The thump that had awoken him hit the wall again. Rico didn’t know if was from a headboard, but whatever it was chapped his ass.
He almost decided to forget it and lie back down when he saw a manly figure run out from the gas station toward the truck at the pump. In his haste, he fell to the ground about halfway there. Dirt plumed up around him as he slid to a stop. It caught Rico’s attention that the runner never looked at where he was running. His head craned over his shoulder as he made the mad dash toward the truck. The man didn’t waste any time on the ground, springing back to his feet to close the distance between him and the pumps.
“Looks like the suburbs aren’t the only haven for knuckleheads.” Rico sighed. I’m not in the mood for this.
Then Rico saw what the man had run from. It was hard to see at first because of the uneven lighting and shadows. It was only one person in pursuit, and they didn’t look like they were in all that big of a hurry. But they kept going at a steady pace—a bit jerky, like they had an injured leg. Then the person lifted their arms. The realization hit him like an electric shock.
The Spook! It’s happening again, he thought.
No way. This had to be a rare case of a straggler just now escaping from where it had been. Maybe from an Army facility where some of the undead had been captured and studied. The dead didn’t come back to life anymore. The scientists had assured everyone of that.
If he had stayed back in Killeen, he wouldn’t be here and have to come face to face with the undead again. As much as he would have liked to crawl back in bed and cover his head, he knew that was something that he couldn’t do. A man outside needed help, and his job was to protect and serve.
He pulled on his pants and socks as quickly as he could and reached for his gun on the nightstand when he stepped into his boots. The extra clip was in his bag, so he reached in and grabbed it. His heart raced as his hand hit the door, and he snatched up his jacket as he stepped outside.
Get a hold of yourself, man. Think it through and don’t let the excitement make you do something stupid, he thought.
Rico took a deep breath and slipped his jacket on as he headed toward the pumps.
Screams echoed across the parking lot, but there was no telling from where they came.
A quick scan of the surroundings showed the man frantically trying to unlock his truck at the pump and the ghoul shambling toward him. The parking lot appeared to be devoid of activity.
Rico called out, “I’m a police officer. What’s going on?” He hoped to accomplish two things. One: let the man know help was on its way. And two: distract the undead.
“What the fuck does it look like?” the man still trying to get into the truck shouted. “It’s The Spook! It’s happening all over again. That dead guy bit me!”
As Rico stepped closer—his heart pounded in his chest like a steel drum. It matched the thump, thump, thump of his footfalls.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Rico mumbled, pissed about the situation. He was able to get a better look at the man at the truck. Each time the hazard lights flashed, he saw that the man’s chest was covered in blood. He had almost gone to his aid until the zombie giving chase moaned eagerly in anticipation.
Rico aimed the gun at the ghoul. It was at pump number 1, reaching out as it shuffled over to the truck.
“Shoot it!” the bleeding man cried.
Rico’s hands shook. His mind flashed to his nightmare. He saw the first zombie he shot at the bar, and then his mother’s face, then Pete’s face, before reality returned him to the present. The zombie in front came into clear view as he pulled the trigger.
Bam!
The gun blast in the still of night slapped him awake from the momentary shock the situation had on him. The zombie fell between the pumps before he could reach the man.
Rico hurried over to the undead lying on the ground. He lifted his gun, prepared to fire again if it showed any sign of movement. It didn’t though. It was dead, again. The undead who attacked the man was none other than Kevin, the friendly gas station attendant who had waited on him earlier.
The cough, Rico thought. Kevin suffered from that cough. Did he have a cold, or was he suffering from whatever ailed those affected by The Spook? His worst fears took root and began to sprout.
The man by his truck let out a sob.
“Are you okay?” Rico asked, turning his attention away from Kevin.
The man jerked his head around and peered over Rico’s shoulder. His watery eyes went wide in abject fear.
“Fuck this! I’m outta here!” The man found the fortitude to insert the key in the lock and opened the door. He slid inside, and the engine roared to life as soon as his ass hit the seat.
Rico turned and saw what had the old guy in such a panic. Two women had just rounded the corner of the motel and they were heading straight for him. Close on their heels, at least a dozen zombies gave chase. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Miss Tammy, the motel manager, led the way. She had the same cough, and now she was a member of the walking dead like Kevin.
“Shit.” Rico gritted his teeth—the worst of his fears coming true right before his eyes.
He turned to jump in the bed of the truck, but it was too late. The white Ford barreled away from the gas pumps with tires spinning in the dirt and kicking up debris. The driver didn’t take into account the dirt parking lot after his tires left the cement by the pumps. The rear of the truck fishtailed from side to side, and he overcompensated the steering each time, trying to regain control. The truck arrived at a light pole before the driver succeeded. It hit the pole and skidded against the curb where it rolled off balance upside down. Metal screeched as it folded under itself, quickening Rico’s teeth.
When the truck came to a rest, it was half on the grass and half on the road. With Rico’s ears ringing, he wasn’t sure if the moans he heard came from the driver, or the group of zombies heading his way. It didn’t take long for him to find out. The moans carried the desperate pangs of hunger. There was no doubt those very moans came from the cab of the overturned truck. The man had been bitten, and it hadn’t taken long for him to turn into a flesh eating zombie.
