Chapter 22: A Lonely Road

Chapter 22: A Lonely Road

　

    Ben jumps up heading to the front of the van Locket shoves past him from behind. He looks to out from Chip’s window coming up to the edge of the road is a thick dense overgrown cornfield. Ben peers to Jamal's side of the van but his view is blocked by the back of Private Locket's head. "Crap it's the same thing over here Mr. James." The late summer untended cornfields encroach the thin two lane road way on both sides. "Alright we need to do this quick and easy." Locket calls moving back into the van yanking the magazine from her rifle. "Carson you and I cover the back Mr. James you, your son and neighbor cover the rear. We keep the doors open, move fast and quite." She slaps the ammo clip back into the black M4 as Carson moves in kneeling besides her at the rear doors. "Hey ... hey "Ben scurries in behind Locket. “Locket this isn't a police state you don't order us around and we don't have to take orders from you." He says producing the pistol from his waistband. "Actually Mr. James I was simply taking the lead as we are the best trained to protect you in this situation." Locket informs Ben James of his oversight. "Also technically you do have to follow my orders if that was my desire. The day of The Event the President declared martial law which essentially puts the entire country under military jurisdiction." Ben James stares at the girl their eyes lock inadvertently he blinks first cursing himself under his breath. Ben retrieves the gas can and positions himself behind the two soldiers. "Jamal can you work that rifle?" Ben points through the cab at the gun propped on the wheelchair between the seats. Jamal grabs the gun clumsily pulling back the slid checking to see if a round has been chambered. "Yeah ... yeah I think I can." He responds his voice cracking slightly. Ben narrows his eyes "Either you can or you can't Jamal I need to know now." He snaps at the young man. "I… I can Mr. James." Jamal fumbles displaying a complete lack of confidence in his own abilities. "Mr. James what about your son this only works if we have a quadrant set up." Ben presses in close on Locket and Carson "My son can't walk or did you miss the wheelchair." He whispers harshly. "I'm sorry Mr. James." Locket replies. "Don't be sorry He's not." Ben tells the soldiers.

　

    Carson grips one door handle while Locket grabs the other. "Ready people?" Locket's breathing slows to a steady rhythm. Ben holds up a hand to Jamal who is looking back from the front. Locket slaps Carson across his back "Go." She says flatly as the both twist their handles in unison. Early afternoon sunlight floods the back of the van the trio steps cautiously from the James and Sons cargo van. The sound of the wind washing through the thick green cornfields is all that greets them on this eerily calm day. The breeze shakes the dry brittle corn stalks the sound like a rattle snake’s rattle but magnified a hundred fold. The events of the last two days have seemingly left this desolate stretch of road unscathed. Ben comes down behind the pair of soldiers who fan out before him. They use hand signals to communicate with each other then Locket ushers him to the side of the van. The fear that Ben had experienced as he'd walked to his Father in Laws front porch settles back into his gut. Ben feels like he's being watched by predators as if he's a field mouse running circles underneath a barn owl for exercise. He stabs his pistol into his waistband there's movement at the van's front. Ben assumes its Jamal taking up his point position. He moves with a purpose unscrewing the gas cap then driving the nozzle home tilting the can up feeling its life saving fuel start to drain into the empty tank. Carson turns staring past Benjamin James' he sees that a corpse has walked from the cornfield and stands swaying looking up at the sky. He kneels down quietly pulling his combat knife free standing to his full intimidating height Carson steps forward knife at the ready. The rustling of the wind against the corn has stopped Carson feels Locket's hand slip around his thick neck covering his mouth. His eyes meet hers in shock silently she purses her lips to quiet Carson. Locket cocks her head to the side sharply Carson's grey eyes follows her line of sight.

　

   Carson’s heart flutters each side of the road is suddenly lined with the undead swaying in place same as the corn once had. They moan softly looking skyward oblivious to the humans present. Carson nods choking on a lump embedded in his throat. Behind Benjamin James where one zombie stood now dozens stand lining the road. Locket releases Carson slowly pulling her hand free she makes a move for Ben. She takes one step then notices Ben glaring at her in terror his eyes wide. Ben shakes his head "no" closing the gas cap painfully slow so as to avoid making a sound. Ben cuts his eyes underneath his arm he notices the van's front door is closed. The gas cap sealed Ben James moves on feet weighted like cement blocks measuring every painful step. In the van he sees his entire family along with the Fullerton's pressed as far up into the van as they can go. He also notices Jamal is in the van as well which means he never got out to begin with. Carson and Locket back down to the open van bay their guns held high. Ben climbs in like a large toddler one big knee at a time. Each of the soldiers takes a door watching the dead sway in place. Carson swings his door shut causing Locket to flinch. Locket shivers as the zombies upturned heads drift down from the sky in unison Locket’s eyes meet those of a ragged female zombie. The two stand frozen in time the female zombie blinks her dirty orange vanilla sherbet tinted eyes. With a lurch the zombie moans and the others up and down the roadside act in sync as if they were following orders. Locket slams her door the time for stealth long since past as hundreds of zombies set upon the stalled van. Ben is already on the move scrambling to the van's front. "Jamal what the hell happened to you?!" he asks. "Mr. James I saw that zombie wander out onto the roadside. I couldn't signal without drawing its attention." He utters his sheepish pleading retort. Ben knows the young man is correct but right now they have bigger problems. "That wasn't the wind rustling through the corn dad." Chip says flatly staring out the window watching the horde advance. "I know son I know." Ben tells his son placing a reassuring hand on the boys arm. "Now turn the van over easy son." He says calmly not taking his eyes off the faces crowding the roadway ahead of them. "We can't let them box us in son or they'll flip us okay?" Chip nods his head slowly indicating his understanding. He cranks the key in the ignition listening to the engine choke then chug without turning over. Benjamin squeezes the boys arm to snap him out of his panic "Easy son don't flood it one more time please." The first blows connect with the van's white exterior. Like a hail storm the first few pelts soon give way to thundering blows battering the van from outside. The wails from the dead fill the air around them. Chip calmly turns the key in the ignition feeling the van's engine churn buck under the hood like an animal caught in a trap. He relaxes his grip on the key just after the engine catches roaring to life. Chip looks up to his burly father and smiles "Good work son now take it slow. The van moves cautiously at first bumping zombies tossing them backwards into the mass of their gathered kin. Ben notices the road thickening with undead as they pour from the cornfields materializing like fog on the once open road. “They are trying to pin us in using their sheer numbers.” Ben realizes “Punch it son…” He yells as the van is rocked violently for side to side. Once all four wheel catch on the pavement the van’s tires squeal gaining traction. “Aim for the clear spaces between clusters son.” Ben tells his boy who drives with more conviction than fear this time. The beating on the van’s side fades replaced by bumps as the dead are plowed under the van and crushed. The zombies begin to thin out and soon the road is clear except for the occasional wreck. They pass a green sign with white lettering along the side of the road it reads. “Clow Falls 60 miles, Population 502.”

　

　

    The van packed with weary survivors of what was now being called “The Event” motors down the two lane road. They are heading into the small town of Clow Falls. The morning has passed into late afternoon with no further bumps in the road Chip James is feeling weak from the exertion of the last few days. The lack of eating and sleeping coupled with the extremely physical nature of their new reality weighs on him. No matter how normal he felt, how normal he tried to act. Benjamin James Junior knew full well the bevy of medical ailments that came along with his partial paralysis. He knew he was pushing his body to the limit but he'd risk everything to see his father smile at him again. To protect his mother and siblings Chip pushed the functioning top half of his body to a new limit. "Jamal could you please get me something to drink and munch on." He asks his Iranian navigator who obliges immediately after seeing the sweat bead up on the boys forehead. Jamal weaves his way into the back of the van to the group seated about on the floor. "Excuse me Mrs. James can I please have something for Chip to eat and drink?” Anne's face changes as if a shadow has passed over it. "Is he alright Jamal?" She scoots back against the wall meaning to stand. The Senior James grabs her arm easing her back down to the floor. "Ben ... what?!" She shouts angrily. "Ben he's been going and going all day you know he can't do that." Benjamin James normally would allow his wife to have her say when it came to the kids. He knew when it came to being a mother Anne James skills were beyond reproach. Ben however took a fatherly approach he was keenly aware of his son's preconceived notions of what it meant to him to be a man. "Relax honey you're embarrassing him. He's doing this for you for me for all of us we need his confidence intact agreed?" Ben whispers discreetly in his wife's ear Anne recoils in anger "Benjamin do you think I give a damn about any of that?" Anne snaps back her voice not quite loud enough to be heard by everyone but definitely not a whisper. "I know you don't baby doll..." Ben leans into his wife making sure that not even the Brandon and Belinda sitting like bookends at her side can hear what he has to say. "...but he does honey." Anne relaxes a bit "deal Ben" she whispers furiously in his ear as they looks around the cabin becoming noticeably more uneasy. Anne stretches behind her husband reaching for a bag that she knows contains food. She produces a couple of granola bars and a bottle of water. "Here you go Jamal." Anne true to her character scans the faces all staring at her. "Anybody else hungry we don't have much but please feel free." She opens the bag like a mother at Halloween standing on the porch before a crowd of "trick or treaters." Now her caring nature Ben knew was useless to argue about with her. Jamal looks to Ben who nods his head then the young man quickly grabs a protein bar. Jamal rises and moves forward as Anne begins to distribute the food. "Benjamin James you make sure our son is healthy and that is not up for debate." She says just above a whisper. Ben rises from his wife's side then trails Jamal into the van's front. Ben is initially concerned upon seeing his son's face. He knows the boy is willing himself onward. "Hey son how are you feeling buddy.” Ben asks pressing his mass down between the seats. "I'm ok dad just tired I guess." The boy glances down at the food Jamal had given him. "Ah I see your problem Chip." Ben says with a big smile. "You can blame me I never taught you how to drive and eat. That was going to be our next lesson." He chuckles cracking open the bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. He hands it to his son before taking the bars he rips both wrappers off. By the time Ben looks back to his son the boy is crushing the plastic bottle tossing it aside. "Wooooo son slow down and we need to keep these bottles in case we get a chance to refill them." Ben turns back into the vans crowded belly. "Hey folks let's save these bottles in case we get a chance to refill them." He tells the oblivious group munching away in the back. "Hey Locket, Carson..." He calls to the soldiers. "Your friend is awake." Ben points to Private Carlita Medina on the floor she's looking up at the roof in a clear state of confusion blinking every now and then.

