The Neuropathology Of Zombies (16 page)

CHAPTER 19

I was once again flying through the air above this vacation wasteland. The sun was beginning its dive to the west, and the sky was turning from deep blue to an orange gray. The rolling hills housing the caves looked enormous against the darkening sky. The chopper whirled around steeply and began to descend. A tall steel tower rose beneath us, the shiny metal reflected the sun, shimmering with an electric yellow light.

The helicopter touched down and the door flew open. The Governor and I stepped out on to the soft overgrown grass. The helicopter was in the air again, leaving the earth before my feet even left the landing skid.

A large Marine, concealed in full body armor, led us to a ladder at the base of the tower. We climbed up and stood on a platform about half way to the top of the structure. The Marine followed behind us and once on the platform, he reached down, pulling the retractable steps off the ground.

He chuckled, “They say the Driftwood can’t climb, but why take chances?”
He introduced himself and shouted up to the men at the top of the tower; they all waved down at us.
“Have you seen many of them?” I asked, scanning the landscape.
“No, not this far out. Maybe three or four. I think they’re mostly sticking to the town. We’ve collected a few survivors and sent them to the ship, but knock on wood, it’s been quiet out here,” he said, rapping his hand on his helmet.
“So, we need to take you to the caves? Should be a piece of cake. They’re only 5 miles from here, fifteen minutes, tops,” he said.
“How did they get past you and into town?” I asked, impressed with the fortified outpost.
“Not sure, we don’t have a direct visual on them, and we only have the main roads sealed. They could have gone over land, or used a secondary road.”
“Even though this is a small island, there are many passages between the port and the caves, too many in fact. That’s why the smugglers stay out here, it’s easy to slip in and out undetected,” explained the Governor.
I nodded and then looked at the Marine, “What is your plan for getting us there, we don’t have much time left.”
“There are six of us here at the tower. I’ll take one of my men, plus you and the Governor, in the Humvee. That leaves room for the injured man plus an escort, if they want to send one along. If the guy’s sick enough, we can lay him down in the back of the truck. That’s the plan,” he said. He smiled innocently, and shrugged. “There is no direct route from here, so we have to head south, towards the town, and then head back north, once we hit the outskirts. I don’t expect much in the way of trouble, your pilot did a fly over on his way here and reports that the streets are pretty empty; but we won’t take any risks, we’ll move fast, get in and get out.”
“Do they know we are coming?” the Governor asked.
“No, best to surprise them, I think.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
The Humvee’s engine started with a deafening roar, and we pulled out from under the tower with a jolt, bouncing all the way to the road. I grabbed ahold of the seat to keep from becoming airborne. We sped down the unpaved motorway kicking up a large cloud of dust behind us. The diesel beast shook as our speed increased.
“She’ll do eighty if you’re real nice to her, it’s like riding a horse, yeeee ha!” yelled the Marine who greeted us at the tower. He was seated on the passenger side, still completely sealed in body armor.
I leaned towards the middle of the backseat, trying to see out the front window. The outskirts of the town were directly in front of us, the buildings rose like a dark row of stones under the blinding rays of the sinking sun. As we got closer I could see that none of the buildings were more than four stories high. They were constructed out of light colored rock that looked like stucco.
The vehicle slowed as we approached the first row of buildings, our eyes sweeping the streets for Driftwood.
“If there are any in the area, they’ll know we’re here, nothing subtle about our ride,” yelled the driver. He was also decked out in body armor.
We slowed in front of a large cathedral before turning ninety degrees to the left, and heading back out of the town. The ancient building was guarded by an enormous cross carved out of stone, it looked like granite, that sat directly in front of the temple. Two thin bell towers stood on either side, their triangular summits forming peaks that pointed directly to God. Between the towers was a white-washed worship hall constructed from rock and sealed by a domed roof. Stained glass windows sparkled rainbow colored light onto the religious icons carved into the walls.
I turned in my seat and stuck my head out of the window as we drove past, I was transfixed by the architectural masterpiece.
“The Church of the Holy Mother. This building has been here since 1813. It replaced the original church that was destroyed by an earthquake the late 1600’s,” the Governor said, noticing my interest in the building.
“It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed.
Our speed picked up as we rounded the corner. The streets were empty of people. Piles of uncollected garbage lined the road, most of it strewn along the gutters and sidewalks, scattered by hungry animals scavenging for food. Long rows of shops stretched out to the horizon, their storefronts sealed by metal gates.
