Behind her, Red slammed on the brakes, and the tires squealed across the tar as he slid to a stop. Amy glanced back, bathed in the glow of his headlights. There was no time to waste. He’d be after her within seconds. I must find a place to hide.
Amy forced herself to her feet and sucked in a couple of deep breaths. The oxygen revived her, and she cast around for a means of escape. Her eyes fell on a wide swathe of trees, and faint hope filled her chest. Perfect.
She broke into a slow jog, angling toward the forest. The sound of slamming doors announced that Red and his men were in pursuit. She wanted to run faster but couldn’t risk a broken leg. The moon shone overhead at half-mast, its silver glow bolstered by a thick carpet of stars. It lit the way, and she crossed the ground in a low crouch.
The small forest welcomed her into its whispering depths. Grey tree trunks rose around her, and thick foliage swayed in the cold breeze overhead. A carpet of dead leaves and muck cushioned her feet and silenced her steps. The scent of decaying plant matter and fresh dirt flooded her nostrils. It felt like home.
Amy knelt down and placed one hand on the earth. Any lingering fear leached out of her body and into the ground. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax. If she hoped to escape, she needed to keep her wits about her.
It didn’t occur to her to be scared of the woods. She’d spent too many days and nights camping and hiking in the forests around her home to be afraid. The true danger she faced was hypothermia. She’d have to keep moving to keep warm until she could find better clothes. Also, if she hoped to make it back home, she’d need camping and cold-weather gear. Weapons too.
There was the possibility of zombies as well, but she didn’t think it likely that many would be wandering around the trees in the bitter cold. They preferred urban areas and warmer climes. She just needed to keep her guard up, and her eyes open.
Red and his two soldier buddies crossed the open field toward the forest. They were slow and clumsy, stumbling and cursing like a trio of bull elephants. Their thick-soled boots hampered their strides, much to her amusement.
Amy watched their progress for a couple of minutes. Her harsh breathing smoothed out, and her frantic heart slowed in her chest. Finally, she was ready to move on and got back to her feet once more. She turned to face the woods with rising optimism. She was confident she could lose her pursuers in its depths. In there, she was in her element. A ghost.
Chapter 6 - Tara
Tara had Perez pinned to the ground, her entire body lying across his chest. King was down as well, both hands wrapped around his damaged knee. His face was contorted with pain, and she allowed herself a quick grin of satisfaction. She’d landed a solid kick, and something had gone crunch at the moment of impact. While she might not be a doctor, she knew he was severely injured.
With King out of the way, she returned her attention to Perez, determined to hold him down. She had to give Amy a chance and watched as the girl ducked past Red’s henchmen. Tara had to give it to her. Her younger friend was both fast and agile. To their chagrin, the soldiers failed to catch her, and she disappeared into the night. Run, Amy. Run!
It wasn’t over, however. Not by a long shot. Even as Tara watched, Red roared down the road in his truck at full speed. The soldiers gave chase while King screamed out conflicting orders. Thus far, Bannock had failed to put in an appearance, tucked away in the front seat where it was safe and warm. Coward.
A sudden blow to her jaw caused lights to explode before her eyes, and Tara lost her grip on Perez. He tossed her to side and crawled to his feet, his face purple with rage. He aimed a kick at her ribs, and she gasped as the breath left her lungs in a whoosh. A second kick sent agonizing pain lancing up her side, and she was sure he’d cracked a rib. With both arms wrapped around her body, she curled into a tiny ball. “Stop, please.”
“Leave her, Perez,” King commanded, “Much as I’d like to see her suffer, we need her whole and in one piece.”
Perez stopped mid-kick. “Fine, but she’d better behave from now on.”
“Just help me up and into the van,” King said.
“Stay there,” Perez ordered Tara with a pointed finger before helping King back to his feet.
King stood with his injured leg bent in the air while nursing the knot on his forehead with one hand. The knee Tara had kicked was swollen to twice its size already, and he couldn’t put any weight on it. With a muttered curse, he leaned against Perez and hobbled to the passenger side of the van. “Just find the girl, Perez, and keep that woman out of my sight.”
