Pandora (Book 5): Behold A Pale Horse Page 21

  Now, the house was uncomfortably warm. It was starting to get slightly overcast and he hoped that it would cool things a bit. Shaking his head, he chuckled to himself. It was amazing how many things that you just took for granted. Air conditioning – electricity – fresh food – things that were now just a dream. After lunch, Mike went back and sat near the window. Not close enough to be seen, but enough to see out into the neighborhood. Was in his imagination, or did there seem to be a few more zombies roaming around?

  §§§

  As Patrick drove down the deserted highway, he went back over gun safety and how to fire and clean their weapons with his passengers. They still hadn’t been able to really fire the weapons yet; only a few shots each in their basement, aiming at an old couch next to the TV. They couldn’t take the chance of the gunshots attracting any unwanted attention from the dead on the street.

  There were some zombies still ambling along the highway amidst the silent vehicles. More were over on the northbound side of the throughway and when they saw Patrick’s SUV, they tried to come over the guard rails and across the grass median to them. But, they were too slow. Not as though Patrick was, by any means, speeding down the road. He still had to dodge the occasional zombie and snake his way around abandoned cars and multiple collisions.

  After about an hour of driving, Patrick noticed a large moving van sitting in the middle of the road. The area around it was pretty clear of the vehicles. From a distance, he thought he saw someone on top of the tall trailer of the large van. As he neared, he slowed down. Coming to within two hundred feet he stopped.

  Sitting on the trailer was a man. His feet were dangling off the back and he was apparently eating from a large bag of chips. On the pavement underneath him were five zombies clawing and grasping at their unreachable victim. Seeing the Toyota stop, he raised his hand and waved to them.

  Patrick put the vehicle in park and started to get out of the car. Turning to Dwayne, he said, “Take the bat and come with me. The rest of you stay put.” As Patrick walked toward the moving van, he took out his gun. Twenty feet away, he stopped and handed Dwayne the Sig Sauer.

  “Give me the bat,” he said. “Take this and remember what I taught you. Only fire if they come at you or I get in trouble. I don’t want the noise to attract any more.”

  Dwayne handed his father the bat and carefully took hold of the gun. He was nervous.

  Smiling reassuringly, Patrick joked, “Don’t shoot your dear old dad.” Dwayne gave him a strained smile back.

  Hefting the baseball bat, Patrick started moving. Looking to his left, he could see about a dozen zombies in the northbound lanes. This part of the highway spanned over a road below them. There wasn’t any way the zombies could cross over; although that didn’t stop them from crowding against the guard rails. In the crush, several zombies were pushed over and fell, smashing to the street below.

  The man on top of the truck called down to him, “You don’t have to do this.”

  Patrick looked the situation over. There were two zombies on the right side of the trailer, two in back and one on the left. Deciding on the two closest, he walked up to them. They were so intent on grabbing the man on top that they had no idea he was coming up behind them. Patrick took a stance and swung for the head of the creature in front of him. Hitting him as hard as he could, he sent the zombie sprawling on the asphalt, unmoving. He shifted his stance and wound up again. The second zombie had just turned around toward him. Letting loose another powerful swing, he hit the zombie dead center in the face. It smashed his head into the doors of the truck and he slid down onto the road leaving a trail of brain matter oozing down the door. The other zombies, now aware of his arrival, turned and started coming around the sides.

  The creature on the left came at him first, arms reaching out. Patrick swung the bat at his arms, knocking them away. But his rebound shot just hit the zombie on his shoulder. Undeterred, zombie kept moving closer. Patrick took a couple of steps back and brought the bat down on his head. It sounded like hitting a coconut, and the zombie staggered and fell on his face. Patrick was puffing now.

  As the last two zombies came around, they noticed Dwayne standing ten feet away. Immediately, they turned and started moving toward him.

  Seeing them change direction, his eyes widened as he mumbled, “Oh, shit” under his breath.

  Raising the handgun with two hands like his father taught him, Dwayne held his breath and pulled the trigger. The shot hit the lead zombie square in the chest. He rocked back a step and then leaned forward and loudly snarled at Dwayne, dark droplets spraying from his mouth. Dwayne fired again.

  Seeing the two zombies now after his son, Patrick ran over and hit the rear zombie in the side. She staggered and Patrick stepped in, swinging the bat at her head. It connected with her temple and she fell like a tree.

  Dwayne’s second round entered the zombie’s open mouth and exited under his ear. Still, he came on.

  “Stop shooting,” Patrick yelled, as he felt the bullet whiz by him.

  Upon hearing his voice, the zombie turned. Seeing Patrick standing there, he snarled. Blackish blood ran down his chin where it hung in long, sticky strands. Breathing heavily, Patrick wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his shirtsleeve. The zombie started stumbling his way toward him, reaching out with curled fingers.

