Zomb-Pocalypse 3 (16 page)

Megan wrinkles her
nose. “It’s going to be a huge, disgusting mess. I wish there was another way,”
she says, and Ryan and I go quiet as we try and think our way through it.

There is only one
way to get downstairs, but if we can find another way to get down and draw the
zombies outside, we could shoot them out on the grass and save ourselves a huge
headache later. We want to be able to stay in the cabin, so we should
definitely try and eradicate the zombies with the least amount of damage. True,
zombie guts don’t exactly mean you have to refinish the floors, but stray
bullet holes might, and who really wants to be up to their elbows scrubbing
black zombie jelly out of the rug?

“We need to find a
way to get down there,” Ryan says, pointing to the mass of destroyed bodies
below, and Megan peeks over the edge.

“You could
probably jump; it would be a soft landing,” she says, and I’m not one hundred
percent certain she isn’t joking.

It’s obvious we’ve
all reached the same conclusion, but none of us have thought of a way to get
down from this second story rooftop.

“Only one of us
needs to get down,” Ryan says, thinking out loud. We all turn to him in
surprise.

“What?” Megan
asks, not following, and neither am I.

“Only one person
needs to get downstairs to be the decoy. They’ll have to draw the zombies out
and lead them far enough away from the house so that we can shoot them. It’s
going to be a super dangerous job, but whoever stays behind can shoot them from
the upstairs spare-bedroom window overlooking the driveway.” The spare-bedroom
he’s talking about is Hank and Natalie’s old room, no one mentions their names,
but I still think about them all the same, and my skin erupts in goose bumps.
Now is not the time to think about the people we know who didn’t make it.

“How will the
decoy get down there?” Megan asks, and I think about it for a minute before
running over to my backpack. I start pulling everything out until I find
exactly what I’m looking for—a long chunk of rope. It was one of the many weird
things Silas insisted I carry, though it doesn’t seem very weird now, more like
a last minute Hail Mary pass.

“I have rope,” I
crow, even though they already know because they’ve been watching me tear my
pack apart for the last five minutes.

“Holy shit, you
just saved us,” Megan says, giving me an honest to goodness smile.

“I’ll go down the
rope,” Ryan volunteers instantly, but Megan shakes her head.

“I think it should
be Jane,” she says, making my heart stutter in my chest. It wasn’t that I
wasn’t going to volunteer, Ryan just beat me to it, but it feels a lot
different to have someone volunteer you for a life or death job.

“Megan...” Ryan
starts to say, with a frown on his face. “I think you need to put your personal
feelings aside,” he tells her, and my ears perk up. Does she really hate me
that much that she wants to dangle me from a string and sacrifice me to the zombie
Gods?

Megan flushes in
anger. “Don’t be an idiot,” she snaps at Ryan. “I’m not suggesting Jane to be a
bitch. She is the best choice. We need to send our weakest link.” She glances
across at me and shrugs. “No offense,” she offers, but I don’t accept her
apology, I just cross my arms across my chest. “You’ve gotten good at shooting,
but you aren’t as skilled as Ryan or I,” Megan points out.

“Still...” Ryan
starts to say, but Megan cuts him off again.

“This is going to
take precise shooting, or the person down on the ground could easily be shot by
a stray bullet.” Megan levels a no-nonsense stare at me. “Can you guarantee
that none of your shots will go wide and accidentally hit the wrong target?”
she asks, and I really want to say yes, just to spite her, but she’s right. I’m
still just a novice, no matter how much practice I’ve had today.

“I’ll go then,” my
mom offers, and my heart drops. There is no way I can let her go rappelling
into danger like that.

“No,” Megan tells
my mom, and I think both my mom and I are a little taken aback by her tone.

“The person on the
ground still needs to know how to shoot and protect themselves.”

“I’ll do it,” I
say before my mom can argue further and ends up getting herself eaten by a
zombie. Megan nods approvingly, and I get the impression that she’s proud of
me, rather than gleeful I’m going to be the zombie bait.

Ryan looks like he
still wants to argue, but since we aren’t really in our non-relationship,
relationship anymore; he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. “Silas wouldn’t like
it,” he tells me, and I shake my head.

“That is where
you’re wrong,” I tell him, knowing in my heart that I’m right. “He wouldn’t
like it, but if I was the best option... He would let me do it. He’s always had
faith in me that I was capable, that I could fight just as well as anyone
else.” I walk over and fill my holster with spare rounds and an extra gun,
trying not to notice that Ryan looks like a little boy that’s just received a
scolding.

I didn’t mean to
lay into him, but he shouldn’t have tried to use Silas against me like that
either.

“Let’s tie the
rope to the chimney,” Megan suggests, and they make sure it’s solidly knotted
before tying it around my chest and underneath my arms. I give Sunny and my mom
each a hug, and then I do something completely terrifying. I sit on the edge of
the roof and allow myself to jump into nothingness.

