Blood Type Infected (Book 4): Betrayal of Hope

by Marchon, Matthew

  Their bodies smash off the front end, bones crunching on impact before they get sucked under and spit out as we fly down the middle of the street. Bright side, we’re going fast enough to dry my beads of nervous sweat before they have a chance to roll down my skin. How fast does this thing go? Because I think that’s what we’re doing.

  They get mauled by the triangular edge on the front of the vehicle. I can’t be sure but I think I’m seeing heads roll off the top like a ramp while their bodies get shredded in the wheels. I can’t crane my neck enough to look behind us but I’m positive I hear severed extremities and discarded corpses smacking off the fuel truck.

  There’s too many to run over. We’re missing half of them. Some are even smart enough to leap out of the way to avoid being hit and run victims. This is not good. Not good. They’re jumping. Shit, they’re jumping to reach us with outstretched hands.

  “Fuck! Noah, they got me! They’re pulling me down.”

  The weight on my back intensifies. Felecia’s death grip around my chest grows tighter as her legs let go. They’re too heavy.

  “Oh my god, there are three of them,” Caylee screams in a panic. “Two are hanging off her belt, one’s hanging off them, being dragged. What do I do? What can I do?”

  The vibrations course through us like electricity. I can feel, as much as I can hear, their bodies being dragged down the street at 50 or 60 miles per hour, getting shredded to bits. It sounds like running a piece of meat over the grittiest sandpaper there is.

  I turn my head back just enough to see what’s going on. His legs have been reduced to mangled flaps of skin. The friction tore his clothes clear off his body, along with his feet. A shoe just slammed off Paul’s windshield.

  “My pants are falling,” she gasps. “They’re gonna pull my pants off. My belt’s stuck on my hips but they’re starting to slide over.”

  “Bench! There’s a bench coming!” Caylee screams at the top of her lungs. “Lift your legs! Lift them, now!”

  Felecia’s grunts are overpowered by the most sickening smack I’ve ever heard. A wet towel snapping off a pile of gravel. His body slams into the bench at the edge of the sidewalk, ripped to pieces, impaled by the boards.

  He snaps in half, his waist down getting tangled in the bench beams while his upper half flips through the air like a punted football. His arms are still holding onto the persistent bastard dangling from Felecia’s army belt. No body, just arms.

  The pressure lessens immediately. But there’s still two more, sliding lower and lower down her body as she kicks and squirms, trying to keep her legs away from their mou–

  “Ahhhh.” Felecia’s blood curdling scream muffles into my back. “He’s biting me! He’s got my knee!”

  CHAPTER 30

  “Felecia, no!” Caylee screams in protest as if her horrified wail might turn back time.

  No, no this isn’t happening. It can’t be. This already happened.

  She was bit. She survived. We managed to pull off the impossible. This can’t be happening again.

  I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. We’re hanging over the road, swinging on a cannon racing through the streets of Sonny–

  The canteen. There’s still saltwater in the canteen after saving Caylee. There’s not much, but there’s enough to save her life. I know there’s enough because there has to be, it’s as simple as that. Two sips. One sip. One drop, it doesn’t matter. There will be enough.

  But neither one of us can exactly let go in order to grab it from the belt slowly being pulled down her waist.

  We can’t lose that belt, that’s all there is to it.

  I am not losing her.

  “Hold on, I’ll be right there!” Caylee grunts, pulling herself onto the roof from her handlebar perch.

  I don’t know what she has in mind, but we need to get them off Felecia before it’s too late. I can feel her writhing in pain, hyperventilating, trying to kick him off.

  It’s not working. He’s too close, his face must be pressed directly against her leg.

  I have no choice.

  I loosen the grip my legs have around the gun turret and hold on by my arms, trying to support the weight of not only myself and Felecia, but these two assholes as well. With a warrior’s roar that would get me banned from Planet Fitness, I lower myself as much as I can, not stopping until I hear their bodies scraping the road.

  It’s not working.

