The Dead Road: The Complete Collection (8 page)

Eli's eyes went wide. "HOLY SHIT!"

I looked back down at the store.  A dozen of those things were pushing their way outside, and the tide didn't seem to be slowing.  It was like watching a swarm of hornets come out of a nest in slow motion, with the dark shapes pouring out in an ever-widening mob of shuffling corpses.  I looked back down the scope.  Twenty.  Thirty.  They just kept coming.  The store must have been full of the shambling monsters, waiting in the darkness, drawn to the smell of spoiling meat sitting in refrigerator cases for a week, their number growing as each unsuspecting potential looter walked into the darkness to get immediately grabbed by the sea of grasping hands.

Roger put the Jeep in reverse.   "Get in, you asshole!" he shouted, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me towards the back seat.  I clambered in as best I could, falling across Amy's lap.  As soon as my feet left the pavement Roger gunned it, spinning the wheel, backing up in a tight U before putting it back into first and speeding up the hill.  I got my head up over the back set in time to see the mob of them in the parking lot, coming up the hill with their hands outstretched in a loose cluster, their mouths hanging open, their eyes milky and unfocused.  Somehow seeing them in broad daylight was worse than being chased down the mountain road at night.  The midday sun made it more real, a reminder that this wasn't just some nightmare to be dispelled by the dawn.  Even though we had seen the mass of them outside of the radio station in daylight, that these were coming for us made it different, and somehow worse.   They disappeared behind the curve of the road as Roger accelerated, the Jeep's engine roaring.

Eli clutched the shotgun in both hands, rocking in his seat.  He kept repeating "Holy shit, holy shit," over and over, his eyes closed.  Roger kept his eyes forward, never once looking in the rear view mirror.  I pulled myself into my seat and closed my eyes. "Fucking hell," I said to no one in particular.

"I told you."  Amy was almost smug as she spoke up. "I told you Stockton's gone, I told you over the radio, I told you at my house, and I told you in this very seat, that that town was fucking GONE!"  Her voice rose to almost a scream as her tension increased.  She balled her hands into fists and swallowed a deep breath of air, forcing herself to calm. "But did you listen?  No.  You assholes needed to see for yourself.  Well now you've seen it!  There's nothing there!  They're ALL DEAD."

"I have a plan."  It was Roger.

"Yeah?  I hope it doesn't involve fighting all those things, because, we can't."

He shook his head. "No.  I say we circle around and make our way back there, approach from the far side."

Eli looked over at him, "How the fuck is that a plan, man?  That's crazy!  Did you see how many there were, man?"

"Just, hear me out.  That shot made them come out.  Logically, there's none left inside.  They're also probably going to follow us until they can't smell the exhaust anymore.  I say we circle back, taking a couple of back roads through to the far end of 67, then back up to Stapleton's from below.  The place should be empty now.  We can't take our time or anything, but it should give us enough to run in, grab as much as we can carry, and get the hell out.  We can at least get ammo and a couple days worth of food, enough to make it through until we can find another town at least."

I nodded a bit, "You know, that's not half-bad."

Amy looked at me incredulously.  "Are you out of your fucking minds?  You want to go back through that?"

Roger said "Well, it's not ideal, but at least the situation--"

"The situation?  Not ideal?  What the fuck, man?  This isn't some board meeting!  You're not telling us about an investment!  This is our lives, man!  You can't just play risk manager with our fucking lives!"

"Well what's your plan?" I shouted.  Amy and Eli fell silent. 

"The fact of the matter is we are desperate.   We need that food.  We need that ammo.  At least this place is a known quantity.  Roger hit the nail on the fucking head - we know what we're dealing with here.  We can run and go to the next store, but what then?  Do you think we're going to find some mother lode, untouched and unpopulated?  This is reality now.  Every scrap of food, every round of ammo, every bottle of water, we're going to have to fight for it.  You're right, we can't go and kill all of those things back there.  But they're not in there anymore, at least for now.  We have a window, and it's closing fast."  I looked between Eli and Amy.  Neither said anything.  "Alright then.  Roger, go around, and get back there as fast as you can."

Roger nodded to me.  Amy mumbled something.  I looked to her, "What was that?"

"Take the second left.  Not the next one.  The next one's just a closed loop."

Roger nodded again, "Aye aye."

I settled back in my seat and looked at Amy. "Glad you're on board.  I mean--"

"Shut up."  She looked away from me again.  "Learn to stop talking when you've won the argument."

"Fair enough."  I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, doing my best to ignore the yawning rumble in my empty stomach.

****

It didn't take us long to navigate the winding roads to find our way back to route 67.  The problem was that we were close to the center of Stockton.  We could see the intersection ahead clogged with vehicles, an overturned fire truck, laying on its side across all four lanes of traffic, blocked the road out of town like an archaic guardian.  Cars of all sizes had tried to go around or through the mess only to find that the way was impassable.   We stopped a quarter of a mile back, looking at the backs of five cars jammed together on two narrow lanes of road and two grassy shoulders.  One was pushed up against a tree, wedged between it and the car on the other side.  Another was at an obscene angle, two wheels up against a rock it tried, and failed, to drive over.

