Authors: Glyn Gardner
Jen grabbed the backpacks, and the shovel. She tossed them over the edge of the roof. Mike policed them up and climbed back into the garage. Theresa returned with both coolers full of water. She tied the rope around the handles, and began lowering them down to the backyard. Mike returned.
“Ok, ladies, anything else up there?”
“No Mike. We’re coming down now.”
Jen jumped down first. She hit the ground, rolling to her left. Theresa took one last look back. She tossed down her father’s carbine down. BAM! It went off. Mike climbed out the window as Theresa hit the ground, rolling just like Jen had done.
“Sorry Mike. I must have forgotten to put the safety on. Is everyone ok?”
“Yeah,” he replied pointing at the back door. “But, it looks like you got the attention of the neighbors.” Several of the zombies inside were pulling at the entertainment center that was blocking the door. “Time to go, Theresa.” She climbed into the garage, followed closely by Mike.
Jen was already in the driver’s seat. Mike climbed into the passenger seat, and Theresa took the back seat. Jen started the car and hit the garage door button. The big black SUV fired to life as the garage door opened in front of them. Holy shit, thought Mike. The driveway was packed with zombies. They closed on the trio in the SUV.
“Gun it!” Mike yelled. Jen slammed her right foot to the floor. The SUV lurched forward. Several of the zombies fell as the Tahoe charged down the driveway. Jen cut the wheel to the right, taking the most direct route out of the neighborhood. Several of the zombies moved towards the speeding SUV. Jen swerved to avoid them. The SUV slammed into a car parked on the left side of the road.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Damn, thought Jen. She slammed the gear shift into reverse. She saw several of the ghouls shuffling towards the back of the SUV. The nurse jammed her foot on the gas. The car lurched backwards with a screech, knocking two of the zombies to the ground. She threw the transmission into drive. The car shot forward again. This time Jen did not try to miss the zombies. She rounded the corner. There were a handful of the shuffling monsters in the street. Most of the zombies on this street had surrounded a one story brick house with blue shutters.
“Look on the roof,” screamed Theresa. The trio could see two figures on the roof of the house. One was a man, the other a teenager.
“That’s Larry Landry and his dad. We gotta help them.”
Jen slammed on the brakes.
“What are you doing, Jen?”
“We gotta help, Mike.”
“No, we don’t Jen. We can’t help them.”
“Yes we can.” She jammed her foot on the gas pedal, turned hard on the wheel, and began honking the horn. The SUV jumped the curb, bouncing several times. The zombies surrounding the house turned on the SUV. Jen jammed on the brakes, and threw the Tahoe in reverse. As she backed away, the mob of zombies followed the SUV as it retreated back down the street. After two houses, Jen slowed the Tahoe down.
“What are you doing,” cried Theresa.
“I have an idea.” She slammed the transmission into drive again. She drove over the curb, knocking a few more of the zombies to the ground. As she pulled the SUV to the edge of the roof she opened the sunroof.
“Hurry, get in,” she yelled. Larry jumped onto the roof, and then climbed into the sunroof. Mr. Landry grabbed the gym bag that was beside him on the roof. He jumped down onto the roof. His foot slipped from underneath him, sending him sliding onto the hood. He scrambled to climb the windshield. Mike quickly unbuckled his seat belt.
“Help him,” cried Theresa. But even as she finished the order, she realized it was too late. The wave of dead had reached the SUV. The car began rocking from the bodies slamming against it. Mike stood in the sunroof, reaching for Mr. Landry. Mr. Landry reached out to Mike, grabbing his hands.
“Go! Go! Go!” The Tahoe lurched backwards, Mike and Mr. Landry holding onto each other for dear life. Jen slammed on the brakes. Mike pulled hard and Mr. Landry finally fell through the sunroof. She slammed the car back into drive and gunned it, a slow wave of dead shuffling behind them.
“Did they get you?” Mike asked excitedly.
“No,” he replied. He paused to catch his breath. “Thank you for stopping. I thought that Larry and I were going to die on that roof.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Larry repeated, looking at Theresa.
“You’re welcome,” replied Mike. “How long have you guys been up there?”
