Surely Bachman and Emma are far enough away. The creatures will concentrate on me, giving them time to escape. Please don’t let my sacrifice be in vain. He wasn’t sure who he was begging. God?
He never believed in God. Peter was a man of science. As far as he was concerned, everything had an answer if it was studied close enough. The bible was okay thousands of years ago, when man knew no different, but in today’s world, with modern technology, there is no excuse for small mindedness.
His arms started to lower. He was so tired. It felt like he has been running for weeks, not hours. He has no idea how long he has been standing, while fighting them off with the rake. Two minutes. Twenty?
Is this what it feels like to let go? To give in to the inevitable? He thought it would be scarier. He didn’t feel afraid; he just felt exhausted.
If there is no God, where do I go next? he reasoned? Is my consciousness an energy source that enters another plane of existence? I will soon find out.
Soundlessly, the black tentacles lashed around him, trying to get a purchase on his slippery clothing. Peter’s feet started sliding backward through the congealing blood around his boots. He tried not to think about how many people had to die to fill a tunnel this wide and long.
Maybe mom and dad are already somewhere else, waiting for me. We will be together again soon.
The rake is so heavy, and they are so powerful. Drop it and get it over with. Why postpone the ultimate outcome? My sacrifice will mean the others will reach the computer control room and end this madness.
Peter started to lower the rake. It felt like the right thing to do.
“Raise your fucking weapon!” Emma screamed from behind, as the axe blade cut through a thick tentacle.
“Move,” Emma shouted as she grabbed the rake from Peter, and used her free hand to shove him out of the way. He fell back, tumbling past Bachman. He landed in the fetid blood, which splashed up his arms.
Why didn’t they run?
Peter watched as Emma put her shoulders into it, shoving the closest creature back while screaming obscenities at it at the top of her lungs.
She’s stronger than she looks.
Behind, Bachman swung his axe at the thrashing tentacles.
“Why didn’t you run?” Peter shouted. Black blood ran down his gasmask. His hands were under the thick sewage, as he leaned back, watching the two of them fight the creatures.
Emma sidestepped, as if they had both arranged a mêlée dance. As she did, Bachman stepped forward and swung the axe straight down the center of the creature, slicing a large part of it clean in half. It slumped to the tunnel floor, twitching. Black blood squirted up the tunnel walls.
As the thrashing creature behind tried to climb over its fallen ally, Emma slammed the rake down into its legs, pulling them out from under it. Bachman then slammed the axe down with all his strength. The axe made a satisfying crunching sound.
It turns out; there are only two bulky creatures in the tunnel. Both lay oozing black blood.
“Get up!” Emma shouted, while trying to pull Peter to his feet. “We have to keep moving.”
“Why didn’t you run?” Peter sobbed.
“For fuck sake, you ungrateful bastard, get up and run!”
135
Lindell, Terrance, Troy, Naomi, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
“My people will hold them back. Stu will take you and yours to the boat.” Smokie then pulled the headphones back on, clicked the play button, and then pulled the axes from her belt and ran after her group, who was charging toward the oncoming infected.
“Have you got a child back there?” Stu asked, after the scream rung out across the gas-station forecourt. The man was out of breath. Lindell was under the impression that most of the water covering the man’s body was sweat, not rain. He could also see the man was wearing a Kermit the frog hand puppet, which held the machete.
“Yes, in the back room, but he hasn’t spoken since the accident. I think that was Alex,” Lindell stated.
“Well get them together, and quickly.”
“What about the truck?” Terrance shouted.
“We can leave it all. We just need to get out onto the water. We can return for the vehicles later.
“Naomi, if you get Tierra, Dante, and Frank from the back-room–” Lindell realized Naomi was already running after Stu, toward the boat, unconcerned about the others.
“Shit! I’ll get them. Terrance you get Alex.”
“On it.”
“Troy get to the boat.”
Troy simply stared and stood his ground.
The animalistic shouts of the infected pierce the night air, as they noticed the people gathered around the building.
Lindell headed straight through the building, jumping over collapsed shelving. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Terrance skid to a halt.
Turning his head, Lindell noticed a blood-soaked figure standing over Alex.
136
Alex, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
Alex stared up at the figure that was soaked in blood, and holding a glob of raw, dripping flesh, in each hand. It was a young woman. Her long dark hair was soaked in blood, and matted to her face. A face that wasn’t deformed like the infected. He could see her eyes; they were wide and staring, looking down at him.
Alex could feel the presence of someone else to one side. They were staring at the situation.
“Who are you?” It sounded like Terrance.
The woman’s head didn’t turn. She continued to stare at Alex. Her chest rose and fell in heavy breathing. She had on a blood-soaked summer dress that made her skin pickle with goose bumps. Her feet were bare and covered in small cuts.
