-9-
"...there shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and unjust." Acts 24:15
Jason slumped in the truck bed, packed in with at least twenty other men, all tired and wounded.
Their faces were covered in dirt. One man moaned, sweat and blood running down his neck. His arm was mangled, and he was growing paler by the minute. Jason turned to a man on his right, a tall guy with a buzz cut and a busted lip named Jay.
"Do you think he'll be all right?" He motioned to the severely wounded man. Jay shook his head.
"We just got back from an apartment complex filled with zombies. We were going into a room, and we found a whole family. All were zombies, even the little girl…"
Jay trailed off for a minute, pausing before going on. "He used to have a little girl, you know."
Jason glanced at the bleeding man. He had stopped groaning, but was now rocking back and forth.
"He snapped or something. Told us we couldn't kill the girl, told us we'd have to go through him first. Poor guy, he's delusional. Guessed he couldn't handle it, so we tried to take him outside… He ended up being torn up by that little girl. The whole time he was crying out a girl's name… I think it was Amy."
The rest of the men sat silently, heads low. "You all were on that mission?" Jay nodded. "This place is just so wrong. If I didn't know better, I'd think those zombies were using the fire to an advantage. They cornered a whole squad and mutilated them in a burning building."
Suddenly, the man stopped rocking and let out a cry. More like a shriek, but they all knew what was happening. "Give me your gun, I'll do it," a guy to his right said. The shrieking man screamed again, and said, "No! I'm fine!" He was beginning to froth at the mouth, white stuff mixed in with pink.
Blood.
It was different for everyone, some people just fall over and that's it. Others go violently. The gun was loaded and pointed at the man.
The trigger was pulled, and they all went silent.
"Get him out off of the truck," Jay said.
They slid the body to the edge and threw him over. The zombies were instantly on him, coming out from the alleys and shadows. Although it was such a tragic way to die, none of them looked upset. Tired, but not sad at all. Finally, Jay broke the silence.
"Where were you at?" Jason leaned back and looked at the sky, which was slowly filling with smoke and ash. "We were storming a warehouse. It was almost as bad as what you went through. A lot of guys died." The truck passed the remains of an earlier burn; a whole vehicle now reduced to a pile of blackened steel and charred leather. The smell was horrible, but it masked the smell of decay, which was even worse. He'd been smelling it for weeks.
The truck flew down Main Street, only to find a dead end. The fire had blocked the road and now they couldn't get through there. There was a one-way road that branched off of it and the driver made for that. "Hold on tight, you guys," the driver shouted. He swerved to the right to avoid a pack of zombies, slammed the brake, and backed up over them. There was a sickening crunch of bones under the tires. All the men except Jason cheered out.
"Good one, Klipspringer!" Joey Klipspringer leaned out of the window and gave the thumbs up. "Just hang on there, it's gonna be at least an hour before we hit the checkpoint." The engine started and the truck rolled over the bodies and turned onto the other road. Jason suddenly felt nauseous.
"So, how come you're the only one from your group to return to base?" Jay had a suspicious look in his eyes. "Hey, man. Don't get any ideas. Rick sent me here. Right after he almost let Michael die." "Shit, Mikey? That coward was supposed to be on scout duty. Don't tell me he was swiping stuff again," Jay said as he stuffed some chewing tobacco in his mouth. Jason nodded. "Well, serves him right, the little rat bastard. Fucker stole my last can of dip."
Once the truck reached the border of the city and was out on the open road, the warmth that the fire had brought now was gone, leaving all the men shivering and cold. Jason looked back and saw the flames coming off of the buildings, the smoke pouring into the air in masses. It was the only light source for miles. The rest of the forest was dark, and he didn't like it one bit. Just as Klipspringer had said, it took almost an hour to reach the checkpoint, a small town south of the city.
They used the gas station there frequently when going back and forth between the city and the base. Klipspringer brought the truck to a stop and hopped out onto the ground. He walked around the truck and opened the gas cap, walked back around, and disappeared into darkness.
