Free Fall by Peter Cawdron

Author:Peter Cawdron [Cawdron, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 02: Run

“Houston?” Jackson mumbles into the microphone on his helmet even though he’s disconnected from the comms unit. No one can hear him. No one ever could.

The zombies immediately below the capsule tear at each other, clambering to reach him and pull him into the horde. Their hands grab at the shattered frame of the bus and slap at the bottom of the heat shield on the Odyssey.

He’s surrounded by a sea of arms grasping at the air, pressing to get closer. There’s nowhere to run to. No escape.

Mindless groans fill the air along with snarling. Teeth snap at the breeze. Jackson starts to back into the capsule, but there’s nothing there for him. There’s no hiding from these monsters. To retreat is to wait to be overrun. Already, several zombies have climbed on top of the bus. They’re on the far side of the Odyssey, but not for long.

A dark shadow blocks the setting sun.

The last of the three massive parachutes that slowed his descent drifts slowly to the ground, landing some thirty feet away and blanketing the zombies to his right. Jackson realizes this is his only chance. He slings the survival pack over his shoulder and runs down the length of the bus. The edge of the parachute flutters as it drapes over hundreds of zombies tearing at the fabric. There’s still a mass of zombies between him and the collapsed canopy, but he doesn’t hesitate.

Jackson doesn’t slow his pace. He thunders along the roof of the bus with his boots slamming on the thin sheet metal. Bloody hands reach up on all sides, beckoning to him. A ghostly wail calls out as the sunlight fades.

He launches himself off the roof of the bus, still pumping his legs, and lands heavily on the shoulder of a rabid zombie.

Jackson falls face first into the horde, sinking into the sea of undead animated corpses.

Hands grab at him, tearing at his clothes. Teeth bite into his day-glow orange flight suit, but no sooner has he hit the concrete than he’s up again, pushing through the press of zombies.

“Goddamn it,” he yells, reaching with his arms and pushing zombies aside as he wrenches himself free and runs through the crowd.

He reaches the parachute and launches himself up and on top of the thick material, scrambling on his hands and knees over the undulating mass of zombies trapped beneath the parachute. He tries to run but it’s impossible, and he finds himself peg-legging through the horde as though he was running through waist deep snow. Several zombies follow him, but they can’t make headway, snarling and growling as they flop around on the vast parachute.

Jackson is breathing hard, pushing off of trapped zombies with his gloved hands. He lifts his knees high as he runs, trying to get on top of the swell. It feels as though he’s sprinting up a steep mountain. His heart is going to explode, but he forces himself on.

The zombies thin out and Jackson finds he can pick his way through the last of them as he bounds over the parachute.

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