by Edward Crae
“God damn,” she mumbled.
Suddenly, a shotgun blast shattered the windshield, splattering Toni’s face with glass. She shielded her eyes and turned away, looking back up just in time to see a stalker take down the shooter from the front of the car. She screamed as the creature’s tentacles swirled around it as it devoured the attacker. But what she saw when she turned her head stopped her heart.
Travis groaned, gasping for breath as his eyes bulged in pain. The front of his shirt was drenched in blood, and his body was slumped over, his head bobbing as he tried to breathe.
“Travis!” she shouted.
She reached over, grabbing him and pulling him to her tightly. He had been shot, but it was her heart that was breaking. She squeezed him tighter and tighter, the tears rolling from her eyes stronger than they had ever done.
“No no no no,” she cried. “No baby.”
Outside, the dead were beginning to gather around the vehicle. The stalker mounted the hood, slamming what was left of the windshield with its tentacles. It was over, she knew. It was done.
“No, daddy,” she cried again, resting her lips on Travis’ gray hair.
Through her sobs, she barely noticed that Travis had stopped breathing. There was nothing she could do. He was gone. Toni cried out at the top of her lungs, drawing her revolvers and blasting the stalker as it battered the car.
Glass flew everywhere. The screams of the infected were overwhelming. They were hungry, and she would be their dinner. Travis was gone. She was alone. There was no other ending for her.
“Fuck that,” she growled.
She pushed Travis’ body over to the driver’s side door, wedging herself against him as she kicked out at her own door with her boots. The passenger door creaked, but shot open, the hinges busting with the impact. The dead were there waiting for her. She blasted them in the head, splatting their brains everywhere as she roared like a lion.
When the door was clear, she slid out, heading toward the slope. But then something impacted her back, throwing her forward into a heavy faceplant. With a mouthful of mud, she rolled over, blasting the stalker right in the face. It fell back lifeless, replaced by the small horde of corpses that had made their around the wrecked car. She scooted backward as she blasted them, trying to regain her footing.
She managed to get to her feet, realizing that her ankle was twisted. She ignored the pain, sprinting as fast as she could up the slope toward the road. There was no way the infected could get up there, she knew. All she had to do was make it.
She grabbed onto a sapling as she felt claws swipe close to her neck. She slipped, slamming her knee on a rock, but managing to get back on her feet again. Breathless and on the edge of passing out, she finally reached the top. She fell down onto her ass, scooting the rest of the way up. The infected were helpless to get her, but they growled and hissed as they attempted to reach her, sliding back down repeatedly.
There, Toni cried. She watched helplessly as the infected dragged Travis’ body out of the car and carried it into the darkness. The sound of the ripping and tearing of the man’s body brought her tears on even stronger. She had lost him.
With a final sob, and a scream of anguish, she finally stood. Before stepping onto the road, she looked back one more time, her eyes barely able to open.
“Goodbye, daddy,” she whispered.
Chapter Twelve
“Get in the RV!” Eric shouted.
A large group of infected came rushing at the three of them as soon as they saw them. Dan grabbed Toby, pushing him back and toward the side door where Eric was waiting. Dan stayed behind, chopping and slashing at the shufflers and shamblers as they crowded around the barricade. He wanted to kill as many as possible before getting in the RV, as their only route of escape was straight ahead.
And who knows where Enoch’s men were at this point.
“Dan!” Eric shouted again. “Let’s go!”
Dan chopped at one last shambler before backing up. He jumped into the RV, readying his rifle to fire out the window. Toby was right beside him, locking in his BX-25 mag and pulling back the bolt lever.
“We can’t get through that shit,” Dan said, seeing the driveway ahead crowded with the bodies of the infected, interspersed with gore-covered assholes.
“We’re not going that way,” Eric said, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting up the RV.
Dan turned and looked at him. “What the—“
Eric floored it, rolling over the edge of the parking area and into the woods. The RV bounced and wobbled like crazy as they went down the rough slope. Dan jumped up, rushing to Eric’s side.
