Zombie Reign (Book 2): Rescue in Detroit Page 3

  “That’s good because if you did and she looked like you, I wouldn’t be interested anyway,” he answered back.

  “Are you saying that I’m not a good looking man, Eric? Tell me then, what is a good looking man then?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Me, or Justin,” he rebutted without hesitation.

  “Maybe Justin,” Claire added to the conversation, with a smile and blushing slightly.

  “I think someone’s got a bit of a crush,” I said pointing to Justin with Claire looking away, her face getting redder by the moment.

  “Who wouldn’t!” he replied, laughing out loud.

  “We are going to have to find an island just to find a place to store your ego,” I said to Justin jokingly.

  “Touché!” Justin exclaimed as he accepted defeat.

  Our light hearted moment was shattered by the sound of a thud at the front door. Everyone scrambled for their weapons and as I approached the noise was heard again. I made my way over to the corner of the window and peered out cautiously.

  The figure on the porch was walking into the door, stumbling back, and then repeating the process. As I peeled back the blinds to get a better look, I could see it was a zombie. Unfortunately that action caught its attention as its head immediately spun in my direction, with its piercing glowing eyes burning right through me. It was now focused on me and released a blood curdling shriek from its bloodstained mouth, exposing a black void surrounded by jagged chipped teeth. Everyone jumped as it struck its gaping jaws against the window and I fell back away from the blinds.

  The zombie continued to screech and claw at the window with such ferocity, we were sure that it would eventually break through. I grabbed my tomahawk and went to the front door.

  “Is it a guy or a chick?” asked Eric as I positioned myself at the front door.

  “By the noise it’s making, I’d say it’s a chick,” said Justin as he readied his AR-15 at the window.

  “It’s a female,” I responded, “and we need to put her down before she breaks that window or invites her friends over.”

  “Is she naked?” asked Eric.

  “What in the hell does that have to do with anything?” I responded, shocked at his question.

  “Why don’t you go to the window and find out for yourself?” replied Justin to his brother.

  “I don’t think she’s your type Eric, especially if she is hungry for brains.” I added to end the awkward conversation. “But you can go over to that window. I need you to get and keep her attention while I sneak out the door and take care of her.”

  “Fine,” Eric said as he wandered over to the window and peeled back the curtains.

  “Justin, you keep Eric covered and I’ll go out onto the porch.”

  As I began to open the door, the zombie was worked into a frenzy seeing Eric at the window. She was striking the window with such force that it was only a matter of time before the glass would break. You could tell Eric was scared shitless and kept looking back at Justin to make sure his sights were on target. I opened the door carefully and readied my tomahawk, bringing it up over my right shoulder. The zombie was leaving a thick, sticky trail of bloody saliva and fleshy bits on the window as it crashed its gaping mouth repeatedly into it. The jagged teeth connected with the window, chipping it.

  “Yep,” Eric said as he studied the rotting jaws of death on the other side of the window, “she’s naked, and not in a good way!”

  Eric was partially right, as from his position all he could see was the zombie from the waist up. As I opened the door and made sure the porch and yard were clear of any more zombies, I saw that she was wearing a pair of black yoga pants. Just yoga pants. They were stained with dried blood and what looked like a mixture of dried vomit and strips of flesh. From behind, I could make out a gaping hole in her left side, which looked like she had been bitten by a shark under the rib cage and extending to her hip. The skin on her back was a marbled grey, offset by the crimson wound that had bubbling yellow fat matter hanging from it.

  Although I only had a brief glimpse of her from the window, I could now see that she was probably just shy of a ton in weight – even with the missing chunk of her. Her hair was a long and stringy scraggly brown mess, full of god knows what. She continued to shriek and bang at the glass as I approached from behind, bringing up my tomahawk for a blow to the back of her skull.

  Just then a large reddish-brown mass slid out from the gaping wound and slapped to the pavement like a placenta being dropped on a hospital floor during childbirth. Along with the mass exiting the void was the most noxious odor I have ever experienced. My reflexes overruled my tactical approach and I began to gag violently. This did not go unnoticed by Eric’s new girlfriend, as she immediately turned in my direction and let out a blood curling screech.

