As the World Dies: Untold Tales Volume 1

As they walked along toward the accident site, he felt a pang of remorse and guilt that he had not somehow rescued Brandy. It was hard for him to know she had died so close to the bed and breakfast as he had obliviously gone about his life. He tried hard to console himself with the fact he had released her from her undead state and she was at peace, but it was hard when he saw the crashed vehicle and the broken window covered in dried blood.



At least he knew what had happened to her. Chances were, he would never know what had happened to his family.



Pepe began to tug harder on his leash as they neared the curve and Eric hurried to catch up with the little dog. Pepe suddenly began to bark loudly and fiercely and Eric immediately pulled out the revolver and flicked the safety off.



As they ran past the tree line and the field across from the town came into view, Eric felt his throat constrict.



Running across the field was two men and one woman. They were shouting at each other to run faster and began to call out to Eric when they saw him. They were quite a distance away and he could barely make out their expressions of terror.



Behind them was a large crowd of the dead. The less mutilated ones were fast on their feet, rushing after the living, while the brutally mauled ones staggered and stumbled behind.



Eric could barely breathe and he raised his binoculars to the spot he was so used to looking at. The community center swam into view. The dead were pouring out of an open window and a few were clustered over fresh bodies shoving bits of flesh into their mouths.



He dropped his binoculars and they painfully banged against his chest.



"Oh, shit," he said as the enormity of what was happening hit him.



With Pepe snarling and barking at his heels, he ran up the hill.



Chapter Fourteen



Racing Death



Eric ran up past the edge of the tree line and into the shade of the leafy boughs hanging over the drive. He could hear the moans and howls of the undead and the shouts of the living behind him.



"Help," he heard the woman's voice screaming in the distance.



He hesitated and Pepe pulled hard on the leash. Eric felt tears well in his eyes and turned to look back down the road. His first impulse had been to run, but those people were alive and he could help them.



But what if they had been bit?



He hesitantly began to walk back toward the open field, but Pepe pulled hard on the leash and barked at him. He stopped abruptly and took a deep breath.



Pepe was right. He had to survive. Eric's hand tightened on the revolver and turned to run back to the safety of the bed and breakfast.



"Help," the woman shouted again.



This time her voice was much closer. Eric turned back in surprise. She sprinted onto the road at an amazing speed. Dressed in athletic shorts and a tank top with the world "coach" written on it, she was petite and muscular with deeply tanned skin and pale blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.



"Please," she called out with a ragged gasp. "Help!"



Despite Pepe's snarls and persistent tugging on the leash, Eric stood and waited for her.



"Hurry," he yelled at her.



"Coop and Sean are right behind me," she called out. "Just run!"



"Right!"



Eric bolted up the road as fast as he could, wishing he had worn something other than loafers. He was not as fit as the woman racing up the road behind him was and he struggled to find a rhythm in his out of shape gait. Frantically, he tried to regulate his breath and find a fast, steady pace. He was just finding a steady beat to his breathing and his speed when, to his surprise, the young woman caught up with him. Her breath was not nearly as ragged as his was already becoming.



"Do you have shelter? A place for us to go? Is the farmhouse ok?"



"Yeah," Eric huffed. "Yeah. That's where I've been."



"Keep running," a voice called out behind them.



Eric glanced back long enough to see an older man, also incredibly fit and in a coach's uniform, and younger man clad in jeans and a T-shirt, coming up over the embankment and onto the road far behind them. The girl ran faster than he did and she took the lead with her short ponytail bouncing behind her and her toned arms pumping hard.



Eric struggled to keep moving at a quick pace despite the burning in his calves and his breath coming short and hard into his lungs. Walking up the hill had been moderate exercise the last few days, but running was a whole other story.



The young woman hesitated in her steps to look back and once more the man's voice rang out, "Keep running."



