“I
think I
just saw something at the last street!” said
Emma
.
Gem eased on the brake
, watching the rear view mirror
.
To her great relief, the
GTO stopped smoothly behind her. “What
was it
, Suz
i
?”
“I think it was a sleeve or something. I’m not sure.”
“Flip a tit,” said Eddie.
“I hate that,” said
Emma
.
“
Sorry
,” said Eddie, sarcastically.
“
U-turn
.”
As Gem did exactly that, Charlie leaned over the back of her seat and said, “If you two don’t stop
the banter
, people will say you’re in love.”
“WTF?” asked Eddie.
“
Facebook’s
gone,” said Gem. “You may now feel free to just say
what the fuck
.”
“Just keeping the dream alive,” said Eddie, a smile in his voice
.
“
Over
there
,” said
Emma
. “Yeah, right there
, on the right
. See? On the corner, on that hedge.”
“Keep the spots moving, and let me know if I need to worry,” said Charlie
, opening the car door
. “Gem, be ready with your gun.”
Before getting out, Charlie
pressed the button on
her radio. “Nobody else should fire unless we give you the go ahead.
If
anyone sees
anything, Gem
or I
will handle it.”
Nobody said anything, but Gem swore she
heard
disappointed moans from the other vehicle.
Charlie
slid out of the Crown Vic and pulled
her crossbow out, switched on the LED light strapped to it, and scanning the streets, approached the hedge. She reached it, leaned forward and reached out.
She
gripped
the thing
in
the hedge and struggled for a moment to free it. When she turned back toward the car, she held a human arm.
Complete with attached hand.
Her
wrinkled nose and grimace
told the whole story. Charlie tossed it into the yard beyond, and jogged back to the car
wiping her hand on her jeans.
It was
more of a
strained jog.
She got inside, and Gem said, “
You may not be showing yet, but that fetus really takes the runner out of you, doesn’t it, sweetie?”
“Ha ha,” Charlie said. “That whole hedge is tho
rny. O
ne of the bastards proba
bly got his arm caught.”
“Ah,” said Eddie. “The downfalls of
walking around while you’re dead
.”
Charlie pointed. “It looked like the arm was headed this way. It was
a left arm
, and the direction fits.”
The moon was non-existent,
and yet there seemed to be areas of pitch darkness even blacker than the rest
. A complete absence of light, which made the soul feel, Gem thought, as though
it would reject
goodness.
“I don’t like this shit much,” she said aloud.
“Don’t get jumpy on me, bitch,” said Charlie.
Gem forced a smile. “I don’t like the dark. Not when things can hide in it.”
Just as the words left her lips and hung in the air of the Ford’s interior
,
forty or more pink and
scarlet-colored lights appeared
, hovering in the air like fireflies.
They hovered over the street.
“What the hell is that?” asked
Emma
“I’m guessing,” whispered Eddie, “that they’re zombie eyes.”
“My guess too,” said Charlie, her voice equally
hushed
. “Hit the headlights, Gem.”
Gem turned them on. As they watched, more and more of them flooded into the street
ahead
,
no more than
two hundred
yards
away
.
Gem hit the high beams and grabbed the radio from the seat. “Louis, have somebody light up that spotlight, now. Shine it right at them and move it back and forth. You too, Eddie.”
Gem spun the gun around, but the light revealed more and more of them pouring down
Pearce Street
. They were moving toward them
, as slow as the dead tended to move, but as steady as a lumbering freight train
.
And at their feet were ratz. Thousands of them. Gem’s mouth hung open.
“Gem,” said Charlie. “We gotta go. Now.”
“Absolutely.”
But she stared at the oncoming horde, even as it grew larger. Like kids flooding out of a concert, the ragged former humans staggered up the street, men, women, children and ratz. Apparently this street hadn’t had a good dousing of urushiol in too long, for the ratz were not slowing. In fact, they had moved out a good twenty feet or so ahead of the growing group.
“Go, Gem!” said Charlie. She reached up, spun the gun around, and fired, moving it side-to-side. Many in the front of the throng dropped or fell backward, causing several others to trip and fall to the asphalt, too.
But it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. For every five that fell, it seemed another fifty took their place.
“Now, Gem! Go!”
Gem floored the Crown Vic and spun the wheel right, sliding the rear end around in a fishtail. The GTO behind her did not lack power, but Louis wasn’t as sure behind the wheel, and his turn was slower.
But he made it. Charlie turned the gun toward the rear again and monitored him on the GPS screen.
They were putting distance between them and the zombies now, but finding Jimmy and Nikki was a distant memory; a failed plan.
“Where are we going to go?” asked
Emma
.
“Not to your house,” said Gem. “They know where you live.”
“Are … are they controlling the ratz?” asked Eddie.
“I have no fucking idea,” said Charlie. “But if they are,
we are more screwed than I ever thought.
