She grabbed the thing by its greasy hair and tried to pull it off as it took another bite. She didn’t even feel her ripping skin being torn loose; her mind was a red cloud of mind-numbing terror. She tried to run but it tangled in her legs and she fell. It lost its grip and she crabbed away kicking at its face when it clawed after her. The kids were all screaming louder than her and the thing turned its gaze towards them then reversed direction, dragging itself back to the van.
“NO” Kerry yelled when she saw what it was after and jumped to her feet. She ran faster than it and threw herself in the drivers seat, slamming the door on the reaching hands. Bones crunched and she hit the gas, dragging the thing and leaving a long, bloody trail on the road. She had a death grip on the wheel and tried to shush the kids, maneuver around the fallen branches, control the pain starting to throb in her leg and calm her racing heart. Steam still poured out of the broken radiator. She was dead and she knew it.
Oh my God. The kids. She was at the verge of panic. Of completely freaking out. She was gonna turn, she’d seen her neighbors do it. She wouldn’t eat her own flesh and blood. She had to keep moving. Get them to some kind of safe place, some empty house where they might be okay. The kids were crying, ignoring the Disney movie and her leg was trembling, making it hard to keep steady pressure on the gas pedal. She had three chunks of it missing and in that things belly. It was bloody but not spurting. At least she wouldn’t die of blood loss. She could feel her leg growing colder, an iciness spreading through it. The virus. She wondered how much time she had. Probably not much. She had to protect the children, make sure she didn’t kill them. She was a little amazed at how clear her mind was working. She would have guessed she’d be a jabbering, incoherent wreck unable to think from fear but she was calm now. She knew she only had a few minutes to act and her babies would live or die based on what she did in those minutes.
She slowed the van and spoke calmly to the kids.
“Caleb, honey. Go in the back of the van and get mommy that rope. There’s a big coil of it in Daddy’s pack.”
When he brought it up to her, he started crying again when he saw her shredded pants and bloody leg but the coldness was moving faster, she didn’t have time to coddle him. She lashed her right hand to the steering wheel with the stout cord as she talked, telling them they all had to be brave. She pushed the old van and the temperature gauge continued its slow creep towards the red line.
She wasn’t sure if she could last until they made it to the supermarket and if she did, they wouldn’t be going anywhere else. Chris was dead. She knew it with certainty now. Those things moved so fast, one had killed her in just a split second. She had to find a house the kids could hide in, hopefully one with enough food to last them a while. She felt feverish, nauseous and the skull pounding throb of the worst headache she’d ever experienced. She kept talking to them while choking back the urge to vomit. Kept telling them they were going to have to take care of themselves now. In the few minutes they had she tried to tell them everything she could, any little thing that could help them live.
“Listen to me. Mommy is sick. I may act crazy soon. I can’t hurt you though. See I have my hand tied up. When that happens, I want you to run. There are scary people out there. Stay away from them. Do you hear me? Stay away from them. Look for nice people. Tell them you need help. Tell them I got sick and you need a place to stay. Do you understand?”
“I want my Mommy,” Clara cried.
“I know sweetie. I know, but Mommy’s not here and I need you to listen to me. Can you do that for Aunt Kerry?”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
She battled another wave of nausea, pressed the accelerator harder as the steam from the cracked radiator billowed from underneath the hood and tried to find a promising house. Something off the road and sturdy. She told herself it would be okay. Kids were tough. If she found them shelter and food, they’d be all right. They’d figure it out.
She didn’t believe it. They were seven years old. They would be dead in a week if not sooner and the tears rolling down her face wasn’t from the pain of the bites or knowing she was dying. It was for them.
She saw it then. Her children’s salvation. Faint smoke off in the distance. Someone was still alive; someone had a fire burning.
22
New Arrivals
It was a lazy Sunday and everyone was loosely gathered around the campfire. Chores were done and the twins were working with their polar bears using fish as treats for well performed maneuvers. The pair had quickly adapted to the saddles they had rigged up.
Vanessa and Ziggy were playing a game. She’d blown up some balloons and would hit them with her laser pointer. Ziggy waited to see which one was next and would attack, either popping them with her beak or gouging them with her sharp claws. Every balloon destroyed earned her more of the popcorn she was so fond of.
The boys were practicing spear or long hammer spinning, twirling them around their arms and necks and doing karate poses. Maybe showing off a little. Otis and Yewan dozed, completely uninterested in watching them dance around. Donny had gotten really good, even mastering some of the outlandish moves he’s seen in old Kung Fu movies. His spear never left his side, even when he slept, and its point had tasted deer blood often.
Swan was working a piece of deer leather, softening it up so she could make herself a buckskin shirt as her wolves and cubs enjoyed the warm sunlight.
Murray was playing toss with his monkeys but more often than not they wouldn’t bring the tennis ball back and he had to coax them in with snacks. They seemed to like the game of keep-away with the foxes better than fetch.
Harper was filing down the end of a bolt to make it pointy. She was making herself a morning star and was bound and determined to teach the giraffe how to follow simple saddle commands.
