The Infected (Book 2): Karen's First Day

by Zuko, Joseph

  Tina noticed a metal bracelet around the two year olds wrist. It was a stainless steel chain that held a stainless steel plate. Tina looked closer and it had a name and address etched into the small steel plate.

  ANITA BILLINGS

  995 SE 136TH AVE APT C8

  VANCOUVER WA, 98683

  That was this apartment complex. It was two buildings over from where they were crouched. Every minute that passed for Karen felt like someone was punching her in the face.

  What if Valerie noticed she was gone and decided to wander out to look for her Mama?

  The infected moved like they were three-toed sloths. They were taking a leisurely walk in the park when they did not have a living target to slaughter. It was driving Karen crazy how slow the infected were moving.

  Two or three minutes had clicked by and the three infected were still only twenty feet away. Karen did not have twenty minutes to hangout and wait for them to slowly leave the area.

  She mouthed the words, “Stay here.”

  Tina nodded at her. Karen inched her way around the entrance of the fence. The infected didn’t hear her moving around the outside of the fence. She crept in behind them. It was risky but she couldn’t wait any longer. Her plan boiled down to this.

  Kill the two fast ones first.

  It was a simple and easy plan to remember. So she felt like it should work. Karen could feel her bones shaking in her body as she moved around the last corner of the fence.

  Their backs were to Karen and they stood ten yards away. At this distance she was not sure she could hit their skulls. She took a few steps closer and moved as silently as a ninja. The closer she got to them the worse the idea seemed.

  The sun was directly above her in the afternoon sky and without sunglasses the glare off everything was painful on Karen’s retinas. Sweat dripped off her forehead and stung her blue eyes. Karen’s gun trembled at the end of her arm. Her nerves finally got the better of her and the gun went off before she was ready. She didn’t mean to squeeze the trigger. Her muscles were twitching all over her body. The round flew at her targets and ripped the ear off the trim ex-jock. The monsters made a one-eighty and took off in a sprint at her.

  Shit balls!

  In a panic she popped off four more shots. One in its neck. Second in its shoulder. Third destroyed the infected man’s nipple. Fourth got it right in the eye.

  Infected bullseye!

  His light switch was permanently flipped off and he dropped to the ground. The Hipster was next. His “I’m proud to be a nerd” glasses somehow still clung to his face and Karen wondered if the prescription somehow helped the dead man see her better.

  It was moving too fast and Karen began to backpedal away from him. The sudden movement made it even harder to aim. Her next two shots sailed over its head.

  How many shots was that?

  Six or seven?

  How many were left in the magazine?

  Then she remembered to grip the gun with both hands. The jagged steak knife poked out the bottom of her fist as she steadied her shooting hand.

  BOOM!

  That one snapped its trendy glasses in half and its limp body went down for the count.

  Only the lady with the broken ankle remained and she was right on top of Karen. There was no time to think. Only react. The infected woman’s hands were inches from Karen’s shoulders. Its teeth snapped together. The sound sickened Karen. She re-angled the gun and pointed it up under the infected woman’s jaw and BOOM. The top of the infected skull exploded into the air. Bone, brains and blood rained down on Karen as the body fell to her feet. She felt like every part of her was covered in bloody gunk. She needed to take a shower and clean herself with an S.O.S. pad.

  “Damn, chica!”

  Karen turned slowly to see Tina’s shocked face. The child in Tina’s arms pressed her own little face against the woman’s chest. She tried to hide away like a shy baby.

  “That was some cold blooded Rambo shit,” Tina walked over next to Karen. “You’re loco.” She said it as a complement.

  “I feel loco,” Karen spoke through her gritted teeth. Blood dripped off her lips and she didn’t want to get it in her mouth. She used the back of her hand and wiped some of the blood off her face.

  “The girl’s got a bracelet with her address on it. She lives in building C,” Tina said as she began to jog towards that building. Karen followed her and fought through the urge to puke all the way.

  Tina knocked at C8’s door.

