Pandora: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse Read online

  Before the zombies could start toward Sean, Mike and Carol jumped up and attacked them with axes they had found in the store. Soon all three ghouls lay in a pile.

  Mike ran out and called the others over. After carrying the sleeping bags and other items to the cars, they quickly packed them in the backs.

  Several zombies were making their way down the road. A couple in front looked newly turned; they were moving a lot faster than the rest. Once done, the escapees circled the SUVs around and drove back to the on-ramp of Interstate 95.

  19

  Entering North Carolina, the caravan was forced to leave the main freeway. A huge conflagration was burning in the center of the road. A tractor-trailer and a tanker truck were angled across the lanes. There were about thirty cars, smashed and tossed around. The entire massive accident was burning heavily with thick, oily, black smoke, pluming up and darkening the overhead sky.

  Heading down to the closest parallel road, they continued their way south. Mike was now in the lead. Because they were passing a larger town, the number of zombies walking the roads increased. As Mike’s GMC Yukon was bigger and heavier, he had the honor of being the battering ram for the group. Although he avoided the creatures when possible, his grille was quickly becoming a gory mess. Blood and bits of flesh and cloth hung from the once-shiny chrome.

  The road they were on was starting to curve away from the freeway. They didn’t want to lose track of I-95, but they were heading more and more away from it.

  It was about two thirty when Mike noticed a furniture factory off to the left. There was a lumber shed attached, and they pulled the SUVs inside and closed the shed doors. Sean kept his Murano out and in front of the open rolling doors of the building.

  Everyone got out and stretched their legs. Mike said, “I figured we needed a break. We’ll heat up some canned vegetables, put them all in a pot, and have soup for lunch.”

  Malik and Sean rolled a big metal barrel over to the opening, and Mariam, Linda, and Sue started their hodgepodge vegetable medley. Jack went down nearer the road to stand as their lookout. Soon Malik had a fire going in the barrel and put two flat pieces of metal he had found over the opening to hold the pot. Sean went down to his Murano; he wanted to check the tires. The ride had felt a little off, and he wanted to check the pressure. Naomi came over to him.

  “Car all right?” she asked.

  “Just want to check the tires, is all. Ride felt a little funny.”

  “We’ve gone a long way,” she said. “Truthfully I’m surprised we’ve gotten this far.”

  Sean smiled. “Actually so am I. We’ve been really lucky at being able to siphon gas from the cars we’ve come across.”

  He stood up from the wheel. “You know, standing next to the cars with the dead inside, clawing at the windows, is pretty bad, but what really freaks me out are the abandoned cars. Sitting in the middle of the highway, doors wide open, sometimes purses or glasses on the seat…I…I wonder what happened to them. A lot of those cars still had gas. I mean, why did those people leave?”

  “Well,” Naomi mused, “we’ve seen quite a few wandering among the cars. Maybe they were escaping family members who had turned in the car. Remember that big horde that came down the other side of the interstate? That was scary! So fucking many of them.”

  “You know what scared the shit out of me?” Mariam asked, walking up.

  “What?” inquired Sean.

  “Remember back in New Jersey,” she began, “when we were on the turnpike? I think we were going around Camden.”

  Naomi and Sean nodded, knowing where Mariam was going with this.

  She got a distant look in her eyes as she immersed herself in the story. “We’d just passed the Philly turnoff and were about to go under that overpass.” She paused. “There were a whole lot of zombies on top of it. Remember? They saw us coming, and all bunched up against the guardrail. As we neared them, driving below, first one, then two, then three of them threw themselves over the side at us.

  “They…they kept hitting the pavement, splatting like melons, one after another. My God!” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “We had to speed up then quickly juke over to the far lane to avoid them,” Sean added, wanting the story to end.

  The three stood there, thinking about that grisly tableau. Finally Mariam said, “I’d better go back and help with the soup. It should be ready.”

  Everyone passed out plastic bowls and spoons they’d gotten from the camp store and sat down to eat. With all the water from the cans mixed together, the soup was quite tasty. Malik had relieved Jack of guard duty. As soon as Jack walked in, his cell rang. It was three fifteen, and he almost had turned it off.

