Apocalypse Journeys (Book 1): Jacob's Odyssey

by Melrose, Russ

  "I've got to be going," I told him. "You should too. Thank you, sir."

  I hustled to the other end of the yard and the old man watched me as I went. Then he scurried toward the open back door. He took short steps and walked with a sideways gait, his shoulders seesawing back and forth.

  I waited to make sure he made it safely inside. He kept looking back at me as if I were a threat. I could hear the infected coming and he heard them too. He picked up his pace but headed for the backyard gate instead of the back door. He'd never make it.

  I ran as fast as I could for the gate. An infected teenage girl was through the gate before the old man could get there. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her and raised the golf club above his head where it waggled as he waited for her. He brought the iron down on the infected girl's head as she lurched toward him. He hit her with enough force that the head of the club embedded itself into her skull. She collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The old man tried to wrench iron from her head but couldn't get it out.

  Another infected lumbered eagerly toward the gate, a young male with wild, bushy brown hair. The old man saw him coming. He turned and ran, his face etched with fear. After a couple steps, he tripped and fell heavily to the ground.

  The infected man stumbled excitedly through the gate. The old man tried to get to his feet. I ran past him and came at the infected man from an angle. He turned and reached for me, but I was too quick for him. I had a lot of momentum and hit him hard in the shoulder with both hands and sent him crashing into the side of the house where he slumped to the ground. I felt a shooting pain in my shoulder but ignored it. I closed the gate and ran over to where the dead, infected girl lay.

  I needed the four iron.

  I clamped my foot down on her jaw and worked the golf club back and forth trying to pry it loose. The infected man was on his hands and knees now, mumbling and groaning. I tugged as hard as I could on the club and it popped out. I reared the club back as I ran at the gray. I took a sideways baseball swing and struck him in the temple. He collapsed to the ground and was still. He moaned softly but didn't move. I clubbed him again and the moaning stopped.

  The old man's arms wobbled as he tried to push himself up off the ground. I helped him get to his feet. Even when I got him to his feet, he was still unsteady. I held him up till he gained his balance. He looked embarrassed.

  I handed him the four iron. "You okay?" I asked.

  "I'm fine," he snapped. He looked down briefly before giving me a quick glance. "I'm okay."

  I thought about helping him to the back door but thought he might not appreciate the assistance.

  "I have to go," I told him.

  The old man shook his head in acknowledgment.

  "Thank you," I heard him say quietly as I hustled away.

  I ran back to the corner of the fence again. The infected were still in the other corner banging incessantly on the fence. Two more backyards to go. I was nearly there. I rubbed my upper arm and shoulder. It felt tender but would be okay.

  I checked my watch. It was just past five-thirty. I'd told them I'd be there in fifteen minutes, but it was closer to twenty now. I wondered if they thought I was dead.

  I pulled myself up to the top of the fence and inspected the two yards. My shoulder throbbed from the effort. I made no attempt to be cautious or subtle. If there were any infected in the catty-corner yard, I wanted them to see me. The yard directly in front of me was empty, but the catty-corner yard had three infected in it. One of them saw me, then they all knew I was there. I did my best to memorize anything distinctive about them. Once they were within fifteen feet, I dropped down into the empty yard.

  I would remember the woman. She had dirty, straggly red hair down to her shoulders and would be easy to spot—the first redhead I'd seen. One of the males had on a business suit ripped in the shoulders, the padding sticking out like a pulled shred of cotton candy. Miraculously, his tie was still tightly knotted. I wouldn't have any problem spotting him either. The other male would be a challenge. He was as nondescript as they came. He wore shorts and a short-sleeve t-shirt and was average in height. He had dusty, medium-length hair like a thousand others.

  I waited till they started their pounding, then made my way across the yard. Two-thirds of the way to the opposite corner, I lifted myself up and over the fence. They were in the corner, assaulting the fence boards. They didn't notice me and were too far away to pose a threat. I headed to the fence bordering the next yard—my target yard. The yard belonged to the same vacant house I'd noticed when we first crossed Jupiter Drive. If I remembered correctly, there would be an RV driveway just past the gate. The house was abandoned and the location was perfect.

