Slow Burn: A Zombie Novel (19 page)

"If I didn’t know better I would think he’d have left us," I joked to Mattie, trying to lighten the mood.

Stephen drove the ambulance south to Cass Street and turned west, yelling something about trying to avoid the mess we had left behind on Jackson Street when I picked him up. Looking at the fuel gage, I heard him curse the firemen for not keeping it filled up.

“
We got a quarter tank is all,” Stephen called back to us as we struggled to not be thrown on the floor by Stephen’s erratic driving. “That’s about ten gallons I think, which should get us maybe a hundred miles max. That’s plenty to get to my place, so we can worry about fuel later. I’m thinking you guys are gonna want to stop by your places and pick up some essentials?”

"Yes, and let’s try to get there in one piece if possible!" I yelled as Stephen swerved around yet another traffic accident.

"It doesn’t seem nearly as bad this way," Stephen remarked. "It's definitely going to get worse from what I saw, but we may have enough time to get out of here and back to my place before everything totally falls apart."

Stephen slowed the ambulance and let out a whistle before stopping completely.

“
That looks like Ryan’s squad,” he said. “Looks like he’s been in an accident.”

I grabbed my bat and exited the rear of the ambulance, walking to the front to try to get a look at what Stephen was talking about. Sure enough, up ahead was a wrecked squad car.

“
Stay inside,” I said to Mattie. “You don’t need to see this.”

An infected man was feeding on the carcass of a slain police officer, and even with all the damage to the body, I could tell it was Ryan. It looked like he had been killed in the crash, and I was unsure how long ago it had happened. The zombie, as Stephen was now calling them, suddenly realized I was standing there and lurched to his feet. Blood oozed from his mouth and stained the entire front of his t-shirt red. A long bloody strip of meat was dangling from its mouth as it moaned and started towards me.

Gripping my bat two handed, I walked right at it and swung it hard with a little verbal abuse as well.

“
You mother fucking piece of shit!” I crushed the zombie’s skull, and the disgusting creature fell to the ground with a sickening thud. I was locked in thought I heard Stephen from behind me.

“
He was riding with Johnny today,” Stephen said quietly, “and I think he’s still in the car.”

Sure enough, a figure came crawling out from the front passenger seat, using the driver’s side door. As it emerged, I made out that it was indeed Johnny, and from the looks of it he had been feasting on his partner as well.

“
Goddamn,” Stephen muttered in dismay.

Johnny was now heading our way. His eyes looked dead, and his uniform was caked in blood. He was not the carefree Johnny that I once knew, the one that was always quick with a joke. This Johnny was now howling with a mixture of hunger and anger on his face as he came right at us. Just when I thought I was going to have to crush his skull, Stephen walked up beside me with his Glock drawn.

“
I got this one,” he offered. “He was my friend too. Let’s let him rest in peace.”

At that, Stephen fired a single shot and promptly returned to the ambulance, not even wanting to watch Johnny fall to the ground.

“
Let’s go!” Stephen yelled, again putting the ambulance into gear before I had the chance to climb in.

I climbed into the cab of the ambulance this time instead of the back, and I had a better view of our surroundings. I was amazed to see a few living people running into a Walgreens drug store. It appeared that they were looting as several others were also seen running out with armloads of goods. Sure enough, looking at other store fronts, I could see they were being hit as well. A large black man smashed out the window of a convenience store with a cinder block and a small crowd followed him inside. It was amazing to watch; they had obviously no fear of authority. The sound of gunfire just to the north caught my attention as well.

“
Someone is still in the fight,” Stephen remarked, slowing to avoid hitting an armed man who scurried across the street towards the shots.

"Maybe Stephen is right," I called back to Mattie, offering her a reassuring smile. ”Not everyone is dead. We’ll make it out of here. And by the way, does your radio work? Stephen and I have both lost ours."

"No," she replied, "I haven’t heard anything from dispatch in a while. I think we have lost the station to these...."

"They’re zombies!" Stephen chimed in. "We’ve already seen enough dead coworkers today. We can check on the station later. I wanna get home and do some refitting, and we could all use some rest after what we’ve been through."

As we got close to the Des Plaines River that runs through the downtown area, we were disheartened to see that the drawbridge over the river was up. The bridges were a constant cause of traffic delays as they must rise to let passing barges through. Looking up and down the river, I didn’t see any barge traffic and decided to go have a look. Working midnights, I’d had a chance to shoot the shit with the bridge tender, Frank, a few times, and maybe he was still here. Stephen slowed the ambulance to a stop, and I told Mattie to provide some cover while I investigated. Exiting the side door, I walked up to the stone structure that housed the bridge tender. It was rock solid with a steel door and contained a small apartment that should have kept Frank out of harm’s way for an extended period of time. I noticed there was a stalled-out car pushed to the side of the road and it appeared a few buildings had the front windows smashed out, but there were neither people nor any zombies in sight. I had to pound on the door several times with my asp before Frank's head appeared in the small glass window.

"What's up with the bridge, Frank?" I asked with only a slight edge in my voice. "We really need to get across."

"I can't do it, Mike. Got orders straight from Springfield to raise these bridges and not let anyone cross," Frank replied while shaking his head. "Sounds like some kind of quarantine. And people are acting crazy… I saw that car over there get mobbed by a group of people, and they chased the whole family right over the wall into the river! The mob just jumped in after them, and they all got swept away. Happened so fast I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Tried calling 911 but got no answer. I think people are getting sick or something.”

