The Dead Road: The Complete Collection (9 page)

"Fucking hell!" Roger said.  I heard a thump against the side of the Jeep.  One of them had broken their window, and was trying to grab on to us as we passed.  If we didn't make it through we would be trapped here, surrounded, forced to try to make it on foot.  I closed my eyes.

Metal scraped against metal as we pushed past the car we tipped.  I heard the other car shift, spinning in place as we pushed against it, glass crunching underneath.  More breaking glass.  Amy screamed.  Eli squirmed and thrashed.  I opened my eyes.

The dead driver had broken the window above it, the one that my face was pressed against not minutes before, and had grabbed hold of Eli's ankle.  He was kicking furiously.  Roger stopped.  Eli's foot was outside of the Jeep.  That thing had his ankle in a vise-like grip.  "Get it off, man!  Get it off!"

"Pull!  Get your foot inside!"  Roger shouted.

"What?!"

"Get your fucking foot inside the roll-bar!"

The clouds in my head parted.  I snapped into reality.  Everything came into stark clarity in that moment.  I grabbed Eli under his arms and pulled.  He shrieked in protest as the thing lurched out of the broken car window and got closer, trying to climb out of its trap.  I pushed Eli's leg, wedging the thing's arm against the roll bar. "NOW!"

Roger put his foot to the floor.  The Jeep roared and jumped forward.  The force of the movement pushed against the thing's arm.  I heard a loud pop as its arm snapped.  The hand went limp.  The dead flesh tore, the broken bones ripping through.  We pulled away, leaving the horrible thing behind, it's hand still resting against Eli's ankle.  Amy grabbed it and threw it into the street with a disgusted squeal.  Eli's foot and sock were stained with blood.

He was still panting, hyperventilating with fear.  I shook him, "Eli!  Are you hurt? "

He looked up at me, then shook his head.

I looked back towards the fire truck, and the mass of cars beyond.  The things were shuffling through them but the narrow channel acted as a bottleneck.  They clustered and pushed against one  another, fighting to move through to resume their pursuit.

Roger reached back to pat me on the shoulder.  "You back with us, champ?"

"Yeah," I said, "I think so."

"Bad time to shut off, you know.  That was almost a serious clusterfuck."

I nodded with a resigned sigh, "Yeah, I know.  Sorry guys.  I just... lost it."

Amy said "Are they still behind us?"  She kept her head down, staring down at Eli's calves across her lap.

I looked again.  Roger was racing down the road as fast as he could push us safely, and the messy intersection was long behind us, and now out of sight.  "I can't see them but, I have to assume they are.  That mess bought us some time, but not the kind of time I would risk more than a couple of minutes on.  They'll be clear of that soon enough, and it's nothing but open road between here and there."

"At least Stapleton's will be empty!" Roger patted my shoulder again, then gave Eli a clumsy pat on the stomach. "How about you, boss?  You okay?"

Eli just nodded.  I could see tears forming in his eyes, but he looked away and closed them.

I took his shoulders in my hands and started to guide him, helping him sit up between us. 

"C'mon brother, you're alright.  We made it."

He squirmed into the space in the middle of the seat and nodded again, "Yeah, man.  We made it."

I looked to Roger. "How far to Stapleton's?"

"Just up on the right, less than a mile."

I gave him a quick thumbs up.  "Good.  Let's get as much food and ammo as we can carry and put this nightmare behind us."  I smiled, trying to add a little levity to the situation, "I'm sick of this town."

No one got the joke.

****

We pulled into the empty parking lot, driving up as close to the door as we could.  The splintered hole in the doorframe was a stark reminder of how this day started and of the ever-growing horde of undead shambling its way down Route 67 towards us.  I looked into the darkened doorway, swallowing down a ball of fear that rose in my throat.  "Alright guys, we got about fifteen minutes.  Grab everything we can use.  Guns, ammo, canned food, bottles of water, first aid supplies, and anything else you think we need.  Don't waste trips on beer and soda."

The others hastened out of the Jeep and went inside, I following close behind with my limping gait.  The lights were off, and the whole store smelled vaguely of rotting meat and spoiled milk.  The entire left side of the store was flooded, an inch of stagnant water pooled on the tile, caused by all of the various refrigeration and freezer units that had shut down, made even worse by the clouds of black particles floating about, possibly left there by the rotting feet of the monsters that spent all that time standing in them.  The shelves that made up the four aisles of the store were ransacked, but the piles of items knocked to the floor told me that people just grabbed stuff as the outbreak began, but there hasn't been any major looting since.  The back corner where the guns were kept wasn't nearly so full.

The racks that once held rifles and shotguns were empty.  Shells and rounds of all sizes were strewn about the floor and the counter, as if someone went through them in a hurry grabbing what they thought they needed.  I headed there first, sloshing through the foul puddles, hoping to find at least ammunition for the guns we had.  Amy was already carrying and armload of four gallons of water out to the Jeep, while Roger and Eli were loading up a cardboard box with everything canned they could find.  I looked at the shelves of liquor from the gun cabinet.

