Dead Evolution

by Tim Moon

  Revulsion burned the back of his throat. “What the fuck?”

  The he looked around, remembering the other threat. Where are the runners?

  They were closer than before but had swerved and were sprinting full bore towards the beast. Another round of angry shrieks came from the runners. Ben’s grip tightened on his pistol. He raised the weapon and tracked the infected as they ran closer to the truck.

  A thrilling rush of fear and excitement ran through Ben as he witnessed the strangest thing to happen in his life.

  The beast hurled the zombie it had been drinking at the sprinters, knocking down one, and the battle was joined. The remaining three runners scattered around their fallen companion and closed in. The disfigured behemoth swung its meaty fist and smashed a female sprinter like a baseball. Her emaciated body flew ten feet like a rag doll, her dress flapping in the cold air, before it skidded across the pavement. Her body knocked down several of the slow infected and disappeared under the relentless churning of their feet.

  The remaining pair of infected leapt at the beast and began slashing and biting it. A bellow of rage erupted from its throat as it fought back. Ben felt like he was caught in the middle of a dinosaur battle in Jurassic World.

  “Fuck this,” Ben said as he slammed his foot on the gas. He wanted to get away from the madness even as the seed of an idea formed in the back of his mind.

  The truck lurched at the sudden infusion of gasoline and then shot forward, quickly gaining speed. He honked his horn a few times to keep the main group of infected on his trail. When Ben slowed down another block away, he looked back to check their progress. His face contorted at the weird sight. The horde trudged after him, ignoring the battle between the sprinters and the beast. They really were single-minded drones, focused only on pursuing the truck.

  Watching the battle between the infected, Ben latched onto the idea floating in the back of his mind. Holstering his pistol, he backed up the truck. The fight had progressed. One sprinter, wearing a red shirt, ran around the big one, seeming to taunt it. The beast lumbered after it, while also trying to shake the other infected off its back.

  Ben stopped the truck, moved the shifter into neutral and put the e-brake on, but left the engine running. Picking up his rifle from the passenger seat, he slid out of the tall truck. After he had climbed into the bed, Ben steadied himself against the cab in a half-seated position and took aim at the runners. From what he’d seen, the big guy wanted to feed on the dead and that was a-okay with him.

  Through the scope Ben winced at the twisted and deformed face of the beast as it snarled and snapped at the fast zombies. Fresh wounds on its back dripped inky blood freely down its humped back. It didn’t seem overly phased by the scratches.

  Ben took a deep breath, aimed at the infected that was running around the beast and squeezed the trigger. Miss.

  He aimed again and squeezed. The round hit the runner’s shoulder with a satisfying punch that knocked it off balance. Its hand fell to its side, useless. The beast took advantage of the stumble, and roaring its dominance, it wrapped its big arm around the runner’s leg. Beast swung it like a fly swatter, hitting the red shirt runner clinging to its back.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he muttered to himself. And red shirts always die.

  The horde pursued Ben with its usual mindless fervor, but he still had a few minutes before he had to flee. Smiling to himself, Ben watched Beast grab red shirt and rip its head off. It tipped up the body and opened its mouth to catch the sickening fluid that leaked out.

  A nearby snarl brought his attention back to the scene in front of him.

  “Shit,” he hissed, looking around the truck. Stupid mistake.

  Infected were closing in from his side of the street. The first ones reached the tailgate as he jumped over the side board onto the hard pavement below. Both feet stung from the impact and he had to push away an elderly zombie in an ugly orange sweater.

  Several pairs of hands slapped the door as Ben pulled it shut behind him. Faces pressed against the glass, eager to sink their teeth into his flesh. After releasing the e-brake and pulling the shifter into drive, Ben hit the accelerator and sped away. Bodies tumbled when the truck suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He honked the horn as he drove away, long beeps that were sure to entice the undead.

  In all the excitement, Ben nearly sped past Olympia Drive. He pumped the brake and then swerved. The tires screeched against the damp asphalt and the tail shuttered as he made the corner. Honking a few more times for good measure, he slowed down before he disappeared.

