Zombie Reign (Book 2): Rescue in Detroit Page 5

  His body jerked and twitched as she swooned and dove into his flesh over and over again. Before his companion could get up and flee, two more undead beauties had trapped him in the booth and he succumbed to the same fate. Their undead skulls comically collided as they fought for dominance over feasting on him. His faceless screams knocked Jamie out of his shock and realizing what was happening, he immediately ran to shelter.

  “That’s when I took off and ran to the old cellar passageway. Tool was bouncing at the front door and was able to make it down there with me.” Jamie said as he physically shuddered from the recollection.

  The cellar passageway was the old time rum runner tunnel entrance that we used to sneak into the club from. It had been sealed years ago, cut off from the underground utility tunnels that were secured shortly after 9/11. If Jamie hadn’t had remembered where it was, he surely would have shared the fate of the club goers.

  “So what happened with these guys?” I asked as I searched one of the bodies from the vestibule.

  “They were a local gang from Southwest who like to come here showing their colors and causing problems. They came in here as the girls were still feasting…and…well…” Jamie trailed off as he pointed towards the back kitchen area.

  “Well, what?” I asked not caring to venture to where Jamie was indicating, preferring he tell me outright.

  “They came in with guns blazing. I’m not sure if they had intended on robbing the place or something else. Anyway, when the shooting started my first thought was that the police or the military had come in to help. I came back up to see what was going on and…these sickos were taking turns with a couple of the girls…with the ones that had turned. Tool and I stayed hidden and that’s when I was texting you...”

  Justin and I looked at each other in disbelief. How could someone lose their humanity to the point of doing such things? What Jamie was describing was beyond the cruelty I thought people would be capable of, even in times as desperate this. You could tell Jamie was still in shock over what he had seen as he continued.

  “These sick bastards actually corralled the zombies into the cooler in the back. The cold kept them real slow, but not exactly frozen. They would lure people here and take whatever they wanted, killing some and the rest...well, the rest were forced into the cooler to feed the zombies. At first it was just late patrons showing up or people trying to find someplace to hide. Then they found my phone that I dropped one night when we were trying to sneak out and used it to text everyone on my contact list. There was nothing we could do…” Jamie trailed off as he broke into tears.

  “Jamie,” I said as I placed my hand reassuringly on his shoulder, “you’re right - there was nothing you could do man, it’s not your fault.”

  “So,” Justin inquired, “are they still in the freezer?”

  “They would throw them in the freezer to feed the zombies…” he repeated again as he stared down at the floor sobbing, becoming increasingly detached and unaware that we were even there with him.

  I could only imagine what Jamie and Tool had been through. The thought of knowing that their phone was used to call out for help, a false distress beacon that would end up being a death trap to their friends, must have been unbearable to witness. They had done the best they could, but they were still alive – that’s all one could ask for.

  I advised Tool of our plans for establishing a safe haven and offered them the chance to join us. He was grateful for the offer and agreed to accompany us on the trip back. We agreed to gather all the recovered weaponry and resources we could and get back to Tommy’s as soon as possible. I asked Tool to stay with Jamie while he worked out the nightmare replaying in his mind.

  Tool agreed to stay with Jamie at the club and to start gathering any supplies left, while Justin agreed to traverse with me back through the tunnels and recover the SUV. We opted to go underground again in the event more gang members showed up or we encountered any zombies. The tunnels were surprisingly safe in comparison to the streets above. At least Tool and Jamie had weapons to defend themselves should they receive any additional visitors before our return.

  Justin and I made our way through the tunnels and brought the SUV up to the front security gate. I backed the vehicle up into the lot and we loaded it with the scavenged weapons, general supplies and a good amount of alcohol. I know what you are thinking while you are reading this, but the alcohol was taken out of necessity. Currency was useless, and commodities such as a good whiskey were the new gold.

  We re-grouped in the kitchen area before taking off and it was agreed that something needed to be done about the freezer full of undead. It was agreed that it be best if the entire place was leveled. Opening all of the natural gas valves in the kitchen was a start. We would blow the place to kingdom come as we departed, as the club served no practical purpose and we didn’t want to give other gang members anything to return to.

  With the entire club hissing with natural gas, we drove out of the lot and down the street. Justin landed a couple of well-placed long shots through the front vestibule door, creating enough spark to ignite the gas and sent the entire establishment up in a ball of flame. The implosion resulting from the gas eruption and rush of oxygen from the outside splintered the outer walls and caused the roof to collapse. It was a feeling of closure to know that we all survived this incident and put the dead to rest. With one small exception - the sentry I left tied up in the field. I figured he was as good as dead anyway.

  As we began driving back to Tommy’s, my mind wandered again to the depth of despair that this urban environment must be experiencing. There was no place for the weak in Detroit before the zombie apocalypse and even the stone cold killers were now going to have their hands full it would seem, given the unspeakable acts that took place back at the club.