 

 

 

 

 

    Well our survivors are finding their encounters with the dead more and more unnerving. They are now coming to understand that the days of leisure they'd known hunkered down to be a thing of the past. What will the survivors of The Event find in the small town of Clow Falls? Will it be help, shelter, answers or just more zombies?

 

 

 

Comeback the week of February 3rd to find out for yourself.

 

 

 

 

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Chapter 21: Mutual Disagreement

 

Chapter 21: Mutual Disagreement

    "Saved our lives..." Private Locket comes forward unhitching her pack with no fear. She closes in on Benjamin James in the cramped van bay. She shows no hesitation when rebuking Ben’s earlier statements. "You’re kidding right Mr. James? You were driving into an ambush and trailing every zombie in the state behind you.” She exaggerates the final part of her statement steadying herself as the van takes a corner at tad bit faster than it should have. "You had to slow to a crawl to navigate that bridge the zombies coming from the opposite end would have clogged your only escape route as the ones behind overtook your position." The much smaller young female soldier leans in closer to the husky carpenter. "I .... Me." She shouts "I cleared your path out of there by thinning out the dead advancing in on your van Sir. So please I think you have it confused I saved your lives Mr. James." She points her finger directly in Ben's face. Ben chuckles to himself "little lady I suggest you consider a few things before biting off more than you can chew. First this is my van and second if you'd like I can drop you and your people off back at bridge so you can get to your own vehicle." His words hang in the air as Locket has no response to counter his point. "That’s what I thought.” Ben says puffing his broad chest out he wanted no doubt as to who was in control of this group of survivors like it or leave it. "I tell you what I didn't catch is where's the rest of your people?" Ben watches the boy who'd first appeared to be a man because of his size behind the girl. Locket looks around condescendingly mocking the man first she checks over her right shoulder then her left. "Um they're right there Mr. James can't you see them?"

　

    Ben sighs glancing back at his wife seeing her in pain softens his stance. "Look Locket I can see them clearly and I am sorry for my momentarily lapse in judgment. I'm just trying to protect my wife and kids here so let's agree that back there on that bridge we all needed each other." He holds his hands palms up attempting to defuse the situation. "What about the bulk of your people? Are they dug in somewhere? Someplace we can go and be protected until this chaos is sorted out?” Locket pauses "The bulk of our unit is back at St. George's Hospital." Ben's eyes lit up instantly "Really can we go there?" "Yes you can but you're not going to like it Mr. James. There all dead Sir we're all that's left and we barely made it out." She looks Ben in the eye. "When the sun went down everybody that had a bite or a scratch no matter how small fell down to the ground dead." Locket slumps back against the wall defeated "That was the loudest silence I have ever heard. We had the ironic misfortune of guarding the outdoor morgue of all places." Her eyes were cast to a far off place Ben however knew what came next he and Chip had lived it. "When it broke it came like a deluge from everywhere the dead leapt up and began to devour anyone living with in reach." She attempts to tactfully swallow a lump in her throat. "I'll tell you what Mr. James." She coughs sitting forward looking at Carson who drops his gaze to the floor. "There were over a thousand soldiers at St. George's Hospital plus medical staff that we had escorted in. In less than fifteen minuets of pure hell all of them… all but the three of us are dead. We ran I won't lie like cowards we didn't stop until we plowed head first into that damn pile up back there." The rear of the van was silent except for her voice. Carson produces what's left of the first aid kit from the APC dropping his backpack next to Medina. He duck walks it over to Anne James. "Sir if you don't mind." He holds the kit up eyeing Anne's injured foot. The woman places a hand gently on her husband’s beefy arm. Ben reads his wife's soft blue eyes and relents. "Oh ok honey." Gingerly Benjamin hands his wife's foot to the young soldier who sets about examining it before he treats her. Locket continues on undeterred. "Good God if what happened at St. George’s is happening in the rest of the world.” She peers past Ben staring at all the children. "Well then we're ......... well I won't say what we are because there are children present."

　

   The van rattles on in an awkward silence putting more distance between the center of the city and the survivors. A chime from the vans dashboard cuts through the silence. "Dad the low fuel light just came on." Chip calls back Ben mumbles under his breath. Coming to the front he surveys the open rural area on the fringes of their one time home. He knew the area recalling the next town is about sixty miles away. "Ok people let's do this now while it's quiet." Ben opens a small cabinet decorated with "flammable" warning decals. Inside next to a few battered white cylinders of propane and acetylene gas he’s found what he is looking for. There is a well worn stained plastic red gas can that Ben yanks free. He swishes the pungent fuel in the can noticing it's about half full. "Dammit." He quips angered at his procrastination. He wishes he’d filled the gas can after he’d used it. This was his rule and had he followed it there would be more gas to cover their exodus. "It's about half full maybe ten gallons which puts us near the edge of Clow Falls running on fumes." Locket motions over at the mounted generator behind Anne and the kids. "How much gas is in there?” She asks pointing at the gas tank. "Probably less than a gallon ...." Ben answers thinking back to how long he'd run the generator the day after this all began. "I powered it up when to use when we were fortifying our house." A light went on in Ben's mind. "Would you guys happen to know why certain electrical things work and other ones don’t?” Locket turns to Carson who hunches his broad shoulders then goes back to tending to Anne's foot.

　

    "We were told that if an electrical device was running or plugged into an active power grid at the time of The Event. Then that device was fried and couldn't be repaired." Ben mulled over the girl's answer. "What was 'The Event' that you keep speaking about?" "The Event was a massive CME that bombarded the earth with unprecedented amounts of solar radiation and stellar debris." Locket tells everyone listening. "It caused a global catastrophe knocking out the power worldwide to anything that was operating at the time. Planes dropped from the sky, ships died in the middle of the ocean and you get the picture. The Event prompted a lot of folks to make the assertion that it was the end of days." Locket chuckles to herself. "After all is said and done looks like they were right huh?" Her question was clearly rhetorical. "What is a CME?” Bianca inquires from the corner. Before Locket could answer Carson fielded the question with his usual lack of maturity. "The Sun busted a galactic orgasm." He said briefly looking up painfully aware of what he'd just said in the presence of so many children. "Sorry ... sorry." Carson winces. Locket clears her throat "A CME is a Coronal Mass Ejection they told us what happened when they called us up for deployment. Two opposing magnetic fields come together on the surface of the sun and the resulting ejection of plasma matter erupts out into space. On average it takes about three days for one to reach Earth traveling on the solar jet stream. This particular CME blasted us in less than eighteen hours and that I know is still bathing us in solar radiation." Bianca stares around the van's cabin nervously. "I understood the radiation part which I know is bad. How is it affecting our health because bathing in radiation is not good?" Carson weighs back in with more tact "The Ozone layer of the atmosphere keeps us relatively safe but I wouldn't go to the beach to get a tan until it passes." Brandon shuffles over to his father the way little boys do and whispers in his ear without lowering his voice. "Daddy what's an or…ganas…um?" Ben glares up at Carson who drops his head down as if he hadn't heard the comment dutifully bandaging Anne's foot. He breathes in deeply in time enough to hear his wife snicker soon all the adults except Ben follow suit. While those about him are racked with laughter Ben looks pained. He really didn't want to explain the "Birds and the Bees" to his son at such an early age and he was now hoping it wouldn't be during the apocalypse either. The van's engine sputters then dies sending the van into a slow drift Chip guides them to the side of the road stopping completely then placing the van in park. "I hate to interrupt the fun but since we waited so long to tell me what to do the gas situation has become a little more urgent." Chip yells from the front end of the van. Panic washes over the faces of those huddled in the back of the cargo van any signs of laughter having long since vanished.
 

After some serious discussion cooler heads prevail. Our survivors have met up and come to terms with each others misgivings. Locket and Ben James have hashed out thier differences. The James Group had questions for the soldiers hoping to gain more knowledge about "The Event." They have gained some info about what happened the day the power went out. They also find out from Locket that the rest of the soldiers with Locket, Medina and Carson were all dead. Now after coming to terms with the apocalypse they have just run out of gas on a deserted strech of country road.



Comeback the week of January 27th for Chapter 22 of The Living Dark and find out what happens next.




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Chapter 2: Fact Check

Chapter 2: Fact Check

He heard voices somewhere close by. Ben floated in that confusing realm between sleep and consciousness. It was then that the previous day’s angst plows its way back into his mind. Benjamin's eyes pop open darting about back and forth. The house remained black and devoid of power. From above his bald sweat streaked head a ray of sunlight parted the curtains racing over his sleeping children before disappearing down the shadow filled hallway. Shifting slightly so as not to rouse his wife who slept soundly on his chest. Instinctively he counts his children for reassurance and takes comfort from feeling the heavy revolver under his right leg. Undulating slowly from his under wife Ben frees himself pausing to lightly kiss her forehead. Ben steps through the minefield of sleeping children watching for stray fingers and tiny toes.

