Impact (26 page)

“It’s time,” I said to Jim. “Let’s do this.”

“A little more,” he answered. “Keep going.”

He threw another quick jab at me, but I ducked it, and the punch flew right over my head. Jim then moved forward to deliver an uppercut. I rose up and bent my arm to block, then straightened my body to launch a swing to his jawline. He took it like a man, and it hardly fazed him. Jim then threw a straight left, but I countered by thrusting another rough kick into his gut. He grunted but then threw a swing. I raised my arm to block it, then threw an uppercut against his chin with so much force that his head bounced back like his neck was made of rubber. He seemed daze for a few seconds but then came back swinging. My right hand found my way past Jim’s defenses, and I slammed into him with series of short, rapid, furious blows.

“Harder!” Jim said. “You gotta make it look real.”

I hammered my fists into his face, till he could barely breathe under the force of my constant blows. A moment later, we were rolling on the stage, furiously wrestling our way over to the blind spot at the northeast side. When Jim’s head hung over the stage, the zombies began to act like sharks in a feeding frenzy, swarming up on him in hordes and ripping and tearing at each other to get closer to their prey. They lifted their bony, greenish hands up toward us, moaned, and shuffled closer and closer, till their teeth were just inches from Jim’s ears, but we were just high enough that they couldn’t reach us.

“Look!” Jim said, pointing down beneath the stage. “See it?”

“I see a rack of bicycles,” I said.

“Behind that. Look closely!”

I peered closer. “Yeah! There’s a loose panel.”

“Yep! We move that panel. Slip under the stage. Disappear into the manhole.” 

I hesitated, still worried that the plan was way too risky. “The zombies will shove their way in!” 

“We can move a whole lot faster than these dead-heads. Once we get into the sewer, we’re home free, man.”

It was beyond ludicrous, beyond risky, and beyond dangerous.

“Look!” he said. “The wire meshing and junk are still there. That proves my story is real!”

Jim had a point. If we could fall into that tiny section, the herd couldn’t pounce on us, at least not as fast.

He peered at me, anxiously awaiting an answer.

“I don’t know,” I frantically said.

“The way I see it, you either take this chance with me or stay here in Freakville with Kirk.”

Trying to appease the crowd and make it all look real, we flipped over a few times, performing classic wrestling moves.

“Well? Are you in or out?” he asked, his face beet red and his breath coming in labored gasps. 

I pondered it for a moment but had trouble coming up with an answer.

“I take it you’re out,” he said. “If that’s the case, throw me off the stage, and I’ll go by myself. Just promise me you’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll be their hero, Zombie Slayer.”

“I’m not their hero!”

“You will be for a while, till somebody better comes along. They’ll keep making you fight, upping the ante every time.”

I thought about what he was saying, and while I hated to admit it, I knew Jim was right. “No, wait. You’re not leaving without me!”

In a flurry of tumbling and punching and slamming, we rolled right off the stage, into the horde of zombies. I couldn’t see the faces of the spectators from where we were, but I could only imagine what they were thinking. 

I hit the ground hard. Glancing up, I was greeted by dozens of milky-white eyes. They had sunken cheeks, tattered skin, and dirty clothes. Luckily, they were on the other side of the meshing. It looked flimsy and I knew it wouldn’t hold for very long. My ears were filled with the moans and snarls and growls that haunted my nightmares every night.

“Maybe I’m the crazy one,” I said to Jim.

“No comment,” he whispered, looking up at the horde.

I
t took a few seconds for the zombies to register that we were now at their level; they weren’t exactly geniuses. In a fury of moans and growls, they began stumbling closer to us. The metal meshing began to shake as they started to pound on it. As it started to come down, I gasped.

I scrambled to my feet and took a few steps back. A zombie from the left pounced, snapping its teeth very close to my neck. I pushed the thrashing zombie away with my forearm, trying to avoid being bitten. With another burst of energy, I shoved as hard as I could. I grabbed one of the bikes off the rack and held it in front of me like a shield. I ignored the terror flooding through my body and forced myself to keep fighting. More snapping jaws came at me, wiry fingers bursting through the spokes of the wheels. Biting my lip, I rammed the bike into every zombie that got within three feet. I smacked a half-dozen of the things upside their decrepit heads. 

