Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 4-7]

by DeGordick, Jeff

  "What happened to your mommy?" Sarah asked, not sure how sensitive Amanda was to the memories. "And your daddy?"

  "We went to church and they died," she said matter-of-factly as she stared ahead at the dark street. It didn't seem like she said it out of coldness, but just that she was so used to the reality that it didn't faze her.

  "I'm so sorry, sweetie," Sarah said. Her heart ached for the little angel next to her and the thought of scooping her up into her arms and squeezing her with all her might worked through her mind on loop.

  "That's okay," she said. "We went to church every Sunday to pray, because mama said that God likes people who pray. We always shut the doors when we went inside, but someone left the doors open one time and the zombies came in. I hid under one of the benches until they went away."

  "My God," Sarah uttered, tears streaming down her face and almost instantly chilling in the freezing cold. "How long were you there for?"

  "Three days," Amanda said. "I counted how many times the sun came up."

  "Three days?"

  She nodded. "I saw my mama and daddy again, but they were different this time. They were one of them. And I kept wearing my dress because when we went to church that day my mama told me don't take it off because I look too pretty in it."

  Sarah finally broke down and hugged the girl. She fell on both knees and pulled her in tight. She felt Amanda seize up, but then she relaxed and eventually wrapped her own short little arms around her. Sarah kissed her cheek in a dirty part that she hadn't cleaned, but to her in that moment, the little girl may as well have been her own.

  They carried on down the road with Sarah periodically checking in to make sure they were still going the right way. Amanda kept insisting that it wasn't too much farther and they truly hadn't moved very far away from the department store, nor even from the church where Curt and his group were staying. She held Amanda's tiny hand nestled inside of hers, and she was surprised at how warm it was when her own were ice cold.

  "Did David turn into one of them too?" Amanda asked suddenly.

  Sarah felt her throat instinctively tighten. It was a reaction that she was used to now whenever she revisited a particularly painful memory of her son, and one that she was still frustrated that she couldn't break its spell over her. She didn't blame Amanda for bringing it up, but at the same time she took a moment to pause and let her throat open and allow the words to come out.

  "Yes, he did," she said weakly. "But you would've liked him before, I think."

  Amanda looked at her. "I would?"

  "Definitely," Sarah replied. "You remind me a lot of him."

  "He sounds nice."

  "So where did you come from?" Sarah asked, trying to shift the subject a little.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Have you always lived in Raleigh?"

  Again, Amanda just stared at her. She didn't even understand the concept that there was something outside of the city she was in. It was all she knew and suddenly Sarah was reminded of David again and how she had kept him inside the townhouses in Virginia, forcing him to lead a very sheltered life. But David knew that there was more out there than just the townhouses; she at least told him that. Then the terrible thought crossed her mind that if she hadn't told David anything, hadn't taught him how to read, or that there was a life outside of the courtyard and the fences, that maybe he would still be alive and maybe they would be happily eking out an existence by themselves where they were both safe. Not a great life, but a happy one.

  Sarah quickened her pace, tugging Amanda along. The sooner they got to wherever they were going, the sooner she could take her mind off of such things. "How much further?"

  "We're almost there," Amanda said. "It's just through that alley." They were passing a convention center and a narrow gap sat on the other side of it, wedged between it and an old town history center. They passed quite closely by the front doors of the convention center and then the doors swung open and a small group of people came out. Sarah bumped into one of them and they both jumped back in shock and drew their weapons at each other.

  "There you are!" Curt cried. "We were looking everywhere for you!"

  Wayne and Sarah both lowered their pistols at the same time, and Wayne couldn't help a little grin. "You're getting faster on your draw," he told her.

  Sarah smiled and put her gun away, realizing that she hadn't even reloaded it yet as she did so.

  "I was worried sick about you, butt munch," Carly said, stepping forward and popping her in the arm. "Hey, what's that smell? Are you wearing perfume?"

