Hamsikker: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel (5 page)

“Jonas, stop, you’re going to kill him.” Tyler put an arm around Jonas. “Leave him.”

Jonas sank back, his chest heaving as he drew in breath. He spat out bloody saliva, and turned to face Tyler. “That’s the least he deserves.”

Tyler nodded. “Maybe so, maybe so. Here, let me help you.” Tyler lifted Jonas to his feet, and the men looked at each other. Nothing needed to be said about what had just happened. They both understood the gravity of the situation.

“We need to get out of here,” said Tyler. “There’ll be more. There always is.”

“Just a second,” wheezed Jonas. From where he stood, he could still see Mary’s body, and his rage hadn’t dissipated yet. He didn’t want to go back out there to Dakota, to the others, and still be worked up like this. He needed to let it out. Beating Cliff had seemed so just, and so right; so why did he feel so bitter? Why did he want to cry? He hadn’t hit a man for a long time, much as he had been tempted to during the past few weeks. He had to clear his head. Once they were back outside, they had to be alert, careful, and quiet. If he wasn’t on the level, he was a liability, and there was more than just Dakota to worry about. The whole group looked up to him and Erik for leadership. If he couldn’t get them out of this mess, then it was all up to Erik. The man had a family though, and neither of them wanted to put more responsibility on the other. It wasn’t fair. Cliff had royally fucked them over.

“What do we do about him?” asked Jonas. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Cliff. He could hear the rasping breaths behind him, and knew that if they took Cliff with them, they would have to carry him. If they didn’t take him, they were essentially condemning him to death.

Tyler looked at Jonas. “You want to bring him with us? Even after this, after what he did? Where do we even go? I mean, Jesus, we’ve lost our safe house, we’ve nowhere else to go, and it’ll be sundown soon. There are zombies out there who will have heard this, you know? If we leave him, he’ll die, no doubt about it. Perhaps between two or three of us, we could carry him, but…”

Jonas grabbed Tyler’s gun, turned around, and pointed it at Cliff. He wanted to fire a bullet straight into the man’s temple. He wanted to forget this nightmare, to get rid of the bad egg, but he couldn’t do it. He lowered the gun and handed it back to a startled Tyler. Rage had turned to defeat, and Jonas’s shoulders slumped.

“We’ll say he was bitten. He wouldn’t have made it. He’d have just slowed us down until he turned. Understand?”

Tyler nodded, and looked at Jonas as he took the gun back. “I got it. There were too many of them and…”

“I don’t want you to lie for me,” Jonas whispered. “Your conscience is clean. This is on me.” Jonas looked at Cliff, and he knew he couldn’t leave him like that.

Jonas plucked his axe from a zombie’s head, feeling his bones ache as he bent down to retrieve it. He had to do it quickly. His hands shook, and sweat stung his eyes, but he had to do it; just not think about it, and do it. Before Tyler cottoned on to what Jonas was doing, he brought the axe down on Cliff’s head, the blade splitting Cliff’s skull open, killing him instantly.

“Jesus Christ,” said Tyler turning away as Cliff’s brains oozed out over the floor.

Jonas put a hand on Tyler’s sweaty back. “Remember, Tyler, this is on me. Forget about it. This whole fucking thing has been a nightmare.”

They walked over to the door as the pounding on it increased. Jonas unlocked it, and Erik nearly knocked him over as he charged into the garage, an aluminium baseball bat held high above his head.

“Relax, Erik, they’re dead, they’re all messed up,” said Jonas, pushing him back. He knew Erik could see the mountain of dead bodies behind him, but he didn’t want him to explore it. Once Tyler had followed Jonas out of the garage, back into the forecourt, he closed the door. “There’s nothing you can do now. They’re all dead.”

“What was that, Hamsikker? What the hell happened in there? Why’d you lock us out?” asked Erik. He only saw a fleeting image of the bloody room, but it was enough to know things had gone bad. His mouth dropped open as he realised only Jonas and Tyler had come out. “Where’s James? Anna? Oh Jesus, not Mary too?”

