The Real Night of the Living Dead (18 page)

The professor screamed.

I fired a shot into her ear at point blank range. My stomach turned as I saw a large part of her scalp explode into about five pieces. A piece of flesh and black hair landed on the professor’s chest as her body dropped.

Another made his way through the window and was trying to get around the desk.

I shot him dead.

Two more were fighting to get through the broken window.

I wrapped my hand around the door knob when I heard Hank again, “
Youse
can’t do this.” I looked back and saw him struggling to get to his feet, his belly, forcing its way through his tight shirt, was drenched in blood.
“
Veimer
, please.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat and said, “Ask your boss, Eugene,” motioning my head toward the old man’s corpse with half a head, “see if he’ll give you a hand.”

Hank screamed as I opened the door and was greeted by another four creatures, waiting to get through the window.

I shot one of them dead, aimed at another and pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
I was out of bullets.

As the creature moved in toward me, and I reached in the satchel for more bullets, the professor’s revolver appeared from behind and fired.

The bullet hit the infected woman in her cheek. She stumbled back but continued moving forward. She was dragging her left leg. I glanced down at it as I loaded the revolver and stared for a moment at the gruesome sight; her left leg was almost completely gone, most of the flesh had been eaten away. There were a few spots of meat scattered throughout, but most of the leg was a bloody moving bone.

The professor fired another shot.

A direct hit.

The infected woman with the bony leg dropped dead, but now we had the attention of the others by the window; they were closing in.

“Come on,” I said to the professor. I dropped the closest one with a shot to the head,
then
we ran toward the small road, hearing Hank’s screams carry into the night.

As we reached the small road that intersected with Roosevelt Boulevard, Hank’s screams were drowned out. I thought for a moment that it was the rain again, but I looked down the road, where the administration building rested at the end and saw from there down to the middle was covered with screaming corpses.

My hands started trembling from the sight of them.

The moment they saw us, the screams grew louder. A few of them began running in our direction.

They were still a good sixty yards away, but we didn’t waste any time. We ran, our feet splashing through the puddles that had formed in the road from the rainstorm.

We passed the second guard house, directly across the road from the guard house where we were just at, and decided to take the boulevard down to Southampton Road. We were doing our best to avoid as much traveling on the muddy fields as possible. But I knew soon we would reach the creek, and I prayed it wouldn’t be flooded. If it was, then we were pretty much done for.

There was actually a tunnel that ran from the women’s group, across Southampton Road, to the children’s camp. Taking that route would’ve been much easier and safer, but there was no way we would’ve been able to reach it. Not only would we have to battle our way through a few hundred of these creatures just to reach the tunnel, but, being that it ran through the creek, it was probably flooded.

As we hauled down the boulevard, I was hoping to lay sight on a passing police car, or any car, just someone who could give us a lift near the camp, and then spread the word of this disaster. But there was nothing. The boulevard was deserted. Not only had the rain kept everyone in their homes, but
Byberry
was mostly farmland and, except for the hospital, there was no reason for anyone in Philadelphia to be up in this area.

I looked back, still running, to see the professor a few feet behind. The screams of the undead were still heard, but we had gained on our distance between them. Most of the creatures were still far up the small road; a few were running across the field, but the mud was slowing them down.

I failed to glance back at the guard house. That’s when the pop echoed, and the professor went down.

Chapter Twenty-nine

I was helping the professor to his feet as more shots were fired. There was blood near his left shoulder from the bullet that knocked him to the street.

“You okay?” I said.

“
Uggh
..
I can’t move my arm.”

I turned back to see a figure, near the second guard house, stumbling toward us and firing a gun whenever he had his chance.

The figure shouted, “Where you headed, convict?” He gurgled, like he was clearing his throat of blood. “You
ain’t
getting anywhere.”

It was Hank. Damn it. I knew I should’ve let him have it right in his big fat mouth. But I wanted him to suffer, so I left him for the infected. Let them finish him off. Enjoy all that he had to offer. But somehow, he managed to break away.

And here he was, shooting at us.

I fired a couple shots back at the injured security guard. I’m sure I missed, but I wanted to distract him so we could get away before he killed one of us.

We continued running. The professor was doing okay. He was able to run fine, he just lost the use of his left arm ― the bullet must have ripped through his collar bone.

We reached Southampton Road and eased to our right, in the direction of the children’s camp.

I could still hear Hank shouting.
Beautiful.
Not only did we have to worry about being eaten alive, but now we had some rotten crumb bum trying to blow our heads off.

