He sat back up, staring down at her lifeless form. Like a giddy child at Christmas, he slowly pulled the pillow back and took everything in, from her wide eyes to her frozen scream. He placed the pillow down on the bed next to her and stood back up. With the care of a mother, he pulled the blankets tight, removing the ripples, and then tucked them up to her chin.
He took in the scene one final time, hoping the image would never fade from his memory, but knowing it would.
A quick check of his shirt and pants proved his worst fears come true – she had messed up his clothes. He tucked the loose ends of his shirt in and brushed at his pants, making sure every last scrap of dust was removed. He double checked over his whole body. A mirror would have helped, but he felt fairly confident that his attire was acceptable for now.
The room was tiny, really just a bed and dresser. One at a time, he pulled drawers out and carefully went through their contents. Each item was taken out individually, checked over, smelled, and meticulously put back in its place.
Even knowing that it would take at least several hours for her to turn, he still occasionally glanced over at the body. This upset him. He had the visual image he wanted, and she was messing it all up. Everything had been perfect. His whole life had been perfect and now the infected were messing it all up. Several deep breaths calmed him and cooled his simmering rage.
In the bottom drawer he finally found what he was looking for. With the steady hands of a mom pulling a newborn from their bassinet, he lifted the heart charm. With a careful flick he opened it and read the inscription inside – Until Forever, Nathan. He snapped it closed and tucked it in his shirt pocket. He stroked the pocket, absently trying to flatten the bulge.
“I know just the individual that requires this.” He whispered to himself.
******
“Every week we’ve been seeing more and more infected in the trees. Leave’n the cities.” Hannah whispered. She pointed to the nearest infected. “See the one in pink there? They don’t like the snow. Typically they’ll only go through it if they have a reason.”
Tom watched the woman in a matching pink jumpsuit continually step off the rocky bank into the powdery snow and then back again.
Hannah continued, “Winter has mostly kept them at bay, but with the snow melting they’re starting to spread out.”
“Let’s avoid them. I don’t want to be their reason for entering the snow.”
Hannah nodded her head in agreement. The two of them remained crouched in the snow behind a fallen pine. “On my way up I ran out of passible road. Truck’s parked maybe a half mile further down.”
Tom nodded and pointed to a shallow ravine that knifed away from the small group of infected. “We cut through there. It’ll lead down around the hillside. Might have a short climb back up to the road.”
Hannah grabbed the Ruger Mini-14 off her back and checked the chamber. She already knew it was loaded, but habit always took over. The old walnut stock brought back memories of shooting cans with her dad when she was little. It was the only thing she took from his house. Just ahead of her, Tom was already crouched low, working the length of the fallen tree. He had his rifle out at low ready.
Occasional deep snow drifts made breaking trail exhausting. His legs were burning with exertion and his face dripped sweat despite the cold. The snow got deeper as he entered the ravine, some of the drifts nearly reaching his crotch. He glanced back real quick to check on Hannah. She was right behind him, a look of determination etched across her face.
They had barely made it into the ravine when an infected stumbled to the edge and spotted them. The ragged man immediately began huffing into the sky, calling to anyone within earshot. In the remote mountains, Tom hadn’t seen infected in months, but it all came rushing back in an instant. All the terrifying memories he had pushed to the back of his mind immediately popped front and center. His stomach clenched and skin tingled with fear. What have I done? What am I doing?
Tom pulled up his compound bow, drew back, and with the muscle memory built by thousands of shots, let the arrow fly. The shot struck the demented in the chest, silencing him as he tumbled over the edge. Tom threw the bow over his shoulder with his homemade sling and drew his rifle. “There went the quiet.”
“Movement ten o’clock.” Hannah shouted from behind him.
“Save your shots.” No longer concerned about being spotted, he picked up the pace, high kneeing and plowing through the snow as quick as possible. He looked up to see an infected scrambling over the ravine’s edge and beginning his descent. The thick snow tripped him up and he fell-slid face first down the slope.
A loud shrieking echoed out of the trees ahead.
“No visual.” Tom shouted.
“Movement high right.”
Tom looked up and saw the dark form shifting between the trees. It hadn’t yet reached the lip of the ravine, but was moving almost diagonal to their position and would be out in the open soon. To Tom’s left, the demented that had fallen was struggling back to his feet. Tom raised his rifle to put him down for good.
Boom.
Hannah’s rifle sounded from behind him. The shot caught the demented in the side of the head, spinning him sideways and splattering red across the snow.
Tom lowered his rifle and continued his downhill rush. His legs were on fire, lactic acid boiling through the muscle tissue.
Another bark from Hannah’s rifle took out a demented that reached the edge of the ravine out ahead of them. Tom checked behind him to see if Hannah was falling back. He was shocked to see her lowering the mini-14 and continuing to sprint almost directly behind him. Wishing he wouldn’t have wasted time checking on her, Tom pushed ahead, grunting with effort.
The ravine took a slow turn, flattened out, and then faded away into a large hillside. At the top, the road’s silver guardrail poked out above the white snow. The red paint of Hannah’s truck could just be seen down around the turn. Ahead of Tom, drawn to the noise, were more than a dozen infected. Some of them staggered with slow awkward movements, while many sprinted toward them, oblivious to the snow. The first demented were just beginning to clear the guardrail.
