Saving the Dead (21 page)

Dirt and plants splattered outward as he accidentally shot the ground near the dead creature.  Everyone froze and all eyes swung round from the discharged weapon to the zombie. Its head popped up at the sound of the explosion.  Dead eyes supported on a neck that couldn’t have sustained life stared at them with savage hunger.  It launched itself forward with the violent speed that only the recently-turned could muster, full-out sprinting towards the prone officer.

“Oh shit!  Oh shit! Oh shit!” screamed Officer Tanner as he pushed himself to his knees and brought his weapon to bear.

His pistol roared as it expelled its next bullet.

The round crashed into the rider’s stomach and exploded out its back.  The zombie’s steps momentarily faltered before it continued its unrelenting charge.

He shot again.  The next bullet slammed into its shoulder, decimating it and sending the pulseless figure wheeling around mid-stride.  It was almost on Tanner.

With another shot, the bullet flew wild, completely missing the zombie at point-blank range.

“Look out!” shouted Ramirez.

Earl added his own voice. “Move!”

An instant later, his pistol went flying back into the underbrush, as the zombie crashed into Tanner, sending the two of them flailing backwards.  The dead thing’s bloody fingers dug into the officer’s clothes as it tried to drag its prey closer.  Pinned beneath its weight, Tanner was locked in a desperate push-pull match trying not to be bitten by the ravenous creature.

“Hold on!” shouted Earl.  Fueled by adrenaline, the firefighter reached down and with one hand grabbed the zombie by the collar of its leather jacket.  In one swift move, he yanked it off the officer and hurled it onto the ground.

It tried to rise back up but was slammed back down as the weight of the firefighter’s boot stomped on its sternum with a crunch.  Earl ignored the clawing fingers that raked ineffectually against the trousers of his turnout gear.  His axe whistled through the air as it came down with a squelching thunk.

The outstretched arms below him fell limply to the ground as the zombie’s unnatural life left it.

Officer Tanner sat up. “Damn!  That thing almost had me!”

“Just about.”  Earl reached out and Tanner took his offered hand and let himself be hauled up.  Earl looked down at it. “I wouldn’t worry too much.  I’ve found myself ass up before a zombie, too.  I was lucky then.  Looks like you were lucky now.  Just try not to make it a habit.”

“I don’t intend to,” Officer Tanner said.  He shined his flashlight around him. “Did you guys see where my gun went?  I dropped it when that damn thing tackled me.”

Ramirez shined his light along the ground and caught a glimpse. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks,” said Tanner.

Suddenly his eyes bulged, “Holy shit!”

Their heads swiveled in the direction of his reaction.  The other rider rose to her feet.  Through her open jacket, they could see the partially-devoured flesh beneath.  Her right breast hung from a piece of flesh and her remaining intestines spilled out to the ground beneath her.  The jagged end of her radial bone protruded out from where her left hand and wrist once were.  Through the cracked visor of her motorcycle helmet, she stared at them with hungry eyes.

She burst forward at a dead sprint.  She staggered over the coils of intestines that spiraled and slithered on the ground in tendrils around her.  Jagged roots and limbs scraped and ripped her intestines as they snagged them in her wake.

Officer Tanner grabbed his baton as Earl yanked his axe free of the first zombie’s skull.

“I got it!” Earl shouted.

He stepped forward and brought his axe around with a homerun-style swing.  Just before his axe could connect with the visor, the zombie stumbled over a coil of intestine.  The axe glanced off the top of the predator’s head. “Shit!” snarled Earl.

The zombie was knocked off, course but its head tracked its prey as it reached out for Earl.  Suddenly there was a loud rip as its bone shard of its broken arm penetrated his turnout coat.

“No!” howled Earl.

He back-fisted the zombie across its face shield causing its head to snap back.  Earl glanced down at the deep rip across his coat and his rage erupted across his face.  “I’m going to fucking kill you!” he snarled.

