Fall of the Risen

We drove down the road for what seemed like forever. Country roads, with no sign of civilization—and no sign of zombies—it was like whatever deity ruled our world picked us up and dropped us in a world of our own where no one else existed. It was all ours, and we were left to it for months. It was strangely wonderful, but extremely boring.

“Light’s fading, folks. Do we find a place to stop for the night, or just keep driving?”

“Keep going,” Dawn said. “I don’t think I can sleep in this van.”

“Bull! I’ve heard quite a few snores from behind me. A few of them must have been yours.”

She reached forward and smacked me on the arm. “I do not snore!”

Several chuckles burst through lips trying to hold back full-out laughter.

“Fine!” Dawn said. “Pull over. I’ll drive.”

I spotted a gas station and pulled in. The van was still three-quarters full and we had a few full jerry cans in the back, but I never passed up the opportunity for more.

Murray and I found the access to the underground tank and worked on prying it open.

“Might as well check the store,” Jack said. Dawn and Ferguson followed him.

Murray dropped a rope into the tank and pulled it back up to find a good portion wet with gasoline. We unloaded the gas powered pump and started filling our empty cans.

“Strange, isn’t it?” I said.

“What’s that?”

“To get gas we have to use a pump that needs gas. If we have no gas, we can’t get any gas..”

A gunshot sounded from inside the store followed by a scream. Dawn’s scream.

“Stay put.”

I ran into the store, with my machete in hand. Dawn and Ferguson were staring in horror at a zombie that dead on the floor with a caved-in head. Jack was busy wiping brain off of his baseball bat.

“Everyone good?” I asked.

Jack nodded and put his arm around Ferguson’s shoulder and led him out of the store while explaining, “If you’re going to use a gun, Fergy, you’ve got to go for a head shot. Basic knowledge, man!”

Dawn couldn’t take her eyes off the zombie. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. The male in me couldn’t help but notice the way it made her chest heave. A layer of sweat covered her chest and her lips seemed permanently parted. She began making noises. Some of the even sounded like the ones she made when we were intimate.

I stepped close and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into me. I kissed her, and drove the kiss deeper and deeper with each passing second. Then she shoved me, hard.

“Get off of me! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t know, I just…”

“You thought that after almost getting killed by a zombie I’d want to have sex in a gas station? If killing and zombies gets you off that much, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

She stormed out of the store, which I guess I understood. To say I read the situation wrong was a bit of an understatement.

I climbed into the back of the van and we continued down the road. The silence felt awkward, but that could have been me.

Between the long day of driving and the late hour, I was asleep in a matter of minutes. I got to sleep through the rest of the night, too. It wasn’t until late morning that I woke up to the van screeching to an abrupt stop.

We weren’t five minutes down the road before we ran into a small herd of the undead. Jack and I grabbed our preferred hand to hand weapons and got out of the van. A few steps later I looked back and saw three sets of eyes staring at me. The fear in those eyes ranged from moderate unease to complete terror.

“How long before we can train this lot?” I said, nodding toward the van.

Jack looked over his shoulder and snickered. “Might be a bit. When you threw me into this zombie frying pan I had already faced them countless times on our runs. They haven’t done anything of the kind.”

“You’re right,” I said, looking at the enemy in front of us. They were already aware of us and heading our way like some kind of slow motion Braveheart army.

The first to reach me went down with a baseball swing of my machete. Jack made the same swing, with his bat, taking down the second.

“Maybe we should have stayed,” I said.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Jack said with a grunt as he caved in another skull.

“As much as I hate those walls, it’s safer behind them.” I stuck my machete through an undead face and forced the entire corpse backward until we ran into a second corpse. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, some still thrashing, others completely still. A heavy chop with my blade and they were all still.

“You still think that’s true after what we just went through? Maybe it’s not the walls that make it safe, maybe it’s the people.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning maybe they’re safe with us—with you—no matter where they are.”

Jack put the last zombie down, though it took him a few swings before the corpse stopped moving and moaning. He looked at the head of the bat and winced.

“I’m not sure this is what I should be using,” Jack said.

“What?” I asked. “You always use that.”

“That’s not a good enough reason on its own to keep using it. Maybe I should get a machete, or a sword. What about a chainsaw?”

