Ch. 27
"You can? How?" I asked.
"Some of my survivors are employees," Kevin explained, "and they have cars in the restraunt's parking lot. They just never used them because they were trapped and didn't know where to go."
That was better than I expected. We could everyone out of here in one trip.
"How many zombies are there?"
"None. I took care of them," he laughed.
I glanced at Kelly. She was smiling. I guess she never though she would hear him ever again.
I put the radio to my mouth and said, "can you get here with a couple of cars? We're going to need all the transportation we can get."
"No problem. We'll leave right now."
"Okay. See you in a few," I said and put the radio back in my shirt. I turned to everyone in the room.
"Help is on the way," I announced. Everybody cheered and hugged each other. Kelly grabbed me around the neck, nearly sufficated me. When she let me go, the nurse walked up. Her face had a small hint of an apology but still had an untrusting expression.
"Sorry about before. I learned not to trust anybody in a short amount of time," she explained.
I nodded. "It's alright. You were just looking out for yourself."
The nurse extended her hand. "My name is Sara."
I shook it. "David."
This was a nice moment. I was making new allies and more people would be joining us at the store. Everything was going smoothly so far. I just hoped it stayed that way.
Jake stepped forward. "So what to we do now?"
"Let's go outside. My friend will be here in a few minutes with transportation. We'll wait for him."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Is it safe?"
"Yes. We've barricaded the store to keep the zombies out. But that's were a majority of those creatures are at."
Jake and Sara both exploded. "What?!"
"Don't worry," I said, holding my hands up in defense. "We have a way of getting back inside the store." At least I hoped I did.
They didn't look convinced. Jake had a scowl on his face. Sara pointed a finger in my face. "That's strike one."
She's giving me strikes? "Fine. Whatever floats your boat. Now let's move outside."
I led the way through the stadium. The survivors were talking excitedly with each other. Jake and Kelly were on each side of me.
"So are you sure this place is safe?" Jake questioned me.
"Yes," I sighed. "The entire store has been reinforced so there is no way a zombie can breach it."
He still didn't look convinced but didn't press the issue. I guess a store runned by kids was better than an ice rink with candy bars and soda.
We walked through the doors and into the night. I looked at my watch. The hands indicated that it was a little after nine. If Kevin got here in time, we could be back by nine-thirty.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Kelly.
"How has Kevin been?" she asked. I could see concern in her eyes and the stress on her face. She must have been through a lot.
I sighed. "This whole thing changed him. He's been completely depressed." But then I smiled. "Your the thing that could definitely cheer him up. I know he misses you."
Kelly's eyes glazed over. "Really?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
I was about to check my watch again when I heard Kevin's voice on the radio.
"David!
Are you there?" I thought I heard panic in his message.
I
pulled out the radio. "Yes. What's going on?"
"We attracted some unwanted visitors. This has to be quick."
I had time to think 'what?' when a screech of tires came from the other end of the block. I looked and saw a black sedan pulling swirving in the street towards us. A white cadillac and red pickup soon followed.
"Kevin, what's going on?" I asked into the radio.
But then I got my answer. Soon after the made the turn, a group of zombies rounded the corner. They were running after the cars like a pack of wolves. I could almost hear them screaming from where I was.
"Move it!" I yelled into the radio.
The sedan revved its' engine and braked in front of us. Kevin was behind the wheel.
"All aboard. This train is leaving," he announced. Then he noticed Kelly and his mouth fell open. "Oh, my God."
"Hello, Kevin," Kelly said. She was actually crying. I looked at Kevin and got a shocker. He was crying too.
This was a guy who never cried once in three days of death and horror. Yet, here he was.
They only went out on one date!
"Another time guys," I snapped. I opened the doors of the sedan and got everyone inside. I banged on the door to tell Kevin to get moving. The sedan sped off down the street. Then, moved to the cadillac and rushed people in there too. When that was full, I began to move to the pickup when a voice called out.
"David?"
I
looked at who was behind the wheel. I couldn't believe it.
"Heather?" She was wearing a Burger King uniform that was dirty and blood-crusted. But somehow, she still looked great.
I took a quick glance at who was in the passenger side seat. Shocked again, Charlie was in the car as well. His mouth was open in disbelief. I guess he didn't expect me to be alive and in charge of this mission.
"David, how did-" he began.
"Later. We're in a hurry." I looked back down the street. The zombies would reach us in less than a minute. I closed the door as the parents and their kids got into the cadillac.
The truck was luckily a four-door. I opened the cab and loaded the last of the survivors into the back. One of them was Sara and she looked pissed at the sudden race to get away from the building.
"That's two," she muttered with venom in her voice. Then climbed into the backseat. Despite the situation, I rolled my eyes and climbed into the back of the truck.