  “Hey, we have your kid!” Tina heard the words as she said them and it sounded like a threat. She tried it again, “I mean we found your baby. Hello!” She knocked one more time.

  The door opened and a catatonic young woman stood at the doorway. Blood covered her hands. The blank features on the woman’s face didn’t change as the child reached for her mother.

  Tina handed over the toddler as she asked, “Are you okay?”

  “My husband tried to kill me…”

  They moved closer to the front door. Blood was all over the floor behind the woman.

  “Thanks for finding Anita. I thought the place seemed quiet. Okay, I have to go clean up my husband now.” Before Tina or Karen could say anything Mrs. Billings slammed the door in their faces.

  “What the…?” Tina was taken back.

  Karen was completely baffled and without words, but did not have time to question it. The baby was safe and she had to get home. The two women began the speed walk back to their apartments. They didn’t say a word to each other on the walk back. Neither felt the need for idle chitchat. Those five minutes of infected combat were enough to form the start of a friendship. A sisterhood of sorts. The kind of relationship that normally takes people years to manifest. It was already at the point where you no longer had to fill the void with empty conversation. They could just be in each other’s presence and say nothing. The two of them scurried across the grounds and only waved bye to each other as Tina made her assent up the steps to her place.

  Karen unlocked her front door and entered. She promised herself that she would not risk her life again as she locked the door behind her. She peeked in on her girls. Robin was still sleeping on the bed and Valerie was totally digging the free reign on the computer.

  Karen entered her bathroom and turned on the light. She looked like Carrie covered in pig’s blood at the prom. There was no time for a shower. She pulled a towel off the rack behind her and soaked it in the sink.

  What a bullshit day!

  Chapter 10

  Back at the East Vancouver Retirement Community, the buck-naked infected old man stomped his way towards Cliff and Morgan. In an instant Cliff had the gun in his hand. His thumb pulled back the hammer as he raised the revolver. He had never fired a gun before. The infected walked past an open door and his body glowed from the sunlight. Its combover was a mess and it exaggerated the wideness of his forehead.

  Cliff squeezed the trigger and the dead body dropped to the floor. The thrill of firing a handgun coursed through Cliff’s body. The muzzle flash. The loud smack against his ears. The jolt of the recoil and the smell of gunpowder in the air. Oh baby, that was so much easier than the cleaver. He tucked the gun back into his pocket. The barrel was hot and it singed his ass.

  “Ouch! Damn.” He pushed at the back of her chair and lifted her left wheel off of the ground so it could clear Phil’s thick arm.

  Morgan looked around the hallway and bedrooms, “This is such a mess. Who’s gonna clean this up?”

  They hit the door to the stairs and he popped it open. He pivoted her around again and moved her backwards for the flight of stairs.

  “Clifford Steven Morgan, if you fucking drop me I’ll bust you upside your damn head,” she said as she gripped her armrests. Cliff muscled her back to the edge of the stairs. He had toted her down some steps before but not by himself and never in near pitch-black conditions. She totaled a hundred and fifty pounds in the chair. It was not too bad weight wise. It was the stepping down
into the dark oblivion that made this endeavor so terrifying. If he dropped her, those old brittle bones would snap easily. He tilted her back and slowly dropped her down the first step.

  “Clifford, do you still have cable?” she turned around in her chair. He could feel her weight shift around.

  “Yes, we still have cable. Stop wiggling and be quiet. Remember?” he grunted at her.

  She whispered loudly, “I don’t wanna miss my Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network.”

  “Shh,” he leveled her out on the landing. He flashed his light around the last eight steps. The big nurse blocked their path. Morgan looked at the corpse.

  “Is that Trevor?” her voice filled with loss.

  “I don’t know.” Cliff got her stable and moved down to the dead body.

  “Look at the name tag,” she commanded.

  He flipped the piece of plastic over.

  “Yeah, it’s Trevor,” he moved the heavy body down the steps. The back of Trevor’s skull cracked on each step.

  “The one damn nurse I would have loved to have climb up on me.”

