Children of the Dead, page 23
It was David that had brought them here. That asshole had been strolling through town, stirring them all up. They came to this place on his trail. Rodney had allowed him to live when he most definitely should not have. Now this was the price for that mercy, the destruction of Rodney’s home, his family. There was nothing left but to rectify what he could and start over, clean. In that moment, Rodney made his decision and it was final.
He crossed over to Billy, tucking in his pistol, and scooped up the shotgun. A moment later, two zombies fell upon the sitting boy and began to devour him. Billy screamed bloody murder, as goes the expression and there was truth in it.
Rodney glanced at the shotgun barrel and saw that it did not appear damaged. He whirled and yanked Maria away from the car. She came off like a doll. Rodney dragged her to a line of three zombies blocking the way that he desired to go, back towards the offices.
“Rodney, what are you doing?” Maria cried.
“I deserve better. Here ya go, fellas.” Rodney threw Maria directly into the grasping arms of the dead. She screamed in shock and pain as the three closed in for the feast. Another advanced on him and Rodney gave the gaping mouth the butt of the shotgun, shattering a jaw. He sprinted off without a look back. Maria cradled her baby, protecting it, through her dying breath.
*****
David and Wayne camped at the edge of the stacked wrecks looking out towards the main office. The gate was torn down and a mass of zombies streamed through like rush hour passengers from a subway car. They did not push or fight each other, though, they simply waited their turn. The whole town had turned out for this bit of entertainment.
The large diesel wrecker was clearly visible at the front of the complex, parked beside a portion of the showroom and not far from the gate. “Jack Hughes Used Parts” was emblazoned along the quarter panels in vibrant blue. The truck was infested with zombies. There were at least six upon its back as if to get a better view for prey.
The zombies split into groups once they were through the gate. Some had broken off and began to beat upon the office building, searching for a weakness or a way inside. The noisy generator behind the offices attracted its own fan club. The last group moved on into the stacks, wandering down the aisles like Sunday shoppers at a grocery store.
“Why can’t we use the Blazer again?” David asked.
“Rodney keeps the keys on him and I don’t want to try and get them. He’s somewhere in the stacks, hopefully dead.”
“And once we get in the wrecker, what if I can’t get back out the side door?”
Wayne thought it over. The dead were sparse outside the front of the yard. “If you can’t get out,” he said. “I’ll get you out.”
“Okay. That’s vague.”
“I’ll think of something.”
They sat there a moment. They knew how they wanted to drive out of the place, but there was still a mass of zombies in the way.
“So now what?” Wayne asked.
David was scared shitless and could barely speak with his bone-dry throat. His reply came out, barely a whisper.
“What? David?” Wayne asked again. He hadn’t heard.
“I, uh. Fuck, I don’t know.” David swallowed and shifted the gun between his hands absent-mindedly. The thought of diversion was a plan; how to get the dead away from the truck and the office door.
“I have a fucked up idea,” this from Wayne. He looked towards the engine barn. “Come on.”
They backtracked to the husk of a former big rig wedged in between two piles of foreign imports. Going back into the yard was asking for it, but Wayne had patrolled this place daily since the beginning. He jumped onto the rig and wheeled open the rusted door. “Short cut,” he said and gave his friendly good ‘ole boy grin. He turned and hopped right through the cab, swinging out the other side’s window. David followed, noting the stench of mildew, rotten fabric and diesel. Once across to the next aisle of cars, they could walk right up to the rear of the engine barn unnoticed and get inside.
The “fucked up idea” was parked just inside the engine barn. It was used exclusively for getting the engine blocks, with an average weight of 700 pounds, down from the four tiered shelving system lining the back wall of the barn. The shelves were subdivided into makes—Ford, Chevy, Honda, Toyota, and so on. One particular engine was half on the shelf marked Nissan and half on the twin tines of a forklift.
“That’s the plan?” David asked.
“Oh yeah,” Wayne said, still grinning. He dropped the backpack from his shoulder and patted it lovingly. He then removed a small plastic case, all bright neon orange.
