“What is she doing? What is she doing?” groaned Patrick, as he braced his hands against the inside of the door.
Greta went to the front window and peered through the shade. “Oh, my God, they’re coming!” she cried. “All of the undead are coming over here.”
Dwayne rushed to the window and stood next to her. “Oh, shit, Dad,” he said, “what are we going to do?”
The crazed woman’s cries for food and entrance soon changed to bloodcurdling screams as the first zombies reached her. She spun around, eyes wide with fear, and started pummeling the approaching undead. As they grabbed at her, she turned and attempted to run back to her own house. The poor woman got as far as their front bay window, when the bulk of the undead converged on to her. She was slammed against the house, hands flying up and smashing the panes of glass in the window frame.
Greta began to scream.
While Phyllis Travertini was brought down and ripped apart, Greta’s screams attracted the attention of the zombies and they started banging their hands on the glass also. Fortunately, the front bay window was high enough off the ground that the bottom of the sill was only at shoulder level. But as their hands shattered the glass panes and broke apart the frame, they started reaching their arms in, trying to claw at the unseen people inside. Soon their grasping fingers snagged the blinds in front and ripped them off of their mounts. They came crashing to the floor. The five people inside were now exposed.
“The zombies can see us inside,” Billy gasped.
The snarling and moaning became a roar as the number of undead increased in front of the house. There were now dozens of hands reaching in through the broken windows. As they waved their arms back and forth trying to grasp the people inside, their skin was sliced off by the glass shards still in the frame. Zombies mounted the porch and began to throw themselves against the front door, pounding and smashing against the wood in their urge to get inside.
“Dad,” Dwayne yelled, “what are we going to do?”
Grimly realizing their dire predicament, Patrick looked around frantically. They had to get out. And they had to get out now.
“Take any water and food you can and run to the car in the garage,” Patrick ordered. “Grab anything you need to take, but do it quickly.”
Everyone scrambled to carry water, food and some clothes out to the garage and swiftly pack them in the back of the Toyota Highlander. Patrick ran upstairs and immediately took the two handguns and all of the ammunition. He shoved these into an overnight bag, and then threw some clothes and medicines inside. He knew the two filled gas cans were already inside the SUV. Running back down the stairs, he grabbed the car keys as he raced to the garage.
Dwayne and Greta were already in the garage, throwing bags and cases of water inside. Billy and Erica came in carrying a large trash bag filled with cans of food and boxes of crackers. Patrick checked what was already packed in the car, and then looked at the four teens struggling to lift the heavy bag inside. They had just maneuvered the bulky, overstuffed bag into the hatch when the plastic ripped. Cans went cascading down, bouncing and rolling across the concrete floor.
“Forget about it. Just leave it,” he shouted. “We don’t have any more room. Get inside.” Patrick jumped in the driver seat and started the vehicle. Everyone else piled inside.
“Buckle up,” Patrick said, “this may get bumpy.” Saying a little prayer to himself, Patrick reached up and was about to push the garage remote when Dwayne, who was in the passenger seat, shouted.
“Wait!”
He threw open the door and jumped out. Running to the side, he grabbed his baseball bat, which was leaning against the wall, and then rushed back into the Toyota. Patrick chuckled and they gave each other a quick smile. Reaching up again, he hit the remote. With a whir and a clatter, the garage door began to rise. They could see the legs and feet of several zombies appear as the door noisily rose. The rumbling began to attract others to the opening portal. Patrick could see more coming. He put the SUV in gear.
The second the door cleared the opening, Patrick stepped on the gas. Several zombies had already entered the garage. The Highlander surged out of the door, knocking aside the undead ghouls like so many bowling pins. The SUV bounced, throwing the passengers around, as the tires rode over the zombies that were dragged under the vehicle. The inside of the car rang with the metallic bangs of hands slapping the top and sides. Still surrounded by zombies, Patrick finally hit the street. He spun the wheel and took off down the road as the mass of zombies followed the fleeing vehicle.
As the zombies left the lawn and staggered down the street after them, Phyllis Travertini’s savaged body twitched several times. She was lying in a pool of blood beneath the shattered bay window. Shards of glass covered her mauled body. With a long moan, she sat up. Her arms and face were covered with bite marks and had large pieces missing. As she struggled to haul herself to her feet, a greasy coil of exposed intestine bulged from her her eviscerated abdomen.
Finally erect and on shaky legs, the newly turned zombie staggered across the lawn. She joined the horde of undead marching down the street, entrails dragging behind her.
§ § §
It took several turns before Patrick found himself free from the mass of zombies.
“Where are we going?” cried Dwayne, as they continually swerved to avoid the zombies.
“I don’t know,” shouted his father. “Just away from here.”
