Infected (17 page)

It reached through the broken glass, grabbed the sill, and began to pull itself up. Emma fired the Glock point blank and put it down.

More of them came out of the darkness and crowded around the windows.

“I hope that chopper gets here fast,” Emma said.

Sam was pissed. The same abominations that had killed their horse were now swarming up the porch steps. On his damn property. He stood in the living room, which faced the porch. Trudy was behind him. He only had one gun, otherwise she would've defended the house with them. They started pounding on the glass and the first pane smashed in a moment later.

The pale-faced things stuck their arms in. One of them started to worm its way through the window, head first. Sam stepped up and fired the shotgun. It's head exploded like a pumpkin with an M-80 lit inside. The others yanked the body back and another one took its place, this one a long-haired man with a bushy beard.

Sam shot the bearded man, the buckshot shredding his face. But he still crawled forward and flopped onto the living room floor. As he stood up, Sam blasted him in the head. This time he stayed down. It didn't stop his buddies, as they smashed out the front windows.

“Upstairs,” Sam said. “We'll barricade ourselves in.”

They retreated up the stairs, which were off the living room. They hurried into the master bedroom and locked the door. He tried to shove a tall dresser against the door, but it was like trying to move a Mack truck. Trudy tried helping, but it was useless.

“Door's going to have to be good enough,” Sam said.

“I don't want to end up like them,” Trudy said.

“We're not gonna die.”

“I mean like
them.
Dead but alive. Don't let it come to that, Sam.”

“If you mean what I think, I can't do that,” Sam said.

“You might have to.”

“Don't talk like that.”

He could hear them stomping up the stairs. It was the worse thing he'd ever heard.

Weiss and Lori had taken up a position at the side window opposite the driveway. He'd grabbed a long knife from the kitchen and Lori had a meat mallet. If a rogue filet mignon attacked the house, at least they'd be able to kick its ass. It felt inadequate, especially now since the freaks were outside pounding on the windows.

The old woman and the boy from the hospital were with them, sitting in dining room chairs across the room. The nurse - Rebecca - was keeping an eye on them. The soldier – Matthews – opened fire. Weiss felt like his eardrums had ruptured.  Matthews shot down the first wave of them, who had broken the glass and were coming in the windows. The second group of them came, and as Matthews pulled out his clip and grabbed a fresh one, a thick-necked zombie pulled itself in the window. Weiss stepped forward and drove the knife into its eye, jamming hard and hoping to reach the brain. The knife stuck, and the man pulled away. Weiss lost his weapon.

They started to climb in the windows. Matthews said, “We're going to be overrun. Grab the kid and the woman.”

Weiss picked up the old woman, who groaned like a sinking ship and called him a moron.

“I can walk,” the boy said.

“I'll help you,” Rebecca said, gripping his arm and helping him up.

Lori said, “Move like you've got a fire under you.”

“To the back door,” Matthews said.

They retreated to the kitchen, where the other soldier named Anthony watched the back door. There was no sign of any zombies at the back door, but Weiss could hear them crashing through other parts of the house. If they didn't get out, they were going to join the ranks of the dead.

Matthews said, “Is it clear?”

“They haven't come to the back door,” Anthony said.

“We'll have to try for the ambulance. Fight our way through,” Weiss said.

“We're not leaving without my daughter and granddaughter,” the old woman said.

As if on queue, Emma Ross and her family entered the kitchen. The sheriff said, “They're coming in the windows. We're screwed.”

Weiss said, “We're trying for the ambulance. It might be our only shot.”

“Where's the farmer?” Rob asked.

“I'll get them,” Emma said.

“No time,” Weiss said.

“I'm not leaving them here.”

Emma slipped into the sewing room and gunned down two zombies. Stepping over the bodies, she reached the living room and froze. The things were climbing in the windows. She could hear more of them banging around upstairs. Going after someone. She figured the old guy and his wife had retreated up the stairs. There were a half dozen of the things in the living room, and a group of them jammed on the stairs. She shot three more of them then made her way back to the kitchen, thinking she couldn't have gotten to the farmer without some sort of automatic weapon.

