The Dark Trilogy (25 page)

He ignored the sarcasm and looked at the side door again. He studied it for a moment, and Megan saw his face shift and knew he had come to some sort of decision. He turned to her and smiled.

“
Give me five minutes and then lift the door.”

Before she could protest, he moved over to the side door and unlocked it. Megan’s jaw dropped as she watched him.

“
Is he insane?” George inquired, horror filling his voice.

She sighed. “George, that’s about the only thing I’m certain of anymore.”

After a few moments, the side door flew open and two rotters burst in, falling forward. Jeff was on them quickly, using the rifle butt to smash in the back of an old man’s head. His skin was a dusky gray, and the rifle shattered the back of his skull. He toppled over, the force of his landing driving his jaw up into his sinus cavity. All of his bodily fluids had dried up long ago, and there was no backsplash of blood or gristle as Jeff finished him off with a swift heel to the back of the head.

The other creature wrapped its hand around one of Jeff’s hiking boots. It was probably a woman, its long stringy hair still hanging in clumps from its skull. Leaves and dirt made it impossible to determine her true hair color, and weeks out in the elements had burnt most of the exposed skin to a leathery brown. He didn’t panic as she lifted her head and dragged herself toward his leg. He whipped around and slammed his other foot on top of her head, pushing it to the ground. He had not used tremendous force, fearing he would topple over with the effort. She continued to struggle, her hands trying to scratch and claw at him.

Jeff shrugged her grasping hand off of his shoe. He maintained his balance and shot a quick look over to the open door. Seeing no one else coming, he put his full weight down on the woman’s head. A snap echoed in the garage, and he stomped her again. Feeling no more movement underneath his foot, he stepped off the corpse and moved to the door. Peering out, Jeff turned and waved at Megan before moving outside and pulling the door shut behind him.

Megan glanced over at George and back at Jason. They looked as stunned as she felt at Jeff’s insane actions.

“
I guess all we can do is wait to see if he can pull this one off,” she offered weakly and shrugged. They sat and listened as the volume of the moans outside rose as Jeff let out a muffled war cry. Suddenly, the banging on the garage door lessened and they heard sounds of dragging footsteps moving away from it.

Megan listened to Jeff’s taunts that mingled with the moaning replies of the infected as he moved farther away. She turned to George.

“
Okay. Well, the maniac has gotten them away from the door, I guess. I’m going to open it so we can get the hell out of here. George? Can you cover me?” She stared at the big man and saw the nervous look on his face. Sweat was coming off of him in buckets as the rifle sat propped across his legs. His already pale complexion was practically glowing in the semi-darkness of the van’s interior. He looked over at her, swallowed hard, and nodded. Jason looked more assured than George. For an instant, she was tempted to suggest that he take the rifle but dismissed the idea quickly.

Megan tried to focus on the garage’s interior. Lifting the heavy door would only take a second or two; then she would be back in the van and safe. It would be easy.

She took a deep breath and made the sign of the cross as she pulled on the door handle and slid out of the van.

Moving backwards, she kept one eye on the side door and the two bodies on the floor. They exuded a foul stench that was potent in the enclosed space. George opened the sliding door on the van and pointed the barrel of the rifle toward the door Jeff had left. Megan turned to examine the garage door’s lock.

As she grasped the handle, there was a sound of wood shattering behind her and then a loud hissing noise. Megan jumped as a rifle blast echoed through the enclosed room. She turned to see four bodies spilling into the garage from the house. Cursing, she realized that they had forgotten all about the infected chasing Jeff across the interior of the home.

Megan fumbled for the revolver jammed in her waistband as George stepped out of the van and lined up another shot. She tugged at the gun as the second blast rang out. She was struggling with the .357’s hammer, which was snagged on her shirt.

Wrestling it free, she moved next to George. All four rotters were still closing in, and she aimed at the closest.

