Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies | Book 3 | Firestorm

by Baker, Scott M.

  Stepping out from behind the driver’s seat, Chris gave a full circle check of the area, making certain he missed no approaching dangers. Once assured nothing would sneak up on them, he used the sniper rifle to pick off those deaders farthest away from Miriam and Kiera.

  In less than two minutes, they had cleared the area. By now, the fire had closed in on them from the front and rear, setting alight everything in the area. Black smoke flowed through the open spaces and ash fell on the parking lot like a soft grey snow.

  “Get back in the pick-up,” coughed Chris.

  The two women joined him. Kiera shook her head, dislodging the ash from her hair. The roar of the inferno could be heard clearly inside the cab.

  “We can’t stay here much longer,” warned Miriam.

  “I know.” Chris had a nervousness to his voice she had never heard before.

  “What should we do?”

  Chris raised the radio to his mouth and spoke loud enough to be heard over the fire. “Nathan, we’re going to have to move soon. The fire is about to cut us off. Where are you?”

  Dickson came around the rear corner of the hotel so fast the rear end of the Chevy fishtailed. He compensated and raced across the parking lot, coming within inches of clipping the front bumper of a Prius.

  “Slow down,” said Carter. “You’re going to get us killed.”

  “Fuck you. I won’t let those bastards—”

  “Over there.” Joel pointed to the right where the Hummer picked up Rebecca and the others.

  Dickson swerved in their direction and floored the Chevy. The engine knocked and pinged in protest. He ignored it, focusing his attention and his fury on the Hummer. The last of the kids climbed in back.

  “Send them a message,” Dickson ordered.

  Carter crinkled his eyebrows. “How?”

  “Shoot them.”

  Carter hesitated. After a moment, he figured hanging out the window of a speeding vehicle driven by a lunatic was preferable to pissing off Dickson. He reached in back and took an AK-47 off the back seat, rolled down the passenger door window, and climbed out, sitting on the ledge. Holding the inside handlebar with his left hand, he aimed with the right. He bounced around too much to get a good aim.

  “Hold my shirt.”

  “Me?” asked Joel.

  “Yeah, asshole. And you better not let go.”

  As Joel held him in place, Carter raised the semi-automatic and aimed at Alissa.

  Connie crawled into the Hummer last, sitting on her mother’s lap. Alissa closed the door and yelled through the window.

  “Hang on tight. It’s going to get rough in—”

  Three gunshots rang out. Two whizzed by her head. The third struck the right rear fender, ricocheted off, and clipped her arm. She looked down to see blood oozing from a three-inch cut across her upper arm. Three more shots rang out, two punching into the Hummer’s tailgate and the third missing her head by inches. Connie screamed and hugged her mother.

  Diana shifted in her seat. “Oh, shit. It’s Dickson.”

  “We’ve dealt with him already.” Alissa jumped into the front seat.” Let’s go.”

  Nathan floored it and pulled away a moment before three more rounds sailed past where the Hummer had been parked. Reaching the ring road around the outlet mall and the hotel, he made his way to Chris and the others.

  From her position at the end of the outlet mall, Elaine watched the Hummer speed past, followed a few seconds later by the Chevy. She ran out and waved for Dickson to pick her up. He ignored her and passed by, intent on catching the Hummer.

  Elaine broke into a sprint and followed the two vehicles.

  Racing through the outlet mall, Stratman found himself in a tunnel of fire as the stores on either side of him ignited. Embers fell on his arms and shoulders, searing the skin underneath. He brushed them off before they roasted him alive, which probably would not happen before he suffocated from the thick smoke surrounding him.

  He saw a break between the stores up ahead and to the right and ran for it, praying it didn’t lead into a dead end. It crossed a courtyard that opened onto a parking lot in the southwest corner of the mall. Stratman ran as fast as he could, stopping only when his lungs gave out. He dropped to his knees, inhaled, and coughed furiously. It felt as if he would hack his lungs out of his chest. Finally, after one intense cough that hurt his chest muscles, he hocked up a wad of black mucus and took in deep breaths. God damn, he might live for another few minutes.

