Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (18 page)

Devin turned around in his seat and noticed their path was starting to become blocked with the undead.  “Time to find another place to be.”  He said as they pulled forward through the outstretched arms. 

Shaking hands with the Priest Steve continued up the stairs to the church.  Stopping next to the door he rested his head against his arm.  “That was too close.”  He muttered.

“You’re not kidding.  Don’t do that crap to me again.  You’re supposed to be the big hero not me.” Wes slapped Steve on the back. 

“I am a hero!”  Steve straightened up to his full height, “Come on ya loser.”  He pulled Wes into a headlock while dragging him to the huge oak doors.  Letting go they pulled the heavy doors open.  Wes noticed, with relief, that the doors were several inches thick and sat on massive iron hinges.  They passed through the first set of doors into a small entry way.  Straight ahead was a second set of smaller doors.  These too were heavy and thick. 

“It will take a lot to get through those.”  Wes noted. 

“My guess is the windows aren’t easily accessible.”  Steve nodded to one of the huge stain glassed windows showing a scene from the bible of Noah’s ark.  Wes turned and gave him a quizzical look.  “We had to climb stairs to get to the front door right?  Those windows start about waist level, so I guess they are about ten feet off the ground.  Must be a level or basement below us.” 

Wes looked down at his feet as if he could see through the floor, “Let’s hope there are no windows down there.” 

“They are very small and re-enforced, as is the glass covering our stained glass.” Explained a voice from behind them.  “We had some trouble with vandals a few years ago.”  A small woman in her seventies explained then hurried past them with a bottle of water and some paper towels.  Steve watched her bustle up the center aisle of the church.  Looking around he noticed most of the pews were empty.  The woman had reached the front of the church where several people were huddled together in small groups.  They all looked like they had a rough time getting here.

Wes nudged Steve and pointed to a person lying on the floor covered in a blanket.  They approached slowly trying not to bring attention to themselves.  They saw it was a man and he was moaning.  The woman who had spoken to them was pouring water onto the paper towels and handing some to another woman sitting next to the injured man.  She was speaking low and comforting to him.  A smell made its way to them as they approached.  Wes looked over at Steve with raised eyebrows. 

“Smells like bar be que.”  He whispered.  Steve shushed him and pointed.  Wes closed his eyes and groaned.  He couldn’t believe he had just said that when he realized the man on the floor had been burned badly.  “Oh man that is gonna linger.”  Wes muttered covering his nose and turning away.  He headed for a pew several rows behind them, slung off his pack shoulder and slumped down in the empty pew. 

Reaching into the pack he retrieved a box of ammo and immediately started reloading his empty clips. Steve noticed the intensity that Wes was loading his weapon.  He dropped down next to the young man.  Wes brushed at his eye with the back of his hand. 

“How many times am I gonna do this today?”  He choked.

Steve sat next to him in silence for a moment. “As many as you need to man.”  He whispered and put a hand on Wes’ back.  Wes finished loading the bullets and slipped the clip into the gun.

Steve jumped up.  “BETH!”  He yelled and reached in his jacket. 

“One missed call.”  His phone read. 

“Beth?”  Wes jumped up looking around frantically.  He saw Steve had his phone out.  He bounced on the balls of his feet. 

“Beth. I heard Beth’s ring tone.”  Steve said smiling down at the phone. 

“She hates that song you know.”  Wes said, his face glowing with excitement.

Steve checked the phone and his face fell.  “No message.”  Disappointment crashed over them. 

“She called though so she must be ok.”  Wes stated like this made it fact.

“I’m number one on her speed dial…something could have hit the button and called me…it’s happened before.”  Steve noted miserably staring at the phone.

“Call her back.  Call her back now.”  Wes ordered.

Steve hit his speed dial for Beth and put the phone to his ear. 

“Well?’  Wes asked anxiously.

“No service.  Damn it.”  Steve muttered sinking back down into the pew and burying his face in his hands.  Wes grabbed the phone and tried several times to call or send a text message, but nothing would go through. 

