Rancid: A Zombie Novel

by P. A. Douglas

  “Yep… we sure can.” Chelsea sighed as Watts started walking down the hall. “We sure can.”

  “What’s that?” He asked and turned around to face her.

  Chelsea blacked out when the gun went off. The loud report of the revolver rocketed through the room as she squeezed down on the trigger. The gun kicked in her hand exciting the three dead prisoners in their cells. Dane, Tom, and Shots all moaned in harmonious agitation. The doors jolted and jittered against the persistent beating of excited undead fists. Her knees buckled and her vision began to blur. She felt faint. The last thing she saw before total darkness overwhelmed her was blood and meaty tissue exiting from Watts’ throat. His eyes went wide with terror and disbelief. Both hands became covered in crimson as he grabbed at the bloody mangled wound.

  SEVENTEEN

  With pistol at the ready, Joe Montoya ran through the precinct toward Noel’s screams. Had he known the job would have been this demanding, he would have gone to college to become a lawyer. This was just outlandish. The dead returning to life. His partner dying in front of him. He had even shot someone. He’d never even fired his gun before, other than at the range. All of this happening on the first night on patrol.

  With each foot in front of the other, he darted through a set of doors and down the hall toward the lobby. Joe’s heart raced with thoughts of the inevitable. He had seen too much tonight. Had let too much happen to those around him and he wasn’t going to let that be the case with Noel. He came to the front office after turning the corner. He couldn’t help, but think that the lone ghoul in the supply closet had finally broken free, and was only moments away from devouring Noel’s helpless body.

  Joe leaped into the room, while panning the gun back and forth, ready to fire. The room was empty, the supply closet still closed. The door leading to the lobby was partially open. Hammering fist against the doors and ravenous howls of eager entry reached his ears.

  “Noel?”

  “Oh, dear God. Joe!”

  Joe raced into the lobby. The doors leading out into the parking were buckling inward. The desk holding it closed was sliding across the carpet. A dozen bloodied and mangled skeletal hands reached in from outside.

  “We need to go!” Joe shouted.

  He grabbed Noel by the shoulder and tried to pull her away. She didn’t budge.

  “J-Jared’s out there?”

  “Who? What?”

  Before she could answer, the door behind them kicked open. June crashed into the room.

  “I heard some screaming. What happe… Oh my God!” June’s mouth dropped open as her gaze fell upon the massive horde pressing against the entrance to get inside.

  The double doors swung wide open from the mass of bodies. The desk tipped back, and forced Noel to the ground. She screeched out in pain as it pinned her leg beneath.

  Joe dropped to her aid, but before he could pull her free, Jared’s mutilated body climbed over the desk and crashed into him. Joe lost grip on the gun and held the creature’s head at bay to avoid the gnashing teeth. It fought desperately, but Joe’s hold was solid. He fell back into a row of chairs as Jared’s reanimated body wrestled him to the ground. June and Noel both screamed as the horde of undead, rotting bodies slowly shambled into the lobby, trying to climb the large desk in their way. The stench of rancid decay filled the air as they piled in.

  Joe’s eyes watered against the odor as he pushed Jared away. Jared crashed into the wall on the other side of the lobby, but unlike his mangled brethren, he was a runner. He quickly regained his undead footing. Joe took the opportunity to retrieve his pistol, but he hadn’t seen where it had landed.

  Finally, he located the gun under a chair and snatched it up. Before he could aim it at his attacker, the green haired zombie changed course.

  June turned to run, but it was too late. Her attacker was too fast. Jared leaped onto her back in full sprint. June flew forward, and slammed face first to the tile, splashing blood across the floor as her face collided with the cold linoleum. Her nose erupted, filling with blood as cartilage and tissue folded upon impact. Straddling her back, Jared fell on her with gnashing teeth.

