empty. Hell, the whole city could be empty for all they knew. The sounds of the wailing sirens still blared in the distance. It was probably left on by an officer who had been hit by a fleeing civilian when the city was attacked.
“Let’s get to my Prius,” Tyler suggested. “I left my cell phone there.”
“If our phones don’t work, I doubt yours will,” Jen retorted.
“You have a point, but if anything, we can drive out of this God-forsaken city,” responded Tyler.
“I’ll help you get to your car, but I will return to the ferry. I don’t know where we will go from here.” Ji said.
“I’ll go with you, Ji. After all, I have nothing left. I grew up an orphan. Ryan was everything I had.” Jen confided. “We will walk you to your car.”
“It isn’t far. We showed up later than expected, but we managed to luck out with a good spot.” Tyler led the way across the large lot of the pier and down the block.
The white Prius sat in the small parking lot at the bottom of a tall hill. They had not only lucked out on the spot, but they had just been missed by a truck that plowed through the lot, smashing several other vehicles. Judging by the smell, the black charring on the front fenders, and the smoke still drifting out from under the hood, the truck had caught fire after its collision.
“Hop in. I’ll drive you back to the ferry,” Tyler offered. Before doing anything else, he picked up his iPhone and dialed 9-1-1. “It’s not even ringing,” he said. He thumbed through his contacts until he got to his brother’s number. “Nothing there either. I’ll keep trying a little later.”
The Prius made no sound as Tyler started the engine. He backed it out of the lot, avoiding the wreck behind him, and drove back to the pier. It wasn’t until he was on the road that he realized that the road wasn’t just clear, but it had been cleared. The cars had been pushed to the side of the street to allow traffic to flow through.
“Well, here you go,” Tyler said as he put the car into park and stepped out to see Jen and Ji off.
“Thanks. I hope you guys find yo—“ Ji was interrupted by the loud thump behind him. He started and spun around with his fist pulled back.
Inside the police cruiser, behind the blood smeared glass, was a police woman. She was pressing her hands and face into the window. One of her grey eyes locked onto Ji while the other pointed down towards her cheek. Skin hung from her face where her bottom lip once was. The sound she was making resembled deflating an air mattress.
Ji pulled out his Glock, and before anyone could stop him, he reached out and opened the door. “we can’t leave her like this?”
She flopped to the ground, stood up, and started to move toward Ji. He fired a shot into her heart, but instead of dropping to the ground she drove her thumb through his right eye and bit hard into his neck. Blood sprayed from the carotid artery and covered the woman’s already bloody face. With his last seconds of life, Ji fired three more rounds into the police woman’s heart.
Tyler pulled the Glock that Ji had given him and fired two more shots into her heart. Even after taking six shots to the chest, the woman continued towards Tyler. Unsure of whether his shots hit their target, he aimed slightly higher and fired a round into her head. The bullet went in through her cheek and exploded her skull just above her neck.
She took another step before the cerebrospinal fluid poured out onto her shoulder. Her movement slowed, and her coordination diminished, but it was when Jen grabbed the woman by her hair and slammed her head into the side of the police cruiser that her skull shattered enough for her brain to ooze out. The police woman’s pursuit ended, and Jen ran to Ji’s side.
“What the hell was he thinking?” cried Jen as she pulled Ji onto her lap. “He knew better. He has to be taken care of.”
“What?” Tyler asked.
“They come back — after death. We have to make sure he stays dead. He wouldn’t want to be one of those things. You guys need to leave.” She grabbed the Glock from Ji’s hand. “Now.”
“Good luck, Jen,” Layla said. She didn’t really care one way or the other, but she tried to sound like she did.
“Thanks. Watch each other’s backs,” Jen said and shook their hands.
Tyler and Layla turned back towards the Prius. The gunshot rang out behind them, and they knew that Ji would not walk this earth with the dead. The couple climbed into the car and Tyler backed out onto the street. Several people walked up to the car and started pounding on the windows with bloody hands. From inside the car, the gunshots sounded like firecrackers.
Jen was standing over Ji’s body, firing shots into the crowd that surrounded the Prius. The Glock clicked, prompting her to reach down and check Ji for extra rounds. After fumbling around for a moment, she was able to discharge the spent magazine and clip a loaded one into place. The crowd had already walked away from the car and moved in her direction.
“Run, Jen!” screamed Layla from the window. She watched as Jen fired a few more rounds and turned to run for the Bay Cruiser. “I don’t think there is anything we can do, Tyler. Let’s get moving.”
Tyler was surprised at how easy it was to make his way through the city. A path had been cleared that they followed all the way north and looped back around and across the Golden Gate Bridge. Tyler stopped the car halfway across the great bridge and stepped out. On one side of him was Alcatraz. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful that he was on it or not. The ocean expanded out on the other side of the bridge, and as he looked out into the vast waters he saw the Bay Cruiser. The early morning sun created the illusion that they were sailing off into an ocean of fire.
“Let’s go home,” he said to Layla. “Or at least somewhere that isn’t near that damned island.”
The arms reached through the bars in an attempt to reach the man behind them. Phillip had locked himself in there two days ago. He didn’t open it for anyone, not even Elaine. She screamed for him as they ripped her apart right in front of the cell. Their groans made him sick, and he was sure he was the only one left alive.
In the early morning of the first night he watched through his small window as the ferry pulled away from the island. He screamed until he coughed up blood, but they couldn’t hear him. Death was the last thing Phillip wanted to experience, but he was ready for it to happen. His cell was starting to stink, and he knew he was starving to death. Breathing was becoming a chore with the lack of fresh air. The dead bodies that reached in for him were beginning to decay, and with that decay came their terrible smell.
Phillip kicked his legs off of the small cot, stood up, and walked to the bars. He pulled the key from his pocket and reached out into the dead horde. They grabbed his arms and pulled, scratched, and bit as he searched for the keyhole. Clank. The cell door unlocked, and the dead slid it open before Phillip could move his arm. His arm snapped and bent in half before it was ripped off in the bars.
His screamed echoed through the halls of the cell block as the dead rushed in and tore at his body. One man grabbed his arm and shattered it at the elbow. They stomped on his body as he fell to the floor. Blood spewed from his mouth and his abdomen was flattened. Phillip was terrified by what was happening, yet he was glad the nightmare would finally end.
Linus Locke
Linus Locke is the author of Decay: Civilization. He lives in a small town in Iowa with his wife, Kortnie, and their three sons. A love of writing, along with his love for great stories, brought him to write Decay: Civilization and his first short story Rot: Island. You can learn more about Linus and his work on his website, www.linuslocke.com
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