Authors: Glyn Gardner
Oh shit, Tom! “Is he dead?” he whispered.
“Yes,” She whispered.
“How’s Larry taking it?”
“He’s still asleep. I wanted to wake you first. What do we do now? I still can’t do it.”
“No, we get the hell out of here. It sounds like it’s pretty empty out there. Let’s get to the cars and head towards Monroe.”
She didn’t say anything. She just crawled to the two teens. Mike could hear her as she woke them up. He could hear Larry ask Jen if it was over. Then he heard the young man start to cry. Next he heard Jen wake Theresa. She too asked if “he’s dead.” They all shuffled to the door where Mike waited.
“Ok, Larry, you got the keys to that yellow car?”
“No sir, I think they’re in my dad’s pocket. You still want two cars?” the youngster whispered.
“Yeah, I do. The more space we have, the more stuff we can carry, and the more options we have.”
“Ok, I’ll get them. I need to say good-bye anyway.” The boy crawled over to the corner where the body of his father lay. Mike could hear the boy crying as he searched his father’s pockets. Jingle, Jingle, good he had them.
Suddenly, they heard a moan. It was faint at first, like air escaping from a bellows. They heard another, this one louder. Then they heard Larry grappling with something. CRASH, a section of shelving fell to the floor.
“Mike!” in a loud whisper
“Larry. You ok?” asked Mike as he flipped on the lights.
Larry was on his back, his father’s re-animated corpse on top of him. He had one hand around his father’s neck, and the other reaching towards Mike and Jen. Mike reached for his pistol. BANG! It was the shotgun. Theresa had fired first. Stunned, Mike first looked at the teenage girl, then back to the fight. Larry was on the ground howling in pain, blood pouring from several wounds in his neck and face. Tom’s head had exploded and his lifeless body now lay across his son’s body, black blood pouring onto his son.
“Oh Jesus!” cried Theresa. “Larry! I didn’t mean to shoot Larry.”
Mike took two steps to cover the
distance to the boy and his father. He grabbed the pistol out of the boy’s waistband. He aimed it at the wounded child’s head. “Sorry Larry.” BANG! The boy stopped howling.
“Go! Get to the Tahoe,” he barked.
Jen threw the lock and opened the door. Theresa hesitated for a second. She was still in shock from shooting Larry. A large zombie was standing in the doorway. Jen screamed in terror, backing away from the door. The large zombie advanced on her, reaching for her as it did. In her panic, Jen backed into Mike, knocking him to the ground and sending Larry’s pistol skittering across the floor.
The zombie continued to advance on the two. Mike crab walked backwards, trying to free his own pistol as he did. Jen rolled left, towards the now lifeless bodies of the Landry family. As the zombie passed the still stunned Theresa, it turned on her.
“Theresa!” yelled Jen.
At the last possible moment, Theresa kicked the ghoul in the chest, sending it staggering back a couple of steps. She pumped the shotgun and shoved the barrel under the zombie’s chin. BANG! The top of its head exploded in a blackish-pink mist. She pumped the shotgun again.
“C’mon you guys. We’ve got to go,” ordered the teenage girl. She turned and exited the store room. Mike and Jen got up, following the teen.
“Grab the rifle,” Mike told her as he picked up the pistol.
BANG! Click-click, BANG! Click-click. Jen entered the front of the store, rifle at the ready. Theresa had dispatched two more ghouls. There were three more in the store, and another coming in through the front door. Jen took aim at the closest zombie. CRACK! She hit it in the shoulder. It stumbled backwards, but continued closing on the teenager.
CRACK! This time she struck the monster in the neck, severing its spine. It dropped to the floor, unable to do anything more than open and close its mouth.
By now, Mike had emerged. BANG! BANG! BANG! He dropped two more zombies, leaving the one closest to the door. Theresa advanced on it, shotgun to her shoulder. At about three paces, she pulled the trigger: CLICK! The gun was empty. Fighting back panic, she began backing up. Mike came from behind her, and dispatched the last monster in the store. He handed her his .40 cal.
