Infected

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Infected Page 2

by V. A. Brandon


  The night before, Amy thought she and Patrick had shared a “moment.” Now, that feeling was gone. In a way, she was relieved that he was back to his old, whiny self; she didn’t think she could handle being friendly with someone who had kicked an old lady off a balcony just to save his miserable ass. When push came to shove, he would never linger around to help anyone. She had to remember that.

  Walter barked happily, snapping Amy out of her thoughts. With a smile, she bent down to pick him up. His fur was tangled and smelly, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  “You stink, boy,” she muttered. “You need a shower.”

  At the word shower, Walter bared his canines and growled.

  Justin laughed heartily. “Maybe you can dunk him in the stream later, after we’ve had breakfast.”

  “Good idea.”

  Exchanging lighthearted banter, they made their way down to the mansion and entered the foyer.

  ***

  After breakfasting on frankfurters, beef stew, and canned coffee, Justin and Daniel went out to the place they now referred to as “The Peak” to observe the movements of the hordes. Meanwhile, Amy and Marie spent all morning and afternoon cleaning the first floor to make their living quarters more comfortable. Using makeshift brooms and pieces of torn curtains as rags, they swept the floors and wiped every window pane and surface they could reach. When Patrick kept getting in the way, they sent him into the woods with an empty bucket to get water from the stream.

  By the time they were finished, the place looked fairly presentable. Except for the strips of yellowed, peeling wallpaper hanging above their heads. Amy shivered as she gazed up at them.

  “I wish we could take them down,” she murmured. “They really add to the creepy factor.”

  Marie nodded. “Yes, I agree. But we can do that tomorrow. There is plenty of time.”

  Because they had no use for the actual kitchen, they decided to unpack the food and stack the cans, boxes, and cartons near the foyer for easy access. Once that was done, Marie took out new clothes and underwear from one of the boxes, along with a travel kit of toiletries and an old rolling pin she’d previously found in the kitchen. She looked up at Amy, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

  “We should go to the stream and bathe. You, too, Walter,” she added, grabbing the pooch before he could make his escape.

  Amy paused. “You mean, out in the open?” Immediately after she voiced that thought, she realized how ludicrous it was. No one would see them. The boys were at The Peak, and the area was pretty secluded. She was being paranoid for nothing.

  “We need to wash. Right now, that is more important to me.” Marie stood up and strode toward the door. “Do not be shy, Amy. What is that saying? ‘I do not chew’?”

  Laughing, Amy followed after her. “You mean, ‘I don’t bite.’”

  They chattered on as they walked in the direction of the woods, relishing the warm sunlight on their faces. The idyllic atmosphere of the clinic and its surroundings, a stark contrast to the chaos that had plagued them since leaving their apartment building, almost made Amy wish that they could settle here for good. It would be such a waste to abandon a secluded place as nice as this one . . .

  “This is a good spot,” Marie said happily, and Amy snapped back to attention. Marie bent down and threw a short stick into the stream. “Get the stick, Walter. Go!”

  With an excited bark, the dog splashed into the cool water, swimming with the current. Amy grinned at her friend.

  “Oh, that was smart! You didn’t have to force him in.”

  Marie shrugged. “Dogs are always the same. They do not like showers, but they like to play in water.” Her shrewd gaze landed on the unsuspecting pooch. “While he is playing, I will lather and rinse him.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.”

  They undressed and crouched at the edge of the stream to wash their days-old clothes. Amy had never hand-washed her underwear before; she’d always just taken them to the Laundromat. She snuck a covert glance at Marie, unsure of how it should be done. To her amusement, the Korean woman seemed at a loss herself; she had laid out the soapy undergarments on a rock, and was beating them to death with the rolling pin.

  Amy guffawed at the sight. “What the heck are you doing? Your underwear’s going to be riddled with holes by the time you’re done.”

  Marie paused, breathing hard from the exertion. “I have watched many Korean history dramas,” she said, looking offended. “In the old days, women washed dirty clothes like this. They beat the dirty water out.”

