The Real Night of the Living Dead (19 page)

The cop bit his lip and gripped his gun tighter, thought the professor was trying to be a wise guy. “You got three seconds, and then I’m going to have to shoot the both of you.”

I crouched down and placed the revolver on the ground. The professor followed.

The young cop walked from behind the car door, the gun still on us. He kicked our guns away as he searched us with his eyes. “What’s in the bag?”

“That’s where I keep the ammo,” I said.

He gazed up the road and saw the three dead creatures, then looked at dead ― soon to be undead if we didn’t do something about it ― Hank. “You responsible for killing these people?” he said to me as he noticed the flesh missing from Hank’s face. “Did somebody bite him?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And if we don’t put a bullet in his brain, he’s going to try and do it to you.”

He ignored me as he said, pointing his .45 Colt revolver, “Both of you, over to the car.” We followed him to the rear of the two-door Plymouth. “Drop the bag and put your hands on the trunk.”

 
We did what we were told for now. I didn’t want to get plugged by a copper, but I knew I would have to do something to get away from him.

The cop looked at the professor’s backside showing through the gown. “Why aren’t you wearing any pants, pops?”

The wise professor turned his head back to the cop and said in a sarcastic tone, “I was in a rush leaving for the office this morning. I must have mistakenly left them on the bed.”

He gave the professor a disgusted look,
then
noticed the blood on his shoulder. “You get bitten too?”

“No, officer.
I was shot.”

“He
shoot
you?” he said, motioning to me.

“Oh no,” the professor said, shaking his head. “This good man saved me.”

“Is that right?” He paused. “So who shot you?”

“The obese fellow lying dead in the street, or temporarily dead, should I say?”

The officer stared at the professor,
then
looked over at dead Hank. A few seconds passed. He leaned in his car, grabbing his radio, telling the dispatcher his name, Officer Antonio, and that he would need backup at
Byberry
, the state hospital. “Stay here,” he said to the two of us, then walked over to inspect Hank’s body.

I stretched my head up to peek over the roof of the Plymouth and saw the cop kneeling down beside Hank.

Then I saw an infected appear from out of the darkness, through the trees that lined Southampton Road, and tackle the cop.

After seeing the bite wounds on Hank’s body, the cop knew enough not to let this creature sink her teeth into his flesh, which she was trying to do, but the cop was pushing her off with his forearm as beads of sweat developed on his forehead.

As I ran over to help, with the professor behind me, I saw two more running out of the field. These three were the creatures who had crossed the field and got caught up in the mud.

I pulled the creature off the cop; saliva mixed with blood was oozing out of her mouth and onto his sharp pressed uniform.

The professor grabbed the two guns from the ground and began firing one at the two runners moving our way.

I heard other screams and turned toward the nurses’ house up the road.

Another two were exiting through the door and walking toward us.

I grabbed my revolver from the professor.

Officer Antonio was on his feet now, looking confused, trying to subdue the woman who attacked him, while watching the professor shoot another woman in her chest and continue running like it didn’t bother her.

I shot and killed the second creature running from the field.

As she dropped dead to the street, another ten or more emerged from the field. They were running our way.

And just like that, we were outnumbered.

Chapter Thirty-one

“Get in the car,” I shouted, my wide eyes staring at the approaching marauders.

The professor didn’t waste a second. He ran to the Plymouth.

Antonio was unsure, still holding the woman by her gown as she tried to bite his hand.

There wasn’t time to fool around. I put the gun to the woman’s temple and pulled the trigger. Brains and bones splattered onto the cop’s pants.

He stared at me, shocked.

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing his arm and running to his patrol car as the runners gained on us.

He hopped in the driver’s side and shut his door. I was right behind the professor, climbing in the passenger’s side. The professor slid to the middle as I sat and slammed the door.

A running creature was only inches behind me and was now slapping his hands against the door.

Another jumped on the hood and was glaring at us with her dead eyes.

Officer Antonio shouted, “Get off the vehicle. You’re all under arrest.”

“Would you drive off before they kill us,” I shouted to the cop. I was scared and panicking.

The rest of the runners had surrounded the heavy Plymouth and were pounding and shaking it.

I had the satchel on my lap and was loading the revolver, preparing to shoot these monsters if they happened to break the window.

The cop still hadn’t put the car in Drive. He was too busy in shock, gazing at the infected woman on the hood now, the huge chunk of flesh missing from her face and throat. The bite must have torn into a main artery, because blood was shooting out of her neck and splashing onto the black hood.

“Sweet Jesus,” said Antonio, his jaw dropped. He was looking past the woman on the hood, at Hank. “I saw him. I checked him. He was dead…Dead….”

