The Z-Day Trilogy (Book 2): Z-Day [Day of the Zombies] Page 6

  He entered the garage and went straight for the chainsaw resting on his work table. He snatched it and held it firmly in his hand, staring at his blue Ford Escort. A noise caught his attention coming from the back door. He knew he was being surrounded by zombies. He no longer felt safe locked inside the house. He knew they would eventually find a way inside, and he would be cornered like an animal. He had to get out of the house and try to find other people like him who hadn’t been infected. He got into his car and put the chainsaw on the seat next to him. He wondered how many zombies would be standing by the garage door. He didn’t have time to wait for the garage door to open, so he came up with another plan. It was risky, but it could get rid of any zombies near the garage. He started the car and counted to three and on three, he threw it into reverse and hit the gas. The car went slamming into the garage door. It gave way, folding in half, pushing a couple of zombies violently to the side. His car managed to push through the chaos and cleared it. He continued down the driveway and threw the car into drive once he made it to the street. He peered back at his house as the zombies at his front door had somehow smashed through it and was entering. He breathed a sigh of relief. He now had to make it to the downtown area where he figured he would find a lot of survivors…and zombies.

  The road was jammed with wrecked and burning cars, firemen trying to put out fires while being attacked by zombies, and the police shooting them. He had no idea it had gotten so bad. He imagined the government had a secret satellite watching the carnage unfold in front of them.

  He continued down the road until it was totally cutoff by an overturned bus. Several zombies were pulling teenagers from the wrecked bus, tearing them apart. He wanted to stop and help them, but he knew it wasn’t worth the risk. He wouldn’t be able to save any of them from the milling mass of teeth.

  He tried to shake the image from his mind and swerved his car into the yard of the house next to the overturned bus. There were zombies everywhere he looked. He hit the brakes and came to a stop. The zombies turned toward him and staggered toward his car. He was left with no option, but to mow through them and hope for the best. A lone straggler stood in front of his car, daring him to move forward. Its face was in ghastly ruin. He didn’t want to give it a chance to attack, so he hit the gas and then the zombie. It became a bloody mess across his windshield. He slammed on the brakes, causing it to roll off of the hood and onto the ground. He hit the gas and rolled over it like a speed bump and then through the horde of zombies. He knocked them aside until he reached the pavement of the road again. This side of the road was less concentrated with the dead. He turned on his wipers and tried to free the blood from the surface, but most of it just left a long bloody smear. There was nothing he could do about it. If he stopped to clear it, he took the risk of being attacked. He did the best he could to see the road ahead of him. He was thankful he didn’t have far to go until he reached the downtown area.

  Chapter Eleven

  John Perry brought his truck to a dead halt. He could see several military vehicles blocking the highway pointing spotlights in his direction. He knew it meant trouble for him. The military was going to keep him from leaving the area.

  “Damn!” He screamed and slammed the steering wheel with his fist. “This is all I need!” He reached over and snatched a cigarette from its pack and lit it. He was unaware that martial law had been put into effect. He then saw something that scared him. The military was pulling people from their cars and executing them in the middle of the highway. He quickly turned his car around and headed back to the city. He had a better chance of surviving with the zombies. Lucky for him, he had taken the shotgun from Clive before he had left. He thought about going back to the shop, but he didn’t know if Clive was still alive or not. He hadn’t properly provided him with a fighting chance. He decided against the store and headed back downtown to see if he could find somebody who could help him.

  General Athens stood chewing on his cigar. He surveyed the corpses lying on the ground, his mouth set in a grim line. He turned his attention toward a zombie shambling slowly across the highway, dragging its feet and looking more the worse for wear than most he had seen already. Its arms were outstretched as it drew nearer.

  “There’s a couple more,” pointed out a soldier standing near him.

  “Where? Oh, I see them coming around the blue car,” said the general. “Fire!” Several shots rang out and the zombies fell to the ground twitching. “Someone go finish them off.” He watched as two of his men went over to them and fired a couple rounds into each of their heads.

  Another shot rang out and another zombie fell to the ground, bouncing off a car on the way down. The general looked around, satisfied he was accomplishing something.

  “We have to keep these damn things contained, men. We can’t have any of these mindless things infecting the rest of the nation. These damn things are like roaches and we’re the exterminators. We’ll keep fighting until every last one of them is dead. Now clean this mess up before they start attracting flies.”

  His cell vibrated in his pocket and he answered it. “Wilbur, where are my damn smart zombies? They need to get airlifted to Nevada.”

  “It’s already done. They’re en route to Nevada as we speak. Doctor Krage is taking over the project. She claims she has the formula for the cure, and she also claims she can perfect the smart zombies.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all evening. Good job, Wilbur.”

  “Should I stay here or head to Nevada?”

