Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End (11 page)

28

Cars honk as they crowd the exits leading out of town. Sitting bumper to bumper, creeping forward whenever the opportunity presents itself. The sun is starting to rise, bringing an end to the crazy night and ushering in the dawn of a new day, an era of uncertainty.

“Get them to stop with the noise!” Luke orders a nearby officer, one of the few still actively serving the people. The man in the Santa suit looks over the lines of autos, they are understandably in distress and anxious to get someplace safe, but the sounds they make to release their anxiety and frustration will only bring what they run from down upon them.

The relentless dead emerge from intersecting streets, drawn to the sounds of life. The civilians at the end of the procession scream within their cars as the walking corpses come up to their windows and claw to get at what’s inside. The people react differently, where some crouch down to stay out of view, others try to bully their cars around those in front of them, frantically wanting to get away from the gruesome ghouls. This presents a problem, creates knots in the orderly lines.

The worse reaction comes from the people that abandon their cars all together, dragging their loved ones out into the cold morning to beat the traffic on foot. They leave their cars and possessions behind to get a lead on the others. This creates obstructions that bar the way for those in the rear, leading more and more to evacuate their vehicles.

So much for an orderly fashion
, Luke thinks to himself. The dead see their prospective meals getting away and give chase in their slow manner, ignoring those still trapped out of reach in cars. It’s too late to direct the panicking folks to get back in their vehicles, Luke has to act. “You three, come on!” he enlists the aid of a few officers.

The puzzled police hesitate for a second, the man in the Santa suit apparently orchestrated this exodus, upon arrival he’s made it clear by his direction that he’s in charge. They follow his lead, heading down the stream of frightened citizens, towards danger with their guns drawn. Luke conserves his fire, trying to fall the enemy with single shots to the head once he’s close enough, but there are leagues more on the way as if also answering the call to leave the city.

Luke knocks on windows, speaking loud enough to be heard through the glass, “Get out!” He points the terrified inhabitants in the direction of safety since there is no way the cars in the rear can get passed the abandoned vehicles.

The three police officers do the same, as far as they dare while remaining a safe distance from the growing horde. They wave for the remaining people to join them before the crowd of dead swallows the traffic. They put down the leaders of the pack of ghouls to create windows of opportunity.

A quick check for stragglers while letting the final refugees pass reveals no one left behind. A lack of faith in humanity has the jaded ex-cop eyeing every child seat just in case.

“A’right,” Luke addresses his helpers, “let’s get this road blocked if we can.”

They watch Santa reach into idling cars, getting them in gear and allowing them to creep while he turns the wheel. They make diagonal obstructions wherever they can to buy themselves time.

Luke is easing one last car in place to bar the approaching throng that is getting dangerously close. About to leave the improvised blockade he is grabbed. A corpse has his shoulder and then his shooting hand. The man fights to free his arm so he can defend himself but the zombie is relentless, fueled by hunger and stronger than Luke could imagine.

Luke pulls on his arm as he climbs over the car he has just put in the way hoping to use it to as leverage, a wedge between him and certain death. The dead man that has him in his steely clutches looks like an ordinary person aside from the vacant stare and masticated neck. The ghoul opens its mouth wide to bite whatever morsel he can bring into it, it isn’t choosy, any bit of flesh will do.

A quick pop mere feet from his face frees Luke. He falls backwards into his rescuer’s chest. One of his enlisted helpers has put the zombie down that has a mouthful of white padding, all it was able to take away from the man.

“Thanks,” Luke Pants.

“Any time. What now?” the young officer follows Luke back towards the survivors.

“We need to get everyone moving. I saw a semi and a bus up a ways. Let’s get the pedestrians loaded up. Get people to the front, they can car pool. Any word on what the holdup is?”

29

“You’re lucky I was passing through. I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers, but considering the situation,” the semi driver continues to drone, having not let up on Archie’s ear since he was offered a ride back in the city. “You meet a lot of weirdos out there. You should see some of the guys I’ve run into behind bookstores.”

