Die Trying: A Zombie Apocalypse (7 page)

Nothing.

In hindsight, I was probably doing all the things that would have given any medical man worth his salt convulsions of alarm, but I simply didn’t know what else to do. From my rudimentary inspection, the girl seemed to have no obvious broken bones – and that was a good thing.

I felt the back of her neck, and then ran my fingers lightly across her forehead and temple. I could feel no bumps, and sensed no bleeding. I
slid the heavy bracelet up her arm a little and checked the pulse at her wrist. It was still erratic – and then I heard a gunshot.

My head snapped round and I stared out through the opening of the cabin. The man and
Harrigan were standing in the way so I couldn’t see much past their big frames. I sensed the line of undead was gathering itself like a mighty wave that curls over bathers at the instant before it breaks, and pounds them under the crushing impact.

I turned back – and got the shock of my life. The girl’s eyes were open and she was staring at me. Staring at me like I was some fascinating specimen at a zoo. Her eyes were enormous dark, dazed pools, set against the drawn pale complexion of her face. Her lips moved – she opened her mouth and exhaled a ragged uncertain breath.

“Who are you?” she asked. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, inflected with neither fear or alarm – merely idle curiosity, as though she had just woken from a deep sleep and enquired about the weather.

“I’m Mitch,” I said gently. “I’m here to help you.”

I sensed the doorway behind me darkening, and I glanced over my shoulder. The man was standing there, blocking out the fiery glow of the night, his suit already soaked and clinging to the silhouette of his muscled frame.

“Millie’s my daughter,” the man said – and again I noticed how unnaturally loud his voice was, and how pointed his tone. I wondered absently if he had suffered damage to his hearing in the crash and that perhaps the sounds around him were somehow muted so that he felt forced to speak so loudly – like someone singing with headphones always sings louder than they realize. But I had no time then to ponder the problem. I leaned over the girl and gently wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “We have to get you out of here,” I said, and then, like a fool, I added, “there are undead zombies close by, and there is a fuel leak. The helicopter might explode at any moment.”

I regretted my words instantly. The girl went from dazed and relaxed and compliant, to near hysterical with fear. She threw herself at me, flailing arms and hands and knees in a desperate attempt to get out of the helicopter. I tried to help, but the girl was suddenly near-crazed. I backed out of the helicopter and the girl came at me like a caged lion.

No broken bones – that was for sure.

We stood in a tight knot beside the helicopter. The man went to the girl and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him – not overcome with affection, but rather like someone who takes shelter behind a large boulder. It was instinctive. Then I saw the man snap to full alertness. “My gun!” he said.

I stared at him. “Where is it?”

He was padding down his pockets, becoming frantic. Maybe he was from the military, or maybe ex-military. For guys who have served, I guessed their weapon was an extension of their body. “It must still be in the helicopter,” he said – and scrambled head-first back through the dark opening.

I turned back to the line of undead. I saw Jed now. He was
inside
the broken cockpit of the helicopter, firing through the shattered Plexiglas. He was concealed behind the dead body of the pilot, aiming carefully at the dark looming shapes of death.

I heard the roar of his
Glock, tearing through the hissing sound of the rain, and then snapped my eyes to the line of undead. I saw one of them suddenly double over and clutch at its stomach. It was a woman – I think. The figure had long straggly hair and was thinly built. It was about fifteen yards away. It froze for a split-second, and then slowly toppled backwards into the grass. I heard Jed give a ragged cheer. “I got one!” – then the sound was cut off by another rumble of thunder that boomed overhead.

And then a remarkable thing happened. The line of undead stopped. Froze. They were close enough to see physical details now – close enough to hear the sound of them shambling towards us in the long grass as the noise of the rain ebbed and flowed. I sensed the hunched, prowling way they held themselves, like mad dogs that drop their heads and bunch their shoulders when on the scent of prey.

For a second nothing at all happened. I saw undead heads turn towards the place in the line where the woman ghoul had fallen. Then I saw the attitude of the others seem to change. I heard one of the ghouls growl – and it was a chilling, terrible sound, quickly imitated by others. The cry went up – and then the zombies nearest the woman lunged towards the place where she had fallen. They were snarling and roaring – gnashing teeth and clawing. I saw one of the undead rise up, and he had a forearm in his bloodied hands, gnawing at it with rabid madness.

I heard fabric tearing, and then the horrific sound of bones cracking and flesh ripping. Another of the ghouls reeled away into the darkness and his hands were full and heavy with dripping bloodied organs that slithered in his fingers like tentacles.

I heard Clinton Harrigan’s voice behind me, and his words were numbed and slowed by incredulous horror.

“
Holy Mary, mother of God…”

And then a louder, more urgent voice that could only be my brother’s, shouting the words that my brain was shouting at the same instant.

“Run! Now!”

I didn’t turn away from the horror. The ghouls were in
a frenzy, dismembering the corpse in the grass. I saw only hunched shoulders and flailing arms beating the grass into maddened swishing tails, but I could imagine the gory detail. Snap-shot images of the slaughter-yard scene in the backyard came back to haunt me.

Jed fired again.
And again.

I drew the
Glock from my jeans and fired into the dark mass of bodies. I don’t know if I hit anything – I just fired. Then I fired again. I heard a sudden new sound – the sound of different gunfire, the noise of it slamming in my ears – and without turning I guessed the man had recovered his weapon from where it had fallen.

