Reanimates, page 10
part #1 of Reanimates Series
It was an odd sort of morning, a fact that was punctuated by the lack of bird song. It almost seemed like the birds were aware that if they made any noise then they too would be hunted. It was at that moment that it dawned on me that we had not encountered any animals these last couple of days, besides the cat that had been stuck in the closet. There were no birds, no squirrels, no dogs, nothing. This did not bode well. With no animals to hunt for food, we would eventually starve. This too was a problem for the future.
Frank started to move towards our ride, crouched low to the ground and moving as swiftly and as quietly as his aged body would allow. We were about halfway to the Humvee when from the field on our left came three of the reanimates. They must have come from a greater distance to answer the siren song of the car horn, only to be rewarded by the sight of live prey. Although Michelle was already quite laden with bags, I handed her what little I had and then changed course to intercept the threat.
My plan was to use the same tactic that I used at the Mobil. I just hoped that it would work out better this time. They say that pain is life’s best teacher and I definitely learned my lesson back at the store. I did not focus all of my attention on the reanimates this time. I kept my head on a swivel and surveyed the entire area. Like before, the three undead people saw me approaching and I became the sole item of their focus.
I glanced over at the group and was thankful that Michelle had not said anything to the rest of them. That was at least how it appeared because no one had come to try to assist me. They were getting closer to safety as I closed the gap between me and the gnashing teeth of the three cannibalistic corpses. I passed by the first one close enough to reach out and give him a shove. In retrospect this was not the best of ideas. My hope was that the shove would knock it off balance and knock it to the ground, maybe even take the other two with it. What happened instead was that the reanimate let loose a loud groan of protest.
I felt my blood run cold when that groan was answered by a multitude from behind me, which was the direction of the horde. I knew that time was not on my side. I needed to get these three to head away from the Humvee and then to rejoin my group before the horde descended upon us. I turned to head into the field when I heard Frank yell my name.
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked back at the Humvee. All four of them were standing outside and waving their arms in the air. Understanding dawned on me as I patted my pocket, I still had the keys, and the truck was locked. I knew that I could not get far enough away from the trio and the circle back in time to get into the truck before the horde started to arrive.
I stood there on the edge of the road with only three feet separating me from the reanimates. I also stood there on the edge of a decision that might end my life or the life of someone else. I needed to think and think fast. My eyes scanned the area around me for anything that might serve as a weapon only to find nothing. If foul language could harm someone, then I was well armed, but unfortunately all I currently has was my wits.
I had an idea, but as Frank would say, it was a shit idea. Sometimes you need to choose between the lesser of two evils and sometimes you just have no other options. We can all look back at a time when we had a difficult choice to make and see different options with perfect clarity, but when you are staring death in the eye that is not always the situation.
I turned from the three reanimates and ran up the road at top speed counting to five. When I reached five, I stumbled to a stop and turned back to face them. Again, I broke into as fast a run as I could manage. I could hear my friends yelling at me to stop. I had done the calculations. The Humvee did not have power locks. Even If I had headed directly to it, these three would arrive there before we could manually unlock every door and get all five of us in safely. I decided that this would be the time to try my hand at bowling.
When I was at about arm’s reach from the first reanimate, I dropped to the ground and rolled at his feet. My head slammed off the pavement and left some skin behind. I was also pretty sure that I felt a rib or two break. I slammed into the feet of the first and felt him topple to the ground. This impact absorbed a lot of my momentum and caused me to have great doubts about whether my plan would work. The remaining two reanimates were close enough together that I slammed into them at the same time. These were both once women and thankfully lighter in weight than the first reanimate. I rolled through their legs with enough momentum to come out the other side and unencumbered by any one of them falling on me. On the negative side one of their feet found my groin and knocked the wind out of me. For a brief moment pain was all I knew but that was overridden by the fear of becoming a meal. I forced myself to my feet as the trio had started to crawl towards me and made my best possible speed to the Humvee.
As I limped over, I fished the keys out of my pocket and when I was close enough, I tossed them to Frank. He caught them and said, “You are one crazy son of a bitch.” He did not dwell on that fact though and turned to unlock the door. The horde was closing fast, and the trio had already regained their feet and was walking towards us. I heard the engine roar to life as I rounded the nose and found the front door standing open awaiting me.
The people inside the Humvee were shouting at me to hurry which was not what I would call helpful. My nuts were throbbing, my face was bleeding, and I was having great difficulty with breathing. I was spurred forward though when I heard the sound of a reanimate slamming into the front of the truck. I did not know if it belonged to the trio or a member the horde. At that point I did not care. I lunged forward and grabbed the open door, using it to pull myself into the cockpit.
My feet had barely left the ground when Frank floored the accelerator, launching the Humvee backwards with great speed. I struggled to seat myself and then once seated I struggled even more with closing the door. Yanking it closed with all my might I felt a sharp pain in the vicinity of my ribs and suddenly found breathing a lot more difficult. I hoped that I had not just punctured a lung.