  “Tommy,” he said, “how are you?”

  “Good, bro,” Tommy replied. “We’re here.”

  “You’re in Boca?” Jack asked excitedly.

  “Yeah, we finally made it,” Tommy said. “I lost half the platoon I had left getting here and clearing the place out. It was goddamn brutal. But we’re here.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said sincerely.

  “Listen, Jack. On the bright side, this place is amazing. It’s just what I thought it would be. The walls are ten feet high and have lots of palms and foliage around them. We sealed off the entrance with tractor-trailers and filled underneath them with debris and heavy furniture so the Zs can’t crawl under. On the smaller side gate, we did the same but put the junk on movable pallets. We also kept the cab attached to the trailer, so we can move it to go in and out. That side is totally surrounded by trees and high bushes. It’s on a small side road, so it isn’t easy to see. Jack, it’s perfect. Most of the mansions here are empty. There are only twelve of them, all on big lots, and only three are occupied. The residents are thrilled to have the protection, so there’s no problem there.”

  “Oh, man,” cried Jack, almost overcome. “This is so, so great. There are nine of us here. We’re in North Carolina now and are heading for you.”

  “Outstanding,” Tommy declared. “Call me when you cross into Florida.”

  “You got it! Talk to you then,” Jack said, then hung up.

  “Hey,” he yelled out to the group. “My brother is in Boca! He’s at the house and says it’s perfect for us. We have a safe place to go to.”

  The survivors all hugged one another and exchanged high fives. Everyone was smiling, as they now had a real, true destination.

  Sean came over and playfully punched Jack’s shoulder. “Imagine, old man, retiring to Florida at twenty-seven.”

  “This is great,” Jack said, with a huge grin on his face.

  After lunch they all started to gather themselves up. The meal and especially the news brought new hope and excitement to the group. Mike put a piece of sheet metal over the barrel to smother the fire.

  Just then Malik came running up from the road. They all stopped as he approached them, puffing. “We have company,” he stated bluntly.

  “Zombies?” asked Mariam.

  “No,” Malik said. “Live people. Three of them.”

  “Yay, real people,” Sue said with a sigh of relief.

  “They’re armed,” stated Malik.

  “What do they want?”

  “Are they soldiers?”

  “Do they look friendly?”

  The questions flew at him. “I don’t know,” he exclaimed, frustrated.

  “Okay,” commanded Sean, “everyone go and hide. Malik, Jack, Mike, and Carol, take positions with your weapons, and keep me covered. I’m going to stand by my car and talk to them if they come up here. Make sure you set yourselves up so you have a clear shot. If this goes sideways, I want you ready to kill them.”

  “How will we know?” asked Carol. “What if we can’t hear you?”

  “There are a lot of boxes and woodpiles close to the door. Position yourselves there. If anyone goes for his gun, kill them all.”

  “Where’s your rifle?” Carol asked.

  “I won’t be armed. I don’t wa
nt to spook them.”

  Linda walked up to him. “I’m staying with you,” she stated flatly.

  “No way,” spat Sean. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Sean walked to his SUV and opened the hatch. “Everyone get in place.”

  As he watched the road out of the corner of his eye, he saw three men walk into view. They looked up the drive at the old factory and saw the SUV. Stopping, they talked briefly among themselves then started up the drive.

  All three were dressed in jeans, boots, and hunting jackets. Two of them wore ball caps, and the burly one had a camouflage bandana around his head, like a pirate. All three carried scoped hunting rifles.

  As Sean turned to face them, Linda came up to his side.

  “I thought I told you to hide,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  She put her hands in her pockets and stood there, watching the strangers approach.

  The tall hunter, whom Sean guessed was their spokesman, sauntered up to stand about ten feet away. The other two went to each side of him.

  With his rifle resting casually on his shoulder and a big toothy smile on his face, he pushed up the brim of his cap with his thumb and said, “Howdy, friend.”

  “Hey,” said Sean, putting a smile on his face.