Dozens of dead hands reached for me. Chills raced over my body as horror washed over me. In a panic, I grabbed more bicycles and began throwing them at the horde. The bikes, the wire mesh, and the fallen zombies piled up into a barrier, and the oncoming foes stumbled a bit. I knew it wouldn’t stave them off forever, but I hoped it would give us the few precious seconds we needed to get out of there alive.

“Stop throwing things! Do you want the others to see us?” Jim snapped.

“They’re gonna see us dead if you don’t give me a little help here!” I yelled as yet another zombie reached for me.

“Just hold ‘em off a little longer. I’m almost in.”

A few seconds later, Jim was gone. I didn’t hear any indication that he’d been shot or mauled to death, so that was a good sign. I also couldn’t put past him to nail me with a crowbar the second I squeezed through, so I picked up a two-by-two I spotted lying on the floor. There was a rusty nail sticking out of one end, so I figured it would be as good a weapon as any if Jim went turncoat on me.

I held the board tight in my hands and hurried over to where Jim disappeared. Moving the panel aside, I crawled through the small opening. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously looked around. It was dark in there, but streaks of daylight shone through the cracks. There were no zombies, and rather than ambushing me like I half-expected him to do, Jim was throwing things around, looking for our escape from that nightmare.
Please let there be a manhole
! I silently prayed, knowing we were both as good as dead if there wasn’t.

My nerves were rattled as zombies banged on the panels. I walked over to the barrier and tested it. It seemed sturdy enough to hold, at least for a little while. Even though they’d found a way through the flimsy fencing, they were not clever enough to loosen the panel and squeeze in as we had. Even still, I threw a few mattresses, a dresser, and a chest up against it.

“Better safe than sorry,” I said to Jim when he looked at me.

“I just wish those dang things would stop bangin’ around,” he said. “They’re gonna give us away!”

I knew he was right, and I quickly thought up a story in my head. “If we get caught, we’ll just tell Kirk we climbed in here to run away from the zombies when we accidentally rolled off the stage. Surely he can’t fault us for that.”

“The guy will put a bullet in our heads for breaking his precious rules. He’ll give me a whole new reason to be called Quick Death.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We gotta get outta here now! Where’s this alleged manhole anyway?” I asked, nervously glancing through the debris.

I’d been through so many battles, but never had I felt so tense. I wasn’t sure if I was more scared of the zombies or of Kirk, but all my muscles tensed into knots, and I could hardly breathe. Like a madman on a mission, I frantically threw boards, metal, and other rubble in every direction, looking for our portal to freedom from the crazy nuts above us and the zombies howling for our flesh. I knew the manhole had to be down there somewhere, and I was determined to find it.

The banging grew more intense, but we didn’t seem to be any closer to finding our escape through that pile of garbage.

“It’s not here!” I said, frustrated and terrified. “We need a Plan B...fast!”

Jim threw a few more long pieces of wood over to the left. “I know it’s here. He’da had no reason to lie to me. Keep looking!”

I desperately darted my eyes back and forth in the dark space, and a flash of red suddenly caught my eye. I walked over a heap of splintered lumber and spotted something made of fabric. “Hey! A backpack!” I yelled, picking it up. “Is this it, the one they left here?”

Jim’s jaw dropped. “I believe so.”

I opened it and started rummaging through it. There was a gun, a sheathed knife, ammo, and lots of other survival gear. With shaking hands, I picked up the gun and examined it. I loaded the magazine with ammo, then chambered a round.
Perfect
. I strapped the sheath around my leg. I felt so good to have real weapons, and they would give us a fighting chance. I stuffed a few magazines in my large coat pocket, then slung the backpack over my shoulders. I pointed my gun toward the zombies banging on the panel.

“Wait!” Jim said. He stumbled over a dirty crib mattress, then pushed it aside and rushed over me. “I think you’d best save the bullets for...
us
.”

His defeated words terrified me. “No!” I said. “We fight.”

“Man, can’t you see that we’re screwed? We’re gonna have to end this ourselves, unless you’d rather be eaten alive. Personally, I wanna go out on my own terms if I’m gonna die down here.”

I clenched my fists in anger. “I’m not giving up!”

