The Hand That Feeds: A Horror Novel (19 page)

“The gunfire draws them in,”
Officer Green explained.

John turned back to
find him smiling. “You son of a bitch.”

The dead moved around the back of the police car and focused in on
Officer Green. John looked down at him unapologetically. He leapt on to the road and ran, reaching the sidewalk before the screaming started. The dead climbed onto Officer Green like a swarm of ants. His blood curdling cries echoed off the cold exterior walls of the surrounding buildings.

John kept moving. The streets were dotted with the dead
, but there was plenty of open ground to move. He had the shotgun at the ready, but knew full well that he didn’t want to use it. He wanted to save his last round until there were no other options.

H
e approached Main Street and the echoes changed. The murmuring groans of the dead increased and his recollection of the street ahead told him it would be infested. He slowed his pace as he approached, keeping one eye on the mass of dead slowly trailing after him. The street was alive with movement to the east. People were running faster than the dead were. John guessed someone else had attempted to save the women trapped in the cars, but he couldn’t be sure. He thought perhaps the distraction would pull most of the dead in that direction, but as he found the location of Helen’s camper truck, his half-hearted enthusiasm lost steam. The dead lumbered all around the truck, most focused on the closed glass doors of the grocery store it was parked in front of. John could see movement inside the store as someone neared the glass, then backed away as the dead closed in and tried to enter.

To reach the truck
, he would have to cover about a hundred yards. The walking corpses coming up from the rear gave him no more time to plan. If he were going to go, he would have to do it now. John dug into his pocket and pulled out the keys. He held them tight in his palm, took one last breath and dared himself to go.

20

The sky was darkening as a billowy sheet of clouds rolled in from the south. It was late afternoon and the sky would soon be shrouded in darkness. The warmth of the day was gone, replaced by an unseasonably cold wind. The streets would be unusable once night set in and anyone caught outside would be left to running blindly for their lives.

John’
s plan was holding up. The largest mass of the dead was further up Main Street, and those closest to Helen’s camper truck were focused on the people trapped in the adjacent grocery store. His lungs burned as he pushed himself to the edge of his endurance. The distance between his starting point and the camper truck was much further than he’d guessed. He could hear the sound of the walking dead following him from the police car and the flesh sandwich that used to be Officer Green. He would soon be surrounded and if he couldn’t get to the truck, he would need a Plan B.

The
need for a backup plan came when he was within a stone’s throw of the truck. His momentum took him several feet forward, even as his mind screamed at him to turn around. He wasn’t sure what they were until they started coming toward him. They weren’t dogs anymore nor did they appear to be among the dead. The stains of blood around their mouths were a clear indicator of what they were looking for, and the bite marks along the sides of their body’s revealed the damage they’d taken.

John turned in a loose semi-
circle, stuffed the keys back in his pocket, and headed west on Main Street. The dead coming off of the road behind him were gaining ground, but at the moment, they were the least of his problems. The dogs were barking and they were closing in. He’d seen three of them walk out from behind the other side of the truck, but couldn’t be sure if there were any more.

It didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t going to be able to run away. There was movement up ahead and
he knew if he was going to save himself, he would have to do it quickly. The first thing that caught his eye was a blinking sign above a storefront along the near side of the street. He ran to the door and tried the knob, and then pounded on the door with his fist when the knob wouldn’t turn. He heard sounds from inside, but the door did not give way. The fast approaching dogs left him with a single choice.

John jumped straight up and grabbed the pole holding the
store’s namesake. He swung back and forth building momentum, but the first of the dogs reached him before he got the thrust he needed. It leapt up with its mouth open and teeth exposed. John’s swing brought him backward and the two collided as his heel caught the animal on the side of the head. The dog yelped and fell as John took one last swing, throwing his legs up on the overhang above the door.

The dogs nipped at his back as they stood under him
, jumping one after another. John struggled with his grip. His muscles were in no shape to hold his weight, stretched out between the overhang and the sign. He arched his back as he felt one of the dogs graze his shirt. His arms shook and he knew it was now or never.