  Joe stood, aimed the gun and fired. Jared fell limp onto the obese woman. Meat and torn fabric from June’s back fell loose from his lips. The hole in the back of his head bled out from the bullet entry. Joe turned to help Noel, but she was already at his side, pushing past him to run. Joe looked past her at the double doors. More than five zombies had already made it over the desk and had risen to their feet. The doorway was so thick with bodies that Joe couldn’t see past them. He only saw one dry skin-tight corpse after another. Riddled with worms and festering things, not a single undead ghoul had eyeballs. The years of rotting under the earth had turned them to dust. Joe didn’t know what was worse. Dealing with fresh runners or having to look at the rot festering puss buckets of decay. His throat felt dry as he breathed in the awful aroma that permeated the lobby.

  Noel didn’t stop running. She jumped over Jared’s unmoving body and disappeared around the corner. Joe looked up to see her sprint away in fear. Even though Joe’s shot hit home, blowing out the undead punk’s brains, it didn’t matter. Jared would be up and moving around in minutes.

  Joe ran out of the lobby, closed the door behind him and pushed Jared’s lifeless corpse off June. June’s back had been bitten. Joe sighed at the disheartening sight. She was a good woman. She wasn’t moving, but he could see that she was still breathing. Kneeling closer to check her vital signs, the door behind him rattled. Joe jumped, looking back.

  Joe grimaced, not wanting to leave June behind. But she was out cold and there was no way he could carry her. And besides, it was too late. She was a goner. He looked down and examined the peeled meat and blood on her back.

  “I’m sorry, June.” He said, and stepped away from the shaking door.

  As Joe reached the corner to leave, the bursting wood and shattering framework of the door exploded behind him.

  Over a dozen rot decomposed ghouls fell to the floor on top of June. Joe gasped in horror as he watched them begin to feast. More of them fumbled through the opening to join in on the cannibalistic madness. With rotting boney fingers, they tore through her clothing. As if it were just as easy to peel away, the ghouls tore into her skin pulling at the meaty flesh. June suddenly woke up screaming as the dead feasted on her. Joe watched, as she tried standing to her feet, but the dead were too many. She was overwhelmed. A female zombie reared her head and bit down on June’s thick arm. Blood splashed around the wound as the undead creature thrashed about with her arm in her mouth. Even with her loud screamed, Joe could hear the crunch of meat as the ghoul’s teeth sank deeper into the arm peeling flesh away like dried Play-Doh. June’s skin tore with a wet smack splashing the female thing in the face like red paint from a bursting water balloon. June’s cries started to fade as more than two dozen sets of teeth sank into her body on all sides.

  Joe pushed back the urge to vomit as he looked on. He aimed the pistol into the horde feasting on his co-worker. Dust and black ash erupted from splintering ribs and skulls with each pull of the trigger. With the plume of dust came the pungent odor of death. Joe coughed against the stink. Just when he thought the gagging was going to get the best of him, more zombies piled into the front office from the lobby. June’s body disappeared beneath a wave of eager, hungry bodies. With the dead hovering over her, those still spilling into the room kept moving. They were more interested in Joe as he stood frozen with shock as the blood feast continued.

  Joe broke from his stupor and aimed at the lead zombie as it shuffled across the room toward him. He fired. The bullet landed home. The zombie’s head kicked back in a spray of dust and fragile bones. The jolt must have been too much for its old feeble skeleton. The dead thing’s head fell to the floor. As the head collided with the hard surface, the skull split open. Black sludge poured out. The foul acidic stench was too much. Joe vomited. He looked back up to see the headless body slumped lifeless
to the floor. The head still continued to move. Its teeth gnashed at the air. Then… Then it happened and that was when Joe had enough. The headless thing started to move.

  Joe freaked. Stealing one last look into the room, before he turned to run, more than twenty of the dead filed into the workspace. More followed. It seemed never ending.

  He was done hesitating. He turned and ran.

  Before he even advanced two steps he collided with someone. Expecting maybe Noel, or Chelsea, he was surprised to look up into the pilot’s face.

  “Where the hell is everybody at?” The pilot said. “We’ve got to get goin’ and now!”

  “I know. I know.” Joe took a breath and looked over his shoulder.

  “The parkin’ lot. It’s…” The pilot started to say, but his words were cut short when the first of a massive horde rounded the corner.

  Excited to sense their prey, the dead raised their arms in pursuit. A guttural moan of hunger followed.

