Kevin took a deep breath, switched to reverse, and applied pressure to the gas, turning the wheel the other way to get the bus to line up with the street currently on his right, which led back to the police station. However, the roar of the engine had riled up the infected around the bus, just as Melissa had warned him it would. There were a few angrily bashing the exterior, while others reached up to slap the windows with the palms of their hands. Kevin looked around and made use of the mirrors, confirming to him that the engine was drawing in even more of them; pretty soon, they would surround the whole vehicle.
He brought the bus to a stop after aligning it along the street and switched to forward drive. As he pressed on the gas however, a loud impact slammed into the window, a chunk of glass blowing out and sending fragments clattering inside while also causing cracks to form along the windscreen. Kevin cursed and ducked down. He didn’t have the faintest idea where the shot had come from, but a second after he’d moved into cover another shot punctured the window and slammed into the driver’s seat - where’d been only a moment earlier. Kevin hadn’t turned off the engine, so as it chugged away the infected continued their assault on the bus with growing intensity. Kevin’s mind reeled with confusion over what action he should take to extricate himself from his current predicament. He considered getting into position behind the wheel and driving away as quickly as he could, but this thought was put to bed as a quick pair of shots slammed into the bus again, making a loud thumping sound that was followed by a continuous hammering from the infected. Kevin, scared and confused, gasped in fear. He looked to his side and saw that the infected were hammering on the door to the bus; if they continued their assault and he didn’t move soon, he’d be done for.
Taking a few quick, steadying breaths, Kevin crawled into a position where he could reach the wheel with one hand and the gas pedal with the other. He had no idea how he was going to maneuver the bus clear of the infected and away from the Reborn using him for target practice, but he wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with options, so he mumbled the first prayer his mother had taught him as he turned the wheel and pressed down on gas. The bus rumbled and he thankfully felt a surge of forward movement. A moment later, however, the bus pitched sideways, and was met with an increase of angry undead howls and a pair of fresh shots into the vehicle's frame. Kevin risked a quick peek upward, managing to barely get his eyes above the dashboard area and catch a glimpse of where he was before the sniper fired at him again; the projectile narrowly missing him as he ducked back down. He was barely able to register that he needed to level out and keep going - away from the gathered horde of infected and the position the sniper was firing from. He repeated the prayer and assured himself he was near safety when one of the side windows about three seats back on the opposite side shattered. Surprise caused him to look in its direction to see fragments of glass everywhere. Without warning the bus then made a loud crunching sound and came to a sudden, violent halt. Kevin cursed with a fluency that would have made his pastor frown, as it had caused him let go of the wheel and lose his handhold on the pedal. A moment later, he was horrified to hear a renewed, aggressive assault on the doors of the bus and, turning to look, Kevin saw the infected had managed to pry them open a fraction, bloodying the tips of their fingers in the process. Glancing the other way, he saw a multitude of arms flailing around the blown out window, and then, with rising panic, saw three trying to clamber in.
Stricken with terror, Kevin didn’t stop to think. He switched the vehicle into reverse then hammered on the gas, pulling the bus back in an awkward lurch. He looked at the window and was exasperated to find they hadn’t been dislodged as he’d hoped and, as he released the gas and pressed on the brake, one of them made it into the bus, dropping heavily onto a seat before rolling off onto the floor. Though the side of the bus was again taking fire from the sniper, fracturing at least one more side window, Kevin risked popping his head up to take a quick look out of the front window. He saw that if he turned the steering wheel violently to the right and accelerated, it would realign the bus so it could continue on to the police station. Briefly, he considered getting into the driver’s seat again, but this thought was literally shot down as a bullet slammed through the driver side window and took a chunk out of the dashboard. Instead, he yanked hard on the steering wheel and slammed his other hand down hard on the gas pedal. The bus roared into life and surged violently to the left. He let it go for a second before turning the wheel back, hopefully leveling it out as it tore down the street. Looking back, he saw that one other infected had made it inside while the third had been dislodged. The two that were inside had crawled into the aisle and, one on top of the other, were scrambling towards him, the noise of the engine overriding the suppression of the collar and allowing them to see him for what he was: a meal.