Hank was slow to get up, but he was getting up. Hank the security guard who wanted to kill me was now one of the infected creatures. He looked around like he wasn’t sure where he was,
then
he saw the headlights of the Plymouth and turned in our direction.

Now Hank was screaming, running our way, about to join the party.

One of the creatures threw their head back and slammed it into the driver door window, causing it to crack.

“Move it, flatfoot,” I shouted.

That got him going. He stepped on the gas pedal, and the Plymouth sped down Southampton Road. Most of the creatures fell back, away from the car.

The woman was still on the hood as the speeding police vehicle collided with the charging Hank. His legs cracked as they met the Plymouth emblem on the front of the car. He was sent sailing toward the windshield and the woman, slammed into her, forcing her face to crash into the hood, denting it, and then his head hit the windshield on my side.

The windshield crack and was stained with his blood.

The cop was zigzagging down the road, trying to throw the two creatures off.

The car raised up on his side, like we had ran over speed bumps, but we didn’t. We ran over two of the creatures that I had killed earlier who came from the nurses’ house.

“Stop the car,” I said. “Just stop the goddamn car.”

He stopped the car in the middle of the street.

I stepped out, the revolver in my hand.

Hank pushed himself up from the hood. His stale yellow eyes gazed at me, and he screamed.
A loud scream.
Louder than I had heard any of them scream. I had to wonder if he remembered me and how much he hated me.

I didn’t give him any time to attack. I pointed the revolver to his forehead and pulled the trigger.

Hank was dead…for the second time.

The woman was crawling across the hood, trying to reach me.

I didn’t let her get a chance to step to the street. I fired a shot. The back of her head exploded and painted the windshield.

I sat back in the car and looked at the cop.

He was in utter shock.

I said, “I told you to let me put one in his head.”

He kept staring out the window.

The professor hit the button, and the wipers crossed over the windshield, smearing the blood and bits of flesh toward the edges. He said to the cop, “Unbelievable. Is it not, Mr. Antonio?”

The cop gazed at the professor. Then he grabbed his radio and said, “Dispatch. This is Car 27. I need immediate assistance at
Byberry
Mental…
er
…uh…Philadelphia State.”

The dispatcher said, “What’s the problem?”

He hesitated before saying, “I…I can’t even begin to explain. Um…We have a riot on our hands. At least five people that I know of have been murdered.
Hospital staff and patients among the victims.
And I am quite positive that there are
more dead
.”

I said, “We need to get to the children’s camp. Make a left up ahead…”

The cop interrupted, saying, “No way. I’m not moving until backup arrives.”

“Listen, Officer Tony…”

“Antonio’s my last name,” he interrupted. “Don’t call me Tony. Vincent Antonio, that’s my name.”

“Pal, I don’t care if your name is President Truman. What I’m trying to tell you is there are women and children in those buildings that need help. Our help,” I said. “Now if you don’t get moving then I’ll walk there myself.” He stared at me, contemplating his decision. “I know for a fact they’re in danger. I called S-3, and a nurse there said a few of them had been bitten. That means they’re infected and will die and come back, just like the security guard. To make matters worse, these people who were bitten are barricaded in the same ward as the ones who weren’t, so someone needs to get there and save them before it’s too late. Get me?”

He nodded, saying, “Yeah.” He stepped on the gas, and the Plymouth continued up the road just as the runners we left behind were catching up again.

Their shrieks and moans made me shiver. I could never get used to a sound so terrifying.

The cop looked in the rearview mirror at them behind us and said, “What happened?”

“Doctors were testing a new polio vaccine and, long story short, it didn’t work. This happened.”

“They say seeing is
believing
,” said Officer Antonio. “I don’t agree. For the first time in my life,
I’m not trusting
my own eyes. I can’t accept what I saw happen back there.”

I said, “I felt the same way, see? But after seeing it happen over and over all night long, it’s
sorta
beaten into your head to believe it.”

The crossroad was getting closer.

As Antonio slowed down to make a left, an army of the creatures walked into the road.

It was too late to react.

Antonio screamed.

Chapter Thirty-two

The Plymouth plowed right into them.

The cop jammed on the brakes as the creatures bounced off the patrol car, some of them crashing into the door windows and smashing them.

I couldn’t tell how many were around us, but it was enough that all I could see outside the car were the infected.

The window on my side was shattered from one of the creatures whose head drove into it. Now they were reaching in, moaning and grabbing onto my shirt.

“Step on the gas,” I shouted.

I pulled up my revolver and began firing at the clawing monsters, but as soon as one fell, another took his place trying to yank me out of the car.

The professor, sitting beside me, was doing his best to help. His arm was held straight, the tip of the gun peeking out the busted window, while he fired at the lifeless cannibals.