DEAD RAIN: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse (11 page)

27

“Sheriff! Sheriff Leeds!” Deputy Hayes pounded on the front door of
the Leeds house. The power was out in the neighborhood and the house was dark. The gingerbread trim of the porch roof served as a fountain, funneling rain in steady ropes. Hayes cursed the frigid drops of water that somehow splashed past the plastic train of his rain cap to plunk down on his neck.

Leeds finally opened the door. He was dressed in pajamas and robe, holding a bourbon in one hand and an electric lantern in the other. And he wasn’t happy.
He eyed the deputy angrily. The man was soaking wet and shivering uncontrollably. “Hayes, what the hell is the ruckus? Why are you bothering me at home at this hour? You woke my whole damned family.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I tried to call but the phones are out. We have a problem, Sheriff. A really big problem.”

Leeds could tell by his deputy’s demeanor that whatever the problem was, it was very real. His quaking wasn’t just from the rain. “What kind of problem?”

“They’re out.”

“What do you mean they’re out?” But even as he asked the question, he suspected the answer. “Talk!”

“I went by the cemetery. The main gate’s busted open. They’re out. And it’s not just them anymore. It’s spreading. They’re all over the roads and they’ve bitten a lot of people. It’s spreading fast.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Hayes nodded. “Route 47’s a disaster zone. So is Route 9. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. That’s why I went to the cemetery, to check. The girl wasn’t
there. No one was, dead or alive. And the old Ford was gone. The main gate was open. Looked like she crashed through it.”

“That’s impossible. She was a goner.”

“Well if she was, she got up and drove away after she was dead. Can they do that?”

Leeds was silent. For the first time in his reign as head of the small town police force he felt powerless. As the news sank in he felt sick. Monumentally sick.

“On top of that,” Hayes continued, “I can’t find Jonesy or the new guy Jurgensen. They didn’t respond to my radio calls and now I can’t even get a signal. I swung by the station and it was deserted. I think Holly stepped out for lunch and never came back.”

The news hit Leeds hard. It was one thing to lose a deputy like Jonesy or Jurgensen, but Holly was his favorite niece. He’d set her up with the job working the cushy graveyard shift switchboard and now he was afraid he’d
soon regret it.

“Sheriff, we need to get out there and stop them. I tried to reach the state police but—”

“You what?! Are you a goddamned idiot?”

“Sheriff, we need help. You haven’t seen what’s happening out there.”

“You listen to me, Hayes. What we need to do is find that stupid girl. I don’t know how she managed to get out of there, but we need to find her and shut her up. Damn it, we should have stuck around to make sure. We’ve gotten too lax.”

“Forget the girl, Sheriff. It’s beyond that now. I’m telling you—”

“No, I’m telling you, you pinhead! If what you say is true, we don’t know how bad it is or how it will end. But if that girl starts talking to the wrong people, we’re both dead, regardless. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen, under any circumstances. You got that?”

Hayes reluctantly nodded.

“She must be a local,” the Sheriff continued. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be down here in this storm.”

Hayes was silent. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Since she didn’t evacuate, she probably lives in one of the storm safe areas. Cruise the east end of town first… then the county roads west of nine.”

“County? But—”

“But nothing. Do as I say. Nobody’s going to question your jurisdiction in this storm. Just find that ’58 Ford.”

“Yes, sir. And then?”

Leeds restrained his response. He despised the deputy’s weakness, but didn’t want to provoke him.
Better to handle this myself. I can’t depend on this idiot.

“Just bring her in for questioning,” he said calmly. “I’ll figure it out from there.”
Unless we get lucky and those things get to her first—and save me the trouble.
“I’ll be at the station. At least until Holly turns up.”

Suddenly
the Sheriff’s wife Hedda appeared behind him, yanking the door open wide, holding her housecoat bunched at the neck. “What’s going on out here?” She eyed the deputy suspiciously. “Is something going on?”

“Get back to bed,” replied her husband sharply. “It’s just routine business. I’m handling it.”

“Well, keep it down,” she snapped, and went inside. “People are trying to sleep.”

Hayes waited until he was sure she was gone. “Sheriff. About those things…”

“Listen, son. You have to stop questioning me on this. It’s God’s will. Just as it’s always been. This might be the big day. Resurrection Day. The Second Coming. We may all be called to glory very shortly. You should be proud to be a part of it. But we can’t let outsiders interfere. So man up. Submit to God’s authority. Go out and find that girl before she screws it all up and brings the wrath of Babylon down on our heads.”

