Chapter Five
Driving through South Dakota at midnight – on a stretch of road that was entirely deserted – gave me the creeps. The last place we stopped was an hour and a half earlier, just south of the border. The gas station had been deserted, with several zombie bodies lying on the side of the pavement next to the green grass and a perfect row of little purple pansies. They had had gunshots to the head and chest. The pumps had still worked, so we had gassed up and gotten out of their fast. The sight of the plague bodies was not a good one. A deserted gas station indicating a zombie fight earlier in the day or week was a scary sight. The fact that no one had removed the bodies or manned the gas station was troubling, to say the least. It indicated the town had pretty much either given up or been overrun. We got back onto the road fast and sped on northward.
We were nearly out of South Dakota when the left rear tire blew with a loud bang.
“Oh, no,” I said as I pulled off to the side of the freeway. This was not good at all.
“I’ll change it. Here D, you stand watch,” said Jacob, lifting out his shotgun and handing it over to DeAndre. They both jumped down from the van and walked to the rear to unbolt the spare tire. Thank goodness Jacob had it checked and topped off last month. We had always tried to keep the van in perfect running order in case we had to make a quick escape. It had happened often enough for it to be a top priority.
I could hear them working behind the van.
“I’m going to see if I can help,” Stanley said, reaching for the door handle.
I looked out the windshield at the surrounding terrain. It was pitch black. A nearly new moon sliver sat low in the sky, offering up no real light to see by. The freeway was a two-lane black asphalt ribbon running through deserted fields of wheat. There were no lights
nearby;
the closest seemed to be a farmhouse about half a mile off, one weak porch light that seemed to flicker. Some nearby trees blew in the midnight breeze. I shivered with a sense of foreboding. I glanced behind me through the rear windows. I couldn’t see the men working, but the van jiggled every so often from the jack.
Outside, Jacob had fitted the van’s tire jack under the support and had pumped it halfway up. Nearby DeAndre stood watch with the shotgun, peering into the night and slowly turning a circle to scan the area. Stanley stood with them, smoking a cigarette.
“You need any help there, Jake?” Stanley asked.
“Not really. It’s a one-man job. Just help D keep an eye out,” said Jacob, jacking the van up the rest of the way.
“This place is downright spooky,” said DeAndre. He kept the shotgun pointed at an angle at the pavement, but had both hands holding it steady, ready to point it up at any threat. The night was very still; there were no animal or bird sounds at all. It was eerie.
“That’s quite a family you fellas got there,” Stanley said. “A lot to take care of.”
“We do okay,” said Jacob, making sure the jack was secure and placing two blocks against the other tires. He lowered his face to the pavement and peered up at the underside of the van, making sure he had the jack firmly in place. He didn’t
want
the van falling onto anyone.
“Our family is very important to us,” said DeAndre. He looked directly at Stanley for a long minute, then continued to scan the area.
“Watching Luke play makes me miss my boys,” Stanley said, finishing his cigarette and grinding it out with his foot.
“He’s a good kid,” Jacob said as he grunted and lifted the large van tire onto the axle.”
“Oh, he seems golden, a real champ,” said Stanley.
“He is very important to us all, and we’d defend him with our lives,” said DeAndre.
“Yeah. Hey listen, I’m gonna go around back to take a leak,” said Stanley.
“Stan, this area isn’t
secure;
I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Just take your piss here. We’re all guys,” Jacob said as he began to screw the lug nuts back onto the wheel supports.
“Yeah, man, something’s not right, can’t you feel it?” said DeAndre, turning once again to circle the area.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be a minute guys,” said Stanley. He began to walk off around the side.
“Stanley, stay over here,” DeAndre said. “It’s too quiet.”
Stanley walked back around to them. “The coast seems clear, guys. There’s not a living soul within miles of us,” he said.
