Twila shook her head. “How could Shari leave me? I’m not ready. It’s my fault. I didn’t learn fast enough,” Twila raved on and on.
Twila was always dramatizing something.
“Mommy, these ones don’t want to be saved,” Twila screamed.
Ella scurried Twila to the chair, wanting to comfort her. A pain jabbed Ella in the lower belly. It was time for the tea, mijo warned.
Scratching at the ladder. Ella peered over the edge of the desk to see a Z fall to the ground. It took out several Zs with it. The Z next in line grappled the rails of the ladder. It lasted four steps before falling. Relieved, she patted her rapidly beating heart. The next Z in line sneered at her. It tossed its head back and let out a long grueling howl. Then, it looked at its hands and held them up for the rest of the horde to see.
It groped ladder. Rung after rung, it climbed, using only its hands. And when its ugly head was level with the top of the desk, oh yeah, she was ready. Ella fired three bullets into its head. It gazed at her with sickening amazement before it fell, knocking down the two below it.
A pain stabbed her from inside out. “Twila, make me some tea. Right now!”
“Oh, no. Did you bring a cup?” Finally, the child seemed to understand their serious predicament.
Crap. That’s what she had forgotten. She happened to see something on the ground. The pencil holder from the desk. “Use that.” Ella pointed, cocking the gun for the next one. Bang! She only used one bullet that time. She didn’t have enough bullets to kill the entire horde.
Twila handed her the pencil holder filled with the shimmery tea. “He wants it.”
But, sadly, Ella couldn’t drink it yet. The tea always put her in a meditative state. She had to remain alert. She glanced at the stacked plastic tubs. “What’s in the blue tubs?”
“Boring books.” Twila grimaced.
Ella tried pulling on one. Too heavy. “Help me empty the tubs.”
Twila gave her an “are-you-cuh-ray-zee” stare?
“Andale!” Ella gasped, trying to ignore the false labor pains. She decided to take a tiny sip of the tea to keep mijo happy.
They could put the empty tubs on the desk, reload them with the books, stacking the tubs to create a wall. It might keep those demons out of the loft . . . until Scarlett and Shari figured out what to do.
Chapter 26
Justin Chen was too weary to be excited when he finally neared the grove of green-budded trees marked on the map. Following the winding creek had taken all day, much longer than if he had just ridden his bike across the plains. He had walked the bike through the muddy creek’s bank the entire way. He should have ditched the bike, but he had wanted it for a fast getaway.
“Yikes, are you following me or what?” The same sleek-black horse he had seen after he had crossed the tunnel splashed by, scaring the “crapola” out of him. Justin parked the bike before sneaking up the gorge. He spotted a lone building about three football fields to the west. The lodge, the map reminded. The cabins should be around the next bend in the creek.
He couldn’t wait for Ella’s adorable crooked-eyebrow expression when he showed up at their door. He patted down his pocket. There it was. He hadn’t lost it. He had looted a fancy gold Archangel Michael pendent, saving it for this day. The day he had relived a gazillion times, imagining her delight, the way her gorgeous brown eyes would light up when she saw it. And him.
He made it to the top of the flat, grassy land. For some reason, Zoat’s howling seemed louder than it had this morning. Must be this cray-cray wind. Ella was probably freaking. “Holy shit!” Three Zs caught him off guard, but not his zombie-slayer knife. He unsheathed it in a nanosecond. His new melee weapon had a ten-inch blade, and he kept it uber sharp.
Slash! Its head plopped to the ground, rolling to his feet. Its nauseous face was stuck in a scream with its tongue lolling about and eyeballs twitching. He kicked it, sending it down the embankment like some ghoulish soccer ball. He wanted to puke, but there was no time.
Next one. Slash.
The last Z let out a long, harrowing moan. Justin didn’t like the sound of it. What are Zs doing here? Then it set in. Three Zs probably meant there was a horde on the loose. It lunged for him. Justin jumped to the side just enough for the blade to slice halfway into its neck. Justin gagged. The knife stuck there. He had to saw away at the neck while it hit at the knife. Finally, he hacked off its head.
