Children of the Dead, page 22
The porch roof gave way beneath them. The damaged supports snapped and the outside edge dropped to the earth like a window shutter falling into place. The roof remained intact where it connected to the house, blocking jets of flame and burning air from touching them. The girls rolled down the steep, rough slide of the porch and bounced onto the lawn below. Jodi felt her left shoulder dislocate on impact but had managed to hold onto Jessica, cushioning her.
The house groaned and cracked, falling into the inferno within. By the fire light, the entire lawn appeared a fresh battlefield. Bodies writhed, burning or broken, all around them. Nothing stood on its feet.
After some moments, Jodi got up and winced in pain from her useless arm. She grabbed her shoulder and tried to pull it back into place. The pain was immediate and immense. Jodi screamed loudly to the night as the bone resettled in the socket.
She next brought Jessica to her feet. The girl was dead weight, providing no resistance or help. She worried her sister was broken, but this was not the place to examine her. They had to get away from this house. For an instant, she had seen her father blasted out of the house. It gave her an idea. All they needed was a little luck.
She walked to the black pickup sitting in the driveway. Every window had been blown out by the blast, but it was otherwise intact. She brushed glass out of the seat and placed Jessica in the cab. The girl remained slack, vacant eyes surrounded with black soot and dirt. There were scrapes along her arms and legs from the roof shingles but nothing felt broken. Jodi didn’t need to tell her to stay put.
Carefully, Jodi stepped among the fallen zombies searching for the one she wanted to see the least. Nothing came at her looking for a snack. In fact, she must have resembled one of them at this point with her cradled arm and bloody, blackened skin.
Within a few minutes she found him, bent around the trunk of the same tree that held up the rope swing. He still “lived.” One hand opened and closed though no arm could aim the claw. The body was destroyed, both legs missing and the torso smashed into the tree. The skull hung loosely, neck broken, and the face was burnt completely away.
Jodi knelt and found the upper parts of his singed blue jeans intact. She felt the pockets, where there was a lump on the left side. From the pocket, she produced the ring of keys, on which this man had once kept his entire life. There were keys to their apartment, the grandmother’s house, several work related ones, and a large black key with a Ford logo printed upon it. She felt the key, making sure it was intact. She also found a small chain attachment to the key ring. In the fire light, she could make out her mother, looking tired, but smiling at the camera. Barry had an arm around her shoulders, beaming. In her mother’s arms, Jessica sat as an infant, sound asleep. Jodi stood slightly apart from her family, but she pressed forth a smile nonetheless.
Jodi stood and gave her father one last goodbye. She stomped down upon his skull, crushing it against an exposed root and ending his hateful existence. She was weary as she walked back to the truck, beginning to feel a throbbing pain from her shoulder. A nap would feel amazing, lying peacefully back on her grandmother’s bed. She reached the driver’s side of the truck and went to climb inside. Instead, she was distracted by something she saw just a few feet away.
The boy lay in a heap of burnt corpses. Deep bites and ragged gouges covered his small body but he was not dead…yet. The explosion had spared him the indignity of being eaten alive. Even so, Tommy appeared to have little time left. Jodi scooped the boy up in her arms and took him back to the truck.
The dead had begun to re-group; a lucky few who had been late to this party picked their way through the remains. The sound of their moans mixed with the crackling fires. The house was a crater.
They were all together again in the cab. Jessica leaned against the passenger door but would not acknowledge Jodi. Tommy lay across the seat, his head in Jodi’s lap. He made soft, pained whimpers. Jodi’s only response was a constant, whispered apology. Her tears flowed freely as the engine caught and roared to life. She popped the truck into reverse, turned around, and left the driveway. She glanced at the ruin of the house one last time but was unable to find a single memory, good or bad. All of her old fear was gone, blown away in a single explosion. There would be no more distraction by the weight of her past or the state of a present. From here on, survival was dependant on no one but herself. She felt free.
Last Chance to Exit
David was good and well fucked at this point. He had been running full tilt past stacked rows of dismembered automobiles. The vague car shapes looked identical in the moonlight, each glittering with twisted metal and broken glass. He stumbled several times over unknown metal castoffs lying in the aisles. The rows of cars were uneven in height, but all were above his head. Behind him were a group of maniacs armed to the teeth and somewhere in the front, an imposing barbed fence. Worse yet, beyond the fence was an inhospitable world of the walking dead. Good and well fucked was the most optimistic state he could manage.
There was a shot, and only one. If Rodney failed to keep any of the vehicle keys on his person, that left his “suite” as the only logical place left. David would have to evade anyone following him and get back to the office unseen. Maybe he could find a set of keys, and drive out of here before they knew anything. He liked the idea of stealing Rodney’s precious Blazer.
David began to take turns away from the fence, taking rights to circle back through the stacks towards its center. He could cross that and come out the other side. This would put him close to the office. This was a guess. His sense of direction was scrambled in the low light.
