Forest Park: A Zombie Novel (28 page)

Tyler couldn’t be trusted; they couldn’t be left alone together.

Anderson was too weak, as well as being very pliable. Hell! I’ve proven that.

“Just check the damn house, Lieutenant,” she heard Tyler say as if he was a million miles away.

She looked at Anderson, and she could see by the look on his face that he was considering what Tyler had said. “Don’t listen to him, Anderson, you’re in command. He’s killed enough of us already.”

“Oh, you can talk,” Tyler said.

Susan pistol-whipped him. “Shut it,” she said. “Listen to me, Anderson. You have to follow your plan. You know it’s the right choice. We’ll make contact in town; we might even find more people to help us, someone with a cell phone that works. A computer maybe and God knows what else?”

Anderson nodded his head, agreeing with her.

“Bad decision,” Tyler said as he wiped the blood draining from his mouth.

“Shut up, Captain. Just shut up. This is why you’re hopeless to deal with and impossible to follow. You don’t listen. You’ve ignored every valid idea I’ve had since the start. Now I have a plan, a good plan, and we’re going to go through with it with or without your help,” Anderson answered.

“Okay, whatever... at least untie me,” Tyler said.

“He’ll untie you when hell freezes over,” Susan answered Tyler.

“I’ll untie you when we’re somewhere safer and in a place I know you can’t cause any trouble. Until then, sit tight.”

“Safer?”

Anderson turned to Susan. “I’ll check the street, after that we’ll move on out,” he said and subsequently stepped through the hedge.

“Luck,” Charlie said.

* * *

Anderson’s SiG 9mm’s nose poked through the hedge, a moment later Anderson placed his foot on the pavement as if emerging from nowhere.

He could feel the heat of the fire, as soon as he stepped out into the open.

His heart was beating in a wild rhythm, when suddenly a dark shadow began to envelope him.

This isn’t right, he hastily thought.

Before Anderson could scream, he felt something bite the left side of his face, and then another bite just above his boot line.

How could I not see two of them? He thought to himself as his cheek peeled away and the stench of his second attacker almost overpowered him.

Flesh, dead burned flesh.

He saw them; they were both burned black, almost to cinders. Their cooked flesh hid them from him in the pre-morning darkness.
Anderson toppled backward and fell into the yard with one of his attackers still latching onto him. The Dead thing reached for him once more, as everybody moved out of the way.

Then Anderson heard a shot.

Immediately, the pain was gone.

“Help me,” he tried to scream, while Tyler tumbled backward, and asked to be untied.

Susan held her gun steadier, ignoring her heart fluttering in panic; her finger was still on the trigger.

The shot Susan fired had severed Anderson’s spine at precisely below the neck. Anderson attempted to move his legs, but couldn’t.

He attempted to raise his arms to throw the thing from him, but they refused to move.

He couldn’t feel anything, except for the excruciating pain of his disfigured face as the thing tore another strip of flesh from him. The other Dead thing crawled through the hedge and slid into the yard as Susan stepped away from Anderson, leaving him as her sense of control spiraled down.

Then unexpectedly, Susan ran, leaving everyone behind.

Charlie, on seeing Susan run away, little by little lifted himself to his feet and followed her into the dark. Tyler sighted Anderson’s SiG lying on the ground near the gnashing teeth of the crawling dead man.

He rapidly thought about making a snatch for it, but he then decided against it as something in the back of his mind shouted,
Run, Louis, run!

He did.

Lieutenant Anderson lay on his back looking up into the dawning sky.

He saw the stars begin to fade with the morning light, until they finally disappeared behind a dark shadow, like an eclipse. He then felt a bony finger being pushed into his right eye socket, slowly forcing the eye back into his skull. The tip of the finger touched the back of his cheekbone.

Then the finger was gone.

Anderson lay there alone as the grass overgrew him in time, and the hedge blossomed.

ACROSS THE WAY

Cook looked up at the sky.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What’s wrong?”