After several minutes he stopped trying.  “She’s ok.”  He sighed.  He looked at Steve who kept his head in his hands.  Wes could tell by the movement of his shoulders that Steve was now the one crying.  Wes rested his hand on his friends shoulder.  “She’s ok, she’s ok, I know she is ok.” He reassured them both.  Steve just nodded but never looked up. 

Devin had driven through the streets of the city for a couple of hours.  After picking up Max and Hector they had agreed to help any other survivors they could.  So far they had not been able to help anyone else.  The closest they came was a woman around Beth’s age.  She was almost to the door when they noticed the bite on her neck.  Her cries for help still echoed in Beth’s ears. 

Now the truck was climbing slowly through one of the suburbs.  Devin turned down the last street before the houses changed to woods. Trevor noticed Devin’s grip on the wheel tighten.  “Do you know this neighborhood?’ 

Devin grimaced, “yeah its mine.”

The truck lumbered to a halt in front of a brick two story house.  Devin stared out the front window.  Taking a deep breath he glanced at the front of the house.  Past the immaculately trimmed front lawn the front door hung open.  The glass storm door was smeared with bloody hand prints.  No one could tell if it was on the inside or outside.  Devin looked at the shattered front window and his blood froze. 

“We’ll go check it out.”  Beth spoke as she put her hand on Devin’s shoulder. 

He turned to her, gave a weak smile as said, “no, that is ok.”  His voice cracked as he faced forward putting the truck in gear and pulled into his neighbor’s driveway to turn around.  “I’m sure they left for her mother’s.”  Tears streamed down his face.  The light was gone as they returned to the city.  “Should we try anyone else’s house?”   Devin asked.  The others either already knew the fate of loved ones, or had no one in town to check on.  Silence filled the truck as they made their way back to town. 

Beth pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit her contacts.  Steve’s name came up right followed by Wes’.  One of them had to be safe.  She assured herself. 

              Jeremy sat on the roof of his house drinking a beer and watching the road.  He was waiting for his wife to get home.  If he was honest with himself he knew she never would.  He had been on the phone with her when he heard the shooting, the line had gone dead and he hadn’t been able to reach her since.  She had been at work at the hospital since this thing has started. 

              He put the bottle to his lips then pulled it away, a look of disgust crossed his face.  The bottle was empty.  He watched the people in the street milling around.  He knew what they were.  He had heard the news reports, seen his neighbor die and get back up.

Jeremy stood up, his balance a bit off from the drink and angle of the roof.  He chose a target and threw the bottle.  SMASH!  It landed several feet from where he had intended.  Even though he missed the result made him laugh.  The zombies in the street gathered at the bottle.  They bumped into each other, one fell down, the undead seemed completely confused by the noise. 

              Jeremy watched for a few moments then fell back to a seated position.  He reached over and flipped open the cooler that was next to him.  Retrieving another beer he twisted off the cap.  He flipped it from the roof.  It hit the ground with a small clink.  Several zombies moved toward the sound.  Jeremy pulled the revolver out of the back of his pants.  He grabbed the box of ammunition he brought up with him.  Loading six shells into the chamber, he thought.  “Well they are already dead right?” 

              He fired of a shot, it pinged off the road, somewhere to the left glass shattered.  Jeremy’s ears rang but he stifled a laugh.  The three noises caused the zombies to return to their slow spinning as they looked for the sources.  Jeremy finished his beer.  He took the empty to the edge of the roof for target practice.  The gun bucked, the muzzle flashed but the bottled remained intact.  Another cap flew from the roof.  Another shot, then another.  The gun was reloaded.  A bottle flew off the roof followed by another cap.  The noises helped the undead find Jeremy’s house. 

              Standing on the edge of his roof, Jeremy relieved himself on the crowd below.  He fired several shots into the crowd.  He heard the front window of his house shatter.  “Nice night for it, isn’t boys?”  He shouted.  Weaving his way back to the cooler he repeated, “nice night for it.”  He reloaded the gun then threw the empty box off the roof. 

He reached into the cooler searching through the cold water for the last beer.  He sipped it slowly enjoying every drop that passed over his tongue.  He aimed at the empty bottle still perched on the edge.  Thought about it took another long drink then walked back to the edge.  Looking over he saw in the glow of his dusk to dawn light that his house was completely surrounded.  He could hear them in his house breaking furniture and glass. 