"Roger."

"Yah?"

"Grab those bottles of grain alcohol.  I see about twenty of them."

He chuckled, "I thought you said don't waste space on luxuries."

I smiled, "No, you ass.  Grain.  Good for sterilizing wounds, good for purifying water, and good for starting fires."

"Purifying water?  Really?"

I nodded as I moved behind the counter. "Yep.  Read that in a book somewhere I think.  Take some strong alcohol, a shot worth, and pour it into a gallon of water and shake it up.  Doesn't work as well as boiling it, but in a pinch, can kill a good chunk of the stuff swimming around in it.  Better than dehydration."

"Ten-four, grain alcohol.  Next trip."  He hauled the full box up onto his shoulder and carried it out.  Eli went to the back of the store to get another box, mumbling about how fast he's going to get sick of canned corn.  I started giving the firearms section a thorough investigation.

The cabinets were emptied, but there were still display cases, holding a good selection of handguns.  Below the cases were drawers of ammo as well, most of it still in the correct boxes.  "Bingo," I said to myself, pulling out boxes of shells for the shotgun and rounds for my rifle.  "Amy!" I called as she came back from her second trip of water.  She looked over to me inquiringly.  "After your next trip start carrying these."  She nodded and went back to the refrigerator case for water.  I started piling up boxes of ammo, then spotted a heavy duty camping pack on the other wall.  I limped over, grabbed it, yanked out
the paper it was stuffed with for display, then started loading the ammo in.

I had the backpack full before Amy came back, loaded with ammunition and a few handguns as well.  "Alex? Do you have binoculars?"

I looked around, then dug a nice, sturdy pair out of the display case.  "Why?"

"I... " She took the binoculars, hesitating to finish her though, "I thought I saw someone, at the top of the hill.  Someone alive."

My eyes widened, "Shit, yeah, go, go look."  I started zipping the pack closed, the contents already weighing it down to capacity.  She almost jogged outside, past the Jeep out into the parking lot, peering through the binoculars.

Roger came in and looked at me with a quizzical expression. "What's she looking at?"

"Says she may have spotted someone, a survivor."

Eli came out of the back with an armload of dried sausages and other cured meats.  "Great, another mouth to feed."

I paused, my eyebrows furrowing.  I hadn't thought of that.  I was so fixated on joining up with other survivors, I didn't consider that they would be a drain on resources.  More food eaten, more water drank, and more ammo used to protect.  I shook my head, ending the internal argument.  Right now we weren't going to turn people away.  There were still supplies out there to be found.  Stores to raid, and plenty of game to hunt, and we were in the Vermont wilderness, not the Sahara.  Water would fall from the sky regularly, either as rain or snow. "The more the merrier, Eli.  We'll do better in a larger group."

He grumbled as he walked out.  I didn't think he was convinced, but he wasn't willing to fight it.  Some day in the future, when our supplies were running low and we were rationing food he'd remind me of this.  Eli preferred "I told you so" moments over arguments.

Looking past Eli I could see Amy waving her arm, smiling, jumping up and down.  I heft the pack over one shoulder with a groan and made my way outside.  She looked at me as I came out, "Alex!  Oh my god that's Zack!"

"Zack?  Do we like Zack?"

She laughed, looking back through the binoculars. "He went to high school with Parker.  His family lives on Birch road, higher up from here.  Maybe they're better off, right?"

I grunted as I dropped the pack into the back of the Jeep.  We were already almost fully loaded, everything stacked haphazardly atop one another behind the seats.  "Is he coming our way?"

"Yeah, he's walking down!"  She smiled, bouncing excitedly on her feet. "Zack!!" she called out.  She handed be the binoculars and started to jog up the hill towards him.

I had a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on what.  I leaned against the pile of goods in the Jeep, resting my folded arms on the pack, watching Amy jog gleefully towards the slowly walking boy.  I lifted the binoculars to my eyes to look up at the newcomer.

He was thin, wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, his hands in his pockets as he walked.  His brown hair was mussed, giving him a windblown look that seemed somehow out of place.  He didn't smile, and kept looking back over his shoulder as he moved, as if he was waiting for something.  Amy was excite, talking in a streak of "oh my gods" and "I can't believe it's."  When they got close she hugged him.  He pulled his hands out to wrap his arms around her.  Then I heard the distinct sound of an engine starting, roaring to life.  I gasped, watching as an oversized pickup pulled out of a driveway and drove down towards them at high speed.  It was white and gray two-toned, with wide dual tires in the back and an oversized cab.  Amy squirmed but Zack held her fast with his left arm.  Then I saw the pistol in his right, and he pointed it down the hill, aiming at me.