  "Don't ask. And sorry, I tried to catch up with you guys but I found her and couldn't leave her alone."

  Everyone's gaze shifted to Amanda whose eyes were wide again and she slowly retreated away from them in fear.

  "No, it's okay!" Sarah reassured her quickly. "Honey, don't worry, you're safe. I know these people."

  Amanda began to calm, though she still looked from person to person, not warming up to the idea of getting any closer to them.

  "She's pretty shy around people," Sarah explained to them. "She's been on her own for a while."

  "Well we lost the tail," Curt informed her. "The zombie just took off running at one point and got away, and we couldn't find where it went. Then we were too busy looking for you."

  "It doesn't matter," Sarah said. "Amanda here knows where the scratchers come from."

  "Scratchers?" Wayne said, raising an eyebrow.

  "It's what she calls them," Sarah said with a shrug. "I kind of like it."

  "How does she know that?" Curt asked.

  "She just does," Sarah said. "Didn't you say it was right through that alley?" she asked Amanda, leaning over in front of her.

  She was too timid to speak in front of the others, but she slowly nodded her head up and down.

  The six of them slipped into the alley and made their way through toward Cabarrus Street. They stopped behind a dumpster pressed up lengthwise against the wall at the end of the alley just before they reached the sidewalk.

  "Where is it?" Sarah asked. "Can you see it from here?"

  Amanda nodded. She stretched out her slender arm and pointed to a brown building to the left of them across the street.

  "The police station?" Curt asked.

  "Is that the one, Amanda?" Sarah asked.

  She nodded.

  "I don't see anything so unusual about it," Ron commented.

  "Look," Wayne told them. "On the roof."

  They all missed it at first, but standing on the roof, almost completely blended into the dark sky behind them, were two soldiers just like the ones Sarah and Wayne had seen in the woods. They both held assault rifles and slowly patrolled from side to side, scanning the streets around them.

  "Who the hell are they?" Curt asked, surprised.

  "Shh," Sarah said softly, holding up a hand.

  They all crouched down behind the dumpster and watched. Aside from the two men on the roof, there was no activity at all in or around the building as far as they could see. The Raleigh police station looked just as desolate as every other building, and it didn't look like there was any source of light inside. But there must have been a reason for two highly-equipped soldiers to be guarding it, or at least using it as an outpost.

  A moment later, the front doors of the police station burst open. Four zombies came out into the night with no escort, no fanfare, and no explanation. They stumbled out into the street and it was apparent from the early movements they exhibited that they were scratchers, just as Amanda had promised. Each of them broke off in a different direction, seemingly with no immediate purpose. But it was one of them in particular that made Sarah's and Carly's jaws drop as it turned around and its front basked in the moonlight.

  It was Derek. The man who had spent the last few months living with them in the lawnmower repair shop, the one who had just up and went missing the night before. And now he was no more human than any other undead flesh-eater. His movements were jerky and sava
ge just like all the other scratchers, an underlying anger in him.

  The two soldiers on top of the police station sauntered over to the front edge of the roof to watch as the zombies disappeared into the night. All of them except Derek, who remained in the street longer than the others, his gnarled hands clawing at the air and his neck twitching.

  "That's him," Sarah whispered, aghast.

  "Who?" Curt asked.

  "That was the person from our camp that went missing."

  "Son of a bitch..." Curt muttered.

  They both understood at the same moment that the other survivors didn't just randomly go missing; they were kidnapped and taken here, either to be experimented on or infected. When those Navy SEALs under the bridge told Sarah that the rumor was this whole zombie virus started in Raleigh, they also brushed it off and figured that since it happened so long ago, it didn't matter anymore. But there was nothing "old news" about it; it was still going on now, and it was far more sinister than she could have imagined.

