The Zombie Road Omnibus

by David A. Simpson

  “That’s a wild looking RV,” Doug had noted as they passed by their house to hit up the crazy cat lady’s place.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Jessie had said. “They’re old, but they like to camp out. That thing cost as much as a house and is supposed to be able to go anywhere, it’s an Earthroamer.”

  “I’d hate to drive it around town, but I bet it would be great for open road, it’s huge,” Sheila said, but then they were past it and walking up the drive to the cat lady’s house. They saw her through the window before they made it to the door. She was walking around with an awkward gait, limping terribly. As they watched, a cat sprang from the back of the sofa onto her shoulder and dug its claws in. They stood transfixed as it sank its teeth into her neck and tore a piece of flesh off and started chewing. The woman had bloody black holes where her eyes used to be, and part of her nose had been chewed off.

  “Oh my God,” Shelia said, in quiet revulsion. “They’re eating her.”

  They couldn’t look away, it was like watching a train wreck. You simply couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to. Needed to. They stared in shock for a few minutes as the woman stumbled around her living room, ignoring the cats-gone-feral that were slowly whittling away at her. For once, Doug was speechless.

  “Let’s skip this one, too,” Jessie said.

  Their biggest problem was boredom. There wasn’t much to do, other than hitting up houses, and that wasn’t very interesting after about the tenth one. More than once, Doug and Jessie had sort of wished they’d been in detention with Micky Jackson instead of Sheila. Or maybe both of them. They liked Sheila just fine, she was good to have around and a good fighter, but Micky would hook up with anyone. She would’ve played strip poker when they suggested it, not just give them the stink eye. They could think of some pretty fun ways to pass the time with a girl like that.

  After a long day of slaying trolls and orcs and battling spell casting dark elves, they took a bathroom and dinner break. Sheila made macaroni and cheese with canned chicken on the grill, and Jessie shot a few more zombies in the head. They were still trickling in for some reason. Maybe it was the reek of all the dead ones laying around.

  They went back inside to eat, shutting the sliding door and the smell, behind them.

  “Dude, you know what we should do?” Doug asked.

  They looked up from their bowls at him.

  “We should raid a mall,” he smiled broadly.

  They just looked at him.

  “Why?” Sheila asked. “What do we need at a mall that we don’t already have?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, “it would just be fun. Think about it. All those stores. Anything you want. It’s all free!”

  “I saw that movie,” Jessie said, dumping more Parmesan cheese on his chicken cacciatore, as Sheila called it. “It didn’t end well for them.”

  “Yeah, but this virus hit early in the day,” Doug said. “Think about it. The mall wasn’t even open. The only person there would be a security guard, and he probably went home, right?”

  His logic made sense, they had to agree. They’d been raiding houses for days and it was no big deal, if you were careful.

  “I would totally clean out Game Stop,” Gary said, his eyes lighting up. “Even the old Nintendo stuff.”

  “Macy’s has that new Tom Ford perfume,” Sheila sighed. “It smells soooo good. It’s a hundred dollars a bottle, though. I’ve never had any.”

  “There’s a big Sears store,” Jessie said. “We could get a generator and actually play the Xbox.”

  “YES! And let’s swing by Micro World and get those new VR headsets. And a new plasma TV!” Doug was excited at the prospect. Actually, they all were. It was Christmas come early, and there was no limit on the credit card.

  It took some doing to convince Sheila. She was the most sensible one in the group, as she liked to tell herself. If they got a generator, maybe she could get a hot shower. If the boys got their video games, they’d think about them all the time instead of her. She’d seen the way they looked at her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. She knew what was on their minds. A mall trip would be safe, they’d be careful. It wasn’t like it was super dangerous or anything, they’d been going on raids for days and nothing ever happened.

  “Let’s make lists so we don’t forget anything,” Sheila finally said, and the boys all cheered and high-fived as she passed out their Stat Sheet pads.

  “Hey,” Gary said, in all seriousness. “My rehab place is near that mall. You think we could swing by, maybe get those legs if they’re still there?”

  That settled it for them. Maybe they were only dreaming before, but now they had a real reason to go. A serious and important reason. They had to get those mechanical legs for Gary so he wouldn’t be defenseless. Of course, since the mall was only a half mile away, they’d hit it up, too. Jessie wished his dad had left the pickup truck, but the Mercury in the garage would do. It ran great. The old man was a pretty good mechanic, but a terrible body man. It might look rough, but they took it out to cruise nights all the time. Well, they used to. Jessie hadn’t liked going with him for a while now, and had quit going completely a year or so ago. His old man had taught him to drive a stick shift with it. They dumped their dirty dishes into the sink that was overflowing. It was starting to smell, and the spaghetti-o’s they had a few days ago was getting kind of gross, it was looking a little moldy. He pulled those bowls out and put them on top of the mess. A little reminder that he really should try to remember to wash them. They needed to heat up some water on the grill so they could clean them, but he never thought about it when they were cooking. It seemed a waste of propane to fire it up just to wash dishes, they needed to conserve the fuel. The moldy reminder would help him remember when they cooked tomorrow.