“Getting a little ridiculous, aren’t you? That’s usually my job.”

Jack smiled and started for the van. “I’ll give it some more thought.”

We started down the highway again, taking a route Jack had worked out. Our destination was the nearest army outpost. We all agreed it was our best bet to find other live people. If we found it empty, odds were good we’d find some decent supplies. If that didn’t work out, the entire trip would be a waste. At least we’d have enough gas to get back to Sisco with our Johnsons tucked between our legs.

“Incoming,” Jack said.

“I see ‘em.”

Three zombies were in the middle of the road eating something made of meat. Could have been a human or a large animal. Zombies didn’t have the most discerning taste.

I pulled up close and brought the van to a stop, putting it into park. Jack made a move the open the van door, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked at me and I gave him the slightest shake of my head. He didn’t respond but didn’t argue.

I laid on the horn, which caused my passengers to swear at me and question my sanity.

The zombies took notice and tore themselves away from their meal.

“You guys think they enjoy the hunt?” I asked.

“Who cares? Run them down!” Dawn said, punching me in the shoulder.

“They must enjoy it a little,” I continued. “Take these ones here. They’re walking away from a guaranteed meal. Well, except that guy.” I pointed to one of the zombies that fell due to a broken tibia and was dragging itself toward us.

“What the hell is this?” Ferguson demanded. “Are you a zombie killer or a damn scientist?”

“It’s just interesting. Don’t you think it’s interesting, Jack?”

“Now that you mention it, that is really quite interesting.”

“Yes. It is.”

“Okay, fine. You both find it interesting, now do something!” Dawn said.

“Those panels work back there? The ones that let you kill zombies from the safety of the van?”

“Yeah, why?”

I turned and smiled at her, offering my machete.

“I hate you so much right now,” she said, snatching the machete out of my hands.

Two of the zombies reached the van and started to paw at the glass and lean against it on unsteady feet.

When the first one made it around to the side where Dawn was sitting, it stared at her through the window, snapping its teeth. It actually tried to bite the glass! Dawn didn’t think it was funny, but I had a hard time holding in my laughter.

She grabbed the handle to the kill port and let out a long breath. It one motion she pulled the kill port open, stabbed, and closed it back up.

The zombie staggered back a step but came right back.

“You got him in the chest,” Jack said. “Gotta get the head.”

“I knew we built those things too damned low,” Murray said from the back of the van.

I had almost forgotten he was there. He looked whiter than usual and was hugging himself and rocking slightly.

“Then it’s a good thing I put this in.”

Dawn turned a lever on the van ceiling and pushed. A port the size of a sunroof swung open and she stood with head and shoulders above the roof.

Stepping up on the seat, she was able to pull herself up onto the roof. From there, she easily stabbed down through the zombie’s skull and climbed back into the van.

“Not so bad, eh?” I asked.

“What are you talking about? That was horrible. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.”

“That goes away eventually,” Jack said.

“You need something, Fergie?” I asked.

Ferguson looked at the zombie that had approached his side of the van. He said nothing, but didn’t look much better than Murray.

He stood up through the roof, pulled a handgun he had in the waist of his pants, and put a bullet through the corpse’s eye.

Ferguson sat back down in the van and looked at the rest of us. We were all staring at him with a mix of surprise and awe.

“What?” He asked. “Did I lose points for style?”

That left one, who was still a distance away, scratching clawing to inch closer. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Murray lie down across the back seat.

“I’ll get this one,” I said. I put the van into drive and ran over the last zombie’s head as we continued down the highway.

It was a good start, though none of us expected the road block we were heading toward.

Word that I was leaving spread around Sisco pretty fast after my argument with Jack. Some people came to me crying, claiming the settlement wouldn’t survive without me. Others shook my hand and patted me on the back, seeing the benefit to being offensive but too frightened to do it themselves. And still, there were people that just walked past me and gave me a look that said I was nuts. The same look they’d been giving me since the day I arrived in Sisco.

With information traveling so fast, it was no shock when most of the settlement showed up to watch us leave. We had just finished moving the funnel aside to let Murray drive our new armored mini-van to the top of the overpass. When we turned back, there was a crowd of people watching us.

I gave a wave, but an unsatisfied murmur ran through the crowd. I stood there, frozen.

