Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Read online

  We stare at the doors, not quite sure what lays beyond them. A loud clatter behind us reminds us that while we don’t know what lies ahead through these doors, we do know what’s rooting around in the dark behind us. By comparison, whatever is in this room cannot be as bad. “Come on,” I urge Silas, imagining the zombies creeping up behind us in the dark. Silas nods and pulls his gun out, and I do the same. He had been using his knife up until now, because it’s silent, but not knowing what we face…the gun is the better choice.

  “Stay together,” Silas snaps as he pushes through the doors and shines his flashlight around the big warehouse filled with boxes and pallets of inventory, waiting to be stocked in the store. It will never be stocked now. The moans of the dead fill the room, echoing off all the concrete, and Silas shines his light in all directions, trying to locate the source.

  “There!” Dad murmurs as a ragged zombie wearing a blue vest comes stumbling excitedly towards us. Silas tucks his gun back in his belt and pulls his knife from his hip instead, and I hold my breath in fear. Getting up close and personal with a zombie is always a risk, no matter how skillful you are. Silas hands the flashlight to my dad and strides forward confidently, planting the blade into the employee’s temple. I only let myself breath again when the zombie slumps to the ground and Silas pulls his blade from his skull.

  “Behind you,” I squeak when I notice the zombie that’s just walked around a pallet full of electronics. She isn’t making a sound, not a moan or a groan, which is odd for a zombie. When Silas stabs her through the eye socket and she falls to the ground, I can see why. Her throat is completely ripped out; she probably couldn’t make a sound even if she’d wanted to. I wince and turn away. The door we came through has steel brackets, like we can use something to barricade the zombies out. I look around until I find a thick two by four piece of wood leaning to the side. I pick it up and it slides in perfectly. I’m not sure if it will keep the dead out or not, but it makes me feel better than before.

  “Smart move, Blondie,” Silas says, coming over to inspect the barricade. “They probably barricaded the doors every night for added security,” he says as he runs his hand over the sturdy piece of wood. We hear the sound of shuffling feet outside the door and freeze. There are no windows, so we don’t bother turning off our flashlights. We aren’t one hundred percent sure yet that we’re alone in this warehouse, but we do stand frozen, straining our ears to hear if the zombies are going to start beating against the door.

  We hear scuffling, like they are rubbing against it as they walk, but they never actually pay it much attention. After half an hour, it’s quiet outside the door, and Silas walks quietly towards me and my dad.

  “We need to get out of here and figure out a plan,” he tells us, and we nod in agreement. I feel relatively safe in here, and there are a lot of supplies, but we can’t abandon everyone else at the cabin, just because I’m terrified of stepping back outside. I turn to my dad, and tears well up in my eyes, spilling over and scalding my cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad. This is all my fault,” I splutter without meaning to bring it up, and he wraps me in a hug.

  “It’s not your fault, Janey, how could it be?” he denies, but I know he’s just trying to make me feel better.

  “If we hadn’t gone to get that snowsuit for Sunny,” I tell him. “You wouldn’t have stayed behind when the zombies came. We would all be together on our way home.”

  Dad’s face darkens. “I don’t blame you for that, Jane. Sunny needs that snowsuit, and this was Barry’s doing. When the zombies came, he didn’t try to save anyone else, he just hopped in the car and drove off. He would’ve done the same thing if you guys were there or not.” My dad shakes his head. “He didn’t even call out for me to get in the car—not that I would have left you. He just jumped in and drove off.” I’m shocked by what my dad is telling me, though I never liked Barry, I can’t believe he would be so selfish. “He didn’t even know the doors would shut when he moved the car, I just lucked out and they did.”

  “What about Regg?” I ask, finding it hard to believe that the Sergeant would just drive off and leave us to the zombies.

  “When we finished with the truck and got the car backed in, Barry sent Regg ahead to go home with the truck. He had some plan that we should stagger our departure so we didn’t rile up the dead and risk losing supplies.” Dad shakes his head.

