DEAD RAIN: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse by Joe Augustyn

be shot by the nervous homeowner, or attacked by those… zombies. And if he survived until the police arrived, what would happen then? Between the disorienting fog and the weird events of the night, they might shoot him first and ask questions later, as the old joke went.
    This is no time to ponder old jokes.
    He turned and jogged off towards the hospital. Praying he’d survive to see the dawn.

 
     
     
    17
     
     
     
    Kerri yelped in alarm as Deputy Jurgensen grabbed her throat with both hands, choking off her cry. She saw the empty blackness in his eyes and threw her forearms up, breaking his grip, then shoved him hard in the chest. His good leg buckled and he fell to the ambulance floor.
    “Kerri! Are you alright?” Hector glanced back to check on the commotion, then quickly looked back through the windshield—and jerked the wheel sharply to avoid hitting a man who had suddenly dashed into the stre et. The ambulance jumped a curb and bounced wildly as one set of wheels dipped across the entry ramp of a drive-thru, moving too fast.
    “Hang on!” Hector yelled. He wrestled with the steering wheel, over-correcting in his panic. The boxy vehicle swung back into the street—and hit a plodding cadaver, splattering the windshield with blood. A moment later it wa s broadsided by a speeding car.
    Knocked onto its side it slid across the street into a utility pole, which toppled like a tree in a lumber camp. High voltage wires hit the ground, showering the dew-drenche d tarmac with deadly fireworks.
    Kerri tumbled through the back of the ambulance like a ragdoll, shrieking in terror as she bounced off metal utility racks and the lifeless body of Jurgensen’s attacker.
    The back doors flew open and the deputy’s flailing body flew out. Kerri slid after him but grabbed a stainless steel post and held on.
    Finally the ambulance settled, lying on its side. Steam hissed from its radiator. Its engine coughed and died and its wheels stopped spinning. Blood covered the inside and the outside of the windshield, which was cracked where Hector’s head made impact during the crash.
    Kerri raised her head and looked around. She was covered in aching bruises, but miraculously no bones were broken. Looking out the back door she saw Deputy Jurgensen rise up slowly in the mist a nd stumble away into the night.
    Clawing her way across the jumbled mess in the back of the overturned vehicle s he pulled herself into the cab.
    Hector dangled awkwardly in his seatbelt, his body nearly upside down. His legs were trapped between the seat and the dislodged steering column. He was semi-conscious, his head bleeding from a nasty gash on his temple.
    Kerri shook him gently, but there was no response. “Hector? Hey! Poppy, wake up!” She checked his vitals. His pulse was weak and uneven. She started checking him for broken bones and realized his legs were pinned under the twisted steering column. She made an attempt to free him but he reacted, waking and crying out in pain.
    “Ow! Don’t! Stop, Kerri, stop,” he pleaded. “You can’t. I’m stuck. Get help. Please, just get help.”
    Kerri tried the radio. It was dead. Muttering a frustrated curse she looked back through the open door at the rear of the vehicle and saw a chaotic spectacle unfolding outside. A fountain of sparks from the power line lit up the fog. Cars crashed to a stop in a daisy chain or veered past on screeching tires, only to crash further on. Desperate screaming voices pierced the night.
    “Hector, listen to me. I’m going to have to leave you alone for a bit. I need to go for help. The radio isn’t working.”
    “Pain.” Hector’s voice was a trembling whisper. “Please… Kerri…”
    Kerri reached into the back compartment and grabbed her medical supply bag, but froze with the bag in hand as the zombified deputy stepped back into view outside the back door. As he turned in her direction she hunkered low, shutting her eyes, keeping stil l, saying a prayer in her