  “Head to Nevada. I can handle everything here.”

  “I figured you would say that. I already have a helicopter on standby. I’ll see you in Nevada.”

  “I’ll meet you there within two days. It’s almost morning now. I still have a lot of work to finish.” He disconnected with General Poe. “Yes sir, I have a lot of work left to finish here.”

  General Poe waited patiently for the helicopter to arrive to take him to Nevada. As he stood there he heard something from above his head. He looked up and saw something flapping through the sky. It was the parrot from the park. In a furious flapping of wings, it descended toward him. It kept saying “Death Comes Tonight” as it continued on a collision course with him.

  The general stood there, frozen in place, wondering what the parrot was going to do. It became a diving mass of claws and feathers. It landed on his arm and dug its claws into his arm, and in one swift motion pecked him in the neck and then took flight. He brought his hand up to check the wound in his neck. His hand came away from his neck sticky and red with the juices of life. Complete surprise was etched on his face. He stared at the sky, speechless, as the parrot flew away.

  Beyond the bird, he saw the helicopter coming into view. He heard the whup-whup-whup of its blades as it landed several feet away from him. With his hand covering his wound, he made his way over to it and boarded.

  “Are you all right, General Poe?” asked one of the soldiers. “It looks like you’re bleeding.”

  “It’s nothing,” said the general. “I cut it on something. Do you have a first aid kit onboard?”

  “It’s standard issue. I’ll retrieve it for you.”

  “Thanks,” He took the kit and took out a bandage and covered the bite. He didn’t have time to think about it. He had other matters to concern himself with. He had to get to Nevada and prepare the smart zombies for war. He laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. All he now wanted to do was get some needed rest and forget about everything for a while. He would worry about the project once he landed in Nevada.

  Chapter Twelve

  The store windows were shattered as John cautiously walked inside, hoping to find some supplies he could use. The town was now deserted by the zombies he had encountered earlier. He figured they must have moved on to another area. He made his way through the store scouring for anything that could be useful. This store had seen less looting than the others he had checked. In the front of the store, the shelves were
stripped bare, but toward the back, it was a different story. The alcohol and snack section was fully stocked as if nobody knew these sections existed. He made his way toward them and then suddenly stopped to listen. He could have sworn he had heard a noise coming from the back. He stood frozen in place. He heard the noise once again. He made his way toward the back, hoping he wasn’t going to have an encounter with one of the living dead.

  “Hello.” He thought about what he did. If a zombie was in the store, he just told it he was inside with it. He readied his shotgun and continued into the back area ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  He reached a swinging door leading into the back storage area. He swung it open and held it with his foot and waited. He heard a box shift by the back door.

  “All right, you can come out now. I know you’re hiding back there. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Two sets of hands appeared from behind the box and two people slowly came into his view.

  John saw that neither of them was holding a weapon. He lowered his weapon and looked at them. “I thought you two were zombies. You should have made yourselves known to me.”

  “We thought you were a zombie. We couldn’t see anything from back here. By the way, my name is Gus and her name is Cindy.” She waved at him.

  “My name is John. Is there anybody else hiding back here?”

  “It’s just us.”

  “What brings you to this store? Let me guess, you wanted to get some beer.”

  Gus looked at him curiously. “It’s nothing like that. We escaped from the National Guard, found a motorcycle, and made our way here before we ran out of gas. We then got chased by several zombies.”

  “Where are the zombies?” asked John. “I didn’t see any bodies in the store.”

  “We got away,” said Cindy. “We were faster than them.”

  “I’m trying to leave and head for Wanatah, but the military has the road closed. Did you know they were pulling people from their cars and executing them. I can’t believe the military would do something like that.”

  “Really?” asked Gus. “Where have you been hiding all these years. That is exactly what the military would do.”

  John ignored his remark and glanced around the back area. “Is there anything back here we can use as a weapon?”

  “We couldn’t find anything but a box of Skittles. Would you like one? asked Cindy.

  “Yeah, toss me one.”

  Cindy tossed him one of the bags from the box and he caught it midair. He sat down on a chair and opened it. He looked at them. “Are you two a couple or something like that?”

  “Why do you want to know?” asked Gus nervously.

  “Relax, I’m just trying to make small talk. I have no interest in your girlfriend. I’m more interested in how I’m going to get out of this city. If I don’t find a way out, I’m sure the military will find me and I don’t want that to happen.” He tossed some of the candy into his mouth.

  “We’re stuck here,” said Gus. “We can’t leave here. It’s not safe out there.”

  John put some more candy in his mouth and stared at the two of them. “Are either of you religious? I’ve already come across one religious fanatic tonight. I don’t want to go through all that again.”

  “I go to church,” said Cindy. “Don’t you go to church?”

