Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)
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Not in the Plan

 

Steve followed Wes a few steps down the road.  Suddenly he turned around, running backward for a moment he looked at his once prized possession.   He had to stop, the fenders and doors were dented, the paint scraped and scratched.  Sadness filled Steve for a moment not just at the loss of his car but for everything.  He allowed himself one shuddering sigh before turning to run after Wes who had just disappeared from view. 

Wes turned a corner and waited against the wall for Steve to catch up.  Panting Steve was at his side in seconds.  “Sorry, I’m sorry.”  Steve gasped.  “I shouldn’t have swerved.”

Wes grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.  “Don’t be.  You saved a life.  No matter how small it was still a life.” 

Steve held onto Wes’ shoulders, gripping tightly.  “I just hope I didn’t kill us in the process.”  Letting go Steve started down the alley.  Wes gave him a moment and followed. 

Two block down and no problems, Wes and Steve headed toward the Point and the sound of Helicopters.  Looking up they could see one of them pass overhead. 

“Almost there.”  Steve smiled at Wes.  Up ahead was the parking lot.  It was just visible between the buildings.  Wes’ heart was pounding; they were going to get out of this mess.  They were going to find Beth and get out of the city.  Picking up the pace they cover the last block at a jog.  The street opened up before them. 

              “There it is, there it is look Helicopters and cops and the Army!  We are going to get out of here!”  Wes shouted and punched Steve on the arm. 

The Parking lot was full of cars all parked at odd angles and smashed into each other. Steve and Wes emerged from the darkness of an alley across the street from the lot.  A cop saw them, raised his gun, then lowered it and waved them on.  Steve stuttered to a stop when the gun came up but Wes never slowed.  The cop gave a hurried wave to an entrance that wasn’t completely covered up with vehicles.  Steve had to hurry to keep up with Wes. 

              “Run boys they might be right behind you.  I don’t think the Army is going to wait around much longer.”  The officer shouted as they ran by. 

Steve nodded his thanks as they passed.  The officer didn’t seem to notice as he was distracted by his radio.  Steve heard the crackling static distorted voice through the speaker.  “Evacuate all areas repeat evacuate all areas.”

             
They are giving up on the city. 
Steve thought as he continued winding his way through the labyrinth of haphazardly parked cars.  Wes was still several feet in front of him.  Steve kept a watch to the left and to the right.  He marveled at the dexterity that Wes showed navigating the parking lot.  He wondered why Wes never went out for football or track.  This thought left him as he spied a barricade up ahead. 

              The blockade was manned by a couple of police and three Military men.  As Wes approached the men turned and hurried off toward the Ballpark.  One of the soldiers turned and urged Steve and Wes to follow.  Wes hesitated to wait for Steve to catch up.  “What’s up with them?”  Wes shouted as Steve neared. 

Steve stopped short of Wes and started to laugh.  Hands on his knees Steve tried to catch his breath.  The heavy pack on his back shifted forcing him to stand up straight.  The look on Wes’ face mixed with the stuffed bunny ears caused Steve to break out laughing even harder. 

“What the hell is so funny?”  Wes asked perplexed.  “Come on we need to go find Beth.”

The soldier shouted at them then gave up and ran into the stadium.  Wes turned to continue his trek to the follow but Steve’s hand shot out to catch him.  Both men halted listening.  Gun fire had erupted off to their left.  They could see a crowd advancing on the gate in the fading light the flashes from the gun barrels looked like flash bulbs going off. 

“Let’s move!”  Steve shouted as he pushed Wes forward.  They returned to picking their way through the tight bunching of cars when they heard the gun fire intensify, now from their right.  Wes climbed up on the roof of a car and stopped.  Steve had run past and it took a moment to realize Wes was no longer with him.  He looked back at Wes who was staring at the top of the stands.  Steve turned just in time to see flames shoot high into the air and fire and metal starting to rain down around them.

“This way, this way, toward those tents.”  Wes was screaming and pointing to a group of military tents set up close to the river at the far end of the parking lot.  Steve followed Wes again marveling at his speed.   As Wes and Steve approached they saw men running from the tents, all of them were armed.  One of the tents burst into flames as parts of the stadium fell on it.

  “Shit the other way the other way!”  Steve yelled, and they turned back toward the car. 

Wes stopped dead in front of Steve causing him to slam into the younger man.  “No good!  Zombies.”  Wes pointed at the shuffling crowd coming toward them. 

Steve grabbed Wes’s arm, “The river!” 

They jumped over the hoods of cars, and ran over roofs to get to the edge of the concrete flood prevention banks along the river.  Skidding to a halt at the edge both men stood in shock at what met their eyes. In the river below just behind where the tents were set up was a pile of bodies. 