  “I know!” Joe shouted again, pushing the pilot the other direction. “They broke through the barricade!”

  “Oh, shit!” The pilot said, turning to follow Joe back the way he’d come. “Where the hell is everybody?”

  “Noel’s not with you?” Joe said in panic, still running.

  “The scary looking girl? No, I didn’t see her when I came down. I dozed off in the helicopter waitin’ on y’all. And then I hears some stuff. And shit man… They’re everywhere. The parking lot is loaded with the fuckers. And I got a say, they looked pretty pissed!”

  “Where else could she have gone? There’s only one way to the roof!” Joe said. “We’ve got to find her and get Chelsea and Mr. Watts.”

  “You can’t be serious? This right here is why we should a left already!”

  “Now’s not the time to argue about it. Let’s just to find the others!” Joe shouted as he rounded the corner and crashed open a set of doors that led farther into the precinct.

  The dead weren’t far behind. Although, they had quickly left them in the dust so to speak, Joe could still hear them. Hear them getting closer. The sounds of their rasping moans filled the station. He could also hear the persistent beating at the back of the precinct. He hoped like hell that the rear door wouldn’t end up giving way like the ones at the front. Although his worries of escape were low with the helicopter on the roof and the pilot at his side, his heart raced with the need to find the girls and the decision of what to do with Watts.

  “Let’s check on Chelsea. Maybe Noel went there?” Joe said.

  Joe stopped for a moment and mulled over the situation. He couldn’t risk what happened to June, happening to the pilot. He looked back the way they had come, listening to their pursuers shuffling through the station. He could hear their countless steps like one large muffled rumbling low to the ground. His brain fired to life with the ‘what if’ of the pilot’s demise. He imagined the pilot’s face ripped into by a dozen gray clammy hands. His thoughts flashed red. Where would they go if that happened? How would they escape? That would be the worse event of the night for sure. More devastating than losing his partner or watching Tom’s eye getting squished by undead fingers.

  “What?” The pilot asked.

  “Do this for me, will you?”

  “What?”

  “I can’t risk losing you. You’re our ticket out of here.” Joe said. “Go to the roof and wait for us.”

  “No argument there!”

  “Listen…” Joe grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt. His stare stern, his grip firm. “Get the chopper running and ready to take flight the second we hit the roof. I don’t want any reason for those things to run us down once we get up there.”

  “Already a head of you, pal.” The pilot said, trying to pull away.

  “And I swear to God above.” If Joe’s eyes were made of fire, they would have burned straight through the pilot. “If you leave us down here... I promise you. Don’t even try me, because I’m serious. If you leave us for anything, I’m going to come after you. Chances are we wouldn’t make it out of here. But mark my word. Dead, alive or undead… so help me, God, I will hunt you down and kill you.”

  The pilot swallowed, clearly getting the point.

  “Now get up there and get things ready.” He shoved the pilot away. “Now go! I’m goanna get the girls and Watts and we’re out of here.”

  The pilot didn’t turn back. He took off, eager to get to the roof. He rounded the corner, and then seconds later disappear.

  Joe heard the door leading to the roof swing open and then slam shut. Satisfied with the decision to send the pilot topside, he stepped back into action. Time was running short. If he took too long to find Noel and get Chelsea and Watts, the dead that were lingering in from the entrance would end up blocking their path to the roof. He couldn’t afford for that to happen. He needed to act fast.

  Backtracking a few paces to the cells, Joe kicked the door open.

  “What the hell happened?” He whispered.

  Chelsea was on the floor with the revolver still in hand. Watts lay closer to Joe on the floor, facing her. He had a large puddle of blood still growing around him on the floor. The dead in their cells were more eager than ever to be let out. Did they realize somehow what was happening outside? Did they realize the station was slowly being overrun?