“What is it?” I called out.

“Who’s going to lead us?” someone called out.

I sighed. “That’s not up to me to decide. I’m not going to be here.”

“You could at least recommend someone,” the same voice replied.

“I was never even in charge in the first place!”

Dave made his way to the front of the group. “I know I made some big mistakes, but I can work on that. I think everyone would agree that beyond a few hiccups, I ran things pretty well.”

“Hiccups?” I asked. “A hiccup is running out of gas. A hiccup is coming back from a run with Corn Flakes instead of Cheerios. Walling the one guy trying to make a difference, being overthrown by your head of security, and loads of people dying is not a hiccup.”

“Who then?” Dave asked, motioning toward the crowd of people. They were all looking at me, or Dave, with a combination of fear and confusion. Kind of the way cows look at everything.

“Jack would be a good choice,” I said.

A mix of agreement and ney-saying arose from the crowd.

“What did I say about that?” Jack’s voice rose about the din.

The crowd parted and Jack walked to the top of the overpass with a duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Besides,” he said. “How can I lead when I’m going with you?”

He walked to the van and leaned against it with a smirk on his face. The smirk said a lot to someone who could read it.

It said he felt like an ass for how things almost ended with us. It also said he knew I felt like just as much of an ass. And it said that as long as I didn’t bring it up, he wouldn’t either.

I was thrilled to see he was coming with us, but I still had no idea who to tell these people to make their leader, or why I should be the one to do it.

Before I could think about that, Romanda took a few steps up the overpass.

“This is a surprise!” I said with a smile. “But there’s room in the van.”

“Fool, I ain’t coming with you,” Romanda said. “I’m stepping up to let everyone know that before the zombies hit the fan, I was the mayor’s aide in a small city. Had to kill him with his own recognition award when he turned. Anyway, it might not have been New York City, but we still took care of fifty-thousand people, I’m sure I can take care of a few dozen.”

I shrugged. “Anyone opposed to giving Romanda a shot?” I asked.

Dave looked like he was going to object, but thought twice and his mouth stayed shut. The people of Sisco murmured to each other, but no one voiced an objection.

Dave stepped toward Romanda, hands fidgeting at his side. “I know I don’t deserve a shot, but I think if you’d let me, I could be a great asset as your assistant.”

Romanda looked at Dave for a few seconds, then looked at me. I shook my head, “You’re the boss now. Your decision.”

After another pause, she gave a nod and color seemed to bloom back into Dave’s face.

“But there will be no seconds chances. On anything. One screw up, and I’ll put you on recruitment runs.”

Dave nodded a little too rapidly to be natural.

Romanda looked to me and I gave her my most approving nod. “I like your style.”

“I’ll be waiting for you all if you ever decide to come back.”

“We’ll be back,” I said. “Doesn’t matter what we find out there. This place is home.”

Romanda nodded and smiled.

“Can I make one recommendation?” I asked.

“Of course.”

I locked eyes with Ferguson in the crowd and motioned for him to join us. He walked quickly and nervously, like a kid called to the front of the classroom. I put my arm around him.

“You’re going to need a new head of security, and I think Ferguson here is the man for the job.”

Ferguson stammered looking from me to Romanda and then to the van.

“You want to go with us, don’t you?” I asked. “Dammit! Why do I suck so much at appointing people? Fine. Get in the damn van. The thing’s getting a little full if you ask me.”

Ferguson stopped just before stepping into the van, a real smile appearing on his face.

“Thanks, Clark.”

And because I’m an asshole, my only reply was a toothy grin and two thumbs up.

It had been a week since Dawn helped me realize I needed to leave Sisco. Since that moment, I hadn’t told anyone or made a single preparation for leaving. I still felt like I had to leave, but I had no plan. I usually didn’t think that far ahead, but I didn’t even know where I would go once I drove out of those gates.

I didn’t know where the nearest settlement was. It’s not like we had neighbors just down the road. For all we knew, we were all that was left. Unlikely, but possible.

Dawn suggested driving the main highway until we saw something that looked like Sisco. A decent enough plan, but what would we do if we didn’t see anyone after 50 miles? 100 miles? 1,000?

Meanwhile, everyone seemed happy to keep living one day at a time. Most of the big changes were in place and part of the daily schedule. My role as temporary leader had become quite boring.

