The Undead World (Book 1): The Apocalypse (31 page)

“
Eh, you know what you did wrong,” Neil said. “Now you're just looking for attention.”

“
I can't win with you two can I?” Sadie replied though she smiled as she did. She tried to belch again, but it was a tiny thing that only made her laugh. “I vote Neil cooks every morning.”

Sarah shook her head at this.
“My father always insisted that if he went out hunting, then mother would have to do the cooking. I think it's a good rule. Have you ever hunted before, Neil?”

This brought a snort from Sadie.
“Yeah, right. He's from Jersey. Men there don't hunt. I mean really, anyone who says pish posh probably cried when he had to kill poor thumper here.”

Neil
's eyes stole to Sarah before he admitted, “I didn't cry, but gutting it wasn't exactly fun. Now, Sadie, since you seem to be energized enough to run your mouth so much you can help me lug this stuff down to the boat.”

Every day before sundown, when the zombies really seemed to go active, they did their level best to camouflage the boat on the off chance
that someone would come by and notice what a treasure it was. The night before they had pulled it far up a muddy little tributary and now they freaked when they saw it was gone.

“
It was right here,” Neil said pointing. “See the weeds, how short they are? I pulled them up, remember?”

Sarah remembered. She could even see their footprints on the bank where they had gone up.
“Do you think it was the army?” It was her greatest fear to be found by the colonel's men. It was even greater than her fear of the zombies, because the zombies would only eat her—the colonel would have her degrade herself first, would turn her into something less than a person and when he had used her, then he would set her out to die.

Sadie who had loped
off downstream, came back breathing easily. “It floated away. I can see it further that on. We should get an anchor don’t you think? Come on! Last one there has to sit by Neil.” She took off in sprint that was slowed by her giggling. Despite that the adults were separated at night, Sadie made sure they kept close all day long.

Thankfully the propellers of the boat had got caught up in the submerged roots of a naked willow or they would
've lost the boat for sure. After a bit of tugging they got the boat loose and set out for St Louis thinking it would be bad, but not understanding the true nature that awaited them.

Like a few other unfortunate places in the world, St Louis sat in a convergence zone where waves of undead migrated to from all parts of the country, only to rebound once they got there. Generally they headed back the way they came, however some were more determined to get to where they were going and tried hard to cross the Mississippi from one direction or another.

Very few made it—the rest turned the mighty river into a death trap. Unaware of this, Neil piloted the boat, moving at a good clip until the Illinois met the Mississippi and then he only slowed out of fear of attracting unwanted attention from the many stiffs walking the banks of the river on both sides.

These numbers grew as they approached the first of
the suburbs north of the city and the three hunkered down low in the boat, hoping not to draw attention to themselves and to remain unobserved. This hope went out the window as they drew closer and closer to the center of the city.

They passed under bridges where it began to rain zombi
es and then when Neil kicked the boat faster, the beasts on the banks waded out into the wide river to get at them. Still the three were only unnerved and not yet afraid, because the zombies were dreadful swimmers. It wasn't until they began to knock into floating corpses ahead that they really knew fear.

The river was clogged with them.

“We have to fend them off or they'll get caught up in the props,” Neil said in a whisper. “Sarah you steer.” He and Sadie went to the narrow front and started the grizzly job of pushing the bodies away. Nothing could be more disgusting than touching the bloated corpses, even with a paddle…except, perhaps touching a bloated zombie corpse.

Sadie
yelped and jumped back, nearly falling into the water. “It took my paddle! They're alive.” The things in the water were slow and ponderous, but still very much alive in their vile ways and in moments they were clawing at the hull of the boat. “We're going to sink!” the girl cried in a panic. “We have to turn back.”

Sarah was thinking the same thing, only behind
them the river congealed with the bodies, some coming up from the black depths, covered in sticks and mud. “I don't think we can.”

“
Turn the boat! Turn the boat!” cried Sadie, retreating to the center of the tiny vessel and drawing her hands in from the sides as if that would save her.