  “I doubt Barry has the nerve to go back to the cabin after what he did, but if he does…” My dad gets a gleeful look on his face, “I’m gonna kick his ass,” he promises, and Silas grins as well, and I have no doubt that Silas will be first in line to help.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask to distract Silas and Dad from their plans to beat Barry, not that he doesn’t deserve it, but I’d like to get home in one piece, and when we do, I’ll probably take a swing at Barry myself.

  “We need to get out of here,” Silas states, even though, duh, everyone already knows that. I resist rolling my eyes at him—barely.

  “They didn’t take the third car,” my dad tells us, and my ears perk up. “Everything fit in the first two, so it’s still sitting outside.” We are all silent for a minute while we absorb that.

  “I don’t know,” I say finally. “It could be really dangerous.”

  “So is trying to get back on foot,” Silas counters, and he isn’t wrong. “I think the only thing we can do is see when we get out there.” Silas rakes his hand through his dark hair and sighs. “It’s impossible to know otherwise—we don’t even know what’s gonna be on the other side of this door when we open it.”

  “It’s a bad situation all around,” my dad agrees, “But the sooner we get going, the sooner we will get home.” A part of me balks at his optimism, the sooner we get going, the sooner we might get eaten!

  “There’s no helping it,” Silas agrees like he can read my mind. I glance at him sharply, but he isn’t even looking my way. He’s walked over to the regular door beside the huge roll up door and he’s examining it.

  Dad looks around at all the pallets of food just sitting around. “It’s too bad we couldn’t get a tractor trailer and load all this stuff up,” he murmurs. It isn’t a terrible idea, but it’s not one we can possibly pull off right now.

  I open my mouth to reply, but I am distracted by the metallic squeak of a door opening. I whirl around and see that Silas has opened the door several inches and is peeking out. I want to yell at him to shut the door—that he didn’t even give us any warning—but I don’t. If there are zombies out there, I don’t want to sound the dinner bell. I pull the gun from my hip and inch forward, being careful not to point the business end at Silas.

  Silas pushes the door open a little further and then turns back to us with a nod. “It’s as good as it’s going to get,” he says, and we all nod grimly. My dad comes up behind me and sets his hand on my shoulder.

  “I love you, Jane,” he tells me, and I don’t like the way it sounds—a bit like a just in case goodbye.

  “I love you too, Dad,” I automatically reply, refusing to let myself give in to the urge for hysterics. Silas doesn’t give us a chance to say anything else before he pushes the door open, grabbing the set of keys from a nail pounded in beside the door, and steps out into the sunshine. I follow him out and am temporarily blinded after the darkness of the warehouse. I blink the dots from my eyes as Silas quickly locks the door and pockets the keys.

  “We can come back now,” is all he says as we turn and try to get our bearings. There is a lone zombie stumbling towards us, but none of us are that worried about him, not until he gets closer.

  “I think we need to go this way,” Dad says, pointing, and Silas nods, so we take off, keeping to the edge of the building. I see several dumpsters and shudder, thinking back to being trapped outside that strip mall. Silas pauses when the zombie behind us finally gets too close. He stops just long enough to stick a knife through its eyeball.

  We reach the end of the building and peek around the
corner at the parking lot. There isn’t a lot moving around, all of the zombies must’ve gone inside. “I think it’s worth making a run for it,” Silas says, but my dad shakes his head.

  “I don’t think we all have to go. It’s safer over here than out there in the open.” Silas opens his mouth to volunteer to go get the car, but my dad shakes his head again.

  “Not this time,” he tells Silas, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. “I’ll go.” He gives me a quick hug and I have to bite my lip to keep from begging him not to, and then he’s gone. I stare after him, watching as he breaks into a run, stepping through the broken glass and zombie gore as he reaches the front of the store. The car is parked in front of the cola machine, and my dad doesn’t waste time as he opens the door and hops in.

