Die Dead Enough (8 page)

"I don't hear Mina, though..." Conor responded.

They both looked away at the horrible thought.

"We have to get the hell out of here," said Aiden as he stood and pulled the screwdriver from his back pocket.

"And we have to go through whatever's down there," Conor said, pointing at the floor.

"Yep. Which way's it gonna be?" asked Aiden.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Only a few floors between us and the garage. North stairwell or south?"

"Uh... south," Aiden said, with a shrug.

"Okay. South, it is."

They moved down the hall, following turns, passing the decimated office spaces and bright white bones. Conor had gathered the food again and filled the bag, wincing as the cans inside knocked against one another.

The hall opened into large office area with a few dozen cubicles, some of which were now smashed into pieces. Computer monitors lay shattered on the ground, chairs upended, file cabinets dented and standing askew. The brothers picked their way through the wreckage, placing their feet carefully between the piles of rubble and human remains. Just ahead they could see the doorway that led to the stairwell.

They increased their pace, longing to be rid of this place once and for all. Another ear-piercing shriek came from below. Trish was still alive.

For a moment, Conor thought about saving the girl, but selfishly pushed the idea aside. Aiden was right. Time to think about themselves, time to get someplace safe.

Aiden reached the door first, taking a quick glance through the window, his knuckles white as he gripped the screwdriver. He nodded to Conor and pulled the door open, stepping inside. As before, the walls and steps were stained with blood, two skulls resting face down on the stairs that led up to floor number four.

As they began their trip down, a door beneath them swung open, followed by Trish's scream as she raced up toward the brothers. Conor and Aiden froze where they were, preparing to flee.

"No! Daddy!" she called out, charging blindly up the steps. When she looked up and noticed the brothers, she screamed in fear and surprise. She ran into Aiden's arms, clutching him, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"We have to hide!" she said, trying to pull them away. Below they could hear footsteps coming up toward them. Conor hazarded a glance over the railing and saw a lone zombie making its way up the stairwell. Its ball cap sat crooked upon its head and it began to moan deeply in its throat as it reached the last flight between itself and its prey.

Conor held up one finger, indicating to Aiden that only one was coming. He hefted the hammer in his other hand and knelt on the steps, watching through the railing as the creature made its way up. The thing's head was hung, chin to its chest, its clothing stained red.

Aiden stepped back through the door and into the office area, motioning for Trish to remain silent and to wait as he returned to the stairwell to offer his brother assistance.

Three more steps and the zombie raised its head, red-rimmed eyes staring blankly ahead of it as its dead legs continued pushing it forward.

Conor pulled back in shock. It was Vernon.

He hesitated, looking to Aiden in confusion. Aiden stepped closer, wrenched the hammer from Conor's hand and leaned out over the rail as Vernon stepped up within range. Aiden brought the clawed end down hard as Vernon looked up, taking it deep in the forehead. The hammer held fast as Aiden tried to pull it free, the zombie reaching out and climbing toward him. Aiden leaned back, pulling Vernon up against the rail, the monster's arms reaching through, trying to grasp at Aiden's legs.

Conor started throwing kicks at the zombie, knocking its hands away, but eventually it grabbed Aiden's jeans and began to pull him down. Its grip was amazingly strong and - try as he might - Conor could not loosen it. He stomped down on Vernon's forearms with everything he had. The bones cracked, but the creature would not let go.

"Get the screwdriver!" Aiden said. "It's in my back pocket!"

Conor pulled it free, but in the insanity dropped it down the steps where it settled near Vernon's feet.

"Fuck, I dropped it!" he said, kicking at Vernon as his claws began to tear at Aiden's pants.

"Aaah! Shit!" Aiden said, as Vernon tore into the flesh of his shin. He pulled hard on the hammer, smashing Vernon's face against the metal rail, splitting top of the man's head down the middle. "Fuck you, Vernon!"

Then Trish was racing past the brothers. She flew down the steps, kneeled at her father's feet and grabbed the screwdriver. Standing on her tiptoes, she drove the tip of it into her father's right eye, looking away as the fluid emerged and ran down his cheek. She was crying hysterically as she did the same to Vernon's other eye.

Suddenly Aiden's hammer slipped from Vernon's skull and the zombie stumbled backward, releasing its grip on his leg. Vernon's flailing arms narrowly missed pulling Trish down the stairwell, instead tearing a clump of her hair out as he fell.

