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Rancid: A Zombie Novel

Page 12

by P. A. Douglas


  Joe stepped forward to help her to her feet.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” she groaned from a little carpet burn on the knees. “I kind of blanked out when you started shooting.”

  “No big deal.” Joe holstered his firearm. “Here, help me move this couch in front of the door. We need to get back on the move as fast as we can. They know we’re in here and it’s only a matter of time before they decide to come crashing in through one of the windows.”

  The sudden bash at the door startled Noel into action. The pounding fists came much sooner than she had expected. Frantic, she helped move the couch. In three quick strides, they had it in place. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would have to do.

  “Should we do something about the windows?” Noel asked, terrified by the idea that one would shatter at any moment.

  “Not really enough time. We need to get those keys to the truck and get the hell out of here before the house is totally overrun.”

  Joe and Noel made their way into the kitchen, feeling it a little safer with the lack of windows.

  “Where did Tom go?”

  “I saw him go down the hall,” Joe said. “I think he went to get the keys and to change. Just give him a second.”

  “You make it sound like no big deal.” Noel found a seat at the bar by the refrigerator. “You do realize those things are going to get in here any moment?”

  “Just calm down, girl. Yes, I realize that, but we still need to keep our cool. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off isn’t going to help anything.”

  “Yeah…”

  Joe found a seat next to her and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Aside from the banging at the front door, which was starting to become a regular sound, they could hear Tom shuffling through things in one of the rooms. They looked around taking in the feel of the holy man’s house. It was clean and well kept. Noel pulled a large Bible to her, thumbing the pages.

  “What do you think of Tom, anyway?”

  “Ehh…” Noel opened the book. “I don’t know. Seems cool to me. Honestly, I am used to people like him being super judgmental. Tom doesn’t seem that way. He seems honest. I like that about him.”

  “Yeah, I can agree with that.” Joe rested both elbows on the bar, still looking around. “He means well for, sure.”

  “Definitely,” Noel agreed. “So do you think what Tom was saying is true? The end times and stuff?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think? You seem to have been thinking about it.”

  “A little bit, I guess. What if the Christians were taken up and we are left here to suffer forever? You know… that thing Tom said. That we will seek death and not find it. It makes sense. Everybody that dies is just waking back up!”

  “That is true, Noel…” Joe put his hand around her. “But how does that explain what happened to you and me at the cemetery. How does that explain the dead coming out of their graves? It’s not that I don’t believe the end-times are possible… It’s just that my parents were church goers and because of that, I read a lot of that book. I don’t recall anything about the dead coming to life and eating everybody.”

  “John six-fifty six.” Tom interrupted.

  “What?”

  “He who drinks my blood and eats my flesh abides in me and I in him.”

  Joe gave Tom a disdained look. “That doesn’t count, Tom. Eating Jesus’ flesh and the dead coming back and ravaging on us is nowhere near the same.”

  “But it’s still in there…” Tom laughed, stepping into the kitchen.

  With the asinine grin across his face, Tom waved the truck keys in the air. He was wearing a white shirt with the words John 3:16 in bold print. The shirt was tucked into his loose fit jeans and nicely topped off with the black suspenders. His belly poked out over his belt. In his other hand was a golf club.

  Noel busted out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” Noel said. “Those suspenders look pretty sweet.”

  “Oh? Would you rather I go change into my spandex pants and dye my hair green?”

  Tom was hoping for her to laugh some more from the comment. She didn’t. Her head went low and all she could do was think of Jared and his silly green hair. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, and shoved the holy book away from her.

  “What did I say?” Tom mouthed to Joe.

  Joe shrugged.

  “Well here, Noel. I thought you might feel better with this.”

  She looked up to see Tom handing her the baseball bat, no longer covered in gore.

  “I even cleaned it up for you.”

  She forced a smile. “Thanks…”

  “Never have been great at golf, but I’m feeling like I’ve got a lucky strike a comin’.” Tom lifted the club accidently bumping it to the ceiling.

