Pandora 2: Death is not an Option (15 page)

A growing feeling in his gut made Tommy shout out to everyone, “Listen, if we get separated, look for Route 826. Take that to 75. When it becomes the long stretch of Alligator Alley, wait there if you can. We’ll all converge on that spot. If you can’t stay there and wait, move west, and we’ll all meet toward the end.”

Manny, still in the driver’s seat, was sweating bullets. The constant maneuvering was taking a toll on his nerves. Eventually, he stopped avoiding the undead altogether. They continually kept stepping in front of the bus, and the gore was smearing the windshield. Manny put the wipers on, but that just smeared the mess over a larger area. He kept moving his head back and forth, trying to find a clear spot.

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” he yelled in frustration.

As they came to an intersection right before Route 826, a massive collision involving three trucks and a number of cars forced Manny to swing to the right to avoid it. As he swerved around the mangled vehicles, a large knot of undead appeared right in front of him. Spinning the steering wheel abruptly, he felt the bus tilt left, and, before he could compensate, it tipped over. Windows shattering and metal flying, the city bus landed on its side. The forward momentum sent it, in a hail of sparks and debris, skidding across the pavement. Plowing through the mass of zombies and parked cars, it mounted the curb and, like a huge metallic battering ram, crashed through the front of an Italian restaurant. Outside tables and chairs were thrown in every direction. The immense crash was heard for blocks. Steam, plaster, and cement dust billowed out of the hole rent in the building. Mortar and masonry knocked loose by the rampaging bus repeatedly dropped down onto the vehicle and sidewalk.

The few remaining zombies converged on the half of the bus left sticking out of the restaurant. As they started to paw at the carriage, a sudden, metallic screech sounded. It grew in volume until the storefront-wide “La Cortina Restaurante” sign tilted down and then tore loose from the masonry wall. Falling onto the gathering undead, the large, heavy sign crushed them in a huge cacophonic crash.

12

S
teven Dowd had fallen asleep on a chair while gazing out the deli window. His head was hanging to his chest and one of his snores woke him. He hadn’t opened his eyes and was nodding off again when a tapping sound caught his attention. He slowly opened his eyes. He could see it was morning but for the life of him couldn’t grasp just where he was. As his fogginess cleared and his eyes focused, he saw a half dozen zombies standing in front of the plate-glass window. One of the creatures was tapping his hand on the glass, almost as if to get his attention. Although it was dark in the deli, they were aware of his still form slumped in the chair. Seeing their milky eyes staring in, a frightened Steve gasped and jumped up. The chair went crashing over behind him. His sudden movement and obvious proof of life instantly stirred the zombies into action. They all started moaning and snarling. Banging their hands on the glass and some even throwing themselves against the window, they soon attracted the notice of a band of undead shambling up the road.

Steve ran to the back as the others awoke. “Quick,” he yelled, “they’ve found us. Get your things and go out the rear door.”

As the crowd of undead increased, their incessant pounding grew more frenzied. Steve and the small group unlocked the door
and then ran out of the deli’s back exit. As they rounded the strip mall, Steve looked around and said, “Wait! Wait. Where are Josh and Karen?”

Everyone looked around, baffled.

“They were here when we went to sleep,” cried Ana.

“Shit,” Steve exclaimed. “Go on ahead. Just keep running south. There should be a cross street saying Florida Turnpike to the right. Turn and go up the ramp. Head south. I’ll go back and get Josh and Karen. I’ll catch up with you. Go!”

Luke, Ana, and Max ran ahead. As they ran out from the rear and crossed the front lot to the street, they caught the eye of several zombies. Breaking off from the pack, they laid chase.

Steve ran back to the rear entrance of the deli. Not realizing that this door automatically locked when closed, he pulled and pulled on the handle, yelling, “Josh, Josh!” and banged on the door.

The crowd of zombies in front was becoming riled up by the noise. Several had broken off to pursue the three survivors already running down the road. More were turning and following. Steve decided that he had to go now and took off the way the others went.