"We gotta go now," Aiden said, rushing past Conor and down the steps, dripping hammer still in his fist. Together the three made it to the landing where Vernon rolled around like a dog hit by a truck. Arms and legs slapped up against the walls as he screamed, chomping at the air. They carefully ran past the blinded zombie and took the steps two at a time.

They could hear the horde behind the door for floor number two and they quickened their pace, nearly tumbling down the last two flights to reach the main level.

Bursting out into the reception area, they took a quick glance down the hall and sprinted through the lobby and into the parking garage. At once a steady, thumping sound filled the air and they looked to one another with uncertainty. It grew louder and louder, the source of the sound closer.

"That's a helicopter," Conor said just before a deafening crash shook the entire structure, loose chunks of concrete falling to the ground. In the distance they could see the silhouettes of dozens of zombies charging from between the parked vehicles toward the wreckage outside.

"Conor! Aiden!" someone called out. They turned toward the voice, seeing Klaus leaning out of a white van, waving his arm. The trio ran quickly and dove inside the sliding door, pulling it closed behind them.

"You're okay. Just keep quiet," Klaus whispered, putting a finger to his lips. Bobo was crouched in the front seat, doing his best to hotwire the van.

Conor slapped Klaus on the back with relief.

"Whatever crashed out there has their attention for the time being. Let's hope that's a big enough distraction to let us get the hell out of here," Klaus said, taking a glance out the window.

"All right, ya'll. Should be good to go," Bobo said, touching some wires together. The engine stuttered and then started, Bobo pressing the accelerator pedal lightly a few times. He shuffled over to the driver's seat and put the van in gear. "Lock everything up and hold on."

He put the van in reverse and backed out of the parking spot, glancing around to see if they were attracting attention. He pulled out and down the aisle toward the exit. They could see the massive plumes of black smoke drifting down the street outside and groups of the undead moving quickly from right to left to investigate.

"Punch it, Bo," Conor said from the backseat.

The tires squealed as Bobo tore out of the parking garage and swung out onto the street, picking up speed and turning the heads of the monsters that had assembled there. He weaved the van in and out of stalled and burned-out vehicles, knocking several zombies aside as he accelerated.

He made a right, looming office buildings at either side and immediately slammed on the brakes. Ahead were thousands of zombies moving toward them down the street, shoulder-to-shoulder, hunger in their faces.

"Damn..." Bobo cursed and slapped the gearshift into reverse. Tires howled again as he pulled away, wrenching the steering wheel sharply to the right, back tires jumping up on the sidewalk. He stomped on the gas, leaving the throng behind and searching out a new escape route. "Gotta be a way outta this nightmare!"

"Just relax, Bo," Klaus said, gripping the dash as the van lurched from side to side. "Just don't drive into a dead-end. We'll make it out."

The low thuds of zombies striking the van sounded out as they headed down the street once more. It seemed that every side street was sealed off with mangled cars and the rubble of destroyed buildings. They passed several more blocks, noticing a dark column of smoke just ahead and zombies moving down the sidewalks toward it.

In moments they arrived on the scene, a massive fire burning out of control along the fronts of three buildings and a huge tractor trailer jutting out from the front windows of the nearest. Just as they slowed to take it all in, the truck exploded violently, rocking the van nearly over on its side, chunks of concrete raining down on its roof as it righted itself.

The explosion had blown a path through the stalled vehicles and Bobo smashed down the accelerator and raced through it, orange flames licking at the side of the van as they passed.

To their right, a group of people ran at full speed, maddened zombies on their heels.

"Don't you fucking stop," Trish said from the back. Everyone looked at her in shock with Bobo nodding vigorously in agreement.

"Don't fuckin' plan to, shorty," he said and ignored the coming massacre now behind them. The unbridled destruction of the city became quickly evident as they pulled away and neared the entrance ramp to the highway. The undead were everywhere, Bobo having to avoid them, swerving left then right. From somewhere they heard sirens and horns as if a squad of police cars were on the move.

"Just get away from downtown as fast as possible," Aiden said and Bobo nodded.

"Looks like the way ahead is pretty clear," he said, adjusting the rearview mirror as he pulled on to highway 70.

