Winter's Salvation (21 page)

             
Eric jumped over the car’s trunk and kicked the hips of the climbing ghoul.  It fell out of the window and onto its back.  He tried to force the back passenger car door open, but the zombie stuck to the roof stopped it from opening fully. 

“Drew you have to let go!”  He screamed.  He forced the door open again with a grunt and looked down at the boy.  Black blood, as thick as syrup, covered his face in smear marks and he had his eyes shut tight.  Eric leaned close to his face and talked softer and a little calmer, “Drew it’s me Eric.  Let go so we can get out of here.”  With this Drew was able to understand and released his grip of the crushed zombie. 

The door opened fully and jammed into the door of the car next to it.  The ghoul Eric kicked got up and grabbed hold of the door.  He grabbed Drew’s feet and pulled him out the passenger side.  Drew wiped his face franticly, “I can’t see.  I can’t open my eyes!”  He finally said after attempting to clean his face again. 

“Come with me!”  He had to scream over the groaning of the reaching ghoul.  He took hold of his arm and climbed back over the trunk.  The ghouls were close now and Eric had just enough time to grab his back pack with the rifle tied to it and Drew’s bag.   

He guided Drew over the next car and looked at the wave of undead coming up the bridge.  Between every other car were two or three ghouls making their way up the bridge and in spots where the cars created barriers they pooled and began to climb over the obstacle.  Every one of them was attracted by the noise and commotion they were creating.  The boy spit into his hands and tried to clean his face more, but the thick blood just continued to spread wider, now covering every inch of his face.  He spun his back pack around and reached in looking blindly for his water bottle.   

“You’re just gonna have to trust me.”  Eric said, “We’re gonna have to jump.”                

Drew tensed his body remembering they were at the top of the bridge.  “From up here?” 

“No, we can make it down a little, but,” The ghouls behind them caught up to them and reached at their feet, banging on the car they were standing on.  Eric pulled Drew closer to him, out of reach of the zombies, causing him to drop the water bottle he just found.  “We gotta move until we can get to where we can jump from the bridge.”  With that Eric pulled him down the front window and onto the hood and then hollered “Jump!” to get to the next one.  They did this until a clear row made by the cars presented itself.  Eric held onto his hand and Drew made sure he was directly behind him.  They got to the side of the bridge and was stopped by another set of parked and wrecked vehicles.  Eric took this moment to climb and look for another clear path, but no path was available that was free of any undead. 

“We’re going to have to jump from here,” Eric said and then jumped down.

“Give me some water, so I can clean my face.”  Drew patted at Eric’s back pack fumbling for the zipper.  Eric was about to give him his water bottle when they both jumped as a ghoul banged on a closed car window next to them.  Eric put his back pack back on fighting off Drew’s prying hands. 

He pulled him close to the side and looked over the guard rail.  The bridge was not as high as he figured and then looking back he had made it further down the bridge than he thought. 

“I need to clean my face I can’t jump.”  Drew said and then grabbed his pack again. 

“Where like twenty feet up.”  Eric was lying and looked back at the water.  It was closer to forty possibly fifty feet.  “I’ll scream hold your breath right before we hit.”  He stepped up on the side and straddled the guard rail.  He helped Drew guide his legs over. 

The boy’s fingers dug into his arms in sheer terror.  Eric put his legs over the side and Drew felt his movements and did the same.  Eric looked over the side again and now believed he may have grossly exaggerated the distance to the rolling water.  The sound of shattering glass made it easy for Eric and Drew to get over this sudden fear and they both fell.  Just before they splashed Eric screamed out,  “Now!”         

Chapter 11

Here Kitty Kitty

The road was quiet with the exception of the engine of the blue Chevrolet and Sam’s relentless screaming.  Her knees tucked into her chest and her hands gripped tightly together holding her legs close to her body as she continued to scream.  “Sam you’re ok now.  We’re far from that now.”  Naomi tried to sooth her, but nothing seemed to work, except for when she turned a corner a little harder than she normally would have and it knocked her off balance, causing her to lean toward her mother and catch
herself. 

Her screams were turning into hoarse cries before she had to regain her balance, and now she sat silent and looking off into the black side road past the head lights. 

They drove for almost an hour along old side streets and dirt roads that were only traveled by the local community.  Naomi had decided to go to Fuzzy Pop Pop’s house instead of her ex-husbands.  After seeing the news broadcast and witnessing, first hand, what the undead can do, she quickly decided against traveling to her ex-husbands apartment, so going to her fathers, Sam’s grandfather, would be the safer out of the two. 

There was no traffic or abandoned vehicles from Mr. Cook’s to Fuzzy Pop Pop’s neighborhood, but the closer the houses got together the more abandoned vehicles started to pile up.  They didn’t see any undead until they were forced to drive onto someone’s grass to get around a car that was stopped in the middle of the road.  There were no vehicles in front of it, but both of the front doors were
open and it looked as if whoever was in the car just jumped out in a hurry and left it behind.  That was until they got around it and saw multiple mauled bodies lying in a heap of bloody body parts and in the middle of it something was moving.  Sam quickly looked away and breathed in rapidly and deeply, as she saw a hand reach above the bodies as if it were trying to escape it’s fleshy cage. 

Fuzzy Pop Pop’s was just a few more blocks ahead and she was able to make out a group of cars that were stopped facing in every direction.  Naomi thought that the congestion was just past the street where her father lived, or at least she hoped.  This is the house she spent most of her high school years in.  She was very familiar with the neighborhood. 

