900 Miles (Book 2): 900 Minutes Page 15

  My mind flashed to my wife Jenn, those deep red eyes that had blankly stared at me as she turned into one of these creatures. I’d spent countless weeks thinking back to what I could have done differently to save her. There were times when I didn’t believe I deserved to be any more alive than her. In the end, I realized that there was only one thing I could ever to do: honor our love.

  Love. Sometimes it’s all you need to give you the strength to do what it takes. That day, it was the only thing that saved my life.

  Arching my stomach, I pulled both of my legs in, actually bringing the creatures within inches of my face, then dug in with every ounce of strength left in my body and kicked outward, knocking both of the dead off balance. Breaking free of their grasp, I rolled up to regain my stance and screamed in the most primal of screams.

  “NOTHING is going to stop me from getting back to MY SON!NOTHING!”I brought the hammer down across the closest creature, turned and sprinted the short distance toward the hill.

  Feeling the Zs reaching for the hair on the back of my head, I reached the incline.

  “Grab my hand! Grab it now!”Seeing nothing but an arm in the darkness, I grasped it at the wrist and was yanked up the steep incline just as another of the dead wrapped its arms around my leg. My boots took a nice bite, but it wasn’t hard enough to break through the leather as the arm I was holding pulled me up and away from the death below.

  Even the moonlight didn’t shine brightly enough to help us truly understand how steep the hill actually was. Nor did it reveal that amongst the thick trees the ground was almost completely covered in bowling ball-sized boulders. It was nearly impassable. Nearly being the key word. We could move up it, but not at any quick pace. Fortunately, it appeared too steep for the mindless monsters below to be able to navigate. They were piling up at the edge of the incline, crawling over each other to try to climb toward their prey.

  From time to time, I would see one make it a few yards up, but these creatures, especially the slower, more decomposed ones, didn’t have the dexterity to navigate the jagged terrain.

  Looking up to the man who had grabbed my shoulder, I made eye contact only to realize that it was the taller of the two boys, Mr. Ammo. After making sure I was set on a sturdy perch, he started to fire the last of his rounds into the creatures clawing at the bottom of the vertical pass.

  As his bullets ran out, we both turned toward the peak to start our ascent. Glancing above us, I briefly made eye contact with Kyle, who with a grunt was dragging Jarvis behind him. They had made it, and it seemed that I was the laggard of the group. At least that was what I thought before hearing another burst of weapon fire from below. The stocky boy’s machine gun was screaming out into the night.

  Spinning around, I heard Mr. Ammo crying out as we realized the stocky boy was nearly surrounded by over twenty Zs. About to be overrun, he quickly reloaded with what I’m sure were the last of his rounds. I could see the creatures being mowed down all around him. Split in half, heads blown off, the bullets passed through their weak flesh and into the forest around him.

  He was screaming over the sound of the rapid fire as I watched a tree just beyond him splinter into a million pieces and start to fall. I couldn’t see where it landed, but it only seemed to draw more attention to where he was making his stand.

  By the time the tree hit the ground, all I could see was his arm reaching up through the blood-covered Zs crowding around his body. I can’t be sure exactly, but I think that for the briefest of seconds, I saw him pull his face above the sea of creatures, almost like a man getting one last breath of air before sinking beneath the water to his death.

  His eyes were white and reflected nothing less than terror back at us. Then he was silent.

  “Keep going!”I finally heard Kyle scream back to us.“We need to make it to the summit.”

  The climb was hell, and I fell flat to my face in the darkness more than once, smashing my chin and forehead into the jagged rocks. Mr. Ammo was ahead of me, and I could hear him cursing himself with each step forward. He knew he was fucked in a billion different ways, and his journey to safety didn’t end at the top of the hill.

  Kyle and Jarvis flipped over the peak first. Losing complete sight of them, I pushed harder, being more careless, taking more lumps trying to catch up. With all the madness, for some reason not being able to see them had me unnerved.

