The Man from Riverside - Chapter 3
Dennis and Officer Coleman stood by the side of the patrol car for some time, absorbing recent events and trying to catch their breath. Dennis looked at Tim hesitantly.
"You wouldn't have any rounds for this would you?" He asked, holding up his empty gun.
"Beretta? No, not with me. I only got a box of revolver rounds and a handful of shotgun shells," he looked into the back of the car, "But no shotgun; don't know where it's gone."
Dennis nodded and the two men silently stood by the car, breathing the cold, moist air that smelled of algae and burnt gunpowder. Both men were startled by the sudden crackling of the CB radio in the car and the soothing female voice that followed.
"Officer Coleman? Come in. Gunfire was heard in your vicinity, please report. Over."
The young officer sighed and scratched at his head, messing up his blonde hair. He hesitantly sat inside the car and began looking for the radio again. Dennis looked at the bloodied police baton still in his hand and tossed it to the ground. He looked around, the fog had thinned a bit and the brown pickup truck was just visible down the road. Leaving the officer to fumbling through his car, Dennis trudged towards his little sedan, tucking his Beretta into his belt, clearly visible but easier to get to. As he got closer to the pickup, he could see the passenger door had been left open and the front windscreen was shattered, probably shot through during the attack.
Dennis couldn't help but think about what had happened. Were they really zombies? Zombies like in the movies? They really didn't look dead, kinda pale, but not dead, they also ran, zombies don't run and you didn't have to shoot them in the head to kill them either. He recalled all those zombie games he'd seen his son playing, overly violent but he didn't care, his wife had a different opinion though. Though, all those games seemed a little to real now; he decided to keep an eye on the corpses just in case they started moving again.
He approached the pickup and looked inside. It was old, but kept quite clean. He opened the driver's door and got in, looking through the car for anything interesting or useful. He didn't know why he was doing this exactly, but to be honest, he didn't really want to do nothing either. He rifled through the glove box but found nothing more than old cassettes and a small knife. He looked behind the seats and found some rope, blankets and a cardboard box. He pulled out the box and opened it; finding at least a dozen shotgun shells inside. He emptied the contents into his jacket pockets and got out of the pickup, shutting the door behind him.
He walked over to his car and saw that one of the tires had been shot through by a stray bullet. He swore to himself and opened the trunk with his keys; an assortment of office stationary spilled out onto the road. His boxes had been tossed around all over the place, spilling their contents and burying what he wanted. He dug through the piles of stationary to find a small briefcase, which he pulled out and opened. Inside was an assortment of papers and pens, but tucked into a pocket was what he was seeking most of all; a king sized Mars bar. He opened it, and put it in his mouth, tasting sweet chocolate while he closed his briefcase and threw it back into the car and closed the trunk.
He heard rustling in the trees behind him. Dennis ducked down behind the car and squinted through the darkness, taking a bite of his Mars bar and carefully wrapping it back up in the wrapper, putting it in his pocket. He could make out a moving figure wandering through the trees towards him. Dennis snuck around quietly to the front of the car, keeping his gaze fixed on the shambling figure. Slowly, the figure wandered out of the trees onto the road and Dennis could see it clearly in the moonlight. A woman, grey in the face and covered in blood not likely her own. Dennis watched carefully as she wandered around aimlessly, admiring how much they behaved like zombies. Maybe it was true. Maybe it was a zombie apocalypse, but they certainly didn't act like any zombies he'd ever seen, they still seemed human in some way.
Dennis began to back off slowly, trying to not draw attention to himself. Luckily for him the zombie had turned around; Dennis decided to start calling them zombies. Suddenly, Coleman's voice boomed over the microphone.
"Hey! Come back here Dennis, the sheriff wants to see you."
Dennis almost went to shout at him to be quiet, but held his tongue. The noise had clearly caught the zombie's attention, as she spun around and immediately ran towards town, as did another zombie that appeared out of the trees. Dennis watched as they disappeared into the thick fog, followed by sound three gunshots. Dennis began to jog slowly back towards the officer, trying not to get himself mistaken as one of them.
"Hey! I'm coming back, don't shoot," yelled Dennis as loud as possible.
As he continued his slow jog, at the last second he saw a zombie running at him from the right. Dennis, unarmed and defenceless, turned and swung his fist, connecting with the woman's head. She screamed violently and toppled over, but she was back on her feet in no time. Dennis went for a stomach blow, but he was not one for fist fighting, and he caught her in the side of the ribcage. He groaned in pain from hitting bone and the woman grabbed his jacket and pushed into him. She was too small to push him over, but she reached her neck up, rearing her disfigured and blood stained teeth, trying to bite his shoulder. Dennis shouted for help as loud as he could, hoping Coleman could hear him. Out of the corner of his eye, Dennis saw another zombie running at him, this one a larger male who could easily take him down. Dennis began to panic and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, tossing her with all his strength towards the male. She tripped and fell, taking out the legs of the huge man and leaving them both sprawled on the floor. Dennis just ran; as fast as he could go. He saw the patrol car and Coleman standing next to it, gun raised.
"Don't shoot! They're after me!"
Dennis turned and looked back and saw the two zombies getting up and running after him. Dennis just ran as fast as he could towards the patrol car, and reached down and grabbed the nightstick from the ground. Coleman fired his last two shots, hitting both zombies square in the upper torso, killing them instantly. Coleman immediately went to reload his weapon, glancing over to Dennis, he asked,
"Are you alright? What were you doing over there?"
