DEAD RAIN: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse (21 page)

54

Buffeted by freezing gusts of wind, Ryan and Bronski slogged through the ice-cold seawater, halfway down a flooded side street. Raindrops fell steadily around them, a chorus of plops and splashes on the surface of the water. Dawn was approaching, but the storm was holding its ground. A deep dark pall hung over the town, neither night nor day, but a limbo of half-light and angry black clouds.

“How much farther is it?” asked Bronski. He’d expected a much shorter route. They’d already crossed several city blocks, and several more lay ahead.

“Not much farther,” Ryan replied, a bit sheepishly. He’d forgotten the island was wider in the middle and felt responsible for their long trek through the cold flooded streets. As he pushed through the chest-high water he looked around at the homes on either side of the residential street. Not a sign of life was evident. No candlelight shone through the windows at this early hour. The few vehicles left in the area were parked up on blocks or on cheap metal ramps in an attempt to spare them from the corrosive effects of salt water.

“I can’t believe how deserted the city
is. I guess more people evacuated than anyone expected.”

“They’re here,” said Bronski, scanning the street. “Holed up inside.”

“Do you think they know what’s happening out here?”

“I doubt it. If they’re lucky they’ll stay inside until the storm is over. Maybe by then we’ll have things under control.”

They reached an intersection. Bronski muttered a swear word as he looked down the cross street and saw a dozen undead corpses wading towards them.

Ryan raised his pistol.

“Save your ammo,” Bronski ordered. “You’ll just draw more of them.” Pulling a survival knife from his belt sheath he stepped up to meet the nearest ghoul and slammed the blade down into its skull. The man twitched violently as he died a second death and sank into the floodwater.

Bronski pulled his knife free and gauged the distance to the next nearest zombie. It was only twenty feet away, but despite the eager look in its eyes it was moving slowly, hampered by the sucking current and its own wobbl
y legs. “Come on. Let’s keep moving.”

Ryan hurried forward
. Bronski backed slowly into the intersection, dragging his knife through the water to rinse it clean. He scanned the streets in every direction, watching and waiting until Ryan had started safely down the next block.

As Bronski turned to follow a bullet whistled past his ear, just missing his head. Startled, he stumbled and sank to his knee
s, going completely underwater. Ryan heard the crack of the shot and spun around to see him floundering facedown in the water. “Nick!”

Bronski broke the surface, spitting out water. “I’m okay, get down! Now! Get underwater!”

Ryan plunged into the water as a second shot whizzed by.

“Get to cover!” Bronski urged. Keeping his head low he started swimming towards the boy. “Get into the nearest driveway! Quickly!”

***

A block and a half behind them, Sheriff Leeds cursed his arthritic trigger finger, made even more clumsy and slow by the biting cold water. He too hurried out of sight, ducking into the driveway of the nearest house.

Stupid old man. You had them in your damned sights and you blew it.

***

Bronski surfaced near the front of a brightly painted house and splashed the last few feet to the safety of the driveway, where Ryan was already waiting
, shivering in cold fear.

“You okay?” Bronski asked.

“Yeah. But my pistol is soaking wet,” Ryan replied, nervously holding up his Glock.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Bronski. Taking the gun he popped the magazi
ne and shook the water out, then slapped the mag back in place. “A short stint in water shouldn’t affect it. The bullets are watertight. Just keep pulling the trigger if it doesn’t fire the first time.”

“Did you see who shot at us?” asked Ryan anxiously. “Was it that Sheriff?”

“I didn’t see. But it has to be him. Or maybe one of his deputies. Who else would be trying to kill us?”

“Maybe someone mistook us for those things.”

“Picking us as random targets when there are plenty of them around? Not likely.”

“Right,” Ryan conceded.

“Whoever it is let’s just hope he’s alone. I don’t know how many deputies that bastard has, or whether they’re even in on this with him… whatever the hell his involvement is.”

“
They are. I mean, Emma said there was a deputy with him at the cemetery. What do we do now?” asked Ryan anxiously. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of sloshing through the floodwater with someone shooting at him.