He felt as if he had fur growing on his body still sporting the clothes he'd sweat through the previous day in. Once at the door revolver in hand he pulls wine colored skirt from the small window. He could see three figures in the middle of their dead end street. Ben kneads the gun he clutches in his right hand. Unaware of his hesitation Ben realizes he's holding his breathe in an attempt to go unnoticed as he surveys the trio. The men are conversing amongst themselves it was then he shook the cob webs of sleep from his head. They were his neighbors and suddenly Ben was subtly aware of a deep seeded rampant paranoia taking hold of his psyche. Everything had kept him on edge as if he were waiting for the other cosmic shoe to drop. Since the power had gone out he had been dismissive of his children and negligent of his wife. Silently he opens the door which moves on its well oiled hinges. Once on the front porch he trots down the steps and into the driveway. He was now in full view of the group.

Ben discreetly tucks his weapon in the small of his ample back before flipping his baggy shirt over the silver pistol to cover it. Shouts a tall lean blond athletically built man walking his way. He's wearing workout attire. Ben knows his neighbor and friend Carl Fullerton had spent the morning undoubtedly hitting some type of exercise regime hard power or not. The guy was a fitness fanatic and it showed as he looks no part of forty five. "Good to see you buddy! How are Anne and the kids?" He asks extending his hand to Ben as the two men met. They greet one another with a fierce handshake. Ben notices the shorter man over Carl's shoulder. Although Napoleon Archer was Ben's longest serving neighbor the two men and their families shared a sterile suburban relationship. Ben had long told Anne that while he felt "Nate was a good guy. Who had no qualms with my being African American. His feelings on interracial marriage may not be as progressive." "Family is fine Carl and yours?" Smiling back at his buddy "Bianca and the girls are fine... fine.... fine." Carl shouts gleefully the men turn back to the others. "Good Morning Nate." Ben nods to Napoleon who returns the gesture sheepishly. Ben breaks into a wide genuine smile “Mohammed good morning Sir.” He was speaking to their neighbor from the other side of the street who was a polite white haired diminutive Iranian immigrant. "Good Morning my friend Benjamin. How are you this fine day!?" The small man gives Benjamin James a brisk warm handshake. "Mohammed how is this a fine day?" He chuckles "We have been without power for over a day now." The small man walks over to his neighbor clapping his hands together. Leaning forward he places a tiny hand palm down on Ben's wide chest. "My friend I was twenty two years old before I slept in a house with electricity. Man has survived centuries without the benefit of electric power and yet we can't go a day?!" The man rears back with laughter soon he is joined by the other men gathered in the street. "Speaking of which has anyone heard anything about when we can expect power to be restored?"

Ben scans the men's faces in the haphazard circle. Carl looks about mockingly confused "Uh Ben ole buddy old pal!” Slapping his friend's back "Dude this is so bigger than EdCon. We got blasted by a stellar tidal wave of solar flares pal they overloaded everything everywhere." Ben however is genuinely taken aback "what!" He exclaims shaking his head while pressing his rough hands to his temples. "Yeah" it was Nate's turn to weigh in. “I had been keeping up with the news via the web. The Internet however kept going in and out but then my laptop’s battery died. Globally those solar flares damn near knocked us back to the Stone Age. There's limited information flowing out through the mainstream media. Now the web is ablaze with reports of rioting around the world. Even though the U.S. government is mustering plans to alleviate some of the inconvenience. It's going to take time to get things back to normal." Ben was trying to hold his anxiety in check but his nerves felt like a million burning fuses. "Shit!" Was as good as he could muster when presented with the overwhelming news he'd been dealt. "Yes my friend it is true." Mohammed interjected." My son Jamal he calls me last night from school to tell me he was OK. He says there is fighting total chaos around UCLA." He stops suddenly the others can see the emotions washing over the kindly father. Ben places a reassuring hand on Mohammed's back as the man stammers. "It is just ..... that.... he is my only child... my world." "Mohammed… Jamal is a smart resourceful young man." Carl breaks in "you guys raised him well he'll be ok." Carl prods bobbing his head urging his neighbors to join in. A chorus of awkward "of courses" rises up on the quite sunny dead end street.

All the while Ben consoles Mohammed he eyes his home. Knowing full well he would rather tear his heart out than switch places with Mohammed Al. "Soooooo." Napoleon blurts "what's the plan? Who wants to run to the store with me?" Carl raises his hand "me! We need some more non perishables." "Not I…” Mohammed speaks after regaining his composure "thank you my friends." Ben James is lost in thought he was unaware that the group was staring at him. "Ummm no… no… not me guys!" He fumbles "I think we can make it through a few weeks or so. We'll be fine on that front." Ben turns his back on the men sizing up his house mentally taking notes. "Ben are you alright my friend." Mohammed calls aloud to a distracted Benjamin. "Yeah… I'm cool. Look guys be careful when you go out. Maybe we should consider battening down the hatchets and watching out for each others houses." The men look about confused "why?!" Nate blurts hunching his shoulder as birds chirp in the distance. "Because …” Ben begins “we are stronger together than we are alone. We can pool our resources." Pointing in the distance "We can barricade the entrance to the street with cars. It's the only way in as we're surrounded by gates behind and around us one way in one way out. Then we..." "Wooooow woooow woo!" Carl interjects. "What are we talking here the end of the world?! Slow down Ben lets take baby steps here!"

An exasperated Benjamin James rubs his smooth chin while frustration clouds his mind. "Guys no one knows for certain exactly what the hell is going on? I'm just saying we can fortify our houses or maybe just one of them and have everyone hold up there. Remember the three little pigs?" He chuckles as Nate gives off a disbelieving snort. "I do not understand my friends." Mohammed offers up. Carl strolls up to Mohammed placing an arm around his shoulders. "It's a fairy tale Mo'!" He affectionately tells the Americanized immigrant. "Ben is having a laugh at our expense he's not serious my friend."

Ben is going through a mental check list in his head. Recapping the supplies he had brought home from his job site. He had extra water, snacks and building supplies. It was time he plotted if he was going to secure the house he was burning daylight. "Guys be safe if you go out alright? Let me know if you guys want to come over. I have to go I got work to do." The tired construction worker peers back at his house. His wife was now standing in the doorway a look of concern gracing her beautiful face. He turns about to his neighbors "Mohammed…” He spoke to the man wrapped in Carl's used car salesman's embrace. "You know a tiny bit about the Bible right?!" The burly black man states stepping back from the two men. "Yes... yes that is correct my friend Benjamin." Mohammed responds. "Remember this then they laughed at Noah too when he told them he was building the Ark." His words are still filtering into the men's sub consciousness. Even as he jogs back towards his home stripping the shirt from his thick chest. Benjamin James was on the clock and in his element now.

In the latest chapter of The Living Dark Ben awakes to find his immediate neighbors gathered on their dead end street. The group of me break the news to Ben James that the power outage is going to get better anytime soon. As a matter of fact they inform him that due to solar flares. The power is down across the globe and civil unrest is breaking out all over. Carl Fullerton Ben's close friend,  Napoleon Archer who is uneasy around Ben but not because he's black and Mohammed Al a kind older Iranian immigrant. Are all making preparations for the long haul with no signs of power restoration anytime soon. Ben suggest they fortify one of their homes and pool their resources.
Come back the week of August 13th to see if anyone takes Ben up on his offer.


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Chapter 20: Come Together

Chapter 20: Come Together

 

   Chip drives his father’s white paneled cargo work van containing his family and neighbors blindly through tears heading in the general direction of the highway at his father's request. His mother's gut wrenching wails of heartbreak at the loss of her parents have slowly subsided. Now from the rear of the van he hears the soft clogged nose sniffles of his younger two siblings. Jamal Mohammed sits to his right silently scanning the road from the passenger seat. The van rounds the corner of an indiscriminate suburban block guided by the wheelchair bound teen. He is vaguely aware of the devastation that greets him no matter which direction he turns his head. He hasn't seen any of the fast infected since last night when their neighbor Nate had attacked their house. Thus far today the boy believes this is the only good thing to have happened all day. There were zombies milling about moaning at the sight of the streaking van. He observes the same reaction every time. First the dead moan as if to signal each other that fresh human meat is present. Then they lurch into action feebly attempting to catch the van and its occupants. "Chip ahead of us is the bridge we need to cross over to get out of town.” Jamal says softly from his navigators perch. "How does it look guys?" Benjamin James calls from behind them still cradling his wife. "Not bad Mr. James the bridge has some abandoned cars on it, but we can maneuver around them if we take it slow." Jamal replies craning in his seat to get a better view of the surrounding area. "The highway is packed and impassable." Chip mutters keeping his eyes on the wreck strewn streets. "Do we see any?” Ben hesitates as suddenly. Things aren't as jovial as they were when his family initially had left their house they were detached from all the worlds suffering. "....any of them about." He finishes his thought set in the belief that maybe if he doesn’t mention them the zombies would simply cease to exist. The closer they drive to the freeway's entrance the easier it is to see the carnage. "Yeah dad the freeway is one mass of tangled vehicles." Chip tells his father as Jamal unbuckles his seat belt. He gets up on one knee in his seat taking care to avoid bumping Chip’s wheelchair and the rifle Anne’s father had given Ben both of which are propped between the two seats. "It looks as though we can also determine what has become of the passengers of said mangled cars." Jamal chimes in staring in disbelief at the moving mass of corpses on the freeway below. "They look like marauding ants marching about with no orders." He says in shock. "Best to do this as quickly and quietly as possible Chip would you agree?" Jamal asks taking his seat his hands shaking as he fastens his seat belt. Chip James nods his silent agreement.