  A sly grin spread across Amy’s face. “Is that so? Well then, since you’re such an expert, maybe you could wash all our clothes then.” She snatched up the small bottle of shampoo and clean clothes and rose to her feet. “I’m going to have my bath now. See you later!”

  Indignant, Marie rose to her feet as well. “Then you will wash Walter!” she called out. “Take him with you!”

  That sounded like a fair exchange. Giving her the thumbs-up, Amy plucked Walter from the water and hurried farther down the stream, feeling like an exhibitionist at a nudist colony.

  ***

  Bathing with Walter had been the pits. Amy stared at the red scratch marks crisscrossing her arms and chest area as she yanked on her new clothes.

  “You did this to me,” she accused the pooch.

  In response, Walter sneezed, then dragged his butt across the grass, his furry head thrown back in ecstasy.

  In doggy language: I don’t give a crap.

  “Bit of a jerk, aren’t you?”

  Walter sneezed again and ran away, heading toward the mansion without waiting for her.

  Shaking her head, Amy was about to head the same way when she paused in mid-step, feeling guilty about leaving Marie with the laundry. She turned back, wondering if her friend had finished bathing. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, giving the sky a warm, pinkish glow. It would get dark soon.

  A short distance away, Marie was still crouching over the stream, piling her wet hair into a bun on top of her head. Amy raised a hand, about to call out, when she detected a slight movement in the trees behind Marie.

  Amy froze in her tracks. Was it a Runner?

  No, it couldn’t be. Marie was out in the open, visible to anything hiding in the trees. If it was a Runner, she’d have been a goner by now.

  So what was it?

  Amy edged closer, straining to see. There was definitely something there; she hadn’t imagined it. A moment later, she caught a flash of chestnut-colored hair and knew instantly.

  Patrick.

  He was standing perfectly still behind a tree trunk, his hot gaze burning into Marie’s naked form. Blissfully unaware, the Korean woman straightened, singing in a low key as she dried her body with a small towel.

  “Marie!” Amy called out, jogging over to her.

  “Where is Walter?” Marie asked as Amy quickly came up and stood behind her friend, blocking Patrick’s view.

  Amy let out a forced laugh. “The little mutt abandoned me and went to the mansion.” She hurriedly picked up the clean clothes. “C’mon, it’s getting cold. Put these on.”

  Marie smiled, grateful. “Thank you, Amy.”

  Together, they carried the laundry and strolled away from the stream. As Marie walked a few paces ahead, Amy paused to cast a quick glance over her shoulder, to check if Patrick was still lingering around.

  The hiding spot was empty.

  He was gone.

  Chapter 3

  They began to fall into a routine: in the mornings, Amy and Marie would go to The Peak to observe the Runners’ movements on the highway. Around mid-afternoon, Justin and Daniel would take their place and stay well into evening, when they would return to have dinner with the rest of the group and discuss their findings.

  On the fourth night, the group huddled in the main room, eating chicken noodle soup with baked potatoes and marshmallows for dessert. In the corner, Walter dined on filet mignon and bacon bits,
courtesy of some fancy dog food brand that Marie had picked up at the supermarket. He was eating better than the rest of them.

  “I think it’s time,” Justin said, popping a fat marshmallow into his mouth.

  Amy sat up, narrowing her eyes. “Time for what?”

  “Time for us to leave,” Daniel explained. The flickering flames on the candles cast long shadows across the walls. “We have been here for three days, watching the Runners’ movements. We have a good idea of their schedule now.”

  Amy burst out laughing. “You make it sound like the Runners are rushing to a meeting or something.”

  “In a sense, maybe they are,” Justin said, shrugging. “At least, that’s my theory, anyway.”

  Patrick snorted. “Let’s hear this theory of yours, then. Go on – don’t get coy on us.”

  Ignoring the older man’s sarcasm, Justin straightened, his expression serious as his gaze landed on Amy.

  “Tell me again what you saw during the past three mornings.”

  “On the first day, the horde ran past around seven in the morning, I think. Then at eight-thirty for the next two days.”