“We do what we have to,” Bronski said coolly. “And right now we have to keep moving.” He looked around, searching for a safe way to proceed. He
slogged quickly through the water to the rear of the driveway. It led to a spacious backyard but there was no alleyway abutting it. They could climb the fence into the next yard, but there was no guarantee it would lead to a safer exit. And the delay would give the Sheriff more time for his own sneaky maneuvers. At least for the moment they had a good idea where he was.

He judged it a bad gamble. They had to get help fast and the quickest way was back into the street.
He hurried back to Ryan. “We’ll move from driveway to driveway, using the houses for cover. Stay completely submerged under water until you reach the next driveway. As long as he doesn’t see us moving he’ll assume we’re still pinned down here. When we reach the end of the block we’ll detour one block over and be gone. You with me?”

Ryan nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Bronski dove underwater and started swimming for the next driveway.

Ryan waited a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Then he closed his eyes and followed, diving well below the surface to make sure he wouldn’t be seen. He didn’t see the zombie
being pushed by the current into the mouth of the driveway—moving directly into his path.

55

“Keep going,
Emma,” said Kerri, trying to sound calmer than she felt. They were halfway through the mirror maze, with no idea how much farther they had to go to reach the exit or how far behind them the walking corpses were. But from the sounds echoing off the mirrored walls, they were getting closer and they weren’t giving up the chase. “You take Cat to safety. I’ll try to hold them off as long as I can.”

She quickly checked the glass walls around them for signs that the zombies were near. She could hear their grunts and groans and stumbling footsteps but it was impossible to tell how close they were. Their gruesome images appeared off and on through the panels around them, but there was no way to know if they were merely reflections through multiple mirrors or zombies lurking through clear glass panels
just inches away.

“No,”
Emma protested. “Please. I can’t do it alone. She’s too heavy. I’m not that strong.”

Kerri shot her a disappointed look. “I don’t believe you,
Emma. After all you’ve been through tonight you’re going to give up now? I don’t think so.” She slipped the strap of the troopers’ tactical bag down off her shoulder and draped it over Emma’s.

Emma
sagged under its weight. Kerri pulled the Sig from Cat’s shoulder holster. She considered handing it directly to Emma, then thought twice about it and stuffed it into the tac bag instead, making it even heavier.

Emma
opened her mouth to protest but Kerri cut her off. “Just keep her close between you and the glass walls. Wedge her against a mirror if you need to take a break. And don’t even think about shooting a gun in here unless you absolutely have no other choice. Now go.”

“No, Kerri, please,”
Emma whimpered. “We have to stay together like the trooper said.”

“
Nick left me in charge and there’s no time to argue. I have to slow those things down or none of us will make it out alive. Find someplace safe. A room with a sturdy door you can lock or someplace high up that those things can’t get up to. I’ll catch up with you… as soon as I can.”

Emma
fought the idea a moment longer, then relented and hugged her. “Be careful, Kerri, please be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me, hon’, I’ll be fine.” She scanned the glass panels around them—still clear—then helped
Emma pull Cat to her feet. The trooper’s wound had congealed, but she’d already lost a lot of blood. Combined with the effects of the pain medication, she was barely able to walk.

Kerri shook her gently. “Cat. Hey. Pull yourself together, girl.”

“Leave me. I can’t… ”

“We’re not leaving you,” Kerri said, her voice like iron. “So cut the crap.
Emma’s taking you someplace safe. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. Then we’ll all get out of here together.”

Cat didn’t respond. She closed her eyes and sank back against a mirror, wishing they’d just let her sleep.

Kerri thought for a moment. If she didn’t get them moving right now Emma might crumble again. Reaching into her medical kit she pulled out a small vial, unscrewed the top and held it under Cat’s nose. Cat suddenly snapped awake.

“Here, take this,” Kerri pressed the vial into
Emma’s hand. “It’s smelling salts. Keep it like this, in your hand with your thumb over the hole. If you feel her starting to sag, give her a good strong whiff. Do it quick before she has a chance to lose her footing and you won’t have any problems. Just act fast to keep her up on her feet.”

A zombie banged into a glass panel beside them. They turned to see it looking at them through the glass, its hunger flaring, eyes clearly focused on Cat’s bloody wound. Raising its blood-stained hands it clawed at the invisible barrier and tried to bite through it, moaning in ghostly frustration, working itself into a lather. Three of its fingers were stripped to the bone—and Kerri saw
Emma’s eyes go wide as she saw them.