When we were far enough away from the horde, Frank cranked the wheel and turned the truck around so that we were facing the direction we were heading. The path ahead was littered with both abandoned cars and the walking corpses that wanted us for dinner. Frank was driving at about twenty miles an hour, which was not blisteringly fast, but it was substantially faster than any one of the undead could travel. The horde soon vanished from sight and the group members soon started to calm down.
I could feel myself starting to sweat profusely from the pain in my side. Frank glanced over at me and said, “You look like shit.”
I said, “You know me and my shit plans.” Frank and I chuckled at this and then asked, “Is there a first aid kit in this beast?”
Frank nodded and gestured to the compartment where a glove box would be in a normal vehicle. I opened it and discovered a large kit. I hoped that it would contain a compression wrap large enough to go around my ribs several times. I’ve seen enough medical shows to know that the only thing you can do for broken ribs is to try and stabilize them. Opening the kit, I quickly found what was needed so I took it and then returned the kit.
“We should try to raid a pharmacy,” I said. “Clearly not today, but soon. This kit and what we grabbed from work won’t last long.”
I looked around at the world outside of the Humvee and had an odd feeling come over me as I recognized it and yet at the same time it seemed so very foreign. There were several reanimated meandering about, but none of them were very close to the road.
I looked at Frank and asked, “Can you stop here? I need to bind my ribs.”
Frank nodded and pulled the Humvee to a stop. When all forward motion had ended, I climbed out of the seat and onto the road. Every movement created a symphony of pain, but I knew that I could not allow it to impede me. I pulled off my shirt and tried to wrap my ribs, failing miserably. Julio must have been watching because he joined me and took the bandage from my shaking hands.
“Jim, let me do this for you,” he said. It took only a few minutes and what seemed like several pints of sweat before he had me all bandaged. While every movement still hurt like hell it did not reach the level of incapacitating anymore. I would be useless in a fight for a while, but this at least helped me keep my mind clear.
Julio and I got back into the truck and we once again resumed our course that would take us through the Lake Champlain islands. We would be going through South Hero, Grand Isle, North Hero and finally into Alburg. There were several bridges that led from one island to the next and I hoped that no one had assumed control over them in an attempt to set up raids of people trying to pass through.
Frank made the right-hand turn onto US Route Two which would be the road we would stay on all the way into New York and our destination. The need of firearms still weighed on my mind, so I pulled my phone from my pocket and powered it up. I was relieved to see that I still had a decent amount of battery life as well as a decent cell signal. I did a quick search for a gun store and found a couple. One only dealt in shotguns while the other sold a myriad of kinds. Lakeshore Firearms Guns and Ammo was located on Grand Isle. If we took Donaldson Road to East Shore Road, we would be able to stop at the store and then take East Shore back to Route Two.
I let Frank know of our route deviation and he nodded. “Look guys”, I said, “I would never ask you to do anything I wouldn’t, but if it looks hairy at the store, I don’t think I would be of any help going in there.”
Julio replied, “Jim, sit this one out. Mr. Frank and I can handle it.”
“He’s right, kid,” said Frank.
I was relieved that they were both willing to go and get us the guns that we needed, but sad at the same time because I was laying all of our hopes on someone else. I knew that one of the traits that made someone a good leader was allowing others to use their strengths, but that also ran counter to my belief that a great leader was willing to do anything that they asked of their followers.
My thoughts and doubts drifted away as I watched the world outside slowly pass by. There were a few times when Frank had to drive on the grass beside the road to avoid groups of abandoned cars. The landscape was dotted with the wandering undead in their endless search for food. Inevitably they would turn towards the sound of the engine and change their course. I knew that we were in no danger of being attacked by them in the Humvee, but I still had an unsettling feeling about them following us.
After around twenty minutes I saw a sign for Sand Bar State Park. This meant that we were close to the bridge that leads to South Hero. A cold chill ran down my spine as I again wondered if the bridge was under control of people with ill intents. I quickly ran through my memory of what the road looked like and remembered that there was a corner just before the park entrance that obscured the view of the bridge. The land between the road and the park was mostly wetland and heavily wooded which meant that even if the Humvee had a snorkel, we would not be able to drive through it.
When we were about a quarter mile from the corner, I had Frank stop. I spun in my seat as best that I could to help everyone hear me.
“I don’t know if we should just drive up to this bridge without knowing what is on the other side of that turn,” I said. “This bridge is the only way onto the island chain from this side of the state. Someone could have taken the bridge out or even worse there could be a group of people that are controlling it and they might be armed.”
I saw the looks of concern flash across the faces of those that I could see. Unlike in other situations, I was lacking a plan this time.
Karen spoke up. “Well one of us needs to go take a look then, don’t we?”
This started a cacophony of voices arguing over who should go. I knew that ultimately, as the leader, I could ask someone to go, but I was hopeful that there would be a volunteer. I just did not imagine it would be the person that spoke up.
“I’ll go!” Karen’s voice rang out above the rest. “Hell, it was my idea anyway.”
I looked at her and asked, “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “My doctor keeps telling me I need more exercise anyway. Do you think we could get closer though? Just in case I need to make a quick getaway.”