There was a moment when
he thought he was going to let go, but he summoned up the remainder of his strength and pushed against the sign. He got up on his heels, arched his body, then let go of the signpost with one hand and stretched out for the drain. He balanced himself with his feet firmly planted atop the overhang and his hands planted on the signpost and the drain. He pushed off once more and grabbed the drain with both hands.

John
stood on top of the overhang looking down at the dogs. They were a terrible sight, even more so up close. Sores covered their bodies and he wondered if that was what Officer Green looked like underneath his clothes. Their barks were deep and unnatural and their breaths labored. John turned his concern on the figures moving toward him from both directions on Main Street. The dead that followed him from the police car were still headed his way and now there were a new set of figures approaching from the opposite direction. He would be stuck if he didn’t act soon. The roof of the two-story building was slanted at a steep angle. The climb would be a difficult one and John couldn’t be sure he would find safety on the other side.

He knew he couldn’t make a run for it. The dogs would catch him for sure. He’d dropped his shotgun when he jumped for the
pole and as he watched the dogs step over it on the sidewalk, he wasn’t sure if the one round left inside was worth the trouble. The dead drew nearer and in a few moments, he’d be stuck. He felt this was the end; all he could do was wait and watch. His mind flashed with visions of Angela and Alex as he looked down at the dogs growling up at him.

“Man’s best friend
, my ass.”

He watched them watching him, their bloated
purple tongues hanging out of their mouths as they gasped for breath. He hoped they might fall over dead at any moment. His wish was not granted, but as he watched, something else happened that he hadn’t considered. The dogs’ attention shifted between him and the approaching dead. It hit John as the dogs whimpered.

“You’re not dead yet,” he
said. “You’re just as afraid of them as I am.”

He
thought of Officer Green again. He was surely infected and that had caused his madness, but he was still living. Like John, Officer Green had been a target of the dead and John was beginning to understand that the dogs were no different. He called down as the dogs heads turned between him and the undead.

“What are you going to do
, Fido? They’ll be on top of you soon.”

It didn’t take long before the nervous
canines attention shifted. John readied himself, crouching down close to the top of the overhang. It was when the dead were within a car’s length away that the dogs’ fear overtook them and they sprinted off the way they’d come. John took the moment to move, jumping down to the sidewalk. He tried to roll out of the impact, but slipped and took most of the force with his shoulder.

He
grabbed the shotgun off the ground as fast as he could and jumped up on a car parked a few feet away. Mobs of the dead were close, already at the front door to the store. A sea of rotting corpses was focused on him. The way behind him offered a better chance at escape. He leapt off the trunk of the car on to the hood of a truck parked behind it. The moans of the dead echoed off the storefronts as they reached for him. There were several around the truck and more closing from all sides. He hopped up on the top of the cab then into the truck’s bed. The dead moved like starving children, arms stretched out with little sense of organization. 

John saw an opening and took it. He jumped over a
pair of waving arms and hit hard on the sidewalk, but stayed on his feet. He headed full speed into a narrow alley between two small businesses. The alley came to an abrupt end at the rear of the buildings at a wider walkway heading east and west. John had his heart set on the camper and as he started to his right, there was a small glimmer of hope that he might reach it. He jogged until the walkway ended, then leaned against the wall and peeked out.

There was a large parking lot between him and the grocery store. He could see the camper truck and thankfully
nothing else around it. Sounds of the dead trying to get into the grocery store were clear, but the street and the opposite sidewalk appeared safe. He peered back in the direction he’d come and saw several figures crowding the walkway and moving in his direction.

“They don’t give up.”

He surveyed the parking lot for a way across that would provide the most cover. There were enough cars in the lot to keep him hidden until the last fifty feet. Movement in two vehicles caught his eye, but he tried not to lose focus. There were dead inside, that was easy to see. One car contained a severely overweight woman. Her skin was purple and black, her cheeks stained with dried blood. She pawed at the front windshield trying to reach out for John, but she was incapable of opening the door from the inside. The second vehicle was a truck. A man and woman crawled over one another trying to get out. The long gashes on their faces gave a clear indication of their fate.

