Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End (39 page)

11

The Rubies have encountered a shockingly tricky batch of New Breed. Not only has Rough Rider’s team fallen into a trap, Soul Train’s has as well. With the militia distracted, more of the evolved zombies arose from hiding, finding their way over the fresh barriers. They shoved dumpsters and any other thing they could against the chain link fencing and climbed into human territory. The ‘safe zone’ lost its name quickly as they flooded in and spread out toward sources of food.

Some rushed the Ruby’s even as the machine guns erupted on the Gunship, many took off in the other direction toward the theme park. The enlisted soldiers and New Castle volunteers that had been tasked with maintaining a living presence in the already reclaimed sections of the corridor were caught by surprise. Some are seeing action for the first time as they push back and try to hold the line against hundreds of the fearsome dead they had only heard about, the newer, faster dead.

It isn’t enough, they have already called base for more men, more guns and bullets, but there was no response.

####

Vida finds herself in an agonizing dilemma, she needs to get to Carla, but she can’t leave the gate open like this, she can’t close it either since the men out there may need to re-enter in a hurry. She enters the gift shop, the Army’s makeshift armory, M-16s are made ready along the long window where happy folks once lined up to buy tickets for the rides and games. This is where she’ll make her stand, and just hope someone comes that can be sent to the beach.

Her eyes are on the opening in the wall that has held back the dead since the onset, the breach in security. She listens to the zombies howl and the guns firing. She grabs the handset of a radio and reaches out to her people. “Lady Luck? Come in, Lady Luck?”

Before her call is answered, soldiers scramble in firing. The men are breathless as they find cover, places to shoot from that may serve as protection from what follows them into the park. The New Breed race in. Vida joins the fight to the their relief as they run out of ammunition. The dead require more shots to the head to be put down but she manages to kill quite a few. A trio of the invading corpses see a losing battle and dash off into the park before they can be stopped.

12

“What did they say?” Heather asks her husband if he caught any of what Kelly Peel and her friend had shouted to them as they rolled past.

“There’s something up at the beach,” he answers. “Carla needs guns, and everyone needs to get to safety.”

Dan and the Williamson clan had been enjoying their day at the very well stocked petting zoo. Vincent and Jack are staring wide eyed at the large cows, laughing to one another at how the animals chew.

“I’m gonna have to…” he begins.

“I know,” she says with a nod, already worried about him.

“I want you and the boys to hide in the barn,” he guides them to where he hopes they will be safe. “Lock the door.”

The smell in the barn isn’t pleasant, but that isn’t what keeps Heather from entering just yet. She stands within the doorway looking at her husband, she’s concerned but confident that he’ll be all right. The jade eyes she gazes at him with go wide as three grotesque figures appear behind him, sprinting to get their gnarled hands on him.

Dan is pulled backwards into their clutches, the grinning faces of the corpses strike greedily like vipers. They bite deeply into the man’s shoulder and neck. His wife’s face is speckled with his arterial blood as the ghouls hungrily devour his flesh, snarling like dogs. With his last bit of strength Dan kicks the door shut, hiding Heather’s shocked face.

The last thing she saw of the man she married was the dead taking him to the ground. She has to listen now as they eat him away, like dogs tearing apart a steak. Her husband was never one to complain, or let her know when he was in pain, to hear him bellow in agony is unbearable. Her hand trembles as it holds the door closed by its handle while her other shaky hand slides a lock into place. She can’t believe what has just happened.

Her world is shattered once Dan’s screaming ceases. She falls to the dirt floor of the barn and cradles her boys, thankful they are too young to fully understand what has just transpired. Heather has just lost her husband, and now she fears the flimsy lock will not be enough to keep the bloodthirsty ghouls out. Tears begins to fall, the dead outside have gone silent except for their moans.

The boys may be too young to fully comprehend that zombies have just robbed them of their dad, they begin to cry because their mother is. Even the one that grows inside her moves in response to the tragedy. The secret he had kept from her was put behind them, they decided to take the boys to the farm as a fresh start, all their cards on the table, now they’ll never see him again.

A slap against the wood startles her, she pulls the boys closer to her and holds them as tight as she can. More slaps follow, each making her breath catch in her throat.

“Honey,” she hears from the other side. “Remember that thing about my foot?”

“What?” she asks the man she had been mourning a second ago, had heard die. She opens the door.

Standing before her is Dan, the three super zombies are on the ground as still as stones. Blood soaks the remains of his ravaged shirt, drying in the sun. The areas of skin that should be eaten away, areas she saw the dead bite into, are intact. A closer look reveals fresh scar tissue as she rushes in to hug him.

“How did you kill them?” she asks ignoring the miraculous recovery, he had no weapons on him.

“Yeah, that,” he says, unsure himself what happened to them. “That’s actually a new development that we can explore later. I still need to get to the beach. I want you guys to stay in there, and lock it.”

