“We need something to make it burn faster, we don’t have time for this,” I say, anxiously looking around, hoping for an idea.
“We could syphon some gas or no–” Felecia interrupts herself with a wave of her hand and stares at the pharmacy. “We can create an explosion, a fireball, like we did at the school. That can of disinfectant, when you pulled me from the window. We can do that, down there.”
“Perfect.” I rub her shoulder when she flashes me a warm smile. It sounds corny but it melts my heart. I swear to god, when she smiles, everything is right in the world. Even when this is the world.
“I’ll go get it.” Tyrone takes off for Cold Plus without a moment’s hesitation. “You guys keep them in that hole for another minute.”
“If we get the truck going,” she jabs her sword at the burning hands as smoke pours from the manhole cover, “do we take everyone?”
“I’ve been struggling with it, and, yeah, I think we have to.”
“And we’re sure we want to go to the evacuation center? I’m not saying I don’t, I’m just saying... Despite everything that’s happened, if you want to break away, a group of us, the two of us,” her eyes meet mine and I know she means it, “live out here on our own, I’d be just as happy doing that. We can make it through anything together. Whether that be fighting zombies day in and day out or living under a mountain in some government facility. But I have to admit,” she sighs, “when Marty said the evacuation center would be up ahead of schedule, I was so happy I might have cried a little.”
“Me too. Let’s go.”
“You have to promise me something though. If they try to separate us, we leave. We come back to this life where we can be together. Because Noah, I know it seems out of the blue, three days ago we didn’t even speak to each other, but I need you. You make me feel comfortable, and complete. I don’t know how you do it but you make it easier to be me. You put me at ease and make me feel special, like I’m perfect exactly as I am. And no one’s ever done that before. You make me pour my heart out in a downpour, wearing chainmail, fighting zombies with swords in the middle of the apocalypse and all I can think about is how happy I am to be standing here with you. So just promise me that if they’re going to split us up, we leave.”
“I promise. Two months, two years from now, if this is still going on, and we get tired of life in there, we’ll sneak out through a ventilation shaft if we have to and make a life for ourselves out here. Build a cabin in the middle of nowhere and fence it in and lead the most peaceful existence we possibly can. But right now, we board that convoy of military buses and let someone else do the fighting.”
“Will I be able to rest my head on your chest with your arm around me?”
“Whenever you want, for as long as you want.”
“Then let’s send these fuckers back to hell and get those keys.”
We smile at each other and everything else disappears. The rain stops. The burning zombies go still. The flames swallowing downtown fade to nothing. The war around us ends. I find peace in her eyes, something I never could have dreamed possible. In the span of two days she’s become my everything.
Tyrone runs back to us with a full bag. “I didn’t know how many we’d need. Now what?”
“Back up.” I take one of the aerosol cans from the bag and toss it at the center of the burning pile. The fire is slowing them down but the rain seems to be keeping the flames at bay.
“Nothing’s happening,” he says, defeated after a few seconds. “You think the rain is–”
Boom!
The canister explodes, sending a fireball ten feet into the air. Blood mixes in with the raindrops and showers everything in a twenty foot radius. An ear lands by our feet, still on fire, melting and flaking in a smoky mess.
We race over to survey the damage. The explosion knocked the human tower of zombies over. A pile of them lay twisted and contorted on one another, trying to get back up. With all of them moving at once, it’s not going so well. The pockets of fire are still burning strongly but it’s not enough to immobilize them. We’ll need a big explosion to take them all out at once.
“Tyrone, get ready to drop the bag in the sewer. I’ll toss in the burning board you brought over. Soon as they leave our hands, we gotta get that cover on.”
Tyrone tosses the bag of spray cans into the manhole. I throw the makeshift torch a second later. Felecia’s already trying to slide the cover but that thing must weigh 300 pounds. Between the three of us we manage to drop it in place. Shit, no, we shouldn’t have done that. How the hell are we going to lift it off again? They use a special tool for that, I’m almost positive. They must have the tool in their trucks but I don’t know what it looks like.