As dusk turned the sky orangish-pink, he swore the ground around the cabin he approached wriggled like it was covered in maggots. It had to be Scarlett’s cabin. He crept closer.
Several ghoulish heads bobbled in his direction, twisting like fiends from the Underworld. Their inhuman eyes goggled wider when they saw him. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He wasn’t prepared for a hella-horde. The RFID chips were supposed to prevent hordes. Had Homeland Security already called in a team of Blue Suits and Enforcers? Not if they had been unchipped Zhetts.
Plop, plop. Two Zs hanging from the cabin’s windowsills dropped to the ground, landing on their faces. They crawled his way. He had a few seconds to calculate his best move. He could make a run for his bike.
Shit! With surprising agility, they bolted to their feet. Meanwhile, more had caught on and started dropping off the side of the cabin. He didn’t have time to get the bike. He made a run for the big building, which had to be the lodge. He could make it. He had to; he sure didn’t have enough ammo for a horde.
He forced his feet faster and faster like an Olympian on designer steroids, hoping his feet kept up with his legs. Something poked at his shoulder from behind. He swung the blade without looking. Its pathetic yowling told him he had injured it. X-strains were hella fast. How the heck had X-strains made it into Last State? They were either in Zoat or beyond Last State’s borders.
With each pounding stride, his adrenaline pushed him harder. He shot his gun in the air and yelled to whoever was inside the lodge, “Let me in!”
The door to the lodge flew open.
Three men with rifles fired in his direction. Gunshots exploded around him. He wanted to dive for cover. Better not. He didn’t know how many Zs were riding his ass. “You guys better be freaking good shots!”
“Fuck me, I didn't know Infecteds could run,” one of the men yelled.
When Justin reached the lodge’s porch, he turned around to the field of de-activated Zs. “Guys, thanks! There’s like an entire hella-horde by the creek.”
“Did you say hella-horde?” the grungiest of the men questioned.
“Ye-ah!”
“We got all of ’em,” the man with the binoculars kissing his forehead said.
“I’m serious. There’s like a hundred of them surrounding the cabin by the creek,” Justin warned.
“Them gunshots will bring ’em here,” the grungiest man said.
“Unless, they want who’s ever inside the cabin,” the man wearing a hunter’s vest said. “I’ve seen them do that. Wait.”
And that’s when Justin’s heart seized. They were after Ella, Scarlett, and Twila.
“That must be where the old lady who runs this place is,” the man with the binoculars said, still scanning the area. “Shari’s been MIA since breakfast.”
“You see any more?” the guy in the hunting vest said while frantically loading several rifles, which he lined up on the porch. Ready.
“Nope,” binocs man said.
Justin didn’t know who Shari was, but he needed an angle. Anything, to save Ella. “Guys, we need to save Shari,” Justin pleaded.
“A hella-horde against four men . . .” Rifle man’s voice drifted in the wind. “What kind of drugs you on?”
“I don’t see a cabin,” binocs man said.
“It’s by the creek, hidden behind the trees.” Justin pointed.
Binocs man zoomed in. “Un-fucking-believable!”
“What do you see?” The grungy dude cocked a rifle.
“The kid’s right. It’s a fuckin’ horde. Time to clear out
before Enforcers show up.”
“You're not gonna help Shari?” Justin was shocked.
“Hey, it’s what the old lady gets for living out here alone,” Mr. Coldhearted binocs man said.
The black horse ran wildly between the clothesline and the lodge.
“That stallion’s gone mad,” rifle man said.
“You think it got bit. Could be an Infected,” grungy man said. He aimed, fired. And missed.
“Don’t waste your ammo on a horse,” rifle man said. “I’ll get the truck.”
Justin stood there, gaping at them. “Guys, we’ve got to save whoever’s inside the cabin.”
“I don’t think so,” binocs man said. “I sure as hell didn’t survive the apocalypse with random acts of kindness. Men, gather your gear. We're sleeping at The Ranch tonight.”
“Really, you’re gonna just leave?” Justin spouted in disbelief. He was so close to Ella.
“You sure you ain’t been bit? You’re acting kinda crazy,” grungy man snarked.
