Pandora 2: Death is not an Option (18 page)

The other man yelled down to them, “Climb over. We’ll keep you covered.”

Just then, they heard the sound of a voice yelling from down the road they had just come from. Steve climbed to the roof of an SUV that had smashed into the trailer and peered down the road. He could see a figure limping. He had just turned onto the road leading to the turnpike. Looking closer, Steve could see that it was Josh. He was hobbling down the road, dragging one leg behind him. Waving his arms wildly, Josh was yelling ahead of him.

“Hey, guys,” Steve exclaimed. “It’s Josh. He made it.”

“Is Karen with him too?” asked Ana.

“I don’t see her,” said Steve quizzically. “Maybe she—holy shit!”

All of a sudden around the same corner from which Josh had just emerged, a large crowd of zombies came staggering after him. It had started with just the group in front of the deli, but it had picked up more and more undead along the way. The droning noise they were making was absolutely unnerving. Steve waved his arms and yelled to Josh, “Over here! We’re over here.”

Josh was hobbling along at his top speed. He was huffing and puffing as he pumped his arms and dragged his leg. The pain from his now dark-purple ankle was beyond comprehension. The all-encompassing throbbing was so strong that he was using it as his marching tempo. His whole world now was just to keep moving forward. He could see the group down the road at the entranceway. A grim smile formed on his lips.
You can do this
, he thought.
You know you can do this
. Josh was just one big ball of pain. His back and neck were stiffening up from his awkward, twisted gait. His smile was now a rictal grimace of anguish.

A zombie appeared from the same gate as the green-haltered zombie had. This one was a man. He had on a green polo shirt and white shorts—the same color outfit as she had. Apparently, the Bobsey Twins were husband and wife. He had a bite mark on his calf. Josh and the ghoul saw each other at the same time. The zombie snarled and hissed, and then he ran at Josh. Before he got near, a shot from the sniper on the overpass hit him in the back of the head and, knocking him off his feet, sent him skidding down the asphalt on his face.

“I won’t die. Nothing’s going to stop me. Nothing,” Josh said aloud through gnashing teeth.

Steve, meanwhile, had pulled himself up onto the moving van roof from the SUV. Reaching down, he grabbed Ana’s hand. She was already atop the SUV and, with a grunt, he was able to haul her up onto the roof. Max crawled onto the top of the SUV with Luke’s help. They weren’t worried about zombies as now two snipers on the overpass were downing any who came near. Steve grabbed ahold of Max and, with Ana pulling his shirt, was able to raise him up to the van’s roof. Next was Luke, and he went up easily. Steve then turned to Ana and Max.

“Both of you walk to the cabin and climb down. Go up to the highway. Luke and I will wait here and get Josh.”

The mass of undead behind the badly limping attorney was slowly gaining with each yard. Josh looked back and pointed the pistol behind him. He fired off a shot, hitting an undead security guard in the neck. Firing again, the hammer clicked on an empty chamber.
Then another and another. Josh dropped the gun on the street and focused on the moving van. Steve lowered himself to the top of the SUV, figuring that Josh couldn’t get up by himself. Luke took up Steve’s old position. The two snipers took out two of the closer zombies, but there were far too many of them to make any real difference. Soon they stopped firing completely.

Josh at last reached the crumpled SUV. The minute he touched it and stopped moving, all of the adrenaline-fueled strength left him. He sagged on the side of the vehicle.

“Josh,” Steve urged, “reach up.”

With sweat and tears streaming down his face, Josh reached up and grabbed Steve’s proffered hand. Just as Steve started to lift him up, the mass of zombies reached the struggling Josh. They grabbed at his legs, pulling and biting them. One took hold of his bad ankle and sunk his teeth into the swollen flesh. Josh gave out an agonized scream as the ghoul ripped off a bloated piece of calf muscle.

“Oh my God,” he screamed, “help me, help me!”

Steve was pulling with his two hands and all of his strength against the multitude of zombie hands pulling back. “I’m trying,” he grunted.