“Yes, Sir,” Perez said as he helped his boss into the front seat. Bannock was there within moments, offering his assistance with a schmaltzy smile.
Tara watched the three for a few seconds, her lips twisted with disgust. As ever, Bannock struck her as a supreme coward, unwilling to risk even one hair on his head. Like a rat, he scurried around looking for favor with those he deemed more powerful than himself.
As for Perez and his men, they were the ultimate traitors. After King and Bannock fled, they pleaded allegiance to Nick and Fort Detrick, only to betray them at the first opportunity. Even worse, there were at least two more such men back at the base. Silent moles tucked away until King saw fit to use them in his next attack. We have to warn the base. Everyone is in danger.
For the moment, Tara was alone and unobserved. She considered running but realized she wouldn’t get far with her injured ribs. No, she had to trust Amy. Trust that the girl could make the journey back to Fort Detrick in one piece. She can do it. I know she can.
After a few seconds, Tara crawled to her feet, prompted by the bitter cold. Her hands and feet were numb, and her teeth chattered nonstop. With Amy gone, she had to look after herself now. Who knew what she faced in the future?
Ignoring the ominous look Perez shot her, she rummaged through the supplies in the back of the vehicle. Piece by piece, she located her things and got dressed over her pajamas. Woolen trousers, socks, boots, gloves, a jersey, and a jacket completed the ensemble. Then she tied her hair and tucked it into a beanie before strapping on a belt.
Next, she looked for the first-aid kit. After wrapping several bandages around her ribs, she cracked open a bottle of painkillers and swallowed two. The rest of the pills she tucked into her pocket. She’d need them later on.
She sorted the rest of her and Amy’s belongings into two backpacks. Hers contained the rest of her clothes, a towel, toiletries, and a couple of notebooks and pens. To this, she added Amy’s sewing kit, a blanket, a pillow, a couple of packets of trail mix, and a few bottles of water. She wanted to be prepared for anything.
Amy’s things were different. Besides the usual clothes and stuff, there were also a couple of books, a photo album, a jewelry pouch with a ring in it, and a Johnny Cash CD. Paging through the collection of photos, Tara got a lump in her throat. Pictures of Amy and Alex posing with their parents abounded. They looked so happy. Their smiles were warm and genuine. Not faked or strained like you often found in so-called ‘perfect’ families. It explained a lot about their personalities. The reason they were so open-hearted and kind.
Tara knew that these were cherished belongings. The ring used to be Amy’s mom’s wedding ring and the CD, her dad’s favorite.
For that reason, Tara would make damn sure that nobody, not King, not Bannock, and certainly not that ape called Red touched any of it. I’ll keep it safe for you, Amy. I promise.
After placing the bags to one side, Tara created order in the van. She packed all the food and water in neat rows before making a soft nest for herself out of extra pillows and blankets. As she worked, her fingers encountered a screwdriver, and she froze. The tool was as long as her hand, the edge flat, and the handle sturdy. King’s men must not have noticed it between all the other stuff.
With a quick look around to make sure no one saw, she slipped the object into the bandages wrapped around her torso, right between her shoulder-blades. Hopefully, no one would think to look for it
there. It made her feel more confident knowing she was armed, even if it was just a screwdriver.
Once Tara was finished, she tucked herself into her warm nest and sipped on bottled water. After a while, her body stopped shaking, and her extremities warmed until she could feel them once more. She was good for the moment. Warm, comfortable, and relatively safe. Even zombies couldn’t get to her inside the back of the van.
With nothing else to do, she watched her kidnappers through the windows, following their every move. King sat in the front with his bad leg propped up on the dash while Perez paced the road with frustrated rage. He caught her eye once and snarled, “What are you looking at?”
Tara shrugged and looked away. He didn’t scare her. Besides, it amused her that things weren’t going their way. Every time he talked to Red on the radio, the news was bad. Amy continued to elude them despite their best efforts.
