Zombieclypse (Book 4): Dead Start

by Rosaria, A.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Sarah said.

  Vance grimaced. “What are you talking about?”

  His grin gave his handsome face a roguish look. A year ago Sarah would have fallen head over heels for him. He was her past stupid-self type. Now she, smart Sarah, owned a more refined taste. She knew his type—all show and no substance. Men like Jake and the captain. She’d made the mistake twice, and the second time got her hurt and almost killed, a choice she swore never to repeat.

  “Don’t touch that. It’s not yours and never will be.”

  He actually pouted. Not a cute look on a man. Not even her dumb past self would fall for that.

  “Sarah,” Priss said, “be nice.”

  Sarah glared at Priss, but stopped herself from saying anything that would start an argument. They needed to keep quiet. Sarah dragged her own backpack closer to her and opened it. She rummaged through it and grabbed four boxes of 5.7×28mm ammo and started reloading the P90 clips. Another day like this and she would be out of ammo. The gun ate bullets way too fast. It was a good thing it dropped enemies at the same speed. With a world full of enemies surrounding her, and bullets for the P90 being scarce, one day she’d have to discard the gun and get one with a more common caliber.

  Priss fell asleep, followed shortly by Vance. Sarah forced her eyes open till she was sure Vance was not faking sleep, and only then allowed herself to go. There was no point staying awake. Exhausted, they were not in any condition to flee if a wight found them. She surrendered herself to a dreamless abyss.

  Sarah startled awake upon hearing Priss giggling. She wiped the drool from her mouth and sat upright. Priss sat too near next to Vance, showing him the contents of Spacey’s backpack. He leaned closer and whispered something in Priss’s ear. The girl giggled again. Sarah’s frown grew deeper.

  “It was all Sarah’s idea to pack them in case we needed to flee,” Priss said.

  “Well, she seems as smart as you are cute.”

  Priss giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah stood up and staggered up to the backpack and kicked it. “I told you not to touch it.” She glared at Vance.

  “Grumpy much?” Priss said. “We survived the night, lighten up for once.”

  Sarah stared long at both of them. Vance turned away with that smug grin of his. Priss held Sarah’s stare.

  “I’ll cheer up when we find Spacey,” Sarah said. She jabbed a finger in Vance’s direction. “And he needs to keep his hands off our things.”

  “He’s a friend. Besides, he didn’t touch a thing, I did.”

  Sarah sneered at Vance. “Him? A friend? You must be joking.”

  Priscilla stood up, her fists clenched beside her body, her shoulders rigid. “Everyone alive who don’t mean us harm is a friend. We can’t survive if we keep pushing away people who try to help us.”

  Anger painfully knotted Sarah’s belly as she tried to keep it down. She squinted at Vance. A friend. Priss was right about needing people. But Vance? No, not him. The bastard was enjoying the confrontation, with his smug look and a hidden smile. Sarah turned her attention back to Priss, who stood her ground. The girl seemed to have grown taller. A good look on her.

  Sarah relaxed her shoulders and softened her eyes. She grabbed Priss’s fist and squeezed gently. The fist opened and closed under Sarah’s hand. Priss exhaled and brightened a little. Sarah realized she herself was smiling.

  “Just make sure he doesn’t mess with Spacey’s stuff, or mine, and we all will be all right. Okay?”

  Priss nodded. She let go and sat down with her shoulders less sagged than usual. If only Priss stood up to her like this for something worthwhile, that would make her happy. She should trust Priss’s judgment even if she feared it to be wrong.

  “Pack up,” Sarah said, “we leave in five minutes. Vance, carry Spacey’s backpack.”

  Vance raised an eyebrow. “You told me not to touch his stuff.”

  “Don’t you start. You know what I meant.”

  Vance grinned. “Just checking.” He strapped the backpack on and winked at Sarah. “I need to know where I stand, don’t I?”

  Sarah contemplated revealing where he stood with her. To put him in his place. A very uncomfortable place, far away if possible. She thought better of it. She wasn’t about to waste more time arguing with him.