I stood up in the back seat, leaning on the roll bar of the Jeep.  I could see the fire truck blocking 67, and I could see the road was completely clear beyond it.  The problem was the snarl of cars in front of us.

Eli shook his head, smirking derisively, "You got a plan now, man?  We got this in front of us, and somewhere behind us is a wall of fucking zombies."

I looked back and forth over the mess.  The sedans and coupes couldn't handle going off-road and got stuck, but something about what I was looking at didn't add up.  I kept staring, looking from car to car, trying to figure it out.  All of these vehicles were abandoned, left in the tangle of traffic while the drivers set out on foot, desperate to get away from Stockton, and the horrors that were growing behind them.  We didn't have to go far, just be able to get through a hundred feet or so and get past the fire truck,
then it would be smooth sailing on to Stapleton's.

Amy stood up beside me.  "Where are all of the SUVs?  Or trucks?"

I scanned the intersection again.  Not a single four wheel drive vehicle to be seen.  "I don't see any."

"Most people up here have one for the winter.  If there's none here, then none got stuck."

I grinned and slammed my hand down on top of the roll bar. "And that means there's a way around somehow, some way a car can't go."

Roger sighed, "Or some way a car is now clogging."

I drummed my fingers on the roll bar. "Pull forward.  We need a better look."

Roger put the Jeep in neutral and let gravity pull us down the gentle incline.  Once we got closer I could see a narrow path off of the far side of the road, up a rocky embankment at a precarious angle, but there were clear tire tracks cut into the dirt.  I pointed. "Right there.  Anything that could off-road was able to get up and over."

Amy climbed up to stand on her seat, trying to peer over the roofs of the abandoned cars. 

"There's a red sports car sideways in the road right there.  Looks like it skidded off the rocks."

"As long as four wheels are on the ground we can move it."  I hopped out of the Jeep.

Eli looked at me in horror. "What are you doing, man?"

I gestured to the cars. "I bet every single one of these things has keys in the ignition.  If we can just move them out of the way - not all of them, just enough to make a gap for us to drive through, we can get around that thing and make our way up the road."

Roger chuckled to himself. "I worked as a valet for three summers at my father's country club.  I never thought parking cars would actually become a useful skill."  He turned off the ignition and pulled up on the emergency brake, then slapped Eli on the knee. "C'mon boy, let's get parkin'."

Eli reluctantly unbuckled himself from his seat and stepped out of the Jeep, still clutching the shotgun tightly in both hands.  I could see his nerves were frayed, his eyes darting left and right with every hesitant step.  I walked to him and handed him my rifle.  "That silver Honda there isn't going anywhere," I said, pointing at the car up against the tree, "why don't you climb up on the roof and keep watch for us?  We're going to be pretty distracted getting in and out of cars, especially if we have to push a bunch of them.  No sense leaving us defenseless."

Eli nodded, taking the rifle and handing the shotgun to me.  I quickly passed it off to Roger.  "You're faster on your feet, so you're on point."    Eli climbed up onto Honda, gave a quick look through the scope down both ways, then signaled the all-clear.

"So," Roger said, "where do we start?"

Amy pointed at a blue Ford near the corner.  "That one."

We both looked at her quizzically.

She gave an exasperated sigh, "It's like Tetris, but in reverse.  That one will be the easiest to get out.  It's not blocked or jammed in.  It may have been one of the last cars in from this side.  We start there, and pull them out one at a time."

I gave Roger a shrug, "Sounds like as good a plan as any."

We spent the next half hour carefully making our way through the mass of cars, moving them one at a time.  Most still had the keys in them, showing the mindset of the people that got out of them.  They weren't just in a rush, they were panicked, moving in desperation.  Once they couldn't drive any further they opened their door, got out, and ran.  I could see a few of the cars still had people strapped into the seats, the cars to either side crushed in so tight it would be impossible to get in our out.  I couldn't imagine someone sitting in their car while they slowly starved to death, so I guessed they were bitten - a few of the infected trying to run before the disease overcame them, sitting in traffic as their bodies failed them.  I kept a wide berth from those cars, making sure not to rouse their inhabitants.  We piled them along the road, two deep, leaving just enough of a channel to drive the Jeep through.  The last car, though, was completely stuck.  Its nose was smashed against the front end of the fire truck, its fenders caved in, the wheels immovable under the twisted body.  The driver was still inside, slumped over the steering wheel, a bloody starburst or red on the inside of the windshield where his head hit it in the collision.

Roger came to step beside me as I stared at the car.  "No driving that."

"No," I said, "not like this.  What about pushing it with the jeep?  Nudge it against the back there and shove it out of the way?"

Roger walked around the broken car, looking at the angle of approach we would have to take. "We'll end up coming in broadside.  We'll collapse the door and wedge it in tighter against the truck.  We may get enough space to pull around."

"It's all we got, right?"

"Well, the problem is, if we don't have the space, we may end up wedging ourselves in and not be able to get out."

Amy walked over, looking at the last car with us, her arms folded.  "We could try to tip it."

I looked at her incredulously.

"What?"

"Tip it?  As in, push it over?"