David caught a glance at the list of warnings printed on the cover. “Okay. This could work,” he said.
*****
The dead invasion of Jack Hughes junkyard had slowed considerably. Most of the zombies near the gate when Joe Boggs opened it up were already inside hunting. Those had seen the fresh, living people run inside. The stragglers now making their way inside had need of new targets to put them in a frenzy.
The beat up old forklift rolled from the side of the engine barn and made for the open space at the gate. The engine block on the forks jumped and bobbled as the forklift sped over the uneven ground. Wayne brought the twin forks low like bull’s horn at the charge, spilling the engine on a bump. It toppled right onto the head of the former Mayor of Harmony, Bill Wiler, unrecognizable now without a face, though the suit was still fairly impeccable. That was short lived as the block mashed Bill into the gravel like a cartoon coyote taking an anvil.
The forks stopped at about five feet high and Wayne went to work, driving in a wide arc and slicing those steel protrusions through every corpse in his path. He always turned to the left as this particular forklift possessed a fortuitous amenity. The right side was covered with a wire mesh. Turning to the left gave no zombie easy access to the driver. Wayne yipped and yelled like he was riding a real bull. David shook his head in disbelief and actually grinned. The two might have been joyriding out behind the Gooch house on the four-wheeler.
One nimble zombie latched onto the wire mesh, pulling violently, and hissing at the driver. Wayne taunted it with gleeful dares, adding “cocksucker” and “dickhead” when appropriate. His diversion had done the trick; all of the zombies had left both the tow truck and the office alone. Their shambling investigations resulted only in a battering from the spinning forks. Even so, the mass was closing in. Several hands scraped Wayne’s left arm, threatening to hold on for a piece. He turned the forklift for its final charge of the plan and lay on the throttle.
The forklift broke from the gathered mass of dead, making a beeline for Rodney’s Blazer parked back of the office. Wayne lowered the forks further and hit the automobile with a screeching bang. The forks drove deep into the lower half of the left rear quarter panel, puncturing a tire and finally coming to a rest in the intended target. The Blazer’s rear end slid back against the stack of wrecks beside it causing the crushed Thunderbird atop the pile to slide free and crash nose first on top of it. The punctured gas tank spit out a fine stream of petrol. The tank was full as Rodney always ordered upon his return to the yard from his bloody raids. Wayne threw the forklift into reverse and the wheels just spun on the oily gravel. The electric engine whined, its pitch lowering as the last reserves of power died away.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi—” Wayne bolted from the vehicle and looked back. There was a running mass of dead coming at him. He grabbed for the orange case in the floor of the forklift’s cab and jumped onto the hood of the Blazer. From there, he climbed right up the wrecked T-bird until he was fifteen feet above the dead melee, opening up several cuts on his exposed hands. He pulled a flare gun from the case, and aimed down. Beneath the feet of the horde was a spreading puddle of gasoline. The smell permeated the junkyard on any given day but this time Wayne thought it was a beautiful thing to breathe. The flare gun popped and a glowing red shot whistled right through the writhing arms and torsos below.
David watched all this with horror from the barn. Wayne turned following his shot and dropped right off the stack to the ground on the other side. The zombies trampled in a swamp of fire. Flames jumped up their bodies; the only force more relentlessly hungry. Those at the edges of the conflagration were ignited by those closer in and the fire was pouring through them all in moments. This was his chance.
David ran full tilt for the door on the side of the main building. Six or seven dead wandered across his path, their senses destroyed by the blaze. David dodged through them, emptying his revolver along the way and hitting absolutely nothing. Ahead, the door was clear of any corpse.
Wayne ran out of the stacks as well. He spotted David’s attempt and took up a position. He watched down his rifle sight, ready for anything to happen. There was a quick and irrational fear that David was abandoning his ass. Several zombies that were merely singed turned to the intruder in their midst. Wayne split their attention with several rifle blasts, dropping at least one.