In the meantime, Josh and Karen stirred from their deep and satisfying sleep in the back of the mattress retailer. Hearing the commotion from the other end, Josh, completely naked, looked out the front doors. As he stood there aghast, watching the zombies pass to give chase to the rest of the group, one of the undead, a large, three-hundred-pound man with milky eyes and his bottom lip ripped off, turned his way. Switching directions deceptively fast, he gathered speed as he fast-walked his way toward the doors. Josh backed up
until right before the big man reached him. He turned and ran for the back. Karen, now wide awake, was already almost dressed.

“Run!” Josh screamed.

At the same time, the large black man hit the front glass doors and smashed right through them. Karen had run to the back exit and opened the door. She stopped, turned, and yelled to Josh to hurry. He halted at the bed they had spent the night on and grabbed his pants and shoes. Pausing for a second, he turned and saw the undead creature, shards of glass sticking out from him like a pincushion, still heading for him, hands reaching out like deadly claws. Josh then ran toward Karen, and they both ran out the door, slamming it in the ghoul’s face.

Josh heard him bang his hands on the heavy metal door. Pausing to put his pants on and zip them, Josh saw the door swing open and smash against the wall as the zombie hit the push bar and flew out the door. Fumbling and dropping his shoes, Josh turned and grabbing Karen, ran down the back alleyway, and out toward the street.

As they passed some of the slower zombies, the two lovers ran into the street and away from the stores. By now, all of the undead were in pursuit of the fugitive group. Running quickly, Josh looked down and saw that he had unconsciously picked up his pistol and was now carrying it. Karen, being an aerobics instructor, was in much better shape than the attorney was. Josh’s idea of a rough workout was eighteen holes of golf (as long as he had a cart). Karen slowed to look over her shoulder and saw Josh running at least forty yards behind. Stopping, she urged him on.

“Come on, Josh, run,” she yelled. “Just keep going.”

As Josh dodged past the lead ghoul, his left foot stepped on a piece of errant curbstone. His left ankle buckled as his weight shifted onto it, and Josh went sprawling on the road, scraping his bare chest on the asphalt. As he rolled over onto his back so he could see how close the nearest zombie was, a breath-stealing, intense pain shot up his leg from his twisted ankle. Josh screamed out in pain and reached down to his foot.

“Oh shit,” he yelled. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

The zombie he had just passed reached out his arms as he stumbled to his fallen prey. Luckily, Josh had held onto his pistol. Raising it up, he fired two shots at the ghoul closing in on him. The first shot missed completely, and the second, fired as the zombie was standing over him, went straight up through his lower jaw and out the top of his head. A shower of blood and brain matter shot out along with the bullet. The walking corpse, dressed in a suit and tie that was caked and stiff with filth and dried blood, tottered on its feet for a few seconds and then started to fall directly on its face—and directly onto Josh. The panicked man spun quickly to his left to avoid the falling body. As he did, another shooting pain exploded from his ankle. With tears in his eyes, Josh struggled to rise to his knees. Suddenly, Karen was by his side and helped him to his feet.

“Aaahh!” he cried. “My ankle. I think I tore a muscle or maybe a tendon.”

“Come on,” she implored, “you have to try to walk.”

Josh carefully stepped down on his bad ankle and screamed again. He looked behind him and could see two dozen zombies heading right for them. Karen positioned herself under his left shoulder and grabbed his waist.

“Lean on me,” she said. “We have to move.”

Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, Josh started to limp down the street. He could hardly put any weight down on his left foot. Still, with tears streaming down his cheeks, he managed to limp along with Karen supporting him.

I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die
, he kept repeating silently to himself.

A half mile down the street Ana, Luke, and Max stopped to catch their breath. All were soaked with sweat and gasping for breath. Max had his head down in his hands on his knees.

“I…I don’t…think I’m gonna…make it,” he choked out between rasping breaths. His face was beet red.

“You gotta,” puffed Luke. He stood up with his hands on his hips and head back, trying desperately to slow his breathing down. Looking back, he could see Steve running up the road. “It’s Steve. He made it,” he said, breathing heavily.

As Steve caught up to them, Ana asked, “Where are the rest?”

He stopped and slowed his breathing, and then the former gym owner said, “I don’t know. I couldn’t find them. They weren’t in the deli.”

