Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel (25 page)

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Authors: Richard M. Cochran

BOOK: Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel
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“Where’re ya coming from?” he asks.

“Vegas,” she replies.

“Holy crap! That must be one
hell of a job to come all this way.”

“It’s an opportunity of a
lifetime,” she says.

From along the dimly lit street,
there’s a loud bang like a trashcan being knocked over. Greg pulls his
flashlight and shines it in the direction of the noise. A shadowed figure
stumbles in the darkness, wavering back and forth.

“Fucking drunks,” Greg whispers.
“Hey buddy, take it somewhere else, would ya?”

“Maybe I should go now,” the
woman says, eyeing her rearview mirror.

Greg turns to the car. “Yeah,
you go ahead. I’ve got this,” he says, pulling his revolver. “Good luck with
the job, lady.”

“Thanks for the directions,” she
replies and turns on the headlights of the car. Lit up in front of the car is a
black, oozing form. She recoils hard against the seat. She whimpers out a
scream which becomes louder as the body stagers in front of the car, bathed in
light.

Greg turns on his heels. “What
the fuck is that?!” He backs away from the body as his flashlight swings wildly.

“Hey, I was just looking for
something to eat,” the drunk says from behind Greg’s shoulder in an inebriated
voice. “Oh shit, never mind,” he adds when he sees the corpse. With a drunken
shuffle, the man turns and starts to run.

“Stop where you are,” Greg
commands, leveling his weapon on the staggering form.

The ghoul takes an awkward step
forward, seaweed hanging from the scraps of rags that linger along its torso.

“I mean it, pal!” He aims for
the creature’s arm. “One more step and I’ll shoot!”

The body lurches forward quickly
and stumbles against the front bumper of the vehicle.

There comes a scream from behind
as the drunk is taken down to the ground by two silhouetted figures. The
shadowy figures are in the same condition as the one that is leaking out black
ooze in front of the car. Greg is distracted by the drunken man and turns his
attention away for only a moment.

“What the fuck?” he says.

Greg hears the scraping of feet
against the asphalt and turns back to the first body as it looms in over him.
He takes a shot and lands on his mark, blowing the creature’s arm off at the
elbow. Unfazed, the ghoul steps forward, reaching out. Inches away and the car
door swings wide, slamming hard against the corpse’s waist, causing it to fall
to the side with a piercing hiss.

“Get in!” The woman shouts as
she hit the automatic locks.

Without a second thought, Greg
opens the door and throws himself inside, aiming the weapon as he lands on his
back in the seat. Screeching tires rip along the street, sending white smoke up
from the asphalt. The momentum of the car slams the back door shut, leaving
Greg panting as the woman speeds away from the mayhem.

“What
was
that
?” she asks
between breaths.

“Fucking hell, lady, I don’t
know,” Greg says, still holding the weapon up as if he were ready to fire.

“Where do we go? Where do we
go?!” she asks hysterically.

“Just drive,” he replies.

 

“We drove to the police station
and told the cops what had happened,” he says. “The bastards didn’t believe
us.” He shakes his head. “I wonder if they do now.” He raises his brow and
lights another cigarette.

“So you say those things were
already decomposed?” Johnny asks.

“They were worse than decomposed,”
he says with a disgusted look. “The nasty things were like jelly. It’s hard to
believe they were being held together at all.”

“That’s weird,” Johnny says. “Do
you suppose that’s how this whole thing started?”

“I guess it’s possible,” Greg
replies between the cigarette that hangs from his lips. “I mean, that’s a few
days before the news reports started.”

“How did Scarlet and you wind up
sticking together?”

“The cops held us for
questioning, thinking we had something to do with what was going on.” He shakes
his head and looks at the floor. “We were in jail when the shit hit the fan.
Actually, we were lucky. If we hadn’t been held, I doubt we would be sitting
here talking right now.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad in the
beginning,” Johnny says, staring blankly at the corpses outside.

“You’re not kidding,” Greg
tosses the half smoked cigarette to the floor and grinds it out under his foot.
“You didn’t just have to worry about those
things
- there were the gang
riots, the looting and just plain old mass murder to contend with.” He leans
back on the bench and looks up to the ceiling. “The living are a hell of a lot
worse to deal with than the dead will ever be.”

Johnny nods in agreement.

“Listen, we’d better get some
sleep,” Greg says. “We have to come up with some type of a plan tomorrow so we
can get the hell out of here.”

“We’re leaving so soon?”

He points over to the busted
open vending machines. “Well, we’re not going to be able to survive for very
long on junk food and bottled water.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Johnny
agrees.

Greg stands up, stretches his
legs and pats him on the back. “Welcome to the apocalypse,” he says and returns
to his bench in the corner.

Johnny sits on the floor with
his back resting against the bench. His only view is the mass of bodies
blurring out the world beyond. “Yeah, the apocalypse,” he quietly says to
himself, “where waiting to die is the only entertainment.”

 He curls up on the hard floor
and closes his eyes, waiting for the nightmares to commence. He hums, letting
the vibrations of his voice shake in his chest, “
Summer Breeze…

 

The children are rustling
through the vending machines, gathering candy bars and bags of chips, along
with crackers and packages of gum into neat piles.

“Do you know how to drive one”
Scarlet asks.

“No, but how hard could it be?”
Greg replies.

“He’s right,” Johnny chimes in.
“There must be a lever or something to set the wheels on the track. I bet it
would be just a matter of pressing the gas pedal and the thing should steer
itself.”