A puff of smoke came out of the barrel as the bullet punched a hole in its chest. A spray of black mist came out its back and drenched the next stiff in line. Though stumbling slightly, it kept moving forward. Megan saw its mouth move, but the ringing in her ears blotted out its cries of rage.

George awkwardly rammed another cartridge in place on the bolt-action rifle and fired his third shot. Megan saw a puff of dust as the bullet went wild, striking drywall two feet from any of the targets.

“
Get the bat!” she screamed as she tried to steady her hand and take aim once again.

Her next shot passed through the upper cheek of her closest enemy, which was less than ten feet in front of her. It moved a half step forward as its head rocked backwards, and then it folded up like a lawn chair as it landed on its back. The others were unfazed and continued coming. Megan took a breath and fired at the next, puckering its nasal cavity. A dangling piece of cartilage broke free from its nose as the body crumpled to the cement.

The last two were almost on top of her. Fighting rising panic and her shaking hands, she fired wide, blowing a hole in the third monster’s shoulder. Its arms were extended, reaching for her, and the fourth was beside it, ready to pull her down.

Megan could finally hear their excited moans as they got close. Eyes wide, she took aim as a clammy hand gripped her arm. She felt the dry, cold skin as the bony fingers wrapped tightly around her elbow, yanking the weapon off target.

Pulling the trigger, she felt a bolt of pain that was a combination of the recoil and the sensation of her arm being nearly yanked out of its socket. Suddenly, hands that had been reaching for Megan’s neck fell away and there was a white-hot burst of pain as she was knocked to the ground.

Tumbling sideways, she could feel the cold grip on her arm release as she was slammed to the garage floor. Doing her best to ignore the pain flaring through her shoulder, she rolled over and tried to raise the gun again.

As things came into focus, she saw George slamming the last of the infected up against the garage wall. Megan tried to take aim, but George was already charging at it like a lineman, a bellow of rage bursting free from his lips.

He connected, driving the monster into the drywall and creating a crater in it. George quickly backed up a few feet but continued bellowing taunts at the obscenity slumped before him.

Megan did not blink as she watched the madman encourage the rather rotund rotter to pull itself out of the new wall niche and stagger toward him. The first kick connected with its chest, driving it back into the hole. The second sent it to the ground, where George unleashed a flurry of blows to its head while it tried to grab at him. It obsessively scratched and pawed at the man looming above it until Megan heard a distinctive pop and saw its arms convulse and flop to the ground. George stomped on its head a few more times for good measure.

The battle over, he leaned against the wall above his handiwork, panting heavily. Megan let the hand holding the gun drop to her lap as she took a deep breath herself. The other stiff, the one George had pulled off of her, lay nearby, its neck bent awkwardly where it had been brutally snapped.

A moment later, her guardian loomed over Megan, his arm extended. He no longer looked frightened, as he did when he was wielding the rifle. His jaw was set, and she could see the determined look in his eyes.

“
Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Megan nodded and took his hand. George pulled her up like she weighed nothing. She looked into the van and saw Jason in the doorway, staring out at them. The rifle George had discarded was in his hands, and his eyes held a tinge of fear.

Megan gave him a wink, and Jason responded with a nervous smile. She stuffed the revolver into her pants and moved toward the garage door. George stood watch, tensed for more action as he peered through the shattered doorway leading into the house.

She pressed her ear to the wood and listened. There was a great deal of moaning, but none from nearby as far as she could tell. Jeff was still keeping the infected at bay. As Megan leaned down to pull the heavy door up by its handle, she was certain that sooner or later one of his crazy stunts was going to end up getting him killed.

“
If he isn’t dead already,” she mumbled under her breath.

***

Jeff spotted the van after it pulled out of the garage. Megan spun the wheel in a one-eighty so it faced the road and caught sight of him as he waved her forward. The infected were all over the yard, most falling all over one another in an effort to close on him as he pranced around and taunted them. He had taken the occasional pot shot with the rifle, but the yard was a wide expanse and had given him plenty of room to maneuver and avoid the threatening embrace of the infected.

