This Dying World: The End Begins (21 page)

Abby released a torrent of gunfire through the back window as arms stretched through the broken glass, but it was like trying to drain an ocean with a teaspoon.  One fell to her barrage, and another took its place before the first one hit the ground.

I tried to weave the car in an attempt to dislodge the things from their death grip (no pun intended) on the rear window.  But they were relentless, refusing to be dislodged once they felt their food was in reach.  It was not long before I realized that Abby could not possibly keep up with their numbers. We were dangerously close to being overrun in our own car.

“Lexi!  We need you!” I shouted despite my earlier protests against her handling firearms again.  She popped her head from under her blankets, and her face paled when she looked around the car.  She looked back at me with fear and confusion in her eyes.

“We need you!”  I repeated, thrusting my pistol at her.

She blinked her eyes for a minute, and then I saw something change in her.  It was a change in her demeanor that took me a long time to fully understand.  It was if her fear and confusion melted away, leaving behind a mix of anger and determination.  Her eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched.  She took a deep breath, and moved with lightning speed.

My weapon was out of my hand and in hers before I knew it was gone.  She spun around in her seat and chambered a live round.  With a fraction of a second to aim, she placed a neat hole in the pale blue forehead of a creature.  Two more pistol cracks, and two more zombies left this world for the last time.

I pushed forward, through what seemed an endless mass of bodies.  They bore horrific injuries, their last moments of life locked in grisly detail on their decaying forms.  Guts had been torn out, the gaping wounds allowing viscera to fall out and drag on the ground as they walked.  My stomach turned as our tires churned meat and bone, throwing the pulpy tissue into the air.  I feared we would soon lose traction on the gory slop, but Abby’s Honda pushed ahead.

The shotgun snapped as the weapon went dry.  Abby scrounged around desperately for more shells, cursing loudly when she found the box of ammunition was empty.  She dropped the gun, its searing hot barrel burning into the car seat fabric.  Lexi’s own pistol locked back as her magazine emptied.  The sorrowful howls of the dead grew as the crescendo of gunfire ended.  Their excitement elevated, as if they knew we were momentarily defenseless against their onslaught.

“Abby!” I shouted as I fed the rifle into the back seat.  She grabbed it and unloaded a full magazine into the creatures trying to advance further into our car. I fumbled around the duty belt looking for any spare magazines I could toss back to Lexi.  The car rocked violently as the dead intensified their attack.  The situation was quickly deteriorating, going from desperate to hopeless with every passing second.

We were suddenly showered with glass as the front passenger window shattered.  Arms shot inward, raking their grime coated fingers through the air.  Lexi shrieked as the back seat window gave way immediately afterwards.  Bloated and blackened hands grabbed Lexi’s hair, pulling her closer to its mouth as broken yellow teeth clacked together.

“Let her go!” Abby screamed as she beat the creature with the rifle butt, thrusting it like a spear into its face.  Lexi flailed wildly, trying to break free of the things grasp.  Jaws clamped down on her hair.  It pulled its head backwards as it tried to pull Lexi out of the car.  Abby drew the rifle back and slammed its forehead once more with the rifle stock.  Its head shot back, ripping hair from Lexi’s head as it fell.  Lexi lunged away from the window, turning herself on her back and kicking at creatures now forcing their way inside.

The undead launched themselves through the back window again, pulling themselves across our supplies and towards us.  Without the barrage of gunfire to keep them at bay, there was nothing to stop their advance.  With ammo out of reach, Abby could only use the rifle to hammer at the things.  I glanced around the front seat and suddenly caught sight of the small Kevlar bag that we had pulled from the squad car.

I reached for the bag where it lay on the passenger side floorboard.  Icy cold fingers reaching through the window dragged across my face as more hands latched onto my coat sleeve.  I threw myself back, and out of reach.  I searched for anything that would allow me to safely reach the bag, when I saw the bright orange handle sticking out from between the front seats.

The dead blow hammer was still caked with blood.  It ripped free from the floorboard fabric to which it clung.  I fed the handle through the small black loops atop the bag.  The excitement of the ravenous creatures amplified as I put myself inches from their grasp.  With one hand on the wheel, I lifted the bag slowly to avoid it slipping away beyond my reach.

A small hand suddenly grabbed at my bag, pulling it towards the window.  Instinctively, I released the wheel and grabbed the nylon handle as I tried to wrench the thing free from the seemingly disembodied hands.  I let the hammer drop as I latched on to the handles with both hands, pulling for all I was worth while trying to keep the car steady with one knee.

