In the Lone and Level Sands (73 page)

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Authors: David Lovato

Tags: #horror, #paranormal, #zombies, #apocalypse, #supernatural, #zombie, #post apocalyptic, #apocalyptic, #end of the world, #postapocalyptic, #zombie apocalypse, #zombie fiction, #apocalypse fiction, #paranormal zombie, #zombie horror, #zombie adventure, #zombie literature, #zombie survival, #paranormal creatures, #zombie genre, #zombies and magic

BOOK: In the Lone and Level Sands
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There were a good number of vehicles on the
bridge. Some were overturned, some had been charred and destroyed.
A bus lay on its side, a body halfway out of the emergency exit.
But what was in some way more disturbing was the fact that most of
the vehicles were untouched, left in perfect condition, like
furniture in an abandoned house.

“Where do we land?” Dex asked.

“I think I’ll go south a bit more. This
place is busy, it’s probably not safe.”

They sailed for about an hour, and then
Layne saw a beach clear of all but a few bodies. The ground was
flat, and he pulled the yacht close enough to the shore to let the
group safely off. With their bags and things in tow, they headed up
the beach.

They trudged through the sand and onto the
asphalt of a parking lot, where quite a few cars sat in waiting.
There were bodies lying around.

“We need enough passenger space for all of
us,” Layne said. “Be careful. Check the cars for keys, and for
zombies.”

They searched. “Here’s one!” Dex said. It
was a small car, the keys dangled from the ignition. Dex reached
in, checked the back seat, and then turned the key. The car
started. “Plenty of gas, too.”

“Okay, we’ll need another one,” Layne
said.

“There’s a minivan.” Garrett tried the door,
but it was locked.

“Are the keys in there?”

Garrett cupped his hands to the sides of his
head and peered inside. “I don’t think so.”

They checked the rest of the cars, but none
had keys, and all were smaller than the minivan. “Okay, well, the
driver can’t have gotten far,” Layne said.

“You really think we can check all of these
bodies?” Dex replied. “What if the driver drowned?”

“What, he went for a dip with his keys in
his pocket?” Keely said.

“He could’ve been running from zombies.”

“Yeah, the first thing I do when zombies are
chasing me is hop in the ocean. It’s much safer than driving away.”
Layne laughed when Dex’s eyes narrowed; it seemed he finally had
some competition in the sarcasm department.

They checked the closest bodies first. Every
time someone found a key, it was brought to the minivan. All eyes
turned attention to it, and all eyes lost hope when the key
wouldn’t fit.

Dex turned a body over and screamed when it
reached up for him. He scrambled for his gun, the zombie scrambled
for his feet, slowly working its way through the sand. Dex killed
it, but after that he decided not to take part in the search for
the key. Layne reminded everyone to make sure the bodies were
actually dead before searching, and they pressed on.

“Found one!” Katie said. She still sounded
hopeful, but most of the survivors didn’t even look, they just
continued searching bodies. Katie brought the key to the minivan,
and all eyes turned when the engine did. The group celebrated this
small victory, and Layne was glad that they could finally get
moving again.

They piled into the cars, and soon they were
making their way down I-5.

 

****

 

The roads were difficult to navigate. Layne
was glad they had decided to take the yacht; what should’ve only
taken a few hours instead lasted into the next day. They stopped to
sleep in the cars, and in the morning, they resumed their careful
drive. It was nearing eight p.m. when they saw the city lights loom
into view.

The buildings, cars, and zombies increased
by the minute. Layne pulled down an alley and behind a building.
There was a large tower in a fenced area behind the small lot, and
a few dishes on the roof. Only a dumpster and a generator sat in
the lot, which was surrounded on three sides, so it seemed like a
good place to regroup. The sun was nearly gone.

“They’re everywhere,” Garrett said. Layne
nodded.

“You made this sound so easy,” Dex said.

“For starters, we should find out where the
prison is. Think it’ll be on a map?”

“Maybe we should find a safe place, first,”
Ralph said. “We can drop off Kara and Jessi, and anyone else who
doesn’t want to go.”

“Are you including yourself?” Kyle
asked.

Ralph shook his head. “If you need me, I’ll
go with you.”

“I don’t know if anywhere is safe,” Layne
said. He turned to Jessi. “Maybe you should take one of the cars
and get out of here, wait on the outside of town.”

