Forget The Zombies (Book 3): Forget America (2 page)

“Honey, don’t get your hopes too high,” Jane said.

Jay started laughing and said, “You’re too funny, babe.”

Randell just shook his head.

“Guys, we have some zombies at the fence out back,” I said. “We need to take them out quietly if we can. You in?”

Jane answered first, “I know I am.” She went to the corner of the room and picked up a long narrow metal pole with very sharp and pointy end. She had done this before and seemed eager to give it another go.

“Yeah man, I can go,” Jay said, but seemed torn. It seemed as if he thought his plants might shoot up from sprout to full grown in just seconds and he sure didn’t want to miss it.

“Jay, they’ll still be here when we get back,” Jane said.

A voice came from over my shoulder and said, “I can go.”

I turned to see Carla. She was only thirteen, but seemed a lot older after the loss of her entire family. Her brother had been bitten and I had to kill her father when he shot one of our people in our escape from Texas. It wasn’t by choice, but more of a necessity. It wasn’t my best day, but he gave me little choice. Then her mother refused to come with us and we had to abandoned her to her fate. That made it a very bad day for Carla and all of the rest of us.

“I think you’d better sit this one out,” I said.

“I can kill them just as easy as any of you,” she said.

“I know, but we have this one.”

She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, brooding. She had the metal to do it, but I felt that she was getting a little frayed at the edges. I didn’t want to see her growing up any faster than she had to, but from the wild look in her eyes, I was beginning to think I was too late.

I turned to go and the others followed me as we made our way down the corridor toward the stairs to the first floor. The school was a modern model with wide halls lined with metal lockers. Some even had locks still dangling from them.

We had found a treasure trove of food left behind in the cafeteria when we came upon the school which made our time there easier. After our desperate run out of Texas, any food, even from a can, was welcome.

We cruised by the principals office where Chuck had his feet up on the desk.

“We’re heading out to take out some zombies,” I said as I stopped in the doorway.

He grunted and nodded his head as if I had just said we were heading out for a Sunday stroll. I don’t know why I expected more.

We continued down the hall until we reached an intersection and took a hard right, exiting out the back doors of the school and onto the playground. It had monkey bars, two tall metal sliding boards, and a set of swings. On any other day, I might have had wistful memories of my childhood, playing with my best friends and enjoying recess, but the fact that there were zombies moaning away at the back fence sort of put a quick halt to that.

Zombies at the fence wasn’t a new occurrence for us. There had been several small groups of them collecting there in the past week. We had developed a sanitized disposal method which consisted of using sharpened metal poles to jab through the fence into the faces of the zombies and into their shriveled little brains. It wasn’t a pretty job, but someone had to do it.

On this time around, we had eight of the undead pawing at the fence. They ranged from what looked like the fresher dead to a couple who looked like they had been zombified quite awhile. From the smell, that was a no doubter. You could almost get used to their undead looks, with eyes missing, parts chewed on or missing, but you never got used to the smell. There was no getting away from that and this group was quite fragrant. This aroma had none of the allure of a fancy perfume, but was the deep musky smell of decay that brought bile up into your throat.

They seemed to get more excited as we approached the fence. The feeling wasn’t reciprocal. Not at all.

As the leader, I took on the first zombie. It was large shirtless male zombie who was worse for the wear. His skin had turned a mottled gray and there were several chunks of flesh missing from his shoulder and neck. Dried blood cover his chin and neck.

I bought my pole up, took careful aim for his right eye, but he kept bobbing around, making it challenging to get a good launch point.

“Come on, you big ugly son of bitch, calm down,” I said.

And that’s what he did. For one moment, he stopped and stared at me and almost looked liked he had listened to what I had said. It was a little bit disconcerting, but that didn’t stop me from doing what I had to do. I took that opportunity to drive my pole forward, passing it through the chainlink fence, and piercing the zombies eye just as planned and drove my spear deep into the thing’s skull.

The entrance made a sickening piercing noise when it entered and made an even worse sucking sound as the zombie slid off the pole and collapsed backwards.