Dakota rushed to hug her husband. “Jonas, I thought…” Her words became muffled sobs as she buried her head in his shoulder.

More of the group filed closer to hear the conversation, demanding to know what had happened. Mrs Danick and Pippa were already crying, and all too aware that their friends were dead.

“What happened?” asked Erik. He rested his baseball bat by his side, unable to believe so many zombies had found them so quickly.

“Cliff sold us down the river,” said Jonas. “He said the garage was secure, but when we got in there, two doors on the far side opened and they just poured in. I don’t know what he was thinking. He probably never scouted it out at all. Tyler and I managed to take a lot of them down, and Cliff did most of the shooting, but…”

“Anna and Mary didn’t make it,” said Tyler. “James too. I saw him go down fighting. He was a tough son of a bitch.”

“Cliff too?” asked Erik remembering the larger-than-life mechanic. “They got him?”

Tyler and Jonas looked at each other.

“Yeah, they got him,” said Tyler. “They overpowered him, and he got bit. I made sure he couldn’t come back.”

Erik murmured something about it being the right thing to do, and then turned to Jonas. “Any sign of the person upstairs Cliff thought he saw?”

Jonas shook his head. “Nothing. It was just a zombie. There’s no one alive in there.”

“So, what now? We’re going to have to make tracks. Who knows how many more are hiding around here.” Erik looked around the forecourt nervously. Standing out in the open in this world was never a good idea.

“Where are we going to go?” asked Pippa.

“Yeah, Dad,” said Peter. “This was supposed to be safe. We can’t just wander the streets looking for somewhere to go.” Peter was holding his sister Freya by his side, wishing she didn’t have to hear this stuff. He wished for a lot of things that didn’t come true anymore.

“We should go back,” stated Terry plainly. He was an unassuming man, and rarely spoke up. He had been hiding with them for a few months, having been travelling with Anna and Mary. Jonas thought of him as something of a rarity amongst them. He was usually calm, and claimed to have despatched a lot of zombies into hell in protecting Anna and Mary. He was like a kindly uncle, always there in the background, never complaining, just waiting for his moment.

“We should just go back,” Terry repeated. “I know there’s no food left, but we do know that it’s safe. If we can retrace our steps, then…”

“Then what?” asked Erik. “It’s a big ask to retrace our steps to start with. The gunshots will draw more out, and getting back to where we started just seems like a backward step to me.”

“I agree,” said Peter. “We should go forward. Find somewhere new.”

“I agree with Terry.” Quinn was the same age as Peter, but she had twice the confidence, and had recently joined the group. She was assertive and bold, and would most likely lead the group herself once Erik and Jonas stepped down. Her youthfulness was only betrayed by a lack of vision. She could be headstrong, and that was why Jonas kept her on a leash. He was surprised to hear that she wanted to go back too.

“I have to say I think I side with Erik. We might be able to get back, but if we did, then what? We need to find food. If anything followed us back, we’d be stuck in that house with no food. We’re better to carry on, find somewhere else.”

“Anywhere that isn’t here,” said Dakota quietly. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stood by her husband’s side.

“Quinn, please, trust us, going back is never a good idea,” said Jonas.

“One thing we can’t afford to do is stand around debating it.” Erik slung his bat over his shoulder, walked to the closed door, and rested a hand on it.

Jonas was worried he was going to open the door. The chance of Erik noticing Cliff was slim given the amount of bodies piled up inside, but there would be some awkward questions if he did. There were a million reasons they had to get moving, most of them blood-thirsty zombies, but Cliff was one, and a very important one.

“I’m sorry for them, truly I am,” said Erik. “I don’t want to leave them like this, but there’s nothing we can do now. Anna, Mary, James, and yes even that asshole, Cliff, deserve a decent burial. If we get a chance to come back then we’ll do right by them. But Jesus himself would haul ass if he was in our position.”