  “Mom-”

  “Morgan,” she cut him off.

  “Morgan, please stop it and be quiet,” Cliff tucked the dead body around the corner of the stairs. He had a clear shot for the door now.

  As Cliff stepped back up to the landing he slipped on the blood. He landed hard on his shins and chest. The flashlight crashed and fell down to the main floor. It landed facing the wall and cut the light to zero. Cliff let out a long painful groan.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he rubbed his sore shins and rolled over to his butt. His clothes were wet and sticky from Trevor’s blood. He scooted down the steps and found the flashlight. He checked himself out. His clothes mopped up a lot of the liquid from the steps. He held the rail as he walked back up to the landing.

  This should be fun, getting her down the slick steps.

  He moved her closer to the wall so he could use the rail to help keep his footing. Cliff inched her down step by step. When the rear wheels hit the blood they wanted to slide instantly to the next step before he was ready. The chair dropped hard and fast down the last four steps. Cliff caught her one foot from the floor. The wheelchair was laid out sideways. The flashlight was propped up so it lit both of their faces.

  Morgan looked to her son and her frightened face turned to a smile, “That was like a roller coaster.”

  “You all right?” he asked as he got her upright.

  “Yep,” she chuckled.

  He rolled her close to the door and looked through the window. Morgan’s eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see the outline of Trevor on the floor.

  “He was so gentle for a big man,” her voice choked with emotion.

  Cliff angled the light back out into the main floor hall and saw no movement. He propped the door open and pulled her wheelchair into the main hall. He had Morgan a few steps down the hall when the door to the first set of stairs creaked open. One of the creatures must have leaned against the door handle just right. Cliff froze.

  An infected body stumbled through the doorway. Many more followed. One after another they filled the hall. Their shredded bodies blocked Cliff’s only exit.

  He took the revolver out of his pocket and stepped in front of his mother. He aimed for the leader of the dead. The threat of facing so many had given Cliff another surge of adrenaline. The gun shook in his hand. The light was so dim in the hall he could barely see the sights on the gun. He was truly shooting blind. His thumbed back the hammer and fired. The shot blew apart the shoulder of the old man, but it kept coming. Cliff hammered through the last four shots. Each round he fired was a hit to the neck or torso.

  No kill shots.

  The pack of monsters moved faster now. The noise got them riled up. Cliff moved back behind Morgan and exchanged the gun for the cleaver. He knew this whole thing was a bad idea. He loved his mother but now he was going to die at this old folk’s home.

  Who was going to protect his family?

  He moved to take position in front of his mother again.

  She caught him by the arm.

  “What?” he snapped at her.

  She pointed with her free hand back over her shoulder, “Emergency exit,” she said flatly.

  Cliff turned with his flashlight and at the other end of the hall, in the dark corner with no windows was a door. “EXIT” was written on the sign above it. This was a lesson. Always know your exits before entering an infected filled building. Cliff made a mental note of that as he spun Morgan around and raced for the door.

  It opened with a click click and sunshine blasted his face. The light burned. It was the emergency side exit into the overflow parking lot of the building.

  Cliff hustled down the sidewalk back to the front of the building. As he rounded the corner his breath was taken away. He came to a complete stop. A mix of nurses and old people stood between him and the truck.

  All infected. Fifteen monsters total. They had not spotted the two living humans yet. Cliff put the bag on the ground and unzipped it. He squatted down, dug through Morgan’s clothes and pills, found the box of ammo and pulled it out. He clumsily opened the box and pushed the cylinder out from the gun. The empty shells fell to the ground. The brass rattled across the sidewalk giving away their position.

  “Clifford?” she turned in her seat to look at what her son was up to.

  Cliff looked up. The monsters heard the brass and the able-bodied nurses took off in a sprint. Click click. Behind them the emergency door opened and the dozen they left inside were on their way to lunch.

  Cliff was all thumbs as he pushed the six rounds into the cylinder. The infected were so close. The last shell was crammed into its chamber. He grabbed the cleaver from the ground next to the bag.

