Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Page 16

  I stand in the doorway and stare in at the gong show that was once our living room. There are zombies milling around everywhere, and it is utter chaos.

  Despite the fact that I’m a fully fleshed, live human being, none of the zombies seem to notice me right away. That will never do.

  I reach out my arm before I lose my nerve, and I pound my fist against the heavy wooden door, drawing the attention of every zombie in the room.

  “Knock, knock mother fuckers,” I yell, unintentionally using a cool line that sounds like it's something off of the movie Die Hard. The zombies turn as one with an awful snap of their jaws, and I spin and jump off the porch, stumbling a little on a rock, but I manage to right myself, and then I’m running for my life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I glance over my shoulder and see that the zombies have taken the bait. They are filtering out of the house like a slow ooze. I quickly turn back around and concentrate on my steps. I don’t want to risk tripping and falling down. It would be too easy to twist my ankle out here, and that would be it. I feel hyper aware of everything. Unlike earlier today, when I was in danger but I was still separated from the zombies by the walls of the house, this is one hundred percent a life or death situation. If I screw up, I will die.

  I’m getting too far ahead of the zombies, and it takes all I have to actually stop running and turn back around. I stop just outside the driveway and wave my arms at them. “Come and get me!” I yell to keep their attention focused on the task at hand.

  The zombies growl with renewed vigor, and I start to see a few of the front zombies fall and not get back up. I glance up at the second floor window and see Ryan and Megan leaning out with their guns jumping as they fire round after round into the crowd below. Over the moans of the dead, I can’t hear the pop of their muzzled pistols, but I can sure see the results—the zombies are dropping like flies. I see Megan and Ryan start motioning towards me, waving their arms with a fury, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. I spin on my heels and am confronted by a huge zombie that’s just lumbered out of somewhere.

  “Aarghhh!” I yell as I raise my gun and fire pointblank into his big open maw. The force of the blast sends him stumbling backwards to the ground, but I didn’t take him out. He’s still twitching, and I realize my shot has ripped off his tongue and harmlessly gone out the back of his mouth. I curl my lip up in disgust at the image before me. Most of his teeth are blown out and some have imbedded on the inside of his cheek. You might think that is the worst part, but the worst is the way his little stump of a tongue is wagging back and forth leaking black goo. I aim my gun a little higher this time and plant the bullet neatly through his forehead while he twitches on the ground.

  I do a three hundred and sixty degree spin to make sure I’m not in any immediate danger. Ryan and Megan have done a pretty good job of keeping the zombies from getting to me, but a few have escaped their firing line. I know they won’t fire on them now for fear of shooting me. I’ll have to take care of them myself.

  My heart pounds like crazy as I line up my shot and miss—damn shaking hands! I try again, and this time I hit the ragged-looking zombie on the left. All I can hear is my pulse hammering in my ears like a freight train rushing by, and I worry for a minute that one of these days my poor heart is going to explode from all the stress.

  I take a deep breath, trying to steady my erratic pulse, and take down the second zombie. They are still streaming out of the door, and I hope that zombies instinctively have a herd mentality and will keep following the leader because I can’t stay here much longer. A few of the zombies from the neighbor’s cabin have caught sight of me and have separated in hopes of an easier meal. It’s too dangerous to let myself get boxed in on two sides—if any more zombies join the party, I will be totally screwed.

  I act on instinct, raise my gun, and shoot a third zombie that’s creeping too close. Then I turn tail and run. I head away from the cover of the trees; it provides too many places for the dead to come lurching out of. So I run towards the lake instead, where it’s wide open. The field is littered with corpses, and I skirt around them, worried some of them might not be completely dead. It’s like a minefield, so I change course again. I don’t want to survive this long just to get bitten by a zombie that’s already been taken out of commission.