“Amen to that,” said Randall. He was another in the group that rarely spoke up. Jonas found him a little tempestuous, but he didn’t make waves, and he often helped to look after Freya. He was almost as old as Mrs Danick was, didn’t eat much, or make much noise, but could be relied upon. He was always looking out for others, and never complained.

“May our brothers and sisters rest in peace,” Randall said quietly.

Erik took a length of licorice roll out, and began chewing on it. Jonas was relieved to see that Erik hadn’t opened the door and he whispered an ‘Amen’ with the rest of the group to the brief prayer for the fallen.

“Best to leave then,” said Quinn. “After you, Hamsikker.”

Jonas appreciated that she wasn’t arguing with him, or Erik. There had been others, Cliff particularly, who always seemed to find fault, who always wanted to pick and pick until the discussion turned into a debate, and the debate turned into an argument. Quinn voiced her opinion, but knew what battles to fight.

“Erik can take the lead,” said Jonas wearily.

“Come on, Pippa,” said Erik. She followed him, still crying, and their children Peter and Freya followed. Quinn, Terry, Randall and Mrs Danick followed them, leaving Jonas with Dakota.

“The noise will attract more, you know,” said Dakota. “Where do we go from here? What’s waiting for us on the road ahead?”

“We were stupid to trust him.
I
was stupid. We should’ve gone in alone. It’s not all on Cliff. I promised Anna I would look out for Mary, and now…”

“We work as a group remember? This is on all of us. Besides, you have your own family to look after. Don’t you ever do that to me again, Jonas Hamsikker. You’re all I’ve got. When I heard the shooting, I thought… Well anyway, you’re okay, I’m okay, and the others are waiting for us. Let’s go.”

Jonas could see Dakota was on the verge of breaking down. Her lips trembled as she spoke, and her eyes were clear. He could understand what she was thinking. If it had been the other way around, if she had been trapped in there with him on the other side of that door, he would’ve killed anything in his path, and moved Heaven and Earth to get to her. Losing her was not an option he could think about.

Jonas was pleased when the garage was behind them. He still couldn’t relax, but as it fell further behind so did the dark thoughts and anger. They were replaced with fear and uncertainty. They hadn’t ventured out into these streets before, at least not since the funeral. An hour ago, there had been fourteen in the group, and now they were ten. He felt responsible for all of them, and he intended to find a bed for every single one of them. The problem was he didn’t know where they were going. The part of town they were in now was the business district, and the shops and warehouses offered no protection at all. Large glass frontages could be broken easily, and the few warehouses they tried were locked up with no way in. They needed food too, and pushed on in search of houses. The streets were awkward to navigate, and progress was slow.

At one junction, telegraph poles and street lights barricaded the way. They’d fallen over each other and been left in a criss-cross formation, like an obscene obstacle course made of collapsed crucifixes. Jonas was reminded of the battlefields from the First World War. He couldn’t imagine being in that situation; even the amount of death he had faced lately paled into comparison to what those soldiers had gone through. A length of wire hung across the street. Dismembered limbs hung from it, rags and torn pieces of clothing in tatters flapping gently in the breeze. The wire had been put there on purpose, specifically to stop the advance of the dead. More lengths of wire lay on the ground where it had been pulled down, and they stepped over it carefully. Some of it was barbed, and chunks of rotten meat covered in flies were trapped in its sharp barbs. Jonas tried to ignore the stench, but it was impossible to avoid altogether, and he heard Dakota gag as they ventured through the junction.

“Come on, honey, let’s get past this.” He felt for her hand and she took it gratefully. The sun was fading, and they could do with a break. He could sense the frustration and disappointment within the group that the garage hadn’t worked out. He needed to get a result, to get them focused again, to get them somewhere safe, and he pushed on.

“You think we can find somewhere to stay?” asked Dakota. “Somewhere safe?”

“I’ll bet we can,” he replied. Dakota was no fool, and she wasn’t easily convinced. He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. “We’ll be fine, I can feel it.” Jonas hoped the tremor in his voice didn’t give away his true thoughts. He felt far from fine, and was beginning to doubt they would fine anywhere safe in Kentucky, let alone Jeffersontown. It was going to be a long day.