“They have these flanged steel
wheels that keep them on the tracks. When you lift them, you can drive off and
take the truck anywhere you want,” Greg adds. “It should be pretty simple.”

“And if we’re lucky,” Johnny
says through a cough, “we might be able to find one with an onboard fuel tank.
They use them for refueling equipment on the go. I think they hold something
like fifty gallons if there’s one out there that’s full.”

“It’s still risky,” Scarlet
says, looking over at the children. “They should be our first priority.”

“It won’t be much of a priority
if
we
die from starvation,” Greg says.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Scarlet
says, nibbling at the inside of her mouth, in thought. “We’re going to have to
pack up everything the kids can gather together from the vending machines just
in case.”

“How are you feeling?” Greg asks
Johnny, changing the subject.

“A little better,” he replies.
“Not a hundred percent, but I think I can manage.”

“We won’t make our move until
you are,” Scarlet says. “You need to get hydrated before we can be sure you’re
better.”

“Yes ma’am!” Johnny says with a
smile and a limp salute.

She points at him and purses her
lips. “That’s right, don’t you go back talkin’ me,” she laughs. She turns her
attention toward the kids. “How are you making out?”

Emma stacks the last package of
potato chips onto the pile. “Good,” she says. “We were able to get all of it.”

“Yeah, and I found an extra can
of
Coke
that was hiding in the back of the machine,” Billy says.

“Good, good,” she chuckles. “Get
it all packed up into the duffle bags so we can take it with us when we go.”
She pats Billy on the head and ruffles his hair as she passes and makes her way
to the terminal doors.

She scans the yard and tries to
imagine the rail truck. The idea Greg and Johnny came up with isn’t half bad,
she thinks. If they can get through the dead, they’ll be home free.

She also imagines what might
happen if they don’t. She winces at the thought.

 

“You know, we’re not expecting
you to go until you’re ready,” Greg says. “It’s not like we don’t have time.”

“I know,” Johnny replies. “I’m
honestly feeling better. Maybe we could get out of here in the next couple of
days. Where were you planning to go?”

“The little girl came up with a
pretty good idea,” he replies. “She was heading for the mountains.”

“What, up towards San
Bernardino?” Johnny asks.

“No, I think she was going a
little farther east than that,” Greg replies. “We’re thinking of getting to a
more secluded area where the population was a bit more… sparse.”

“Sounds good to me,” Johnny
says. “Anywhere other than here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replies.

 

“I spy with my little eye…” Emma
says, “…something red.”

“That’s not fair,” Billy frowns.
“Everything outside is red.”

Emma giggles.

“Play nice, kids,” Scarlet says.
“Can’t you find a game that is a little more… wholesome?”

“Oh, okay,” Emma says,
disappointed. “New game!” she brightens.

“I get to pick this time, you
picked the last one,” Billy jumps. “Um… let’s play thumb war!”

“I don’t want to play thumb war
with you,” she shakes her head. “Your hands are too big.”

“Here, guys,” Johnny says,
handing the children a pack of playing cards. “What you have to do,” he begins,
kneeling down next to them, “is to throw the cards toward the trash can.
Whoever gets one in gets a point. You can play for M&M’s.”

“Ooo! That’s a good one,” Billy
says, grabbing the cards from Johnny. “I’ll go first.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Okay,
you
go first.”

Johnny walks back toward Scarlet
and Greg, sitting on one of the benches. “That should keep them busy for a
while.”

“You’re pretty good,” Scarlet
smiles. “Do you have any of your own?” She stops herself too late and looks to
the floor, ashamed for bringing it up.

“No, we never had the
opportunity,” he replies. “We talked about it though. We were so busy with our
jobs that we didn’t get the chance.”

“You would have made a good
father,” she gives a faint smile, curling her lips to the side and looks away.

“Thanks,” he shrugs. “Guess I’ll
never know.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Scarlet
corrects him. “We’re not done in for yet.”

“I meant with April.” He diverts
his gaze toward the dead.

“Oh,” Scarlet replies, feeling
worse than before.

“Man, you all sure know how to
bring down a party.” Greg gives a quick shake of his head. “I think I’ll go
into the bathroom and slit my wrists with the broken mirror to liven things
up.”

Johnny laughs, “Smartass.”

Scarlet giggles along with the
joke. “I’m going to go see how the kids are getting along.”

Johnny waves. “Don’t have too
much fun,” he says, leaning farther back on the bench and crosses his legs at
the ankles in front of him.

“So what do you think our
chances are?” Greg asks.

“Slim to none,” he replies. “But
it’s worth a shot.”

“That’s what I was thinking
too,” Greg says. “But it’d be nice to walk outside without worrying about
becoming dinner.”

“Here,” Scarlet interrupts,
handing Johnny a bottle of water. “Drink up.”

Johnny cracks the top and takes
a long swig. “Thanks,” he says and places the cap on the bench. “We’re going to
need to save some of that for the trip.”

“Don’t worry, we have plenty,”
she replies. “Now keep drinking.”

He smiles and takes another
drink. “Mm-mm-mm,” he says, grinning.

“That’s better.” She takes a
seat next to him. “Now what are you boys talking about all quiet?”

“We were weighing our chance out
there,” Greg says, motioning outside.

“Oh,
that
,” she says. “I
wouldn’t worry. It should be fine as long as we don’t run out of gas.”

 

“Are you ready?” Greg asks,
standing next to the door, his hand on the lever.

Johnny gives a quick nod. “Do
you have the keys?

“Yep,” he replies.

“Then I’m as ready as I’ll ever
be.”

“All right, let’s go,” Greg
says, pressing the lever.

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