“Here, give it back when we get to the truck.”
They opened the front door. There were three monsters between them and the Tahoe and a couple more that were closing on the store. Mike took careful aim. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! The three monsters fell to the ground, for the final time.
“Go!” shouted Mike.
The three sprinted to the Tahoe in a macabre race with the living dead. They reached the SUV, well ahead of those ghouls that were bent on devouring them. Jen jumped into the driver’s seat, Mike the passenger seat, and Theresa in the back seat. With a roar, the big Chevy came to life.
“There are more shotgun shells in my backpack,” Mike told Theresa. She rummaged through the rear of the vehicle as Jen gunned the engine. Tires squealed as she fishtailed out of the parking lot.
The Burger Joint
SSgt Brown woke to the sound of gunfire. It was pretty close. It didn’t sound like
M-16’s or any other military weapons. That meant civilians.
“Jackson. You awake?”
“Roger Sergeant. I been up since you woke me at 0300.”
“Any idea what’s up?”
“Sounds like some civvies are up the street shooting it out with Zed.”
“How long?
“Just started. I count three weapons: Shotgun, rifle, and pistol. I figure at least two survivors out there.”
“What time is it?” asked the noncom.
“0405,” answered the trooper.
“Ok, sit tight and keep your eyes open. That’s going to draw some attention. We got a few hours yet before we need to be at the PZ.”
They both heard the engine start. Shit, thought the NCO, they have a car, then the squealing of tires. The sound of the engine was getting closer. Shit, thought SSgt Brown. There were people out there. They were in Indian country. They sure sounded like they could use some help. If nothing else, they were armed and could at least help each other out. Plus, he might be able to get them on the bird and onto the safety of the air force base.
“Jackson, what’s the Zed situation outside?”
“Clear to the road. Why?”
“Out the window trooper, we’re going to rescue some more civvies.”
“Shit,” he replied; then, “Roger Sergeant.” He climbed out the drive-through window, dropping quietly to the ground. He crouched down, weapon at the ready. His NCO followed him out, taking a position to his left. They could both see the lights of the big SUV as it sped towards them on the road.
“Flashlight,” ordered the NCO.
Jackson pulled the L shaped flashlight with the red filter off of his left shoulder. With his right thumb, he pressed the button several times, flashing the red light at the approaching civilians.
“What the hell is that?” asked Mike, pointing at the flashing red light near the fast food restaurant. “Shit, pull over! It looks like people.” Jen let off the gas and braked as she turned into the parking lot. The headlight shone on two kneeling figures in military gear, rifles held at the ready.
“Theresa, you find those shells?” asked Jen.
“Yes ma’am. I’m re-loaded.”
“Good, be ready. Not sure what’s up here.”
The taller of the two soldiers stood and walked to the driver’s side of the SUV. The shorter black trooper kept his weapon pointed down the road in the direction they had come. Jen rolled down the window.
“Was I speeding officer?”
SSgt Brown couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m Staff Sergeant Brown, Louisiana National Guard, and ma’am, Would you mind turning off your headlights? It’s killing my night vision, and they’re probably going to attract some unwelcome attention.” She turned off the headlights, but not the engine.
“Sergeant,” said Mike. “You and your trooper may want to get in the truck. We probably passed twenty or so of those monsters. They know where we are and I’m sure they’ll be here shortly.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “Jackson, these nice folks have offered to give us a ride.”
“Yes sir,” the young trooper said. He climbed in the back seat next to Theresa, followed by SSgt Brown. Jen rolled her window up.
“Where you guys headed,” SSgt Brown asked.
“Monroe,” answered Mike. “Radio was saying something about a refugee center there or Alexandria. How about you guys? You guys the cavalry?”
