Patrick D'Orazio - Coming the Dark

As she continued to stare, he added a gentle “please” and thrust his hand at her emphatically. She looked as if she might rather bolt like a deer into the woods than touch it. Shaking her head, she began inching into her garage again.

Impulsively, Jeff dropped the bat and grabbed her by the shoulders. A small yelp passed her lips and her eyes bulged in terror. She made a weak effort to break free as he shook her.

“Hey! HEY!”

Her head turned toward the garage, and the hairs stood up on Jeff’s arms as he heard her moan. It sounded far too similar to the infected for his taste. He almost let go, fighting revulsion as she fought to break free. Instead, he strengthened his grip. A moment later, when his hand came up quickly and slapped her hard across the cheek, it surprised him almost as much as it did her.

The woman stopped struggling and moved her hand to where he had hit her. Her eyes glinted with full-blown terror as she stared at Jeff.

“Listen,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “We have about a minute until those things get here. I don’t plan on sticking around, and neither should you.”

Jeff gave her a tug, trying to usher her out of the garage. Still stunned, she followed for a couple of feet as if her legs were disconnected from the rest of her, moving of their own volition. He turned her to face the street. She nearly stumbled but kept her feet under her as he stabbed a finger up the hill.

“See! Here they come!” he practically screamed in her ear. The sharp words appeared to have a stronger effect than the slap did.

The infected had closed much of the distance, making steady progress down the hill. A few had fallen and disappeared beneath the steady churn of feet. There was no concern for the lost ones as the others continued trudging toward the van. They tripped and staggered over torn limbs and dragging entrails. Even at a distance, the two survivors could see the mold and rot gripping the festering forms. Tattered pieces of clothing stuck like patchwork to their bodies, saturated and caked with dirt and fluids not easily identified. On the whole, they were sexless. A few strands of hair floated like a halo on a woman’s head, and a few tattered breasts were on display, but most were too mutilated to make any distinctions. Many had distended bellies filled with bits and pieces of those they had mauled and devoured. It was a twisted parody of pregnancy, and it went even further in making them all look similar.

Jeff wrenched the woman around to face him and forced her to look into his eyes. “Please. Come with me.” The words, spoken precisely and with special effort to hide the unhinged terror he was starting to feel, hung in the air between them. He could see the turmoil on her face as she debated whether or not to trust him. Her nod was so slight that he almost missed it when it finally came.

Relief flooded Jeff’s body at her response. He spared her a brief smile as he leaned down to pick up his bat. Retaining a grip on her hand, he turned back toward the van, dragging her behind him. He continued to fear the approaching horde, but was surprised to discover he was more concerned about having someone to watch over again. Someone who did not trust him and would probably run the first chance she got. The quicker he got her into the van, the better.

The weakened woman fought to retain her balance as they crossed her neighbor’s lawn at the corner of the street. As she glanced around, she could see not only the huge mass of bodies stumbling down the hill, but more infected coming toward them from other directions. She swung her head from side to side, watching for those that might be getting too close and tried to break into a run toward the van as panic set in. Jeff also noticed the newcomers, and he tightened his grip on the bat and on her shoulder simultaneously. There was too great a chance of her falling to the asphalt in her weakened state to let go. They were running out of time.

As they got close to the van, he was forced to release her as he pulled the keys out of his pocket. He punched a button on the key fob and thanked the gods of modern technology for automatic sliding doors. It opened slowly, and the woman practically flew toward it.

Jeff made for the driver’s-side door and was reaching for the handle when something heavy smashed into his back.

Jeff’s feet got tangled up as he fell to his knees. Ignoring the jarring pain, he used his momentum to slide forward. He felt as though his heart were on the verge of exploding in fear from the sensation of the wet slap of a hand on his shoulder. He slammed into the front quarter panel and did his best to twist away from the assault.

The scream that the woman inside the van let out jarred him worse than his fall. As he went into a tuck and roll, Jeff could hear the grunt of his assailant as it tried to latch onto him again.

He somehow managed to elude the man’s grasp and bounce back to his feet. He backpedaled in an attempt to regain his balance, and when his feet finally gained traction, he found himself in front of the van. The catcalls and moans of the approaching crowd sounded close, but he was more focused on the homicidal madman three feet in front of him.

The rotter’s arms were ready to wrap him in an embrace, while its mouth worked at building up whatever counted as saliva to the infected. It lumbered forward, and Jeff feigned a move, committing to the effort but pulling back at the last instant. The creature overextended as it lunged for him and instead grasped empty air. It nearly toppled, but stutter-stepped and kept its balance. Jeff had managed to retain his grip on the baseball bat during his tumble, and he took a backhanded swing at the ghoul. It crashed heavily to the ground with a muffled thud after the bat connected with the top of its skull. Jeff knew the blow had only grazed it and did not hesitate. He adjusted his stance and brought the bat down again. Festering gray matter burst from its skull.

Looking up, Jeff could see that the crowd was only a few seconds away. He had no idea how he had missed the old man sneaking up on him but quickly wiped the thought from his mind. He rushed around the minivan, dove into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. He reached an empty hand toward the ignition and felt his entire body go cold with fear. The keys.

His mind raced, and he realized that they had been in his hand when he was attacked. He had kept hold of the bat but dropped the keys.

“Fuck!” Jeff screamed in a panic as he turned to leave the van only to spot three of the infected just a few steps away. There was no place to go. The van was surrounded.

“You dropped these.”

Jeff jumped at the timid voice. He spun his head, having forgotten about his passenger and thinking one of those lunatics had gotten inside the van.

When he realized who had spoken, he unclenched his fists. Seeing that she was holding his keychain in the palm of her hand, Jeff felt the urge to plant a big sloppy kiss on her lips. Instead, he grinned wildly and scooped up the keys, fumbling with them until his fingers found the long, slender key with the Honda logo on it.

He nearly let it fall through his fingers when the first fist smashed into the hood. Another ear-piercing scream from his passenger didn’t help, but he managed to hold on and jam the key home. Jeff barely waited for the engine to turn over before slamming the gearshift into drive.

The twosome was pushed back in their seats as the engine roared and the minivan nudged a cluster of bodies out of its way. The echo of arms, legs, and other body parts slapping on sheet metal was sickening. Spinning the steering wheel wildly, Jeff dodged random strays as best he could.

Clear of immediate danger, he let out the breath that he had been holding and slowed the van down. They were safe for the moment, but he knew as he peered at the rearview mirror that the angry mob would not stop chasing them. True to form, they were marching behind the van, trying to catch it.