Blood Type Infected (Book 4): Betrayal of Hope

by Marchon, Matthew

  CHAPTER 10

  “Noah.” Felecia wipes the sleep from her eyes, gently shaking me awake. “The tide’s almost out. I think we can go.”

  I know I said I could fall asleep right here on these rocks but I didn’t think I’d actually do it. My belly’s still warm from her head resting on it. Okay, body’s a little sore, rocky ledges do not make the best beds.

  It’s still dark out, even darker now that I think about it. The moon must have set, it was getting pretty low on the horizon by the time we finally dozed off. Did that really happen? Did I make love to Felecia Harmon on a rocky island after surviving the most grueling night of my life?

  Her ear to ear smile as she pulls on her chainmail vest tells me that, yes, it happened and it was as incredible as I remember.

  Before I knew she was planning on professing her feelings for me at prom, I was actually, well, beginning to feel grateful about this whole apocalypse scenario. I mean, yeah, obviously it sucks, but it brought us together. I’m pretty sure I’ve uttered the words ‘I would give anything for her to fall in love with me’ so who knows, maybe this whole thing is my fault. And if it is, I’m sorry. I know God has a twisted sense of humor but I didn’t think my request would bring about the end of civilization.

  “What’s going on in there?” Felecia asks, planting the sweetest of kisses on my temple. “I rock your world so much I made you forget who you are?”

  “Don’t be silly Dora, I know who I am, I’m officer Rick Grimes and we’re in a phone booth on the Millennium Falcon. I’m just…” but I trail off, not sure how to put it in words because it’s so ridiculous.

  “You’re thinking about not going back, aren’t you?”

  Okay, how the hell did she pick up on that in my silence? “You too?”

  She tosses a stone at the emerging band of ledges, illuminated only by the lights from the pier. “Not long after we fell asleep, I woke up. There were a bunch of them on the beach, trying to get to us. They burned. Literal smoke rising from the ocean. Noah, we’re safe out here. Well, not necessarily here, we’re kind of exposed to the elements. I mean, would it kill the island to grow a tree or two? Maybe some grass? It’s just, I don’t know if we’re gonna find a place safer than this. When we step off this rock, we’re stepping back into a warzone. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance, because we both know I should be dead right now. And I don’t wanna waste it fighting every second. When the doctors told my dad they couldn’t operate, he said fuck the chemo and spent his last few weeks with us, as a family. It was either a few extra months of pain and suffering, or one of joy. I was too young to get it, but I do now.”

  “What if we just found the cure?” I ask after a long silence, hoping to find my answer whispered on the waves of the receding tide.

  She pulls her knees to her chest, her wistful gaze locked on the dark shadows lurking along the sandy shore. Their silhouettes roam the beach like they’re searching for seashells to display in their kitchen windows. But they’re not. We know what they’re after.

  “We have to get on that helicopter, don’t we?” The sadness in her voice makes me want to stay on this tiny strip of land for the rest of our lives, as brief as that may be.

  “With what we know now, this could save the world. There’s a chance they can fix this, and everything goes back to normal. Or at least, as normal as it can be. We’re so close. The Stryker can plow through these assholes like they’re nothing, I know it can. Just like back at the base.”

  “We can use chains to pull the tanker out of the ditch,” she says with a heavy breath, her eyes still fixated on the dark figures skulking the shore.

  “We can blow through Sonny Valley. Norwood with us, we can rest a little. It doesn’t need to be just us refueling the helicopter every couple hundred miles. I will gladly live with you on this little ledge. But what I want, more than anything, is the life that we would have started tonight, when you professed your love for the handsomest guy at the prom and begged and pleaded with me to let you cut the mile long line of girls waiting to dance with me and give you just one chance to prove I should give you a shot.”

  “Oh is that how you pictured tonight going?” she asks with a smirk because we both know my story is a bit farfetched.

  “Yeah, something along those lines.”