  Slowly but surely, the infected trailed behind him. He watched in the rearview mirror until the infected, leading the horde, were within twenty feet. Then he honked the horn and drove down another block or two. He continued this tiresome pattern until he estimated the bulk of the horde had been drawn away from Mill Plain. Time was running out and he wanted to get back before the deadline.

  Just minutes before it passed, Ben drove down the street past SportsMart. Thankfully, the parking lot was clear and all the infected were out of sight. He couldn’t miss the trail of decapitated corpses marking their path. He smiled, grateful for the work of Beast.

  Ben stopped in the intersection and flashed his headlights at the SUVs. A moment later, they both drove towards him. Ben wiped sweat off his brow and turned down the heater. The rush of adrenalin invigorated him. A huge grin lit up his face and he laughed at the insanity of this new world.

  35

  The sun found gaps between the clouds that sent light beams across the sky. The beauty of it was largely lost on Ben’s group as they worked to collect vital gear from SportsMart.

  With more people and more vehicles, they put a sizeable dent in the store’s stock in a fraction of the time it took them last time. Carts full of guns, ammo, camouflaged clothing, and other gear such as knives, maps, and fire starters were hauled to the front and shuttled through the security fence. Oliver did a great job since he was so small. After each load, they packed everything into their three large vehicles.

  Oliver found a camo face mask that he insisted on wearing. Ben liked it, even though it honestly made him look a little frightening. He handed Ben a box of candy bars. Before Ben could pass it on, Oliver managed to snatch one for himself.

  “Slick move, kid,” Ben said with a smile.

  “Let’s stop at Amboy market when we get there and clean the shelves,” Nancy said. “We’ll happy to have this food but it’ll get old after a while.”

  “Whatever is left, we’ll grab it,” Ben said, nodding.

  “We’re all set,” Anuhea said. She wiped sweat off her forehead and leaned against her SUV.

  “How are you doing, Chadwick?” Ben asked.

  “Brilliant,” Chadwick said as he continued to watch for infected.

  “Great, let’s move out.” Ben climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Luring the infected away had worked better than Ben expected. Not even one had come back around. He started the engine and mentally traced the route that would take them to Lake Merwin Shoreline Camp.

  There was no doubt in his mind that I-5 would be packed with abandoned vehicles and infected. He just hoped the other route had not suffered the same fate. Getting a partial tour of Vancouver was bound to be interesting.

  As long as it’s not too interesting, Ben thought with a smirk.

  He didn’t want to fight again for a while. If the lake was how he expected it, they might not have to fight again unless they did raids in town. That would be the life.

  Wind whistled through a gap in the passenger window as he cruised down the road. Driving wasn’t nearly as much fun with no music. No company either. Ben sighed.

  His mind wandered to the date. Was it still November or was it December? It might even be January for all he knew. Not that it mattered. With no work, no appointments, and nowhere to be, the only important measure of time was the daylight hours. He sighed. It would just be nice to keep track of tim
e.

  Houses and buildings whipped by in a blur as they drove north. The street wound its way through town without much hassle. Small clusters of infected could be seen now and then, but none blocked the road. A decent sized horde occupied the Frank Mayor parking lot. Their convoy was gone before the zombies could even react.

  A few sprinters chased them for a few blocks. They weren’t as persistent as the runners Ben had seen in the past and eventually they veered off to chase something else. He had to tamp down his curiosity about what had distracted them. Nothing mattered now except getting food at the market and then getting to the camp.

  Ben quickly grew tired of sitting in silence. Just for kicks, he turned on the radio and scanned the stations. All he found on both AM and FM was static. Not even a hobbyist was out there hijacking the airwaves. Nothing.

  A green and white sign for Lewisville State Park told Ben that they’d soon be crossing the Lewis River, a feature that meant they were getting close to Lake Merwin. He glanced in his mirror and saw the SUVs following along, smooth as can be.

  “Oh shit,” Ben shouted as his foot stomped on the brake.