  Sarah led them out their shelter, holding her P90 ready. Priss followed with her rifle, and Vance in the rear. Sarah noticed Priss’s Sig tucked in his belt. Would be fun if he accidentally discharged the gun. It would justify him singing a higher tune.

  It cost them precious time to trace back to the campfire. They found the wood still smoldering, thin smoke tendrils swirling up into the air. The only things left were ash, the logs Vance and his group had sat on, and blood patches where the bodies had fallen. No bodies. They couldn’t have walked away. Sarah witnessed both Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson’s brains splattered all over the place.

  Sarah searched around the perimeter. No graves dug. Loudmouth and his people must have taken the corpses along with the girls they captured. But why?

  She discovered a trail on the ground. They must have dragged the bodies. She followed it to the road. There she found a pool of blood where they must have rested; from there on, skid marks led away. Lucky bastards, they owned a car.

  Sarah’s gaze went up to the long road. Unluckily, she didn’t. Priss approached her with Vance’s arm draped around her shoulder.

  “So, Vance,” Sarah said, “they captured your girlfriend, any plans on how you are going to rescue her?”

  Priss’s shoulders stiffened, and she shrugged Vance’s hand off her shoulder. Vance flashed Sarah a dark look as he backed away. “You mean Becky? She isn’t my girlfriend.”

  “Well, you fooled me last night. She was very cozy with you for not being your girlfriend.”

  Vance walked away, not replying to Sarah’s question. “Priss, are you coming? We’ll find them and rescue them.”

  Priss shrugged. Sarah nodded. They followed him. Vance walked on the road like he knew the way. Sarah doubted he did. He was full of bluster. What she didn’t doubt was him wanting to take the lead from her. She would follow along for now. Spacey must be chasing after Loudmouth, thinking they captured her. That didn’t sit well with her at all. Spacey wouldn’t leave Priss to fend for herself in the forest while going on a wild goose chase. Most likely something happened to him.

  After going at a steady pace for an hour, Vance signaled for them to stop. They left the road and found cover behind a thick tree.

  “Why are we stopping?” Sarah said.

  Vance addressed Priss, “Something stirred up ahead. I think there is a camping site in that direction. They could be there.”

  “Well if that’s the case,” Sarah said as she readied her P90, “what are we waiting for?”

  Vance grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving out. “We can’t go charging in, guns blazing.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t the wise thing to do, and she wasn’t planning to, but they didn’t have time to wait around. “Who says so?”

  “I do, and so does Priss. Don’t you, Priss?”

  Sarah clenched her teeth. Low blow putting Priss on the spot. And going from the blushed cheeks, Sarah knew she was right about that. Before Priss could answer, Sarah conceded. “You are right, for once.”

  Vance nodded. “I’m glad you are finally seeing things my way.” He stretched out his hand. “Since you decided to follow me, you can hand me your gun. You know, so we don’t have little accidents.”

  Enunciating each word, Sarah said, “From my cold, dead fingers.”

  Her finger shifted on the trigger. Vance noticed this and stepped back, raising his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, forget I ever asked. Jeez, no arguing with you gun nuts. Keep your damn gun, no one is going to grab it from you.”

  Like if not a second ago he demanded her to hand it over.

  “Guys,” Priss sa
id, “we shouldn’t be fighting among ourselves. We have to figure out what to do.”

  There was only one option in her mind: to scope out the place and observe it. And if the chance presented itself, only then go in guns blazing.

  “We wait for sunset,” Vance said. “I’ll go scope out the place and return for you guys.” He glared at Sarah. “That’s why I wanted your rifle.”

  “As you will not have it. I’ll be the one going out and you guys will wait for me.”

  “But I-I—” Vance stammered.

  “Priss, take care of our guest. If I don’t return by sunset, escape without me.”

  Priss followed her as she left. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”

  Vance watched them from a distance.

  “I don’t trust him. Don’t you lose him out of your sight or allow him to leave to do whatever. Keep him near.”

  “He’s a friend.”

