Phase One: Identify (Territory of the Dead) (7 page)

I nodded, my thoughts focused on worst-case scenarios. “It seems to me like we would have two options. One is going upstairs, but then we are pretty much trapped. The other option is to leave now, but where would we go?”

He rubbed his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. “There are enough of them out there now that leaving would be risky. Your dad would have to shoot the ones that got close. He's got a bolt-action rifle, and it only holds five shots, though.”

I peeked back out the window. “There is more than that just hanging out around the back door. I don't see how we could make it to the SUV.” It was parked in the driveway.

I looked back at him, and he nodded in agreement. “You should go upstairs and pack up a backpack or duffel bag with stuff you'd need, just in case we have to leave fast. When you bring it back down, keep it close.”

He had a point there. “I'm going to do it now,” I said, but hesitated for a moment. The thought of being alone was scary. “Could you wait for me on the stairs?” My voice trembled a bit from fear and embarrassment. I hated how needy it sounded to ask.

He didn't seem to mind. “Sure, but do it now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Chapter 7

I'd just walked back down our stairs to meet Jayden, when the first loud crack of glass cut through the silent house. We exchanged equal looks of horror before racing back to the living room. My mind screamed in denial, even when I saw the look of terror on the faces waiting for us when we got there.

A chunk of glass fell in, hitting the floor vent with a loud chink, as it busted in a million pieces.  A bloody, dirty hand pushed through the opening, swinging wildly in an attempt to grab onto anything living. Each motion of its arm caused the curtains to separate, giving us brief flashes of the zombies waiting at the window.

Amanda sobbed loudly behind me. She was far beyond consolable, despite her dad's efforts to quiet her.  The sound barely registered in my own terrified mind.  I was fighting back a blackness that threatened to consume me.

Another section of glass broke off, larger this time. “Are they out back, too?” Dad asked me, his voice harsh sounding. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the window.

“Yes.”

“What do you want to do, Dan?” James asked, holding Amanda to his chest. “We have to decide, now. We've got five minutes, maybe less, before they're in.”  His tone was insistent, leaving no room for indecisiveness.

“Even if we go upstairs, Dad, once they are in, we're trapped. We don't need to be trapped in bedrooms, with no way to get food or even use the restroom. Besides, if they are strong enough to break in here, the flimsy wooden doors upstairs wouldn't be a problem at all.” More glass broke, emphasizing my point.

A zombie leaned over the window frame, the opening large enough for him to slide in. Everyone was frozen, eyes wide as they stood there in shock. “It's now or never,” I muttered, pulling the kitchen knife out of my back pocket.

I'd taken it earlier, before going upstairs to paint my toenails. It wasn't the largest blade in the kitchen, but it was big enough to do some damage. I wasn't going to stand here and let them come in.

I walked over to the struggling zombie. He was doubled over the frame, mindless of the broken glass jabbing into his stomach and sides, as he attempted to wiggle in on his hands. There were so many others struggling around the window that it impeded his progress. His head was pointed to the ground, but when he saw me coming he raised it, attempting to latch onto my legs.

“I don't think so,” I hissed at him, ignoring the pleas coming from behind me. Mom and Dad were desperately begging me to get away from the window. I blocked out the sounds of their voices, and moved around to the back of his head.

I felt a live presence next to me, and a quick glance confirmed it was Jayden. In his hand was another knife, but his was much bigger than mine. He wore a determined expression on his face as he gave me a quick nod. He knew what I was about to do and approved.

I ignored the sounds of the zombies only a few feet away, struggling with everything they had to get in. I trusted Jayden to protect me. The handle of the knife felt slippery as I gripped it with both hands and lifted it up. No wonder. My palms were sweating by the bucketfuls.

Jayden reached out with his other hand to grab the zombie by his waistband and hold him in place. He was squirming violently, attempting to wiggle his legs through the throng behind him. Second by second, he was making some progress.

