Zombie Rules (Book 3): ZFINITY (37 page)

“Alright, assholes,” she said, “it’s time to show you a little trick that Fred taught me.” Kelly had the rig’s speed up to sixty now. She knew this section of roadway well. It was the route they always took to the school and radio tower. She hugged the right side of the roadway, leaving plenty of room for the car to drive up beside her. She hoped they would take the bait. They did.

They swerved to the left and maneuvered their car beside her quickly, all the while continuing to shoot at her. Kelly prayed the glass from the bank teller’s windows was really bullet proof as rounds began striking it. She let off the gas and braked hard while simultaneously turning the wheel sharply to the left. The corner of the front bumper caught the car where their front passenger tire was located. Kelly downshifted and floored it. It didn’t take off like a race car, more like a diesel truck weighing several thousand pounds. Nevertheless, the tactic worked. The bumper made contact against her assailant’s tire and pushed the car to the left. They tried to brake, but it didn’t work. They lost control, ran off the roadway and into the ditch.

“Fred would have been so proud of me,” she said. She was grinning, but there were also fresh tears running down her cheeks.

I was on the outskirts of Joelton and tired as hell. I’d probably only slept three or four hours in the last few days.

I sat on the guardrail warming myself in the noon sun, thinking about the last week. That’s how long I’d been away from my home and family. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

There were four of them lying at my feet. I’d only been walking for ten minutes when the bastards bum rushed me when I walked by a Greyhound bus. Yeah, they were moving quicker than I’d ever seen since all of this shit started. It wouldn’t be long before they would be able to run like track stars.

Fortunately for me, Rick had taught me many things, including unorthodox methods of sharpening blades. He had showed me more than once how to use ceramic of a toilet to use as a sharpening stone. I made use of that knowledge at an abandoned house I slept in, broke off a chunk of ceramic from one of the toilets and honed my machete to a reasonable degree of sharpness. I couldn’t shave with it, but it was sharp enough to dispatch those four before they could chew on me.

If I had a working automobile, I was only about twenty minutes from home, but I was on foot, constantly dodging zombies and wondering how much longer it was going to take. Although I had not seen any Marines in the last two days, I was not able to put in very much mileage. I was constantly encountering packs of zombies. Instead of killing them, I’d hide, unless I had no choice, like the four that bum rushed me. I slept on the top of a semi-trailer one night only to awaken to a pack of them aimlessly milling around. I wondered if somehow they had gotten a scent of me but couldn’t locate my position. They kept me at bay for a full day and a half before finally moving on.

I’d given up on the hopes of finding a running vehicle. I wasted too many hours searching for one, only to encounter dead batteries and empty gas tanks.

I found a bicycle in the house I shacked up in and thought I had struck gold. The tires were flat, but it had one of those little air pumps attached to the rail, so I thought I was in business. Unfortunately, the tires had dry-rotted. I made it about a half a mile before they went flat.

Deciding I was wasting far too much time attempting to find reliable transportation, I reminded myself only to rely on my two feet, which had never let me down.

I had a small amount of luck though, I found a knapsack and on occasion I’d spot innocuous little items in the abandoned cars that I could make use of. I even found a granola bar wedged between the seats of one car. It was old and gooey, but it tasted wonderful.

I took one last look at the zombies who attacked me and began walking, vowing to get at least ten miles in before the sun went down. I probably walked three steps when I heard it. It was a vehicle. More specifically, it sounded like a diesel truck. I ducked into a minivan, which was occupied by a couple of sets of skeletal remains and waited. The truck came into view a couple of minutes later. The driver was having trouble maneuvering around and in between the abandoned vehicles. They used the oversized plow which was affixed to the front bumper, but not with very much efficiency. The driver kept stopping and moving forward timidly instead of busting through the abandoned vehicles.

I recognized the truck. Hell, Fred and I are the ones who found it and modified it. I squinted and tried to focus on who was in it. The current driver, whoever it was, crept along very slowly. I waited somewhat impatiently as it approached. The bulletproof glass that Fred and I had mounted with makeshift brackets was scarred with the impacts of bullets, as was a lot of the truck. The thick glass prevented me from identifying the driver, but they looked like a female. Was it Julie? I jumped out of the minivan and ran toward the truck, waving my arms frantically.

