Patrick D'Orazio - Coming the Dark

“I guess you didn’t finish it off.” The sudden jolt of hitting the Humvee had allowed Megan to regain some of her senses. Her arms were crossed as she chided Jeff.

He smiled and began to accelerate. “Got it covered.” The next thump had a more sickly sound to it when they ran over the body again. Megan shivered involuntarily as a wet, greasy popping noise completed the effect. The revulsion was short-lived, and she focused on the group in front of them. They were closing on the minivan.

“Brace yourself.”

Megan gripped the edge of the dashboard with both hands as Jeff floored it, heading straight toward the wall of flesh in front of them. The impact was surprisingly quiet. The rotters were spread out, and Jeff managed to avoid one, nick two, and only plow head-on into the final three. One was so ripe and bloated that it exploded like a balloon, spreading its insides over the front of the vehicle.

Megan watched the ghastly pseudo-human disintegrate, eyes bugged out. The head must have been mush to begin with, because it did not sound or look like any bones shattered on impact. It was a pinata with eyes, but instead of candy, it was filled with a brackish jelly that ran in thick ropes down the window. Megan tried to bend over, to get some blood to her head. She felt dizzy and nauseated. Her seatbelt locked, forcing her to stay upright. Acid splashed up from her stomach and caught in her throat, bits of the chips she had eaten that morning revisiting her mouth.

Jeff nailed another stiff dead-on, and its head thumped hard against the hood before it was sucked under the vehicle. The last one, the one closest to him, was the tallest of the trio, and the point of impact was at its midsection instead of its chest. Its legs connected with the bumper and were crushed on impact, though it seemed unconcerned as its right arm landed next to the side view mirror. It latched onto it and pulled itself onto the windshield directly in front of Jeff. Its other arm clawed at the window.

It glared woefully at the driver. One of its eyelids was gone, along with a good chunk of the bushy brow above it. The lower lip was in tatters, now just a ribbon of flesh that had gone green with some sort of bacterial growth. The ghoul pressed the ragged flap of skin onto the window’s surface and formed a ring on the glass. Jeff watched, hypnotized, as its shattered, yellow teeth drew little lines on the windshield when the lips opened and closed. A blackened tongue darted between them, depositing soupy globs of saliva on the glass.

Jeff’s skin rose up in almost painful goose bumps as if the tongue were licking and caressing him instead of the window. He resisted the urge to flip on the windshield wipers and spray the freak with wiper fluid.

Fortunately, the ghoulish man was weak and began to slide down the hood almost immediately. Its mouth remained attached to the glass like some sort of leech, leaving a slug trail of bile behind it, until the body fell and slipped under the front wheel, where the last of its life force was squished out of its mangled entrails.

Jeff hit the gas and weaved between more bodies and other obstacles as they moved down the road. Megan was still holding onto the dashboard as she stared at the floor, gulping down the recirculated air that held only a taint of corruption from outside.

“That was fun,” she mumbled under her breath, her head still firmly planted between her outstretched arms.

They were coming to another intersection. The military vehicles had begun to thin out, and there were none up ahead. The road was actually clear for a small stretch. There were two gas stations situated across from one another, both with fast food joints connected to them. One was a McDonald’s, the other a popular local chili joint. Megan’s stomach growled, and she gagged. Her hand slammed over her mouth and she fought the urge to vomit once again.

Jeff reached out but retracted his hand before he could rub her back in comfort. He wasn’t sure how Megan would react to his touch, and he watched helplessly as she fought to keep the small amount of food she had eaten down. He relaxed slightly when she seemed to gain control, though she was still breathing hard and staring at the floor.

Jeff looked back outside and studied the area into which they were moving. Paying little attention to the buildings, he instead focused on the strands of concertina wire that ran from the front edge of one of the gas stations to the other across the road. A few Jersey barriers ran the gap, and wire was pinned to each, running for several feet between each concrete roadblock. It ran the entire width of the road and into the parking lots. Some of the wire had fallen, either cut or smashed. The gaps created were big enough to drive a car through. In other places, it still held, and several of the infected had cut themselves to ribbons trying to get through it. Various spots ran red with blood, and chunks of flesh hung like streamers from the razor wire. As the minivan got closer, the engine seemed to agitate the ghouls near the wall, and they began to move as one toward the vehicle. Several shambled through the open gaps while others became tangled in the wire. They fought against it, ignorant of their predicament as they only entangled themselves further. Jeff had to look away rather than watch the razor wire cut deeply into their flesh. The rest of his view was equally unpleasant, as he saw more dead bodies scattered throughout the area. Some were sprawled on the ground, while others dangled over the concrete barriers.

“Which way are we going?” Megan mumbled in a faint voice.

Jeff pressed harder on the gas. Steering the wheel to the right, he turned onto Gallatin Road, the town’s main street.

“The local schools are down this way. That’s probably where any emergency shelters were set up,” he said, glancing over at his passenger. Some normal color had returned to her face, and she no longer looked like she was going to barf on the floorboards. “I figured we should check them out.”

Megan nodded and looked out the window. The houses on both sides of the street showed signs of severe damage. That captured her attention more than the abundance of infected roaming the area. She furrowed her brow and looked from house to house. Back in Milfield, the damage had been random, chaotic. Not so in Gallatin. Every home here was in bad shape.

Clots of stiff-legged figures spilled from doors and windows to take random swipes at them. Jeff almost laughed as one of the figures toppled over on a driveway from its efforts to grab them even though it was nowhere near close enough.

Megan looked away from the houses and their occupants and stared at the street. There was plenty of shattered glass and blood splashed on…everything. Bones were strewn and piled everywhere, and the cars that lined the road looked as bad as the houses.

“I think…I think maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

Jeff focused on the road, and kept them moving at a slow and steady pace, not fully catching Megan’s hesitant words. Megan twisted around in her seat for a better view of the infected following them. There was no consistency to their movement, no efficiency. Still, there was a form of symmetry to it. All eyes were locked on the van like it was a homing beacon. Their arms were elevated as they reached out toward their prize. She was amazed at how quickly they fell into a line behind the van. More came from the sides of the road when the vehicle passed, crawling over one another, desperate to get close. The minivan continued to roll down the road, and the crowd behind grew larger.

Jeff pressed the gas a bit harder, and the crowd fell back. The van rolled over a small hill, and the squalid mass dipped out of sight, though there were still more joining it as they drove on.