  “We’ll see about that. If I don’t return, you and your new friend leave this place. I won’t allow them to capture me; if I’m not back, it means I’m dead.”

  Priss grabbed her hands. “I don’t want you to die. Maybe we should leave together.”

  “I don’t want to die either, but I can’t just leave. I promise I’ll only scout out the place.”

  “No heroics,” Priss said with a serious face.

  “No heroics.” Sarah made a tiny cross sign over her heart. “I promise.”

  Priss let go. Sarah could feel the girl’s worried eyes on her as she left. She wished for peaceful days, to rest, and to not always be swimming in shit every day. But as long as people wedged their crap into her life, and the zombies hunted for her, she could not rest, and there could be no peace. Not for her, and not for those who opposed her, neither the dead or alive.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sarah smelled the camping site from afar. She sniffed the air. BBQ. Somewhere to the north. The road went on to the south. She followed her nose and headed straight through the forest to the north. Her belly grumbled. They were near now. The smell of meat was maddening. It took all her willpower not to charge in. Sarah avoided stepping on dead branches as she maneuvered while keeping low to the ground. By the time she reached the site, her mouth was watering and her belly rioting. Holding herself in check, she leaned against a tree, with her back to the camping site. A throng of voices reached her together with the scent of burning meat.

  She removed a can from her backpack. In bold letters, the label read SPAM. She screwed the lid open, scooped the cold meat with her fingers, and devoured it. She smacked her lips and licked the fat from her fingers. Not as good as the meat roasting a few yards away, but good enough to hold her hunger at bay, allowing her to focus on her task. Satiated or not, she would offer a finger to sprint down there and steal a juicy steak for herself. She doubted these people would want to share their food with her. If they caught her, they would feed her with so much lead, it would forever cure her hunger. Not desirable at all. Not by a long shot.

  Tents of many sizes and colors stood around two large pyres on a two-acre grass field surrounded by trees. Sarah removed the binoculars from her backpack to take a better look. Men were BBQing meat at the first pyre, and at the second they were burning something. The second pyre was at the back, away from full view, so she couldn’t see exactly what they were dumping into it. What she did see very well was the meat being BBQed. Large, juicy ribs. The men were having beers while they were at it. There were about twice as many women milling around than men, and each had a growing belly. Five kids were kicking a ball on a field.

  Sarah counted about forty people. Forty festive people, a large group, but nowhere near huge. She doubted this was the group who attacked them, that was until she noticed the cage-like construction between two larger tents guarded by two men armed with assault rifles. Sarah cursed. The tall, bare-chested, white-haired male in the cage surrounded by four young women, one of which was Becky, could be no one than Spacey. A huge man stomped out a tent near the cage. Sarah could hear him yell something. Loudmouth. He ducked back into the tent to exit a second later dragging a young naked woman. The men with guns held the cage’s prisoners at gunpoint, while loudmouth threw the girl inside. Becky rushed to embrace the woman. God. It was Nancy. These people were as bad as she expected them to be. From the number of people at this camp, going in guns blazing would kill her before she reached the cage. Loudmouth yelled something and grabbed Becky by the hair and yanked her out. The girl struggled to escape. Loudmouth slapped her twice rocking her back. Becky stopped struggling. Loudmouth dragged her to his tent, laughing as he went.

  Blood drew from Sarah’s face as she realized what was about to happen to Becky. She raised her P90 to her shoulder, snapped the select fire on, and aimed down her sight. A two hundred yards shot. She wasn’t sure she could hit someone this far without a scope. Sarah lowered her carbine biting her underlip. She couldn’t help Becky or the others. Loudmouth threw the girl inside the tent. Sarah turned away and left, not wanting to hear the screams that surely were to follow. Biting back her rage she vowed to kill loudmouth.

  The shadows grew longer as Sarah made her way back. She reached Priss and Vance with one hour to spare before sunset. Priss hugged her tight. “You scared me for a while.”

  “I told you I would only scout the place out and no heroics.”

  Priss laughed. “Yes, you did, and you did.”

