Monster Nation(48)

Clark raised his weapon again, sighted. Kristi, the waitress... the infected person in the front lifted one hand toward him and she stumbled, going down to her knees in the muddy water.

'We're a go, sir,' Horrocks bellowed, not ten feet away. 'Firing on your order.' The sergeant knew better than to question Clark's hesitation in shooting but Clark could feel it, a hot, hard stare boring into his back. If he didn't shoot now he could never ask the men and women of the platoon to follow his orders. If he didn't fire he would be in direct contradiction of the AG's standing instruction to shoot on sight.

He lined up the end of his firearm with the woman's forehead. She was no more than fifteen yards away. She was somebody's daughter, somebody's sister maybe. There were people who loved her and wanted her to recover from this.

'FIGMO,' Clark said. Language unbecoming of the officer's corps, something he hadn't said since his time in Vietnam.

Fuck it, got my orders.

'Fire at will,' he said. He squeezed the trigger and the flesh of the woman's forehead erupted, fragments of bone exploding from her temple. To Clark's left the marksmen opened up with a sustained volley, the noise rolling around the front range of the mountains, it sounded like to Clark, and echoing on forever.

The President has been moved to a safe location, where he will remain until this is all over. Thank you, that's all. [White House Press Briefing, 4/4/05]

She heard gravel squealing under Charles's sneakers, knew he was racing to help her. She started to turn around, to tell him to stop. She didn't need his help'the dead man wouldn't attack her, not one of his own kind.

She knew she wouldn't get the warning out in time.

Charles spun in the gravel beside Nilla even as she reached to push him back. He had his arms twisted around for a nasty punch right to the dead man's genitals. It connected with a sound like a side of beef being dropped from a height.

The armless dead man didn't even flinch. Instead he put one bare foot up on the side of the truck and propelled himself into space. Nilla dodged to one side but he wasn't aiming for her.

'Get him off, get this f*cker off me!' Charles wailed as the dead man collided with him, knocking him flat to the road. Nilla grabbed at the dead man's matted hair to yank his head back and keep him from getting his teeth into Charles' neck. 'Get him off!' Charles screamed again, but Nilla couldn't hold the dead man, his hair was too greasy and even when she dug her fingers in it just came out with a noise like a zipper opening up. 'Get him off!' Charles begged as the teeth sank deep into the fleshy part of his throat. Blood spilled out onto the roadway like a bucket of water being upturned.

Nilla kicked the dead man as hard as she could in the cheek, in the ear, in the eye. She fell down to her knees and pulled with both hands on his vest, on the nubs of bone at the ends of his shoulders. 'You don't want him,' she protested, trying to haul him off of Charles bodily. 'You want me,' but she knew it wasn't true.

'Get him off,' Charles sobbed. 'Get' him' off, please.'

Nilla got her shoulder into the narrow gap between the dead man's chest and Charles' back and heaved, pushed and pushed, tried to brace her feet against the asphalt for leverage. The armless corpse shifted but not enough'his teeth were chewing at Charles' skin, digging in deep. Nilla grunted and heaved one last time with all her strength and somehow dislodged the ghoul. She wasted no time yanking Charles up to his feet. With her shoulder in his armpit she hurried him back toward the Toyota. Behind them the corpse staggered up to its knees.

'Just a little further,' Nilla told Charles, her arms around his waist. He clamped both hands against his throat. His legs shook violently and she dragged him for a second until he could get under his own power again. 'Just get to the car,' she told him. They were barely moving forward, inching along, Nilla's slight frame no good at carrying Charles' weight.

The dead man got one foot up and started rising, only to lose his balance and tumble backwards. Nilla's mind surged with hope. Just a little further. Just a little'

Charles' hand fell away from his neck and a pencil-thin jet of blood shot out ahead of him. He wheezed and choked and Nilla shoved one of her own hands against his wound. Her hand was soaked with blood instantly. It started to run down her forearm, into her shirt sleeve.

The corpse rolled back against the pickup truck and levered himself upward on its bumper. This time he ended up on his feet. He began staggering toward them. They had a head start but the dead man stumbled forward faster than Nilla's dragging pace.