At long last, the survivors were able to relax somewhat, sinking back in their seats, able now to finally close their eyes and rest.

"What you got there, Conor?" Klaus asked as he looked back, pointing to the canvas bag still slung over Conor's shoulder.

"Oh, shit. Food and drink, guys!" Conor answered and began removing various edibles and passing them out.

"Hell, yeah!" Bobo said. "Toss something up here, yo. Belly's rumblin'"

There was enough for each of them to have a solid meal and a soda, each thanking Conor repeatedly for supplying it.

Bobo now had the van up to about 60mph, the ride now relatively smooth as they frequency of abandoned vehicles and zombies thinned out.

"Where we headin'?" Bobo asked, glancing back at the others.

"We both live in St. Charles," Aiden said. "I'd like to get home, see what's left, if anything. My girlfriend..."

"Understood," Bobo said. "You let me know which way when we get closer."

"You got it."

Aiden looked over at Trish, who sat with her knees pulled up, staring down at the seat. She seemed so full of grief.

"You gonna be all right?" he asked her.

She did not reply.

"Trish? You okay?"

"Not really, no..." she said. "I mean, is this shit real? Is all this really happening?"

"I wish it weren't," said Aiden. "Trish, what happened to Mina?" Aiden asked, dreading the answer.

Trish shook her head in grief, tears rolling down her face to drip on the leather upholstery.

"I watched him eat her..."

CHAPTER FIVE

"Oh, my God..." Klaus said and everyone followed his gaze out the window. On their right, they could see the airport, partially obscured by a thick and grey haze. Out on the runway sat a long Southwest jet absolutely surrounded by an army of zombies. Passengers struggled to remove the blow-up slide as the undead clumsily attempted to climb. It looked as if the plane had landed with the pilots unaware of the danger that had taken over the ground below.

Apparently the crew had opened the doors when they had found all gates occupied, the passengers ordered to disembark, when they were attacked. They had most likely lost radio communication and had put the jet down only to see the mass of monsters come forward, blocking all access to the terminal building.

Those in the van could hear the faint retort of gunfire, possibly the air marshal doing his best to defend the plane. It would prove futile.

So great were their numbers that the zombies began to spin the plane by the sheer weight of their bodies. As the building moved between the van and the plane, for a moment they could see into the cockpit, see the expressions of sheer terror on the faces of the pilots. Then, thankfully, the scene was hidden from their view.

"Holy shit..." Conor said, shaking his head. "These things are everywhere. The videos online, all true. That means this shit is worldwide."

"What do they want?" Trish asked, now wrapped in a blue jacket she had found in the back of the van.

"The zombies?" Aiden asked.

"Yeah. Why are they doing this?"

"Their minds are gone. They seem like animals, just driven to kill..." said Aiden.

"Not only kill," Trish added, involuntarily twisting her long hair in her fingers. "Driven to eat us. Eat everyone."

Aiden nodded.

"Seems so," he said.

"My Dad couldn't fight off one of those things and he was a pretty tough guy. How do we stay alive with hundreds of thousands of them out there? We're dead. Just a matter of time..."

"You givin' up, shorty?" Bobo called back. "You shoulda given me yo sandwich, then. Why we wastin' food on a dead girl?"

She was silent for some time, arms crossed over her chest and biting her lip.

"I'm not giving up," she eventually said. "But be realistic. These things are hard to kill. Seems inevitable that they'll catch us or trap us somewhere..."

"You
want
to live, Trish. You've proven that," Conor interjected. "You saved Aiden and I. You fought when you could've have easily surrendered."

She looked away, staring out the window at the warzone that flew by.

"St. Charles - ten miles, ya'll," Bobo said, pointing at the road sign as they passed it. The highway dipped down into a valley, an industrial area called Earth City, seeming mostly deserted by the living and the undead.

Ahead, on the shoulder of the road, could be seen a school bus, leaning to one side, a tire gone flat. As Bobo drove past, some thirty or so children could be seen within, the driver standing and addressing them. Klaus could see the bus door open and the driver, a thin, middle-aged woman, step out to inspect the tire.

Then, across the field, a large group of zombies emerged from the shadow of the buildings, making their way toward the bus.

"Fuck. Bobo, stop," Klaus said, his forehead against the window as he watched the coming massacre unfold.