The zombie recovered and started towards him, oblivious of anything other than its own hunger and his proximity.  Earl’s axe came overhead and slammed down atop the helmet driving the zombie to its knees.  It tried to claw at him.

“Dammit!” Earl held the creature at arm’s length with the handle of his weapon. “My axe is stuck!”

With an explosion behind him, the side of the helmet imploded as the zombie’s head jerked to the side.

Earl leapt back releasing the axe. “What the fuck!”

The two men looked over to see Ramirez holding the lost pistol in both hands.  He held it trained on the zombie for a few more moments to ensure it was indeed down for good.

Officer Tanner broke the silence first. “Holy shit!  That was one hell of a shot!  Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

Ramirez looked from Tanner to the pistol.  A cringe rippled through him.  He clicked the safety on and handed it back to the officer. “Here.  I’ve had more than my fill holding one of these things.”

“Okay.” Officer Tanner took it unsure what else to say.

“I don’t think there are any more down here, but watch our perimeter, just the same please,” Ramirez said as he approached the firefighter.  “Earl, take off your coat.”

The senior firefighter visibly paled in the light of Ramirez’s flashlight.  He nodded and complied.  He dropped his coat and shirt to the ground.  Ramirez quietly began to examine him for wounds.

After a minutes, Earl said, “All right, give it to me straight.  How bad did that fucking thing get me?”

Ramirez was quiet for a moment longer before he said, “Earl, I think when you’re done with this call, the first thing you should do is go buy yourself a lottery ticket.”

Earl’s eyes bulged. “You mean?”

Ramirez nodded with a smile. “You don’t have so much as a scratch on you.”

Earl’s shoulders sagged as he exhaled slowly.  He composed himself and finished by crossing himself and kissing the crucifix on his necklace.  “Let’s get the hell out of here.  I’d like to go back to the station and change my shorts.”

“Leo, you scared the shit out of me!  I heard all those gunshots and you didn’t answer you’re radio!  What the fuck man!”

Drifts took his partner’s hand and helped him over the guard rail.

Ramirez looked down at his radio.  “I guess we were in a dead zone down there.”

Below him on the embankment Earl said, “Yeah no shit.”

Ramirez and Drifts helped Smitty get Earl and Officer Tanner over the guard rail as well.

“Earl, what the hell happened to your shirt and coat?” Smitty asked.

“A zombie damn near sliced me open with a bone sticking out of its arm!”

“Shit! Is that true?”  Smitty took an involuntary step back.

“Yes, but we took that fucker out!”  He slapped Ramirez on the shoulder. “And Leo here checked me out and gave me a clean bill of health.”

“You guys tussled with a zombie down there?” Drifts demanded.

“No, we encountered two: the motorcyclist and a girl who was riding bitch,” said Earl.

“No shit!” exclaimed Drifts.

“Yep,” said Earl.  He then gave a quick recap of what happened out of sight at the bottom of the ravine.  He omitted a few details to give Tanner the credit for all the gunshots and the final kill.  Ramirez didn’t mind.  Police officials were particular about who fired their officer’s guns.  Although Earl had no trouble taking credit for the first kill himself. 

“I thought I fucking heard gunshots down there!”

“How are things up here?”  Drifts shook his head and silently looked at their rig.  Taking his meaning, Ramirez looked at Earl and Officer Tanner. “Gentlemen, thank you for all your help down there.”

“Thank you!” said Officer Tanner.

Earl took his hand. “Anytime, Leo. You saved my bacon down there that’s for sure.”

Ramirez nodded and took his leave.  Drifts looked at Ramirez. “What was that all about?”

Ramirez shrugged. “You know how cops and firefighters are.  They’re excitable and tend to blow things out of proportion.”

The EMT rolled his eyes. “Ain’t that the fucking truth.”

“So what’s up?”

“It’s the kid.  I don’t know, Leo.  I’m kind of worried about him.

Ramirez sobered. “What happened?”