“Three days,” replied Mr. Landry. “Those things showed after Larry’s mom went to work about four days ago. We didn’t even notice them until they started pounding on the door. I almost opened it. But for some reason, I used the peep hole.” He paused, inhaling deeply.
“I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There must have been thirty of them on my lawn. I yelled at Larry to look out the window. That was when the trouble started. Every single one of those things I could see turned. I swear they all could see me through the peephole. Next thing, they’re at my door and windows banging and clawing. Oh, let’s not forget that incessant moaning.” He lit a cigarette without asking. No one said a word.
“After a day or so, they broke a window. We hid in the garage for a while, but they started banging on the garage door. Then, Larry had a great idea. We headed up to the attic, and pulled the ladder up. I thought we were good. Those things wondered off after a while.” He pulled a long drag from his cigarette.
“So, Larry went down for some food and water.” He exhaled the smoke as he continued. “There must have been a few still in the house. Larry came charging up the ladder screaming bloody murder, two of those things hot on his heels.” He took another drag.
“So there we were us at the top of a ladder we couldn’t pull, and them at bottom of the same ladder they couldn’t climb. It was like a Mexican stand-off, except their moaning must have been attracting more. Soon there were like ten in my garage reaching and clawing to get to us.”
“So how the hell did you guys end up on the roof?” asked Mike.
“Oh, it was dad’s best idea ever,” interjected Larry. “We had an old fan in the attic. You know the kind on a stand that spins in a little half-circle. We used that to scrape a hole in the wood of the roof. We just climbed through hoping to flag down some help like a couple of flood victims.”
“You hear from your wife? Is she ok?” asked Jen
He flipped the cigarette bit out of the sunroof. “We tried to call Jess, but she didn’t answer. We haven’t heard from anyone in days. You guys have any idea how widespread this is?”
“It looks like it’s all over this area,” replied Mike. “I talked my brother in Atlanta a few days ago. He said there was some other violence in some other cities, but mostly here and in Texas. I’m not sure now though. TV’s been running the same announcement for the past two days.”
Jen hit a button on her steering wheel. The radio burst alive with static. She hit another button and the radio began to scan the channels. It ran through all of the FM channels twice before she changed to AM. Finally the radio stopped.
“…has issued a state of emergency. All military reservist and National Guard units are currently being called up and federalized. The mayors of both Shreveport and Bossier City have issued evacuation orders. People are being advised that emergency shelters are being set up in West Monroe, and Alexandria. People are advised, once again, to move to these shelters if they do not have anywhere else to go…”
“What the hell is going on?” asked Mr. Landry.
“Sounds like this thing is big,” replied Mike. There was a moment or two of silence. Mike thought about what the radio had said. Go east or south. Or, don’t go north or west. Why? “Did you notice that they didn’t say anything about Texas? I mean why would we only evacuate east and south?”
“…Outbreaks have been reported in forty-two states, the District of Columbia, as well as twenty-six foreign countries, including England, Germany, France, South Africa, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Australia, Brazil, Mexico, Canada, and Japan…”
“I guess that’s your answer Mr. Mike,” added Theresa.
“Holy Shit,” Mike whispered. Mr. Landry lit another cigarette. Jen took it from his lips and pulled a long drag off of it.
“Thanks Mr. Landry. Think I need one of these today,” she said after exhaling a cloud of smoke.
“It’s Tom. Looks like we’re gonna be traveling together for a while. My friends call me Tom.”
“I’m Jen, this is Mike, and this is Theresa.” She jerked the wheel left as she pulled onto the main four-lane. The street was utterly and totally deserted. “Where to now guys,” she asked.
“We need to get some supplies. Let’s see what we can get from the gas station up here on the right.”
The Body Shop
“It’s not that bad Sarge,” pleaded Anderson.
“Damn it Anderson your fever’s so bad your shivering.”
“Don’t sweat it Sarge. I was out hunting last week. So I got a few tick bites. Won’t be the first time someone got Lyme disease during deer season. Face it boss, you need all the help you can get. What you got; an old fat teacher two scared kids and Jackson? You need every swingin’ Richard you can get.”