  I picked the part of the fence closest to where the gate would be. I couldn't hear if there were infected in the target yard. The ruckus from the fence pounding and the ubiquitous moans were too loud for me to hear anything. One of the infected back in the corner spotted me and the three of them headed toward me. It had to be now.

  I took a breath and pulled myself up to the top of the fence. There were two infected in the backyard. One of them spotted me immediately. He was barrel chested and bald with a thick face like a walrus. The other infected was an old woman who was bent over peering through a basement window. She looked up when her companion's moans intensified.

  I jumped down and pulled the gun out. The opened gate was ten feet away. The burly infected man was maybe fifteen feet away. I aimed the gun at him as he trundled toward me. He took short steps and his upper torso was tilted forward as if he were walking into a stiff wind. His feet moved just fast enough to keep him upright. I was surprised how fast he could move. He wasn't a runner, but he moved quickly. I mimicked his pace as I moved backwards toward the gate. I didn't want him getting too close. The old woman straightened up. She looked at me queerly and started shuffling toward me.

  I made my way to the gate and glanced through it as the infected man approached. The driveway was clear to the street.

  I ran through the gate and kept my eyes to the front. I had to see what I was facing. I felt juiced and incredibly alert. I ran past the front of the garage to my left and the front edge of the neighbor's house to my right. I had to check out the front yards. There were three infected in the yard to my left, maybe eight in the yard to my right.

  Then the vista of the neighborhood opened up in front of me and I had trouble reconciling what I was seeing. Jupiter Drive and Lois Lane teemed with the infected. Several hundred infected roamed the streets and front yards within a block of me.

  I'd already been spotted. As more of them became aware of me, their truculent moans spiraled in intensity.

  I glanced back and the infected man was well past the gate now. A few more seconds and he'd be where I wanted him. I turned and waited. I held the Glock in my hand and was ready to fire when he came within range. My hand trembled and I was surprised by the trembling.

  He rushed at me like a madman, his head leading the way as if he were a bull looking to gore me. I aimed the Glock at his head, steadied myself, then fired a single shot at him. The bullet struck him in the top of the head. He stumbled forward a few steps and crashed face first to the ground. I looked past him for the old woman but she was nowhere in sight.

  I heard a brief pause in the dissonant stream of moans, but it was so short-lived, I thought it might be an auditory mirage.

  The moans rose to a thunderous level.

  I faced them again. They funneled frenziedly toward me from every direction. From north and south off Jupiter and straight down from Lois Lane. The closest infected to me were the ones in the yard to my right. I focused on them.

  It was important I get off five or six shots before getting the hell out of there.

  Three of them lumbered determinedly across the yard in a state of hysteria, followed by the others. I waited for them to get closer. I aimed the Glock at them, my hands still trembling.

  I forced myself to wait. I fired at the
ir heads and two of them fell, but I only creased the skull of the third. I steadied myself and fired again and he went down. Four more tramped toward me from the same yard, but I could wait for them. Peripherally, I could see several infected coming up the foot of the driveway. Behind them, a runner looked to rush past them. I turned to face them, then noticed a woman from the yard to my left was even closer, no more than ten feet away. I fired and hit her but she kept on coming, lurching wildly toward me. The bullet had pierced her throat and she gasped noisily. I fired two quick shots into her face and she fell a few feet from me.

  I pivoted left to right to keep an eye on all of them. The shooting seemed to have steadied my hands. I wasn't sure how many shots I'd fired, but it was enough.

  They were converging from every direction. I backed up a few steps, ready to turn and run, but there was no sign of the redheaded woman or the man in the tattered suit and tie.

  The runner bullied his way past the group coming up the driveway. He wore a crimson Utah football t-shirt and baggy shorts and thundered toward me like a crazed lunatic. I aimed at his head and fired three shots to make sure I didn't miss. He staggered and fell heavily onto the pavement.