  Once I’ve distanced myself enough to get a little bit of a breather, I turn to check out my situation. My first instinct is to run from the six zombies limping towards me across the field from the neighbors’ cabin, and I actually take several steps in the opposite direction before I force myself to stop. It’s everyone’s job to take out the threats, and if I leave them for someone else to deal with, then I’m not doing my job. I grip my pistol so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t turn to dust in my hand, and then I force myself to walk towards them.

  My legs shake with fear, but I have a brief window to accomplish this before the zombies behind me catch up. My steps turn into longer strides, and then I’m jogging. The zombies probably think they’ve won the lottery as I run towards them like a crazy person.

  When I get close enough to see the gory details, I stop and raise my pistol, firing rapidly until it clicks empty. In my fear, I’ve missed two and wasted a lot of bullets, but at this point I don’t care. I just want this to be over. I quickly reload and take down the remaining two. I feel a hand on my shoulder and let loose a girly scream as I spin and come face to face with Silas.

  He pushes my gun down and wraps me in a hug, and my dad is right behind him. “Get in the truck!” Barry yells from the driver’s seat. I look back and see a small group of zombies trailing after the truck. Dad jumps in the backseat and moves over so I can follow him, but I slam the door shut and hop in the very back with Silas. I know Dad won’t be happy about it, but I can’t just sit and be a passenger while Silas does all the work.

  I see my dad frowning at me through the back window, but he doesn’t stop the truck and demand I get inside the cab where it’s safe. “What in the hell are you doing out here?” Silas asks as soon as the truck picks up some speed.

  “They got into the cabin,” I tell him and watch his face take on a look of trepidation. He wants to ask if everyone is okay, but at the same time he dreads the answer. “Everyone is fine, or they were when I left,” I reassure him.

  “So why did you leave?” Silas asks, not connecting the dots at all. I can’t really blame him, I haven’t been making a lot of sense.

  “We were going to shoot them over the railing, but then we didn’t want to clean up the mess afterwards. So we made a plan and they lowered me down the side of the house with a rope and I was the bait to draw the zombies out of the house so Megan and Ryan could shoot them,” I say in a rush. Silas’s face gets angrier the more I talk, so I just stop.

  “Did you seriously risk your life just so you wouldn’t have to clean too much?” he demands, and I frown. When he says it like that, it really does sound stupid. I shrug helplessly. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. We had even been trying to save Silas some work, but he would never consider that a good enough reason.

  “Let’s just finish this up,” I suggest as I raise my gun and take aim at the nearest zombie. I actually make the shot, and I hope seeing how much my skill has improved will make Silas less mad that I did something crazy.

  Silas doesn’t answer me, but he raises his gun, and the loud retort of his pistol makes me want to cringe and cover my ears. I don’t, though, because he would probably just mock me.

  It takes another hour of shooting before we eradicate all the zombies left out in the field. We pull up in front of the cabin, or as close as we can get because we can’t park in the driveway anymore—too many bodies all over the ground. Silas and I jump down from the back of the truck at the same time Regg, Barry, and my dad pile out of the cab.

  “Let’s keep our eyes open,” Regg warns unnecessarily. We already have our guns up and our eyes peeled. I try to step around the bodies, but it isn’t easy
. I think my count of twenty was way off; there has to be at least forty bodies out here.

  “I can’t believe how many of them there are,” I whisper to Silas, and he gives me a sharp nod. He agrees, but he wants me to zip it, at least until we can assess the situation.

  My eye is drawn to the slight play of shadows just inside the door, and I quickly point it out to the rest of the group. “Don’t shoot, it’s just me,” Ryan calls out, and I sag in relief. The house must be clear if they’re wandering around downstairs.

  I follow the others inside, eyeballing the damage. The door jamb is completely wrecked, with splintered wood sticking up everywhere. I don’t mind the splinters so much, except everything is covered in zombie gore. They must’ve poked themselves while they were smashing the door down. I shudder and stay far away from the dangerous pieces of wrecked wood and nails—everything is highly infectious.