"Hey, wanna play a little trick on Joey?" A guy across from Jason asked. He hadn't asked it to anyone it particular, but no one answered. "Aw, come on, you pussies." He jumped out of the truck bed and walked off in the opposite direction, gun drawn and at the ready. Klipspringer returned with two tanks of gas. He began emptying the contents of one into the truck. Behind him, they could here subtle footsteps. Then, silence. Klipspringer finished off the tank and handed another guy the extra gas.
They all jumped when they heard the gun go off.
Once, twice, many times rapid fire. "What the hell!" Jason heard the man scream.
Jay quickly jumped out of the truck bed, carrying a flashlight. Jason and the other men followed.
The town they'd used as a checkpoint hadn't been infested with zombies before. The few that were left had been destroyed when they first decided to make it an official midway. But now, even with the dim light of the flashlights, they could see there was more than just a few. Hundreds. All were waiting across the road. Had they sensed them already? Or had they been oblivious the whole time? Jason hoped it had been the latter of the two.
The man who decided to be a prankster turned out to be one of the greenhorns named Phillip. Of course it was the new guys that had to fuck everything up. It always was. He'd walked a good way away from the truck and was now standing by a building. Jason really couldn't tell because it was so dark. He ran with at least three other men, all the while shooting down zombies. Each zombie that fell had three others take its place.
The fact was that there weren't enough men to bring down the huge infestation of the town. Where had they all been before? They'd crossed paths with the town on more than one occasion, and not one time had he seen more than four zombies at once. They could have only been there a couple of days. Jason tried to remember the last group to pass by the city. He ran up beside Jay. "Hey, man. Do you know who was on the last ride from base?"
Jay shot at a zombie with no arms, pegging it right in the head. Congealed blood oozed out the back as it toppled to the ground. Two more leapt out of some nearby bushes, catching him off guard. Jason took both down before they could even open their rotting jaws.
They landed with a thud on top of one another. Jay glanced at Jason with a bemused look on his face. "What do you wanna know that for?" He spit out the tobacco he'd been chewing and continued running. Jason ran up next to him. "Just tell me." All around was chaos. Some guys had gone down and were being eaten alive; others had been caught in crossfire and wounded. Zombies were everywhere. Even though the question seemed out of place, he had to know.
"The last truck had only a couple guys in it, you know, retrieval. Probably bringing back the food and medicine that were found. Also a couple of guys went to get more grenades. Joey, Paul, Simon, and Rick went."
Jason stopped running.
Rick.
Rick had sent them on a suicide mission. He must've known the city was overrun with the dead. He'd been through it before any of them. He'd sent them to get rid of as many undead as they could before he himself, Rick the prick, had to return. He'd especially sent Jason, knowing he might die.
"It's been a long night for all. You look tired, Why not catch the next truck back to base and take a rest?"
"Thattaboy."
And Jason had stupidly gone, not even questioning the sudden change in tone. He felt like such an idiot. Jay had already gone ahead, and had taken down at least ten zombies while Jason stood, steaming with anger. Jay was in a death grip by one particularly swollen zombie, and he was using the butt of his gun to smash at its head. He let out a roar as his gun sunk deep into its skull. The gun pushed right through it, out the other side.
"Zombie Kabob, anyone?" He screamed.
He yanked the gun out of the zombie with a wet sucking sound and started to wipe off the bits of flesh and tissue that stuck to it with his shirt. "Jay, we have to get out of here. All of us." Jay finished polishing his weapon and looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Why, Jason? Are you that much of a wimp?" Jason casually walked up to him, grabbed his arm, and held him steady. He meant business.
"Rick set us up. Why do you think you all are going home when all of you came from the same mission? Not all of you guys are injured. So why?" Jay shrugged, or at least tried to, but Jason gripped him harder.