With a faint smile playing on her lips, she lay down and closed her eyes. Despite being worried about Amy, sleep beckoned to her exhausted mind and body. It had been a long night, and it was still far from over. She might as well grab a few winks while she could. Bit by bit, her muscles relaxed.
The last thought she had before falling asleep was that it would have been nice to have a few keepsakes as Amy did. Something to remind her of her family. But she had nothing. The Congo had swallowed her whole and spat her out naked. She’d barely escaped with her life, and if it weren’t for Saul, she wouldn’t have made it at all.
***
Tara ran as fast as she could, her boots slapping on the tarred road that led to the Antonio-Agostinho-Neto International Airport. They’d lost their transport a couple of miles back at a roadblock. When the terrified police refused to let them pass, they were forced to continue on foot.
It was chaos.
Pointe-Noire was under attack, both by the infected and its safety forces. Army personnel raced through the streets, firing at random. As many innocents fell before their bullets as zombies did.
Looters ran amok, smashing windows and stealing valuables that would serve them little in the future. Gangs roamed about, and more than one woman was dragged into a side-alley to suffer a fate worse than death. Groups of infected prowled the streets and pounced on anything that had a pulse. The heavy tang of blood, guts, sweat, and fear hung in the air. It added to the haze of smoke that belched from the burning buildings above their heads.
Saul ran ahead of her, along with two of his men. Together, they cleared a path for the rest of the party. People were shoved out of the way without pause or mercy, and anything that looked infected was shot on the spot. The rat-tat-tat of gunfire assaulted her hearing until she thought her head would explode.
“Come on, Tara. We’re almost there,” Saul called to her over his shoulder when she began to falter.
She sucked in a deep breath and willed her legs to move faster. Every muscle in her body ached, echoing the burn in her lungs. A stitch stabbed up her side with each step she took, and Tara knew she couldn’t last much longer.
Three more soldiers surrounded her, among them Johannes. He’d taken up the role of Saul’s right-hand man since they lost Mokoena to the murderous villagers back at the river. He was a good man. Loyal and brave.
He proved that loyalty now by mowing down anything that came close to her. Zombie or not, it didn’t matter, and his rifle gave a full account of its destructive capabilities. He’d given Saul his word that he’d protect Tara with his life. They all had, and now they were paying for that promise.
A woman burst through a shop window in a shower of razor-sharp glass. Blood streaked her skin, and she growled with unearthly rage. Her hands reached for Tara, who screamed in terror as she threw up her arms in self-defense.
Vusi, one of Saul’s men, threw up his gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened as it clicked on empty. With a wild yell, he launched himself at the woman, and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs. He slammed the stock of his rifle into the woman’s face, but she was as fast as a snake. Her teeth clamped down on his wrist, tearing a chunk of skin and sinew from the bone.
Tara stumbled toward them, her heart stuttering at the horror of it all. Vusi shook his head and yelled. “Run!”
“No,” Tara cried, reaching out to the soldier. She knew he had a family back home: two young sons and a wife who waited for his return.
His eyes fixed on hers, liquid with pain. “Run, doctor. Save my family.”
Before Tara could protest, Johannes grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away. A couple of bullets from another’s soldier’s gun ended the lives of Vusi and his attacker. Small mercy.
Dragged along by Johannes’ steely grip, Tara could do nothing but run. They’d covered barely a few yards when a knot of infected streamed out of a side alley and attacked. Two more of their number fell, throwing themselves between the zombies and Tara. This time, there was no chance to dispense any mercy. The soldiers disappeared beneath the teeth and nails of the monsters intent on ripping them apart while their hearts still beat in their chests.
Johannes never faltered, ensuring that she kept moving no matter what. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stumbled forward on numb legs. Her mind flashed back to Vusi and the others. They’d given their lives for her, those soldiers. They’d known she was humanity’s only hope of survival. Within her brain lay the answer to the plague that threatened their world and their families. For that, they’d sacrificed themselves.
