The Undead Situation (27 page)

Things were not looking good, and I was smart enough to admit it. Out of desperation, I grabbed the Glock, releasing it from its holster, and shoved it under the bed behind Blaze. I had to give her a chance, at least. The shotgun was just a few feet away in a pile of blankets. Although, they wouldn’t suspect Blaze had a gun, and though she was still a bit groggy, I know she’d be alert soon.

Before I crawled to the shotgun two men burst through the doors, wielding hunting rifles. They weren’t surprised to see me, and wasted no time in giving me a few sucker kicks before grabbing me and lugging me back down the hall. Blaze watched me go. The same man who hit me with the bat was up and out of the room, following the three of us as he went.

As they manhandled me out of the room, I couldn’t find Jenny in the hallway. The door to the room with the women was also closed. Screwing my eyes shut, and having an unusual amount of hope in my heart, I wished for Jenny to keep on being helpful.

I was dragged through the bloody mess of the man I’d murdered with the shotgun. Thick, sticky blood drenched my hair and neck. The iron scent filled my nostrils.

“We got a special deal for you, buddy,” one of the hulks said. “Oh yeah. We do.”

We were at the stairs, and they kept on dragging. My body reeled in pain as I thudded down the stairs one at a time. The staircase was no longer than most, but it seemed infinitely long when pulled down it.

Once at the bottom, I noticed we were in the main congregation room. Corpses were nailed up on the walls and blood was everywhere. A putrid scent of urine and feces mixed with smoke made me gag.

The crazies had taken to lighting fires in metal barrels. Firelight danced on the walls, illuminating the repulsive figures nailed there. It was a regular old house of horrors, not like I was affected by that kind of crap anymore.

They stopped near one of the pews and jerked me around, tying me to the solid, wood bench. I tried struggling, but the pain in my back made my limbs numb.

“We’re gonna be right back. We’re gonna get Pastor North, and you’re gonna get it.”

Idle threats. I really didn’t care. My head felt fuzzy. The two main doors were only barricaded with a big wooden slab that rested in slots, which meant I could escape through those. Hypothetically.

There were surprisingly few men inside the church. There were more than twenty back at the house, but now it seemed as though there were half that. And I’d killed two of them. Those that remained stood on the raised area behind the podium, where there were more pews and an organ, as though they were waiting for orders.

I heard a single round of a pistol go off, the one Jenny had, and my spirits lifted. There was no way to know if she fired the round, but I sure as hell hoped so.

A shotgun went off once, twice, from upstairs. Shouting started up again as well as screams of women. Rage filling me, I pulled at the ropes restraining me, wanting to get up there and get a piece of the action for myself. What I wanted more was to protect Blaze and not fail so miserably again.

A loud, splintering caught my attention. It was coming from one of the boarded windows on the wall opposite the staircase. An axe broke through, casting shards of sunlight into the giant room.

Somewhere near the front of the room, muffled voices and wood slammed against wood sounded.

Something was going on and I was completely defenseless.

The window gaped open and people began climbing through, some of them with guns and some with melee weapons. They were afraid, and some of them shook from the effort of climbing through. None of them saw me, as they congregated around the window. Michael hauled himself in, appearing confident, and I felt better about the situation at hand.

My restlessness grew and I bellowed for someone to untie me, but no one came. Those coming through the window were clearly filled with terror and incapable of fighting the better armed, better skilled lunatics.

I heard noise from the staircase and craned my neck to see who it was.

Blaze. Beatrice fucking Wright.

The front of her shirt was stained red with fresh blood. She took a few steps toward me, but stopped when she noticed what was going on, diving behind the pews across from mine. In her hand was the shotgun I had dropped. I looked past her and saw Jenny peek around the wall of the stairs. She grinned at me and waved the pistol.

She was a miracle if I ever saw one. She didn’t need my saving—she could save herself.

Blaze’s muscular arms twitched, then her whole body went into motion. She did a flawless dive across the aisle separating us and crashed up against me. She dropped the shotgun and tried to untie me. Sweat glistened on her forehead and her face was set in a deep grimace.

“Knife in my belt,” I rasped. “Hurry.”

Blaze finally located the knife and sliced through my bonds in a jiffy, then helped me move into a sitting position. She shoved the Mustang keys in my hands and pulled out the .40.

She said, “I’ll cover you. We’re leaving through the window.”

I nodded, and adrenaline filled me to the brim again. Standing up, I caught a glimpse of the war. Survivors and crazies crouched behind pews, both sides taking potshots at each other. More of the church members came in from a side door and joined in shooting at Michael’s people. I wasn’t sure which side was winning, but a handful of survivors were on the ground bleeding and moaning.

The church was a deathtrap. People were dying, and it wasn’t secure with the open door and broken windows. We had to get out.

I closed the distance between myself and the window and vaulted through it, hoping Blaze would make it, too. A second later she was out, and we were running around the church. Howls of the undead and screams of humans faded away the farther we ran. The tennis court teemed with slows, so we curved our path around them, making it to the blessed Mustang in no time.

“They opened the roadblocks when they took me,” Blaze said.

“Good.”

The Mustang went from stationary to fast in no time. Startup, and all of its problems, disappeared in my rearview window.

“That worked out nicely.” Blaze’s voice sounded nasally from the blood still dripping from her nose. By the look of it, it might’ve been broken.

“Compared to what it could’ve been, yes.”

The forest around us was bathed in golden sunlight. Between the time it took for me to wake up and the time it took to rescue her, hours had passed.

This is all coming to an end
, I thought.
Kellogg Lake Road, the cabin, is minutes away
.