The side door popped opened just before David reached it. The little blonde girl stood in the doorway, looking out on the disturbance. The little boy was right behind her. She saw a dirty creature running directly for her and gave her first stimulus reaction in days, screaming at an ear-splitting pitch. Every zombie that had regained its bearings turned to the noise and began to stalk David at the door.
“Get back! Get inside!” David shouted to her. She obliged and slammed the door in his face just as he skidded into it with a bang. “Shit. Don’t. do. that.” He yanked on the handle and it gave only a little. He still heard the screaming from the other side. The zombies on the tow truck began to move towards the commotion.
The flood of dead through the gate was low and the large truck was temporarily zombie free. Wayne saw the opening and went for it, cutting through distracted zombies on his way to the tow truck.
David yanked again on the door. In his panic, he had forgotten to twist the handle. When he turned it, the door gave with no resistance as he pulled hard. He fell backwards on his ass with the effort. The door yawned open into the empty conference room. He was through the door, closing and locking it, just as the first dead fists slammed against the other side.
Wayne was almost to the truck, using David’s hijinks at the door as a counter distraction. He had drawn a few chasers but none that could catch up to him. The bullet, however, caught him handily and tore off a chunk of meat from his left shoulder. He was spun by the impact and matched eyes with Rodney, who had just emerged from the yard. It would be the luckiest shot of Rodney’s life; a left-handed pistol hit on a moving target at 10 ten-plus yards. Rodney burst out a gleeful hyena laugh at the feat. Wayne answered, raising the rifle with his good arm and squeezing off a shot. It was remarkably well aimed, considering the circumstances. The shot whizzed right by Rodney’s face, smacking into a Volkswagen with a Ping. Rodney scampered back to cover in surprise, adrenaline flowing, and proceeded to empty his handgun at Wayne.
Two zombies wandering through the firefight dropped and every other shot was off into the night beyond the gate. Wayne was moving again, though pumping blood from his wound. He threw off a couple of grasping arms in his path and continued to the truck. A glance down at the ragged, meaty hole in his shoulder reassured him that as bad as it looked, he felt virtually no pain. There was adrenaline and willful determination to survive.
*****
Rodney tossed his handgun aside and drew the shotgun off his shoulder. He had emerged just in time to see that fuck David make it inside his office and Wayne running for his truck. He looked for the Blazer and recognized the burning husk. Murderous did not begin to describe his mood.
Wayne had ducked out of sight behind the tow truck. That asshole traitor must have his keys, the keys to the only vehicle left. Rodney had known that David had been one of Wayne’s oldest friends and the guy wasn’t going to abandon him. They were up to something. Saving his ammo, Rodney began to make his way through the scattered dead. He smashed them out of his way with the butt of the gun, but the horde was thickening. He couldn’t get to Wayne and finish him off. Right now, he wanted David, and turned to get inside the building.
He would get past all of them, through that door, and nothing was going to stop him. He had lost everything by trying to survive the old way, building a team, trusting (in his own way), and sharing what was his alone. He would kill every living thing in that building and make his way out of this place. There will be other towns, other places to go. It was all there for the taking.
*****
Oh please don’t die. Please. I’m sorry, Tommy. So sorry. Jodi ran a thousand different attempts at apology and regret through her mind. The boy was unconscious beside her. His breath rattled and occasional shudders racked his tiny body. Jessica sat against the passenger door, rigid, and gripping its handle with white knuckles. She kept her distance from the ragged-looking boy. She also, thankfully, kept silent.
The air was harsh on Jodi’s eyes through the missing windshield. It also cooled her blistered skin and kept her from passing out. The night was dark and absolute. The power was gone for good; no safety lights burned on utility poles. If Jodi had been calm enough for rational thought, it might have chilled her to realize that no power was a sign of things getting worse. There was no one out there maintaining the infrastructure of civilization and surely, electricity was its modern cornerstone. The surviving humans were more alone than ever, with monsters in the dark.
