White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel (8 page)

Two headlights turned the corner up the private drive, and Rex caught the briefest glint of red from the car, his wife Ginger's car.  Rex knew that he and his wife would have to make some big decisions this weekend.

###

Alison sat at the mall with her nails and hair done, prepared for an evening out on the town that wouldn’t happen.  She couldn’t face an evening at home alone, so she continued to sit where Mike told her he would meet her.

The life of a physician's spouse never lived up to the glamour that most people would expect.  Medical school itself was a survival experience as many couples found the stresses and temptations too much.  The first year of Mike's medical school went okay, Alison had a support group.  There were plenty of other spouses going through the same experience. Once they moved away for Mike Carson to start his clinical rotations, Alison felt herself cut off from friends and family.  Carson had been a physician for a couple of years now, but the loneliness hadn’t abated for Alison.  They moved to Butler a year ago, but she still had not made many friends in the community. Alison felt like she had to make things right with her husband before she could focus on building any other relationships.   

Alison wanted connection and love from her husband, but the only thing fate brought to her was a food court employee.

"Miss," the man said, "Would you like a free sample of cheese steak?"  Alison was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the man.  After a few seconds, he wondered off. 

She envisioned her husband in another woman's arms.  Hardly a woman and more of a girl, she thought.  Her finger lightly pushed at a grey plastic pepper shaker.  It wasn’t the first time her husband cheated on her; it was just the latest.  Back in medical school, Mike Carson had cheated on her with a fellow student.  It should have cost them their marriage, but Alison agreed to stay. She feared the consequences of facing the future alone.

Yet again, she had confirmation of his unfaithfulness.  Earlier in the day, she went to surprise him at work.  She drove to the hospital and pulled into the parking garage to find a spot. On the second level, she found a convenient space and backed in.  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her husband.  The phone rang three times before Carson picked up.

"Hey birthday girl," Carson said, "What's up?"

"I thought I'd come find you at the hospital today," Alison said.  There was a pause on his end.

"Don’t bother, I'm not there yet," Carson said.

Alison sat in her car and watched while a doctor in a white lab coat and a young girl walked hand-in-hand through the garage away from her.  She recognized her husband instantly.  Alison squeezed the steering wheel in shock.  It felt like her heart was falling off a cliff, but she managed to keep her voice even on the phone.

"Where are you?" she said. Again there was a pause.

"We had that tour of the timber yards this morning," Carson said.

"I don’t remember you telling me about that," she said.

"Sure you do,” he said.  It's where they get the White Ash to make Louisville Sluggers.  They get it here in Pennsylvania.  We drove up early this morning.  I told you all about the trip last week."

Alison could see Carson stop and pull the girl in close to him. 

"Listen, babe. I want to focus on driving, but I wanted to let you know that I love you with everything in my heart.  You’re the best part of me, and I'd walk through fire to make you happy."

It was the most heartfelt, sincere thing Carson had ever said to Alison, and he held another woman in his arms saying it.  She would have never believed it was a lie, if she didn’t see him holding the other girl as he said it.  He hung up the phone and walked away with the girl never knowing his wife had seen him. 

Alison had always been considered attractive with her black hair and tight body.  She shared the black hair with her late grandmother who was Spanish by birth.  Her mother said she only looked better with age.  She didn’t feel that way.  She felt like her self-confidence was slipping away.  She had tried to feel good today.  She worked out this morning, had her hair and nails done, put on a pair of expensive earrings, and wore her favorite tight fitting jeans.   It was all for nothing.  Today, Alison knew she would celebrate her 33rd birthday alone. She knew Carson would text her to say that he had to cover for a fellow physician and would be late for their celebration.  This would mean he was off with his latest conquest. 

She extended her index finger toward the strawberry smoothie and pushed it away from her bit by bit.  Condensation from the plastic container pooled on her French-tipped nail.  “I wonder where I can get some rum to put in this,” Alison said to herself. 

Despite her inner turmoil, Alison noticed that things were happening at the mall.  A number of police and EMTs were walking around the food court.  Several EMTs brought in gurneys and boxes of medical equipment.  They stacked the boxes on the gurneys and pushed them next to the wall.  They were clearly setting up shop.

The mall's public announcement system clicked on. 
"Attention Clear Water Mall shoppers, there has been an incident downtown Butler, and the Clear Water Mall has been designated as an evacuation point for area residents.  The Center Township Police department has informed us that for the time being, everyone is asked to stay inside the mall for their own safety. Do not to attempt to leave."

So perhaps Mike didn’t stand me up, Alison thought to herself.  At least he wouldn’t be spending his time with that girl.

The food court sat near one of the mall's main entrances. Through the plate glass doors Alison saw the flashing lights of several ambulances pulling up outside the door.  Inside, mall staff and EMTs continued to clear space that might be needed by the authorities. 

Things changed dramatically in the next couple of hours. The mall began to fill with hundreds of frightened people.  Some of the refugees scurried out into the mall as if they were looking for a place to hide.  Outside, emergency services had set up a makeshift treatment center with ambulances and gurneys.  Alison could see the EMTs busy dealing with some of the more serious cases out there.

The mall announcer clicked on again.
"Ladies and gentleman, the police are asking that we clear out the food court area except for the injured.  There is plenty of seating in the court yard area in front of the jewelry store." 

Alison got up to start walking, when she noticed that one of the patients outside appeared to be trying to attack a paramedic. A number of people were trying to restrain the man.  Alison watched as another paramedic crew gave up on a patient and covered the body. When the paramedics walked away, the body began to move.  An older woman near the door also saw the body move and began to scream, "Oh my god, it's happening here." 