"Doesn't seem like Rick, I guess. Only if you're almost dead do you get to go back to base." Jason nodded and let go of his arm. "Rick isn't telling us something. He sent us out here, knowing we'd all probably die. He's been through the town before. He knows there are too many zombies for just twenty tired guys. Well, I'm not dying. Fuck him, I'm out. You coming with?" Jay considered for a moment.
"Yeah, man. You have a point." Jason nodded as a zombie lurched towards them, carrying someone's arm. Jay killed it effortlessly.
The sounds of guns and screaming had died down, and now all he could see was a couple of guys in a field that were lined up, taking down wave after wave of zombies. They made their way to the only five men who were around.
No, four.
One of them hadn't seen a lone zombie sneak up behind him. It was gruesome.
No one stopped to save him; they all had their hands full with the barrage slowly coming closer. So, the poor man was dragged off into the darkness. His screams only lasted a couple of seconds, and then after a minute he reemerged from the shadows, lurching toward his comrades. Jason and Jay sprinted toward the battle. They passed a burned down building. It had once been a church. Jason wondered what had happened to it in the last three days since he'd seen it. He wondered how all the zombies could suddenly appear in the small town. Jay screamed out to the men. "Over here!" Not one of them looked up from shooting.
As the horde of zombies closed in, the shooting suddenly seemed useless. Then the men were no more. Dead bodies covered them; a pile of rotting meat had taken their place. The screams were muffled by the zombies. Then the undead turned their attentions to Jason and Jay. "We have to split, now," Jason said. they started running in the other direction. Toward the forests edge. The zombies sprinted after them.
Not lumbered, not lurched, but sprinted.
Muscles that couldn't possibly do that, let alone work, were being pumped. Parts of the body that should've rotted off long before clung to each other somehow. Vocal chords that could never be used after death made noises no human could. The zombies were quicker than before, he was sure of it. They darted into the woods, rushing past trees and trying not to trip on roots. They could stop and fight, but it would be foolish.
Two lone guys fighting maybe a hundred zombies. The odds weren't good. Jason found it hard to stay close to Jay and to not lose him, the trees being the big issue in free movement, the dark in sight. They ran until the footsteps behind them faded, and kept running until there was no noise in the forest except for their own ragged breaths. Then they sank to their knees. They sat for a moment, catching their breaths.
"When… I… get…back…I'll fucking kill him…" Jay wheezed. He was talking about Rick, of course. Jason didn't say anything. Instead, he stood up and listened. He thought he had heard a twig snapping somewhere while Jay was cursing Rick.
"Shut up for one second." Jay stopped moving, stopped breathing, it seemed. There was no sound, no rustling of leaves in the wind, no crickets chirping, just silence. Eerie silence. The kind that usually means you're screwed in the movies. Then it happened.
It was almost comical.
Things started falling out of the trees all around them. Just falling, like giant acorns or something. But the trees weren't oaks, and the things falling all around them weren't acorns. They were twitching, emaciated rodents, commonly known as squirrels. Undead squirrels. A lot of them, too. Two of the creatures had landed right on Jay's shoulder. From the sound of things, it wasn't pretty. Jay let out a shrill scream.
"They're biting my ears off!" He batted at them in the dark, sending one flying off and hitting a tree with a squish. Replacing that one were four more, and he went reeling into the forest, the rodents biting and scratching him. Jason used his gun to bat at the creatures that surrounded him. He couldn't really see them, (except, were their eyes glowing?) but he could hear the scurrying feet on the dead leaves littering the forest floor.
He swung his gun and it connected with two bodies, and like a sick game of golf they were sent flying.
"Four!"
Jay was out somewhere in the forest, somewhere to his right, screaming and running into trees. His screams died down as he went deeper into the forest, blinded by pain and shock. Then there was silence again as the rodents gathered around him. They didn't make a sound. In the streaks of moonlight spilling through the treetops, he could see their tails twitching. In his mind he saw them all jumping as one onto his body, scraping and clawing his flesh, stripping his bones. That just made him pissed. "I'm not going to be taken down by squirrels. Fuck that!" He lifted his boots and crushed some under his feet.