She nodded with a smirk, "Yeah, why not?  I mean, it's just a little two-door, right?  We get under it and push it on to its side, then it's easy to roll it over onto the roof, and it's out of our way."

Roger raised an eyebrow.  "It's still a car, Amy.  We can't just pick it up and move it aside like a piece of furniture."

She smiled, "Sure we can.  Just get it rocking on the springs, then lift.  At school a few of the basketball players tipped a car bigger than this one as a prank."

Roger shook his head with a smirk, "Shitty prank.  Surprise, body damage!"

"They were careful!  Only a few scratches and a broken mirror."

I held my hands out, "Alright, alright, enough stories.  C'mon let's give it a go.  If we can't lift it we'll bring the Jeep in and try Plan A."

We all lined up on the driver's side of the car, taking position so that we could grab it from underneath.  "Alright," I said, "on three.  One, two, three!"  We started to rock it, up and down, a little harder each time, letting the suspension do as much of the work as possible, but as we lifted we couldn't seem to get the wheels to lift more than a couple inches off the ground.  We held it there, suspended, all of us grunting and struggling.  My arms burned with the strain as I tried to heave it over.  Roger let out a sharp gasp as he lost his grip.  Amy and I let go immediately, and it landed back on the ground with a thump.

From his perch Eli said "Guys..."

Roger muttered and said, "OK, one more shot at this, I think we can do it."

"Guys!"  Eli's voice rose.

I moved back to the side of the car, crouching down.  "Ok, you guys in, let's go, and--"

"GUYS!"

We stopped our countdown, and I growled in frustration. "Damnit, Eli, what?" I turned to face him.

He was pointing up the hill, beyond our parked Jeep.  I could see a mass of bodies, shambling in a cluster, shoulder to shoulder.  There must have been over a hundred of them, the original group picking up stragglers as it moved, following our trail.  They whined and groaned loudly, a cacophony of noise echoing in the clear summer day.  From all around us we could hear more.  Every dead thing in the cars woke, the call of their brethren causing their spark to ignite.  I could see monsters trapped in locked cars, flailing and pawing at broken windshields and tugging on seatbelts.  My skin crawled.  I could feel cold sweat running down my back.  The distinct feeling of being surrounded, of being trapped, consumed me.  Everywhere I looked were clawed hands and gaping mouths, dead eyes staring, hollow moans assaulting my ears from all sides.

Roger grabbed my arm and shook me. "Alex!  Now!  Lets fucking go!"

I blinked and looked at him.  The car in front of us shook as the driver, his head caved in on one side, pawed at the driver's side window, leaving messy streaks of decaying flesh and rotten blood.  My eyes went wide. My muscles locked.  Amy whimpered as she stared at the flailing monstrosity trapped in the car.  Roger shook me again, shoving me towards the car, "Grab it!  Lift!"  He pushed Amy's shoulder, "Lift!  Do it!  On three!"

My ear was pressed to the door.  The thing's feet thumped against the floor, getting caught on the pedals it no longer understood.  Its fingers scraped against the glass, the flesh worn down to the bone.

"ONE!  TWO!  THREE!"

We lifted.  We groaned and grunted.  The fear gripping at my heart made my pulse pound in my ears.  My muscles cried out as I gave it everything I had, adrenaline coursing through my system.  I could feel the car lift.  The thing inside groaned louder, more high pitched as it felt itself moving.  Another final shove tipped the car onto its side.  Glass broke.  The thing fell against the passenger side door, now against the ground.  I collapsed, out of breath, against the underside of the car.  I panted for air.  My arms felt dead, my shoulders ached, my hands were numb, the cool metal of the undercarriage a comfort against my cheek.

I didn't rest long.  Roger grabbed my shirt by the collar and pulled me to my feet.  "Jeep!  Go!"  He pushed me roughly.  I could see one of his hands was bleeding.  I looked into his face, not understanding.  "JEEP!" he yelled again.  Amy was already running through the channel between the cars.  Monsters reached for her as they past, trapped in the abandoned cars like animals in a zoo, desperate to eat the tourists but stuck behind glass.  Roger started to run.  He grabbed me by the arm as he went.  I felt my legs moving, but I wasn't the one moving them.  My body was driven by the fear, the primal need to flee.  My mind was detached.  It was all happening to someone else.

Eli was already in the driver's seat, revving the engine.  Amy climbed in back, reaching out to me as Roger shoved me forward.  I stared at the crowd coming down the road, a mob of shuffling and staggering bodies moving slowly towards us, the first of them close enough that I could see their open mouths and discolored teeth gaping below dead, colorless eyes.

The Jeep lurched as Eli let off the clutch too quickly, then again as he slammed on the brake to avoid hitting the first car in the lane, then stalled.  Roger snarled, "Oh for fucks sake!  I'll drive!  Move!  Move!"  He shoved the shotgun into Eli's chest and climbed over the stick shift into the driver's seat.  Eli clambered into the back with us, jumping across our laps rather than waste time going around to the other side.  Roger restarted the Jeep and put it in gear.  We wove and swerved, Roger navigating the narrow path.  I heard glass breaking somewhere close, a soft tinkle as shards hit the pavement, then a loud groan.