Hayes felt his stomach turn. All his suppressed guilt came gushing up inside him, hotter than molten lava. He choked back a mouthful of bile as he hurried to his car.

One thing he knew in his heart…
Whatever is happening out there has nothing to do with God.

28

Ryan and Kerri hiked nearly a mile after
they ran out of gas. They knocked on three doors with no luck before they finally found refuge from the storm. Those three homes appeared to be well kept and well secured. Their owners were probably either seasonal residents or had evacuated due to the storm.

They struck gold on their fourth attempt, a ramshackle bungalow set back from the road in a
n overgrown clearing. As they trudged wearily across the weedy lawn they could see the house was clearly abandoned. Half the paint on the clapboard walls had flaked off, revealing weathered gray wood underneath. Most of the windows were broken, with gaping holes in the glass.

Ryan was thankful that tick season was over, or the place would have probably been infested with the blood-sucking crawlers. He cursed as he reached the front door and found it padlocked. “Shit, it’s got a padlock on th—”

Kerri kicked the flimsy door open with one forceful kick. “After you,” she said with a cheeky smile, and aimed her flashlight through the doorway.

Ryan stepped inside, leading the way with his keychain LED, which cast a tight bright ball of bluish light. Kerri followed closely on his heels, eager to get out of the rain.

The place was chilly and damp inside, with the musty odor of mold. Heavy drops of rain plopped through the weather-damaged roof, forming large puddles on the floor. Twigs and leaves and a thin layer of soil covered the rotting floorboards—years of debris blown in through the broken windows. Most of the furniture was gone, but a few old chairs remained. Empty wine and beer bottles littered the room.

“Home sweet home,” Ryan joked, keeping his voice low.

“Don’t knock it,” Kerri replied just as quietly. “It beats the rain.”

“Barely,” said Ryan as a blob of gelid rain smacked his scalp.

“We better check it out before we get too cozy,” Kerri suggested. She closed the front door and propped an old wooden chair under the knob.

With Jurgensen’s Glock in one hand and her flashlight in the other, she moved cautiously towards the back of the one story house. “Watch your step. The floor isn’t very stable.”

“I’d call that an understatement,” Ryan whispered, shining his light on a rotted out hole in the floorboards.

Kerri brushed cobwebs away as she stepped through the kitchen doorway and swept her flashlight around. Ragged scraps of linoleum clung to the mildewed floorboards. The plumbing had long been gutted. The sink was filled with fal
len plaster and ancient debris.

The back door appeared to be firmly closed, but there were big wet patches on the floor. Kerri’s first alarming thought was that they were footprints, but when she shined her light on the ceiling she saw drops of water dripping through sagging cracks.

“Nothing in here,” she said quietly, brushing past Ryan as he stepped up to take a look. She crossed into the next room, swinging her light ahead of her.

Without warning she cried out and jumped back, landing on Ryan’s toes. But she instan
tly relaxed, chuckling in embarrassment. Ryan looked over her shoulder, shining his light in. A long strip of wallpaper dangled from the ceiling, swaying eerily in the drafty room.

“Sorry,” Kerri whispered. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“Don’t apologize,” said Ryan. “It’s good to be afraid. If we’re not afraid, we won’t survive.”

Kerri swept the room with her light. It was empty. Just a moldy old mattress on the floor. “It’s clear,” she said quietly. But as she was about to step away, she heard a creaking floorboard and stopped.

“What?” Ryan whispered.

Kerri put a finger to her lips and pointed to a closed door across the room. Holding the pistol before her she moved slowly towards it. Ryan backed her up, aiming his police 9mm at the door. He had the trusty old Colt stuffed in his waistband for bac
kup.

Kerri crossed the room as silently as possible… pausing whenever a floorboard creaked underfoot. Finally she reached the closed door. Swallowing her fear she reached for the antiquated latch. Slowly she lifted the primitive handle. It clicked softly.

The door banged open and a shadowy figure crashed into her. Kerri’s flashlight flew from her hand and her Glock discharged as they tumbled in a heap to the floor. High-pitched cries rang out in the darkness.