  Two vehicles sped past the parking lot, the Hummer in the lead with Dickson in hot pursuit in the Chevy. Carter hung out the passenger window, firing on them. A few seconds later, Elaine ran behind them. Stratman laughed to himself. Maybe he wouldn’t live as long as he thought.

  Standing up and taking a moment to steady himself, Stratman set off after the others.

  “Here they come.” Kiera leaned forward and pointed to the access road from the hotel that ran by the restaurant.

  Chris stepped out of the Ram and waved them down. Nathan slowed and pulled alongside him. Chris noticed a pile of people in the back seat.

  “Where did you get…?”

  “Never mind that.” Nathan pointed behind him. “He’s our main concern.”

  As if on cue, the Chevy rounded the corner and bore down on them. Someone sat outside the passenger window, firing an AK-47. The rounds chewed up the pavement around the Hummer and punched into the tailgate. Alissa grabbed Nathan’s FAL and stepped out of the vehicle. She fired off the entire magazine, sweeping the barrel back and forth.

  One bullet went through the passenger side of the windshield, striking the gunman in the gut, who dropped his AK-47. One punched into the front grill. One ricocheted off the hood, blasting through the window in front of the driver. Another struck the left front tire, blowing it out. The front end of the Chevy swerved from right to left as someone inside the cab tried to hold the wounded gunman in place. The Chevy lurched violently to the right and overturned. When it toppled onto its side, the roof tore the gunman in half, the upper body being flung through the air and landing with a sickening splat ten yards from the Hummer. The Chevy rolled over once, landing on the curb of the dividing island, teetered for a minute, then toppled upright onto its wheels.

  “Cool,” called out Kiera, ignoring the glare Miriam flashed her.

  Alissa smiled at Kiera then turned to Nathan and Chris. “We have to get out of here. This entire place is about to go up in flames.”

  “You lead,” said Nathan.

  Jumping into the Ram, Chris exited the restaurant parking lot and turned onto Route 302, heading south.

  Upon reaching Route 302, Williamson found a flaming set of overhead traffic signals collapsed on and blocking the main road, forcing him to navigate through several parking lots to escape, which became more difficult by the minute. Flames engulfed every building on the west side of Route 302, spreading to the abandoned vehicles in the parking lots. He had to turn back onto the main road when he reached the entrance to the Saco River Camping Area, a wooded enclosure that burned fiercer than anything in Conway.

  Barnes stopped when he reached the merger between Routes 302 and 16, only half a mile from the Grand Hotel and the outlet mall. He couldn’t go any further. The conflagration had passed south of North Conway, followed the forest, and connected with the fire burning its way down the western side of the city, both having converged at this location. Everything around him burned. Fallen, flaming trees blocked Route 16. What remained of North Conway comprised an untouched area of less than a square mile, which the fire would soon consume.

  Everyone of them was trapped inside this area.

  Along with several hundred deaders.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Williamson stared at the inferno blocking his escape. He couldn’t go back, not after abandoning the group and making a run for it. Carter might have kicked his ass again to teach him a lesson, but the way Dickson ranted over the radio, Williamson would be lucky if Dickson killed
him quickly. He had only one option.

  He drove into the firestorm.

  Flames from the woods and burning buildings reached out for the van. The outside temperature registered one hundred and twenty-seven degrees. He tried rolling down the windows, but black smoke poured in, making it difficult to breath. The engine thermometer slowly climbed, reaching the red zone. Thankfully, the roads remained clear of debris and other vehicles, allowing him clear sailing. A quarter of a mile ahead of him, Williamson saw open road. He’d made it. In a few minutes he’d be—

  A burning pine along the side of the road toppled over, landing on the front hood of the van, caving in the engine compartment and shattering the windshield. Williamson screamed, not from fear or the broken glass that flew into his face, but from the fact the tree crushed the dashboard against his legs. He could still move his feet, so no bones were broken. When he yanked at his legs, they were wedged in place. Leaning forward, he reached for the seat adjustor, hoping to move it back. He had no room for his hand under the caved in dashboard.

