I glared at Jeremy, knowing that it was his fault and feeling no sympathy for him. I ran my hand over Becky's forehead and whispered down to her. "I won't leave you, Becky. I'm going to stay here with you."
Her body shuddered, wracked by sobs and her hand found mine and grasped tightly. "Papa?"
Jeremy stood, wiping away tears and pulling his revolver from its holster but he didn't take aim.
"Do it." I almost snarled.
His red-rimmed eyes met mine and we stared at each other for a few more moments.
"Do it." I repeated, more firmly. Becky still cried in my arms. She seemed to be unaware of what was going on in the world around her now. I could feel the heat in her body starting to burn against my own.
Jeremy held the gun up, aiming it at my forehead. It would be a mercy and I welcomed it.
Closing my eyes, I waited for the darkness to come, waited for the blackness of death to envelope me. I wondered if I would even hear the shot.
All I heard were Becky's sobs.
Finally, I felt, more than heard, as Jeremy turned and walked away. At the sound of the front door closing, I opened my eyes to see Becky and I were alone. They didn't even grab the packs we had already set out for the haul.
"Coward." I muttered.
CHAPTER 3
ALI
I felt like a caged animal. I had spent all day yesterday studying the freaks' behavior, going from one window to the next on the second floor of my house.
I had spent the night loading my SUV
This morning I was pacing my house again. It was difficult getting control over my anxiety, and I had been too nervous to test the truck to see if it would start. The last time I had tested it, it had taken me a whole week to thin the freaks out of my driveway.
I had left the mobile battery charger hooked up, so every time the power was on, the juice was flowing to the battery in the truck. It had started just fine a month ago when I had finished the conversion. I had no reason to believe it wouldn't start now.
The SUV was roomy enough, but the gallons of kerosene and vegetable oil I was using for fuel took up a lot of space. I wouldn’t have room to bring everything I wanted. There were many things here I would miss, for example, my bed. Not to mention the running water. I sighed heavily, not wanting to go but knowing that saying here was no longer an option.
I needed a distraction to clear the freaks out of my driveway, and had devised a plan. I was going to venture up the road to light a fire. I was sure that would lure the freaks away from my house, and give me room to back the truck out. As much as they were drawn to noise, they were also drawn to light. It seemed to be a good plan.
Everything was set. It was time to go.
I'd closed and locked all the windows in the house to make it secure, even going so far as to board up the window I'd broken months ago. I looked around my room one last time as I belted on my weapons, and then turned off the light switch. Old habits die hard.
I had decided I was keeping the keys to the house. Keeping a backup plan just in case never hurt anything and it gave me a sense of security. So now I had house keys and car keys on my key chain. I snorted at the normality of it.
Leaving the door to the garage unlocked, I manually raised the garage door cautiously, keeping my eye out for the freaks.
They were there, waiting on me.
Those that heard the creaking as the door was pulled up came to stand in the driveway, stopping when they sensed nothing else of interest. I had moved back into the shadows of the garage, but they didn't seem to care about me. A few shambled away after a while, going back to their daily activities of pacing up and down the street. The three that remained looked like they had decided this was as good a place to stand as any other.
I approached slowly, watching for any movement or hostility from the freaks. They didn't even look at me.
Holding an old yard stick outstretched in my hand, I nervously walked up behind the one closest to me and nudged its shoulder with the stick. It swayed forward off balance, even stumbling a few steps to stay upright. That was it. I didn't even get a moan of protest from it, and the other freaks didn't bother turning around. It was common place for them to be jostled around by their own kind here and didn't warrant investigation.
I tested the other two as well, and pretty much got the same response. I didn't matter to these things. I left the yard stick resting against the side of the house as I subconsciously rubbed my fingers over the scar on my forearm.
Surveying the road, I still felt uneasy about venturing out into the crowd. I could start killing them, but that would take too long. This would be quicker and less messy.
I finally had to push myself to do it. Grabbing the pack full of dry wood, matches, and rags doused in kerosene, I slipped the straps over my shoulders and slowly walked out of the garage.
I knew how many freaks were on this section of street. Twenty seven who stood unmoving, seven that made their rounds at various different paces, and fifteen that walked up and down the street. That didn’t include the freaks on the lawns. I had initially tried to count the ones standing in the surrounding lawns, but overgrown trees and hedges, not to mention other buildings, blocked my view and my count came up inaccurate.
Regardless, knowing how many were in the street was enough to know how much danger I would be in if they turned on me. It would be a tough fight to break myself away from all these freaks, but I had my escape route firmly laid out in my mind.
I had planned my route from the upstairs window, but things were already looking much different at the edge of my driveway. I was a mere five feet away from one of the immobile freaks. When I noticed the fresh wound on his arm and the blood dripping from his fingertips, I cringed.
I looked down the street to where I had planned to set the fire. It was just two houses down, but it looked so far away. I swallowed, trying to drum up my wavering nerve, and took a few steps. One of the standers further up the road turned to look towards me, and I froze, but it made no other movement.