With a cry, Tara collapsed to the ground. She couldn’t go any further. Her body refused to move even one more step. It was all too much horror for her mind to process. “I don’t want anyone else to die for me. I never did.”
“Tara,” Saul cried, shaking her shoulder. “Get up. You have to run!”
Tara’s head lolled back on her neck, her eyes closing as she gave up the fight. “Leave me.”
“Leave you?” Saul cried in disbelief. “After we’ve come all this way?”
“Yes, I can’t go on. I’m done,” Tara protested, slapping away his hands.
Saul paused to shoot at something behind her, and a screeching man slid to a bloody halt next to her on the tar. Even that couldn’t get her moving, and she sat frozen in a puddle of misery and fear.
Suddenly, Johannes was there, his expression enraged. He slapped her across the face and said. “Get up. Run. Those men, our friends, died for you, and you will not give up. Not now. Not ever. You hear me?”
Tara blinked as his words sunk in. Horror filled her at the thought that she’d been about to throw away the men’s sacrifice. I can’t do that. I have to make it all worth it somehow.
Gritting her teeth, Tara pushed herself upright. “I’m sorry. Let’s go.”
Johannes eyed her through slitted lids before he nodded. “Good.”
Together, they turned back toward the airport, now only a few hundred yards away. As one, they set off, clustered together in a tight knot. Of their original number, only four remained. Three soldiers and one scientist, but it would have to be enough to save the world.
***
Tara jerked awake with a gasp as a loud bang rang through her head. For a moment, she had no idea where she was, her mind still swirling with images of the Congo and Pointe-Noire. Then she remembered everything that had happened, and anger rushed through her veins. Who were King and Bannock to play with the lives of people as if they were gods?
She eyed Perez through the window of the van. He was on his radio, and it seemed the news was even worse. Still no sign of Amy. He kicked the side of the vehicle again, and the bang rang through her head like a bell.
With gritted teeth, Tara stared at the man. After a few moments, her gaze slid first to King, then Bannock in turn. She wanted to remember this moment in the months to come: The moment when she decided to fight back instead of sitting around and waiting for rescue. She’d made a promise to Johannes and the other soldiers never to give up or surrender and she wasn’t about to break it now. She’d come to far.
I survived the outbreak. I survived the Congo. As surely as the sun rises in the East, I’ll survive this too.
Chapter 7 - Amy
On silent feet, Amy weaved through the trees. Now and then, she’d glance up at the sky. Fort Detrick lay to the north, and she had to keep moving in that direction. The forest canopy blocked her view, however, and she couldn’t locate the North Star. Nor did she have the time to climb up a tree or look for a clearing. Red and his buddies were right behind her. I need to move faster.
With the treetops blocking most of the light, the way ahead was shrouded in darkness. But her eyes adjusted after a few seconds, her pupils expanding to catch even the tiniest glimmer or shine. The deep gloom faded to a murky grey, and she picked up the pace.
The carpet of dead vegetation and mud beneath her feet silenced her steps and provided cushioning to her tender soles. She was able to move with little sound, each step putting more distance between her and the soldiers. With one arm raised to fend off sharp branches, she cut her way through the woods at a swift jog.
After she’d covered roughly a mile, Amy paused to listen with her back pressed to the trunk of an old oak tree. Her pursuers had fallen behind and were no longer right on her heels. They’d spread out, hoping to cover more ground and called to each other across the distance. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint each one’s location. They crashed through the brush with little regard for the noise they made.
Amateurs, Amy thought with a satisfied smirk. They’re not used to the outdoors. It’ll be easy to lose them in these woods.
With newfound determination, she set off once more, settling into a smooth jog. As she ran, she kept her eyes and ears open. Every sense was on high alert. Not only did she have to watch out for Red and his buddies, but there was the possibility of zombies, however low.
Rise of the Undead (Book 4): Apocalypse Z Page 4
