Chapter 52- Ghoulrillas in the Mist

They lumbered in the fog, slowed by the thigh deep muck and long grasses bound in clumps and rooted to the shallow earth below the surface. They weren't close enough to see their faces, but we could tell what they were by their steady, intentional movements. Aside from these monsters there was no life in the swamp. No birds fluttering into the air at the sound of danger, no frogs leaping into the water to avoid their approach. The morning was silent, only the soft sloshing of hundreds of legs churning against murky water and the occasional moan or shriek.

I poured the last of one of the 5 gallon cans into the tank behind the driver's side door and screwed the lid on tight. Placing the can back in its slot in the carefully organized truck bed I ran the bungee cord through the handle and latched it to the metal hook bolted to the bedliner. The monsters were still at least 20 yards away, more than enough space to make a clean getaway. I looked at Oliver in the front seat who gave me a nervous thumbs up and flipped the tarp back over our supplies before joining him in the cab.

The engine sputtered at first, unwilling to start on the fumes in the lines. I missed my fuel injected jeep that would start as soon as I turned the key. Glancing out the passenger window I could see the first few approaching the guardrail. They were pale and soggy looking, covered in mud from the chest down. Some were in suits, others in street clothes. One even looked comical in a shower cap and robe that hung open, exposing a dingy sort of flower patterned house dress commonly worn by low income mothers.

I pumped the gas twice, not wanting to flood the engine, and turned the key again. The engine turned over and then cut again, and Oliver looked over at me nervously. One of the creatures had made its way over the rail and was now dragging an injured leg toward us. It's eyes yellow and thick, void of emotion, yet determined to reach us. It's mouth opened silently, several teeth missing from the black gaping hole caked in dark, dried blood.

Oliver sat in his seat, wrenching the handle of his hammer nervously. He fidgeted in his seat, readying himself for the attack he felt reluctant to participate in, but sure would come. His eyes stayed fixed on the lumbering beast as it came closer, and he sat up in his seat as it came to the window. I pumped the gas again and turned the key, squinting my eyes in silent pleading. As if by answer to a prayer, the engine roared to life, vibrating the truck powerfully. I slammed the car not gear and pulled away quickly, leaving a confused lurcher standing in the road behind us, looking on.

Oliver was visibly relieved, relaxing down in his seat as we picked up speed. He shivered from the chill wind blowing through he broken passenger side window, and I pulled him closer to me and turned on the heater. "You okay?" I asked, glancing down at him as I drove. He nodded, placing his fingers over the vent to feel the warm air coursing from the fan. "I was ready..." He started to explain as if I was questioning his ability to protect us. "I know you were." I said, trying to imagine how a proud parent should reassure a child. "You did great." He nodded again, as though confirming to himself that he had, indeed, been ready. I wondered what kind of man he would become, remembering the cares I had at his age. He would be forced to grow up quickly, if he survived. I determined to give him the best chance I could.

"We're going to a safe place" I said, starting up a conversation. "Bur first we're going to get my friend." He sat up, looking over the tall dashboard to see the road ahead. "Where?" He asked, scanning the horizon. I pointed to the right, toward the buildings. "There, in the city."

Chapter 51- Dawn of the Living

The engine began to sputter, losing power no matter how much I pushed on the gas. The truck slowed and eventually idled unevenly until cutting off completely. As it rolled to a stop, I looked out to the light just breaching the horizon. Almost morning. I could see wisps of cloud turning pink and yellow as the sun made its way back toward our side of the world, and looked down at my sleeping passenger. Oliver was fast asleep on the bench of the truck, using my leg as a pillow. His steady breathing was rhythmic, and the warmth of his small body was comforting. As I put the shifter in park he stirred but did not wake. I slowly opened the door and lifted his head as I pulled out my leg, laying it gently on the vinyl seat so as not to wake him. He moved and chewed on his tongue but did not open his eyes.

