Forest Park: A Zombie Novel (21 page)

“GOAL!” the blonde girl yelled, as she ran in circles in celebration.

Crack!

Another shot.

“Fuck! That’s definitely not one of ours,” said Lieutenant Anderson.

The main gates of Fort Gillem were at meltdown. The first shot Tyler and Anderson had heard hit Corporal Tenant Jones between his eyes, sending the debris of his broken skull over the dozen or more refugees standing near him.

The mortally wounded Jones fell backward from the wooden box he was using to stand on while overseeing the refugees who had lined up outside the gates. Jones toppled into the crowd, which was now surging in panic while his comrades, unable to help him, watched his body be trampled into the earth as Fort Gillem’s gates were forcibly flung open by a desperate herd of refugees.

A few seconds later --- CRACK!

Private Taylor collapsed to the ground at the sound of the second shot; most of his lower jaw was missing. Williams, who was inspecting the refugees before their admission to the base, ducked for cover behind the main wall of the gates. There was nothing he could do to stop the crowd, who were now pouring through the gates, and onto the base.

Williams had no idea where the shots had come from. Sitting with his back to the wall, he thought about his options, but quickly concluded there was only one practical course of action he could take.

Williams began to raise his head...

CRACK!

The bullet impacted Williams’s helmet causing him to drop his weapon and fall to the ground. The fallen assault gun was then quickly seized by one of the refugees who was now storming the base.

Williams attempted to get to his feet, but fell down again when someone pushed him from behind.

“Get their guns!” someone yelled as Williams felt himself being tugged in several directions at once.

“Let me go...” was the last thing Williams said before being knocked unconscious.

The next person Williams saw was Anderson, who was working on him in the back of the Humvee, bandaging his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Williams asked Anderson; his speech slurred.

Anderson was in mid conversation with someone else, but then answered, “About time you came about.”

Williams replied, “Huh?”

“We’re abandoning the Fort. The cages went down. The whole fucking thing turned to shit.”

“Down, what happened? I mean, why?” asked Williams, as his head throbbed like never before.

“Fucking mayhem happened, that’s what happened. They were well organized, both inside, and outside. I don’t know how they had done it, but they fucking did.”

“What about my guys, are they all right?” asked Williams.

“You and I don’t have any more guys,” Anderson said and then paused for a moment. “They’re all gone, Williams, dead. They were on us before we could do anything.”

“Who were they?” asked Williams.

“People, ordinary people.”

“Why would they do that?” Williams asked as the Humvee hit a bump. “Jesus, whose driving this?”

“Is everything all right back there?” Tyler said as he swerved to avoid what Williams assumed was another pothole.

“Never been better,” Williams answered.

“Good to hear,” Tyler said as he missed another body an inch. “Can’t talk now, though, I’ll let the lieutenant fill you, in,” he said as the Humvee bounced into the air after hitting a pair of unattached legs.

“After the cages collapsed the dead were everywhere,” Anderson said, “it created a snowball effect. More and more of them rose. The situation became untenable after they assaulted the armory.”

“The dead?”

Anderson shook his head from side to side. “The people we tried to protect.”

* * *

“Man, did you see that!” a short, bald man said, who before everything had gone to hell was an accountant at a small local firm in Forest Park. Now he held an M16A4 assault rifle combined with a grenade launcher, and cheered as a brick building went up in flames after a massive explosion blew its walls apart in a thousand different directions.

The blast killed several innocent civilians and barely contributed to the falling down of an infected, let alone dispose of one.

“Dude, where the fuck did you find that gun? Give me a turn, hey?” someone yelled.

“Get your own,” the bald man said, not bothering to turn around to see who had spoken to him.

“Watch out for the gas pumps,” someone else shouted among the crowd.

“Watch out yourself!” the bald man answered as he took aim at a dead one which was walking toward him. It would have been an easy shot for someone with a modicum of training.

The small bald man let the assault rifle rip, not caring where he was shooting. Who the fuck cares? Soldiers, Dead fucks, he thought. He switched his new toy to full auto and slammed a few rounds into the creatures’ chest and head. However, most of the rounds he fired missed and went whizzing by their dead target and through into the growing clouds of smoke, hitting anyone and anything obscured behind it.