Eric looked back again to see both men gaining on him. But so were the fast, blood covered creatures behind the men. He had a vague impression of football uniforms and what was maybe army fatigues under all the blood and gore. Crap! The zombies hadn't done much damage to what appeared to be the more physically fit people in the community center. Terrified by what he saw, Eric ran harder and tried to gain speed. Pepe scampered ahead of him, almost to the end of his leash, his nails clicking against the asphalt.



"The door is open," Eric choked out to the girl running in front of him. He realized with her quick pace she would get there first. He was beginning to doubt he would make it with his body feeling like it was about to explode.



The girl looked back at him, nodded and sprinted across the gardens toward the safety of the bed and breakfast. Eric followed in her wake the best he could, but he was now breathless and struggling to keep his exhausted limbs moving. The blond woman reached the porch, jumped over the steps to land firmly on it, ran across the whitewashed wood effortlessly and shoved the front door open.



Following in her footsteps, Eric leaped onto the end of the porch and felt his legs quiver. They almost buckled under him, but he forced himself to keep moving.



"Get in! Get in!"



Again the older man's voice shouted out from behind him. It sounded much closer now: as did the growls and howls of the dead. Eric's feet pounded across the wood porch as Pepe strained at the end of his leash to get into the house. Eric caught the edge of the doorway with his hand and hurled his body inside. The girl was standing in the shadows of the foyer with her hand on the door, ready to shove it shut. Pepe whipped around and began to bark frantically at the open door.



Eric barely managed not to collapse, gasping for breath. He heard footfalls on the porch and the girl tensed.



"We're almost there," another man's voice shouted. "Keep it open!"



Eric stared at the doorway in terror as he listened to the sound of more feet leaping onto the porch. The two men suddenly filled the doorway and jostled each other getting into the house. Once they both cleared the doorway, the girl shoved the door to close it. It was stopped on the ghastly, bloody stump of an arm that was shoved into the doorway just before it slammed shut.



"No!" Her voice was raw with terror.



The older man immediately turned and shoved his shoulder hard into the door, bracing his feet to keep it from opening. More hands, some missing fingers, all covered in blood, shoved into the gap trying to reach the living people within the house. The second man, his shirt splattered in blood, also braced his shoulder against the door as it vibrated under the pounding onslaught of the zombies. Eric lurched forward and placed his hands on the wood and pushed as hard as he could. Just beyond the barrier of wood and leaded glass, the dead moaned with desperation and Eric could feel the door beginning to move inward.



"Push harder," the older man ordered.



"Coop," the girl sobbed in terror. "They're coming in!"



Pepe darted up the stairs, his leash dragging behind him and Eric felt a moment of panic for his little companion. The dog stopped at the first landing and barked down at Eric.



Straining to lock his legs in place and shove the door shut, Eric looked up at Pepe feeling overwhelmed with the futility of it all. Pepe barked one more time, looked at the slowly opening door, then raced up the stairs.



"It's still opening," Sean, the younger man, exclaimed, his dark eyes flashing with fear.



"I got an ATV out back with a trailer hitched to it. We can escape on that," Eric blurted out.



The door pushed in another inch as more dead reached the house and joined their brethren in assaulting the door.



"Go, Stacey," Coop ordered.



"Dad!"



"Go! Go with him!"



Eric let out a gasp as he felt the door sliding inward a few inches. "The back door opens up to face the road. They'll see us. But the fire escape slide upstairs will put us on the other side of the house away from them!"



"Stacey, go," Sean yelled at her. "We'll hold the door!"



The woman looked at him with a terrible expression that broke Eric's heart.



"Dad, Sean…"



"Go!" The older man groaned as more hands shoved into the house past the end of the door. "Go! Sean and I will follow."



Stacey looked at Coop and Sean with tears in her eyes. She kissed the older man's cheek and grabbed Eric's hand.



"Let's go!"



Her slick, clammy fingers in his, Eric bolted up the stairs, pulling her along behind him.



"Brace it, brace it," Coop's voice ordered and Eric heard the door scrape open a little further.