”
Gem drove. Charlie watched behind them.
She checked the fuel gauge, just in case.
Still three-quarters full.
Gem wondered where in the hell her husband and his best friend were at that moment.
*****
Dave stared at the reflection of the flashing red light in the window.
Darkness had fallen completely, and there was no moon tonight. It was the only light he could see.
Serena sat beside him, their bodies touching from shoulder to knee. The temperature had fallen into the thirties, and Dave realized he’d worried about everything but that.
“I wonder if they get more sluggish in the cold,” he said. “Lisa and I saw them in that building that night, but we never had to fight them.”
“They don’t get tired, or even exhausted for that matter. I wouldn’t chance it. Cuddle me.”
“My ass is cold, for Christ’s sake,” said Dave. “Damned concrete.”
“If you had some meat on there, you might be better off,” she said. “Maybe you should sit in my lap.”
“Have you got your headlamp? Give it here.”
“Got an idea?”
“Yeah. I’ll have to trash my silencer, but it might be worth it.”
“I’m all ears,” said Serena.
Dave got up and walked across the small, one-room building and looked out the opposite window. He cupped her headlamp in his hand and flipped the switch to a solid red light.
The bars were on the inside of the glass and were attached with screws designed for tightening only.
He turned and sighed.
“They’re like those damned screws they put bathroom stalls together with.”
“Can you maybe work something around it?” asked Serena.
“Don’t have pliers.”
“Are the bars tight? It looks like an awfully old building. Plus the bars are rusted.”
Something hit Dave suddenly. He tip-toed again and looked out.
“There are no zombies on this side. Not a one.”
Serena scrambled to her feet and joined him. She peered out.
“
Jesus
. We need to figure a way out of here before our WAT-6 runs completely out and we’re a smorgasbord for these crazies.
And it’s not looking like anyone’s coming anytime soon.”
Dave
gave the lamp to Serena and
grabbed one of the ba
rs with both hands, shaking it.
It squealed slightly, but it moved.
“Did you see that, Serena?”
“I’m right here, David,” she said, smiling.
“I know.”
He shook it again. This time it felt as though it moved farther.
“Here. Hold the
light up again.”
He inspected the screws again, and this time they were raised approximately a 32
nd
of an inch.
He shook the bars yet again. Hard, with quick, sudden jerking movements forward and back. Then he turned sideways and jerked them hard side-to-side.
“Light,” he said.
The screws
were now up about a 16
th
of an inch.
“Serena …” he said. “I call shotgun.”
“Counting chickens,” she said.
“
It’s confidence,” said Dave. “If
they don’t get to this side of the building, we’d better starting thinking about what we’re going to do when we crawl th
r
ough.”
“How are you going to break the glass?”
“They can’t hear. It won’t matter.”
Behind them a sharp crack sounded. They both turned.
“Is that … Jesus, is that a crack?” asked Dave. He walked to the window
and tentatively reached out to touch
it
. He turned back. “It is. We have to get the hell out of here.”
As he watched, a female hand rose up and
clawed at the glass. Then it pounded.
It did this
at least
four times before lowering again.
Dave had no desire to see the face of the one working the
glass. He ran back across the room and grabbed the bars again, shaking them furiously until he felt the bottom come free.
“Got it!” he said, pushing the bars upward, then down, working the top screws loose.
Three more hard pulls, and the bars came off in his hand.
Dave quickly pulled his tee-shirt over his head, wrapped it around his fist and punched the glass. It was louder than he’d hoped, but the shards of broken glass fell outward and he unwrapped his hand to pull
out
the sharp pieces
jutting from
the edge
s of the window frame
.
“I think we can get through,” Serena said, looking out the window again.
Dave turned once more to the opposite window just as that glass broke, too. Pink vapor immediately began pouring in.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Dave, looking at Serena.
“Lift me up,” she said, putting her hands on the high, concrete sill.
Dave gave her a boost, and she pushed her head and shoulders through. She struggled to clear the remaining bars on the left side, but managed it in under thirty seconds. Serena worked her right leg through, and Dave held her hands as she pulled her left leg through and dropped to the ground below.
“Now you. Hurry, David.”
“Take this,” he said, holding her gun out. She snatched it and leaned it against he wall as he gripped the other intact bars and pulled himself up on to the sill.
“Just lay back, and I’ll pull you out,” said Serena.
“Can you?”
“Now,” she said, and he did. Serena caught his upper body and dragged him out the rest of the way.
“Girl, you are strong,” he whispered as his feet hit the ground.
“Every day is a workout. Let’s run.”
They kept the building between themselves and the ghouls on the other side and their feet ate up the pavement with every ounce of strength they had. The pure adrenaline from having escaped their prison kicked in, and by the time they stopped, Dave’s lungs burned. He rested his hands on his knees and he tried to catch his breath.