“Ok, but you’re watches are two hours only. You drink plenty, and get some rest.”
“No problem Sarge,” the trooper responded.
“Go rest, I’ll get you in a few hours.” Anderson trotted out to the service bay. The troopers had fashioned a couple of hammocks between the lifts in the bay. SSgt Brown picked up the phone, dialing battalion HQ. Colonel Pinson himself answered.
“First of the One-Oh-Eighth.”
“Sir, it’s Staff Sergeant Brown.”
“Dave, it’s good to hear from you. What’s your status?” The fact that the Colonel had addressed him by his first name did not escape SSgt Brown.
“No real change. The little sick girl died this morning. So, three troopers, three civilians, food and water ok for now. We have about 250 rifle rounds.”
“Sorry to hear about the little girl. We’ve had some deaths here too. I’m down to about 150 warm bodies here.”
“Any word on how we’re getting outa here?”
“That I do have. Sergeant, you need to move your team north from your present location. The 101
st
out of Fort Campbell will be reinforcing the Air Force base. Their advanced team is on the ground now. The area you’re in is way too hot for ground evac. They will evac you from the intersection of interstate 220 and Swan Lake at 1500 hours tomorrow. Do you have a good map?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Rest tonight, call me in the morning, and get your people to the evac point. The bird won’t land until they see you on the ground at the PZ”
“Yes sir.”
SSgt Brown looked at the map. He didn’t relish the thought of having to walk his people four or five miles up a two lane road, Surrounded by neighborhoods and apartment complexes. Be a damned good place for an ambush. Shit!
A common military phrase popped into his head. SNAFU: Situation Normal All Fucked Up. How much more fucked up could it be? Out of touch, surrounded, and responsible for three civilians; what could be worse?
He mounted the stairs. Jackson was looking out the window. He stood and stretched as SSgt Brown approached. “No change Sergeant. They just keep shuffling around. Heard some choppers about an hour ago.”
“Yeah, the Colonel said that the 101
st
is coming down to reinforce the base.”
“The 101
st
you mean from way up in Kentucky? Why them?”
“I don’t know, because they’re airmobile. Who do I look like the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?”
“I’m just sayin’ Sarge. We got 2 big scary divisions, including 1
st
Cav, 5 hours away at Fort Hood. Why aren’t they riding to the rescue?”
“Maybe they’re busy. Or, shit I don’t know. You think too much. Go get some sleep. Anderson will wake you up in about six hour.”
“Roger,” replied the trooper. He headed down stairs.
SSgt Brown stood his watch, thinking about what tomorrow would hold. He barely noticed the sun setting in the west. After his four hours, he trotted down stairs. Anderson was sleeping in his hammock, shaking from the fever. SSgt Brown thought about letting the trooper sleep. But, he decided that he too would need rest before tomorrow’s excursion through Indian country.
Anderson rose without a word, rubbed his eyes, and shuffled towards the stairs. SSgt Brown crawled into the newly vacated hammock, kicking his boots off as he did.
Highway 80 Bossier City LA
The SUV pulled into the gas station. There was a small Japanese car, and an older American muscle car parked beside the gas station. The driver’s door of the small care was open. There was no one in either vehicle that any of the group could see.
Mike and Mr. Landry headed into the store, Mike with his pistol, and Tom with the shotgun.
“Ok, let’s see if anyone’s home,” Mike told Tom. “We stick together in here if anything happens.”
“Ok. I’m right behind you.”
“Remember, any of those things in here, shoot ‘em in the head. But, please don’t shoot me.”
“Don’t worry Mike. I did Desert Storm One. I know my way around one of these things.” Mike opened the door. The bell on the top of the door was the loudest bell Mike had ever heard. He reached up with this left hand and tried to muffle the sound. He was sure that the entire town could hear it.
They continued into the convenience store. There was blood on the counter, a lot of blood. Mike heard a faint moan. He pointed to Tom and then made a circling motion with his left hand, indicating he go around the counter. He then pointed to himself and motioned over the counter. Tom circled to the side of the counter, shotgun at the ready. Mike leaned quickly over the counter, pistol leading the way.
