Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7]

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  The gunshots had come from higher up. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain.

  He shifted his gaze to the houses across the street. All of the properties were as destroyed as he remembered them, but the one across the street had the windows open. He didn’t remember that from before.

  He peered into the house, looking for the tip of a rifle, the silhouette of a face, but the windows were dark. If the men were inside, they were either hiding or out of sight.

  Or they were making their way over.

  Noah wondered how long their attackers had been watching them. Had they seen the three of them getting into the car? Had they been biding their time? The thought made him feel queasy.

  He needed to get to Caddy. He needed to calm her down. What if she was at one of the upstairs windows, exposed? If she did anything foolish, she’d be killed. Theresa was gone and she’d be next…

  Noah clambered up the staircase, still gripping the rifle. As he traversed the stairs, a thought hit him. All their other weapons were in the car. As of now, the gun was the only thing they had to defend themselves.

  They were even worse off than before.

  Noah took the stairs two at a time, his legs quaking. He listened for Caddy’s location, but heard nothing. The house had fallen eerily silent. He had the sudden, disturbing thought that he was alone, and that Caddy had disappeared.

  But he knew that couldn’t be the case. He’d seen her seconds earlier. She had to be here. Right?

  When he reached the landing, he looked left and right. Only one of the doors was closed: the door to Caddy’s bedroom. He sprinted over and grabbed the handle. The door was locked. He pressed his ear to the wood. Though he couldn’t see inside, he could hear the faint sound of crying from within.

  “Open the door!” he hissed.

  The girl didn’t answer. She continued to sob.

  He jiggled the handle, hoping to pop it free, but the door wouldn’t budge. He rapped on the wood, balancing his need to be quiet with his need to get inside. The last thing they needed was to give away their location to the men outside.

  He needed to get her out of there.

  “Caddy!” he hissed. “Open up! We need to get the hell out of here!”

  Silence.

  “Open the door!”

  More silence.

  If she didn’t open the door, he’d break it down. Time was of the essence, and theirs was rapidly running out. He took a step back, intending to kick below the doorknob, but before he could, the door opened.

  Caddy stood at the threshold, her face tear-stained and defeated.

  “We have to leave or we’re going to die,” Noah told her.

  “I don’t care anymore.”

  “We need a plan to…”

  “Will this plan be as good as your last one?”

  Noah gritted his teeth. The image of Theresa’s face reappeared. He envisioned the blood running from the hole in her forehead, the way her eyes had glazed as she’d slumped over in the seat. He couldn’t think about that right now.

  Once he went down that road, he’d never come back.

  “I’m sorry, Caddy, for all of this. But if we don’t figure out a way to leave, we’re going to be next.”

  Caddy stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She didn’t speak.

  “I didn’t know your mother that well, but I know she’d have wanted you to live.”

  Caddy fell into his arms. He squeezed her tight, doing his best to console her. The world had become a horrible, awful place. Hell, it probably always had been.

  But if they didn’t find a way out of the house, they’d be the next to die.

  “I don’t see them,” Caddy whispered.

  Caddy and Noah peered out the upstairs window, keeping their heads down. Next to them was a paring knife that Caddy had found in the back of a kitchen drawer. Other than the rifle and the knife, the two of them were weaponless.

  Noah scanned the upstairs windows of the house across the street. Thus far, he’d seen nothing. He was almost positive their attackers had been there, but there was no way to know if they’d left.

  They could be anywhere.

  It was possible they’d fled the neighborhood, but Noah wasn’t banking on it. And there was no way he’d risk venturing outside. Not without knowing what was out there.

  Thinking back, he remembered several voices among the gunshots, though he couldn’t distinguish the exact number. Try as he might, he was unable to dismiss the thought that it was the same men. Their voices held a haunting familiarity. It was as if his past was doomed to follow him, clinging to his life like a shadow.

  He snuck a glance at Caddy. Her face was still streaked and stained, but for the past few minutes, she’d kept her composure. At some point they’d need to recover Theresa’s body from the car. They couldn’t leave her there forever. The thought of the woman’s body sitting outside seemed so wrong, so defiling. He felt his fear harden into anger.

  Whoever was out there would pay for what they’d done.

  He returned his glance to the empty road. The fact that they had yet to see their attackers bothered him.

  The silence was torture.

  “We should split up,” Noah said. “Watch both sides of the house.”

  He looked to his companion for agreement. Between the two of them, they could cover both the front and rear. They’d also have to pay attention to the sides. It would be difficult to cover everything.

  “I’ll take my mom’s bedroom,” Caddy suggested. “I can watch the back and the right side.”

  “OK. I’ll stay here and watch front and left.”

  Noah looked back at the door. A part of him wanted them to stick together, to barricade the entrance and remain in one room. But then they’d be trapped.

  The best plan, for now, was to try and pinpoint the men’s location. Sooner or later they’d have to reveal themselves, or so he hoped.