The explosion literally shakes the ground as we step back. I can feel it reverberate through my chest. No need to worry about finding that tool, the blast blows the manhole cover off the shaft. It lands a few feet away, cracking the pavement on impact.
A burst of flames emerges from the underground entrance, sending plumes of black smoke billowing into the air. A smaller explosion rocks the sewer a moment later, probably one of the other cans igniting. One major problem, I take that back, two major problems. One, that explosion just alerted every hungry dead person to our whereabouts. Two, how in the hell am I going to know which burnt body is the Delivery America driver?
And shit, here they come already. We grab our weapons and prepare for a fight.
“What the fuck was that?” Shane yells, making his way over.
“They were in the sewer,” I start.
“And now they aren’t,” Tyrone finishes for me. “Help us guard the hole, Noah’s going in.”
“You’re going down there?” He practically does a spit take, peeking into the smoke filled pit. “Why the hell are you goin–”
“The keys for that truck are down there. If I can find them, we might be able to get the fuck out of here. Tyrone, take this.” I hand him my sword in exchange for his morningstar. “With any luck, they’ll all be dead or too burnt to move.”
“Noah, here.” Felecia hands me an intricate knife from a sheath on her belt. “When we were separated, one of them surprised me and had me pinned down, I couldn’t swing my sword, this saved me. It works when they get too close. The blade isn’t very sharp but the tip is. Be careful down there.”
“Thank you, I will. You guys gonna be alright up here?”
“Define alright,” Shane says with a smirk. “We’ll guard the shaft. That sounded gay. We’ll block the entrance, you just worry about finding those keys.”
I grab onto the red hot rungs and begin my descent into the smoky chamber. I can see small patches of fire burning below me but the smoke makes it hard to see anything. The warmth from the flames has me sweating profusely already. I take one last gasp of fresh air and submerge myself in the smoke filled darkness.
CHAPTER 30
The flaming body parts supply just enough light to see, well, the other flaming body parts. They’re scattered throughout the confines of the tunnel, clinging to pipes and slowly sliding down the blood moistened walls. The blanket of thick smoke makes it hard to see the dismembered limbs that litter the floor of the sewer, blown clear off the bodies they were once attached to.
I step off the iron rungs onto a cement pad, coated in a black goop that I assume is burnt blood and other bodily secretions that have no business mixing with fire. The blast must have damaged some of the pipes, the smell of raw sewage is overpowering. It’s making me light headed already. Is this normal? I’ve never been in a sewer before.
A small stream of dirty water is being channeled down the center of the tunnel with a walkway on either side of it, covered in bodies, some of which are still moving. I can’t tell if they’re trying to get up or if the flames are slowly eating away at the muscle tissue, causing the body to collapse in on itself as it deteriorates.
Sweat drips from my face in a steady stream of salty, fear filled liquid. I wasn’t claustrophobic unti
l now and the fire isn’t helping matters any. The crackling makes it feel like the brick walls are crumbling around me. Stop thinking about it. Just find those damn keys and get the hell out of here.
With the sharp end of the morningstar I sift through the remains, hoping he’s right below the shaft. If his body hit the ground, it’d make sense that he’d be at the bottom of the pile, but that’s assuming there wasn’t already a mob of zombies down here.
They all look the same, smoldering torsos with an occasional extremity still attached. They break apart and crumble, layers of baked skin flaking off all over the place. I roll a body off the top of a small pile using the spikes of my weapon. How the fuck am I going to find him in this mess?
A trembling hand reaches for me, so frail that if it moved any faster, it’d probably disintegrate. I knock him off the stack and start removing the second body in the sewer barbecue pig pile. These must be the workers who were in the middle of the shaft during the explosion. They’re less damaged.
Wait, shins. Those are bare legs. The others have fabric mixed in with their burn wounds but this one doesn’t. With a reinvigorated hope I slide another corpse off the pile just enough to expose the khaki shorts. This is him. The utility workers would all have pants on.
