“Only you could screw up breathing,” Lenore muttered from the front seat.
“I’m sorry!” Ken coughed out, still gagging on the fur stuck in his throat.
He was pretty sure he was turning bright red when Tito ran around the RV. He was holding a crowbar in one hand. Something red and chunky was dripping from one end. Tito yanked the driver’s door open and leaned in.
“I can’t find the keys and the zombies are coming in the front door of the house. I got the back door barricaded, but we got only a few minutes before they’re out here. I’m gonna jimmy the door and hotwire the RV. The second you hear the RV turn on, I want out you out of the car and into the RV. Don’t get out of the car until you hear the engine. If things get bad, you may need to take off. I’ll follow you in the RV.”
“We’re almost out of gas,” Lenore informed Tito.
“Shit!” He ran his hand over his slick hair. “Just stick to the plan.” He shoved the door shut and loped around the back of the RV to work on the door on the other side.
Ken felt his chest tighten again and his breath caught in his fur coated throat. Silence filled the car as Lenore dragged the shotgun onto her lap. Beside him, Grandma checked her revolver one more time. All Ken had as any sort of weapon was Cher’s carrier. He stared at his feisty, angry feline and felt like sobbing. He didn’t want her to die. He didn’t want to die either.
“I really hate today,” he wailed before he could catch himself.
“You and me both,” Lenore agreed.
“I can’t say I’m fond of it either, honey.” Grandma shook her head sorrowfully.
The old RV’s engine suddenly chugged to life beside the car. A poof of dark smoke burst out of the back of it as Tito revved up the gas.
“Let’s go!” Lenore ordered.
She swung her body out of the driver’s side as Grandma popped open the back door. Ken fumbled with the lock and latch on his door, his chest hurting with anxiety. Looking up, he saw a zombie on the other side of the chain link fence bordering the alley. The creature was shaking the metal mesh violently, its mouth open in a long wail. The door swung open and Ken almost fell out as he tried to maneuver himself, Cher’s carrier and his bag out of the car. Lenore grabbed the bag of food as Grandma hurried around the back of the RV.
“Oh, Jesus, they’re coming!” the old woman cried out.
The revolver fired twice as Ken got his legs under him and finally yanked his bag out of the back seat. Sweat pouring down his face, his breath ragged in his ears, he ran around the car, ignoring the growling zombie just a few feet away on the other side of the fence. Lenore was ahead of him, running with the big bag over her shoulder.
As he came around the back end of the RV, he saw the zombies Tito had warned them about struggling through the unhinged back door and shattered windows of Mr. Thames’s house. The undead creatures fought with each other to get through the openings and to the humans trying to escape. Ken felt his breath catch in his throat as one of the zombies broke free from the tangle of legs and arms and ran straight for him.
A bullet slammed into the zombie, knocking its head back with the impact. Its body flopped like a rag doll as it fell to the ground and tumbled to a stop.
“Hurry up, boy!” Grandma yelled from the doorway of the RV.
Lenore grabbed his arm and jolted him out of his frozen state. Together they rushed to the open door. Tito appeared in the doorway holding Grandma’s gun and fired a few more shots at the pursuing zombies. Lenore tossed the bag in then clambered up into the RV. Ken knew he was hyperventilating, but couldn’t stop it. He could barely see straight as he threw his bag inside and lifted Cher’s carrier up into his arms as he tried to get in. Tito’s strong hand gripped his shoulder and dragged him inside, firing into the face of a zombie about to take a bite out of Ken’s back.
“Get him away from the door!” Tito ordered, taking another shot.
Grandma grabbed Cher’s carrier as Lenore grabbed Ken’s shirt, yanking him away from Tito. The heat inside the vehicle was overwhelming and Ken felt like he was going to faint. He felt something grab his foot and screamed. A child zombie had reached in to grab his pant leg and was trying to climb. Tito kicked the kid’s head, knocking him back out.
“Lenore, you gotta drive! I need to watch the door! I broke the latch getting in!”
“Crap!”
“You can do it, honey,” her grandmother assured her.
