Escape (25 page)

When she came to a stop, she got to her feet and assessed her surroundings.

She’d made it to the ground in one piece.

Although the majority of the creatures had relocated, a few lingered, and they scrambled in her direction at the sight of her. Meredith withdrew her pistol and fired two rounds, striking the first in the head, the second in the arm. Without further hesitation, she broke into a run toward the pickup.

The shrieks of the creatures were even louder outside, and each one pierced her heart with a needle of fear. Within seconds, heavy footfalls thundered against the grass behind her.

She kept her eyes focused on the vehicle in front of her, knowing that she couldn’t afford to look back.

To stop moving was to die.

When she reached the truck, she fumbled with the key, trying to fit it into the lock.

Come on!

The noise from her pursuers grew louder. She found the opening and turned the key, listening to the door unlock. Then she grabbed the handle, wrenched it open, and jumped inside. No sooner had she shut the door than bodies slammed into the exterior. When she looked to the left, she saw three vacant faces staring through the window.

She locked the doors and started the vehicle. The engine purred underneath her, and she found herself filled with a new fear. What if the vehicle died?

Don’t think about that now, Meredith.

She threw the vehicle into drive and hit the gas, propelling the vehicle forward. The tires found purchase on something—either on asphalt or on limbs—and the vehicle roared up the driveway, slowly veering toward the grass.

She eyed the moving masses in the rearview. Even with the speed of the vehicle, she wouldn’t gain much ground on the creatures. As soon as the pickup stopped moving, they’d narrow the gap.

This isn’t going to work
, she thought frantically.

But it was too late. She’d already come this far. She had to try.

When she cleared the house, she saw where the bulk of the things were located—the majority of them were in the backyard. From inside, it’d been impossible to gauge how many of them there were. Now, she had a clear view of their situation. There had to be at least fifty of them. Things were looking grim.

The creatures pounded their fists at the boarded-up windows, their faces gnarled and gruesome. It looked like several pieces of wood had caved. She stopped the vehicle about twenty feet from the barn and honked the horn, keeping her eyes on the house. A few of the creatures began to follow the noise, but most remained in place. She needed to lure them away from the property, to the fields behind it.

“Come on!” she screamed.

She rolled down the window and stuck her head out. In the driver’s side mirror, she could see the things behind her getting closer.

“Over here, you pieces of shit!”

She waved her left arm out the window, pounding the horn with her fist. The creatures moaned louder, and one by one they fled the house and moved toward her. At this point she’d gained the attention of almost all of them. Once she’d led them far enough away, Dan, Quinn, and John could escape out the front.

Here they come. Be ready.

She glanced in front of her. The barn door was shut. She shook her head at her earlier idea. There would have been no way to corral the things inside.

She revved the gas, keeping one foot on the brake, watching the cluster of creatures grow closer. At this point they were almost on top of her. She eyed the fields off to her right. If she waited any longer, they’d be clawing at the pickup.

She was just about to take her foot off the brake when she heard an ear-piercing scream from the house. She turned her head just in time to see one of the boarded windows cave. Through the opening, she saw that Dan, Quinn, and John were still inside. Not one of them had escaped.

Behind her, a stream of creatures turned back for the house.

No! Wrong way!

Despite her efforts, Meredith had failed. The things swarmed the rear windows; a few wandered back to the front. The remaining creatures were closing in on the pickup, preparing to lunge. She had to move. She had to keep going. Dan’s words echoed in her head.

“
If things get bad, just keep driving.”

But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t leave them behind.

I need to do something. I can’t let them die in there.

She glanced back at the barn. There had to be something she could use inside, something to deter them. Out of nowhere, an idea struck her.

It was a long shot. Probably even more so than what she had just attempted. But they were running out of time, and it was all she had.

She had to act.

Meredith let her foot off the brake and barreled forward, crashing against the doors and caving them inward. She drove ten feet into the barn and ground to a halt. Then she threw open the door and leapt out, the engine still running.

Her pursuers were gaining ground. She could hear their feet plodding against the grass. The barn was dark and shadowed, but there was no time to turn on the lights. She moved forward by memory, skirting around an ensemble of lawn equipment and hay, and felt for the two things she’d come to find. Her hands finally graced the side of one of the objects. She grabbed the two five-gallon metal canisters and hefted them back to the car, then jumped inside.

The creatures had reached the barn entrance, and they crashed through the doors, as if sensing that their window of opportunity was closing. She heard hands on the back of the pickup, but before the things could progress any further, she slammed the car into reverse, knocking them backward. The vehicle rose and the tires crushed something beneath the tread.

Suddenly she was out in the open again. Dusk was closing in, and so was the horde.

Thank God she’d gotten to the propane. She just hoped Dan was as good of a shot as he claimed.

The back of the house was flooded with creatures. Meredith drove a few hundred from the barn, honking the horn, keeping an eye on the window where she’d seen her companions. In the rearview mirror, she saw a flood of the things chasing behind her.

This isn’t going to work. There’s no way.

She ignored her inner voice, filled with fear and doubt, and concentrated on leaving a buffer zone from the house. Even if she couldn’t get rid of all of the creatures, maybe they could get rid of enough to escape. When she’d reached a distance of several hundred feet, she stopped the vehicle and grabbed the propane. Then she jumped out of the truck and placed the canisters on the ground.

Dammit. She needed a lighter.

She dove back into the truck and tore through the glove box, remembering there used to be one in there.
Come on.
Where was it? She remembered seeing one—an old red one that her father used to use. She’d left it in the glove compartment, thinking it might come in handy some time.