“Don’t look at it!” Kerri barked, before the fear could set roots. “Go!”

This time Emma obeyed, jolted by the appearance of the hungry cadaver. With Cat’s good arm draped over her shoulder, she shuffled forward through the maze. After passing through two tiny cubicles, Emma felt Cat slipping to the floor and quickly pinned her body against a panel.

“Leave me…” Cat whispered drowsily. “I just need a little sleep.”

“Shut up,” Emma said firmly. As scared as she was right now, she was more afraid of being alone again. “No one gets left behind.” She pushed the vial of smelling salts under Cat’s nose. The trooper winced but the acrid fumes did their job.

“Stay with me, Cat,”
Emma pleaded, as the trooper straightened up. “I need you. You can rest as soon as we find someplace safe.”

Cat nodded weakly and forced her legs to move. They passed through two more cubicles before she needed to rest again. They were there for less than ten seconds when a trio of cadavers appeared through an adjacent panel, stumbling ineptly, bumping into the panels around
them, bumping into each other.

They didn’t seem to be aware of the women.
Emma rightly guessed that the panel separating them was a one-way mirror blocking their view, but she froze in place nevertheless, afraid that any movement or noise might draw their attention.

She wondered if they were strong enough to break the glass between them.
No,
she concluded,
these panels are built to withstand people banging into them all the time. They have to be super-strong to prevent any accidents.

Finally the corpses wandered
away, vanishing into the maze.

Instead of relief,
Emma felt increased anxiety. They’d vanished so quickly that it underscored how delusive the maze was. Voracious ghouls could be lurking unseen just a few feet away… hidden behind any mirror… waiting around the next turn.

Cat slumped again, her weight dragging
Emma towards the floor.

“No, Cat. Stay up.”
Emma struggled to prop her up. She raised the vial of salts to her face and pressed it against her nose. “Breathe, Cat… breathe!”

Cat inhaled a meager whiff of the vapors, which gave her the wherewithal to suck in a stronger dose.
Emma finally got her straightened up, propped against a mirror panel.

Suddenly a zombie materialized in the mirror, stomping purposefully toward them.

Emma whirled around to see it in the next cubicle, lurching forward, its eyes locked hungrily on Cat’s bloody wound. Her mind reeled, whipping her into action. Throwing her body back she pinned Cat against the mirror with her shoulder as she groped for the Colt revolver in her waistline. She grabbed hold of the revolver’s grip but as she tried to draw it, the barrel snagged under her belt. She tugged at it desperately, twisting and yanking. The ghoul was already crossing into their cubicle when she finally pulled it free.

She s
wung the revolver up and fired.

The force of the shot pushed the corpse back, but it rallied and came at her again.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the stinging cordite smoke Emma pulled the trigger again. Her second shot pierced the cadaver’s eye and it tumbled back but she fired again and again in her panic, not stopping until the hammer clicked twice on empty chambers.

She opened her eyes to the sound of breaking glass. Panel after panel cracked and crashed down before her, demolishing the maze’s carefully constructed chain of illusion. As the pungent gunsmoke cleared, a row of cubicles stood open before her. Jagged pieces of glass jutted from
the sides of their frames like fangs in a series of giant sideways mouths.

Emma
dropped the empty gun as she realized what she’d done. Whatever advantage the maze had afforded was gone.

Cat was now fully alert. The gunfire had triggered a surge of combat adrenaline. For a moment she thought she was back in Afghanistan. Then she remembered the hell they were in.

***

Five cubicles and a million miles away, Kerri heard the gunshots and the shattering glass and knew immediately what had transpired. She cursed herself for trusting the unstable teen, and knew her own situation was now much more precarious.

I’ve got to get out of here now.
She turned and moved deeper into the maze, holding her Glock at arms length, using it to probe her way from one confusing cubicle to the next. The gun barrel banged into invisible glass panels and poked through open doorways.

Her angst grew darker with every step. Through the glass panels around her she caught glimpse after glimpse of creeping corpses, and knew it was only a matter of time before her luck ran dry.
Suddenly she spotted Emma with her arm around Cat’s waist, moving at a brisk pace. They appeared to be just a few cubicles away, hustling forward with gutsy determination.