  A zombie comes staggering out of the store, stepping through the glass, intent on the car, and I hold my breath. Silas and I watch as the zombie makes his way over to the driver’s side window and start to pound and claw against the glass. “Why isn’t he moving?” I burst out, unable to keep it to myself any longer. I feel Silas shrug beside me.

  “I don’t know,” he admits.

  “Do you think we should go over there?” I demand, and Silas shrugs again.

  “Let’s give him another minute,” he tells me, and I let out an annoyed huff, even though I know he is trying to choose the best option for all of us. “Look, something’s happening,” Silas says, elbowing me, and I squint to see what he’s talking about. The passenger side door flies open and my dad scrambles out of the car just in time to meet a second zombie staggering out of the store. Dad raises his gun and shoots the zombie point blank in the face, making gore and bits of bone splatter all over the cola machine. The zombie goes down, and Dad pauses just long enough to shoot the first zombie over top the roof of the car. Then he takes off running towards us.

  “Shit,” Silas curses under his breath, and my heart starts pounding even harder.

  “Barry must’ve taken the keys,” my dad tells us as he bends over at the waist, panting to try and catch his breath.

  “I’m definitely going to kick that guy’s ass,” Silas says, and my dad nods his head in agreement.

  “What now?” I ask, feeling utterly hopeless. It was terrifying enough travelling around when we had the truck, without it…our chance of survival gets even lower.

  “We’re on foot until we find another vehicle,” Dad tells us unnecessarily, and Silas starts adjusting the straps on his backpack.

  “We better get going then,” Silas says. His face is calm, and I can’t help but marvel at the way he isn’t freaking out. He knows what has to be done and he’s just going to do it. I know what needs to be done too, but it’s a little harder for me to put one foot in front of the other.

  “We should try and stay out of the open,” my dad suggests, and Silas nods. Without asking me if I’m ready, they probably know I never will be, they take off, and I’m forced to follow them or get left behind.

  We are both lucky and unlucky that the Wal-Mart is kind of off by itself, not really around any other stores or houses. There is a construction site a block down the road, but who knows what it was going to be. Despite our vow to stay out of the open, there isn’t a lot of choice in the matter. We try to stay close to bushes and trees, but they are few and far between, so we mostly end up running in the open anyway—and we are running. The Wal-Mart is on the end of town, so we decide not to chance going back through the middle of zombie-ville, even though that’s the way home, so we head out on the main road instead. Sweat starts to roll off of me, soaking my undershirt and making me itch. I glance over at my poor dad and see that he is plastered in sweat too. If anything, he is probably in worse shape than me. The only one that seems perfectly fine to run forever is, of course, Silas.

  “Silas,” I call out to him once we are out of town and have been jogging for the last fifteen or so minutes. Silas looks over at me with a resigned look on his face.

  “You need a break, don’t you?” he asks, like it’s paining him. He slows down and I nod, looking towards my dad.

  “And I don’t think I’m the only one,” I tell him, making my dad shake his head.

  “I never said I needed a rest, Jane,” Dad tells me sternly, but I know, even though he won’t admit it, he’s happy with the change of pace.

  I ignore them both, and we walk in silence down the center of the road. It’s nerve wracking being out in the open like this, but at least it offers a wide open view of the surrounding area. A few houses dot the landscape, but they are miles from the road. Even if we walk all the way out to them, there isn’t any guarantee that we’ll find a vehicle. Silas and my dad agree to wait until we come across a house that is much closer to the road—it would be pointless to waste all of our energy on nothing.

  We walk for another twenty minutes and, despite the fact that it’s late autumn, the day really warms up and the sun shines down on us, making me prickle with sweat beneath all my layers. I want to stop and take my coat off, but I know I’ll just have to carry it, and it will get in the way if I have to run or fight. I decide to suck it up, complaining about it will just make me look weak in front of Silas and my dad.

  “Holy shit,” I hear Silas mutter, and I look up from the road. I’d been daydreaming and staring down at my feet, more than I should. I look up and my heart leaps into my throat. Dad crowds in closer to me, and I feel myself shrink up a little in fear. I wish I could shrink up completely, until I’m invisible. An enormous horde of zombies has just crested the top of the hill ahead of us. They see us as soon as we see them, and they let out a collective moan of excitement.