  Dwayne, still wanting to do his part, looked around him. Spying a small suitcase on the road, he grabbed it and tossed the bag across the asphalt at the zombie’s feet. The bag skated along the slick surface and hit the zombie in the ankles. He lost his balance and fell backwards. Patrick then ran up and lifting the bat over his head, swung it down on the zombie’s head until its face caved in.

  Patrick stepped back on shaky legs trying to catch his breath. Dwayne ran up to him looking dazed. His father wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close, and kissed him on the head affectionately.

  “You did good, son,” he said. “I’m proud of you. Are you okay?”

  As they both looked down at their handiwork, Dwayne nodded. “If I don’t throw up,” he said, swallowing hard.

  Patrick smiled at him as he hugged him again. “You’re allowed. But you shouldn’t waste the food.”

  A noise caught their attention and they both turned to the moving van. The man on top was climbing down off the roof. The SUV’s doors opened and the three teenagers got out and ran over to them. Patrick retrieved his gun and stuck it in his belt. They watch the man as he lowered himself to the road and walked over. He was a tall, black man with a mustache, wearing jeans, boots and a green polo shirt embroidered with Town & Country Movers on the left breast. He was still carrying the bag of chips.

  They smiled at each other as he said, “Thank you for helping me get off of that roof. You’re mighty handy with that bat.”

  Patrick chuckled. “You’re welcome,” he said.

  The man put out his hand, “I’m Tariq Larson. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Taking his hand, he said, “Pat Shannon. And these are Dwayne, Erica, Greta and Billy.”

  Seeing the kids staring at his big bag of chips, Tariq held it out toward them. “Here,” he said, “help yourselves. It’s the least I could do.” They took the bag and hungrily stuffed the chips in their mouths.

  “What’s your story?” Patrick asked. “How did you wind up on the roof?”

  Tariq smiled and shook his head. “We had a moving job delivering a house full of furniture up to Massachusetts. It was me, Stan Shaw, and Little Tony Schneider. We had just about finished when this whole thing hit. Everybody and everything was going nuts, so we decided to take the van back to Maryland where we started. That’s where the moving company is located and where we’re from. When we hit New York State, we pulled into a rest stop. Stan wasn’t feeling well. He had just come back from sick leave two weeks before. He went into the restrooms while Little Tony and I gassed up at the pumps. By the time our turn came they were out of diesel. Figuring we’d fill up at the next stop
, we went back to get some coffee and sandwiches. Stan still hadn’t come out. The next thing you know, some guy comes running out of the men’s room and jumps on top of the guy going in. They’re rolling on the floor while the first guy is biting the hell out of him.

  “Then, there’s screaming coming from the ladies room, and before you know it, the whole place goes crazy. I had just gotten my coffee, when some teenager comes running past me and knocks it flying out of my hand. He’s screaming and holding his arm. It was covered in blood.

  “I yell to Little Tony to go in and get Stan, when this woman, who I had first noticed coming in lying with her head on one of the tables, tries to attack me. Her eyes are completely milky white. I’m trying not to hurt her at first, because I don’t know what the fuck is going on; but as I see everyone else starting to get attacked, I punch her in the head and take off out of the door.

  “I ran to the van and climbed in. I was scared stiff but wanted to wait for Stan and Little Tony. As I am looking around at the complete madness around me, this car comes speeding up the service road and slams right into the fuel pumps. I swear to God, the entire place went up in a huge fireball. I had never seen anything like that in my entire life. The whole place just blew up. There were people on fire running everywhere. Then it started raining down debris and body parts from the explosion. When this flaming car came crashing down in front of the food court there, I just started her up and took off.

  “I guess all the junk flying around, something must’ve hit the fuel line, because I got as far as here and then ran out of diesel. I climbed up on the roof to see what was around. I actually spent the night up there. It was kinda nice under the stars. Anyways, I stayed with the truck a few days. Talked on the CB. And then the zombies came. I killed a few with a crowbar, until there were too many to deal with, so I climbed back up to the roof.”

  “You were there ever since?” Patrick said.

  “Nah,” Tariq said, “when the zombies started to wander off, I came back down. I tried to find a car to hotwire, but had no luck. I got some more food and water, but no car to run. I had actually gotten a ways down the highway. Finally a lot more zombies came up the road and they chased me all the way back here and up to the roof again.” Tariq looked at Patrick sadly. “I got a wife and little girl back in Baltimore. I wish I could see them again.”

  Patrick turned and pointed at his SUV. “It’ll be tight, but if you want, you can –”

  Tariq shook his head. Reaching down, he pulled up the tail of his shirt and turned to the side. There was a shallow bite mark on his right flank. Dark veins were already spreading out from the wound.

  “That last time,” he said despondently, “I was a little slow in getting myself back up to the roof. One of those suckers grabbed my leg and I slipped. Bit me in the side. I’m pretty much done.”

  “What are you going to do?” Patrick asked him.

  “Do?” he said. “I guess I’ll get myself back up to the roof, so I don’t hurt anyone when I turn.”

