Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Page 14

  Regg grins. “That’s a great idea,” he agrees as he pulls a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket and begins jotting down plans. “We’d need one driver, and one shooter in each vehicle,” he mumbles as he scribbles notes. “Some of you could stay here and shoot from the roof, like those people are doing.” Regg turns towards us and takes a deep breath. “I need some volunteers to ride in the trucks,” he asks. Ryan, Silas, and I automatically put up our hands. I want to help.

  “No way,” my dad says, and I frown at him.

  “It’s just as dangerous to be here as in a vehicle,” I point out, but he isn’t going to hear it.

  “I’ll go,” Barry volunteers, surprising us all.

  “You aren’t going to drive away are you?” Regg asks bluntly, and Barry flushes with anger.

  “I won’t. I have nowhere else to go either. I need to fight, same as ya’ll,” Barry defends, and Regg nods.

  “Okay then. We will need our best shooters out there. Barry, you can drive the first truck, and I’ll shoot,” Regg says, and he isn’t bragging. The Sergeant is military and has the training to prove it, he’s even a little bit better shot than Silas.

  “Thanks man. I won’t let you down,” Barry promises, and Regg gives him the nod.

  “Silas,” Regg says, and my breath stills in my chest. “You’re our next best shooter. Are you willing to go out there?”

  Silas doesn’t even hesitate before nodding.

  “I can go too,” Ryan volunteers, but Regg shakes his head.

  “You’re too good. Your talents would be wasted driving. We are still going to need good people here too.” Regg turns and looks at my Dad. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you kind of suck at shooting. Would you be willing to drive Silas?” I hear my mom take a shaky breath, but my dad doesn’t hesitate before agreeing.

  “I will,” he promises, and Regg dips his head in thanks.

  “That leaves Ryan, Jane, and Megan here to shoot from the roof.” He looks over at Abby and my mom. “Unless you two can shoot?” Abby and my mom shake their heads.

  “That needs to change,” Regg snaps at them both, and I feel a little swell of pride at being acknowledged as useful. “For now, they can show you how to reload,” Regg says, looking uber stressed out.

  “I think we need to barricade the stairs before we leave,” Silas suggests, and Regg nods.

  “That’s good thinking. I’m not sure if those fuckers can climb the stairs or not, but if they do get inside we don’t want them getting upstairs,” Regg’s words bring a vivid image to mind of zombies streaming through the cabin.

  “Let’s divide up the ammo and get moving,” Silas says, and I rush into his arms and hug him so tightly his back pops a little. I hadn’t realized we would be separated. Silas hugs me briefly, probably feeling awkward with the PDA, but he does plant a quick kiss on my lips. “It’ll be okay, Blondie, you’ll see,” he reassures me as he shoulders his beloved AR-15.

  I look up and see Ryan watching us with a miserable look on his face, though he smiles when he sees me looking and turns away quickly. I feel a little stab of guilt, but I ruthlessly suppress it. This could be the last time I ever get to see Silas. I can’t send him out there without knowing that I care about him.

  We all stand at the top of the stairs and watch Silas, Barry, Regg, and my dad stack a ton of stuff in front of the stairs. They slide the couch across the bottom of the stairs and then launch the love seat over the top so it creates a wall. The zombies will have difficulty climbing over. Next they decide to use the table too, and they slide it over top, almost like a lid of sorts, and it hangs over the railings covering the first six feet of the stairs, creating a smooth surface that won’t grant the clumsy zombies any traction, if they do manage to get over the couches.

  “That should be good,” my dad says, scratching his head as he stares at their handy work, and I know he is second guessing if he’s doing enough to protect us. “You guys need to push stuff across the top of the stairs too—that couch from Barry’s room is a good one,” he reminds us, and I nod, tears welling up in my eyes. We already said our goodbyes before they barricaded us up here, but now that the time has actually come, I’m finding it really hard to let go.