Just as I finished my thoughts, we drove past a yellow sign pointing to the very road. I let off the gas and slowed down, but Blaze touched my shoulder.

“Keep driving. They could drive after us, but if it looks like we’re long gone, they might give up.”

Nodding in agreement, I returned the car to a safe forty miles per hour, thankful the road was paved. They could’ve tracked our tire marks otherwise. My head and torso throbbed in pain, reminding me of the beating I sustained earlier. A profound lust for a bottle of painkillers overtook me. The craving itself almost hurt.

Her voice slithered in the dark car. “I wouldn’t have left you.”

I stole a glance at her. The golden hour revealed very slight red strands in her otherwise raven black hair. Bruises formed all over her face. Blood dried around her chin and nose.

Quickly turning my eyes back to the road, I replied, “Thanks, I guess.”

We passed trees and the occasional house set back far from the highway. The setting felt so normal—just a drive in the pretty weather in a nice car. Indulging my newly recognized fantasy for normalcy, I basked in it.

I looked at her again, and she turned her head so that our eyes met. Blaze’s lips curved up into a tiny smile. “You’re not so bad, sometimes.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “I can’t tolerate most people. In fact, I usually want to kill them. You’re different though, so I like that.”

I remembered back in Monroe when she asked if I was attracted to her. Though I tried to be indirect with my answer, I had a feeling she knew very well that I had the hots for her.

“I feel the same,” I said, giddiness coming over me, accompanied with a lightness in my stomach.

“Just because I’m skilled and a better shot than you, doesn’t mean…” She stared out the window then finished. “I don’t know. This is all very foreign to me.”

“What is?” I prodded, wanting something concrete from her.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. The apocalypse. It forces us to reevaluate ourselves and what we’re willing to admit. I’ve never known how to talk about my feelings, so I certainly don’t know how the fuck to do it now.”

I laughed and took one hand off the steering wheel to pat her on the shoulder. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Do you think I find a suitable woman often?”

“Suitable woman?”

Our eyes met again and I reached up to touch her chin. “Suitable woman.”

She smiled big enough to reveal her chipped canine. My hand fell away from her face and she turned away. “This is crazy. I never thought—”

The bridge up ahead was missing a huge section in its middle. Blown up. I had just enough time to view the giant, gaping hole one would typically drive over, and slam on the brakes, but it was all too late.

The Mustang flew right over the crumbling edge and into the rocky embankment on the side.

* * *

Somewhere in the distance, a frog croaked at even intervals, while crickets rubbed their legs together incessantly. Rushing water added to the mix, creating a symphony of natural music. Outside was bathed in a pleasant post-sunset light.

If every part of my body hadn’t been vaguely tight or in excruciating pain, I would’ve taken time to appreciate the ambiance. I was slumped forward, head resting on the steering wheel, preventing me from any form of relaxation fitting to the music outside. The Mustang was at a downward angle, so my seatbelt dug painfully into my chest and stomach. Slowly, I became aware of the water that sloshed around in the car. My legs were soaked and cold.

The smell of gasoline and oil had been giving me a headache while I was asleep, and now that I was awake I could really appreciate it. Both of my temples were knotted and throbbing with red hot pain.

I raised my head just a tad and saw that the windshield was completely missing. An old log jutted from its center and into the car. Rotten vegetation coated it, some stray pieces floating in the Mustang.

Regardless of the pain and effort it took, I turned my head to see Blaze.

She wasn’t there.

I glanced in the backseat, but saw nothing. Our weapons were gone, too. Angie and her people took all of them when they made their push against the crazies.

“Blaze?” My voice cracked and blended in with the sounds of the river.

She flew out of the car
, I told myself.
That’s what happened
.

As I unbuckled my seatbelt, I maneuvered into the back to retrieve anything of use. Pickle scampered around on the back window. I found and unzipped my backpack, leaning across the backseat so she could climb onto my arm, then into the safe, dry bag. She did so without hesitation, for which I was grateful. Any more difficulties and I’d have had a mental breakdown.

It was challenging, getting out of the car. My door was pressed closed by a huge rock, so I slithered out of the window and up onto the gravel bank. The rocks were moist and hot from the heat of the day. The warmth of them seeped through my ungloved hands as I slipped and grabbed, making slow progress upward.

Once I got up onto the crest of the slope, I glanced around. The other side of the river teemed with undead. They fell into the water in attempts to get to me, but the current on that side swept them away effortlessly, along with the contents of the Mustang’s trunk, which had broken open, releasing all the food Blaze and I had gathered.

All that candy, gone. All the medicine, food, and water, gone. Collectively, I’d argue that my luck was fucking terrible. I couldn’t hold on to items or people for more than a few days.

Gathering my wits, I began looking for her. I walked down the road and searched the ditches on either side, but she wasn’t there. I even risked yelling until I was too nervous of the attention it would draw. Night was coming. My vision was degrading, but I kept looking until it wasn’t safe to go on.

My head still hurt and my body ached until I could think of nothing else. I returned to the bridge, trying to form a plan as I hobbled along. I had to get back across the river and onto Kellogg. If Blaze was alive, she might’ve crossed it and went looking for the cabin.

The top structure of the bridge was still intact; only the cement was gone. I walked to the cutoff and studied it for a moment, before committing to a plan. If I waited long enough, all the stiffs on the other side would be gone, having jumped off the bridge, I could climb over the bridge to the other side. Kellogg Lake wasn’t far from there.

My body screamed at me when I sat down on the hard road. Coming up with a thousand ways Blaze could still be alive would pass the time until I heard the last Z jump.