“This alley seems safe. Could we wait
here?”

“You’d be boxed in, if something came down
here,” Warren said.

There was a groan from the end of the alley.
A fat zombie stood there. He stared at them, but didn’t move,
besides swaying slightly to his sides. He seemed uninterested, like
the food wasn’t worth the bother of walking over there.

“A few of the buildings have lights on,”
Layne said. “They must have generators, or something. Maybe we can
find one with power to hole up in.”

“I don’t want a repeat of the hotel
incident,” Katie said. Ralph suddenly turned and looked down the
alley. There was nothing there; the fat zombie had vacated.

“You okay?” Lacie asked.

“I thought I saw something,” Ralph replied.
“It was nothing. Continue.”

Layne ran his hands through his hair. He was
anxious to get to the prison, but finding a safe place was more
important.

“Maybe we could—” Keely’s sentence would
never be finished. Something flew down the alley and into the lot.
It was metallic, and bounced along the ground, then it spat out
smoke in all directions. All visibility was gone, and Layne started
coughing. He reached for something, not even sure what it was, and
then fell to his knees, gasping for air. Kara cried somewhere in
the smoke.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeha!” someone said in a
muffled voice. Shapes moved among the smoke. Layne saw people with
gas masks. Someone grabbed him and yanked him to his feet.

“Look at this fucking haul!” someone said.
“Let’s get these assholes back to base!”

“What about the cars? They got weapons?”

Layne reached for his gun, but the man
holding him beat him across the head with his own, and took
Layne’s. A shot fired into the air as another masked man wrestled
Dex for his gun. Two more jumped him, one of them hit him in the
stomach with a baseball bat. Dex dropped his gun and crumpled to
the ground. Lacie shrieked.

The smoke was starting to disappear, but it
wasn’t easier to breathe. Layne saw his friends being overpowered,
pinned down, or beaten by people in gas masks.

“They got more in the cars!” a woman
said.

“Well, you know what to do,” the first man
said. “Fuck ‘em up!”

The people cleared the supplies from the
cars, then opened fire on them. One man raised his arms for them to
stop. He jumped up on top of the car and began beating in the
windshield with his bat. The others started to push it around, and
the man shouted and hopped off as they tipped the car over.

One of them opened the door of the minivan
and tossed a grenade inside. The area cleared quickly; Layne and
his friends were dragged away, and the minivan exploded, along with
whatever was left of their things. Layne felt lost.

“Okay, let’s head back,” the first man said.
He seemed serious now, like the destruction they had just wrought
was suddenly not funny anymore. “Jones will be happy with us, but
not if we kill the bastards before we get them there.”

The world went dark as a bag was placed over
Layne’s head and drawn tight. He could hardly breathe. His hands
were cuffed, and he was walked somewhere. He heard shots ring out,
but had no idea if these people were shooting at zombies, or just
for fun.

He was shoved forward, and he hit something
cold and hard, landing on his knees. Then, he heard a door shut,
and the cries of joy and laughter were muffled. He felt a rumble as
an engine started, and then lurched again as the vehicle moved
forward.

Layne sat up. He tried to get his hands
free, but couldn’t. He tried to get the bag off of his head, but
that was also impossible. Finally, he decided to try to talk.

“Who’s in here? Is anyone here with me?”

He heard Jessi’s voice. “Layne? Layne,
where’s Kara? I don’t hear her crying!”

“I don’t know. Who else is here?”

“I am,” Warren said. “I can barely
breathe.”

“Don’t talk, then,” Layne said. He tried to
size up the situation, but he was just as hopeless and confused as
his friends.

 

****

 

Layne couldn’t tell how long they had been
moving. With every sharp turn, he would fall over, and eventually
he stopped trying to maintain balance and just let himself shift
around.

Finally, they screeched to a halt, and it
was only then that Layne realized he’d much rather stay in the
dark, rolling around and nauseous, than face whatever fate was
waiting for them outside.

The doors opened, and Layne was dragged out.
He fell a few feet onto concrete, hurting his leg. He was jerked to
his feet, and then told to move. He marched along what felt like
sidewalk, nearly tripping over a curb when he reached a street.
Shouts and cheers like the ones before, only far more numerous,
came from all sides.

