Blood Type Infected (Book 2): Fallen To The Flame

by Matthew Marchon

  Neil’s got his phone to his ear, the one that isn’t bleeding all over him. Does he have Felecia tied up? He must. That’s the only way to explain her biting him rather than using her hands. Does he really think that’s the best way to convince her to forgive him after whatever it was he did? Clearly the lies he’s been feeding her over the last few hours didn’t work. I need to get to her to make sure she’s okay after he pistol whipped her. He’s not even helping Blake get Clay O’Connor’s little brother out from underneath Ms. Higgins. He’s too busy trying to remain in control. He has it. He finally has it. Thanks to a gun. And this is what guns do. Thank you Mr. Buckley for making them and thank you Dad for defending them. I’m not against guns, I’m against people holding them. Because this is what we do with them.

  “Noah? Noah, you alright? Can you hear me?”

  “I hear you Marty. I’m okay. I’m alright. Can you see Felecia? He hit her.”

  “She’s moving. I definitely see movement. I think she’s okay. What the hell is going on? Phones are going off, screaming, gunshots. What the fuck were you doing back there?”

  “Neil’s brother gave me an opening. I tried to get the gun but his phone rang right before I grabbed it. All hell broke loose. Ms. Higgins is dead.”

  “What? Professor Cunt Bucket? You sure?”

  “Her brains are all over the window, pretty freakin’ sure. They’re blaming it on me. We’re gonna be at war with the back half of the bus.”

  “Son of a–”

  “Marty, the phones, Neil’s on his cell. Does this mean they’re working again? Can we call people?”

  “Kid, if the phones are working, it means there ain’t nobody left to call. The towers been jammed since yesterday morning, if they’re working again, everyone who was jamming it up is dead now. Not a good sign. No, wait, scratch that,” he says, smoothing out his mustache, “this could be good. Noah, call your friends, the ones you got out of the school first. There’s a good chance they made it and we’re gonna need all the help we can get if we’re gonna take back control of this rig. And we gotta do it fast before Admiral Asshat makes me drive all the way to Shasta Lake at gunpoint.”

  “What do we do about Ms. Higgins?” I ask, pulling out my phone which was certainly not this cracked the last time I used it. How am I gonna call anyone with this thing?

  “Dammit, you’re right. We gotta get her off the bus.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Tyrone asks, squatting down beside us as I start to get to my feet. “I don’t get it, she’s dead.”

  “We ain’t seen a person die yet,” Marty says, helping to steady me. “Other than death by zombie. We don’t know if she’ll come back as one simply ’cause she’s dead or if you have to be bitten.”

  “Does that even make any sense?” It’s Caylee. She’s stepping down from the seat, bat still in hand. “If she’s not infected, how would she turn into one?”

  “That’s the point,” Marty says, “we don’t know what we’re dealing with here. In some zombie lore, dead bodies just rise, like out of cemeteries, long after they died, no infection. Which would mean this is some kind of natural virus, something all humans are infected with whether you got bit or not.”

  “So then, if she doesn’t turn into one of them,” Caylee says, her eyes bouncing between all of us, “does that mean this is man made? That this is intentional?”

  “Not necessarily.” If anyone would know, it’d be Marty, zombies are kind of his specialty. “But say she does come back, that would rule out the chance of it being human manufactured. Unless of course it’s chemical in which case we’re all infected and will turn the second we die, no matter how it happens. Basically, we’ll still have no idea what this is, but we’ll know if we need to worry about dead bodies that weren’t bitten.”

  “Hold on,” Tyrone says, putting his hand up, “you’re telling me, if she turns into a zombie, that means every dead person out there is rising from the grave to try to eat us. Please tell me you’re fucking with me right now.”

  “Wish I was, kid. Wish I was. Come on, gimme a hand, we gotta get her off the bus. Noah, make the call, get them onboard, we need reinforcements. Now,” he adds, looking towards the back of the bus where they still outnumber us, but barely. Two down, if we add my group of friends, we have control. Well, except for the small issue of the gun. And the fact that Darius might not be on our side, but then again Scott isn’t really on theirs. I think.

