This is the sixth chapter of the zombie serial The Dead Life. You can learn more about the story over at the project hub. This series originally ran on Haunted MTL but is being edited and updated in the lead-up to new installments to continue the story.
You can read the prior chapter here.
Day 14
Dani placed a finger to her lips and pulled her other hand away from Sandy’s mouth, which had muffled the screaming.
“Sandy, I need you to help me here.” Dani turned to look out the door, in the direction of the rest of the facility. “Can you go to the fence at the end of the units there, and make a lot of noise? We can pull them away.”
Sandy looked shaken. “But what if they climb over?”
“They can’t climb. They’re not smart enough for that, have you seen them walk and stumble around?”
Sandy nodded. Dani pulled a screwdriver from the hip loop of her jeans and handed it to Sandy.
“Take this just in case. A quick jab to the head should work, especially if they are tangled in the fencing. I’ve done it a few times.”
Sandy held the screwdriver in her palms and grimaced. She had noticed the sticky, dry bloodstain on it. She wiped her hand that touched the metal tip on her hip, grumbling quietly.
Dani turned her attention back to Bob. He was still on the ground. She began to edge toward the door to grab him, but she turned her gaze back to Sandy just as she was at the shattered doorway.
“Aim for the eyes.”
Dani dashed out the door.
…
Bob was getting far too old for this shit.
He lay there on the warm concrete in the evening sun. It would have been a beautiful sunset, for sure, but he was far too concerned with his heart pounding its way out of his ribcage.
Beside him lay the corpse of what used to be a human. The stench was horrific, but not unfamiliar. He’d seen his fair share of corpses during his tour in Vietnam. Presumably good people, when he thought back to it in his bitter, painful dreams.
The smell of death was nothing new for Bob Aaron Clark.
He lay there panting, staring up toward the darkening sky, when Danielle Kim jogged up and stood over him.
“Bob, let’s get up, let me help you.”
He grunted as he rose onto his ass, holding out his hand. From there, she was deceptively strong in helping him to his feet.
“What’s wrong, kiddo? It’s dead, yeah?”
She began to pull him toward the building, but glanced back behind her. Her eyes showed fear. Familiar fear. The sound of clanging metal filled the air.
He turned his head as he stumbled towards the door, noticing two of the undead bastards, only a dozen feet away. The clanging came from elsewhere, but where?
Back inside the door, Dani grabbed the bloody letter opener from Bob’s hand. Before he could protest, she said, “Grab your gun.”
Sandy was nowhere to be seen. His mind reeled, wondering if she had abandoned them for the second floor. The clanging continued, frenzied and without pattern.
He cursed his old age as he jogged up the stairs to the apartment to find his gun. He should have carried it down with him in the first place, but he realized it far too late.
He was getting too goddamn old.
…
Her forties had slowed her down tremendously, and Sandy Gunderson was not having it. She jogged just past the fence, seeing the young girl, Danielle, help Bob up from the ground. Behind them were two approaching monsters from down the street.
Sandy jammed the tip of the screwdriver between the spokes of the fence and let the metal of the tool collide with each and every spoke. The sound of clanging metal was loud, and sure enough, it seemed to draw the monsters her direction.
She kicked at the fence for good measure, hammering it over and over.
…
Dani stood just out of sight of the shattered glass door and watched as Sandy did her part. Sandy rapidly ran out of fencing and vanished behind one of the first storage units that made up the northern wall. Things were silent for a moment, and Dani shifted uncomfortably in her position as the ghouls began to search for signs of the living. They did not immediately turn toward the doorway, which was of little comfort.
Then Dani heard the banging and rattling from further away down the property. It sounded as though Sandy were kicking at the unit doors. Soon, she was yelling.
“Here! Here!”
Each “here” was punctuated by the rattle of the sliding doors. Dani ducked behind the doorframe again as the ghouls began to turn. They rounded the outer corner, following the sounds. Dani watched them go out of sight just as Bob wheezed his way down the stairs, his shotgun in hand.
…
The plan made Bob nervous, especially because Danielle was the one who would need to park the moving truck. He intended to protest, but Danielle pointed out that he had the gun. He’d have her back.
He accepted that much.
He started the generator just as she turned the ignition on the moving truck. The gate clanked open, making a tremendous amount of noise, and Bob drew his firearm, waiting for the return of the rotten bastards.
The moving truck bounced as it rolled over the gate track. He watched, almost helplessly, as Dani drove the truck into the street and made a sloppy three-point turn.
She should have just backed it in, he thought to himself.