Getting out of the truck I stretched, leaning backwards to pull on my aching stomach muscles. I looked at my hand, now swollen from when I had hit our assailant last night, and winced as I tried to move my pinky fingers. A bolt of pain shot up my arm and I hissed under my breath. Gazing up and down the road I didn't see any other vehicles and knew we'd have to travel on foot. Looking in the back of the truck I pulled out a blanket and unrolled it, laying it over Oliver as he slept. If we were going to walk he'd need as much rest as he could get. I needed it too. I couldn't remember the last night of sleep I'd had, it feels like days. I thought about Tracy as I looked at the horizon. Did she make it to our storage unit? Would she wait for me or would we arrive, finding it cleaned out and a note saying "gone to the hills, hope you're not dead." I chuckled to myself and then shivered. Morning was approaching but the air still felt chilly. I looked under the tarp in the back of the truck and found a jacket. Pulling it on I decided to search the rest of our supplies. Perhaps there was a little breakfast under here somewhere.

I unfolded the tarp and found a survivalist's paradise. Whoever owned this truck was either going off on a very long camping trip or knew what was about to happen. There were two coolers full of food, several jugs of water, and at least 30 gallons of gasoline. I smiled cheerfully and looked up at the sky. "Thanks!" I said to the clouds. I laid down the tailgate and pulled out a propane stove. Ruffling through a green canvas pack I found some waterproof matches and struck one up. The flame burned warm and bright in my hands, and I looked at it for a moment before lighting the burner.

Soon I had a package of sausage sizzling on one side and water boiling on the other. As I cooked I watched the sunrise peeking over the buildings in the distance, the light bouncing off the windows like a kaleidoscope. The smell of food must have woken my little passenger, because a head popped up from the cab of the truck, rubbing its eyes in disbelief. "Good morning little warrior!" I called out to him. "You hungry?" He grinned and pulled the blanket around himself, leaping from the cab and walking to the back of the truck.

I had set up two collapsible chairs with a view of the city and the rising sun past it, and we enjoyed a hearty breakfast of oatmeal, sausage, dried apricots, and hot chocolate. To two weary travelers it was a feast, and we savored every bite. "More cocoa?" I asked, holding up the pot toward his cup. He eagerly accepted and I filled it to the rim. He pressed the cup to his lips and and gulped the warm soothing liquid. As he glanced back at me we both laughed as he clearly had a thick brown mustache made of liquified powdered cocoa mix. As the laughter subsided his smile did too and he looked at me seriously. "Am I going to die?" I looked over at him.  He seemed so happy, but there was an underlying pain in his eyes.  "You saw your parents die, didn't you?"  I asked him honestly.  He nodded, putting his head down so I wouldn't see his tears.  "I saw my Mom too." I said, and he immediately looked up at me.  I could see a mix of surprise and curiosity on his face, as though perhaps I understood what he was feeling and could help him through it.  I unrolled the story, telling him about the hospital and Mr. Munn's house and all about the underground labs where I saw my mother caged like a monster.  He was rapt, listening so intently that his cup of hot chocolate was beginning to tip and spill onto his lap.  "What did you do?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.  I could tell he was hanging on every word of my story.  "I left." I said, watching as the anticipation on his face fell.  "I got out as fast as I could.  He looked puzzled, almost frustrated.  "You didn't save her?  Or kill her?"  I was almost as though those were the only two possibilities and he couldn't wrap his brain around any other scenarios. I shook my head and looked at him, almost amused.  "Nope, I didn't.  I needed to save myself and find my friend, and I knew if I tried to do anything for her I could be killed trying."  I looked at his little brain processing the information.  "What happened to your parents?" I asked, hoping the question wouldn't dredge up something traumatic.  "They changed into zombies and tried to kill us." There was no emotion in his voice, and no further explanation.  He took a sip of his hot chocolate and stared out at the rising sun.  The day was heating up and the morning chill was finally leaving.  As we looked across the swampy expanse leading to the city we could see the fog lifting slowly off the water and into the bright air.  It was hauntingly majestic, and would have made a fantastic photo if it hadn't been for the hundreds of dark shapes lumbering slowly out of it toward us.