She doesn’t care how, she’s just happy to have him back. They tell each other ‘I love you’ and she watches him dash off.

On his way to the beach he comes upon Killian who still carries his M-16. “Mind If I get that back?” Dan asks as he reclaims his weapon.

“I got some people to the hotel,” the boy says. “I want to help Carla.”

“She’d want you to be safe,” Dan explains, pointing toward the way the boy had come. “Get back to the hotel. Keep everyone calm.”

####

The ship has halted its journey over land, its weight carried it into the stone wall that crumbled under its keel. The blue vessel now rests, buried halfway across the board walk.
It could have been much worse
, Carla realizes, but it isn’t the ship that concerns her, it’s the passengers.

The dead pour over the side making her wonder just how many souls could possibly be one of these things, vacationers and crew plummet to the beach and boardwalk forming a pile that rises. The first to respond to the unlikely emergency, Carla and Gar open fire with the hope more guns will join them soon.

Like cereal falling from a bottomless box the zombies continue to rain down, the pile spreads despite the efforts of the two shooters. “Gar, we have to fall back!” Carla calls out.

Accustomed to his pellet gun and its lack of kick-back, the Ak-47 is too much for Gar even in semi-automatic. He has to use the wall’s edge for stability. He hears the order to give the dead more room and sees Carla head out of the stairway they have been using as a castle turret, he’s just too slow to comply.

Before Carla can set up their next line of defense, she hears a scream behind her. Gar has stumbled while leaving the stair well. She watches as hands grab him greedily and pull him to the beach below. She’s all alone now against the dead.

The SAW cuts through them, her goal is to bring them down and hold them back like wiping away a spill as it spreads across a countertop. The method isn’t as surgical as she’d like but it will stem the flow until help can arrive, there’s just too many of them.

Another gun fires into the mass, and then more. Standing at her side is Dan. She is too busy to notice his tattered, bloodstained clothes, or to quip as they typically would. Watching the lovable stoner being pulled to his doom has left her in a non-joking mood.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dan says between shots. “I had to get Heather and the boys to safety.”

Volunteers line the boardwalk where Carla tells them to go as the dead continue to topple down. Corpses strike the sand and the shallow water, recovering quickly, starved having not eaten in a long time. Zombies storm the beach that Carla once frolicked on with Oz and the kids, the beach where he’s buried.

“You, and you,” Carla addresses two people. “Head down the board walk and block the next few sets of stairs. She finds another person and points past the ship’s bow. “Head around. I want to be sure that other stairway is covered in case their falling from that side.”

An ear-piercing creak gets everyone’s attention, the wall isn’t enough to hold the top heavy vessel. Stones are crumbling from all the activity above unbalancing the load.

“Fall back!” Carla commands her men foreseeing the out of place structure listing toward them. They are far enough from it that being crushed isn’t a danger, it’s the fact that the dead will be coming down even faster that worries her.

13

“Abby,” Lady Luck says, her voice unusually tender. “I just got word from SBL. It’s Vida.”

The Rubies were able to fall back to their Grave Robbers, having to let the New Breed take the buildings. The machine guns of the Gunship roar as more of the vicious dead come at them in droves.

Abby is filled in on what’s happening back at home base, he seems conflicted. Pulling out means losing their foothold, if the gates of Story Book Land have been sealed they should be able to handle things while he holds his position. But, he still worries about Vida.

“Get out of here, Abby,” Lady Luck tells him.

“What?” he has to ask.

“You’re no good to us here if your head is with Vida. We can hold the line,” she says unwavering, this isn’t an option. “I’ll take the lead, you go save our girl.”

From the top deck of the Gunship Abby leaps to one of the Grave Robbers to get closer to their flatbed of fence supplies. All guns refocus their fire to cover him as he drops down to the street to slide behind the wheel.

Abby backs the truck into the thick mob of bodies. He makes a wide arch to turn around as they try to surround him. The berserkers batter and pound against his windows, they attempt to hang onto it as it speeds off down the corridor. The truck swerves to shake them loose as it gains speed.

The leader is horrified to see the stretch of safe streets they have claimed has been infiltrated by the dead. The volunteers that had been maintaining a human presence lay dead, some devoured to the bone, others are still being eaten. They did not go quietly without a fight, just as many putrid bodies are strewn as well. The dead had more numbers, and the element of surprise, they drove the living back into their home where they have sealed the gate.

Abby circles the parking lot, he has no way in. Behind him a swarm of dead builds, chasing him around the lot. There’s no one watching from the wall to open the gate for him, not that they should. He realizes he’ll need to find another way in.

The flatbed detours from its orbit, the New Breed follow a split-second behind after the leaders of the pack suddenly have to adjust their direction. The surprise change causes a few to lose their balance and get overrun by the others, Abby knows looking in his rearview that this is not a victory or an advantage since they will just rejoin the race.