  “Well, you got one thing right, you would have been the handsomest guy there. Okay maybe two things because the line to dance with you would have been a mile long but I would have thrown every single one of those bitches out of my way and kissed you so hard you wouldn’t have known what hit you until the next morning.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably a more accurate account. Hell, I’m still trying to figure out how we got on this little island to begin with.”

  “I love you,” she says, out of the blue, peeling her eyes from the restless creatures waiting for us on shore. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you and me. But if we can’t, we’re coming back to this island, I don’t care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Come on, let’s go save this stupid world.”

  I grab my sword in one hand and help her up with the other. She doesn’t need it, despite everything she’s been through. You’d never know that a few hours ago, for all intents and purposes, she was dead.

  To my surprise, she takes my hand and allows me to hoist her to her feet. It’s not about wanting my help, it’s about wanting to hold my hand, I can see it in the warmth of her eyes. I don’t know what’s so special about me, why I get to be the one to hold Felecia Harmon’s hand, but I’m not complaining one bit.

  “We should probably stick to the beach, at least until we hit the next town.” I carefully make my way onto the slippery rocks that were submerged when we first swam out to the tiny outcropping. “Bayport’s gonna be overrun for a while, there’s no way we’ll be able to get to a car.”

  “Or…”

  I don’t even care what she says next, we’re doing it, this girl is freakin’ amazing.

  “See that landing stage over there, before those cliffs?” she asks, pointing up the coastline to a small floating dock, lit up by lights that you just know are crawling with big old spiders. “Those are fishing boats. We don’t need to take the roads, we can stay right on the water. It won’t take us all the way to Leyland but it’ll get us close. Dock in Red Haven. Find a car there. Twenty minute drive instead of two hours.”

  “One problem, I’ve never driven a boat before. Is that right, do you drive a boat? Steer it? Float it? Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to start it.”

  “I do.”

  “Wait, is this how you afford all your clothes? Are you a commercial fisherman on the weekends? How do you smell so good? Every time you walk by I just wanna eat you. Not exactly how I meant that to sound.”

  “But not entirely untrue,” she says with a seductive grin, running her hand across my face. “We used to go sailing with my dad. Me and my sisters, we’ve won junior competitions. Well, second place, stupid Fletcher twins. My stepdad, the current one, that’s how he connected with us. Boats. I’ve captained the yacht like a million times. And before you say it, yes, I realize that sentence is a big part of the reason everyone hates me but I can’t help it if my mom has expensive taste in men.”

  “Hey, no complaints from me. If you can get us out of here, I’m all for your mom dating whomever she wants. Though she didn’t want you dating me so I’m a little opposed to her dating opinions when it comes to her daughter.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m kind of a rebel. You were gonna be mine tonight whether she liked it or not.”

  “Was I gonna get a say in the matter?”

  “Nope,” she sings, flashing me a playful smile that counteracts everything going on around us. I don’t know how she does it, but she has a way of making the world disappear.

  Is that a… it is, isn’t it? Why? Why would they do this to us? What kind of a sick prank?

  A half man/half clown is dancing over the waves lapping at his giant feet.
His makeup wasn’t even fully applied, that or he sweat it off chasing down children to devour the morning this all started. Flakes of red and white are peeling off his face, dangling there, mixed with blood and saliva that slap against his cheeks with every snarl.

  The waves splash off his stupid oversized shoes that make me wonder what he’s packing under his puffy overalls. I can’t say I’ve ever thought about a clown’s private parts before but it beats the hell out of thinking about what he’d do if he could get close enough to sink his teeth into me. The saltwater doesn’t seem to faze him, until it splashes onto the chunk taken out of his calf. It’s something about the way it reacts with their open wounds, with the infection.

  He howls and hops backward just enough to keep his chewed up leg out of the water, forgets, and does it all again. I don’t know what they taught this guy in clown college but common sense must not have been part of the curriculum.