“
Don't do it…” began Neil, but Sarah was already throttling up the engine and turning the boat sideways to the current. It was a mistake. The boat yawed to port and the zombies on that side gained more of a purchase and now the tipping became pronounced—allowing even more of the grey hands to grab a hold of the edge of the little fishing boat.

Sadie screamed and Sarah froze not knowing what to do as Mississippi water poured into
the boat. They were going to capsize.

Neil jumped to his feet and leapt to the high side of the boat where his weight was just enough to keep it from flipping. In his hand was the M16 with its pathetic five bullets—he used four of them to clear the stiffs fighting their way on board. With their weight removed the boat plunged back down.

As most small men were, he was nimble and danced among the baggage without falling in. “Downstream! Point us that way,” he ordered. “Sadie, use the hatchet.”

In the front, Neil used the axe, hacking at the hands that gripped the grey metal, while the girl in the middle wacked here and there, taking off fingers which began to litter the inside of the boat. Sarah turned the boat sharply feeling bodies bump along beneath, making her want to puke.

“Is it clear in front?” she asked, desperate to gun the engine and run free of the horrible city.

“
There's a channel,” Neil said pointing to the left. “There's less of em'.”

She could see what he was talking about, a long narrow channel where the water was clear of the bodies and strangely lighter in color as well.
She opened up the throttle as far as it would go and the boat sped forward. Too late, Neil cried, “Turn!”

Sarah saw it as well, there was a capsized boat just beneath the surface. It was a barge of some sort and the little fishing boat ran up on it with a jolt, a scream of metal and a hard clang beneath her hand. Their momentum added to that of the barge and the pair of boats begun to swing sideways and once again the zombies came at them, clawing their way onto the barge where it was more stable.

“Get us off!” Neil ordered in a high voice.

Sarah tried. She stoked the gas and though it made more noise
and kicked out plumes of grey-blue smoke it didn't do anything more. “There's something wrong with the engine. I don't know what.”

“
Dang it!” Neil cried in desperation as he jumped out of the boat and onto the barge where the zombies were scrambling to get at them. Almost immediately the boat tipped upwards in front. “Sadie get to the back with Sarah…please,” he begged. The beasts, though slipping and falling with every other step were getting closer. When she did the boat tipped even more and Neil, using all of his puny strength was just able to push it off the barge and leap back aboard at the same time.

“
Are we alright?” Neil asked, shaking like a leaf and grabbing his axe again with white knuckles.

“
We're not alright,” Sarah said in a whisper, staring down into water. “The propeller is gone.”

The engine was now useless, except to draw the creatures to them and so she cut it and they drifted among the bodies. The sudden silence seemed to confuse the zombies.

“What are we going to…” Sadie began, but both Neil and Sarah shushed her. He put his finger to his lips and then motioned them to get low in the boat, just as another grey hand reached over the metal edge. He found a knife and pried the hand away, trying to be as quiet as possible about it…and then they drifted down river in a fearful silence that was broken only by the beasts bumping into the boat or trying to climb aboard and each time Neil pried away the fingers or sawed at them with the sharp blade.

They laid in the boat and as long as they didn
't move or say a word the zombies forgot they were there and so they drifted among the corpses and the water moaned in a dreadful way and each wore an expression of fear. After a few hours of this the rain came, drenching them until Neil covered the women with layers of blankets and the two cuddled together for warmth while he sat without heat. Their hope was that the river would open up and the zombies would grow fewer on the banks and in the water, so that they would be able to get ashore somewhere.

Instead
things only grew worse. The zombies grew so thick that their pace slowed and although they went past St Louis they were still stuck in the middle of the wide river. Eventually they came to a bridge that had collapsed and the river beneath was clogged with sunken barges and overturned day yachts and frothed with the bodies of thousands of zombies. The little fishing boat bounced off of something beneath them and spun sideways, coming up against a long white bay liner, whose captain was grey and putrefying and hungry.