Gordon sat near the fire toasting a marshmallow just to show them he wouldn’t be shut out and that he didn’t care what they thought but he was fuming inside. He’d been working for hours chopping wood, doing his share of work, but Swan had sneered at the pile he had when he was finished.
“Vanessa can cut twice as much in half the time.” she’d said. “And she’s only ten. We need to change the rule from how long you cut to how much you cut.”
Cody had stepped in before they wound up in another shouting match.
“Gordon is still getting used to the work, he had blisters for weeks, remember? It takes a while to toughen up.”
Gordon hated him for butting in and pointing out that he was soft. He flipped them both off when they turned to leave. He hated this place. It was too much work, the animals needed constant care and he couldn’t understand why they didn’t put them outside the gate and forget about them. Every time he tried to tell them a better way of doing things, Mr. High and Mighty Cody would act like he was considering it and then tell him no. Sometimes he wouldn’t even think about it, like when he kept telling him they should move to someplace easier to maintain. Someplace that wasn’t so much work. You can leave if you want but we’re staying was the only answer he got to that suggestion.
The squeal of tires and the tortured sound of an engine on its last legs brought everyone to their feet and the monkeys scurrying for safety under Murrays’ jacket.
A minivan swerved into the lot and there was a roar from the undead milling around the front gate. It bounced off the wrecked school bus, slid sideways into the parking lot and rolled to a stop. It lurched forward again and jerked left and right; the driver seemed to have no particular destination in mind. It hit a few of the fast zombies then sped away, smoke billowing out from under the crumpled hood. The kids sprinted to the front gate and saw the van circle the expansive parking lot with the undead chasing behind. It looked like it was going to lead them away, get back on the road and go, but it swerved at the last second and took off down the long straight stretch leading to the oversized parking area at the far end of the lot. It was empty now but, in the summer it was a place for campers and tru
cks and RV’s to easily maneuver and sometimes spend the night. The van swerved sharply again, tilted precariously to one side, then raced right back towards them. Its motor was clattering and they could smell the burning rubber of overheated hoses. Halfway across the lot, there was a clang of metal breaking, something deep and fatal in the engine and a different kind of smoke started pouring out but the driver didn’t let up.
It was all or nothing. Kerry could see them, the people at the gate. She was right, it had been a campfire. Part of her was steering the car and keeping the gas mashed, getting her babies to safety. The other part was roaring and jerking towards the fresh flesh only a few feet away behind her. The screaming and crying little chunks of meat that would be filled with warm, red blood. Kerry fought it harder than she’d ever fought anything in her life. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, completely tore through it hoping the pain and the blood would satisfy the craving for just a few more seconds. She was close. So close. She kept the wheel straight, her foot to the floor and saw them with clarity for a second.
It was kids staring at her through the iron gate. Wild looking children with warpaint and spears and there were animals standing with them. Bears and panthers and wolves. She saw foxes and monkeys. Her eyes dimmed to black and she smiled a bloody smile. Her babies would be safe, she had found a warrior tribe of feral children who would teach them to be fierce.
They watched as the woman behind the wheel slumped over and the van slowed to a crawl. The undead were halfway across the parking lot, screaming and keening in a hungry frenzy. The engine made a final wheeze and seized up, bringing the smashed-up minivan to a halt near the sidewalk. Without the grinding, gasping sounds of the motor, they heard crying and then the driver sat bolt upright. She snarled and launched herself towards the rear and whoever was in it started screaming in terror. They watched wide eyes and speechless as the thing was jerked back into its seat, held in place by rope around the steering wheel.
“GO!” Cody yelled before he could think of any of the ten thousand reasons they shouldn’t.
“Wait!” Gordon yelled but the others were already sprinting through the gate, racing the undead for the prize in the van.
“Get the kids!” Cody yelled at Harper and Vanessa. He was running straight for the fastest of the runners, Otis overtaking him in a few quick bounds. The giant bear knew who the enemy was. He could sense the unnaturalness of the screaming things, the same as the rest of them. If his master was running to kill them, then he would kill them too. Donny and Yewan passed them, the pairs speed unmatched by any one else and they met the first sprinter head on. Yewan sprang and claws like butcher knives sank fast and slashed deep. Donny’s aim was true and the next one flew off its feet when sharpened steel drove through its head. The twins thundered by riding high on Popsicle and Daisy, a battle cry on their lips and saw bladed axes in their hands. They swung them with wild abandon, their tattooed bodies as pale as their mounts, their fearlessness unmatched. The bears roared their challenge and slammed into the horde, bowling the undead aside with their huge shoulders. Cody and Otis fought side by side, claws and hammers finding faces and heads. Their mottled gray bodies broke and bled, were torn apart and crushed, destroyed with fury and rage.
The thing in the driver’s seat was thrashing wildly when the girls ran up.