“Dear GOD!”  Steve shouted, “they were killing people?!”

“Come on!”  Wes cried pulling Steve down the bank to a small ridge halfway down.  Wes pointed to a ladder several hundred feet away in the opposite direction of the bodies and the now flaming stadium.  “That should come up behind that group we saw.” 

“What if it comes up right in the middle of them?”  Steve asked.

Wes didn’t have time to answer as several splashes from the river caught their attention.  People were jumping over the side of the bank into the water.  Several of them were on fire. 

Steve and Wes watched for a moment until a couple of zombies fell over the bank.  Their arms outstretched still trying to reach the fleeing people.   “Yep time to move again.”  Steve said pushing Wes forward.

Edging along the bank they cautiously approached the ladder.  Behind them they could hear the screams of those in the water.  The quick current and the undead making fast work of them.  Finally reaching the bottom rung Steve looked over at Wes.  “I hope you’re right.”

“Yeah me to.” Wes replied as they began to climb.

Steve reached the top and motioned for Wes to stop.  Peeking over the edge he spied several zombies about fifty feet from them. “Come on, Hurry!”  He whispered.  Scrambling over the bank the two raced for the cover of an alley. 

“Now what?”  Wes questioned breathing heavy with his hands on his knees.   As if to answer his question somewhere to their right they heard a Church bell tolling.

Story to Be Told

 

The four men were all screaming and running after the armored car.  Devin accelerated over a small median.  His passengers were thrown back and forth around the back of the truck again.  Bullets pinged off the sides of the armored vehicle as curses flew around the inside. 

Slamming through an old VW bus and taking a hard turn, Devin watched the group slow their run and fire once more before one was grabbed by a zombie and bitten.  He lost sight of them as he turned the corner.   Finding the road smoother, the passengers began to right themselves. 

“What were you saying about the military knowing what was going on?”  Beth demanded throwing a heavy money bag against the wall to make a seat, then angrily pushing the bag back off of her when the truck bounced off a motorcycle lying across the road down a side street.  Trevor did not speak up right away.  The others in the back of the truck pressed him for information as they tried to disentangle themselves from each other.

              “I was in the meeting, when did we talk to the military?”  Devin asked taking another sharp turn scraping against a burning police car.  Several people protested the driving.  Devin pulled down an alley that was clear of any movement.  Parking the truck he turned to Trevor, waiting for him to explain.

              Matt pulled Martin back up into a seated position.  Martin looked around at the others in the truck and sighed as Trevor remained silent.  “Well Devin after you left, I contacted Colonial Miller.  You know the guy in charge of the National Guard post.  He said the military had found out a few things about the infected people.  Basically he said that they were dead.”  This statement was met with a silence so loud from the others it was almost painful. 

Beth spoke up startling Matt who looked over at her as if she had jumped out from under a rock.  “What do you mean? Dead?  Are you talking like zombie dead?”  She demanded.  

Martin rubbed his hand over his face and continued, “From what the military doctors could tell, the virus kills the host. But then it takes over the brain and nervous system.”

Gillian shook her head and asked, “Is it really brain death and not just an infection?” 

Martin shrugged, “I didn’t ask, they said that the victims were dead but the virus causes a reanimation of sorts.  The Colonial did say the victims came back with only the most basic brain functions actually working.” 

Again Gillian interrupted, “So they are brain dead but the heart is still going and they are walking around?” 

The Mayor looked frustrated but not angry. “No, both the brain and heart have stopped working.  He told me this allows the virus to control the reanimated corpse without the need for oxygen or blood flow to the muscles.  But they are still able to move around.” 

Gillian shook her head again like she was trying to clear it, “Without heart and lungs working the muscle tissue is starved of oxygen and nutrients so they tend to not function.”  She argued.

“Well that might explain why the zombies don’t seem to run, but why are they attacking and well… eating people?”  Beth asked as if this was simply something in a text book that she couldn’t quite get.  Matt felt like he was back in class for a moment, just as confused as he was in algebra. 

Martin thought for a moment, scratching his chin he seemed to struggle with his answer.  Taking a deep breath he spoke again.  “Well according to Colonial Miller the zombies, for lack of a better term, only seem to be driven by hunger for living flesh,” 

“So they stop eating as soon as you’re dead.”  Matt perked up happily, “That is just like the movies.”  The smile fell from his face as he saw the looks of the others. 

Martin frowned at him with raised eyebrows then continued, “as soon as the blood of their victims stops pumping they lose interest. When the heart stops, yes the attack stops.” 

Beth spoke up at once, “that is why there are so many of them that only have a few bite marks or damage.” 