My gut was twisting in knots, but I continued to move. I wasn't able to discern which ones would take notice or ignore me completely, but every time one turned towards me I shuddered. Chills were running through me and I was beginning to think this had been a bad idea.
No Ali, this was a good idea, how else are you getting that tank out of here?
I berated myself, taking a moment to drive the fear back down. One step at a time, and I was inching further, getting that much closer to my target. I wasn't able to follow a straight path there as I had to weave around the standers and make sure I was out of the walker's paths as they came around.
One step at a time.
Now I was in front of the neighboring house and so far had not come in striking distance of any freak. There was a cluster of six standing under a tree just up ahead, blocking the sidewalk, and I wasn't able to move out to the road or I'd end up in a walker's path. I was going to have to walk past the group, passing maybe two feet away from them. I would easily be able to reach out and touch them.
My hand was on the hilt of my knife, but I hadn't pulled it yet. I was still very unsure if the freaks still had enough of their memories left to recognize a weapon, so I kept it sheathed but ready. The palms of my hands were sweating but the leather grip was tight in my white-knuckled grasp. It wouldn't slip if I had to use it. I trusted this weapon.
I knew my pace had slowed to a crawl as I was barely inching up to the group. A couple of them were staring up into the tree, probably noticing birds or watching the leaves rustle in the breeze. I was only five feet away from them and they had taken no notice of me.
I took another step. Four feet away. Still nothing.
Another step. Three feet away. One of the freaks in the back took notice. She looked down at me, but stilled.
One more step and I was beside them. The stench of unwashed bodies was so crazy bad this close to them I had to breathe through my mouth.
I stepped away
from the group then, increasing the distance between us. The thought that I was in the clear was beginning to form in my mind when one of them backed away from the group, turning to regard me. It was so close I could feel its hot, sticky breath on my shoulder. Before I could stop myself, I side stepped out into the road, right in front of a walker.
It ran right into me. A businessman judging by the suit and what remained of his tie. I stumbled back a step, clinching my teeth together so I wouldn't scream. He stepped into me again, his chest was flush with mine and my nose was a hairs breadth from his. My body went rigid. I didn't dare breathe.
Time stopped.
Looking into his sunken eyes, I watched his pupils dilate, the black dots growing wider through the red swirling irises. The gaunt, hallow cheeks moved just a fraction as his disgusting breath washed over my face. My heart was thundering in my chest, and I felt like I might faint.
He had my arm pinned against my stomach, the arm that grasped the knife. I had yet to move, thinking through the steps of how I would pull the weapon to dispatch the walker.
He took another step forward, pushing me backwards with him. I actually pushed him back a step as I drew the blade, my body reacting instinctively. He didn't seem to notice and he walked forward again, right back into me.
My addled mind put the pieces together before I raised my hand to strike. He was just trying to continue his walk.
With his next step, I let him brush me aside. He was free of me and walking down the street again, not even fazed by his interruption. I looked back at the freak that had startled me and found him just staring at me, staring through me.
I still didn't matter to them.
I felt like I was going to throw-up.
Sweat had beaded on my forehead and upper lip, and I could feel it dripping down my neck. I was only halfway to my target location. I had to close my eyes and just breathe. Deep steady breaths that would slow my heart beat and calm my nerves.
I was shaking now, the effect of the adrenaline pumping through me. Even though it was the very last thing I wanted to do at that moment, I sheathed my knife.
When I opened my eyes again, the target location looked even further away.
One step at a time.
I stayed in the street, as it seemed to be the clearest path now. When the walkers got too near me, I just stopped and they continued past. Ten more steps and I was done. My original target still a few yards away, but I couldn't make myself go any further. It was close enough, and it would do.
I found a clear spot in the middle of the street, no freak within a five foot radius of me at that moment. I very slowly pulled the pack off my shoulders, and started to unzip it.
I didn't know if it was the sound of the zipper or the smell of the kerosene that caught their attention, but every freak that was close to me turned to watch. My stomach roiled but I didn't slow. As I lowered the pack to the ground, I gingerly pulled out the wood and rags and set it all on top of the pack.
Some of the freaks were taking curious steps toward me, and I sped up my process, pulling the matches and striking one to life. I hastily touched the flame to my kindling and watched the fire eat away at the sodden cloth. Grabbing another match, I lit a few more pieces of cloth on fire before dropping it in the pile.
The fire was burning nicely by the time I stood, and all the freaks that were close to me were only focused on the fire. I stepped backwards as the freaks were stepping forward to stare into the flame. One brushed past my shoulder, and then another, all of them completely ignoring me.
I turned, seeing that my plan was working. All the nearby walkers were drawn to the flame, including those that had milled up into the driveway. Even the walkers had stopped to stare. I was the only one moving away, but they didn't notice me.
I could feel the doubt and dread fading from my body the closer I got to my house, but I couldn't celebrate yet. I was so close, but they could still prove to be a huge hazard to me if they blocked me from getting to the main road. I knew my small distraction wouldn't clear all the freaks between here and there.