That meant the alien virus had mutated again. Those who were bitten during The Spook must have incubated a new strain of virus. Now that it had transformed them into undead cannibals, they were able to propagate by wounding a member of the living. Realizing this had Rico wishing he had a full suit of riot gear and body armor. He was about to be an eyewitness to one of the new zombie firstborns.
“Help! They’re going to get us,” one of the two women headed toward him shouted.
Rico looked for a means of escape and felt his keys in his front pocket. He could see his motorcycle from where he stood, but there was no way he could carry both women with him. He was going to have to steal a car unless the women had one. No time to think about it now. It came down to fight or flee, and he didn’t know if he had enough bullets to take down the zombie horde.
“Follow me!” No point in running to them if he was only going to have to lead them away. He stepped past dead-man Kevin and darted for the gas station. “This way, hurry!”
Fortunately, the women easily outpaced their would-be attackers. Rico waved them over and held the door open. The two quickly shot by, and he stepped in behind them. Once safely behind the door, he twisted the knob on the deadbolt.
“My name’s Rico,” he said. “I’m a police officer.”
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, mister. Just help us get out of this mess,” the woman closest to him, a brunette, said.
Yep, par for the course. Just do what we pay you for, shut up, and protect my ass, Rico thought. The zombies had crossed the road and were heading straight for them. “Well, looks like that bunch would be the last to reach the finish line at the Boston Marathon. We can at least out run them for a ways. Either one of you have a car we can take?”
The unified moans from outside grew louder. Even though Rico knew a layer of safety glas
s protected them, it still creeped him out that they were so close. Miss Tammy was the first to step up and mash her face against the glass. The ancient wisdom she may have once harbored gave way to an unquenching lust for raw human flesh.
“I don’t,” the brunette said.
“And you?” Rico took notice of the other woman for the first time and realized it was his date wanna-be, June Melon, who he had met by the soda machine.
The blonde shook her head. A bewildered expression gripped her face. Rico wondered how fucked up she was on drugs and maybe just thought she was having a bad trip.
Rico turned to the brunette. “Do you know where all these zombified people came from?”
“The trailer park behind the motel,” she said, gasping to catch her breath. “We was over there trying to find a little work… I, um… I mean trying to find a friend, when the shit hit the fan.”
More of the undead gathered by the door. Hands with crooked fingers pawed against the glass. June snapped to attention and slowly stepped backward. “They want in—they’re going to get us! We have to leave before they break in.”
At least June was aware enough to be scared for her life. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m sure there’s a back door. Let’s lose these fuckers and get the hell out of here!”
Chapter 8
“Hold on.” Rico stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Let’s not run off right now without thinking this through a bit.” He turned and pointed a finger at the brunette. “There’s a pack of zombies out there wanting to eat us. Those people were alive a few hours ago. We’re not dealing with a small number like back when The Spook happened. That means once we leave here, we’re going to face a hell of a lot more than before. We’ll have to steal a car and make a run for it. I don’t know where we’ll go, but we’ll need supplies. We need to grab what food and water we can here before we make our escape.” Rico scanned the store, looking for the most practical food and drink to bring along with them. No chips, but maybe some crackers—with peanut butter or cheese filling. Something with protein, like tuna, or even Vienna sausages. Water would be heavy but it was what they would need the most. Maybe some energy drinks, but hell no to any alcohol.
Before he could bark out any orders, a jolt to the door hit so hard it made the electronic entry warning—the duck quack—activate. It startled Rico enough that he raised his arms and lowered his head for cover. I’m too fucking jumpy over this, he thought. I’ve got to get my shit together.
He turned to the door and watched the mass of zombies fervently push against it. They pushed so hard, Rico thought he could hear tiny pops from stressing glass. He hurriedly stepped away on a frantic mission.
The brunette spread her hands and shifted her weight from side to side. “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you said we were leaving?”
“We will in a minute. We have to buy a little time to grab some supplies. I’m looking for something to barricade the door with.”
“Wait, where’s Kevin?” The brunette turned her attention away from Rico and ran to the counter. She looked behind it and craned her neck to one side.
“Don’t worry about that goofball clerk. Come and help me move some stuff in front of the door.” Rico grabbed a display shelf featuring various flavors of beef jerky and started dragging it toward the entrance. June was too distraught to be of any use. This was no time for the other woman to lose her focus on the dire emergency at hand.
“But Kevin can help us. We can’t leave him here.” The brunette turned her attention away from Rico. “Kevin?” She yelled.
The moans increased outside, reacting to the woman’s cry.
“Shut the fuck up!” Rico briefly stopped pulling the display and watched the zombies increase their efforts to break in. “Kevin’s dead. I’m sorry if he was your friend, or one of your customers. He turned into one of those things and attacked a man by the gas pumps. I had to put him down.”
“You did what?” The brunette brought the back of her hand to her mouth. “Kevin’s dead? You’re lying.” Her face instantly turned red. Tears welled in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks.