  Noel’s smile returned and Joe laughed as dust fell in Tom’s eyes.

  “Enough horseplay. Let’s get going before we regret it.” Joe reached out for the keys. “No offense, but I’m driving.”

  Luckily, the truck was parked inside the garage. The garage was attached to the house. They didn’t need to go outside to get to it, which explained why Joe hadn’t seen it when they ran up to the house earlier. The cab was a tighter squeeze than Joe would have liked. Noel gave him a stern look, having somehow managed to still get stuck in the middle although she had clearly called the window seat. With Joe driving, Tom was too tall to take the center seat. His legs would have gotten in the way of the gearshift. The car smelled of pine and mothballs. Neither Joe nor Noel was surprised when Noel had to move a Bible aside before she could sit down. The upholstery was worn and cracked loose in areas by years of sun exposure. Although old, the red truck cranked up with ease which made Joe feel good about their trip. The tank was full just as Tom had promised; another plus.

  Turning on the headlights, Joe nodded at Tom. He reached over Noel clicking the garage door opener on the visor. The door creaked and groaned its electrical protest as it slowly rose revealing more than one set of anxious legs. The garage door jittered as it lifted. The motor groaned against the pressing bodies.

  “Let’s send ‘em back to hell!” Tom grinned.

  With the door fully elevated, five mutilated and mangled figures raced forward, colliding with the front bumper of Tom’s truck. Their features with illuminated by the headlights showing a tattered mess of bloodied gore. Noel jumped in her seat at their cries. Joe reached between her legs, knocking the shifter into first. The vehicle bucked, then jumped forward catching traction. Five ghouls instantly became two as the truck sent three to the ground. Rolling over their bodies, the truck bounced about as it moved forward. The sound of bones and meaty pulp reached their ears as they rolled over the dead. The other two that remained held tight to the hood. Shoving into second gear, Joe pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

  The truck raced out and into the street where more of the dead were waiting. Joe had been right. That short amount of time that the church alarm had been on wasn’t a good thing. It had attracted an overwhelming number of runners. As he swerved, trying to shake the two zombies off the hood, his eyes went wide with fear.

  The street was crowded with active bodies.

  Having been to many hardcore and metal shows with Jared, Noel looked out at the street and could instantly tell how many were chasing toward the truck. On several occasions, Jared had lost his share of ten-dollar bets to her for guessing what the turnout was at some of the shows. She had been amazing when it came to guessing head counts.

  Looking at the overwhelming horde, she whispered, “Good God. There’s got to be eighty of them…”

  “Well, let’s not stick around and let it turn into a hundred!” Joe groaned, gripping tighter on the wheel and shifted into third gear.

  The truck picked up speed in a collision of bodies. The sudden jarring impact sent one of the hood riders to the ground, but the other held firm trying to climb its way up the front of the t
ruck. It snarled with bloody, menacing teeth. The truck shook violently as is became swallowed by a wave of pressing arms and beating fists. Determined not to let up, Joe dropped it back into second and gave it everything the little truck had. Bodies were pushed aside as the truck rushed through the crowd. For a brief moment, Joe thought that with the help of the mob, the zombie still holding tight to the hood would be pulled away. But that didn’t happen. Breaking through the horde, the creature still held firm. The truck broke free from their growing numbers, picking up speed after shifting gears and heading down the narrow suburban street.

  Noel cringed; finally taking a breath, she looked in the rearview mirror. More than half of the dead they had just plowed through were in hot pursuit. She was thankful that the truck was much faster than they were. Ahead of the truck, a large cluster of ghouls was closing in. The herd was much smaller. The truck passed out of their reach. Finally, easing up emotionally, she looked down at her right hand realizing that she had been holding onto Tom’s arm. Looking from her hand to him, Tom smiled. When she let go, his arm went from white to red, then back to its natural color. She hadn’t realized she had squeezed him so hard. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “It’s alright,” he nodded, rubbing at the bruised limb.

