As soon as Ben completed that thought, he watched the older woman trip on a loose deck board. She fell hard on the ground. This would have been painful to watch under ordinary circumstances, but the dozens of hungry dead folk ready to pounce on her made his adrenaline kick harder. The others didn’t hear her cries for help over the crowd of dead cannibals. Their animalistic groans reminded Ben of wind swooshing through an open field.
Ben rolled his window down, yelled something along the lines of, “Hey!” and pointed behind the survivors. Only Victoria understood what Ben was implying. She turned, seeing Ruth struggle to her feet. It was too late. The dead swarmed her. They grabbed her, pinned her down, and clawed at her flesh with dark, dirty, and—in most cases— already-bloodied fingernails. They tore her open like a Christmas present. The old woman tried to scream but her throat filled up with blood. No one would have heard her over the raucous noise of the zombie drove anyway.
“No!” Victoria screamed. She began to double-back, but the zombies had shredded through most of the old woman’s muscle, reaching her bones. What was left was no longer recognizable, a life-size lump of bloody sinew. Her head had detached during the carnage, rolled across the deck like a weakly thrown bowling ball. Victoria’s mouth dropped, color fleeing from her face.
The zombies continued their slaughter, uncaring.
“Shoot the fucker!” Josh yelled. He grabbed Victoria, turning her away from the clutches of a nearby walker. She had been so lost in the living nightmare that she hadn’t seen it coming, nor did she hear her daughters’ warning.
Ranger Steve stepped forward, lining the end of his shotgun with the head of the closest zombie. The groaning corpse had a flap of Ruth’s skin dangling from its mouth like a long string of spaghetti. One pull on the trigger and the zombie’s head disappeared, leaving behind a misty crimson cloud.
Emily slid into the back of Ben’s car. Glancing out of her window and seeing more than six ravenous expressions eagerly wanting in, she shrieked. They pawed the window like cats playing with bits of string. If the glass wasn’t between them, Emily knew she would’ve been torn to shreds much like the old lady.
Brittany came next, sitting in the middle. Quickly, she shielded Emily’s eyes, waiting to find out what had happened to their mother. Seeing their only parent become part the dead horde’s feast was the last thing Emily needed. “Don’t look, sweet pea.”
“Don’t call me sweet pea,” she snapped, hating the name her sister called her throughout her childhood. “Is Mom okay?”
Brittany didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced back to see what was taking so long.
Suddenly, Josh corralled Victoria into the back seat, slamming the door behind her. He heard the women rejoice, saw them embrace each other before turning his attention to his next dilemma—how Ranger Steve and he were going to share the last remaining seat in Ben’s Sonata.
“Come on!” Josh called to the park ranger, who continued firing into the crowd. “Let’s go now!”
Ranger Steve ignored him. He pumped his weapon and squeezed the trigger, claiming another kill.
“Let’s—” Josh shut his mouth when one of the biters rushed the park ranger’s blindside, grabbed him around his broad shoulders, snapping at his neck. Scarlet marks appeared on his jugular, red rivulets soon followed. Immediately, Josh knew the ranger was done for. He yelled in agony as two newcomers latched onto his waist, tangling his feet and sending him to the deck. In a matter of seconds, the horde descended on him, taking advantage of his heroic folly. Josh could only bear a second of the slaughter. The grown man’s blood-curdling screams stretched his eardrums. A vibrantly-red pool crawled out from under the pile of gluttonous creatures.
Josh turned, hoping to see the passenger’s side door open, inviting him to safety. Instead, he was met with an open mouth. Fresh blood ran down the zombie’s chin. It had fed on the old lady, now ready for dessert. Josh pushed the corpse aside like a heavy bag at the gym. The zombie didn’t resist, falling to the side like an inflatable clown. Josh rushed past him, jumping into the passenger’s seat.
He didn’t need to tell Ben to go, the car took off as soon as Josh slammed the door shut.
Zombies latched onto the hood, but Ben was able to shake them off easily. Josh glanced at the side-view mirror, watching them tumble into the distance.
Ben’s Sonata sped down a path only wide enough for one vehicle to travel.
GAMES
CHAPTER NINE
“Ya’ll hear something?” Otis said. “Sounded like it came from downstairs.”
The three of them sat in silence. Moments passed. Then Floyd went back to fucking around with his video camera. “You hur things, Otis. I swears.”
“Naw. I swears I heard somethin’. From the basement. I reckon I heard screaming.”
“Maybe dem’ fuckers are fightin’ again,” Cooter said. “Whose turn is it to check the tapes?”
“Momma’s down der. Ain’t she?” Floyd asked.
“It’s almost sun up, dick-fo-brains. Momma sleeping.”
“Sheet,” Otis said. “Well, Floyd. I’d say it’s your turn.”
“Me? Shee-it.” Floyd slammed the camera down on the table in front of him. “I’ll be right back. Ya’ll better have that sheet fixed by the time I get back. We got ourselves a hunt goddammit.”
Cooter and Otis agreed silently.
Once Floyd left the room, Otis turned to Cooter.
“You ready fo’ tonight, brother?” Otis asked.
“Sheet. Ready as I’ll ever be.” Cooter pointed the camera at his brother. He slid the screen out from the side. In the small screen, he saw Otis perfectly. The red light in the corner blinked at him. He pressed record. “Say something. Pre-hunt speech.”
“Brother,” Otis said, staring into the camera. “This is going to be the best damn hunt we ever held.”
“Sheet. Couldn’t said it better myself.”
Floyd ran into the room. “Ya’ll!”
“Sheet, what is it, Floyd?” Otis rose from his seat. “Just about scared the piss outta me.”
“It’s Bobbi-Jo.”
“What about her?”
“She goan got herself in some sheet.”
“Sheet,” Otis said, scratching his scraggly, dirty hair. “With the contestants I reckon?”
Floyd nodded.
Otis nodded.
Cooter looked worried. “Sheet, Otis. What we goan do?”
“Boys,” Otis said. “Looks like we goan have ourselves game.” He smiled, grabbing the shotgun resting against the wall. “Right fucking now.”
“Open it,” Ben commanded. She didn’t twitch. Ben squeezed her jaw harder. She groaned. “I said, fucking open it. The next time I have to ask, I’m going to do it myself. And that means there will be no need to keep you alive.”
“Um, Ben?” Josh said.
“Not now.”
“Um, yes now. Whatever suicidal thought that’s going through your head, you better hurry it up.” Ben looked at Josh. He was pointing to the far corner of the basement. “You’re on candid camera, buddy.”
Ben noticed what he was pointing out; a small red dot gleamed at them from a small, makeshift window in the concrete.
“Shit,” Ben muttered.
“What are you waiting for?” Ross said. “Break the bitch’s neck and get us the hell out of here.”
“Are you crazy?” Tabby asked him. “There’s no way we’re getting out of here, even if Ben gets us out of these cages. They have guns. We’re unarmed. We don’t stand a chance.”