I stick my hand into the blackened pile of ash and human remains but pull back immediately. Not a good idea. They’re not dead. Not all of them.
Felecia’s dagger. I pull it from its sheath and poke it around his hips.
Something jingles. Metal on metal. It shifts in his pocket and clangs off the cement floor. Those are keys. I break through the crumbling fabric with the tip of the knife, exposing glimmering silver beneath a thin layer of ash. Car keys. There’s multiple keys on there. One of them has to go to the delivery truck.
I grab them and fly up the ladder as fast as my weakened arms can carry me. The pale light of the setting sun behind the storm clouds breaks through the dense smoke. Cool air envelops me as each rung brings me closer to the surface. I can feel the rain again, coating my skin, washing away the restricted feeling, like removing a heavy blanket after waking up in a sweat.
The damp air fills my lungs as I throw myself from the hole, coughing up smoke, trying not to gag on the sulfuric smell of sewer singed in my nostrils. I held my breath as long as I could but I’m a runner, not a swimmer, all I do is breathe.
I roll over onto my back and let the rain pound down on me to wash it all away, medieval torture device in one hand, jam packed key ring in the other.
A shadow closes in on my eyes, shut tightly to block out the pelting raindrops. Felecia’s soaking wet hair falls around me and all I can see is her perfect face, inches from mine. For as many days as we get to wake up on this planet, this is what I want to wake up to. I watch as a droplet collects on her nose before dripping onto mine.
“You got ’em,” she grins.
“I sure hope so. You guys okay?”
“We’re good. She finished another one, Shane’s got a sword now too. Those hungry hippos didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know why I called them that. Seems fitting.”
“No I like it, Zombies is such a weird word, probably because it starts with a Z. Hungry hippos kinda rolls right off the tongue.”
“I love you,” she whispers, her eyes misting up. Her words bounce off the blonde canopy that’s fallen around us and I just want to hear that echo forever.
I lift my head until my lips press against hers.
“I love you.” The sound of my voice makes her eyes close again, like she’s been dying to hear those words roll off my tongue forever. “Let’s go start our new lives together.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Her veil of heavenly hair lifts and we’re thrown back into a world of destruction and chaos. A world we’ll soon leave behind. I squeeze the keys tighter and stand on wobbly feet. Rest can’t come soon enough. I’ve been running off nothing but adrenaline for the past two days. Adrenaline and hope. Hope that a better future could still exist. A future where I could sleep at night. Where my worries weren’t life or death decisions. Where my decisions didn’t affect the world, or at least the world of those around me. A future that has at least some semblance of the lives we worked so hard to build. A future that’s worth waking up for. That future may not exist, but hope has led me one step closer.
Felecia takes my hand in hers and leads me away from the smoke filled hole in the street. I know we’re walking but my body barely feels it. It’s all taking a toll on me. My body’s beginning to shut down. A two day adrenaline high leads to a crash eventually. But I’m not there yet. We’re so close, but we’re not there. Fight, damn it, keep fighting.
I shake off the exhaustion and pick up the pace. We’re heading towards the Delivery America truck. Tyrone and Shane are closer to the bus, fighting off an incoming slew of soulless cannibals eager to climb aboard. Neil, Scott and Blake are still defending the open rear of the bus from the incoming horde. They’re coming in droves, I can see another group approaching already. This will never end.
Felecia lets go of my hand and swings at a burning body running towards us. The head bounces off her chest and she knocks it away with her free hand as if she’s merely swatting a fly. I jump over the amputated body and we keep moving.
The fire has consumed the flower shop, sending clouds of smoke directly at us, staining the side of the truck a horrific shade of black. The white paint is beginning to blister and bubble from the heat but the front of it, the cab I guess, still looks untouched.
She beheads another incoming corpse with a single swing, so much momentum that she spins around from the force of it. I take the opportunity to run a few steps ahead and jump into the open passenger door, fully expecting to find a bloodthirsty occupant lying in wait. Nobody.