Ryan swung his LED light toward the commotion. He aimed his pistol but held his fire,
afraid that he might hit Kerri.

“Don’t shoot!” a girl’s voice cri
ed out. “Please don’t hurt me!”

Ryan stepped closer. His light revealed
Emma’s frightened face.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Kerri, dusting herself off. “You scared the living shit out of me, girl. What the hell were you doing in a closet?”

“I heard someone breaking in,” Emma said meekly, “I thought it was…”

Kerri sighed. “Lucky for you it wasn’t. You would have been trapped in there. Jesus, my heart’s still pounding.” She helped
Emma to her feet. “I’m Kerri. That’s Ryan.”

“
Emma. Emma London. I live down the road.”

“What
are you doing in here if you live nearby?” Ryan asked.

“I had to get out of my house. My boyfriend… he’s…  one of them… and he… he got… my mother.”

“Mine too,” said Ryan somberly. “I mean… my mom was…” He choked on his words.

“How’d you get in here?” Kerri asked, quick to change the subject before either of the teens broke down
emotionally. “The door was locked.”

“The back door,” Emma explained.
“I knew about this place. We—I mean, the neighborhood kids—used to come here to party.”

“By any chance do you have a car?” Ryan asked hopefully.

Emma nodded. “There are two in my driveway. But one’s almost out of gas. And it’s blocking my mom’s car.”

“You know we need to get out of here, right?” said Kerri. “It’s only a matter of time before those things catch up to us if we stay here. Do you have the car keys?”

Emma shook her head. “They’re back in the house. But it’s not safe to go there. I told you…”

“How many are in ther
e?” Ryan asked. “Just the two?”

Emma
shrugged. “As far as I know. But there are bound to be more.”

“That’s why we have to go now, before they get here. I’ll make a run for the keys,” volunteered Ryan, “If you can tell me exactly where they are. I don’t know what’s up with those things, but they seem to move pretty slow. I’m pretty sure I can dodge them.”

“I know,” said Emma, her voice quivering.

“You know what?” asked Kerri.

Emma lowered her head. She wanted to tell the whole story but her throat was knotting and tears were filling her eyes. “The cemetery…” she croaked weakly, before breaking down in relentless, undulating sobs.

Great,
thought Kerri.
This one’s losing it.
She wished she had a light sedative to give her, but the closest thing she had in her bag of paramedical tricks was far too strong to administer under the circumstances. They needed to stay on their toes.

“Cemetery?” asked Ryan. “What cemetery?”

But Emma was in no condition to elaborate. She was crying uncontrollably, her emotions unblocked by the knowledge that she was no longer alone.

29

“There it is. The Lenape Creek station,” Cat said. “Looks like someone’s inside. I see a light.”

The station was just a small simple building. Bronski parked the SUV close to the door and they darted through the rain to the overhang shielding the door. “Hello?!” Bronski called out, banging on the screen door, which was latched. “Anybody here?”

Sheriff Leeds came out of his office to greet them, carrying an electric lantern.
Goddammit.
Just what I do not need right now.
He beamed a phony smile as he unlatched the door. “Well, good evening. What brings you fine troopers out in such ungodly weather? If you’re here to alert me about the storm I already got that memo.”

“We haven’t heard from you guys in a while and got
a little worried,” said Cat, happy to be out of the rain. “The phone lines are down and your radio signals don’t seem to be getting through the storm.”

“I know the lines are down. Power’s out. Makes you long for the old rotary dial phones, doesn’t it? But I guess you’re too young to remember them, huh? All the fancy new hi-tech crap takes a major dump
around here as soon as Mother Nature sneezes. Well, step on into my office, I just made a fresh pot of joe.”

“Thanks,” said Cat. “That sounds really good right now.” They followed him into his office.

“So what’s been going on down here, Sheriff?” asked Bronski. “Headquarters got reports of some kind of mayhem.”

“Mayhem? Hah!” the Sheriff smirked. “It’s nothing but the storm. Everybody’s jumpy since Superstorm Sandy. They crap their pants at the first sign of thunder and lightning. We’d all be better off if the idiots would simply evacuate like they’re told to.”

“You’re saying you’ve had no unusual incident reports?” asked Cat.

“Unusual reports? What constitutes unusual on a night like this?”

