“Cover your faces—we don’t know how this shit spreads,” I called out, fear making my voice quaver. I turned my face from the fence momentarily and I saw Alexa’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh my god. I felt something wet touch my cheek a few seconds ago. God.” The young girl gasped out, then covered her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, fear painting her expression several shades of pale.
“I’m sure,” I grunted, slamming the filet knife into an eye and almost vomiting as the orb burst forth with milky fluids to run down the zombie’s face, “you’re fine.”
We kept at it, our knives and forks pushing through the metal, sometimes scraping the bars and sending a sharp, nails-on-chalkboard sound pulsing through the cacophony. More of the monsters seemed to be coming. With every corpse that fell, another took its place. I realized that it must have been the ones that had fallen and were finally catching up to the attacking horde.
My chest was heaving, my breath coming in gasps, when the last body mercifully fell.
“Jesus Christ.” Trent dropped the knife he was holding and backed away from the bloody gate. His hands raised to grip his hair, not run through it, but grip it hard so that his forehead pulled up a fraction, the skin becoming tauter than was natural. “Look at what we did. Christ. We’re murderers.”
“Pull yourself together,” Nolan barked, walking back to the apron table and setting his two knives down atop it. I noticed then that the mandolin attachment had gone untouched. “We’re not murderers—these things are already fucking dead.”
“I need a drink.” Trent stumbled his way over to the bar area and started rifling through the bottles there. “Schnapps. Nasty shit. Vodka. Hello, vodka.” He grappled for a glass, knocking over two, which made a sharp clinking sound on the wood countertop.
“You trying to call some more zombies for us to kill, idiot?” Nolan stomped over to Trent and grabbed the bottle out of his hand. “Shit, you’re going to get us all killed.” His words were harsh, but he set about pouring three small highballs of liquor. “Sam?” He held a glass out toward me and I walked gratefully to it. Even though vodka would be one of my last drink choices normally, right then I needed something to steady my nerves.
“We need to get back to the others,” Nolan said after shooting back the drink and placing the glass upside down on the counter. “These shits are still getting in here somehow, and we’re not safe until all exits and entrances are definitely barred.”
Cringing, I lifted the cool glass to my lips and tilted my head back quickly, taking down the burning liquid in a single gulp. I hiccupped after, like a damn cartoon character, but I didn’t care. The vodka felt good as it slid down my throat and into the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t a huge drinker, but that might change. I wondered if they had AA meetings at the end of the world—people still giving out tokens for a month’s time sober. I nearly laughed at that, wishing for a time where sobriety could be a person’s biggest challenge…not killing zombies to stay alive. I fought back the hysteria. I didn’t let myself so much as chuckle, though I think it would have relieved some of the fear still clawing at my chest.
Trent drank his vodka with shaking hands, dribbling it onto his new shirt. “Let’s take some of this for the road.” He eyeballed the bottle of vodka, still half full, and I got the distinct impression that I was watching a man lapse after a long time sober.
“No, we don’t need that shit. It just impairs our thinking. One shot’s a hell of a lot different than a damn bottle.” Nolan was walking away from the counter and looking around the restaurant. “Fucking hate that we lost everything we’d found.”
“Maybe we can pick up some of the things on the way back,” I replied, watching as Trent pulled out some more bottles. “And I don’t think it’s such a terrible idea to grab a couple of bottles—might steady the nerves.”
Nolan turned on me, ready to protest, but I interrupted quickly.
“After we’re all safe and this place is locked up tight, obviously.”
I didn’t wait for his approval. Instead I snagged a doggy bag from beneath the napkins and I grabbed the tequila and a bottle of rum and shoved them into the bag.
“I don’t think that’s a good—”
“Oh, get off your high horse, Nolan.” I glared at Nolan. I knew he meant well, and really, drinking should have been the last thing on anyone’s mind right then. But when the world went to hell in a handbasket, drinking seemed like a logical thing to do. I just didn’t care right then. I’d look for a post-apocalyptic AA meeting later. “Is there any food back there we can take with us?” I cocked a thumb at the kitchen entrance he’d gone through to get knives.
He shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to eat anything back there. Blood everywhere.” Nolan seemed to have taken his macho attitude down a notch. I could handle him, if he were just a little less…himself.
I sighed and turned to look at Alexa. She was waiting by the gate, the meat forks still in her shaking hands like dual sabers as she stared off into the distance.
“You okay, hon?”
She blinked and then focused on me. “Not even the tiniest bit,” she said with a soft shake of her head.
When all this was over—if it was ever over—we were all going to need some serious therapy. Especially Alexa.
I went to her and threaded my arm through hers, not trying to take the weapons off of her, because Lord knew she’d probably need them again soon. “It’s going to be fine. I promise you.”
“Don’t make promises,” she sniffed. “I’m not stupid. I know this is bad.”
“Okay. No promises.” We stood quietly as Nolan and Trent unlatched the gate and lifted it up slowly. It was nearly silent, as if someone had recently oiled the mechanism. I hadn’t noticed when Nolan had yanked it down. I couldn’t have noticed, above the din and frenzy of escape.
