Another Zombie Apocalypse Tale: Part 14

Day One of the Apocalypse.

Three weeks and two days ago…

Allen and I had just made it to the parking lot, leaving behind our dead coach and dead friend. Car horns blared and tires squealed as people peeled out of parking spaces; engines revved to redline in a panic to escape. I’d ridden with the team on the bus, so I wasn’t sure where my family parked. I scanned the lot for my dad’s silver Ford Explorer, spotting it at the far end of the lot.

Fear overpowered the urge to roll my eyes. The man couldn’t be bothered to park close by, or even halfway close. He would always choose the furthest parking spot, said it kept people from dinging and denting his vehicle. A matter of little importance now. We were bound to get scraped as we fled the mob.

“This way,” I called over the discord of horns and screaming. Our arms locked together, I led Allen toward the vehicle. He didn’t have family at the meet, rarely did unless it was in our hometown. His mom worked two jobs, and his only older sibling couldn’t be bothered. Now with coach gone—Shit, I couldn’t think about that right now.

“Please, please, please be here,” I said as we approached the vehicle. It was empty. I tried the handle. Locked. I pulled a couple of times in a panic, then let out a frustrated growl/scream.

“Does your dad keep a hide-a-key in the wheel well or something?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

We checked the wheel wells and the bumpers for a little magnetic box. Nothing. I let out a string of curses and turned to scan the people racing through the parking lot, some on their feet running, some in vehicles.

A red sedan backed into someone’s yellow Jeep, and they didn’t stop. Metal screeched as they continued to try shoving the larger vehicle out of the way. Both drivers yelled and honked their horns at each other.

I scanned the flurry of humans fighting to get to their vehicles, like a pack of confused ants, and I cupped my hands around my mouth and screamed, “AVA! DAD!” Hoping that they’d hear me and appear from the crowd, no longer lost to me. They didn’t appear, and my chin quivered.

“Look, there’s Mario.” Allen put a hand on my shoulder, and waved his other arm wildly in the air and screamed Mario’s name. Mario Milton was one our teams best long distance runners, new to our school this year, and I didn’t know much about him or his family. He did ride here on the bus with the team, though.

Mario’s dark head of curls jerked in our direction. His bronze skin pallid with terror and his large round eyes were even wider with panic. He fumbled through a throng of students and fell, disappearing from our sight.

Allen and I raced toward him. I heard the squeal of a vehicle, a belt demanding to be replaced, and I gabbed Allen’s arm and yanked him back as a small truck flew past us. The driver didn’t touch the breaks as they slammed into a group of students, pinning them against an SUV.

“Whatthehell? Whatthehell?” Allen repeated over and over again, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts, in tandem with my own panicked breathing. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass out or throw up.

We half walked, half stumbled over to the scene. The engine of the truck was screaming at redline. The airbag having been deployed, the driver laid unconscious with their lead foot on the gas pedal.

I clamped a hand to my mouth as I stared at a blonde girl, the top half of her body severed from being pinned between the truck and SUV. She reached out a hand, fingers clawing, as her eyes stared blankly ahead. Her mouth moved, the words lost in the noise, but I could make out the words her lips formed.

“Help. Help me.”

All I could think was, “Ms. Aiden’s CPR and First Aid class did not prepare us for this.”

I began to walk toward the poor blonde girl. God, she couldn’t be much older than my sister. Probably came to cheer on her sibling. She wasn’t dressed to be in the competition herself.

“Camille!” My sister’s voice pulled me away from the gruesome sight and I spun around, searching for her.

“There!” Allen took my hand and pulled me along with him to where I could see Ava’s head bobbing amongst a few others. My dad was not with her. She and I collided in a hug.

“Where’s dad?” Tears ran into my mouth as I spoke.

Allen kept himself planted beside us, his hand on my shoulder so I knew he was there. A few bodies jostled past us, and I kept a firm hold on my sister’s arms.

“They got him.” Ava’s eyes were wide behind askew glasses. Her mascara and eye liner was smeared and leaving dark, glittery streaks as tears slid down her face. “They got him.”

“Who?” I asked stupidly. Who else would gotten him besides the homicidal mob?

“They got him,” she repeated, as if not hearing me.

More people bumped into us, knocking Allen’s hand loose from my shoulder. He immediately put his hand back, but his grip was tight. Too tight.

“Ouch, Allen!” I jerked back and turned, staring into a bloodied, unfamiliar face with glazed over eyes. Crooked teeth clacked as they lowered their mouth toward me.

Ava let out a scream and latched onto me, yanking me free from the bloodied person. We both stumbled. We both fell. The person landed on top of Ava, grabbing for her head. I knew what would happen. I watched my coach die this way. A whimper escaped me, but I pivoted on my hip. The bone grinding into the pavement, and I kicked the person in the head. Hard. Hard enough to hear a bone crack. They tumbled from my sister. She and I scrambled to our feet.

We gripped each others hands and raced toward to other side of the parking lot, over to Dad’s Ford Explorer. A useless endeavor, unless…

“Do you have the keys?” I heaved a breath. The air tasted like burnt rubber and oil.

Ava adjusted her glasses then stared back across the lot, where the sedan with the halved girl was, the engine smoking. Screams echoed.

“Ava!” I smacked her arm. “Do you have the keys?” My voice broke as I caught sight of Allen, fighting to get through a swarm of people.

He wasn’t headed in our direction. I screamed his name, but I don’t think he heard me. I screamed again, and one of the mob people looked over at me. Her hair was matted, and blood stained her mouth and hands. She broke off from the group and limped toward us.