The driver stopped the truck in front of me and a moment later, I heard the sound of the airbrakes being set. The door opened and a woman exited.

It wasn’t Julie, it was Kelly, and she looked like hell. She ran with a limp as she grabbed me in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Zach, I never thought I’d see you again!” she cried. I held her just as tight but held in the emotions that I was feeling as she sobbed in unrestrained despair.

“Holy shit, Kelly, what the hell are you doing way out here?” I asked. She tried to answer, but she was sobbing too hard.

I waited her out, but I was worried the noise would attract attention. I comforted her as best that I could before gently prying her off of me.

“What happened?” I asked. “Where is everyone else?”

“They’re dead, Zach, they’re all dead.”

I inhaled sharply, but before I could ask her for details, I heard the sounds of dogs barking nearby, a lot of them.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“What is it?” she asked as I grabbed her by the arm and walked quickly to the truck.

“It’s a feral dog pack,” I replied. I’d heard them barking earlier and wondered if they had picked up my scent. I gestured at the truck and started moving her along. “We need to get out of here, get in,” I ordered. She obeyed but had trouble climbing the steps. It was then I noticed a tear along the thigh of her jeans and dried bloodstains.

“Hurry up,” I urged and looked down the Interstate. The pack was visible now. There were about ten of them, led by a large alpha male Rottweiler. Any question as to whether or not they had my scent was answered. They were running toward us at a full gallop now. Kelly had grabbed the handrails, but was still moving slowly. There was no time for niceties. I put my hands on her butt and roughly pushed her into the cab. I jumped in right behind her and managed to get the door closed just as the lead dog leapt up.

“That was a close one,” I said as I watched the pack circling the truck and barking excitedly. They were convinced they had us trapped, which was partially true.

“Alright, we’ll talk in a minute, but right now we’ve got to get out of here, they’re making too much noise.”

“Won’t they follow us?” Kelly asked. I looked back at the dogs, realizing she was right. I gestured toward the pistol on her waist.

“Do you have any other weapons in here?” I asked. She reached into the back and retrieved an M4 assault rifle. I tossed the machete, grabbed the rifle, cleared it, and performed a function check. The magazine had only ten rounds in it. I reinserted it and yanked on the charging handle.

“If I take out that alpha male, I think it’ll scare them off,” I explained. After several minutes of aiming the rifle out of the porthole without results, I opened the door partially and banged on it. As expected, several of the dogs lunged toward the door. The big Rottie pushed his way to the front, which was what I was hoping for. My first shot only wounded him. He yelped, but it stunned him long enough for a head shot. When he fell, one of the other dogs ran up and started sniffing him. I shot him just under the eye. The rest of the pack instantly scattered.

“Okay, we really need to get out of here now,” I said urgently. Kelly nodded in understanding. I put the truck in gear and made a U-turn.

“Talk to me,” I said as I maneuvered the truck around the various obstacles. Kelly had surprisingly found a route from Nolensville through the urban area of Nashville and around the flooded areas. I followed her directions, but I wanted to know what had happened after my abduction.

“Let’s hear it,” I repeated.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but when you were late coming home, Terry and Andie went looking for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think they went to the school and then were coming home when they were ambushed. I was in the barn at the homestead when I heard the gunshots. At first, I thought they were under zombie attack. When I walked out of the barn, Konya was standing in the doorway of the house. He got shot by somebody and fell back inside.”

“So, what happened then?”

“I ran back into the barn and hid. I was unarmed and didn’t know what else to do,” she said, somewhat defensively.

“Okay, I understand. What happened then?”

Kelly slowly, painfully, told me the rest of the story. I could see the agony in her face. I believe Marc and Ward would have called it survivor’s guilt.

“Are you sure everyone is dead?” I asked. Kelly shook her head.

“That’s what Terry told me before he died. The only ones I know of for sure, are Terry and Konya.” She wiped some fresh tears before continuing.