“Are you guys okay?” he said. Someone hit
him in the back of the head.

“No fuckin’ talking.”

Finally, he was given the order to halt.
Things grew quiet.

“Take off their bags,” someone said. “You
fucks have no manners.”

The bag was ripped from his head, and Layne
gasped for air. He looked around, waited for his eyes to
adjust.

They were in the middle of a huge
intersection dimly lit by a series of torches. All around were
bleachers full of people, some dressed in tattered, often unfitting
Army clothes (and Layne figured out how they had gotten at least
some of their weaponry). He could barely see beyond the people; the
buildings in the intersection had been connected by the bleachers
as well as wood and cars, piled up, creating a small sub-city that
he guessed served as the home of these people.

In the middle was a large chair, like that
of a lifeguard. A man sat atop this, leaning against one fist,
looking bored. To either side of him was a gigantic torch.

“So… What?” the man said.

“It’s been a while since we brought anyone,”
the first man from the alley replied. He was beginning to sweat,
his leader apparently unimpressed with his “haul”.

The man in the chair shrugged. “They’ll all
die off sometime.”

“That’s why we brought them. We won’t have
many more opportunities, in the future.”

“I can find ways to entertain myself,” the
man in the chair said. “But okay. One more time.”

The man on the ground smiled. The crowd
cheered.

“Please,” Layne said. The crowd quieted. “My
name is Layne. We were just passing through.” The man holding him
raised a hand to strike him, but the man on the high chair stood,
and everyone became silent, and no one moved.

“‘Just passing through’, he says.” The man
opened his arms, looked to the people around him. “Well, you’re
‘just passing through’ our fucking city.”

“I’m sorry.” Layne could see all of his
friends. They were cuffed and made to stand in a semi-circle. Kara
sobbed, she had been gagged with what looked like a bandana. Jessi
kept her eyes glued on her, with a look that promised everything
would be okay.

“Oh, he’s
sorry
.” The man in the
chair began to laugh, and the people in the audience did the same.
“He’s sorry he trespassed into our territory. I’m sure he’d be
sorry for taking our food and weapons, too!”

The crowd sneered.

“I don’t want your food or weapons,” Layne
said. “We’re just trying to get by!”

The man descended from his chair and walked
to Layne. The crowd grew quiet again. “So, I guess that makes you
the leader, yeah?”

“Yeah. Do whatever you want with me, but
please, let my friends go. They aren’t even supposed to be here, I
made them follow me.” He was beginning to choke up. He couldn’t
believe what he had done.

“I’ll do whatever I want with whomever I
want.”

“Just fucking let us go!” Dex said. The
crowd booed.

“Dex, shut up,” Layne said, but the man had
already turned his attention to Dex. He walked calmly over to
him.

“What’s your name?”

“Dexter. Fucking pleased to meet you.”

“You have poor manners.” He offered his
hand, as if to shake. “I’m Jones.” Dex looked at Jones’s hand as
though he were inspecting a dangerous animal. “Come on, don’t leave
me hanging, bro!” Jones smiled.

Dex lifted his hands, still cuffed, half
expecting to be released. Jones grabbed Dex’s hand in both of his,
and shook.

“See?” Jones said, “it isn’t that hard to be
polite!
” As he shouted, he broke Dex’s index finger. Dex
screamed.

“Leave him alone!” Layne said. Jones turned
his attention back to Layne. Dex dropped to his knees, holding his
hands as steady as he could. His contorted finger stuck out in an
obviously wrong direction, and Dex rocked back and forth.

“Let me tell you something,” Jones said. He
lifted Layne’s head, looked into his eyes. “I am the only one here
who gives orders. Understand?”

“You assholes are pathetic!” Dex said. Jones
turned back to him, no longer amused.

“Dex, just stop it,” Layne said.

Jones walked toward Dex, lifted him from the
ground, and patted him on the back.

“You’ve got balls, kid. I like that.” He
laughed. He turned to his crowd, and they laughed, too. Then, Jones
spun around and punched Dex in the face. Dex fell to the ground,
blood poured from his mouth. “Does anyone else have anything on
their mind?”

“Please,” Layne said. “Please just let them
go.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that,” Jones said,
rushing back to Layne. “You see, no one who isn’t one of us leaves
our city alive. It’s far too risky, these days.”

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