And now that time had come.

She pushed aside several bundles of paperwork, finding nothing, and then suddenly it was in her hand. She grabbed hold of it and leapt back outside, fumbling with the canisters.

She opened each of the nozzles. With the gas was flowing, she flicked the lighter, lighting each one and watching the flame take hold. Once they were lit, she hopped back in the truck and looked back at the house.

The first-floor windows were empty. No sign of Dan. Where was he?

She watched as several of the creatures wormed their way through the open window where she’d seen her companions before.

Dammit!

A mound of creatures raced toward her. She scanned the upper windows, hoping for a glimpse of her brother-in-law, but there was none to be found. Chances were that he was preoccupied, battling the creatures that were trying to break in. If that were the case she was out of luck. Too late.

The creatures advanced, snarling and moaning. In seconds she’d be overtaken.

She let her foot off the brake, ready to move, ready to let the plan go.

And then a face appeared in the upper bedroom window. She saw a hand—Dan waving to her, motioning for her to move—and she hit the accelerator. He’d seen her. He knew what she was trying to do.

The pickup raced forward, and she hit the gas, knowing she had to gain as much distance as possible. Within seconds she’d traveled to the driveway. She kept her eyes glued to the rearview mirror, waiting for the explosion to follow.

She heard a gunshot. Then two.

At first there was nothing. The creatures that had been pursuing her—about fifty or so, from the looks of it—started to disperse. A pit formed in her stomach, and she fought to suppress it.

And then she heard it—an explosion that rocked the air.

She glanced into the rearview mirror. The lawn behind her had become a ball of flame, casting orange and yellow ripples across the property. She hit the brake and ducked down in her seat, unsure of how far the shrapnel would travel, fearing that the vehicle would be hit. From behind her, the creatures shrieked and groaned.

She remained low, hands shaking, unsure of what to expect.

Would it be enough to incapacitate the bulk of the creatures?

When the noise had subsided, she raised her head and peered behind her at the tattered lawn. The creatures had been decimated. Pieces of them were scattered across the grass; of those that remained, most were on fire. She watched them stagger sideways across the grass, their features melting under the lick of yellow flame.

A voice cried out in the distance, and she struggled to make out the words. She strained her ears, and suddenly the message became clear. It was Dan; he was shouting at her from the house.

“Swing the truck back around!”

Although she could barely hear him, she complied, yanking the wheel and driving back toward the explosion site. When she reached the vicinity, she kept to the perimeter of the yard—far enough away to avoid the burning creatures. Every few seconds the rifle clapped, and she watched the remaining creatures drop to the ground one by one, reduced to a mangled pile of skin.

When she reached the house, she pulled up to the broken rear window. Several creatures still milled about, and she fired off the remaining rounds of her pistol to hold them off.

Where were the others?

She stared through the opening, waiting for her companions to appear, but there was no sign of them. She glanced back into the yard. Though they’d incapacitated the majority of the creatures, they hadn’t killed them all. Several of the things were unscathed, and when they took notice of Meredith in the pickup, they ambled toward her.

“Come on!” she shouted through the window.

A few seconds she saw movement, and suddenly her companions were spilling from inside.

“Let’s go!” she shouted.

Dan and Quinn appeared first, John limping behind them. One of the roaming creatures tried to snag Quinn, but Dan fired off a shot, knocking it to the ground. The air was thick with smoke and flame, and the three of them coughed from the smell.

A second later they were throwing the doors open and jumping inside, filling the vehicle with smoke and sweat. Meredith hit the gas.

The pickup sprang to life, propelling them across the lawn and onto the driveway. Behind them, a cluster of fiery bodies danced across the lawn, knocking against one another like broken marionettes. Meredith blinked hard and forced herself to look away.

Once they were out of immediate danger, she glanced at the seat next to her.

Quinn sat in the passenger’s seat, her head buried in her lap. Meredith reached over and caressed the girl’s hair.

“It’s OK, sweetie,” she said with a smile. “We made it.”

30

“A
re you sure you’re OK with this, Meredith?” John asked. His face was lined with worry.

Meredith leaned on her shovel. Below her was the charred body of Paul Stevens, her old neighbor—the creature she’d seen at Ben and Marcy Sander’s house. He must have traveled to the farm at some point during the attack.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

It had been over a day since they’d left the farm. Meredith surveyed the backyard, which was still covered in bodies.

They’d been picking up remains for hours: hefting them into tarps, dragging them to the pickup, driving them to a remote corner of the lot. Meredith had insisted that they give the townsfolk proper burial.

No one had argued.

In order to spare Quinn from the gory scene, Dan and his daughter had remained at the Sanders house. Inside they’d found an assortment of blocks, puzzles, and dolls. After arriving, Meredith had recalled that the Sanders’ had had a niece; they’d probably kept the toys there for when she visited. In any case, they’d been a welcome distraction for both Dan and his daughter.

Meredith stuck her shovel into the blackened lawn and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. She looked over at John, who still held a look of concern.

“Do you think it’s over?”

“I hope we’ve seen the worst of it,” John said.

She let her gaze drift to the house. Although the downstairs windows were still boarded up, a few lights blazed upstairs. After all that had happened, it was a miracle the power was still on. She wondered how long it would last. With no one to maintain the power plant, it was possible that it would be cut off soon, but she was grateful for every moment they had it on.

“Are you sure you want to stay in town?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said. “I’m through running. From my family, from the infection, from you…”

She let her shovel fall to the dirt and walked over to John, and the two locked lips under the inviting rays of the sun.

“Thank you, Meredith.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a second chance.”