Phoenix (26 page)

The dead followed.

"This way!" Mort stood on the far side of the
roof, pointing to the ground.

Lucky for them, the roof they stood on sloped
down from the main part of the house, which left a shorter distance
to the ground. It was still ten feet down, though. Brad remembered
Izzy limping in his dream.

He stopped her as they gathered along the
edge. "Hey, be careful okay?" Brad glanced over and saw Mort
instructing everyone to sit down and slide off instead of just
jumping. He looked back to her. "Try to, I don’t know, relax your
legs or something. Don’t sprain your ankle or break your leg."

"Okay?"

Brad nodded and moved her in front of him.
One by one, his friends sat down and slid off the roof. He glanced
back over his shoulder and saw the corpses that had followed them
out eating the group of strangers that had been with them. Guilt
washed over him when he realized he was thankful for the
distraction.

"Brad," Mort whispered.

It was his turn. Izzy sat down, looked up at
the two men, and dropped. She cried out when she hit the ground.
Adams and Laura grabbed her arms and lifted her up. Izzy couldn’t
put weight on her left leg.

"Goddammit." Brad pulled Mort to the edge.
"You go next. Hurry." He turned to keep an eye on the dead while
his older friend slid out of sight.

"Okay, come on!" a voice yelled from the
ground.

Brad leaned over and saw them gathered below,
Mort motioning for Brad to hurry. He glanced behind him once more,
sat down, and dropped. His feet hit first and his knees buckled.
His chin came down hard on one of them and his teeth clacked. He
bit his tongue. Mort immediately had hold of his upper arm and was
tugging. Brad struggled to his feet and together the group ran
along the outer edge of the yard. Izzy could barely walk. Laura and
Adams were practically carrying her. She’d twisted or broken
something when she landed.

Adams led the group. Laura snapped off
questions for him, and his answers took them through the safest
route.

"Left here?"

"No!"

The group turned right and hurried around a
parked car.

"Right?"

"No!"

The group turned left and passed three more
vehicles.

Brad brought up the rear and kept glancing
behind him. Screams and a few gunshots came from every direction.
People ran through their line, but they pushed on. They were almost
to the base of the little hill, below where their cars were
parked.

"Left or right?"

"Yes or no, Laura!"

"Shit, sorry! Lef–" Laura screamed and went
to the ground. Something was underneath the car next to them and
had a hold of her leg.

Adams fell backwards with Izzy. He wrapped
her up, kicked with his legs, and scrambled away from the scuffle.
Izzy fought to get free, to help Laura, but he held her back.

"Laura!" Mort yelled. He dropped to his knees
and grabbed the woman’s hands. "Brad, help me!"

Brad dropped and grabbed Laura’s upper arms.
Together he and Mort pulled and pulled, but whatever had a hold of
her was stronger than the two of them.

There’s
more
than
one
under
there
, Brad thought.

Laura started screaming.

Izzy cried and tried to get to the dying
woman, but Adams wouldn’t let her go. A moment later, his nose was
bleeding and he was dragging Izzy toward the base of the hill.

Laura’s body jerked back and forth. Brad and
Mort kept pulling.

Finally, between screams, she gasped, "Run!"
Her arms slipped from their hands and she disappeared underneath
the car.

With the weight suddenly gone, Mort and Brad
fell backwards and slammed into another vehicle parked behind them.
They could hear grunts and tearing coming from where Laura had
been. They scrambled to their feet and ran.

"Please tell me you have the car keys in your
pocket!" Mort shouted over his shoulder as they rounded the corner
of a minivan.

Brad checked. "Got them!"

Adams hit the base of the hill and started
dragging Izzy up it. Mort followed but Brad could see the older man
was slowing down. He glanced back one more time to see if they had
any pursuers and saw it. A man, on the ground, legs broken, with a
dog in his lap.

Should
I
hel
—

"Nope," he said and ran up the bank, helping
Mort along a little faster.

The other two were standing by the rear
fender of Brad’s car. The man who had welcomed them into his home
stood in front of them, beside the driver’s door, with his gun
raised. He had a long, bloody gash on his left forearm.