“When they break through those panels, shoot me, Dean,” he said, with his eyes wide. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook me. “You hear me? Shoot me and then yourself. I’d do the shootin’ first, but I admit I ain’t got the balls to off myself. I don’t want those things eating me piece by piece, at least not while I can feel it. I know ya don’t owe me no favors, but I just can’t—”

“No! Keep looking!” I shouted. “The backpack was here, like you said it would be, so the manhole has to be here too. It’s buried somewhere in all this junk.”

“Yeah? Where?”

I shoved him hard. “You tell me! This was your plan.”

“Maybe it’s over there, where the backpack was.”

Time was running out, but we had to keep searching. I came across a bat that would be helpful in taking out a few unlucky zombies. I was happy to find it, but I sighed; it reminded me of Asia and everyone else I’d lost. 

Guttural moans echoed behind me as three zombies made their way through the loose panel, shoving their way in. I slipped my gun in my waistband and reached for the bat, since I knew we couldn’t risk firing off any noisy shots that Kirk and his men would hear. 

As the first zombie approached, I swung my arms back and whacked its head so hard that its neck broke, lobbing its decayed noggin unnaturally to the left like a lollipop on a wet stick. The thing fell backward with a howl.

The next one reached for me, clawing at my midsection with black, dead nails. I swung and took it out, then immediately swung again and hit the one behind it. Two more came out of nowhere, but I attacked furiously. With another whack, I shattered the first zombie’s jaw. Meanwhile, the second zombie, one with a swollen face, grabbed my coat. I pushed it away, but it refused to let go of my jacket. When it fell backward, I fell right on top of it. It tried to bite me, but I plunged the knife deep in its mouth, all the way to the back of its throat. I pulled out my weapon and shoved it roughly into the thing’s temple, and the monster went limp from the unexpected lobotomy. I scrambled up, pulled out my weapon, and wiped the black blood on the zombie’s shirt.

“Find it?” I asked, terror edging my voice.

“Not yet! Keep holding them off.”

“Easier said than done!” I yelled as what seemed like dozens more came at me.

A
snarling zombie with a deep cut running down its tattered face inched toward me, dragging its left foot. I slammed my bat into its mushy, decaying head. More zombies had already slipped in. Another one howled for my flesh but couldn’t get its foot over the mattress in its path. The junk and debris helped to slow them a bit, but some still managed to slip around it.

When a zombie with bushy red hair came at me and bit down on my arm, like some kind of rabid Ronald McDonald, I wasn’t lovin’ it at all. I screamed, and my heart thundered as I pushed it away with a hard shove. It came back with a vengeance, but I kept pushing, trying to keep it from sinking its yellow teeth into my face. I held it off with one hand and reached for my knife with the other. I stabbed at it harder than I’d ever stabbed anything before, and its legs collapsed beneath it as it fell to its final death.

I worried for a moment that the bite had torn through the leather of my coat and the flesh of my arm. The breath hitched in my throat, and my stomach lurched at the thought that I might have sustained a would-be fatal wound. I examined my jacket and saw the teeth marks, but there were not holes.

Before I even had a chance to sigh in relief, more snarling echoed in the air. I took a deep breath as rotting fingers wiggled through the same opening we’d come through. They were pushing their way in, and I didn’t know how we were going to get out. I’d escaped the bite, but that would do me little good if the horde continued to break in. I had no place to hide, no place to run. We were trapped in a junkyard, and I was sure I was about to be eaten alive. In that moment, it felt as if my life had come to a screeching and untimely halt.

It was almost inconceivable that I might be facing death at such a young age. I had just turned eighteen, was barely a legal adult, even though I felt I’d aged a decade in the last horrific year. A hurricane of dark emotions and painful memories flooded through my head. I was scared of the unknown, I feared pain, and my heart ached at the thought that if my family was still alive back in Ohio, they would grieve my loss. I thought about Nick, Val, my parents, Jackie, and everyone else I knew and loved, and I would carry some guilt to my grave for the deaths caused by my attempted rescue. 

I knew I was supposed to be brave, to fight, but I felt overwhelmed, bewildered, upset, and stunned. The fear was utterly immobilizing, but I couldn’t let it paralyze me. My mind was at war with the fact that I was going to die a horrible death. I refused to believe it, yet I knew there was no way out. The entire stage was surrounded by a hungry horde, and the flimsy panels wouldn’t hold for long as they relentlessly pushed, shoved, and tore, hoping to sink their teeth into our skin. Even if we did manage to get back out, we would only live long enough to catch angry bullets from Kirk and his goons.