Particle Z (Book 1) (18 page)
A bell rang deep in Mike’s subconscious and he recalled this church now. The Brattleboro Church was vocal about all the standard issues Southern Baptist churches were known for: same sex marriage, the wickedness of women, and every other perceived sin Man could commit. They even went as far as protesting a wide range of events from military funerals to mall openings to draw attention to their cause. Most found them to be revolting hatemongers.
Mike was glad they weren’t harassing anyone now; it was a shame it took an apocalypse to silence them. They hurried back inside the dealership, locking the door behind them, and went in search of Julian and Davis, whom they found on the sales floor staring at a safe.
“What’s the issue?” Mike asked, seeing consternation on both men’s faces.
Julian said, “We got lucky and found the keys to the black F150 sitting on the counter, but the rest of the keys are in that box, and without the combo I don’t think we’ll be getting the keys anytime soon.”
“No worries,” Mike said. “I think we have this one covered,” and tossed the key to the dump truck onto the counter.
“What are those to?”
“F650 dump truck, fueled and ready to roll, sitting right out back.”
Davis understood the utility of a vehicle like that and his eyes lit up. “Nice find, gentlemen!”
Mike laughed. “I knew you would like it.”
Julian cleared his throat and was about to say something when Aggeles ran up from out front. “We have a group of Changed headed for the front of the dealership. Need to get moving or start shooting.” That news refocused them on the immediate danger and the problem with staying in one place for too long.
Julian tossed the key to the dump truck back to Mike and grabbed the F150 key. He then turned back to Aggeles and said, “Have them drive around back and meet us at the dump truck.” To Davis, he said, “Go grab the other truck and bring it around back,” and tossed the F150 keys to him. “I want everyone sorted and ready to roll in less than five minutes.”
There was no need for additional discussion as everyone took off to carry out their mission, with Aggeles hightailing it to Marlee and the others waiting out front. Within minutes, Mike and Eric were sitting in the cab of the dump truck, with Aggeles and Davis taking positions in the dump body, making sure to keep a watchful eye while they waited for the others to transfer over to the new F150 and join them. Soon enough the black pick-up came tearing around back. Mike looked into the smaller truck and could see everyone was accounted for and ready to roll. Garcia once again took the wheel, with Marlee sitting shotgun.
“Let’s get moving, this town gives me the creeps,” Mike said as he shifted the truck into gear and pulled out, fully intent on leaving this small town behind forever.
As they came around the back corner of the dealership what greeted them was nothing short of staggering. Mike had no idea where so many of the Changed had been gathered, but it looked like a town’s worth of shambling humanity. Mike stared, mouth agape, at what must have been hundreds, maybe thousands of Zs headed directly for them. He stomped on the brakes, not thinking of the truck following behind. Luck was on his side as Garcia was paying attention and slid to a stop before slamming into the back of the larger vehicle.
“Holy fuck! Where did they come from?”
Eric, equally horrified, could only mumble something that sounded like he had a mouthful of oatmeal. Head swiveling around like a madman, Mike saw few options. The street they came in on was clogged with the Changed, and directly across the street was an old cemetery. No way could he thread the truck through that. Mike knew the headstones would tear even the truck they were driving to pieces. They were forced to backtrack and find another way out behind the dealership.
Mike slipped the truck into reverse and waited a few seconds for Garcia to get the hint. Garcia was sharp; he was already backing into the small yard behind the dealership. Mike knew maneuvering the larger truck would be a chore, but they’d be overrun in minutes otherwise so he had no choice but to follow Garcia’s lead. The stench of rotting flesh combined with the growls and moans were beginning to really mess with his mind. Mike took a few deep breaths and relaxed himself as much as one could under the circumstances and then started the truck back the way Garcia had gone.
“Mike! Stop the truck,” Julian yelled down at him from his perch atop the dump body. “We need to get the others up here in case we’re overrun; the Zs will get into that F150 in no time flat.” Julian’s matter-of-fact statement reminded Mike that Marlee was in the other truck and he had no way to protect her.
Mike stopped the truck while Julian transferred everyone from the F150 over to the big Ford. Watching the crowd of Changed coming their way, he was once again struck by how fast the world had transformed. He knew things would deteriorate quickly, but this was just insanity.
The leading Z was almost upon them. If they didn’t get moving immediately Mike was sure everything they had accomplished over the past few days would’ve been for nothing. Maybe Julian was right after all; searching for Garcia’s family would cost them all their lives.