T
he creature launched itself at Neil and he shot it with his last bullet and then he hacked with the axe as more zombies appeared on the pile of stranded boats and now there was no more hiding. Sadie sprung up with her hatchet and fought like a demon, while Sarah grabbed the M16.

Turning it around she clubbed first one, then
another and was able to get a fix on their situation—they were buying themselves seconds only. Not only were they surrounded by dozens of zombies, the zombies themselves were surrounded by hundreds more.

“So much for all your promises,” Cassie said, barging into the dentist's personal office the next morning. “Gotta take a dump. I'd leave if I was you since there ain't no runnin water.” The dentist's bathroom was right there and she breezed into it as if she hadn't been the least bit offensive.

Julia sighed and placed a hand across her face.
“Damn.”

“
I'm happy to see that you lived, Ram. Me too Julia
,” Ram remarked in falsetto. He tried to get up, only his right knee was swollen and wouldn't bear his weight. “I think I messed my knee up pretty bad. How's your leg?”

“
Fine, I'm sure. And yes I'm glad we both lived. It's just…” She nodded to the bathroom door. “We did make a promise.”

“
I was under duress when I made the promise,” Ram replied. “It wouldn't stand up in court. Now let's see that wound.”

She peeled back the dressing and took a close look, saying,
“It was only a flesh wound, nothing serious. Though I should change the bandage everyday and it would be smart to take an antibiotic as a precautionary measure.”

Despite her words about it just being a flesh wound, she hobbled about, collecting her supplies in a cardboard box. Ram worked his knee back and forth. When it felt warmed up enough he tried
his weight again and swore like a sailor as he stood.

“
Are you going to help with the supplies?” he asked Cassie as she left the bathroom.

“
I am. Look, toilet paper. This stuff is gold, baby. Let me have the keys.” She held out a hand and he shook his head. “Come on. What am I going to do? Drive off with all the toilet paper? Fine. Julia, let me have that box. Ram thinks I should be helping the woman who went behind my back.”

“
It was my fault,” Ram said, quickly.

“
I don't want to hear it,” Cassie said holding up the flat of her hand to his face. “You two wanna team up and leave me out in the cold. Fine. Just know that I can break promises too.”

“
Yeah?” Ram asked. “What promises have you ever made?”

“
Here's some: I promise to always be here for you. I promise to have your back. I promise I won't run off with the first pretty face that comes along. I could go on, but what does it matter? You two knew how I felt but you didn't care.”

“
I'm sorry,” Julia said. “I was…uh, I was weak and scared. I shouldn't have let him.”

Ram shook his head at this.
“A minute ago I wasn't sorry in the least, but now I am. Julia, stop trying to act like you aren't a part of this…this us. You are. We both know you could have stopped me last night at any point, and we both know that you didn't want me to stop. You wanted me right where I was. So why the act? Are you having morning regret?”

“
I just don't want to hurt anyone,” she said.

“
You're hurting me,” Ram replied, his face stony.

Cassie rolled her eyes.
“Whatever. Give me the fuckin keys while she strings you along.”

“
Put the stuff by the car,” Ram said without looking her way. “And don't forget a gun. We don't know what's out there.” When she left, he and Julia stared at each other until she dropped her eyes. “Really, are you regretting sleeping with me?” he asked.

“
Sort of,” she answered, looking at the floor. “I dream of my husband every night, now. I made so many mistakes with him and now that he's dead I realize I should've done more…done something different to make him stay. And then I wake up and I see you and I'm so afraid of driving you away just like I did him and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to feel. I regret it and I don't. And then there's Cassie. She's looking for a reason to trust us and we keep throwing it in her face.”

“
I can't worry about Cassie,” Ram said. “And if I had known about how you were feeling about your husband, I would have let you be. That's a far better reason to take things slow. That being said, I want you to know I will take it slow, but I'm not giving up. You have to see it as well as I do that we have a connection between us, something that time and distance and zombies couldn't stop.”