  Caddy padded from the room.

  With his companion out of sight, the silence returned. Noah stared over the windowsill, watching the sun graze the sky and clouds float over the distant hills. In no time, it would be dusk. What then? What if the men didn’t emerge?

  They couldn’t stay forever.

  Noah ran through their options.

  Their best bet was to take another car. Battered or not, they were still the closest and most reliable means of transportation.

  After a few minutes, his legs started to cramp, but he forced himself to remain still. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him in the window.

  One well-placed shot and that would be the end of it.

  Having kept vigil for a while, he ducked down and scampered across the room, heading for the window on the opposite side. He lifted the blinds and peered at the left side of the property. The house next door was almost an exact replica of the one he was in—white vinyl siding, gray shutters, and two floors. The only difference was the smashed windows. He peered into the shadowed rooms, but saw no human-like shapes hovering in their midst.

  The house reminded him of his home in Portland.

  He hoped to live long enough to see it again.

  He switched focus back to the other window, intent on changing positions, when a frantic hiss wafted from the next room.

  “Noah! Come quick!”

  19

  Noah darted for the doorway, his heart hammering. For the last few minutes, he’d been lulled into a false sense of calm, but now the sense of urgency had returned.

  Caddy’s voice was frantic and uneven. He clutched the rifle in his sweaty palms, certain he’d have to use it. Thank God he’d grabbed it from the car.

  He entered the hallway and caught sight of Caddy’s hunched figure in the other bedr
oom. By the looks of it, she wasn’t hurt, but her eyes suggested something was horribly wrong. She pointed to the window. Noah scrambled over and stopped next to her.

  Something was moving behind the garage.

  Noah couldn’t see anything, but he heard the shuffle of footsteps, the scrape of something along the rear wall. The detached garage was about twenty feet high. Even though they were on the second floor, they couldn’t see behind it.

  The two of them listened while the rustling grew louder.

  Noah glanced at the rifle. In order to get off a shot, they’d need to lift the window and the screen; both actions would leave them exposed to attack.

  The safest move was to wait.

  Noah stared at the corner of the garage, waiting for a glimpse of their attackers. He grabbed hold of Caddy’s arm.

  “Get ready.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but we need to be ready to run. We only have three bullets left in this thing.” He motioned to the rifle.

  Outside, the footsteps ceased.

  Noah craned his neck over the sill. Did their attackers know which room they were in? Was it possible they’d heard Caddy? Maybe they were testing the waters, trying to lure them out. The prospect made him nervous.

  He waited for the noise to resume, but the silence continued. Minutes passed. There was no way they’d been mistaken. Someone was behind the garage. Waiting. He was sure of it. It must be a trap.

  “I’m going to check the other room again. Make sure they aren’t surrounding us.”

  Caddy gave him a worried glance. He backed away from the window, still in a crouch, and turned in the other direction. He’d only gone a few feet when she signaled him to wait.

  He scampered back to join her. The noises had returned. This time they were louder than before; they sounded like they were right at the edge of the garage. He heard a bang, as if someone had inadvertently struck the wall.

  A shape emerged from behind the garage. To his surprise, the form didn’t belong to a person, but to one of the infected.

  A woman—or what had formerly been a woman—came into view, her shoulder-length hair clumped to her head, a pair of glasses dangling from her face. Her lips were smeared with blood—evidence of a recent meal. Her eyes wandered the yard as if she were looking for an object she’d lost.

  Caddy covered her mouth with her hand.

  “What is it?” Noah asked.

  “That’s Mrs. McDonald.”

  The two of them watched as the woman perused the yard, stepping over the grass and debris. Without warning, she paused and stared up at the window they were hiding behind. Noah pulled Caddy’s arm and the two of them ducked.

  “Did she see us?”

  “I don’t know. Stay down.”

  Noah bit his lip, trying to remain calm and quiet. Although the house was boarded, the last thing they needed was for the creature to notice them. They were in enough trouble as it was. After a few seconds, Noah raised his head, just enough to allow him a glimpse of the thing. Mrs. McDonald had resumed walking. He watched as she headed toward the driveway. If she’d seen them, she made no acknowledgement of their presence.

  Caddy popped up beside him, joining the watch.

  Mrs. McDonald scraped along the driveway, shuffling on battered and bruised legs. Noah noticed that she was slower than some of the creatures he’d seen before. It was almost as if the infection was taking its toll on her body.

  Was she dying?

  He recalled what one of the agents had said back at the salvage yard. According to the agent, the creatures wouldn’t last forever. Was it possible their lifespan was limited? He recalled the things that had attacked the house earlier. None had seemed weakened, but it was possible the virus affected each creature differently.

  Mrs. McDonald swayed from left to right. She looked like she was having a dizzy spell or a vertigo attack. Out of nowhere, she stopped. The car was directly in her path. She craned her neck to look at it, as if suddenly hit with a wave of recognition.