At the very least I got to spend a lot of time with Dawn. Since the night she kissed me, and told me I wouldn’t leave without her, we barely left each other’s sides. At night we were either at her place or mine, but we were together. And during the day, I didn’t know crap about cars, but I hung around in her garage and did my best to distract her from her work.

“Come on,” she said, playfully pushing me away. “I’ve got work to do.”

“What work? Every vehicle in Sisco is purring like a kitten.”

“I’ve got a special project I’ve been working on, and I haven’t touched it in a week.”

“It can wait a few minutes longer, can’t it?”

“No.”

She shoved me harder, breaking my hold on her, and dashed across the garage, running out the back door. The door led to another bay that Dawn barely ever used. But there was a vehicle in that bay. It was a dark blue mini-van.

Murray was crouched beside it, working at attaching a large gray panel to the side.

I approached the van slowly, placing a hand on the hood.

“Do the seats fold down?”

She nodded but gave me a questioning look.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

“These panels are going to make it a lot heavier, darling,” Murray said. “Maybe too heavy.”

“She doesn’t like when you call her that,” I said.

“It’s okay when he does it,” Dawn said, teasing me with a smile. “And I think it’ll be okay. I have some ideas. Won’t need top speed out of her anyway.”

“What this all about?” I asked.

“I started making this for you to take on runs. When Murray’s done with it, it’ll be bullet proof. I’ve been installing ports where weapons can be attached.”

She walked me around to the back of the van pulled down a panel on a hinge.

“You’ll be able to shoot and stab from the safety of the van. We’ll probably put a few more of these in.”

Murray cleared his throat. “Dawn keeps saying we should make a trailer for the schlepper so we can take it when we leave. I think it’s a waste of time. It’ll be here if we need it.”

I pulled Dawn a few steps toward the door.

“You told Murray we were leaving?”

“You brought him here. You think you can just leave him here when we go?”

“You’re leaving?” Jack walked through the door, hurt plain on his face. “When were you going to tell the rest of us?”

“We haven’t decided anything yet,” I said.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Jack said. “I know you better than that. You don’t take a single step unless you’re sprinting full out.”

Jack noticed Murray, who looked like he was trying to blend into the side of the van.

“I get that you’re taking Dawn, but you’re taking the guy you just found buried underground and not your best friend?”

He turned and stormed off. I stayed a few feet behind him, doing my best not to sound desperate.

“Jack, come on! Of course you can come. I don’t even know when we’re going.”

“I have a suggestion. Today. Soon. Now. It’s funny that you think I’d come with you after you invited me out of pity. I’d much rather stay here.”

“If that’s what you want, fine. When I go, I’ll leave you in charge.”

“You’re not actually in charge of a damn thing around here. And I just told you I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, you asshole. You’re too damned smart to go back to making runs and being a sack of shit for people to kick around. You want to go back to being nothing? To having nothing?”

“You think I had nothing? I had a best friend. Had. You know, maybe there’s one favor you could do for me. When you leave this time, don’t come back.”

After that night on the bridge, everything went back to normal. Well, not normal. Closer to how it was before, I guess.

Jansen was dead, which no one seemed to be crying about, not even his security team.

Dave survived the gunshot wound though he, and everyone around him, was different. No one officially announced that he was no longer in charge, but he wasn’t. People weren’t coming to him for decisions about what should be done. Instead, they came to me. I didn’t know if Dave was unhappy about that or not. He stayed inside of his house most of the time.

Murray and Dawn became instant friends, and enemies. They seemed to always be shoulder to shoulder in one vehicle or another, but they could never seem to stop bickering about the right way to do things.

I had been trying to make time to talk to Dawn, though it never seemed to work out. There was so much to do, and even when I allowed myself a break, other people were always around. There was so much I wanted to say to her and I didn’t have a clue how to say any of it.

Jack loved his new role. When anyone came to me with a problem to do with infrastructure or ingenuity, I sent them to Jack. He was constantly drawing plans and had people working around the clock in his garage on one project or another.

I checked my watch. It was almost noon. Time to head to the overpass.