“What the hell?” gasped Luke. “Did the zombies get them?”

“I don’t see how,” Steve answered. “We would have heard them if they did. No, I think they must have slipped out and gotten separated.”

“Do we wait?” asked Luke.

“Not here,” said Max, looking around.

“You’re right,” replied Steve. “We’ll get to the turnpike. We can wait for them there.”

Ana looked behind them and said, “I can see a whole crowd of undead back there, and they’re all heading our way.”

“Can we walk?” asked Max. “I can’t run right now.” His face was still very flushed.

“Okay, but we have to go now,” said Steve.

The four of them started walking down the wide street. Nearing the intersection at the end of the long road, Luke pointed ahead.

“Look,” he said, “there’s a sign up ahead. It says the Florida Turnpike is up ahead.”

“Thank God,” remarked Ana.

Just then, they heard two shots from behind them. Turning, they squinted and tried to shield their eyes to see all the way down the street.

“Is that Josh?” asked Max.

“I hope so,” said Steve. “I really hope so.” A moaning sound came from off to their left. “Zombies,” said Steve. “Let’s keep moving. I don’t want us getting trapped.”

“What about Karen and Josh?” said Ana.

“The plan remains the same,” Steve reminded them. “We get on the turnpike, wait for them there, and then continue south.” He
looked once again, and then, turning, he bit his lip and said softly, “Nothing has changed.”

Josh and Karen were still struggling forward. He could feel his ankle and lower calf swelling. The zombies were twenty feet behind them. Josh looked over his shoulder, wild-eyed. The panic was starting to build up in him. Adrenaline was all that kept him going. Haphazardly swinging his pistol around, he took a shot at the undead crowd. Through sheer luck, it hit one zombie in the knee, and it went sprawling flat on its face.

Josh’s leg hurt so much that he kept on holding his breath when stepping. He couldn’t help it; the fire in his ankle was consuming every fiber of his being.

“Don’t waste bullets,” Karen said. “Keep going, Josh. You’re slowing down.”

“I’m sorry,” he whined. “It hurts so much.”

The tough aerobics-instructor part of Karen kicked in. “Come on,” she said, dragging him faster, “you can do it. Just man up.”

He was grimacing and gritting his teeth, blowing air through his tightly clenched jaw.

“God dammit, I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Come on,” she continued. “They’re gaining on us. Just suck it up.”

Growing more and more desperate, Josh kept glancing fearfully over his shoulder. It seemed like every time he turned around to look, the mass of zombies seemed to be getting closer and closer.

“I don’t want to die, Karen,” he said, looking at her pleadingly.

Karen couldn’t believe it. She had never seen anyone fall apart so completely. It was disturbing to witness and, she had to admit, very unattractive. With a little jolt of anger, she yanked Josh forward. “For Christ’s sake, stop whining and move it.”

That tug came while he was once again looking over his shoulder, and he stumbled to his knees. Karen stopped, pulled on his left arm and shoulder, and yelled, “Get up, get up! They’re coming.”

“Oh my God, no,” Josh groaned, looking back. He turned to look up at her with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She dragged his trembling body up to his feet. All the while he kept saying, “I’m so sorry, Karen, but I don’t want to die.”

Finally on his feet, he wobbled, looked at the encroaching undead with tears rolling down his face, and then turned to Karen. For a second, she could see what looked like a new resolve on his pained features. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are, Josh, but we—”

A loud shot startled her. She opened her mouth to say something, but then a searing pain exploded in her knee. She collapsed to the ground. Rolling on the street and grasping her bloody, shattered knee, she looked up at Josh, stunned.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned,” but…but I don’t want to die.” He continued mumbling the same phrase repeatedly as he took a hobbling step forward and then another. Limping badly and holding the smoking pistol, he continued awkwardly down the street.

Karen tried to get up, but the bullet had completely shattered her kneecap. Trying her best, she only succeeded in falling over again. Rolling on her back, she saw that the zombies were only feet away now, reaching out for her greedily. She tilted her head back at the hobbling, retreating figure of Josh and screamed out with all her might, “
You shit!
”

Seconds later, the undead surrounded and then fell upon her.