  The flames from the fallen tree spread into the van, setting the interior on fire.

  Fuck.

  Williamson punched the dashboard in desperation, which gave him an idea. Placing his palms against the surface, he pushed up, hoping to raise it enough to move his legs. It didn’t work. Maybe if he—

  The van’s side windows burst, allowing the fire to roll in and turn the inside of the van into a furnace, surrounding Williamson. At least the end would be quick.

  Williamson guessed wrong.

  The clothes seared off his body in seconds. The skin, muscles, and tissues burned more slowly as the intense heat evaporated the water within him. Once his body had dried out, the epidermis caught fire, burning off and peeling away. The blood in his veins and arteries dried out and clotted, clogging his circulatory system. A few seconds later, those same veins and arteries began to melt. Next, the dermis caught fire, shrinking under the heat and bursting open, the fissures leaking fat onto the charred upholstery. The agonizing pain should have killed Williamson a minute ago. Fear and the adrenaline pumping through his body kept him on the brink of death physically, although his mind had long since gone insane. Williamson inhaled. The heated air dried out his mouth and lungs, depriving him of oxygen. He gasped for breath, unable to take in air, thrashing about the cabin in panic. Finally, after more than a minute of agony, Williamson slumped forward and fell against the steering wheel, fire consuming his body.

  Chris drove until he reached the intersection of Routes 16 and 302 then stopped. Nathan pulled up alongside the Ram and rolled down the window, motioning for him to do the same. When Chris lowered it, a blast of heat raced through the pick-up.

  “Why’d you stop?” asked Alissa. He could barely hear her over the roar of the fire.

  “Both ways out are blocked.”

  “Can’t we try to make a break?”

  “And end up like him?” Chris pointed to the burning van.

  “Shit!” Nathan ran his hand over his head. “We’re fucked.”

  “Not necessarily,” Alissa replied. “If we can find a large, flat area of concrete we might be able to ride this out.”

  “You mean like a parking lot?” asked Nathan.

  “Exactly. With luck, it’ll pass by us.”

  “With luck?” asked Chris.

  “It’s either that or be burned alive.”

  Miriam leaned forward and pointed to their left. “There’s a Lowe’s and a JC Penny over there. Will they do?”

  “Perfect. Follow us.” Alissa raised the window as Nathan pulled away, turned left, and headed for what they hoped would be safety.

  Elaine gasped when she saw that bitch fire at Dickson and the Chevy flip over. She dropped to her knees and vomited when Carter was torn apart and flung aside. By the time she regained her composure, the assholes had climbed into their vehicles and left.

  For a moment, she panicked. Williamson had stolen the van and the assholes the Hummer, and now the Chevy had been wrecked. As far as she could tell, the others were dead and she had no means of escape. Fire surrounded her on all sides. She had to make a run for it. She’d either find a way out or a safe place to hole up until the firestorm passed.

  Wiping her mouth clean, Elaine stood and ran across the restaurant’s parking lot.

  Stratman froze, uncertain what to do. The fire had all but enclosed him in a kill zone. The hotel and outlet mall had become a conflagration, every flammable structure on fire. He didn’t have enough time to make it to Route 302 before that exit would be blocked off, and the copse of trees to the left were already in flames. He had one chance of survival, as thin as it might be. A driveway cut through the trees to an open area beyond, a two-hundred-foot-dash down a fire tunnel. Stratman had no other options.

  Running across the access road, he plunged into the inferno.

  Dickson moaned and rolled his head from side to side. He smelled blood and heard a moan. Deaders. He woke with a start, searching for the approaching danger while feeling around for the Colt, relieved to see no immediate threat. At least from deaders. The firestorm drew closer.