Martine nodded, “The infection spreads fast once someone has been bitten, so if they get away they still die within an hour or so.”  Gillian looked over at Matt she could see he was thinking the same as her.  Martin continued, “As people are attacked and still alive the zombies will keep eating them but once their heart stops, like I said the attack stops but then the dead one...the one they just killed…well, they reanimate within seconds.” 

Devin shuddered.  “That is what happened when Lacy died.  She attacked Norm, then he died and came right back.” 

“Just like Jeremy.”  Matt interjected.

Beth sat with her hand clutching the straps of her backpack, her mind racing.  “That means…. my Dad might be attacking people right now?”  She clamped her eyes shut trying to drive out the mental image of her dead father eating Wes, or her brother.  “Oh god, why is this happening?”  She moaned. 

Thump, thump, thump
, from the side of the armored car made them all jump.  Devin put the truck in gear, “We’ve stayed here too long.” 

The truck rumbled up the alley then turned up the side street getting further away from the flames.  Gaining the open road Beth glanced out the window.  What she saw only made her stomach squirm.  She resigned not to look so she sat with her back against the wall of the truck, her mind still trying to grasp what she just heard.

Matt spoke up breaking into her thoughts, “Well I always knew zombies wouldn’t eat brains.  If they did, a lot more people I know would have been safe.” 

Martin tried to suppress a smile but nodded.  A moment later he noted, “The brain does have something to do with it.  The army guys contend that once the brain is destroyed the virus is also destroyed.”   

Matt pumped his fist.  “Yeah I knew it!  Just like the movies!  No running and no brain eating!  I bet no Rage virus either.”  He sat smiling triumphantly.  Beth wanted to, but refrained from smacking him upside the head.

Welcome

 

The bells continued to toll, urging them on.  Steve ran down the street with Wes close at his heels.  Darkness was falling quickly around them.  Stopping they leaned against the wall of the old drug store.  Steve was panting, “Ok where’s that coming from?  Which church do you suppose?”  He asked to no one.

Wes looked back down the way they came.  The flames for the ball field’s stands painted the sky red.  “Ok so the Mall is no good, and the Ball Park is, hhmm let’s see fucked.  Now we have Church bells and no idea where they are coming from.  So where the hell should we go from here?”  Wes pounded the brick behind him in frustration.  Groping in his front pocket, he pulled out his phone.  He tried Beth’s number again.  Steve stared hopefully at him.  Wed pulled it from his ear and snarled.  “No signal.”

“Come to the church.” 

Steve and Wes stared at each other, shocked. 

“Did you hear that?”  Steve asked.

“There is safety at the church.  Saint Andrew’s Catholic Church on Pine,” proclaimed a faint voice. 

“We are just a few blocks from there, come on.”  Exclaimed Steve.   “This way.” He pointed.  Pausing at the corner of the building, they readied their weapons.  Steve swept around the corner first with Wes covering him.  They kept close to the walls, one looking forward the other behind them.  Coming to the end of the block, they stopped about three feet from the end of the building. 

“Just about a block and a half a to go, past the park, then left on Pine” Steve whispered.  Wes nodded then proceeded around the corner.  At the end of another building they paused.  A chain link fence surrounded a small park.  Steve started forward but froze holding up a hand to halt Wes.

Wes heard it too, cries for help coming from inside the park.  Steve glanced around the building.  Turning quickly back he flattened himself against the wall his eyes wide.  Looking over at Wes he shook his head.  “We have to go into the park.” 

“What!  Why?”  Wes demanded.

“There are a bunch of kids trapped on the play fort.” 

Even though Wes was terrified he nodded his assent.  He knew they had to help.  Taking a deep breath they left the relative safety of the side of the building, running along the fence to the gate.  Wes paused for a second before throwing it open.  He ran through it, Steve right on his heels.  Ahead of them was a play fort.  What caught Wes’ attention was that there was no longer anything
play
about it. 

The playground’s usual cries of joy were replaced with the howls and moan of undead children mixed with screams of terror from the living.  Ashen faced, bloody, and torn the small ghouls were trying to reach five of their former friends and school mates.  The living kids on the fort had several makes shift weapons.  A boy at the top of the slide was pushing the dead back down with a broom.  One girl was throwing bricks, while another was using what looked to be a sling shot.  Her aim was incredible.  A blonde haired boy was holding the swinging bridge.  He looked like a knight with a bat for a sword and a trash can lid as a shield. They could see another boy swinging a shovel at ghouls that were clawing at the edge of platform that lead to the fireman’s pole. 

Wes aimed and fired at a zombie child that was advancing on the boy with the bat.  Steve raised his rifle and took out a girl who was almost at the top of the slide.  As both men took aim a body flew past them knocking into Wes as it passed. 

“That is not fast enough!”  A woman’s voice yelled.

Another person ran past the stunned men.  Wes stared as a grey haired black woman rushed at the zombie children swinging a crowbar.  She was followed by a balding black man who was swinging a large metal bat. 