Kevin looked up over the dashboard and saw that he was going relatively straight, and had now moved sufficiently down the street to be well clear of the intersection - and, he hoped, the line of fire from the sniper. The two infected were getting closer and closer, and he realized if he didn’t deal with them now they’d be within striking distance in seconds. Cautiously, he relinquished his hold on the steering wheel but kept his other hand on the gas - hoping to put more distance between himself and the sniper - while he grabbed his assault rifle and awkwardly tried to line up a headshot on the closest infected. He fired a pair of shots, but in his haste he had failed to take a solid grip on the weapon and they missed wildly, imbedding in the seats instead. Cursing loudly, he braced the rifle more rigidly against his shoulder and fired again, blasting open the skull of the closest infected as it reached out its hand to grab his boot. The second infected howled and crawled quicker, trying to clamber over its fallen companion to reach him. He took a brief steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, killing it instantly.
He had concentrated so hard on eradicating the threat to his life he’d almost forgotten he was still pressing on the gas until the bus came to another unexpected, crunching, violent stop, which made the whole vehicle shudder and sent the supplies he’d stacked so carefully on the rear seats scattering down into the blood-soaked aisle. Kevin himself hit the back of his head against the dashboard area and was disoriented for a moment. He struggled to his feet and immediately saw that he’d crashed into a car at the side of the road. The bus’ engine was still running, and when he looked back he saw he was about half a street down from the intersection. Assuming he was safe from the sniper, he shifted into the driver’s seat, put the bus in reverse and slowly backed away from the mangled vehicle, which lost its license plate amongst other pieces of jagged metal as the two separated. As he prepared to drive around the obstruction a thought occurred to him, so he grabbed his radio and pressed the talk button while he continued to drive with one hand.
“Roy? Melissa? Is anyone there?”
“That sounds important, Mr. Snipes; I think you should answer it. The Witness is probably busy.” The Ancillary told Roy. He didn’t like the idea of doing anything she told him, but he picked up the radio and left the cells. In any case, he’d spent enough time talking to her and knew he still had work to do.
“What is it, Kevin?” Roy asked roughly as he shut the door leading to the cells and crossed over to the one leading to the main floor of the police station.
“I was shot at by a sniper while I was getting the bus. I don’t think I should come directly back, not unless Melissa’s there and you guys are ready to leave?”
“She’s not back, and no, don’t come straight here. If it was the Reborn shooting at you then we don’t want to lead them back to the Ancillary, and if it was just some nut then we don’t want them to set up outside and take a shot at Melissa when she does arrive back.” Roy confirmed.
“Right. So, uh, should I just drive around the block?” Kevin questioned.
“I don’t know, just try to get somewhere away from the infected, kill the engine and settle down for a while. When we find out where Melissa is, we can co
me up with a better plan.”
“Okay, that sounds logical... I guess.” Kevin responded. To Roy, he still sounded rattled, which wasn’t entirely surprising.
“Hey,” Roy started, “be careful out there. And if you take fire again, come straight here and we’ll just deal with it.”
“Okay, will do. Over and out.” Kevin responded. Roy was still holding the radio to his mouth, and held it there for a few seconds after Kevin had apparently continued on his way. The advice he’d given him was the best Roy could think of, but somewhere, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but remember his conversation with the Ancillary and the promise she’d made if he would help her when the time was right. At first he’d laughed inwardly, ridiculing the idea that he would help her. But then, as she’d talked and explained herself, a part of Roy was disturbed to find that he could see her point of view.
Melissa had scavenged quickly around the garage, looking for more weapons, or anything that could be turned into one - anything which would give them an edge if the infected turned feral. Rochelle, it seemed, was somewhat particular regarding what weapon she could use to defend herself. Apparently she hadn’t killed the two infected in the garage; her boyfriend had before heading out into the market to get some supplies. He hadn’t returned, but had fortunately left the radio they’d taken from a fallen police officer. She recounted this story in minute detail while Melissa searched and tried to listen, but quickly grew weary of the woman’s endless diatribe.