I feel myself free
falling for a moment, and then Mom, Ryan, and Megan get control of the rope and
they jerk me to a stop, grunting at my weight as they slowly let a little bit
of rope down at a time. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and its pounding
fills my ears, so I have no idea how I still manage to hear Sunny call out a
warning to me.

“Zombie!” she
shrieks, pointing down, and I follow her line of sight to a lone zombie that
has stumbled up unobserved and is waiting underneath the rope with his arms
outreached hopefully. I grab my gun from my holster, praying I don’t do
something idiotic like drop it by accident, and then I aim carefully, not
wanting to shoot myself in the foot, and pull the trigger. My bullet punches
through the very top of the zombie’s head and he instantly crumples to the
ground. I scan the area, not daring to put my gun away again—but thankfully I
don’t see any more flesh eaters.

When I hit the
ground, landing in a disgusting pile of reanimated human remains, I grimace as
my boots sink in past my ankles. I try to figure out the knot in the rope, but
my weight has caused it to become inhumanly tight, so I reach into my belt,
pull my knife out, and saw it apart instead. I don’t have time to sit around
and mess with an overly complicated series of knots.

I look up at the
group on the roof staring down at me, and Ryan gives me the thumbs up. “Be
careful,” my mom whispers, but I don’t reply. I don’t want to attract a bunch
of zombies until I get to the zombies I’m supposed to be attracting. I tuck my
knife back at my hip and clench my gun in my hand so hard it actually hurts—I
think I’ve actually developed blisters from shooting so much today.

I push my
curiosity about the blisters out of my head, for now, and focus on the task at
hand as I creep towards the corner of the cabin. I don’t encounter any zombies,
though I do have to step over quite a few corpses until, finally, I’m only a
couple feet from the front door. I can hear the zombies milling around and
moaning inside, and the occasional tinkle of breaking glass.

My intestines
quiver in fear, but I try to ignore the feeling as I force myself to walk up to
the open cabin door. I keep expecting a zombie to stumble out any moment and
try to take a bite out of me, but it doesn’t happen.

I stand in the
doorway and stare in at the gong show that was once our living room. There are
zombies milling around everywhere, and it is utter chaos.

Despite the fact
that I’m a fully fleshed, live human being, none of the zombies seem to notice
me right away. That will never do.

I reach out my arm
before I lose my nerve, and I pound my fist against the heavy wooden door,
drawing the attention of every zombie in the room.

“Knock, knock
mother fuckers,” I yell, unintentionally using a cool line that sounds like
it's something off of the movie
Die Hard
. The zombies turn as one with
an awful snap of their jaws, and I spin and jump off the porch, stumbling a
little on a rock, but I manage to right myself, and then I’m running for my
life.

Chapter Fifteen

I glance over my
shoulder and see that the zombies have taken the bait. They are filtering out
of the house like a slow ooze. I quickly turn back around and concentrate on my
steps. I don’t want to risk tripping and falling down.
It would be too
easy to twist my ankle out here, and that would be it. I feel hyper aware of
everything. Unlike earlier today, when I was in danger but I was still separated
from the zombies by the walls of the house, this is one hundred percent a life
or death situation. If I screw up, I will die.

I’m getting too
far ahead of the zombies, and it takes all I have to actually stop running and
turn back around. I stop just outside the driveway and wave my arms at them.
“Come and get me!” I yell to keep their attention focused on the task at hand.

The zombies growl
with renewed vigor, and I start to see a few of the front zombies fall and not
get back up. I glance up at the second floor window and see Ryan and Megan
leaning out with their guns jumping as they fire round after round into the
crowd below. Over the moans of the dead, I can’t hear the pop of their muzzled
pistols, but I can sure see the results—the zombies are dropping like flies. I
see Megan and Ryan start motioning towards me, waving their arms with a fury,
and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. I spin on my heels and am
confronted by a huge zombie that’s just lumbered out of somewhere.

“Aarghhh!” I yell
as I raise my gun and fire pointblank into his big open maw. The force of the
blast sends him stumbling backwards to the ground, but I didn’t take him out.
He’s still twitching, and I realize my shot has ripped off his tongue and
harmlessly gone out the back of his mouth. I curl my lip up in disgust at the
image before me. Most of his teeth are blown out and some have imbedded on the
inside of his cheek. You might think that is the worst part, but the worst is
the way his little stump of a tongue is wagging back and forth leaking black
goo. I aim my gun a little higher this time and plant the bullet neatly through
his forehead while he twitches on the ground.

I do a three
hundred and sixty degree spin to make sure I’m not in any immediate danger.
Ryan and Megan have done a pretty good job of keeping the zombies from getting
to me, but a few have escaped their firing line. I know they won’t fire on them
now for fear of shooting me. I’ll have to take care of them myself.