  The infected in the driveway careened up the cement slope. Some stumbled over the body of the runner in their eagerness to get to me. They were seconds away now. I took another step back.

  I had to go. I glanced one last time to my right and there he was—the infected man in the tattered suit and knotted tie. He stumbled around the corner of the house.

  I turned to run but ran right into the old woman. I'd forgotten about her. She held her arms out to me as if she were expecting me to give her a hug. Her deep inset eyes glistened with excitement. Her gaping mouth was filled with rotting gums and no teeth. I raised my hands up and tried to shrink away from her at the same time, but my momentum carried me right into her. She weighed next to nothing and I knocked her down without trying, but our legs got tangled up and I stumbled and fell.

  I threw my hands out to break my fall and instinctually let go of the gun. It skidded across the driveway and nestled against the house's foundation. I leaned right as I fell and landed on my side and let myself roll with the impetus of the fall. I rolled onto my hands and knees and sprung to my feet.

  I didn't hesitate. I could hear their shuffling feet scratch the cement surface behind me, and I sensed them reaching for me. I lunged away from them, arching my back as I sprinted for the gate. I left the Glock behind. Their raucous moans chased me up the driveway. I grabbed the gate door and pulled it shut after me and made sure the latch was secure.

  I bent over, hands on my thighs, breathing heavily, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I needed to collect myself, but I had to get going too.

  The first of the infected slammed into the gate behind me and the gate shuddered in its frame.

  The gunshots were the signal for the countdown. Twenty minutes from now, Raj would let himself down from the attic. He'd go to the girl's bedroom and check the street to see if it was clear. If it was clear, he'd help Sarah and Becky get down and they'd grab their things and leave in the Tundra. I was counting on the infected from Fortuna Way following the sound of the gunshots and heading toward Jupiter Drive. The only question was how long it would take before Fortuna Way was clear of the infected.

  I had to be back in twenty minutes.

  The infected pressed heavily against the gate and each other, and more were coming. It wouldn't be long before the gate would succumb to the crush of bodies.

  I stood at the fence and waited. I wanted to make sure the next yard was clear before I left. The man in the ripped suit had shown up, but I hadn't seen the others. I looked at my watch. The seconds crawled along at a snail's pace. The gate hinges began to screech. I pulled myself up to the top of the fence. The yard was empty. I dropped down and ran across the yard.

  The next yard was clear too. Fortune was smiling on me, and then I wondered where the Swimmer was. I thought at some point I'd run into him, but he was nowhere to be found.

  On my way back, the only infected I encountered was the docile infected woman. She'd returned to her vigil at the back door, still mesmerized by whatever it was she saw in the house. I passed through her backyard without being noticed. Behind me, I heard the gate give way, heard the wood planks buckle and break, and heard a rise in the frenetic pitch of their moans.

  Minutes later I was in a backyard near the street I had to cross. I checked my watch and there were still twelve minutes left before Raj would be dropping down from the attic.

  I situated myself near the corner of the house where I could glimpse the street through the opened gate. There were more of them now than when I'd crossed earlier. They lumbered past in a state of agitation, heading toward Jupiter.

  There were too many of them. I'd have to wait. It would only take me three to four minutes to get back to the house. I had time. I could wait till they were gone.

  The sun hadn't crested the Wasatch Mountains yet, but the sky and the morning air grew lighter by the minute. I couldn't see much of the valley from the backyard view, but I could see the Oquirrh Mountains to the west, their peaks bathed in sunshine. Over the next half hour, the sunlight would steadily fill the valley floor west to east till the whole valley would be drenched in light.

  Fatigue had set in and the pain in my shoulder persisted. I didn't know how much damage my shoulder had suffered. I also felt some residual tightness in my thighs.

  My mind wandered to Sarah and Raj and Becky sitting in the attic. It gave me some comfort. I knew they were relatively safe, and I would be seeing them again in a few minutes.