  They continued their game, but kept getting sidetracked and adding things to their lists whenever they would think of something new they always wanted, but never had. It was obvious all of it wasn’t going to fit in the car, but they’d worry about that later. Maybe there would be a truck or something on display inside the mall. If there was, the keys had to be there somewhere. They’d figure it out.

  Sheila kept bringing up things she thought might be dangerous. The boys kept shooting her fears down.

  How hard can it be?

  We’ll be safe in the car.

  We’ll pull up to within a few feet of the back doors and pry them open.

  We’ve got guns.

  If anything looks even the littlest bit dangerous, we can always abort the mission and drive back here.

  There won’t even be any zombies in that area, the mall wasn’t open when everybody started changing.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  They made a convincing argument.

  The next morning, a teenager’s idea of morning, they ate cereal with water and Nutella on bread as they went over their plans. It was almost one o’clock, so they had plenty of daylight left.

  It was a simple plan. The best kind. They would drive to the rehab center and get Gary’s new legs. They could toss them in the trunk, it was huge, then drive over to the mall. They would go around back and get in the service doors. Two crowbars were already in the car, and Jessie had tossed in a couple of big hammers, just in case. While they were raiding stores, and having the times of their lives, Gary could play with his new mechanical limbs. He had plenty of room to maneuver and really get good with them. They would all have guns and extra ammo and would just shoot anything that got in the way. They could even spend the night if it got late. There would be loads of stuff to eat from the food court, and the big stores had beds. This was going to be fun.

  Jessie pulled the dangling string from the garage door opener motor to release its lifting gear and hopped in the car. As soon as he had it running, Doug would throw open the door and jump in. The house door was closed, so they would just leave the garage door open. It made for a safe access back to the house when they returned, and
if one of those things happened to be in the garage with them, then they would just have to ventilate its head.

  Jessie pumped the gas pedal twice and hit the key. The engine roared to life, the cackling exhaust from the big block Ford loud in the confined space. Doug flung the garage door up and ran to hop in, but there was no danger. Nothing was waiting for them. Jessie eased out the clutch and they were off, all of them smiling broadly at the prospect of getting out of the house after days of being cooped up and bringing home whatever their hearts desired.

  .

  16

  298 Miles to Go

  Day 10

  They refueled the next morning at a little mom and pop situated at a crossroads as they entered Oklahoma. They didn’t even go in the store. They could see a half dozen zombies pawing at the glass, and nobody thought stocking up on beef jerky was worth the effort. Besides, they looked like they were stinking up the place pretty good and everyone was anxious to make tracks to their new home. They ate up the miles quickly, the long straight roads cutting through the plains were mostly devoid of the undead. They came up on a few running down the road chasing Sara, and they left them in broken heaps in the ditch, no danger to anyone. They avoided Tulsa and Oklahoma City, staying as far away as they could, but the houses were becoming more numerous. They could no longer drive for ten minutes between them and the undead were starting to be a constant presence, running out and attacking the trucks and cars.

  The rigs from the Three Flags took it all in stride, but there were dozens of vehicles they had picked up along the way, and they weren’t armored. For many of them, this was their first time out of their homes. Their first time seeing the undead someplace besides the news programs. The inevitable first wreck happened when someone swerved to avoid running one of them down. Cobb called a halt when he saw what happened from where he was at the rear of the convoy. The undead weren’t plentiful, there were only a handful from a few houses bunched together, and they were quickly put down in a flurry of gunshots.

  Gunny stopped his rig and asked Collins to bring Sara back in. He hopped out, slinging his M-4 over his shoulder, and started walking back to the crash site. The little car was totaled. Or might as well be. The family was all right, just a little shook up. They didn’t have the time or the inclination to fix it, so they tossed all of their belongings into the back of one of the trailers and the family crammed into the bus. They needed to find a less populated route. It was only going to get worse from here. They were going to have to get off of the state roads and onto the county roads. A lot of them were dirt or gravel, but it hadn’t rained in a while and Gunny didn’t see an issue with it. The only problem he could foresee was maybe a bridge with weight restrictions. But even that shouldn’t be a problem. He’d crossed plenty of old bridges with twenty-ton restrictions with his forty-ton truck over the years. They’d hold. It may take them a little longer, they’d be going slower on the dirt roads, but the undead population shouldn’t be a factor. He didn’t want any of the newcomers getting spooked and having another wreck, or having some zombie smash through their windshield and infect them. He felt responsible for these people. It was because of him, and the radio message they’d picked up, that they were here. He couldn’t let any of them die now, so close to the finish line.

  When Sara came riding up, they took a few minutes to stretch their legs and refuel her bike while he pointed out some new routes on the paper maps, and they discussed the pros and cons of each. If they cut through Sulphur Springs, the rest of the way would be clear. It was a fairly good-sized town, but if they hammered through without slowing down, it would be the quickest way to get to the secondary dirt roads. They were getting close, only another hundred or so miles to go. Everyone just wanted the trip to be over. To settle in and start a new phase of their lives. To grieve for their losses, plan their future, and avenge the dead.