  “I’ll lock the door behind us, don’t worry about that,” Silas says, looking up at me, and I can’t believe those are the last words he wants to leave me with—typical Silas. I watch them all move as one towards the door. Regg peeks out the window, and Silas turns around and surprises the hell out of me by blowing me a kiss. I’m stunned, but I still manage to pretend to catch it and blow one back at him. It’s such a small gesture, but its huge coming from Silas. My knees go weak, and my heart gets heavy as I watch them all slip out the door, and then we’re all just standing around staring at an empty doorway.

  I run into the third bedroom and press my nose to the glass, watching with my breath held while the four of them move out into the open, drawing the attention of several zombies. They take them down quickly, and while everyone else runs for the trucks, Silas goes the opposite direction. “What is he doing?” I cry out as I see him heading for the trailer with three zombies on his tail.

  “He’s going for the extra ammo we keep under the bed,” Ryan says softly, and I hadn’t realized he was beside me. Silas reaches the trailer and jumps in, slamming the door shut behind him, and the three howling zombies at the door are soon joined by a fourth.

  “For Christ sake,” I mutter as I almost rip the window off its hinges getting it open. I aim my gun out the window, but the angle is awkward.

  “Let me do it,” Megan snaps, slapping my hand away like a naughty child. I withdraw without complaint since Megan is the better shot, and I would probably throw myself out this window headfirst if I accidentally shot Silas.

  Megan takes them out with four neat shots to the head, and only after the last one falls does Silas emerge, lugging a heavy, black canvas bag. I watch him jump safely into the truck with my dad, and I sag against the window in relief. Being in the truck doesn’t mean he will be completely safe, but as long as they don’t get trapped in the middle of the horde, they are probably safer than any of us.

  I turn around and run down the hall, back to the bedroom I share with the other girls. “They made it,” I tell my mom breathlessly, and she takes a big, deep breath. We all turn to watch out the window as the trucks come into view, accelerating towards the cabin with the neighbors stranded on the roof. The horns start honking like crazy to get the attention of the zombies, and I nearly scream when the crowd turns towards the vehicles with a hungry moan.

  “The loud pop of the AR-15 cuts through the other noise. Silas has obviously taken the silencer off to catch the attention of the zombies. I really hope they have earplugs because the noise must be deafening in the truck. Zombies begin to fall like Moses parting the Sea. I’m sure they can’t all be head shots, but the body count is already building. Regg joins in, and the men on the roof take a moment to cheer, jumping up and down and waving their hands before they get back to shooting. I’m not sure how much ammo they have left after last night though.

  “We can’t just stand here and do nothing,” I bellow at the others, and Abby and I surge to our feet and lead everyone to our secret window that leads out onto the roof. My mom stays inside with Sunny, but Abby comes out with us, and I’m proud of her. I show her how to reload clips, and she gets the hang of it much more quickly than I did at first.

  I pull my gun from my hip and check the magazine, and then I do one of the top five craziest things I’ve ever done. I open my mouth and start screaming. Hundreds of heads snap around, searching for the source of the noise. Some head towards our cabin, some stay with the neighbors, and the rest head in the direction of the trucks. Even split into thirds, it’s a terrifying number of zombies that start marching towards us.

  When the zombies lumber closer, bringing with them the horrible smell of putrid, rotting flesh, I pull my bandana up over my nose and ai
m carefully at the closest one. Before I can squeeze the trigger, its head explodes and I look over at Megan.

  “I was going to take that one,” I yell to be heard over the dead, and she shrugs.

  “Maybe we should each take a section,” she suggests, and I nod.

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll take the right, you take the left, and Ryan can take the middle,” I shout, and the other two nod to show they understand—the closer the dead get, the louder the noise.

  I aim for another zombie, making sure I take a deep breath to help calm myself before I squeeze the trigger, and I actually make the shot! I’m getting a lot better at shooting under pressure.