Cook looked up once more. The moon was hanging low in the sky as the sun rose on the other side of the horizon. It gave Cook a sense of finality as he saw the moon’s deep pock marks and dust-formed lakes with a clarity he had never had before --- a delicate dance of emotion, promise and reality all ensnared in desperation and hopeful venture.

He could forget all of this, the death and the horror. It was his first day in a new world.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked again.

From here on in, I will wake up early and watch every dawn, Cook thought.

“It’s practically light, and if it wasn’t for the haze it would be for sure. We won’t make the firehouse; we need to stop and start again tomorrow.”

“Where do you suggest we hold up?”

Cook pointed ahead. “We could try the grocery store over there; we could gain access by using the back alley.”

“How far are we from the firehouse?” Steve asked.

“It doesn’t matter how far we are,” Cook said, “what matters is we’re tired. It’s nearly light, and I don’t see any of those damn things standing around the alleyway.”

He pointed to the grocery store again.

Steve said nothing.

“I can’t keep moving,” Cook said. “I need to rest. Anyhow, if we’re going to make it to the firehouse, we’ll need to do it after dark, we don’t want those things to see us, and begin schooling up. Like you said before, Steve, they’re dangerous in large numbers.”

“He’s right, we need to take a break,” Kathy said.

Steve rubbed his eyes and yawned, and then they all yawned in unison like a group of fifth graders.

“You win. Let’s rest then,” Steve said. “We’ll hold up in the grocery store, but tonight we move to the firehouse, and then we do what we need to do after that.”

RETREAT

Susan ran headlong into the darkness, not giving a damn for anyone.

She felt like she was a child again, running home in the dark and too afraid to look over her shoulder, fearful that vampires or werewolves were chasing her. God knows, what could be worse? However, she knew there could be worse, vampires, and werewolves weren’t real --- the Dead were. She could almost feel their bony fingers reaching out for her, trying to clutch her by the shoulder as she hurtled forward trying desperately to escape into the smoky haze!

Then it suddenly hit her. Where am I?

She had to stop, she had to stop running before she ran into something.

Something dead.

“Susan. Stop!” It was Charlie.

Quickly looking back, she saw him lumbering behind, quickly losing distance.

“Stop, please don’t leave me!” he said.

He sounded out of breath.

Leaving! She wasn’t going to leave him, she couldn’t be alone.

She just needed to run.

Tyler bolted out from the yard, his hands still tied.

Even so, at least he wasn’t lying on his back on the grass like Anderson.

That was something at least.

In the distance, he saw Charlie trying to catch Susan, but instead he came to a grinding halt. No longer able to run?

He was crying out to her, calling for her to stop.

The fool, Tyler thought. She wouldn’t stop, not unless it was in her own interests.

Tyler reconciled himself to let him go; they both can go and fuck themselves. I can’t help him. What option do I have? Which direction should I go?

He chose the flames.

Zigzagging, Tyler ran down the road.

With his hands tied, he struggled to keep his balance.

The closer he neared the flames, the more powerful the scent of burned human flesh became.

He had to keep his mind clear, basic training, and a simple process of thoughts.

There are always options.

If something comes at you, move and evade. Think and run, stay running.

The sky was becoming lighter; the night was nearly over, he thought.

His limited choices were basic --- evade and hide.

As he ran, he leaped the scattered remains beneath him: near destroyed bodies, arms, legs and torsos. Heads and faces ripped from burning skulls.

People --- Dead people --- non-Dead people --- whatever!

He slipped on the blood and flesh, but retained his balance as he passed the burning gas station, each bounding leap taking something out of him.

He saw a face.

A head and face, no body, but the eyes... they watched him.

Fuck, he thought.

The processing of his thoughts struggled to stay clear and precise. To his right he saw a burning vehicle, which had come to rest in the park. Piercing its bonnet was the .50 caliber machine gun.

Wow, he thought as he ran into the park.

Charlie was out of breath, and Susan was gone.

She was out there somewhere in the haze.