  I always got a kick out of suburbanites who flocked to the downtown attractions, or those who grew up in the “D” and then “regrettably” moved away. They were never letting a moment pass on social media to boast about their latest visit to the hippest club, trendy restaurant, casino or sporting venue downtown. They weren’t truly from the “D” – they were no better than the candy assed tourists who visited year round. The real “D” was rampant with public corruption, daily horrific violence where bodies were dumped in abandoned buildings like trash, and a drug trade running the streets with terror and intimidation. Checked in on Foursquare or Facebook at Slows BBQ in the “D”? How cute.

  The thugs who ran Detroit’s underground and seedy crime culture had their first real territorial competition. Zombies didn’t have a race or economic agenda, and they didn’t discriminate on age. They didn’t want your Cartier’s, and they didn’t care if you had spinners on your 20’s. They simply wanted to eat your flesh and assimilate you. Class warfare and race relations had no impact on their ultimate goal – domination over the living.

  Chapter 6

  “So let me get this straight,” Tommy said as he sat with his feet up on the table taking a swig of his beer, “your name is Tool?”

  “Yep, that’s right.”

  “Do you know that according to the Urban Dictionary, it means ‘one who lacks the mental capacity to know he is being used’?” asked Eric in a tone that was condescending at best.

  “Believe it or not, my real name is Eric,” Tool said directly to Eric as he glared at him from across the table, “but since your mother gave you that name in Spanish and it translates from the Urban Dictionary to ‘useless fucking douchebag’, I prefer to go by the nickname of Tool, which is actually after the best band in the world.”

  “Your mother gave me more than just a name, you fucking boot!” Tommy mocked Tool in defense of Eric.

  “Oh, now that’s a comeback,” Jamie chimed in at Tommy, “the old ‘your momma’ stand-by joke. That’s real original you fucking hick!”

  “What? Next you’re going to crack some racist joke about us being out of work because no one needs their lawns cut anymore?” Justin added to the h
eated joust of insults.

  This was getting out of control and needed to be addressed. I grabbed my SOG tomahawk and slammed the sharpened blade into the middle of the kitchen table for effect, as everyone stumbled back in surprise.

  “I understand everyone is under a lot of stress and has seen more than their share of some pretty awful shit lately,” I said as I addressed the entire group, “but we’ve got to put aside our petty smack talk and bigotry if we are going to survive. There’s no time for this bullshit, or your petty attitudes anymore – that shit needs to stop. The only thing that we have now is each other and the hope for a better fucking day than the last. Tommy, we are your guests and thankful for the hospitality, but at the same time you need to chill the fuck out with your abrasiveness! Claire doesn’t need this bullshit and quite frankly, neither do I…”

  I grabbed the handle of my tomahawk to remove it from the table, but it was stuck and wouldn’t budge. Nothing collapses a dramatic moment like making a complete fool of yourself.

  “You want Claire to get that for you?” Jamie quipped, as the entire room ruptured into laughter. It was good to see that he was coming back to the living. Between Jamie and Eric, there was sure to be no shortage of stand-up comedy.

  I think I made my point at the expense of my pride, but it was well worth it. Tool was kind enough to retrieve my weapon for me with little effort. I sheathed the blade as I walked out of the room and went down into the basement.

  I grabbed my AR-15, pulled up a stool to the workbench Tommy had set up, and began breaking down the weapon for cleaning. It was good to take a few minutes of quiet time to reflect on everything that had happened recently. The bad part was that my body began a massive adrenaline dump and I began to feel physically ill from all of the suppressed emotions and stressors from the past outing. Now that I had finally had a moment to sit and relax, my body began to ache horribly and my hands began shaking as I tried to run the cleaning rod through the barrel of my gun.

  “It’s catching up with you,” said Tommy as he entered the room from upstairs, “all that stress needs to go somewhere, you know?”

  Tommy had served in the USMC and had seen several tours of duty in Middle East. He never specifically talked about where he was deployed to or his operational role, but snippets here and there let you know that it was some serious shit. I had seen a lot domestically in all of my years as a cop, no stranger to the worst humanity has to offer. I could only imagine that the horrors Tommy had to live with were exponentially worse than what I had been through in my career.

  Now retired from the Marine Corps, Tommy made no effort to hide the fact that he was receiving treatment for his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That was a positive thing, as many of the soldiers returning from war with his condition often failed to recognize the need for help and ended up in a bad way. Given the current state of events, PTSD would be something we would all have to deal with in one way or another for now on.

  Tommy was absolutely right though. Not only were my hands shaking, but I felt a wave of anxiety giving me the cold sweats and rapid heartbeat. I put down the upper receiver I had been trying to clean and tried to regain my composure.

  “So this is what it’s like, eh?” I said as I looked across the bench at Tommy, trying my best to hide how rapid my physical condition was declining.

  “Let me get you something for that,” Tommy said as he turned and went over to the bar area and rummaged through the cupboards.

  Tommy grabbed a bottle of water and had something in his hand. He came over to the workbench and gave me the water. I took a drink and he extended his hand over the table, dropping several pills next to me.

  “What are these?” I asked, having already come to my own conclusion.

  “Just something that I picked up at our visit to the drugstore,” he replied with a grin.

  I looked at the pills and knew from all my years of experience on the road what they were. It didn’t make much difference. It wasn’t like I was going to get in trouble for taking medication that wasn’t prescribed for me, and I sure wasn’t going to have to be concerned with failing a drug test for work anytime soon.