“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked. “This thing can’t make it through the fuckin’ woods. Are you nuts?”
“I saw a creek down here when I was hunting that first night,” Eric said. “It’s flat and wide. We’ll fit.”
Dan looked ahead of their path. The headlights cut through the shadows, showing him the widely-spaced trees, and the brush that grew thick. Eric was crazy. There was no way they were getting through this.
“Fuck,” he said, going to the back window.
Toby was there, firing at the infected he saw in the red glow of the tail lights. He was hitting everything he aimed at, but the tiny little rounds weren’t doing much damage. Dan opened one of the overhead compartments, pulling out an AR that was stashed there.
“Here,” he said, handing Toby the rifle. “Use this.”
There was a sudden heavy impact on the roof, and the RV went wild, wobbling from side to side as Eric struggled to keep it upright.
“What the fuck was that?” he shouted.
A long and sharp spike forced its way through the thin metal roof, striking the cabinets right beside Dan’s head.
“Shit!” he said. “Stomp the brakes!”
Eric stomped the brakes, and there was another impact as whatever was on the roof was thrown off balance. The spike was still there, however, and was pulled back and thrust through again, barely missing Dan’s head by mere centimeters.
Toby stumbled in from the back, firing a few rounds into the roof. There was a muffled scream, and blood poured through the holes. Toby had hit it.
“Good shot,” Dan said, raising his Blackout.
He too fired upward, shredding the RV’s roof and tearing into the creature’s flesh.
“What is it?” Eric asked as he punched the gas again.
There was another flop, and then another spike came through next to the first one. Dan fired upward again, but the spikes split into claws and curled against the metal roof, pulling it apart and tearing a gaping hole.
“What the fuck!?” Dan said, backing away.
Eric hit a stump, sending everyone flying. Dan’s head impacted a sharp corner of the cabinets, splitting the flesh. He was knocked senseless, falling to the floor, pressing his hand against the flow of blood that poured out of his wound.
“Dan!” he heard Toby shout.
He tried desperately to keep his eyes open, but the wound had sapped his strength. He puked up a jet of bile that splattered on the floor in front of his face. Then, everything faded to black.
“Toni!” Max shouted as he saw her climb up from the gully.
Toni ran toward them quickly, her revolvers still smoking. She was crying, Max noticed, and her sobs overtook her ability to speak.
“What happened to you?” Max asked. “Where’s Travis?”
Toni embraced him, still crying hard. Linda tore her away, holding her head and staring her right in the face.
“Toni,” Linda said firmly. “Where’s Travis?”
“He-he didn’t make it,” Toni cried.
Max’s heart sank. He could barely believe what Toni had just said. Did he hear her correctly?
“He didn’t make it?” Linda echoed her, embracing her but beginning to run again. “We have to get out of here. Take my hand.”
Toni took Linda’s hand, and Max took Toni’s. Linda led the way, hea
ding for the state road, dragging Toni between them. Around them, gunshots and the howls of the infected were deafening. Max was in a trance, though, focusing on Travis. Travis was dead. Travis… was dead.
“What the fuck?” Max mumbled, his own eyes tearing up.
He had never lost anyone so close. It was a new thing for him. He didn’t like it. It didn’t make sense. He would never see Travis again. Travis was… shambler food.
“Goddamn it,” he cried out.
A flash of white streaked across his vision, impacting Linda and taking her down screaming. Toni and Max were dragged down with her, and they were both pulled along, skidding in the rocks as Toni tried to let go of Linda’s hand. Through the moonlight, Max could see a stalker’s face, its fangs clamped down on Linda’s neck.
“Jesus Christ!” he shouted. “Let go!”
Max raised his AR, firing a burst of rounds into the creature’s flank. It didn’t let go, but Linda did. As Max and Toni fell to the ground, the stalker dragged Linda’s body away.