“How about you try this? Think you can swing it?” Melissa asked, handing her a heavy wrench. Rochelle dropped it immediately, making a loud clunking sound in the process that caused a small ruckus of infected moans and groans from the other side of the garage door.
“I guess that’s a no.” Melissa stated the obvious, before muttering quietly to herself. “Lord, help me; is there anything she can do?”
“Sorry, it’s too heavy.” Rochelle responded.
Melissa had previously given her a long screwdriver, but apparently the idea of stabbing someone made her feel sick; she was also too afraid of missing with a chain and hitting herself or Melissa, and, when offered a large hammer, claimed she’d never had good hand-eye coordination and wasn’t convinced she could hit a zombie’s head, let alone with enough force to disable or kill it.
“So, is there anything you think you could use as a weapon?” Melissa asked shortly. Rochelle looked around the garage, a frightened, slightly confused look on her face. Eventually her eyes settled on Melissa’s rifle, and immediately Melissa shook her head.
‘No offence, but if you think your hand-eye coordination sucks too much to hit a zombie with a hammer, I’m not going to trust you with a gun.” Melissa told her directly.
“That’s a little rude, but I guess I see your point.” Rochelle told her. “So, what are we going to do?”
Melissa shook her head. “Something you’re not going to like.”
“Uh, oh.” Rochelle stated.
“You’re going to hold onto me really, really, tightly, and we’re going to walk out of here.”
“That’s crazy!”
“No, it’s not. You see this collar I’m wearing? It should stop the infected from detecting us, as long as we’re quiet and there’re no loud noises.”
“And if there is a loud noise?” Rochelle questioned.
“Then we run.” Melissa told her determinedly.
“Oh, my God! Have you done this before?”
“I have.”
“And did it work?”
“Without a hitch.” Melissa lied.
“I guess... I guess we could.”
“Absolutely we can.” Melissa told her with breezy confidence. After all, mentioning what happened the first time she’d tried it wouldn’t fill Rochelle with confidence and settle her nerves. Melissa had first hoped they could go straight out the external garage doors, but found they were locked and secured by a padlock, which meant their only way out was through the market, the least pleasant option of escape.
It didn’t seem wise to cut through the office, mostly because climbing over the counter to get out would make it difficult to keep Rochelle within the protective area of the collar, so Melissa approached the garage door and saw a large yellow box next to it, with one green and one red button. Melissa looked back at Rochelle who was about two paces away from her, shivering with uncontrollable fear.
“Get back into the inspection pit and stay there until the door’s open.”
“Why?”
“Because if this makes too much racket they’re going to rile up; I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”
“O-Okay.” Rochelle responded though chattering teeth.
Once she was down in the inspection pit Melissa looked back at the yellow box. She needed to get as far away from it as possible once she had pressed the button, hoping the door would rise quickly and that once the noise ceased, the infected would fall rapidly under the suppressive effect of the collar. Melissa considered taking a moment, just in case this was the last thing she ever did - to smell the roses, figuratively speaking - but then she gazed intently at her surroundings. If this was it, there wasn’t exactly a rose to smell in the dirty garage, so she hit the green button then swiftly retreated as far as she could, pressing her back against the exterior doors. The mechanism rumbled into life, raising the door speedily but loudly. The metal was clunking and rattling as it folded up into the rack that ran along the ceiling, and the reaction amongst the infected was immediate. Aggravated, they growled and roared angrily, swatting first at the door as it retreated away from them and then at the space where it had been. Melissa let the assault rifle hang at her side and withdrew the knife, preparing to kill any that reached her. As the door slid away, the infected began to notice Melissa and started towards her, a pair of outliers stretching out their arms as they moved across the garage floor towards her. She held the knife ready, her other arm raised and ready to grapple the first infected to reach her. The metal screeched and groaned as the door continued its journey into its housing, while the first of the infected reached the halfway point between it and Melissa. More were noticing her from beyond the opening too - and perhaps also catching the scent of Rochelle - and they began filing into the garage area in the wake of the forerunners, moaning and groaning with every faltering step. The door came to a loud clunking stop, but the infected were still rabidly incensed. The nearest suddenly lunged towards Melissa and, without wasting a second to consider her actions, she snatched hold of it by the throat before