"Let's go!" I yelled, banging on the roof.
The truck pulled forward, sputtered, then stopped. I heard the frantic yelling of everybody inside. The engine stuttered as it tried to start.
Why is that things that run on gas never start when I'm around? I asked, looking up at the sky.
I stole a glance behind us and yelped. The group of zombies were less than twenty-feet away. But some of them were faster than others so they were a bit spreaded apart. They were still close enough for me to see their hungry, red eyes in the moonlight.
"Go!" I ordered as I pulled out my handguns. I aimed at the zombie that lead the pack and fired both guns in rapid succession. The first two bullets hit the zombie in its chest. It jerked from the impact, but finally collapsed as the third went right between it's eyes.
That didn't stop the other zombies as they trampled over their comrade. I took aim again and fired again. Three more zombies dropped, but more kept coming. If the truck didn't get started now, we would all be dead.
I felt a sudden vibration under my feet as the truck finally roared to life and pulled slowly ahead; just as I ran out of bullets in my Glock. I holstered it and kept firing with the Berrata, but it wasn't enough. The zombies reached the truck and tried to climb into the cab. The truck finally found some traction and shot forward, nearly taking me over the edge.
Even as the truck sped down the deserted street, three zombies still had a hold of the tailgate. Two males in their thirties and one teenager who looked like the football captain at my high school. I could almost see their desire to feed in their red eyes as the climbed into the bed of the truck. Black-crusted blood clung to their clothes. Pieces of dried flesh hung from their faces. And even worse, the stench of death was coming strong from them. I gagged and aimed the Beratta at the teen's head.
The gun clicked empty.
"Shit," I cursed. I ejected the empty magazine and tried to load a new one when the teen grabbed my left arm. He tried to pull it towards his maggot-infested mouth. The gun fell from my hands. Without a weapon, I reacted on instinct by swinging my right fist into the jaw of the zombie. I heard and felt the jawbone crack as the zombie backed away from the impact. He regained his footing, but his jaw hung limply from his face.
The zombie groaned and tried again. This signaled the other two to attack as well. I kicked one of the guy's in his stomach. The wobbling truck caused him to stagger and fall over the side. His body slammed into the pavement and rolled into the gutter. I almost lost my balance and fell with him.
Then the teen tried again to eat my arm. This time, he succeded in getting my arm his mouth. But with a broken jaw, his teeth didn't penetrate my leather jacket.
I shoved him away just as the other zombie charged forward. Quick as sound, I pulled out the steel baton and extended it. I swung low to his left knee joint. The joint buckled under impact and the fell to his knees. Then, with all my strength, I swung it upward into the zombie's head. The baton connected with metal clang and the zombie was lifted off his feet. He flew over the tailgate and into the pavement. I thought I heard a crack as his neck broke.
Two done, one to go.
The teen was all that was left. Seeing his comrades die didn't stop his motive to feed. He rushed at me again. I kicked him in the stomach and he staggered to the tailgate. And it was at that moment I remembered my back-up pistol. Cursing myself, I pulled it out of my belt. I aimed it at the teen zombie's head.
Suddenly, with a screech of tires, the truck swerved left down the street the other cars turned on. The sudden turn made me lose my balance and the momentum carried me and the zombie over the side of the truck. It felt like forever until I finally hit the pavement on my left side. I heard a crack as my shoulder hit the ground. Pain shot up through my arm and I almost blacked out. The force of the fall rolled me about a dozen yards.
When I opened my watery eyes, I saw the red pickup floored it down the street. Everybody inside didn't know I fell out.
I raised my self into the to a sitting position. The pain in my arm doubled as I tried to push myself up. I didn't dare move it for fear of it being broken. The teen facedown on the pavement ten feet away from me. He wasn't moving.
It was a challenge to stand up. The impact knocked me silly and my equilibrium was out of whack. When I finally did, the cars were out of sight. I reached into my left pocket with my right hand for the radio and tried to pull it out. My hand came up with only broken pieces of plastic and circuit boards. It was the radio that cracked when I hit the pavement. Maybe it wasn't my shoulder wasn't broken, just the radio.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to move my shoulder. There was a loud pop as the bone popped back into its socket. The pain made me fall over, making my eyes water again. It was a couple of minutes before I could stop gritting my teeth and sit up. I took some deep breaths and tried to stand up again. My shoulder worked almost as good as before but the pain was still there.
It took a me a couple of minutes for me to get used to moving my shoulder again. When I did, I looked around. My surroundings were unfamiliar. The street sign read Kings Avenue. I reached for my Beratta and my last clip. My hand felt nothing but air at the holster. Then I remembered that I dropped it in the truck. My bag of weapons was also in the truck.
I was in the middle of a suburb with no radio, my Glock with one full clip, and no clue where I was.