“See them?” Tom shouted.
“Yeah. More to the right.”
It only took a peek to the right to see that there were a half dozen or more demented rushing out of the trees in a pack. They hadn’t yet cleared the ridge, but soon would. Tom knew they couldn’t allow themselves to get pinned down in the bottom of the ravine.
Hannah must have thought the same thing when she said, “We need the high ground.”
Tom was exhausted, but knew he had to make the hill to the truck. “Cover right.” He shouted as he slowed to a stop, raised his rifle, and sighted on the nearest one. Two rapid shots brought it down.
Hannah’s rifle roared to life next to him as she began raking fire along the ridgeline.
One after another Tom continued to drop infected as they crossed over the guardrail. “We gotta move.” Tom shouted. Immediately after the words were out, he lowered his rifle and began racing up the hillside. He slung his rifle onto his back and pulled the pistol from his side holster. Demented continued to pile over the rail.
“Tom!” Hannah screamed from behind him.
He turned to see her hunched over, working on her boot. Unable to tell what the problem was, Tom stood motionless, caught between rushing back down to her and turning to defend both of them from charging demented. Three more demented raced in from the side as well. Mind made up, Tom sprinted back down the slick hillside.
“My leg’s tangled.” Hannah shouted.
Tom holstered his pistol as he came sliding up to her. Her boot was snagged on a twisted coil of barbed wire fencing that snaked its way under the snow out of sight. He pulled his Leatherman from his pants pocket. His cold fingers fumbled with the icy steel, trying to flip it open.
“They’re coming.” Hannah shouted while raising her rifle.
The concussion was mind numbing
so close to Tom’s head. The muzzle flash was blinding. Hot shell casings bounced off his snow parka and disappeared into the white void.
He flipped the Leatherman fully open and used the wire cutter to snip the barbed wire on both sides of Hannah’s boot, leaving a bundle of it still attached. Good enough. He pulled his pistol back out and spun toward the demented he knew were coming at them from the side. He felt slow, like his body was stuck in sludge. The ringing in his ears was disorienting. The small pack was nearly on top of him. He hastily pulled the trigger, firing volley after volley into the mass. Demented rapidly dropped to the barrage of lead. Behind him, Hannah continued to fire up the hillside.
“I’m out.” She shouted.
Tom knew he had nearly run his pistol dry as well. With only a couple slow moving undead remaining, he said, “Let’s move.”
Hannah shouldered her rifle and drew her .357 revolver from her side. It looked like a cannon in her small hands, but she was comfortable with her old service revolver. Ahead of her several more infected raced out of control down the hill. Powdery snow blew to the sides around them, swirling in their wake. The revolver roared and kicked. Her first shots went wide.
Tom fired into the group, dropping one of them, and then his pistol ran out. He quickly holstered the pistol and grabbed the rifle off his back. The two of them started storming up the hill, blasting away at anything that moved. Hannah rushed up beside Tom, blazing her own trail and freeing up her view ahead. They reached the top and climbed over the guard rail.
Tom hunched over, desperately sucking in air. He heaved up the morning’s breakfast onto the snow.
“Movement beyond the truck.” Hannah said.
Still bent over, Tom glanced at Hannah to see her standing rock steady, revolver held out with both hands in front of her. She’s barely breathing…must be a robot. He thought with a shake of his head.
“Hurry, they’re coming up the road.” She said.
Beyond the truck was a large group of demented, all working their way up the road, drawn to the chaos. For there to have been this many this far from populated areas meant they must have been drawn to Hannah’s truck from her drive up.
“Too many.” Tom shouted as they raced toward the truck.
Hannah sprinted out ahead of him, holstering her pistol as she ran. She slid to a stop at the driver side door, already reaching for her keys. Out of her periphery she could see the first demented nearly to the back of the truck.
Tom piled into the passenger seat just as Hannah was jamming the key into the ignition. Before he even had time to say “please start,” the engine roared to life. Hannah slammed the shift on the column into reverse and stomped on the gas. The tires spun trying to get traction. Demented raced up to the windows and began pounding on the glass. The tires caught and accelerated the truck backwards, hitting bodies as they went. The truck bounced as they plowed over infected. Hannah kept on the gas even after they were well past the group. As they came to a wide section of road she hit the brake, spun the wheel, and jammed the gear shift into drive.
Hannah felt more alive than she had in months. With a smile she said, “Now we go get someone you’re really going to like.”
Chapter 3 - Snake
“Look sharp, we got movement.” A man in faded camo said.
The man next to him looked up from a magazine, the worn cover mostly white from use. “Whatta we got?”
They both leaned forward, resting their elbows on the edge of the lookout tower railing. A narrow gravel road twisted its way through the forest out of sight. Patches of snow still clung to life in the protective shade of trees. Back in the forest, flashes of movement could be seen.
Charlie felt a sense of dread, reached over for his crossbow, hesitated, and then grabbed his rifle instead. He pulled the stock up to his shoulder and sighted through the scope.
“Don’t shoot if ya don’t have to.” The other man said.