He watched Danielle back into the lot and caught her grim expression as she gunned the gas just enough to get the truck onto the curb in front of the building. For a moment, his breath was caught in his throat as it looked like the truck might tip over, but it did not. With the truck safely in front of the shattered doorway, Bob turned his attention to the corner where the rotters had disappeared. Sure enough, the sounds of the gate and truck had lured them back. Two of them stumbled from around the corner as Dani continued to reverse the truck.
“Danielle, hurry the fuck up!”
The stumbling gaits of the rotters were slow, and Bob took steady aim with the shotgun. It was no good from this distance, but he felt relieved.
At least until the gate began to close.
…
Sandy could not believe that Bob had left the gate wide open, and she quickly set about closing it as it should have been. Danielle would have no problem going in through the shattered glass door anyway.
What was needed was to make sure none of these things could get inside.
“Sandy, what the hell are you doin’?”
“Closing the gate. We can’t let those things inside.”
“What about Danielle?”
“She can just go through the door.”
Bob stared at her as he opened the gate again. Sandy took a few steps back, nervous about the gate. The plan seemed to be working, but the lack of a barrier was not ideal, and she gripped the screwdriver so hard she felt her nails dig into the heel of her palm.
…
The truck finally parked as flush to the building as she could manage, Dani leaped out from the passenger side, keys in hand, and slammed the door shut. There were three ghouls now, and she paused for a moment to mark their distance. They were very close.
“Get the hell over here!”
Dani looked at Bob, who had his shotgun at the ready, violently jerking his head back over his shoulder.
Dani got the hell over.
…
Back inside the shopfront, the trio stood, staring at the shattered door with a moving truck parked out front. Bob had already blown the heads off the three ghouls once the gate was shut, and they were wrenching their arms through the bars. So, the immediate threat was handled.
For the long term, though…
“What if they crawl under the truck?” Sandy asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Dani shook her head. She’d been watching the ghouls for a while since the first ones were wandering the town. They weren’t smart.
Bob was the first to speak. “They’re too dumb for that. I don’t think we need to worry about that. We need to worry about one wedging itself in from the wider end.”
Dani ran her sweaty palms through her black hair.
“Our best bet is to seal up the window and lock up the building for now, just in case. We can always reinforce later.”
Sandy grunted. Dani saw her about to raise a protest, but it seemed that she ultimately agreed.
“Well, I am going to pack a few essentials if I am giving up the apartment for now.” There was a tone to Sandy’s words that Dani took as entitlement. It was too much to deal with at the moment. Dani had no interest in the apartment anyway.
Sandy vanished up the stairs. Bob was already approaching a small, unused display area where the moving supplies were stored for sale. Dani followed. After about twenty minutes, they had managed to tape up the windows and the shattered glass door with cardboard boxes. They had double-layered the cardboard over the door. For good measure, they moved a desk from the office to a position in front of the doorway as well. It wasn’t a great barrier, but if no ghoul poked through, they would be fine.
Seemingly content with the handiwork, Bob whistled and put a reaffirming hand on Dani’s shoulder. Sandy came downstairs with a pair of suitcases.
“We have a couple of RVs that were being stored here. Maybe we can open one for you, Dani,” Sandy asked hopefully. She was not interested in giving up the security of the second story, and Dani could tell.
Dani nodded. Exhausted. Bob handed Dani the shop keys.
“Your daddy’s gun is in that safe in the office.”
Sandy and Bob stepped out of the storefront. Dani made her way to the office, opened the small closet, and knelt to access the safe.
The combination was still her birthday.
She pulled out a small 9mm, unloaded. She tucked it into the waist of her pants. She grabbed the small box of bullets and held it between her fingers.
…
The RV seemed comfortable enough. There were no keys, and it had to be crowbarred open, but some chain could help seal it up again from inside.
Dani sat on the step, smoking. Bob was kind enough to give her a little something to take the edge off the day. She wasn’t much of a smoker but had dabbled here and there. It seemed now was the perfect time to take it up again.
The year 2000 had been an absolute clusterfuck so far.
She let out a pair of small puffs of smoke into the chilly night air. The sun was gone, now, and her eyes had gotten quite effective at adapting to the dark. The RV was parked near the southern edge of the property, in an open area, accompanied by a couple of trailers and two boats.
Over the fence, there was a neighborhood of perfectly bland homes. She stared at them, noticing movement in one of the windows in the dark.
She stared hard, doing her best to make out some sort of detail. After a while, the figure moved close enough to the window for her to see that it was long dead and walking – a missing jaw gave that away. She stamped out her cigarette, took one last look at the window, and shut the RV.
She threw herself onto a dusty bed and curled up into the fetal position.
Soon, the tears came, and she buried her face into the pillow.
No noise.
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Ah, sad conclusion. 🛋🤧