Jodi thought of only one other goal, beyond her guilt for the boy. She wanted away from that goddamn house and this goddamn town. Fuck David. Fuck everyone else. He left us there. Look at us. Her shame turned to anger at the boy she had grown to like and trust. That level of trust was a milestone for her, as Jodi had thought her capacity for such things was gone long ago. She knew the truth; it wasn’t fair to blame him. Jodi had gone out, finally, to search for her father or more maybe more importantly, his car keys. It had been her issues that distracted her and attracted the zombies to the house. Her fear and her screams had born despicable consequences. She gave Tommy another glance and burst into fresh tears. Her heart broke just a bit more.
She forced her tears away. The road was all she could see and her thoughts traced a route. She would drive straight through Harmony and out to the interstate. The truck was over three quarters fueled up. Her father had been compulsive about keeping the tank nearly full, a single useful trait. He would always explain, though no one cared, that filling up today was better than tomorrow when gas prices “jumped-the-fuck-up again.” Jodi didn’t give a shit about his reasons. She did believe it had everything to do with Mary Stevens, a classmate of Jodi’s and a clerk at the Stop N’ Save. Barry would leer at her and make comments on how pretty she looked. It sickened Jodi when she had to stand there, trying to talk to her friend, and endure her father’s compulsions. What had happened to Mary, to all of those faces along the school’s hallway, classrooms, everywhere? She could remember a hundred different kids, most of whom she had never spoken to, and hoped that somewhere they were okay. She didn’t want to be alone out here. The world was no longer a place for strangers. Strangers want to eat you.
Tommy shuddered again and sighed, gurgling blood down his chin. Jodi put an arm around him, gently and with no hope for actual comfort.
“Make him stop, Jodi.” Jessica demanded.
“No, Jessica. I won’t. He can do whatever the hell he wants.”
There was ice in her voice. She would not bow to her sister again. The little girl depended on her for everything now and Jodi would continue to remind her of that. Jessica responded to her sister with a blistering gaze and turned back to the night. There was no more talk.
Jodi kept the truck at a fairly slow pace. It kept the rushing air from blinding her and allowed her to avoid potential unwanted passengers. She imagined that a single strike would destroy a corpse’s legs and send the thrashing, biting torso into the cab with them. Vague shapes passed on the side of the road. Jodi saw only the blurred impression of outstretched arms and stumbling bodies. She was focused intently on the reflectors down the center line, leading directly into Harmony and beyond.
*****
David sat panting against the side of the door as it banged and jumped behind him. The little girl was there, staring at him terrified. The little boy huddled at David’s feet, face pale.
“Hey, guys. Um,” he said. “We’re getting out of here. All of us. Do me a favor, okay? Can you help me?” He leaned in and both children shuffled back a couple of steps. David thought that he must look like one of them now, between the dirt, the wounds, and the probable crazed look in his eye.
He tried a different tactic. “Do you want to leave?”
“I want to go home,” said the boy. “I want my mommy.”
“Me too. My name’s David. What’s yours?”
“Chase. Chase Roberts.”
“Hi, Chase. And what’s your name?
The girl opened her mouth and in a whisper, answered “Caroline.”
“All right, Caroline. Chase. Do you guys have any backpacks or things we can use to carry stuff?” Chase nodded. “I need you to go get them and bring them back here. Can you do that?” He nodded.
“Are we going to find my Mommy?” Chase asked. “Those men took her.”
“Who? The monsters?” David cocked a thumb over his shoulder. He shook his head.
“The army men.”
David was dumbstruck. His questions multiplied like Gremlins in water, but there was no time to chase down that mystery now. His answer was still the truth.
“Yes. We’re going to find everybody. Go on.”
“My mommy’s dead,” Caroline said. She looked as calm as if she had just ordered a water at a restaurant. The statement hung in the air.
“Come on, Caroline.” Chase pulled her away and they ran off through the door into the offices.
David turned to fix another practical issue. They would need weapons and here was a nice table full of them. He selected a rifle and a Smith and Wesson semi-auto pistol lying on top of the ammo boxes and loose shells. He had seen these guns before.