slamming the knife into its forehead. As she yanked the blade free, a spurt of blood escaping as she did, she tossed the corpse to the side. She had no time to observe the greater horde of infected as another close one was trying to seize her free arm. Melissa reacted immediately, stabbing it through the temple and pulling the blade free as a third came at her. It dropped to its knees and reached out in an attempt to grab her legs and pull her off her feet, but Melissa swung her arm and slammed the blade down, puncturing the crown of its skull. As she pulled the knife back, ready to assault the fourth, she realized those closest to her were coming to a stop and the ones behind were slowing. In the silence that followed - broken only by the irritating groaning of the horde in the supermarket, who were too far from the collars numbing effect, and Rochelle’s barely audible whimpering - the collar fully reasserted its influence over those infected nearby. Melissa swiftly moved to Rochelle’s hiding spot, standing over it and preventing them from detecting her. She scanned the dozen or so infected who had surged into the garage and the dozen more attempting to join them, looking for any indication that they were about to attack. However, they seemed to be sedated, at least for the moment. Melissa, now that the danger seemed to have passed, realized that her heart was racing and thudding in her chest. The most important thing was that the plan appeared to have worked; the infected had stopped and the door was open. Now, all they needed to do was walk out.
“Just like that.” Melissa said to herself.
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Melissa cautiously moved to the entrance of the maintenance pit and gestured for Rochelle to come up, using an open hand, palm down gesture that she raised and lowered slowly, hoping Rochelle interpreted it as ‘move slowly’. Rochelle started to clamber up, moving with extreme caution, her boots clunking very softly on the steps as she came back up to ground level. She was a few paces away from Melissa, and the infected closest to Rochelle gradually turned in her direction, audibly sniffing the air and looking about. They didn’t move, however, and this led Melissa to believe that the plan would work as long as Rochelle kept in close proximity to her. She approached the other woman and stepped in front of her.
“Arms around my waist; move with me.” Melissa whispered over her shoulder before focusing on the docile throng before them. Rochelle slipped her arms around Melissa, holding her so tight it was almost crushing. She also brought her boots up so close she was almost on Melissa’s heels, but the latter knew it was a necessary discomfort.
With Rochelle almost fused to her, Melissa started to move. She took cautious steps, progressing carefully and quietly, feeling Rochelle move in time with her. The infected seemed... uneasy, was the only description Melissa could apply to them, as though they sensed something but couldn’t locate it. Melissa kept the knife drawn, ready to use if one of them so much as looked at the pair the wrong way, but hoped she wouldn’t have to as any violent encounter would unnerve Rochelle. If the frightened woman started screaming and shouting, then it could quickly lead to disaster. Melissa gently pushed the infected aside, not using significant force to dislodge them in case this broke them from their collar induced stupor. They walked, the awkward movements reminding Melissa of a video she’d seen of a toddler walking behind her parent by holding onto his trousers. The video had been adorable, but living through it with the flesh eating undead on all sides was a radically different experience. They made their way slowly but surely through the packed infected near the door. Melissa was continuing to carefully forge a path without making any rapid movements, which could alert them to the prey just within their grasp. Behind Melissa, Rochelle suddenly let out a soft, fearful murmur when one of the infected brushed against her. A number of them turned to peer in puzzlement at the direction of the sound, but thankfully failed to detect Melissa and Rochelle. The former, after a shake of her head to show her disapproval, continued creating a path until they reached the point where the infected started to thin out and, as they passed through the doorway, Melissa was relieved to see it was significantly less densely packed outside than when she arrived. Many had started shuffling away, others stood motionless, staring off into an endless distance. As they passed by, Melissa saw that one had flopped down, collapsing onto its rear to stare intensely at its feet. There was, Melissa noticed, a strangely forlorn look on its face, as though a part of its brain knew exactly what it was. The sadness expressed in its eyes made Melissa view it not only as one of the infected - a flesh eating monster - but also as the person it once was and she felt a brief surge of sympathy.
A World Reborn (Book 2): Global Outbreak Page 9