    Jamal unlike the James and Fullerton families had seen the undead up close and personal in the days after "The Event." On his way home from Southern California with his dorm mate John. Watching zombies tear into someone from a distance left you removed from the trauma. He unlike them had been close enough to hear the sounds a human made when the life was stripped from their throats. While his body was hidden his ears were left open and exposed to the gut wrenching sounds. Chip begins to decelerate closing in on the bridge he aims the bulky van for the center of a four car pile up. To his left and right he watches the dead draw a bead on the white van as if it has a dinner bell attached to its front. The dead swarm after them like children moving with glee for an ice cream truck on a hot summer’s day. Chip's heart pounds its way up from his chest lodging in his throat to his right he listens to Jamal mumbling a prayer. Raking his tongue across his lips Ben junior decides to do the same. As the van inches its way though the narrow opening Chip notices the tops of heads bobbing up and down. The first dead have made their way up the embankment on the far end of the bridge. Chip drives past the point of no return realizing he can't possibly back the van up through the opening with his lack of driving skills.

    Chip catches movement alongside the van from his window. Cutting his eyes to the left his first thought is that there's a zombie keeping pace with the creeping van. Turning further to investigate the body he sees what turns out to be a young African American girl dressed in military fatigues carrying a large rifle. The young woman is wearing gore covered fatigues with a large pack on her back. She's desperately attempting to get his attention waving her hand briskly in front of her face and the pointing forward with her whole hand like she's mimicking a shark’s fin. "Uh daaaaad." Chip calls out in alarm. "There’s a soldier walking besides the van carrying a huge gun wearing a bloody uniform." The boy squirms in his seat hearing his father leap up in the vans claustrophobic rear. "There is one on my side too and he's carrying another soldier I think." Jamal blurts out as the soldier on his side with a fresh bandaged splint covering the bridge of his nose moves in to pound the window with the back of his fist. "Let us in now!" The big man with the other soldier on his shoulders shouts leaning so close his breath condenses on the dirty glass. Ben comes into the picture from the back pressing his bulk over Chips back. "Dad." Chip protests swerving gradually to his left. "What are they doing?" Ben demands glancing nervously to his left and back over to the right in an effort to take in the scene. "Mr. James should we let them in the van? So you know there are a lot zombies walking up from the opposite end of the bridge headed this way.” Jamal begins to move his hand for the lock on the door. "No." Ben cries freezing Jamal's hand in midair. Gunfire erupts from the female soldier on the Chips side as she engages the dead alone. The girl drops to one knee measuring her shots methodically. She takes on the advancing corpses before them each round she’s fired so far is a clean head shot dropping one of the scattered zombies in stride. "Get to the back." Ben pounds the window over Jamal's head stabbing a meaty finger in the air as if the soldier couldn't tell where the back of the van happened to be. The sound of the gunshots instantly brings screams of terror from baby Cammy nestled in Bianca’s arms. Anne who is still copping with the weight of losing her parents in such a horrific manner does not hesitate to motion for Bianca and her children. Bianca Fullerton scrambles over to the cluster of James' against the vans wall dragging Dakota roughly as she goes. "Stop the van junior." Ben bounds past the women and children hunched over in the vans rear to the back doors. Without pausing he throws the doors wide bringing his pistol to the ready. However the sight that greets him he is in no way prepared for.

    It seems as though every shambling zombie they had past by this morning tracked the dingy white van like literal bloodhounds as it drove. The dead were a mass reminiscent of the crowd one sees when looking from the stage back over hundreds of concert goers and their numbers grew by the minute. The horde of living dead was so massive that it generated enough noise to attract aimless zombies from blocks away. The first ragged corpse was no more than ten to twenty feet back of the van with stragglers scattered about in advance of the main herd of flesh seekers. "Dear God." Ben chokes on his words the pistol in his hand dropping silently to his side. From his left the large soldier with his comrade draped over his shoulders appears. He is less focused on the dead and more concerned with quickly relieving himself of the weight on his shoulder. "Pull her in” the he orders laying a young Hispanic looking girl with a nasty head wound at Ben’s feet. Ben James grabs the girl by her uniform straps then drags her further into the vans belly. In that time the boy with the name "Carson" emblazoned on his military fatigues has unhooked a black rifle. With a flick of his thumb he disarms the weapon’s safety taking two long steps over to the side where the girl was steadily firing her gun. "Locket we gotta go let's go!" He screams around the corner getting no response. Ben stares at the boy seeing the fear in his grey eyes over the nose splint. Ben's mouth feels dirty as he prepares to speak. He wonders briefly if his kids can see the fear in his eyes. "Hey get your friend this is a pick up not a delivery we’re leaving.” Ben checks the girl lying unconscious at his feet for bite marks or other suspicious wounds. "Damn." The soldier boy peeks around the corner then back out the advancing crowd of zombies. "Just wait sir please." Carson props his black assault rifle on his shoulder. He pours an entire clip into the zombies coming for the exposed rear of the van. Aiming high Carson increases his head shot count zombies topple back slowing their ever advancing kin. Dropping the gun to his side he flips a second identical gun up holding up his index finger to Ben pleading for a few more seconds. Carson closes the distance between himself and Locket with two great strides. He doesn't give a second thought to grabbing the focused young woman from behind in all the chaos. Carson had done his stint in basic training with Locket and he'd seen her get like this once before. She and their squad leader were competing for bragging rights and Locket had tunnel vision. She didn't snap back to normal until her last spent shell clattered about on the concrete floor at the shooting range. Carson is stunned by the sheer number of dead converging on the van. The slightest noise something heard thousands of times a day magnified by the sounds of daily life and all it took was the sound of one car engine to draw the attention of hundreds of zombies. He snatches her up in one quick motion "Locket it's me whatever you do don't stop shooting." There was more room separating the dead from the front of the van than behind it. Carson spins about bringing Locket's attention to the greater threat with her held in a tight bear hug. Locket steadies her sights on the dead as best she can while begin jostled in Carson‘s embrace. Her shots are far less accurate with this volley. She hit’s more limbs and body trunks which the dead simply shrug off continuing their advance. "Holy shit when exactly were you planning on telling me we were being flanked?” Locket stammers as they round the van. Carson simply rolls eyes in annoyance he doesn't look back as he heaves Locket into the open bay. The first hand grabs his pack from behind tugging him backwards.

 

    On instinct Carson lashes out blindly with a wicked elbow. He feels something wet crunch against his elbow then the sound of something heavy and meaty dropping to the pavement. Locket is up grabbing Carson along with Ben yanking him forward. She jabs her sidearm out over Carson's shoulder preparing to pull the trigger inches from her team mate’s ear. Locket presses the barrel to the forehead of a zombie bearing its rotten splintered teeth like a snake ready to strike. She squeezes the trigger then dispatches another six zombies before Cody Carson gets his balance. Private Carson flexing his long legs lunges into the van tackling both his rescuers driving them to the floor. "Go boy." Ben screams to in terror to his son as the dead mount the rear bumper ready to follow them into the vehicle through the opened doors. With no regards for his earlier trepidation Chip presses the gas pedal to the floor with as much strength as his stringy feeble legs can muster. The cargo van fishtails forward slinging the dead off en mass. They clip two burnt metal car husks with the back bumper. Speeding forward the panicked boy slams headlong into a female zombie tossing her twisted form up and over the wildly careering van. Chip swerves to avoid a dense pack of zombies at the end of the bridge. Trying desperately to compensate for his quick turn he slams the vans right front into the back of an overturned school bus. Tools and other assorted materials fly from the shelves in the rear of the van pelting those huddled helplessly on the floor the van picks up speed rocketing forward down an almost deserted frontage road.

    
      Chip is griped with such deep seeded fear he doesn't hear the screams of pain behind him. One of the van flailing doors claps shuts while its companion continues to swing back and forth. Before them the road on the other side leading to the bridge is clear except for the dead flocking to it in droves. Chip is driving faster than he'd ever dare in the course of a normal life "handicapped" or otherwise. "Slow down some Chip." Jamal snaps his fingers from the passenger seat attempting in vain to get the boys attention. Anne moans in agony to Ben’s right he tosses the muscular soldier off his chest in one quick motion. Coming to his wife's side "Honey what's wrong baby?" Anne rolls off her children having shielded their two youngest with her body when tools began raining down on top of them. "My foot … my foot ... my foot." She wails in pain. Rolling over sitting against the wall she cradles her injured left foot. The brown skinned female soldier rights herself before she fearlessly leans out the back of the speeding van. With one hand clasped around a shelf in the back of the cargo van Locket reaches out snagging the wayward open door pulling it closed. Anne places a hand to her mouth stifling a scream before speaking to her husband. "Something big hit my foot and it hurts like hell.” Ben scans the floor of the van as they hit a pothole causing everyone to duck and cover on instinct. "Chip slow down son and watch where you're going we can't afford another crash." Ben yells over his shoulder gently holding his wife's foot he slips her shoe off after untying it. Flecks of blood stain the outside of her sock which he then rolls down and off revealing a thin cut on the top of Anne's small foot. The entire top of her foot is a beet red bruise and shows signs of swelling. Sitting next to Anne is their overly concerned youngest son Brandon resting his hand on a rusted length of pipe. The offending item essentially a collection of joints he'd cut from a customer house months ago during a basement reconstruction weighing twenty pounds easily. "It's busted pretty bad honey." He tells his wife as she grimaces through gritted teeth. "Would you guys happen to have a first aid kit I can use?" Benjamin James speaks to the soldiers huddled panting out of breath over their comrade. Private Sara Locket looks up perplexed furrowing her brow. "Well hello to you too Sir.” She says curtly. "I'm Private Sara Locket United States Army and this is Private Cody Carson." Pointing to the girl lying sprawled on the floor. "This young lady here is Private Carlita Medina. If you cared to ask us who we were before telling us you needed something." "I'm sorry please forgive me where are my manners.” Ben starts to speak moving to the middle of the packed van's belly. "My name is Benjamin James and this is my wife Anne and our children Belinda, Brandon and the young man driving is Ben Jr. Sitting in the Corner is Bianca Fullerton, her infant daughter Cammy and Dakota her oldest daughter.” The child buries herself deeper into her mom’s side after hearing her name. “Up front next to my son is Jamal Mohammed he's the son of our neighbors." Suddenly Ben's mood darkens considerably his face becoming a more serious mask of anger. "And wasn't aware that I needed to make a formal introduction or cow down to someones whose life I'd just saved before I dared to ask them for a simple favor." He slams his fist into his calloused palm in anger.