“Once I got the truck and escaped, I kind of drove around aimlessly. In spite of Terry’s warning, I went to the school. They seemed genuinely shocked, but their attitude was like, better us than them.” She shook her head. “Not a single one of them said, hey Kelly, you’ve been through a lot, why don’t you stay with us.” I nodded in bitter understanding.

“So, I went looking for Bo and Penny, but they’ve bugged out and nobody knows where they are. Then I went across the street to Chet’s old friends. Johnny actually laughed when I told him about what had happened.” She was lost in thought a moment before continuing. “You guys went out of your way to help all of them, and it didn’t seem to make a difference.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “some people are like that. I can’t explain it.”

She looked at me a long moment. “What happened to you?”

I told her the story, starting with Felix and his pals betraying me and ending with my escape. I didn’t bother going on about the last week of trying to get home. It could wait until another time.

“So, what the heck are you doing up here in Joelton?”

“It was Terry’s idea. He told me to get the truck and get the hell out of there. He said I shouldn’t trust anyone at the school and he suggested I make my way to Fort Campbell. I didn’t take his advice at first, but after striking out everywhere else…”

I nodded in partial understanding. “I’m not sure it was a good idea, but I’m certainly glad you came this way.” I glanced over at her while I drove. “When you ran them off the road, was it a bad wreck?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really know. I saw them run into the ditch, it didn’t look too bad, but I didn’t exactly stick around to check on them, you know?”

That meant they probably were not killed or injured. No matter, I was going to deal with them one way or another. I saw her looking at the leg injury and could see fresh blood seeping around the tear in her pants leg.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“It’s bleeding again and it hurts like hell. Maybe you could take a look at it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s find a place to hide first.”

“What are we going to do, Zach?”

I grunted. “After we get you fixed up, we’re going home. We have unfinished business there.”

“You have an infection,” I said. We ultimately decided to stop in a parking garage located near the intersection of White Bridge Road and Harding. It provided cover and was not far from home. After parking, I got Kelly on the bed in the sleeper compartment. She didn’t look very well when we first met, and within the last hour, her condition had gotten worse. I had helped her pull her jeans off and carefully removed the dirty rag she had wrapped around her leg. The gash was on the outer side of her thigh, about four inches long, swollen, and oozing out pus. I leaned forward and smelled it. Not good.

“How bad is it?” she asked nervously.

“It could be worse, could be better.”

“Can you stitch it up?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I could have on the day it happened, but not now. We’re going to have to do something a little different.” She started to ask me to explain, but I held up a hand.

“I’ll explain later. Let me think a minute.” I was so tired my brain was not firing on all cylinders. I had to think things through slowly, not like I normally did.

We hadn’t cleared this area and so I had no idea if there were any humans or zombies lurking around. It was a chance I was going to have to take. The one thing I was sure of was a creek nearby, a pharmacy, and plenty of garbage dumpsters.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you here for a little while and try to find some things we need. Do you need to go to the restroom or anything?” I asked. Kelly shook her head.

“Are you going to be gone long?”

“I don’t think so, maybe an hour.” I handed her the fob for the truck locks.

“I want you to stay back here in the sleeper and be as quiet as a church mouse. I’m going to lock the truck behind me. When I come back, I’m going to knock and then say the password. It’ll be Nashville, and if you’re in danger give the duress password of Tennessee, okay? Oh, and say it loud enough where I can hear it, but don’t shout at the top of your lungs, unless your life is in immediate danger.” She nodded in understanding. I tried to give a reassuring smile, but couldn’t do it. Instead, I nodded curtly.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I said and exited the truck before she had a chance to ask me any additional annoying questions.

I was now armed with the M4, but I only had eight rounds left. I grabbed one of the jerry cans, looked around for any threats, and then sprinted across the street to a strip mall on the other side of White Bridge Road. At the opposite end was one of those super-duper grocery stores with all of your shopping needs, including a pharmacy.

Just as I suspected, the store was infested, not with rats, but with cats. There must have been twenty or thirty of them. It still smelled awful though, maybe even worse than rat odor, if that was possible. I struggled to hold down the beef jerky I had eaten about ten minutes ago and ventured in.

