Jack got up and gazed at the final unexplored door in the hallway. He doubted that it would be a cache of weapons, food, and wanton women, but he could always dream. Pulling himself up from the floor, he trudged down the hallway and stood before the rickety door. Rust spotted the once shiny brass handle; a small hole in the facing of the door implied someone had kicked it.
Pistol in one hand, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. His other hand quickly moved up to support the pistol as he scanned the room. Light filtered under a garage door and through the windows. The sun cast its yellow rays through the grimy panes of glass, faintly illuminating the room. The angle of the rays showed the sun was low in the sky; its heat was fading along with its light.
Jack rounded the corner in the L-shaped room and was surprised and elated to see a 70's era Ford pickup truck sitting in the parking bay. The truck was a sun-faded red in color with white striping along the sides. Jack tore his eyes away from it and focused on surveying the rest of the room.
Half-empty cardboard boxes littered the area around the parking bay and the doorway. It took all of Jack's willpower not to just hop in the truck, find the keys and speed out of this claustrophobic mausoleum. He had a little time before the sun set and could afford to make sure this room was entirely clear before he made his last run through here for supplies.
Completing his circuit of the room, Jack found no evidence of any "them". He just couldn't bring himself to call them zombies. Zombies were creatures from movies, not real monsters that murdered your friends and family.
Invoking all the good luck charms he could think of, Jack opened the door of the truck. He reached his hand in and moved his hand under the dusty steering column and felt around the dashboard. His grasping fingers found an empty ignition switch. His heart fell just a bit. It was never that easy. He glanced at the upholstered bench seat and saw a small key ring sitting on the passenger side. He grabbed the key ring and was elated to see a small Ford symbol on one of the two keys on the ring. He pressed the Ford key into the ignition and let out a sigh of relief when it slid completely in. He had a ride out of this place. He didn't know where he was going yet, but any place in the open was better than being trapped in this dank oversized coffin.
Pushing the keys into his pants pocket, Jack went back to the hallway and into the back room. Denny still lay in his final resting place on the floor. Flies buzzed around his corpse, and the smell was almost palpable. Jack scraped all of his possessions into the backpack and fled the room.
Trisha picked up the heavy pistol from where it lay next to her husband. He had brought it with them into the basement in case they needed to defend themselves. David taught her how to use it when he first purchased it, but it was a long time since she had actually fired it.
Turning off the light and moving as quietly as she possibly could, Trisha walked up the steps to the basement entrance where a dim sliver of light shown through the bottom crack of the door. She felt around in the dark above the door for the broken hockey stick that was propping it closed. Her hand found the stick and she moved it aside. Unlocking the simple doorknob, she twisted the handle and peeked out the door. She could see clearly into her kitchen.
It was in a horrible state of disarray. Pans littered the floor; utensils were lying haphazardly on the counter and strewn amongst the pots on the floor. A moldy loaf of bread sat next to a pair of bananas that had almost completely decomposed into a puddle of component juices on the counter. She opened the door a little more. She held the weighty pistol in one shaking hand. Light seeped in through the kitchen windows, dimming as it shone through the translucent curtains.
She finally put one foot on the kitchen floor, sliding her foot along the linoleum. There was no sound coming from the house. Nothing was running, there were no shuffling steps to be heard, not even a creak of air conditioning or heating. It was eerie, almost supernatural, like even the house was doing its best to be quiet.
Trisha looked around when she was fully in the kitchen. The light coming through the windows indicated there wasn't much daylight left. She didn't think she could make it alone once it was dark outside. She had to act quickly if she was going to get help.
Trisha walked through the kitchen and into the living room. There, across from the closed front door were the stairs leading up to the second floor. On the stairs was her baby, Michael, his head decimated by a single bullet. She stopped when she was a few yards from the scene of carnage. Fright, rage, and heartbreak surged through her. Steeling herself, she slowly walked towards the front door.
She hadn't noticed it before, but the front door was slightly ajar. There could be one of them in here! A cold sweat swept over her. She whirled around expecting to see a grotesquely blackened cadaver standing over her, but there was nothing there. Just the dust motes in the dying sunlight.
Trisha turned back towards the front door and almost screamed when she saw a black and greenish hand grasping the inner edge of the front door. The rest of the body followed as it pushed its way into the living room. A monstrous parody of a human being, this creature was bloated beyond normal human boundaries. A round abdomen, full of necrotic gasses, preceded the creature into the room.
She gasped as a smell beyond comprehension wafted into her nasal passages. She was barely able to raise the gun with both hands and pulled the trigger. KERACK! The first shot went wide and tore through the reinforced front door, leaving a sizeable hole in it. Trisha stumbled backwards with the force of the pistol's kickback. She bumped into the doorjam leading into the kitchen and the smell became too much. She turned her head and vomited. Gagging and spitting, she wiped her mouth and saw the creature heading towards her.
She took aim with both hands again and pulled the trigger. KERACK! The bullet ripped through the left side of the creature's decaying skull. A dark green viscous fluid splattered from the shot, showering the once clean carpet in putrified gore.
Trisha let out a harsh cry as she bent over once again, vomit and bile streaming from her mouth. The vile-tasting fluid dribbled down her chin and pooled on the carpet bordering the kitchen and the living room. Sinking to her knees, Trisha aimed once more, praying that the gun was fully loaded when David last used it on Michael.
