“Y-you shot me!” the man gurgled, as if Reginald might take back what he’d done.
Billy and Tom backed away from Reginald. They lowered their weapons, as if they might run away.
Reginald shot the man in the head. A sense of righteousness coursed through him as he watched the man crumple.
“Jesus!” Billy muttered.
Reginald stepped toward the table. A girl ran out from behind it, heading toward the far corner of the room. She screamed as she fled, dragging her hands along the wall, pleading for her life. She stumbled near the broken windows. Reginald followed her with his pistol, gritting his teeth, shining the flashlight in her eyes, blinding her. She held her hands in front of her face.
Before he could shoot, the girl lost her balance and toppled through the open window, landing at the base of the building with a thud. And then the night was silent again, except for the cool breeze blowing through the windows.
11
Sandy, Simon, Hector, Marcia, and Anabel drove away from the gas station, watching several creatures emerge from the shadows. A few of them raced toward the truck, but Simon was easily able to outrun them. Soon they were far enough away to relax slightly.
Sandy gave Marcia the pain relievers and supplies they’d collected from the gas station. Marcia administered them to Hector, who used one of the bottled waters from the bags to swallow the pills.
After driving a few more miles, the scenery transitioned from a commercial area to an area of wide, open desert. Sandy realized she hadn’t seen a building in a while. Night insects chittered around them. Sandy recalled drives she’d taken in the desert with Ben, taking in scenery, escaping the worries of the workweek. Those drives had always been accompanied with discussions of dreams, goals, and the things they missed about their childhood and their parents. Thinking about them now, Sandy had a twinge of nostalgia.
Times like that were much different than the silent, nervous drive she was taking now.
“Something’s wrong,” Simon said, looking at the dashboard.
“What is it?” Sandy asked.
“We’re overheating.”
Sandy snapped her attention to the temperature gauge, which shuddered above the top line. The engine light popped on. “Why is that happening?”
“We either damaged something or it’s a mechanical issue,” Simon said, pounding the wheel.
“Shit,” Sandy said.
“What do we do?” Marcia asked worriedly from the backseat.
“Ideally, we fix it. But I don’t have any tools. And I won’t be able to see much at night. We’ll have to at least wait until the engine cools off. Goddamnit,” Simon cursed.
Sandy recalled the thumps she’d felt during their escape. Any one of them could’ve damaged the underside of the vehicle. Before she could speculate further, Simon pulled off the road and shut off the car. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket and reached for the door handle.
“I’ll get out and take a look, even though I doubt I can do anything,” he grunted.
Simon popped the hood, opened the door, and stepped out into the street with the gun. A moment later, she saw him shining his flashlight under the hood. She looked in the backseat. Hector, Marcia, and Anabel watched Sandy with frightened expressions.
“I still don’t trust him,” Marcia whispered to Sandy. “If we hadn’t talked sense into him, we would’ve still been at the lumberyard.”
“If he betrayed us once, he might do it again,” Hector said worriedly.
Sandy nodded. “I don’t know what to think, either. Regardless, if we don’t have a vehicle, we’re going to have bigger problems than Simon. I’m going to get out and keep watch.”
“I’ll come with you,” Hector said adamantly, starting to get up.
“No. You should rest.”
Marcia reinforced Sandy’s suggestion by holding Hector’s arm.
“I’ll be careful,” Sandy persuaded them. “If I see any of those things around, I’ll warn you.”
She opened the door and stepped onto the side of the road. She surveyed the flat, vacant landscape. The moon illuminated patchy scrub brush. There were no buildings close by. To the north hung the White Mountains. Simon was focused on the engine. He creased his face as he jiggled some wires. Finally, he tucked his pistol in his pants and flashed his light at the undercarriage.
“I need to look underneath,” he said. “Can you cover me?”
Simon watched her for a moment, as if he might not trust her, then hunched down and slid underneath the truck, shining the flashlight. Sandy held her knife, looking up and down the street, her heart beating fast and hard. They were broken down, stuck in this hellish nightmare together. Regardless of what happened at the lumberyard, they had to find a way out.
Sandy looked up at the White Mountains.
She pursed her brow as she scrutinized a tall building in the distance, trying to determine exactly where they were. The darkness was disorienting. She was on the verge of recognition when Simon emerged from underneath the truck, his face grave in the orange glow of the flashlight.
“I think I found the problem,” he said.
Sandy’s heart fluttered. “What is it?”
“The oil pan has a hole. That explains why we’re overheating.” Simon returned to the engine and checked the dipstick. “Yep. The tank’s dry.”
“We can’t drive, then?”
“We’ll crack the head gasket if we do,” Simon explained. “Besides, we won’t get far with the truck in this condition. Our best bet is to find another vehicle.”
Sandy looked up and down the road, but saw no other cars, abandoned or otherwise. From inside, she heard Marcia checking on Hector. Sandy was worried about him. She was worried about all of them. Her headache still blazed behind her eyes, and her body ached from the collision.