  “Is everyone okay?” Silas asks, and Ryan nods as he cranes his neck to check me for damage.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod, and he sags in relief. The blockade is still in place over the stairs, so Ryan must’ve climbed over. I see Megan, Abby, and my mom poke their heads up, and they beam when they see we are all still in one piece. My mom starts pushing the couch out of the way, and Abby and Megan join her. Silas and Regg get to work clearing the bottom of the stairs, and then my mom is downstairs squeezing me half to death. She only releases her python-like grip on me to do the same thing to my dad.

  “I was so worried,” she tells us. I look up and see Sunny creeping down the stairs. I open my arms wide and she comes running, nearly knocking the breath out of me when she hits my ribs hard.

  “I can’t believe we all made it through,” Barry says, and for once Barry and I are on the same page.

  We look around at the destroyed door frame and the disaster that the zombies left behind in the cabin. Everything is knocked off of everywhere and most everything else is covered in a thin layer of goo. “Where in the hell do we even start?” Ryan asks, and we all shake our heads.

  I reach over and check the watch on Megan’s wrist. It’s almost four in the afternoon—we don’t have a lot of daylight left to do anything at all.

  “Howdy neighbors,” I hear a deep voice call out. We all spin to see a gigantic man standing in the doorway, his ham-sized fist raised to knock against our completely destroyed door.

  I see Regg’s hand creep towards the handle of his pistol as he strides over and offers the big man his hand. “I’m Chad Regg, previous Sergeant in the United States Army,” Regg says as the two shake hands.

  “Jack Gunner. Private First Class,” the big man says, snapping to attention to salute Regg.

  “At ease, soldier,” Regg says with a slight smile on his face. It’s obvious that he is delighted to come across a fellow Army man. “We aren’t in uniform here,” he says, and the other man’s face falls a little at the reminder of everything they’ve lost.

  “That was some mighty fine shooting,” the guy says, turning to study us all—his face registers shock, probably to see that our numbers mostly consist of teenagers. He catches Sunny’s eye and gives her a sad smile before turning away. “You guys really saved our bacon,” he tells us, and I suddenly recognize his profile. He was one of the neighbors on the roof.

  “Well your shooting last night saved ours,” my dad says, coming forward to shake the guy’s hand. “We hadn’t even realized what was happening until the kids heard you shooting. Jack gives my dad a jovial smile.

  “I just wanted to come over here and thank ya’ll.” He pauses for a minute like he wants to say something but needs to steel his nerve. “Ya’ll didn’t seem like you were the friendly sort. You never came over and introduced yourselves, so we just gave you some space...but in light of what happened today...”

  “I think we all need to start working together if we’re going to survive,” Regg says, interrupting him, and Jack nods.

  “That is exactly what I was trying to say. Thanks, Sarge.”

  “I agree with that,” Regg says, nodding his head and looking thoughtful.

  “We didn’t mean to come across as unfriendly; we just had so much prep to do...” my dad tries to explain, and Jack nods.

  “I know what you mean. It’s gonna be tight with that first snowfall breathing down our necks,” he stops and motions around the cabin. “And now this.”

  “Did you...lose anybody?” Regg asks, and Jack shakes his head.

  “Not today,” he says mysteriously, but I don’t think any of us want to pry. “We just got up on that roof and didn’t budge—would’ve been a different story without you guys though.

  “We didn’t lose anyone today either,” Regg tells him, and Jack looks relieved.

  “I’m mighty glad. Some of the others weren’t as lucky,” he tells us, and my heart sinks.

  “Others?” Barry asks in confusion, and Jack nods.

  “The people in the other cabins. I saw the guy right next door to us open up his door to look out, and they were overrun before I could even shout out a warning.” Jack stops to cross himself. “The other cabin further down had their door knocked in around dawn, and they didn’t make it either—they were all nice folks,” he says, making me feel super guilty for never taking the time to get to know them, or see if they needed any help.