The next turn he made was a dead end. What appeared to be a large iron fuel tank, easily 20 feet across, blocked the path. The air was vibrating with the sound of the dead in all directions. Somewhere back along his path he thought he heard living voices. There came a loud metallic bang followed by a gunshot. David did hear voices, curses actually, and he could distinctly hear an admonition against Billy and his “fat, useless ass.” That was Mark’s voice. They were getting closer but were no more trackers than soldiers. David felt strongly that everyone inside this junkyard would be as dead as the widely scattered vehicle wrecks by dawn.
He thought of Maria, probably somewhere out here in the dark. He would do his best to find and rescue her, and grab Wayne too. That was a long shot. He had made one promise and mostly broken it. Jodi, Tommy, even the psycho kid were in that house with little food, no water, and probably in the dark now. Things would be worse for them from here on out.
There was another series of bangs somewhere behind him. His pursuers were much closer, obviously scared, and apt to shoot at anything moving. He thought of trying to climb the walls of jagged metal and glass around him. That was not a good idea even in broad daylight. The noise he made would bring them all down on him.
An idea was born. David felt along the ground and grabbed a discarded metal cylinder. It was an old oil filter. He had used this trick in a video game or two; he’d seen it in a movie somewhere. It could work. David tossed the oil filter further ahead and to his right, towards the fence. It made a series of loud bangs as it collided with a car hood and who knew what else. David didn’t stick around but slipped out of the dead end with the tank then continued off to his left, cutting across the interior of the yard.
He had trotted a few hundred feet when the car stacks fell away to reveal a wide clearing. It was a triple road-crossing and hinted at the organization necessary for finding the right part on the right car somewhere in this mess. David didn’t know it, but he now stood at the center of the yard. He hung tight against an old VW van and glanced around the space. The moonlight gave a good view of the area, good enough to notice the form sitting on the hood of a totaled Oldsmobile at one side. He thought he recognized her light-colored hair. Whether fate or bad luck brought her here, David knew his next decision was a bad one. He came slowly around the edge of space, staying in the moon shadows. When he was about ten yards away he tried to call out to her.
“Maria,” he said in as loud a whisper as possible. It still felt like a shout. “Maria… it’s David.”
“David!” That response was much too loud!
“I’m glad you’re here, David. I could use a friend right now.”
He crept up to the side of the car upon which she perched. Maria looked into the moon’s face and never at David as she spoke. “Rodney came through looking for you, but all he found was me. He told me to get inside, sounded like he actually cared. Maybe we’ll be all right.” Her voice was calm and dreamy.
“Nothing’s going to be all right. The dead are everywhere, we’re surrounded. This place isn’t going to last, maybe not even tonight. Come with me, Maria. Help me get a car and come with me. I have some friends to pick up and we’re going to Atlanta. We can’t stay in Harmony.” Still, she did not look at him. “Please Maria, come with me.” He took one of her hands and felt a sticky mess coating the palm. Maria jerked her hand away. She faced him.
“I can’t go.” She said. “Rodney and I deserve each other. I’m as bad as he is now.”
“What?” David took a step back. He finally saw the girl’s blackened face. It was Stephanie, Rodney’s toy. Her body had been propped into the driver’s seat of the car. He crossed over to her and recoiled. Her face had been caved in.
“He sent that little whore to comfort me. I want to tell you it was an accident, and that I could have stopped. I just didn’t. Who’s left to tell me I did a bad thing?” A thud and a jingle made him jump. At his feet was a ring with a couple of old keys attached as well as a rabbit’s foot.
“They’re the keys to the wrecker,” Maria said. “I had them the whole time. I wanted you to stay, David. I did miss you.” She turned back to the moon. “I’ll try and keep them away from you. Go get your friends.”
David scooped up the keys and searched for something to say. Nothing useful came, not even a “thank you.” He felt gut-punched. This girl was incapable of such an act. In this world, you either adapted or died. Survival of the fittest had reasserted claim to the fate of mankind. The sweet, brainy Maria was gone. This girl was something else, something mad and he would find no lasting connection with her.
There was more movement approaching the clearing. David didn’t stick around to greet anyone and headed back towards the front gate. He had only gone past a couple of car stacks when he ran face first into a zombie. Their skulls collided with a hollow “thok” sound and both fell on their asses. The zombie had been an adolescent but tall for his age. He was perfectly intact and grayish only in the way moonlight casts itself on pale skin. It was the ice cold touch and electric zap of that skin that sent David into a silent freak out. Pins and needles raced up his face and he stifled a yell. A gunshot exploded the kid’s head. David actually felt the bullet pass over his shoulder. He whirled around in a crouch, looking up the barrel of a rifle to a friendly face.
“I heard you got some keys,” Wayne said. David merely nodded in return. Wayne lowered his gun.
“They’re inside the yard, David. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said. Wayne walked up and pulled a startled David to his feet. A series of moans drew their attention. They were close, just around the next stack.
“They’re already inside?” asked David. “Shit.”
“Got something for you. Keep ya safe.” Wayne produced David’s trusty apocalyptic companion, the pocketknife.
“You’re kidding. Right?” David did feel relief at possessing the old knife again, but a useful weapon against the dead it was not. He pocketed it with a shrug as Wayne produced a black revolver.