The truck skidded to a stop in front of the porch. “You’re welcome to jump in the back,” rifle man said, eyeing the grove of trees.
Justin couldn’t believe they wouldn’t help. The other two men collected the rifles from the porch. The GHOST CREEK HUNTING LODGE sign hanging from the building creaked in a sudden gust of wind. The wind blew cold and hard in his face as if laughing at his dire situation.
The men swung their packs into the back of the truck. “You comin’ or what?” rifle man asked as the men scrambled into the truck.
“No, thanks.” How the heck was Justin going to single-handedly fight an X-strain horde?
“Well, good luck with that.” The truck peeled off, leaving Justin staring at the grove of trees.
He grabbed the compact binoculars dangling from his neck. He zoomed in. Uh, hecka weird. Two Zs awkwardly lumbered around the cabin like a two-man security team. He took in the entire scene, embedding it in his brain so he could visualize every detail later. The two Zs came into view again. Are they patrolling the cabin? He followed them until they disappeared around the far corner of the cabin. Holding his breath, he waited for them to emerge into the viewfinder. He was used to his imagination getting the better of him.
“Holy shit!” Skuzzy heads gawkily cocked in his direction. He ducked behind a budding bush and watched. They sniffed the air and then continued lumbering around. He waited just to make sure it hadn’t been aimless roaming. When they came around the cabin again, he knew. They were guarding the cabin. Which meant someone was inside. Waiting for help. A crazy-scary realization took hold; Zs had learned to collaborate.
In another ten minutes, it would be too dark to see anything. He had to come up with a scheme. Justin dashed inside the lodge. “Hello!” Justin shouted, remembering one of the men had mentioned an older woman.
He checked each of the rooms in the three-story lodge. Nobody was there. When searching the rooms, he claimed the room with the best vantage point to recon the cabin. It was a small room on the second floor with a single bed, dresser, desk, and closet. He could climb down the trellis if he happened to get trapped upstairs. Always have an alternative route. He had learned that one the hard way.
Frustrated and worn-out, he realized he had to wait until morning to try anything. Zs went into a brief slumbering state around dawn. Although, he wasn’t sure the X-strain did. He would find out soon enough. Zs had to rest sometime, X-strain or not. They couldn’t go on forever. He wasn’t so sure.
A harsh reality had taken over the earth since the Super Summer flu had unleashed its un-deadly wrath. He had learned to adapt. How else had he survived? But Ella, how had she made it this long? She would have been voted the least likely to survive a zombie apocalypse. Coping, he thought. Survival of the fittest. Whatever that was. He had survived and so had the love of his life, along with his dear friends, Scarlett, Dean, and Luther, seemingly for no reason.
Sometimes he got this kooky idea some mystical force had united them, something beyond his comprehension. Dude, you’re getting too philosophical. Of course, there was a reason for his survival. Ella. He loved her so much, sometimes he thought his heart might implode. She drove him beyond his limits and had given him hope when once he had none.
That’s it! Ella was the important one. He was just some random dude who happened to be an awesome zombie slayer thanks to all those Xbox games he used to play. He had called it quits the day Dean had found him in Vacaville, California. And that same day had happened to be the first time he had laid eyes on Ella. His life hadn’t been the same since. Fate? He didn’t buy into all that stuff.
Justin stopped reconning the cabin when a wooziness overcame him. He rubbed his forehead and stumbled to the side of the bed. I didn’t do so good the last time. He still couldn’t delete the horrendous scene from his mind’s hard drive: the infant he had de-activated, releasing it from its curse. Their baby had died because he hadn’t found Ella in time. This time he had to save her. He would not be able to live with himself if he failed. Again.
More determined than ever, Justin scrambled down the stairs to the large kitchen. He needed food. He stuffed his backpack with dried salami he found in the pantry. He added the loaf of sourdough bread on the counter, but the big tin of tea kept getting in the way. Curious, he opened the intriguing tin inlaid with colorful stones. It didn’t look like the herbals teas his mom used to drink; this was an iridescent-white powdery mixture. He filled a small plastic container with the powder in case Ella needed it immediately—once he found her.