CHAPTER THREE

Creeping through the streets was unnerving, and Jonas could feel a million eyes staring at them, but they took it slow. Along with Erik and Quinn, they made their way down deserted roads. It was essential to keep quiet, so as not to draw the zombies, and so that they could hear any approach. Some of the dead were more agile than others, and whilst the slower ones could be dispatched swiftly, some of them could run, fast. Those were the ones you heard coming. They didn’t care what they banged into or over as they ran. The slower ones were like silent assassins, and could catch anyone out who wasn’t paying attention.

Erik directed them onto a larger road, and Jonas realised they had hit the Bluegrass Parkway. It was clear, lined with grass verges that hadn’t been mowed in months, and trees thick with leaves. The sun was achingly hot, but he made them continue. They had to put as much space between themselves and the garage as possible. Jonas hadn’t travelled on the Bluegrass since he was a teenager. It was a road he had used so many times that it was like second nature now. So much of his past he remembered, and yet so much was forgotten.

Travelling through Jeffersontown, Jonas was struck by how different it was from when he had last ventured out. Before the outbreak, the town had been bustling with activity; people and shoppers everywhere, lots of traffic, noise and vibrant colours. The town’s edifice had slipped, and the colour had been replaced by grey. Smoke still drifted through the air, and soot had stained many of the downtown shops and buildings. Surfaces not tarnished by the fires were dirty, or caked in blood. The roads were starting to crack with weeds pushing through after months of neglect. Many road signs had been knocked over by cars full of people desperate to escape. The streets of this once vibrant town were more like a war-zone.

A lonely canvas ‘For Sale’ sign fluttered by, its stark red and white lettering with painted, smiling faces at contrast with the deathly atmosphere of the town. They walked carefully amongst the debris, as if picking their way through the aftermath of an explosion. Jonas tried to imagine what it was like in Fallujah where his cousin has been stationed during the last conflict. So many civilians had died in the last round of fighting, so many homes destroyed, that there were rumours the US were pulling out, abandoning the town to its own fate. He couldn’t imagine having to try and find loved ones amongst so much rubble and death. Jonas passed a burnt corpse, and there was almost nothing left of the person. All that was left behind was a faint imprint of their soul, a charred shadow etched onto the tarmac.

The façade of the local cinema where years ago he had snuck in with Janey, and an underage Erik, to watch Army of Darkness had crumbled, exposing the seats inside. A truck had obviously smashed into the front of the building, weakening the already old structure. The huge empty screen was just visible through the bricks, towering over rows of dusty, vacant seats. The red velvet seats, lightly coated by dust, were now a shade of pink, and a huge vending machine had spilled its contents all over the pavement. Unfortunately, all that was left were empty cans and sweet wrappers.

Jonas was struck by a memory of Dakota laughing uncontrollably in similar seats at some dumb romantic comedy. The film’s name escaped him, but his wife’s face was perfectly clear, a perfect image frozen in his mind. He could sit through a thousand dumb films if it meant Dakota was happy, and he would give anything to see her smile again. Looking at her now, her eyes were full of sadness. The world was a shitty place, and he was at a loss how to turn things around. All he could do was lead them forward as best he could, find somewhere safe, and wait for things to calm down. People like Cliff came along once in a while, and he was going to have to be more careful from here on in. Cliff had been a bully, throwing his weight around, and demanding more concessions from the group; more food, more water, and continually raising expectations that could never be met. When they’d run out of food, and Cliff had told them of the garage, it seemed like a good idea. Jonas was glad Cliff was gone. The group would be better off without him.

Up ahead, Erik gripped his daughter’s hand tighter. Jonas had never heard the girl speak in all the time they had been forced to live together. Back at his father’s funeral, she had screamed as they’d driven away from the church. She had screamed for the whole time she was in the car. There were so many explosions and crashing cars around them, so many people running, shouting, and crying, and so much blood spitting across the windscreen, that it was amazing she hadn’t gone completely insane. When Jonas thought back to that first day, it all became a blur. It happened so fast. Mostly, he just remembered Freya screaming.