  His seatbelt dug into his shoulder and the tires squealed in protest. Gear in the back seat flew forward, slamming against the back of Ben’s seat. Everything in the bed shifted with a screech. Ben glanced in the rear view, bracing for impact when the SUVs skidded to a halt behind him. Anuhea swerved into the next lane to avoid hitting his mom, but thankfully none of them crashed.

  Ben sat that for a moment, catching his breath. Just as he had thought things were going well something always happened to make him choke on his heart. He pried his hands off the steering wheel and checked for infected but saw none. He climbed out of the truck and leaned against the side, bent over with his hands on his knees.

  “What the hell was that about?” Anuhea asked as she stepped out of the SUV into the road.

  Ben held a finger up and swallowed hard to keep his stomach from pitching out of his mouth. He looked at the road ahead and at the remains of the bridge they were supposed to drive over. If he hadn’t stopped, he would have dropped to the water below.

  Nancy also joined them in the road with a worried look on her face. “What’s the matter?”

  “The bridge…” Ben said, shaking with adrenaline. “It’s, uh, not in working order, let’s say.”

  Nancy rushed over to Ben and started to rub his back.

  “I’m fine, mom. Thanks.” Ben shrugged her hands off but tried to force a smile, so it didn’t seem rude. “That was a close one.”

  Anuhea stood by the front of the truck.

  “Very close,” she said over her shoulder. “Five more feet and you would have had a quick drop and a hard stop.”

  Nancy walked to stand beside Anuhea and gasped.

  “Sweet Christmas,” she exclaimed. “How did that happen?”

  Ben shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Is there another way to get to the camp?” Anuhea asked.

  “Yeah. We just have to backtrack a little way and hope the bridge over there is still intact.” Ben turned to look at Chadwick and Oliver.

  Chadwick held his hands up in a questioning motion, wondering what they were doing. Oliver must have taken it as a rest stop because he got out of the vehicle and ran to the side of the road to take a leak.

  “Everything okay up there?” Chadwick asked, keeping an eye on Oliver.

  Ben nodded. “The bridge collapsed. We have to go around.”

  Chadwick’s eyebrows rose for a second before he climbed out and walked over to join them.

  “Bloody hell. How did that happen?” Chadwick asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Ben said with a frown. Why did they keep asking him?

  They walked to the edge, or as close to the edge as they dared, and inspected the damage. A ten or fifteen-foot gap in the bridge gave them a view of the river below. Chunks of concrete could be seen far below littering a ledge on the pylon near the water. Pieces of rebar poked out from the edge of the road like fingers ready to snatch you out of the air. Anuhea wasn’t joking, he’d have been screwed if he was a second slower.

  “Look, there are scorch marks,” Anuhea said, pointing at jagged stumps of pillars that used to hold up the section.

  “Scorch marks? What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

  “This was intentional then,” Chadwick said. “Why? And who would have the skills to demolish a bridge?”

  “The military is the most obvious group, but this isn’t a main road. Few people would know or care about it. I suppose it could have been a local,” Ben said.

  “Plenty of veterans live around these parts. Like I said, there are a lot of preppers and the like out here,” Nancy said, giving them a knowing look. “It wouldn’t surprise me if this was part of someone’s survival plan.”

  “That’s mental,” Chadwick muttered.

  “Yeah. Come on, let’s get going.” Ben turned back to his truck.

  Oliver walked up next to him. “Can I ride with you?”

  “Sure,” Ben said with a grin. He opened the door and chuckled at Oliver trying to climb in. He had his Captain America action figure clutched tightly in one hand and couldn’t quite get a leg up on the side board, so Ben grabbed the back of his jacket and lifted him up.

  Motioning to his mom, he said, “Oliver’s riding with me.”

  “Okay, dear. We’ll be right behind you,” she said.

  “Try not to drive off a cliff,” Chadwick said, patting him on the back. “No pressure.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Ben said. “Don’t forget your seatbelt, Oliver.”

  “Aww, I don’t want a seatbelt.”

  “Safety first, little man.”