“That is so gross,” Jay said.

Jane stepped up to the fence, her pole up, and bobbed around on her feet for a few seconds until her zombie finally settled down. As soon as the zombie leaned in toward the fence, Jane shot forward, much like a javelin thrower.

The zombie was a slight female who looked like she had been a teenager when she was alive. She wore a Back Street Boys T-shirt which made me feel sad for some reason. I’m sure it was because she was now a zombie and not because the band was so lame.

Jane put everything she had into the thrust and the momentum did the rest and then some. Her pole struck home and when Jane pulled it back, a long geyser-like flow of blood shot forth from the thing’s now gaping eye socket and splashed onto Jane’s shoes.

“Shit, these are my favorite shoes,” she exclaimed.

“They’ll wash off,” I said.

“I know, but still,” she said getting close to whining.

We each took turns taking out zombies in this fashion. Some did better than others. Jay got tentative with one his thrusts he got his pole stuck in the side of one zombie’s head, but didn’t kill it. It flailed around for several seconds looking like human lollipop before I had to step in and put the thing all the way down.

We left the bodies of the undead there on the other side of the fence along with the others we had dispatched earlier. The pile was getting impressive, but if this kept up, we were going to have to do something about them.

Fortunately or unfortunately, that never became a problem.

We were about to enter the building when I picked up distant rumble rolling our way. When I looked up, I didn’t see a cloud in the sky and that’s what I felt my stomach almost do a double roll.

“Do you hear that, Grant?” Randell asked.

“What is that?” Jane asked.

The rumble got louder and closer.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” Randell said.

“What is it?” Jay asked.

I cut to the chase and said, “I think it’s jets.”

“Jets to do what, Grant?” Jane asked.

“When we left San Antonio, the government dropped big ass fire bombs on the city to eradicate the zombies,” I said while scanning the skies. There was nothing in view yet, but the roar was getting closer by the second. “It sounds like that again.”

All four of us stood looking into the north sky. The sky was as clear and blue as I’d ever seen it. It almost looked innocent, devoid of any bad intent or malice, which it was, but the six jets that suddenly appeared just a few miles north of us seemed as frightening as the ones that nearly blew all of us to kingdom come not that long ago.

“Should we be running inside now?” Randell asked.

I stood watching the dark blips of the jets coming closer and closer. “I don’t think so. We’re only seeing handfuls of undead here. I doubt if they’d waste the ordinance on those. I’d guess they’re headed south.”

“You sure about that?” Randell asked.

“We’re about to find out.”

Traveling at Mach 1, the jets, which were just seconds ago dark smudges on the sky, ate up the miles between us and them ravenously. They were down to just a few miles, but maintained a safe altitude. It was when they lowered to bombing run level that worried me, but I was no expert.

They kept on coming and in a few short seconds, they were on their way, then over us in a flash, and past us. When we turned to watch their southward progress, I saw them start their descent, dropping down closer to the ground.

Since we were following along the Red River, I suspect that Texas was just about ten miles south of us. The jets had dipped down to bombing level at just about that point in my best estimation.

I really didn’t need to estimate for too long because a hellacious set of booming noises sounded in that direction, followed by a fantastic orange glow that seemed to be expanding with each passing second. Randell and I had seen this before and if he was feeling like me, he probably wanted an adult diaper about then.

Even at this distance, I could see the flames. I stood partially mesmerized for what seemed like an hour, watching the flames leap upwards into the sky casting an angry orange and yellow glow across the pale blue.

Maybe it was the fact that I rarely saw such raw power in my life that left me standing, rooted in place? Despite the fact that the last time I saw it, it nearly burnt me to a crisp, I stood as still as a statue.

What brought me out of it was Jay as he came up by my shoulder and said, “Grant, dude, should we be doing something?”

“Like what?” I responded.

“Like getting the hell out of here,” Jay said.

I was about to say something when the back doors burst open and Joni came running out with Martin and Jessica. All three of them looked like they were ready to run to Ontario at that very moment and I felt like I wouldn’t be too far behind them.

