DEAD RAIN: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse (7 page)

17

Kerri yelped in alarm as Deputy Jurgensen grabbed her throat with both hands, choking off her cry. She saw the empty blackness in his eyes and threw her forearms up, breaking his grip, then shoved him hard in the chest. His good leg buckled and he fell to the ambulance floor.

“Kerri! Are you alright?” Hector glanced back to check on the commotion, then quickly looked back through the windshield—and jerked the wheel sharply to avoid hitting a man who had suddenly dashed into the stre
et. The ambulance jumped a curb and bounced wildly as one set of wheels dipped across the entry ramp of a drive-thru, moving too fast.

“Hang on!” Hector yelled. He wrestled with the steering wheel, over-correcting in his panic. The boxy vehicle swung back into the street—and hit a plodding cadaver, splattering the windshield with blood. A moment later it wa
s broadsided by a speeding car.

Knocked onto its side it slid across the street into a utility pole, which toppled like a tree in a lumber camp. High voltage wires hit the ground, showering the dew-drenche
d tarmac with deadly fireworks.

Kerri
tumbled through the back of the ambulance like a ragdoll, shrieking in terror as she bounced off metal utility racks and the lifeless body of Jurgensen’s attacker.

The back doors flew open and the deputy’s flailing body flew out. Kerri slid after him but grabbed a stainless steel post and held on.

Finally the ambulance settled, lying on its side. Steam hissed from its radiator. Its engine coughed and died and its wheels stopped spinning. Blood covered the inside and the outside of the windshield, which was cracked where Hector’s head made impact during the crash.

Kerri raised her head and looked around. She was covered in aching bruises, but miraculously no bones were broken. Looking out the back door she saw Deputy Jurgensen rise up slowly in the mist a
nd stumble away into the night.

Clawing her way across the jumbled mess in the back of the overturned vehicle s
he pulled herself into the cab.

Hector dangled awkwardly in his seatbelt, his body nearly upside down. His legs were trapped between the seat and the dislodged steering column. He was semi-conscious, his head bleeding from a nasty gash on his temple.

Kerri shook him gently, but there was no response. “Hector? Hey! Poppy, wake up!” She checked his vitals. His pulse was weak and uneven. She started checking him for broken bones and realized his legs were pinned under the twisted steering column. She made an attempt to free him but he reacted, waking and crying out in pain.

“Ow! Don’t! Stop, Kerri, stop,” he pleaded. “You can’t. I’m stuck. Get help. Please, just get help.”

Kerri tried the radio. It was dead. Muttering a frustrated curse she looked back through the open door at the rear of the vehicle and saw a chaotic spectacle unfolding outside. A fountain of sparks from the power line lit up the fog. Cars crashed to a stop in a daisy chain or veered past on screeching tires, only to crash further on. Desperate screaming voices pierced the night.

“Hector, listen to me. I’m going to have to leave you alone for a bit. I need to go for help. The radio isn’t working.”

“Pain.” Hector’s voice was a trembling whisper. “Please… Kerri…”

Kerri reached into the back compartment and grabbed her medical supply bag, but froze with the bag in hand as the zombified deputy stepped back into view outside the back door. As he turned in her direction she hunkered low, shutting her eyes, keeping stil
l, saying a prayer in her head.

Finally she dared to steal a peek. Thankfully, Jurgensen was gone.

Breathing a sigh of relief she dragged the first aid kit back to the cab and dug out a vial of liquid painkiller. It wasn’t normal policy to administer such medication on the road but she wasn’t about to let her friend suffer, especially under the circumstances. She wasn’t keen on his chances of surviving the insane violence of the night, trapped and helpless as he was, and she saw no point in him dying in pain.

“Hector. Open up. Keep your head up. That’s it.” Fighting back tears she gave him several drops of the powerful drug. “You should be okay in here. No one will bother you,” she lied
, fighting hard to contain her emotions. “Just relax and don’t move. I’ll be back as fast as I can with help and we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Slipping into the rear compartment she found her backpack and loaded it with first aid supplies, which would no doubt come in handy
on this hellacious night. Then she made her way through the mess of dislodged equipment, gingerly crawling past the overturned body of the twice-dead zombie, still strapped to its gurney, until she reached the open door.