  Surprised that they did not look back down at us after they’d made the climb, I found myself even more crazed as I lifted my feet and arms in unison, taking advantage of the fact that I had the hammer to dig into the ground for leverage.

  If there was a horde up there, we’d be finished. There would be no escape. No running after this climb. I was done, and I damn well knew it. Even with each step, I was practically spitting dry saliva out of my mouth, still whispering the word“NOTHING”with each breath.

  At that point, I knew there was nowhere else to go. Nothing could have prepared me for what I found at the summit.

  NOTHING.

  Chapter 20

  Reaching up into the heavens above us, practically begging for God’s help.

  My muscles burned with every painstaking movement as the top came into sight. Beneath each step, the ground became slick and more brittle with sticks that cracked under the weight of my arms and legs. Between fatigue and the fear of the creatures below, it was no wonder I didn’t realize what I was crawling through. How could I have?

  Staring up toward the summit, I watched through the darkness as Mr. Ammo pulled himself over the ledge. Still no one looked back down at me. My heart raced at the thought of what lay ahead, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  I nearly lost my balance when my foot slid backwards on one of the rocks. I could hear what sounded like a piece of metal rolling down the hill behind me.

  The crackling from the fire below almost overshadowed the moans from the creatures yearning to come up the hill after me. Almost.

  Just a few more feet before I’d learn what fate lay ahead. Still, I pushed through. There were no other options.

  Digging the sharp end of the hammer into the ground at the summit, I slowly pulled my aching body over the edge. Wide-eyed, I shot glances back and forth, trying to find my friends through the darkness. The fire was far below and try as it might, the moon wasn’t able to break through the clouds passing above. Between that and the smoke still tearing up my eyes, I simply couldn’t see jack.

  Unfortunately, the creatures had no problem seeing me.

  As my eyes adjusted, they were there, all low to the ground…staring up at me with those dead red eyes. They jerked and snapped in my direction, but for some reason, did not advance toward me. Jumping up, I nearly slid backwards, but managed to catch the groove of the hammer between two rocks on the summit.

  I didn’t make a noise. Not because I didn't try to scream. Hell, I opened my mouth and let out what I imagine would have sounded like the unmanliest scream on the planet, but nothing came out. My mouth was dry as sandpaper, and my throat was even worse.

  They could see me, smell me, and sense me, yet something was clearly holding them back. As the tears cleared from my eyes, and my mind started to recover with the help of the much-needed oxygen being pulled into my lungs, I started to understand what this was.

  Just as it all came into focus, one of the creatures tore its torso free from the rest of its body, which was securely strapped into a pair of chairs tipped over sideways just ten feet from my face. The monster was dressed in a beat up gray business suit, with a loose tie that was flipped over its shoulder.

  I watched in horror as its entrails leaked out through the open wound of its stomach, and streaked across the rocky summit like a mop pushing through mud. The Z’s mouth was gaping open, salivating some sort of puss as if I was the first meal it had ever seen. One hand over the other, it pulled toward me, letting out a moan that seemed to fuel the rest of the creatures.

  Squeezing my fists together, I put one hand on my kn
ee and pushed myself to my feet. As I slowly rose, all of the creatures’mangled red eyes followed me in unison, unwavering from my tasty flesh.

  With nearly nothing left, I fought for the strength to raise the hammer above my head. I could only hope that I had enough to put this creature down with one strike. It was clear I wouldn’t have the strength for a second.

  Focusing on its head, and trying to make sure the blow would count, I didn’t notice the person to my left until he came in and drove a foot through the side of the rotten half-corpse, sending it rolling over the edge of the ravine. I watched as the tie flapped in the wind like a streamer while it fell into the darkness.

  Jumping back at the suddenness of the action, I looked up to see Kyle holding a welcoming hand in my direction.

  “John. Let’s get you away from that ledge,”he said as he stepped forward.

  Even in the darkness, I could see the look of concern in his face as he edged toward me. He knew I was done.