Megan drove in his direction, knocking aside a few stiff bodies attracted by the growling engine. As she drew closer, Jeff waved again, relief painted on his face.

The van skidded to a halt on the grass, and the sliding door opened. Jeff ran for it, and George’s beefy arm shot out, grabbed hold of his shirt and yanked him in. Megan floored it, and they shot down the gravel drive, spraying rocks and dust behind them.

Jeff let out a cheer and pumped his fist as George glared at him. “Woo hoo! We made it!”

“
You’re fucking nuts! Do you know that?” George said as he shook his head.

Jeff let out a wild, breathless laugh. His face was red with exhaustion, but he felt invigorated.

“
Yep, but I’m still alive,” he said as he slapped George on the back. “We’re all still alive!”

George just gave him another sour look as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Megan pulled them out onto the road, and her eyes widened as she saw how many ghouls were stomping through the cornfields, moving toward the house. Jeff slid into the passenger seat beside her, the grin still on his face. When he looked up and saw the crowd of stiffened bodies, his smile faltered.

“
This is never going to end, is it?” she asked quietly.

Jeff stared at a boy in a pair of overalls hobbling toward the van, his stiff legs betraying him as the vehicle passed. As he tumbled to the ground, he raised his arm again, still reaching for them.

Jeff had no answer for Megan. His smile faded as he let his head touch the window. He didn’t say a word as the endless rows of corn flew by.

Chapter 23

Megan drove slowly, staring out at the flat expanse ahead. The debate over where to go had been short, and she had been in the minority. Manchester was the logical place for them to look for other survivors and a car for George. Even after having lived through Milfield and Gallatin, Jeff was the biggest proponent of checking out the town.

As she glanced off into the distance, she saw the occasional stiff body moving in their direction but none close to the road. Many of the buildings and houses looked normal. It took a discerning eye to see the occasional broken window, door hanging ajar, or splash of blood on a sidewalk that broke up the monotony.

As they rolled on, there were no abrupt changes to the landscape, but it was clear they were getting close to Manchester. The houses, previously spread out, were starting to bunch up again. The telephone poles, always a constant alongside the road, were becoming more prolific.

A speed limit sign told them they needed to slow down to forty-five. It was an indication that they were getting close to the town. Beyond the sign were several abandoned vehicles that had been tossed around like matchbox cars. None was in good shape, and many were turned on their sides or flipped entirely.

Up ahead, the road curved out of sight. Before that, it narrowed slightly where a train bridge ran across it. A bright yellow sign hung on the overpass indicating the maximum height at which a vehicle could safely pass underneath. The cheery note stood out against a drab brown backdrop of rusted metal. Megan stared at the opening apprehensively as they moved closer.

No vehicles blocked their passage, but there was a pickup truck that had slammed into the guard rail. The back of the Tundra still peeked out of the ditch on the right side of the road.

“
Here we go. Manchester straight ahead,” Jeff announced.

George was behind Megan, and she could almost feel his breath on her neck as he gawked at the damaged vehicles. She heard a grunt of frustration as he saw that none was in driving condition.

As they emerged from beneath the bridge, nothing in the scenery changed. The van glided around a curve in the road that moved them southeast. Four sets of eyes scanning the immediate area for signs of activity saw none. There was no indication of military presence: no barricades, no razor wire, and no corpses.

The road continued to serpentine, now to the north as they moved closer to Manchester. To the left, they saw a plain, squared-off cinderblock building that looked like a bomb had gone off in it. A gaping hole on its front allowed them to see that the inside looked as bad as the exterior. There was a ragged stump of a lamppost in the parking lot. The metal shaft had snapped in several places and was spread across the roadway. The cement base was still intact, and the metal shards sprouting out of it vomited corroded wires. Only the free-standing awning over four gas pumps and a darkened outline of the letters M-A-R-T on the side of the structure gave any hint as to what purpose the building had once served.