  As she turned to face me, she stepped onto the mass that had fallen from her body and slipped backwards onto her behind. She had an obvious issue with her center of balance with her oversized frame. The zombie was so overweight, even her chins had chins. Her massive body ruptured into a wave of rippling fat as her half-naked body hit the concrete porch in a sickening slapping noise. As she flattened out, more bloody masses shot out of the wound as innards made their way outwards. The stench was sickening and trumped the visual display taking place.

  I seized the opportunity given and lunged to her right side, holding her shoulder down for support. I brought the tomahawk blade down into the front of her skull in a crushing blow. The blade carved through the zombie’s forehead and into the brittle bone almost halfway through to the other side. I placed a well-positioned right foot on the upper set of chins and tugged at the handle to retrieve my blade. I wiped the skull and brain fragments on the front of the yoga pants, adding a wet layer to the encrusted matter.

  From the distance I could faintly hear more shrieking, as if in response to the call of the zombie I had just finished off. It may have been that they were seeking out other prey, but I wasn’t going to stay out on the porch to find out. At least the zombie was silenced from answering back I thought as I turned to return inside. As careful as I was to not slip on the mess around me, I was unable to avoid trudging through the zombie gumbo in making my way to the door.

  As I came back into the house, some of the unpleasant odor followed me. The only way I knew this was the reaction from everyone in the room as I entered. It cleared out rather quickly, with everyone covering their mouth and noses in hands and sleeves. I found Eric back in the kitchen dry heaving into the sink.

  “What has been seen cannot be unseen,” I said as I laughed and patted him on the back.

  “What was seen?” said Tommy as he entered the room from the hallway.

  “Eric’s girlfriend is out on the porch,” I answered with a smirk, “go take a look.”

  “What in the hell…” Tommy said as he peered out the front window, “you sure made a mess out of my porch…and Eric’s girlfriend doesn’t look much better. Are those yoga pants?”

  “I know, right?” said Justin. “What could be worse than being a topless zombie in yoga pants?”

  “She’s topless?” Tommy asked as he took a second look. “Wow, she is.”

  “I don’t know if I’m more horrified by the undead, or by you guys.” I said as I walked back to the living room and the map. “What did you find out Tommy?”

  “That we’re pretty much fucked,” he replied as he began pointing out areas on the map, “all of these areas are spoken for. No one is getting in, and no one is getting let out. If it isn’t the military setting up local bases, it’s the locals standing their ground.”

  “Well then, we best get the truck in order. We’re going on a field trip,” I responded as I held the blade of my tomahawk over the lit stove burner to disinfect it. The stench of burning zombie residue rivaled that of what I had tracked into the house. The CDC couldn’t find a cure to the virus, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take precautions to avoid cross contamination.

  “I
got a text from my cousin Jamie. He’s been trapped in a club downtown and we’re going to get him out.”

  “He’s the DJ at that topless club isn’t he?” asked Eric with a smirk.

  “Yes,” I replied, “well, he was. Now he’s stuck there and looking for a helping hand. Who’s with me on this one?”

  Eric, Justin and Tommy all volunteered, but I recommended that only two of us should go. Tommy didn’t feel comfortable leaving his home unprotected and that left Eric and Justin. Since Eric had a newly discovered preoccupation with half-naked zombies, it was agreed that Justin and I would go. We didn’t need Eric getting tunnel vision and getting eaten due to the sensory overload he might experience at the Gentleman’s Club. Claire would stay put and help hold down the base.

  We went over the map, deciding to commit to travelling along westbound I-94 into Detroit. Along the way to rescue Jamie, there were a couple of Sheriff’s offices that we would scope out for the parts needed to fortify the truck. If we were lucky enough, we would come across supplies and other useful items there.