"Keys! Now!" His eyes darted around and the
gun barrel shook.

Brad held his hands up and eased his way
around Adams. "Hey, man, let’s take it easy, okay?"

"Gimme the keys!"

"Okay, okay!" Brad glanced over his shoulder.
Mort was inching up behind the other two. "They’re in my front
pocket."

"Don’t," Adams whispered.

Brad kept his eyes on the man in front of
him.

He waved the barrel. "Get them! Give them to
me!"

"Okay, man. Just take it easy." Brad didn’t
see a way out of this. Izzy was hurt, Laura’s car keys were still
in her pocket, and they had a ton of hungry zombies down the hill
behind them. They needed to get out of there, not stand and argue
with an armed man who was freaking out. "I’m gonna pull them out of
my pocket nice and slow, just stay calm." Brad lowered his right
hand and fished the keys from his pocket.

The man darted forward and, before he could
snatch them, Brad rammed his fist into the guy’s nose. It must have
shocked him, because instead of raising his gun, he grabbed his
nose and stared at Brad.

So Brad hit him again.

The gun fell from the man’s hands, and Adams
swooped in to pick it up. He aimed it at the man, but Brad had him
on the ground and was thumping the daylights out of him.

Mort pulled the gun from Adams and yelled,
"Stop him!"

Adams dove headfirst and knocked Brad off the
guy. Their host was bleeding from his nose and mouth.

Brad struggled with Adams. "Get off!" He
kicked and Adams fell to the side, then he got to his feet and
jerked Adams up.

"Get in the goddamn car!" Brad yanked the
back door open and Mort helped Izzy into the backseat. Adams
stumbled around to the passenger side and got in. Brad kicked the
stranger in the side one more time, then fell into his seat and
slammed the door.

The car fired up.

"Don’t get in a hurry," Mort warned. "Just
turn us around and head back toward the road."

Brad jerked the car into reverse and hit the
gas. The car lurched up and down.

"Brad!" Mort braced himself between the front
seats. "I said be careful!"

Brad hit the brakes and paused to see what
he’d run over. Their host was crumpled up and his middle was soaked
with red.

"Oh, Jesus," Mort whispered and slumped back
in his seat.

Adams’ nostrils flared. "Go. That way." He
pointed down the hill.

Brad turned around and had to swerve around
wrecked or stalled cars, running over more than one corpse, but he
got them onto the road and headed back down the hill.

"Those damn things followed us," Adams
said.

Both of Brad’s hands were white-knuckling the
steering wheel. "What do you mean, followed us?"

"You think it’s a coincidence that each time
we’ve stopped, we’ve been swarmed?"

Brad couldn’t argue.

"Until we can prove otherwise," Mort spoke up
from the back seat, "then we have to keep moving."

"Don’t need to prove otherwise." Adams wiped
at his face. "That was one of the questions I was asking myself
when Laura was getting pulled under that car."

"Don’t you
dare
puke," Brad snapped.
He fought the wheel. The car was being jostled one way, then the
other, jerking everyone around because of the potholes. "Winter’s
almost here. We lost half of our supplies when…" Brad paused,
thinking of Laura and her car. "When we tried sleeping in the cars,
we woke up swarmed. And if Adams is right, then every time we stop,
we’re going to get swarmed. We can’t keep moving nonstop. You know
we can’t."

Mort felt over Izzy’s ankle. He squeezed it
and she squealed.
Yep
,
sprained
. "You twisted it,"
Mort said to her. "Here, keep it elevated." He pulled her leg
around until she sat across the seat and let it rest on his lap. To
Brad, he said, "Then what do you suggest?"

"Short stops?" Brad glanced at Adams, who
nodded. "Take turns driving if we can’t stay wherever we’ve stopped
long enough to rest. Whoever isn’t driving can sleep. Keep doing
that until we get to where we’re going."

Adams propped his elbow against the door and
held his forehead. "And if they keep coming? Show up a day or so
after we
get
to where we’re going?"

Brad just shook his head.

"Guess we’ll figure that out when we get
there," Mort said.