“I’ll cover you, get them out!” Swan yelled and put herself between the two girls and the first of the undead running at them. She gripped her tomahawks, one in each hand and crouched, adrenaline and fear making her heart pump fast. Zero and Lucy stayed by her side, growling and snarling their warning. Their lips peeled away from long, sharp teeth as they tensed to spring. Swan had the same snarl, same wrinkled nose and same low growl in her throat. When the first one was twenty feet away, she loosed her tomahawk. It spun once and buried itself with a dull thunk into the thing’s forehead. It dropped and the second screeching woman stumbled over him. She almost got her balance again but Zero sprang at her, driving her to the ground. She snapped yellow teeth at him and he tore most of her head off when he popped her skull in his powerful jaws.
Ziggy hovered protectively around Vanessa, her throat swelling as she cried out her warnings and she danced and flapped her wings.
Harper ignored the torn lipped thing lunging at her from the driver’s seat and grabbed the sliding door handle. She could hear at least two kids, maybe three, shrieking in terror at the frothing monster only a few feet away from them. She saw the ropes digging into the flesh, peeling the skin away as the black-eyed thing jerked and raged. The blood-soaked jeans and the bite marks on her leg told the story. Harper yanked with all of her adrenaline-charged strength and the plastic handle snapped in her hand. The door was locked from inside and she almost fell over backward when it gave way. Neither girl was armed, they had both run out with nothing, hadn’t thought to grab a weapon. Harpers half-finished morning star was where she’d left it and Vanessa only had the laser pointer still gripped in her fist.
“Ziggy” she said to catch the big bird’s attention and pointed the red dot at the glass window in the sliding van door.
. Ziggy reared her head back on instinct and her long neck propelled her beak against the glass. It disintegrated into a million shards, revealing three very scared children. Tear streaked faces yelled even louder when they saw the giant eyed bird staring at them.
“Hurry.” Harper said and held her arms through the opening. “If you want to live, we have to hurry.”
She pulled each of them through the broken window as fast as she could as Vanessa pointed them towards the gate and told them to run. It was closed but Gordon was there, he’d open it. The second the last little boys’ feet touched the ground she yelled for the others to come back. It was hard to be heard over the sounds of battle but they’d been listening for the retreat order. They had killed their way through the first of the runners but the main horde was bearing down on them and was only seconds away. They couldn’t fight those kinds of numbers, they’d be overwhelmed. Cody shouted ahead to the crazy twins and Annalise acknowledged with a wave of her axe. They had aimed their bears into the heart of the horde and a thousand pounds of pissed off Polar’s were plowing them down, running full speed through the midst of them with the wild-eyed kids whooping, swinging their battle axes, screaming in defiance and sending blood sprays in high arcs.
Donny rang his spear twice with his ring, the metal on metal a signal to his panther to come. Yewan heard and obeyed. He crushed a head in his jaws then heeded the call. He ran for his pack brother. The man cub who taught him to hunt and kill. The boy who showed him his true nature.
Cody yelled for Otis and ran, he didn’t wait around to see if he followed. The horde was almost on top of them and the bear could take care of himself.
Donny caught him easily and they saw the others stacked up at the gate as soon as they rounded the van.
“Get inside!” he yelled, breathing hard. “What’s wrong?”
Are we locked out? Was the first thing that crossed his mind. How did that happen?
He felt Otis bound up beside him as they left the parking lot and ran along the walkways to the ticket takers booths. The gate opened suddenly and everyone poured through it, humans and animals alike sensing relief at being behind the fences. Away from the unnatural things. The twins came in last, only yards ahead of the horde and dismounted with a flourish as Cody and Donny rammed the gates shut and turned the lock. Mottled, weathered faces slammed against it, arms shot though, hands reached for the warm meat that was so close. The children hurried away from the mob as they stacked up, away from their cries of hunger and away from the stench of rotting bodies. Across the parking lot, dozens of broken undead crawled forwards on shattered bodies. Dozens more lay unmoving with splashed open or missing heads, snapped spines and crushed backs.
As they neared the fire pit, Cody rubbed his bears’ ears, put his forehead against Otis’s and held it there for a moment, thanking him for his help.
�
��We couldn’t have done it without you, buddy.” he said and tried to convey his feelings, to let his friend know how he felt. The feelings of love and relief and gratitude were almost too much. The bear sent a big wet tongue up his cheek and Cody laughed.
“Gross.” he said and wiped the slobber off.
He swung a leg over his back and gigged him closer to the others. Otis obliged for a few paces then twisted, sending him rolling towards the ground. He wasn’t like the Polar’s, he didn’t like anyone riding him.
Swan stood over Gordon with a Tomahawk in each hand, ready to sink one into his face. Zero was by her side snarling a warning and ready to rip into the boy if his mistress willed it.
“You son of a bitch, you nearly got us killed.” she shouted.
Cody grabbed her arm before she could swing
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he said and pulled her away from the boy whose lip was bleeding and already starting to swell. “What’s going on?”
“That bastard locked us out!” she yelled, pointing a tomahawk still dripping with black blood at Gordon who was struggling to his feet.
“I had to check for bites!” he shouted right back. “One bite is all it takes to kill us all!”
“You could have checked after we were inside!”
Swan was livid and had a right to be but Gordon had a point.
“Stop it, both of you.” Cody said. “He’s right. Everybody check each other out. Swan, take Zero and go for a walk before he kills Gordon.”
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