              The empty bottle dropped from his hand shattering on the head of a neighbor girl.  Five shots blasted in the night, three of his neighbors lay unmoving on his lawn.  A single tear ran down his face.  Jeremy tasted the warm steel and sulfur of the barrel.  A shot rang out, Jeremy’s lifeless body crashed down on the undead below.  The zombies looked at the man.  The top of his head was missing and his heart no longer pumped.  After an hour the undead had almost completely dispersed.  A lone zombie clawed at the window, trapped in the house.  Jeremy lay among some of his neighbors, a picture of his wife still clutched in his lifeless hand.              

“We can’t just keep driving around,” Martin grumbled. 

“That and we don’t have the gas for it and if it runs out we are screwed.  I, for one, would like the option to keep moving.”  Devin stated.  He looked down at the fuel gauge.  It was showing a quarter of a tank.  “We really should consider trying to fill up and soon.” 

“Are we that low?”  Gillian asked.

“No but the power isn’t going to last more than three days without people to take care of it.”  Devin’s response left the truck in uneasy silence.  Devin turned around and headed back to the edge of the city.

“Do you think this will last that long?  I mean for us to lose power?  What if the gas stations are out of gas?”  Matt questioned in a panic.

“Why would they be?”  Gillian inquired.

“Well if I were to try to get out of the city.”  Matt explained.  “I would make damn sure I had the gas to get as far away as possible.  Gassing up here would feel safer than trying to find a place when I’m on the highway.” 

“We’ll have to make finding fuel the number one priority.  I think there is a station up ahead.”  Devin said trying to keep his tone light. Darkness had fallen around them.  The lights of the gas station could be seen as they crested a hill.  Devin surveyed the area as they approached.  Nothing was moving, the houses nearby were all dark. 

Max and Hector began discussing who was going to cover which end of the truck.  Beth spoke up.  “I know how to handle a gun. She said pointing to the semi-automatic Hector had holstered.   “ I notice that you have an extra sidearm.” Hector looked at the young woman then at the side arm.  Max made an impatient noise in his throat.  Hector ignored him and looked back at Beth. 

“A cheerleader with weapons training?” The soldier scoffed. 

“I was the drum major actually.”  Beth replied dryly. 

“I knew it!  For the Yellow Jackets right?”  Matt interrupted.   Beth nodded, “Oh Man you guys do not have a good football team.  But… um… the band is good.”  He finished lamely taking in the look she gave him. 

Beth turned slowly from glaring at Matt to look at Hector.  “And yes I have.  My father was in the army and he taught me and my brother.” Hector gave her an evaluating look.

“Come on man!  She’s just a kid.”  Max threw out annoyed. 

Hector pulled out his side arm and handed it to Beth.  She checked the safety, ejected the clip to count the bullets.  She checked to be sure a round was chambered.   “There are only three rounds.  Do you have a spare mag?”

Hector laughed reached in his pocket and pulled out a full clip and handed it to Beth.   Devin pulled into a gas station lot.  They could barely see outside the ring of light surrounding the pumps and small convenience store.  It was a small station only having four pumps.  Devin pulled to a pump in the middle of the light.

Looking over he noticed one pump was missing its hose; the other’s was on the ground.  The store’s glass door was broken and hanging open.  The floor just inside was brownish red with dried blood.   Turning in his seat he addressed the others, “Doesn’t look good, but let’s give it a try.” 

Hector, Max and Beth jumped out of the back and took positions around the vehicle.  Devin got out and grabbed the pump from the ground, found the gas cap, “Drat!  I need the keys!”  He hissed into the cab.  Gillian crawled around the front seat to grab the keys.  Jumping from the cab, she searched through the ring quickly finding the one that opened the cap.  Behind them they heard Trevor moaning about the engine being off.   

Beth, Hector and Max were scanning the area for any movement. Their guns swept side to side ready to fire.  A light breeze swept Beth’s hair into her eyes but other than that nothing moved. In the distance they heard glass breaking and several shots.  “Well, let’s get this done while they are distracted.”  Hector whispered.  Max jumped at the sound of nozzle clattering in the gas tank.  Devin flipped the pump to the on position and nothing happened.