“Cover them!”  Steve shouted.

Wes aimed and fired, Steve’s rifle blasted.  Something caught Wes’ attention and he glanced behind them. They were no longer alone on the street.   A couple of adult zombies were about twenty feet away shambling down the road toward them. 

Wes ejected his empty clip and loaded a fresh one, turned and fired at the adult zombies.  Steve watched the action at the fort.  The children were being helped down by the older couple.  Ten small corpses litter the playground.

“Help me!”  Wes shouted.

Steve spun around and aimed at one of the advancing undead. 

The woman was beside them, “good job boys.  We need to get to the church.”  She ordered.

The man was herding the children toward Steve and Wes.  A couple of them had started to cry.  “We’ll be ok.  It’s going to be ok.”  He soothed.  Suddenly Steve recognized the woman. 

“Mrs. Johnson?”  He gasped. 

“Hello Steven.  Let’s get to the church.  Clear the way if you would please.” She responded. 

Wes noted that Mr. Johnson, he assumed, had broken the bat.  Wes unsheathed the sword from his back and handed it to the man.

“Nice” He said dropping the broken weapon and taking the shining blade. 

They could see the bell tower of the church, it was less than a half a block away just diagonal to them around and short office building.   Wes dropped the last zombie in the street as the group began to move.  They made it to the end of the office building where Steve stopped.  Their way seemed blocked.  Up ahead were three school buses set up like a fence in front of the steps that led up the heavy oak doors.  At the top of the steps between two flaming trash cans they could see a man.  He spotted them. 

“There is an opening between the buses at the left corner!”  He shouted. 

“THERE!” pointed one of the children. 

“Come one, Come on!”  The man on the stairs urged.

The group ran forward led by the Johnsons.  Reaching the corner, Mrs. Johnson ushered the children through the small gap between the buses.  Just as Steve was about to move ahead a zombie lurched out of nowhere grabbing his arm. 

Trying to wrench free and throw off the ghoul Steve lost his footing and fell.  The zombie tumbled down top of him.   Steve heard the snap of the zombies wrist and felt the pressure on his arm relinquish.  The undead man’s weight was still on him, not letting him up.  It growled and chopped at him.  Steve struggled to push it off.  Its relentless attempts to bite him suddenly stopped when music erupted from Steve’s jacket.

“Beth I hear you calling but I can’t come home right now…”  The zombie looked at the jacket confused.

  Up by the busses Wes tried to aim his rifle, but the zombie had lost interest in the noise and returned to trying to rip Steve’s face off.   Steve, for his part, was able to force the barrel of his rifle sideways into the ghoul’s mouth, keeping it from biting him.  Turning his face from the stench, Steve watched Mr. and Mrs. Johnson disappear through the gap in the busses with the children.

Wes aimed, hesitated, then started to move to aid Steve.  A shout recalled him back to the bus. “Here!”  Mr. Johnson yelled and slid the sword under a bus to Wes.  Wes knelt down, reaching for the hilt.

His fingers barely scraping the metal, “Aw, come on!”  Wes growled stretching further under the vehicle.  His fingers closed over the cold steel.  Scrambling out, Wes held the sword high while running back to Steve.  “Get its head up!”  He cried.

Steve grabbed the barrel and the butt of the rifle, the zombies teeth began to crack on the metal.  Steve forced the head up.  It felt like bench pressing a Buick, pain shot into his shoulder, the zombie was trying to claw through Steve’s jacket.  Slowly Steve forced the zombie’s head up higher until Wes swung at it like a ball on tee.  The ghoul’s head separated from the body and smacked with a thud against the wall. Dark, foul blood oozed over Steve’s chest, he threw the headless body off of him and scrambled to his feet, Wes helping him.  

“Yeah asshole!  Not so tough without a head are you?”  Steve swore as he walked over to the severed head that lay on its side by a stoop.  The eyes in the head watched as Steve approached it, its mouth moved furiously. “Oh you still want some huh?”  Steve ran up and kicked it as hard as he could.  It flew down the street bouncing off a trash can.  “Damn it!”  Steve yelped.  “That bastard’s head was like a fricken rock.” 

Limping, he found Wes laughing at him.  “Feel better?  Come on Beckham.”  Wes continued to laugh while watching the head roll lopsidedly to a stop.  Steve punched Wes in the back of the shoulder as they headed to the gap in the buses.  The man at the top of the stairs was waving them forward into the church.  They squeezed between the busses and hurried up the stairs.  When they gained the top Steve noted the man was a priest. 

“Thank you, Father.”  He said as he passed him and proceeded to the front doors. 

“I’m glad you made it, my son” was his reply.

BOOK: Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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