  We all stand awkwardly, none of us saying anything as we each think our own personal, heavy thoughts. “I’m going out,” Silas says suddenly, probably feeling uncomfortable in the emotionally charged room

  “What?” I say, surprised by his abrupt announcement. “Where are you going?”

  “Just to take a look around,” Silas says mysteriously, and he holds his hand out to Barry. Barry hands him the keys.

  We all watch him leave, and it breaks the silent spell. “Well, I should be letting you folks have some time,” Jack says, backing away from the door. “You should definitely repair this door tonight,” he mentions as he taps the door one more time.

  “Thanks, buddy,” my dad says, seemingly infatuated with our new arrival.

  “I’ll stop by in the morning when I see you up and about,” Jack promises as he leaves, shaking my dad’s hand and saluting Regg.

  “He seems nice,” my mom says when Jack leaves, and I have to agree. Plus, it can only help our chances to have another army guy around.

  I peer out the front door, wondering where Silas took off to, but my attention doesn’t get a chance to wander for long.

  “We have a lot of stuff to do and a small amount of time to do it in,” Regg says, clapping his hands to get all of our attention. “I don’t want to seem sexist, but I need you girls on cleanup. This living room needs to be scrubbed with bleach and I want you wearing protective gloves,” he commands, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

  I bite back the immediate whine that wants to come from my lips at being assigned the girl stuff. I glance over at Megan and see that her face is thunderous as well, and it brightens my mood a little—after all, she was the one that volunteered me as the zombie bait.

  “Ryan, and Art,” Regg calls out, and they look at him expectantly. “Take a nap,” he says, surprising us all, and I’m more than a little bit jealous. “You two are on first watch tonight,” Regg snaps, and my jealousy evaporates.

  “Thanks,” Ryan says as he starts heading for the front door, but Regg shakes his head.

  “That damn trailer almost became our final resting place today,” Regg says, “We are all in the house now until further notice.” Ryan doesn’t argue, he just changes his path and heads for the stairs instead. My mom purses her lips at the idea that there will be boys bunking upstairs now, but she isn’t going to complain about it—at least not right now.

  “Barry and I will reinforce the door. We’ll probably need to pick up a new one on our next supply run, but we still need it to shut and lock for tonight.” Regg’s words send dread coursing through my body at the idea that we could wake up in the middle of the nigh
t and have to do this all over again—with the depleted ammo supply; I doubt we would be so lucky twice.

  “Come on, girls,” my mom says, taking charge of the cleanup crew, and I drag my feet as I follow her into the kitchen. We didn’t shoot any of the zombies inside, THANK GOD, or this would have been so much worse, but the zombies that got in still managed to leave their mark. We mop and wash goo off of every surface for two hours straight, while Regg and Barry find spare wood and replace the door frame. The lock is completely busted, so they settle for an old-fashioned barricade for now, rather than a deadbolt.

  I keep glancing out the window as the sky gets darker and darker, worry gnawing my gut about Silas. I’m just about ready to say something to Regg, maybe get a team together to go out and look for him, when there is a heavy knock at the front door. We all freeze and stare at it.

  “Who is it?” Barry calls through the door, and I nearly jump for joy when I hear Silas answer back.

  “Where have you been?” Barry snaps, looking annoyed, and I must admit I’m struggling with the emotion myself.

  “I second that!” I chime in, earning myself a scowl from Silas. I scowl right back at him though. He needs to learn he can’t just disappear and leave us to worry sick about him.

  “I followed the tracks, and it wasn’t that easy, at first,” Silas says, coming in and sitting down on the couch, and we all crowd around him like he’s the six o’clock news.

  “Did you find out where they came from?” Regg asks, and we all lean forward, eager to hear.

  Silas nods. “Yeah. They came from down below. They just followed the road up the mountain.” We blink. For me personally, this news is very anticlimactic. It actually makes a lot of sense that the zombies came from down below where there are millions of them.

  “Shit,” Regg cusses. “We were so stupid to leave that road accessible.” He stands up and begins to pace as he runs his hands across his smooth, shaved head.