Alex crawled backwards on his hands and feet like a crab. When he was far enough away, he stood up. He gave Terrance a glance.
“I said, who are you?” Terrance had his weapon pointed to the ground, but he held it in a fashion that stated he could raise it in a split second.
Her head slowly turned from Alex to stare at Terrance.
Outside the sound of the infected filled the air. The shouts of Smokie’s people fighting them back pierced the animalistic roars.
“She was behind the shelving. In a cupboard,” Alex stated in grasps, while trying to catch his breath. Now the shock had worn off; he could see through the cupboard. He noticed the back wall had been hit by a vehicle. The girl came from outside.
The woman released the globs of flesh. They dropped onto the floor with a sickening squelch.
“That’s Mollee. She’s with us.”
Alex turned to find a large man stood in the broken doorway of the gas stations store, with a long double-handed machete held in one hand with a green glove.
“Who are you? What’s going on?” Alex shouted at the man.
“You are taking too long. Let’s get moving,” the stranger said.
“He’s called Stu; he’s with the others.” Terrance explained.
“Others? It sounds like an episode of Lost!”
“We will explain when we are all on the boat,” Stu stated.
“Boat! What boat?”
Stu had turned back when he noticed no one was following him, apart from Naomi.
“What’s wrong with her?” Terrance questioned, nodding towards the young woman called Mollee.
“She has a few issues.”
“Issues? Whose flesh is that?” Alex asked pointing to the globs on the floor.
“Tish is her grandmother,” Stu said as if that answered everything.
“Who the hell is Tish?” Alex said. “Fuck, how long was I unconscious for?”
“Smokie will explain everything once we are all safe. Now get to the boat!” He turned and ran off.
The girl’s head turned to watch Stu leave. She then started to walk after him. Her bare feet left bloody footprints on the concrete floor. Mollee see
med unconcerned about the glass fragments.
“Lindell must have taken Frank and Tierra through the back exit to the boat,” Terrance said. “Let’s go.”
“Who’s Smokie?” Alex asked.
“Good question, let’s go find out.”
137
Smokie, and the others
Near a gas station
Just outside New York City
Linzi Osburn swung an axe downward, cleaving a skull in two. With the other axe, she cut across a pale, bloated throat, severing a main artery. The creature tumbled down into the mud, thrashing like a wild animal. It took all her strength to pull the axe from the thick skull.
All the while the English soft-rock group, Smokie played on the portable CD player. It was her all-time favorite band. She knew them personally from when she lived in Bradford, England – their home city. She was there on their first-nights performance back in 1974. She was hooked. She followed their progress, and became their number-one groupie, and eventually a close friend.
They were the reason why she had the nickname – Smokie.
As the words from her favorite song rang through her head, she slashed her way through the infected that were charging towards her.
The rain poured down her face, washing away the sprayed blood.
She slowly ambled through them; surefooted. The boggy mud wasn’t a problem.
“For Tish!” she shouted. She couldn’t hear her companions rally the cry, due to the headphones, but she knew they would be.
Tish was on the boat, in a coma. She was bitten four days ago while on a food run. They all knew she would turn. The rapid eye blinking, and sore throat appeared within twenty-four hours. Within three days, she was comatose. They knew what they had to do. Knew it needed to be done. However, they allowed her to lay in peace for the moment. When the time arrived, she would deal with the situation personally.
Tish was her best, and oldest friend in the world.
Smokie owed Tish a clean death, by her hands, not a strangers. She knew if the situation was reversed, she would do the same for her.
“FOR TISH!” Rang out around her.
The creatures raced over the field. There was no plan of attack. No coordination. Just every infected for themselves. Because of this reason, they were easy to cut down. If they acted as a group, it would be a different matter.
Around her, the group hacked their way through them. The ground was saturated with infected blood.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman go down. Alison was overwhelmed by three creatures that sunk their deformed teeth deep into her flesh.
Before Smokie had chance to react, it was over. Alison was ripped to shreds by powerful hands, as they gutted her and pulled on her intestines.
Up ahead Smokie also witnessed Shannon tumble into the mud. Before she had chance to climb back to her feet, two creatures were on her, teeth gnawing and ripping.
They all knew the danger of going on food runs. They all knew what could happen to them. However, they would rather go down fighting than fade away. Would rather it be over quickly in the heat of a fight than by waiting to die on a bed back on the boat, like their friend Tish.
She knew she had made a mistake. She came to her friend’s aid after she was already down. She killed the creature that bit Tish, and those around her. She should have let them finish her off – let her die as a human. Let her die with dignity, rather than slowly transform into one of them.
138
Lindell, Frank, Tierra, and Dante
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
“Get up! Move! We have to go,” Lindell shouted as he barged through the storeroom door, and ran straight at the fire exit, and with a kick flung the exit wide open, to slam against the wall.
