Dead World (Book 2): Headed North (12 page)

“Broadcasting on all frequencies,” she begins.

“It must be on a repeat signal,” mutters Peter under his breath.

“There is a safe zone established in Canada. If you are able you should head immediately to this area. Mortality rate of infected is 100%. Avoid all contact with anyone exhibiting the symptoms of the disease.” The woman offers directions as well as coordinates to head toward for a safe zone.

Terry hastily scrawls them down on a piece of paper. The message goes on to warn that any infected will be terminated upon arrival. A stern warning to keep out anyone carrying the virus.

“So it does exist,” Peter says, letting himself fall into the office chair. “Well I’ll be damned. It’s the best news we have gotten in days.” He runs his hands through his greasy hair which has become too long for his liking since the chaos began. But needs must.

“We can do this,” says Daniel.

“Yeah,” Terry says. His dour attitude finally lifting. “I think we can.”

19

Hardin, Montana

Daniel fidgets with his gun for the hundredth time. It is now or never. They are finally ready to try and break for the Humvee.

Valentine wraps her arms around Chloe tightly. This is their chance to make it. But Chloe has to run on her own. “You have to be strong for us,” Valentine whispers in her ear and she nods. “We are going to run for the car. You will stay in front of me and you are going to follow Daniel. You just have to stay with us.”

She nods again. The little girl seems to have lost the ability to speak. The trauma and everything else since this all began, losing her parents, all of it is just too much. Her eyes are wide and her lips are pressed into a tight line.

Daniel wishes there was more he could do. He never thought of himself as a father, or even a father figure. He wasn’t around when his brother had kids but to be suddenly thrust in the role he finds that he is learning to just roll with the punches. Life has become too dangerous not too.

“You guys ready?” Peter says, looking back at them. He racks the slide on his shotgun and aims it squarely at the door.

Terry stands off to the side, he took off the lock and so the bodies are leaning into the door as far as they can. Their dirty fingers scrapping the inside trying to get at them.

Terry and Peter make eye contact. Peter gives him a nod and Terry pulls at the wooden cross beam. The only thing separating them from the horde. It slides free with a screech and the door slams inward with the press of bodies. Before it is even fully open Peter shoots into the mass. Several of the zombies are blasted backwards. The shotgun deafening in such tight quarters.

He fires again into the crowd. Daniel and Terry join him pushing back the undead. They shoot in staggered lines. Just like Peter warned them. They can’t all be caught reloading at the same time. It would give the dead too much room to close on them.

So they walk forward shooting into the mass. Just like Daniel hoped, many of them have drifted off to other houses or areas looking for living bodies.

Peter fires again before his shotgun clicks empty and he steps back. Daniel immediately takes his place. Despite the frigid air pouring in from outside he is sweating from nerves. He steps in the spot Peter vacated and fires. The dead are relentless, but forced into such a small opening they are able to thin their numbers quickly.

They clear out the entranceway. Bodies drop in piles, the place reeks of decay and stale sweat. Daniel catches sight of the Humvee just a few hundred feet from the door. Along the walkway there are strewn half eaten bodies with their skulls too caved in to reanimate. The gunshots enliven the crowd and the dull moaning increases to a panicked frenzy. The horde knows a meal is close again.

Daniel looks back at Valentine and jerks his head toward the Humvee. “Now or never,” he says and they take off through the opening. They run and immediately Daniel can tell how much of an effect the cold has had on the dead. Black, frost bitten skin patched across their dead flesh and open wounds have frozen. Many of them struggle to move even with prey so nearby.

Despite the bone numbing cold the dead still press on. Daniel runs through the opening firing. He catches a zombie in the chest from a few feet away. Not a kill shot but at this range the body disintegrates sending fleshy matter everywhere.

They are careful not to fire in the direction of the car. Afraid they might pop a tire or disable the vehicle. Luckily for them there are not many between them and the car. They close the distance as quickly as they can with the heavy packs full of food. But still the dead are all around them. Daniel fires into the horde again taking them out as he runs. He can hear Terry and Peter doing the same. Clearing the hole that might save their lives.

Running at full speed Daniel slams into the side of the hummer. The wind is knocked from him, but the adrenaline flowing through his system keeps him focused on the task. Whipping around he sees Valentine, running just behind him clutching Chloe’s hand, pulling her along. Terry follows them providing space. He fires back into the crowd and in moments they are all by the car.

Peter runs around the other side firing. As soon as he gets to the driver’s side door he flips the locks. Daniel throws open the doors and heaves Chloe into the seat. Across the street Daniel can see those zombies who were elsewhere beginning to close on their position. They are pouring out of alleys and houses with broken doors, even out of the half burned buildings.

Hundreds of them.