It was horrifying. Not just the situation, but who I was becoming. I stood there with a knife, about to plunge it into another person's head. Even worse, I couldn't care less. I wanted to end this zombie.

He was dead. That wasn't what made me determined to end him. People died all the time, but this was different. He was a dead person come back to life with only one purpose. To kill and eat anyone still living, including me and the people I loved. That was a big no-no in my book.

Any doubts I had snapped like an over-extended rubber band. I felt as deadened to emotions as the zombie in front of me, as I plunged the knife down toward the back of his head. It didn't land in the back of his skull as planned, instead it went into the soft flesh on the back of his neck. The knife slid in fairly easily, slicing through skin, flesh, and vertebrae before coming out the other side.

Despite this, his head and body still moved. It hadn't ended his existence. His snarls reminded me of a wild animal trapped in a cage. He was something far worse than that, though. His bite would kill you faster than you could blink, and bring you back to do the same to someone else.

I pulled on the knife, but it wouldn't budge. “It's stuck,” I said, my voice hoarse. It didn't sound like me at all.

My parents were still in the background, my mom sobbing. In a way, it irritated me. Why couldn't they just fight? Standing helpless, pleading and crying wasn't going to save any of us. 

Jayden released his waist, and took the spot I'd been standing in. “You have to hit inside their head,” he said, quickly bringing the knife down. He buried it to the hilt, and the zombie immediately stopped moving. “It's the only way to stop them.”

It only took him a second to retrieve both of our knives. I was slightly envious of his strength, but it was no time to be jealous. Quickly he handed mine back to me, and turned toward the window. “If any of them get in, we're dead. Aim for their heads. Don't waste your time trying to hit anything else.” With that, he stabbed the zombie nearest him straight through the top of his head.

James came running up to us, his elegant face grim. He held another one of my mom's knives in his hand. By the time we were done, she wasn't going to have a kitchen knife left. “I'll help,” he said firmly, moving in front of one of them. In one fast motion, he embedded it in the center of the zombie's forehead before pulling it straight out. “I'll be damned if I lay down and wait to become a meal for these bastards.”

Jayden nodded, matching him death for death. I stood there, holding the knife but didn't try again. The window was only large enough for two to work comfortably. As quickly as they dropped, though, another dead person took their place. How long could the men keep it up?

One of the zombies managed to get their fingers caught in Jayden's dark ponytail and pulled it hard. It threw him off balance, as another zombie leaned forward and opened his bloody mouth. “No,” I screamed, rushing forward.

I didn't even think about it. I just brought my arm down as hard as possible with the knife pointed straight toward the top of his head. It only went in about half of the way, but it must have been sufficient. The zombie dropped, but unfortunately he dropped outside on the ground, with my knife still buried in his skull.

The first zombie still had his fingers locked in his hair. “Use mine,” Jayden gasped, holding the handle of his blade out to me. I grabbed it, aiming for the forehead. Instead, it went in through the eye. “Gross,” I said, completely disgusted.

The zombie's hand relaxed in his hair. With one smooth move, Jayden disentangled himself and managed to yank the knife back out before the zombie fell. I stepped away, not wanting to be in his way.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing me a rare, brief smile. I stared back at him and nodded silently. I wasn't used to seeing him smile, and it made my heart do funny things.

He turned back and rejoined James. There were enough zombies gathered that they could have went on for hours, and might have, except at that moment everything changed. Almost as if it was a synchronized attack from the ones outside, the sounds of shattering glass resounded through the house.

“They are in,” I whispered, feeling the blood run out of my face with such intensity, it felt like I would black out. Hopelessness overwhelmed me, the knife slipping out of my bloodless fingers and falling, unforgotten, to the floor. Silly, foolish me. Things were going so well with James and Jayden, I thought for a moment we had a chance.

Jayden backed away from the window and grabbed me by the upper arm, pulling me back toward the foyer. “We've got to get upstairs,” he told my parents and Amanda. “Now.”