  Berkley over here on the other hand, he quickly learned that ocean water is no good. His severed ankle hit the water enough times for him to figure out he’s not a masochist. Okay so maybe he dabbles in it a little. The smoke rising from the burning flesh where his foot should be isn’t enough to stop him from hobbling along the narrow, puddle covered, ledge that leads to Sex Island. Not sure if that’s it’s official name or anything but from this day forth, that is what it shall be known as.

  Every time Berkley’s nub hits a patch of seaweed, or even the shallowest pool of seawater, he winces in pain, growling like his menacing bark will be enough to scare the pain into submission. It must work for him because he continues to hobble towards us, taking comfort in every step that doesn’t submerge his ankle stub in a puddle of holy water.

  How is he not slipping and falling on these slimy rocks? Ten bucks says he plays hacky sack on the quad between classes before taking off on his longboard. That’s why he’s got such impeccable balance. If you were wondering, he’s got on a Berkley sweatshirt, I’m not just making a bunch of academic assumptions based off nothing here.

  He pounces, smoke rising from his mangled ankle where a strand of seaweed snagged onto his exposed bone, burning his flesh like he stuck it in a vat of acid. I can hear it sizzling, even over his emaciated war cry, a mixture of rage and hunger punctuated by pain.

  I swing Doug’s blade with so much force I can’t help but let out a war cry of my own. It takes both hands to wield my friend’s weapon, not because of its size, it’s actually rather small in comparison to my original medieval murder device, but because my wrist won’t ever get better if I keep using it like this. If I had any friends left, they’d all tease me about injuring it from jerking off too hard while picturing Felecia naked but ha, the joke’s on them. I saw it and it’d be worth the sprained wrist.

  The sword meets resistance, slamming into Berkley’s face more than slicing into it like I’d hoped for. If this were Felecia’s katana, or that crazy little machete Norwood gave me, this fool’s head would be split in two. His knit beanie would be floating around in the Pacific by now. But Doug’s Excalibur replica isn’t nearly sharp enough.

  It lodges into Berkley’s skull, stopping halfway like a hatchet trying to chop down a redwood. It’s stuck, the sword’s stuck. I can feel the tension. There’s too much resistance to pull it out. If I don’t let go, I’m going down with him.

  CHAPTER 11

  His slender frame twists in the air before smashing into the band of slippery ledges. I have no choice but to release my grip on the handle and lose my only weapon. If I don’t, I’m going into the water with him. I can’t risk a fall on these rocks. If I break something, there’s no getting out of this nightmare. I am not going to be the guy in the horror movie who finally loses his virginity only to die right after. Not that I was a virgin before this or anything but you know what I mean.

  The strain on my blade loosens a fraction of a second before I let go. Berkley’s face explodes against the barnacle covered rocks, releasing my fallen friend’s sword.

  His body bounces off the narrow land bridge, splashing into the choppy water. A gurgled scream gets drowned out by the sound of his lungs being overrun by the bubbling ocean, plumes of steam rising from his writhing carcass. The rainbow beanie that adorned his head rests in a sizzling puddle, rocking back and forth as waves lap against his severed cranium.

  Monkey see, monkey do. The others must have watched their college educated friend come within inches of finding a meal and decided to try their hand at tight roping along the emerging strip of stone. Even Chuckles is going for it, sick of the waves thrashing against his open wound. I was gonna call him Penny-Unwise but then he opted for the ledge so that name doesn’t really ring true anymore. It was actually kind of a wise decision on his part.

  They’re slipping and sliding and burning their bitemarks in the ocean but it’s not enough to make them turn back. Those demonic eyes are locked on us, gleaming under the lights of the pier, and they’re not willing to quit. Imposing doom isn’t enough to stop them, they’re willing to risk it all. Maybe we’re not all that different.

  “Okay, screw this.” Felecia grabs my hand and leads me into the ebbing tide. “Come on. It’s shallow enough, we can touch.”

