Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)
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Slow Travels

 

              “Damn it!”  Trevor shouted banging a fist on the dashboard. 

“We had to expect this.”  Devin tried to sooth.  They had tried several routes to get across town to no avail.  They were currently idling on the main road through town.  It was blocked with several wrecked and burning cars. 

“What’s that?”  Beth pointed over Devin’s shoulder. 

“That looks like one of our tactical trucks.”  Max stated with the first note of enthusiasm they had heard from him.  His face too close to Beth’s for comfort as he pushed in to get a look. 

“You’re what?”  Matt now crowded in against Beth.  Annoyance grew in her as she was jostled around so the others could see.  What they were looking at was a deep blue truck buried halfway into a store front.  One of the back doors was shut, the other was halfway open.  The group couldn’t see the inside from their vantage point. 

“Is that like a SWAT squad?”  Beth asked pushing Matt off of her arm. 

“Why would we have that?”  Matt laughed.  “Nothing ever happens here, well it didn’t.”  His smile faltered quickly.

Annoyed Max looked over at Matt, “That annual biker rally we have.”  He stated, as if this explained everything.

“And did we ever have a problem?”  Beth scoffed.

“Does it matter!  There should be plenty of guns, ammo, riot suppression gear and….”

“I knew that was a giant waste of money.”  Martin sighed.  “The bikers were generally really well behaved.  A few arrests for fighting and alcohol related stuff.”

“The riot gear isn’t gonna help much.  I don’t think those things will respond to tear gas.”  Beth thought out loud.

“You were quick enough to go for the ambulance.  That and the Riot gear is made to protect the officer.  I doubt they could bite through it.”  Max grumbled.

It was Gillian who took up the conversation now, “The ambulance had medicine we needed and it was out of the way.  Here we are much closer to…them.”  She pointed to a group of the undead wandering around a car.  “I think we can all agree the weapons are important but we are downtown now and they are thicker here.”

“Which is weird, because I never saw anyone down here when everyone was alive.”  Matt commented. 

“Come on if we are going to do this we should do it sooner than later.  The noise of the truck is only going to bring them out.”  Beth stated. 

“Right, let’s do this then.”  Devin said as he backed the truck up the police vehicle. 

Hector called out directions until they were close enough.  Matt moped at not being trusted to help.  Beth picked her way over the others until she was at the back doors with Hector.  Max was there as well without the usual urging from Hector.  Hector raised an eyebrow at Max as he readied his weapon. 

“What?  This is my idea in a way.  I better be part of it.”  Max explained trying to sound confident, but Beth noticed his hand shook almost too much for him to chamber a round in his weapon. 

The doors swung open, Beth found herself out in the smoky air of her once peaceful hometown.  Her white sneakers kicked rubble from the smashed building when her feet hit the pavement.  An eerie quiet pressed against their ears as only the sound of the truck’s engine could be heard. 

In a flash Max was at the doors of the police van, while Beth and Hector rushed to cover him. Max cringed when the metal banged his arrival.  He stood still with his back against the closed van door. Waiting.  Nothing.  Beth and Hector exhaled.  Max pushed forward on the opened door with his rifle barrel, it creaked it protest.  Taking a calming breath he stepped forward instantly jumping back as the door began to open on its own. 

A tattered deep blue sleeve appeared followed by two white hands.  The face of the dead officer was contorted and white like the hands.  A dark stain covered half of the uniform shirt.  The ghoul stumbled and fell out of the van, hitting the ground hard.  Max ran to it and slammed his knee into the creature’s back.  He swung his rifle high and brought the butt down again and again on the zombie’s head until it stopped struggling. 

Beth watched, stunned by the brutality of Max’s assault, until movement in the van caught her attention.  Another figure was stumbling toward the back of the van.  Beth raised her weapon, Max spun on the zombie’s back his knee pulling at the uniform revealing a deep tear in the former officer’s side.  The bloody face of an old woman appeared out of the shadow. 

Beth guessed the policeman had tried to help the old woman and was repaid with her attacking him.  The woman’s face bore the signs of the officer’s battle to fend her off.  Max grabbed a large brick from the ground.  He was on his feet and met the woman at the back of the van, bringing the brick down hard on the top of her head. 