Some of the bodies were still twitching on the ground. We were careful stepping over them, being sure to avoid any of the mouths with quivering lips. I watched as Nolan put his knife through the heads of the still-moving ones, I guess just to be sure that they were actually dead. He was cold and calculated in his movements, like maybe he’d done something like that before. A chill ran down my spine. We all knew so little about one another. Someone could be a damn serial killer and we wouldn’t know…because the current “kill or be killed” situation sort of drowned out the importance of our individual pasts.
When we were clear of the mass of bodies, I felt a weight lift from my chest. “It’s weird, isn’t it? That they all just kept trying to get in while we were hacking them to pieces?”
“Whatever this is has obviously been dicking with their brains. They’re not smart enough to get out of the line of fire.” Nolan was a few feet ahead, Trent beside him. He bent over as he spoke, picking up the bags of clothing he’d stuffed at the first store.
“Well, at least our misadventure won’t go empty-handed,” I commented.
“Trent, start grabbing the water bottles and stuff as you see them.” Nolan ignored me, continuing to recover what they’d lost while avoiding death. “There’s one of the shopping bags.” He pointed and Trent, like an obedient pup, followed direction. I wanted to defend him again, tell Nolan to stop acting like he owned the airport, but it hadn’t done any good the last time. Besides, he was a good leader, I couldn’t deny that. And in times like this, there needed to be a leader to keep us all banded together and safe.
Christ, I was tired, and my new clothes were stained with zombie blood and other, wetter things. This was the worst fucking end to a romantic getaway I could have ever imagined. Instead of getting the big D overseas, I was getting death by zombie stateside. Any other time, I would have thought hey, that’s a great name for a band and death by zombie—it’ll be a smash, but right then, faced with the dark reality, I wanted to puke.
Chapter six
Rose
J amie was flat-out running for the door before you could say “omg we’re in a zombi
e apocalypse!”
The door was swinging closed as the rest of us gathered our senses and quickly followed him out. He was already at the end of the corridor and opening the inner door to take him into the terminal as we desperately attempted to catch up to him.
Karla’s keys jangled loudly as she ran, the sawn-off shotgun held in front of her with both hands. She was a larger woman but she was in better shape than me and wasn’t even the least bit out of breath, whereas I was panting like I’d run a marathon. Or maybe it was the adrenalin. The thought of those things downstairs hurting Sam, my only real ally in this country, was becoming more unbearable with every step. And I knew I needed to pull myself together because I was losing it, and quickly. There was also the worrying thought that I might freeze again, only that time someone would die because of my inability to act.
I felt the touch of something against my fingers, and when I looked down, a hand was wrapping itself around mine and gripping it tight. I followed the hand to the arm and then the arm to the person and found it was Leon. His face was hard and serious, yet his touch was gentle.
“You’ve got this,” he said with a nod, leaving no room for disagreement.
I nodded back, not believing that I had this, that, or anything else. In fact, it felt like I’d lost all bearings mid-flight and they hadn’t quite returned since the moment I peered behind that curtain and watched the bloodshed and horror beyond it. But Leon was right, and I did need to not freak out completely. Things would be what they would be. And surely this nightmare would be over soon, right? Didn’t the US have strategies in place for outbreaks and riots? I mean, that’s basically what it was…just with flesh-hungry humans trying to eat people.
Karla pulled open the door and we all followed her through it and back out into the terminal. There were obvious signs of zombies—blood on the floor and bits of flesh—but no zombies. In fact, I couldn’t hear any screaming or crying coming from Sam or the others so I took that as a good sign. Though it could just have easily have been a bad one, I chose to see the glass half full—mainly because I was bloody thirsty after all that running.
We headed down the stairs, still unable to see anything that led me to believe any of our friends had died, other than the smear of blood across the ground. Jamie was already turning in circles and trying to work out where we had seen them on the monitors. The terminal was huge, with plenty of shops and restaurants and such. There were dead bodies of people never getting up again, and yet as we threaded through the large seating area in the center, I couldn’t help but shiver as we passed them by. Anticipation, I suppose, of them waking up and making a grab for me. And sadness, of course, at the loss of so many lives.
Leon let go of my hand as we finally reached Jamie. He was stood with his hands on his head, turning in circles and looking frantic.
“Where are they?” he begged us, sweat and tears colliding on his face. “Where’s my little girl?”
Karla looked around thoughtfully, checking each storefront. None of us had really noticed exactly where they were; watching people you cared about being chased by a mob of hungry zombies does that to you.
“I think they were heading this way,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced. “That was the pop-up smoothie store. Pop-ups are such a damn thing now. Every time I come to work there’s a new one popping up here or there, just pop, pop, popping up all over the damn place! And it all looks so different now, what with the blood and body parts, and not a soul in sight…”
“Karla!” Jamie yelled her name and she looked at him, her eyes wide. “Can you just find them, please!”
“Yes, yes, sorry.” Her gaze was solemn. She sounded close to tears, like the events of the day were finally getting to her.