They moved toward us quickly. Mom had her arm around Amanda's waist, supporting and guiding her in our direction. James moved back from the window. His shirt and face were covered with blood. The zombies didn't hesitate. Immediately, they fought to get in.

Headlights cut across the window an instant before the sound of a loud engine roaring cut through the night. It was enough to momentarily distract the zombies. Something was approaching our living room window, and it was coming in fast.

“What the hell?” Dad asked, giving us a puzzled look. I shrugged in response. It wasn't like I knew anymore than he did.

The engine got louder, so close I thought it would hit our home. An instant later the zombies in front of the window went flying, as a black Suburban swung in, only a few, scant feet from the wall of the house. 

I couldn't see who was driving. The windows were tinted so black, I was surprised it wasn't illegal. The driver didn't hesitate, though. The door swung open, and out stepped our salvation.

He was somewhere around six feet tall, with light brown, wavy hair. It was parted in the center, long enough to brush the top of his collar. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. They were a mesmerizing shade of blue, so bright they seemed to burn from their own hidden light.

I couldn't tear my fascinated eyes away from him. His presence was one that nobody living could ever ignore. It wasn't the athletically-built body or his tanned skin. It was something else. He had a powerful aura about him, to magnetic to resist noticing and responding to. For the first time since the zombie nightmare started, I felt safe.

His eyes met mine, lingering for one long moment. I was powerful to blink, move, or even breathe. An undercurrent of some feeling I didn't quite understand passed between us. By the time he looked away, I felt dizzy. 

He didn't mince words. “Anyone that wants to live, get in.” His voice was deep and powerful, matching the promise his body made. He was confident and self-assured, the kind of man you wanted in your corner when the monsters came knocking. With his arrival, our chance of survival had just shot up exponentially.

My dad's mouth moved, but nothing came out. Jayden and I exchanged a look and shrugged, before moving to the window. Time was running out. I could hear the zombies making their way through our house. It wouldn't take long for them to discover exactly where we were at. 

“Come on, Amanda,” I heard James say. I didn't turn around to look. Jayden grabbed a thick blanket off the couch and his duffel bag off the floor, as we passed by. My back pack was still on my back, completely forgotten until now.

The mystery man hopped out of the Suburban, completely in tune to his surroundings. He reached back in and grabbed a shotgun. It was black, with a sling attached to it. He was fully strapped with guns and two bandoliers crisscrossed across his broad shoulders. He was in his element, completely comfortable with them. I wasn't sure what was more dangerous, the guns or the man himself.

He was dressed completely in black, and his clothes didn't look cheap. The button down shirt was long-sleeved, but rolled up to his elbows, exposing tanned forearms. He was wearing a shoulder harness with a pistol tucked in one side. There was also a harness around his waist, with an extremely long pistol hanging partially down his thigh.

Leaning over the hood, he aimed his shotgun and started firing. “You might want to move a little bit faster,” he said sarcastically over his shoulder. “We don't have all night.”

Jayden threw the thick blanket, double-folded , over the window frame and broken glass. He climbed over it easily before reaching back in to help me out. A zombie approached from the rear of the Suburban, squeezing between the vehicle and the wall. Without any hesitation, Jayden ended him quickly with his knife.

By then everyone was out of the house, except for Mom and Dad. Dad hesitated on the other side of the window frame, his face suspicious. “How did you know we were here?”

The man never looked back at him. Instead, he aimed and blew the head off of another zombie. He was good at what he did, so good he made it look easy. “I'll answer questions later. If you want a way out, get in. This train is rolling out in about thirty seconds, and this is its last stop.”

I could see he meant business. “Come on, Dad.” I said, urging him to climb over. Behind him, I saw movement. “Oh no,” I gasped, my heart stopping for several seconds. A pack load of zombies were standing right in the doorway to our living room.