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Evacuation
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 13:33

Текст книги "Evacuation"


Автор книги: Phillip Tomasso


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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 14 страниц)


Chapter Two

The van we hid behind would work until the group was on us. After that, we’d be vulnerable.

“Should we hide?” Sues said. She turned her head, spun her body to follow. She did a full three-sixty. “There must be someplace to hide.”

“Spade, how many do you count?” Spencer said.

“The way they were moving, they’re the slow ones, sir. Best I can tell, anyway. Must be between twenty-five and thirty. Hard to get a good count. Could be more behind them that just aren’t visible at this angle with the sun where it is.”

Spencer nodded and then he did the oddest thing. He looked at me. “Thoughts?”

Must be because I appeared to be the leader of my own squad. Or because Spencer was probably twenty years old and I reminded him of his fucking dad or something. “Have a lot of extra clips for these guns?” I said.

The zombies were already across the bridge and crossing Lake Avenue. They were making their way down the parkway now. Why they hadn’t gone left or right, or split up, I had no idea. Point was; they hadn’t. They continued to make their way west.

Spencer patted at the gear on him. I didn’t see anything other than the Kevlar vest, a flashlight, cuffs and mace. Must have been more items inside the various pockets. I trusted he knew what he was talking about. “Way I figure, the tipped van is as good a place as any to make a stand. We put the kids inside. Those things won’t be returning fire, so it’s not like there’s danger from a gas tank getting hit. With six of us, we should be able to clear them.”

“Only downfall is that the shots will attract more,” Pettenski said. “They’ll come from everywhere. Out of the woodwork, you know?”

“We’d have to do it quick. Like shooting gallery style,” Spencer said. “Are you a good shot?”

“I won’t miss,” I said. It was as true a statement as any. The herd was massive and appeared to be growing, spreading. I just had to fire into it. If I missed a target that size, shame on me.

Dave just kept nodding up and down. “I like it, Chase. I do. I like it.”

I looked at Allison. Her eyes were easy to read. She was in. “Kids, I’m going to put you into the van. Fast,” I said, because once I got onto the vehicle and slid open the cargo door, we’d have been spotted. Cover blown.

“I’m fighting,” Charlene said. I expected it.

“Not this time. You’re going to protect your brother. That’s what I need you to do. No arguments. Not now. You want to be mad, fine. You want to discuss it, fine. But after. Understand?” I said. I wasn’t yelling. I definitely grit my teeth while I spoke though. I needed my daughter to understand that this was not me being mad, but I was serious and there was no time for compromise. She got it.

“Take my hand, Cash,” she said.

“On three, I’m going to jump up onto the side of the van and slide the door open,” I said.

“We’ll hand the kids up.”

“I’m not a kid,” Charlene said.

I shot her a look.

She lowered her eyes.

Silently, I counted out three, showing my fingers.

Dave quickly laced his hands together. I stepped into the makeshift stand. He hoisted me up and I scrambled to slide the door open.

“Sir,” I heard Pettenski say. I was tempted to look around.

Staying as focused as one can in such a situation, I tugged on the door handle. It did not budge. I kneeled on the sliding door, tried the passenger door, and it lifted open. “The kids,” I said.

“Sir,” Pettenski said, again.

The military opened fire. The sound of their rifle shots was not as loud as I’d expected. On the other hand, maybe my head was so filled with rushing blood that my hearing was impacted.

Cash was handed to me first. He stayed low, belly flat on the fiberglass. I helped him drop into the van. “Come on, Charlene,” I said.

Dave practically tossed her up. She inserted herself through the open door. “Stay low, and safe,” I said.

Only now did I allow myself to look, after I closed the passenger door. I wished I’d remained blissfully blind to what came at us.

The zombies might have appeared sluggish crossing the bridge, but a good chunk of them was fast, though. Half, maybe. Judging from the amount of gunfire I heard, to the few zombies that actually went down, they were also harder to hit. Way harder to kill.

And my kids were now locked inside a tipped-on-its-side van. Locked. Better than the thought of trapped. If this went bad, though, trapped is what they’d become.