“The firefighters brought us the van’s driver not long after you left.  Dude, he was fucked up.  The kid did everything he could like a ten-year pro.  But then the van’s passenger went ape-shit!  Sutter, a few firefighters, and I had to focus on her, leaving the kid more or less alone.”

“We were so busy fighting her that none of us noticed the driver had passed away.”

“Please don’t tell me that Justin had gotten bitten!” Ramirez exclaimed.

“What!  No!  Hell no!  The guy died and Justin knew what to do right off the bat.  He grabbed the hot-drill and knelt over him and well, that’s it.”

Ramirez looked at his partner. “He used the drill?”

Drifts shook his head. “No, that’s literally all he did.  He froze.  He couldn’t do it.  He had every reason to, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull the fucking trigger.”

“What happened then?”

“Sutton saw what was going on and stepped in for him, and he did the fucking deed himself.  Then the third crew arrived and took that lady out of here.  Not that I envy them.  That chick went bat-shit crazy.”

Drifts looked at the back of the ambulance, then at his partner. “Listen, Leo, I really like this kid.  He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and a lot of heart, and he’s got ball of brass, but I wonder if this is the right gig for him.  It’s just my opinion, but I don’t think we’ll be doing him any favors by letting him move on.”

“You might be right, Sam.  But I’m going to hold off on making that decision just yet.”

Drifts nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll go check up on him.”

Drifts took the trauma bag from him. “I’ll get the truck ready to go.”

Ramirez rounded the corner and saw Justin sitting on Triple-Three’s back bumper staring off into space.  Before he could approach the young man, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned to see Sutter staring at him with haggard eyes.

“John.  Sam, told me what happened.  Thanks for helping my student.”

Sutter nodded. “Yeah, about that.  Look Leo, I did the deed for Mr. Colbert, but then I looked into the passenger’s eyes and told her I was sorry.” He shook his head.  “Damn!  The look on her face!  It spoke volumes.  It was like I ripped her heart out.”  He sighed and wrung his hands.  “Listen, I was going to ask you for a favor.  I’m a little raw right now.  It’s been a hell of a night and I’ve never been good at taking out kids after they’ve turned.   Could you . . .” He waved back to the van.

“Don’t worry about John.  I’ll take care of it.”  He took the hot-drill from his supervisor’s hand and glanced back at Justin for a moment.  His student hadn’t moved.  It would have to wait.  He headed towards the smashed-up van. 

The firefighters busy sweeping up debris averted their eyes.  Ramirez wasn’t surprised.  No one liked putting down kids, even if they were zombies.  It just went against the human nature to harm little ones especially if you were a rescuer.  No one offered to help, nor did Ramirez expect it.

He passed the back of the van.  He noticed an odd bumper sticker with puzzle pieces on the back.  He dismissed it as he stepped up to the passenger side of the van.  The entire side wall of the van was cut away and placed leaning against the nearby guard rail.  Ramirez carefully treaded over the shattered glass and around a stray bicycle helmet.

Within the shadows of the van, the small figure in the carseat raised its arms to reach for him as it made grinding noises with its teeth. Ramirez suppressed a cringe.  He had used the hot-drill on children quite a few times, but it was never easy.  He found it was always better to do the deed quickly and to look away once his drill found purchase.  He grabbed the little zombie’s hands and pulled them taut so it couldn’t drag him in for a bite.  As he had done every time before he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”  He held up the hot-drill and the specialized cautery drill bit glowed orange.  The zombie cooed.

Ramirez froze.

It cooed?  He moved the drill back and forth and the little figure’s head moved as it tracked the light.  Zombies never looked at anything else once they sighted prey.  It was what made them so implacable.  You could not distract the dead. 

In that moment, he realized that the little hands in his grip were warm.  The night air should have drained away all his ambient heat, unless . . .

He released the hand and looked and stepped back.  The back of his heel struck the helmet on the ground.  He pulled free his flashlight and shined a light on it for better inspection.  It was child-sized special needs helmet.