“Grant, are they bombing us?” Joni shouted her question.

The doors opened again and Chuck mossied out the door, seemingly unhurried by the commotion. He looked south, his hand shielding his eyes, then looked down and spit on the ground.

“I don’t think so, but it’s awfully close,” I said.

“What do you think it is? Joni asked.

“I’m thinking they’re having problems keeping this contained and are bringing in the heavy hitters. Which makes me think they aren’t going to be able it keep it contained.”

“What should we do?” Joni asked.

Before I could respond, Robbie shouted down from the roof, “Holy shit, did you see that?”

We couldn’t miss it,” I shouted back.

We all stood in awkward silence for several seconds watching the glow spread westward, becoming more fierce by the second.

“I think we need to leave,” I said.

“But what about Texas?” Randell said, his voice sounding like a child who had just lost their favorite toy.

I turned and looked him in the eye and said, “Randell, Texas is lost for now, but I’m sure it will rise again.”

“You think so?” Randell said, reaching for some kind a hopeful straw.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said. What I didn’t tell him was that it was a good chance that Texas would rise again, but this time it would be undead.

“Let’s get everyone together and see how fast we can bug out,” I said. “Joni, can you still drive a school bus?”

She just looked at me with a scowl and shook her head.

Three hours later, we had the bus packed and after another set of trips around the neighborhood had scavenged up a few more gallons of gas. I only hoped it was enough to get us to the next town.

Randell, Robbie, and Mo helped me wrangle all the people. Jay was heartsick about leaving his sprouts behind and even brought one along in a small clay pot, saying it was a “just in case plant.” Randell wheeled Rosalita out of the school doors in a wheelchair we had obtained from the school nurse’s office. Rosalita looked miserable. Along with her bad ankle, she was still mourning the loss of Sammy, a young Hispanic kid who had died saving her life on our run out of Texas.

“Mr. Grant,” she said, “you should just leave me here. I will only slow you down.”

“Rosalita, you’re the heart and soul of this operation,” I said. “We can’t go anywhere without you.”

She managed a weak smile and reached out and patted my hand. “You’re a good man, Mr. Grant. A good man.”

I had my doubts about that. Robbie and Mo helped Rosalita up the steps and she only groaned once in pain during the move.

The last person out the doors was Chuck. I could tell a part of him was connected to the school just like Randell’s heart was rooted in Texas. There were no outward signs of distress, but just a vibe that I felt when I said we were leaving. When I invited him, Robbie, and Mo along, I sensed some hesitation from Chuck, but logic won out. That or survival.

He still had on on his dark janitor’s outfit and wore heavy black combat boots. He carried two large duffle bags that sagged heavily from the weight of what was in them. He didn’t look to be laboring from the effort as he moved from the side door of the building to the bus.

“What’s in the bags?” Randell asked.

“My stuff,” Chuck said and moved past Randell to the back of the bus. He set down one of the bags and hoisted the other one up into the back of the bus.

“You need help with those?” Jay said leaning out the back door.

“No, thanks,” Chuck said.

Jay ignored him and reached down with one hand to pick up the first bag. I saw his face strain and go red from the effort. He shook his head and grabbed the bag with both hands and, straining, was able to pull it out of the doorway.

“Told you, I don’t need help,” Chuck said as took the bag from Jay with one hand and lifted it into the back of the bus. Chuck reached up onto the floor of the bus, pulled himself up and into the bus in one fluid move that looked almost acrobatic. There was more to this man than met the eye. A lot more I suspected.

We loaded the final items on and got everyone in seats. I took a quick inventory and discovered we were missing someone.

“Where’s Robbie?” I asked.

“He said he had a couple more things to get,” Mo said, twitching nervously in his seat.

“Well, this train is leaving,” I said and started to get off the bus when the building doors burst open with Robbie pushing a cart filled with all sorts of electronic gear on it. I saw a couple laptops, something that looked like a mini-satellite dish and a vast array of gadgets and gizmos along with four car batteries.