  Daniel nodded. “And Justin and I saw the horde go past between three and seven in the evenings.”

  “You see the pattern here, don’t you?” Justin smiled at the rest of the group. When Amy, Marie, and Patrick stared at him blankly, his smile grew wider. “The hordes move during rush hour.”

  A lengthy pause greeted this revelation. Then Patrick barked out a derisive noise.

  “That’s preposterous. Yeah, that’s some theory you’ve got there.” He rolled his eyes and snatched up the entire bag of marshmallows for himself.

  Marie, on the other hand, seemed more contemplative. “Why do they move during rush hour? Where are they going?”

  “Nowhere. They just stay on the highway.” A furrow formed between Justin’s brows. “Prior to the infection, they must have traveled on Great Memorial Highway day in and out, probably to get to work. It was a route that was ingrained into them. And it seems old habits die hard, even when you become a mindless cannibal.”

  Justin’s theory did make sense. The remaining Runners at Central Creek Mall hadn’t left the mall to chase after their victims, unlike the rest of the infected. They had stayed to consume the dead . . .

  “The Runners at the mall,” Amy croaked. “Many of them had name tags on, and some wore uniforms.” When Justin gave her an encouraging smile, she continued. “Among the infected, the mall workers – sales assistants, managers, baristas, cleaners . . . they were the ones that stayed back to roam the area.”

  “Exactly, because the mall was a big part of their lives. That’s why they didn’t move on,” Justin explained. “Being there was ingrained into their system.”

  “And your neighbor Troy Robinson,” Amy went on. Daniel and Marie shot her surprised looks. “He was on his way to work that morning, but he came back to his apartment building even after he was bitten.”

  Justin nodded with a heavy sigh. “He loved his apartment. Told me once that he inherited the place from his great-aunt.”

  “Well, this is great and everything, but how does this information help us?” Patrick dusted off the powdery residue coating his fingers and folded his arms. “How will it help us get to the farm?”

  “It will help us a lot,” Daniel replied. “Now we know when to be on the highway, and when to avoid the hordes.”

  Amy began to feel tentatively hopeful. “Guys, this is great. Just think – in a day or so, we’ll be at the farm. And we’ll see Garrett and Benson again.”

  At the mention of Benson’s name, Walter’s ears quirked up.

  “Will we leave tomorrow morning?” Daniel asked, but Justin shook his head no.

  “I was hoping you and I might go on a test run, see if we’re right,” he answered. “We’ll have to leave right after the horde moves in the morning.”

  “Is there a need for that?” Now that things were looking up, Amy didn’t want to waste any more time. The clinic had been safe so far, but what she really wanted was to get settled in the farm. “Garrett said it would take us about two hours to get there. If we leave right after the horde goes past, then we should get to Harold’s Diner by midday, no problem.”

  Doubt pooled in Justin’s eyes. “That’s in the best-case scenario. And past experience has shown us that things don’t always go the way we want them to. We need to make sure that we don’t run into any problems again.”

  Amy couldn’t argue with that. Glum, she gave a weary nod, her eyes downcast.

  “It is only for one more day,” Marie said, her tone soothing as she patted Amy’s arm.

  One more day. And yet to Amy, the words sounded like light-years away.

  ***

  The next morning, Justin and Daniel drove the station wagon down the hilly road soon after the horde went past. Amy and Marie stood on The Peak, watching with trepidation as the wagon turned right and entered the highway.

  “Not so fast, they might hear you,” Amy muttered under her breath, wishing that the guys had hung back a bit, had put a bit of distance between them and the horde.

  Marie turned away. “I cannot watch this. It is making me very nervous.” She crouched down and caressed Walter, who was sprawled on the grass at their feet. He quickly sat up and wagged his tail, reveling in her attention.

  “While they’re gone, maybe we should start packing some of our stuff,” Amy suggested as she squatted beside Marie. “I want to get a good night’s sleep before we leave tomorrow, not stay up and pack.”

  “Yes, I agree. What should we do first?”