Refocusing on the building in the distance, she realized they were near the St. Matthews Elementary School.
“Do you know what that building is?” Simon asked.
“Yes. That’s the St. Matthews Elementary School.”
“Is that where you went to school?” Simon asked.
“No. I grew up in Chicago. I moved here a few years ago with my brother.”
“That’s right,” Simon said, remembering. “Your brother died at the start of this. I’m sorry.”
Sandy cleared her throat and pushed away the awful memory. “In any case, the elementary school might be a good place to hole up until morning. Since it’s summertime, there might not have been anyone in the building.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“Can we drive there?”
“It’s possible, but we’d risk ruining the only vehicle we have. We should wait a half hour until it cools off. But it’d probably be quicker to walk.”
“Okay. I just hope Hector is up for it.”
Hector groaned as they helped him out of the backseat. “I’ll stop complaining now,” he joked, but the expression on his face showed he was still in pain. “I’m just a little dizzy.”
“Take it easy, Hector,” Marcia said.
Sandy stared up the street, as if the elementary school might’ve disappeared. But it was there, looming in the distance, looking less like a school and more like some haunted attraction, waiting for some foolhardy people to come near it. She saw no cars or signs of life around it.
“We should take as much food as we can comfortably carry,” Simon suggested. “We can hide the rest.”
Simon and Sandy retrieved a few bags and carried them, hiding the remainder of the food and water under the seats. Marcia and Anabel helped Hector.
“Stay quiet,” Simon said, turning his pistol in his hands.
They started up the road in a nervous group, leaving the truck behind. Sand
y glanced back at the vacant vehicle. With each step, they were farther from a refuge. But the truck wasn’t much of a refuge, anyway. With its missing window, the vehicle would only stave off the creatures for only a few moments.
We need better protection than that.
The humid air stuck to Sandy’s skin, making her tank top feel sticky. She wiped away the sweat from her forehead. A deep quiet had settled over the moonlit road, amplifying the occasional scuff of their shoes and the intermittent screech of night animals. Hector seemed to be walking fine, though she heard him sucking in pained breaths every now and again. Marcia and Anabel stuck by his side. Sandy and Simon kept on either end of the group.
Sandy stared at the school in the distance, grateful they’d found it, but nervous about what they might find there. The desolate building might mean safety. But it also might mean that others had chosen the same location, and those people might be as ill-intentioned as Reginald.
Loud footsteps made her look over at her companions. She was about to warn them to be quiet when she realized it wasn’t them.
Sandy grabbed Marcia’s arm, forcing her and the others to a halt as the footsteps continued slapping the earth.
Getting closer.
Something was approaching from the side of the road.
Simon swiveled, aiming his gun. Sandy caught a glimpse of a figure sprinting through the desert shrubs in the moonlight. Its rabid snarls gave it away as one of the creatures. She saw a bare chest, a few scraps of clothing hanging from a weathered body. Marcia gasped and backpedaled with Hector and Anabel. Sandy dropped her bag of food and clutched her knife.
“I’ve got it!” she said.
“I’ll shoot!” Simon said.
“No. You’ll make too much noise,” Sandy countered.
The creature ran in the direction of Hector and his family, but Sandy stepped in front of them, causing it to redirect its focus. Her heart pounded fiercely as the thing got close enough to smell. Without a word, she thrust her knife into the thing’s face, listening to the slick sound of blade meeting flesh. She pulled the knife free, blood splattering her face. She grimaced and stepped back. The thing collapsed.
“Jesus, Sandy,” Hector exclaimed.
More footsteps interrupted their relief.
Sandy looked in all directions. Another two creatures were running down the road, but Simon was ready with his pistol this time. There was no time to be quiet. He walked straight at them, creating a buffer from the group and firing. The first bullet went wide, ricocheting off the asphalt. The second connected. The first creature plummeted to the ground in a heap, emitting a last snarl and slapping the road. The second fell behind it as Simon shot it with a bullet in the head. The gunshots echoed through the street and off the distant mountains. Sandy exhaled as the desert fell quiet.
She wiped the blood from her cheeks, thankful that they’d survived.
“So much for staying undetected,” Simon muttered.
“More will come from the commotion,” Sandy said, recalling the lumberyard. “We need to get moving.”
12
They moved down the road at a faster pace. Even Hector seemed to have found a burst of strength, moving quietly and without complaint. Simon led the group while Sandy stuck alongside the others.
The distant building grew closer. Looking back, Sandy could no longer see the truck, as if night had swooped in and devoured it. They’d taken the keys, but Sandy found herself wondering if they’d ever return.
The future was as uncertain as it had been at the lumberyard with Reginald. Like everything else, the elementary school was a temporary destination.
The days of scrounging, hiding, and hoping were back.
Sandy recalled the times she’d spent huddled alone in buildings, thinking she was the last survivor, with only the screeches of hunting creatures to keep her company. Those had been the times she’d questioned her faith and her sanity. She’d prayed often, wondering when she’d see her brother again in some afterlife, or whether she’d die alone and unburied. If there were a higher power, why would He condemn her to loneliness? Why would He condemn her to inevitable death? She still hadn’t decided why that could be.