  Their legs are getting shredded to pieces but they’re not letting go. I can’t lower myself anymore without dropping to chin-up position and there isn’t a chance in hell I can hold myself in a pullup with the weight of three people pulling me down.

  All I can do is hug the barrel of the cannon, praying I don’t slip because if I do, they’re not gonna be the only ones getting ripped apart along Main Street.

  From my new, half dangling position, I can see in front of us. We’re coming to an intersection. If I can swing us just enough… I know, I know how stupid this is but what other choice do I have? I can’t wait for whatever it is Caylee’s got in mind. A mouth is clamped down on Felecia’s knee. I’m out of options and losing her is not one of them.

  I rock back and forth on the turret, burning muscles in my abs I didn’t know existed until now. My breathing stops as I force my legs to the side, building more momentum with every swing.

  “Hold on!” I yell down to her, her face smooshed against my chest. “Hold on as tight as you can!”

  Felecia’s awkward grip around my neck and shoulder tightens, her fingers locking together until her knuckles crack.

  Caylee’s shimmying onto the barrel, inching her way closer. She’s climbing out to us, a pained look of determination crinkling her brow as pain shoots through her broken leg. Her eyes meet mine for a second before she squints in agony… and drops from sight.

  Caylee! No, what the hell is she doing?

  All I can see are her knees wrapped around the gun turret. She’s dangling upside down, swaying back and forth, reaching for me until she gets a handful of my vest and begins moving in tandem with us. The canteen, she’s going for the canteen attached to Felecia’s belt. You stupid, crazy, genius!

  “Got it!” she screams, the excruciating pain apparent in her quivering voice. “Leesh, suck in, let your pants fall. Hurry!”

  Her death grip around me gets even tighter as she wiggles her hips while we swing back and forth like a gymnast about to dismount from the uneven bars. The pressure that jolts through us is enough to knock the wind out of me. I’d have choked on my own breath if I were actually able to breathe right now but I’m pretty sure I stopped that the second we began dangling off a damn cannon. The crunching that accompanies the sudden jerking movement sounds like a branch being shoved into a woodchipper.

  It worked! Holy shit it worked!

  His body gets caught between the tires and pulled in. Bones grind to dust as he gets flattened between the wheels of death, pulling Felecia’s camo fatigues down to her ankles in the process. Which means the other one isn’t biting her knee anymore, he’s still holding onto her belt. I feel the vibrations as his body ricochets off the ground.

  We swing outward while passing through the intersection, slamming him into the stop sign, severing his torso in half on contact. His mangled legs and pelvic region crash into the Stryker, leaving a bloodstain smeared down the side of it. At the speed we’re whipping through the city streets, his chewed up body didn’t stand a chance.

  But this fucker’s still holding on. His intestines are draining from his body, flapping in the breeze as he swings through the air, losing vital organs in the process. Her pants are caught on her boots, her blood still fresh in his mouth, and he will just not let go of that belt.

  “Felecia, here, drink,” Caylee pleads, twisting the cap off the canteen while dangling upside down by her legs. She pours it into Felecia’s open mouth before splashing some on the blood covered skin of her kneecap.

  Momentum sends us careening back towards the tire
s, but with half his body missing, he’s not long enough to get pulverized by the giant man eating wheels.

  His string of intestines are a different story.

  They flap into the path of the tires and get tangled in the treads, ripping the bloody rope from his abdomen. It unravels with a grotesque slurping that sends everything once held within his ribcage splattering across the quaint downtown streets of Sonny Valley.

  His hollow torso gets blasted by a telephone pole, bursting like a pinata that’s already been drained of its candy. Body fragments go flying in every direction as we swing back and forth.

  What the hell are we gonna do now? Felecia’s clinging onto me like a baby animal to its mother. I’m barely hanging on and Caylee’s dangling upside down beside us. We must look like a family of opossums.

  “Felecia, please tell me you’re alright,” I beg.

  “I don’t feel it happening. Even when he was biting me, I didn’t feel the infection. I barely drank and I don’t feel it. I’m not turning. I’m okay. Caylee, I fucking love you, you crazy bitch. What are you doing?”