She shouldn’t have to be seeing this, she was too young. What kind of world did they live in now? How many had died? How many had lived? At the start, a lot of people had stopped by Erik’s house, whether looking for someone, or just looking for help to get out of town. The undead had passed by too, unaware that Jonas and others were hiding inside. It was Erik’s place, and Jonas was all too aware back then who had been in charge, but over time, Erik had backed away from leading the group, wanting to put more time into looking after his family. At first, it was just Jonas and Dakota, sharing the house with Erik, Pippa, Peter and Freya, and of course, Mrs Danick. Jonas couldn’t help but smile when he thought of the old woman. She had proven to be tougher than any of them and practical too. The only downside was her requirement for medication. It had run out a week back, and since then, she had become more withdrawn. She never let anyone help her, and even now stubbornly refused any assistance. She walked tall, always with a shawl around her shoulders despite the heat, and expected to do her part in protecting the group. It didn’t matter what he or Erik said, she steadfastly refused to accept her age, and told them she would pull her weight come what may.

Randall, Quinn, Anna, Mary, and James, had joined them over time. Finally, Cliff had arrived. There had been others knock on the door, but they had been moved on. Jonas and Erik had agreed to refuse entry to anyone who refused to give up their guns. Society had broken down quickly, and Erik knew many of the scum in the neighbourhood from his patrols. Usually, a warning shot was enough to scare them off, and they had luckily escaped intrusion. One man had threatened to kick the door down, demanding to be let in, but when confronted with Erik’s police issued Glock 22, and Jonas with an axe, he had soon backed down and run off. Jonas couldn’t remember where he had picked up the axe. Somewhere between the church and getting into Erik’s place, he must have picked it up. They had been forced to abandon the car a couple of blocks from the house, and it had been a nightmare just getting those few blocks. By that time, the dead were everywhere, and people were openly brawling on the streets. Jonas shuddered when he recalled that day. As if burying his father wasn’t bad enough, he had discovered the world was coming to an end too, and he’d witnessed things he thought were only true in Hollywood movies.

The end of summer couldn’t come quick enough. The days were hot and long, and seemed to drag into one another like one hot, horrible, tedious day. He longed for fall genuinely to kick in. The Dog Days of summer had gone, taking the thunderstorms with them, but he would give anything to feel that west coast wind again. The storms had flattened out, stirring up nothing but nervousness, but the temperature stubbornly refused to drop. Jonas was always on edge that another big storm might hit, and they would have no notice. Early on, they had all been worried a tornado could hit them without warning without a working television or radio. Erik’s house had no storm shelter, and if one did strike, it would’ve flattened them in seconds. Thankfully, they had gone through tornado season and not seen a single one. No doubt, there had been some, but whenever a storm had blown up, they just sheltered together in the basement and prayed. Dakota had far more faith than Jonas, and usually took them all through the Lord’s Prayer. Remembering those dark days in the basement, all holding hands while the winds whipped around outside and hail pelted the roof, he was thankful for his wife. She was a calming influence on everyone, and he knew Erik was especially pleased. Freya was barely ten, and having someone to help Pippa look after her was invaluable. When the winds had died down, and the storm had passed, he would kiss his wife and promise her they would make it through this. Quite what ‘this’ was, he wasn’t sure anymore. Zombies were something out of comic books and films, not real life. They were apparently here to stay though, and he would make sure Dakota was safe from harm, no matter what. She was all that he had right now. He still planned to get to Janey, to make sure she was safe, but Canada might as well be a million miles away. He had to trust that she would look after herself and the kids. He felt responsible for her, not just out of a natural sibling’s love, but he felt a duty to protect her. He had failed so miserably at it after their mother had passed, and now he wanted to make up for it. Once they had found somewhere safe to rest, and eat, he would venture the plan again to Dakota. Not knowing where Janey was, or if she was still okay, was gnawing away at him like a leech, and slowly sucking the life out of him. He hadn’t spoken to Janey for some time, and the last time they had spoken, she promised him she would stay home and wait for him, where the kids felt safe. He couldn’t be sure she would stay indefinitely though. How long would she be able to wait?