Peeking out cautiously
she surveyed the scene outside. It was difficult to see through the fog and the smoke from burning vehicles, but madness and mayhem clearly ruled. Headlights kamikazeed through the haze. Tires squealed. Metal crashed. Glass exploded. Cadaverous people staggered about, grappling with passersby. Crash victims limped among them, hard to distinguish in the fog. A hysterical man ran past, screaming in a rippling falsetto. A woman ran the other way and was fried by the high voltage current when she stepped into a puddle.

Kerri paused for a moment, watching as a hollow-eyed man latched onto a shrieking victim, then she crawled back th
rough the ambulance to the cab. She found Hector out cold, blissfully sedated. Reaching over his body she fumbled around until she found Deputy Jurgensen’s Glock.

She
ejected the magazine from the pistol and checked that it was full. Then she slammed it back into the gun and racked the slide, chambering the first round.

Thank God for action movies,
she thought. Then she slipped out into the fog.

18

Ryan reached the hospital to find it in a state that could best be de
scribed as hellish. An ambulance stood vacant with its doors hanging open. A gurney lay on its side nearby. Wide-eyed people ran from the building in mindless panic, screaming and crying. Many had bleeding wounds.

A nurse tripped and fell and before she could get up, a man with a ravaged face pounced onto her back. A
sheriff’s deputy ran past her, not stopping to intervene as the man sunk his teeth into her neck. Ryan dashed after him to ask him for help, but as if he had fear blinders on the lawman leaped into his cruiser and sped away. As his car shot out onto the street it was broadsided by a speeding SUV, killing both drivers instantly.

Ryan
turned back to the emergency entrance and gazed through the sliding glass doors. Nurses and doctors and patients and visitors were fighting for their lives, wrestling with hungry dead people trying to bite them. The zombies were slow and clumsy but had the advantage of surprise—nobody knew their true nature unless they’d survived an attack.

Ryan turned and ran for the mini-mart up the street.
I hope Tim’s there to let me in. It’s a good place to hole up ‘til we’re  rescued. Plenty of food and water.
But even as the hopeful thoughts passed through his head, he started worrying about the store’s glass walls.

We can defend it,
he reassured himself.
Besides, what other option do I have?

He stopped at the edge of the mini-mart’s parking lot. The place was already under siege. A handful of zombies were pressed against the windows and doors, listlessly pounding on the glass. The people inside were frantically piling boxes and display cases against the doors, barricading themselves in.

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan whispered hopelessly.
I’ll never get in there now.

He considered trying to slip behind the building to pound on the store’s back door. But he knew his odds of being admitted were even less than the odds of him actually making it that far. Someone would have to be in the back room to hear him, and they were obviously all busy barricading the front of the store. The racket he’d make banging on the metal security door would attract the hungry ghouls long before it caught the attention of anyone in the building. And even if they did hear it, they’d probably just think it wa
s more ghouls trying to break in.

He scanned the parking lot. A dozen or so zombies were feasting on unlucky people they’d taken by surprise. Drivers who’d gotten out of their cars to pay for gas, blissfully unaware that they were stepping into hell on earth, obscured by the lingering fog. Folks who ran out for a quick pack of smokes, and go
t death served up cold instead.

He turned his attention to the cars parked in front of the store. They were too damned close to the hungry dead assailing the storefront and even if he found one that was unlocked it would no doubt be missing its keys.

He turned to the cars at the brightly lit gas pumps. A compact Chevy stood abandoned at the nearest pump, its driver’s door hanging open. He could see and the pump hose nozzle still stuck in its fill hole and the driver’s legs on the ground behind the car, twitching as a zombie apparently feasted.

Ryan considered his chances.
I can make it, I’m sure.
But what if the driver took the keys?

He looked around for a better option. The hospital was overwhelmed. He had to assume the local supermarkets were death traps as well.
The streets were a death zone, and growing more deadly by the minute. Zombies were everywhere.
With just a few bullets left in the revolver, he wouldn’t get far if he tried to make a run for it. And it was only a matter of seconds before the dead saw him standing there. He’d be dead already if it hadn’t been for the fog.