The woman barely paused, her hands reached for Max’s throat.  The courage he had shown the last few minutes evaporated in an instant with the woman’s advance.  It was Hector’s knife being thrust through the woman’s eye socket that ended the fight.

Max sat next to the zombie officer he had ended.  The terror still etched on his face.  Beth held out a hand to help him to his feet.  Accepting it with a nod, “Come on,” He shakily said, “Let’s get this done and get out of here.”  He stood for a second holding onto Beth’s arm for support.  “Thanks.”  He said to her.  Moving forward he slapped Hector on the back. 

Returning to the door Max pulled a flashlight from his belt, clicked it on and gasped.  The inside was covered in bloody handprints and smears.  In the front driver’s seat arms swung violently trying to reach behind the seat.  Max raised his weapon as he mounted the bumper.  Beth followed him, Hector stood guard.  The pair inched forward, clicks of the zombie’s teeth and grunts filled the empty space.   

Max avoided the flailing arms, weapon raised but relaxed.  The zombie was pinned against the seat by the steering column.  “Must have happened when they hit the building.”  Beth surmised from behind Max. 

Max just stared at the face.  It was smashed and cut with bricks and broken glass.  Its teeth clicked at him from its mutilated mouth.  Max had known the man.  He had been very popular with the women on the force, a very attractive, nice guy.   Max had not liked him but hadn’t really disliked him either.  Now he wished the other officer had made it.  “Come on.  Like you said let’s get this done.”  Beth reminded gently.  Max nodded, raised the butt of his rifle and caved in the zombie’s once handsome face. 

Several minutes later found the three back in the armored car rumbling down the road.  They had recovered a bag full of ammunition, three nine millimeter hand guns, four semi automatic rifles and two shot guns. 

Beth made her way up front handing Devin one of the hand guns while Max and Hector began to give a quick lesson on gun safety and aiming to several of the other members of the truck. 

The Tower  

 

Looking out from the Bell Tower, Steve and Wes were stunned by the damage around them and to the building they were in.  They could see several fires burning out of control in the distance.  The few streets they could see were either completely deserted or had several wrecked or abandoned cars in them.  Around these cars were always signs of violence.  Dark stains on the ground or streaks leading away. 

Wes looked through the scope of his rifle.  He could see movement in one of the closer cars.  Judging by the repetitious movement and the fact that the occupant never left the car, Wes assumed this was not someone they could help.  Wes checked the other cars and windows of surrounding buildings.  Nothing else moved. 

  Steve tapped Wes’ shoulder pointing to the church and school.  Smiling they saw a ten foot high fence surrounding the school and playground.  Steve remembered the high windows in the church itself.  “Man this place was a fortress before they added the buses as a barricade.  Why do you think that was?”  Wes asked. 

Steve shrugged, “Even though we aren’t that big of a city we still had problems down here.”

“Mix that with the paranoid old Priest and well, I guess you see what you get.”  Wes couldn’t stop smiling at the fence.  

Steve nodded.  “Looks like we might be safe here for a bit, but I don’t think that fence will hold out if we get too many of those things.”

Wes leaned out slightly over the railing to get a better look at the fenced in court yard.  “Looks like they bricked up several windows but I think they only painted over a few of those near the end of the building.  That could be trouble.” 

Steve leaned over to see what Wes was looking at.  “Maybe, but it is in the fenced area so we should be ok.”  Then he added, “For now.” 

They spent the next few hours up in the tower watching the streets below.  Occasionally an undead would wander close by, but for the most part nothing moved.  Wes would pull out his phone every now and then to check for a signal but to no avail.  Steve would mirror this every time Wes tried it.

“Where do you think Beth is hiding?”  Wes muttered sliding down to lean his back against the wall as he sat.    

Steve leaned on his elbows watching a piece of newspaper blow down the street, “I hope she got out of town.  Did you notice if the car was still in the garage?”

Wes thought back to the house.  Several terrible jumbled memories fought for dominance in his mind’s eye.  Shaking the thoughts, “I don’t think I went to the garage.” 

Steve merely frowned down at the paper that was now caught in the fence.  Wes stood up and crossed to the other side of the tower looking toward the front of the church. 

Steve watched as another piece of paper blew down the street.  He wondered where all the paper was coming from.  “Why do you always see paper flying around when the streets are deserted in movies?  I never noticed paper flying around any other time.” He asked.  Wes did not answer.  Steve turned to ask again. 