“We have to pay first!”  Gillian hissed to Devin.   Immediately Devin began frantically searching for his wallet.

“Here!  The city will pay for this.”  Martin was waving his credit card from the cab.

Gillian grabbed it and swiped.  “Yes it’s a credit card!”  She muttered impatiently to the pump. “No I don’t need a receipt!”  Finally with the gas flowing Devin motioned to Gillian.  She got the message and hurried back into the truck.

Time seemed to be moving slower as the gas pumped into the tank.  Something caught Beth’s attention off to her right.  It was a scraping sound, like metal on concrete. Training her weapon to the direction she thought it was coming from, Beth gave a short whistle to get the attention of her comrades.

Nervously looking around, Devin was muttering at the pump, “come on come on you have to be about full.”  He urged it to go faster , “I’ve already put in 20 gallons, how much more do you need?”   

Beth strained to see out of the pool of light into the darkness across the street.  “Whatever we have is good enough!”  She shouted over her shoulder.  Out of the blackness surrounding the station an old man was staggering toward them.  A hunting rifle hung from his outstretched arm, the butt at his elbow the barrel scraping along the street.   Behind him Beth could make out several more figures moving in the shadows.  She aimed between the old man’s eyes and fired.  He crumpled in the middle of the road.  Max and Hector were at her side in a second. 

  “Should I try for the rifle?”  She asked, wide eyed to Hector.

“What?  Hell no!”  Max stammered motioning to the shambling dead in the distance. 

“Ya know what?  I can make it.” She told the two shocked men.  With a small hop she ran forward, barely noticing the tug on her jacket where Max tried to restrain her.  Her foot falls seemed to thunder in her ears as she ran to the fallen corpse.  Reaching the body she began struggling with the sling.  Freeing the weapon she glanced over at the man’s other hand.  The red label of a box of ammo had caught her attention.  Forcing it out of the death grip she began to pat the pockets of the corpse looking for more ammunition or another gun. 

“Beth!  Look out!  Get back here now!”  Hector ordered pointing to the advancing crowd. 

Looking behind her Beth saw the other zombies were only about five feet from her.  She could see the yearning in what was left of their faces.  Straightening up she looked them in the eye for a second.  The nearest one raised it arm and let out a low moan.  That was all Beth needed, she sprinted back to the truck.

The handle of the pump clicked denoting a full tank.  Devin tapped the nozzle several times then put it back on the pump.  He waited a moment for the receipt, realized it wasn’t coming and the situation he was in.  He was in the truck in a moment with the engine running and in gear.  “What is with men and shaking the gas nozzle?”  Gillian asked, receiving a snorted laugh from Matt. 

Beth was tucking her handgun into the back of her jeans, the rifle slung over her shoulder.  She returned to the front of the truck.  Max shook his head then started to move to the back when Beth grabbed him.  “Hold on.  Hector wait.”  Hector was opening one of the back doors.  “Hector and I will l hold them off.  You should check the store; get some water and anything else we might need.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”  Max shouted.  “The truck is gassed up, the dead are coming and we need to be going!” 

Beth raised her new rifle, checking to make sure it was loaded.  She stuffed the ammo box in the pocket of her jacket and fired.  Another of the undead dropped just inside the pool of light. 

Hector looked at the panicked cop, “I’ll go.”  Banging on the hood of the truck he yelled, “Devin back up as close as you can up to the store.” 

Devin nodded and reversed to the smashed glass door.  Hector directing him from the open back door.  Beth walked backward keeping her back close to the front grill as she could.  Max’s head was quickly moving from side to side.  For every three shots he took only one found its mark.  Beth’s aim was steady and spot on.  They kept up a steady fire dropping several zombies as they back away toward the store. 

Broken glass cracked under the dual tires rear tires.  Hector yelled a halt, jumping down he hurried into the store gun raised.   He checked the four aisles but found them empty of anyone alive or dead.  Gillian and Martin quickly joined him.  Matt came scrambling after them, he looked left then right, “Ah HA!”  He yelped then ran to a door marked “restroom.” 