All the food made him hungry. He checked the fridge and found a crock pot of meaty stew. It still smells good. He stood at the counter, stuffing himself, tossing ideas around, the crazier the better. He willed the cabin scene to come into view. The image appeared. The weird part was he had the ability to rotate the holographic image in his mind, viewing it from every angle. Super-cool.
The cabin’s attic window vividly appeared in his mind. He hadn’t noticed the window facing the creek before. He zoomed in on it. Uh, Ella? He shook his head. The image of a forlorn Ella stared back at him through the gabled window. “Get real, dude.” He swiped the hologram from his mind and then carefully called it back. The silhouette of a figure with a big belly appeared. Ella! Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Chest pains stabbed at his heart. His hand automatically went to his ear. He rubbed the pearl earring he always wore. The one that had helped him find her last year. “I’ll find a way. I promise.” A faint smile wavered on Ella’s lips. She twirled the pearl earring in her ear. Did she know he was there?
He paced the lodge’s lobby, thinking. Okay, so they were hiding in the attic. Smart. He knew from experience a horde could break into a home. Scarlett would know what to do. She had probably boarded over the windows. With a horde that size, he needed help. Should he race back to Boom Town on the bike? No, it would take too long. What if they were out of food and water?
His biggest worry—Enforcers could show up any minute. He hadn’t seen any drones for several hours. Meanwhile, his stomach grumbled. He couldn’t stop thinking about that pecan pie in the fridge. He might as well enjoy it. Nobody else was there. And why had Last State allowed the remote lodge on the outskirts of Zhetto to remain in business? Scarlett must work there undercover. His thoughts rambled on, the way they did when he was freaking out. He forced himself to reign in his angst.
He rummaged through the kitchen drawers for a pie knife, like the pretty porcelain one his mom used to have. He didn’t find one. Heck, he’d just take the rest of the pie to his room. He didn’t plan on sleeping much while he waited for dawn.
He filled his canteens, zipped up his pack, and was ready to go back to his room when he noticed the strands of garlic hanging next to the kitchen sink. Garlic. At his wedding, Scarlett had told him about a hack she had discovered. Garlic disguised the human scent. It would buy him some time. Until they saw him.
His mind churned. The garlic . . . the trees . . . the
attic window. The idea turned into a bona fide plan. He zoomed in on the gabled window again. How close were those trees? He could do it with a rope. Ye-ah right, he didn’t think he’d find a mountain climbing kit in one of the rooms. In a building this big, there had to be rope somewhere. He nabbed an alarm clock from one of the guest rooms. Oh ye-ah, the clothesline.
Chapter 27
Zachary Padilla raced toward Boom Town, concerned over the precious cargo in the back. He slammed the Hummer’s steering wheel with his fists. What was I thinking? The rules were simple. Stay with his men. No exploring without backup. But one hunch had led to another.
The horde had taken him by surprise. He had taken care of the horde all right. He wouldn’t have survived this long if he wasn’t capable of offing an occasional horde. And it was a good thing he had. What a shock his latest find had been. But, his team had left him for dead. His right-hand man, Quentin, had the Satcom, and Zac had left the flare gun in the Hummer.
Zac shot another flare into the sky. His team probably had a good ten-minute head start. He didn’t expect them to circle around again this late in the game. If all else failed, he would catch up with them at the rally point. It was just as well. His unusual cargo might cause problems.
The familiar whup-whup-whup of the Black Hawk hovered into view. His men had come back for him. Lesson learned. Always take the flare gun. The helo made fast work of the horde, blowing them up to pieces. Any survivors would be crawling the desert for the rest of eternity.
A gang of motorcyclists zoomed into the rearview. “Where the hell did those bastards come from?” What did they want with a lone vehicle? He’d been having a disconcerting premonition an ambush would nail him in the end, not a horde or a zomb, not the Elites, and not a freak accident. That left a run-in with a gang of outlaws. And they were riding his ass. The helo would take care of them next.
A streak of fire hissed across the sky. “What the—” The helo exploded into a fiery mass of chaos.
Only The Dead Don't Die (Book 3): Last State Page 23
