Unrest (7 page)

              “Jesus H. Christ,” Marina said. They were pushing up against the side windows, obliterating her view through the windshield. As much as she wanted to rev the engine she would probably only get three deep, if that, before the van got stuck, so she had to keep driving forward at about five miles an hour, gently nudging them along.   

              Ravenous faces pressed against the glass. The van only succeeded in pushing the zombies forward, but they still held on. For the first time Marina truly felt afraid. When she was sure it was over for her, she heard a man’s voice shout loudly over the mob, “Hey!”

              Some of the zombies turned in the direction of the shout which was somewhere beyond the ocean of walking corpses. The air suddenly filled with the racket of machinegun fire, as some of the heads of the zombies began to explode about her. Bodies fell around the van. When they had cleared a path through the mob, Marina, and Kamara in the vehicle behind her could see three men in full camo. Military!

              The mob was still swarming, but now they could drive their vehicles through, as the military guys continued firing into the throng on both sides of them. The only drawback to the gunfire was all the attention was drawn toward them now. The zombies ignored the slow moving vehicles and went toward the men standing out in the open. The zombies either had no fear, or no clue that they were walking toward their own suicide. Likely both. Their one instinct appeared to be to feed.  

              Despite killing off a good portion of them the military men were quickly overwhelmed. Those that passed through the gunfire made their way toward the men, overpowering and engulfing them. With their attention drawn to them, Marina exited the van, running into an emptied warehouse. There was still no getting around them. Xinga, Jomo, and Kamara followed her lead. They went through the first floor and out the back door into another alley. It was empty. There was no roadway here, but they had abandoned their vehicles anyway.

              Marina looked at the others. “You guys didn’t have to follow me.”

              “There was no other way out,” Kamara said.

              “It was a shitty thing to do,” Marina insisted. “We left them to die. They saved us.”

              “There was nothing we could do,” Jomo said, clearly shaken by the decision.

              “And now we have no rides,” Marina added.

              “We couldn’t have gotten out with them anyway,” Kamara said. “We were swamped.”

              “Can go please,” Xinga said, shaking.

              “I agree,” Marina said, “Let’s get the hell out of here before they catch on to us.”

***

              Making their way through abandoned streets, and hiding around buildings when they caught sight of zombies, they came to a set of steps. At the top of them the doors to the classical building with Roman columns was open.

              “What is?” Xinga said.

              “It’s a museum,” Jomo replied with a sense of wonder.

              “We should go in,” Marina said. “Maybe there are other survivors.”

              “Or more of...” Xinga tried her best to imitate how the zombies moaned and moved and made odd faces, and it caused them to burst out with laughter.

              “We’ll never know ’til we try,” Marina said.

              “I’ll bite,” Kamara said.

              “Poor choice of words, my friend.”

              They went up the steps and entered the immense lobby. There were no people, living or otherwise.

              “We need to get that van back,” Marina said.

              “We can’t,” Kamara said.

              “We made a promise to Jomo to get his family.”

              “No, no,” Jomo said. “I want to have my family back very much, but not at the risk of my friends. We will find another transport.”

              Marina clapped him on the back. “You’re a good man Jomo. We’re gonna get that van back. And I need to get to my place and get some guns. Then we’ll have a fighting chance with these deadbeats.”

              Xinga giggled.

              “Oh, that joke you get. Asians.” Marina winked at her.

              They moved past statues of alabaster and bronze into a hall lined with paintings. They sat down on one of the benches.

              “What now?” Kamara asked.

              “We should phone the others,” Jomo suggested, “See how they’re doing.”

              “Good idea,” Marina said.

              She got a hold of Klaus.

              “Hey, my German compatriot, how goes the search?”

              The line was so deathly silent that for a moment she thought they got disconnected. She opened her mouth to say his name, and then he spoke.

              “We’re not doing too good,” Klaus said. “Where are you?”

              “We’re at a museum. We had to abandon our vehicles.”

              “Vehicles?” he said. “Plural?”

              “Yeah, we found a van, but... Never mind. It’s pretty quiet here. But we’ve only entered the first room.”

              “Which museum are you at?” Klaus asked. She could hear Samir and Ian conferring in the back-ground. She told him.

              There was some whispering in the background before Klaus came back on and said quite assuredly, “We’re heading towards you.”

              “Okay. Good! Avoid the back streets, especially the warehouse district. Trust me.”

              “We will. Marina?”

              “Yeah?”

              “You do know that museum has a weapons room?” Klaus said.

            
 
In The Armory, which was what the museum had dubbed the room containing weapons from different periods, they waited for the others. The weapons in question were behind quarter inch thick glass in cases on the walls or free standing on pedestals in the middle of the room behind cubes of glass. They would have to find a way to smash through, but the displays were probably alarmed, so it was best that the rest of the group arrived first before they smashed and grabbed, alerting cops who were probably already otherwise occupied, or inviting a zombie horde.