Dennis tried to catch his breath, "Getting some stuff out of my car, and I found some shotgun shells in the other guy's pickup"
"Well, go grab his shotgun, we could use another weapon"
Dennis nodded in agreement and walked over to the man's bloodied corpse. He cringed at the man's frozen face of pain and horror, his body covered in his own blood. Dennis reached inside the man's pockets and found his wallet. As he went through it, he saw a picture of an old couple, probably his parents; surprisingly, there wasn't any picture of anyone who might be his wife or kids. He looked down at the man's hands, one of which was missing a few fingers, bitten off in the attack, but he couldn't see a wedding ring. He pulled out his driver's licence and looked at it for a while.
"Franks, Robert," he muttered quietly, "I'm so sorry Robert."
He put the licence back in the wallet and placed the wallet on the man's chest. He picked up the shotgun and examined it carefully. The old shotgun had fallen far enough away to avoid getting covered in blood, but it seemed to be really old. Dennis hoped it would take the shells he had found. He walked back over to the officer who was collecting bullets off the road and putting them back in the box. Coleman looked up and beamed widely at the sight of the shotgun; ducking into his car and pulled out his box of shotgun shells.
"Here; let me have a look," Coleman beckoned for the shotgun eagerly.
"There you go," Dennis tossed the weapon at him, Coleman catching it professionally.
"I'll show you how to use it."
He immediately drew the handle back, realizing the gun was empty he pushed a shell into the chamber from below.
"A very impressive Remington this one," Coleman stated excitedly, "I wonder…"
After pushing another two shells into the weapon; he got a fourth shell and carefully tried to push it in, sliding it in easily.
"Sweet! 5 rounds. This my friend, is a classic shotgun"
"Bit of a fan, eh?" Dennis asked casually.
Coleman laughed, "Yeah. Bit of a farm boy slash gun nut. That's why I have this," he tapped the revolver sitting in his holster; "It's not exactly police issue."
Dennis chuckled slightly in agreement and looked towards town. He could see the glow of headlights slowly getting closer and squinted to see who it was. Coleman also turned to look, pointing it out to Dennis.
"That'll be the sheriff for you."
Slowly, the sheriff's vehicle pulled up. It wasn't much different from the other patrol car, except it had 'Sheriff' written on the side of it. Dennis could make out two officers in the front seat, and as the vehicle pulled up right next to Coleman's car they both got out, guns draw. Dennis realized they could see his Beretta in his belt.
"Put the weapon on the ground," barked the sheriff.
The sheriff was a well built man standing at least 6 feet tall, his brown uniform showing he was quite fit and his hat hiding his hair away. He also had a revolver, same as Coleman. The other was a woman, a little bit shorter than the sheriff, and armed with standard police issue shotgun, her long black hair, tied back in a ponytail, was blowing gently in the breeze.
"I said drop it!"
Coleman stepped in, "Hey! He's ok, just ease up a bit."
Coleman reached over and took Dennis' empty weapon from his belt and drew the slide out in front of the Sheriff.
"It's empty."
Coleman gave the weapon back to Dennis who decided to put it in his jacket pocket. The sheriff relaxed a little and holstered his weapon, the woman, however, continued to keep her shotgun aimed. The sheriff walked over and grabbed Dennis, throwing him against the side of the car. Dennis huffed in surprise and pain as the sheriff handcuffed his hands behind his back and pulled him off the car.
"I need you to come down to the station. Tim!" Coleman stood more or less at attention, "Hold your post here and try to follow orders next time."
"Yes, sheriff."
The sheriff dragged Dennis to his patrol car and opened the back door. He didn't shove Dennis in; he just held it open and waited for Dennis to get in himself. Dennis was surprised at the sheriff's sudden pleasantness, and shuffled himself into the back seat. Most of his previous encounters with the back of police cars involved getting shoved in head first or even smacked in the head on the door frame. The door shut gently behind him and Dennis watched the sheriff walk over and talk to the young officer. Their words were only a muffle from inside the car, but the woman got into the passenger seat and put the shotgun on the hangers on the metal grill separating the front seat from the back. Dennis went to introduce himself, but decided not too when the woman turned to glare at him. Her piercing blue eyes gave Dennis chills.
After a quick chat with Officer Coleman, the sheriff walked back over and got into the car. He turned to face Dennis and spoke quietly.
"I'm Sheriff Michael Kingston and this is my wife, Deputy Kate Kingston. I'm really sorry about this my good man, but I'm going to have to take you to the station for some questioning." He turned back and started the car, the engine roaring into life. "Do you have much of an idea of what's going on?"
Dennis shook his head and then realized that he wouldn't have seen it.
"No, sorry. Only what I've had to deal with in the last hour."
The sheriff caught sight of his wife glaring at her husband.
"Not now Katie. We'll talk about this later."
With that, he put the car into reverse and did a sharp U-turn. As they cruised through the town, Dennis just lay back and relaxed, grateful for the opportunity to rest. He lay sideways on the seat, trying to get comfortable with his hands handcuffed behind his back. Eventually he managed to get comfortable with his head resting on the side of the door. As he lay, he looked down and noticed his white shirt was covered in blood from where the zombie grabbed him.
"Fuck!"
Kate turned to look at him sharply while the sheriff looked up at his rear mirror to see what was going on. Dennis realized that she was glaring at him again.
"My shirt is ruined!" Dennis cried angrily.
She smirked slightly and turned her attention back to outside. Dennis sat in the back grumbling quietly, still fuming about his ruined shirt.