Jonas knew fall would make things colder, but at least it would take the edge off. Everyone was irritable, and he wasn’t sure how much longer the group would stay together. He and Dakota did not intend to leave Erik and his family, and he still hoped he could convince Erik to join him and Dakota in heading to Canada, to Janey’s. But the others had occasionally mentioned finding somewhere else to go, somewhere by the coast, and it was tempting. With no firm plans in mind, or anywhere specific to go, they had kept the coast as just an option, rather than a real choice. Randall and Quinn wanted to try for the eastern seaboard, head to South Carolina, to try to find somewhere quiet. Terry had convinced them at one point that Pensacola was the answer, and they had contemplated heading south, but eventually the idea had floated away like dust. So many ideas did that. With nothing concrete to hold onto, with no real idea of how they would get anywhere, they had stayed put, and their hope had died. It was clear that rescue was not coming, and they had no idea what was going on in the world. The dead had risen up so fast that it had taken everyone by surprise. Jonas remembered the last time he spoke to Janey, of the worry in her voice when she told him about the dead marching through the streets of Montreal. He’d made her promise not to go outside, to stay in with the kids, until he could reach her. That had been months ago, and now the world had been turned upside down.

The power had failed so quickly there had been little chance of finding anything more out. Television studios were abandoned, and satellites tracked off course so the internet rapidly disintegrated as well. For all they knew, the zombies had only emerged in the US and Canada. Perhaps the rest of the world was still fine; perhaps people were still going to work, still making love and watching sitcoms and drinking beer and playing games, and they had watched on, wringing their hands as the US had fallen. The thought they had been abandoned made him shiver. Then again, the whole world could be covered in walking corpses.

Every day was like a dream, a kind of survival groundhog day, just avoiding zombies and finding something to eat. Conversations in Erik’s house had grown stale like the air, and every day Jonas went to sleep wondering if he would wake up. Sometimes the thought of zombies attacking in the night, killing them all swiftly as they slept, held a certain appeal. This was no kind of life, and not going insane was an achievement in itself. Jonas couldn’t imagine ever seeing the sea again. He was thankful they hadn’t been in central Louisville when the dead had risen. So many people had died that day that there were surely no survivors from the city now.

Louisville’s infrastructure had disintegrated as quickly as everywhere else, hanging on a little longer than St. Louis, yet imploding far faster than Cincinnati or Nashville. Local industry had been ticking along nicely, keeping thousands employed right up until that fateful day when everything had imploded. Once the zombie outbreak began the city crumbled, taking the suburbs with it before the National Guard even had a solitary finger on the trigger. The mayor had put a bullet in his brain, the emergency services had been overrun, and within twenty four hours, everything they had built up over the last two hundred years was gone.

Looking around Jeffersontown, Jonas was pleased he had been somewhere he knew. LA had never really been home, just a stop on the way to somewhere unknown. He, Janey, and Erik had grown up in Jeffersontown, and whilst he had moved away and things had changed, many of the streets were still familiar to him. Jeffersontown was unexceptional really, just another satellite town feeding a big city. It was certainly no Babylon, and didn’t deserve what had happened to it. Jonas had moved out as soon as he could, hopeful of finding success in LA. His parents had put a lot of pressure on him to be a success, and at best, he had been nothing more than mediocre at school. There had been little interest in sports, and all the other subjects had passed him by without grabbing any real attention. They had been happy, a real family, and it was only when his mother was knocked down by cancer that things turned sour. Once she was diagnosed, she’d made it another three months, and then she was gone. In a flash, their father turned from a happy family man into a drunk, quick with his temper, and quicker still with his fists. Janey had suffered worst, and Jonas had tried to stand up for her, but it was useless. He had been too young, and his father too strong. He was clever too, only taking it out on them where the bruises wouldn’t show.