  She took off, riding a wheelie past the trucks and with air horns blasting, the rest of them trailed in behind her. There was excited chatter on the CB and the bus. They were almost home. Just one more day of roughing it. All they had to do was clear out a town. Maybe spend a few days cleaning up the dead. They’d heard there would even be electricity once they figured out how to turn it back on. And didn’t they have an electrical engineer with them? And those guys with the bucket truck were coming down once they checked on their families. After the past week of horror, it was finally going to be over. Or at least diminished to a point where they could get back to a sort of normal life. Some of the ladies crammed into the bus with their children were already making plans for a school, much to the excitement of the younger kids, and disgruntlement of the older ones.

  The plan had been to ride right through the center of Sulphur Springs, never letting off the gas. By the time the zombies knew they were there, they’d be long gone. The town had a small river running right through the center of it and if they went around, it would add a lot of miles and some backtracking to get to the next bridge. That was the plan, anyway.

  Sara came over the radio just as the lead trucks were nearing the outskirts of town.

  “There’s no way through!” she shouted, her voice controlled but a little panicky. “They tried to set up road blocks, but the whole town is overrun! I’ve got about a million of them chasing me back across the bridge!”

  Gunny could see the four-lane bridge ahead of them, the only way across the river for miles in either direction. It was a typical structure from the 50s, all steel girders and trusses and repainted a dozen times over the years. Sara came out of an alley on the other side, her knee dragging asphalt as she powered through the turn and started shifting gears, taking each one to the redline. She was bent low over the bars and Gunny could see the first of the undead screaming after her. They were a solid mass, moving at a full run, reaching and keening, the smell of fresh blood driving them into a frenzy. Collins had the map open and was urgently telling her to go South, get out ahead of them on the open road.

  There were too many. There were thousands. The whole damn town was racing straight toward them. Gunny flashed back to when he and Tiny first went out from the Three Flags, and how they were buried under an avalanche of undead. The trucks that were up-armored would be ok, they could plow through, but all of the cars….

  All of the cars would be lost.

  All those people who trusted him to get them safely through. Those husbands and wives. Those teenagers and toddlers. They had believed in him.

  They didn’t have a chance. The horde was halfway across the bridge, leaping and running at inhuman speeds.

  Thousands.

  Thousands upon thousands.

  Gunny dropped two gears and floored it.

  Sara laid the bike low as she came through the turn at the end of the bridge, knee nearly scraping the pavement, then she was grabbing gears and gone, riding it like she stole it. The big Honda darted away, zipping up to 120 in a matter of seconds.

  “You see that red knob?” Gunny yelled to Collins over the roar of the Cat, as he slip shifted another gear, bringing the truck up to 60 miles an hour, black coal pouring out of the stacks.

  “The one that says ‘Danger do not engage while truck is in motion’?” she yelled back.

  “Yep. Get ready to pull it!”

  He brought the truck up to redline and slammed one more gear, hoping this mad idea would somehow work. He was going nearly 70 when he punched the accelerator to the floor and pulled the trolley brake all the way down. The tandems on the trailer instantly locked up, the tires smoking and squealing against the pavement, leaving eight black streaks of rubber. He was at the entrance of the bridge, the horde only a few dozen yards away. He spun the steering wheel all the way to its stop, and the truck slid into a jackknife, the thirty thousand pounds of lumber on the flatbed pushing the tractor into a 90-degree turn. He let go of the trolley brake and yelled for her to, “Pull it! Pull it now!” He grabbed both of the air brake buttons, the tractor and trailer, and popped them an instant befo
re she pulled the fifth wheel release knob. The side of the sleeper crushed in as the trailer swung around, ripping open the side box on his headache rack. Binders and chains spilled loose and added to the chaos being slung free. The tractor began hopping as its brakes locked, barking the tires and jumping violently in an out of control skid. Cans and clothes and everything not bolted down were flying around in the cab as the truck bucked and started to tilt at a precarious angle, the top-heavy load wanting to lay it over. The trailer slipped loose from the jaws of the fifth wheel when it was sideways and began tumbling, gravity and inertia taking over. The straps snapped and it flung its load of fine New England lumber into the oncoming horde, battering them mercilessly with a wall of flying boards. The truck spun around, free from the weight of the trailer, and Gunny tried to slam the tractor brakes button back in so he could regain control, but kept missing. It leaned dangerously, wanting to roll over, the tires on the right side of the rig left the ground and the only thing holding Collins in her place was the seatbelt. They bounced off of the concrete bridge wall, adding more dents to the battered Pete, but it slammed them back down on all ten wheels. They slid along the wall backward, sparks flying, tires smoking and screaming in protest. They finally came to a halt facing back the way they had come. In the mirrors, he could see the bottom of the trailer laying between the girders of the bridge, all 40 feet of it blocking most of the four lanes

  Gunny still had his clutch foot mashed to the floor, still a little bit surprised it had worked. The big Kitty purred, her quiet rumble letting him know he hadn’t torn her up. Hadn’t broken something vital. The rest of the truck he wasn’t so sure about.