  The ghastly, wheezing, grunting shell of a man that used to be Derek started to move east along the street when the wind suddenly picked up and changed direction. It blew in a fierce gust through the alley from their backs and out into the street, carrying their scent to Derek's curious nostrils. His head tilted up toward the sky as his nose puffed up and down. Then he paused and his jaw fell open. His eyes grew twice their size and cold saliva poured down his chin as he salivated to the scent.

  The soldiers watching from atop the roof seemed to think his behavior was unusual and began leaning into each other, exchanging comments and pointing.

  Derek's head suddenly snapped toward the alley so violently that his neck popped as bone grinded against bone.

  All of them hiding behind the dumpster unconsciously started to rise as they prepared to run. One of the soldiers pointed to the alleyway immediately, spotting them and yelling something unintelligible to the other. The first one ran for a ladder on the side of the police station to get down as the other one pulled out a walkie-talkie and radioed something in.

  "RUN!" Sarah screamed.

  A moment later, Derek's legs churned into motion and he ran at them harder and faster than any of them could run themselves.

  12

  Hide and Seek

  Bullets whizzed by, striking and ricocheting off the walls of the alley. But ammunition wasn't the only thing they had to contend with as Derek closed in, gray and dried out bundles of muscle fiber in his legs somehow able to outperform them. The two soldiers ceased their fire and headed for the alley as well.

  The survivors tipped over garbage cans, shoved dumpsters, and slapped at old pallets of wood as they passed, trying to create enough wreckage to slow Derek's mad quest for their flesh. But he bounded over nearly every obstacle, and even when he struck one, it didn't seem to slow him down.

  There was a fire escape three-quarters of the way down the alley with a ladder extending to the ground. Curt and Wayne threw glances over their shoulders and took potshots behind them, but neither Derek nor the soldiers seemed to be deterred. The troops were heavily armored with the same bulky black helmets over their heads that the ones in the woods had, and who knew if a bullet would even do much to stop them?

  Sarah had Amanda hoisted up on her shoulder and she led the pack, keeping those rusted black rungs in the center of her vision and ignoring everything else. In that moment, reaching them was her one goal—her raison d'être. In the last few strides to the ladder Sarah literally leapt at it and grabbed it with her free hand. She climbed up as quickly as she could, making sure she didn't drop Amanda. Ron was the next person up, and he moved with a dexterity that wouldn't have been possible for him in any other circumstance. Carly came next, and Curt started to ascend just as Derek closed in on them. Wayne was the honorable one, making sure they all got up the ladder safely as he held the rear.

  Derek was only moments away from diving at him like a missile, and in one smooth move, never losing his cool composure for a moment, Wayne grabbed an empty aluminum garbage can next to him and threw it at the zombie. He didn't even pause to see the results before he started up the ladder.

  The garbage can struck Derek in the face and the force caused him to swivel sideways and bounce off the wall before stumbling and falling to the ground. He shot back up to his feet in a flash, but it was too late for him with Wayne already reaching the catwalk at the top.

  The building was only two stories tall and Sarah had already set Amanda down and was working on sliding open the only window there was.

  Derek jumped up crazily at them, but he was nothing more than a scratcher now, and even in his frenzied state he couldn't understand the concept of a ladder, though he periodically tried and failed, slipping and falling to the ground.

  The soldiers stopped in the middle of the alley and fired at them. The survivors crouched down as the bullets ricocheted around them and Wayne aimed and fired some shots to hold them off.

  Sarah got the window open and she hastily wrapped her arm around Amanda and hurried inside. The rest followed and Wayne got the last look at the state of their pursuers, watching one of the soldiers shoot Derek in the head to get him out of his way as he started to climb the ladder, while the other one continued to run to the end of the alley.

  When Wayne was through, he turned and slammed the window shut. "Keep moving!" he shouted.