The tug-of-war went on. Other dead hands were reaching up and trying to grab Steve’s feet and ankles. Both men locked eyes. The agony in Josh’s face was unmistakable. Just then, there was another shot, and the top of Josh’s head came apart. His hand went limp, and the many undead hands pulled him from Steve’s sweaty grasp. Josh slid down and disappeared into the mass of snarling zombies. Steve looked down in disbelief and shouted, “Noooooo!”

“Steve,” called Luke from atop the van, “grab my hand. Hurry, before they get you too.”

Steve hesitated for a second, and then he turned, grasped Luke’s offered hand, and climbed onto the roof. Together they jumped down off the large van and ran up the ramp to the turnpike.

When they reached the top of the ramp where Ana and Max were, they saw the two snipers walking toward them. Both men were dressed very similarly. They each had on ball caps, sunglasses, khaki T-shirts, and desert-tan camo pants. They also had web-mesh harnesses in which they had inserted various ammo pouches, knives, canteens, and other supplies. Both men looked to be six feet tall and well built, and each sported a beard. Steve walked up to them.

“You just killed my friend,” he yelled. They looked at him blankly.

“He was dead already,” the slightly taller one said.

“He was just…” started Steve. He dropped his head and took a deep breath. “Yeah…” he said reluctantly, “I guess he was.”

“Sorry, man,” the shooter said. “I just put him out of his misery.”

Steve nodded, “Okay.”

Luke stepped forward and put out his hand. “Thanks a lot, guys. I’m Luke.” They shook hands.

“This here’s Steve,” he continued, pointing at his friend, “and this is Max, and that’s Ana.”

They shook hands all around.

The taller one said, smiling, “Hi. I’m Dill, and this is Rube.”

“Dill and Rube?” Ana said, smiling. “Really?”

Dill, still smiling, chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “really. Patrick Dillon and Danny Rubeck. Dill and Rube. Short and sweet.”

Ana grinned widely. “Well, okay.”

Max took a step forward, looking at the two men closely. “I take it that you are not just your everyday-type survivors.”

They looked at him.

“Special Forces?” asked Max.

“SEALs,” Rube said.

“Well, we were,” explained Dill. “We did a few tours with the teams. Then—”

“Yeah,” interrupted Rube, “then
you
took a bullet.” They both chuckled.

Dill continued, “So we decided it was enough. We left the teams and started working for Dark Delta Security. It’s a good gig. We were supposed to fly down to Antigua but ran into some trouble and missed our flight. And so…here we are.”

“Where are y’all from?” asked Rube.

“West Palm Beach,” replied Steve.

“Oh, that’s not good,” said Dill. “We saw that massive horde of zombies heading up that way from Fort Lauderdale about a month or two ago. Wasn’t pretty.”

“No,” replied Luke. “We barely made it out. There were ten of us when we started.”

“What are your plans?” Dill asked.

“I don’t really know,” admitted Steve. “Just get out of the big city. Away from population centers. Maybe head west.”

“Good idea,” said Rube. “We were gonna head on down Alligator Alley. Get out to the west coast of Florida where the population is smaller and hopefully the zombies are too.”

“Now that sounds like good thinking,” said Max.

“You’re welcome to join us,” invited Dill. “We move fast, so if you can keep up, you’re more than welcome to tag along.”

The four remaining members from West Palm looked at each other and either shrugged or nodded. “Sounds good,” said Steve with a grin. “We’re in.”

The six gathered themselves up and started walking south down the Florida Turnpike. Now they all had a definite goal.

After several hours and a few miles of deserted road, the sun was starting to sink into the western sky. Dill and Rube kept a brisk pace, just slightly slowing for the civilian group.

“There’s an industrial park off to the right,” said Dill as they walked. “We’ll spend the night there. Shouldn’t be any undead there.
Or if so, not many. In about a quarter of a mile, we’ll cut over and then hop the fence.”