 

 

 

 

 Well another week in the undead world of The Living Dark has come and gone. Our two groups of survivors have finally "Come Together." It doesn't however appear that all is going as smooth as was expected. Temper are flaring as toes are inadvertently stepped on. Come back the week of January 20th to see if the James group and the soldiers can put aside their differences.



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Chapter 19: Trapped

Chapter 19: Trapped

Private Sara Locket is watching the world before her eyes swim into and out of focus as if she was looking up from the bottom of a swimming pool. Her body aches somewhere in the distance her name is being shouted over and over. When the monstrous green APC they’d commandeered plowed headlong into the back of a freeway traffic jam. Locket and her teammate Carson were thrown against the rear of the steel box like rag dolls. Locket sits up wavering on her rear end the only functions her body performs are involuntary as the soldier doesn’t even know where she is. There's a very handsome young man in military attire standing before her shaking her by the shoulder in the dimly lit cabin. His nose is cocked at an odd angle and leaking blood down his fatigues. "Locket!" Carson shouts through his damaged nose his voice thick and nasally from the sound pushing its way past clots of blood. "Skip it..." Carson says leaving the browned eyed girl swaying he moves uphill into the front of the vehicle to check on Medina their driver. The girl’s body is slumped awkwardly in the driver's seat. Before her in the windshield there’s a thin hairline crack running left to right blood is smeared just below said crack at about eye level. Carson grimaces through clenched teeth upon deducing the source of the blood smeared across the cracked windshield. He wipes away some of his own blood with the back of his hand. Carson narrowly avoids an oil slick of crimson running back down towards the rear to the cabin… "Medina…” he calls nervously fearing for the worst. The big soldier leans down scooping Medina's body up into his arms. He attempts to stand before being yanked down roughly by the thick seat belt. Turning his back to the windshield Carson reaches across the young ladies crumpled form gently pressing the button freeing his unit mate from the safety restraint. He recoils in shock Medina's forehead has been opened up all the way across just below her hair line. The deep gash gives the appearance of a split jelly doughnut. Private Carson's training takes over as he feels Medina's wrist for a pulse. He relaxes after finding a strong pulse pounding its way up her arm. "Jesus." He mumbles catching a glimpse of Locket comically attempting to stand propping herself against the wall staggering forward slowly. Carson clumsily works his hands underneath Private Medina once he steadies himself he hefts her up against his chest.

Carson makes to maneuver his large body between the front drivers and passenger seats turning sideways. “Well hello handsome.” Carson pivots his head following the voice from outside. On the hood of the APC is a short man coated with blood down the front of his chest. There’s a bloodied bandage covering his right shoulder as he grins manically through the cracked windshield. “Where were you when I needed first aid?” The ghoul with the orange tinted eyes hisses. He lunges at the glass playfully a statuesque Carson yelps “Shit! “ In the same breath Private Carson to throws himself together with the woman he cradles down the center isle. The ghoul on the hood laughs aloud to himself taking great pride in his actions. Carson tumbles behind the second seat rolling in tight with Carlita Medina’s unconscious body. “Locket.” The boy shouts as loud as he dares to. “Locket you need to get down now.” He directs his woozy teammate to seek shelter out of view. “Huh?” is all the slow moving Locket croaks out. “Get behind that damn seat and get down one of those things is on the hood staring at us.” Carson hooks a finger back towards the front of off balanced military transport. “And I think he’s hitting on me too.” The young soldier sports a high red blush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Locket drops more out of need than fear directly across from her fellow soldiers. “Now Carson I know I banged my head pretty hard but did you say a zombie thingy is hitting on you?” Locket says from the other side of the isle. “Um I didn’t say thingy.” Carson answers defensively through his clotted busted nose. “But yes you clearly get the gist of what I‘m saying. “ He moves Medina underneath his body pushing her against the wall but being careful not to expose himself to the undead peering into the APC. “Oh well handsome it seems as though you have company.” They hear muffled by the glass from the infected man outside. “Looks like I’ll have to just let myself in maybe then we can talk.” Both Locket and Carson gaze up to the tiny hatch Medina had used to gain access to the APC.

Carson is relived recalling from basic training that the hatch on an APC locks automatically and the latch is on the inside. Locket is under that latch with her knife drawn she flicks the slide open. Her next move is for the large red button on the wall marked “Cabin Light” in green stenciled lettering. The rear of the APC is cast in ink black darkness. “Locket girl have you lost you damn mind.” He leaps to his feet in fear calling for the brown skinned solider stumbling over Private Medina as he moves. “Carson listen to me lure him in. I will grab him from behind and drive my knife into his brain from behind.” Carson hears Locket’s plan but he can’t see where she has moved to in the cabin. Sara Locket‘s voice floats from the dark. “Carson draw your gun but hide it will ya? You need to back me up and we need to shut him up before he attracts more of those damn things.” They hear footsteps echoing through the APC from overheard. The metal hatch pops open with a “clink” Carson glances up and out of round opening. He sees the cascading ribbons of orange flowing like water across the night sky. The sickly pumpkin colored light shines down into the APC cutting through the darkened haze before it’s absorbed. “Awww heeeey no fair.” The zombie whines looking down. “You turned off the lights handsome, but that doesn’t matter I can see in the dark.” Carson stands rigid the pistol in his hand slick with sweat. “I …. I’m down here.” Carson forces the words from his mouth it’s like vomiting acid. He wishes he wasn’t here Carson wants to be back home in his little town full of nobodies in the middle of nowhere. From above the zombie appears over the open hatch blocking out those neon streaks winding their way through the violet night sky. “Name’s Michael …” It says dropping down and disappearing before his eyes. The sounds of combat soon fill the cramped air inside the APC. Carson brings his pistols to bear before being hit hard. He losses the gun in the darkness he hear Locket shriek. “Sara!’ He shouts scrambling to find his footing Carson is aware of a thick gurgling sounds far bay in the armored vehicles bay.

Feeling on the floor he gives up his search for his pistol. The Private grabs for the combat knife in strapped to his leg tugging it free. Finding wall opposite where he’d left Medina Carson pulls himself up desperately wanting to flood the APC’s interior with light. He stands slapping the wall several times until he makes contact with the button. The rows of lights flicker then catch Carson sees the ghoul moving for him with outstretched arms. He swings the knife in a high vicious arc missing the zombie completely as it lands in a heap dead at his feet. Locket’s long combat knife is embedded in the base of the dead man’s skull. “Locket dammit I though it got you.” Carson yells in a panic moving towards her. “I’m fine… I’m fine close the damn hatch Carson.” She says pushing up from the rear ramp. Carson stows his knife back in its place then leaps up grasping the edge of the hatch. He uses his brawny arms to pull his head out of the open hatch. Taking a quick survey of the area he observes their surroundings. The immediate area is clear to their right the freeway is packed with wrecked cars and slow moving shadowy figures. Carson wiggles his body back down into the APC’s bay. “We’re clear…” he relays to Locket who is admiring the black blood on the front of her uniform. “I heard you scream out Locket I thought you were a goner.” Carson smirks as he seals the hatch back. “That was my battle cry Carson I was on his ass the second he touched down.” She kneels down next to Medina rolling her over. “Wow back off Locket we don’t want any of that goo on your uni on Medina until I dress her wound.” Private Locket pulls back mildly perturbed. “How is she?” Locket inquires grabbing a white first aid kit from under the seat nearest to her. She tosses it to Carson “She has a good pulse but man did she take a blow when we crashed. I think she might need stitches.” Carson opens the first aid kit pulling a bottle of saline free and throwing it to Locket. “Clean yourself up Locket I might need your help.” Private Locket pours the sterile liquid liberally over her uniform and hands. “Look Carson we need to get Medina ready to go then rest up I don’t think we should move out until daylight.” Carson nods in agreement while dabbing white gauze across Carlita Medina’s lacerated forehead. Locket retrieves the pistol from the floor where Carson had dropped. She moves behind him jabbing the weapon in the boy’s open holster.

Several hours later the sun wakes Privates Locket and Carson from a restless sleep. After some rest the pain from Carson’s nose has set in. He doesn’t know what hurt more breaking it or when Locket used her thumbs to reposition it last night. The thin aluminum splint bridging his nose is kept in place with strips of white tape making it cumbersome to say the least. They had sewn Medina’s forehead back together then passed out sleep facing each other. Carson sits up instantly alert he reaches for Medina checking her pulse. Once he finds it still going strong he calls out to Locket. “Hey ready to go?” He asks. “Yeah I say we load the first aid kit into Carlita’s pack and you carry her. I’ll take point with my M4 you keep your M4 and Medina’s as well.” Carson makes his way over to the switch turning the lights back on. “You got a look last night which way should we go?” Locket asks snapping her pack over her back while diligently checking her assault rifle. “Let’s go toward the highway but over the bridge it leads out of town and away from all these packed sub divisions.” They both stand over Private Medina her forehead visibly swollen and plumb colored beneath a large white patch of gauze. “What are our rules of engagement Locket?” Carson readies his weapon slinging over his shoulder and Medina’s rifle as well. “We don’t engage Carson we move quietly avoiding direct confrontation with the enemy. We only fire our weapons if we are surrounded with no other options. When we can we use our knives to drops the zombies or whatever the hell they are most importantly we look for another mode of transportation.” Carson takes a deep breath leaning across the driver’s seat. “Best we go out this way the roof hatch is to high and the ramp will make entirely too much noise. “Out the way farm boy let me have a look.” Locket and Carson gingerly squeeze past one another swapping places in the APC’s cab. Locket judges the distance down to the ground as the front of the APC has come to rest on the trunk of some crappy hybrid sports sedan. “Ready when you are.” Carson huffs in her ear. Locket turns to Carson realizing he’s draped Medina over his shoulders effortlessly. “Stay close.” Locket replies delicately popping the lock on the wide green door.