  The shock of the cold water makes my testicles retreat, good thing I won’t be needing to use my equipment any time soon. You’d think the waters off California would be warm but there’s a reason the surfers wear their wetsuits this early in the season. It didn’t feel this cold when we jumped in off the pier but I’m guessing that had something to do with our adrenaline and the fact that the cold water beat the hell out of being eaten by a thousand ravenous corpses.

  Was the lake this cold? Because I’m tempted to find a seal, skin it and wear it like a coat with my arms popping out of its cute little flippers. Maybe a walrus, it won’t be as snug a fit, I can wear it like a winter coat. Here walrus walrus walrus. Noah’s got a yummy fishy for you.

  They jump in after us, learning nothing from their predecessor. Flesh bubbles and bursts like a witch’s cauldron, a thick slime of blood and pus congealing on the water’s surface. Steam rises from their decrepit bodies, burning from within as the saltwater enters their wounds and courses through their infected veins. Tormented groans breach their lips as they melt from the inside out, turning into muffled gurgles before dissolving into nothing more than pools of human remains, slowly sinking to the ocean floor.

  It doesn’t take long, maybe thirty seconds before there’s no trace of human life. The only evidence of their existence are the bones that bob around the surface before disappearing in a cloud of blood and sodium.

  A green wig of clown hair slowly floats towards us, rising and falling with the gentle swells, skeletal fragments of a hand caught in its tangled web of saturated fibers. Somehow, it’s even more disturbing than it was when it was attached, if that’s possible. Who in their right mind came up with the idea of clowns in the first place?

  “Remember the pep rally last year?” Felecia asks, a grimace smeared across her beautiful face. “That stupid clown came into the stands and made me a balloon crown. I had nightmares for a week.”

  “Me too. And he didn’t even want to have his way with me in the back of his clown car.”

  “You got that vibe too?”

  “Oh yeah, he definitely wanted you to pull on something other than his endless chain of hankies.”

  “Ugghhh, now I’m gonna have a whole new set of nightmares,” she says with a shudder while wading through the cold water splashing off our chests. We could probably go a little closer to shore but neither of us are leading the way, I think the further we are from these bastards, the better.

  “I never thought about this before, and it sounds weird but, is it hard to be a pretty girl? You know, like, the negative attention it draws.”

  She sighs heavily, shaking her head like she thought no one would ever ask. “It’s so confusing for me, because of my family. But I can’t talk about it because it sounds so shallow and conceited. Yeah, I
mean, sure, it has its perks, but it feels like no matter what you do in life, you only got it because of your looks. And everyone else is thinking it, even if they don’t say it. Even if they know it isn’t true. It doesn’t matter. But you can’t complain about being attractive because how?”

  “Kind of a weird question but…”

  “Go for it,” she giggles with an adorable shrug that turns into a shiver. “What else are we gonna do while trudging through the freezing ocean?”

  “When did you realize how beautiful you were?”

  “I feel like I’m always gonna be the ugly sister. Guys stare at me but in my head, it’s not because they find me attractive, it’s always for some other reason, like they think I’m a slut or something. Honestly, this is gonna sound so stupid, but, when we were in the bathroom together, at that house, right after leaving the school, that was the first time I really felt beautiful.”

  “No, what? Felecia, no.”

  “The way you looked at me, when you were washing their blood off my feet, this dreamy eyed look that you tried so hard to hide. And I tried so hard to act like it was no big thing. But it was. To me, that look in your eyes, it made me feel beautiful, not like I was an easy score they could have their way with.”

  “I didn’t wanna stare, I just couldn’t help it. But you have to know, you are so much more than a pretty face and a sexy body. You really are the most beautiful thing to ever walk this earth but it’s about so much more than just the way you look.”

  “I know,” she says sweetly, barely audible over the waves lapping against us. “I always knew that people said I was pretty, but I didn’t feel like I was. I knew because of what boys said, but it felt more like I was just an object, not a person. I knew I was hot, way before I should have been. But that’s all anyone ever said about me. It was so confusing, that contradiction between being pretty and being the ugly sister.”

  “I can’t believe they called you that. How, your own mother?”