Hamsikker: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel (9 page)

Derek looked up at Javier. “Free?” he snivelled. “You’ll let me and Cindy go?”

“That’s not exactly what I said. Listen up, Derek. This is the situation. Your hitchhiking buddy, James, is toast. I had to put him out of his misery. He would’ve bled to death. I took no pleasure in doing so, but it was better to put him down now than let him take hours to go. Plus, he would’ve come back, and that’s no way to be.

“I have plans for Cindy, so to answer your ridiculous question, no, you are not both being
set free
. I’m not running a damn shelter, so wind your head in and listen. I can see that you’ve made yourself a little home here. You’ve got four strong walls to keep the dead out, a nice woman, and plenty of food, but your time is up. Understand? It’s over. I am leaving, and I’m taking Rose with me. Which means we are going to be opening those doors, and your house is going to come tumbling down like a pack of cards. The difference between you and me, Derek, is that I am telling the truth.”

Derek’s lips were trembling, and covered in spit. James’ warm blood was splashed across his face. “You’re s..s..sick. He was only fifteen. What did he do to deserve that?” asked Derek. There was no animosity in his tone, no suggestion he could fight back, just a weary resignation that he was next to bite a bullet.

“He came at me like a bull. What was I supposed to do, stand back and let him hit me?” asked Javier. “Look, Derek, that’s not important. The past is the past; all that matters now is what you do next. Your future is in your hands.”

Javier pulled Derek up to his feet, making sure Rose kept an eye on the unconscious Cindy. She did so with a questioning look in her eye, but said nothing. She knew better than to question Javier. Cindy was cut, but not too badly. The wounds were only superficial, and certainly nothing that would cause her any significant problems.

Rose was feeling dissatisfied though, and wanted to get stuck in. It had been too long, and Javier was having all the fun. With any luck, he and Derek would go deal with the zombies leaving them alone. All she wanted was five minutes alone with this bitch, and she would rearrange her face with nothing more than a six inch blade, and a whole heap of enthusiasm.

Javier shoved Derek over to the doorway. Beyond the upturned tables and chairs were the glass doors. Dozens of zombies were now blocking the exit, pounding on the glass, and shuffling around the walls trying to find a way into the diner.

“There’s the door, Derek, all you have to do is walk out, and you’re a free man.” Javier pushed Derek forward.

“Are you insane? I’m not g..g..going out there. They’ll rip me to pieces in s..s..seconds.” Derek began heading back to the kitchen, but Javier raised the gun and pointed it at him.

“Tut-tut, Derek. You take another step toward me, and you’re dead. I’ll just make Cindy go out there. This way, you have a chance. There’s a truck outside. No more than, what, fifty feet? See that tow-truck with the red lettering on the side? You’re going to find out if it has any gas in it. If it does, you have a choice. Get back here, and we can all leave, or take it. Take the truck, and just go. Leave Cindy with us. It’s your call, Derek.” Javier smiled as he pointed the gun at Derek’s head. “Time for you to leave.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The run down the hill was far from easy. Weak and disoriented, Jonas felt like breaking down with every foot he planted on the hard ground. Following the centre line, he knew it would be pointless breaking into one of the buildings at the roadside. The dead could see them, and they would only end up trapped. Instead, he followed the road until they reached the bottom, and then took a hard left, running alongside the municipal swimming baths which offered a little protection by way of its high walls. Opposite it was a row of shops, all decorated with a large canopy that ran the length of the street. The shop windows were dressed for summer, with mannequins dressed in a variety of shorts and swimwear. Besides the clothing stores, Jonas noticed a bathroom supply store, a drycleaners, and a coffee shop. It appeared to be quiet, and so he paused by the baths, crouching down by a graffiti covered wall. He asked if Dakota was okay, and waited for the tail end of the group to catch up. He heard a single gunshot, and then Tyler rounded the corner with Mrs Danick just ahead of him.

“We don’t have long,” said Tyler breathlessly. “I just took out one of the runners. I don’t know if it’s them or us, but something is drawing more out. You can see them coming out of the buildings and cars.”

“Mrs Danick, how’re you doing?” asked Jonas. He could see from her face she was having trouble keeping up the pace.

“Fine. I’d rather die of a heart attack than be eaten by one of those fuckers.” Mrs Danick rubbed Freya’s head, and the little girl snuggled into Pippa’s arms saying nothing. “Sorry, Freya, I didn’t mean to use a bad word.”

Jonas heard Dakota let out a yelp, and her hand gripped his arm. A runner had found them. Emerging from the plumbing shop opposite it came straight across the street toward them. Tyler raised his gun, but Jonas waved him down. “Save it,” he said as he brandished his axe.

As the zombie got close enough to take a chunk out of his arm, Jonas swung the axe and smashed it into the zombie’s head. Spinning out of control, the runner fell to the ground. Jonas was on it instantly, smashing the axe into its skull once more. Shards of bone splintered as the axe chopped its way through the zombies face, and blood spattered Jonas’s shirt. Once the dead man had stopped moving, Jonas faced the group.

“Let’s move.”