  I disobey Marty’s direct order and try my mom first but it goes straight to voicemail. For a second, and only a second, I think about calling Dad, but scroll past him and click on Paul’s name instead. I haven’t talked to my father in months, I know he’s mad at me for choosing Mom’s side in the divorce but he replaced me long before she replaced him. Dad wasn’t there for her, Burt was. He was there for her in the hospital after the shooting, hell he was the one who took her home. Where was Dad then? Should she have cheated? Of course not. But can you blame her? The fact that I would turn down a life of luxury with him in the city to live with my mom in a tiny apartment in the suburbs with no money, it was a slap in the face to him. I doubt he’d even answer.

  “Who is this?” Paul answers timidly on the fourth ring. It sounds like he’s been crying. This can’t be good.

  “Paul,” I manage to choke out in a breathless whisper. “It’s Noah.”

  “Noah’s dead. Who the hell is this and how do you have his phone?”

  “No, Paul, it’s me. I’m not dead. I wasn’t infected. I’m okay.”

  “What?” I can practically see him pull the phone away to look at it with that signature quizzical look of his. “Noah, is this really you? No, I watched you turn.” He sounds like he’s speaking to a ghost he doesn’t even believe in.

  “I faked it so you’d leave. Sorry. It turns out I’m alright, well sort of. We’re on Marty’s bus. There’s a bunch of us.”

  “Holy shit, Noah, you’re alive. Guys,” he yells away from the phone, “it’s really him. He’s okay. Noah,” he continues, “I’m with Shane, Kristen and Doug. We’re okay. We got out of the parking lot right before all hell broke loose.”

  “Man am I glad you guys are okay. Where are you?”

  “We’re uh, well, actually we’re at Hyde Lake. We were just saying our goodbyes. Noah, you just interrupted your own funeral.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  “We put that photo booth picture of us on this little raft and set it on fire, I’m watching it burn out in the lake right now. Doug was about to say a few words. We thought you were gone.”

  “Don’t say anything too nice, I’m not dead yet.”

  “I can’t believe you’re alive. We were driving by the lake and thought of you. Remember the island we used to swim out to, with the cabins on it? We’re right there, at that little beach. We heard about this safe spot at a church, the National Guard was supposed to be there or something. We got there last night but there were hundreds of dead people swarming the place. Noah, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you have enough gas to get back to town?”

  “Half a tank.”

  “Okay good. Things are getting bad on the bus. Neil’s here.”

  “Buckley? What’d you save him for? And you let him on the bus with you, you know he hates you.”

  “Look, a lot of shit went down, he’s got a gun. He wants to go to Shasta Lake.”

  “So do we, but the evacuation center’s not open yet. There’s nothing there, we just talked to a guy who came from that direction trying to find his kids. He said survivors are piling up at the park but the camp isn’t set up yet. It’s just a bunch of scared people sitting there, waiting.”

  “I know, that’s what we’ve been trying to tell him. I’ll try to stall, but you guys gotta get here fast. We’re gonna need weapons so I’m thinking about–”

  “Noah, don’t worry, we’ve got two guns. We found them here on the beach, they’re loaded. I can’t believe someone left them like that.”
<
br />   “That’s because bullets don’t work on these things Paul. Whatever you do, don’t try shooting them, it’s pointless. Save the bullets, we’re gonna need them.”

  “This is really bad isn’t it? Like really bad.”

  “We’re gonna be alright. Meet us at, um, you know what, that Cold Plus pharmacy, by the fountain. I should be able to convince Neil to let us stop there for supplies. Get there as soon as you can.”

  “Okay. Noah, I’m so glad you’re alive. We’re on our way. Hang tight buddy.”

  I hang up while stepping out of the way. Marty and Tyrone do not look like they’re enjoying this one bit, I think Tyrone’s got his eyes closed as they half carry, half drag Ms. Higgins body down the aisle.

  “Big problem Noah, big fucking problem,” Marty whispers under his breath while walking by.