              To Marina’s dismay there weren’t many guns. A few revolvers and some long rifles, and she was sure they wouldn’t have any ammunition. There were plenty of sharp and blunt weapons that the rest of them eyed admiringly.

              “We meet the others soon?” Xinga asked, seated at one of the benches with Jomo.

              “Yes, they should be here any minute,” Jomo confirmed.

              “Good, we need more men,” she said. Then she lowered her head, embarrassed. “No defense.”

              “It’s no
offense
sweetie, and I won’t take any even though I can run circles around them,” Marina said.

              Kamara laughed.

              “It is true,” Jomo said, “that I am no warrior, but in my country I was an excellent hunter.”

              Marina smirked. “That’s good to know kid. I don’t think we’re the ones doing the hunting though.”

              “It will probably come in handy,” Kamara said.

“Maybe you shouldn’t just dismiss him out of hand like that.”

              “You’re right,” Marina said. “I’ll wait to see what the kid can do.”

              The other three arrived.

              “Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” Xinga said.               Samir smiled. “Good to see you too.” He looked around. “Where’s Lupe?”

              “Home with her family,” Kamara said, a bit sadly.

              “I see.”

              “Are you okay?” Jomo asked Samir. Everyone could tell something was off.

              “No. I had to kill...” He stopped and corrected himself. “My friends here killed my parents because they turned into those things.”

              “And my girlfriend,” Ian said.

              “Jesus,” Marina said.

              “And my wife is very much alive, but has gone on without me to see her parents,” Klaus said.

              “I hear ya,” Kamara said.

              “We are quite sorry for your losses,” Jomo said.

              They told the three of them about what they’d seen on the news, and how it was affecting many areas, not just Atlanta.              

              “We need you guys to help us get our van back,” Marina said, “And Kamara’s car. To get Jomo’s family. And we need to get something to break into these cases so we have weapons to defend ourselves.”

              “No more T-squares and rulers?” Ian said.

              “Exactly.”

              They went through the adjoining rooms to look for objects that might open the cases. Samir found a heavy polished rock that was some sort of piece of abstract art he didn’t understand. It lay on the floor in an exhibit surrounded only by black bands and tension rods with large metal disk bases. It took both Samir and Klaus to lift it.

              The wall displays did not set off alarms but the

cubes on the floor did.

              They took turns picking up and smashing displays with the rock between two of them and grabbing what they could, although it was obvious each had a preference.

              Xinga lifted a pair of batons that came to a sharp point and almost looked like knives except for the two curved prongs extending from the handle.

              “What are those?” Ian asked.

              “They are Sai,” Xinga said.

              “Do you know how to use them?”

              “Yes, I used to practice with them in my country.” She demonstrated by twirling them between her fingers, thrusting and parrying. She was pretty good.

              “Wow, we got ourselves a little martial artist here,” Ian announced. He went and picked out a spiked mace. It had a large wooden handle, and the spiked ball achieved both his desire to bash and to stab. It also had a long loop leather band coming out from the handle for swinging. “Perfect!” he said.

              Jomo found a hefty spear in one of the display cases and instantly began to practice thrust the air.

Marina settled for a machete from some indigenous tribe of Native American farmers until she could slice her way home. Kamara removed a two bladed traditional Viking battleaxe, while Klaus lifted a medieval era sword, grinning widely. Samir was eyeing an 1861 Civil War musket.

              “You ever used one of those?” Marina asked.

              “No, but my father was in the Indian army and I’ve seen him use it.”

              “I have ammunition for it if you want to grab

it,” she said. “Just have to make it to my place. I want to take a few of my guns anyway. You can use the bayonet part in the meantime.”

              Samir smiled. “Thank you.” 

              “Not a problem, but that damn alarm is. I can barely hear myself talk.”

              They made it back outside on to the steps. No security came for them. There were a couple of zombies milling about at the bottom of the stairs, but otherwise the streets were empty.

              “I want our goddamn van back!” Marina shouted.

              “I’d love my car back,” Kamara said, “But realistically, not gonna happen.”

              “We certainly can’t fit everyone in my car,” Samir said, “So we will have to find something.”

              “Where is this alley where the zombies swarmed you?” Ian asked. “Maybe they’ve left. We can drive by and look in anyway.”

              Kamara told them and Samir, Ian, and Klaus left to check the situation.

              The two zombies noticed them and looked up as they descended. Ian took glee bashing in their heads with his spiked mace, swinging it from its strap in a circle, and then dancing around still swooshing the air with it. Klaus and Samir looked at him and then each other. Samir understood.

              “Next time, let me have one,” he said.