  “Not since my mother died when I was younger. It’s God’s fault you know.”

  “How is it God’s fault?” asked Cindy angrily.

  “Settle down, young lady. I once went to church every Sunday, read my Bible and said my prayers. I did everything a proper Christian is supposed to do. That was until he let my mother die. The ironic thing is she died after leaving a program at church she went to by herself. God was supposed to protect her. She was the perfect Christian–just like I was. I don’t know what happened. Perhaps God had it in for the both of us, and he let her die in a car accident on her way home. She never broke any of his ten commandments. Hell, she never drank or smoke. Tell me, is it worth it listening to a God who is willing to turn his back on you.”

  “He didn’t turn his back on you,” said Cindy. “People just die. It’s a fact of life. They just die.”

  John laughed. “Yes they do. I bet you’ll try to tell me that the zombies are not God’s fault.”

  Cindy shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry your mother died. I’m sorry you turned your back on God. I guess you have the right to feel the way you do even if you’re wrong.”

  “Wrong!” He started to stand up, but changed his mind. “Tell me since you’re so obviously smart, who do I blame then? Who is the one I point an accusing finger at? If it’s not God, then tell me who? Who am I supposed to be so damn mad at?”

  “He’ll forgive you if you ask him,” she offered. “He has the power to take away your pain.”

  “What does he know about pain? What does he care about our pain?”

  “You already know. You know Jesus died on the cross for our sins. He will help heal your pain if you let him.”

  They were interrupted by the sound of a shelf being knocked into in the front of the store. John rose to his feet spilling the bag of skittles on the floor. He readied his shotgun and slowly made his way back to the front. Gus and Cindy stayed in the back.

  A shot rang out from the front of the store. Cindy looked at Gus fearing the worse. She assumed a zombie had gotten inside the store and John had made quick work of it. But instead of being a zombie, it was much worse. John returned to the back of the store, dragging a man dressed in camouflage.

  “Do you think he knew we were here?” asked Gus, helping him drag the body the rest of the way into the back area. “Did he have a chance to alert anybody we were inside the store?”

  “I don’t think so,” said John. “I shot him before he saw me. I didn’t give him the chance to notify anybody. But this does pose a problem for us. This means there are soldiers in the area looking for people like us. If they find us, they will execute us. I’d rather be bit by a zombie than to let a soldier decide my fate. Stay here. I’m going to check on things outside.”

  “Be careful you’re not seen,” said Cindy. “They might be out there searching for their friend.”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll keep low. This time I’m going to make sure the door is locked.” He made his way back to the front of the store and crouched down in one of the isles. From his vantage point he could see outside of the store. He watched as a jeep pulled up in front of the store and somebody he suspected was an officer got out. He saw several soldiers surround him and listened as the officer barked orders to them. The soldiers scattered in different directions. John was afraid they were about to go door to door looking for anybody who was in hiding. He was about to head back to where Gus and Cindy were hiding but saw that the officer was looking at their store. For some reason he seemed focused on it. The officer took a step toward the door, but turned his attention away when he heard several shots ringing out. He watched as the officer walked away before leaving the store and heading down the sidewalk. He heard shouting and watched sadly as three children were shot dead as they tried to run away. The cancer of hate gnawed at his last nerve. He wanted to rush the soldiers and slit every single one of their throats. He felt helpless watching the massacre outside the store. He knew he was completely outnumbered and if he gave away his position, it would be like committing suicide. He held his breath and prayed for the first time in many years.

  God must have heard his prayer. The officer got back in the jeep and ordered his men to continue to another part of the downtown area. As far as he could tell, nobody was left behind to continue searching through the buildings. Once they were out of his sight, he made his way back to the store and closed and locked the door behind him. He stared outside the window at the children lying dead in the middle of the street. He knew they would attract unwanted attention from the zombies. He knew if they were going to leave the store, they would have to do so through the back door.

  H
is face was ashen with grief. He didn’t want to report to Gus and Cindy everything he had witnessed. Instead, he reported it was clear out front, but he thought it would be wise to leave out the back when the time came to leave. He wanted to spare them the sight of the massacre.

  Cindy looked as though she knew something had happened. She didn’t say anything as he sat down and put his head between his knees. After several long minutes, he looked over at her. “I prayed.”

  She showed a hint of a smile. “Did he answer?”

  “For now he did.” He looked toward the back door. “We’ll soon find out if he’s on our side or not.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Clive was desperately trying to get out of town, but the streets were congested with the walking dead. They were scattered in every direction he looked, rendering it impossible to safely move his car through without them trying to bash through his windows. To make matters worse, vehicles lay abandoned and silent in the streets. He could see some of them had zombies inside struggling to open the doors and escape their prisons.