the door.
Behind the booth was a soundboard for the church’s small sound system along with a computer and lighting switches. The little nook was the church’s electrical heart, so to speak. On the wall at the far side of the booth, Tom flipped open a plastic lid and pressed a few buttons. Sliding the lid closed, the alarm was no more.
Rancid: A Zombie Novel Page 9