Heading south, Patrick edged his way closer to the New York Thruway. He had hoped the southbound lanes would be more maneuverable. He still had dodge the occasional auto accident or zombie interference on the road. About a half hour into their flight he came upon a stalled car. A woman was standing on the road, waving her arms and calling.
“Please! Please! Stop the car. I need help. It’s my family. Help me!”
“Dad,” Erica said, “maybe she really needs help.”
But he just shook his head and continued on. His family. It was all about his family.
Erica sat back in her seat. She looked at everyone else for affirmation, but they nervously avoided her eyes. She retreated into herself. What’s right? What’s wrong? She thought desperately. Is this really what living is all about now? It’s us or them? No one else matters? She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that her father believed it.
As the miles passed, there were now five people in the SUV thinking in completely different terms. Patrick was focused on family. This was now the only important thing and nothing or no one else mattered. Dwayne thought as his father did, but was really still unsure. Erica wondered where the humanity was in the world. She couldn’t believe that it had come to this so soon. She couldn’t believe that this was all that was left. Greta, on the other hand, separated from her natural family, was viewing survival in a smaller and smaller nucleus. Us or them.
§§ §
Mike Shannon sat in his living room rocker with a shotgun across his knees. His wife, Samantha, was upstairs gathering extra bedding for Patrick’s family when they arrived. As he stared out the window, he could see at least four zombies wandering the street. He knew that there would surely be others about. A quarter of a mile down his street, a house was burning furiously.
An hour ago, there was a large explosion and the house there exploded. It was swiftly consumed in flames. This soon spread to the neighbors’ house. Now this was burning rapidly, also. As of yet, no fire trucks had arrived. There were a vast number of large, old trees in this neighborhood and Mike was afraid that they would catch fire also. If that happened, the fire could easily envelop the entire area.
As he watched the street, he could see several more zombies clambering up the road. The fire seems to be driving them here towards us, he thought. His main worry though, was the large community center about a mile off of Route 80. He knew that this was the quarantine center for his immediate area. Being more rural in nature, a few towns were grouped together for the quarantine.
Four days
ago, he was speaking to one of his neighbors who was on the emergency fire squad. He told him that the entire center became overcrowded and that an accident had soon occurred. This led to the release of the entire population of the center; and that by now they had all turned and were zombies. He had told him that they were all lodged in the community center, civic auditorium and the new community theater. He didn’t know if it was intentional or just an accident, but nonetheless, all of the facilities were breached and now several hundred zombies roamed the area. As they fanned out across the neighborhoods, they attracted other zombies to follow.
Not that he was a pessimist or anything, but he knew that he was just sitting here waiting for the inevitable horde to come marching up his street. I just hope Pat gets here before they do, he prayed.
§§§
It was dusk when Patrick arrived at the ramp to the Thruway. He had just turned up the entrance ramp when everything turned black. He hit the brakes in panic.
“Jeez,” Dwayne said from the passenger seat, “What just happened?”
Everyone in the car was spinning their heads around in shock. Patrick slowly drove up the ramp, stopping as soon as he was on the feeder lane.
“Holy…,” he said in awe. “I think this is it. The power finally went out. We’re in a blackout.”
Erica spun her head around. “It’s so dark,” she said. “There isn’t a light to be seen anywhere, even in the distance.”
“This is probably the entire East Coast, I would presume,” Patrick said nodding, “maybe even farther.” They sat in the SUV, alone and afraid, watching the sun go down. It became darker and darker. The Toyota’s headlights came on. Patrick quickly flicked them off.
“Why did you do that, Dad?” Dwayne said.
“As of right now, we are the only light for miles,” Patrick said, looking about warily. “I don’t want us to become a beacon for all the zombies in the entire area.”
Greta said, “We can’t stay here.”
“I am afraid we’ll have to,” Patrick said. “We certainly can’t drive this road at night without headlights. There’s way too many abandoned cars scattered around. I wouldn’t be able to see a thing until I hit them.” Patrick grimaced with the thought of sitting in the dark exposed like this. “We’ll just have to sleep here for the night. Let’s dig into the supplies and grab some food, while we can. Then we’ll have to sleep where we are. At first morning light, we’ll get a fresh start and drive down to Uncle Mike’s house in New Jersey.”
Everyone grumbled uncomfortably, but they all hunkered down for a frightening night, sleeping on the entrance to the New York Thruway. In the blackness around them, they could hear zombie moans echoing through the night.
TheNextMorning,
Wednesday…
The early morning sun shone through the windows of the Toyota Highlander. The occupants stirred and grumbled in the too warm vehicle. They had cracked the windows for air and ventilation, but tight fit and close quarters made for a very fitful sleep.
As Patrick blinked his eyes, he noticed clouds starting to form in the sky. It looked as though they might get rain. He opened his door and got out. Searching the area carefully he saw that, for now, no zombies were in the immediate vicinity. Patrick walked over to the shoulder and saw that there was a gully at the side of the highway. He walked back and opened his door, sticking his head inside.