Wes stood still and rigid.  He turned his head slightly to Steve then pointed at another church caddy corner to theirs.  The front doors were slowly opening.  A man dressed as a reverend stumbled out.  One of his arms was missing from the tattered sleeve of his vestments.  Following the reverend were several bloody children dressed in what appeared to be choir robes.  Following the children were a few zombie adults.  “Oh man, no way.” Wes moaned. 

Steve handed Wes his rifle.  The two men fired several rounds at the group until nothing was moving on the street except Steve’s tumbling papers. 

They stood staring down at the scene.  The image of a small head exploding still burned into Wes’ vision every time he closed his eyes.  After sweeping the scene several times to make sure nothing was getting back up Wes slumped down against the wall and checked his ammo.

“God, how many times am I going to have to kill dead kids?”  He asked angrily, refilling his clip and slapping it into his gun.

Steve gripped his own gun shaking his head.  “Is this what life was going to be now?  How many times will we have to do this?  What is our alternative?  How do we get out of here?”  One thought chased the other through his head. 

Rest Please

 

Darkness had begun to fall fast.  Devin pulled on the headlights.  The instrument panel illuminated showing they had used almost a half a tank of gas as they wandered through the city.  Many of the streetlights had lit but no lights came from any shops or windows.  It gave the impression of driving down an endless tunnel broken only here and there with small fires and wreckage. 

There was no sound in the truck except for the engine.  It had been many hours since the emergency broadcast had ended to static on the truck’s radio. 

Beth looked around at the other passengers.  Hector was checking ammo and loading weapons with Max’s help.  Gillian was talking quietly to Matt who kept looking down at the shot gun in his hands.  Bill and Martin had found a pack of cards somewhere and were playing poker.  Stancy held her arms tight to her and glared at no one in particular.  Trevor sat in the passenger seat trying to help Devin navigate.

“We could try Elm over to Menoher.”  He suggested.

“Elm was closed with sewer work.  The whole street is torn up.  There is no way we would get through.”  Devin sighed.  "You never read my memos.” 

“How much further to the factory?”  Hector asked, finishing the last of the loading.  He put the remaining ammo boxes back into the bag they had taken from the van. 

“I think if the road stays clear we should be there in ten minutes.”  Devin replied. 

“We’d be there in five if you’d pick up the pace.”  Stancy grumbled.  “It’s not like there is a speed limit, and besides you’ve got a cop and the stinking Mayor with you for crying out loud.” 

Devin chose to ignore her and kept the vehicle moving at a slow pace. 

“Seriously what is the hold up?  You’ve got a seat, we’re crammed in here like sardines.”

“If someone is alive and hears the truck I want to give them every opportunity to get to us.”  Devin replied calmly. 

“Well there have been plenty of things hearing us.  The problem is none of them have been alive.” 

Devin ignored her and kept the same pace. 

“I don’t want to agree with the unpleasant one, but it is a bit cramped back here.”  Bill spoke up. 

Devin sighed, “I want to give anyone around here a chance to get to us.”

“Why?  Because this is a black neighborhood?”  Stancy grumbled. 

Again Devin ignored her but Beth noticed from his profile that his jaw tighten as did his grip on the wheel.  She also noticed they had gained a little speed.  Beth got up and knelt down next to Devin’s seat.  She placed a hand on his arm, “You ok?”

Gillian appeared over Beth’s shoulder.  “I think Bill is right, we all need a little space from her and each other.”

Devin nodded and sped up a bit more as they reached the end of some row homes.  The outline of the old factory was barely visible in the fading light against the mountains.  It was still a ways off but it felt like relief from the cramped conditions was close at hand. 

Reaching the fenced front gate, Devin pushed through slowly with the truck.  The rusty chain holding the gate shut gave out, with a squeal the gate opened. 

Once through the fence Hector jumped out and closed the gate, holding it in place with some zip ties they had found in the bag taken from the police van. 

Other than one security light in the lot there were no other lights on in the building.  Devin made sure to stay out of the pool of light as he drove up to the front of the building.  They couldn’t see any movement inside the front and all the windows were either boarded up or too dark to see into. 

“This should be perfect.”  Max exclaimed.

BOOK: Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)
2.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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