He grabs Valentine’s hand and helps her into the car. Terry swings inside as well. Daniel feels cold hands grab his shoulder. He spins around frantically swinging the butt of his shotgun into the face of an older woman. Her black teeth are exposed through a half destroyed cheek. She is wearing an old night gown that is covered in oily, black fluid. The stock of the heavy gun connects with her jaw and smashes it to a pulp. The old woman falls away, not in pain, just knocked off balance. Daniel kicks off of her launching himself into the car just as Peter slams the door shut.

Peter doesn’t wait for Daniel to close the door. He guns the engine forward and they fly through the opening that is steadily closing. Daniel reaches out and slams the door shut. Bodies, half frozen from the cold, are thrown aside with dull thuds.

Terry looks outside and then back at the map and quickly estimates the number of dead in each direction. The damned things pour out of hiding like ants defending a nest. “Take a left up there,” he calls, pointing towards a backstreet that leads away from the school.

Peter steps on the accelerator. The engine growls as they pick up speed, the oversized wheels rips up grass and dirt throwing it behind them. He veers across a lane of bushes, little more than rattling sticks now, and peels out onto the street. Bodies are strewn in everywhere like pliable speed bumps. There is no time to dodge them all.

He swings the car in the direction Terry indicated and they swing out onto a side street. He presses the gas down, picking up speed. Glancing at the tank he sees that they are still at half. Some small luck. He realizes that survival in this moment is as much luck as it is anything else.

The city is a ruined shell as they race towards the edge of town. Trees, like old bones stand dark against the afternoon sky. A layer of snow covers the charred, caved in buildings. The smell of ash and decay lingers in the air, cloying and sweet.

Zombies emerging from the darkness of homes and businesses try to close in on them. But they are gaining speed. A few are unwise enough to get directly in their path, no thought to self-preservation, they simply want what is inside the car. Their next meal. They hit the Humvee like wet meat sacks. Their emaciated, half frozen forms break apart like shattered dolls.

Frost limns dark street lights.

“We need to turn up here,” Terry yells, louder than necessary. His adrenaline is flowing and his mind is in a heightened state of awareness. He is whipping his head around from the map to the passing scenery. He knows the town well, that’s not the issue. The issue is that with the dead closing in on them side streets get clogged with their bodies forcing them to keep doubling back.

Peter turns the car onto the street that Terry signaled. Dead pour out from behind cars, out of the alleys, from everywhere. Peter knows that if they stop now it will be over. He slams on the accelerator and sends the car careening into a group of the dead.

He aims for the thinnest spot but there are still dozens of bodies packed together. Most of them are thrown aside, a few roll under the heavy vehicle their bodies clogging up the tires and making steering next to impossible.

One even flips end over end, right over them. His head hits the window with a sickening crack spraying blackened brain matter and blood across the windshield sending spider web cracks out from the point of impact.

Peter curses as the body flies over them as he sees the damage. He puts on the wipers but it does little more than smear the mess. He leans in trying to see through the gore and presses even harder on the gas.

“Turn right!” Terry calls out again and Peter yanks on the steering wheel. The car bounces as he takes them over a curb and straight through a newspaper stand. The papers crash in a flurry.

That’s when Peter sees the exit. He drives the car towards a downed section of the wall. Debris is strewn everywhere and even a few cars that are little more than blackened wrecks. The bodies packed inside are burned husks. Probably people trying to escape that first night.

The Humvee catches the bumper of a rusty Ford with a screech of tearing metal, but Peter forces his way through. They fishtail onto the road, the tires clogged with the dead and icy slush. Finally they break away from the horde.

Zombies shamble out after them but they have escaped the worst. Peter lets up on the gas a bit and drops them back to a steady controlled pace. Still unwilling to trust that they are really safe. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel and he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He turns the car out onto the road leading to the highway and passes the shells of buildings he had known since a child. A large part of the town was consumed by the fire from the night that the dead broke through. Blackened husks of bodies lay everywhere. Too many for them to avoid all together and they are forced to roll over some. But the highway is just ahead. Freedom within their sights finally.

Daniel releases a pent up breath. He squeezes Valentine’s hand tightly. She looks at him and smiles. “We made it,” she says.

“Yeah,” he lets out a small laugh. “Now just a straight shot to the safe zone.”

Terry turns heavily in his seat showing them a map and the coordinates of the safe zone circled on it. “We will need to stop somewhere. Get some more gas and food. But then, yeah, it will be a straight shot pretty much,” he smiles back at them relief evident on his face.

Peter keeps his eyes glued on the road. His mind is still racing after their narrow escape. He is elated that they made it without one of them getting hurt. Or worse, bit. But he can’t let his guard down just yet. He has a sinking suspicion that it is times like this that the universe would like to play a big cosmic joke on him, as if someone up there is out to get him.