“Fuckin’ yeah!” he screamed.

The area around tent city had become a blood bath as the Dead attacked and tore their victims to pieces, and thousands of rounds pierced the air in every direction.

As Tyler ran from the administration building, a bullet slammed into a step just below his feet.

A militiaman with an assault rifle gave him an apologetic smile and then continued to fire toward the broken cages on full auto.

“Stop it!” Tyler said, but his voice was lost to the chaos.

“Stop firing,” he tried again as he leaped from the administration steps, running toward the militiaman who fired off another burst.

When Tyler reached the man, he let fly with a right hook to the side of the man’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. As the man fell he continued to fire, accidently shooting a woman and a boy.

The militiaman lay on his side, looking up at Tyler. “What the fuck!” he said. “We’re on the same side...”

At that moment, the refueling station blew, and it was over.

ON THE ROAD

“I said, are we going yet,” Susan repeated.

Tyler looked back to her. “In a moment.”

“I can’t guarantee that the station will still be pumping, but I know the back roads,” Cook offered.

Tyler nodded. “Good. You can ride with us until we get there.”

“What about Charlie and I?” Susan asked.

“What about you and Charlie?” Tyler answered.

“Are Charlie and I supposed to ride alone in the truck without any protection?” Susan asked.

“You’ll be fine. You heard the man. We won’t be long.”

“You’ll be fine! We’ll be fine! It’s all fucking outstanding and tomorrow I’ll win the lottery too!” Susan shrieked at Tyler. “It’s not all fucking fine, Captain.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is I’m standing in the middle of nowhere with a herd of jackasses, who got their asses handed to them by some slow-moving retards. Now I’m out here in the dark on the side of a road, and I’ve had no sleep, because being in a bullshit coma after being shot doesn’t count as a rest! Most of all, I have no confidence in you, Captain, just as the committee had no confidence in you. That’s my problem,” she said.” And now you’re going to leave me alone with that fat fuck for protection?”

“Hey,” said Charlie leaning from the WolfPac’s window.

Susan turned to her cameraman and said, “Hey, fucking what, you great tub of lard, what are you going to do to protect me? Fall on them?”

Charlie leaned back inside the Wolfpac.

“Relax, Miss Shaw,” Cook said, attempting to broker the peace.

“You want me to relax?” she said, now looking at Cook. “Screw you! I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a pretty stressful day.”

Tyler put his hands on his hips. “Cook, climb in the Humvee,” he said, doing his best to stay calm.

“What about me?” Susan said. “I deserve the same protection.”

Tyler stared at her in disbelief. “Miss Shaw, he’s going to show us the way to a gas station, pure and simple.”

“So can I ride with you? Charlie can follow behind by himself; he’ll be all right. You have plenty of space in that hot-wheels car of yours. Because it’s either I go with you, or you can give me a gun.”

Tyler broke into a fit of laughter.

“You have a snowball’s chance in hell with either traveling with me, or of getting your hands on a gun, Miss Shaw,” Tyler said as he brushed past her. “In fact, this conversation is over.”

Cook followed behind Tyler, as Susan stood alone in the glowing headlights of the Wolfpac,

“You can’t talk to me like that!”

“I just did and I don’t doubt that I will do so again very soon, Miss Shaw,” Tyler said as he continued to walk away.

“What about some protection; I need a gun,” Susan demanded.

Tyler opened the Humvee’s door and turned to face her in the same motion. “I would give you one, Miss Shaw, but I’m afraid that if I do, Charlie there,” he pointed back to the Wolfpac as he said it, “might be tempted to use it on you,” he said with a smile.

“I wouldn’t stand out there for too long anyhow, Miss Shaw,” he continued. “You’re a sitting duck outside in the dark on a deserted road.” After a walk back to her truck, Susan slammed the door to the Wolfpac and said to Charlie, “Charlie, you know I didn’t mean what I said out there. I was just ribbing you --- people like the captain respect tough talk. I couldn’t think of anyone else I would feel safer with.” She put her hand on his leg and gave him a wink.

Charlie smiled. “Thanks, Susan. I knew you wouldn’t have meant it.”

“Hey, we’re a team,” Susan said as she rubbed her head.