  “Fine,” Oliver said with a pouty face.

  The road was narrow, so it took four moves to do a three-point turn. He backtracked a few blocks, waited for the others and then turned left. They followed the winding road for a while before turning left again to head north.

  “How are you, Oliver?”

  “I’m hungry,” Oliver said.

  “Didn’t you eat that candy bar earlier?”

  “Yeah, but I’m still hungry.” Oliver stood his action figure on the window sill and played around.

  “You’re a growing boy,” Ben said. “I remember what that’s like.”

  He reached behind the seat, carefully digging through a bag with one hand while keeping his eyes on the road and managed to find what felt like a bag of chips. “Here you go.”

  Oliver set Captain America in the cup holder on the center console and pulled open the chips.

  “Want one?” Oliver asked.

  “Thanks,” Ben said as he reached in for a few.

  Ben turned left, crossing over a little bridge that was thankfully still intact. In a few minutes, they merged back onto the road that they had originally been driving on.

  “Where are we going?” Oliver asked.

  “It’s a really cool place called Lake Merwin. A lot of kids go there in the summer to swim and play.” Ben watched the road intently for any more surprises, always scanning for infected or ambushes. Whoever blew the bridge had to know there was a way around it.

  “Will I have friends to play with?”

  “Uh, well, probably not. Sorry,” Ben said solemnly. “Most of the people in this area are probably gone because of the bad people.”

  Oliver ate the chips, crunching and watching the scenery blur past.

  “I miss Charlotte,” Oliver said with a mouthful of chips.

  “Me too.” Ben glanced at him. His heart ached for the boy.

  Then Oliver’s eyes went wide.

  Ben looked up. A half-dozen fast zombies sprinted out from behind an old barn.

  “Hold on, kid,” he said.

  Slowing down a little, he centered the truck in the road and pulled his pistol from the holster. The first runner leapt onto the hood. Ben slammed on the brakes.

  Oliver squeaked in f
right and his chips exploded all over the dash board. Then another zombie slammed into the truck, clawing at Ben’s side window. He glimpsed another group of walkers shuffling towards them, but they had no hope of catching the convoy unless they stopped.

  “Sorry,” Oliver said.

  “It’s fine,” Ben said, accelerating.

  He shot the zombie through the window. Glass shattered, and a rush of cold air blew into the truck. There was a loud thump in front and he realized he’d hit one of them. The truck bounced over it like a speed-bump. Two runners angled towards the SUVs.

  Anuhea swerved and hit one. She reached out of her window and shot another one.

  There was still one unaccounted for. Ben accelerated, and the two SUVs kept up. He looked around, hoping they’d left it behind.

  Something dark moved in the rear-view mirror. A pale face with coal black eyes stared at him.

  “Fuck!” Ben slammed the brakes again.

  Oliver squealed as his body folded over the seat belt. The zombie slammed its face into the rear window. The boy turned, wincing in pain and saw the infected punching at the window. He screamed even louder.

  Ben accelerated. The infected man swayed backwards but had a grip on the roof. Hopping up, they heard it land on the roof. It crawled and scraped, the metal warped and popped as it adjusted to the creature’s body weight.

  Ben could shoot through the roof, but he didn’t want to waste ammo. Or damage the truck more than necessary. This wasn’t an action flick, and a broken window was bad enough.

  Oliver stared up at the roof, his face contorted in fear.

  “It’s going to get us,” Oliver said, sounding horrified.

  “Never,” Ben said, swerving hard to knock it loose. “I won’t let it hurt y-”

  Then a hand reached in and scratched at Ben’s face. He jerked back as the thing latched onto him. All it had was a hold on his jacket, but it still scared the shit out of him.

  Ben swerved back and forth hard, but somehow the damned thing held on. When he stopped swerving to get a sense of where it was, the infected flopped over the side and started trying to crawl through the window like a god-damned spider. It strained its head towards Ben, gnashing its teeth right next to his ear. Hot breath washed over his cheek and down his neck. Oliver started screaming, which only encouraged the infected.