Zombies - What The Cat Dragged In

This one's shorter than most. I figured I'd end it here, though, since it seemed appropriate. Watch for more next week.

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Zombies - What The Cat Dragged In

We drove. The river dragged its way through the city in a meandering, whimsical path that only allowed for bridges at the least opportune places. After about half an hour of U-turns and confusing, hilly streets, we found one that hadn't been completely destroyed. The sign, now hanging askew, claimed it was the High Level Bridge. It was named appropriately enough, a shaft of I-beams that spanned the area between two hills on either side of the river. At almost exactly halfway across, the pavement smoked at the edges of a crater, allowing just enough room for us to squeeze past. Below, the murky water crawled.

"What happened here?" Lynette's first words since the battle site.

"Damned if I know," I said blandly. I didn't want to know. Something had exploded and now the bridge was half gone! What was left to wonder?

"I don't see any bodies," she kept peering at the rearview mirror, watching the crater retreat.

There, I conceded, she had a point. I could still taste a bit of the vomit from the last time I'd seen bodies, though. The smell of it would linger in my nostrils for hours, too. The fewer bodies, the better.

"Might have just been an accident..." Now she was just musing, talking to keep the silence at bay. I gritted my teeth and focused on driving. There had been enough dying for one day--hell, for a lifetime!--and I'd be happy to blame it all on the undead. At least I could take my anger out on them. Later.

The bridge came to an end, the sky sprung into view again--sunny with a patch of clouds--and we crested a small rise in the road. Apartment buildings rose on the left side of the street here, and a few other roads converged in an awkward intersection I paid no heed to. The lack of traffic was creeping me out.

Ahead, the condos gave way to body shops, restaurants, furniture stores and whatever else mankind had seen fit to make money with. After the towering skyscrapers of downtown, I was thankful for a break in oppressive scenery. It's easier to see an enemy when you have a line of sight on it.

Lynette twisted in her seat to look at me. "Did it look to you like they tried to blow up this bridge, too? Dawson was no accident."

I thought back to where we had made our brief acquaintance with the mercenaries. It sure hadn't looked like a battle scene. Maybe they were trying to contain the undead to one side of the river. I wondered how long that would hold out.

"We're lucky we got across!" Now she was indignant. "Those bastards almost got us--hey!" She pointed at a figure disappearing behind a building. I squinted and slowed the truck.

"Looked alive..." I muttered. And it had. None of this reanimated dead person lurching business. That had been a kid seeing us and running, possibly to go find an adult. I pulled the vehicle to a halt.

"We're stopping? It might be nothing."

I held up a hand distractedly. "He's going to get someone. Watch."

The kid never came back, but the message had been delivered. A group of men, all of them armed with scowls and weapons, emerged from the alleyway. Then, they took aim and opened fire on us. Wildly, I thought about taking cover and shooting back, but I was too busy cowering and trying to find a place in the vehicle where their bullets couldn't get to me. Lynette had somehow wriggled into the back between the gun case and the wall, which left me the entire front of the truck where there was no cover. Glass exploded all over my back. More bullets pounded into the fuselage.

And then I was shot. My gaze was just passing by my leg and I saw the blood erupt from a mini crater in my thigh. I felt wind on my forehead and then I was screaming, rolling into the space between the seats and the dashboard. Nothing existed but pain and safety glass.