As they slowed and approached the clogged street she realized that the congestion was right before her father’s street.  She decided to turn down the one before it.  Her plan was to drive down the block and come up the other way.  Making the left down the street she glanced at the houses on her left and saw four undead with their arms outstretched making their way across the corner lot’s lawn.  The engine roared a little louder now as her foot pressed the gas a little harder to put more distance between the approaching undead.  The streets were eerily quiet, but as she moved down the block, dark shapes began to appear from the shadows of open doors, and low hanging trees. 

At the end of the block she instinctively turned her right blinker on, as if she were driving in normal traffic.  She came to a stop when they were immediately blocked by parked vehicles in the middle of the road.  “Fuck,” Naomi said under her breath, but it was loud enough to wake Sam from her trance. 

Samantha looked straight ahead for the entire hour they were on the road, but never once acknowledged the fact that they were not going to her fathers.  Now she looked back and forth confused as to where they were.  “Where are we?” She asked with her sore throat and raspy voice. 

“Fuzzy Pop Pop’s is the street next to this one.  I think we may have to cut through one of these yards to get to it.”  Naomi was hesitant because she knew the backlash Sam was about to give her.

“I thought we were going to Dads?”  She cleared her throat and each word was forced.

Naomi expected Sam to explode, but did not know how to tell her any other way, “your fathers place has too many of them.”

“No!  You just don’t want to go there.  You don’t want to go because you think he would fucking take me with him instead of you.”  The last words were barely audible. 

             
“You need to start thinking about who the hell you are talking to.”  Naomi’s anger swelled in her, “I should leave your spoiled ass here.  I’m trying to get us someplace safe and all you can do is curse me and give me a hard time.”

             
“You hate him, you want him to die!”  Sam was screaming as loud as she could, but it came out as a raspy inaudible whisper. 

             
While Naomi faced her livid daughter something caught her attention out of the corner of the right side of her eye.  She turned and looked out the broken back window and saw ten undead walking down the middle of the street.  Then there came a groan that seemed to be louder than their argument.  Sam was still ranting incoherent whispers as the old Chevy was slammed into reverse.  “You need to shut up now.”  Naomi barked her command and Sam turned around quickly in terror, halting her barrage of insults. 

             
Naomi turned the wheel to the left and crashed the bed of the truck into a parked car behind them.  She turned the lights off, as the undead stumbled closer.  They began to groan with excitement.  That made them try to move faster, as they bumped against each other.  The zombie’s shadows reached into the passenger side window and wrapped around Samantha.  The moon was low and shined on the ghoul’s backs elongating their shadows down the street and into the truck. 

             
The interior lights shined and shocked their eyes for a split second as the driver’s side door opened.  Naomi fumbled with the radio and looked for a CD button.  She tried to stay calm, but years of not having a cassette tape player in any of her vehicles confused her until she was able to recognize the play button.  She took a leap of faith that Mr. Cook would have some type of tape in the player.  The button was pressed hard and the old familiar sound of the tape winding and beginning to play filled her with hope.  Quietly inside the truck Let It Be by the Beatles began to play.  The radio was turned up as loud as it would go and Naomi slid out of the vehicle.  She held her hand out for Sam as she turned to look behind her and felt her daughter squeeze it.  They both slid from the driver’s side door and jumped into the shadows of the parked vehicles. 

             
Zombies from the parked cars and from deserted houses started to emerge like hungry undead Beatle fans, as they made their way to the voice of Paul McCartney.  Naomi and Sam crouched between the front and back bumpers of two vehicles as ghouls walked past them, focused on the music coming from the truck.  Sam held onto her mother tightly breathing loudly.  Naomi tried to maintain her own breathing and was glad she turned the music up.  She was hoping the volume would drown her daughter’s frantic breaths. 

             
Naomi pressed her face against Sam’s and whispered, “We are going to run to the houses and cut through one of the yards to get to Fuzzy Pop Pop’s.”  She held onto her daughter’s hand.  “Are you ready?”

             
Sam did not respond, but looked up at her.

             
“Ready.  I won’t let go.”  She got up to a squatting position and looked over the hood of the car in front of her.  What she saw shocked her and made her legs weak.  When they ran from the truck, only a few undead could be seen, the ten from down the street and the few that passed them between the cars.  Dread washed over her and clung to her when she saw the small group had turned into a hoard of undead that easily numbered in the hundreds clawing and beating on the truck.  She immediately lost hope after seeing the mass in front of her.  Sam squatted as well and felt the same anguish as her mom did.  She looked toward the houses and then to their left.  Sam pointed in that same direction indicating that it was clear. 

             
Naomi acknowledged her and said, “It’s like the fourth or fifth house.”  She got up ignoring the pain in her neck and began to run.  The undead on the outside of the swarm turned and began to groan.  They were sprinting past them and something caught their attention and sent shivers down both of their spines.  A sound from the groaning mass resonated out louder than the entire horde.  A shrill, high pitched screech that sounded as if it came from the bowels of a demonic harpy came from the crowd. 

             
They continued to run, but both of them turned to look behind them.  Pushing over the undead that now faced them was a woman with blood matted hair that hardened and formed to her face.  She pushed her way through the crowd and took off in a crazed sprint toward them.  Naomi turned her attention to the houses and saw an open white picketed, six foot, privacy fence that was constructed between two houses.  It was short of their destination by a few houses, but it was going to have to do right now. 

             
The screaming ghoul was gaining on them quickly as it made precise steps over the ground, where as the lumbering zombies would easily fall into a small hole, this one quickly regained its balance and continued the pursuit after every misstep.