  I cracked open the bottle of water and downed the pills. Part of me hoped Tommy would have come back with a red pill and a blue pill – giving me the choice of which one to take. I would gladly have taken the red pill and leave this reality behind. There was no waking up from this nightmare. There was no magic pill to make it go away and change the reality of what life had become.

  Maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten in some time, or maybe I subconsciously wanted the pills to work faster, but the rush of calm and tranquility hit me suddenly and completely. I had a feeling of calm and contentment that I hadn’t felt since before the outbreak had started. I wanted to take more just to keep the sensation going, but knew that taking any more meds would incapacitate me and be a selfish act on my part. Being wacked out on pills wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

  “Good shit, am I right?” Tommy said with a laugh.

  “Yeah,” I replied to the extent my mouth would let me formulate coherent speech, “but now we’re gonna need to hit more drugstores!”

  We both got a laugh out of that one and Jamie came downstairs to see what was going on. Jamie instantly picked up on what was taking place, and Tommy grabbed some medicinal aides for him as well. Jamie rejected the offer for water, downing the pills like candy. I had forgotten that Jamie had a pre-existing back injury that made him retire as well. He required pain medication on a regular basis and I wondered how he would manage without his regular meds.

  “How’s the back doing Jamie?”

  “It’ll be better now, thanks for the meds.”

  “No problem,” said Tommy, “got them off of a dead guy so I figured there’s a chance it would have the same effect on you.”

  “Well, at least you didn’t say you got them off of my ‘momma’…” Jamie quipped back sarcastically.

  I decided to quickly change the subject, as I didn’t want to repeat the incident in the kitchen again.

  “Sorry we weren’t able to get the parts for the truck.”

  “Yeah,” Tommy replied, “Justin told me about the problem getting to the sheriff’s vehicles. Any chance we could try it again with more people?”

  “We can certainly try, but I think that we found travelling the freeway was fairly decent. The SUV is no worse for wear, so we might be wasting our time in worrying so much about the truck. Maybe we could try some of the local departments for the parts?”

  “We’ll see, let’s get some grub and sleep on it. We can talk things over more tomorrow.”

  After cleaning up all the weapons and having a nice warm meal, we settled in to get some rest. We had developed a system for security during the night, which meant that everyone had to share a rotation of guard duty at some point. I volunteered for the middle watch which ran from 2am to 4am. It would split up my sleep pattern, but Tommy agreed to switch off with me every other day and share his 4am to 6am shift. It really didn’t make any difference to me, as it was difficult to get solid sleep anyway given the circumstances.

  I don’t remember what time I had finally fallen asleep, but the combination of a full meal and the meds Tommy gave me countered the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I fell into a fairly deep sleep and my mine was replaying the recent horrors in my dreams.

  I had that dream where you wake up in a familiar place from a peaceful sleep. It had the serene haze of a calm and quiet setting, and when I woke up I found that I had been sleeping in my own bed. The room was dimly lit and I was startled by a shadowy figure in the corner. The shadowy figure had its head down as it began to move towards me out of the darkness. As it turned its head in my direction, dimly lit yellow glowing eyes beamed at me through long dark hair.

  It was Kate. As she made her way towards me, she tilted her head to the side and moaned the same words over and over again, “Why? Why?”

  I tried to call out her name
, but I couldn’t speak. I tried to get up to take her into my arms, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen as this apparition shuffled through the darkness towards me, still crying out and reaching for me.

  Her arms extended out towards me from the opposite side of the bed, rotten with grey colored peeling flesh and black decomposition. They began to twitch as they crackled and stretched out to twice their normal length, bones snapping as they adjusted to their abnormal state. Her head turned upright and her jaws opened wide, exposing large rusted colored needles in the jutting from her gums. A thick black mass suddenly shot out from her gaping mouth like a serpent’s tongue, across the bed and into mine as she let out a scream. I gagged as it pierced my closed lips and scraping over my teeth, forcing its way in. The appendage began to suffocate me as it made its way down my throat.

  I woke up screaming and soaked in sweat, my face covered in tears. Eric, who was on watch at the time, came running into the room.

  “You alright?” he asked as he found nothing attacking in the room and recognized my outburst for what it was.

  “I’ll be fine,” I replied waving him off, “I’m sure it’s the first of many rough nights to come.”

  As Eric left I curled back up under the blankets, but couldn’t find the peace of mind I needed to fall back asleep. I realized how deep I had been burying any thoughts of Kate lately and it was taking its toll. I was suppressing massive amounts of guilt for what had happened, which was only being eclipsed by my sense of loss.

  While we were determined to gather more survivors, I knew the odds were against us in keeping everyone in the group safe and alive. The pain from the losses suffered were unbearable, but was unfortunately destined to repeat itself.

  Intermission – The Turning

  Jimmy woke up with a killer headache, bound and gagged in a burning field. He probably would have been out cold still if it wasn’t for the choking smoke coming from the fire all around him. He wriggled around to try to free himself from his bindings to no avail, and he couldn’t yell as his mouth was bound in a gag around his head.