I nodded and Frank moved us to within an eighth of a mile from the corner. He stopped the truck and shut off the engine. “I don’t dare get closer,” he said. “If there are people waiting there, I am pretty sure they already heard the engine.”
I looked at Karen and gave her some advice that looking back she probably did not need. “Do not talk to anyone and try not to be seen. Just take a look and come back to report to us. And above all else, don’t get bit.”
Karen looked at me like I had three heads and said, “Gee, thanks.” She exited the Humvee and moved to the right side of the road. She left the pavement in favor of the roadside and moved forward swiftly. I liked her thinking on this. The trees and tall grasses would provide her with some natural camouflage and keep her from being easily seen. Given the fact that there were no houses nearby and that the road was bordered by wetland I held out high hopes that she would not encounter any reanimates either. As we watched Karen move away from us, I instructed Julio to watch out the back window for anyone or anything trying to sneak up on us.
Before long Karen vanished from sight, not due to distance but from her veering deeper into the bushes. It seemed as though she had the same idea that I would, to cut through the land area and into the state park where she would have a relatively unobstructed view of the bridge without being out in the open.
We all sat there in a silence that was not comfortable, not knowing how long we should wait. The seconds ticked by into minutes. As the fifteen-minute mark approached Julio gave a warning that there was a group of reanimates approaching from our rear. I could not turn fully around to look so Frank did.
“Looks like around ten minutes before they are here,” he supplied.
I was about to tell him to fire up the engine and go looking for Karen when she appeared from the bushes. She was filthy from her trek and running, but most importantly she looked terrified. The reason for her fear became rapidly obvious when a group of reanimates emerged from the bushes as well.
Karen got in the Humvee and locked the door behind her, a course of action that we all took in kind. Frank started the engine and was about to move forward when Karen stopped him.
“Wait!” she yelled through panting breaths. “The bridge…….it is not safe.”
Frank and his military background did not like that answer. As the undead started to arrive at the Humvee and try to gain entrance he spun on Karen.
“Would you care to tell me what the hell that means?”
Karen worked on slowing her breathing and answering Frank. “One lane of the bridge is gone. It looks like someone blew it up. The other lane is only partially there, and I do not know if it would support the weight of this truck. The entire bridge is crawling with them as well”, she added as she indicated out friends outside.
We all knew that the lake was shallow through this area, but not shallow enough to drive through. We had two options and neither of them were very appealing. The Humvee started to rock under the efforts of the growing mob of reanimates that fought to gain access to us. The metal that made up the exterior started to groan in protest. We had to choose a course of action and choose it swiftly.
“Frank, what do you think?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, instead putting the truck in gear and flooring the gas. We took off in the direction of the bridge. The powerful engine had little trouble pushing the weight of the five reanimates that blocked our way aside. We rounded the corner and came face to face with what could only be described as a nightmare.
Karen was right about the bridge, but she had overestimated. What was once a road that was wide enough for two lanes of traffic plus a pair of shoulders that could easily fit a vehicle had now become barely one lane wide. If Frank misjudged and approached the road a mere couple of inches to the side, we would be stranded and surrounded by an army of the undead. I tried to count the walking corpses that we were approaching but gave up after three hundred, and that was just on this side of the damaged area.
This bridge was not built upon actual land but rather the area had been built up with large rocks. I was hoping that this meant that even though the damage to the bridge was substantial that the overall integrity was still there.
We started to enter the crowd of reanimates on the bridge and could hear the sound of them bouncing off the brush guard that was mounted to the front of the Humvee. Blood from the impacts started to cover the windshield but it was not like normal blood. Even though they were up and walking around, the dead were truly dead, and their blood reflected that fact. It had pooled in their bodies and turned into a black jelly.
I looked over at Frank and he was clearly struggling to keep the steering wheel under control and work the windshield washer at the same time. I hoped that we had chosen wisely in taking this route. We were also losing speed. The Humvee was a beast, there was no doubt about that fact, but even it struggled to plow through a sea of bodies. We were now moving forward, but just barely, our speed somewhere around four miles an hour. The reanimates were able to get hand holds on the truck, one of them even succeeding in removing the side mirror by me.
As I felt all hope fade, we finally broke through the swarm of reanimates to the narrow path that was left of the bridge. I could see from the look of surprise on Frank’s face that he had not expected us to make it through the throng. He slowed our speed to a crawl and moved onto the most treacherous part of our journey thus far. As we neared the halfway point the pavement crumbled and the back tire on the driver’s side fell into the open space. The frame of the Humvee rang out in protest as it hit the ground and we came to a stop. Making matters worse was the reanimates seized this opportunity to try and climb on the Humvee.
This was an older model of the Humvee and as such the four-wheel drive needed to be engaged with a lever. I was thankful that the hubs did not require locking because there was no way I was sending anyone out there. Frank engaged the four-wheel drive and with some protest and scraping the truck started to move again. That was the good news. The bad news was that we had been stopped long enough for some of the reanimates succeed in their desire to climb on top of the truck and they were now banging on our roof. This model had a hatch in the middle of the roof and the latch started to rattle as one of them pried at it. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before they got in that way. I relegated that to a problem we would handle when it actually became a problem.