  I’m thrilled with my kill shot, but I don’t let myself celebrate for too long. The best way to kill more zombies is to think less and shoot more. I’m far from a great shot, but maybe with all the walking targets, my skill level will improve, so I might as well take the opportunity to brush up now. Later, I can pray that I never get this kind of chance at target practice again!

  “Nice shot,” Megan calls out when I hit my forth zombie in a row and they fall to the ground to be trampled underneath the feet of all the others. When the zombies get close, it’s like a shockwave hitting the house. I actually feel it shudder underneath the force of their weight, and I get a sick feeling in my tummy, imagining myself pitching forward off this roof into the crowd below.

  “Not today,” I mutter as I creep closer to the end of the roof and start adding to my body count. Zombie kids are usually the worst to kill, but today I don’t hesitate or notice things like skin color, gender, or the age of those I take down. We are fighting for our lives and our land, and we can’t stop until every last one of them is dead.

  I’m not sure how many times I reload my clip, I’ve lost count, but the next time I go to slap a new magazine in, I burn myself on the barrel. I let out a yelp of pain, causing Ryan and Megan to glance at me sharply.

  “I’m okay,” I tell them. “I just burnt myself. I need to switch out my gun.” Ryan gives me a sympathetic look, but Megan frowns.

  “You should’ve done that before now,” she corrects me, and I give her a curt nod, obviously. This life has a harsh learning curve, and I have the burnt hand to prove it. Megan hands me a bottle of water. I dump a little out over my singed fingers and take a long drink from the rest. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pain, but I don’t have time to worry about that right now. Abby hands me a fresh Glock, and I snap the clip in and try to ignore the sting of the burn. The coolness of the gun actually gives me a little temporary relief, but the gun soon warms under my body heat and I’m back to square one.

  I aim at an enormous zombie who is has to be at least six foot five. It takes two bullets to put him down, and I swallow visibly. It boggles my mind that a guy like that turned into a zombie, while a runty cheerleader like me is still surviving—or trying to.

  My eye is drawn to the second pickup. I’m not sure why at first, but I soon realize I’m staring at it because it’s stopped and it hasn’t moved in a while.

  I put my gun down and squint to try and see what’s going on. “Do you think they’re okay?” I ask, pointing to the older blue pickup parked near the lake. There is an enormous group of zombies approaching, and Silas is rapidly firing out the window. He no longer has his AR, though; he’s probably much smarter than me and is letting the barrel cool down.

  Megan and Ryan stop shooting and stare out as well, shading their eyes against the sun. We can’t hear much over the moans of the dead, but something doesn’t seem right. I gasp when I see both truck doors get thrown open, and Silas and my dad get out of the truck.

  “What in the hell are they doing?” Megan bursts out, but I have no idea either.

  I watch them shoot the closest zombies and take them down, and then they each pick up a handle of the black bag and start running for their lives. They are leaving the truck! “The truck must have broken down and stalled,” Ryan says, and we all look sick at the thought. Why in the hell did my dad have to pick that old beater when there are lots of shiny new vehicles, free of problems? I can’t help thinking, and then instantly feel guilty—it’s too much like victim shaming.

  Human beings have no problem outrunning the dead, at least for a little while, but there are so many zombies out there right now. I feel my muscles tighten, like I need to spring into action and do something to help. I can’t just be a spectator to their deaths. I turn towards the window, not sure exactly what I’m going to do, but it most likely involves getting into the remaining car and finding some way through that crowd to rescue them.

  Ryan all but tackles me from behind. “Let go of me,” I scream at him, trying to twist out of his grip, but he refuses to let go.

  “Don’t be stupid, Jane,” he bellows in my ear. “You can’t go out there now; this entire house is surrounded by the dead. You wouldn’t make it two steps off the porch.” I stop fighting him and sink down to my knees as a feeling of utter uselessness pushes down on me. It seems impossible that there is nothing I can do to help. I turn back to watch the horrific scene unfold in front of me—I know Ryan wants to tell me not to look, but he knows me better than that.