  He checked the cab. Joel lay across the front seat, resting in a pool of blood, a large bruise on his forehead. At first, Dickson thought the blood came from Joel until he noticed Carter’s severed legs on the passenger floor. Joel moaned and rolled onto his side. Figures this prick survived while a good man like Carter died.

  Dickson slapped his face. “Wake up, asshole.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Those fuckers got away again.”

  “Let them go.” Joel sat up and leaned against the door. “We need to get out of here.”

  “I’m not going to let those bastards get away with this.”

  “We know where they are. We can take them down later.”

  “Fuck that.” Dickson turned the ignition on the Chevy. The engine started. “Are you in or out?”

  “I’m in.”

  Dickson tore out of the access road and onto Route 302.

  Nathan ignored the zombies they passed to reach the parking lots. The one in front of Lowe’s was the largest and, fortunately, had only a handful of vehicles parked in it. By now, everything around the lot, including Lowe’s and the adjacent JC Penny, were on fire. Nathan stopped in the center of the lot. Chris parked a few yards behind them.

  “So now we wait it out?” asked Nathan.

  “Not in the cars,” said Alissa. “They’re flammable. Besides, the only air fit to breathe is on the ground.”

  Nathan looked around. Over two hundred deaders approached from the southwest corner of Lowe’s and fifty more wandered through the area, each of them attracted by the newcomers. “We’ll be a buffet if we go out there.”

  “We’ll be a barbecue if we stay in here.” Alissa grabbed her Mossberg and climbed out, then circled around the other side and opened the rear door. “Everyone out and lay on the ground. Stay at least twenty feet from the cars.”

  “Wh-what about the deaders?” Diana seemed on the brink of losing it.

  “We’ll take care of them. Hurry.”

  As Diana ushered the kids out and helped them to the ground, Rebecca stepped over to Alissa and held up the Remington. “Can I get a gun? This thing’s almost out of ammo.”

  “Do you know how to shoot?”

  “I’ll learn.”

  Alissa handed her Carter’s AK-47. “Thanks.”

  Chris and the others joined her. “What are we doing?”

  “Making a last stand.”

  “Great,” chided Kiera. “We read about Custer in school. That didn’t go well.”

  Alissa pointed to Diana and the kids. “Miriam, do we have any masks for them?”

  “I can make some.” She placed her Mossberg against the Hummer, took off her shirt, and began tearing it into strips.

  Nathan and Rebecca had already begun picking off the deaders scattered across the parking lot. Alissa and Chris concentrated on those
near Lowe’s.

  “There they are.” Dickson pointed into Lowe’s parking lot. “There they are.”

  He spotted them from Route 302 and veered off, barreling across the JC Penny parking lot toward them, passing by ten deaders. He had the motherfuckers trapped.

  “They’ll see us,” warned Joel.

  “They have too much to worry about.”

  Dickson gunned the engine, heading straight toward Alissa.

  Miriam had finished handing out the make-shift masks when she heard an engine off to the right. The Chevy passed in front of JC Penny and bore down on them.

  “Incoming.”

  Nathen spun around and aimed the FAL, emptying the rest of his magazine into the front grill.

  Dickson did not duck when the rounds smashed into the pick-up. He did swear when every light on the dashboard lit up and the engine gave out. With the last of the Chevy’s momentum, he turned left. Opening the door, he dived out and pulled that idiot Joel across the seat to safety as another round of bullets tore into the pick-up.

  As Joel lay on the round whimpering, Dickson moved behind the left front wheel for cover, popped up, and fired the AK-47 he took from the back seat into the Hummer, blowing out two tires and sending the others ducking for cover.

  Then he spotted that bitch Diana and her two brats sprawled on the ground. He reloaded and took aim.

  As the AK-47 rounds slammed into the Hummer, Alissa realized the danger Diana and the kids were in. Jumping into the driver’s seat, she backed up and swung left, putting the vehicle between them and Dickson as a second round of gunfire pelted the vehicle. The shots were aimed low, most punching into the tires and the lower body. One round ricocheted around the cab, ripping a chunk of flesh from her right forearm. Blood spread across her shirt.