Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (8 page)

Another blur of motion and the ringing of metal like a bell.  The man lost his grip on Kate’s arm.  Kate was in the air then her breath was gone as she slammed onto Bear’s shoulder.  She fought to gain air as she bumped along.  Her back cried out in protest as she slammed onto the back rest of his bike.  She barely got her leg over before she was smashed between Bear and the sissy bar. 

“Dad!  DAD! Where’s Dad?”  Kate pounded on Bear’s huge back.  She could see her father’s bike on its side and his boots twitching next to it.  Her father was completely covered by people.   

The engine roared, tires screamed, dirt and gravel spit while the tires fought for traction.  The front wheel left the ground for a second; Kate was crushed between the huge man and the seat again.  She tried to turn to look back as Bear flew down the road. Tears streamed down her face from the pain and knowing they couldn’t help her father.         

Steve rubbed his eyes, then the back of his neck.  So far the early part of his shift at the distribution center had been its usual mundane repetition.  He was using one of the larger forklifts to stack empty shipping containers.  The work was boring and Steve’s mind was wandering.  He was back on the football field, the stadium at the college roared with cheers.  He was dropping back to pass, it was first and goal with seconds left on the clock.  This pass would win the game and the division.  CRASH!  The container he was moving slammed down harder than it should on the loading dock. 

Shaking out of his fantasy he tried to play off the blunder.  “Damn! I need a break.  Hey Brad, let’s get a cup a coffee.”  He shouted to the man who was passing on another forklift. 

Brad Stevens was an older man, with a short grey pony tail that framed the bald top of his head.  He slowed his lift, thought and grimaced, “Yeah alright be right there.” 

“Well only if it isn’t too much trouble.”  Steve laughed Jumping down from his machine.  Brad waved him off as Steve passed by on his way toward the office.  Halfway there Brad jogged up to join him, slapping Steve on the back. 

“Figured it was about break time, you woke me up with that last container.”  Brad laughed. 

Steve looked over at Brad’s pony tail and bald head and remarked.  “When you gonna cut that thing off?  You look like a bowling ball wearing a hula skirt.” 

“You can…”  But Steve never heard what he could do as their conversation was interrupted as one of the office windows exploded.  Glass and an office chair tumbled to the ground at their feet. 

Steve stopped short and stared throwing out an arm to stop Brad.  Their attention was drawn from the chair at their feet to the shattered window.  Screams erupted through the opening.  A hand shot up then another grabbing onto the glass splintered ledge.  Rachel was trying to claw her way out of the shattered window.

“Help me, dear GOD!  Steve, Brad!  HELP!”  She screamed.  Her eyes were full of terror, pleading for Steve to save her.  He and Brad ran to the terrified woman, Steve searched for smoke or fire.  He could see or smell neither, there were no alarms just Rachel’s pleas.

Each man grabbed an arm and started trying to pull her free of the window but she seemed to be stuck.  Steve could barely keep a grip on her arm, the cuts on her hands and arms made her skin slick with blood.  They tugged and pulled, each time she cried out in pain and fear.  The more they pulled the more she seemed to be pulled back. 

Her face was pale and terrified.  Her screams became more frantic by the second.  Suddenly her grip tightened painfully on their arms.  “Pull me out pull me out NOW!” She struggled and wriggled her feet kicking hard.  Her cries increasing in pitch and intensity, she was truly panicked.  She grabbed and clawed at the men, blood oozed down the wall where the broken glass cut into her stomach.  Steve heard crashing from the room.  He had to cover his head as she thrashed and pulled.    Steve tried to calm her, get her to work with them to free her from the window.   

“They…They…They’re getting in!  Get me out!  Pull PULL PULL!  Get off GET OFF AAARRGHGGGH GET ME OUT NOW!!”  Rachel screamed at them.   Tears streamed down her face as her eyes bulged. Steve and Brad pulled with all their might urged on by her panic.  With a sudden lurch like a cork being pulled from a bottle she slipped free from the window. 

Steve knew in an instant that something was terribly wrong.  Rachel was far too light.  Looking down, “Sweet Jesus!”  Steve cried in horror.  Lying at his feet was only half of the woman.  She gasped as red covered her lips and ran down her chin.  Blood was draining quickly from just under her ribcage, her spine was exposed and her intestines made a trail from her torso to the window. 

Steve’s eyes followed the gruesome trail from the ground to the gaping shattered glass, “Holy Shit!” he stumbled backward tripping over Rachel’s sputtering torso.  Gaining his balance he grabbed Brad’s arm.  The men were rooted to the spot in horror as the woman’s intestines were being pulled back through the window.