He accelerates, putting more distance between himself and the riled up horde, aimed toward the coast and areas they have yet to take back. The flatbed slides to a halt along the perimeter they’ve set up around the lot. He uses the truck to gain altitude and vault over the barrier. He knows he is about to enter uncharted territory on foot, territory that still belongs to the dead. As easy as it is for him to get over the wall so will it be for those on his heels. He just has to stay ahead of them and find a way back, in the very least he will temporarily eliminate the mob that pursues him as a threat to his people.

The unfamiliar streets are thankfully vacant, with only those he hears hopping the barrier behind him, he may be able to concoct a plan. If he can find a place to double back he may be able to get back to the wall with enough of a lead on the dead that someone inside can risk opening the gate for him.

Before the plague, this side of town wasn’t exactly the nicest, the Story Book franchise was able to get the land cheap. It never brought in the tourism dollars they were hoping for, visitors opted to go to the nicer parts of the city. Many of the businesses have bars on their windows, it just looks dirty, a sharp contrast to the theme park not far away.

The dead that follow the man are splitting up, dividing to cover the adjacent streets. They’ve seen this ploy and have learned from it, they leave Abby nowhere to go but further into No Man’s Land. He can only hope to stay ahead of them, find a place to hide so they will pass him by.

Abby skirts around a corner, knowing they probably saw where he went. He tries doors, losing the precious lead he has on the dead. Place after place is locked. He hears the New Breed screech behind him as if telling each other what he is doing. He’s almost to the next corner and out of doors as the ravenous zombies draw closer. He can hear the rapid plod of their feet, almost as fast as his heart pounds in his chest. He’s about to dash to the other side of the street though trying for the next block will surely give up his location to the other group coming his way. He stops, spotting a staircase along the building that plunges below the street. A small sign that seems as if it’s meant to be missed reads: the Dive Bar.

He slips into the dark hole in the ground, his last chance to find a safe place. If he can’t gain entry he knows he’s done for, the dead will be rounding the corners any second and he’ll be left with nowhere to go. He’s breathing hard inside his armor, steaming in his own body heat. His boots squish with sweat as he hops down the concrete slab stairs.

The door was locked at one point but has been jimmied open, someone got in after the plague. He wonders if they’re still around as he opens it wide. The door swings toward him freely, whoever got in wasn’t concerned about security. Once inside he can’t close the door yet, needing a bit of light to check the gloomy basement bar for danger.

He only has a second to scan the shadows for movement, the New Breed are above already closing in on his location. He pulls the door closed and holds it as he listens to their bellowing on the street above him. If there are any zombies in this dank dark place, he’s fairly confident that they will be the old style. He can trust his armor to protect him from the slower dumber variety, his guns are kept stowed in favor for something that won’t attract unwanted attention, his knife. He keeps the blade between himself and the shadows as he crouches in the dark.

The rest Abby is able to get is uneasy and tense, he listens to the flood of quick zombies above him that howl in frustration that he got away. His eyes are on the gloom, adjusting to what little light the few short windows along the top of the wall lets in, most of the daylight is being blocked by the feet of the dead above. As the New Breed give up on searching this block and move onward to the next the dank barroom is illuminated a bit more. He can see shapes in the dark now, make out chairs, tables and the bar itself. As the noise from the street fades with distance he hears something down here with him, a moan in the dark.

He waits, hoping to catch sight of whatever has made the miserable sound before it spots him. Abby waits for another sound to help him pinpoint where it is among the shadows. A gray lump rolls off the bar landing on the space behind with a thud and clatter of bottles. Another moan rises up in the dark, more of a groan, more human than zombie.

“Hello?” he whispers into the unknown.

“S’up?” a female voice responds, hoarse and tired.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Who the fuck are you?” she asks right back. The voice is given shape as its owner rises uneasily into the shafts of light.

Abby slowly comes closer to her, he’s inspects her face in the low light positive that he’s seen her before. “Your name’s Rocky, right?”

The woman groggily rubs her eyes, she gives his question a short laugh before asking, “You a fan?”

“We’ve met before,” he tells her as he approaches the bar. “At the, uh, pudding house?” he makes it a question not knowing how else to explain the place and situation he knows her from.

“Brass?” she asks, leaning over the bar to take him in.

“No, Brass is gone, actually.” He strips away the layers of duct tape around his neck so he can remove his helmet and speak to the woman face-to-face. “My name is Abby. I need to get to Story Book Land.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she laughs, stumbling in search of something, her feet wading through strewn empty bottles. “The zombies down here in the south are fucking insane.”

“So I’ve noticed. Any chance you can help me get over the wall?”