“Behind bookstores?” Archie asks, uttering only the second thing since entering the cab of the truck. He had panted a relieved ‘thank you’ to the man and hasn’t had a moment to slip in anything else.

“Yeah. Newsstands and bookstores get their magazines on a consignment. When the new batch arrives they’re supposed to destroy the old ones and send the publishers the cover. Most don’t shred them and just throw them out. I’d be there, minding my own business, when some real oddballs would join me in rummaging for porn. Creeps.”

The semi’s brakes chirp as it yet again comes to a halt. They are caught in the middle of the evacuation traffic, making it to safety an inch at a time. Afforded the chance to take his hands off the wheel the driver lifts up his hat to adjust his thick mullet of dark brown hair. Archie stomachs the man’s motor mouth since he picked him up in his desperate time. He had just left Amber’s sorority house as the dead flooded in and found himself running with no real destination. He just kept moving trying to avoid the clusters of slow moving people when the man offered him a ride.

“That was years ago, there comes a moment in every man’s life when he’s looking at a centerfold and he realizes the girl is young enough to be his daughter. He just has to be done, clean off his stomach, and get himself out there to find a good wife.”

The trucker, who said his name is Kenny Dewitt, has a habit of over sharing. Archie filters what he listens to, trying to instantly forget anything he’d hate to leave in his mind. A commotion behind them has him staring at his side mirror, though what he looks at is more than likely bad news, he is thankful that it diverts the majority of his attention away from Kenny’s words. Gun shots pop off behind them, Archie can see the quick flashes.

“I found a better source than salvaged magazines, the internet is great. Absolutely anything you want to see, anytime of the day!” Kenny’s excited disclosure blinds him to his audience’s waning attention. “Even better than the amateur clips are the girls you find on regular sites, Gander for instance. I found this one gem on Gander, great body, big brown eyes…”

Archie doesn’t hear the familiar description, he’s watching the action behind them. From between the rows of cars people are stampeding their way, running from something terrible in the early hours.

“… she hasn’t shown it all yet, but…”

“There’s something happening,” Archie tells the driver.

Kenny checks his mirror to see what his passenger is referring to. Police officers are leading the frightened herd their way. In the moment his eyes are off the road ahead, the traffic has progressed a few feet. He takes advantage of this, it’s just enough space for him to pull onto the shoulder and scoot alongside the jam.

“What are you doing?” Archie asks.

“Getting’ the fuck away from whatever they’re running from.”

“What if they need help?”

“Not my problem,” the driver curtly admits. “I’ve got certain obligations to maintain, people depending on me. You see, through the power of the internet, I began a secret social network for if the shit ever hit the fan, as it clearly has. We’ve dedicated the past six months of our lives to prepare for the inevitable apocalypse. It came a lot sooner than I thought.”

Archie is speechless. All he can do is look down at the people they pass, and back at those they are leaving behind. Ahead of them on the highway the road into town is clear, the police have been letting folks through to alleviate the congestion. Kenny squeezes past the next lucky motorist who was getting the privilege of using the other lane, the cop directing traffic must jump out of the semi’s way.

“I’ve got a serious question for you. Something that’s been plaguing me for some time,” the man asks. With a metallic scrape the large truck is through the gap and heading down the wrong way on the highway, building speed like a dog happy to be able to run after being cooped up for too long. “You have a time machine. You can go back to the nineteen-nineties and Quantum Leap into one of two people; Mark Wahlberg or Donny Wahlberg. Which Wahlberg do you choose?” The driver punctuates his question with a few pulls of his air horn to all those stuck in traffic.

“Um…” Archie isn’t sure how to answer.

“Forget what you know about them now,” Kenny suggests.

“Ok.”