Chapter 50- Horders- Buried alive

I could hear his heartbroken scream reverberating through the car's interior, and knew I had only seconds to act. I don't remember thinking, just acting. It was though my muscles instinctively understood what needed to be done, as though preserving this child's life was more important than saving my own. I rapidly moved to the back of the car and grabbed the monstrosity by the ankles. I've heard of the miracles of adrenaline but never experienced them until now. With one gigantic motion I heaved the beast out of the window, flinging him onto the road behind the car. Before it could react I pounced on its head, pounding my forearms and elbows into its pale skin as hard as I could. All I could think of is "disconnect the brain" as I hit it over and over. I heard a primal scream coming from somewhere and realized it was me, that I had turned into some sort of raging beast. All my anger, all my frustration came out on those sickening yellow eyes, and I hit them until I couldn't see them anymore.

It began to rain and I felt the cold droplets hitting my neck like small ice cubes. I began to shiver, not so much from the cold, but the shock of what I had just done. I stood up and looked at my handiwork, two corpses laying on the road, the thick black ooze from their bodies covering the pavement and my clothing. I turned and saw two wide eyes peeking out from the back of the seat and shook the thick goop off my hands in a single motion. Looking back at Oliver I nodded to him. He didn't say a word, but simply nodded back.

I looked around for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. On the side of the overturned truck there was a large metal box with the words "tools" spray painted roughly on it. Removing the small crowbar from the trunk of my car I popped open the box and pulled out a long handled claw hammer and some thick leather work gloves. A large sheathed knife sat behind a box of nails and a thick metal level about 4' long was propped diagonally across the box's interior. I took them both and headed back to the car where Oliver waited. He was shivering in the cold, and I turned on the heater as I climbed in. "We need a better car, something with a little more protection" I said to him, and he nodded and pointed down the highway where we came from. "What about that truck?" He said inquisitively. A looked in the rear view mirror and saw the shape of an old pickup behind us. "Do you like trucks?" I asked with a smile. He returned my smile and nodded, and I grabbed the tools I had gathered and handing him the hammer. "This is for you." I said, looking him in be eyes before we climbed out of the car. "Hopefully you'll never need to use it." He held the hammer as though it were a gift, gently cradling it and running his hands over the smooth cold metal. He gripped the handle tightly and slammed the head down onto the dashboard. A loud satisfying crunch put a big smile on his face and he looked back at me and grinned. "Not bad for a kid" I said to him with a stern smile. "But you're lucky that hit didn't trigger the airbag." His giddy smile was replaced by the horrific realization of danger and he looked at his dent and swallowed hard. "Come on" I said as I exited the car. "Let's go get you a truck."

Walking on the open road made me more nervous than I thought it would, especially knowing that I had someone to protect. My eyes scanned each shadow for movement, any sign that one of those things was waiting for us. In the distance I could still see the helicopter scanning the horizon, searching each rooftop almost methodically. I wondered who was in there and what they were looking for.

As we approached the truck we slowed our pace, carefully inspecting it for any danger. It seemed benign enough, and the doors were unlocked. I glanced in the back and saw what looked like a load of camping gear. Perhaps our luck had changed after all! Climbing into the driver's seat I reached for the ignition but found the keys were missing. That didn't make sense, if the driver was turned into one of those things he or she wouldn't have thought to take the keys with them. I looked around on the floorboards to see if they had fallen down, but couldn't see anything. As I ducked my head to look under the elevated seat I jumped as I heard the engine roar to life. I looked at the car as though it were alive, and Oliver began to laugh. "You should see your face!" He said between guffaws. "You don't believe in ghosts, do you?" He chided in an almost adult manner. "How did you do that?" I asked, astonished. He pointed at the steering column. "My Grandpa had one of these trucks" he said. "He used to let me drive it around the block with him. It actually doesn't need a key." His smile faded a bit, and I assumed he was thinking about his grandfather, the man I had found laying outside the parking garage. "Hey," I said, looking in his eyes. "That was great. Thanks a lot." His smile returned and I pulled myself up into the driver's seat.

