Stay Dead 2: The Dead and The Dying (25 page)

He looked back, with hope glimmering
in his eyes, and could see Scott and Judy not far behind now. They
had made great time across the vehicles.

“
Frankie, what are we
doing?” Scott shouted.

“
I think we can get down
over here.”

“
Lead the way, let’s
go.”

“
We can’t just go, I’m
going to wait for--”

“
Just go, we’ll only be
getting in the way. Look how many of those fuckers are coming this
way.”

“
Go on then, I’ll stay
here. Jump down and see if you can find us some wheels.”

Scott jumped down off a car,
shouldering a deader out of the way, then turned back to offer Judy
a hand but she had already jumped down on her own and was running
ahead of her husband.

“
Come on,” she
huffed.

They ran over to Frankie who was near
the guardrail overlooking the toll offices.

“
It’s only a few feet down.
Doesn’t look too bad over here.”

“
It’s dark as shit
man.”

“
Yeah, but I don’t see any
deaders and rows of abandoned cars do you?”

“
No.”

“
Scott, how about that
utility truck?”

“
As good as any. Let’s
check it out.” Scott said as he hopped up and over the
guardrail.

Judy took his hand and he pulled her
over, catching her as she jumped down.

Frankie turned back to the others.
Joseph and Jon-Jon were in the lead, hopping from one vehicle to
the other easily and cautiously. Joseph was swatting away the
deaders as Jon-Jon assisted Dawn, Alexis, and two kids whose names
he couldn’t remember as they hopped over.

Several deaders had shambled closer to
Frankie now. He was starting to settle down from his adrenaline
rush, so charged over to one of the deaders and punched the pry bar
right between its eyes. The dead thing grabbed his wrist but
Frankie grunted and pushed the pry bar further in till the deader
dropped to the gravel. He put his foot on its chest and pulled the
bar out as black gunk dripped off of it. He then proceeded to hit
it a few more times, but had to back up as the rest of the deaders
drew closer.

“
This is the
worst…idea…I’ve ever…” Carrie couldn’t finish her thought. Her
chest felt tight and she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to
catch her breath. Carrie hadn’t done this much exercise since she
was a teenager and now she was wishing she’d at least made some
sort of attempt. She was once a tiny peppy cheerleader, but now she
looked—and felt—more like an ox.

As she was about to hop onto the next
car a deader rose up and wrapped its arms around her leg. She
screamed, falling forward, and smashed her face—open mouthed—into
the rear windshield of the next car. Her face was cut to shreds as
the window spider-webbed. She was barely conscious. Her mouth was
oozing blood and spit. Several of her teeth lay amongst the shards
of glass. She almost didn’t feel the deader gnawing on her
calf.

Eddie ran to her, Chuck right at his
side. He kicked the deader off the car and pulled Carrie out of the
wreckage.

“
Carrie?!”

She only mumbled. Her eyes were closed
and she was making no attempt to wake up out of her
stupor.

“
Shit man, what do we
do?”

Chuck shook his head. He didn’t know
what do say.

“
She’s as good as dead,
man,” Chung-Hee said, coming up from the rear.

“
You’re right.”

“
So, we’re just gonna leave
her?”

“
I’d put her out of her
misery if I could…”

The deader tried to climb up the car
again, this time with a few more of its dead friends.

“
No time. It sucks, Ed, but
we got to go. At least she’s knocked out.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, “Not
quite.”

He lifted the tire iron high above his
head, “Keep moving,” he told them, and then bashed her in the head
enough times that when the deaders dragged her off the car and to
the ground she wouldn’t feel a thing.

Another deader reached for Abdul but
he stomped on its hand and then kicked it away. Chris still slept
on his shoulders, jostling with every movement. Abdul didn’t know
how it was possible, but he thanked Allah all the same.

44 SKIN MASK

(back to
top)

Danni cradled the old man in her arms.
The bleeding on his hand had pretty much stopped, not that he could
really tell, but he felt a new sensation in his body. His stomach
felt as if he’d taken a few shots of Wild Turkey and a bad headache
was percolating just behind his eyes.

“
It’s okay, Danielle, I’ll
be with Lorraine again. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“
I know you will. You’ll
both be happy again—it just sucks that this had to happen in
here…now…you know? It’s just not fair.”

“
Yeah, I know. I guess I
figured I’d just die in a hospital bed. Warm sun coming through the
window. A get well soon balloon tied to the foot of the bed. All
the typical stuff.”

“
Does it hurt?”

“
My hand? No.”

“
Not your hand, you know
what I mean.”

“
Not much.”

Davis was starting to feel guilty
about the old man’s bite. His duty was to protect people. All he
ever wanted to do was to protect people who couldn’t protect
themselves. And for the most part he was happy with what he’d been
able to do. But when he momentarily gave into despair and ignored
their pleading for help he might as well have killed him
himself.

He looked over at them out of the
corner of his eye. He wanted to apologize, to offer some words of
comfort, but he knew they would be meaningless. They were going to
die in here and that was that. He resigned himself to that fate and
closed his eyes, hoping he’d wake up dead.

Topher stared at the dead body in the
cell. Whoever the man was in his former life kept himself in good
shape. His neck was like a tree and his biceps were bigger than
Topher’s head.

He stared at the gore and then to the
dead. A crazy thought popped into his head and wondered if it was
just plain crazy, or crazy to where it might actually work. He
crawled over to the deader hesitantly. Nervous, he was afraid it
would jump up and scare the shit out of him.

