Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (15 page)

              Steve didn’t even swerve as the third zombie bounced off the hood while they drove in silence back toward the city.  Wes barley even flinched when the side view mirror was ripped off when Steve whipped around an abandon bloody car, clipping a mailbox.  Wes tried to call Beth again and again he was met with nothing but annoyance.  

“No luck?”  Steve asked frowning as he took a sharp right to avoid several crashed burning cars.

Wes barely looked up as the car veered around the corner.  He just shook his head, “still saying all the circuits are busy.  Not sure how that is possible.”  Wes followed the sight of several zombies standing over a decapitated corpse, “Looks like most people are too dead to make calls.” 

As if to further emphasize Wes’ point Steve turned the car around a corner and came to a quick stop.  A crowd of zombies filled the road right in front of them.  

“Better find an alternate route.”  Steve growled. 

Wes pointed to the left. “That way, I think I saw a truck.”

Steve quickly threw the car in reverse; he turned the wheel and headed in the direction Wes noted.  The road was clear of debris and zombies.  It was only a few seconds until they saw a red SUV speeding in the direction of the Ball Park. 

“Clear the way brother.”  Steve shouted to the car in front of them.

For the next four blocks the SUV did just that.  It smashed through rubble and zombies alike.  Steve kept as close as he dared.  Wes held tight to his seatbelt.  “Hang back a bit will ya?  Just in case, ya know the driver gets in trouble.  We don’t need our plow to end up as our trap.” 

About halfway along the fifth block and still too many from the evacuation point the other driver made the mistake Wes feared.  The SUV had been increasing speed the longer they followed it.  Steve had just commented that the driver must have been standing on the accelerator as the speedometer register seventy.  Wes shouted a warning when the SUV smashed into an abandon car that came rolling out of an alley.  The SUV hit it dead center.  The rear of the SUV flew into the air when the truck came to an instant stop.

Steve hit the brakes, stopping several feet behind the crashed truck.  Wes and Steve looked at each other then back at the crashed car.  “Do you think they are dead?”  Steve asked.

  Wes gave a shrug, Steve let out the clutch allowing his car to cautiously approached the wreck.  Steve stopped, slipped the car into neutral and pulled the emergency break.  He reached over the seat and grabbed his rifle.  Wes checked the camber of his gun gave, Steve a nod and opened his door. 

Slowly they approached the crumpled truck.  Steam issued from under the hood. Steve took the driver’s side Wes took the passenger’s.  Keeping his gun ready Wes looked in the backseat and saw a pack.  He noticed the hilt of a gun sticking out of it and a rifle barrel against the seat. 

He approached the front door and jumped back.  A woman was staring at him.  Her mouth was moving with her teeth scraping the window, like she was trying to bite him.  He stared back for a moment.  He knew she was dead but couldn’t stop staring.  Looking at her he realized she had only been dead a very short time
.  It must have been the crash that killed her
, he thought.  Looking closer he observed her head was at an impossible angle, her neck must have been broken.  The zombie just bit at the window, glaring and chomping at him.  Wes gave her the finger and opened the back door to grab the pack.   Throwing it over his shoulder he grabbed for the rifle, it was stuck.  Wes was trying to free the weapon when Steve tapped on the window.  Wes waved him off. 

Approaching the driver’s door cautiously Steve looked in.  The seat appeared empty.  He looked in properly and that is when he saw him, half of him.  Moving forward he looked at the front of the truck.  Sticking halfway out of the windshield was a man in his mid-forties.  His graying hair caked with blood and broken glass. 

Steve shook his head.  “Sorry…I wish you could have made, WHOA!”

Jumping back Steve raised his rifle.  The man twisted to look at him, his arm flopped uselessly next to him as he tried to turn and grab at Steve.

“They’re toast!”  Steve yelled.  “Come on let’s get to the Point!” 

Wes was still struggling with the rifle when Steve ran around the truck to see what was keeping him.  The zombie in the front seat growled and moaned.

              “Forget it!  Let’s go” Steve yelled to the younger man.

              Wes gave a mighty tug, freed the rifle and ran back to the beat up mustang with Steve.  “Thanks for your help.  Wish you didn’t die.”  Wes muttered to the back of the crashed truck. 

Steve backed up and took a side street, then turned back along another road toward the ballpark.   The silence in the car was deafening. 

“You alright?”  Steve asked.

Wes merely nodded. Steve turned back to the road and swore.  A small orange tiger cat darted out in front of the car.  Steve pulled the wheel, Wes let out a yelp of fright.  The car went into a skid.  Steve fought to regain control.  The tires screamed.  Wes was thrown back against the seat as the seat belt grabbed hold.  The car jumped the curb, slamming into a pole.  