“
I see it,” she replied, moving close and touching his chest with the flat of her hand. “I see there is a future for us. We just have to deal with the now, with Cassie. And with my past, my husband. Inside of me is this great guilt and fear, but I also feel you. Let's get around more people. Let's go the CDC and find other survivors and see what happens.”

They had seen exactly three people on their trip, and none had been the least bit accommodating. Two had scurried away into hiding, while the third had aimed a rifle at the passing Bronco. There were far more unseen people. They had come across a number of smoldering fire pits and even more numerous were messages left to loved ones
spray-painted on houses or barns. These were usually accompanied by a date, and some of these had been only days old when they were read by Ram.

Julia
's plan to take their personal relationship slow seemed a good one but somehow it crossed over into their travels as well. They departed the vastness of the American west and their pace was slower than they had expected. A journey to the CDC would have taken only a day of hard driving before the zombies, now as they avoided cities and hunted for gas and water the trip was much longer. That first day out of Amarillo they made it just beyond Tulsa, after following a circuitous path.

They had thought to avoid Oklahoma City by cutting south, but ended up running smack into a legion of zombies that dotted the plain like herds of buffalo. They high-tailed it back and went around the city northward and then was forced north again to bypass
Tulsa.

The next day they crossed over into Missouri and from then on water wasn
't a problem and gas was more plentiful, however the zombies were thick as flies and the armed town of Mountain Grove, a most inhospitable group of suspicious people had them again detouring north, so it was that tired and a bit cranky they came upon the last barrier to the east, the Mississippi River in the late afternoon.

“
How the fuck are we going to cross that?” Cassie asked. The black water was a thousand feet wide at its narrowest. Cassie had tried to be surly after Amarillo, only it seemed to take a lot of effort on her part and she gave it up on her own after a few hours—something Julia had foreseen. Not that she was any more pleasant to be around, but she wasn't worse.

“
I'm sure there are bridges,” Julia answered.

A person would think so, however Ram went south on the western bank for miles and though he saw plenty of signs for ferry crossings it was an hour of slow driving before he saw a sign for a bridge, and then when he came up to it he saw that it had been demolished. A part of the span had fallen into the river and there was
a great clogging of boats and debris beneath what was left—and not to mention zombies.

Even a quarter mile away he could see them swarming. He made to turn around, but the road was narrow with abandoned cars and so he went closer, hoping to find a good spot.

“There are people down there,” Julia said. She pointed beneath the bridge where the debris had melded into a shifting island of sorts.

“
They is good as dead,” Cassie put in, her face looking a little disgusted. “I don't want to watch that.”

A single shot split the air and Ram had hope that if more were to come the people would be able to fight their way to freedom, however that one shot was all that came and now he could see the three people fighting with strange weapons.

“What are you doing?” Julia asked. At first he didn't know what she meant, but then he realized he had floored the Bronco and was speeding to the near end of the bridge.

He hadn
't given it any thought, but the answer didn't seem to require any. “We're going to help. I'll work the SAW. Julia, you keep the stiffs off of me and Cassie keep me supplied with ammo.”

“
Why do I have to…” Cassie started, but he spoke over her.

“
Because Sarah's a better shot and because she's hurt and can’t run back and forth. Now get me the gun,” he said this slamming on the brakes and literally hopping out of the car. His knee still bothered him and a one-legged hop was his quickest mode of ambulation. “Hurry!” he ordered. The three were only still alive because the makeshift island was not easy for the zombies to cross, however more were coming up out of the water right at their feet.

Cassie came huffing up with the SAW in one hand and the first ammo can in the other.
“Thanks. I'll need two more.” In the time it took him to say that he had laid bare the feed tray, slapped down the links, thinking to himself:
Brass to the grass
as he he'd been trained and then smacked down the cover.

In a second, tracer rounds, like zipping glow bugs showed
him exactly where to fire.