I was not worried about the cats attacking and killing me, but if I got a bad scratch it could easily become infected. I’d have to tread lightly. Thankfully, they scattered when they saw me, probably believing I was a zombie in search of a cat snack.

It pained me to do it, but I used the truck driver’s well used bandana to cover my face. I’d rinsed it out a few times, but it was still in rough shape. As quietly as I could, I made my way back to the pharmacy. The place was a wreck. Stuff was strewn everywhere and the shelves were bare. I looked around in disgust and started to give up when I happened to spot one of those bags with the prescription and instructions stapled to the outside. It was lying in the middle of a bunch of debris and cat turds. Picking it up, I looked at the prescription - Ampicillin.

“Bingo,” I said aloud before catching myself. I pocketed the bag and made my way back out of the store.

Taking several breaths of fresh air, I headed around to the back of the shopping center where there was a creek. The water really smelled bad, almost like raw sewage. Even though we had a couple of those stick water filters back in the truck, I was reluctant to chance it, especially when I saw a dead deer lying on the creek bank. On a hunch, I walked closer and inspected it. It was covered in maggots.

“Well, at least now I don’t have to go crawling around in a nasty dumpster,” I said, only in a whisper this time. Using the bag that the pill bottle was in, I scraped several maggots into it and folded it closed.

“Zach, please don’t do that,” Kelly pleaded, but I was not in the mood to coddle her.

“Listen to me for a minute,” I snapped. “Do you want to lose your leg?” Kelly looked at me apprehensively. “Well, if gangrene sets in, I’ll either have to cut your leg off of just let you die.” I knew I was being harsh but my disposition was frazzled. I was trying, without success, not to stress out over the fate of my family. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.

“Maybe I’ve not explained it properly,” I said. “The maggots will eat away
only
the dead stuff. They don’t like living flesh. They’ll help the wound heal.”

“But we have the antibiotics,” she implored. I muttered an expletive under my breath.

“It won’t be enough. You have to trust me on this.” What I didn’t say was I had no idea if the combination of the maggots and the expired Ampicillin were going to do the trick. I didn’t see any red squiggly lines around her wound more than a quarter of an inch long, but for all I knew, it was already too late.

I looked at her expectantly. After a moment, she reluctantly nodded her head and moved her hands away from her thigh. I opened the bag, dumped all of the maggots in her wound before she could complain, and used one of Fred’s clean tee shirts to wrap it.

“Okay, it won’t hurt, but I imagine it’ll be a little irritating. Don’t scratch it. Let those little fellows do their job, okay?” Kelly nodded her head again. I looked her leg over again, wasn’t satisfied, found another tee shirt in the drawer and wrapped it around her leg as well. She looked ashen and feverish. I didn’t say it out loud, but I was worried for her. I encouraged her to drink and fed her some pills.

“Alright, get under the blanket and try to get some sleep.” She did so without protest and then looked at me.

“Zach, will you lie here with me?”

I shook my head. “I want to keep watch for a little while and make sure we’re safe. You never know if someone is hiding out there and they’ve seen us. Besides, I haven’t had a bath in several days.”

“Neither have I, but you look exhausted,” she said. “You need to sleep.” In fact, I was terribly exhausted. I ached from head to toe, especially the spot on my leg from the recent surgery, but I was too stressed out even to think about sleep.

“I’ll be alright. Maybe I’ll lie down once it gets dark. You get some sleep though. I need you to break that fever.” She nodded in acquiescence.

I moved back into the front of the cab and sat in the driver’s seat. I really wanted to drive straight home, but I knew I couldn’t. As exhausted as I was, I was fearful I’d drive us straight into a trap. I checked myself in the vanity mirror mounted on the back of the visor. I looked awful. My gaunt face was dirty, chapped, sunburned, had multiple bug bites, and I don’t think I’d even bothered combing my hair for the past few days. I’d lost a lot of weight, at least twenty pounds, and in summation, I looked like shit warmed over.

I looked back in the sleeper. Kelly was already out. I readjusted the blanket on her before resuming my seat and watched the streets. The only signs of life were the cats wandering around. Not even a single zombie. Eventually, it got too dark to see. Somewhere in there, I drifted off to sleep.