  The man turned to Linda and smiled even broader. “Howdy, Miss.”

  Linda smiled nervously. “Hi. How are you?”

  “Us?” he said, eyes opening wide. “Why, we’re just as right as rain.”

  “We just stopped here to rest and are getting ready to leave,” Sean said.

  The lead man, who had a dark Fu Manchu mustache, looked over at the big, burly man next to him. The burly man looked back at the mustached man, his bushy, bearded face splitting into a grin.

  The lead man turned back to Sean and, still smiling, said, “Why the rush? We haven’t even introduced ourselves.”

  Sean opened his mouth to say something, but the man kept right on speaking.

  “I’m Garrett,” he said, “and this here’s Davey.” He nodded sideways to the bearded man then the other way at a gaunt man with a sneer. “And that’s Earl. My cousin Roy is down the road at a local Walmart. We sort of moved in there. It’s right cozy.”

  “Um, I’m Sean, and this is Linda.”

  Garrett looked at Linda with a snakelike, predatory gaze. With his teeth shining in the sun, he looked ready to devour them.

  “Linda…” he almost hissed, “My, my, but ain’t you just the prettiest little thing?”

  Garrett took a small step forward. All three newcomers now had this almost unblinking stare that was focused solely on the attractive woman in front of them.

  “You know,” Garrett said conspiratorially, still staring at Linda, “that Walmart is plenty big, and there’s all kinds of great stuff there. Y’all should come with us. Why, we can have us a good ol’ time.”

  “No, thanks,” said Sean forcefully. “We’ve got to be going.”

  In an instant the friendly bonhomie veneer fell away.

  Garrett looked at Sean, his mouth a cruel slit. His voice lowering an octave, he said, “Why, that’s just right unfriendly of you. I thought we all could have us a party. But—Sean, is it?—pissing all over my invitation like that, you just insulted the fuck outta me.”

  Taking the rifle down from his shoulder and using it as a pointer, he said, “Now you’re gonna make it right and let me and my buddies have a few turns on pretty little Linda here.”

  The two men next to him, knowing what was coming, were grinning lustily. Bearded Davey rubbed his crotch. All three predators started forward.

  Sean put his arm around Linda and loudly yelled, “Fuck you!”

  He spun Linda around, and they ran behind the car.

  Before the men could react, a hail of bullets poured from the interior of the building. The three men danced like marionettes as rounds of assault-rifle bullets tore into them, punching holes in their heads and bodies. A great red mist of blood rose from them. Finally, as the firing stopped, the three fell in slow motion. The shooters came out of the building, weapons smoking, and stood over them. The bodies were torn apart.

  Sean walked over to them and said, “They were evil fucking psychos!”

  “I don’t think they’re the only ones,” retorted Carol.

  “No,” stated Malik. “They’re going to start coming out of the woodwork now. We can’t trust any more strangers.”

  They all nodded. Linda walked over to Garrett’s body and spat on him.

  After reloading the mags in their weapons, they got the SUVs ready. Sean called Mike over. “That asshole said they were at a Walmart down the road,” he said. “They took it over. There’s only one person guarding it. We need food.”

  Overhearing the conversation, Linda interjected, “Let’s go there. Like Sean said, there’s only one guy, and he’s certainly not expecting us.”

  As the rest of the group wandered over, Malik said, “We could use the food. Besides, we all need a break. We could stay there overnight, get some rest, then make a straight run to Florida tomorrow.”

  “That sounds good,” Mariam piped up.

  A moaning erupted from outside.

  “Looks like all the shooting attracted company,” Carol said warily. “We’d better leave now.”

  The group jumped into their cars and drove out of the factory lot, leaving the three bleeding bodies to the crows.

  Two miles down the deserted road, they came upon the Walmart. The large parking lot had a number of empty cars in it. About two dozen bodies littered the area; the largest concentration was around the entrance. Two zombies lurked at the other end, wandering through the cars.

  Sean stopped at the entrance drive to the parking lot. Getting out with the rest, he said, “Malik and I will sneak over near the entry doors. Carol, you’re our best shot. You’ll be opposite us. We’re going to call Roy out. When he shows himself, I want you to take him out. Can you do it?”