“Yeah, I was.” Wayne plopped a revolver in David’s hand. “It’s all I got extra. Can you drive stick?”
“No, and trying to learn under the circumstances, fuck no. You?”
“All right, I’ll get to the truck.” Wayne checked the ammo in the rifle he carried. “You want to go get your friends and I just want to get out of here.”
“Maria?” asked David.
“Yeah, she told me about the keys. I saw what she did too.” Wayne shook his head. “She’s lost it, but she’s on our side.”
“What about those kids? We can’t leave them here.”
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” Wayne said. “Let’s get back to the front. This way.”
*****
“Maria. I told you to get your ass back inside.” Rodney stepped into central clearing missing Wayne by seconds. He was sweating, pissed off, and frightened. He would not let his home fall, even if that entailed putting a bullet through anyone in his way, living or dead. He had heard shots, screams; it was all falling apart. He would rebuild it and anyone willing to come along, shut their mouths, and do as they’re told would be spared his wrath.
“Hello, dear.” Maria addressed Rodney as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world. “I wanted to stay in the moonlight for awhile. Sit with me for awhile.” She gave him a toothy, enticing grin and then added, “did you find him?”
“No, I didn’t find him and I don’t give a fuck what you want. Come with me.” Rodney grabbed her forcefully by the arm. She jerked her arm away.
“I’m going to stay right here, Rodney. We all are.” Maria turned back to the moon.
“I told you I don’t fuckin’ care—” Rodney stopped. He had his first glimpse of the face in the driver’s seat. He remembered her smooth skin, her quick breaths while he fucked her, so short a time before. How good she had felt and her fear—
“Stephanie,” he said. “You crazy bitch, what did you do—”
Maria slapped him viciously across the face, cutting him off. He looked back at her with murder in his eyes, clicking the hammer back on his gun as an afterthought.
“That’s no way to talk to the mother of your child, Rodney. We’re a family now. There will be no disrespect and absolutely no other women.” Maria gave the decree with icy determination. Rodney raised the gun to her face, gritting a mouthful of teeth. The sound of heavy footfalls in the dirt grabbed his attention.
Billy stood alone against the night sky, holding the shotgun to the earth. The shadows were about him like a silver cloak, adorned in shining blood.
“Bulk?” Rodney asked. “Where’s everybody else?”
Billy remained silent and walked towards them. He raised the shotgun, pointing it directly at Rodney, who brought his gun up as well. Maria, for the first time, looked concerned and put a hand on her stomach.
“Whoa now, fat ass. Don’t go crazy. Put it down.” Rodney’s tone was much less assured and confusion hung from his orders. He had to get back to the front and this fucking tub of lard was getting in the way. Rodney knew he should have gutted him that first night. No one could have stopped him. Billy, The Incredible Bulk, was a waste of immense space.
“What’s going on here, Billy-bob? Where’re the boys?”
“They’re still around here somewhere.” Billy finally spoke. His voice was low and dreadful. “Dead, I hope. I shot Mark low so he’d get back up. Maybe he’ll be looking for you now.”
Rodney was speechless, weighing his chance of a fire fight with a shotgun and his bad shooting hand. The right hand ached anytime he made a fist. The moment for decision dwindled. Low moans from multiple directions rose above the car stacks. Fuckin’ hell, he thought. The walking dead were inside the yard and inside the stacks.
“I want to get out of here, Rodney. Get us out.” Maria pleaded with him. There was a creeping fear in her voice. Gunshots could be heard from the gate area. Rodney had no time to deal with this.
“Billy,” he said, getting the authority back into his voice, “I need your help or no one’s getting out of here. Put the gun down and let’s go back to the office. We’ll load up and get the fuck out.” He waited for a response, but did not lower his own gun. An olive branch was not like Rodney Gibson, but it was worth a shot.
Billy smiled and even in the pale light, the expression radiated across the open space. He was not going to lower his gun; he was going to use it. The madness and hatred displayed by the boy chilled even Rodney, for whom hate was his greatest strength.
“Nobody gets out,” Billy said and squeezed his finger. Rodney barely let the boy finish the sentence before firing his own gun. By sheer dumb luck, Rodney’s bullet struck the barrel of the shotgun knocking it slightly off center, enough to push Billy’s shot just to the left of Rodney. The range had been too short to allow much scatter and that had saved Rodney’s life. The bullet ricocheted off the shotgun barrel and struck Billy in the left shoulder. It erupted out the back in a bloody splash. The boy fell to the ground in shock. Rodney advanced on him.
“You’re fucking dead—” was all Rodney got out before Maria released a piercing scream from behind him. Rodney spun around. Zombies ringed the clearing. They stumbled from every available pathway, tightening the circle. They approached from behind Billy, who whimpered and stared at his gunshot wound, shocked and unaware.
“Rodney, please!” Maria hissed, gripping her belly protectively.
In this moment Rodney knew it was over. He should never have allowed others in this place, his place. They had never respected his ownership or his authority. He and Maria could have had a life here, coming and going for supplies without attracting the attention of anyone. The others had been his friends once, followed his lead for years, and Rodney had control. That was for shit now and they all were dead both inside and out.