“Ya know, he has the right idea, it may be a while before we see another one.”  Gillian noted.  Hector, Martin and Gillian had formed a kind of fire bucket brigade tossing food and water to each other and up to Trevor in the back of the truck.  Hector yelled for Matt to take his place as he emerged from the bathroom.  The line ended as the store was mostly cleared out of necessities.   They quickly checked shelves and hit the restrooms. 

Outside, Beth fired nine shots from the rifle before it clicked empty.  She slung it on her shoulder and pulled the gun, fired the last two rounds in that.  She ejected the clip, stowing the empty one in her jacket and slapped the new one in as she surveyed the oncoming horde.   They just kept coming out of the darkness.  Hector was at her shoulder, “There is a bathroom in there, use it but make it quick.”  Beth gave a look of disgust.  “May be the last one we see for a while.”  He shrugged firing at an older man who wore nothing but a flannel shirt. 

“We don’t have enough time for everyone.”  Beth exclaimed as she backed into the store. 

“Hey we’re men.  We can go anywhere.”  He laughed.

“Men are nasty.”  Beth said lowering her weapon and running into the store.   

“You got that right sister.”  Gillian agreed as Beth passed.  “But that ladies room isn’t what you’d call clean.”  Beth groaned as she pushed the door open. 

Hector and Max slowed their rate of fire to only take down the undead closest to them.   Max was muttering under his breath.  “Why does it take them so long to pee?”  Beth gave a shout as she jumped into the back of the truck. 

Hector took a second to give the store a once over.  “That’s it!  Time to go!    Everyone in the truck now now NOW!”

  Max didn’t need telling twice.  He was in the back before Beth had even got settled.  She jumped out of his way.  Hector slammed the back doors.  “We’re all in go man go!”  In the time it took everyone to get back into the truck the dead had covered the distance of the lot.  Hands were beating the hood and windows.  Devin yelled, slammed on the gas and sped forward.  Unable to see through the zombies they drove over the end of the gas islands and several of the undead. The truck bounced hard over the concrete.  Those in the back were thrown around, bouncing all over as they sped away from a mass of about thirty undead. 

“Dude, I think I smashed the chips.”  Matt groaned rubbing his head where he had banged it off the side of the truck.  Several bags of chips had exploded when he landed on them sending crumbs all over the floor. 

Looking back at her chip covered companions Beth tried to stifle a snicker.  Suddenly she was hit a severe case of the shakes as the adrenalin left her body. She tried to busy herself by loading shells into the clip of the rifle.  Her fingers were shaking too badly to get the bullets loaded.   Noticing her trouble, Hector handed her a bottle of water.  She smiled as she took it.  She reached behind her and pulled out the hand gun to give it back to him.

“That is yours.”  He said taking the bullets and the clip of the rifle from her.  “I think we should give the rifle to someone else, if that is ok. You know spread the weapons around, or do you want to keep it?” 

Beth only shook her head, not sure if she opened her mouth if she would vomit.  Slowly she took a drink of the water.  To her surprise it was still cold.  It calmed her a little but the sight of Matt eating a chocolate cream filled cake made her stomach do a flip and she looked away.

Hector rummaged in his pockets for a couple of seconds then looked in his pack.  He emerged with a couple of boxes of nine millimeter ammo.  Handing it to Beth, she opened it and retrieved her empty clips.  Her hands were a little steadier and she began to load the bullets. Finishing one clip she fished in her pocket for the second.  Her hand grasped her cell phone.  She retrieved it and hit the buttons to call her brother.  Excitement filled her as the phone rang.  Then it rang again, then again, then, “Your call being routed to an automatic voice Mail Box…Steve McDaniel is not available.”  Beth ended the call and drew a heavy breath leaning forward and returned her shaky loading of bullets. 

Hector’s hand gripped her shoulder lightly and he whispered, “I’d take one of you over two of him,” he jerked his head to Max who was muttering to himself again.  Beth gave a weak laugh and leaned back against the steal wall.  She was suddenly so tired.