Ferguson saw my approach and opened the inner gate. I looked at his bandaged hand, the one without a thumb. As I had become known to do, I gave him a big grin and double thumbs up. He returned one thumb up and one middle finger, but there was a smile on his face.

I never thought I’d call the guy a friend, but I was pretty happy to be wrong about that.

The funnel still stood at the apex of the overpass, as it had since the night of my return. It had been reinforced and improved several times, but there it stood.

Every day at noon I went up there and opened the gates to thin the herd.

The constant ring of dead around Sisco was gone, but each day there seemed to be a new set of stragglers. Sometime it was only a dozen, sometimes it was 50.

“Normal people have lunch at noon,” Jack said, walking up the overpass with his baseball bat. “Instead, we come up here and do things that make me want to throw up.”

“Normal people are boring.”

Jack helped every day. I told him he didn’t have to. I knew he hated it. But he still showed up every day. There were always a few others that pitched in as well. It was quick and Sisco would be zombie free for a while. But they always came back.

After we took care of the bodies for the day’s cleansing, I walked over to Dawn’s. She was sitting behind her desk with her feet up.

“All this work to be done and this is how I find you?” I said, hiding a smirk.

“Doesn’t seem to be vehicles to fix since you stopped doing runs.”

I looked around, expecting to find Murray tinkering with something, but found we were alone. I sat on the desk beside her feet and wondered how to speak to this incredible woman.

“How many today?” She asked.

“17.”

“Less and less every day.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t zero. Zero’s what I want it to be.”

“17, though! Easily managed. Think of it as incredible progress.”

“Think about zero. Think of living here without gates and walls. Think of life without wondering if you’re going to get bit and come back as one of them.”

“My God,” she said. “You’re leaving.”

She was right. I hadn’t decided I was leaving. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. But as soon as she said the words I knew she was right. I had to leave.

If I really wanted to eliminate the dead, I had to take the fight to them, I had to find like-minded people to help with the fight, and I needed the idea to spread like fire. I needed to leave.

“I think so,” I said. This was not the talk I wanted to have with Dawn. Somehow this one was easier.

She stood and put her arms around my neck. I felt urges, most of them pulling in opposite directions. Did I dare put my arms around her, or did I crack a joke and retreat back to my house like I normally did?

I couldn’t do either. Couldn’t move my arms. Couldn’t form words. Her eyes had mine locked to hers. Was this what it was like to be hypnotized?

She laughed, which said a lot about how dumb the look on my face was. Then my world exploded.

Her lips were on mine. Warm. Soft. Better than I had ever imagined them to be. I don’t know how long we stood there kissing. It seemed like hours, yet also like it wasn’t long enough.

Eventually she pulled away and locked my eyes again. She studied them, as though if she stared long enough she would be able to see my thoughts. Then she closed her eyes, rested her forehead against mine, and said, “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Within seconds of Gianni hitting the ground, he was swarmed by zombies. Out of sight, but not out of earshot. The screams were something a person never got used to. Gianni was gone, and there was no saving him this time.

Not that I had time. Behind the funnel, Jansen and I were locked in a grapple. Someone was kneeling beside Dave, telling him to stay calm. Ferguson sat off to the side, rocking slightly, and staring at the hand that no longer had a thumb.

“Dawn!” Jack yelled. “They’re coming in.”

Jack was standing at the mouth of the funnel staring at the mass of dead that were slowing filing in. The first one would be through in seconds.

My momentary distraction gave Jansen an opening, which he used to ram a knee into my gut. I would have doubled over if he hadn’t been holding me up. I wanted to pull away, and maybe go puke my guts out, but I held on even as he swung me around and slammed me into the side of the overpass. There wasn’t much air still in my lungs, and that knocked the rest of it out. I gasped.

“Shouldn’t have come back. There’s nothing left here for you.” He punched me in the ribs to accentuate each sentence. “What did you come back for anyway? These people? You think they’re worth it?”

The first zombie cleared the funnel. Dawn stabbed upward under the chin and let it fall just behind her. Jack looked down at the zombie, then at the funnel.

“We need to move it back!” He said.

Dawn and Jack started to pull the funnel backward. Ferguson fought his way to his feet and started to pull with his good hand.

Dave, who had worked his way into a sitting position, directed the security guards who were still awake to help.

Jansen watched all this happen, and I felt his anger rise.