  “Right back atcha girl. I’m just kinda hanging out, you know. Noah, what do we do now? I don’t know how much longer I can dangle here like this.”

  “Okay, I got an idea. I’m gonna try to slide us closer to the base of the cannon. Caylee, I’m gonna have to nudge you along, unless you can do a sit-up from hanging position.”

  “A sit-up, from here, are you nuts?”

  “Caylee, just grab onto me, climb your way up to Noah, then climb up him until your hands are on the cannon. And no, cannon is not codeword for his wing wang.”

  “Which I happen to be dangerously close to right now. What do I do with the canteen? It’s empty, just drop it? Hold on, I can throw it onto the roof. Okay, here I go.” She grunts and groans while pulling herself up Felecia’s body, one hand over the other. “Oh my god are your legs soft. Felecia, what the hell, are you made of silk?”

  “Just keep climbing, you can touch me all you want on the helicopter.”

  “Sorry, sorry, I just didn’t realize you’d be this soft. I’ve never touched another girl. Remember, sheltered life up until now. Hello,” she whispers with a smile, her face inches from mine.

  She climbs my vest like a ladder until she’s hanging from the gun turret with all four limbs, her hair brushing my face before she begins sliding her way towards the Stryker.

  I shimmy my way after her, inching closer…

  Until the cannon turns.

  We all shriek at the same time but I’m just gonna pretend it was the girls because mine was definitely high pitched enough to be mistaken for one of them.

  We’re rotating back the way we came and I don’t know if this is a good thing or not. On one hand, we’re not slamming into the side of the Stryker and getting sucked up in the wheels like those who fell before us, but now we’re pointed at the fuel truck again.

  The door clicks and begins lowering with a mechanical hissing noise. They’re opening the door for us. We don’t need to climb onto the roof. They’re giving us a shelf to drop onto. Oh thank god, because I did not see that ending well. There was no way I could have muscled my way back up.

  Felecia swings her feet until they’re touching, relieving some of the pressure from my arms. She lets go, dropping onto the steel door, as gracefully as can be expected for a girl with her pants around her ankles.

  “Okay, I’m down,” she shouts up to me, wiggling into her fatigues the same way she gets into the jeans she was wearing the day this all began.

  I let go, crash landing beside her on the door certainly not meant for jumping on. A little padding would be nice.

  My breaths come in tiny spurts, looking up as Caylee unwraps her legs and drops down on top of us. We greet her gentle landing with open arms and pull her in for a giant group hug that’s really more of a cuddle in our current position.

  “We’re alive,” Caylee laughs into Felecia’s shoulder before kissing my cheek. “We’re alive. I thought that was it. Felecia Marie Harmon–”

  “Yeah that’s not my middle name.”

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. You hear me? You either,” she adds, poking her finger into my chest. “If this is what you guys do every time you’re out there, you are so lucky this is almost over because I will totally ground you if you ever pull a stunt like that again. I will get little monkey backpack leashes and tie you to me.”

  “I think I can accept that,” Felecia laughs. “Guys, I think we mighta wasted the last of the saltwater. I don’t think I was turning after he bit me.”

  “Oh no, I don’t freakin’ think so missy, not after I just hung upside down from a damn tank.”

  “And I love you for it, you are a certified badass, but I didn’t feel it in my veins like before. I never got thirsty.”

  “So,” I say slowly, “you think we’re immune because we’re already infected?”

  “I don’t particularly want to test my theory, but I don’t think his bite was anything more than a bite. Cayles, when you poured water on it, was there any smoke? Steam? Like boiling water or blowing out a candle?”

  “No. No, I don’t think so. It just sorta washed away the blood. I didn’t see any smoke though. Should I?”

  “We’ve seen it every other time,” I say, finally getting to my feet, despite the fact that I’d rather stay here holding two perfect girls in my arms. “Which means, you weren’t infected because you already are. We already have it. Their blood can’t contaminate us again because it’s still in our systems.”

