William Rose - The Dead & Dying

At one point, I looked back over my shoulder and saw they were so close that I could see a little Hello Kitty on a piece of the clothes that was stuck to the kid monster.

They’re gonna get me, they’re gonna get me, they’re gonna get me …

I just kept thinking that over and over and it seemed like every time I would look back they would be just a little bit closer.

Next thing I know, I was falling cause I had tripped over a root or rock or somethin’. I landed on my knees and fell forward but was only on the ground for just a second. I was racin’ to get to my feet as quick as I could when I felt something on my tee shirt, a kind of tuggin’ or pullin’.

I screamed and started runnin’ again and heard a ripping sound. Next thing I know half my shirt is gone and briars were scratchin’ my chest as I ran by.

I knew what had happened, that one of them had almost had me, and wondered if it was still holding my shirt as it chased me. But I didn’t want to look back again, didn’t want to know how close they were now or take the chance that I would trip again.

I had started scramblin’ up the side of a hill when I saw a little cave up ahead. It was a lot smaller than the one Mommy and me had slept in but I thought it was big enough for me to get into but not enough for them to follow.

As soon as I got to the cave, I kinda dove into the entrance like a baseball player slidin’ in to home base headfirst. It was so small that I had to kinda wiggle ’cause the rocks were scrapin’ my sides and my back but I just kept crawlin’ forward.

If I coulda, I would’ve crawled right down to the very center of the earth. But, instead, I felt this hand grab my ankle and it was colder than any hand I had ever felt before, so cold that I could feel it all the way through my sock.

And then it was pulling me backward, back toward the entrance and I knew the moment my leg was outside it would all be over so I grabbed onto this rock with all my might and tried to pull myself farther back into the cave.

The monster was really strong and my fingertips began feelin’ like they were about to snap right off and I suddenly felt a warmth in my pants and smelled pee. But even that smell wasn’t as strong as the dumpster-like stink of the monster behind me.

My arms began shakin’ real bad and I kept holdin’ on to that rock and tryin’ to pull myself in the other direction.

Then I felt another hand pullin’ at the bottom of my pants leg and I knew that maybe I would be able to keep holding on if just one of them was pullin’ on me. But I didn’t know how long I would be able to stay in the cave once all three of ’em began pulling.

“Leave me alone!” I yelled at ’em. “Go away!”

But my yells only seemed to make ’em tug harder and next thing I know my fingers slipped from the rock and I felt myself being pulled backward, back toward the entrance of the cave and the three monsters waitin’ outside.

So there we were, trapped in the car: I looked over at Doc, ready to tell him how it had been a pleasure knowing him and that I wish we woulda met before the whole world turned upside down. But he had that look he sometimes got. His eyes darted from zombies making their way toward us to the road beyond them and I could almost sense excitement starting to rise in him.

“I got an idea, Carl. You still buckled in?”

“Yeah. What’s up? What you got in mind?”

Doc took the little cross that dangled from his neck and lifted the chain to his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment before kissing the pendant.

“It’s the bottom on the ninth, Carl. We’re down by one run and got one man on. No balls, two strikes, two outs. If I don’t hit a homer on this pitch, it’s all over…. ” With his eyes still closed, Doc reached for the ignition one last time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second. “Please…. ”

The original freshy from the bridge was close enough now that I could see the rage in its eyes, that burning hatred that seemed to fuel its existence.

Leaning out the window, I pulled the pistol from the glove box and took aim. Two squeezes of the trigger and one sulfuric-smelling cloud of smoke later, the zombie’s head dropped with a wet smack to the concrete below.

Doc turned the key and the car rumbled to life; but it was a life sort of like the ones most of those things out there lead: sluggish, nothing more than an shadow of its former existence really, and destined to succumb to the ravages of wear and tear in a relatively short period of time.

“Hot damn! I think we can avoid those rotters.” Doc shouted, “But we gotta do something about the freshies or else this car starting doesn’t mean jack.”

I could tell he wasn’t so much talking to me as working out his thoughts, so I stayed quiet and let his mind work.

“You pick off those freshies quick as you can, Carl. If your aim is good and this works out the way I think it will, we just might stand a chance.”

Before I could respond, Doc threw the transmission into drive and stomped his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward and, for one sickening moment when I felt as though my stomach had just plummeted into some bottomless abyss, I was positive it was about to shudder to a stop again. The engine coughed and wheezed, sputtered, and then roared to life again.

We were speeding toward the next freshy as it continued its mad dash toward us, the distance closing with each passing second. Leaning slightly out the window, I tried to steady my hand and pulled the trigger.

Rather than shattering the damn thing’s skull like I had intended, the bullet slammed into its shoulder, causing it to spin around for a moment like some bizarre ballerina.

“Damn it, Doc, this car’s shakin’ too bad.”

The knocking from the engine was now so loud that I could barely hear the sound of my own voice and that dang corpse was so close that I could clearly make out the blood splattered Nike logo emblazoned on its shirt.

Doc slammed on the brakes, the tires squealing like a band of demons loosed from the gates of hell as the stench of burning rubber filled the air. Still leaning halfway out the window, I drew a bead, held my breath for a fraction of a second and pulled off another shot.

This time I hit my mark and couldn’t resist letting out a whoop as the god-forsaken thing slumped to the ground. Part of me wanted to take a moment to cherish the small victory, but I knew there were still two more barreling toward us, intent of exacting their rage before the rotters, who were just now beginning to shamble across the bridge, ever had a chance. Two more shots rang out, both as steady and true as if they were guided by the hand of God.

“That’s it for the fresh …”

But Doc was already laying on the gas again, his eyes narrowed into mere slits and jaw set in an expression of grim determination.

“Hold on tight, Carl, you hear me? Hold on!”

The crowd of rotters loomed before us like a wall of cadavers, packed so tightly together it was hard to see where one body ended and another began.

“We can’t break through ’em, Doc! There’s too many!”

The car thumped slightly as it bumped over the little ridge of asphalt where road turned to bridge. Fifty yards away now and I could smell the stench, sweet and greasy and sickening all at the same time, overpowering even the odor of exhaust and scorched oil, becoming trapped in my hair and clothes and nostrils.

The side of Doc’s mouth turned upward into a slight grin.

“Through? Who the hell said anything about through ?”

He jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right and we were suddenly racing toward the waist-high wall of the bridge. I opened my mouth, to cuss or scream or maybe just to make some wordless sound of fear; but before the breath had even left my lungs, our car smashed into the wall and we were flipping, the rear end lifting up and over, forward momentum carrying us over the little wall with the screech of metal on concrete vibrating through my teeth.