The bones didn't crunch, more like their bodies just caved in. Several ran towards him, only to be met with the same fate. He continued the small-scale massacre until only one was left, but out of sight. He was sweating and covered in squirrel blood as he glanced around for the last one. He could hear it scurrying above him.
Then like a stone it dropped, dropped right onto his head. He screamed and yanked it off, but not before some sort of black fluid gushed out of its side. He gave the squirming thing in his hand a hard squeeze as its intestines and fluids ran out of its mouth onto the ground, flattening it out.
It reminded him of squeezing a tube of toothpaste.
Then, when it was over, he threw up. After a few dry heaves, he got back up on his feet. He knew what he had to do. He was going to kill that asshole Rick if it killed him. Hopefully he wouldn't be killed trying to get there by foot, not by the zombies. He didn't want to go that way. It was a shame, really, that Jay had run off. It would've been nice having someone to talk to.
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"What the hell was that?" Alan whispered hoarsely.
He'd been jumpy since the sun had set, and now was reacting to every subtle sound the forest made. This, to his credit, was a little alarming due to the absolute silence. Lauren felt drained of energy. And she thought teaching was tiring. This had a whole new meaning to the word.
"What I wouldn't kill for a hot bath and a comfy bed," she sighed. Carol, who was leaning against a thick tree trunk, laughed. "Honey, what I wouldn't kill for a good old heat pad and a nice cup of tea." Alan shook his head and crossed his arms.
"You both are being stupid. What we need is a big steak, mashed potatoes, an Uzi, and hey, while we're at it, throw in a free trip to Disneyland. I'm sure Mickey Mouse will greet us. Probably to tear us apart, but hey, my childhood dreams will be realized. That's good enough for me."
Then he said something about women under his breath and turned his back to them. Lauren felt the need to go over there and punch him, but she was adult and she had to control herself. This was no time to act childish, and she told Alan so herself. "Whatever," he mumbled.
Then, somewhere far out in the forest, they heard a scream. A single, blood-curdling, horrifying wail. Alan was instantly by Lauren and Carol's side. "Figured you'd sit by the women, huh?" Carol said mockingly. Alan didn't say anything, but Lauren imagined he was rolling his eyes right about now. The scream lasted a few seconds and died out.
"I just can't take this anymore. We should've stayed in the city and been burned. It would just be easier," Alan groaned.
Lauren slapped him at the back of his head.
"What was that—"
Lauren shushed him. "I thought I heard something."
As they all fell silent, the woods behind them were filled with snapping twigs and rustling leaves. "Holy shit!" Alan whispered, his voice crackling. "What the fuck is that?!" The snapping and rustling continued to come closer. Lauren stood up and drew her gun. Carol and Alan got up and stood behind her, backing away from the noise. "Who's there?" The rustling stopped.
There was a moment of silence, and then, "I won't hurt you. I'm not— not one of those things."
It was a man's voice. Deep, raspy. "Where are you? Show yourself!" It was a dumb question because it was almost pitch black outside. She whispered to Alan, "Open my backpack and turn the flashlight on." The footsteps came closer, slowly. When Alan flicked the flashlight on, the man was standing a few yards in the forest. All they could make out was his outline and eyes. "That's better," he said.
A middle-aged black man walked out of the trees and into the small clearing. He was carrying a woman slung over his shoulders. He had multiple wounds, most of them tiny scratches, but one mean looking gash on his forehead and a swollen lip. He gently set the unconscious woman down and then wiped his sweaty brow, cold as it was. "What's your name and why are you walking around in the forest?" Alan said, trying to sound brave but coming off more or less like a scared kitten.