Resistance suddenly disappeared with a loud snap.  A bright light flashed across my vision as my head slammed against the window behind me.  I looked to see a long jagged crack along the length of the glass.  The decimated face of a teenage girl slammed against the window, causing the crack to widen further.  Her one chalky dead eye glared, pressing her open mouth against the window until her teeth broke into jagged shards under the pressure.

The crack splintered off in different directions.  I felt like a hiker who suddenly realized he was standing on a frozen lake, watching the ice crack and knowing he was only seconds from an icy death.  Soon the glass would shatter and the undead would be on me.  I could no longer reach the hammer without getting scratched or bitten.  Behind me, Abby and Lexi beat at creatures as they advanced through the shattered windows.  Their fearful cries mounted as the things gained ground.  The rear view mirror showed three more making their way into the back, their torsos already inside.

“We’re dead,” I said under my breath as I readied myself.  I would not let my family be eaten alive.  I would not let the kids live through that hell.  My foot lifted from the accelerator as reached for the hammer, exposing myself to the undead reaching through the passenger window.  For what I was about to do, being torn apart and eaten alive by ghouls was not a fitting punishment.  But I would make it quick, and the kids would not suffer.

“Dan, look ahead!” Abby screamed.  I shot upright, planting my foot back on the gas pedal.  It appeared that someone upstairs was finally watching our backsides.  I had paid so much attention to the creatures breaching our car that I had not noticed the herd had thinned considerably in front of us.  The opening was small, but it was there.  We were only five creatures deep from open road.

“Lexi! Ammo!” I shouted with new found hope.  I tossed the bag behind me.  The zipper ripped open, followed by the unmistakable sound of a magazine slamming home.

The engine strained as I steadily accelerated.  The car wasn’t built for the kind of torture we were putting it through and the motor was starting to protest its abuse.  Nonetheless, I had the intense desire to bury the pedal.

Abby screamed (or maybe it was me) as the driver’s window finally gave way.  I involuntarily jerked the wheel to the side, swerving the car as I dodged the grime coated teeth that snapped inches from my face

I don’t remember the pop, but I do remember the bumblebee that whizzed by my head, the heat it gave off nearly singed my ear.  The creature’s head snapped back as it fell lifeless to the ground.  I looked back in time to see Lexi take aim and fire again.  Four shots in rapid succession, and only the living remained in the car once again.

“To hell with this!” I said to myself as I gunned the engine.  The car jumped, pushing us back into our seats as we were propelled forward.  We blasted through the last line of the dead, striking a frail looking ghoul hard enough to send it flying through the air.

Abby pushed the now motionless corpses back outside the window with the rifle barrel, their bodies rolling like rag dolls on the pavement as we sped away.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Minutes passed before any of us could catch our breaths.  The acrid smell of gun powder mingled with the powerful scent of rancid death.  Katie and Jane cried deep heartbreaking sobs.  My foot welded itself to the floorboard, racing away from an enemy that had no hope of catching us for the time being.

I had no doubt they would follow.  They had food in their sights, and they would not give up their quarry so easily.  If Chris was upset about my invitation for people to come to his farm, he was going to be really pissed about these party guests.

I refused to back down on our speed.  We were drawing closer to the farm with every mile, and I was done with this trip.  I was drained physically and mentally.  My girls needed to feel safe and warm.  The faster I got to the farm, the faster this trip would just become a horrible memory.  Not to mention, the more distance I put between us and the horde could mean the zombie mass might find an equally tantalizing distraction.  Possibly a couple of bikers?  One could hope.

The supplies we had taken so much time to procure had suffered greatly.  Anything that was not wrapped, canned, or covered in some way was destroyed by zombie goo.  I was happy that the air flow from the newly ventilated vehicle pulled away the fumes from the degrading brain matter.  I had no desire to replay the experience when I ventured too close to exposed brain.

Unfortunately, the breeze did little to overcome the new odor permeating the vehicle.  The car smelled like a ripe slaughterhouse.  The volume of gore that has been sprayed inside was miniscule though, when compared to what had been painted along the outside.  Rust colored blood smeared down the sides of the car.  Pieces of putrid rotting flesh caked to the hood where several of the creatures had been pushed aside during our slow egress.

The young girls had already climbed from their hiding spot and into Abby’s arms.  They were curled up in little balls, not making a sound.  She kept them covered in blankets, trying to protect them from the dark sticky remains covering the car.  Lexi stared blankly out the window.  Her face was barren of emotion.  Her porch light was on, but at the moment, no one was home.  Had I not been driving, I probably would have gone to my happy place too.  There’s beer there, and everyone knows me.

“Lexi,” I broke the silence.  “You still with us?”