  I opted to load out in a tactical vest, dual pistols, slung AR-15 and a single SOG tomahawk. Justin opted for his Rock River Arms LAR-15 Entry Tactical Rifle (fancy jargon for a really nice AR-15) with Bushnell TRS-25 red dot sight and mounted light. He also wore a tactical vest with a 9mm handgun and his Browning BPS Hunter 12 gauge shotgun. We brought along plenty of extra ammo for the weapons as well, figuring that the entry and exit from the club Jamie was in would bring us heavy opposition from the undead. This was planned as a day trip, but plenty of hiking experience taught me that preparation is survival. An ample supply of food and water were added to our gear in the event we weren’t able to stay on schedule.

  We had a change of plans and decided to use the SUV Eric had gotten, as use of the truck would leave too much equipment exposed. Extra fuel was loaded into the back to make sure we didn’t need to make any unnecessary stops. I asked Tommy for some diesel in the event we came across any useful vehicles that needed alternate fuels. I was quickly learning to establish back-ups to the back-up plans. The SUV would also allow for more passengers, should we encounter other survivors, and also give us room to bring back parts for the truck fortification. More trips into the heart of the city would have to wait, but this would give us a good base line for what would work and what wouldn’t.

  We all went over the route and planned out what the priorities would be along the way. Rescuing Jamie was the top priority, while acquiring an additional vehicle and equipment would be secondary. Survival supplies were not our main focus, as Tommy seemed to have enough rations to supply the next several generations of survivors. We would still keep an eye out for any potential gems that would need a revisit. We were prepared for the best, but expected the worst.

  Chapter 4

  We waited until the following dawn to make our departure. As we prepared to leave the house, Claire ran up to and hugged me tightly as she bumped her forehead on one the AR-15 magazines on the tactical vest.

  “Ouch!” she said as she pulled back and rubbed the new scrape to her noggin.

  “Don’t worry,” I said looking down at her and kissed her head, “we’ll be back before that heals. Just make sure it’s the last scrape you get before we get back, got it?”

  “I’ll try,” she said as she tried to hold back her tears, “just come back.”

  “Don’t worry,” I reassured her with a smile, “everything is going to be just fine.”

  I went to say my goodbyes to the rest of the group. Eric was sitting in the living room with his ear buds in and singing to himself, “You’re a stupid pro, you’re a stupid pro…”

  Tommy yelled over the noise filters in Eric’s ears, “The lyrics are ‘stupid hoe’ you moron!”

  “Whatever,” Eric said as he waived off Tommy in dismissal, continuing to sing his customized lyrical melody.

  “Just call if you run into trouble,” Tommy said as we turned to leave, “Godspeed.”

  We left out the front door and got to the SUV, I opted to drive with Justin riding passenger. Justin was an excellent shot and could provide offensive or defensive fire as needed, while I had more experience with pursuit and evasive driving maneuvers. The street was silent and relatively quiet. The sound of gunfire could still be heard, but was becoming ever more distant.

  As we drove out toward the freeway, I was sure to take the back roads and stay off of the main streets. There were a few zombies here and there, but nothing like the chaos we had encountered when we had ventured out to the drug store. There were no other vehicles on the roadway as we approached the on ramp to I-94 Westbound, which would take us to Detroit. As there were no traffic hazards, and no one to object, I began to text “otw now – how r u holding up?” to Jamie while driving. Surprisingly enough the message was sent and I was still getting service. There was no telling how much longer cell service would be available. As a side note, texting and driving during a zombie apocalypse is entirely acceptable and cell phone service improved once it was free of competitive traffic on the towers.

  I entered the freeway and immediately noticed how void of vehicles it was. There was almost nothing to be seen. Traditional zombie lore always had freeways littered with abandoned cars, but this was an entirely fictional element for the sake of Hollywood. In reality, it appeared as if everyone had heeded the CDC messages and the roadways were virtually clear of any obstructions. There was an occasional vehicle that was wrecked off of the road and a few other travellers zipping by, but for the most part we were unobstructed. Playing chicken with the wandering undead was the largest obstacle in our way.