We began driving down the road slowly, again searching for a way through the blockage of metal and glass. The rain had stopped and we rolled down our windows, letting in the clean night air. Oliver hung out of the window, his arms draped over the side and head laying down, looking up at the stars now peeking through the parting clouds. The cars ahead were almost bumper to bumper, and the pathway around the side of the overturned truck was barely large enough to fit the truck. I could hear the concrete barrier scraping on the metal of the rear view mirror, and reached out to pull it closer. The left tires rode up on the barricade and I used the front of the truck to nudge a small compact car out of the way. I could tell by the scrapes on its side this wasn't the first time someone had done this.

As we rounded the corner the truck bounced free of its impingement and our headlights illuminating an almost impassible blockade of abandoned vehicles down the freeway. Pulling to a halt the light also revealed at least dozen creatures standing idly amongst the havoc, all of which now turned to face us. Their thick yellow eyes looked white in the light, and they bared their blood-filled teeth, hissing in disdain at our arrival.

"Roll the windows up!" I commanded and put the truck in reverse. The angle and the tight fit would be almost impossible to manage, and I could as soon as I started that there was no going back. The first few approached the front of the car, placing their hands on the hood. If I didn't get momentum now we'd be trapped, and it would only be a matter of time before we became a snack for those hideous creatures. I pushed on the accelerator, slowly at first, and watched as the creates in front of the car moved to the side. "Sit in the middle" I commanded, and Oliver gladly moved to the center of the bench seat, away from the window. More and more gathered at the front, slapping their hands on the hood and the windows, and I moved a little faster. It almost seemed that I could move through the crowd in this way, nudging them to the side rather than running them over. I moved the truck between two cars, thinning out the herd as they where naturally peeled off in the space between the metal barricades. In the distance I could see more gathering, and despite my success thus far, a feeling of dread began filling my heart. Oliver must have felt the same, because his grip on my arm tightened. The pounding fists and dead faces were horrible looking, and it seemed as though the infection was swelling every part of thier physique. Oliver buried his face in my arm, refusing to look at the horrible scene. Feeling his fear combine with my own, I pushed on the accelerator, picking up speed as much as the confused maze of abandoned vehicles would allow. In front of me I saw a large one lifting a tire, and before I could react he heaved it at the front of the car. To my surprise it bounded off the hood and rolled to the right, crunching one of my attackers in the process. Oliver sat up and looked ahead as he heard the noise, and noticing the large dent in the hood he looked up at me with fear. I couldn't let him down. I floored the truck and felt the wheels slip as something was pulled under the vehicle. It took a moment to get traction, but once we did the strong engine pulled us forward, and the sound of crunching bones and horrible moans filled our ears.

Oliver was covering his ears with both hands, unable to handle the horrible sound. "Go!" He begged, his little voice full of despair and fear. The truck slammed into the corner of an abandoned SUV and I heard the familiar crunch of rending metal and squealing rubber as it was knocked to the side. The old truck pushed onward, the ocean of demons now more behind us than ahead. I could see the road clearing up ahead and me heart leapt. "We're almost there!" I called out to him over the tumult outside. Suddenly a large crash filled the interior and the passenger window broke into a thousand pieces. Fists clenching rocks reached into though the opening, the glass shards tearing their grey flesh as they reached for us.

Oliver leapt to action, using his hammer like an expert carpenter. Smacking knuckles and crushing fingers, he pounded each hand to a useless pulp, screaming "Go, go!" as his hammer dealt its swift justice. Clearing the last car, I pulled out into a straightaway, where a clear highway stretched out before us. "We did it!" He called out to me, smiling through a face covered in dark red spatters. I pushed hard on the accelerator and we felt the engine open up, propelling us to freedom. Glancing backward we could see the massive crowd of bloodthirsty monsters stumbling in the shadows, unable to maintain speed with our ever increasing velocity. Oliver jumped over to me and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Did you see me?" He cried enthusiastically. "I saved us!" I looked at him proudly as his sat down next to me and buckled his set belt. Reaching over I tousled his hair and smiled back. "We wouldn't have made it without you." I said, watching his face fill with pride. "You were amazing."