  Patrick looked at the gun in his belt. Tariq’s eyes followed his.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Pat. And I thank you for that. But you see, I’m a Christian man. Even what I guess you’d call assisted suicide goes against my religion. I guess I’ll just let the Lord decide what will become of me. It’s in His hands now.”

  Not knowing what to say, Patrick just nodded his head and put his hand on his shoulder.

  Tariq looked at the four teenagers standing there and said to Patrick, “Where are you planning on going?”

  “New Jersey,” Patrick said.

  Shaking his head, Tariq said, “Not this way you’re not. Other drivers on the CB said that whole area is swarming with zombies. The Thruway, the Parkway, Routes 4, 17 and 80 are impassable. It’s zombie city down there.”

  Patrick looked crestfallen.

  “I got a map in the cab,” Tariq said. “Take it. My advice is to get off the highways from now on and take the main local roads. I don’t have a clue how they are, but if you continue down here for too much longer, you’re going to run into more undead then you care to meet.”

  “Appreciate the advice, Tariq,” Patrick said.

  “Well, I might as well climb back up to my perch,” Tariq said, offering his hand.

  Patrick shook it and said, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Dwayne walked up and held out the bag of chips.

  “Nah,” Tariq said, “you keep them. I don’t have much of an appetite anymore. Stomach’s feeling a little funky.” With that, he turned and walked back to the trailer.

  By the time Patrick and the rest got back inside the Toyota, he was already sitting back on the roof. He waved to them. The Shannons pulled away and continued down the road. Dwayne had the map in his lap and was looking for the right exit.

  §§§

  Mike walked up a few steps from his backyard fallout shelter. He was just completing a final checklist of everything they had and making sure that he had left nothing out. He stopped and sniffed the air. The smell of smoke was a bit stronger now. The fires in the area weren’t close enough to worry about yet and he really didn’t think that there’d reach his neighborhood. His concern was that the conflagration would drive the horde of zombies he had heard about into this area. That would be a disaster. Already, he had noticed more undead wandering around then they had yesterday. He had tried calling Pat on his cell phone but twice call was dropped. The cell towers must be overloading. He would keep trying.

  §§§

  Just as they reached Harriman, the clouds finally let loose their moisture. It was only a few drops at first, but now that they had left the Thruway, it became a torrential downpour. As they came down the exit ramp, Patrick saw that the zombies had gathered under the overpasses. Apparently, they didn’t like the rain. Well, neither did he. The wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour and he was having trouble seeing. With five people in the vehicle, the windows were fogging, also, and he had the blower on high. At first opportunity, he wanted to find a service station with a roof over the pumps, so he could fill up again from the cans in the back without getting soaked.

  Rounding a bend in the road, Patrick spotted a barn sitting off to the side. When he pulled off the road, he saw movement inside the structure. Then, two figures appeared at the entrance. One was missing his right arm; a bloody stump was all that was left of it. Staring through the wiper blades, he saw more of the milky-eyed creatures begin to converge in the doorway. Patrick quickly turned around and drove off.

  Ten minutes later, the teeming rain began to slow. By the time he saw the Sunoco station, it had stopped. Pulling into the abandoned station, he came to a stop at the far side pumps. Patrick got out and looked around. There were no zombies near, so he opened the hatch in back and took out one of the full gas cans. Dwayne got out and looked around also.

  “Keep an eye out, Dwayne,” Patrick said. He undid the gas cap and began to fill the tank.

  Opening the passenger side door, Greta stepped out and stretched, also.

  “I really have to go to the bathroom,” she said.

  “I thought I saw the restrooms on the other side of the building as we came in,” Dwayne said.

  “Great,” she said, “I’ll go and see if they’re locked.”

  Greta walked off to the far side of the station, while Patrick filled the tank. Billy and Erica took this opportunity to stretch their legs, too. Billy wandered over to the door of a small convenience area attached to the station. He tried the door and it opened. Stepping inside, he heard movement and turned to see three large rats run along the shelf, then scurry into the back. Most of the remaining packages of fast food on the shelves had been chewed open and consumed by the rodents. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Billy backed out the door and left.

  “Anything inside?” Dwayne asked.

  “Yeah,” remarked Billy, “rats.”

  Finished filling the gas tank, Patrick stowed away the empty gas can and looked a
t the map they got from Tariq. Moving his finger along the marked roads, he was able to determine the best route to get to his brother’s house. Pat opened the driver side door and threw the map down on the console. He then tried his brother again on the cell phone. This time the other end picked up.

  “Pat?” Mike said.

  “Yeah, Mike, it’s me,” he answered.

  “Where are you?” Mike asked.

  “As near as I can tell,” Patrick said, “we’re circling around Sterling State Forest. I figure we have maybe two more hours before we get to you.”

  “Shit, Pat,” Mike said, “you had better make it faster than that.”

  “Why?” Patrick said, concerned. “What changed?”