“Oh my God,” Toni cried. “Max…”
Max was frozen in shock, having just lost Travis, and now Linda. He could hear the creature’s fangs ripping her apart in the darkness, and could feel the bile rising in his throat.
But he wouldn’t give up.
“Get up!” he barked, pulling Toni to her feet. “Run!”
He took the lead, dragging Toni behind him. He pointed his rifle in their wake, firing random bursts at the road behind him. Evidently, the creature was satisfied. Nothing followed them. Behind him, Toni was weeping as they ran. One revolver hung limply in her hand, and her eyes were wide with terror. She was freaking out.
“No shit,” Max said. “Come on, let’s go.”
With renewed confidence and determination, Max took the initiative. He would keep Toni safe. He would find the others. He would bring them all together.
Or, he would die trying.
Enoch searched the chaos around him for any sign of Dan’s group. They had done a good job of staying out of sight, and Enoch cursed himself for attempting to use the horde to his advantage. He no longer had any sense of where his own men were, either, and that was a problem. All he could do was hope that he would run across Dan or Drew, or anyone else, even, and use them to lure out the rest.
He stopped and stood against a tree, trying to make some sense of the scene around him. He had lost track of Royce, Darin, and the others in his inner circle. He wanted to kill Royce, and now he was gone. He cursed himself under his breath for not killing him earlier when he had the chance.
Thankfully, out of the shadows, Dr. Shake appeared. He was dressed in a gore-covered apron; obviously his surgical clothing. He recognized Enoch immediately and made his over, weaving in and out of the infected that wandered around the area.
“Boss,” Shake said. “I can’t find any of them. The infected are too thick and there isn’t anyone left at the house.”
“Mutha fuckas,” Enoch said. “Have you seen Royce or anyone else?”
“I saw Darin earlier,” Shake replied. “But he got taken down by one of the four-legged mutants. I barely got away.”
Enoch gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “We gotta flush them out,” he said. “They may be hiding in the house.”
“The doors are locked. I was already there. Besides, the RV is gone now and I saw another car drive away. It looked like it crashed, though.”
“Yeah,” Enoch said. “I saw that. Which way did the RV go?”
“Into the woods,” Shake said. “Right into the mother fucking woods.”
“Alright,” Enoch said. “We need to regroup.”
There was a sudden wooshing noise, followed by a squish. Dr. Shake’s head popped off of his body, and two jets of blood shot up from the stump of his neck. Enoch backed away in horror as Shake’s body fell to its knees and toppled forward. Behind him was a nightmare.
Enoch’s eyes traveled up the pale, white body that stood taller than any man he had ever seen. Four tentacles with long spikes at the end swirled around it. Enoch fell back against the tree, looking up toward the thing’s face. Two eyes, glowing the color of amber stared back down at him.
Instinctively, he raised his pistol and fired several shots. The creature raised its arms to block them, and Enoch turned and fled into the passing horde. He weaved in and out of them, barely escaping their reach. He could hear those tentacles going to work, picking off the infected one by one. Whatever the creature was, it didn’t like the infected, either.
He wasn’t about to stick around to find out why.
Jake and Drew rushed through the brush with several shamblers on their trail. They were both winded, but had plenty of fight left in them. Drew would stop occasionally and blast the closest shambler with his Glock, and then turn back to flee once more. He had taken down at least six this way, but there were still several more following.
“Shit,” Jake cursed as they came to a steep bank that blocked their way. “We gotta go around.”
He turned and blasted a shambler with his shotgun, blowing its chest open and sending it back to crash into the others. Drew emptied his Glock into the small group, cursing when the tell-tale click told him he was out of ammo.
He had no more mags, either.
“Goddamn it,” he said. “I’m out.”
“I’m getting there,” Jake said, peering into the shadows. “But I think the baddies are all dead. We should try and circle around and rejoin the group. I saw the RV bouncing around in the woods. They probably need our help.”