The shot rang out.  I saw gravel spit off the ground to my left.  I ducked instinctively, dropping the binoculars.  Roger came out of the store, "Was that a gunshot?"

"DUCK!" I yelled, getting behind the Jeep.  Roger looked up the hill then cut back into the store.  I heard another shot hit the ground nearby.  Amy screamed.  I hazarded a glance to see the truck beside them, Zack helping lift her into the arms of three other men in the back of the truck.  She kicked and screamed while Zack climbed up onto the tailgate.  "

AMY!"  I shouted.  I'm not even sure why I did.  Tears were welling in my eyes.  Zack took aim and fired again.  The Jeep shuddered as the front tire on the other side went flat with a loud hiss.  Amy disappeared from sight, held down below the sides of the bed.  Zack hopped in and slapped the side of the truck twice.  The driver, a much older man with a Red Sox cap and mirrored sunglasses, looked my way as they drove past.  Roger and Eli rushed out in time to see the truck turn left on 67, turning away from the direction we came, away from the approaching horde.

"Jesus fuck," I heard Roger say.

I hung my head. "They took Amy.  Snatched her right off the road.  That fucker Zack, whoever he is, he set her up."

Eli looked at the Jeep, "Shot out our tire!  Fuckin' A, man!  We gotta get that shit changed!"

Roger punched the doorway.  "FUCK!  Alex, go to the edge of the lot and look down 67 with the binoculars.  See if those goddamned things are in sight yet.  C'mon, Eli, lets get that spare off the back."

I nodded and wiped my eyes.  I could only imagine what those brutes were going to do to her.  The world was going to hell, and they were welcoming the devil with open arms.  Words like "Breeder" and "Sex slave" ran through my head.  My hands shook.  I leaned against the payphone at the end of the lot for a moment, then brought the binoculars up to my eyes, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.

I looked up the road.  The trees blocked most of my view, and the road curved gently to the left, so I knew I only had a limited vantage, but as I focused on the bend I felt my heart skip a beat.  There was only one, a man in a hospital gown, the front covered in blood, dragging an empty IV bag behind him, still attached to his forearm by a few feet of rubber tubing.  It was just one, but I knew, behind him were dozens, if not hundreds more.  "I see one, guys."

"How far?"

"Just at the bend, following the road."

I heard the jack clicking as Eli cranked it, lifting the front end of the Jeep slowly higher.  Roger was unscrewing the lug nut that held the spare in place.  "Means he's about a quarter mile or so out."

I calculated in my head, assuming their shuffle was a steady one and a half mile per hour, about half as fast as a normal walk.  "You guys got ten minutes till they're on us."

"Right, no fucking pressure man."  Eli said through clenched teeth, working the crank on the jack as fast as he could.

I put the binocular back to my eyes and watched the single zombie I could see.  I found myself wondering who he was, why he was in the hospital in the first place.  Was he a terminal patient?  Was this outbreak a chance for him to go on when he wouldn't have lived out the summer anyway?  Was this just the next evolutionary step for us?  From humans, vulnerable to diseases and the environment, now undead, nearly immortal beings of single-minded hunger.  I wondered if there was any coming back from this, or if the world had already ended, and we just hadn't caught up to it yet.

Then I thought of Amy.  Her scream as they hauled her into their truck.  The look of fear on her features as she kicked and thrashed, trying to get away.  "We have to save her."   I spoke the words softly.  There was no way the other guys could hear them, but I felt the need to say them aloud.  The words sounded right to me.

More zombies were coming in to view.  Another fifteen or so had shambled around the corner.  I could hear the soft chorus of hissing groans on the wind.  I turned and limped back to the Jeep.  "We have to save her!"

Roger looked up at me from the spare tire as he rolled it to Eli. "Do we?  C'mon, Alex.  We have no idea where they went."

"Amy said Zack lived on Birch Road.  She said the house was up higher, and probably more defensible.  You know where that is?"

Roger shook his head, "No, and going in against those guys, how many were there?  Five?  Six?  And that was just in the truck.  What are we going to do?"

Eli backhanded him across the arm, "Shut the fuck up and help me with this tire, man!  We gotta go!"

I limped back inside the store and looked back and forth, scanning the racks of newspapers and magazines.  Folded and tucked in to one end was a packet of maps, "Windsor County, Vermont" printed in bold letters across the front.  I grabbed them, pausing a moment to look over the newspapers.  They were all dated five days ago.  The New York Times, the Boston Herald, and the Wall St. Journal all laid side by side with the Vermont Chronicle and the Valley News.  The headlines made my throat clench.  Explosion in Massachusetts, Chemical Plant Bombing, Terror in Worcester, Chemical Company Newest Target.  Was that what started all of this?  Did some experimental chemical get unleashed?  Or did some toxic cocktail mix in the flames of the explosion and doom us all?  Worcester was over a hundred miles from here.  If this was the center, and it spread this far in only a couple of days, the containment would be far south of here, if at all.