  Suddenly the truck turned hard right and then regained control lining back out on the road. Noel screamed, looking up at the street. The creature was still on the hood trying to climb toward the cab. Its blood covered arms and hands smeared the hood as it clawed its way forward.

  “My bad,” Joe hissed. “Trying to shake this damn thing.”

  The truck slowed. Joe put the truck in neutral, popping the clutch. With no ghouls in sight, the truck slowly rolled to a stop. Joe took out his handgun, rolled down the window, and aimed.

  “Get the hell off of my truck!” The loud report made the gun kick in his grip.

  The shot hit the creature in the face, sending a spatter of blood both out the front and the back of its head. Brain and matted hair blew out the back and the right eye exploded. The ghoul slumped limp with a loud thump on top of the hood. Joe looked around checking the street for zombies. He didn’t see any. He looked at Noel and Tom wearily, then opened the door stepping out. Grabbing the immobilized ghoul by the jeans, he pulled it from the hood. The body fell flaccid to the road. Joe didn’t waste any time climbing back into the truck and getting it back into gear. As the truck picked up speed and the hood rider finally taken care of, they headed for the police station as planned. Before turning on one of the adjacent roads, Noel looked in the rearview mirror and what she saw was at this point not at all surprising. The creature that Joe had just shot was working its way to its feet.

  The GMC turned left down the side street toward the main streets of downtown Clarksburg. With the neighborhoods slowly giving way to small mom and pop shops, the passengers were quickly reminded of the mayhem that had so quickly engulfed their little town. Tom, on the other hand, had not yet taken sight of these terrible things. He gasped, finally realizing how bad things had gotten so quickly.

  It was Tom that was the first one to finally break the silence.

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but… What do you think we are going to gain from going to the police station? Things are obviously really bad here. Because of that, I don’t want to waste any time that would be better spent trying to find my wife.”

  With his eyes on the road and a strong grip on the wheel, Joe said, “Something like this doesn’t just happen overnight without someone knowing something about it.”

  “So…” Noel mumbled.

  “I just think that,” Joe continued, swerving around zombies in the street. “There’s really no reason why we should have lost connection with June back at the precinct. I think something’s up.”

  “What do you mean?” Noel asked. “Of course, the police station could have lost contact with you. This is a small town, Joe. The station was probably overrun with cannibals just like the rest of town. You didn’t get through to June because she was too busy eating somebody!”

  Joe sighed.

  “She does have a pretty good point.” Tom frowned. “But so do you. I agree… Something like this doesn’t just happen. Either somebody knew it was coming or is behind it. But what in Christ’s holy name could have caused something like this other than God himself?”

  “Man,” Noel breathed. “The human race is pretty screwed up.”

  “Regardless of what’s caused all of this, I hope we find out at the station. And if the station is overrun, hopefully, we can at least get in there and get some firearms.”

  “Then what?” Tom leaned forward looking at Joe.

  “If we can’t figure out what’s going on there, we’re shit out of luck. I guess all there is left to do is get the hell out of town.” Knowing what Tom was thinking, Joe said, “And what better place to go from here than to pick up your wife.”

  Tom smiled. “Okay, good.”

  “I don’t know why you’re smiling. Your wife could be dead!”

  “Noel! Come on.” Joe insisted. “Really?”

  “You know it’s true. I just don’t want him to…”

  The sudden sound of a roaring helicopter cut her off. They all leaned forward trying to look beyond the trucks roof. The night nearly engulfed the black aircraft, but its few blinking lights gave away its location.

  “Man, they’re flying pretty low.” Noel pointed out.

  “Yeah, and it looks like they are headed in the same direction as us.”

  “Think they’re going to the police station too?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. “I haven’t seen a helicopter like that before. Doesn’t look military.”

  “Well… speed this puppy up and see if we can’t figure out where they’re going to land.” Noel demanded. “You’re the one that thinks we should figure out what the hell is going on, Joe. Take some initiative and put the pedal to the metal!”