“What, why?” Frank said. He climbed to his tired feet as he closed his bible.
“No time to explain. Move. Follow me now!”
“What is all the noise? What’s happening? Is my son safe?” Tierra shouted at Lindell as he ran through.
“MOVE!” Lindell stood on the back concrete loading area, holding the door open. Through the dark, and the pouring rain, he could just make out the shape of something large next to the dock. The sound of the water roughly lapping against the riverbank was louder on this side of the station.
Frank helped Tierra to her feet. She gripped her son, refusing to let him go so she could get to her feet easier.
Frank noticed someone behind him. He spun around. It was Troy.
“We have to get to the boat,” Lindell shouted through the sound of the thunder and pouring rain. The sound of gunshots cracked through the darkness.
“Boat?” Frank said.
“Stop asking questions and just bloody move, will you,” Lindell shouted as the rain poured down over him. He held his gun ready, in case an infected headed around the side of the building.
Frank ushered Tierra out.
Dante was silent, unmoving. All the commotion hasn’t made him cry, or even move.
Lindell raced toward the dock.
He could just see Stu’s bulk through the downpour jogging along the pier.
Lightning flashed.
A silhouette of a boat filled his forward vision. It looked like a forty-foot fishing trawler.
139
Alex, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
“What the fuck?” Alex shouted. “She almost gave me a heart attack! What did he say she was called – Mollee?” He started to follow Terrance through the station toward the storeroom.
Terrance jogged after his brother.
The blood-soaked female didn’t run; she carried on walking, as if she was in no rush. She seemed like she was boiling with anger – seething with it. It was almost palatable. It radiated off her like a supernova.
As the three reached the storeroom, they caught the back of Troy just exiting the door.
Terrance ran around the slow-moving female, and ran outside. Shouting drew his attention over to the right. An infected teenage male was charging around the corner.
Terrance raised his weapon and fired through the rain. The bullet hit the naked male between the eyes. The creature stumbled forward and skidded along the muddy ground and onto the concrete loading bay. It twitched once before taking its last breath. Dark blood pooled around its misshapen head.
Alex raced out into the rain, followed by the female in the summer dress. Without stopping, she headed to the dock. Until another creature charged around the corner. Mollee froze, and then slowly turned.
Terrance went to raise the weapon to shoot the second figure.
Mollee ran past him, in a blur of flowery dress.
Terrance couldn’t shoot; he would hit the girl.
“What the fuck is she doing?”
The female in the blood-soaked summer dress slammed into the middle-aged man. They went down hard, and rolled. When they skidded to a stop in the mud, the girl was somehow on the creature’s back, with it thrashing in her arms. She gripped its hair and twisted, snapping its bloated, deformed neck. She then stood slowly, and let the tuffs of hair in her hands drop to the wet ground.
“Fuck!” Alex whispered, as he stood next to Terrance in the pouring rain.
“Jesus!” Terrance muttered while lowering the machinegun.
The girl walked past them both, heading for the boat.
140
Bachman, Peter, and Emma
Inside a sewage tunnel
Zone 1
The underground bunker
Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania
They reached a large circular chamber. Four tunnels led into it. In the center of the room, a large churning pool of waste circled lazily. A thick pipe ran straight up. It sounded like it was sucking up the sludge to a chamber above.
A set of concrete steps led up to a metal studded door.
The smell was overpowering. Rancid, clotting blood and waste.
Emma kept grabbing his arm to pull him along. Twice she had to pull him back to his feet.
Bachman left them both waiting at the bottom of the steps while he climbed them to get his bearings, and check the area is safe.
The door was thick and heavy. Slowly, he opened it to reveal a large concrete room filled with pipes that crisscrossed the chamber. Towering vats gurgled.
“Clear!”
The other two climbed up to join him.
“It looks like some kind of large boiler room,” Bachman said.
“Shit!” Emma cursed. “We must have been turned around.” She rubbed a hand down her face, and brushed her matted hair over a shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“This obviously isn’t the computer section; we are in Zone 10, the water purification and waste sewage plant,” Peter stated as he slumped down onto the step.
“How? We went in a straight line.” Bachman pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear we have been going in a straight line.”
“If I remember correctly, from the map, Zone 10 is right next to the science block we exited,” Peter muttered. “We have hardly traveled any distance. Zone 12 is three times further than Zone 10.”
“Shit!” Emma said as she leaned her back against the wall and slid down to rest on the concrete step next to Peter.
“Wait!” Peter seemed to perk up. “That means we are right next to Zone 9, the underground reservoir.”
“And?” Emma said. She looked up from cupping her face in her hands.
“Zone 12 is also right on the edge of the underground lake. If we make it to the reservoir, we can cross the body of water and get into Zone 12. It’s got to be easier than wading through ankle deep gore.”
The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12] Page 33