With my weapon ready, I check the back. All clear. I was hoping we’d be able to keep whatever undelivered packages were left but it was too early in the shift, this thing is full. There could be anything in here, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re boarding buses, not building from scratch.
I slide into the driver’s seat and fiddle with the keys while Felecia climbs in. The first key is a no go. Must be for a car, or the back door. The second one slides right in but won’t turn.
Don’t tell me the flames melted the teeth. No no no. I yank it out and hope one of the next two will work. Come on, one of them has to. I can tell Felecia is thinking the same thing by her incessant fidgeting in the seat beside me, as if tapping the dashboard like she’s trying to get its attention might help.
Oh my god it worked. The third key slid right in. The engine turns over. The dashboard lights up. We’ve got a full tank of gas. I have no idea what do now. Is it like a car? Holy shit I can’t believe it started.
Felecia lets out a happy laugh with her mouth open so wide it looks like she’s yawning. “It worked,” she whimpers, choking back tears. “It actually worked. Oh my god, try to put it in drive.”
“Wait, look,” I say pointing at the dash, “there’s an e-brake somewhere.”
“Got it!” she shouts at the top of her lungs as if I’m not sitting right next to her. “Go, go!”
I pull the lever beside the enormous steering wheel and the truck lurches forward. Does this thing need to be so big? I feel like I’m at the helm of a damn pirate ship. My foot presses down on the accelerator and we move, no grinding of gears or anything, I think this is an automatic. I don’t see a stick shift anywhere.
I try to avoid the fallen bodies that line the street, I must look like I’m drunk but I assure you, it’s intentional. The last thing we want is a bunch of body parts getting tangled in the wheels. While I drive, Felecia leans over to play with the switches until the headlights come on. I can hear Tyrone and Shane cheering as we pull up beside the bus.
“Hell fucking yeah,” Tyrone screams, followed by a primal roar that could frighten a pride of lions.
We jump out of the truck, greeted with the girliest of hugs from both of them.
“We did it,” Shane laughs exasperatedly in my ear.
“Oh my god girl,” Tyrone cries, resting Felecia back on the ground, “forget everything I said before. I’m sorry, you’re freakin’ Wonder Woman.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says with a smile, “Super Girl.”
“I know what you did to me you son of a bitch,” Marty laughs from behind the wheel as I climb the steps, “ya knocked me out just so you could feel me up. And set my shoulder on fire you sadistic bastard. Don’t think I’ll forget this.” He puts his hand out for me to shake, grinning from ear to ear. “I know that couldn’t have been easy, but thank you. Your pussy of a doctor friend couldn’t do it, I’d have bled to death by now if it weren’t for you.”
“You’d have done the same for me. Come on, we gotta get everyone loaded in the delivery truck.”
“Maybe not, hold on a second.” Marty looks out the hole where the window should be as Doug and the O’Connor kid close the hood. “Here goes nothing.” He turns the key and the engine starts up after a few sputters. “Freakin’ A, we got it,” he shouts, giving them a thumbs up. “You did good, guys. No time to get everyone moved over.” He points over his shoulder at a marathon of sprinting flesh suits that are quickly approaching. “Time to get the fuck outta here. But we’re bringing that truck, this beast is gonna break down before long, we’ll switch everything over when we hit a quiet stretch.”
“Sounds good,” I say, jumping off the bus, bypassing the stairs completely. “Everyone on, we’re outta here! Hurry! Guys, we’re taking both vehicles, we’ll switch over as soon as we can. Flip a coin, see who drives the truck?”
“Nah, forget it, I got this,” Tyrone says, climbing behind the wheel.
Neil runs over, breathless, overjoyed by our momentary ceasefire. “Where the hell are we going?”
“Shasta Lake evacuation center,” I yell proudly. “Your dad lied, the armored buses are on their way right now. They moved it up a day.”
Blood Type Infected (Book 2): Fallen To The Flame Page 18