  Falling to the ground as I grabbed Kyle’s hand, he broke my descent as much as he could, and twisted my body around to where I was perched upright. Sitting there in what I can only explain as shock, I watched in awe as Kyle stood back up and waved toward Mr. Ammo, who was only a few feet back.

  For the briefest of moments, the clouds parted, and the moon lit up the hilltop. Twisted metal that looked like someone had wadded up a two-hundred-foot soda can and tossed it into the forest lay before me. Behind it was a field of broken and fallen trees splintering up from the ground.

  I eventually recognized the long cabin of a commercial airliner. Its wing was reaching up into the heavens above us, practically begging for God’s help. It would find no such solace, much like the passengers of this forsaken flight.

  Realizing the mass of Zs were all strapped to many of the two-by-two airplane seats littering the ground, I looked out at their weathered bodies. They had likely been trapped in those chairs since the shit hit the fan seven months ago.

  In the old days, I would have cringed at the thought of having to sit next to the fat sweaty guy on a plane for two hours. I gritted my teeth at the thought that it could have been worse.

  Lifting their weapons, Kyle and Mr. Ammo stepped toward the group of buckled-in passengers and methodically drove their given weapon down through their skulls. Making quick work of the creatures, they continued canvassing their way around the wreckage to finish off any stragglers.

  Finding some much-needed strength after sitting still for a few minutes, I finally looked over my shoulder to see Jarvis perched up against a metal box that lay sideways. Pulling myself over to him, I noticed that he was out cold. His lungs moved up and down under his chest plates, and I told myself that was good enough for now.

  Propping my body up against the same tilted-over metal box, I came down against it hard. My first concern was that I would wake Jarvis, but he stayed dead asleep. However, my weight shifted whatever was in the box, and I heard something clinking around inside.

  Looking up toward Kyle and Mr. Ammo, I saw their silhouettes on the other side of the plane, pulling luggage out of some sort of compartment and exploring the inside of the cabin. Later, they would tell me that the radio in the plane was useless. The battery was dead, and the cockpit was all but crushed into a thick set of trees, which had ultimately stopped the plane from falling over the edge of the ravine.

  Sitting against the metal box, I decided I would try to make myself useful by doing a bit of digging around on my own. Pushing up to my knees, I looked over the edges of the box and found a small latch. Digging my nails into it, trying to break it free, I finally snapped the rusty piece of metal loose, causing a small door to slide open and hit the ground with a thud.

  With a smile, I reached down and lifted up a handful of peanut packets and an assortment of alcohol-filled mini-bottles.

  Creating a semi-circle of airplane seats facing toward the ravine, overlooking the dancing fire below, the four of us sat in silence chowing down on a feast of peanuts, crushed crackers, and a bottle of olives that we’d been able to salvage.

  We were thrilled to have it.

  The seats, all once a prestigious red, now were more brownish black from sitting outside in the elements for so long. Embroidered on the back of each chair was a logo that read Imperial Air in a bold, fancy cursive. Just below the logo was a slogan that read“Flight Fit For A King.”I’m not quite sure what the magnificently terrible smell radiating from them was, but it didn’t matter to me too much. I was just content to be sitting.

  Cracking open the first mini-bottle, Kyle poured the clear liquid into a small plastic cup that looked like an imitation goblet from medieval times. Across the bottom, it read,“Million Mile Member Club.”

  I cringed thinking that corporations would give away such horrible shit before the world came to an end…and we’d all felt like we needed to have it.

  As a group, we’d agreed on a few things. First, Kyle talked us into having a small campfire in the center of our half-circle. We figured any creatures in the area would be drawn to the forest fire below, and it was getting pretty chilly up on the mountainside. I for one had no interest in being anywhere near a fire, but he nearly insisted that we needed it. He got it up and running pretty quickly with a set of matches he’d found in some carry-on luggage.

  So much for the hours of airport I’d wasted over my lifetime.