It didn’t. He looked over his arm,
making sure he had no cuts or scrapes that he wasn’t aware of. Then
he stuck his hand into the exposed cavity of the deader’s head and
pulled out a handful of brain and goo that instantaneously made him
want to vomit. He then began to smear it all over his arm. He
reached in for more of the viscous contents and did the
same—lather, repeat.

“
Ohmygod, what the fuck are
you doing? Are you insane?”

Davis opened his eyes.

“
I have an
idea.”

“
Have you lost your fucking
mind?”

“
Possibly, but I have to
give it a try.”

“
Give what a try? Are you
going to eat that shit?”

“
What? No! I’m going to see
if this can act like a camouflage.”

“
Please tell me you have no
intention of making a skin mask next?” Davis asked.

“
A what?”

“
Skin mask. Mask made out
of skin. Like Ed Gein…serial killer.”

“
That’s not a bad idea. But
first just a trial test…if you will.”

Topher, content with the amount of
gore covering his arm and hand walked over to the cell bars. He
waived his hand around at the deaders seeing if they would grab it.
Unsure if they were going after him or his hand he went closer. He
stuck out both arms, almost mimicking the way they walk and from
the looks of it, they preferred the cleaner arm. He moved closer,
close enough to where they could grab him. They ignored the limb
covered in human remains and tried to get his other arm.

“
Ha! I think it could
work.”

“
You think covering
yourself in bloody remains will get us out of here?”

“
Well, I don’t think
there’s enough to go around, but maybe. I don’t know if I want to
cover my entire body in this shit. Especially my face, I can’t see
a way around that without getting into my eyes and mouth, and then
I’m sure that’ll get me turned into a zombie. But if you have any
other ideas, please.”

“
I got nothing, but if I
were you, I’d clean that shit off.”

“
Of course.”

Topher looked around the room. There
was only the toilet.

“
Detainees don’t need a
sink?”

“
Not in here they don’t.
It’s just a holding cell for fuck’s sake.”

Giving a deep sigh he walked over to
and knelt by the toilet. He reached his hands in and began to wash
off the gore, flushing it down and trying to not to vomit. He
wasn’t sure what was worse. Sticking his hand in a dead man’s head,
or a toilet.

“
I hope he doesn’t try
wearing my innards after I go,” Clem joked.

Danni smiled at first and then the
smile turned into a hard frown, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“
I’ll miss you too, but
we’ll see each other again I’m sure. You think they have reruns of
Cheers in heaven?”

“
In heaven, I would think
they’d have new episodes.”

“
Now yer
talkin’.”

45 GOODBYE, NEW
JERSEY

(back to
top)

More and more people from the group
were able to get to Frankie at the edge of the road. Frankie was
directing them down toward the toll offices. He wanted to wait till
Eddie was with him, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able
to stick around. The deaders were continuing to make their way over
to him, and no matter how much adrenaline was pumping through his
veins he was exhausted. His blows were growing weaker and his arms
burned as if he’d been lifting weights all day.

Moments later the rest of the group
was visible. Eddie, Chuck, and Chung-Hee hopped from one vehicle to
the other. Frankie waived his hands in the air, jumping and
yelling, “Let’s go motherfuckers!”

Eddie looked up, as he jumped down
from the last car before running towards Frankie and his deader
admirers. He ran at him, clobbering a deader in the back of the
head and knocking it forward with his tire iron as Chung-Hee ran
atop of it, making sure it stayed down.

“
This way. Over the side,”
Frankie yelled as he straddled over the guardrail and jumped the
few feet down.

Chuck didn’t even slow down to look
before he leapt. He ran right up to the guardrail, planting his
foot and then jumping into the air over the side.

Chung-Hee followed behind, though he
and Eddie both paused before jumping off the side. Seeing it was
clear and not that far down they hopped over and jumped down.
Joining the others as they ran toward the toll offices.

***

Scott and Judy had found a maintenance
truck parked out front. It could fit three people inside across the
bench seat, and if everyone else jumped into the bed of the truck
they might be able to fit. There were no keys inside the vehicle,
so they went inside the building. Jon-Jon joined them and as soon
as Joseph made it down from the bridge he did too. Everyone else
waited outside anxiously.

Scott opened the door slowly and
quietly, trying to listen for any noise inside the building. On the
outside it was a small building with a lot of windows, but inside
it was dark and seemed cavernous.

They crept forward. Now trying to move
fast, but without making much noise.

“
Look for any keys,” Scott
whispered.

Judy nodded, sweeping her head around
the room, hoping they would just jump out at her.

“
I’ll check these desks,”
Jon said, skirting past them and to the side.

It looked like a receptionists desk.
There was a charging station with several walkie-talkies and a
telephone. An old bulky computer monitor took up most of the desk
and a coffee cup full of pens sat next to it. No keys. He rummaged
through the drawers—No keys.

Scott opened another door—this one
leading to an office. The manager’s he figured by the looks of it.
He doubted he’d find the key in there but he had to look. Judy
stood by him, checking a row of cabinets as he checked out the
desk.

Joseph looked around. He didn’t want
to go about looking for the keys blindly. He thought about it, as
if he were looking for his own keys, which he would always lose
around the house. He always left them in his pockets—pants pockets,
jackets, coats, things like that. If he just came in from driving
the truck what would he do? Take off his coat. Get changed. Go
home.

He spun around and then he saw it—a
coat rack. Come on, please be in here. He rushed over to it. There
were four jackets. A woman’s pea coat, a navy blue trench coat, a
Carhartt, and a track jacket. He grabbed the Carhartt and rummaged
through the pockets; a pack of bubblegum, a pack of cigarettes and
a lighter, a pen, and a set of keys.