Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (21 page)

I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know it was going to be like this
. Chris’ thoughts were shaken into reality when his hands started to soak with blood. The cloth was soaked and the blood was starting to get all over his hands.

“This isn’t going to do the job,” Chris shouted.

As he sat there making demands to help the officer, he realized that something. When he needed to act, he did. He wasn’t flipping out or anything. He was doing was needed to be done.

A shirt hit him in the face right after he said that. Chris looked up to see that Jesse wasn’t wearing his shirt. His tribal ink covered arms weren’t the only tattoos that the brute of a man had. His chest was also covered with the same crazy designs of black sharp swirls and spikes. Chris thought of that silly vampire movie called
Blade
. He just shook his head and returned his attention to the injured officer. The cop was losing it. His head cocked back and his eyes began to roll back in his head. 

Phillips fainted.    

Wrapping the shirt as tightly as he could around the wound, Chris got the bleeding to stop. He didn’t know why he was even trying; he knew better. Phillips was a goner. It would only be a few minutes before he got up and started attacking everyone else in the room.

After a moment, everyone stood together, looking down at Phillips in silence. Between Brady, Chris, Jesse and a frightened Gil, everyone was stunned. It had all happened so fast.

“What the hell do you think happened?” Jesse asked finally breaking the silence.

“The fence . . . they got in! We are so screwed!” Gil looked like he was ready to start pulling out his hair, because he was so stressed.

“Calm down, dude. I sure as shit hope you’re wrong, but I seriously doubt it. Their numbers out there are off the chain. In the hundreds. If they had gotten in, we would already be blocked into this stupid trailer waiting to die.”

“Chris is right,” Brady said. “Somebody who was already inside the school may’a been infected when they came in. Could’a finally turned.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you guys were the last ones to get here!” Jesse pointed at Brady and Chris. “So with that, explain this to me then!” Jesse looked down at Phillips and the bloody mess that was the priest’s splattered brains. There was blood everywhere. “One of your people is the infected. That’s how it goes!”

Gil was still pulling at his hair and nibbling on his fingernails with agitation. Chris had just met the man and already hated him. The guy was freaking Chris the hell out. Sure, things were not looking good at all, but at least Chris was trying to keep a level head. This guy was freaking out, which raised the stress level in the place and nobody needed that right now.

“Sounds like the only other plausible explanation,” Jesse continued. “If it isn’t the two of you . . . then that leaves the blonde, the injured kid and your wife, Brady.”

Chris sighed heavy, looking at Brady. For the first time, he felt like the old man knew it was true, but didn’t want to admit it. Something in the redneck’s eyes came across defeated, useless. Maybe he had known all along that it was Nan. There was only one way to find out and Chris knew they were about to have to do that very thing.

“If those things haven’t gotten in, we know for sure that Father Clark wasn’t sick more than an hour ago. So that tells me that there are going to be other un-friendlies we need to worry about. If we are going to do something about it, we need to act fast before things get out of fucking control.” Chris spoke with confidence. He even surprised himself. This wasn’t the same Chris from only a few hours before. Maybe he did have what it took to be a winner, to stay alive. Perhaps Father Clark had been right. In tight situations, he was destined to shine. He wanted more than anything for Garcia to have been correct in all of that. Last thing he wanted was to end up like the holy man. He thought of Stephanie and Steve. Surely, she was with Steve at the far side of the school. Where else would she have gone?

“Well, what the hell we waitin’ on?” Brady cocked another round into the chamber, his rifle firm in both hands.

“Oh, shit . . . No thanks! I can’t go out there, knowing those things are loose inside the schoolyard,” Gil whimpered. He slumped down on the couch. “I just can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“Wait a second,” Jesse scorned.  “I thought you were volunteering to go out tomorrow on the National Guard mission. You need to man the fuck up!”

“That was different,” Gil argued. “I was going to be the driver. Safe behind the wheel. No one said anything about me walking around out there with them tomorrow. I just saw it as my way out of here and first in line to get picked up by the Military.”

Jesse just glared the man down. “Seriously, Gil?”

“If you aren’t going out there, then I want your weapon.” Chris reached his hand out, gesturing for Gil to hand over his handgun.

