'You guys hit?' he asked.
'No, we're not hurt,' Jim told him and then turned to Danny. 'It's going to be okay. Just hang in there.'
'I'm scared, Daddy. I want to go home! I want Mommy!'
'I know, squirt. I know ...'
Don squealed out into the road and the smoke grew thinner. He ran over another zombie. A satisfied thrill shot through him as he felt the crunch beneath his tires.
'You keep doing that and this thing won't make it much further,' Martin said.
Ignoring him, Don spun the wheel and aimed at another figure lurching out of the smoke.
'Stop,' Jim shouted. 'That's Frankie!'
She limped across the yard, her clothing soaked with blood and her head drooping. Weakly, she raised her hands to signal them. A horde of the creatures pursued her.
'Shit!' Don slammed the brakes. The Explorer fishtailed, ramming into the abandoned Humvee. Jim's head cracked against the side window.
Martin rolled down the window and took aim. His hands were shaking.
'Frankie, get down!'
She collapsed, flattening herself out on the grass.
'Lord, guide my hand.'
Martin squeezed the trigger and dispatched the lead zombie. He fired again at the remains of a German shepherd, but the shot passed through its breast. Don put the Explorer in park and rolled down the driver's side window. He crawled halfway out and began firing over the hood. The Colt .45's thunderous roar drowned out Martin's smaller pistol.
Jim glanced around. Zombies were converging on them from every direction.
'They're almost on top of us!'
Frankie crawled toward them. Blood streamed down her dirty face. Martin flung open the door and ran toward her.
'Martin,' Jim yelled, 'what are you doing?'
Don ducked back inside. 'I can't get a clear shot. The old man's in the way.'
Martin took two steps and fired, three more steps and fired again, steadily closing the distance between himself and the injured woman.
'What the hell are you doing, preacher-man?' Frankie gasped. 'Get back in that ride before they get you too.'
'I don't think so,' Martin said. 'You rescued me in Hellertown so now I'm repaying the favor.'
Don drove up over the curb and across the yard toward them. The wind picked up, blowing the smoke away from the street. Orange flames licked across the roof of his home. Anger and sadness welled up inside him and he fought for control.
Goodbye, My ma, he thought. I love you and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry ...
Grunting with effort, Martin dragged Frankie to her feet. Supporting her with one arm, he sighted on the dog again and squeezed the trigger. The pistol clicked empty.
'What now?' Frankie grunted.
'We've still got this.' He pulled out the knife as he dragged her across the grass. Frankie ground her teeth as Martin accidentally brushed against her head wound with his thigh.
Don whipped toward them, but so did the dog. The dog was quicker. Its jaws snapped shut on Frankie's wounded leg. Shrieking, she beat at its head.
The others watched in horror, and Don was reminded of Rocky.
Martin stabbed with the knife. The blade lodged in the dog's skull, right between the ears. Grunting, he tried to free it, but the knife would not budge.
'Get it off me!' Frankie moaned.
'The blade is stuck in its skull.'
A bullet plowed into the dirt by his feet. Clenching his false teeth together, Martin tugged at the handle again. The knife stayed put.
'H-hurts ...' Frankie panted. 'Forget about the knife!'
'Come on.'
Martin dragged her toward the Explorer. The dog's corpse trailed along behind them, jaws clamped tight on Frankie's leg, even in death.
Don fired again, and the pursuing zombies drew back, seeking cover. More of the creatures emerged from the other houses.
Jim's hand slid to the door handle. 'Danny, stay here.'
Danny reached out and grabbed his arm.