  I look over at the truck with Regg and Barry in it, but they are separated by a sea of death. I doubt either of them even knows what’s happening. I can’t help but wish bitterly that there was some way to get a hold of them and tell them—I haven’t missed my cell phone this much since the beginning when everything first started happening.

  Silas and my dad stop running for a minute, dropping the bag so they can take a rest and shoot some of the closer zombies. I’m not sure how much my dad is contributing to this, but Silas has his AR-15 slung off his back and is using it to punch a considerable hole in the closer zombies.

  They fire until their clips run dry and then they start running again, reloading as they go. “This is crazy,” I shriek as I watch them running through the knee high grass. I doubt they will be able to keep it up for very long.

  Some of the zombies at the cabin have started to notice the easier prey farther afield and are separating from our group. I raise my arms in the air and start screaming until my voice is hoarse and aching. I scream as I start blasting off rounds, and Ryan and Megan do the same, even Abby joins in the screaming. We can’t let this group separate; it will cause too many zombie fronts to attack Silas and my dad.

  We aim at the zombies with their backs to us, leaving, but some of them manage to slip away and get out of range before we can take them down. There are just too many zombies here. I can’t believe we thought we could fight all of them and survive. We were idiots.

  I don’t hear my mom yelling at me over the screams, gunshots, and zombies until she actually climbs out the window and taps me on the shoulder. I jump about a foot in the air and spin with my gun up. She screams and jumps back, and I quickly drop it when I see who it is.

  “Don’t sneak up on me like that...” I start to lecture her, but then I pause. Her face is pale and full of tears, and she hasn’t even looked past my shoulder yet and seen what’s going on with Silas and my dad. I get the sinking feeling that something else is going on, and I know I’m not going to like it.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her as she squeezes my hand between her own wildly shaking fingers. It’s my burnt hand, but I don’t complain.

  “Zombies,” she moans in terror. “They got inside.” My heart drops so low, I doubt it’s even in my feet anymore. It’s probably fallen off this roof and into the crowd below.

  “What?” I ask dumbly, not wanting to accept what she’s saying.

  “They smashed down the front door,” Mom reiterates. “They got inside the cabin.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My mouth goes dry, my knees start to shake, and I feel the most overwhelming urge to break down and throw a temper tantrum. This isn’t fair, and it hasn’t been fair in a really, really long time. We are only human after all, how can we be expected to fight back against flesh eating mo
nsters that don’t even feel pain? I’m not sure if I believe in God or not, but right now I am royally pissed off at Him.

  “Jane?” my mom asks with a look of concern on her face, and I realize that I’m supposed to be the strong one here. She is relying on me not to fall apart, because she can’t help it herself. I try and rally my strength back around me, and I give her a feeble smile. I’m not sure it’s enough, but it’s all I have.

  I look back over my shoulder and see that Silas and my dad are still running for their lives. The zombies are closing in, and I feel a stab to my heart so sharp that it takes my breath away. There is nothing I can do to help them and it’s tearing me apart. I push past my mom and squeeze back through the window. If I can’t help them, maybe I can still help us.

  I can tell right away that she isn’t exaggerating, by the echo of moans coming from down the hallway. I creep forward with my gun up, ready to blast anything that tries to eat me. I pass my bedroom and pause when I see Sunny sitting all alone on her bed, clutching a Barbie doll, and I feel a wave of anger towards my mother. She shouldn’t have left her here all by herself.

  Sunny looks up and sees me. I hold my finger to my lips and motion for her to come towards me quietly. “Hi, Jane,” Sunny whispers as she presses fearfully against my side.

  “Hey, Sunny Bunny,” I whisper back, crouching down so that we are eye to eye. “I need you to be very quiet, and brave, okay?” I ask, and slowly she nods her head. I point to the window at the end of the hall. “You need to go out that window and be with everyone else,” I say, even though I’m not sure if it’s the best option, not that staying in a house full of zombies is a good idea either.

  Sunny shakes her head, her eyes luminous with tears. “I’m scared,” she admits, and I give her a fierce hug.