  I checked my watch again. Only three minutes till Raj would check to see if the streets were clear. The group out on the street had thinned, but there were still too many of them.

  If I ran as hard as I could, I thought I could make it to the house in two minutes. I mentally prepared myself to run the moment there was any kind of break in the infected trudging down the street, but they just kept coming. I'd have to leave now if I wanted to make it back in time.

  The infected slowed to a stop and turned in the general direction of the house where Sarah and Becky and Raj were located. They fell silent and craned their heads as if listening attentively. I listened too, and then I heard it. A faint grunting sound—Raj.

  I didn't hesitate. I sprinted through the gate and into the front yard. Their heads were turned away from me as they focused on Raj's emphatic grunts. I ran out into the street, ran right past them. They stood like scarecrows wavering in the wind. A few of them heard me and turned their heads, but I was past them before they could move. I headed for the fourth house down. I ran through the gate and into the backyard. It was empty like the others. A few seconds later I was climbing the back fence, and as soon as I hit the ground on the other side, I reached into my pocket for the lock pick set.

  I was at the back door working the rake pick when I heard Raj scream, a terrified howl that faded into a groan. And then there was silence. When the pins were in place, I turned the tension wrench and opened the door.

  Chapter 18

  Melzer

  The house was dead silent. I scanned the kitchen looking for a weapon and found one on the counter—a butcher knife embedded in a wooden knife block. I drew it out and headed for the dining room.

  My hiking shoes squeaked on the wood floor and I cringed and stopped dead in my tracks. From where I stood, I could see the front door was wide open. Outside, a tall figure walked away from the house. He had a limp and held a hand against the outside of his thigh as if he were helping to carry the leg along with him. His leg was stiff and he walked with a half-skip. He limped into the street. He must have sensed my presence because he stopped and turned. The Swimmer eyed me passively, his face flat and expressionless. Fresh blood lingered on his chin. A chilling smile formed on his lips and he let out the same high-pitched quavering sound he'd made the first time I'd seen him—an atavistic cry, ancient and primal.
When he finished, he glared at me with a challenge in his eyes. Then he turned and limped across the street.

  A skinny infected man lay in the entryway with noticeable trauma to his head and face. He wasn't much more than a collection of bones inside baggy clothes. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling and his mouth was wide open. I walked cautiously into the living room area and that's where I found Raj. He wasn't alone. Two more infected, a short stocky man and a woman in a badly soiled sundress, lay on the living room floor, their skulls bashed in.

  Raj lay flat on his back on the living room floor, his legs splayed comfortably apart as if he were sleeping. He didn't move. His head was propped up against the bottom of the recliner at a sharp angle as if he'd fallen against it. Bright arterial blood pulsed rhythmically from a bite wound in Raj's neck, adding to a red pool of blood on the floor next to him. I thought about trying to stop the bleeding, but I knew it was too late.

  Raj's eyes drifted to me without his moving his head and his lips trembled as if he wanted to say something. His face's smooth brown skin had paled and was remarkably smooth. I leaned down to see if I could hear him. He raised his head and tried to speak, a look of anguish in his eyes. A small eruption of blood sprayed from his mouth when he tried to talk. He looked at me desperately as if he wanted me to understand something.

  And I thought I did. "I'll take care of them, Raj," I told him.

  I heard blood gurgle softly in his throat. And for a moment, I thought he may have nodded at me. Then Raj was quiet and his eyes became still.

  My bat lay next to him on the floor with flecks of blood on the fat end of it. He'd used it to bash their heads in, but Raj was no match for the Swimmer even with a bat. I couldn't believe he was gone, and I kept thinking there had to be something I could do to change the outcome, but it was too late. There was nothing I could do.

  I had trouble concentrating and was at a loss as to what I should do. I knelt there woodenly. Too many incoherent thoughts fought for my attention and I couldn't sort them out. The one thing I was sure of was that the Swimmer's shrill howl would draw the infected from the neighboring streets to us. But it would take time for them to get here. I had at least several minutes before any of them showed up. I needed to focus.