I stayed on one knee on the side of the van and aimed. I fired off two shots.

Below was chaos. The military guys yelled back and forth. Too much yelling, if you ask me. They made everything more confusing. I couldn’t listen to what was said, or shouted, because I needed to concentrate. I wanted every bullet to hit true. The distraction made it a hundred times more complicated.

At least ten of the fast zombies were almost on us. I couldn’t take the time to count. I had no idea how many bullets this clip held. Seven? Ten? No clue.

I think I missed my first two. The next three, I hit the target, but not on the bull’s eye. A shoulder, gut and heart shot. Any other time, that might be considered all right. With zombies, it had to be a head shot. Kill the brain. Destroy it.

That’s when I noticed the other vehicle on its side. I mean, I’d seen it. Just hadn’t thought of using it. I closed one eye, aiming for the gas tank and let off two quick shots.

I worried I’d seen too many movies.

Thought for sure I was out of my mind after squeezing the trigger, but something sparked, and the car exploded. A giant black mushroom cap, raised into the air by a pillar of flames, erupted. Most of the fast zombies still ran at us, but as human torches.

Black smoke billowed up from their outstretched arms.

Slowly they fell, crawled at us, and then stopped.

Someone yelled something about nice shooting.

It had been. Have to pat myself on the back after. The explosion took out plenty of zombies, but there were more. Many more.

“We’re being flanked,” I heard. Thought it might be Spade.

Flanked. Did that mean more zombies from a different direction?

“I’m out,” I said, and turned. “I need more ammo!”

Spencer tossed over a clip.

I almost missed it. It bounced on my fingers and I wrapped them around and as quickly as I could, and reloaded.

“We need to move forward. Charge the remaining zombies,” Pettenski said.

I fired and landed a headshot, then another.

The fast zombies seemed neutralized. Dead. Really dead. The slow ones had not stopped though. They continued toward us. They dragged limbs with labored steps. Sounded ironic, but they did not look well.

Hungry? Would starvation kill them eventually? Could starvation kill something that was already supposedly dead?

“Chase, get your kids,” Spencer said.

I didn’t like it. The idea of moving made me apprehensive. Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes. I ignored the sting and pulled open the van door. Charlene sat on the glass by the driver’s side with Cash cradled in her lap. “We’re moving. Let’s go,” I said, as my arm lunged into the van.

Cash grabbed on. I pulled him out and set him next to me.

His silence was almost too much. He cried, but did not otherwise make a sound. I hated to think about the trauma he felt. I did not forget that he’d just lost his mother and that alone had to affect his mind.

Charlene refused my hand. She climbed up and out on her own. She was traumatized, too. She was hell-bent on showing me that she was independent, and capable of fighting side-by-side, and that she no longer wished to be treated like a child. She’d proved it several times since the outbreak, but I was her father. We didn’t let go of our little girls. Not easily. Not while there was still fight left in us. At least, that was the way I saw it. I wished she didn’t work so hard to show me how traumatized she wasn’t.

We scrambled down off the van. I did not want to run, because it seemed more dangerous. We’d be fully exposed. Shooting had been a challenge as it was, running and shooting sounded impossible.

Pettenski, Spade and Spencer had their knees bent, rifles raised. They encircled us.

I knelt down. “Climb up, sport,” I said.

Cash grabbed onto my neck. He was nine but weighed a ton. Or at least sixty pounds. It felt like a ton, but it didn’t matter, I’d carry him. Couldn’t have him trying to run and keep up. I wasn’t going to lose him or Charlene. They were all that mattered, more now than ever.

“Stay close,” I said. Charlene nodded. The attitude was gone. For now, anyway.




Chapter Three

To say the situation looked hopeless sounded nothing short of melodramatic to an extent. It appeared that way, though. Hopeless. Zombies came at us from nearly every direction. The sound of gunfire attracted them like flies to shit.

Spade took point, working to lead us closer to the bridge. The boy could shoot. No doubt about it. He’d let one rip. Headshot. Pivot one way, headshot. Pivot the other, headshot. If it weren’t such a dire situation, I would have applauded.