“I’ve seen a few Driftwood down the last couple of streets. Doesn’t look like much out this way,” yelled the Marine in the passenger seat.
“That’s because they’re all over at the hospital, or at the police station.” I laughed. “I think we’re the last meal in town.”
“Well, whatever is in this area knows about us now, let’s make this fast so we can get back through the town in one piece.” the driver yelled.
The urban sprawl faded behind us. I could sense the altitude increasing as we moved further away from town.
“We’re almost there, 5 minutes, you can see them, straight ahead,” the driver said.
I peered over the front seat, looking out of the window. The shadows of the mountains hung over us. Their dark presence was like a specter and I felt cold.
“Do you know where they’re hiding out? It seems like a lot of real estate out there!” I asked.
“Yeah, we know where they are. We’ll stop just short of their hideout and try to reach them by radio. I am sure they’ve seen us by now anyway,” the passenger stated.
We drove in silence for another minute of two before coming to a stop at the foot of the mountain range. Coming from Maine and growing up under the shadows of the Appalachian Trail, these were not mountains, they seemed more like big hills, but they loomed over us and felt intimidating.
The radio hissed and the passenger spoke, “Hello? Hello? United States Marine Corp, calling anyone in the caves, do you copy?” He waited a few seconds and then repeated his message. “Please answer, the Island is in a state of emergency, we need to establish communication with you, you are in danger!” he continued.
Still no response. He placed the hand piece of the radio back into its holder on the dashboard and frowned, “No luck. Let’s give them a minute.” We waited.
The Governor broke the silence, “Let me try and speak with them.” she said reaching for the radio.
“This is the Governor, gentlemen, can you please answer us. You are unsafe, the American’s are here to help us, we need to listen to them, I need you to listen to them,” she paused before continuing. “Son, if you can hear me, I beg of you to answer.” she spoke slowly and calmly.
Finally the radio buzzed with a man’s voice, partially obscured by static, “Ma’am, your son is at the airport. We are listening but have no plans to leave our camp. Speak your mind and then please, with all due respect, please leave.” His voice was strong, authoritative, but his respect for the governor was obvious.
“There is an illness spreading through the Island. If you come with us, we can keep you safe,” she said.
“You cannot keep us safe. We are keeping ourselves safe by staying away. Your government no longer exists,” he yelled.
I grabbed the radio from the governor, “Sir, this is Dr. Hawk, a man in your group is injured, he was attacked by the beasts in the town, he is gravely ill. At the very least you have to allow us to take him to the hospital!”
“Doctor, he will not leave the cave,” the voice shot back instantly.
“If he doesn’t, you will all catch this disease. As the Governor said, you’re not safe. You camp has been compromised!” I yelled.
There was silence. We waited as the sun slid towards the sea. I again called into the radio, “By now your man is covered in sweat, he is shaking, moaning. He is vomiting, and having seizures. Soon he will slip into a coma, and then you will all experience the same symptoms.”
There was no reply. I spoke again, “Let us take him to the hospital! One of you can come with us. Let us help you all, before it’s too late, before your entire camp becomes ill!”
The voice returned, “Come forward, down the road for one-half mile. We’ll meet you. Governor, is this your heart speaking?”
She grabbed the radio from my hand, “Yes, thank you. You are brave men and I wish you all luck. I assure you the Americans will help us, and soon we can go back to living our normal lives.”
We drove the one-half mile as instructed and waited. I looked at orange molten sky. I was getting nervous, the sun was about the touch the sea, we maybe had another half hour of light.
A dark SUV appeared from around the bend in the road ahead of us, armed men hung off the sides of the vehicle. The truck stopped just in front of our Humvee. The men leapt off and walked towards us, weapons drawn.
The Marine in the passenger seat opened the door. A voice called out, “Do not open the door, stay in the car, put your hands out the windows so we can see them!”
Before the voice finished, the bandits circled us. One of the men opened the Governor’s door, she stepped out. He escorted her to the front of the SUV, where she spoke to the group for over a minute. Then, the men opened all of our doors, and we stepped out onto the unpaved road.
The armed gang walked to the back of the SUV and lifted a man from the rear seat; his body was limp, and his color pale and dull. They walked gingerly in the direction of the Humvee. I led them to the rear of our vehicle and helped them lay the injured man down on the backseat.
“Which one of you is coming with us?” I asked.
“None of us. The Governor says we can trust you. You have to get him medical attention, as she says. There is nothing we can do for him here,” one of the men said, holding eye contact with me.