My heart pounds
like crazy as I line up my shot and miss—damn shaking hands! I try again, and
this time I hit the ragged-looking zombie on the left. All I can hear is my
pulse hammering in my ears like a freight train rushing by, and I worry for a
minute that one of these days my poor heart is going to explode from all the
stress.

I take a deep
breath, trying to steady my erratic pulse, and take down the second zombie.
They are still streaming out of the door, and I hope that zombies instinctively
have a herd mentality and will keep following the leader because I can’t stay
here much longer. A few of the zombies from the neighbor’s cabin have caught
sight of me and have separated in hopes of an easier meal. It’s too dangerous
to let myself get boxed in on two sides—if any more zombies join the party, I
will be totally screwed.

I act on instinct,
raise my gun, and shoot a third zombie that’s creeping too close. Then I turn
tail and run. I head away from the cover of the trees; it provides too many
places for the dead to come lurching out of. So I run towards the lake instead,
where it’s wide open. The field is littered with corpses, and I skirt around
them, worried some of them might not be completely dead. It’s like a minefield,
so I change course again. I don’t want to survive this long just to get bitten
by a zombie that’s already been taken out of commission.

Once I’ve
distanced myself enough to get a little bit of a breather, I turn to check out
my situation. My first instinct is to run from the six zombies limping towards
me across the field from the neighbors’ cabin, and I actually take several
steps in the opposite direction before I force myself to stop. It’s everyone’s
job to take out the threats, and if I leave them for someone else to deal with,
then I’m not doing my job. I grip my pistol so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t
turn to dust in my hand, and then I force myself to walk towards them.

My legs shake with
fear, but I have a brief window to accomplish this before the zombies behind me
catch up. My steps turn into longer strides, and then I’m jogging. The zombies
probably think they’ve won the lottery as I run towards them like a crazy
person.

When I get close
enough to see the gory details, I stop and raise my pistol, firing rapidly
until it clicks empty. In my fear, I’ve missed two and wasted a lot of bullets,
but at this point I don’t care. I just want this to be over. I quickly reload
and take down the remaining two. I feel a hand on my shoulder and let loose a
girly scream as I spin and come face to face with Silas.

He pushes my gun
down and wraps me in a hug, and my dad is right behind him. “Get in the truck!”
Barry yells from the driver’s seat. I look back and see a small group of
zombies trailing after the truck. Dad jumps in the backseat and moves over so I
can follow him, but I slam the door shut and hop in the very back with Silas. I
know Dad won’t be happy about it, but I can’t just sit and be a passenger while
Silas does all the work.

I see my dad
frowning at me through the back window, but he doesn’t stop the truck and
demand I get inside the cab where it’s safe. “What in the hell are you doing
out here?” Silas asks as soon as the truck picks up some speed.

“They got into the
cabin,” I tell him and watch his face take on a look of trepidation. He wants
to ask if everyone is okay, but at the same time he dreads the answer.
“Everyone is fine, or they were when I left,” I reassure him.

“So why did you
leave?” Silas asks, not connecting the dots at all. I can’t really blame him, I
haven’t been making a lot of sense.

“We were going to
shoot them over the railing, but then we didn’t want to clean up the mess
afterwards. So we made a plan and they lowered me down the side of the house
with a rope and I was the bait to draw the zombies out of the house so Megan
and Ryan could shoot them,” I say in a rush. Silas’s face gets angrier the more
I talk, so I just stop.

“Did you seriously
risk your life just so you wouldn’t have to clean too much?” he demands, and I
frown. When he says it like that, it really does sound stupid. I shrug
helplessly. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. We had even been trying
to save Silas some work, but he would never consider that a good enough reason.

“Let’s just finish
this up,” I suggest as I raise my gun and take aim at the nearest zombie. I
actually make the shot, and I hope seeing how much my skill has improved will
make Silas less mad that I did something crazy.

Silas doesn’t
answer me, but he raises his gun, and the loud retort of his pistol makes me
want to cringe and cover my ears. I don’t, though, because he would probably
just mock me.

It takes another hour of shooting before we eradicate all the zombies left out
in the field. We pull up in front of the cabin, or as close as we can get
because we can’t park in the driveway anymore—too many bodies all over the
ground. Silas and I jump down from the back of the truck at the same time Regg,
Barry, and my dad pile out of the cab.

“Let’s keep our
eyes open,” Regg warns unnecessarily. We already have our guns up and our eyes
peeled. I try to step around the bodies, but it isn’t easy. I think my count of
twenty was way off; there has to be at least forty bodies out here.

“I can’t believe
how many of them there are,” I whisper to Silas, and he gives me a sharp nod.
He agrees, but he wants me to zip it, at least until we can assess the
situation.