  “Alright, everybody listen up,” Neil shouts from the back where everyone is still in horrified shock. “Slight change of plans. Before we head to the evacuation center and get the hell out of this mess, we’re going to Redwood Industrial Circle. We’re picking up my dad.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Oh you’ve got to be fucking shitting me. Mr. Buckley’s alive. We can’t let him on this bus, there’s no telling what that lunatic will do. We’re better off making a run for it. But out here in the open fields, we’ll be nothing but target practice for Neil and his precious gun. Aiming a weapon doesn’t make you a leader, it makes you a tyrant.

  “You two, drop her. Now,” he commands, aiming his gun just to punctuate my point. “This one’s on Noah. So he’s gonna do it. Alone,” he adds, moving towards us, dripping of arrogance that wasn’t there a couple minutes ago. Now that daddy dearest will be joining us, Neil’s ego is through the roof. “And when you’re done Britton, you’re getting tied up too so you can’t try to pull another stunt like that. What you did cost Ms. Higgins her life and you’re gonna pay for that, but first we’re picking up my dad. Don’t think for a second that you’re off the hook. You just murdered an innocent woman.”

  “You should kill him now,” the quiet girl manages to squeak out, rage in her eyes.

  “Do it Neil,” yells one of the other kids, some jock I’ve barely heard speak until now. He’s certainly never spoken a word to me yet he clearly wants me dead. I find myself wishing more and more that Neil would have gone through with it and kicked me off the bus.

  He’s holding his injured ear but it looks like he’s trying to block out the voices. I can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do. His followers clearly want me gone and he can’t risk losing their support. Yet, the one thing he wants but doesn’t have, the one person he wants so desperately to impress, will never forgive him if he does what he wants to do to me. Felecia or his followers? Who does he appease? The internal struggle is tearing him apart. I don’t think he knows which he wants more.

  “That’s not justice,” he says eventually, trying to justify his unpopular decision to let me live with something other than the girl I have a crush on doesn’t want me to kill him so I can’t. “That would make me just as bad as him and I won’t stoop to his level. Move it Britton, now. You wanna kill an innocent old lady, fine, you can get rid of the body too.”

  Well, at least there’s only about ten feet to go. That’s not so bad, unless she reanimates. I try dragging her but my wrist is in too much pain. It keeps buckling under the pressure and giving out on me. The bandage helped when I wasn’t using it but this just isn’t working.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts. “That’s no way to treat the deceased, especially the ones you killed. Pick her up and carry her off the bus you disrespectful piece of shit.”

  “Neil, no,” Felecia says, standing in her seat. I can clearly tell now that her hands are bound behind her back. “What if she turns?”

  “You know what that’s called babe? That’s called poetic justice. And I’m hoping she does. Now pick her up and carry her.”

  I do as I’m told. Honestly, it’s easier than dragging her with my bum hand but probably isn’t quite as safe. With her limp body slung over my shoulder, Felecia’s right, if Ms. Higgins turns, she’ll take a bite out of me before I even know what’s happening. I wonder if Neil would really shoot me. I can’t risk it with all these people counting on me.

  He follows me all the way off the bus, never lowering the only power he has.

  “Dig her a grave you asshole!” the quiet girl screams through the window. Suddenly she isn’t so quiet anymore. Doesn’t she realize I didn’t actually kill Ms. Higgins? Do they just need someone to blame for all this and it so happens to be me? The fact that they’re alive right now is my fault, but when I saved them, how was I supposed to know this was what they’d be subjected to? I didn’t know what was going on. I thought I was doing the right thing.

  I look to Neil to gauge his reaction. Will I be digging a grave? We don’t even have a shovel, though I bet one would come in handy for more than digging holes. Those old barns across the field must be full of tools. He looks conflicted, again trying to decide who to cater to.

  “Put her down by that fence and get on the bus,” he commands with a faltering self-assurance.

  “No, screw that,” the O’Connor kid shouts, unable to get his fat head through the window like the formerly quiet chick. “Make him bury her properly Neil. She died on top of me, her blood is on me. Don’t let him get away with this.”

  “We don’t have time,” Neil whines, “my dad’s waiting on us. His building is surrounded by those things.”