Mike worriedly glanced back at the closest Z again, abstractly realizing that it was a she and that she was wearing the remains of a wedding dress. Her top was ripped open, exposing an ample set of breasts that appeared to have been gnawed on. Her once blonde hair was caked and dirty from the elements and failed to conceal the numerous open oozing wounds on her face, neck, and arms. This woman’s final moments must have been terrifying and agonizingly painful. Striding close to her side was a girl of about twelve or so, with a similar dress but in a different color. Her face bore some similarities to the dead bride. Mike assumed it was a mother and daughter together even in their undead afterlife. Mike found this strangely touching, comforted to know they were still together even as twisted as that seemed.
The mother’s face evaporated into a red mist as someone put a round into her skull, and a second later the little girl’s face also evaporated into a bloody mush, destroyed by the impact of an assault rifle’s round fired from the back of the truck. They ended up on the ground intertwined with each other, allowed the eternal rest they each deserved. The image was so powerful Mike found himself choking up.
“See I told you, drive a Ford and you turn into a pussy,” Eric needled Mike, noticing the effect the death of the mother-daughter pair had on his friend.
“I got dust in my eye, asshole,” Mike shot back a little too quickly. Eric decided to drop it even if he did find Mike’s sentiment somewhat touching yet amusing at the same time. He’d seen this guy mow down terrorists in Iraq and then pick up a conversation again as if they were watching Monday Night Football. Funny what touched people’s hearts.
The thought of never watching another Monday Night Football game had Eric choked up now, but he brushed it off before Mike noticed and gave him a dose of his own medicine. There came a tap on the roof of the cab. That was the signal; everyone was safely in the truck and just in time, too, as the crowd was now swarming around them. The sides of the truck were high, affording those sheltering out back some semblance of security for now.
Mike looked off to the right and spotted a building next door. It was a local grocery; Evan’s Mart, according to the sign. Evening was beginning its nightly creep, ushering in an end to another day. The sign above the entrance of the grocery was still burning from the last time it was powered on, perhaps days before. Mike noticed the E was blinking and knew it would soon go dark for good. The blinking E triggered a singular thought, ESCAPE, in Mike’s mind. Sliding the truck into gear and cranking the wheel to the right, he decided to head parallel to the crowd of Changed and head towards Evan’s Mart. If he could get back to the street, they would run less of a risk of getting stuck. Stopping now would be the kiss of death.
The crowd was growing thick around the truck, leaving Mike concerned it would not have the power to plow through the Changed if more piled on. Locked in 4-Low and in first gear, Mike started the slow grind of pushing through the amassing crowd. Slowly the truck started to move forward toward the gully between the dealership and Evan’s Mart. If he could get the truck moving fast enough, he’d be able to leverage the weight of the vehicle to break free and get as far away as possible. The Changed were focused on the front of the cab where they could see Mike and Eric. The rest of the group, wisely, was keeping low and out of sight in the back so as not to attract any unwanted attention.
Smart move
, Mike thought.
The torque and bulk of the truck was slowly overcoming the weight of the Changed encircling them. Their growls and screams were unsettling to say the least. Combined with those red, hate-filled eyes, Mike knew with certainty he would never grow comfortable looking at them, ever. Not without a sliver of fear running up his spine anyhow.
The truck lurched forward suddenly, broke free from the clutches of the crowd, danced down one side of a gully then back up the other into a small parking lot. Mike was bounced around like a rag doll but they were now free from the swarm of Changed. Before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, panicked screams started from the back of the truck, human screams. Looking into the rearview mirror, Mike found himself staring at something that seemed somehow out of place. It was in that instant that he came to the horrified realization he must have hit the lever which activated the hydraulic dump. His friends were now in danger of being unceremoniously spilled from the back of the truck into the waiting hands of the Changed.
Frantically looking for the switch to reverse the action, Mike almost screamed to Eric, “The truck is dumping them! HELP ME FIND THE FUCKING SWITCH.”
“I HAVE IT!” Eric exclaimed and flipped the toggle back in the opposite direction.
Mike, heart in his throat, realized their reaction had been too slow; Julian and Garcia had been ejected. Both were now feverishly climbing back into the truck before they were grabbed by Zs mere inches off their heels. Mike was unable to tell if any of the others were on the ground with them. He hoped they had managed to hold on. He prayed fervently no one else was facing the same predicament. Slowing the truck slightly so Julian and Garcia were able to climb back in proved fatal for Garcia.
Julian jumped onto the running board on the driver’s side and grasped for the mirror frame, clinging precariously on for dear life, but Garcia wasn’t so lucky. As the truck slowed slightly, Garcia, who was moving faster than Julian, overcompensated and missed the mirror, knocking himself off balance. He teetered and fell. Within seconds, an oversized Z fell on him as he was gathering his feet under him for another go at the truck. Miraculously he somehow managed to get to his feet with the Z clinging to his back.