Rachel gurgled as blood spurt from her mouth.  She reached for Steve. He never knew if she was trying to tell him something.  He moved to her as her eyes rolled back into her head.  Brad let out a howl, pushed off of Steve and pointed at the window then ran toward the parking lot.

Steve head whipped from his retreating friend to where he had pointed.  In the window was the face of a man.  It was the shipping manager, only his right eye socket was empty and bloody.  He was pulling the intestine back through the window and he was eating it as pulled greedily at the organ.

Steve watched the hideous display, not being able to make his feet obey his command to run.      Something grabbed his ankle breaking him out of his shock.  His head snapped down.  Rachel had one hand on his boot the other was clawing at the gravel. Her eyes showed no pain or recognition just hunger.  He kicked her off and ran blindly after Brad toward the parking lot as screams and more shattering glass erupted from the office. 

Bill Reager slowed the station wagon slightly as he went through the red light at the bottom of the hill.  Beth clung tightly to the seatbelt, not out of fear over the older man’s driving but to fight the grief and panic that was threatening to overtake her.  It was her lifeline, the only thing that seemed real at the moment.  Every time she closed her eyes her father’s face, contorted in terror and agony, swam before her vision, it was all that she could see.   She
had
to talk to her brother.  She needed to know he was ok, and he had to know…about their father. 

Releasing the belt, her fingers ached from the grip, she moved her shaking hand into her jacket.  It wasn’t in the inside pocket where she kept it.  “Where is it?”  Beth fumbled through her pockets.  Bill glanced sideways at her. 

“Where is it?”  She slapped at the jacket.  She felt her pants pockets, returned to her jacket.  “WHERE IS IT!”  She shouted. 

Returning to the inside pocket her fingers curled around the familiar shape of the phone.  Pulling it from her pocket she laughed while several tears escaped her eyes.   Hitting the speed dial she put the phone to her ear.  “Damn it.”  She hung up, scrolled through the contacts. Hit the name but instantly dropped the phone and grabbed the seatbelt again.  Bill jumped a curve to avoid a motorcycle.  The rider was out of control, tearing out of one yard then heading through another.   Several people stumbled after him. 

Recovering herself, she reached down searching for her phone.  Picking it up she frantically unlocked it, she tried to make another call but the car bounced and swerved around a burning truck.  She hit the wrong contact.  Quickly hanging up she dialed another number.  One hand held tight to the seatbelt the other holding the phone to her ear.  Anger swelled up in her, she jerked the phone from her ear and hit the red “end” button.  Frustration and anger overtook her, she called the robotic voice she had hung up on a name she reserved for the most vile of her hatred.   

Bill glanced over again.  “What?”  He asked calmly, as he swung the car around a bend and out of the path a minivan.  The van careened out of control and through the guide rail then down an embankment.  Beth spun in her seat to stare out the back window at the mangled railing, Bill did not slow down. 

“All the circuits are busy or something.”  Beth turned back in her seat and started to text Steve.  “Damn it.  The text won’t go through either.”  She yelled and slammed the phone against her leg.  “I need to find Steve!  Can you take me to the distribution center?” 

  Bill glanced at her.  “I have no idea where we need to go,” his eyes followed a police car that screamed by in the opposite direction, lights flashing and siren blaring, “…. so why not?”  He shrugged.

  “What the hell is happening,” Beth asked angrily holding up her phone as if it would answer her.  “Why was Dad attacked?  Why did they…Kill him?  Why is Denny dead?  What the hell was wrong with those people?  Mrs.  McGee was, she was, I mean she was all messed up?”  Beth continued getting more hysterical with each question. 

“I don’t know.  All the news said was that people needed to stay in their homes, not to panic.  Something about the people with the flu getting violent.  Denny had been sick for a couple days.” Bill paused as he swerved around a wrecked Mercedes.   “I went to check on him and he wasn’t breathing… but he got up… He got up and attacked me.”  Bill gripped the wheel tightly.  “He was trying to bite me.  He was dead but he got up and tried to…Kill me.”  Bill was almost pleading with Beth to understand.

“I hit him.  I hit him and he fell back against the night stand.”  Bill clipped a mailbox as he skidded around a body in the road.  “I heard his head hit the corner.  His neck must have broken.  He couldn’t move but, but his eyes followed me.  They followed me all over the room.  The body was paralyzed, but… He should have been dead!  He was Dead!”  Bill burst out.  “He kept watching me and even though he couldn’t move.  His mouth tried to bite at me… he was still trying to get to me.”  Bill looked over at Beth who stared back her eyes brimming with tears and her hands covering her mouth. 