She extends one foot gently down on the warped metal of the car before hopping down to the ground. Locket drops to one knee instinctively rifle at the ready scanning the area. Carson drops down with a grunt next to her one hand steadying Medina while the other presses the M4’s to his body to avoid any unnecessary noise. Locket motions to her eyes with two fingers then point along the lanes of smashed vehicles. About two blocks up is a bridge that’s not as cluttered as the highway below. They move low and slow cautiously giving the open car windows a wide berth. From the opposite direct they hear a motor. Carson stands looking over the cars from a side street a white panel van with something stenciled on the side comes into view. “It’s some kind of repair van or something and it‘s headed this way.” He tells Locket squatting besides her. “Well we have to hitch a ride with them or else.” She says to Carson. “Or what Locket.” He whispers as Locket cocks her head back. Carson follows her line of sight his eyes go wide as dozens of zombies are now climbing from the wrecks on the freeway and making their way directly up the embankment. The slow moving ragged horde will overrun them in a quest to seek out the source of the engine noise. “Cause Carson it looks like they heard the van too.”

 

 

 

 

Welcome back this New Year! The Living Dark is glad to have you back for more. We have found our trip of young soldiers Privates Medina, Carson and Locket. They are trapped and injured in the back of the APC they used to flee the massacre at St. George's Hospital. They have to treat their wounds but first contend with an unwanted undead guest. Having left he safety of the APC the soldiers are trying to find a way out of the city when the spot a familiar white van coming their way. Comeback the week of January 13th to find out if our two groups meet up and survive together.

 

 

 

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Chapter 18: Homecoming

Chapter 18: Homecoming

Anne James rolls her eyes at her husband while she cradles Bianca’s head in her lap. The woman whom she'd just revived using some very rusty CPR skills bark a series of raw coughs that end in harsh wheezing. The woman’s face is a mix of soot streaks and thick white foamy saliva. "Honey focus on helping Chip drive instead of gloating about the zombie apocalypse." Anne chides her husband he turns back to face their son. The boy has the steering wheel in a death grip they haven't reached the end of the block yet and he's already sweating profusely. "Turn left Junior." Ben instructs his eldest child. "Ben baby we have to go by my parents please." Ben does an about face back in time to hear B shout "Granddad!" with glee. "OK Baby doll." He tells her spinning back in his seat. Ben’s breathing trails off his thoughts carry him far from the van to the faces of his relatives. His brother, his sisters and on the list goes people whom he loved and cherished but people he knew he’d never see alive again. He catches the lone tear teetering on his right eyelid where his son can’t see it. Absently he flicks it off his face like a summer bug. Ben is pained by the hurt of his parent’s deaths but glad they aren’t alive to see the world now at the same time.

Ben grows worried as they slowly weave past cars on the deserted street. Up ahead in the distance he can see a cluster of zombies meandering down the street. The zombie at the head of the pack takes the lead a male and he is one of the fast ones. The ghoul sprints down the middle of the street right for the van. It clutches a blood covered stick of some sort in its glove clad hands. "Alright Chip remember what your grandfather told you to do if you’re going to hit a deer.” Ben grabs his seat belt clicking it in securely. "Speed up..." Chip bites down on his bottom lip putting as much pressure as his feeble legs can muster onto the van’s gas peddle. Ben is pulled back into his seat from the sudden acceleration of the vehicle. He watches the figure close the distance quickly as the rest of the crowd lurches towards the van like macabre bobble head dolls. The pack leader is covered in blood running full tilt down the street like they were playing chicken. Ben knew in his mind the lone fleshy zombie would lose meeting the one ton steel van head on. “If all goes well son he should be thrown up and over top.” Ben says placing a steadying hand on the faded blue dashboard. He tugs the revolver free from his waistband holding it firmly in free hand. He’s is so focused on the tanned skinned zombie that he almost misses the fear in its eyes. More dead wander into the picture from every direction they converge drawn out by even the slightest noise. The figure running for their van is afraid “and zombies don’t know fear.” Ben thinks to himself the running figures features become clearer as they come together. A quick look at Chip he sees his boy staring intently out battered windshield. “Jamal?!” Ben whispers the shock sticks the name in his mind and his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He knows the zombie racing towards them, he knows the man.

“Stop!” he screams yanking the steering wheel sharply to the side. The van skids sideways wildly turning completely about coming to an abrupt stop. The white “James and Sons” van clipped the rear of an abandoned car on the side of the road and was now facing the opposite direction. Protest erupt from the vans rear as the women and children are tossed about. “It’s Jamal ….” Ben shouts at his dazed son. “The Mohammed’s son Jamal.” He yells hustling from his seat. The big husky carpenter moves gingerly about the cramped rear of the van hoping over Bianca. As gently as he can Ben lifts B and the infant she is holding up off the rear doors. He places them both firmly into Brandon’s arms. “Get back I don’t know if he is one of them.” Ben commands leveling the pistol he throws one of the rear doors open. “Mr. Benjamin James…” The young Americanized Iranian leaps into the van Ben catches him pinning him to the floor in one smooth motion. Jamal’s bloodied baseball bats skids across the van’s floor. One look out the door spurs Ben into action as a set of ragged finger tips grab the open door. A woman comes moaning through a hole torn in her neck deep crimson blood stains cascade over her once pink nightgown. Ben aims the pistol his hand trembling slightly. Dozens of zombies come into view over the walking corpse’s shoulders. Ben squeezes the trigger while kneeling on a terrified Jamal Mohammed. The slug decimates the woman’s right eye socket burrowing its way through her skull before exploding out the back of her head. The ghoulish woman tips back slowly falling at the feet of the advancing mob of zombies.

“Go Chip Go!” Ben shouts to his son who was turned around facing the chaos. Chip whips about pinning the pedal to the floor as fast and his lame leg will allow. Tires squealing the van blots forward throwing Ben off balance tumbling backwards he’s left dangling from the speeding van. A hand snags his belt yanking him back up Ben and Jamal fall hard against a shelf lined with tools on the van‘s left side. Anne jumps over the writhing men defying gravity she leans out catching the wayward door. Gritting her teeth with effort she pulls the door shut with one hand while holding onto the locked door for support. Ben recovers first spinning off the floor placing his pistol to Jamal Mohammed’s forehead. “Are you bit, are you injured, are you one of them?” He fires off questions to the young man. “Mr. James please.” He yelps panicked unlike his father Jamal has no hint of his native accent. “I ….I… “He begins “I left school as soon as I could I hitched a ride with a friend who had a car that still worked. We managed to make it almost all the way here but last night he changed tried to kill me Sir.” His eyes dart about the cabin. “Sir I just came home to find my parents.” With that last phrase the fight drains from Benjamin James. The young man has lost all the things that Ben still had and held dear family. He lifts his girth off of Jamal pulling him upright. “I’m so sorry Jamal…” Ben slinks back against the wall his wife comes to his side. “There is no need to be sorry Mr. James I understand the things I have seen…..” Jamal says as respectful and courteous as he’d always been but Ben interrupts. “No son….” Ben moves back to the center of the van squatting as he buries his face in his hands. Ben reaches for the young man who he’d known for most of his life. “I’m sorry Jamal your parents…” He fumbles avoiding eye contact. “They … umm they didn’t make it son.” The van rocks as it drives over something Ben sits back against the wall his wife consoling him. Jamal simply sits silent in the middle of the floor he looks about the van in a daze. “I tried son I offered everyone a chance to hunker down in my shelter with us but they refused.” Ben sniffles deeply wiping at his eyes. “Your family Mr. James they are all here?” He asks. Anne looks at each of her children before nodding at Jamal. “My parents they are together wherever their souls have come to rest.” Jamal scurries over to Anne and Ben. “I will stay with you now you are my family now Mr. and Mrs. James. You are all that I know in this world you too Mrs. Fullerton.” He motions to Bianca Fullerton who sways groggily close to the front of the van. Ben extends his hand Jamal takes it gripping it tightly as cracking a thin smile. “Dad … mom” Chip shouts from the van’s driver’s seat. “We are coming up to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.” Belinda cheers at the news still holding the baby in her lap offering Brandon a high five. Scampering over to B he gleefully returns the gesture with gusto.

“Stay here everyone.” Ben tells his eager family one would think it was just another Sunday visit to Grand Ma’s and Grand Pa’s. “Jamal can you do me a favor please?” The young man snaps to in agreement. “No problem Mr. James.” He answers moving to the van’s front. “Jamal call me Ben if you don’t mind.” A pang of guilt touches Ben’s heart. Ben understands all to well he’s just informed the young college student of his parents demise and not ten minuets later. He has told Jamal to disregard the respect his parents raised him to have. “Yes sir I can do that.” Jamal tells him smiling broadly feeling comfortable for the first time in days he has a place to belong. “Alright Jamal stay here and grab your bat. If I need back up it’ll up to you trust me I’m counting on you.” Ben scans the street for the moment no dead mill about, but he’s knows they are there in the shadows. He does see about a half a dozen corpses lying around his in-laws front porch. Odder still Ben sees his Father in law relaxed in one of his lawn chairs on the front porch smoking a cigarette. The man looks as if he doesn’t have a care in the world he appears oblivious to the current state of the planet. “He hasn’t smoked in over twenty years.” Ben thinks to himself “Not since he beat back lung cancer in the early nineties.” Benjamin James’ mind is awash with bad thoughts knowing full well this can’t be good. “Chip don’t turn the van off keep it running and in drive with your foot on the brake son.” He pops the door open sliding off the seat finishing his sentence. “Yes dad.” Chip calls to his father but it’s lost with the closing of the door.