  Our first stop was not too far from the start of our journey, and was located near the freeway. We got off of I-94 and travelled west towards the Macomb County Jail facility. The side roads to the jail were more in tune with the Hollywood imagery - littered with automobiles that had been abandoned and, as most main side roads were, thriving with the undead.

  I was able to navigate the SUV around the abandoned vehicles, but as we got closer to the jail the density of roaming zombies increased. It was clear that we were not going to be able to get close enough to the jail without taking considerable damage to the vehicle. There was the possibility of attempting to clear out the undead, but even our extended ammo supply wouldn’t hold for both this venture and our main rescue mission.

  The further we drove, the more zombies we attracted and were following behind. Some of the runners were ridiculously fast, mostly attributed to the fact that they never tire. As the crowd of followers grew, it was obvious that we may reach our destination but end up being surrounded once we got there. Both Justin and I agreed that getting to the jail would have to be a priority mission for another time. We simply weren’t equipped enough to take on this daunting task just yet.

  We swung back around and got back on I-94, continuing west. I figured it should take us a good half an hour to get to downtown Detroit and we kept our guard up and eyes peeled for trouble. Luckily the high speeds we were able to maintain on the freeway kept the runners at bay, with the center dividing wall along the route keeping zombies from flooding our lane of traffic from the eastbound side. The high embankments kept the zombies at bay on our westbound side, as some tumbled and rolled down the hill once they locked onto our moving vehicle. The normal drive to the heart of the city took twice as long as it should have, due to both the wandering zombies in the roadway and the multitude of trash that had found its way onto I-94. Sanitation hadn’t been the best in Detroit to begin with, but only got worse once the city services stopped.

  I began to think about the infected dog that had taken Kate from me. Detroit was no stranger to packs of wild and rabid dogs, but what of the multitude of rats that were bound to have spread like wildfire around the city? The black plague would have nothing on what these vermin would be capable of spreading. Don’t even get me started on the cat populace.

  As we crossed I-94 at the I-75 interchange, the road was the clea
rest at this peak and we slowed for an elevated view of the surrounding area. I stopped at the highest point, assured that there were no threats within sight. Justin brought his AR-15 up to eye level as we exited the vehicle and began to scan the area for threats as if he was a trained sniper.

  “What kind of scope is that?” I asked.

  “Red dot,” Justin replied, “why do you ask?”

  “Just curious as to why you would be using a scope with no magnification to check the area is all.”

  Justin just shrugged his shoulders and continued to scan our surroundings through his scope. Heck, if it made him feel better, who was I to criticize. There was just more to what he was doing than he let on.

  I guess that even if Justin had been using a magnified scope, it wouldn’t have mattered. All that was to be seen was evidence of destruction. For as far as the human eye could see there were small plumes of smoke and fires burning. From our elevated position, you could hear more gunfire and the loud shrill pitch of the undead pursuing their victims. The neighborhood streets that could be seen from the overpass were littered with roaming zombies. We decided to get back to the vehicle and agreed that the side streets of the inner city should be avoided at all costs. Not too much different from how things were prior to the virus outbreak. Not much different at all. Yesterday’s carjacking was todays car snacking.

  My cellphone finally buzzed with a reply from Jamie, “good - in the lot now”. We were only a few miles out and would be there soon. I knew from the layout of the Gentleman’s Club that the customer parking was located off of Michigan Avenue and was secured by a high fence surrounded by a gate and razor wire. What I couldn’t figure out is why Jamie would be texting me saying that he was in the lot. If he had been hiding out in the club trying to survive for all this time, why would he casually stroll out in the lot to be picked up like there was no urgency? The hair on my neck stood up and I became more than a little alarmed.

  We drove on westbound and exited to get to Woodward, and then towards Michigan Avenue. Driving down Woodward was like driving through a ghost town. Unlike the neighborhood herds of zombie activity we had seen, the urban environment of the downtown area seemed less occupied. I slowed our pace as we drove through the business district south of Grand Circus Park, and there was a feeling that you were being watched from every direction.