Bill stared straight ahead his eyes barely seeing the road.  Bursting across the outbound lanes, horns blared and several cars swerved out of Bill’s path as he pulled onto the main road into town.  The opposite lanes were streaming with traffic.

“I couldn’t leave him.  So I, I….I ended his suffering.”   Tears ran down Bill’s face.  He swiped at them trying to clear his vision. 

Beth turned to face the front of the car, staring blankly out of the window trying to understand what she was hearing.  She became aware the radio was on but very low.   She reached over to turn it up a little.  For several minutes Beth and Bill sat in silence while the radio repeated the same constant loop.  “The emergency management department urges citizens to remain in their residence.  Please keep the roads clear for emergency personnel…stay tuned to this station for further information,”

Beth soon only heard the recording as nothing but background noise.  The sounds of the car’s engine and the screech of the tires through the turns even began to fade as she became more lost in thoughts and attempts to reach her brother and Wes.   She hung up the phone, letting it fall into her lap, she would try again in a few minutes.  The monotonous drone of the radio ceased.  There was a click and a crackle, then a thumping, “We on?  We’re live, go.”

The harried voice startling Beth,  she reached forward turning the volume up, she looked over at Bill who was looking at the radio, “The Mayor’s office and National guard have ordered an evacuation of the city and surrounding suburbs.  Citizens are instructed to report to the Point Ball Park, The Richland Mall, or the Hill Top Movie plex.  Whichever is closer to your… Hold on a moment, I have just been handed an update.  What?  Um...any individuals that are currently…is this right?  Any individuals that have the flu are not to be taken to the evacuation areas.  You are instructed to leave them as soon as possible.  Secure the sick individual and leave them where they are.  Medical attention will be sent when you give your information at the evacuation sites.”  The announcer tried his best to remain calm.

  “Those evacuation points again are: The Point Ball Park, Richland Mall and Hill Top movies.  By order of the National Guard the following policy is in effect for evacuation.  If someone is sick or has been injured by someone that is sick they are to report to the Medical tent upon arrival at the evacuation point.”  The announcer’s calm voice began to crack.  “Anyone with the flu will be evacuated separately…but it is recommended that they be left in your homes until help can be sent to them….CAN WE CHECK THIS PLEASE!”  The voice on the radio was becoming more agitated by the second.   There was a crackle, an emergency tone, then a recorded message saying exactly what the announcer had read.  Evacuation points and report or leave the sick or injured. 

Bill changed the channel but it was on every station.   “Leave the sick, or drop them off at the Medical tent… They know what is going on.”  Bill grumbled. 

Beth looked at Bill.  “The Mall is closer, but the Point is only a few blocks from the distribution center.”  She said hopefully.

  Bill jerked the wheel as several cars jumped the median to head back to town toward the ball park.  “Shit!”  Bill yelled avoiding a woman who looked out of her mind in panic.

Beth saw three children in the car all crying and screaming as a man rose up from the back seat.  “Oh my God!”  She screamed and pointed at the car ahead.

“Hold on!”  Bill yelled throwing an arm across Beth.  The woman’s car jumped the curb glanced off a telephone poll and flipped over.  Bill clipped the rear of the car spinning it as he accelerated past it.

“Mr. Reager!  We have to stop!  We have to help them!”  Beth screamed grabbing his arm and spinning in her seat. 

Bill was shaking his head and mumbling as he drove on.  “Too late for them too late.  Can’t stop too late.  We’ll find Steve and we’ll leave.  I’ll find your brother; I said I would, but no more.  Too late to help them.” He pounded the wheel

  Beth was torn between wanting to get to her brother and helping.  She closed her eyes turned back to face the front, cursed herself and Bill, “Yes.  Let’s get Steve and get out of here.”  Tears stained her face as she hated herself and her old teacher.  Looking down at her phone she frantically typed in another text.  She had to retype it several times as her fingers couldn’t find the right keys.  She sent the message to her best friend and watched the indicator.  “Message sent.”  She got excited.  Immediately typing another text to Steve with excited fingers she hit send.  The progression indicator displayed “Sending” she urged it to go, “Sending” 

“Come on come on.”  She shook the phone. 

“Sending” 

“You can do it.” She pleaded.

“Message failed”.  The failure notice burned into her chest. 

“Damn you! You worthless piece of sh, um, uh.  Sorry Mr. Reager”

He glanced at her and laughed.  With all this?”  He gestured out the window, “You think I care if you swear…This fucking sucks.”  Beth sat shocked then laughed and looked down at her phone waiting for a reply from her friend.