  “It’s time to run,” Silas says, and I’m reminded of the horde we ran from for hours before we were rescued by a Camp Freedom chopper. The chances of lucking out like that again are slim, and I know it. I start running, following Silas as we get off the road and head into the nearby field. If we keep going, we will run into the zombies; if we turn back, we will head back into town. The zombies are still far enough away, and we have a decent head start, so the bumpy terrain might actually work to our advantage.

  “There’s gotta be something in those trees over there,” Silas says, pointing to a large group of trees half a mile away. I would usually question him, but from this distance I can see the driveway that separates from the road and disappears into the trees.

  I’m panting by the time we get close enough to see the old iron fence that surrounds the lot. “Oh no,” I say as I stop running and stand staring uncertainly at the cemetery.

  Silas ignores my outburst and keeps running towards it. My dad at least stops and looks back at me. “Come on, Jane,” he calls, staring back at the large number of zombies that have fallen behind but will still be on top of us within the next ten minutes or so.

  “Silas,” I hiss as I run to catch up, and Silas actually stops and looks back at me.

  “What?” he asks, sounding annoyed.

  “This is a graveyard,” I point out the obvious, like that should explain why we shouldn’t go in.

  “Exactly,” Silas agrees. “And you know what that means?” he asks me, and I have to shake my head.

  “No,” my dad and I answer as one.

  “Everyone in here is the good kind of dead,” Silas snaps as he motions for me to get moving. “Come on.” I try and leave my reservations at the gate as we walk in and are confronted with tidy rows of gravestone markers. I stare hard at them, but none of the earth looks disturbed, and I relax a little—maybe the dead rising from the grave just happens in the movies—and I’m grateful. The smell hits us then, and the overwhelming buzz of thousands of flies.

  “What is that?” I yelp, forgetting about the horde behind us in the heat of the moment. I cover my nose with my sleeve to keep from gagging. Silas doesn’t answer but he creeps forward towards a large hole that’s been dug in the ground, and even he has to cover his nose.

  “It’s a mass grave,” my dad says as we stare down at the bodie
s that fill the enormous pit. “They must’ve been dumping the infected out here to try and contain the situation.” I gag as I look out over the sea of mottled gray faces, rotting and splitting in the sun.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say, barely containing my vomit. Silas and my dad stubbornly shake their heads.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, we need to find somewhere to hide,” Silas answers for them both as he turns and starts scanning the area. There is a small wooden garden shed where the groundskeeper probably kept his supplies, but Silas dismisses it. “It wouldn’t hold up against that many,” he says, and my dad nods in agreement.

  “What about one of those concrete mausoleums?” my dad points out, and I follow his finger to the back of the graveyard where there are small concrete buildings in a row. They look like mini houses. Silas and my dad take off towards the closest one and begin trying to pry the door open, and I follow them.

  “It won’t budge,” Silas pants as he slams his shoulder into the cement so hard I can’t help but wince.

  “Isn’t there a dead body in there?” I ask, and Silas shoots me an annoyed look.

  “Really, Jane?” he snaps as he tries the next building and has the same luck. “There are hundreds of dead bodies walking through that field right now and when they get here they are going to rip us apart until WE are dead bodies!” he yells at me in frustration. I see Dad frown at his outburst, but he doesn’t chastise him—he probably secretly agrees.

  My dad goes pale as he looks over at the zombies that are now clearly visible, lumbering through the field in our direction. “We’re running out of time,” he tells us both, and I don’t really like the resigned tone he’s using.

  “We need to run and get out of here,” I tell them, panic making my voice high and squeaky, but Silas stubbornly shakes his head.

  “They’re too close and there isn’t any guarantee we’ll find somewhere before one of us twists an ankle out there, or we get too tired to run.” His words send a shiver of dread running down my spine. “And there isn’t any guarantee that the next place will be any better.”