Ken lay on the floor, Cher staring at him through the door of her cat carrier with an accusatory look. Struggling to breathe, he crawled to a nearby chair. He pitched into it as the RV took off with a mighty jolt. Tito braced himself in the doorway of the RV and fired the last shots of the revolver. He tossed it onto the counter nearby and grabbed up the crowbar. Some of the faster zombies paced the RV as Lenore drove down the alley.
“Faster, chica!” Tito ordered. He shoved another zombie off its feet as it tried to make a dive for the door.
Lenore’s grumbling was loud and angry from the driver’s seat, but the RV picked up speed. “Hold on!”
The vehicle swung out of the alley far too fast and Ken screamed as he held on for dear life. Tito looked dangerously close to falling out of the RV for just a second. Another zombie took a swipe at him and Tito kicked it in the face.
“Where do I go?” Lenore shouted over the sound of the wind whistling through the open doorway.
“Not near downtown!” Ken wheezed at her.
“Take this street straight out to the old farm road. Don’t slow down, Lenore. They’re thick out there,” Tito instructed
Tito stared out into the chaos of the world, his powerful muscles tight under his shirt as he gripped the doorway with both hands. The crowbar glistened with blood. Ken couldn’t help but stare at the man with awe. He hated that he was falling apart. In his imagination, he had always believed himself to be stronger than this. Slowly, his gaze was drawn to the world beyond Tito.
The small town was in shambles. Houses were on fire. Cars were snarled pieces of metal crashed into sign posts or each other. Screams of terror filled the air mingling with the groans of the dead. Boarded up houses were under attack by the undead as other living people tried to escape on foot or in cars. In the distance, he saw a man on a bicycle pedaling as fast as he could just ahead of a crowd of pursuing zombies.
“Where are we going?” he finally asked. “We can’t go to another town.”
“Into the hills,” Tito finally said. “Up into the hills far away from the towns.”
“What about your family?” Ken swallowed hard, unable to imagine what Tito was going through.
“I don’t know,” Tito said after a long pause. “I don’t know.”
17.
The Dead Are Coming
Lenore’s hands were cramping. Her grip on the steering wheel kept slipping and she cursed her sweaty palms. Tightening her hold, she stared out the dirty windshield at the world that was slowly falling apart. The old RV was almost out of town, but they weren’t in the clear yet.
Hordes of the undead were wandering the streets. The walking dead were attacking anyone foolish enough to be on foot. The gruesome zombies also charged cars and tried to break into buildings. Gunshots cracked through the morning air as smoke drifted over the road, briefly obscuring her view. It was like driving through a horror movie.
Two zombies flailed at the RV as she passed, slapping their hands against her window. She gave a little start and muttered a curse, but she kept her eyes on the road and her hands steady. Freaking out while driving would not be a good thing. It would get them killed.
Lenore wished she was still sleeping and that she would wake up in her cozy bed. Her mind snagged the idea and tried to cling to it. Shaking her head, she forced the enticing daydream out of her thoughts. It was crazy to hope for something that could never happen. She had to remain focused on what was happening right now. Frowning, she concentrated on the road.
“You doing a good job, Lenore,” her grandmother encouraged her from her perch on the passenger seat.
“I’m scared to death,” Lenore admitted as she swerved around a car that had crashed into a truck.
A zombie lurched from the wreck. It was a man and he was chewing on what looked like someone’s arm. Bits of flesh and smears of blood stained his shirt. He let out a howl, stretching his hand out toward the RV as they sped by.
Another block and they would be past the last few businesses and houses on the road and heading out of town.
“Look at that,” Grandma said, her voice awed yet horrified.
Lenore glanced to the side long enough to see a small crowd of zombies rocking a trailer. She briefly saw a man and woman shooting at the zombies from the windows. More of the undead were staggering or running toward the trailer, drawn by the sound of gunfire.
“Just keep going, Lenore. Don’t do any sightseeing. It ain’t worth it,” Tito called out from behind her. “Just the same shit over and over again.”
“Yeah, zombies. Lots of them...eating...people...” Ken added in a broken voice.
The RV had almost cleared the last block when Tito shouted, “Hold up a sec!”