  As much as Noel liked what she said, because it made her seem like she was on the same page with Joe, she wasn’t. She saw that helicopter as her chance to get as far away from Clarksburg as she could. As much as she missed Jared already, and was worried for her parents, worrying wouldn’t do anything. She needed to get out before it was too late. Even though, none of them really knew what was going on, she felt one thing was certain. The longer they stayed in Clarksburg, the harder it would be to leave.

  Joe kicked it into gear and started down the road, picking up speed. Pushing nearly ninety miles an hour, Joe’s expression showed focus. There were still dead meandering in the streets and off in the distance, doing God knows what. The streets were a blood bath of chaos and destruction. With a firm grip on the wheel and only about four more miles between them and the police station, he hoped with everything that he had, that whoever was in that helicopter was there to help.

  ELEVEN

  Benjamin’s helicopter had no problem landing on top of the police station. The station wasn’t designed to accommodate such landings, but the pilot managed to bring it down just fine. The noise that the helicopter generated while in the air had attracted a lot of undesirable attention from people meandering aimlessly in the streets. With the propellers winding down and the engine off, Benjamin, Chelsea and the pilot all stood at the rooftop’s edge. They looked down at the precinct parking lot and the streets past that.

  “What are they all doing?” Chelsea asked.

  She crossed her arms and huddled lower to stay warm. The wind wasn’t blowing strong, but it was blowing enough to send chills up her spine. With it came the stench of putrescence and rancid bile. She wrinkled her nose against the stench.

  “I don’t like the looks of this at all,” the pilot said, scratching his stubbly chin.

  In the street, more than three dozen people were shuffling their way toward the station. They were coming from all directions. As much as Chelsea knew why they were acting strange, she didn’t under
stand what was wrong with them. Sure, the company had made a mistake by contaminating the river water, but it wasn’t like that was a source of drinking water for Clarksburg. Besides, even if it did mix with the drinking water, people wouldn’t be acting like this. Sure, some upset stomachs and poisonings. But not this. Not battered and maimed disfigurement. It just didn’t make sense. The idea that they were attacking one another didn’t add up either. And if the reports mentioned that, then why weren’t these people attacking each other now. They weren’t attacking each other at all. They were just shuffling around in the street, getting closer to the building. It was as if their minds had turned to mush or something. Directly below, at the police station’s double doors, Chelsea watched as close to twenty men and women were eager to break inside. They pounded against the doors with irritated protest. There was something unnatural about their moaning taunts. It was then she realized those out in the street were making their way over to join in with those at the double doors.

  “Man, what the hell’s wrong with these people anyhow?”

  “They’re being overly dramatic. That’s what!” Benjamin said, patting the pilot on the back. “Let’s just go downstairs… give a little face time and call it a night. I don’t know about the two of you, but there’s no reason why this couldn’t have waited till morning.”

  Chelsea scrunched her nose in disgust. He couldn’t be serious. There was something seriously wrong with these people.

  “Introduce myself to the cleanup crew,” Benjamin said, pointing down at the vans in the parking lot. “Show a little sympathy and face time, then go home. Who’s with me?”

  Down in the parking lot, along with the handful of parked patrol cars, there were two large yellow charter vans. On the side of each van there was a logo of planet Earth. Beneath that were the words Global Waste Extractions. The G.W.E. had been around for a long time cleaning up messes of almost any kind. They had been there for the relief efforts of hurricane Katrina, the BP oil spill off the coast of Florida, the Tsunamis of Japan, and countless other disasters that required cleanup. On more than a dozen occasions, corporate America had called G.W.E. to take care of their messes before anyone ever became aware there even was a mess. They had been there when Universal Electric had a power plant meltdown in Ohio. But no one ever heard about that. No one ever heard about what happened in Georgia with the drilling industry in 2008 either. That’s all because the G.W.E. had done their job; and done it well. Here they were now in the middle of the night in a nowhere town, making the big bucks to clean up other people's mistakes. Benjamin’s mistakes.

 

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