"Wha-? Hell, nah!" Bobo replied.

"They don't know what's coming, man. They're all gonna die if we don't warn them. Stop the van!" yelled Klaus.

Bobo glanced behind at Conor and Aiden.

"It's a bunch of kids, Bo. We gotta stop. We gotta help them," Conor explained.

"This is bullshit. Those dead muthafuckahs get too close, I'm scootin'" Bobo said and let the van drift over to the shoulder of the road. He put it in reverse and began to back toward the bus, the driver looking up and waving in gratitude.

"Too many of them," Trish said. "How are we gonna save them all? They can't all fit in here."

They reached the bus and Klaus threw the door open, jumping out and rushing toward the woman as she struggled with the tire tool, the growing shadow of the horde drawing closer to the north.

"Lady, get back in the bus!" Klaus shouted.

She looked at him, puzzled.

"Changing the tire, buddy. What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Just stop!" Klaus said and pointed across the field. "In no time you'll have to deal with that! They'll be here in no time! Get back in the bus, like I said!"

"But the tire. What... what is that anyway?"

"Zombies. Yes, they're real. Those things are coming to kill you and the kids. Listen to me, please. Get in the bus and drive away on the flat. I know it's hard to believe, but this is just like the movies."

"Wha... you're joking-"

"I'd say you've got about sixty seconds to decide. If you're not driving, I will. I'm not gonna let all these kids die-"

"You're
not
joking, are you?
You're dead serious
," she said, her face growing intense.

Klaus nodded.

"Go. Now," he said as she backed up the steps and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Klaus! Come on!" Conor screamed from the van as Klaus ran back and climbed inside. They could hear the deep rumble of the bus as it started up and began to roll onto the highway. Despite the flat, it picked up speed quickly, moving away, children staring out the windows in horror. By the looks of them, they were barely ten years old.

Bobo stomped on the gas just as the first of the zombies reached the shoulder behind them, cinders and gravel spraying from the tires as he took off in pursuit of the bus. He exhaled loudly, checking the rearview mirror as the undead began to pour onto the highway.

"Shhhi.... that was close..." he said, relaxing somewhat in the seat.

"Good job, Klaus," Aiden said, slapping him on the shoulder. Then through the front window he could see the bus suddenly swerve to one side, then the other, tires screeching as the driver tried to correct it.

"Fuck!" Bobo shouted, hitting the brakes hard as the bus spun completely sideways, smoke rising as the tires skidded across the asphalt. The tire that had gone flat was now completely missing, the wheel assembly sparking as it scraped along the highway.

Out of control, the bus violently struck a group of abandoned vehicles with a thunderous crunch of metal and glass, the tires on its right side coming off the ground for a moment and dropping back down with a heavy bounce. Immediately smoke and flames could be seen rising from beneath the crumpled hood.

Bobo kept the van under control and stopped it close to the rear of the bus, several children standing with their hands against the windows and tears in their eyes.

"Goddamn..." Bobo mumbled, shaking his head in frustration. He threw the door open and ran to the back door of the bus.

"Open the door!" he called out, jumping up on the bumper. The kids retreated in fear, not trusting the crazed stranger and in shock from the crash. "Open the door! I'm trying to help you!"

They backed away even farther.

"Mutha-" he shouted and ran around the vehicle to the side door, now twisted and half-open. The driver now lay over the dash, upper body on the hood of the bus, massive pool of blood running away from her crushed head. Bobo threw the door to the side, fragments of glass tumbling to the ground as he bounded up the steps and down the central aisle.

He frowned at the sprawled little bodies of children who had died on impact. Ignoring it as best he could, he moved to the back door, shoved the lever and kicked it wide open.

"Ya'll need to get off the bus, okay? It's not safe here. Engine's on fire. My friends will help you."

The side door of the van slid open and Conor, Aiden, Klaus and Trish waved them over with forced smiles on their faces.

They knew the zombies were on their way.

"It's okay, honey," Trish said, reaching out to take a little girl's trembling hand.

"My backpack!" the girl shouted, turning to go back for it.

"No, honey! Just leave it," Trish said, stepping out of the van, arms outstretched.

"I got it," called out a boy from deeper inside the bus. He stepped out and handed the pink backpack to the girl who then climbed into the van. The boy, who appeared to be about ten years old, crossed his arms with a smug look.