Even still, I was elated when I got back to the garage and slid into my nice new truck. I did allow myself a sigh of relief then. Sliding the key into the ignition, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and would have truly prayed then if I still believed.
Start please, Dear God, start!
I turned the key.
The engine rumbled to life.
* * *
I felt free. My drive out of the neighborhood had gone better than I'd expected. I only had one huge group of freaks that I had to get around, but the truck was able to push them out of the way before I got overwhelmed.
The problem I was having was remembering my way out of the city. I didn't have a map, and had never been to the Dallas area before, not to mention that my trip in was full of meandering paths and exploration. I couldn't begin to backtrack now.
I decided west was the best way to go, and even though I had to dodge cars and freaks as I came across them, I was able to weave my way through the streets until I finally found an Interstate. I30 the signs said, but I didn't recognize it at all. That didn't matter. As long as the way wasn't blocked by cars, I should be able to navigate the highway.
One thing I had found out about Dallas, whatever had caused the turn here had been so quick there was no rush to exit. No attempts at an evacuation of any kind. That meant there weren't a lot of spots on the interstates that were completely blocked.
Another thing I found out in Dallas, you could broil a freak alive in a closed car just by the heat of the summer sun. They did not regenerate fast enough to outlive that.
Most of the cars I had come across down here had mostly rotten skeletons in them. I didn't even want to imagine what the highways smelled like that first summer. It probably rivaled the death pools in comparison. I could still smell the decay, but it faded into the background quickly enough. Nothing smelled pretty anymore.
I rolled along at a nice pace, interested in what used to be the bustling landscape of Dallas. Maybe I had wasted my time holed up in that neighborhood so long. Maybe I should have moved around more.
I dismissed the thought, knowing that I needed the safety of my house so I could recharge my will to keep fighting. There were too many times recently I had thought about giving up. Losing Seth. Leaving Joss. I just needed time to forget about the mistakes I made. Heal from the wounds, and find the strength to move on.
I was lost in contemplation when I spied an old amusement park coming up on my left. That was something I hadn't thought about in a long while. I slowed the SUV to a stop, knowing it would be safe. There were no freaks here.
I took the time to look over all the rides I could see from the road. I imagined the rides moving; the exhilaration of the roller coasters, the serenity of the Ferris wheel. As I stared at the relics of a lost past, I wondered if the world could have anything like this again.
Heaving a heavy sigh, I continued my journey. After seeing the amusement park, I lost interest in the buildings and just wanted to put it all behind me. I was actually surprised how clear the road was, and was making pretty good time. The truck was running pretty smoothly, too. That in itself was a huge relief.
I drove through what used to be Fort Worth and was passing through a place called Arlington Heights when I saw something that caught my eye.
Army tanks.
I immediately pulled off the interstate to investigate since this was not a normal sighting. I might be able to find some very useful supplies here as it looked like the vehicles were positioned to attack, or possibly to hold something off.
Maybe this had been a rescue attempt and it was defeated so quickly the military never let word get out. It wouldn't have been the only time that happened.
I rolled alongside the line of tanks, five in all, and peered around. I saw the usual number of freaks roaming the streets, some wearing army fatigues, and the handful that picked up interest in my truck were wandering over.
I had some flares in my glove box I could use for a distraction if absolutely necessary, but I wanted to save them if I could. That might not be an option though since I didn't have the material ready for me to build another mini bonfire.
The truck was surrounded pretty quickly, so I had to wait a bit for some of them to get bored and wander off before I could get out. I sat there for at least thirty minutes after I'd killed the engine with only one window barely cracked. The car was stifling hot, and I was dripping with sweat. I finally had to chance opening the door and test their reactions. Thankfully, I got what I had been hoping for. They ignored me.
Slipping out of the truck, I pushed the door shut as quietly as I could. As I turned to the tanks, my hand went instinctively to the hilt of my knife as I looked around.
I had seen a few tanks since the world died, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to open these up with so many freaks roaming so closely. I was pretty sure my assumption that there were some army freaks still inside the tanks would be correct, but I was also banking on them being long dead from the hot Texas sun. It would be a broiler in those things.
If they were in there rotting, then so were their weapons. I just couldn't pass that up.
I climbed to the top of the first one I came across, and started to fiddle with the hatch. I was starting to think it might be locked from the inside as I couldn't get it to even budge a centimeter when I was finally rewarded with a loud squeal. I groaned inwardly as many of the freaks turned to me and started meandering up to the edge of the tank, but there was nothing I cared to do about that now.
I finished pulling up the hatch, and smiled a little at my good fortune when I did not smell decay from inside. I poked my head in, watching for any movement. When I saw nothing of interest, I lowered myself into the belly of the tank to have a look around.
I came up with absolutely nothing. The tank was picked clean, which I found very odd. I would assume there wouldn't be enough time to pull out all the supplies and leave the tank itself here.
The Phoenix Curse (Book 1): After Page 6