“Hmm?” she shook her head.

“Can you please hand me the pistol?”  I asked.  She nodded, silently handing the cooling weapon forward.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

Lexi continued to stare.

“Lexi.  Talk to me.  Where did you learn to shoot like that?” I repeated more forcefully.

“I grew up on a farm.  We had chickens.  My job was to kill possums that got too close to the coop,” she said.

“You got that good shooting possums?  I swear I think you shaved some of the hair from the back of my head.”

To my relief, the hint of a smile cracked across her face.  “No.  I got that good shooting them from my bedroom window.  I don’t like getting close to those things.  They look like rats.”

“Wait, you hit those things with a pistol from inside the house?!”

“I used a rifle usually.  I don’t like pistols.  They’re too bulky and hard to aim.” Her mood began to noticeably improve.

“You popped off a shot that close to my head, and you have a hard time aiming with a pistol?!”

“You’re still alive.  Don’t complain,” she smiled.

“Okay, we definitely need to have a conversation about you’re obsession with shooting in my direction,” I said pointing at her.

“You leave her alone,” Abby said.  “She can shoot at you as often as she likes.”

“I love you too, dear,” I said sarcastically.

“Wait a minute.  I know this place!”  I gasped as I was hit with my first sense of familiarity since we began our journey.  I had never travelled on such a zigzag, backwards and roundabout course to my brother’s home, and I had never approached his farm from the direction I was coming from.  I had driven around with him enough to have some sense of what the area surrounding his farm looked like.  We were very close.

I felt intense relief wash over me, and I almost let a tear slip out.  The warm comfort of family and maybe even some friends close by was so inviting, I felt like I was coming home for Christmas.  Even Abby felt it, a look of hope flashed across her face as sudden recognition hit her.

“We’re almost there!” Abby’s face lit up as she grabbed Lexi’s shoulders and shook her.  Lexi’s eyes grew wide, laughing and sobbing at the same time as she buried her face in her own hands.  Our journey was almost over, and everyone’s emotion meters were pegged in the red.

I did not hear the shot before the bullet punched through our radiator.  White steam hissed as it escaped high into the air.  Two bikes screamed towards us on an intersecting road ahead of us, racing to cut us off at where our two roads met.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” I shouted as I sent every bit of lead left in the pistol’s magazine downfield in rapid succession, screaming expletives with every shot.

The two weaved, slowing momentarily as they avoided my shots.  They really didn’t have to.  I would have missed them if they were twenty feet tall and painted bright red.  Shooting while angry and driving at high speed is not easy.  The birds overhead had more to fear than the two bikers.  However, their slight delay was enough to edge us past the crossroads, with seconds to spare before they turned in behind us.  It was a small victory, but I took it.  I heard a shot as we raced through the intersection, but the round found no target.  See, it’s not that easy, and I’m betting they have more practice.

“Are there any more bullets?”  I asked to anyone who would answer.

“They’re all in back,” Abby replied.  “They’re covered in brain, and I can’t get close to them without my eyes burning!”

“Awesome,” I said.  “Maybe they just want to chat?  Trade recipes for peanut butter cookies perhaps?  Any chance they will respond to harsh language?”

“Can’t you ever be serious?” she snapped.

“Can’t people stop asking me that?” I replied.

“Well, what now?” Abby demanded.

“My phone!” I shouted.

“What are you going to do with that?!  Throw it at them?”

“Now who’s not being serious?”

“Shut up!” Abby replied.  “Calling Chris?”

“Yeah,” I said handing my cell phone to her.  “Dial Chris, then everyone get down.  I’m guessing they’re going to want to return my bullets.”

She dialed the phone and thrust it forward before pushing all the girls down again.  They lay flat against the seat, trying to become as small a target as possible.  I held my breath as the phone took far too long to connect.  Static shouted at me as I pressed the phone closer to my ear, praying to hear a ring tone.  Instead I was met with a recorded message that all circuits were busy.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I hit redial.  Chancing a quick glance behind me, I saw the two were gaining, but not as quickly as before.  I guess having your cheek almost torn off by a pissed off woman with a shotgun will make a guy a little gun-shy.

“Holy shit it’s good to hear your voice again!” Chris’ voice boomed from the phone.  “Where the hell have you been?!  I’ve been shitting bricks over here!”

“That must hurt,” I said.  “Now do me a favor and shut up for a minute.  We’re about five minutes out, and we’re just shy of warp speed, be ready!”

“Wait, what the hell are you speeding for?  Zeds can’t run!”

