“Jessica!” Emily yelled. She broke away from Victoria’s grasp, sprinting toward the door.
Before Josh could protest, Emily was opening the slider. Josh seemed to be the only one who saw the writing on the wall. Ranger Steve appeared indifferent about the situation, but Josh knew better. He knew what she was, although, to Emily’s credit, her friend’s body didn’t showcase the familiar signs. She wasn’t missing half her face like some of the others Josh had seen. She wasn’t dragging her entrails behind her. She didn’t writhe her lips in contempt for the living.
Jessica appeared normal with the exception of her blood-caked clothes and the faint red smears around her mouth.
It’s her eyes, Josh thought. It’s her eyes that give it away. They lacked humanity. Two dead vacuums planted in the center of her face. Lifeless little circles. The girl was something less than human.
And Emily was letting it in.
Quietly, Ben climbed into his car. He shut the door slowly, hoping not to draw any attention to himself. Impossible. The clunk of the door closing was loud enough to turn the heads of the dead in his direction. Shit! Ben thought, discovering a few soulless eyes staring right at him. One woman—a camp counselor, her shirt read—hobbled toward him, exposing the right side of her face, which had been completely chewed away. Fresh droplets of blood oozed from the raw muscle. Ben’s throat burned with bile, but he prevented the stomach juices from climbing any higher.
Fuck, they’re changing fast. Judging from the woman’s wound, she couldn’t have been attacked more than a few hours ago.
Ben started the car, grabbing everyone’s attention. One by one the zombies changed their course and began shuffling toward the car. One sprinted ahead of the slow-moving concourse. An eleven-year old boy rushed the car. The little bastard jumped on the hood, crouching like a gorilla. Wildly, he began smashing his fists against the windshield with bloodthirsty rage. He managed to crack the glass after a few tries. Shocked, Ben watched the windshield spider-web. Instead of waiting for the dead kid to break through and rip his throat out, Ben stomped on the gas, sending the kid toppling over the roof, tumbling onto the dirt below. In his rear-view mirror, Ben saw the boy scramble to his feet, wounded, but still motivated by the hunger raging inside his belly. In that moment, Ben thought of throwing the car in reverse, running the little fucker over, making sure the tires crushed his skull in the process. Instead, Ben thought of Jake, wondering if the zombie had a father looking for him, and how he’d feel if he reached Pittsburgh and found his son in the middle of the street with tire marks over what was left of his cranium.
Ben decided not to put the car in reverse. Alternatively, he circled the lot, honking his horn, warning Josh to hurry up. They had overstayed their welcome.
“Don’t!” Josh said, but it was too late. Emily had opened the door, letting Jessica in. The recently-reanimated corpse lunged forward, mouth open, disease-coated saliva dangling from her blood-muddied lips. Emily screamed as Jessica tackled her, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Josh and Victoria rushed to Emily’s side, but Jessica was quicker. Snarling bestially, she mounted Emily, bearing her tiny, yet incredibly dangerous teeth.
Shoulder first, Josh rushed forward, colliding with the infected girl scout. He dislodged her from her prey, and Jessica fell to the floor. While the dead girl scout struggled to regain her footing, Victoria escorted her daughter away from the immediate danger.
Josh hopped to his feet and saw Jessica had already risen to her own. The little bitch growled, crouching like a sumo wrestler waiting for the round to start. Josh backed away cautiously. Jessica followed him like a cat waiting for the precise moment to pounce.
“Still want to stick around?” Josh asked.
Their silence answered for them.
Before Jessica had the chance to fling herself at Josh, a deafening boom made their hearts dive unexpectedly. Jessica’s head suddenly exploded into a million pieces, sending bits of brain matter airborne in a spray of red mist, splattering the oak paneling behind her. Her head had popped like an overfilled water balloon. Gore slowly ran down the walls.
Ranger Steve held his shotgun, tendrils of smoke wafting from the end of the barrel. He shivered as if he had wandered into the winter weather, wet and unclothed. “Oh, God,” he muttered, then scurried behind the receptionist’s desk, reaching the wastebasket in time.
The gurgling sounds of Ranger Steve vomiting was interrupted by the shrill shriek of a girl scout who had nearly been eaten by her friend.
Josh glanced at Emily. She pointed toward the sliding-glass door, mouth agape, unblinking. He turned to see what had caused her outburst.
“Ho. Lee. Shit,” Josh said.
At least thirty zombies were rapidly approaching the open doorway. Evidence that they had already eaten was painted around their mouths, yet their stomachs still growled in harmony.
“Come on!” Ben shouted. He continued circling the parking lot, wasting the gasoline he had just pilfered from people he would never come to know. He had a trail of dead folks in tow, their numbers growing with each lap. At least twenty of them followed Ben lazily, swaying drunkenly and gnashing their teeth together. Some of them approached head on. Ben avoided them by swerving around them. He knew he couldn’t keep it up for long. Only a matter of time before a runner, or a really motivated zombie came to the front of the pack. The boy he thought about crushing was no longer a threat; he had broken his ankle during the fall, only able to crawl.
The internal clock in Ben’s head rapidly approached zero.
The honking continued.
“Who the hell is that?” Victoria asked, yelling over the groaning horde, as they pounded on the glass door.
Josh had been lucky enough to shut it before the pack of killing machines reached the doorway. He knew it would only buy them a few minutes. Had there been a runner in the pack, he probably wouldn’t have made it in time. Josh watched with fascination as they hammered the door with their bloody fists, leaving red smears on the glass.
“Remember that friend I was telling you about?” Josh asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s him. And I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
As if on cue, the glass shattered. The dead stumbled inside, bumping into each other, jockeying for the lead. Many of them tripped over themselves, falling to the ground. The zombies able to keep their balance trampled their counterparts, heading toward their food source.
The group appeared in the recreation center’s entrance. Ben spotted them immediately. He saw Josh with other people—other living people—and instantly became excited with the prospect of other survivors. Josh led them while a legion of zombies hurdled after them. The zombies clumsily followed, many of them falling to the ground while the more aggressive creatures stepped on them without care.
Ben saw some of his followers abandon their efforts, seeking the easier meal. The park ranger raised his shotgun and blew the head off of an approaching zombie. Ben watched its head disappear, bits of brain-meat raining on the wooden steps. He pumped and aimed, taking out the next contender in similar fashion.
“Into the car! Hurry!” Josh commanded.
Ben stretched across the seat, popping the lock on the passenger’s door. It’s gonna be a tight fit, Ben thought to himself, adding up the bodies that were going to squeeze into his four-door sedan.