  As he stood up from the squat, he sighted in the front-runner. When Cliff pulled the trigger the monster’s forehead was two inches from the barrel of the gun. Its head exploded at point blank range. Cliff stepped to the side as its body continued to run for a few steps.

  Without thinking he cracked off the next five rounds and all of the infected nurses were gunned down less than a foot away from him. Cliff got so jacked up he lost count and dry fired a few times. With all of the fast ones taken out he felt a little relief. The old dead bodies were dangerous slugs shuffling around him.

  Cliff got the wheelchair rolling again. They glided down a ramp and out into the parking lot. He got up enough speed that they left the monsters by the door in the dust.

  He looped around the parking lot and was able to outrun the infected to the truck. The monsters seemed confused by the moving target. They stumbled out and away from Cliff’s vehicle. He circled around the whole lot and was able to get Morgan to the driver’s side of the truck. The infected changed direction again and headed back towards the Dodge.

  Cliff got his keys from his pocket and popped open the door. The monsters were only feet from the passenger’s side. Cliff tossed the bag onto the floorboard and the cleaver up onto the dash. He slid his arm under the back of Morgan’s knees and under her armpit. He hoisted her up out of the chair and got her onto the driver’s seat. Once he got her stable she had enough upper body strength to pull herself across the center seat and into the passenger’s.

  Bloody hands banged at the window next to Morgan. She looked out the window at her old cribbage buddy. Digits missing from its hand, tip of its nose was bitten clean off and its right cheek was torn open exposing his teeth. His old eyes had turned black. To Morgan they looked sad and lost like an old abandoned dog.

  “Oh God, Sal. What happened to you?!” Morgan reached out and touched the glass that separated them.

  Cliff folded the chair and tossed it into the back. Another set of wrinkled hands grabbed the edge of the truck bed. The mangled ex-human used the side of the truck and the tailgate to pull itself along faster. Cliff climbed in and slammed his door shut. He forced the key into the ignition. Dea
d hands thrashed at the sides of the vehicle. The engine fired up and Cliff threw it into reverse.

  As he backed up, three monsters were taken under the back wheels. The infected speed bumps tossed the building supplies and Morgan’s chair around. Cliff cranked on the four-wheel-drive and it launched the Dodge over the crushed bodies. Morgan’s body wobbled in the passenger’s seat. She grabbed at the door’s handle for support.

  “You need to install a set of oh-shit grips,” she looked at her son.

  “What?”

  The front tires bounced off the dead. Morgan mimed holding a set of handles on the ceiling of the truck.

  “You bolt on a set of handles. We called them oh-shit grips back in the day.”

  The infected chased after them but they fell behind as Cliff pulled out onto the street. He watched the dark building shrink in the distance. It killed him three years ago when he had to put Morgan in that home. There was not enough space to keep her in his apartment and his older brother and sister were worthless meth-heads. Most of their energy went into ripping off the government every month with a disability claim. So they were no help with her at all.

  Cliff looked back over at her as they sped away.

  She gave him two thumbs up. It was her signature move anytime she was super jazzed about something. “That was exciting,” she yelled over the roar of the engine. It had been a long time since she had given him the double thumbs up.

  Morgan was nearly forty when she gave birth to Cliff. Doctors said it was not safe for her to carry another child at that age, especially with her party vices. But no one told Morgan what to do. She wanted to show the bastard doctors that they didn’t know dick. For the nine months she was pregnant she lived like a nun. She kicked every bad habit cold turkey for her little man. During Cliff’s childhood she stayed clean and sober. Once Cliff hit his mid-teens she fell off the wagon hard. Cliff always assumed she was making up for lost time.

  Cliff’s heart rate slowed to a normal pace. A drop of sweat rolled down his shaved head and fell from his nose. The running and lifting in the warm spring sun had worked up a good layer of sweat under his jacket. With a twist of a knob the AC blasted the two of them in the face. He dropped the zipper on his jacket to mid chest.