“Ugh!” Mike almost vomited at the sight in front of him. The clerk was on the ground, head partially severed from his body. The hand and leg on the right side of the body began to flail at the newcomers. The left arm and leg remained motionless. The monster tried to pull itself up, but fell as it put weight on its left leg.
BAM! Tom fired the shotgun. The creature’s head exploded, splattering gore all over the back of the counter and Mike.
“Ugh!” Mike wiped the blood and brains from his face. Jen and the teens came running into the store. Jen noticed the blood on Mikes face. Looking around, she spotted some cases of bottled water. She grabbed two bottles, unscrewing the cap on the first.
“Here,” she said, pushing Mike’s head to the side. She poured the water into his eye near his nose, allowing it to run down his eye, and off his face. She jerked his head the other way, and repeated the process with the other eye.
“I’m not sure how contagious this is. Let’s try to reduce our exposure, ok folks.”
Mike walked quickly over to the now-opened case of water, and grabbed another bottle. He twisted the top and began swishing the water in his mouth and spitting the contents onto the floor. “Fuck! That tasted like shit.”
“Sorry about that Mike,” Tom said. “I just kind of panicked when I saw that thing.”
“It’s ok.”
CRASH! The five turned as one towards the rear of the store. Jen screamed at the sight of the two ghouls coming out of the back of the store. One had apparently been a rather fat man in life. He was dressed in only a pair of bloody boxer shorts. He moaned loudly as he rounded one of the aisles.
The second ghoul is why Jen screamed. It was a little brown haired girl. She was maybe 10 years old. Her skin was pale and grey. Her khaki skirt and light blue shirt were streaked in blood. She was missing her left arm. Her left eye had been eaten from her head. Her lips were mostly gone, causing her to look like she had a permanent snarl on her face. She didn’t moan. Her eyes seemed to focus on Jen, to drill into her. Her pace picked up, her lone arm reaching for Jen. Her teeth seamed to bare just a bit more as she approached the group.
Mike took aim at the fat ghoul with this pistol. BANG! The bullet struck the monster in the neck. Its head snapped back. Blood few from the monster’s mouth. Mike was sure he’d killed the thing. He shifted his aim to the child-monster. He paused. “Jesus,” he thought. That looks like his niece.
It kept coming. He couldn’t shoot. He backed away. They all did, all except for Larry. He shoved the Mini-14 in the girls face and fired. Her head exploded, sending her brains and blood splattering the aisle of cleaning and picnic supplies. Her tiny body fell to the ground, a pool of blood growing out around her.
The fat one grabbed the end of the rifle, pulling Larry to the ground. Mike tried to aim at the zombie again. Larry and the monster were grappling with each other on the ground. Larry had his right hand shoved under the monster’s chin. He had a foot on the monster’s chest pushing with all his strength to keep the monster from pinning him to the ground. The monster’s mouth continued to snap at the boy, even as he pushed it away.
Tom charged past Mike and Jen. He grabbed the fat naked ghoul by the hair, pulling it off balance, and off of his son. He shoved the barrel of the shotgun against the head of the zombie and fired in one smooth motion; ending its assault.
He helped his son up. “You ok boy?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied. His hands were shaking. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. He turned from the group and walked to the aisle with the candy bars. Theresa followed, placing her arm around his shoulder. He picked out a pair of bars, handing one to her.
“We need to clear this place,” Mike announced. “Jen start gathering things for the Tahoe. Tom, follow me.” He walked into the back of the store, pistol held in front of him. The store room and cooler were vacant.
Tom found the switch for the gas pumps. Mike began fueling the SUV. He could see several zombies shambling in their general direction. Shit! Tom came out of the store with three cases of water. He dumped them into the back of the Tahoe.
“Hey Tom, you wanna throw some gas in that Charger? We can carry more stuff if we have another trunk.”
“Good idea. I’ll see if the keys are in there somewhere.” He trotted back inside. A few minutes later, he came out with another load of water. This time he went to the Japanese car, opening the trunk. He deposited the water in the hatchback, and walked back towards the building.