Quinn and Dakota began jogging away from the marauding dead, and found themselves dodging more than abandoned cars. Past the swimming baths was a school, and the road was littered with corpses. Most of them were half eaten. Many of the bodies had severe head wounds, suggesting someone had shot a lot of them, and too many of them were children. There were girls and boys still in uniform, and the sickening sight brought Dakota to her knees. So many of the bodies had begun to rot, and several had been reduced to skeletons, with just flaps of tissue caressing the yellow bones.

“Dakota, we can’t stop. We can’t do anything for them,” said Jonas as he helped her up. Pulling her up, he tried to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him. Her face was drawn, and she stumbled along blindly, not answering his questions or responding to his pleas to talk to him. Walking through the street, he could understand why she was withdrawing into herself. It was horrific to see so many dead. As they neared the school’s entrance gates, there was a charred pile of what used to be children. Someone had torched them, and over the last few months, the sun and the rain had melded the burnt bodies into one massive structure, like some kind of twisted monument to what the school used to be.

It was as if the unburied bodies had a disheartening effect on the group, and they slowed down by the gates, eventually coming to a standstill beneath a dying willow tree. Beneath its low branches they stopped, and fell silent. Jonas looked at Dakota, knowing she wouldn’t be able to carry on much further. Terry too looked as though he was about to give up, and the others were hanging on by a thread. It wasn’t so much the physical effort in running, but the mental aspect of seeing so much death, so close. It was draining. It wilted all their hopes, all of their energy, and it felt like they were running nowhere. Jonas felt it too. Every corner they turned, every doorway they ran through only led to more death. He could see Erik and Pippa trying to protect their children from the carnage, but they couldn’t run with their eyes closed, and whilst Peter was old enough to understand, Freya was not. She didn’t look so much scared as comatose. It was as if her brain was tuning out, refusing her mind permission to process the disturbing images she was being forced to look at. Jonas looked down at his feet, and noticed he was standing in a bloodstain. Tracing the dried river of blood back to its owner, he looked at what was once probably a pretty young girl. With a satchel around her shoulders, her face had collapsed in on itself when the bullet had passed through her jaw. She looked more like an old woman now as the weathered pale skin had stretched itself tightly around her bony face. Her once blue eyes, so full of life, were now gone, plucked out by greedy hands, and the sunken sockets were a nest for crawling maggots. A spider ran from the girl’s mouth and rested on her chin briefly before scuttling down her neck and into her ripped blouse. The breeze fluttered her long hair across her forehead, and the ripe smell of death reached Jonas’s nose. Something had eaten away at the rest of her body, and he could feel something building up inside of him. It took a moment to reveal itself, and at first, he wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or scream. His gut ached, his head was like a washing machine on full spin, and his hands were curling up into fists, desperate to hit something. He wanted to find the person responsible for this innocent girl’s grisly death and deal out some retribution for her.

Jonas suddenly felt energised. No way was he going to die like that. No way was he going to let Dakota, or any of the others be left out in the street to die. Randall had been unlucky. Jonas refused to accept the others were going to die like him. He had to do something, to find a way out of this mess.

“Erik, this is Jeffersontown Junior, right?” asked Jonas as he approached Erik.

Through bloodshot, tired eyes, Erik looked up. “Yeah. So?”

Jonas needed to try something, and Erik was his best shot at galvanising the others. “So, at the end of this road is Tucker’s alley, right? From there we take a short cut into Abramson Memorial Park. Try and put some distance between ourselves and the dead chasing us. If we can slip into the park, we might be able to take a breather, maybe give us a chance to figure out where we’re going instead of running around in circles.”

Erik looked at Pippa holding his daughter. He looked back at Jonas and nodded. “The more obstacles between them and us the better. If we take the next right we can cut down Sycamore Street, and across the park,” said Erik.

Quinn joined them, hearing the plan, and was grateful to be able to take her mind off their surroundings. “If we cut through the park we might be able to get to the Interstate. Maybe hitch a ride out of town?”

“I don’t think the buses are running. You know how to hotwire a car?” Erik asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jonas. Knowing that Erik was a cop, Quinn didn’t answer, and it was obvious that she was holding back. Jonas didn’t want them to stop and get into anything. Their individual histories were irrelevant now. The zombies were still after them, and they only had a moment to decide where to head. “Look any vehicle we come across, I expect the batteries are probably dead, and I’m sure the I65 is closed anyway. They were setting up roadblocks when it started, and it’s likely to be one giant car park right now. Our best bet is through Abramson Park, and hope they lose us in these buildings. Erik, remember how we used to cut through the back of Joe’s bar? Instead of Sycamore Street we should go down Tucker’s alley, sneak through the bar, and into the park that way. They couldn’t possibly all follow us if we took the scenic route.”

“Let’s do it,” agreed Erik.

“Sounds like a lot of dark corners and risks to me,” said Quinn. “You sure it’s safe?”

Jonas looked at Erik. “It’s been a while. You want to take point?”

“Gotcha. Everyone follow me. Any trouble, yell. Quinn, you mind tagging along beside me? I could do with a spare pair of eyes. Tyler, you bring up the rear, you have the only other gun, and yes, Mrs Danick, I know you can shoot better than any of us, but we can’t risk you slowing us down. You can cuss me out later. Terry, I need you to help her, okay, buddy?”