Charlie was feeling scared and alone.

Although not for long, Susan is coming back for me, she won’t leave me --- but he couldn’t see her.

He heard footsteps coming from his left, moving with a shuffle. More than one person? And then a mournful groan.

Behind him, he heard the rustle of bushes.

It wouldn’t be long until the Dead came out and searched for him. Suddenly in front he heard something else; it was more shuffling and a moaning.

“Susan?” he whispered.

Nothing.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the flames of the gas station and the faint image of someone running.

Tyler?

He stepped backward. “Susan, are you there?”

More sounds came from his left, and then from his right as the shuffling picked up speed.

Groaning.

Then he saw one.

To his left a middle-aged man in the tattered remains of his nightclothes came shuffling out of the dying darkness and haze toward him. His shirt was ripped open and covered with blood. His pants were gone, lost some time back as he shuffled, leaving him naked from the waist down.

For a moment, Charlie felt shocked to see the man’s penis.

He stepped away.

He wanted to scream, but he was too scared and out of breath.

Then unexpectedly someone struck him.

Charlie squealed in panic and came close to fainting.

I’m dead, he thought. Not now, not me. “I don’t deserve this.”

He closed his eyes and threw an uncoordinated punch, hoping to take the initiative away from his attacker.

He missed.

“It’s me, you fucking idiot! Open your eyes,” Susan said.

He opened his eyes and saw her face.

He could have cried with elation.

I knew she would come back for me.

Susan, looking over Charlie’s shoulder, saw the waist-down naked man, causing her face to grimace.

“Are you coming?” she said. “I know he would if given half a chance.”

“Where?” Charlie replied.

He sounded like he was lost.

“That way,” she said pointing toward the park, “If you’re coming with me. You better keep up,” she said as she brushed past him. “Now fucking hurry!”

“But I’m no good at power walking,” Charlie said as he followed.

Behind them, the pants less ghoul growled in frustration as his meal walked away from him.

He was coming too, trying his hardest to keep up with both Susan and Charlie.

THE BUNKER

He tried to keep his eyes closed.

He couldn’t.

Rubbing his face while the world rushed on by, Ambrose was wide-awake, he needed to sit and be alone, at least until he could regain his bearings.

He sat half-slouched on a comfy chair nearby the office of the President, by its open door to the hallway.

It was dawn and his first day in the Baseball bunker.

Dawn, according to his watch anyway, no windows, four walls and a door plus some basic furniture.

If he had to describe it to someone, he would have said it was like a doctor’s waiting room, but with no magazines, it could have done with some.

He took a breath and cracked his knuckles.

Ambrose hadn’t seen a mirror, but he was sure he looked like a mess; he was tired and worn out; his clothes crinkled. His face with salt and pepper stubble, no doubt.

He was the picture of a man who required a holiday, but one wasn’t forth coming.

What a roller-coaster ride.

It’s all in the minor details.

Harris! Nothing has happened that he hasn’t predicted or been aware of.

A new President, it was all very dubious; he admitted to himself, everything was all really disconnected, outside of reality, including his own thoughts. Harris knew Shapinkov; he knew of Al Rashid. Did he guess or did he know about Walker? Maybe it was an accident. He normally would have flown with him, just as he flew with Holtz to the bunker.

Somebody stormed past the open door in the opposite direction of the new executive.

Days before, Ambrose would’ve observed every detail about the person that had gone by; their hair, the color of their eyes and facial expression. Maybe even the person’s tailor.

He could have pinpointed where in the country they were born from the way they walked, but today?

No.

When Harris approached Ambrose and stood before him, he had barely noticed him at all. “I meant to speak to you once we had some privacy and now seems like a good time. I have something to tell you, something extremely important and secret. I think you will guess or will come close to guessing very soon. However, first the CDC’s been compromised. This thing was more powerful than even we expected, in spite of the mutation,” Harris said.

Ambrose said, “What?”

“Centre for Disease Control has been compromised.”