Wes’ flailed; his head flew forward while his body was tight to the seat.  In the impact his glasses had flown off onto the floor.  His vision blurred he tried to reach them but was held fast by the seatbelt.  Next to him Steve was fighting to deflate the airbag.  “Bam!”  Wes’ inflated.  “Oh that was helpful!”  Wes growled coughing on the powder released by the deployment.   

Steve finally got the airbag down.  Wes found his glasses.  Turning the key the engine protested.  Trying again the Mustang whined and sputtered but refused to turn over.  The last few hours of abuse had been too much.  The car refused to start. 

“Grab your gear we’re on foot now.”  Steve said while turning to grab a pack.  Wes turned and grabbed the other one.  The air was thick with the smell of smoke and death. Wes had his gun out scanning the street for trouble.  Steve held both rifles, he tossed one to Wes.  “Come on this way.”  He yelled.

Tamera Allen had been working for six days straight.  She was practically living at the station, having slept there for the last two nights.  She was the newest member of the news team and the youngest.  She was determined to prove herself to the other reporters and management. So she could move out of this town as soon as possible.  She had it all planned out, Harrisburg in two years and Pittsburgh in five. 

Mike Hillman was a twenty year veteran of the station.  He had seen pretty much everything from steel mill strikes to horrible accidents.  He was as jaded as they came.   His cynicism and apathy bothered Tamera.  Today was no different.  Mike was his usual grumpy self as they bumped and jostled down the road in the old Ford van that was converted to a Live truck.  Their assignment for the day was the Hospital. 

              The closer they got the more Tamera got excited.  The road was packed with cars, people in robes, pajamas or street clothes where either stumbling toward or being helped to the cots or areas on the grass with blankets.  Police were directing traffic away from the front of the building, trying to keep a clear path the entrance.   Mike saw an officer he knew gave him a nod and was waved through.  

Tamera couldn’t contain herself any longer, “Finally we are going to go live from some action.  Not our usual…We’ll the area is clear now but that’s not the way it was an hour ago!  Look at this, it’s a freakin zoo.” 

              “Glad the suffering of others can bring you such joy.”  Mike grunted.

Tamera chose to ignore him.   He pulled the truck up on the curb as close as he could to the Hospital.  There were people everywhere.  Some were covered in blankets other in coats.  Doctors and nurses hurried through the sick trying to reassure relatives and loved ones.

The late afternoon sun began to lengthen the shadows as Tamera took the camera out to start shooting some video.  Mike was busy setting up the transmitter for their live update.  Tamera returned with the camera.  Mike continued to get set up as Tamera hooked up her mic and put in her earpiece. 

Talking to the studio Tamera asked, “What was that Jim?”  She had to force the earpiece tighter into her ear.   “Yes Mike and I will be ready in two minutes.”  She spoke into the microphone.  Mike frowned at her and continued setting up his tripod and cued the video she shot. 

“Jim!  Jim!  I think you need to come to us sooner something is up!”  Tamera shouted into the mic causing her photographer to pull his headphones away from his ear.  “They are coming to us now.”  She yelled.  Mike could not hear the producer but knew they were on when Tamera started talking. 

              “We are here at county hospital where patients have been arriving for the last couple of days.  As you can see the emergency room has spilled out onto the street.”  Mike reached behind him and rolled the tape then flipped the switch from the live feed to the deck while Tamera kept talking.  “Officials are asking the public to please stay in their homes and to only bring loved ones to the hospital for emergencies.  Hospital staff have been overwhelmed with…..Mike come back to me.”  Tamera shouted.  Mike clicked the feed back to the live camera shot.  He panned around to what Tamera was pointing at.  “It appears the National Guard has arrived to assist the medical staff…”  A scream behind Tamera made both her and Mike turn quickly back to the hospital. 

              Several people were struggling to their feet or clumsily easing off cots and gurneys.  People were fighting each other, many were bleeding.  Between the screams came shouted orders, soldiers pushed past the news crew knocking Tamera over.  Mike began to protest, she waved him off to keep shooting what was happening.

              Doctors, nurses and civilians ran toward the soldiers who raised their guns and fired.  Tamera screamed from the ground.  Several of the fleeing people dropped, shot dead, others turned and ran from the soldiers back toward the fighting.  The soldiers fired into the crowd.  “I don’t understand what I am seeing,” Tamera reported, crouched beside the live truck.  “The army has opened fire on the sick and the hospital staff.   It appears the…um… the sick and..oh my god some of the people who were shot are storming the soldiers.” 

Mike had taken his camera off the tripod and was moving toward the soldiers who had formed a line of two rows.  It reminded Mike of a movie about the civil war with one line firing while the second reloaded except instead of one shot the soldiers were empting magazine after magazine. 