"Ya know, this situation is exactly what our parents warn us about. You want us to get into a van full of strangers? You gonna tell us you got candy in there as well?" he said.

"No one is going to hurt you, buddy," Aiden said. "No one in this van. There are things coming this way that will, though. You seem pretty smart. Look, something has happened to the world and we are all in danger. Please, help us get the rest of the kids inside before it's too late."

"Danger?" the boy asked, helping another child step into the van, which was quickly becoming filled to the brim. "You mean like aliens? Killer robots? Are you talking Pacific Rim stuff?"

Aiden gave him a grin.

"Let's just get everyone in the van and I'll explain everything, okay?" he said.

It seemed that only nine children had survived the crash and they jammed themselves into the seats, squashed up against one another, several sitting on the laps of the adults.

"Everybody in?" Klaus asked, turning to survey the situation. Decaying arms struck his window, sending a jagged crack through the glass and startling everyone in the vehicle. "Ah! Bo, get us out of here!"

At the same time, multiple zombies attacked the sides of the van, rocking it to and fro. Bobo threw it into reverse and pulled away from the wrecked bus, now besieged by the monsters that had begun to feast on the recently deceased.

There were so many surrounding them that the van slowed considerably as it struck them, throwing the kids about. The windows were immediately filled with the gruesome faces of the undead and the children began to scream and cry, which only seemed to encourage the zombies. Rolling and unfocused eyes stared in, slimy and gore-covered hands painting the glass in reds and browns as they reached for any entry point.

"Damn, there's just too many of 'em!" Bobo shouted, slipping the van into drive and pulling the wheel to the left. Zombies were pushed aside, many falling to be trampled by the others or pulled beneath the grinding tires.

"Mommy! I want my mommy!" cried a little girl, no more than eight years of age and Trish tried to comfort here amid the madness.

Conor stared at the bloody ocean of faces on the other side of the glass, his heart pounding as he clenched the hammer. If they could not escape and soon, there was no chance for any of them. They were too far outnumbered. Even with an unlimited supply of guns and ammo, they would be overtaken.

"Come on, Bo!" he called out.

"I'm tryin', brutha! It's like hittin' a wall!" said Bo, pulling the steering wheel right, then left, the motor roaring as sweat dripped into his eyes. There were now four zombies atop the hood, pounding on the front windshield, eyeing the passengers, longing to taste of their flesh.

The sound of a motorcycle reached them, though they could not see it. It raced past on the other side of the highway, loud enough to distract some of the horde, who stumbled away to investigate the rumbling noise. The van lurched forward, tires spinning on the remains of those that had fallen and then catching on the asphalt, screeching as they found traction. Bobo put the pedal to the floor, knocking dozens of creatures away as he saw a clearing ahead and aimed the nose of the van at it.

They picked up speed, the zombies that clung to the windshield tumbling off, one leaving its hand entangled in the wipers, its fingers still opening and closing.

"Hell, yeah! We're free!" Bobo said, wiping his forehead and checking the side mirrors, watching the smoking bus grow small behind them.

"Yes!" Klaus chimed in, slapping Bobo on the arm.

"Now, we ain't stoppin' fo shit. I don't care who's in trouble," Bobo said, his smile fading as the distant sound of automatic gunfire erupted ahead of them. They had almost reached the Missouri River and the bridge that spanned it, now lined with dozens of police vehicles, the officers firing their guns into the gathering clusters of monsters that had begun to encroach on them.

Bobo stopped in front of the roadblock and rolled his window down as an officer stepped over to him.

"Can we get across, officer?" Bo asked. "Just rescued a bunch o' kids from a bus. We need to get 'em somewhere safe."

The cop nodded, throwing his AR15 assault rifle over his shoulder.

"One thing - if you go across, there's no comin' back," he said, then his radio barked out a few sentences. "Yep, we have orders to pull back to the other side. Looks like they're blowin' the bridges. I'll pull the car up and you go through. Guess you just made it in time, huh? I feel sorry for any poor soul caught on this side."

He jumped inside his squad car and pulled it forward to create a passage over the bridge, which Bobo quickly navigated, bringing them to the other side of the river. Gathered on the opposite end were many military vehicles, soldiers working feverishly near the supports for the bridge spans, evidently placing explosives that would soon bring it all down.