Kerri almost shouted to them but thought better of it, knowing it might confuse them and would certainly draw the
ghouls. Instead she rushed forward to join them—and crashed face-first into a pane of invisible glass. Stunned and reeling in pain, she stood wavering for a moment, cursing herself for acting impulsively and letting down her guard.

Taking a deep calming breath she resumed her trek more judiciously, carefully probing with her gun until she found the next doorway.
Stepping through it she looked in the direction she thought her companions would be. They were no longer in sight. She realized they could be anywhere in the maze—she could have seen them reflected through a dozen misleading mirrors. Stifling a curse she turned and poked at the panels around her, eager to find the next doorway. She felt more alone than ever and regretted leaving the group.

She finally found an opening and stepped through it—and collided with a body that blundered out of nowhere. As they crashed to the floor, Kerri hit her head against a mirror, stunning her. She landed awkwardly, trapped face-to-
face beneath a corpulent woman.

The corpse gazed at her through soulless eyes. Her face was a swollen ruin of gaping bite marks, purple-tinged flesh bitten through to the bone. Her odor wasn’t pleasant but it wasn’t very strong. She was obviously a recent kill. With half her skin chewed away and her hair encrusted with gobs of dried purple blood it was hard to tell her age, but she was grossly overweight. Her massive body crushed Kerri’s torso to the floor, o
ne arm pinned beneath her body.

The woman’s head twitched as she smelled Kerri’s living hormones and her lips curled back in a hungry snarl. A weird sound rolled from her throat, part longing moan and part death rattle.

Kerri pointed the Glock at her head but hesitated, realizing the sound of a shot would bring more zombies, and the woman’s dead weight would be impossible to lift.

The woman lunged for a bite. Kerri dropped the Glock and grabbed the woman’s hair just in the nick of time—holding her head back, keeping her snapping jaws at bay. The pistol bounced off her hip and slid to the floor beneath her. She squirmed and twisted under the dead woman’s bulk, struggling hopelessly to free her legs and her other arm. In desperation she tried to reason with the once living thing. “Please… you don’t have to do this… Get a hold of yourself…”

The massive corpse wiggled like a rabid walrus, frantically chomping its jaws, trying to bite Kerri’s face or her forearm. Its one track mind was driven by a solitary instinct. To feed.

Kerri pressed her mouth and her eyes shut as flecks of rancid mucous showered her face. She didn’t know how the infectious agent was spread and she wasn’t taking any chances. She soon regretted dropping the pistol, realizing it would’ve been better to have used it and risked her chances with the noise and repercussions. Now she was trapped, one arm nailed to the floor, the other quickly tiring. There was no way she could release her grip on the woman’s hair and retrieve the pistol without getting bit.

The dead woman thrashed her head wildly, inflamed by the smell of pheromones in Kerri’s fear-induced sweat. She was obviously impervious to any pain that Kerri’s desperate grip on her hair might be causing, and was not losing any energy. It was clear to Kerri that she herself would tire long before the resurrected corpse did. Despite their clumsy lethargy and uncoordinated movements, whatever energy was animating the dead transcended the normal limits of human power.

She thought about yelling for help, but knew
Emma was barely holding it together and Cat was in no condition to come to her aid. And there was no way they’d make it through the maze in time to rescue her, even if they were in shape to do so. She was much more likely to get them killed.

She clung tenaciously to the dead woman’s hair, wracking her brain for a solution to her deadly dilemma. Her regret about dropping the gun took a bleaker tone.
Now I can’t even kill myself.

A shadow darkened the cubicle. A man shuffled into the doorway, and for a moment Kerri had hope. His face looked normal and his dark eyes glittered. For a moment she thought he was alive. Then he turned his head, and she saw that half
of his face was gone.

He staggered into the cubicle and the cloying stench hit her. He sank down slowly beside them, watching with vague fascination as Kerri struggled to hold the woman’s head back, her overtaxed muscles
trembling with pain and exhaustion. He eyed Kerri in wonder for several seconds, processing the odd mix of stimuli radiating from the struggle… then he sank his teeth into her arm.