John made his first move
, dashing out between two cars. He crouched down near the front wheel and listened. He’d gotten so used to the sounds of the dead that he forgot it was a clear sign of their approach. He heard the echoes of those drawing near from the way he’d come, but all else was quiet.

He made two more moves
and stopped again. The muffled howls of the overweight woman banging against her door were close. She’d seen him running and was now trying to get into the back seat of her car to get closer. John tried to ignore her, but her face pressed against the driver’s side window made it difficult.

He
slid his eyes along the bumper of an old beat up VW bug and peered out at the street. He swore under his breath as a dog stepped into view on the sidewalk. It looked over the first row of parked cars, its tail wagging nervously. John waited as long as he could, and then decided to go back the way he came and work around to the rear of the parking lot. Once he reached his starting point, two very important problems became obvious. First, the dead that followed him behind the businesses were dangerously close, and second, all of the ducking and crawling had worn him out. He didn’t know if he’d have the strength to run if his plan didn’t work.

He was midway around th
e back of the lot when he heard the distinct sound of a car window breaking. He stood up far enough to see over the cars and found the noise makers almost immediately. The two lovebirds trapped inside the truck near the center of the lot had succeeded in finding an escape. Apparently, the sight of John was too much to keep them contained. The situation quickly went from bad to worse as the dog at the front of the lot started walking in toward the cars.

“What next?”

It didn’t take long for John to get his answer. He heard their moans first and knew before he looked that the shambled group of the dead who’d followed him down the walkway behind the businesses, were now at the parking lot’s edge. John held still, keeping his focus on the dog. In enough open space, he figured he could out run the dead, but recent experience told him he couldn’t say the same for man’s best friend.

John made a run for it
when he thought the dog was distracted, but the immediate barking told him he hadn’t been fast enough. He stepped out into the row between the cars and found the canine running directly at him. The speed of the animal was terrifying. It fixed on John as if he was the last meal on earth. John knew at once that he would have to make a stand. He brought his shotgun up to fire and took aim. It wasn’t until the dog was a car length away that he changed his mind.

He took a hold of the shotgun barrel and swung as the dog leapt at him. The
butt of the weapon hit the dog with such force that its neck snapped. The animal’s momentum carried it forward, but the angle was thrown off by the impact. The dog slammed into a car parked at John’s side and fell on to the pavement motionless.

“I’m guessing you won’t be motionless for long.”

John guessed the full brunt of the infection would take hold now that the dog was dead, but wasn’t going to stay around long enough to find out. The lovebirds had crawled out the broken window of the truck and gotten to their feet. The rest of the undead were working their way across the parking lot in between the cars. There was no way of knowing if the other dogs were waiting near the entrance to the grocery store, but John had little hope of getting home any other way. If he were going to see his wife and son again, it would be from the front seat of Helen’s camper truck. He adjusted his hold on the shotgun and started off. It wasn’t until he reached the front of the grocery store that the mystery of the remaining dogs became clear.

He saw them from the corner of his eye
, but didn’t need a double take to know the dogs were coming. There were more than the original three that followed him. They started barking the moment John came into view. The noise also attracted the attention of the walking dead who’d been preoccupied with the survivors stuck inside the grocery store.

To John’s
surprise, he made it around to the driver’s side door without incident, however; a problem arose when he tried to get the keys out of his pocket. He fumbled for a precious few seconds when the sound of the dogs coming around the front end of the truck forced him to move again. Once he managed to get the keys out, he was near the rear of the truck and the dogs were gaining on him. The dead were closing in on one side and the dogs were coming around the other side. 

John was forced to climb
up the ladder hanging off the back of the camper. He reached the top as the first dog rounded the rear of the truck. Apparently, their need to feed had outgrown their fear of the walking dead. John surveyed his surroundings as the dogs gathered and began leaping up at him.

The parking lot was crawling with
the dead, all headed in his direction. He figured by the time the dogs were frightened enough to run away, he’d be surrounded. He had the shotgun in one hand and the truck keys in the other, trying to come up with a plan. His concentration was broken as two of the dogs came into view in the front of the truck. They eyed him, growled, and then in unison, crouched and jumped up on to the hood. They barked as they gauged the distance between the hood and the top of the cab.