Dill pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. “The zombies are scarce along this highway, but we’ve got a little group back there following us. Once we get to the park and they don’t see us, they’ll lose interest and leave. I don’t like drawing a crowd.”

Continuing down the road past all of the abandoned cars, they could see the sky starting to turn a beautiful pink and orange with long, purple clouds near the horizon.

Max turned to Steve as they were walking. “You know,” he said, “I think that we should look for a big shopping mall to hole up in.”

They all just looked at him.

“What?” he said. “It’s a good idea. I mean, all those stores? It would be perfect.”

“You don’t watch many horror movies, do you?” asked Steve in a deadpan voice.

“What do you mean?”

“
Dawn of the Dead
?” mentioned Luke.

“Dawn of what?” Max asked, totally puzzled.

Smiling, Luke put his hand up dismissively. “Never mind, you had to be there.”

Steve smiled.

“Whaaat?” Max mumbled as they walked.

After a few minutes had passed, Luke turned and, looking at Steve, said, “You know, just before the Internet went down, I read a list of celebrities that had caught the Pandora virus. It said that George Romero had it and was hospitalized.”

“No shit?” Steve said. “George Romero’s a zombie? Ha! How fucking ironic is that?”

“Yeah, right?” said Luke.

Both men chuckled humorously as they continued walking down the turnpike.

Tommy looked around. The bright setting sun was in his eyes, but he could see the five zombies standing in front of the 7-Eleven. “Too many,” he said to Manny and Sean. “There’s a crowd a block away too. If we start firing, we’ll just draw a larger crowd over here.”

“How about if one of us draws them away?” asked Sean. “As soon as they leave the area, the rest of us could break in and the other can just circle around and join us.”

“I’ll do it,” said Paul.

“Okay,” nodded Tommy. “We’ll circle around and come up behind the building. When you see us there, make some noise and keep drawing them away. Don’t let them see you, though. I don’t want them moaning and growling at you. It’ll just draw the others over, and that’ll screw things up.”

“Okay, Sarge,” said Paul. “I’m ready.”

Tommy, Sean, Manny, and Linda backed up and then went around the building. They crossed the street a half a block away, and then they came around and made their way to the back of the convenience store. Tommy looked from around a Dumpster and gave Paul the all-clear sign.

Paul tapped his rifle butt against the stucco of the building he was using to hide. Nothing happened. He tried again, a little louder this time. One of the zombies stirred, looked around, and then resumed staring off into space.

Shit
, Paul thought to himself.
It figures. I’d get the only five zombies in the world who are too deep in thought to pay attention
. Looking around, he spied an empty beer bottle on the curb. Slowly moving out to reach for it, he kept his eyes on the creatures across the street. He snagged it and then brought it back with him. Taking another glance at the five ghouls, Paul raised the bottle and then smashed it down on the sidewalk by his feet. Immediately, all five looked in his direction. Paul turned and ran along the building unseen. He then turned and ran along the back Dumpster area in the rear. He quickly hid behind an overfilled and stinking Dumpster there. He bent and found a whiskey bottle, which he picked up.

The five hungry zombies had crossed the street and were making their way along the sidewalk where Paul had waited before. He could hear their feet crunching through the broken glass. At last they appeared, shambling past the alley. When all five had passed, Paul stepped out and threw the bottle as far as he could down the side street. It sailed over their heads and crashed down on the sidewalk in front of a small pink ranch house several houses down. All five immediately picked up their pace and headed for the house.

Sayonara, assholes
, Paul thought. He then ran out and across the street to the 7-Eleven store. The rest of the group was already inside. As Paul joined them, Manny clapped him on the back and said, “Good work.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to break in. The door was already unlocked. Inside the store were three bodies. Two of them were teenagers, lying sprawled out near the entrance. Both were shot and still holding the cans and bags of chips and food they tried to take. The other was a middle-aged man who looked to be the owner or manager. He was lying on his back in a pool of blood. Four bullet holes were in him, and the gun lay at his side.