Timothy Long - Beyond the Barriers

Coming around a bend, I realized I was close to the highway again. I shut down the high beams and slowed. I tried to weave over the road in an attempt to pick out any ghouls, but it was bare with the exception of trash and a couple of abandoned cars. A door on one car stood wide open, and an old, skeletal hand draped over the broken window frame. I avoided looking at it, slowing the car further as we came up on the site where we blew up the fuel truck.

I eased the car to a stop and left the engine running. Grabbing the assault rifle from the back, I opened the door with a quick glance behind then slid out.

The car’s engine purred along as I stepped onto the cold asphalt. The metal frames the engineers had put on the vehicle rattled gently, and I realized that when I was at speed, it probably sounded like a Mack truck from the outside.

I wished, once again, for night vision goggles, but I might as well have wished for an army at my back. I slapped the rifle’s stock to my shoulder and crept forward.

The night was cold, and I felt dread wash over me as I moved away from the car. It felt like a thousand eyes were on me, just waiting for the signal to run in and tear me limb from limb; mindless things ripping my flesh apart in an attempt to find some sort of life in my blood—the life they lacked.

I was about ten feet away when the headlights from the Honda revealed that part of the road was gone. Parts of the truck—a skeleton really—lay in a heap, like some god had picked it up and slammed it into the ground. I studied the road, and even broke out my small pocket light to walk the perimeter of the blast.

The hole wasn’t deep, but it was immense. I could imagine the volatile gas rushing out, as air fueled it into an explosion that mushroomed and swept anyone near it into the inferno. Sure enough, there were bodies everywhere—most looked like charcoal caricatures of life. I remembered seeing videos of the affects of nuclear weapons used in Japan.

Most had arms outstretched, as if they’d had their hands raised in supplication before being burned to a crisp. It must have been the blast wave that swept over them that made their arms fly up.

As I walked among the bodies, I saw one move—a subtle twitch that almost made me empty a magazine into it. Its mouth was open, and its eye sockets were black and crisped, while its lips pulled back over teeth covered in soot. The head jerked, and I almost screamed. Then the rat, upon sensing me, left the body it was gnawing on and scurried into the night. I watched the animal speed away and had a crazy thought. What if the zombie virus affected them?

Taking a deep breath, I tried to ignore my heart, which was beating a staccato pattern of desperation against my chest. It felt like it wanted to rip itself free. I backed up to the truck, and a howl in the distance set the hairs on the back of my neck at attention.

I slid back into the car and found a gun pointed at my head. Katherine had her pistol drawn and, ignoring the wound in her shoulder, kept that barrel just as steady as I had ever seen her hold it.

“How’s the road?” she asked as she lowered the piece.

“Fucked.”

“What’s plan B?”

“You’re assuming I have a plan. I think we’ll head for my house. I have some supplies stashed.”

“Oh good. I always wanted a nice man to take me home. I hope you have a giant bottle of Vicodin.”

I reversed the car, turned around, and took a side road.

We pulled into a scene I had not expected. Granted, it wasn’t the idyllic neighborhood where kids play, families stroll, streets are clean and swept, lawns mowed, trash cans left on the curb. Still, it was far from the chaos I had anticipated.

When the world went to shit, I thought for sure there would be roving gangs of people banding together, going house to house as they looked for supplies. My old haunt was barely touched. Sure there was crap in the streets, but for the most part, it was clean. There was no graffiti, no bodies in the streets, and no houses torn apart.

It was a while since I had been in this part of town. I took a turn, hoping it would look familiar. Instead of finding a block I knew, I found another endless row or cookie cutter houses. The sky ahead had an odd, orange glow. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out as I slowed to just a few miles an hour. It didn’t help my view but it brought the smell of smoke to my nose.

Something was on fire, something big. I stopped the SUV, and the door groaned from the added weight of the metal armor as it opened. After stepping out, I walked a good ten feet to see if I could make out what was on fire, but it was no use. It was around the corner.

I rolled forward very slowly. With the headlights off, the orange glow was my beacon. As I made the turn, I came into view of a house burning out of control. Cars were parked all over the front. One was a huge military transport that I thought was a Stryker.

Shit! This was not what I needed right now. Katherine was hurt. I needed to get to the old house and find my bag of supplies.

I was about to back up when a familiar figure came into view. He was standing on the sidewalk like a conquering general. The burning house lit his frame from behind. Tall, gaunt, and bald. The dead give away was those damn snakeskin boots that gleamed in the light of the fire.

It was Lee.

A pair of bodies laid on the ground. One of his men was going at one of them. I let out a gasp as I recognized what was happening. They were raping someone. The person on the ground fought, but didn’t seem to have much strength. She screamed and reached for the other person, but they didn’t move.

So this was what had become of Lee. He was letting his men rape and pillage like it was the middle ages.

“What’s happening?” Katherine had her eyes open, and she looked to be in a lot of pain.

“Remember Lee? The guy I have had a few run in’s with. He’s here, and his men are raping a woman.”

She sat up then groaned.

“Stay still.” I leaned over to check her dressing.

I placed my hand over hers and pressed. She winced and sat back in the seat.

“What are you going to do?”

I wasn’t even sure what I was planning. I had half a mind to shoot Lee. The gun was in my hand, and I would stand a pretty good chance if I stood up and opened the turret.

There was laughter from the men. At least a dozen, maybe as many as fifteen, were standing around watching the show. It made me sick, but what had I expected to find? People living together in harmony while the zombies were kept at bay?

I swore quietly then sat back in frustration. Slipping the car into gear, I rolled forward until I was a good twenty-five yards from the house. Reaching into the backseat, I came up with the assault rifle.

“Don’t.” Katherine snapped.

I stared at her for a few seconds in the pale light, then looked at the men and back at her. What could I do? I was one man and they were so many. It wasn’t fair, but I was helpless to stop what was going on.

“Hey!” One of the guys had caught sight of me. I should have backed up when I the chance.

Guns were pulled and leveled in my direction. With the armor plating, I was somewhat protected, but a stray shot or ricochet would kill me or Katherine just as easily as a direct shot. If I used the turret, I probably wouldn’t even get the gun out in time to fire back.

I tossed the M-16 in the backseat and drew my .45 as they came towards me. I backed up, but a couple of them broke into a trot. Then, to my horror, the military transport slid out and blocked my path.

“Shit!” I cried. Katherine had her gun out. Her eyes were wide open.

I would have to go through them.

Indecision made me hesitate. By then, they had stopped in front of the car and several automatics were pointed in my direction. Lee didn’t seem to think I was any sort of threat. He strolled toward my SUV like he was out for a Sunday walk.