Rico grimaced at the sudden burst of anguish. Now was not the time for her to pull this shit. Damn women, wearing emotions on their sleeve.
Before he could chastise her, the teeth quickening sound of glass cracking froze Rico in his steps.
“They’re going to break in and get us!” June cried.
“What gave you that idea?” Rico glared at both women. He pushed the display against the door the best he could. It was heavy and a little awkward. The chips in the floor tile didn’t make his job any easier. “Now help me with that ice cream box by the counter.”
Rico ran to the cooler and pulled one end away from the wall. It was heavy, which was good to use for a barricade, but not too heavy for him to move alone if he had to, which was even better. He reached down and unplugged the electrical cord.
He pulled the other end away from the wall and pointed it toward the door. As he went to the back to begin pushing, another set of hands appeared and latched on too. June had finally broken out of her funk enough to make herself useful. She gave him a reassuring smile, but it was obvious to Rico she was just putty inside. At least she was trying, and he admired her for that.
As for the brunette, she had gone from the self-centered, more level headed of the women to some hysterical mess that needed to be shot with a tranquilizer gun. Good grief, was Kevin her boyfriend?
Rico braved a look at the faces of the hungry ghouls outside as the cooler inched its way toward the door. Miss Tammy’s eyes were milky white and vacant of life. She was horrible to look at. It reminded Rico of a shark’s eyes as it searched for prey in the waters of the deep. Cold, uncaring, hell bent on one thing alone—to feed. As Rico and June moved closer to the door, the savage lust of the undead increased. The storefront door rattled like a disjointed tune played on a hollow drum.
“Think it will hold?” The quiver in June’s voice had Rico thinking she was about to lose it again.
“I have no idea,” Rico said, watching the creatures desperate to get inside. “All we need to do is buy some time, and then get the hell out of here.”
The glass cracked again, noticeably louder this time.
The dead moans seeped through the crack and wrapped icy fingers around Rico’s spine.
June must have felt that way, too. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes grew as wide as saucers. The brunette was still lost in her own little world, ignoring the threatening death.
Rico snapped out of it and tried to command June to action. “That shelf over there. Help me move it.” He dashed over to a shelf lined with canned goods and junk food. He leaned against the display and put his back into it. “Shit.” The damn thing was bolted to the floor.
Glass creaked again until pieces broke and fell to the floor.
“What are we going to do?” June cried.
“Find the back door and get out of here.” Rico quickly looked for a gallon jug of water to grab. They could do without food for a while, but water was something they simply had to have.
June didn’t wait for him, and when more glass hit the floor and the barricade shifted, Rico forgot all about the water. He caught up with June just as she reached the brunette.
“Get her back to her senses. What’s the story with her and Kevin anyway?” Rico asked.
June made sad eyes and raised her lower lip. “Kevin was her baby brother.”
Fuck. Kevin was her brother, and I killed him. I wish I had kept my big mouth shut. Rico cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I . . . didn’t have any choice in the matter.” Rico walked over to a door in the back and opened it. It was a closet housing brooms, mops, and other cleaning materials.
June shook her head. If the brunette had heard him, she must have not cared for the apology, because she didn’t respond in any way.
When the regret had rolled off Rico’s lips, he reali
zed he didn’t really care she had lost her brother. He didn’t know them well, and what time he spent with Kevin certainly didn’t cement any emotional ties. What was sad about the situation was his drastic change in attitude. He would have sympathized with the brunette if he had just met her yesterday and learned of her brother’s death. He would have genuinely felt something inside for anyone who had a lost a loved one. Something had died inside—a part of his humanity. It didn’t matter to him now that Kevin had been a human like him hours before. Kevin was no different from a wild animal in his undead state. Now it was kill or be killed. There would be no remorse for eliminating the living dead.
Rico didn’t like what he had become. “Damn, where’s the door leading out of this place?”
“There’s an emergency exit behind the counter,” June said.
“Grab your friend and get ready to make a run for it. We’re wasting time.” Rico ran behind the counter and found the emergency exit down a short hall leading to the office. He waited as June dragged the brunette by the hand with her.
“Okay, get ready. I’m going to lead, and you both stay as close to me as possible. Got that?”
June nodded her head.
“Good, here we go.” When Rico said, ‘go,’ he opened the door and stepped up with gun poised in the lead.
Someone waiting outside immediately crashed into him and knocked him backward to the floor. Damn! I should have known better—looked outside first. I got in too big of a hurry and now I’m fucked.
When he hit the floor, the pistol jarred loose and skittered from his hand. The metallic clang spiked amongst the desperate moans of the undead and gnashing of teeth. The zombie had apparently been waiting at the back door, and Rico made the mistake of inviting it in.
Six months ago, Rico had been in the fight for his life with a zombie on top of him at Pop’s. The scene repeated itself. A scene he had never thought would happen again. He fought to keep the zombie’s fingers from digging into his skin. The zombie clawed with abandon to gain dominance.
The Dark Times: A Zombie Novel Page 7