  “With pleasure,” she said grimly.

  “All right then, when I stand and wave, Linda, Mike, and Jack, drive over and park right in front of the doors. Back in so we can load up, and be ready to go if we attract any zombie attention. Everybody ready?”

  With all nods affirmative, Sean, Malik, and Carol slipped through the lot, using the cars as cover. The rest got back into the cars and waited. Weaving through the automobiles, the scouts got as close as they could. Carol was a little off to the left and Malik and Sean on the right side farther down.

  Sean looked over at Carol, and she nodded back at him. Giving Malik a brief glance, he put his hands to the sides of his mouth and yelled, “Roy!” Trying his best to imitate Garrett’s voice, he again yelled, “Hey, Roy. Get out here.”

  For a minute there was no movement inside the Walmart. Then Sean saw a figure looking out through the glass.

  “Get your ass out here, boy,” he yelled. “Come see what we got.”

  The door opened, and a young man stood in the entry. He had a buzz cut and a scruffy, light-brown chin beard. He was wearing a ratty denim vest, and Sean saw tattoos trailing up both arms to his neck.

  “Garrett?” Roy called questioningly.

  “Who else? Get out here,” Sean called, feigning anger.

  Roy, carrying a large-caliber handgun, walked out to the sidewalk with a quizzical expression.

  Looking through the red-dot sight, Carol took the shot. It hit Roy in the side of the neck, putting a hole in the window beside him. Roy dropped the gun and put both hands to his spurting neck to stop the bleeding. As he stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, Carol put a second shot through his right eye. Roy fell against a shopping cart, and they both went over, his feet flying in the air.

  For a few minutes, they waited, crouched down, to make sure no one else was going to come out.

  Then Sean stood up and waved his arm, and he and Malik walked cautiously to the open door and looked in. Hearing two more shots as the three SUVs drove up, S
ean looked out. The two zombies had been coming toward them, lured by the shouting, and Carol, waiting, had shot them both.

  20

  The Walmart proved to be a treasure trove. There were canned and packaged goods, new clothes, ammunition in the gun department, and personal hygiene items for all. They also picked up two shotguns and enough shells to last them a while.

  As thrilled as they were with their good fortune, the jovial mood ended quickly when they entered the employee break room. Lying in an untidy row were twelve bodies. All were either employees or customers, and all were killed, execution style, by a shot to the back of the head. The four females among them, one barely in her teens, were all partially undressed and apparently had been raped.

  Looking down at this atrocity, Sean, seething with anger, choked out, “I guess Garrett was particular about who he shared with.”

  The rest of the night, they sat and ate somberly. They were exhausted and retired early. They all took two-hour shifts watching for any outside activity. This way they had only one shift each, so they all got plenty of time to sleep.

  In the morning they loaded the cars, had a delicious breakfast, and got ready to go. Mike walked out of the store, carrying a box of Frosted Mini-Wheats and shoving a handful into his mouth. He mumbled through the cereal, “We’d better leave. A few zombies are starting to come into the lot.”

  Sean had picked up a map at the front of the store and, finding out where they were, traced a route back to Interstate 95. They got in and started the SUVs just as the undead were closing in, then drove off and away from the Walmart.

  Reaching the freeway, they entered the on-ramp and continued their journey. Although they were well rested and satiated now, yesterday’s experience left them in quiet contemplation, each person examining his or her own take on the events. The men took a hard view of things. Carol and Naomi did as well. Sue and Mariam were having a more difficult time wrapping their heads around this revamped way of life. Linda, the liberal defense attorney, never before had been in a situation such as the one she’d found herself in the day before. The realization of what could have happened shocked her to the core. She’d always had a distaste for violence but believed in the goodness of the human spirit. Sean, who’d always loathed bullies, used to argue with her over self-preservation. Now, after meeting Garrett and his inbred friends, she’d lost all such high hopes for the grand nobility of humankind. She became a survivor. The one thing they all realized was this: it wasn’t just the dead they had to fear but also the living.