“Increased violence? Criminal activity?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, no, nothing like that. We have had a few extra fender-benders due to the weather, but nothing unusual. My deputies are out there now, checking the roads. Why? What exactly have you heard?”

“Nothing concrete. But headquarters seemed to think something was going on. They sent us down here to gather intelligence.”

“Intelligence? Ha! Well, between you and me, the brass is usually short of intelligence. Yours truly excluded of course.”

The troopers exchanged glances as they sipped their coffee. Something in the Sheriff’s demeanor seemed hinky, and they both felt it.

“Well, I’m happy to hear it’s nothing,” said Bronski.

The Sheriff grinned good-naturedly and pointedly raised his lantern. “People get a little goofy whenever the power goes out. They get spooked when they lose their creature comforts. I’ll bet you a dollar to a dime if the phones were working, our switchboard would be lighting up all night with idiots claiming they saw the Jersey Devil creeping around their yards.”

Bronski laughed. Cat looked around, studying the room. There were several portraits on the wall showing previous Sheriffs, from recent framed photos to quaint antique paintings dating back two hundred years. A handcrafted cross made from tree branches and coils
of thorns hung above the door.

“What jurisdiction is this, Sheriff?” Cat asked curiously. “Cape May County?”

“No,” replied the Sheriff. “This township was founded long before any of the current counties existed. We remain an independent entity. Self-incorporated. We prefer to take care of our own affairs.”

“Interesting,” said Cat. “I admire your spirit.”

“Well, I can’t claim credit for our independence, I just maintain the traditions of our ancestors. Some of our families have been here for going on four hundred years,” said the Sheriff proudly. “They cleared the first homesteads and filled in the swamps. Took the land from the Lenape Indians and kept it from the Redcoats during the Revolution.”

“Wow,” said Cat. “That’s impressive.”

“Yes, fascinating,” said Bronski politely, not wanting to get stuck there all night, listening to the old man chatter. “Well, I guess we’d better be on our way. The sooner we finish our rounds, the sooner we can get back to our nice warm barracks. Thanks for the coffee, Sheriff.”

“Yeah, thanks, chief,” added Cat. “It really hit the spot. I’ll have to come back and visit when the weather is nice. I love history. Majored in it at Rutgers.”

“And you ended up a cop?” the Sheriff asked.

“Well, after serving a few tours in Afghanistan, I thought I’d probably be bored teaching a bunch of school kids.”

“You might have been surprised,” Leeds replied. “Schools these days are the closest thing we have to combat zones. Not here in Lenape Creek, of course. We keep a tight lid on things.” He smiled unctuously, steering them towards the front door. “You might as well head back up. Ain’t nothing going on down here that we can’t handle. And you don’t want to get stuck on these roads in a big nor’easter. In an hour they’ll be running like a river.”

“We’d love to, Sheriff,” said Bronski. “But we have our orders.”

“Don’t be foolish,” the Sheriff gently urged, “I told you there’s nothing to report. And the brass won’t know how far you went on your appointed rounds. I promise I won’t snitch on you.” He winked.

“We’d know,” said Bronski.

The Sheriff forced another grin. This one had a sour edge. “Ah, yes. Young pups. I admire your cockeyed idealism. But I’d seriously consider heading home right now, before the roads get any worse. If you’re worried about reporting back too soon, there’s an all-night diner up in Millville that serves killer fried chicken. Free range.”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” said Bronski. “We’ll have to try it sometime. Maybe after we make our rounds. Good night.”

Cat caught a glimmer of displeasure in the Sheriff’s eyes, which he covered with another forced smile.

The troopers hurried out to their SUV. Leeds stood in the doorway, watching in dismay as they drove off in the direction of the shore towns.

***

Bronski turned the wipers on high. As they slapped streams of rain from the windshield he tried the police band
.
“Radio check, this is state police unit One Alpha Two Four Seven, does anybody read me? Come in if you copy.”

The only answer was static. He tried
once more then gave up.

“What was up with that old toad?” asked Cat. “I don’t think he wanted us down here poking around.”

“Of course not. You’ve served your  time in the army, you know the type. Sitting on his ass in a nice warm office while his deputies are out working in the rain. He obviously feels guilty and would prefer it if everyone was just like him. Everyone except the grunts under his command, out there doing his job.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, Cat. I’m always right.”

Cat snorted.

“What?”