I sensed that Jed’s words had culminated into panicked action
behind me. I heard heavy footsteps, pounding in the sloshing mud, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I was alone. Harrigan, the man and the girl had disappeared round behind the darkened, shadowed shelter of the broken helicopter. I wanted to run after them. Cowardice and regret compounded. I wasn’t made of the right stuff for a heroic last stand. I wanted to run too.

I fired twice more. The gun leaped in my hand and I saw one of the dark savage shapes roll away from the milling gnashing pack.

“Jed?”

I knew he was still nearby. I had heard one of his shots rip the night apart, just a moment after I had fired. His voice came back to me, clear and close.

“Yeah?”

“It’s time to go,” I said. “Where are the others?”

There was a pause, and in that moment of silence I shuffled backwards until I felt the frame of the helicopter press against my legs.

“They’re going back over the fence,” I heard Jed say. He was moving as he spoke, coming closer. Then I saw him round the nose of the helicopter and stride towards me. The ground was a quagmire of rutted muddy troughs from where the helicopter’s
crash landing had torn the earth to pieces.

Other undead shapes were filling the skyline, sweeping down from the hillside streets and coming across the field. And I saw more dark movement to our left – just flickering shadows that might have been wind-tossed branches – but might also have been
more undead hunting their way towards us from surrounding houses. I’d had enough. My nerves were frayed.

“Let’s get out of here,” I
said urgently. “It’s time for a cowardly retreat. We’ve done enough. Time to save our asses.”

I glanced at Jed. The bastard was smiling – not because I was funny, but because he was enjoying himself. I could see it in the glint of his eyes. There was a macabre sense of joy for him in
shooting and killing, and I had to grab his arm and push him away into the darkness, even as he continued to fire.

We slipped back into the dark cover of the shadows and I ran like the hounds o
f Hell were on my heels. In fact, they probably were. Once the undead body Jed had shot had been torn to pieces, they would want more prey. They seemed possessed by some insane killing frenzy and blood-lust that had shocked and appalled me. I didn’t want to be the next victim.

I heard Jed at my shoulder, his long legs taking big splashing strides. We hit the fence at a run, and he went over like a pole-vaulter, while I slammed into the palings and clambered with frantic, frenzied fingers until I could heave myself over and drop down into the relative safety of the darkened back yard.

Out of the frying pan…

I dropped down into the darkness, remembering the dismembered bodies, and the images of slaughter that I had seen just minutes earlier. I called out to Jed in a strained whisper and waited in the eerie heavy silence for a reply.

“I’m right here,” Jed answered from very close by. His voice was gravel-like. “Next to you.”

I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t see him. “What are you doing?”

Another long pause, and when he answered, his tone was somehow obscene.

“I’m watching them.”

“What?”

“I’m watching them,” he said with fascination. “They’re at the helicopter.”

“Are… are they coming this way?”

“They’re coming from everywhere.”

“This way?” I felt my strained nerves rise again in alarm.

“
No.” He might have shaken his head. I couldn’t tell.

“What are they doing?”

“The pilot,” Jed said in awe. “They’re tearing the body to pieces. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I didn’t know what to say – so I said nothing. I crouched there, against the fence
, and after another moment I felt Jed crouch down beside me so I could feel his knee against mine. He was breathing hard.

I figured
Harrigan would have taken the man and the girl no further than the corner of the house. That meant weaving our way through the tangle of dismembered bodies. For no good reason I glanced up at the sky. It was still raining, and the night was blanketed by the dark scudding shape of clouds being shredded by the wind. I caught a brief glimpse of the moon and then it was swallowed once more by the night.

I dug the lighter from my pocket and hunched down low against the fence. I cupped my hand close
, and the lighter flamed into a tiny golden glow. Jed’s face looked dark and haunted, his eyes sunken shadows against the swollen shape of his cheek and the peak of his nose. His expression was grim.

“Keep your hand on my shoulder. I’ll lead you,” I said. “We’re making for the corner of the house where you and
Harrigan got left. That’s where I think the others will be waiting.”

Jed nodded. The flicker of light didn’t last – nor did I expect it to. As soon as we stood, the wind extinguished the little flame. But it had burned long enough, and I hoped that
Harrigan was waiting at the edge of the house. If he were, he would have seen the flame. He would know we were coming towards him.

I went with all the hasty caution I could muster – shuffling my feet like a blind man in a minefield, and going as quickly as I dared. Twice I felt my toe scuff against something soft and unnatural – and each time I veered a few paces to the side to avoid whatever lay there.

It seemed to take forever – but it was maybe a minute or two, before we saw the heavy dark shadow of the side of the house – a shade darker than the night itself. I heard Harrigan clear his throat, and went towards the sound.

He was there. They all were – crouched on the narrow pathway that we had taken from the road.
I dropped to my knees and we all huddled for a moment without saying anything – but merely feeling the strength and comfort that comes from not being alone – not being isolated.

Finally I heard the man
’s voice. He was whispering, and there was a strained edge in his tone. I sensed he was somewhere close to my left, and I figured his daughter would be beside him.

“No noise from now on,” he said, sounding like he knew what he was talking about. “They hear everything,” he said.
Harrigan took a deep breath and held it. I think I did too. “Is anyone injured?”

No one said anything.

“Good,” the man said. “They’re attracted to blood.”

“Are you sure?” It was Jed’s voice, curious, not concerned.

“I’m sure,” the man said – and once again I sensed he was speaking from some knowledge or experience.

“Okay,” I muttered, feeling instantly self-conscious for speaking after we had just agreed to make no noise – but this had to be said. “We’re not going back to the house – there’s no point. And we can’t stay here, in this house. It’s too damned close, and the yard is full of dead bodies, so God knows what it’s like inside.”