Jacob stood up and reached for the tire iron to tighten the lug nuts. “Stanley, it’s too quiet. It’s not normal. This place is out in the middle of nowhere. It isn’t safe,” he said.
“Not a good idea, dude,” said DeAndre.
“I’ll be all right. I really need to piss. I’ll just be a minute!” Stanley huffed off around the corner again.
“That guy doesn’t listen,” DeAndre mumbled to Jacob, shaking his head. He scanned the area again.
“I don’t know what to make of Stan, but he’s not what he seems. I don’t trust him. I’m keeping an eye on him,” said Jacob as he finished tightening the last lug nut and straightened. Something bothered Jacob about the area, and he looked intently around at the fields. Not a sound. There should be birds at least, owls, bats, animal sounds. Crickets. There was nothing, nada, zip. The area was pin-drop quiet, almost as if it was holding its breath. Or hiding something.
Jacob peered around the side of the van to see Stanley walking off into the nearby field about 30 yards away. He stopped and seemed to unzip and begin to relieve himself. Jacob had turned back to DeAndre to comment again when they both started as they heard a scream pierce the night.
Looking back at Stanley, they saw the silhouette of a figure jumping out at him.
“Come on!” Jacob yelled, taking off into the field to help Stanley. DeAndre swore and took off after him, shotgun held at the ready.
Running up to Stanley, they saw a zombie chasing him. Stanley yelped again as the zombie advanced on him. In his haste to escape, he stumbled and fell to the ground, then started backpedaling away from the zombie as fast as he could. It started to come after him, and Stanley crab-crawled backward in a panicked attempt to get away from it.
Jacob still had the tire iron and swung at the zombie, hitting it in the back. DeAndre had the shotgun leveled and tried to get a clear shot.
“AHHH!!!” yelled Stanley as the zombie jumped on top of him. He held his arms up against the creature’s throat as it tried to lower its grey face and bite him. Struggling and screaming, Stanley tried to wriggle away on his back. Black arms with hands ending in claw-like fingernails tried to grab hold of him, but Stanley he kept scrambling away and kicking at the thing, all the while warding off its attempts to bite him.
Jacob ran up to him and, lifting a leg, kicked the zombie off sideways. As it fell off balance, Jake lifted the tire iron and brought it down on the thing across the shoulders. With an “oomph,” the creature fell onto its back. Jacob hit it again, this time in the head. The zombie lay there for a few seconds, dazed. It was all the time DeAndre needed. He quickly leveled the shotgun at the thing’s head and blasted it nearly off. The creature lay still.
Breathing hard, Jacob turned to Stanley, still lying on the ground. Bending over him, he asked, “You okay, Stan? You hurt at all? Bitten?”
“No, I think I’m okay. It didn’t get me,” Stanley said, nearly fainting with shock and relief.
DeAndre walked over and reached down to help him up.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” DeAndre said.
“You guys saved my life,” Stanley said in amazement. “I could’ve been dead!” He was trembling in shock.
“Don’t worry about it,” said DeAndre.
Jacob looked back over at the body, then up to scan the area. “I strongly doubt this was the only one around.”
They all looked back at the van. Something was off. It appeared to be shaking back and forth. They could see several figures outside and at the windows.
“Oh man!” Jacob said, as he and DeAndre began running back to the vehicle. Stanley ran after them.
As they got closer, they could hear growls coming from the creatures that were outside the van, attacking it. Inside, the children huddled together with Caitlyn and me in the center, staying away from the windows. We had seen what was happening out there, and we had been so worried about Stanley we hadn’t noticed the zombies about to attack our vehicle until they were right on top of us. Now, Caitlyn and I had our guns out and ready, aiming them straight at the zombies should they break through the windows. Part of me wanted to shoot them immediately. But what if I missed? Then the glass would be shattered and they’d have a clear way inside. Besides, they were rocking the van so violently it was impossible to get a clear shot.
I held my composure.