She didn’t feel right; she didn’t feel well at all.

STEVE AND KATHY

“Just open the door for Christ’s sake!” Kathy said in a terrified voice.

Steve suddenly disappeared from her sight. “Steve!”

“I dropped the key,” he said from under the Dodge.

“You dropped the key?”

“I dropped the key. I didn’t mean to,” Steve answered Kathy as the Dead Stevie Wonder placed a bloodied right hand on the tail-lights of the truck, smearing it with a bloody print as he moved closer to Kathy.

Steve shoved his arm further under the vehicle until he could almost touch the key, which lay a little to Kathy’s side of the center.

Clenching his teeth, Steve tried to stretch a little further... but he couldn’t reach them.

He then tried to visualize his fingers stretching outward toward the keys; he could almost feel the cartilage in his fingers expand.

God, please give me a fucking miracle. I’ve never asked you for a goddamn thing --- shit! I take that back. I’ve never asked you for anything before, help me. Please help me right now. But he still couldn’t reach the key.

Turning to his side, Steve bumped his head against the side of the Dodge. As he yelped with pain, he saw, to his horror, a myriad of slow-moving feet coming closer toward them.

I’m running out of time --- fucking stretch, you fat prick!

It was then Steve thought of his best idea since marrying Kathy...

Brilliant! Steve sucked in his stomach as far as it would go, and tried again to squeeze under the Dodge a few inches more while his foot waved about in the air tempting fate. He was just about there.

I’ve almost got it...

He could feel the key...

Suck it in!

At that very moment, something touched his boot.

“Oh, Fuck!”

“Steve, watch out!” Kathy said as she turned in her husband’s direction and saw one of the creatures grappling with his boot, and surprisingly without much success.

“Get up!”

It was too late; the thing was practically on top of him.

Steve, quicker than he could have ever imagined, slid out from under the Dodge and lay on his back staring up at the disfigured and terrifying thing that stood over him.

Without a second thought, Steve sat up as the Undead thing stood motionless, drooling and snarling, and reached for his baseball bat in the dark, found it and swung it upward, and into the thing’s chin --- toppling it over.

“Are you all right? Can you open the door?” Kathy said.

“I don’t have the key. You’ll have to get the fucking thing,” he said to Kathy, whose heart sank when she heard what he had said.

The key is just going to have to wait; Kathy thought as Stevie Wonder launched at her from the side...

In a free-flowing motion, Kathy removed her --- thankfully heavy --- backpack and swung it to the face of Mr. Wonder, knocking him backward and sending the look-a-like Motown legend sprawling to the ground.

She then stormed the prostrate figure like a rugby player and slammed her backpack into its skull repeatedly.

“Take that, you fucking dead prick!” she said.

On the other side of the truck, Steve, now on his feet, swung his bat with as much energy as he could muster to keep the other ghouls at bay, while Kathy begun to start kicking her attacker in the face, smashing its teeth. Her rage was absolute; it was total.

She pounded away while Steve swung until the surrounding ghouls were nothing but a bloody mess. Kathy’s head spun with a blood lust that she never knew that she had, it was as if she was in a dream. Kathy’s mind began to drift away, to drift into another dimension of her being, falling, deep down, into humanities base love of slaughter. She felt pure and energetic, alive with the euphoria of power, uncorrupted and unconcerned with mercy.

“Kathy, reach for the damned key!”

She didn’t hear Steve, as she continued to pound away at the dead flesh.

“Kathy, get the fucking key!” Steve tried again

As quick as the blood lust had begun, it stopped, and she looked over toward Steve, who was swinging away with everything he had in the tank.

The key, get the key...

As she knelt, Kathy heard a loud crack as Steve smashed open another skull.

Getting down on her belly, she reached under the Dodge in the dark. Feeling the key, she pressed the unlock button and the doors unlocked. Sliding back out from under the Dodge, Kathy grabbed her backpack, which gore now covered, and opened the door, throwing her backpack in the rear cabin. Leaping into the passenger seat, she leaned over and opened Steve’s door for him, giving it a nudge to force it open. However, by now Steve was in the middle of their yard, raining blow upon blow on any Dead thing that came near him.