“No,” I answered.  “But backwoods rapist assholes can ride bikes!”  A shot rang out behind me, punching a clean hole through my windshield.  Cracks spider webbed across the glass as a chorus of screams from the back seat filled the car.

“And they can shoot!” I shouted.

“Crap!” I heard him shout over the growing static.  “Okay, bring … up … driveway … I’ll…” The call broke up and dropped.  I hoped I understood what he wanted me to do.

“How far!?” Abby cried out.

“Two minutes!” I shouted back.

“Can you make it under one?” she asked.

“I’m givin’ her all she’s got Captain!  I cannot change the laws of physics!”

“Jesus!” Abby started.  “Can’t you just be…”

“Don’t you ask what I think you’re about to!  You know the answer!” I cut her off.

Steam billowed from the front end as I pushed the car well beyond its capabilities.  The car shuddered as a high pitched whine began to emanate from under the hood.  The steam darkened, black wisps of smoke began to mix with the white steam.  My sight obscured as I tried to peer through the rapidly thickening cloud.  My breath caught as I suddenly realized I was moments from shooting past the farm’s driveway.

“Hold on!” I spat as I mashed the brakes, the G-forces throwing everyone and everything against the back of my seat.  I cut the wheel, and was gripped with fear.  I was afraid that the vehicle would either flip or it would fishtail away from my turn and we would come face to face with the two assholes.

My heart started to beat again as the rear tire gained traction.  The engine protested as I prodded it forward faster than it should go in its damaged state.  Dirt and gravel spit from the tires as we shot towards the house.  I had never been so happy to see that old broken down stone silo.

“Where is he?” Abby peeked her head up.

“There,” I said, nodding towards the house.  “Up in the open window on the second floor.”

“I don’t see him,” she said as she ducked back down.

“That’s the idea.”

I pressed on the brakes.  I thought driving through my brother’s barn would not be a nice thing to do.  The idea did cross my mind though.  Slowing down would allow our pursuers to close the little gap we had between us.  Whatever Chris was going to do, he needed to do it.

“This may get ugly!  Keep your heads down!” I shouted to the back seat.  “This will be over real soo…”

I wondered which one of the kids could kick my seat so hard.  The windshield completely shattered away as my body was suddenly buffeted by wintery air.  I was cold and yet my chest was very warm.  The car was rolling to a stop, but for some reason I couldn’t steer away from the silo.  My limbs refused to listen as I felt us gently bump the gray stone of the ancient silo.  It was strange that such a small bump could cause the front end to dent so badly.  I could fix it, but boy Abby was going to be pissed.  It was Christmas though, and we were visiting the farm.  She wouldn’t stay mad for too long once she got to see the kids playing in the snow.

Why does it sound like my head is full of rushing water?
I thought to myself. 
And what’s with the screaming?

But why would we be on the farm at Christmas instead of my mother’s house?  And for that matter, why was I outside wearing these clothes.  Where was my jacket?

“Oh,” I said looking down.  Blood poured from the neat little hole on the upper right side of my chest.  Abby’s face was in mine.  Screaming I think.  Definitely crying.  She was going to be even more pissed.  She hates crying in front of people.

Chris was suddenly there.  He looked mad.  He held a pistol in his hands.  I remember I had to tell him something important, but I didn’t remember what.  Something about a whore in the east, or eastern wood horns.  I think I may have said something about pickle pudding likes cheese berries.  Either way he looked upset.

I felt really tired.  I was where I wanted to be, that much I knew for certain.  Seemed like a good time for a nap.

**********

Chris slowed his breathing as his vision tunneled through the scope.  He saw Dan’s car fishtail dangerously close to tipping over before regaining control.  He allowed himself some measure of relief as Dan sped up his long driveway.  He saw the bikers follow, maybe twenty feet behind his brother.  Too much dirt had been kicked up for him to see the riders clearly.

No shot.

They followed closely behind the limping car.  The earth rose and fell along the roadway, obscuring his view as he tried to track the two with his rifle.  He sat back in his darkened room as to not be seen from the road.  He saw Old Biker fire his pistol before they rode behind a patch of trees, and out of the rifle’s line of sight.

No shot.

He heard Dan’s car hit something outside.  Sweat poured down his face despite the cold air blowing through the open window.  He feared the worst had already happened.  He cursed his land for not giving him the angle he needed to end the chase.  The bikers finally came into view, brakes squealing as they rolled to a stop.  The engines cut off and the two dismounted their bikes.  They talked and laughed as Chris lined up the crosshairs with the face of Young Biker.

“From a place you’ll never see comes the shot you’ll never hear,” he quoted.

Chris squeezed the trigger.