My eye is drawn to
the slight play of shadows just inside the door, and I quickly point it out to
the rest of the group. “Don’t shoot, it’s just me,” Ryan calls out, and I sag
in relief. The house must be clear if they’re wandering around downstairs.

I follow the
others inside, eyeballing the damage. The door jamb is completely wrecked, with
splintered wood sticking up everywhere. I don’t mind the splinters so much,
except everything is covered in zombie gore. They must’ve poked themselves
while they were smashing the door down. I shudder and stay far away from the
dangerous pieces of wrecked wood and nails—everything is highly infectious.

“Is everyone
okay?” Silas asks, and Ryan nods as he cranes his neck to check me for damage.

“Are you okay?” he
asks.

I nod, and he sags
in relief. The blockade is still in place over the stairs, so Ryan must’ve
climbed over. I see Megan, Abby, and my mom poke their heads up, and they beam
when they see we are all still in one piece. My mom starts pushing the couch
out of the way, and Abby and Megan join her. Silas and Regg get to work
clearing the bottom of the stairs, and then my mom is downstairs squeezing me
half to death. She only releases her python-like grip on me to do the same
thing to my dad.

“I was so
worried,” she tells us. I look up and see Sunny creeping down the stairs. I
open my arms wide and she comes running, nearly knocking the breath out of me
when she hits my ribs hard.

“I can’t believe
we all made it through,” Barry says, and for once Barry and I are on the same
page.

We look around at
the destroyed door frame and the disaster that the zombies left behind in the
cabin. Everything is knocked off of everywhere and most everything else is covered
in a thin layer of goo. “Where in the hell do we even start?” Ryan asks, and we
all shake our heads.

I reach over and
check the watch on Megan’s wrist. It’s almost four in the afternoon—we don’t
have a lot of daylight left to do anything at all.

“Howdy neighbors,”
I hear a deep voice call out. We all spin to see a gigantic man standing in the
doorway, his ham-sized fist raised to knock against our completely destroyed
door.

I see Regg’s hand
creep towards the handle of his pistol as he strides over and offers the big
man his hand. “I’m Chad Regg, previous Sergeant in the United States Army,”
Regg says as the two shake hands.

“Jack Gunner.
Private First Class,” the big man says, snapping to attention to salute Regg.

“At ease,
soldier,” Regg says with a slight smile on his face. It’s obvious that he is
delighted to come across a fellow Army man. “We aren’t in uniform here,” he
says, and the other man’s face falls a little at the reminder of everything
they’ve lost.

“That was some
mighty fine shooting,” the guy says, turning to study us all—his face registers
shock, probably to see that our numbers mostly consist of teenagers. He catches
Sunny’s eye and gives her a sad smile before turning away. “You guys really
saved our bacon,” he tells us, and I suddenly recognize his profile. He was one
of the neighbors on the roof.

“Well your
shooting last night saved ours,” my dad says, coming forward to shake the guy’s
hand. “We hadn’t even realized what was happening until the kids heard you
shooting. Jack gives my dad a jovial smile.

“I just wanted to
come over here and thank ya’ll.” He pauses for a minute like he wants to say
something but needs to steel his nerve. “Ya’ll didn’t seem like you were the
friendly sort. You never came over and introduced yourselves, so we just gave
you some space...but in light of what happened today...”

“I think we all
need to start working together if we’re going to survive,” Regg says,
interrupting him, and Jack nods.

“That is exactly
what I was trying to say. Thanks, Sarge.”

“I agree with
that,” Regg says, nodding his head and looking thoughtful.

“We didn’t mean to
come across as unfriendly; we just had so much prep to do...” my dad tries to
explain, and Jack nods.

“I know what you
mean. It’s gonna be tight with that first snowfall breathing down our necks,”
he stops and motions around the cabin. “And now this.”

“Did you...lose
anybody?” Regg asks, and Jack shakes his head.

“Not today,” he
says mysteriously, but I don’t think any of us want to pry. “We just got up on
that roof and didn’t budge—would’ve been a different story without you guys
though.

“We didn’t lose
anyone today either,” Regg tells him, and Jack looks relieved.

“I’m mighty glad.
Some of the others weren’t as lucky,” he tells us, and my heart sinks.

“Others?” Barry
asks in confusion, and Jack nods.

“The people in the
other cabins. I saw the guy right next door to us open up his door to look out,
and they were overrun before I could even shout out a warning.” Jack stops to
cross himself. “The other cabin further down had their door knocked in around
dawn, and they didn’t make it either—they were all nice folks,” he says,
making me feel super guilty for never taking the time to get to know them, or
see if they needed any help.

We all stand
awkwardly, none of us saying anything as we each think our own personal, heavy
thoughts. “I’m going out,” Silas says suddenly, probably feeling uncomfortable
in the emotionally charged room