Jonas watched the group settle into their roles with ease. Mrs Danick eyeballed Erik, but she said nothing. She could nail a fly’s ass from fifty yards with her pistol, but she wasn’t quick on her feet, and Erik was right. Terry was subdued. He had been close to Randall, and was feeling his loss more than anyone. With the zombies on their tail, they had hardly stopped to think about what had happened. Peter held onto his younger sister, Freya, and Pippa stuck close to Quinn. Jonas rubbed Dakota’s back, and then they were off. He knew that Erik would lead them to the park. It had been so long since Jonas had spent any time in the area, that he trusted Erik more than himself.

As they left the school behind, Jonas saw the dead. They weren’t far away, and their numbers seemed to have swelled. Tyler was right. The noise they were making was only drawing out more. They made it to the end of the street, and Jonas saw Erik turn them down the alley, ignoring Sycamore Street. A dead policeman lay in the middle of the road, and Jonas quickly checked him over. Ignoring the stench, he took a gun from the dead cop’s hand. Running to catch up with the rest, he checked and found the gun still had four in the chamber. Better than a kick in the nuts, he thought, and he rushed to the head of the group to join Erik.

As they jogged down the alley, Jonas half expected something to jump out at them from the shadows. He was on edge, and his stomach was churned up. If he had anything to throw up, he would’ve done so, but like everyone else, his stomach was empty. He saw Erik slip through a wooden gate that led to the back of Joe’s bar, and remembered doing the same thing when he was fifteen. He and Erik would sneak into the back yard, steal a couple of beers, or crates if they could handle it, and then head to the park to drink them under the moonlight. Joe’s bar had been around forever, and the security was non-existent. The rusted, iron railings behind the bar had been twisted and turned almost inside out, so they had created a hole just big enough for them to get through. He didn’t know who Joe was, or who owned the bar today, but it looked from the outside as if nothing had changed. The faded welcome sign was still there, and the exterior of the building clearly hadn’t been painted since prohibition had been repealed. Jonas crept through the gate, and found himself looking at Erik.

“They fixed the damn railings.”

Jonas looked and saw that the rusted iron that had separated the bar from the park for all those years was now a high brick wall. There was no way through it.

“Oh crap.” Jonas handed the cop’s gun to Dakota, and looked at the wall that was barring them from the park. “What about the bar? We could force a way in, hide there a while?”

“No good,” said Peter as he pulled on the door to the rear of the bar. “It’s locked.”

“No telling what might be waiting inside, plus they know we’re here. How long before they get in? It’s too damn risky to stop now,” said Erik.

Two gunshots rang out as Tyler fired back through the gate they had just come. “Two runners,” he said. “Got them, but we need to hurry. I’m out of ammo.” Frustrated, Tyler pocketed the gun hoping to find more ammo later.

“Steady, Tyler,” said Mrs Danick, as she stepped up to the gate. She drew her gun, and aimed it between the gate posts in case of more runners. “You go help fix a way out of here.”

“Tyler, come help,” said Jonas.

Peter was looking after Freya, while Jonas, Erik, Quinn and Pippa were dragging empty beer barrels over to the wall. Tyler grabbed another, and in a minute, they had a dozen lined up, forming a makeshift step. It was just about enough for them to get over.

“Peter, you get over first. Then you can help Freya and Mrs Danick down, okay?” Jonas took Peter’s hand and helped him up onto the barrels. “If you see any trouble on the other side, holler.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll hear me yell if I see anything,” said Peter as he clambered up onto the top of the wall. Sitting astride it, he announced that the park looked clear, and then he dropped down on the other side. There was a soft thud, a grunt, and then Peter shouted that he was okay. Erik and Pippa helped the silent Freya up and over, and then Mrs Danick left her post to go next. She closed the gate behind her, and one by one they filed up over the wall, until just Erik and Jonas were left.

“Go man, I’ll watch your back,” said Erik. “When you’re up top, just give me a pull up and we’re home free.”

Jonas shook his head. “No offense, but I’m not going to be able to pull you up. You go first and pull me up.”

“Shit,” said Erik smirking. “Just because I ain’t got sparrow’s legs like you. Never did carry much weight, did ya?”

“The way I remember it, you’d usually eaten my meal before I could even smell it cooking.” Jonas held out a hand so Erik could get a boost up over the barrels.

“You snooze, you lose,” said Erik as he hoisted himself up. Once he was sitting on the wall, he looked down at Jonas and held out his hand. “Come on then, Hamsikker. Let’s get your bony ass...watch out!”

Jonas whirled around and saw a zombie forcing its way through the gate into the yard. Fumbling for his axe that was laid on the ground, Jonas picked it up to find he was too late. The zombie was already towering over him, its rancid rotted face blocking out the sun. Yellow teeth lined a purple mouth, and Jonas smelt death as the diseased body prepared to fall upon him. With a deafening roar, the zombie’s head exploded, and Jonas was showered with gore. The dead body fell to the ground, and Jonas stood in awe, the axe in his hand now idle and useless.