Back in the kitchen, the soldier named Anthony had the door open. He looked at Emma and said, “Well?”

“I think they went upstairs. Stairs are loaded with creatures.”

Weiss, who was carrying her mother, said, “We go now or we die.”

They slipped out the back door, Emma and Rob keeping Kayla between them. The soldiers were up front, weapons raised. Weiss and the others brought up the rear. The driveway was around the corner to the right. They reached the corner and saw the crowd of zombies that was climbing into the sewing room. Beyond the crowd was the ambulance.

The soldiers opened fire, the sound of rifle fire deafening. They cut down the freaks until there was a pile of bodies.

They made it to the ambulance, getting Emma's mom and the boy in first. The rest of them piled in back, Weiss getting behind wheel. As Weiss started up the ambulance, the zombies from the front of the house moved in, pale snarling faces pressed against the windshield. From the back of the rig, Emma looked out the rear windows and saw them crowded around the ambulance. They were ten deep.

The ambulance began to rock, as if the things were trying to shake their prey loose. Emma heard glass break and one of them had smashed through the driver's side and was trying to pull Weiss from his seat.

One of the soldiers – Matthews – said something into the headset that jutted from his helmet. He looked around and said, “Apaches coming in hot. Everyone down and hope they don't tear us up.”

Emma got down, her arm around Kayla. Rob had his arm around the two of them. She heard the rumble of choppers and then the din of heavy machine guns opening up, followed by high-pitched screeching.

When they stepped outside the ambulance, Emma's stomach rolled.  Severed arms, legs, and heads littered the ground. The grass had turned a shade of dark red. The rest of the ground resembled the killing floor of a slaughterhouse, with the odd length of intestine or jellied internal organ smeared on the ground. The Apaches had done their job with deadly efficiency.

Sam stood up, helping Trudy as he did so. The door had almost buckled in and then he'd heard the din of helicopters over head and the high-pitched wine of what he assumed was the chopper gunners opening up. The beating on the door had stopped and now Sam went to the door and pressed his ear against it. Quiet from the other side.

“Are they all dead?” Trudy asked.

“I hope like hell they are.”

He listened for another moment and eased the door open, shotgun pointed in the hallway. It was empty.

“It's clear.”

“Maybe they ran outside when the choppers came,” Trudy said.

“In that case they're the dumbest sons of bitches I've ever seen.”

They walked downstairs, finding corpses in the living room. The stink coming off them was unbearable. He went on the front porch and saw the others standing in what could only be described as a pile of blood and guts.

Weiss and Lori stood outside the ambulance. He had his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“It almost pulled you out of the ambulance.”

“Thank God for the U.S. Army. The damn thing just about disintegrated when the bullets hit it.”

“Mike, if any of those things got out...”

“Don't say that.”

Rob walked Kayla away from the scene of the slaughter, arm around her. He pressed her close so she wouldn't see the dead lying on the ground. She'd already seen enough tonight to last her a lifetime.  Emma came up next to him and slipped her hand in his.

“Kayla, why don't you sit in Mommy's car, okay?” You'll be safe there.”

“'Kay,” she said.

As they reached the car, someone clapped a hand on Rob's shoulder. He turned around and said, “Yeah?”

It was Matthews. “I hope you're not planning on leaving.”

“What if we were.”

“You can't. By order of the U.S. Government. Those are my orders.”

“You can't keep us here,” Rob said.

Matthews raised his rifle. “Sheriff, I'll need your sidearm. There's troops on the way here. You'll all need to be debriefed.”

“Debriefed?”

“I'm sorry. But I have orders. Now give me the gun.”

To Be Continued

Look for Book Two of The Dead Land Trilogy

 Coming Summer 2012