Undead by John Russo

happen,” Ben said. “I mean, I didn’t know if the gas station was going to explode…or fly to pieces…or what’s gonna happen. I just started driving down the road, trying to get far away in case there was an explosion…and the guy in the truck is screaming and screaming…and after a while he just stops.”
    He set down the table, and wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead. His breathing was still heavy from the previous exertion. He wiped his hand on his shirt. His eyes were wide and angry with the remembrance of the events he was describing for Barbara, and it almost seemed as though he might weep.
    “And there those things were…standing back…across the road…standing looking like…looking like…like they just came back from the grave or something. And they were over by the diner, and there was cars and buses in the diner lot, with lots of windows smashed. And I knew those things must’ve finished off all the people in the diner, and more were outside, all over the place just biding their time for a chance to move in. So I went barreling right across the road in my truck—and I drove it right at some of those things—and I got a good look at them, I saw them for the first time in my lights—and then…I just run right down on them—and I grind down as hard as I can—and I knock a couple of them about fifty feet, flailin’ into the air. And I just wanted to crush them—smash them filthy things. And they’re just standing there. They don’t bother to run. They don’t even bother to get out of the road. Some of them keep reaching out, as if they could grab me. But they’re just standing there…and the truck is running them down…as if…as if they were a bunch of bugs…”
    Seeing the fear in Barbara’s eyes, Ben stopped himself. She was wide-eyed, staring in disgust, her hands still resting on the table top.
    He refocused his attention on the table top, and started to lift it again. Barbara was practically motionless. As he tugged on the table, her hands fell away and she slowly pulled them against herself. He dragged the table, unassisted, toward the window he intended to board up with it.
    He looked at Barbara. She stared back, practically expressionless.
    “I’m just…I…I got kids,” Ben said rubbing his perspiring forehead with his sleeve. “And…I guess they’ll do all right. They can take care of themselves…but they’re still only kids…and I’m being away and all…and…”
    His voice trailed off, as he had gotten no response from Barbara and didn’t know what to say next. He tugged at the table, and allowed it to lean against the wall.
    “I’m just gonna do what I can,” he said, making an effort to sound positive. “I’m going to do what I can, and I’m gonna get back…and I’m gonna see my people. And things are gonna be all right…and…I’m gonna get back.”
    His talk had begun to repeat itself, and he realized he had started to babble, and he saw the girl intently watching him, and he stopped. He composed himself with some effort, and started to speak a little more slowly. His voice became almost a monotone, with enforced calm, but beneath his anger and his fear he was a brave man, and he was bound and determined not to lose his confidence. He knew the girl was in need of bolstering, if she was going to be able to cope with the situation. Like it or not, his survival was to some measure dependent on hers, and on how well he could get her to cooperate and overcome her fear.
    “Now, you and me are gonna be all right, too,” he told her. “We can hold those things off. I mean…you can just…smash them. All you have to do is just keep your head and don’t be too afraid. We can move faster than they can, and they’re awfully weak compared to a grown man…and if you don’t run and just keep swinging at them…you can smash them. We’re smarter than they are. And we’re stronger than they are. We’re gonna stop them. Okay?”
    The girl