“Well kind of. We are part of the One-Hundred-Eighth Cavalry Louisiana National Guard. And we did come up here to try to stabilize the situation.”
“Hey guys,” Theresa interrupted. “We’ve got to go. We’re drawing a crowd.”
They could see twenty or so creatures in the parking lot they were in. The closest -only a few feet from the rear bumper of the SUV. Jen slammed the gear shifter into drive and gunned the engine. She turned on the lights at the same time. The lights illuminated even more ghouls coming from the direction of the highway. She turned the wheel hard to the right, towards the road, and out of the parking lot.
“Get on the highway!” shouted SSgt Brown.
“Which way?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter, that’s the PZ for a Blackhawk in a couple of hours.” Jen slowed as she weaved through the un-human traffic. As she neared the highway the traffic thinned. She drove up the off ramp. She stopped at the top, facing the wrong direction.
“Now what do we do?”
“Back up onto the overpass. These things can’t climb worth a damn.”
She did as he told her. When she reached the center of the overpass, she turned off the engine, and the lights. SSgt Brown and Pvt. Jackson dismounted the vehicle, moving to separate sides of the bridge. They could see a pack of zombies moving under the overpass. SSgt Brown moved back to the vehicle, holding his finger to his lips.
“Looks like they lost us,” he whispered. He pointed down, indicating the line of lost souls meandering below their feet. “If you want to get out, do it quietly.”
The three civilians exited the Tahoe. Mike extended his hand to SSgt Brown.
“Mike Davis,” he whispered.
“Dave Brown,” replied the NCO. “That’s Private Jackson,” he said as the young trooper joined the little group.
“So, how did you guys end up in the parking lot of a damned burger joint with a city full of zombies around you?” Jen and Theresa gathered around the soldiers.
SSgt Brown told them everything that the troopers had seen over the past several days. He told them what he had learned from the Air Force intelligence officer. He told them of Pvt. Anderson and the school children. He choked up when he told them about that first day.
Mike then told the story of the civilians. He told of the first zombie, then the crowd. He told of the police officers and of his neighbors valiant efforts to save each other. Jen hugged a crying Theresa when Mike told them about Davy, and finally about the gas station.
No one in the group could sleep for the next few hours. Mike couldn’t help but feel they were sitting ducks on top of an overpass in the middle of a long highway. He climbed on top of the Tahoe to survey their surroundings. The moon was bright, and visibility was pretty good.
Mike could see a large traffic jam in the west bound lanes, heading into Bossier from Monroe. He could count about 20 cars about 300 yards down the road. Several were in the median, two were rolled over, and an 18 wheeler was jack-knifed behind it all. He could swear he could see movement from inside the traffic jam. Na, he thought, must just be his imagination.
To the south of his perch, he could see the air force base. He saw large, multi-engine aircraft on the tarmac. He recognized them as B-52’s. He could see lights moving back and forth along the flight line. Mike realized that he was looking at more activity than he’s seen in about a week. Something inside yearned to be on that base. He thought of the safety that comes with numbers. Then he thought about the fence. What he wouldn’t have given to have a good solid fence to surround their house with for the last week or so.
He continued starring into that world, the world of safety and security. He thought about the cafeteria at the plant. He imagined that the Air Force Base must have a cafeteria or two with a couple cooks. Eggs, he was going to order about half-a-dozen over easy when he got there. And bacon, oh yes bacon, six or eight pieces of bacon with coffee.
His thoughts were pulled from food by a sudden flurry of flashes. After each flash, he could barely make out a faint pop. The flashes and sounds were coming from a built up area just west of the flight line. It started out is a few maybe two or three at a time, then it picked up. For a moment Mike couldn’t figure out what he was seeing and hearing.
“Gun fire,” SSgt Brown whispered. Mike hadn’t even realized that the soldier had joined him on the SUV.
“I was just thinking how safe and secure we’ll be once we get on that base,” replied Mike after a moment.