"Listen!" I responded with a raised voice. "You know me damn it! Now look at me! I’m not sick and have seen firsthand what is going on. We’re all in a world of shit, and it's only gonna get worse, and quick I might add.”

Frank looked shaken up at my response. “W-What is going on out there, Mike?”

A quick recap of my observations and experiences over the last couple of hours went a long way toward convincing Frank to lower the bridge. Leaving him Sherman’s Glock 17 along with his two extra magazines sealed the deal. Frank informed me that since losing his wife to cancer last year he had no reason to even go home and was going to try to ride it out in the bridge house. He had a lot of food and water, a bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all in a secure two-story building.

“
It’s got a satellite dish too,” Frank added. “Maybe I can find something out on TV.”

"Not a bad spot to be in," I said and gave Frank a thumbs up in the direction of the tower as the bridge began to lower. "I'll try to make it back in a few days to check on you."

“
Be sure to,” Frank said. “I’ll be here.”

I ended up having to race back to the ambulance for the second time when it appeared Stephen was again content with leaving me behind, already having the big GMC on the move. Mattie helped pull me in the back door with a chuckle.

"Try and keep up, bitch!" she chided.

I could barely make out from Stephen up in the driver’s seat. He honked the horn to Frank as he crossed the bridge.

After we reached the west bank and rolled into a residential area, Stephen slowed the ambulance yet again when he saw two women with a small child waving us down.

“
Oh thank God,” the younger women pleaded. “You have to help us. My little boy got attacked by our old neighbor lady and is bleeding pretty bad. I called 911, but nobody answered. It took my mother and me everything we had to pull him away from her, and we both got cut up by her pretty bad, and need help.”

“
We’re not paramedics,” Stephen replied, making sure his door was locked and the window left mostly up.

The boy looked to be in a comatose state, and Stephen knew there was no saving any of them.

Mattie crawled into the cab and looked at the women carefully. She didn’t like what she saw.

“
You all got bit by the woman?” she asked with remorse.

“
Yes! But my daughter and I are fine!” the older woman screamed. “You have to help my grandson!”

She was in full panic mode and tried to open the door. Finding it locked, she pounded the window in frustration and began screaming. “Let us in! Let us in right now!”

Mattie tried thinking of something to say but was spared the trouble by Stephen, who simply drove away and left the trio standing on the side of the road. Mattie sank back into the rear of the ambulance, subdued.

“
It’s for the best, Mattie,” I tried to explain. “There’s nothing we could have done and it would just be a waste of time to try.”

Stephen hit some mostly empty side streets and quickly covered the few miles to my neighborhood, only having to drive through a couple of yards to avoid traffic. He didn't even bother to use the siren, knowing it would only draw unwanted attention. The people we did see had a grim mix of determination and helplessness on their faces, heading either on foot or in vehicles to their various destinations. Some towards home for perceived safety and others just out and away, with no place to go other than away from here. We heard a few loud thuds, and felt them from the side of the ambulance.

“
What was that?” Mattie asked.

“
We are being shot at,” Stephen said. “I guess someone else wants the ambulance. It’s coming from over there.”

He pointed to the north, and, sure enough several armed men could be seen firing our direction. Around them people were running and several got cut down by the seemingly indiscriminate rifle fire. It looked fairly obvious that they were not yet infected. Stephen hit the gas and made a quick left turn down a side street.

“
This pisses me off!” I yelled up to Stephen. “We need our rifles up and running. I don’t wanna bring a pistol to a rifle fight. It’s gonna be the law of the jungle from here on out, brother, but we don’t have the time to deal with these shitheads right now!”

The scene playing out in front of us became even more ominous when we began to hear the sound of the tornado sirens, which had been apparently going off in the central district of town. The final piece of the morbid landscape fell into place as a flight of U.S Army Blackhawk helicopters thundered overhead. This momentarily distracted Stephen who, like a five year old, was fascinated by aircraft.

“
Keep your eyes on the road or we will be walking,” I warned him.

“
Relax, I got this,” Stephen replied as we bounced abruptly off yet another curb.

I was about to reply, but my attention was drawn to a scene playing out in a large park near my house. A very overweight man was running through the open grassy area maybe two hundred yards to our right, with every ounce of determination he had. He appeared to be rapidly running out of steam and the groups of zombies chasing him were swiftly closing the gap. Just as I was about to mention to Stephen that we should stop and help, the fat man tripped and fell. Before he could rise he was swarmed, so I didn’t bother to say anything. I looked over and was relieved to see that Mattie had not noticed the fat man’s last minute alive.

It was just as well, she didn't need to see that either.

Pulling up to my humble abode was disheartening. It seemed to be intact, but several of my nearby neighbors’ homes already looked abandoned or damaged in some way. Several garage doors were left open and the occasional front door, classic signs of bugging out in a panic. My neighbor across the street could be heard hammering wood planks over his windows.

“
To take off or barricade yourself in,” I pondered. ”What a choice.”

And that is if you were lucky enough to still be alive at this point. Many people were probably en route to their homes when this all went down and got stuck in traffic. Add flesh eating zombies to rush hour traffic and you could most likely guess what happened to them.

“
It’s amazing what people are capable off when they panic,” Mattie said in wonderment of the damage.

“
That’s one thing I have always worried about in a breakdown,” Stephen replied.

In the darkening gloom, I could see furtive movements in the shadows, unknown if friendly or foe from where I stood. But I didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“
I’ll pull guard duty while you load your stuff, Mike,” Stephen offered. “Just make it quick, and get some ammunition for your M4.”