Gil didn’t budge. He stared up at Chris like an elder to a dismissible child.

Jesse flexed his chest and bowed up at Gil. “We don’t have time for this shit!” The tribal designs bent and stretched with the curvature of his blocky figure. “You want to be a pussy and stay here, that’s fine. But I’m going to have to ask for the gun! Give it up now!” 

“Fine!” Gil blasted back. “Here, I didn’t want the damn thing anyway!”

“Got any extra ammo for it?” Chris asked taking the handgun.

Gil shrugged.

“Here, let me see that,” Brady said. “Nine mil.” He bent down and started rifling through the bundle of ammunition on the floor next to the desk. He knew exactly what he was looking for and quickly came away with two small boxes for Chris. “Here, this should cover you for a spell. Probably close to fifty rounds.”

Chris checked the gun. It was loaded down. He didn’t much like the idea of not having an extra clip, but it was better than nothing. He smiled at Brady, took the boxes and shoved them into his front pockets. They bulged like thick cigarette packs. Silently, Chris laughed at the sight to himself. He hated smokers. Didn’t find it attractive at all.

At least, Stephanie doesn’t smoke,
he thought.

“So is everybody good?” Jesse was standing at the door ready to step out into the rain.   

Chris looked up at Jesse, then down at Phillips, who lay slowly dying on the floor. His red hair was disheveled and bloody gore was splattered on it. Jesse’s shirt now knotted around the policeman’s gnawed hand was soaked with blood. He had passed out, waiting to become one of them.

“What about him?” Chris said pointing at Phillips. “He’s already dead. You guys do realize that, right?” Chris looked down at Brady’s rifle and nodded. “Somebody has to do it. He’s going to turn.”

“Hell, Gil’s the one staying behind. Let him do it,” Jesse scoffed, still standing at the door ready to leave.

“Hey, ‘F’ you pal.” Gil was slumped on the couch and flipped Jesse the bird.

Chris had a bad feeling about Gil. Not only did he not know much of anything about the guy, other than his name, the dude came off as a total whack job. One of those nuts that flips under pressure. Guys like Gil were the ones who got everyone else killed. Chris would feel better the sooner they parted company.

“We ain’t got time for none’a this ‘
who’s gonna do it’
nonsense. I got’s to get to Nan before one of them things does.” Brady aimed his rifle at the freckled policeman.

Chris could tell that Brady regretted what he was about to do. Maybe first impressions weren’t everything, but Phillips had turned out to be a nice guy. Chris hated to see the cop go like this. He didn’t deserve any of it. No one did. Brady shoved the rifle against Phillips’ forehead, looked away, and closed his eyes and mouth. As he pulled the trigger, Chris wondered if Nan really was one of them or not. Was Brady in denial or was there really a chance that she was still alive? The shot rang out, shortly followed by a wet squish of brain and skull fragments. Pink matter violently exited the back of Phillips’ head against the wall. Phillips slid down the wall that he was leaned against. A red trail of viscera and bloody brain streaked the wall as he slid to rest on the floor. No one said a thing. At least the Irishman was passed out and didn’t know it was coming. Hell, Chris didn’t even know if the guy was Irish; he just assumed it. The cop sure as hell looked the part, but that didn’t matter now. What really did matter was survival. In the end, they were all most likely destined for the same fate. It ate at Chris on the inside. He didn’t want to know when it would be his turn.

As Jesse opened the church’s restoration trailer door and stepped out into the rain, Chris prayed a silent prayer. If he was going to meet his end tonight, he didn’t want it to be something like Phillips or Father Clark. He hoped it would be quick and painless.

*     *     *

It was surprisingly dark outside. The rain was falling hard and an occasional flash of lightning in the sky would light up the Catholic school. The main gate hadn’t been breached, which was a major relief. The gunfire and activity inside the trailer had however stirred the ghouls up on the other side of the fence line. Along with their heavy steps against the pavement, Chris and the others heard the belligerent moans of the dead behind them as they moved forward. Jesse led them across the parking lot away from the trailer. With Brady following up at the rear, Chris clung tightly to his pistol with rain-drenched fingers. He was soaked, as they all were. His eyes frantically scanned the cars around them as they made their way toward the courtyard entrance. The sudden sparks of light from the sky illuminated several brick buildings to their right. Shadows of the three men appeared out of thin air against the mortar and slab. Chris jumped from simultaneously seeing his shadow and hearing the thunder crash over them. His nerves were getting the best of him yet again. He just hoped that Jesse and Brady were a bit more up to the challenge than he was. He knew he needed them more than they needed him. As much as he thought that would bother him, it didn’t.