Mike tore his eyes away from Garcia’s desperate plight to slow the truck further, but Eric put his hand on Mike’s shoulder and said, “It’s too late for him now, he’s lost to us.”
Mike looked back and knew instantly Eric was right. Garcia had made it back to the side of the truck and was grabbing for the mirror all while the oversized Z ravaged his neck and back, pulling out muscle and flesh from Garcia’s body with each frenzied movement. Mike didn’t know how the man was still upright. Then the Z got three fingers inside Garcia’s mouth and ripped his head to the left. The tender flesh on Garcia’s cheek ripped open, exposing his jaw and teeth all the way back to the molars and giving him a fleshy, skeletal grin Mike and Eric would not soon forget. This tripped Garcia up for the last time and he fell to the ground still reaching for the truck as the other Zs, smelling fresh blood, swarmed over him.
Mike kept hearing an insistent knocking sound and now feared the truck had blown the motor from the abuse it took plowing through the weight of the Changed. Then he realized it was Julian rapping on his window like a lunatic.
Rolling down the window, Mike said in anguish, “They got him, it was my fault. I must have hit the switch dumping the bed when we went through the gully.”
“We lost a good man, but it could have been much worse. Keep going. You can stop down the road after we have some distance on the Changed to mourn Garcia. Some of these freaks move remarkably fast, Mike, so step on it.”
Mike didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling out onto Lewisburg’s main drag, he mashed the pedal down and raced out of town as fast as the truck would take them. Julian had told him to stick to Route 219 headed south until he came across Route 460 East. Unless they ran into another herd of Changed, they would stick to this route until they came across Interstate 77 South. Garcia’s family had a small home not far off the interstate.
Night was fully upon them now and he had to slow to stay within the headlights’ range or he ran the risk of running into the next situation without any time to react. They did make one brief stop and that was to allow Julian time to rejoin the group in the back of the truck and make sure no one was seriously injured during their escape. Other than broken hearts due to Garcia’s loss, everyone had managed to come out unscathed.
It wasn’t long before they came across Route 460 and Mike knew immediately many of the locals fleeing to a safer location had traversed the same route they were traveling. This did not bode well for finding Interstate 77 in a passable condition. Cars were sitting abandoned along the road everywhere, and quite a few of the Changed were roaming in between the empty vehicles.
Mike’s attention was drawn to the roadway itself; someone with some serious equipment had passed through the area. Cut straight down the center of the road was a new lane wide enough for the F650 to pass through with room to spare.
Eric pointed to a few cars sitting near the truck. Many of the vehicles were marked with a red “X” spray-painted on a window or door. Mike assumed the same group that had ransacked the homes back in Lewisburg must have passed through the area. He was also convinced they had marked the cars they searched for supplies, not for survivors.
Picking up the pace again, they headed down the cleared roadway. One of the cars they passed was marked up with a message of sorts. “
PREPARE TO BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR SINS AS HE WILL WALK AMONGST US ONCE AGAIN - THE RAPTURE HAS COME.”
Mike thought the message seemed consistent with the one he’d seen on the Z boy back at the dealership; maybe the same group going to that faith-based event in Charlotte. Mike knew Julian was convinced this was a preordained apocalyptic event so there would be no shortage of crazies who finally had the apocalypse they had so desperately yearned for. The scary part was perhaps they were right after all. Mike looked up sharply when they heard a rapping on the roof of the truck then relaxed, smiling at his obvious jumpiness.
“See what Julian wants,” Mike told Eric.
Eric rolled his window down and stuck his head out; after a few brief words with someone, he rolled the window back up.
“Julian said you need to turn around and head back up Route 219 a mile or so. He spotted a small shopping plaza off the road a ways and wants to stop for the night and see what we can find in the morning.”
Mike turned the truck around, adding only a few new dings in the process, and headed for the plaza. It wasn’t long before they were driving down a lushly landscaped road toward a plaza he had no idea how Julian could have possibly spotted at night.
The road opened up before them revealing a large parking lot with the all-too-familiar Walmart sign headlining the building just in front of them. There were twenty cars or so strewn about the front of the building. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mike didn’t see any red eyes peering back at the truck’s headlights. Maybe they were still inside. He hoped this Walmart hadn’t been ransacked with it being so far off the road.
He decided to park a ways off the main entrance in a nice open space so nothing living or dead would be able to sneak up on them. The overhead lighting for the parking lot was dark, and it looked like the store was dark as well. Mike could not remember how far out they had been from Lewisburg when he stopped seeing signs of power.