  Second, there was the issue of Mr. Ammo. After all, we were all trying to kill each other not too long ago. Three on one gave us the odds, and he knew he wasn’t going to get too far without us. In the end, we decided that we’d helped each other get this far, and we weren't going to settle our differences tonight. We’d have to decide what to do next in the morning. Of course, that didn’t stop Kyle from threatening to toss“his ass,”as he put it, over the edge if Mr. Ammo made a single move he didn’t like.

  Luckily, the kid got message loud and clear.

  With the exception of the natural defenses that the hill provided and the cracked-open cabin of the plane, we were all but exposed. However, it was too dark to head anywhere, and at least here we had a few supplies to rummage through.

  For the time being, no matter how much my mind told me we needed to keep moving, we had decided to stay put. I’m glad we did, because I’m not sure I would have ever heard the story that Jarvis told us that night if we hadn’t.

  Chapter 21

  Famous within the ranks of the nation’s elite…and he was drunk on the power.

  Looking over toward Jarvis, I could see the firelight flickering off his face while he sat and chowed down on a bag of peanuts. He was in a fresh set of blue jeans and a black hoodie. I’d never seen him so informally dressed. We’d all found a new set of clothing amongst the wreckage. Trading in my melted body armor, I settled for a set of brown cargo pants, a black t-shirt, and a sweatshirt that was a tad too tight for my liking.

  I noticed that Kyle kept looking over toward Jarvis’s leg wound, bleeding through the bandages, soiling his newfound set of clothing.

  Taking a sturdy piece of metal, roughly two feet long, that he’d salvaged from the plane, Kyle placed one end in the fire and looked up to me with a slightly grim face before taking a swig from his goblet.

  Pulling on two strings, Jarvis opened the top of the backpack and began rummaging through the bottles and small glass vials. With the help of the light from the fire, I watched as his hand emerged with a few pills that he downed with a swig from a mini-bottle.

  Moving my eyes across the campfire, they landed on a bright white pair of Nike running shoes with a florescent green stripe nearly glowing in the darkness.

  “Nice kicks,”I said to Mr. Ammo.

  Smiling nervously, he looked down, twisted the shoes in the dirt, and said,“I always wanted a pair of these, but they were always too expensive. Don’t think anybody on that plane will miss them.”Looking out at the ravine for a second, as if not knowing what to say, he continued.“They’re called the Nike Pegasus. They say
you can fly with them.”

  Nodding with my own smile, I glanced at my boots, which had just saved me from a bite to the foot. Screw sneakers, I’d be taking a pair of boots with me to the end.

  Looking up from the fire, Jarvis asked,“What’s your name?”while shifting his shoulders toward Mr. Ammo.

  Pausing for a moment, Mr. Ammo looked at all three of us and finally responded,“Aidan.”

  “Well, Aidan, I think you know our names, right?”

  Nodding his head, he replied,“Yeah, I know who you are.”

  “Do you? Or do you just know what Gordon told you about us?”

  Thinking about this for a minute, obviously trying to choose his words carefully, Aidan replied,“I know you took up arms against Gordon and nearly killed him before he had the chance to escape your castle.”

  Holding up his gauntlet, Kyle chuckled, repeating the word,“Castle.”

  “Do you know who Gordon Green is? Do you really?”Not giving Aidan a chance to respond, Jarvis continued.

  “A little known fact is that I was Gordon’s business associate for almost twenty years.”

  Realizing we were about to be in for a hell of a story, Kyle sat up and cracked open another mini-bottle filled with bourbon.

  “At first, we set off with all the right intentions, building wealth in the right ways. We were simply in the pursuit of what we called the three W’s.”

  He took a breath, and paused with a slight smirk.

  “Wealth, women and wild parties, boys. We were young, figuring out the world. Our business endeavors were on the level, and we had a heck of a time. Gordon is a brilliant man. There is no doubt about that. Once he started investing in the stock market there was nothing that could stop him. I would be amazed at the types of calls he would make, and at how often they would pay off. He simply seemed to always know which way the wind was blowing…and he was quick to cast his sail when it picked up a good breeze.”