Ben watches the lone figure on the porch praying to God the man is alive. With the trauma to come in his kids life Ben didn’t want to start the apocalypse by putting down his wife’s father in front of their children. “Pops?” He shout whispers loud as he dares to his mind muddled in confusion. The old man with the traditional Marine balding buzz cut gives him a pained one handed wave his lit cigarette trailing smoke like a sky writers’ bi-plane. Ben cocks his revolver somewhat relived stepping over a male corpse in a filthy postman’s uniform. The post man lying face up with a bullet hole where it’s nose once was is one several bodies attracting flies in the morning sun. Ben takes the first step tentatively aware this is the most exposed he’s been since the Event. The outside now feels foreign polluted by the dead unsafe for anyone not infected. “Pops what the hell are you doing outside and …” Ben’s words seize in his throat choking him. His Father in Law sits with on hand propped on a weathered banister the other clutched around his blood soaked midsection. To the man’s right a small table with a bloodied pack of Camel cigarettes, a black well kept pistol and thirty ought six rifle with a hunting scope its stock caked in dried blood. “Jesus Pops oh God.” Ben paces the front porch running his hands roughly over his head. Ben chants “OK” over and over again he not sure if his wife can see the distress etched on his face as she has moved to occupy the passenger seat. Her face is contorted with worry he wants to motion to her wishing he could have prepared himself for the shock that met him at on his porch. To late his wife pops the door open dropping one foot to the asphalt below. “Annie May James.” The old man shouts flicking his cigarette butt into the yard. Anne was frozen as any person would be from birth to adulthood having ones parents use the triple name call out was a universal sign to a child of any age that there would be no debate. “Don’t you come up here get back in that van now.” He winces in pain his face pale and ashen. “Ben are my grand babies OK?” He asks his speechless son in law who simply nods “yes.” “Honey daddy loves you now get back in there and take care of those babies.” He tells his only daughter the hurt on her face is evident. As if on cue Belinda pokes her head out of the door slithering her thin body into the seat standing. “Hi Grand Pa!” She yells out as loud as she can her arms wave wildly in the air. “I love you!” She carries on Ben watches his Father in Law this time the pain he feels is different. Bob Lawson returns his grand daughter’s sentiment of love with one of his own. “Grand dad loves you too baby now get back in the van Baby Girl.” Calling her by the pet name he’d adopted for his youngest grand child. He fixes his lovely daughter with a blank stare hoping he can relay to her the love he and his wife have for her. Anne stumbles as she reluctantly ushers B back into the van then climbs in herself.

“Ben son …” Bob speaks without taking his eyes off his daughters face. Ben doesn’t answer he is transfixed at the sight of a man he’d grown to regard as a father in the years since losing his dad. The man’s hand is holding his intestines in a wicked wound covering his stomach from left to right. Bob Lawson has been disemboweled his fingers now mashing in the gelatinous stringy contents of his stomach cavity. He was literally sitting in a pool of blood and his own entrails from his waits down. “Ben.” The old Marine snaps pulling his son in law from his stupor. “Sir?” Was all Ben could croak out of his dry mouth. “Son I am sorry for the way I treated you in the beginning.” The two men face each other on the porch Ben’s makes to protest. Bob Lawson lifts his free hand silencing the protest yet to come. “I was ignorant I saw your color and not your content I saw you taking my only child my baby.” Tears find their way over the rims of Bob’s eyes now. “I hope…. I pray you can find it in your heart to forgive me son. One day some young man will come to you if this world gets right again and he will ask you for Belinda’s hands. Maybe then Benjamin you’ll see a glimpse of what made me so stubborn and mean spirited. For the record mother loved you the first day she met you.” The man chuckles suddenly pressing both hands to his eviscerated midsection as a cough bubbles up bringing blood colored spittle with it. Ben awakes from his confused state realizing he hadn’t seen his beloved mother in law. “Bob I told you we had this discussion years ago I’m fine I got over it figured I had to earn you respect and Anne’s hand.” Ben moves for the front door of the house. “Where’s Mother Lawson Bob?” A sharp bang from inside the house drives him back. Ben turns to his Father in Law weakly searching the man’s face for answers. “Ben son never deprive a man the chance to unburden himself to you when he’s about to meet his maker.” The man looks older somehow maybe it’s the blood loss or maybe it’s the emotional loss. “Yesterday some punk hurt Margaret yesterday when she went to let the cat in.” He swallows hard. “Last night something happened to her son. She came at me I didn’t know what to do I couldn’t bear to hurt her. She chased me about the house all night. She ah….” He looks down resigned to his fate glancing over the near fatal injury. “She got a butcher’s knife and opened me up something fierce. I made it out her just before dawn locked her inside.” Reaching over he attempts to free a cigarette from the crumpled pack. Ben steps up to help Bob grabbing the unfiltered cigarette placing it to the man’s trembling lips. Ben grabs silver Zippo light from the table flicking top back he holds the dancing flame to the cancer stick. Bob Lawson draws in deep relishing his last cigarette as a condemned man. Ben makes to hand the lighter back Bob motions with his hand. “Keep it.” He says absently blowing out smoke.

“Son do you have another gun?” He asks pointing to the small silver revolver long forgotten in Ben’s thick hand. “Just this I didn’t have any extra shells though but we have bats and this mallet that Chip calls lucky.” Ben informs his wounded kin. “Tell you what Ben here take my Forty Five you’ll need it. I’ve kept her clean and oiled since Uncle Sam gave her to me. I got to my guns set them by the door when Margaret was attacked so I managed to grab them and my portable HAM radio as I stumbled out the door.” The man’s eyes flutter Ben can see the man loosing strength as his life drains out across the stained wooded porch. “Take my rifle too there are shells and clips for each under the table with the radio.” Ben leans forward collecting the things as he’d been told Bob grabs his arm as he stands up. “Give me your revolver Ben. I need to do what I couldn’t last night and I won’t need many rounds for that son.” Before Ben knows it he has embraced Bob Lawson his father in law. The men hug on the porch Ben wants to say so much he wants to do more but he knows there is nothing more he can do. Bob Lawson pushes his son in law away. “Now look Ben I talked to some of my HAMMY friends their channels are on a card I wrote in the battery compartment.” Ben nods curtly trying to hold back the tears he longs to shed. He hands his revolver to Bob Lawson. He tosses the rifle over his shoulder then tucks the pistol in his waistband where the revolver had been. Kneeling down picking up the radio and ammo boxes Ben gets an up close view of the man’s injury. He had heard stories from Anne of her father’s legendary toughness. Ben had dismissed that as a daughters aggrandizement of her all powerful “Daddy.” His daughter Belinda clearly suffered from the same heroic delusions as her mother had.

“Ben.” The sound of his name brings Ben back from his reminiscing. “You protect them Ben protect your family …my baby … my grand babies. Don’t live long enough to see those things have at them you hear me boy?” Ben's sighs “Yes sir I swear to you I will.” Ben declares his oath standing before Bob Lawson. “Good now get the hell out of here I have to finish this and we’re drawing a crowd.” The man points out down the block. Where there had been no ghouls before there were dozens encircling the house and moving closer. Ben pulls the pistol free from his waist. “Don’t not shoot unless you have to sound attracts them.” Bob enlightens his son in law. “And Ben go to ground hunker down don’t be out in the open at night. Some of them get smarter, faster, and meaner when the sun goes down.” Ben doesn’t know what to say he is in awe of his wife’s father. Still in this dark hour he call to duty is only out weighed by his selflessness. “I love you Pops.” He says perched at the top stair. “I know son now get them the hell out of here so I can do what I need to do. Tell my babies I love them and tell my Annie her daddy has been proud of her every minuet of everyday of her life.” He drops the remnants of the cigarette in the gooey pool of congealed blood at his feet. Ben vaults from the porch with a purpose, he’s no longer hesitant but embolden with the courage his father in law had bestowed upon him. He knows the old Marine is watching and he doesn’t waiver in an effort to impress Bob Lawson. His only desire is to show the man he will care for his precious cargo and fight back the demons of the new world. He crosses the distance to the van as the passenger door swings open. Jamal comes out bat in hand Ben raises the black pistol to fire as a short male zombie has found it‘s was between him and his family. The young one time college student is faster one blow caves the dead thing’s skull. The walking corpse falls motionless to the ground Ben steps over it never breaking stride. He jumps into the van climbing into the rear leaving the passenger seat empty for Jamal. Ben goes to his wife immediately dropping the weapons without a care He sees the hope fade from her beautiful face the closer he gets. “Go Chip.” Ben calls up from the back after Jamal hops into the passenger’s seat. The van pulls away slowly as Anne unleashes a deafening wail of heartbreak. Ben takes his wife into his arms her body racked with sobs she cries out unintelligible phrases of pain. Brandon and Belinda weeping collapse heavily upon their parents and are pulled into the embrace. Up front Chip drives though the veil of tears blurring his vision. Jamal rubs Chip’s shoulder from his position in next to him. Bianca sits huddled with her girls as the van turns the corner.