I thanked him and shook his hand.
He turned to me as he walked away, “Doctor, should we be worried that we have this illness?”
“No, I think you are ok. He isn’t contagious yet,” I said, not entirely lying.
We all piled back into the Humvee and the driver turned the vehicle around, pointing us back in the direction of town.
We sped down the unpaved road, racing to get through town before the sun set. The Governor and I were crammed into the tail compartment, contorted between piles of equipment. My head struck the downwards sloping roof with every bump in the road. I leaned over the backseat to check on our new passenger; he groaned, his hair was drenched with sweat. I reached up and pulled the seatbelt down, locking it in place over his torso, at the very least it would keep him from rolling onto the floor as we bounced towards town.

CHAPTER 20

We approached the outskirts of the city. The driver lifted his foot off the gas pedal, preparing for the right-hand turn at the cathedral. Suddenly, I was thrown against the side of the truck, and the vehicle came to a complete stop.

“What the fuck?” the driver exclaimed. “Where the fuck did they come from?”
I sat up and looked out of the front window. The street was full of Driftwood. They were spread out as far as I could see. They surrounded the Humvee and pulled at the doors, their decaying arms reaching in the open windows, grasping at our flesh.
“Gun it!” yelled the Marine in the passenger side seat. “Get the fuck out of here!”
The driver pounded his foot against the accelerator and we plowed through the crowd, squishing the putrid carcasses beneath our wheels. The driver struggled to maintain control as the Humvee rose over the piles of corpses. The vehicle tilted to the left, bringing the tires on the right side off the ground. We caught pavement, and unexpectedly gained traction. The truck spun to the left, and dropped with loud crash. My head struck the roof, everything turned dark and my ears filled with a deafening ringing sound. When my senses returned I could feel warm liquid running down my face. I lifted my hand to my head and felt a sticky gash. I looked at my fingers, they were covered in blood. I turned the governor, she was holding her side, her face grimacing.
The driver floored it and I was flung back against the rear door. All four wheels grabbed the asphalt and we banked hard to the left, I slammed into the side panel. I felt the truck begin to spin, we were moving too fast, and couldn’t make the corner ahead of us. The driver forced the steering wheel to the right, and the rear of the Humvee swung wildly, we were out of control. Before I could curl up into a protective ball, we struck something. My stomach tingled with the sudden loss of gravity as the vehicle left the ground. We landed on our left side and began rolling. The air filled with the screeching sound of steel against pavement. We came to an abrupt stop with the crash of breaking glass. Everything was still, the only noise was a soft hiss from the fractured engine. Our vehicle had come to rest on its left side.
I look a deep breath, my chest exploded with pain. I was sure that I had broken some ribs. I turned to find the Governor, she was lying under me, crushed against the rear door. I moved and she slowly sat up.
“Are you okay?” I shouted.
She grunted as she rose, “Yes, I think so. You?”
“I think I’ll survive, barely,” I said, rubbing my left side.
I looked into the front seat. The windshield was sprayed with blood. The head of the driver was split in two by a piece of metal fencing that was driven between his eyes. I could only see the shoulders of the passenger, I reached forward and grabbed his arm. The headless body slumped onto the center console. I jumped back, burning with fear.
The sick gangster groaned, his body was crushed between the front and backseat, the seatbelt shredded.
“I think we are in trouble,” I said. I looked around, trying to find a way out, we couldn’t stay here for long. We survived the crash, but now had to contend with the undead masses.
The right side door was directly over my head, it pushed open and I stuck my head out to survey the damage. We must have traveled about a quarter of a mile after we flattened our attackers. I could hear the rumbling moans of the Driftwood coming from behind me. I looked back and saw the street filling with shuffling corpses. They were fifty yards away, and gaining ground.
I ducked back down into the truck, “We can’t stay here, we have to move, fast. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” she whispered.
I jumped up on to the side of the Humvee, extending my arm to the Governor still sitting inside. I pulled her out of the truck and reflexively cursed from the pain. We stood, looking for an escape route. The Driftwood were coming from all directions, we were surrounded. I moved towards the front door and opened it, grabbing the automatic rifle from the passenger’s body.
I handed it to the Governor, “Do you know how to use one of these?”
“No, do you?” she said, twisting the weapon in her hands, examining it.
“No, but I think we are going to have to figure it out, fast.”