  They found themselves inside the Raleigh Historical Center, which really looked like a normal house more than anything, but with each room filled with a number of glass display cases containing the city's history. Old paintings and photographs hung on the walls depicting landscapes and people that had undoubtedly been of interest to some people at some point, but they were now just forgotten and unknowable faces. The room they were in now was quite large with a staircase leading down to the ground floor in front of them, and a couple rooms on the wall next to it. All the glass cases around them were set up on wooden folding tables that were skirted in black cloth draping down to the floor, making the displays look a lot nicer than they actually were.

  But none of them stopped to take in any of the scenery and they climbed down the stairs heading for the front door, causing the interior of the house to sound like a herd of elephants stampeding. Curt and Ron were the first ones down and suddenly they stopped, seeing a shadow appear through the curtain-shrouded window in the front door, and they knew that one of them had gone around to cut off their escape.

  "Hide!" Ron cried, and he and Curt searched for somewhere to stow themselves away on the ground floor while the others retreated back up to the second floor.

  Wayne took cover in the first room at the top of the stairs, what looked like an old bedroom that had been turned into another display room with old models and artifacts lining the edges of it. Carly took cover under one of the many display tables in the large room as the window next to her was suddenly smashed in, and Sarah pulled Amanda and herself under another table closer to the stairs, leaving herself with a view of both Carly to one side of her and the room that Wayne had taken refuge in on the other side.

  The butt of the soldier's rifle worked its way around the frame, smashing at the large chunks before he ducked through and preemptively aimed his rifle, expecting a fight. But aside from his own noise and the noise of the front door downstairs opening and slamming shut, the historical center-converted house was silent.

  The soldier on the top floor ran to the bedroom that Wayne was hiding in, jumping around the corner and ready to shoot. When he saw it was empty, he turned around and ran down the stairs. He hadn't seen Wayne hiding behind the door and Wayne didn't want to play his hand yet, not with two of them.

  Sarah looked at Amanda who was crouched down on her knees with her chin pressed to the hardwood floor. "Stay quiet," she told her. "We'll be okay."

  Amanda lifted her head and nodded silently before laying her chin back on the hard floor.

  Sarah took out her gun and fished in her coat pocket that Amanda no
w wore for the loose ammo she had brought with her. She refilled the magazine and quietly inserted it back into the gun, pulling back the slide. She lifted the curtain surrounding the table above them and peeked underneath. She saw Carly doing the same thing from the table by the window, looking utterly terrified. She made a quick motion toward the window at Sarah now that both soldiers were downstairs, but Sarah shook her head, knowing that she couldn't leave the others. Sarah crawled around and lifted the curtain on the other side. She saw Wayne slowly creeping around the door and waiting for one of them to come back upstairs.

  "They're not down here?" Sarah heard one of the soldiers say in a distant voice.

  "No. They weren't upstairs?"

  "Nuh-uh. And they didn't come out the front door?"

  "Not a chance."

  And then there was silence, and every one of the survivors in the house knew that the hunt was on.

  The staircase creaked laboriously as one of them made their way upstairs. The faint groan of old floorboards drifted up from downstairs too, and Sarah got a sense of where each of them were, though she didn't know what to do. All of the survivors with her were scattered and she didn't want to make any sudden movements and draw their gunfire to her with Amanda still beside her.

  Wayne waited halfway behind the door at the top of the stairs for the soldier to show himself. He held his knife and gun in each hand, ready to strike with one or the other.

  The soldier reached the top of the stairs but instead turned away from Wayne and skirted around the banister wrapping the staircase and made his way for the other room on the top floor.

  Wayne leaned out to get a look, being careful of his weight on the floorboards, then he shrunk back behind the door. He wasn't pleased with the logistics of killing two heavily armed and likely armored soldiers who may have even had the same level of training that he did.

  Sarah looked at Wayne from under the curtain, and they both nodded to each other, not out of any kind of plan or communication, but simply for reassurance, to say that they had each other's backs. As the seconds ticked away, they felt like hours, and Sarah expected to hear gunfire break out downstairs at any moment when the soldier below inevitably found Ron or Curt. And what would she do then? What would Wayne do then?