“Shhh . . .” Jesse waved his hand back at Chris, the stomps of his big boots against cement coming to a stop.

They were at the entryway to the courtyard. Jesse glanced in quick with gun at the ready. Looking back at Brady and Chris, he said, “I don’t see anybody. A flashlight would be nice, though. I can only see so far out in the dark and this rain isn’t helping at all. Looks clear as far as I can see.”

“I should have a light in my pack,” Brady said. “I’ll lead the way. It’s at the back of the courtyard by that there wishin’ well,” he whispered and pointed to the back row of cots.

Chris and Jesse nodded, letting the old man take the lead. Crouched low, the three men stuck close to the left wall, easing their way toward Brady’s things. The yard was quiet aside from the sound of rushing water as it beat down on them from the sky. At least that was helping to cover the noise they were making. They passed three rows of cots and saw no one. Personal belongings and blankets left to soak in the rain were scattered everywhere. Chris eyed the door leading to the medic hallway and thought real hard about making for it. Steve and Stephanie had to be in there and he needed to get to them.

However, before he could make his move Brady tugged him on the shoulder. “Bravery can sometimes be a foolish move, son. We do this together, all right?”

“Where the hell is everybody at?” Chris said. “If something was going down, you would think they would have all fled to out here or something.”

“No tellin’, boy.”

“Ha . . . I’m not a little boy, old man. Just in case you didn’t notice.” Chris waved his pistol in the air. 

“Shh . . . What the hell was that?” Jesse threw a fist up between Brady and Chris’ little spat.

The other two men heard it as well. Across from where they were standing, on the opposite side of the yard, the faint sounds of slopping and grunting hisses rang out over the falling rain.

As they all looked on, trying to peer through the inky black, Chris pointed toward the noise. “We check the noise first. Flashlight later.”

Chris stepped away from the left wall and began to walk briskly toward the horrifyingly familiar sound. He despised that sound. He wished he didn’t already know what it was. He wanted more than anything to be wrong, but his imagination wouldn’t let him. He heard sudden rustling behind him and he looked back. It was his two counterparts following with their weapons drawn. Chris’ heart began to race. He knew it was going to be something bad. It could be Steve sprawled over Stephanie tearing her guts out or Stephanie devouring one of the familiar faces Chris studied during the courtyard meeting.

It was none of those, but Chris did recognize the woman even after death. Chris walked up to her quietly to get better aim in the dark. She was kneeling down and munching on one of the homeless men. His tattered clothing and dirty unkempt beard was unmistakable. He wasn’t moving. He was surely dead, his flesh still pleasingly warm to the undead woman feasting on his remains. She suddenly acknowledged Chris’ presence. She turned her head up toward him with snarling teeth and soaked straight hair. Her clothes were drenched tight to her small frame, the rain still coming down heavy. Meaty chunks of grotesque bile dripped from her bloody, dirt covered fingers. She was without a doubt the grieving woman that Nan had been sent with to console. Her eyes were glazed milky white and she glared at Chris with a soulless gaze of pure emptiness. She wasn’t interested in Chris at all and she went back to her meal. The homeless man had been mangled to ribbons. Loose tendrils barely clung to bone. She hadn’t done this by herself. It was impossible. This homeless man was food for others and this poor undead woman was the only one who decided to stick around munching on the scraps. Blood and scattered remains littered the ground around her. Bloody footprints, not yet completely washed away by the rain, were amongst the gore suggesting at least two more ghouls, but Chris was no tracker. There was no sure way to tell how many there might be still lingering close by. He looked around wondering where the other zombies were and who they might turn out to be. Chris had a pretty good idea of one and was afraid for Brady’s sake.