The black man sat down on the ground and leaned to the side. "My name is Richard. That's Stacey. And we just got served by a town of zombies and an undead dog. Nice to meet ya."
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"What?" Lauren asked. Her face looked utterly horrified in the dim glow of the flashlight.
"You said a town of zombies and an undead dog?"
Richard nodded slowly, looking dazed and not completely there. Carol turned to her. "I didn't know animals could be zombies, too." Lauren shrugged. "Oh yeah. Animals can be zombies. And let me tell you from experience, they're faster than human zombies."
That put everyone's nerves on high alert, especially Alan's. The woman, Stacey, stirred next to Richard and slowly opened her eyes. "Where am I?" She sat up and stared at Richard, who looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "Richard, where are we?" He glanced at her and then at Lauren, Carol, and Alan.
"Right after you crashed you fainted. All the zombies were on our tails so I dragged you into the forest. I think maybe it's been two days, I'm not sure." Stacey slowly studied each of them, and then said, "And who are they?"
Alan stepped up and said, "Don't worry, he just met us, too. I'm Alan."
He stuck his hand out but it was ignored. Lauren and Carol introduced themselves, also. Stacey continued to stare at Richard. "By the way, while we're on the subject, did you scream out there in the woods?" Carol said, finally breaking the awkward silence. Richard shook his head.
"I thought one of you screamed." The color quickly drained from their faces, partly because of the cold weather, and partly because someone had made that noise close by, and whatever had caused that could still be out there, waiting.
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After all the commotion had died down, after they'd all gone to sleep except for Lauren who was taking watch, Carol lay shivering on the cold ground, feeling old. She'd never actually felt old before. When she'd first met Lauren, she was sure she could hold her own against the elements. But she was slowly deteriorating, slowly losing sense and feeling. She rubbed at her numb hands again. She'd told them it was arthritis, but it was something more. She couldn't feel them anymore. And it was slowly spreading up her arms, to her shoulders. She knew because it started with a burning sensation, then the numbing.
You've caught a bug, is all, she told herself. A nasty bug. There's no need to worry.
She suppressed another cough, her throat dry and sore. It must have been because it was so chilly. She'd caught a cold. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself on the ground of the convenience store, a limp zombie covering her. She hadn't been bitten, but could she have been….
No, she wouldn't think of it. And if so, wouldn't she have turned by now? She sat up. She couldn't sleep anyway, so she got up and sat next to Lauren. The young woman turned to her and smiled. She reminded Carol a lot of her own Granddaughter, an independent woman with a good head on her shoulders.
"You know, I sometimes think about why we fight. I mean, what's the point? We all die someday, why not give up?" Lauren suddenly asked.
Carol sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It seems silly now, it seems useless to survive, but we are all driven by an inner voice. Survival instinct has been with us since the beginning of time. We don't know why, but we feel the need to be alive, no matter if it means living out a nightmare in a hellish world. Sometimes I wonder myself why an old crone would want to make it in a world like this. What place do I have? But then, the small voice tells me to keep going, to not lag behind, because that would mean giving up. And I'll be damned if I give up. Never have, and never will. Just promise me something."
Lauren looked up, looked into Carol's eyes. "What?"
"If I succumb, if by some chance of fate, then I want you to promise me—"
"No, I won't do it. I can't." Carol held Lauren's chin and made her look into her eyes. Lauren was crying.
"God has a time and place for all of us, and if I go, then I know it is God's will. Listen to me: If I start to become one, kill me. No matter if I'm still myself. I don't want to die and become one of them. Promise me that. Promise me you won't let that happen. I can feel God calling me. It may be for the best. I'm old, Lauren, and this world isn't for the elderly."
Then Carol got up and went back to her spot, laid down, and went to sleep. Lauren watched her chest slowly rising and falling all night. She watched her until the sun slowly rose into the sky. She watched until she fell asleep.
In the morning, Carol didn't wake up.
As herself, at least.