"Yeah." Brad let his head fall back. He took
a deep breath and tried to forget the look on Laura’s face when she
realized she was being eaten alive.

Driving from the northernmost part of the
state to the southeastern edge proved to be no easy task.
Pre-zombie it would have taken hours. Post-zombie, it was taking
weeks. Each time they stopped, it never took long for every zombie
in the area to investigate. They were living off of snacks and pop
liberated from every gas station and rest area vending machine
along the way. They didn’t dare loot the residential areas or
venture into towns or cities to scavenge. Instead they hit the
places along whichever road they happened to be on at the time.

Mort had been right when he warned Brad about
siphoning fuel. After running out of gas more than once, they
figured out they didn’t necessarily have to siphon. Just cut a line
or poke a hole in the tank with a screwdriver and a hammer and
catch what came out. They kept two five-gallon containers strapped
to the luggage rack on the roof and made sure those stayed full,
even if it meant stopping to refill them even when they really
didn’t need to.

Izzy cried all the time now, mostly to
herself. Sometimes the only way to know she was still going at it
was to look at her shoulders and see them shaking.

Mort kept a yellow highlighter with the map
and marked each road they took. By the time Thanksgiving rolled
around, it looked like an Etch-A-Sketch. They were constantly
backtracking and rerouting, sometimes going over ground they’d
already traveled. Those were the worst times, driving past places
they’d already picked clean of supplies. But Mort kept them moving
southeast. It had turned into some kind of Holy Quest. Just get to
the place they’d marked on the map in the beginning and everything
would be okay.

It’d been so long, Brad couldn’t remember
what it was like to shower or sleep in a real bed. Somewhere along
the way, he’d fallen into the role of questioner, working with
Adams so the viewer could steer them toward supplies and places
they could at least get out and stretch their legs a bit.

One night, while driving south on some county
road, they were forced to the side by a convoy of army
vehicles.

"Why are they on this road?" Mort asked
himself. He was taking his turn behind the wheel while the others
were supposed to be sleeping.

"I don’t know, but they’re hauling ass." Brad
shoved Adams off his shoulder and wiped at the drool on his
shirtsleeve. He leaned forward between the seats and watched
vehicle after vehicle speed by.

Mort glanced over his shoulder. "You’re
supposed to be asleep." He turned back and stared at the
never-ending line, then looked up at the rearview and saw there
were still more coming. "That’s a lot of troops."

"Yeah it is. Where do you think they’re
going?"

Mort took a deep breath and shrugged. "On
this road? Hard to say. Lots of shortcuts someone could take from
here to a number of towns around."

Izzy and Adams were beginning to stir because
of all the noise from the convoy.

"Maybe we should wake him up," Brad indicated
Adams, "see if he can get a read on what’s going on."

"No." Mort shook his head. "Let him rest.
Whatever is happening," he jerked his chin toward the army
vehicles, "it’s not something we want to get involved in."

"Yeah, but…might be smart to find out what’s
going on."

"Brad." Mort shifted the car into park and
twisted in his seat until he was looking directly at the younger
man. "Did you happen to notice exactly what’s been passing us?"

Brad glanced through the windshield again.
The vehicles were large and loud, but he didn’t know the names of
the things. Mixed in were big covered trucks and Humvees. There was
another kind, too, that he’d seen in movies but had no idea
whatsoever what they might be called. He noticed most had pretty
intimidating guns on the roofs. Some were tan in color, some were
green. Some had soldiers standing up through what must have been
access doors in the roofs. Brad had never served and had never
known anyone who’d served. The extent of his military knowledge
came from movies and television shows, and he knew well enough not
to trust everything he saw on TV.

"What about them?" he asked.

Mort smiled. "The
smart
thing to do
would be to get off this road. You don’t take that kind of man- and
fire-power on a joy ride." He turned around and looked back at the
road. "They’re going to battle, and we sure as hell don’t want to
get caught in the middle of it."

"Okay." Brad leaned back and continued to
watch the loud green and tan vehicles roar down the road.

Izzy jerked and sat up. "What the—"