Timothy Long - Beyond the Barriers

“Let’s go, man!” Jack screamed. He plopped down in the back and tried to look everywhere at once.

There was a large-caliber machine gun mounted above us, but it wasn’t like the movies, where I could just hop on the gun and start firing. The gun had to be checked and loaded.

The soldier with us jumped in the back of the car beside Jack and fired as fast as he could, but we were surrounded. Scott sat down and handed me the MP5. “There are a few shots left. Make ‘em count while I get us moving!”

He cranked the keys, and the truck roared to life. I held the gun in unsteady hands and shot the zombies as they came at us. Another truck roared past us, with one of the dead hanging from the back while the gunner on the big .50 caliber tried to take aim. The driver turned, pulled a pistol and shot the thing in the face, but his car was pulled to the right, and he clipped our truck then ran off the road, into the bushes. They were swarmed in a matter of seconds, and their screams went on for a long time as they were eaten alive.

“So sick of this shit,” I muttered as our vehicle lurched forward. One of the dead was just ahead, so I stood up in the tiny space, held onto the front windshield, and shot him in the head. Scott swerved slightly, but we still pulped the zombie.

There were more of them ahead, at least a dozen, and we didn’t have enough momentum yet to escape them. If we were going thirty or forty miles an hour, we might be able to barrel through them, but we were at a crawl. Scott punched it and knocked a few out of the way. The soldier with us stood up, changed his magazine, and then started shooting at everyone ahead of us.

As we made our slow progress through the human barrier, we met with more and more resistance. The dead surrounded the car and reached for us, clawed for us. The stench of rotted meat was disgusting. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to shoot them or throw up. The rotted dead were everywhere, and I was once again struck by how obscene they were. The things were an abomination. Up until now, I had been willing to recognize that they had been us, they had been human at one time. Now they were just mindless monsters worthy of only a bullet.

I shot as many as I could, and we broke free. I was already starting to feel better, a new reserve of adrenaline welling up from beneath my exhaustion. Every muscle ached, but I was in my zone now. I had a weapon, and we had a vehicle.

As we broke through the last of the dead things, Lee caught up. I heard a thump and glanced behind, taking my eyes off the enemy for a split second. Lee was flopping in the back of the truck, trying to climb onboard with us. He had his upper body over the back of the vehicle and strained to get in.

The man who had helped us get to the truck leaned over the back of the seat to help Lee. His upper body hung to one side, one leg dangling over the edge of the spot where the rear door should have been. One of the zombies got lucky. They grabbed his foot and tugged, pulling the man off balance.

Another latched on as Scott turned and pointed his gun. I could tell that he wasn’t going to get a good shot, though, because one of the soldiers was in his line of fire.

I shot one of the zombies in the face when it got too close, then I leaned between the seats and offered Lee a hand. He seemed surprised. He had his other hand in the back, gun over the seat as he fought for purchase in the bumpy ride. His cammo shirt rode up to expose a burned wrist and a tattoo of a devil surrounded by a yellow flaming pentagram. Instead of taking his wrist, I grabbed his pistol.

We lurched ahead, free of the zombies, and Scott put the pedal to the metal as we screeched up the winding road. There were a few of the dead on the road, but Scott did a good job of avoiding them. I admired his resolve not to smash into each one like a piñata, which might have damaged the truck. The last thing we needed was to be stuck.

“Let go of that gun!” Lee yelled, but I ignored him and pried it loose. Jack held onto him so he couldn’t get into the seat; his legs hung over the back of the truck like zombie bait. I didn’t care if one of them took him. I was just as likely to put a bullet in his skull after what he did to Haley.

“Scott, pull over as soon as we’re free. Lee and I are going to have a little chat.”

“Does the chat involve tossing his ass off a cliff?”

“As much as I know we need to keep other humans alive, it is pretty tempting.”

Lee stared daggers at me. If he had the gun, I was sure he would have shot me right about then. The scar that ran up his cheek was livid as he ground his teeth together, and I swore I could smell the stench of death on him. How I wanted to shoot him and be done with it.

“At least let me sit in the seat like a big boy. I hate having my ass hanging out for the zombies to latch onto.”

“Do you think Haley felt that way, too? Think she’d like to be sitting with us, instead of lying in a pile of blood, you son of a bitch?”

“Hey, son, she was changing into one of them, and you know it. Everyone knows that when the eyes go green, you shoot. We don’t need any more of those ghouls in the world. They’re already convinced they’re stronger and better than us. I did her and you a favor. It’s time you recognize what’s right in front of you.”

“What’s in front of you, Lee, is a fucking gun, and it’s pointed at your face. Do you really want to keep justifying killing the girl that helped us escape? A girl, Lee, a seventeen-year-old girl!” My hands shook with rage as I lifted the gun and pointed it at his forehead. My finger fell across the trigger, and I wanted to apply the pressure it would take to fire the bullet into his smirking face.

“You going to shoot one of your own? Are you going to shoot a survivor?” he challenged me.

“Is that the same choice you’ve offered the people you dragged out of homes? The people your men raped and killed?”

He didn’t even acknowledge my questions. He just stared at me like I was speaking a different language. I hated this man, and I barely knew him.

“Do it,” Scott said.

I glanced over, and his eyes were just as livid as my own. Jack looked between us, but I couldn’t read his expression. Maybe, like me, he was exhausted and sick of running.

“Scott, pull over, please,” I said, deciding I couldn’t kill Lee. As much as I wanted to, he was right.

Scott came to a halt and took the MP5 from my lap. He looked at me and winked, signifying that whatever I chose, he was behind me.

“Get out,” I said simply.

“You gonna just shoot me here, and leave my body for the goddamn zombies? Takes a real man to do that, you know—to step forward and take care of business. It takes a man with guts. You sure you’re up to the challenge?”

“Get out of the fucking truck. NOW!”

Lee stared at me for a while, shook his head, and then slid out of the back seat.

It was much quieter here, a mile or so from the death and destruction. There were a few birds chirping, and noises from the bushes surrounding the road. A lazy cloud picked that moment to drift over the sun, setting the road on fire as diffuse light scattered across the ground, faded, and then reappeared.

I pointed the gun at his face and thought about all the reasons I should let him live. He was one of us, as disgusted as I was with him. He was a human, and we were an endangered species. I thought of all those who had passed into the night since the uprising of the dead, saw their faces, and felt a sense of loss.

Would one more death change anything? Then I pulled the trigger.

Shock registered on Lee’s face as the hammer smacked against a dry chamber. I stared at him then at the gun. With a cry of fury, I tossed the pistol into the bushes.