“Really? Boy, I didn’t know that.” Charlie looked over at the other man. “You tell me that every flippin’ time.” He shifted back to the scope, scanning the trees for movement. He saw it again, a blur of red hidden amongst the thick canopy. It was moving fast…too fast to be infected. “We got a vehicle. Call it out.”
The other man grabbed his rifle and quickly stood. He hesitated, then took a few steps toward the drop ladder, and then stopped again.
Without looking at him, Charlie said, “The council, go tell the council a car is coming.” He let out a deep sigh and continued to watch the tree line, waiting for the car to appear in the clearing.
The aluminum ladder rattled as the other man made his way down to the ground.
What a dufus . Charlie continued to glass the road as a red truck came bursting out into the open. He immediately recognized this as the truck Hannah left in. Still using the rifle scope, he tried to get a look in the windshield, but the sunlight glared off the glass, making it impossible to verify the occupants. The truck continued at high speed, stirring up loose pine needles and sending them billowing to the sides.
Charlie quickly stood and raced for the ladder.
******
Tom and Hannah emerged from the forest. Ahead of them was what Hannah had referred to as “The Compound.” Tom was impressed by the structure they had built out in the middle of nowhere. It looked like something out of the frontier days – tall lookout towers surrounded by log walls. The forest had been cleared in a 200 yard swath all the way around, offering an excellent view of anything that approached.
Tom looked over at Hannah and said, “Lot more work to build than take something over.”
Hannah began to slow the truck as they neared the front gate. “The council deemed it necessary…mostly to get away from populated areas.”
“Makes sense. Who built it?”
“Everyone earned a spot by building. The council has—“She started to say, but was cut short when she hit the brakes to stop before a giant metal gate that looked to be made from a couple green farm gates and a mile of barbed wire.
The truck sat idling. Hannah didn’t say anything, which made Tom think this must be normal, so he just waited it out as well. A couple minutes later a small, man sized door to the side of the gate swung open and several men poured out of the opening. They all shouldered black assault rifles, aiming them at the truck’s windshield as they spread out, circling the truck.
Hannah rolled her window down. “Hi Charlie.”
The man lowered his rifle. “How did it go?”
Ignoring the man’s question, she said, “We need to see the council.”
“Any contact?”
“No.”
The man leaned in toward the open window, looking past Hannah. “What about him…quarantine?”
Tom sat still, not wanting to say the wrong thing.
“No, I can vouch for him.”
“Not up to me, but we can clear you through the gate.” With that he stepped back and signaled to the man directly in front of the truck. “Alpha charlie.” He shouted.
Once the “all clear” was given the man in front disappeared through the man door, presumably to open the gate. Two of the men that had stood pointing their rifles at the truck, now moved to the back of the truck, training their rifles at the distant woods. Their vigilance gave Tom some sense of safety.
The gate swung inwards allowing the truck through. Unlike the frontier style outside, the inside was something out of a third world country. Buildings were hobbled together from sheet metal and plywood. The most extravagant homes were single wide trailer houses pulled into place. An occasional tent dotted the area with some color.
They came to a stop in front of an old two story farmhouse. A pair of men with rifles resting across their laps sat in rickety wooden chairs on the covered, wrap-around porch. Both of them slowly stood as the truck doors were opening. When they saw Tom, an outsider, both of them raised their rifles, pointing the barrels directly at his head.
“Whoa.” Tom said while rai
sing both of his hands.
Hannah came running around the front of the truck. “Come on guys, he’s with me.”
“Don’t matter. Needs quarantined.”
“He hasn’t been around any infected. He lives up— “Hannah started to say, but stopped short when a man stepped out of the front door.
“Well hi Hannah, I am so glad to see you return safely.” The nicely dressed man said.
A huge smile broke across Hannah’s face. “Miles! Glad you came out.” She said while moving up the steps. “I was just telling Logan that Tom is clean.”
Miles looked over at Logan and said, “Why don’t you two go patrol around. I’ll take care of this.”
They both hesitated for a bit. Miles gave them a shooing motion with his hands, causing both of them to share a look with each other, shrug their shoulders, and move off down the porch.
“I’m sorry about that dear.” Miles said while stepping over to Hannah. “Guards are just doing their thing. I trust you know what you are doing.” He glanced at Tom, then back at Hannah, never breaking a smile. “So, who is our new guest?”
“Remember what Hank said?” She glanced back at Tom, sweeping her arm out. “This is the guy…Tom.”
For a brief moment Miles’s smile slipped, but was immediately back in full force. “Well, well, well, great job.” He said. “So do you—“
“They found it.” The man hollered as he rounded the corner of the house, pounding across the wooden planks. It was one of the two guards from before. “The guys were searching house by house, like you said, and came across the pendant.”
Miles turned to the worked up man. “That was rather rude to come barreling up here and interrupt our conversation.” He said in a scolding tone.
The man took a step back. “Sorry…I can…later.”
With the smile turned back on, Miles said, “No, you have already interrupted, so let us make it valuable. What have you found?”
“Brenda’s heart thing…has Nathan’s name in it just like her sister said it would.”
The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion Page 2