  Vance approached. “And, did you find them?”

  Sarah nodded. “A bunch of them are camping and having the time of their lives. Not so much for their captives.”

  “Captives?” Vance said.

  “They got Becky, Nancy, and some other women, locked into a cage. And they got Spacey.”

  “Oh,” Vance said. “That’s bad. I should rescue them… yeah, I’ll do that.”

  Vance started walking. Priss shot Sarah a worried glance. Sarah rolled her eyes. “Vance, wait, there are about fifteen armed men at the camp, and who knows how many more. I didn’t get to count those who were sleeping or resting in their tents. For all we know it could be thirty armed men. You won’t stand a chance.”

  Vance stopped and faced her. “I guess you are right. So we leave them to die?”

  Priss grabbed his hand and squeezed. “She doesn’t mean it like that.”

  Sarah stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She didn’t want to take Nancy’s old role being the third wheel in the relationship. Last night already showed Vance for the parasite he was, and what made it worse was that he didn’t view himself like that.

  “After we find shelter will we figure out what to do.”

  Vance perked up. “I found a small cabin close by.”

  Sarah shot Priss a disappointed glance. “I told you to wait for me.”

  Priss shrugged. “He wanted to help, so he did.”

  Sarah wanted to pull her own hair out and scream at both of them, instead she groaned. “Show me the place.”

  Priss flinched away from the angry tone in Sarah’s voice. For once, Sarah didn’t care. Priss should learn to listen. Sure, her utter lack to had saved Sarah’s life once before, but sometimes it was important to listen. Life-preserving so. Especially now.

  They arrived at the abandoned cabin. Its door hung at its hinges by virtue of a miracle. The wooden walls were a few degrees away of disintegrating into themselves. In its current state, it would only function as a shelter against wind and maybe rain, but not a zombie attack. A wight sneeze would cause the cabin to topple down on them. Sarah hated having little choice. To the cabin’s defense, the surrounding growth secluded it from view. It was pure luck Vance stumbled on it. She wasn’t sure she would have noticed the cabin, not even if she bumped against it. Maybe there was some worth to him after all.

  They stored their backpacks inside. The sun was kissing the horizon by now. If she wanted to rescue Spacey tonight, she needed to leave now. And if she managed to rescue him, she needed to find her way back in the dark. Not an easy task to do. Pro
bably impossible. During the day, it was difficult to find your way in a forest, with every tree being a twin of another. In the darkness, you most often couldn’t even see the trees.

  “You want to go alone?” Vance asked.

  “If we go together, we have a larger chance of being discovered.”

  “You’re insane.”

  Sarah hated the way Priss was nodding in agreement with him.

  “It’s the only way it will work.”

  “But,” Priss said, “how will you find your way back in the dark?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll find a way.”

  “Nonsense.” Priss stood up and checked her rifle. “I’ll go with you, that way it doesn’t matter if we get lost. We would be together.”

  Sarah thought about it and it made sense. They could go together and Priss could cover her while she went in. From there on they could escape to wherever as long as they stuck together. The chance of discovery was greater, but it would be doable. She was about to agree when Vance grabbed an object from the bag he carried with him.

  “It’s a night vision goggle. It’s how I followed you last night. You can use this to find your way back.” He pulled a small spray can from his bag. “Mark the trees with this, they’ll glow through those goggles.”

  “Does it work? Never heard about anything like this.”

  “Trust me, it does. We… I found it at an army base together with the goggles. It must be some high-tech shit only they use.”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  She didn’t know if she could trust him. Sarah stared at Vance till his eyes shifted away, a slight blush on his cheeks. Again, was she wrong about him? “I guess I should say thank you?”

  Vance waved her away. “What are friends for?”

  No, not a friend, not there yet, but she could be a little less mean to him. She nodded. “I’ll be going, then.”

  “Are you sure?” Priss said as she grabbed her hand. Priss’s hand felt warm in hers. Sarah didn’t mind lingering a little longer.

  “Sarah, are you sure you want to do this alone?”