“People are worth it,” I said with a wheeze. “Not you. But most people.”

I reached toward the funnel with one hand and tugged. It wasn’t moving at all because of me, but it pissed Jansen off, and that was good enough.

He gave a cry of rage and shoved me to the ground.

“Stop!” He called out to his security team. They either didn’t hear him or ignored him. He looked down at Dave with disgust on his face. “You’re letting this happen?”

“A good leader knows when he’s beat.”

“How would you know what a good leader would do?”

Jansen put his hands on the funnel and shoved against everyone else. He wasn’t strong enough to move it back the other way, but it was enough to stop it from moving.

“What are you doing?” Jack cried out. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

“It doesn’t matter!”

I stared at Jansen. The man was a waste of a human being. He’d rather die and take everyone on the overpass with him than admit he was wrong.

No one deserved to die at the hands of a zombie, not even Jansen. It was even worse to cause someone else to be killed by the dead. No matter the circumstance, it was just wrong.

I ran at Jansen and put my shoulder into his back, forcing him up and over the funnel wall. He disappeared immediately in a sea of clawing hands and snapping teeth.

The others looked at me, but I had no excuse. In that moment, I was as bad as Jansen.

I grabbed the funnel and started to pull. Everyone joined back in until we had it positioned just on the cusp of the downhill, just like Jack had mentioned a few weeks earlier.

It worked much better. Just like Jack had predicted, our team could just make a kill and let the zombie fall. The slope of the overpass, and gravity, took care of the rest.

Members of the security team joined in, taking turns at the funnel entrance, or sitting and spotting live zombies in the amassing pile below us. Just when that pile threatened to become a real problem, something incredible happened. The people of Sisco opened the inner gate.

These people weren’t used to traveling outside and killing zombies. They were the people that enjoyed the protection of a place like Sisco. They helped grow food, maintained buildings, patched up injuries, or helped to coordinate all the work that the settlement needed. They weren’t warriors, but every single one of them was a survivor.

The gate opened and bodies were dragged away. One by one at first, but soon carts showed up and the bodies disappeared faster. When one of the corpses turned out to still have a little bite left, it was dealt with quickly.

We started to need breaks from what we referred to as ‘the kill floor.’ It was just an hour’s rest and some water, but it reinvigorated us and there always seemed to be another body willing to take a turn.

The night turned into morning, and the morning into afternoon. The dead were still coming, but it was no longer a sea of bodies. It was barely a trickle.

“What’s that?” Jack asked, nodding toward the schlepper.

“Oh, shit! I forgot about Murray.”

We called for replacements on the killing floor and made our way down the overpass, killing the few zombies that turned our way as we went.

I jumped up onto the schlepper and peered down into the small window. It was completely covered in a mix of mud and blood. Jack cleared away any of the dead that took interest in us while I fumbled with the handle and opened the door.

Murray was still inside. Vomit covered his chest and his head lolled to the side, eyes closed.

“Poor old guy,” I said. “His heart just couldn’t take it.”

I reached in and started to pull him out. He screamed and I thought I was going to have my own heart attack.

“Get away from me you soulless bastards!” Murray screamed, hands in front of his face.

He looked at me and Jack, squinting against the afternoon sun. Realization dawned on him that we were live humans and that we had no plans to eat him.

“Did we win?” he asked.

Jack and I laughed as I helped him out of the schlepper’s cockpit. “Come on, Murr. Let me show you my home.”

To say I was screwed was like saying a world full of walking corpses was an inconvenience. I stood on top of the overpass, that led into Sisco, blocked from getting into the settlement by a large funnel. Hundreds of zombies were bearing down on me, and I didn’t have a single weapon on me. Screwed.

I could’ve given up. I could’ve lied down, closed my eyes, and hoped the end would be quick. That just wasn’t me. If they were going to get me, they were going to work for it.

I kicked the closest zombie in the chest, sending it sprawling into several other dead behind it. From the other side, a zombie lunged. I side-stepped and spun it around, letting its own momentum carry it back into the crowd of corpses.

Each attack I fended off caused me to retreat by a few inches. I turned and eyed the opening of the funnel. Someone, probably Jansen, cocked the hammer of a handgun and made tsking sounds.