Reginald had been the first to find her. He’d located her in a flower shop, where she’d been hiding behind the counter with a knife and a bag full of supplies. He’d coaxed her out, brought her to the lumberyard, and promised her safety, introducing her to the others. In hindsight, he probably only wanted someone to help guard the gates.
She should never have followed him.
But how was she to know how violent he’d turn out to be?
They walked toward the massive, brick building. The school was several floors high, set back from the road, surrounded by a parking lot that spilled into a larger paved area around back. Sandy looked for cars, but didn’t see any.
Only maintenance workers were likely to have been in the building. That might make it a safe stronghold. They could rest and gather supplies before moving on. Hopefully, they’d find a more stable vehicle than the truck.
They detoured from the road into the parking lot, keeping quiet. Simon kept the flashlight off. Sandy searched the dark windows on all floors of the building, expecting to hear hissing, hungry creatures waiting for a meal, but heard no clues that the building was occupied. The parking lot and the front entrance were silent and still.
“Let’s check the back,” Simon whispered.
Cautiously optimistic, Sandy followed him as he led the group from the front of the building to the rear. The lot was empty save a single vehicle occupying a spot near the rear entrance.
Simon appraised it from a hundred feet away. He halted.
“What is it?” Sandy hissed.
“Someone’s inside.” Simon raised his pistol, pointing at the vehicle and creeping closer.
Sandy motioned for the others to stay back. She hung behind Simon, holding her breath. She readied her knife. From the faint light of the moon, she made out a beat-up sedan. She couldn’t see any more details than that.
Simon flicked the flashlight on, shining its beam over the car, revealing a sprinkle of glass by the driver’s side window and a flat tire. He moved the light up to the driver’s side door, illuminating a half-eaten face.
Sandy jumped. It looked like the person had been there for days. The person’s face was gray and missing pieces, probably scavenged by birds and predators.
“Poor bastard,” Sandy whispered.
Having determined nothing threatening was inside the vehicle, Simon walked up and inspected the car. “It’s got a flat, but there might be a spare. The keys are in it. Let’s see if it starts.”
Sandy watched as Simon reached through the window and past the corpse. The flashlight moved, exposing a tangle of black hair, a thin flannel shirt. The person had probably been a maintenance worker. Sandy had seen plenty of corpses, but something about this one, alone in a parking lot, was especially unsettling.
Simon found a key in the ignition and turned it. The vehicle clicked but didn’t turn over.
“Dammit,” he said. “Looks like we’re going inside.”
The keys from the dead maintenance worker’s car opened the school. Simon swung the back door open slowly, aiming his gun into a silent, dark hallway.
“I’ll go first,” he said, leading with the pistol.
The others followed. Sandy smelled the distinct odor of bleach from a set of bathroom doors, as if the school had been cleaned prior to the infection. Most of the classroom doors were open. They swept each one with the flashlight. When they were finished checking, Hector took a staggering step, catching himself on the wall.
“Hector!” Marcia whispered.
“I’m sorry. I’m just a little woozy,” he replied.
Simon motioned to one of
the doors labeled ‘Break Room’. “Why don’t you go in there and wait while I check the rest of the building?” he said.
“Are you sure?” Sandy asked.
“Yes. I’ll be fine. I’ll come back as soon as I’m done,” Simon said.
He handed Sandy the bag of food he’d been carrying. Sandy took it as he headed off down the hallway without a word. She watched his flashlight disappear.
“Come on,” Marcia said, watching him go. “He wouldn’t have given us the food if he planned on leaving. Let’s get Hector to a place where he can lie down.”
Sandy followed the others into the break room. The moon shone through the windows, illuminating coffee machines, a microwave oven, and condiments on the counters. In the center of the room were a couch and several chairs. A foul smell grew worse as they got farther into the room. Marcia coughed. Sandy saw what looked like a plate of food that had been left out on the counter.
“Someone missed dinner,” Hector said, attempting a smile.
“I don’t think the smell is just from that,” Sandy said, pointing at an oversized refrigerator. “Everything inside is probably rotten. We shouldn’t open the door.”
“Come on over to the couch,” Marcia said, directing Hector toward it. “You should rest, honey.”
“I’m fine,” Hector said.
Despite protesting, he sat down with a sigh of relief. Marcia and Anabel sat next to him, keeping him company. After shutting and locking the door, Sandy found some napkins on the counter and gave them to Marcia. She took them gratefully, dabbing the remainder of the blood from Hector’s face.
Sandy looked out across the parking lot, afraid that they might’ve drawn more creatures with the noise they’d made earlier, but all she saw were the silhouettes of the mountains and the empty, lifeless road.
Her mind wandered to the dead, half-eaten man in the car. If they hadn’t left the lumberyard, she had no doubt that they would’ve died, too—either from the creatures, or from Reginald.
Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7] Page 95
