3.2 As the World Dies Untold Tales Vol. 2 (12 page)

“
It’s okay. I saw blood on her. I did,” Lenore swore. “I saw it.”

Ken nodded and swallowed hard. His hands shook as he drove and he tried to get a grip on himself. “Okay.”

“
I wouldn’t lie to you,” Lenore said in a firm voice.

“
Okay,” he said one more time. He bobbed his head up and down in affirmation of his words. “I believe you.”

“
Circle around on Cemetery Road,” Lenore directed.

“
Ugh! What if they are coming out of the graves?”

“
Then they’re probably all out and eating someone by now,” Lenore answered without a touch of humor in her voice.

Ken flipped on his turn signal and drove the truck onto a very narrow dirt road. The old cemetery was just that: old. No one was buried there anymore due to restriction of space. Most people from the town were now buried around ten miles out of the city limits in a brand new cemetery with flat headstones and boring landscaping. The old cemetery on Cemetery Road was full of tall gravestones, mausoleums, and weeping angels. It was overgrown with weeds nowadays and the city was constantly harassing the holders of the privately owned land to clean it up.

As Ken drove over the road that was rife with deep gouges, they both lapsed into sullen silence. The cemetery, off to Ken’s left, was quiet and devoid of anything living or undead. The high wrought-iron fence leaned dangerously in spots, but the graves were undisturbed. Wherever the zombies had come from, it was not the graveyard.

The appallingly-potholed little road curved around behind the cemetery and under a canopy of gnarled, overgrown oak trees. The branches overhead created deep shadows under the canopy and Ken felt unnerved by the sudden gloom. The silent graveyard loomed in his peripheral vision. Even though he had seen the dead come to life, he was more unnerved by being so close to the hallowed ground of the cemetery.

Cher let out a low, cranky meow.

“
It’s okay, sugar, we’re almost there,” Lenore said.

“
Where is the shotgun?” Ken asked suddenly. “Mr. Cloy said the shotgun was in the truck.”

Lenore looked over her shoulder at the empty gun rack. “It’s not in the rack. Must be around here somewhere.” She began to feel around behind their seats.

Ken gasped as a zombie stumbled into the area where the old road intersected with the residential street that led to Lenore’s house. It was a male, terribly mutilated and missing its eyes. It appeared to hear the truck, for it started to screech.

Ken stomped on the brakes and stared at the creature in horror. Lenore yelped as she fell back into her seat clutching the shotgun.

“
Ken!”

“
What?”

“
Run it over!”

The blind zombie wandered in front of them, its hands reaching out, searching for the truck.

Ken could not believe what he was seeing. The eyeless sockets and empty chest cavity was the stuff of horror movies or an X Files episode. This close, the zombie was almost too much for him to handle.

“
Ken, run it over!” Lenore shouted again.

Cher yowled anxiously.

Ken shifted into reverse and pulled away from the zombie. Beside him, Lenore clutched the shotgun in both hands. Shifting gears, he took a deep breath.

“
Just floor it and hit it,” Lenore instructed.

Ken swallowed and shoved his foot down onto the accelerator. The big truck roared forward and just before it hit the zombie, Ken squeezed his eyes shut.

“
Ken!”

The impact was brutal. The truck was slammed to one side and the screech of metal grinding against metal filled the cab. Ken was thrown violently, his seatbelt catching him securely and pinching deep into his chest. The airbags exploded and the air filled with fine white powder.

“
What the-” Ken muttered, opening his eyes.

It wasn’t the zombie that had smashed into the front of the truck, but a small car. Inside, a young woman was draped over the steering wheel. The windshield of her tiny, ancient car was shattered and glass glittered in her blond hair.

Cher hissed loudly as Lenore moaned beside him. Ken straightened in his seat as Lenore raised her hand to her bleeding temple. She appeared dazed.

“
We need to get that girl and...” Ken’s voice trailed off. The front end of the truck wasn’t that badly crumpled, but it was listing to one side. He shifted gears quickly and tried to reverse. The truck didn’t budge. The tire was most likely rammed into the side of the wheel well and was not budging.

“
What the hell just happened?” Lenore said in a slurred voice.

“
An accident and-No! No! No!”

The zombie he had been trying to hit hauled itself over the hood of the small car toward the shattered windshield. Its grotesquely gnawed fingers anxiously sought flesh. Another zombie, this one a woman in a pale pink housecoat, also reached the car embedded into the side of the truck, and tried to reach the unconscious girl.

“
Lenore! Lenore! We have to shoot them! Give me the gun!”

She just stared at him blankly, still woozy.

Ken snatched the shotgun out of her hands and fumbled with it. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to work the weapon. He feverishly searched for something labeled a
safety
. The characters on TV always talked about it on cop shows. He knew it had to be loaded and ready. Mr. Cloy always said he kept his weapons locked and loaded.

He found a button and pushed it.

The shotgun went off with a thunderous roar. The driver’s side window exploded beside him, showering him with glass. Deafened by the shot, Ken couldn’t even hear himself screaming.

Outside, the female zombie managed to grab the girl’s hair and began pulling her toward her. Ken could feel his heart pounding as he tried to aim the shotgun at the female zombie. Just as he squeezed the trigger, the shotgun was knocked to the side.

The blast caught the unconscious girl in the car full in the chest.

Ken gasped.

A hand, bloodied and chewed, thrust into the truck’s broken window, grabbing for him.

12.

It Gets Worse

When Ken fired through the window, Lenore jerked upright and felt her brain careen wildly inside her skull. She gripped her head tightly between her hands and moaned softly. Between being deaf and her head feeling like it was about to explode, she felt alert once more.

She had an inkling she may have been knocked unconscious for a few moments. The disorientation she felt after the crash was fading now. The world seemed to be coming out of the haze. Instead of feeling like she was moving in slow motion through a horror movie, she felt painfully-aware of the world in action around her.