  Something staggered and then fell to the ground behind Joe. Frantic, he turned and saw nothing. Then, they appeared. Not the rotting undead, but two runners. Unlike the rotting putrid creatures making their way in, these ghouls were fresh with newly acquired wounds. Each one held its individual scars of afterlife. Torn throats and punctured stomachs told Joe more than he wanted to know about how they had died. At first, he feared that the dead at the back of the station had gotten in. That couldn’t be possible. He could still hear them pounding to get in, though. The two mangled figures were probably a part of the horde coming in from the front. And since they were faster and more coordinated, they managed to work their way through the crowd to the front of the pack. That had to be it.

  The lead zombie spotted Joe. It snarled and hissed, pressing toward him. It collided with a desk, but didn’t slow. Papers and a stack of pens and pencils flew across the air momentarily, only to fall to the floor unnoticed. Joe stole a glance back into the cell hall to see Chelsea still lying on the floor by Watts’ bleeding body.

  He turned back to the two aggressors, aimed and fired. The gun jumped in his hand with each rapid squeeze. The bullets tore through the dead with ease. Small pin size holes ripped through the lead ghoul’s chest and shoulders. The closer it got, the tighter he gripped the pistol in his hands. His palms burned and his skin went cold as he watched blood spurt from the zombies as they ran at him.

  “Focus…” He told himself. He had to concentrate. The shots needed to count. He needed to aim higher.

  Adjusting his aim, Joe tried again. He bit down on his lip. Something warm filled his mouth. The lead ghoul was almost on him, the other just behind. The gun kicked. The 9mm’s loud report rang in his ears. The lead ghoul’s head jarred in a violent backwards motion. The dime-sized hole in his head right above the left eye confirmed the shot. Still in full sprint as it took the shot, the body stumbled forward landing inches from Joe’s feet. As it fell to the floor motionless, the second creature came into view. Its mouth was wide and blood and spittle dripped down its chin as it snarled. Joe fired. The shot hit the zombie in the cheek. Blood splashed out, flying across one of the many desks, but the monster still raced forward. He fired again, two sporadic shots. The thing slumped to the ground as the bullets punctured the brain. It might not be dead, but at least it would buy him some time.

  He waited for more runners to suddenly dart around the corner. Nothing happened. Nothing jumped out. The only thing he noticed was the rapid pace of his beating heart. Joe ducked back into the cell hallway to figure out what the hell had happened with Chelsea and Watts.

  “Chelsea…” He whispered, slowly working his way toward her. “C
helsea. Are you okay?”

  She didn’t respond. Joe stopped and leaned down by Watts’ body. Ignoring the fact that he stepped in the puddle of blood, Joe checked for a pulse. Nothing. The back of Watts’ throat was blown out. Bits of cartilage and spinal cord protruded from the back of his neck out of the small bullet hole.

  Shot must have been close range to do that type damage, Joe thought, stepping away from the corpse.

  “Chelsea. Wake up.” He said, shaking her.

  She wasn’t moving. He quickly examined here for cuts, shots, or bites. He didn’t see anything. He shook her again and then looked down the hall, half expecting it to flood with the undead. It didn’t and he was thankful. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hear them. They were getting closer. Their grunts and agitated parade grew louder with each moment he lingered.

  “Fuck,” he said, and then looked at Chelsea. “Wake up!”

  He didn’t have time for any more delay. He picked her up and heaved her over his shoulder. Thankfully, she was much smaller than June. Making a mental note to find out what had happened with Watts, Joe raced down the hall. Her weight pressing him down made it hard to breath. Forcing a deep breath, he repositioned her body so that he could still handle his firearm if necessary. Stepping over the two lifeless zombies that he had just immobilized, Joe made his way across the precinct to the roof. He would have to drop her off at the helicopter and come back for Noel. He didn’t like the idea. Time was running short. But he had no other options.

  Climbing the steps to the roof was no easy task. The stairwell was uncomfortably dark and narrow. Joe knew where the light switch was, but didn’t take the time to turn it on. He just climbed instead. Once he was on the roof he hurriedly took Chelsea inside the helicopter. The rooftop was windy, the propeller blades in full swing. Setting her down inside, he tried telling the pilot that he was going back for Noel, but couldn’t even hear his own voice over the choppers blades. He shrugged, giving the pilot a concerned look, and then turned making his way back downstairs.