She sank back down, her eyes fluttering closed. She did not move again.
'Shit. Frankie, wake up.' Jim shook her gently, afraid of hurting the unconscious woman any worse than she already was.
'Is she dead, Daddy?'
'I don't think so, squirt. Are you okay?'
Danny nodded.
'Frankie?' Jim tried again. When she didn't respond, he shook De Santos.
'Don. Don, get up!'
'Huzzat...'
'Come on. God damn it, De Santos, wake up now!'
'Five more minutes, Myrna ...'
The second zombie stepped forward and yanked the bloody hatchet from its fallen comrade's head. It was dressed in the tattered remains of a Bob Marley shirt. One ear and half its cheek had been torn away, and dreadlocks hung from its skull in filthy, matted ropes.
'Look what you did to my brother! That wasn't very nice. That wasn't nice at all.'
Don stirred.
'Jim?'
'Wake up, Don. We've gotta go!'
Jim opened the door.
'Where do you think you're going?' the zombie snarled.
Clutching his son, Jim opened the door on the side away from the zombie, and tumbled out of the Explorer onto the cold pavement. He let go of Danny, sprang to his feet, and yanked Don's door open. Don stumbled out of the vehicle.
'Jesus, my chest ...'
'Can you walk?'
'I-I think so. Just ... hard to catch ... my breath.'
The zombie slid into the backseat from the other side. A plump, white maggot fell from its nose and lay wriggling on the floor mat. Jim gagged, and Don coughed blood from his nose and mouth.
Jim put a hand on Don's shoulder to steady him.
'Are you okay?'
'My chest,' Don wheezed. 'Steering wheel hit it. Fucking airbags were worthless. I should sue the manufacturer.'
Jim turned back to the wrecked vehicle. 'We've got to get Frankie out of there and find Martin.'
The zombie crawled across the seat toward them, reaching for the open door. Jim slammed it in the creature's face.
'Danny, stay here with Mr. De Santos.'
'No, Daddy, I want to stay with you!'
'I've got to get Frankie out of there, Danny. I don't have time to argue.'
He turned to Don.
'When I tell you, open this door.'
The corpse beat at the window with its fist, leaving a greasy smudge.
Then it turned away from them.
'You want me to do what?'
'You heard me.'
Inside the Explorer, the zombie pawed through the blankets surrounding Frankie. Jim dashed around to the other side and picked up a large rock.
'Now, Don!'
'Get behind me, Danny. I think your father may have lost his mind.'
Swallowing, Don yanked the back door open. Immediately, the zombie turned and swung at him with the bloody hatchet.
Jim was quicker.
Grabbing it by the feet, he pulled it out of the backseat and onto the ground. The axe flew from its clutches and the zombie scrambled for it. Jim jumped onto its back, forcing it down again. The zombie pushed upward, struggling to dislodge him.
Enraged, Jim brought the rock crashing down on the creature's head, punctuating each blow with a snarl.