On the porch Bob Lawson waits for the van to disappear from sight secure in the knowledge his family is safe. The zombies have reached his yard one viciously mauled policewoman in bumbling up his bottom step. He musters the last of his strength letting his midsection go free with a Herculean effort Bob pushes up from his chair. He wavers in place as his intestines spill out like a bucket of old fish. The dead police officer reaches for him as she steps onto the porch. He puts one round between her eyes sending the zombies tumbling back of the porch into the arms of its kind. He waddles to the front door trailing his own entrails turning the key he left in the knob earlier. Bob Lawson shoves hard knocking back the weight against the door. The man fumbles into his home slamming the door shut he stands in the dark listening for the growls of the thing that had taken resident in his wife’s body. Bob fires one shot in the dark putting her down for good for a moment the house is silent and still the way it used to be. The pounding on the door starts the weary old man slides down the wall slowly plopping on the floor he waits for death to claim him. A tug jiggles a slimy piece of Bob’s guts that have gotten caught in the door after he locked it. The sausage like rope is pulled taught after the first undead walking corpse finds the still warm delicacy. Bob succumbs to gravity as he is pulled sideways laying against the door. From the other side of the tan door zombies fight for scraps of the Bob’s entrails. Wet chewing noises and guttural grunts are the last things Bob Lawson hears in this life.

 

 

 

Tonight we witnessed the James family take a heart breaking detour to the home of Anne's parents. After they have met up with Jamal Mohammed the college aged son of their now deceased neighbors. Bob and Margaret Lawson haven't fared as well as the James family unfortunately. The tragedy of the visit is sure to be the first of many for the family seeking to survive the zombie apocalypse.

 

 

 

 

We will return after a holiday break the week of January 6th 2013. Plan on coming by for a look see as we catch up with our favorite trio of stranded young soldiers.

 

 

 

 

The Living Dark would like to wish all of it's friends, family and fans a very Merry Christmas.

 

 

 

Sincerely:

 

 

 

 https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheLivingDark

 

 

 

Chapter 17: Buggin Out

Chapter 17: Bugging Out

Ben musters everything he has taking the stairs two at a time fearing for the safety of his wife and children. Bursting from the basement Ben throws the bags to the floor sweating spinning about he sees the children all huddled together with no trace of the women. His legs move before he tells them to Ben finds the women gathered in the living room. At their feet lay the battered decomposing motionless bodies of Napoleon Archer and Bianca’s husband Carl Fullerton. Between the wailing infant, Bianca’s hysterical howling and Anne attempts to console her friend the house was a symphony of noise. “Bianca ….. Bianca …” Ben wades in to the fray. The sobbing woman with the baby in her arm whirls about slapping him across the face hard. “You bastard you murdered him.” She screeches storming forward. “Hold on damn it.” Ben stands his ground catching the woman’s arm mid swing. “Look dammit Bianca…“ Smoke drifts down his throat seizing his lungs. Ben forces the racking cough back down. “I’m sorry Carl attacked me but he wasn’t himself, so did Nate. I didn’t know how to tell you I’m sorry.” He shouts at the struggling woman who is no match for Ben even if she wasn’t cradling the baby with one arm. “Bianca please we have to go and you have to be quite those things are everywhere they’ll hear you.” Ben begs with his neighbor’s wife glancing over his shoulder. “Please we have to go…” He tells woman as she rips from his grasp.

Bianca breezes past the couple pulling her daughter Dakota from amidst the James children. Suddenly the barred front door rattles as something is hammers against it from the outside. The sounds become a steady drumming of blows to the plywood security barrier. Anne only catches a glimpse of Ben’s terrified face his eyes so wide they appear lidless. She backs down to her own children trembling in fear. “Bianca please we have to go.” He implores the frantic angry woman but to no avail. On the second level of the house something gives way with a splintering crash. A wave of thick choking smoke pours down the staircase enveloping the rooms shrouding everything in a suffocating mist. “Last chance Bianca…” He shouts through the smoke. “Get away from me murderer.” That’s all Ben needs to hear bolting though the haze he collides with his wife feeling for his two smaller children. He dips low snagging the bags he’d deposited on the floor in haste. “Anne?!” He stammers pushing forward lifting one of the forms at his legs up over his shoulders. “Yeah Ben it’s me…” As she answers she feels herself being drug though the house her eyes unable to adjust until she realizes they are in the garage the air slightly clearer. Ben pins his wife and kids to the rear of the van then runs around to his son sitting in the driver’s seat. Under the door the daylight is now almost totaling obscured by wobbling shadows. “Open up Chip now.” The boy does as ordered Ben returns popping the door ushering his family in to his work van. Ben heaves the bags of supplies in first then hops in behind them closing the doors tripping over the wheelchair making his way up from the rear. “Ben….. Ben baby please.” Anne is crying from the vans cramped rear holding her babies who weep softly. “Please baby we can’t leave her and the kids Ben please.” She pleads with her husband knowing he was a better man than this. “Anne honey for God’s sake if you have seen what we’ve seen baby we have to go she’s attracted Lord knows how many of them to us. My family first she made her choice. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Now Chip start this damn thing up now so we can get the hell outta here!” He stabs a finger at the keys dangling in the ignition acutely aware he rarely raises voice at his children.

The van’s engine turns over smoothly without a word she appears at her father’s side hands folded in front of her little baby fat potbelly. “Daddy why do bad things happen to good people?” She inquires softly leaning on her father’s brawny shoulder. The big carpenter stammers uncontrollably. “Daddy what’s going to happen to Dakota and her mommy and the baby?” Ben couldn’t look his daughter in the eyes. “Honey her daddy is in heaven and I have to take care of you and our family.” In the back of the van Anne’s tears have stopped. For while she holds sway over her husband Anne knows his “baby girl” is his Kryptonite. “Daddy you couldn’t save Dakota’s daddy I understand if you can’t save her and her mommy but the baby that makes me sad.” The little girl returns to her mother plopping down her lap huge salty tears of anguish pooling at her feet. Ben sits paralyzed by the weight of what a man is versus what his child thinks he is …… a superhero. Ben’s jaw clenches his breathing quickens a vein pulsates at his temple. “Keep the van running lock the doors.” Ben says stepping back out into the smoky garage mumbling to himself something about “being a damn superhero.” He runs back into his burning house trailing his hand along the wall he pulls away once the wall gets hot. The flames leap down the stairs now roiling across the ceiling from the stairway into the kitchen. Ben hunches low using the light from the flames and the pounding on the front door to orientate himself as he’s nearly blind. “Bi…” Was all he could get out before he gagged choking from the thick noxious smoke. Dropping to the floor Ben begins to commando crawl forward to where he had last seen Bianca. Hearing the infant girl moan Ben lashes out a hand he takes hold of a warm leg. Feeling about he grips a tiny gym shoe pulling the bodies closer. Ben feels the soft robe Bianca was wearing gently he takes the baby up. Ben then positions Bianca on her back laying Dakota across her mother he then places the baby atop the pile. Pushing his hands under the pile Ben grunts between coughs hoisting all three likely unconscious figures up against his chest. Light fills the dark smoky room as the front door finally gives way under the assault caving inward.

The fresh infusion of oxygen invigorates the fire fueling it to consume the kitchen wall. Smoke is pulled towards the smashed front door the air clears enough for Ben to see. What he sees coming through the now swirling clouds of billowing smoke spurs him into action. Dozens of heads and hands crowd their way into the doorway. They smash against each other in an undulating mass clogging the doorway wailing and moaning. Snarls fill the air Ben stands lifting the remnants of the Fullerton clan hustling nearly blind through the house. Instinctively he pulls back as the intense heat forces him away from the engulfed staircase. Ben huffs woefully out of shape carrying what he assumes to be no more than the bodies of his one time neighbors. Behind him the sounds of the house being ransacked echo over the roaring flames. Ben’s lungs burn from the smoke he falters as he hears the figures behind him. The image of the person walking consumed by flames from Nate’s house with no concern for the fire searing its flesh drives him to move faster. Going though the doorway he bumps Bianca’s head on the door frame “that’s for slapping me” he thinks tinged with guilt. “Anne.” he wheezes no louder than a whisper the mob sounds closer now. Ben doesn’t know if the heat on the back of his neck is from the fire on one of the “matchstick people” now bouncing around his house. Ben spins in the garage using a foot to kick shut the door to the house. He bumps painfully into his van hearing movement from within and the doors open. “My God…” Anne shouts flinging open the doors pulling the bodies from Ben’s arms onto the floor of the van. He slams the van doors shut just as the door to the garage splinters. Ben fumbles eyes burning chest heaving he flings the passenger door open jumping inside. “Go boy go!” He cries mashing the button on the garage door opener hanging from the visor over Chip’s head.

The door lifts slowly on well oiled wheels shuffling feet coming into view as the rear of the van is battered from yet unseen attackers. Chip has tunnel vision driven by nerves and adrenaline. The handicapped teen lets the door get about half way up seeing the bodies pressed against it before he guns the van’s powerful engine. The van lurches forward like a battering ram scattering bodies while peeling the aluminum garage door from its track. The sunlight is a shock to those who’ve spent the last two days in virtual darkness nothing is more shocking that the horror before them. The heavy van bounces wildly as it rips the door free while driving over prone bodies. Their once quite Cul de sac is now a scene of utter chaos. The houses are ablaze in a horseshoe of fire bloodied battered forms wander from every direction and then they all hone in rushing the van. “Dad I think we just ran over Mr. Mohammed.” Chip stammers his father placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Ben cast a glance in his rear view mirror to see the home he built from the ground up consumed in an inferno. Pouring from the open garage door dozens more of those shambling things his son had called “zombies.” Turning in his seat he watches he wife vigorously performing CPR on Bianca. His little girl B holds the Fullerton’s fussing infant daughter who has soot cake around her nostrils on her lap. Dakota sits against the vans rear door crying softly. Ben speaks with a great sense of I told you so. “Hey baby since the zombies are just walking around all normal like. Do I at least get partial credit for there being actual zombies?”

 

 

Well now all hell has officially broken loose as the James family has fled their once safe home. What will they find in this new unforgiving world? Can Benjamin James keep his family together more importantly can he keep them alive?

 

 

Comeback the week of December 16th to find out the answers to all your questions and for the next chapter of The Living Dark.

 

 

 

Sincerely

 

 

 

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