  “We’ll box up all the unopened cans and packages of food and put them outside, where they’ll be easier to move when the guys return. Let’s see . . . what else?” She paused to think, tapping a finger against her mouth, before shooting her friend a sly grin. “Oh, yes. The laundry has to be done one last time before we leave. Care to volunteer your expert services?”

  Marie’s shoulders slumped as she sighed in defeat. “Very well. In the meantime, what will you do?”

  For the past couple of days, Amy had been itching to get Patrick away from the others, to speak with him privately. She was the only one in the group aware of his voyeuristic nature, and she fully intended to nip his unseemly habits in the bud before the others found out. Things could get real ugly if Daniel knew the older man had violated his wife’s privacy while he wasn’t around.

  “I think Patrick and I should stay here and wait for the guys’ return. They may need our help. For all we know, they could unwittingly lead several Runners right into our midst.” Amy frowned, then nodded at Walter. “You should take him with you, by the way. If there’s a Runner nearby in the woods, he’ll know.”

  They strolled back to the mansion, rolled up their sleeves, and got to work. Patrick was nowhere to be seen. As they busily packed away, Walter kept nudging them aside to poke his furry head into the open boxes. Fed up with his nosy behavior and the delays he was causing them, Amy finally shooed him out, ignoring Marie’s protests.

  It was after midday when they carried the last full box outside. Seeing the women a short distance away, Walter came bounding back to them, his dark fur tangled with burrs and bits of dried leaves.

  “Walter! What happened to you?” Marie cried as she cradled the pooch in her arms.

  Amy smiled as she pulled out a burr. “Just be grateful that he didn’t come back with a snout full of porcupine quills.” Lifting her head, she scanned their surroundings, a frustrated sound rising from her throat. “And where is Patrick? Why is it that we only see him when we eat and sleep? It’s so annoying.”

  Marie gave a who-cares shrug. “It does not bother me. I am happy that he is out of my way.” Bending down, she picked up the wrinkled clothes at their feet and moved toward the woods.

  “Don’t take too long, okay?” Amy called out. “They don’t have to be ultra clean or anything.”

  With a nod of acknowledgment, Mar
ie hurried along, craning forward to murmur to Walter as they disappeared into the trees.

  Amy stood there, wondering if she should follow behind and keep an eye on them for a while. But Justin and Daniel would be back at any moment, and she had to find Patrick before then. She had heard soft creaking sounds coming from the second floor while packing. Deciding to begin her search there, she returned to the foyer and crept up the grand staircase, her eyes darting upward.

  “Please let it be Patrick and not a Runner trapped in a walk-in closet somewhere,” she muttered nervously as she continued her trek up the marble steps.

  ***

  To Amy’s relief, there was no Runner on the second floor. To her annoyance, Patrick wasn’t there, either. The sounds had probably been the old mansion settling, like an elderly gentleman with popping knee joints. She walked down the staircase, wondering where Patrick could be, when the sounds of a car braking reached her ears.

  Justin and Daniel were back.

  “Damn,” she swore softly. Her talk with Patrick would have to wait. She quickened her footsteps, then let out an embarrassing grunt when she slammed into Justin at the doorway. He laughed and gathered her in for a bear hug.

  “I’m guessing the test run went well?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  Daniel squeezed past them and went inside. “We are alive, and no Runners followed us.” He shot her a brilliant smile. “So yes, it went well.”

  “We even had time to fill up the tank on the way back,” Justin added, releasing her, “so we’re good to go tomorrow.” Sauntering inside, he grabbed one of the opened potato crisp bags lying on the ground. “Where are the others?” he asked, stuffing a handful of crisps into his mouth.

  “Marie’s doing the laundry, and Patrick is . . . somewhere,” Amy said. “And Walter’s keeping Marie company.”

  Daniel’s brows knotted. “You do not know where he is?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. He disappeared right after breakfast, I think.”

  His frown deepened. “I do not like the sound of that.” As he shuffled back into the afternoon sunlight, Justin and Amy exchanged glances.

 

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