“Rise and shine, then,” he said, trying for cheer but failing badly.
“I gotta pee,” Dwayne exclaimed.
“Okay,” Patrick instructed, “boys go behind the linen truck over to the left. Girls, you go down into the gully. It’s a bit more private, I think.”
The boys just shrugged and got out of the car, stretching and cracking their necks to relieve the stiffness. Erica and Greta looked to the side and made a face. As they exited the vehicle, Erica wrinkled her nose and sniffed, “Well, this sucks ass.”
Greta looked at her and then giggled. Soon she was laughing heartily.
Erica looked at her, and said, “What?”
Calming down, Greta said, “I never heard that expression before. Sucks ass…that’s funny. And in this case, appropriate, too.”
The genders separated to go their own way and relieve themselves.
As Patrick joined the boys, Billy looked around and said uncomfortably, “I think I have to do more than pee.”
Dwayne rolled his eyes and said, “Just great. Do you need reading material?”
Punching him in the arm, Billy said, “Hardly. I’ve had enough things happen to scare the shit out of me already.”
Laughing at the two of them, Patrick pointed to a white car stalled in shoulder of the fast lane. “Why don’t you go behind that and hang your butt over the guardrail.”
Billy took three steps forward, then turned and said, “Uh, do we have…uhm, toilet paper?”
The three of them looked at each other and said in unison, “Toilet paper!”
Patrick turned and called to the girls, “Hey, do you ladies need toilet paper?”
“We already realized the lack of paper. Don’t worry, there’s some newspaper down here. We’re using the cleanest sheets.”
Patrick turned back to Billy and said with an amused smile, “If it’s good enough for the women, it should be good enough for us. Improvise.”
Five minutes later, Billy appeared again from behind the car buckling up his pants and grumbling.
“Problem?” Dwayne asked.
“Yeah,” replied Billy, “the only paper there was a fast food wrapper. Now my ass smells like a cheeseburger.”
Laughing loudly, Dwayne said, “Home of the Whopper.”
Everyone finished and met back SUV. They opened the back hatch and fished around their hurriedly accumulated supplies for something to eat. They passed out some cookies and water and sat down for their ad hoc breakfast.
Chewing on an Oreo, Dwayne looked at Billy. Barely concealing a large grin, he said casually, “Hey, Billy. Did you wash after wiping?” Then, he burst out laughing. Turning bright red from embarrassment, Billy mumbled curses at his friend.
After they finished eating their meager rations, Patrick looked into the several vehicles around them. All but one were abandoned. That one had a family of three locked inside. The windows were smeared with dried gore from their fingerprints. It was hard to even see inside. But Patrick could see them clawing at the glass and moaning.
All they could salvage from the rest of the empty cars were a couple of bottles of water and two candy bars that had completely melted. Patrick called his brother on his cell phone and told him that they were on their way down to him. They entered the Toyota and continued on their way.
§§§
Mike ended Patrick’s call and turned to Samantha who was standing in the kitchen with him, “Pat and his family on their way to us. Thank God.”
“Anymore word on that mass of zombies from the community center?” Sam asked him.
Shaking his head, Mike said, “No. Jimmy Flynn, on his CB scanner from next-door, told me that he lost contact with the guy he was getting his info from. The last he heard from him was that the guy was going out to see if he could see any sign of them. He did tell me that there is this bunch of thieves breaking into homes around here. It seems that they target the houses that still have zombies inside.”
Sam looked at him in surprise and exclaimed, “What are they, nuts?”
“You’d think,” Mike said. “Their MO, apparently, is to break the front door lock and open it. Then they make noise to bring the zombies out of the house, while they run around, break in the back doors and loot the place. The problem, besides the obvious, is that this only adds more of the undead roaming the streets. These jerks are complete morons.”
“They haven’t been caught yet?” she asked.
Mike chuffed, “Ha, by whom? What police are left are too busy trying to deal with all of the zombies.”
His wife pushed a plate of food in front of him. “Here,
” she said, “the last of the refrigerator remains.”
Looking down, Mike said, “Looks like a very big lunch.”
“It’s all going to go bad real soon,” she said. “Might as well eat it now before it spoils.”
Mike started to eat as she sat joining him. Chewing his food, he thought about the blackout last evening. They were watching the news (now that’s all that was on). The reporters there were casually dressed and most of them looked like they’d been sleeping in their clothes for days.
They had been talking about the increasing amount of brownouts that had been occurring, when the picture suddenly went dead. Two seconds later, the lights went off. Mike quickly got up and looked outside. It was black as far as he could see. The several zombies on the street had become riled up by the sudden change in illumination. They started to moan and look about.
Pandora (Book 5): Behold A Pale Horse Page 20