  “Neil,” Blake calls through the window, “just leave him here. Fuck what Felecia wants. Leave her here too. Trust me bro, she isn’t worth it. He killed Ms. Higgins, it isn’t safe to have him on here with us, even if he is tied up. Leave him.”

  I can see Neil looking back and forth between me and Felecia’s face in the window. He’s got no clue what he’s supposed to do. If he loses her now, he loses her forever. What are the chances they get reunited in some zombie refugee camp on the other side of the world where hopefully the infection hasn’t spread? He pretends not to but he has a heart, and it beats for Felecia. I used to think it was because she’s the hottest thing ever but after the last 24 hours I’ve realized it’s so much more than that. I’m not sure if he sees in her what I do but I more than understand why he can’t let her go. The privileged prince needs his princess. But at what cost?

  He yells at the top of his lungs. It echoes over the dewy fields in the earliest morning sunlight. His gun is finally not pointed at me while he clutches his bleeding head with both hands. She really did a number on his ear.

  “Dude, she bit a piece of your ear off,” Blake shouts. “I’m telling you bro, bitch is insane. You don’t get rid of them now, we’re just gonna have to do it later. You heard them, they don’t wanna go to the evacuation center so you know they’re gonna do everything they can to stop us from getting there. Noah, I’m sorry man, I know I’m only alive because of you but you’re going crazy bro. You’re gonna get us all killed. I appreciate all you did for us and I hope you survive out there but we can’t have you on here with us.”

  “Hold on,” I shout, dropping Ms. Higgins from my shoulders. “You’re telling me that between me and the lunatic with a gun who wants to pick up Lunatic-With-A-Gun-Senior, I’m the threat? You think Big Bad Buckley will want to go to an evacuation center and let someone else be in charge? He’ll have you all slaving away on some compound by nightfall!”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Neil pleads, desperation in his voice, terrified his power is slipping away already. “My dad will know what to do. He’ll know how to get us out of this. Are we gonna listen to him or some quitter who couldn’t handle the pressure on the track? Someone who couldn’t hit an animal in the forest with a fucking machine gun if his life depended on it? I know him and he is not a leader. He walked away from track. He walked away from hunting. And now he’s gonna walk away from us.”

  “I didn�
��t walk away from either,” I say calmly, “your dad pushed me away.”

  “Bullshit Britton!”

  “In your heart you know it’s true. You were there Neil, you know.”

  “No,” he says with an incredulous shake of his head. “No, no, what I know is that we’re done with you Britton. You’re off the bus. We’re going to that evacuation center, you’re staying here. Have a nice life,” he adds while boarding the bus, “whatever’s left of it. Oh, and if I were you, I’d get digging that grave because when we come back through here, if there isn’t a six foot hole, I’m killing your little mamacita.”

  “We ain’t leaving him here,” Marty protests.

  “You’re right,” he says in that maniacal voice that means he’s starting to crack. “We’re leaving them here.” Through the windows I can see him march to the back of the bus and grab Felecia by the hair. “You want to be with him so bad? Fine, you ear biting psycho.”

  Caylee tries to stop him as he drags Felecia down the aisle but he smacks her hand away with his gun. I get ready to rush the bus but Tyrone jumps to her aid, she’s in good hands. He’ll protect her, I know he will.

  Neil doesn’t even bother to look back. He’s losing it. I know he is. Does he realize I’m right? There is no way in hell his dad is going to that evacuation center. I didn’t say it to mess with his head, I said it because it’s true. There is no way he’s going to take orders from anyone. And when he steps on that bus, it means Neil will never have the power again.

  With her hands bound behind her back, there’s nothing Felecia can do except kick and scream while he drags her across the floor by her hair. He continues down the stairs, bouncing her body off each step. She’s dumped unceremoniously onto the pavement, face down. My first instinct is to rush to her side but I must be too close for comfort. He aims the gun at me. I stop dead in my tracks as he spits on Felecia, something he would never ordinarily do. This isn’t him, this is the influence of his father. He is going to regret this moment for the rest of his miserable life.