Instead, I stayed low and followed. I shifted Cash around on my back, trying to hold him with my arms. It was an awkward angle, mainly because my gun was tucked into the front waistband of my pants. He had his arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I felt his breath, quick, shallow and hot on my neck. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I’m okay, Dad.”

Behind me was Charlene, and behind her, Allison. Dave and Sues stood beside me. Spencer took up the rear, and right side. Pettenski had the rear and left covered.

The idea wasn’t much different from when pioneers crossed the new frontier. When natives attacked, the wagon trains ran in a tight circle. It was an attempt to create a kind of moving and fortified structure. I never studied the era, and westerns were never my style, so I had no idea how it turned out for them. Skilled Native Americans launching arrows at covered wagons. Seemed like the guys at the reins were sitting targets. Literally.

Right now, with three military guys around us, I didn’t feel that safe, or secure.

We weren’t out of bullets, but I couldn’t help worry there were more zombies than ammo. Hand-to-hand combat seemed like a terrible idea. I was ahead of myself, I know. We weren’t there, yet. Not yet that far gone.

“Keep moving, keep moving,” Spencer said. “Don’t stop.”

I don’t know who he thought had stopped and looked back, because our group was walking. Everyone pushed forward. Spencer might just be barking out orders for the sake of yelling. We didn’t need the added tension.

Spade ejected a clip, dropped it, slapped in a new one and went right back to firing off shot after shot without missing a single beat, or skull. We continually had to step over and walk around the wake of proof. If there was still a government in place at the end of all of this, I planned to nominate the guy for whatever awards were available.

“Dad,” Cash said.

“Yeah, buddy? What?” I said. Now was not the best time to talk.

“They’re getting closer,” he said.

“We’re okay,” Charlene said. She spoke to her brother the way her mother might have–her voice calm, soothing. I knew she was just as scared as Cash, and as I was. Her insides had to be as shaky as mine felt. I didn’t catch a trace of any of that in her tone of voice.

“We just keep walking, Cash. We stay close. We keep walking,” I said. I smelled something burning. Nearby something had to be on fire. The sky was blue. I did not see any pillars of black smoke rising. There was no mistaking the combined odor of old clapboard, wires, carpeting, clothing, upholstery and flesh.

Cash had been right, though. As good a shot as Spade was, as much as we were able to keep moving forward, there seemed an endless stream of monsters converging. Simply an endless wave of them.

It felt hard not to run. Running seemed more natural. If we ran, there would be no way to stay in a tight group; no way for the encircling protection to work as well as it had been. Fighting the urge to sprint took willpower.

“Something’s on fire,” Dave said.

“I smell that,” Sues said. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

“It’s behind us,” Spencer said. “A house or something. Forget about it. We’re going the opposite way. Keep moving.”

“I’m out,” Spade said. “Out.”

My heart and stomach swapped spots. I think my knees wobbled some. “Now what?”

“Me, too,” Pettenski said.

Spencer nodded. “We’re going to run. Launch grenades there, and there. And there.”

Spencer pointed to the front, left and right. At angles.

Spade threw the first grenade. It landed toward Lake Avenue, at the largest group of gathered zombies. Limbs flew when it exploded.

There was little time to take in the horror. We were running. I kept my arms behind me, holding onto Cash. Charlene and Allison were on either side.

More grenades detonated around us, the soldiers pulled pins and tossed more and more as we ran. It was an effective way to take out large numbers of zombies at once. But not all of them. Not nearly enough of them,

Over all, it did seem to be working. “Dave,” I said.

“We’re right behind you,” he said.

That was what I wanted to hear. We came to the Lake Avenue intersection. The O’Rourke Bridge was dead ahead.

“Fast zombies, sir,” Spade said. “I’ve got one left.”

“Pettenski?” Spencer said.

“One.”

We ran. They talked. Spencer used his radio. “Sergeant Vitale? Sergeant? This is Corporal Spencer.”

I just noticed the pod in his ear. I wasn’t going to be able to hear the second half of the conversation. I did not know where Spade spotted the zombies. Must be behind us, but I couldn’t look back, because I would trip. Cash and I would go down. I needed to pay attention to my footing–on reaching our destination.