Just then, a white shape zoomed past Drew, knocking him down with its claws. He cried out in pain, and Jake pumped a few shotgun shells into the creature, rushing over to stomp its brains into the mud. He reached down and pulled Drew to his feet, his heart nearly stopping when he saw the torn flesh on Drew’s shoulder.
“Fuck, dude,” Jake said.
“Goddamn it!” Drew growled. “Fuck shit fuck.”
Jake looked at the wound closely, seeing its edges bubbling and squirming, as if it were alive. He felt a sense of shock come over him, and he gulped hard.
“How bad is it?” Drew asked, crouching down to rest his hands on his knees.
“It’s bad,” Jake said. “It’s infected.”
“Mother fuckers,” Drew said under his breath. “Goddamn mother fuckers.”
Jake knew it was over for Drew. He would turn. That wound was already festering with the mutant virus, and it wouldn’t be long before Drew’s body would die and he would rise again to seek out a place to mutate. It was heartbreaking; probably more so than anything he had ever witnessed. Drew was his friend, and together with Dan, the three of them had been the Three Amigos of Death.
His hand instinctively went to his handgun, and he pulled it out and cocked the hammer back. Drew looked up at him, his eyes red with tears, and his teeth gritted tightly in anger.
“No,” Drew said. “Not this way.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jake asked.
“Do you have any grenades left?”
He did.
Jake reached into his pack, pulling out the last frag grenade he had left. Hesitantly, he handed it to Drew. “What are you gonna do?” he asked.
“Enoch is out there somewhere,” Drew said, his voice obviously pained. “He wants me. I’m taking him with me.”
Jake nodded. It seemed like a logical plan. That would take care of the problem. “Alright, man,” he whispered.
He held out his fist. Drew looked him in the eye, mustering up his courage. They bumped fists one last time, knowing it was the end. Jake panicked on the inside, not sure how he would tell the others.
“See you on the other side, brutha,” he said.
“Stay safe,” Drew replied.
Jake was frozen in shock as Drew turned and headed into the darkness again. He felt a lump rising in his throat, and it tightened to the point of nearly chocking him. This had been the worst day ever, he realized, but at least if Drew succee
ded, they would no longer have to worry about Enoch.
The only question was, would Jake be able to find the others?
Toby dropped his empty mag and slapped in another, firing desperately to try to keep the creature from reaching Dan. The RV bounced like crazy as Eric floored it down the hill. Toby had a hard time keeping upright, but managed to get in a few good shots. The creature on the roof was furious, and it was losing strength.
But still it came.
One shot hit the creature square in its horrifying face, and Toby took the opportunity to grab Dan’s hand and drag him into the back. As he pulled, Toby could see the long spikes jam their way into the RV again, striking the floor and cabinets.
“Eric,” Toby shouted. “Stomp the brakes again!”
The RV lurched as Eric pounded the brake pedal. Toby used the momentum to skid forward on his heels, following the creature as it was flipped over toward the front. Toby reached the cab just as Eric floored it again, hearing the creature flop heavily on the roof once more. He aimed upward, judging the creature’s location by the sound of its growls and thumps. He reached up with his thumb and flicked the selector lever to full auto.
And then, he let loose.
The bullets tore through the roof, striking the creature like a deadly hailstorm. Blood splattered into the holes, and the cries of agony that followed told Toby that the creature had taken nearly every round. He could hear it bouncing its way toward the back of the RV. Toby followed, dropping the empty mag and slapping in another one.
There, at the back window, he could see the creature’s ugly face. It was nothing but vertical mouth and sharp fangs. Toby aimed, steadying himself against the seats with his hips. He let loose with a full-auto stream of death, shattering the back windows and splattering the creature into Swiss cheese. It fell away, and Toby rushed to the window to see it bounce off of a few trees in the taillights.
It was gone.
“Fuck you,” Toby growled.
“Toby,” Eric shouted. “Are you okay?”
Toby ran back to the front, plopping down in the passenger seat, breathless and about to explode with testosterone—he was guessing.