He looked at the little Chevy again, and was thankful that he’d signed up for drivers ed classes just a few weeks before.
I’ll have to risk it. It’s the only way I’ll ever make it out of here… alive.

Ducking low he snuck as nimbly as he could to the gas pumps and hid behind th
em. He stole a peek between the pumps into the Chevy’s open door. Through the drifting fog he caught sight of the keys in the ignition.

He squeezed between the pumps and crept to the pump nozzle stuck in the Chevy’s fill cap. Quietly he extracted it, aware of the zombie feeding on the hapless driver just a few
yards away. But as he lifted the heavy nozzle out it slipped from his sweaty fingers and bumped the spring-loaded filler hatch, causing it to snap shut.

A huge cadaver stepped around the pump and stood facing him. Its eyes were so cold and dead that for a moment Ryan just stood there staring, wonderin
g if it could actually see him.

The monstrous corpse took a step forward, hungrily raising its arms.

Ryan squeezed the grip and the pump spurted gasoline. He doused the zombie liberally, soaking its head, its open eyes and mouth—but it wasn’t phased, not even delayed for a moment. Throwing the heavy metal nozzle at its face, Ryan jumped into the car and slammed the door.

As he started the engine the burly cadaver banged its fists on the window.

Ryan floored it. The little Chevy screeched across the parking lot. Moving way too fast it hit the exit ramp. He cut the wheel hard without slowing down. The car careened wildly, sliding across the dewy street on two squealing tires.

Ryan released the gas
pedal and stomped the brake. The Chevy bounced to a stop just inches from a parked car, on the wrong side of the road.

Bright headlights blinded him. An air horn blasted an urgent warning. A monstrous semi was barreling right at him.

Ryan punched the gas and jerked the wheel to the right. He shot back into the proper lane just in time. The tractor-trailer rumbled past in the lane he’d just vacated, shaking the tiny Chevy with its airstream.

Hitting the brakes he sat trembling for a moment. Taking a deep breath he checked to make sure the doors were locked, then he turned up the heater and rubbed his shirtsleeve across the windshield, trying to clear the steamy condensation obscuring his view.

Finally feeling settled enough to drive, he proceeded slowly down the streets. He passed through the next intersection and saw tiny red taillights ahead.
Thank God I’m not alone.
He sped forward, hoping to make contact with another human being, but suddenly the vehicle in front of him screeched to a halt. Ryan hit his brakes, stopping a few car lengths behind it.

Headlights appeared beyond the stoppe
d car, flying recklessly toward them, swerving from lane to lane. The approaching vehicle zoomed into a patch of streetlight and in a fleeting glimpse Ryan recognized the tubular tank of a fuel truck.

“Oh Jesus!” he gasped. Frantically shifting into reverse he sped backwards—and crashed into a car on the road behind him.

The truck collided with the car in front of him. A monstrous fireball engulfed the road.

A large piece of metal bounced across the Chevy’s hood and spider-cracked the windshield
. Burning debris landed nearby. Flaming gasoline spread from the accident in all directions. A parked car exploded, adding to the firestorm.

F
laming gas streamed towards the Chevy, moving fast.

Ryan looked back. The car
behind him sat blocking his escape. Leaping from the Chevy he waved his arm frantically, signaling the driver to back away. “Go!” he screamed frantically. “Move it! Hurry up! Go! Go!”

The panic-stricken driver just sat there, para
lyzed with fear and indecision.

Ryan pulled the Colt from his belt an
d aimed it at their windshield.

The car screamed backwards, weaving
down the street like a drunken eel.

Ryan jumped back into the Ch
evy just as the fire reached its front bumper. Throwing it into reverse he floored the gas pedal, swerving wildly back to the nearest intersection. He paused there, unsure of his next move. Zombies lumbered towards him from all sides.

“God help me please!” Cutting the wheel hard he shifted into drive and zoomed away down the cross street, headed towards the coast.

The Parkway’s my best bet. Got to get to the Parkway.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying
to calm his racing pulse.

The Parkway will take me as far as I need to go… as far as I need to find safety.