The one thing that looked a little promising was that the bridge finally appeared clear.

“Throw them,” Spencer said.

I did not see where the last two grenades were launched, but I heard them explode. It was behind us.

“We’re out,” Spade said.

I ran as fast, and as hard as I could. Felt the burning in my lungs. Muscles around my stomach tightened. Squeezed. I wouldn’t be able to keep it up. Adrenaline only lasted so long. We’d been at it awhile, and I felt drained.

“Keep running, Daddy,” Cash said. I wondered if he heard my thoughts, or read my mind.

“We’re not stopping, not until we’re somewhere safe.”

Spencer said, “Pettenski! Pettenski, get back here!”

“Sir,” Spade said.

“No, we keep running.”

I had to look. I did not like being blind.

Pettenski had stopped on the bridge. He held a long knife in each hand. He was going to take them on alone. With knives.

“I can’t let him do this alone,” Spade said.

“We have orders. We need to get the civilians to the Coast Guard. You know that, Private First Class! Pettenski is buying us time to complete this mission. You will stay with us!” Spencer sounded as winded as I felt.

No one ran very fast right now. Pettenski earned all of our attention. You might call him crazy, a rebel, but to me, Pettenski was a hero. A martyr.

The first fast zombie reached Pettenski. He dropped down, swept its leg, and drove his blade into the back of its neck once it landed face down on the asphalt. Like a coiled spring, Pettenski shot back up to his feet in time to grab the arm of a second zombie. He drove the blade into its throat, and sliced.

Spade took off.

“Spade!” Spencer said.

When Spade didn’t stop, when he continued toward Pettenski, Spencer turned to us. “We’re moving. Now.”

“We have to help them,” Dave said.

“They are trained soldiers. They have combat experience. They can take care of themselves. Now move it!” Spencer pointed east. “Now!”

Spade yelled and then jumped into the fight. He kicked over a zombie, dropped a knee onto its back, lifted its head by its hair, and drew his blade across its throat.

My kids saw more than they needed. “Let’s go,” I said to Dave.

Dave took Sues by the hand.

Allison was crying. I bit my upper lip. There were no words.

Charlene was already following Corporal Spencer.

It didn’t feel right leaving two soldiers behind. Did not feel right at all.




Chapter Four

On the opposite end of the O’Rourke Bridge were more disabled vehicles. The hood was up revealing the engine compartment of an SUV. One of those small Italian cars was on its side, up on the sidewalk of the bridge. Others were smashed together.

When people inoculated with the vaccination changed into zombies, it happened fast enough. They actually change. How long the incubation period lasted, I had no idea. Like I’d said earlier, seemed like everyone changed on the same day, though, which, when you thought about it, didn’t make sense. None at all, but it still felt that way.

“Sergeant, we crossed the bridge. Headed down to the marina now.” Spencer waved with his arm. We were taking the Joy Lane footpath. “Yes, sir.”

The path led to Marina Drive. The river we’d just crossed, we now headed back toward. Sailboats and yachts filled parking spots in a large lot. The Genesee River emptied into Lake Ontario. It wasn’t an oddity, but was one several rivers that ran south to north. There was no mistaking it, as it was muddy brown, and smelly. Some of the larger boats still sat in slips.

“Coast Guard has a boat on the way to get us,” Spencer said.

Clouds filled the sky. There might be another storm. At the very least, it was going to rain.

Spencer yelled into his radio, “Spade. Pettenski. Let’s go. Let’s go!”

I wished I had heard if they answered. The Corporal gave no indication. We didn’t stop. “Are they coming?” I said.

“Keep going,” Spencer said.

“We can’t leave them. They’re right there,” Dave said, and pointed up at the bridge.

“Spade. Pettenski.” Spencer looked intently at Dave, as if he was attempting to say, I’m trying, I’m trying.

“We should go back for them,” I said.

“The boat’s coming.”

“It can wait,” Dave said. “Sues, you stay here.”

I told Allison the same thing. “Watch my kids.”