              An explosion sent several bodies into the air and across the pavement; a soldier had lobbed in a grenade.   Mike kept filming, watching through the eyepiece.  It was impossible, he watched as a man, whose legs had been blown to pieces by the grenade, clawed his way toward the line of men.   He zoomed out to catch bullets slam into oncoming people who did not stop, or fall.  Arms blew off, chests opened into a sea of red, only when a head burst did a body fall and stop moving. 

A mass of people still moved forward, calls of “I’m out,” began to erupt from the line of soldiers.  Hand guns were drawn and fired until the line began to collapse.  The first of the crowd reached the Army, the second line began to run, the first line disintegrated.  Several soldiers were on the ground being torn apart by the angry mob.  Mike saw through his lens that they were not only being torn apart, they were being eaten. 

              The camera fell, Mike tried to run but came crashing down next to his camera.  Tamera screamed from the door of the van she was trying to close, a man had a hand full of her hair, blood sprayed across the white paint and station call letters.  Tamera’s scalp began to part with her head, a woman bit the back of the reporters hand that still held the microphone.  Pain shot through one of Mike’s legs he spun to see a soldier chewing on his calve.  Mike Kicked at the man’s face, even through the screams he heard the nose break.  The soldier lay still.  Mike crawled under the news van, dragging his camera with him the cord still tangled around his leg. 

Beth looked up startled.  She had been so wrapped up in trying to call Steve and Wes that she was surprised at how close to the Ballpark they were.  She had given up trying to keep track of where they were.  It seemed every street Devin drove down was blocked at some point either with crashed cars, burning debris, or just so many zombies that if something happened to the truck they would never survive.  The half hour trek through downtown, that should have taken no more than ten minutes, looked to be nearing the end.  A feeling of relief filled the truck as the Point Ball Park came into view.

  “We are as good as out of here.”  Trevor sighed as they watch a military helicopter clear the top of the stands and head to the east.

Devin swerved the truck and locked up the breaks.  Out of nowhere a pickup truck flew into their path skidded, bounced off a parked car.  The driver barely slowed as he regained control fo the vehicle and headed toward the ball park.  Accelerating to follow Devin watched the truck stop at the crowded parking lot.  Six people pile out of the pick up and start running toward the field. Devin was so preoccupied with what they were doing he never saw the abandon car.  Letting out a yell he hit the brakes.  Tires squealed and metal screamed.  Everyone in the back was thrown forward.

“Sorry, sorry!” Devin called over the muffled swears and exclamations.  He put the truck in reverse and tried to pull off the crumpled trunk of what had once been a very shiny BMW.

“We aren’t that far, maybe we should…” Gillian started, but she was silenced as the all watched in horror out the front window.

  A helicopter had come into view, rising from the stands.  It pitched forward then lurched sideways.  Beth’s hands covered her mouth.  Martin was gripping the back of the passenger seat.  Gillian gasped as the Helicopter smashed into the bleachers.  The sky lit up as the fuel ignited throwing a fireball twenty feet into the air. 

“No!  Oh No!  Please NO!”  Trevor cried as another helicopter began to struggling to get above the flames.

The group in the armored car watched as this aircraft also began to pitch violently.  Beth cried out and pointed when the bottom of the helicopter became visible.  Several people were visible hanging onto the runners.  Two fell into the flames as the helicopter flew higher.  The stands were now totally engulfed, the flames lit the scene.  They could see the people in the helicopter trying to help the ones on the runners.

“Oh my god what are they doing?”  Gillian screamed as they realized the people weren’t trying to help.  They were trying to knock them off.  Beth swore as one of the people on the runner pulled a woman out of the helicopter as he tried to climb over her to get in.  He was immediately pushed back out and off.   Beth could imagine he scream as the man fell.  She nodded at his fate then cursed herself for thinking it. 

“Oh my god don’t you do it don’t fucking do it, NO!”  Beth yelled.  A man uniform had come to the door.  He was firing at the people on the runners.  Three bodies fell before he was thrown from the helicopter taking another person with him.

  “Let’s get out of here.”  Matt whispered.  Muttered affirmations followed. 

Devin resumed his attempt to free the truck.  Back and forth he rocked until finally they were free.     Beth watched the helicopter now free of its extra weight fly off into the distance.  Flames from the ball park grew higher into the sky.     

Backing up and turning the truck around Devin turned to look at the passengers in the back.  “Where should we try next?  He asked.  He was shaking as he spoke.     

Trevor stared out the window at the bright red flame billowing from ball park stands in his mirror.  “Great, just great.  Now even the military can’t help us, and they actually had a clue this time.”  He exclaimed while slamming his fist on the dash. 

Devin turned to stare at Trevor, “The Army knew what was going on?”

Two small spider webs burst on the passenger window.  A man had emerged from between several parked cars.  He held a rifle up and fired again.  The bullet bounced off the armor above the bullet proof glass.  “Get outta that truck!”  The man screamed. 

              “Time to go!” Devin noted as three more people emerged.  They were running toward the truck all firing their weapons.