I placed a hand on her arm and her chin trembled.
“I don’t normally work this area,” she said, more to herself, I think, than to any of us.
I moved away from the chairs and listened carefully, but only silence reflected back. I scanned the area, my gaze finally falling on the smoothie stand that Sam and Alexa had been stood at. Sam’s smoothie was in a puddle on the floor and I pointed over at it.
“That way, they went that way.” I pointed, visualizing Sam’s movement on the monitor.
“You sure about that?” Karla asked.
“Definitely.”
We all started in the direction I had pointed, with Jamie taking the lead and Akhira taking the rear. We were all armed to the teeth, yet I strangely didn’t feel any better for it. We left the smoothie stand behind us, heading towards the main area of the terminal where the second-level seating area was—where we’d first met Karla and the rest. The sound of talking from further up caught our attention as we passed a duty-free shop, and we broke into a light run until we saw the others. All of them, looking sweaty, bloody, and terrified, but alive.
My face broke into a smile and I ran to Sam and pulled her in to a hug. “You’re okay! We saw you on the monitors and those things were after you!” My words came out in one long stream as I held her tighter.
“I’m okay, we’re all okay. We got inside one of the bars just in time, pulled the rolling gate down to hold them back,” Sam replied, her voice a bit shaky. I couldn’t blame her for that.
“How did you get out?” I finally pulled out of the hug, though I was feeling emotional and exhausted and would have liked to have held on to her for longer. “There was so many of them.”
“Knives from the kitchen,” she explained, holding her hands out for me to see the thin and bloody blades in them. Her hands, unlike her voice, were not shaking. “Took them all out through the slats in the gate. These things don’t have any self-preservation skills. They just kept on coming no matter how many of them we killed.”
I turned and looked at our ragtag group, all hugging each other and looking relieved. All barring Nolan, who just looked dark and broody as he took stock of our surroundings.
“Listen up, people,” Karla interrupted. “I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but there’s a door open to the outside and these things are getting in. We need to get it closed, and secure this place properly if we’re going to have half a chance of surviving the rest of the night.”
“Where?” Nolan asked, all business as usual.
“The Starbucks. It’s a back door, and they’re normally all on auto lock so it should be locking automatically, but it’s not.” Karla looked like she’d only really just thought about that. “Something is stopping it from closing.”
“How do you even know all this?” Trent asked.
“Security cameras,” I said. “Karla got us into the security room upstairs. The cameras are all still working so we could see everything. We came running when we saw that horde chasing you all.”
“Yeah, that was fucked up.” Trent grimaced, his gaze going across to Alexa. “Poor kid could have been killed.”
Jamie pulled Alexa closer to him, his furious glare going across us all like it was our fault.
“All right, well that’s our first mission then: get that door shut! There may be more of those things trapped in here with us, so we need to find them and take them out immediately. Be vigilant—they may be dumb motherfuckers, but they’re relentless. Let’s go.” Nolan turned and started walking back the way we had come, and one by one we automatically followed him.
Like him or not, he was a great leader. And in times like then, that was exactly what we needed. I didn’t think he’d shed a tear if anything happened to me, but I did believe that he would try to keep us all safe, if for no other reason than there was safety in numbers.
If that were true though, I wondered what he would do if one of us wasn’t pulling their own weight or was becoming a danger to the group. My thoughts strayed back to how I had frozen when one of those things had attacked Jamie. And then I thought of Sam…and her wound. A dark shiver trailed up my spine as I glanced in Nolan’s direction. He was looking at me, but looked away when I caught him, and I felt myself pale at the t
hought of what he might do when he found out I’d almost gotten Jamie killed.
“Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale,” Sam said from next to me.
I glanced sideways at her and forced a smile. “Yeah, just this.” I pointed around us. “It’s insane, right? I mean, this can’t actually be happening…but it is. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up any second, and then I don’t and I’m still here, trapped on the other side of the world from my family.”
She reached down and squeezed my hand, and the gentle touch reminded me of Leon. I looked over at him, watching his lithe movements as he walked with purpose next to Nolan. The men were so very different. Where Nolan was tall and broad, Leon was medium height and build. Where Nolan’s hair was short and clipped close to his head, Leon’s was a dirty blond and slightly too long. And then there were their personalities: dark and commanding, or easygoing but focused.
“It’s going to be okay,” Sam said, though when I looked back at her it was blatant that she didn’t believe that. From what she’d said, she’d basically just committed mass-murder. Not that I blamed her of course; in that situation you would have to, but I didn’t think anyone could ever be okay with that. It was the same reason I had frozen earlier: the ramifications of what I was about to do had finally hit me. Sam was able to kill, though, and she still looked sane. At least from the outside. Hopefully, I’d find that strength inside of me and be able to deal with everything as well as she could.
Nolan stopped walking, holding his hand up to silence us all. “There’s the Starbucks. Delivery entrance is usually somewhere in the back, right?” He turned to look at Karla, who nodded in agreement.
Red Eye | Season 1 | Episode 2 Page 6