“I cannot let you go,” Spencer said. He had no ammo and no grenades, so the only way he could stop us was physically. I had no doubt he could do it, but would he try?

I heard the Coast Guard. The silence around us was shattered by the engine puttering in the river. “We’ll be fast,” I said.

“Daddy, no,” Cash said.

Charlene took his hand. “Hurry back,” she said.

Dave and I ran fast. I ignored the stitch in my side and pressed my hand against the pain. It was not going to slow me. The sound of that boat getting closer just screamed salvation.

“We don’t have any weapons,” Dave said.

I ignored him. We rounded the walk to the bridge and stopped.

Pettenski was down. Zombies were on top of him. They pulled and ripped at his flesh. Spade was about to throw creatures off his comrade. It would be useless at this point.

“Spade,” I shouted. “Spade!”

He wasn’t going to be able to save Pettenski.

Dave and I ran at them.

Spade looked at us, waved us away.

There were more zombies on the bridge. They took up four lanes, moving like a mob. Slow, sluggish, but deadly.

The milky white skin that glazed their eyes was almost too much to bear. You wanted to look away, close your own eyes and wish them gone, and wish the nightmare over.

“Come with us, Spade,” Dave said. “We can’t save Pettenski. We can’t.”

Spade kicked the head of a zombie with combat boots. Must have been steel-toe, because I heard the crunch from where we were.

“Let’s go,” I shouted. “Now!”

Spade looked torn. “Now, Spade. Now,” Dave said.

Perhaps sensing the uselessness, Spade left Pettenski. Pettenski was beyond healing, beyond mending. He was dead.

Spade ran at us with fast zombies chasing after him. Five, no, six of them. The creatures sprinted. Spade didn’t have a chance.

I ran toward Spade.

The man had been fighting for over five minutes, puncturing and annihilating a whole host of undead. He was raw, and worn out.

“Knife,” I yelled as I got close.

He tossed it; I caught it, and ran past him.

I drove the blade into the closest zombie. It went through the eyeball. The jagged blade sawed into the brain. I shoved my foot into its gut and pulled the knife free. I spun to my right, all the way around, and buried the blade into the throat of another.

Thick black blood oozed from the wound, coating my hand. The zombie pulled back. I lost my grip. The knife was still lodged in place.

The other four zombies were almost on me.

I lunged forward and used both hands to retrieve the weapon just as I was tackled.

It was on me. Up close. Its flesh was purple, and pasty. Those milky white eyeballs. Bits of human flesh wedged between teeth as its mouth opened wide. It looked as if its nose had been chewed off completely. Black gums, rancid breath, and a darting black tongue came at me.

I stabbed it over and over in the back and side, feeling the blade bounce across bone. It had to be doing damage inside, severing things and shredding others.

The zombie seemed unaffected.

It was all about the brain, the central nervous system. It truly was the only way to stop them. Only, I couldn’t get at its head.

Its hands wrapped around my throat. I fought with one arm to wriggle free, to no avail. It kept snapping teeth at me, jousting its head forward hard, but my forearm deflected the bites.

It was going to be the end. There were far too many zombies on the bridge. Even if I managed to get away from this one, it would be only a fraction of a second before…

Bullets rang out. A lot of them. A machinegun was being fired.

The zombie on me was pulled off and tossed aside.

Dave huffed and puffed. He was covered in dark blood. He jumped onto the zombie’s skull with both feet as I slowly sat up and pushed my way up to stand. That skull shattered. Brain matter squished out from every orifice.

A Humvee was on the bridge, cleaning house.

The gunner on top reminded me of Han Solo in the gun pit of the Millennium Falcon. The cavalry arrived.

Dave grabbed my arm, turned me. Spade was down by Joy Lane. We raced toward him. My heart hammered inside my chest. Rolling tears felt cold against my skin. I thought it had been over; my kids would have been orphaned.

Spade waved toward the Humvee, and let out a whoop.

We rounded Joy and cut to Mariana Drive.

I saw the Coast Guard boat docking. My kids ran for it. They didn’t yet see me. They didn’t look back. Zombies closed in on them.


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