There were five zombies; three appeared to be men. The other two were just girls – both looked to be preteens. They were just kids. No. They were now zombies. Dark grey faces with almost black dried blood looked through the van windows at us.
“Risa, get your knife out,” I said quietly. Caitlyn checked her rifle and made sure it was cocked and ready. I had my sawed-off ready and leveled at the window where two of the zombies had concentrated their efforts. They banged systematically at the window together. It held, but I didn’t think it would hold out for that much longer. The three other zombies were rocking the van violently, and we braced ourselves in order not to fall.
“Luke, get under the seat, baby,” I said to him, pointing with my shotgun to the seat behind me. Nodding, he scrambled under it and curled into a tight little ball, his face looking out with large, frightened eyes.
Caitlyn and I had determined looks on our faces. Risa, too. If these windows broke and they came in, they would be met with three wild tigers, armed to the teeth.
Then, all at once, two of the zombies who had been rocking the van turned on each other and started to claw at each other, growling madly. One of them jumped on the other, who seemed smaller. The larger one kneeled on the other’s chest and began to bite and tear at the smaller one’s face. Screaming madly, the smaller one bucked and flailed with its arms. The two began to fight in earnest, seemingly forgetting about us and the van.
Suddenly, one of the zombies who had been pounding at the rear window went down, shot through the head sideways by none other than DeAndre. He had shot at it sideways so the pellets wouldn’t come through the window. The zombie he shot went down in a heap, half its head gone.
Its companion turned on DeAndre, screaming and jumping at him in a fury. Jacob came up to it then and swung his tire iron at it. The thick metal hit it in the head so hard it nearly knocked the creature off its feet. Turning on Jacob, it took two wobbly steps toward him. DeAndre then leveled his shotgun and blasted it off its feet. At close range, the large shotgun did horrendous damage to living tissue. To zombies, who were somewhere between living and dead, it did quite a lot of damage. The zombie lay on the ground, half its midsection blasted away. It struggled to get back on its feet.
“Not so fast, you creepazoid,” said DeAndre as he pointed the shotgun at the thing’s face. Another deafening blast and the zombie lay still. DeAndre hurried to reload the weapon.
The other three zombies were still on the far side of the van. The two that had been fighting each other had had their attention drawn by the shotgun blast from the other side of the van and had gotten up off the ground. The three were coming around the side toward Jacob and DeAndre.
“Jacob!” I screamed through the window. “There’re three more!” I gestured wildly to the side they were coming around. Just then, one of them came around the corner and jumped at Jacob. It took him by surprise, and they both crashed to the ground, the zombie nearly on top of Jacob. Jacob struggled and screamed.
Just then, Stanley came running up. DeAndre was trying to get a clear shot, but Jacob and the zombie were rolling around on the ground too fast to make sure he wouldn’t hit Jake.
When it had jumped on top of Jacob, Jake had dropped his tire iron and it now lay on the pavement on the far side of the struggling duo. Stanley rushed around them and grabbed the heavy
metal bar up off the ground. He yelped as the fourth zombie came around the corner and grabbed at him, nearly touching him before Stan leaped out of the way.
“Jesus!” DeAndre cried as he swung around at the last two zombies. They rushed him both, and he sidestepped them. Then, using the shotgun like a club, he knocked one of them in the back as it passed him.
Stanley had the tire iron in his hands now and brought it down on the back of the zombie struggling with Jacob. The thing then turned on him with a scream.
“Ahh!” Stanley yelped as the thing grabbed at him. With a determined look, Stanley pulled the tire iron back to swing at the zombie that was now advancing on him.
“Take that, you piece of filth!” He yelled as he swung at zombie’s head like Mickey Mantle. Apparently Stan had taken a few cuts at the batting range, because the tire iron connected solidly with the zombie’s head and nearly took it clean off. The creature fell to the ground heavily. Stanley stood over it and brought the tire iron up over his head and then down again hard on the thing’s skull. Several times.