“Not much of one. A snowball’s chance, maybe,” she says before taking a long sip off of what she was searching for. “I kinda made a mess of my one reason for living. So, I’m here for a different reason, one reason only… Do you know how hard it is for an alcoholic to drink herself to death?”

Her plan explains some of what Abby detected when he entered; vomit, urine, and other organic smells. He desperately needs to get moving but knows he’ll have a better chance with some help, even hers.

“Where are my manners?” she slurs after another couple of swigs. “Can I offer you a Gin and Tonic? Actually, I’m outta tonic water and lime so I’ve been mixing the Gin with 7-Up. I call it a Given-Up. Don’t have much else, been living off of booze and a big barrel of peanuts. It’s fine if you don’t mind shitting gravel four times a day.”

Another piece to the aroma collage he’s walked into is revealed. Abby can still hear the New Breed wailing just down the street, he’s at a loss as to not only how to get back to SBL, but also how he’ll get over the wall. He has an idea. “The zombies have made it into the park,” he says hoping to appeal to her sympathy.

The woman is silent except for her labored breathing, it sounds as if she’s fallen back to sleep. Abby is about to say something when her raspy voice inquires, “Did KB make it?”

“Kaitlyn?” Abby clarifies. “Yeah, she’s there.” He’s hopeful this will get her to help him. “She’s seems very happy. Making friends, skating around…”

“She’s skating?” Rocky asks dreamily, even in the dark Abby can tell from her voice that she is smiling. “Damn I miss watching her skate, it’s like poetry.”

Abby uses this to his advantage. “Yeah, she’s probably not getting much skating in today, what with the zombies running around inside…” he lets that thought sink into the woman’s head.

Drunk and getting drunker, the woman drains the bottle. Her voice is low and sad, “I scoped the place out after I got away from those crazy things. I let the heat die down a little, a few days, then I went to the roof of this place to see if I could get there. I had a plan all worked out, if not for…”

“What’s your plan?” Abby interrupts sounding hopeful.

“It’s no use,” she says defeated. “The Tanners own that territory.”

“Who are the Tanners?”

“Some of the dead took a shine to a building that was on fire, they were scared at first, but then they just lined up one day and filed in,” Rocky says. “They came out the other side, their skin seared and their clothes melted to their bodies. Fuck knows why.”

“To seal in the juices,” Abby explains. “They’re trying to preserve themselves any way they can. These dead were normal once, as normal as walking corpses can be, anyway. They were attracted to radiation leaking from a nuke plant up north since radiation slows decomposition. It changed them, made them smarter, able to learn.”

Rocky makes her labored breathing noise again, this time she actually has fallen asleep with her head on the bar cradled in her arms.

“Hey!” Abby says as loud as he dares to wake her. “We need to get over that wall! There are people in there that need us. Killer B needs you!”

As if it has just dawned on her that her KB is in danger, Rocky stands up so fast her heads swoons and her stomach lurches. “I’ll get you there if you promise to protect KB,” she offers.

“I promise,” he agrees eagerly. The woman is searching for things behind the bar; a fresh bottle of whisky and several hard candies.

“Leave the bottle,” Abby says. “Any more and you won’t be able to function.”

She laughs at that. “That’s right, you’ve never met me. Booze is the only thing that makes me function. I just need to take my medicine first to straighten up a bit. Find more of these,” she tells him as she unwraps a few hard candies and shoves them into her mouth. The old sucking candies have been around for a while, the outer surfaces are gooey but they should still work their magic.

After letting the sugar enter her system to give her brain a much needed, and long overdue, breath of air, she leads Abby to the roof through a back section. They climb more stairs than either can count, too worried about their respective loved ones in peril to mind the workout. On the roof and out of the dark, depressing hole Rocky had planned on dying in, the light of day invigorates them, offers them hope.

Rocky drops her bag of supplies, carefully to be mindful of the bottle of whisky. They walk to the edge so she can tell the man her plan.

“Not much to it really,” she says. She points to a truck once used by the local utility company to repair power lines. “I was going to grab that cherry picker and just bring it to the wall. Ta-done!”

Abby considers the truck, its boom is curled up along the bed like a scorpion’s tail but he thinks it should be able to reach the top of the wall, if he can start it.

“Then, I saw them,” Rocky presents another obstacle that would have to be overcome, the dead she refers to as ‘Tanners’.

Their skin, where synthetic fibers that was once their clothing is not melted into their flesh, is lightly charred, deep brown with patches of black. The zombies had let the flames get just close enough to kiss them from head to toe and only long enough to cook their outer layers of skin. The result is before him, they are blistered and peeling, hairless, wandering about their domain with unblinking eyes. The dead typically do not blink, but this tribe is different, their eyes seem to be open wider due to their eyelids being singed off. All their facial features are more pronouncedly withdrawn than that of the other New Breed, dried and shriveled.