“On one hand you have Donny, I am willing to bet he made much more money than the other one. But, when he was on stage with the New Kids, he was looking out over a sea of groupies he couldn’t touch. Underage girls with sideways pony-tails, Hyper Color tee-shirts, and snap bracelets. Mark had the chance to get with adult chicks that looked like rap video girls.”

Archie still has no answer.

“Option three: you can go back and kill Hitler?”

30

Sitting in the tour bus she bought for her team, Rocky Roadkill is astonished by the actions of the driver of a semi-truck. He has just pushed through a gap in the traffic jam. Finding a gap in a jam is her thing, she can’t believe she hadn’t thought to do that. Not to be outdone she creeps out onto the shoulder and follows the truck’s path before the other itchy motorists can.

Having recovered himself after the last unexpected breech, the officer orchestrating traffic is on his feet and about to let the patient car go when he has to leap to the side once more lest he be run over by the large bus. Horns blare in reaction to the rudeness only to be ignored. The voids left by the missing vehicles are quickly filled in leaving a standstill for the cop to clean up.

31

“What do you mean they’re gone?” Luke asks once he hears the news of the truck and bus leaving, they’ll have nowhere to put the frantic citizens now.

“They just pushed through onto the southbound heading north,” an officer reports.

“Keep everyone moving calmly. Keep them all together,” Luke is frustrated to have his plan ruined, as if life itself has hit a four-way stop and everyone is trying to go left. He has no idea what’s obstructing the traffic at the front of this train, but figures they’ll just have to solve it once they are there. Hopefully they can find something else to use to transport the people to the reserve depot, it’s quite a distance to Waterloo on foot and that city will be just as bad as Breckinridge.

“Dad,” the ex-cop hears his daughter call, “what’s going on?”

“Suzy, you’re gonna need to get the boys bundled up and walking,” he breaks the news with a heavy heart.

“Walking? That isn’t safe with those…”

“If everyone stays together it should be fine, I’ll have Murphy stay with you the whole way.”

“Why do I get the feeling you aren’t coming?”

“I can’t go,” Luke says, unable to meet his daughter’s eyes. The corpse that had made off with just a mouthful of his fuzzy white padding left behind a deep scrape in his skin. It’s a minor injury but enough to draw blood. “I got grabbed a bit ago by one, it got me.” He won’t risk changing around Suzy and the boys.

“This has to be good bye, Suzy. I love you,” he tells her for the first time in a long while. Luke may have hated a decision she had made years ago, but he never stopped loving her.

“I love you too,” she returns, hugging her father.

“Get the boys to safety. Once at the depot look for Oz. If anyone can manage this it’s him.”

“My dad?” Killian asks.

“He was built for this sorta thing, kid.” Luke goes to one knee to look the boy in the eyes. “You take care of your mom for me, and your brother.”

“Grampa, aren’t you coming?” Hippo asks.

“I got some things to do here, people to help,” Luke smiles, putting on a brave face. “And, you, take care of
your
brother and mom. Kay?”

“Ok,” the child agrees.

“Murphy, stick close to my family please.”

“Will do, Luke,” the no-longer-green officer accepts the duty with pride. “It’s been a…”

“No time for that, just keep them safe,” the man in the Santa suit interrupts. The dead behind them are getting through the barriers of cars. Some are pushed over the hoods by the insistent zombies behind them, others have fallen and have dragged themselves underneath.

“Anyone that’s been bitten, you’re with me!” Luke addresses the officers and firemen. “That goes for able bodied civilians too!”

As the refugees flee towards what they hope will be safety, a dozen volunteers stay behind to hold back the mob. Often overlooked heroes in the world before, to say unsung would be putting it mildly, men and women of uniform stand their ground so that others may have a chance. All firearms have been given to the departing group, leaving the volunteers with only hand to hand weapons.

The fear Luke feels doesn’t show, he won’t let his knowledge of his impending death shake his convictions, or that of those that stand by his side. “A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.”