I was going to try anyway. A bullet was better than teeth. Then there was the distinct clang of metal hitting pavement. A few feet away was my machete. There was no hesitation. I dove, rolled, and came up with it in my hand. I felt like myself again.

Zombies fell with throats split open, skulls cleaved in half, and necks that no longer had heads. They were going down much faster, but fresh zombies just kept crawling over the dead ones. The machete bought me some time, but not much.

I didn’t realize I had still been retreating until my back bumped into the funnel. It’s odd where the mind can go even in a life-threatening situation. Mine wondered if I could throw my machete and take out Jansen or Dave before the horde took me.

A honking horn sounded in the distance. Then, a screaming engine. I didn’t have time to investigate, but both the horn and the engine were getting louder.

A few kills later, headlights were shining through the gaps of the horde. The familiar sound of a body bouncing off of a car repeated over and over and over again. The nose of a car poked through the horde, easing into a halt and only missing me by a few feet. The engine still screamed and the tires spun, but it was done moving from the dead underneath it.

It was a black 2-door, and Gianni was screaming from behind the wheel.

“Marshall!” he called. “I’m here for you, you son of a bitch!”

And I thought I was dramatic! After spending so much time with Gianni, I knew where he was coming from, but it was probably the worst time to pick a fight.

“Clark!” Dawn’s voice called from behind me.

I turned to see guns in the still-bound hands of Dawn, Jack, and Ferguson. Some of the security team was down on the ground, others stood with hands in the air and shame on their faces. Dave and Jansen stood mouths agape, staring at the Gianni.

I put down the closest zombie and scrambled through the funnel. As I finished cutting my friends’ hands loose, I heard gunfire.

Gianni was trying to fight his way to us from his car, but he was overrun. I scooped up a gun sitting on the ground next to one of the unconscious security goons and stepped through the funnel. Jack reached out and grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t,” he said.

“What if it was you, out there?” He shook his head, and his grip tightened. “What if it was me?”

The look on his face, and in his eyes, softened and he let me go. Better than that, he followed me out. So did Dawn. And to my surprise, so did Ferguson.

We stabbed, shot, shoved, kicked and punched, trying to open a lane between us and Gianni. He was fighting hard. Stabbing with a knife in one hand and smashing with the butt of the gun in the other hand. He was out of ammo, but not out of fight.

I pushed harder, barely clearing enough room to slide my body through. It was too reckless, but the logical part of my brain was off. I was working on instinct alone. I raised my machete and barely stopped it from coming down on Gianni’s head.

“I got him!” I called. “Go back!”

The path we cut to get to Gianni had closed in, so we started clearing a new one.

“You’re a crazy bastard,” Gianni called over the noise.

“I’m crazy?” I stabbed through a zombie’s forehead and shoved it into the dead behind it. “What happened to not getting a scratch on that car?”

We cleared the horde and sprinted for the opening in the funnel. Jack, then Dawn, then me. Gianni stopped short when he saw Dave. His gun came up, aimed at Dave’s head.

“Gianni!” I called. “This is not the time. You’re empty anyway.”

“No, I’m not.” He pulled back the hammer. “I saved one round for myself. Or maybe I saved it for you.”

Dave only stared at Gianni like a man living his worst nightmare.

“I loved her. And you walled her for it.”

Understanding dawned on Dave’s face, followed by more terror.

“It was you?” Dave asked. “I… I… I…”

Then, chaos was unleashed.

Everything happened at once. A zombie grabbed Gianni from behind and bit deep into his neck. As Gianni fell backward, he fired his last bullet hitting Dave in the shoulder. Jansen pulled out a handgun, that no one knew he had, and pointed it at me. Ferguson reached out and put a hand on top of the gun, pushing it down as it went off. The bullet hit the pavement in front of me, but not before turning Ferguson’s thumb into chunks of flesh and bone.

I grabbed Jansen. He grabbed me back and were locked in a grapple. Normally I could overpower him, I’m sure of it, but my head still felt like it was full of mush. Most of the other onlookers were frozen in shock or rushing to the aid of one injury or another.

I wrestled for my life, and probably the lives of all those in Sisco, while Gianni, Dave, and Ferguson all screamed in pain. Not even the moans of a thousand zombies could drown it out, but it came close. We were all screwed.