The Humvee growls in the frigid air, the heater kicks in and slowly the air starts to warm up. Peter takes them up onto the highway and looks behind him at the town he used to call home. Part of him hopes wildly that he will be able to forget his wife, forget his son, now that he can get some distance.

Another part knows they will never be gone.

20

Far North

Daniel pulls the car into the long driveway. Gravel and ice crunch under the tires. They have been driving for hours, the fuel gauge is nearing empty and they need a break. The sun is just setting in the west casting long umber shadows. An older, dilapidated house shudders in the harsh wind, it is isolated, flanked by a copse of dead aspens.

“What do you think?” he asks Peter who is sitting beside him. Peter eyes the place for a moment. It looks deserted enough and the isolation gives him hope that they might be able to get a good night’s rest.

The drive enters the property a mile back and leads around in a large circle. The house is low and squat. There is a chimney, unused at the moment. The place used to be some sort of farm. Most of the farmland was left untended though and the frozen fields stand in mute testimony to the fact. There is a large barn a few hundred yards behind the house, it is old and decaying but it looks serviceable. A sagging fence runs around the length of the property.

In all the place looks long abandoned.

“It’s probably the best we are going to get out here,” Peter says, nodding at the place.

“Who would stay here anyways?” Terry asks.

Us, thinks Daniel, but he doesn’t verbalize it. Anyone desperate enough might stay here.

“Why don’t you stay out here with the girls while we check around?” Peter says.

Daniel just nods.             

With that Peter grabs the shotgun. They used a surprising amount of the ammo on their way out of the school. But there are still a few shells left, he divides them between himself and Terry and they head up the gravel path to the front of the house. The door is red with a torn screen door in front so it can be kept open during the summer. The screen door is tattered though and looks next to useless.

The whole place looks poorly kept. As if the decay sinking all over the world reached here through osmosis.

Daniel spins in his seat to look at Chloe and Valentine, sitting together and holding hands. “So,” he begins. “It’s not so bad right?”

“Well we made it past the worst part,” Valentine says.

Chloe stares out the window for a second before asking, “What day is it?”

Daniel looks at the watch on his wrist, his grandfather had given him this watch and he never takes it off. It is one of the few connections he still has to the old man. “It’s November 19
th
,” he says, “Why?”

“It’s my birthday,” she says. Her voice is small, distant. The way she says it, as if she doesn’t even care, breaks Daniel’s heart. No little girl should have to go through so much that she doesn’t care about her own birthday. Valentine looks to Daniel and the question passes unsaid. What do we do?

Daniel nods at her letting a small smile back into his face. “Well we are just going to have to do something special about that then wont we?” he says. He spins back in his seat and starts rifling through the back pack that he had stuffed full of supplies from the school. “I think I brought some chocolate in here. Maybe they will have something in the house and we can celebrate?” he asks smiling at Chloe who finally looks at them.

“But my mommy…” she begins before tears make her eyes blurry. Valentine reaches out and wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” she says, pulling Chloe’s head into her chest. She just holds her for a moment as the crying passes. Valentine tilts Chloe’s chin up with a finger. “Your parents would want you to celebrate. You know that right? They would want you to be happy.”

Valentine is forcing herself to be strong. Daniel can see she is fighting back tears. She is strong for Chloe.

Chloe nods, playing with the hem of her ripped shirt. They’ve had a hard time finding her clothes and she is so thin after the weeks of poor eating. Her face is smeared with tears. “Ok,” she says meekly.

“Yeah,” Daniel says, “they would want you to be happy. So we should do something to celebrate your birthday. Maybe we can find candles or something for you to blow out too?”

“That would be nice,” Valentine says, “And once this is all over,” she waves her hand at the window as if she could just brush it all away. “You are going to tell me what you want for a present more than anything and we will get it for you. OK?”

“Really?” Chloe asks, “Anything?”

“You bet,” says Daniel, “Think of anything and we will figure out a way to get it,” He holds up his hands to stall her. “But don’t rush this. This is going to be the best present ever, so you have to make sure it is exactly what you want, OK?”

“Hmmm…” she says, looking out the window again. “OK,” she says and Daniel can hear a small amount of hope in her voice. Keep her busy, he thinks. Don’t let her dwell on everything. We can figure out the rest when we get to the safe zone. Right now it is about staying alive. It has been ever since the change.

***

Peter approaches the door with deep, even breaths. The house looks deserted but his guard is up. He keeps the shotgun to his shoulder and nods towards the door. Terry steps forward to open it signaling on three.

Peter feels himself transported back to when they did this so many times in Iraq. Searching through houses, trying to find a bad guy that usually didn’t exist. It was dangerous then, impossible to know what they would find. And for every innocent person they searched they usually just made another enemy. This was different though.