I dove into the front seat looking for more guns. I frisked the body of the dead driver and found a pistol holstered to his right lower leg. I slid the gun out of the leather case and jumped back up on top of the Humvee.
“Well, which way?” I asked.
We were in the middle of a long street heading towards the center of the town. I saw the wreckage of a small pickup truck lying on its side, a trail of debris led to our over turned Humvee; I was sure that we careened into it as we spun around the corner. I looked up and down the street. Garbage blew around in circles, controlled by unseen cyclones. The remnants of five or six ravaged bodies were strewn amidst the wasteland. There were no alleyways or side streets between us and gangs of Driftwood, the only way out was to go through them.
“I say we make a run for one of the shops. Maybe we can get inside, block the door and wait it out. Once they realize that can’t get us, they’ll wander off, and we can make our way back to the check point,” I said.
“I think you’re right, at least if we’re inside we’ll have time to think about what our next move will be,” she replied, jumping into the street.
I looked back into the Humvee and then turned to the Governor, who was now halfway across the street heading for a row of storefronts. I slipped back into the truck and leaned over the man who bitten. I placed my hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.” I placed the barrel of the pistol against his forehead and pulled the trigger. I stood, shaking, my feet covered in his blood.
I leapt from the truck and ran towards the Governor. The Driftwood were so close I could see their teeth grinding behind their curled lips. I felt their arms clumsily swiping at me as I scurried across the street. The stench of their rotting bodies swirled around my head.
The sun was sinking into the sea and the sky was a mix of red and black. The Governor was fumbling with a lock anchoring a metal security gate to the ground. I squatted next to her.
“It’s locked!” she yelled.
I threw my back into the metal grate, staring at the Driftwood lumbering towards us, they were no more than twenty feet away.
“Stand back!” I shouted and fired a shot into the lock. It blew apart sending shrapnel flying into the air. I grabbed the bottom of the grate and threw it up, the governor slipped under and reached her hand out to me.
Before I could grab her, I was pulled to the ground, striking facefirst. The pistol fell out of my hand and bounced into the street with a tinny clank. I could feel their moist hands clawing at me and I heard my clothes tear. I rolled onto my back and began swinging my fists at the ghouls. A desiccated face bent over me, pressing its cold, leathery nose against my skin; a raspy growl rang from its mouth.
A black streak flew in front of my face as the governor slammed the butt of the rifle into the head of the beast. With one continuous motion she pulled me into the store and slammed the gate shut.
A thunderous noise filled the dark store as the Driftwood pounded insistently on the steel barrier.
“It’s not going to hold them for long, we have to find a way out of here,” she said, heavily dropping to a sitting position on the floor next to me.
The grate shook and lifted slightly off the ground.
I stood up and looked around. We were in a mom and pop type convenience store. There were several rows of shelves stocked with food items labeled in a language I couldn’t read. Behind the food, in the rear of the store, were two walk-in coolers filled with soft drinks.
“Into the coolers, that will give us another barrier. Maybe there’s a back door, with the amount of noise they’re making, they’ll flock to the front of the store, the back exit might be clear,” I said.
We ran to the back of the store and entered a service door that led into the storage area behind the coolers. There were stacks of boxed food items and canned drinks, but no exit.
My breath formed white clouds as I panted with exhaustion. I leaned over, placing my hands on my knees and just tried to breathe, my ribs throbbing, blood still dripping from my scalp.
“This isn’t going to work,” the Governor spoke.
“I know,” I panted. “Let’s see what’s behind the counter, I think I saw a door.”
We left the cooler and ran to the front of the store. I jumped over the three sided service counter and kicked open the door to the manager’s office. It space was small and stank of mold and trash, there was hardly enough room for both of us. I saw a narrow, rickety staircase poking out from a doorway in the corner of the office.
“I say we go up! Let’s put some altitude between us and them!” I said.
We raced up the stairs and threw open a steel door that emptied on to the roof. The sky was black, millions of stars twinkled overhead, the hazy Milky Way sliced a white tear in the dark night. I slammed the door behind me and looked for something to barricade it with, but the rooftop was barren.
The doorway itself stood like a shack, alone and towering over the flat surface of the roof. A metal ladder was propped up against the side of the structure, it was probably used to make adjustments to the wiry television antenna that sat on top.
I leaned on the door, not sure what to do next. I couldn’t see any further than the next rooftop, the lack of city lights was like a blindfold.