Ken screamed beside her and she turned to see a hand reaching through the shattered window. He thrashed around in his seat trying to evade the zombie.

Lenore leaned over, still feeling rather sluggish, and saw the zombie try to grab Ken. “Help me! Help me!” Ken struggled with the seatbelt.

Lenore pulled the shotgun off his lap.

“
I fired two shots! It doesn’t have any more!”

She took aim at the horrible shredded face and pulled the trigger. The shotgun thundered and the zombie fell. The other zombies paid no attention as they continued to pull apart the girl in the car.

“
It’s dead. Calm down.” Lenore’s fingers found the button on his buckle and pressed it.

Ken nearly crawled onto her lap trying to get away from the shattered driver side window.

Lenore fumbled for the bag she had pulled the shotgun out of. More zombies were struggling to get into the car that had crashed into them. The feeding frenzy had the attention of the undead. For now they weren’t paying mind to the truck or its occupants. Lenore snagged the bag and yanked it onto her lap. Checking inside, she was relieved to see several boxes of shotgun shells.

“
Lenore, Lenore, I killed that girl they’re eating. I killed her,” Ken whispered in a trembling voice.

“
Can’t worry about that now,” Lenore answered and shoved the passenger door open. She dropped out of the truck and surveyed the surroundings. She heaved the bag over one shoulder and held the shotgun in one hand.

“
Zombies, everywhere, Lenore,” Ken hissed.

“
Window broken. Broken truck. Get out.” Lenore’s head was throbbing and her vision was a little off, but she knew they had to go and now.

Ken slid out of the truck and dragged his bag with him. He snagged Cher’s carrier. He looked too pale and his eyes were huge in his pinched face.

From behind the battered cars came the terrible sounds of the feeding frenzy. The crunching and slurping was enough to make anyone want throw up, but Lenore’s tummy was empty now. She swallowed firmly and pulled Ken along behind her.

She could see her home just three houses down the block to the right. It was so close. If they could just avoid any of the really fast zombies, they could probably make it to safety.

Ken breathed heavily beside her as they jogged toward the house. Though she didn’t want to, she reluctantly took a quick peek behind them. A badly-mauled zombie trailed behind them. Its leg was chewed to the bone and it was missing an arm. It was Mr. Thames, her elderly neighbor, who had been tending his yard when she had left for work not too long ago.

Whipping about, she aimed the shotgun at his head and pulled the trigger. The shotgun merely clicked. It was empty.

“
Crap!”

“
Reload it!”

“
Do you know how?”

“
No,” Ken whispered.

Lenore flipped the shotgun around and held it by its warm barrel as Mr. Thames drew closer.

“
Let’s run!”

“
It will follow us!”

Ken sobbed while he clutched the cat carrier even tighter in his arms.

“
I’m gonna hit its head,” Lenore said. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the task. “I’ll hit him until he doesn’t move, then we run to the house.”

She saw Ken nod wildly beside her. Lenore fought back fear and concentrated her attention on the zombie. Beyond the walking remains of Mr. Thames, she could see more zombies gathering around the accident, feasting on what was left of that poor girl in the car. It was only a matter of time before they saw Ken and Lenore.

Ken unexpectedly let out a frantic, awful noise and rushed Mr. Thames. He shoved Cher’s cat carrier into the old man’s chest, toppling him over. The zombie tried to grab onto Ken, but her friend skirted away, clutching the carrier tight as Cher caterwauled angrily.

“
Hit him, Lenore! Hurry!”

Lenore danced around Mr. Thames’s grasping hands and smashed the butt of the shotgun down onto his head. It made a horrible noise as his skull shattered and dented in. Yet, he continued to grab at her. Lenore slammed it down a second time and busted in the front of Mr. Thames’s face. It was shocking to see his features vanish beneath her blow in a gout of blood. She hit him one more time and finally he stopped thrashing.

“
Run! Run! Run!” Ken screamed. He turned and ran.

A swift look down the street told the horrible story. The zombies had seen them and were coming. Some struggled just to walk, while others easily leapt up and started to sprint toward Lenore.

Lenore dashed after Ken. Her head swam a bit as she struggled to keep running in a straight line toward her grandmother’s house. Cussing under her breath, she clutched the empty shotgun tightly in her hands. She would not die today without a fight.

“
The blue house, Ken!” she shouted. “Run to the blue house!”

Ken darted across the lawn to the house and started banging on the front door.

Lenore forced breath into her painfully-constricting lungs, but it was getting harder to run. Her body felt so heavy and her head felt like it was about to fall off her shoulders.

“
Please, please, please,” she prayed.

She was almost to the front yard of the house when she heard the first gunshot. She let out a wheezing gasp and spun around to see that the zombies were still in pursuit. A few broke off the main pack toward Tito Hernandez, Olympia’s son. Her grandmother’s best friend was nowhere to be seen, but her son was on the lawn of her home firing at the zombies. He was snarling out cusswords in Spanish as he deftly fired at the running crowd. His short form was rippling with muscles and sweat beaded on his tan skin. His short black hair glistened wetly from the oil he always used to slick it back and his sunglasses hid his dark eyes.

“
Run, Lenore, run!” He continued to fire and reload calmly.

The zombies fell beneath his bullets, but there were at least five still heading straight for him.

Ken continued to bang on the door. “Let us in! Let us in!”

Lenore reached the walk up to the house and huffed and puffed her way up to the steps. Checking over her shoulder, she saw the zombies struggling to maneuver over the white picket fence bordering the Hernandez house. The zombies had forgotten about Lenore and were focused on the Hispanic man. Tito continued to pick them off one by one. He was coolly efficient and brutal with his accuracy.