Hands shaking, her aim wandered between dead-on and a complete miss. The creature stood six feet in front of Trisha, its glassy eyes fixated on her. Trisha shut her eyes for a moment and pulled the trigger. KERACK!
The bullet landed just right of center and disintegrated the rotting flesh and bone. There was a wet glopping sound as the contents of its head fell free from their confines. Black slime streamed onto the carpet as it stood there. Moments later, it toppled to the right, landing on the plush carpet. As it fell, its stomach burst open. The contents spilled out, and a visible wave of smell enveloped the two rooms. Maggots squirmed amongst the rotting bounty from the creature. Partially chewed body parts, slime, and decayed flesh covered the floor.
Trisha gagged again, this time there was nothing left to vomit out. She picked herself up, made sure her bag was secure, and headed for the front door again. She knew that she didn't have much time, those three gunshots would have attracted the attention of whatever else was outside her house.
KERACK! A pause. KERACK! A pause. KERACK! Three gunshots in a row. Jack was a hunter when he was much younger and knew that was the signal for help. Someone out there needed help.
Jack finished scraping everything into his backpack and ran through the hallway into the garage area. He hopped into the open door of the truck and looked for a garage door opener. It was clipped to the passenger side visor.
He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Closing the truck door, he grabbed the pistol and checked to make sure it was ready to go. Safety off, and a live one in the chamber. Jack jabbed the button on the garage door opener and shifted the truck into reverse.
Trisha stumbled into the street, clutching her bag and the pistol. At least 15 of the creatures were wandering towards her house. She looked around for some sign of a living person, but there was none.
Unbidden tears began to flow, she was sure she was going to die here, right in front of her home. Then she heard the sound of an engine coming to life. She gasped and started to run towards the sound.
Jack hammered the accelerator down as he shifted into reverse. Four of the creatures stood outside the garage bay, he watched in the rearview mirror as they disappeared beneath the back bumper and the tires of the truck. The steering wheel bucked beneath his hands as the creatures fell underneath the tires.
As soon as he was clear of the garage bay, he spun the wheel to the right, whipping the front end of the truck towards the alley and the empty lot. Jack shifted back into drive and hit the accelerator again. The truck jumped and took off across the alleyway and into the empty lot.
Steering to avoid the grasping hands and dead stares of the monsters in the lot, Jack drove towards where the nearest residence he could see. The truck bounced and heaved across the lot, shuddering when it came back into contact with the ground. It took all of Jack's strength to keep the truck from spinning around or running into the living dead that littered the area.
Trisha heard an engine racing, its sound getting closer. She started waving her hands in the air, even though she couldn't see the vehicle yet. She moved as quickly as she could, yelling and waving, sidestepping the creatures that were in her path.
Jack saw two white hands above the heads of the monsters ahead of him. They looked like they were waving back and forth. That had to be whoever was in trouble. And if they weren't in trouble before, they would be in just a few minutes. Hordes of the monsters were heading for the unsuspecting survivor. Jack shifted the truck into a lower gear; he was going to need the power. There was a crowd of undead between him and whomever he was rescuing.
Stamping hard on the pedal, Jack hit the edge of the crowd. Bodies flew from his path as the ton of steel and gas plowed through them. Jack kept the pedal pressed, powering through the crowd like he was trying to drive through a stream.
One arm smashed through the window of the truck, grasping at Jack's arm. Jack looked into the face of the creature. Its black eyes didn't register anything human; the desiccated face only barely recognizable as once belonging to the same species as Jack. Jack raised the .38 and pulled the trigger. The point blank shot blew the top of its head off and the corpse fell backwards.
Trisha saw a corpse fly through the air and land five feet from her. When it landed, it disintegrated, the bones of the creature just fell apart and it became a greasy slick on the sidewalk. Trisha noticed that she was completely surrounded now. She was so intent before on finding the engine that she didn't notice how many of the things had appeared. Trisha backed up against the fence behind her, her hands dropping to her sides. She wasn't going to make it, there were too many of them.
Jack broke through the crowd and saw the first live person he'd seen in days. She was a frumpy housewife, dressed in a black and white floral print dress. Her hair was cut in a bob but it was unkempt and matted. Her back was against a small garden fence; her eyes were stuck on the group of creatures advancing towards her. Jack saw three more of the undead coming from behind her. She didn't even know they were there.
Jack stomped on the brake, fifteen feet from her. He opened the door and stood on the inside ledge of the truck. He leveled his pistol at the closest of the three creatures shambling up from behind her and fired.
A clean shot, the creature fell backwards like a domino. Jack aimed again. The second round found its mark and the creature toppled. Hoping his last shot was as good as the first two; Jack targeted the third creature behind the woman. BLAM! A glancing shot, but it was enough, the creature lost a precious second while it recovered.
"Get in!" Jack shouted and waved at the woman.
Her eyes slid over to Jack. The creatures were mere feet in front of her now. She looked again at them and ran. Her legs obeyed a primal need to flee and she crossed the ground to the truck almost instantaneously. She squeezed past Jack and threw herself into the passenger seat.
Jack sat back down on the seat, slammed the door and accelerated forward. He dodged through yards and avoided most contact with the creatures in front of them.
Jack finally stopped the truck when they reached an open space where they could see in all directions. Not a single thing moved around them.
Jack turned to his companion. "Hi, my name is Jack."
Trisha looked at the man in front of her. His clothing was torn and his face was grimy. She imagined she looked very similar. She extended her now steady hand. "Hi, my name is Trisha. It's nice to meet you."
THE END