“I’m not sure how much time we’ve got until they’re inside. I wonder how long it will take them to figure out what happened to us.” I whispered, my voice barely rising over the sinister howls coming from the street below.
I sat, my back slid down the door. The Governor walked in my direction, her feet rolling over the pebbled surface of the roof, and sat next to me.
My gaze fixed on my blood spattered shoes and my hands trembled.
The Governor placed her hand on my shoulder, “You did the right thing, there is nothing to feel bad about.”
I nodded my head and together we sat listened to the throngs of ghouls below.
After about 45 minutes the stillness was broken by a crashing sound from beneath us; the fully stocked shelves had toppled over.
“They’re in,” I said.
I stood up and walked a circle around the rooftop. The street was packed with Driftwood. A group of beasts stood on our overturned Humvee, hungrily snatching at the bloody bodies inside. I looked away and focused on finding an escape route. The closest building was about twelve feet away, too far to jump, even with a running start. My heart was pounding and my body tingled as adrenalin spilled into my blood.
“Bring me the ladder!” I yelled at the Governor.
She obliged and ran at me dragging the rusty ladder behind her. I took it from her and pulled on the end, extending to its maximum length. I dragged the ladder to the ledge and set it on end, slowly lowering it on to the rooftop of the adjacent building. I wiggled it around until there were a few inches of ladder resting on each ledge. We now had an escape route.
“Do you think it will hold us?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but we haven’t got much of a choice!”
A rumbling sound came from the doorway, the Driftwood had found the stairs. It was now or never.
The Governor knelt and crawled slowly across the make-shift bridge, the automatic rifle stretched across her back. The weak steel of the ladder creaked with every move she made and bowed as she paused at the half way point. I watched, unable to breathe.
She made it, and jumped up and down, waving her arms in the air as though she had just scored a game winning touchdown. I waved back and turned to look at the door behind me. I could still hear the heavy pounding of the Driftwood lumbering up the stairs.
Now, it was my turn. I dropped to my hands and knees and inched my way across the sagging link. The ladder squeaked as I slid along; I could feel it bending as I neared the middle. I looked down at the alleyway and saw streams of Driftwood heading towards the front of the store. The ladder shook as I increased my pace, the metal ends clinking as they lifted off the stone ledges of the two buildings. Finally, I was on the other side. I rolled off the ladder and onto the solid roof.
“Let’s keep going!” I shouted and took hold of the ladder, pulling it to our side.
I dragged it to the opposite end of the roof and gauged the distance. “Looks like it’s about the same distance, let’s go for it!” she yelled.
I again stood the ladder on its end and lowered it onto the ledge of the next building. We slipped across with no problem. I pulled the ladder to our side.
“Just in time, get down,” I whispered, pointing back at where we started.
The swarm burst through the door and overflowed onto the roof. The starving flock hissed and growled, shambling around looking for food.
They hadn’t seen us. We lay still for several minutes, just watching, our eyes barely peeking over the ledge. Several of the Driftwood lifted their heads, drawing the night air into their nostrils.
“They can smell us,” I whispered. I observed the night air surrounding us, the breeze was swirling between the buildings. “But they can’t tell where we are, let’s keep moving. Be very quiet.”
We crept to the opposite side of the roof. I dropped the ladder onto the adjacent ledge and we again crept over the alleyway. I wondered how much more the ladder could take as I made my way across.
The next building was the last on the block, across the street was the cathedral. The road leading back to the guard tower was in front of us.
“Haven’t we put ourselves into the proverbial corner, Doctor? We’ve reached the end,” the Governor said.
“No, this way we only have to worry about defending one front,” I said, pointing back in the direction of our starting point. “If we stayed on any of those other roofs, we’d have to worry about back and front. What would happen if we were cut off? This is perfect, actually,” I said, eyeing the road beneath us. “There are a few down there, looks like they are still moving in the direction of our wreck. I think we should hold tight until morning, let it die down. Then we can slip out and run for it,” I said indicating the direction of the guard tower.
She agreed, and we squatted down in the far corner of the roof. I stretched out my legs and felt the tension fade from my muscles. The pain in my chest increased in intensity with every breath I took and my head ached.
“Are you ok, any injuries from the crash?” I asked.
“No, I think I am ok, you?”
“I think I broke some ribs and I have a wicked headache, other than that, I am ok.”
“Will you be okay until morning?”
“I should be, it’ll hurt, but I’ll be fine. I don’t think I am bleeding internally, or I would have been dead by now,” I replied, rubbing my left side.