Now he knows what the enemy looks like.

The dead don’t use surprise, they don’t try to outthink you, they don’t set traps, they don’t arm children with bombs and send them into the middle of your camp. The dead just act on impulse. Like animals, obeying their most basic needs; to eat and survive.

Terry swings the door open, revealing a dark room. The place is a mess, tattered furniture decays in a living room. The smell of moldering wallpaper is thick in the air. It looks recently disturbed. Someone has been here since the change. It’s possible they moved on, maybe looters or people just like himself, but it raises the hair on the back of Peter’s neck. One of the things he learned in Iraq was that you always trust your instinct. Never leave those feelings behind.

He nods forwards and sweeps in with the shotgun panning it around the room. The sun is going down but it casts enough light through the curtained windows to make out the shape of the room. A small hallway with a bathroom branching off one side opens into the living room. There is a couch and a love seat. Both with charred bones in piles around them. Big bones.

“Someone was staying here,” he says to Terry who follows him in keeping his shotgun pointed back out the way they came. This small of a room and they were just as likely to hit each other if they shoot in the same direction.

Terry gives a curt nod, keeping the communication as minimal as possible, completely focused on the job at hand.

Peter edges his way into the living room keeping his back to the wall listening intently for movement. The floorboards creak and traceries of dust dance in the murky air, but no one else moves. Peter assumes there is a basement. These type of houses almost always have a basement, in case of tornados or some other natural disaster.

Peter quickly checks the bedrooms. There are four in total and one other bathroom besides the first. All are empty but show signs of recent use. But, he reasons, if someone were living here all this time why would they just up and leave? Maybe they were here a week or two ago and moved on, heading towards the safe zone. With how close they are it seems probable. He checks for the basement that he assumes would be there but finds nothing.

Terry waits in the living room, the gun perched comfortably in his hands. “Do you think we should get them then?” he asks. “I think this is going to be our best bet for the night. Stay here, keep what we can and then move on in the morning.” Terry has seen all the same signs as Peter, he knows that people were here recently. But he is aware of their needs too.

“Hopefully there will be gas in that garage, we should check the barn too,” Peter says rubbing his hand through his hair. Terry nods at him.

“Alright then I’ll get them out of the car,” Terry stalks out into the cold.

Peter looks around at some of the objects on the shelf near him. Pictures of a family that look generational farmers. Some of them dating back to black and whites in front of the barn outside but it was in much better condition back then. Apparently they had come upon hard times recently. In the most recent picture the whole family is displayed. A mother and father, what looks like could be a grandma, and several kids. Seven of them in total. They are arranged in the very same living room he is in. However, in the picture it is in better shape. None of the debris and left over beer cans, none of the bones. It was actually a nice home, if a bit worn down, under all the filth.

Peter turns around as he hears the door opening. Terry walks in followed by Daniel and Valentine with Chloe walking in between them.

“Looks like this is our spot for the night,” he says to them. “We just need to go check the barn, see if they have anything we can use.”

“We are going to need gas,” Terry echoes him and Daniel nods.

“There is one more thing,” Daniel says, “Today is Chloe’s birthday.”

She lights up at the mention and smiles. Peter enjoys the smile. He hasn’t seen the girl happy about anything since he met her. He can’t blame her considering everything she has been through, but even something as simple as a smile seems to lift a weight in his chest.

“Well happy birthday,” he says smiling at her.

“We thought it would be nice if we could do something nice for her,” Daniel says, “I brought some chocolate from the school,” he gestures to his back pack. “It’s not much but it’s all we have for right now. And it’s better than nothing.”

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Peter says, “We can make it special.”

Valentine looks around the room taking in the whole room. “Bit of a mess in here,” she says, “We will need to clean up some space so we can have somewhere to stay.”

“I really don’t want to sleep in the beds,” Peter says, “doesn’t feel right to me,” he gestures to the pictures. “I don’t know who this family is but I don’t think I’ll be taking their beds. If you all would rather that is fine by me, but I will be out on the couch.”

“Then we will all sleep out here,” Daniel says, “We can clean this place up and get some wood or the fireplace, I saw a pile of wood out there and I bet some of it is still dry near the middle.”

“That’s a great idea,” Peter says, “We need a little warmth. Better than sleeping in the cold.”

“Chloe and I can find some blankets then,” Valentine offers, “Maybe we can find some paper and make you a card or something?” she grabs Chloe’s shoulder and gives her a light squeeze.

“I would like that,” Chloe says.

“Well it’s settled then,” Peter says with finality, “Looks like we all have things to do,” he nods to Terry and they head outside towards the barn to check for supplies.