Not too far from the opposite side of Southampton Road was a work shed, where the Landscape Department kept some of their tools and equipment. I nudged the professor and told him to head there.

As we crossed the road, I could see scattered creatures, further up, crossing to the two buildings ― used as dorms for nurses and female attendants ― that were before the children’s camp, but none of them noticed us.

I wondered how many were at S-3. From the phone call with the nurse, I knew there was at least a few. Maybe that was all there were? But then, she and others were bitten, and they were barricaded with my sweet Clara. That concerned
me
more than what was waiting outside. What would happen when I finally reached S-3 and made it inside? Would Clara be happy to see me, or would she be infected and wanting to kill me?

God, please let her be okay.

Then Hank screamed and fired another shot. That was all it took for the creatures up the road to turn their attention our way. As soon as they saw us moving, they ran.

I opened the door to the shed, and we hid inside.

“I don’t believe it is wise to remain here,” said the professor.

“We’re not,” I said. “I just
wanna
put this fat slob out of his misery.”

It was dark inside the shed. There was a light switch, but I didn’t want to turn it on. I wasn’t sure if Hank saw us slip inside or not, and I wasn’t trying to announce it if he hadn’t.

My eyes were focused across Southampton, waiting for Hank to appear. I was anxious for him to show his face, so we could end this. Any minute now, the infected on the prowl would be waiting to greet us outside this shed. That was a situation I was trying to avoid. Yeah, we had a satchel of ammo, but how long would it last if I
kept having
to use it on these creatures out here? I had no
clue
how many awaited us at S-3, and I would need all the ammo I could come up with.

Here he was, waddling and stumbling across the road. He must’ve seen us enter the shed as we passed under the street light, ‘cause his eyes were right on it.

He shouted, “Come on out, convict. Don’t try to hide.”

I checked my revolver, making sure it was loaded.

It was.

He fired a shot.

It hit the door of the shed. Christ, this mug was a good shot. He was barely able to walk, but he still managed to get within a few inches of me.

I cursed as me and the professor ducked.

“Let’s go,” he shouted. “If I become one, then I’m taking you with me.” He was near the edge of the road, closer to us. “
Veimer
the convict, come on, we’re waiting for
ya
.”

He tripped and almost fell to the street.

That was my opportunity.

I threw open the shed door, jumped out, and fired two shots. One bullet hit his throat, the other, his chest.

He tipped over, landing on his back; his heavy weight making a loud thud.

“Excellent job, my boy,” said the professor.

“Come on,” I said.

We ran toward the fallen security guard. While moving, I looked up the road to see the three runners closing in on us, about thirty feet away, their screams intensifying.

Standing over him now, I gazed down at Hank.

His shirt was torn. There was a bite on his shoulder and neck and one on his face, below his eye. His face was covered in blood. The guy was a real fighter. I had to give him that. Somehow, he managed to make his way out of that house, passed those maniacs. But he wasn’t getting past me.

He was still alive. His glassy eyes were staring at me as blood spewed from his mouth.

I turned to the three approaching creatures.

Aimed my revolver.

Fired a shot.

One down.

Fired another.

Hit her mouth. She fell to the street.

Fired at the third.

Top of the head.
Dropped him dead.

The woman with the bullet in her mouth was back on her feet.

I fired another shot that hit her in the back of the head as she stood.

Dead.

We wouldn’t be safe for long though. The moans of the mob from back at the guard house were increasing, coming from the field.

I aimed the gun down at Hank’s head. Looked like he finally died, but I had to make sure he wouldn’t come back.

Then a bright light was shining on us and someone shouted, “Put down the weapon.”

Chapter Thirty

The cop was out of his patrol car now, guarding himself behind the open driver door, while pointing his gun at us.

I kept the revolver on Hank’s head as I said to the cop, “Listen, officer, you’re a little late to the party, but let me explain something to you. If you don’t let me put one in this mug’s head, in a few minutes, he’s going to be on his feet, trying to kill us.”

“I said put the weapon down.” He saw the professor beside me holding his gun and said, “You too, put it down.” Then his head tilted, his eyes stole a quick glance to the side. He heard the moans from the field.

“I was the one who called. We need help here. You pointing that gun at me
ain’t
helping very much. This guy here is already dead…”

“Then why are you aiming your weapon at him?” He was
squinting
his eyes at the sound of the approaching creatures; he had no idea what it was. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

“You hear them, don’t you?” I said.

“Are those the patients that broke out?” He gazed at the professor’s appearance; the wet hospital gown and his dirty bare feet.

“Officer,” said the professor, “they are the dead, returned to a life of misery.”