  Did she remember that the vehicle used to be hers?

  The creature swiped at her glasses, as if attempting to straighten them on her nose, and leaned down to inspect the vehicle. In the backseat, Noah could still make out the slumped form of Caddy’s mother.

  To his horror, Mrs. McDonald slid her hands along the exterior, looking for the door handle. Her hands smeared blood and fluid on the window as she walked.

  “No!” Caddy yelled.

  But Caddy’s cry was too late. The creature had already located the handle, and she pulled the door open with a tug.

  Noah watched as Mrs. McDonald plunged into the backseat, hovered over Theresa’s still-warm body, and began to feast.

  Caddy grabbed the rifle from Noah’s hands and raced down the stairs. Noah ran after her.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed. “You can’t go out there!”

  The girl ignored him. She moaned as she raced down the stairs, her entire body shaking.

  “Caddy—stop!”

  “She’s not going out like this. No way in hell.”

  “There are men out there with guns! You can’t just—”

  Noah made a grab for her, but she flung him off, her face red with emotion. She plowed through the living room and into the kitchen, then slid the table away from the back door.

  “Caddy! I can’t let you do this!”

  Noah lunged for her again. This time she raised the rifle at him. He stepped back and threw up his hands in alarm.

  “Stay back or I’ll shoot!” she cried.

  She turned away from him and flipped the latches on the back door, flung it open. Then she charged out onto the lawn.

  Noah ran after her. Regardless of how irrationally she was behaving, he needed to save her. He couldn’t let her go out there to die. The rays of the setting sun hit his eyes and he staggered in the direction of the vehicle. In the time they’d been inside, the sky had darkened.

  By the time he’d reached her, Caddy was aiming the rifle into the backseat of the car. Mrs. McDonald was in the backseat, gorging herself on Theresa’s remains.

  Before he could stop her, Caddy fired. The resultant crack bounced off the walls of garage, echoing through the quiet neighborhood. Mrs. McDonald fell forward into the car, her head demolished.

  Still sobbing, Caddy lowered the rifle.

  “Caddy! Come on!”

  Noah tugged at his companion’s arm, desperate to wrench her back toward the house. Gunfire rang out. This time it wasn’t from Caddy’s rifle, but from somewhere across the street. Bullets pierced the rear of the vehicle and dinged off the bumper.

  He pulled Caddy off the pavement, out of the line of fire.

  Behind the house was a clearing, followed by a patch of woods. Noah glanced back at Caddy. Maybe it was time to make their escape.

  “This way!” he shouted, pulling her along with him.

  His feet plodded through the grass. He clutched the paring knife, expecting to be assaulted by the infected on the way. Where there was one, there were bound to be others.

  They’d only run a few feet when they saw a man emerge from the forest. Though he was about five hundred feet away, the object in his hands was unmistakable. The man fired a shot in their direction. Noah and Caddy turned on their heels.

  A bullet hit the grass to their right, just missing them. There was no time to stop, no time to shoot. Noah’s worst fears had been confirmed. The men were the same ones he’d run into before. Not only were they outgunned; they were also surrounded.

  Noah made a charge for the house, listening to Caddy’s ragged breathing behind him. The house was twenty feet away; the door was open. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten far. The two barreled back into
the house, and Noah slammed the door shut behind them.

  They immediately moved the table in front of the door. Outside, Noah could hear the cries of men, the sounds of hunters closing in.

  Noah had put a target on his back, and it was one that could only be erased with blood.

  PART THREE – HOMEWARD

  20

  Noah grabbed Caddy’s hand and led her up the stairs, hoping to gain distance from the men. Each footstep bought them a second of time, but he knew it wasn’t nearly enough. They were outnumbered and surrounded. The best he could hope for was a place to hole up, a minute to think.

  Each passing second reeked of the end.

  Their feet pounded up the stairs. It was too late to disguise their location; there were only so many places they could hide. When the men got inside, they’d search every inch of the house. It was only a matter of time before the others found them.

  When they reached the landing, Caddy grabbed his hand and pointed above them. A hatchway was embedded in the ceiling, leading to an attic. Noah hadn’t noticed it before, but the sight of it gave him hope.

  He dove for the ceiling, pushing aside the plasterboard. There were no stairs that he could see.

  “How do we get in?”

  “A stepladder,” Caddy hissed. “Follow me!”

  She darted to a nearby closet, ripped open the door, and pulled out a ladder. The two of them fumbled with the metal rungs, doing their best to unfold it. Outside, the cries of the men had died down, but Noah could hear banging on the doors and windows.

  Time was running out.

  Once the ladder was in place, Caddy started to climb. Noah watched her disappear through the opening, then followed suit. When he’d reached the top rung he handed her the rifle, grabbed the lip of the entrance, and pulled himself into the darkness.