Other refugees watched frozen. The man got up and grabbed the nearest EMT and embraced him fully with arms and teeth.  Several people in the watching crowd screamed, and others tried to scatter away, but many fell and got caught in a stampede. 

Alison ran from the crowd, not even bothering to grab her purse. Up ahead, she could see an electronics store employee lowering the steel gate to his store.  Alison managed to duck under the closing gate with several other people before it closed. 

A single gunshot brought additional screams from the crowd. The one shot turned into several, dozens, and hundreds. They came from both ends of the mall and then only came screaming.

Outside of the store, people continued to run in every direction, like caged rats looking for an escape in a sealed box.

"What's happening?" a man inside the electronics store asked with tears streaming down his face. 

"We heard on the CB radio that people downtown were turning on each other and tearing each other apart," said a store employee. His nametag identified him to customers as Ted.  “We decided to lock ourselves in to make sure whatever is happening out there couldn’t get in.”

###

One hour earlier.

Don Burgess, an off duty State Police Trooper headed south on Route 8 from Slippery Rock.  Ten miles outside of Butler, he came to a roadblock that was turning traffic around.

He pulled his car to the side of the road, but the local law enforcement officer ordered Burgess back in his car.  Burgess ignored the local. "I’m Lt. Burgess, State Trooper, out of Meadville. What’s going on here?" 

The local police officer visibly relaxed at the Trooper’s identification.

"It's, it’s a mad house in Butler,” the man said. “People are tearing each other apart. They say murder and cannibalism is taking place everywhere. There’s been no radio contact from anybody in the downtown area in hours.  Hell, even the EOC isn’t responding anymore.  The last thing the EOC said was to shoot the rioters in the head."

Burgess didn’t know what to think.  What he had just been told sounded insane.  Riots happened, but not in towns like Butler and not in ways like this idiot is saying, Burgess thought.  "Who's in charge now?" Burgess said.

"Penn Township’s still broadcasting,” the man said. “They’re evacuating people to the Butler County Airport. There’s another evacuation point just south of here at the mall; I’m sure they could use your help."

Burgess turned and walked back to his car.

"One other thing” the man said, “I hope you got your service piece with you.”

Of course I have.  You stupid bastard, thought Burgess.  It was a widely known requirement for any off duty State Trooper to carry at all times.

Burgess didn’t know what to believe about the local's story, but when he tried to use his cell phone the circuits were full.  Burgess went to his trunk and opened the gun case to his AR-15.  It was clear that something was going on, and his AR-15 would be of little use, if not at arm’s reach.  Burgess also grabbed his spare uniform from the trunk and changed in the car. 

Burgess threw his portable blue magnetic emergency light onto the roof of the car and dropped the transmission into drive.  The sedan's tires sprayed gravel as it headed south.

Almost at the mall and with windows down, Burgess could hear gunfire from the checkpoint.  He could see police cruiser's lights flashing in the fading moments of day.  Officers were using their cars as cover. They appeared to be firing into a crowd of people, some running while others appeared to be attacking one another.

Burgess brought his sedan in behind the cruisers and scrambled out with his AR-15.

"What the hell is-" Burgess’ question died mid-sentence while he watched two rounds blow through the heart of a man in a yellow polo shirt.  The man kept coming forward as if nothing had happened.  A round hit him square in the head; polo shirt went down for good.

One of the other officers, a fellow state Trooper, screamed at Burgess, "If they aren’t running and screaming shoot them in the head."

In the distance, Burgess saw a man running from two women.  The man tripped.  The women fell on him and appeared to be biting and clawing at him.  The man punched and kicked at the women knocking them back, but they kept at him.  Another man fell on the victim, pressing down on his legs.  The guy screamed desperately for help but only more attackers came.

Dozens of people managed to escape the edge of the melee to head to the mall. In their wake came dozens of ambling forms.

At thirty yards away, one cop opened fire with his service pistol.

"Hold your fire till they’re closer,” the other State Trooper screamed. “You’re just wasting ammo if they’re that far away."

"What's happened to these people?" Burgess shouted to the other cops.

"Fuck if I know, but if you don’t shoot them in the head, they keep coming like the mother fucking terminator," shouted one of the officers.

Burgess brought up his AR-15 and scoped in on a target, a woman.  He couldn't shoot a woman, so he picked another target.  He found a man with a shaved head and mustache. Perfect, Burgess thought. The skinhead had his throat torn out, and Burgess could see the man's spinal cord.  The wound was an impossible injury for anyone to incur and stay mobile. 

"I got range with the AR," Burgess told the others.

Burgess green dotted the man's shoulder and pulled the trigger.  The round plugged the skinhead true to the mark.  He kept coming like nothing had touched him.  Burgess was sold, he moved the dot to the man's forehead and squeezed.  The skinhead dropped, the other zombies kept coming.

Burgess lined up another headshot on a man wearing a blood-caked button up shirt.  The man's head jerked back as the bullet caught him dead center in his forehead. 

Several more zombies dropped as Burgess lined up shot after shot, only seconds had passed.

One of the officers reached into his car to switch on the headlights, so they could see down the darkening road south of them.  The headlights revealed hundreds of bodies moving north through abandoned cars. 

Closer to the squad cars, there were at least a dozen undead mere feet away from the police.

"Hit‘em now," Burgess shouted.

The police opened fire in mass. The bullets found their marks. The gunfire created a shower of organic mass as bodies dropped over.

The thunder of the blasts ended with the sounds of spent shell casings cascading down on the pavement.  A few casings prolonged their chorus a moment longer by rolling off the cruisers hoods.