The pickup surged forward spitting muddy rainwater behind it. There was a horde of zombies in front of me, but there was also the Sisco gate, which was being held open by Murray and the schlepper.

The first few zombies that fell under my tires didn’t slow the truck at all. There was a congestion of the dead the closer I got to the opening in the gate. By the time I was halfway through, my tires were spinning in a deep puddle of mud and guts. I stomped the gas but it only made them spin faster. The engine screamed despite the fact that I wasn’t moving. Nothing was going to change that, until zombies started to help push.

The dead that approached from behind bumped up against the tailgate. They could see me through the window and reached for me. Because they’re so smart, they just keep walking forward even with half a vehicle in the way. When enough idiot zombies were at the rear of the truck, I started moving forward again.

My spinning wheels met the pavement of the overpass and the truck shot forward. I reached the apex and glanced up at the guard booth. A terrified face stared back at me. There still wasn’t a gun pointed at me. Good.

I coasted down to the second gate, honking the horn as I went. I stopped just outside of the gate and looked back up at the guard booth. The man had the work ethic of a statue. The gate wasn’t going to open.

Plan B time.

I scrambled out of the driver’s seat and into the truck bed. I took hold of the gate and began to climb.

The zombies weren’t much of a concern for me. It would take them forever to make their way across the overpass. The barbed wire at the top of the gate, however, concerned me quite a bit more.

After some delicate and careful positioning, I had one leg over the top of the fence and was working on the other one.

“Look who’s back from the dead.” A cruel voice was accompanied by a cruel laugh. I didn’t need to look to know it was Jansen. Dave was with him, but he stood a distance behind, and off to the side. He looked like a nervous teenager at a school dance.

“You gonna to shoot me?” I asked.

“Clark! I’m offended. I wouldn’t shoot you. We humans have to stick together, right?”

“Glad to hear that,” I said. “Cause when I get down I’m going to pound your face in.”

“I can’t believe you had to climb at all. I want to apologize for that. Not very friendly of us.” He brought a walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Open gate two, will ya?”

A crackle and a voice came from the other end, protesting.

“Just do it!”

The gate began to open and I gripped the bar beneath my crotch with both hands. I had never ridden a pissed off bull before, but this seemed close. My delicate balance shattered and I fell.

A simple fall from that height wouldn’t have been so bad. It would have hurt, but nothing I couldn’t walk off. This fall was different.

It started with barbed wire tearing at my skin and clothes as I fell from the top of the gate and landed in the bed of the pickup truck.

I didn’t pass out. At least not right away. I wanted to sleep, but knew I couldn’t. Or could I? Something told me it wasn’t a good idea, but that didn’t make sense. Sleep seemed the best idea I’d ever had.

“Get him,” a voice said. “And bring that other thing we found.”

I dipped in and out of consciousness. Hands grabbed me and dragged me out of the bed of the truck and I passed out. When I came to, either seconds or moments later, I was floating while the pavement of the overpass passed underneath me. I went to sleep again.

I woke up again when I was dropped onto pavement. Something solid was being dragged across the pavement behind me and everything faded to black again.

Shuffling noises brought me back. I tried to look around, but it was dark. Had it been moments? Or days?

“Hey sleeping beauty!” Jansen called. “You better get up unless you want to be food.”

Even with half of my brain working, I knew exactly what that meant. I popped into a standing position just in time to see a zombie right in front of me. It gave a bone-chilling growl that seemed deafening at close range.

My hand went to my hip and found that my machete handle wasn’t there. No hunting knife either.

I lashed out, shoving the zombie with all the strength I could gather, and prayed I didn’t get bit in the process. The zombie hit the ground and rolled toward gate one.

I turned to confront Jansen and Dave and found Jack’s funnel set up behind me. Jansen and Dave stood behind it, with the rest of the security goons. Standing among them were Jack and Dawn, their hands tied in front of them. When I looked closer I saw that Ferguson had his hands tied together too.

Jansen was smiling like an idiot with cotton candy in both hands. Dave scowled and watched his head of security with a cautious look. Jansen giggled and nodded toward gate one.

The zombie I had shoved away was still down, but it hadn’t rolled very far. Coming up the overpass were hundreds and hundreds of zombies, all looking at me.