  “So we really are zombie sisters?” Caylee asks as they push themselves to their feet. “Our blood might be able to save the world. Maybe they can find a cure through us.”

  “Let’s get on that helicopter first.” Neil’s voice startles all three of us, like we forgot there was anyone else here.

  It looks like a bomb went off inside the Stryker. Sami’s got her big brother pinned in the corner. Paul’s dad is on the floor, clutching his arm, blood seeping from between his fingers. Rodriguez is down, the pilot, head tipped back, trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Scott’s doubled over, holding his stomach in pain. What the hell did this kid do?

  Marty makes eye contact with me and shakes his head. “He can’t stay.”

  “What are we gonna do?” Neil fires back, glaring at Marty through his one good eye. “We’re not leaving him out here to die. I can’t even believe we’re discussing this.”

  “We ain’t discussing it.” Marty grumbles incoherently while rubbing the side of his head. I didn’t see it until now but his gray hair is stained red just above his ear. He must have taken a hit as well. “No discussion to be had, that kid is not getting on the helicopter.”

  “Marty–”

  “No!” He cuts Neil off with a swipe of his hand through the air, trying to steady himself as we take a sharp corner. Not sure if I like this wild ride more when I can see it or not. “You work with these kids, I get it, you got a soft spot in your heart for them, I’ve been there. I’ve driven their buses. He doesn’t mean harm, I know, but he nearly got us all killed. What happens when we’re up there?” he shouts, pointing skyward. “When he gets scared or confused and has an episode two thousand feet in the air, what happens then?”

  “He’s a kid, Marty,” Neil shouts, clawing at his hair in frustration. “He’s a person, just like you and me and he deserves to be alive.”

  “But he’s not like you or me, is he? Look at him. Look! Do you think he has any freakin’ idea what’s going on right now? We put him on that chopper, I’ll tell you this, none of us are stepping off alive.”

  “Then I’m staying here with him. He doesn’t get on, neither do me or my brother.”

  “Neil…” Scott shakes his head gravely, not fully on board with his brother’s threat.

  “They took us in last night. They didn’t need to help us but they did. Scott, we owe them our lives, we’re not getting on that helicopter without them.”r />
  “What if we tie him up?” I ask, knowing how immoral it is, but not seeing any way around it.

  “He’s a human being,” Neil says as if I’m a monster for suggesting it. We all stumble to the side on another turn, tension rising as we weigh the worth of a human life.

  “Even tied up,” Scott says, still shaking his head at the idea of staying behind, “what happens when he thrashes around like that again?” He looks at Rodriguez on the floor, finally stopping the blood gushing from his nose. “Sir, you’re the pilot, what happens if he does that in the air?”

  “We’re gonna be weighed down as it is. This is too many people. The space is too small. If he rocks that cabin, and I can’t correct it, we’re going down.”

  “Can everybody just stop talking like we’re not right here?” Sami says with tears in her eyes. “He’s gonna do it again, whether I’m by his side or not. Tying him up will help, but, it’s not gonna be enough. He has to be sedated,” she says, looking directly at Dr Hopkins, sorrow overcoming her brave voice. “If he’s not asleep, the whole way, we can’t get on that helicopter with you. I don’t know what Mom was thinking, she knows small spaces freak him out. I can’t let you die for trying to help us. Thank you for everything, but we can’t go.”

  CHAPTER 31

  “Max, go faster! Push it. We’re losing them.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? This is as fast as it goes.”

  “Yeah yeah,” Norwood yells through the hatch. “Whatever, just go faster. Your name is Max, isn’t it? Well fucking take us to it!”

  Maxwell shakes her head with an aggravated exhale one might expect a dragon to make. She’s telling the truth, I can see the speedometer from here, this thing doesn’t go any faster. We’re pushing sixty with a full load and if this bad boy has an empty light, it’s blinking like crazy right now. She’s had the pedal to the metal since we left the city streets for the rural route up to the dam.

  It’s weird watching the world fly by on a little monitor. It doesn’t feel real. That could be any highway heading into the mountains, and not what I would be seeing if I had a window to look out of.