“We just checked the surveillance feeds. The back dock is clear,” David told them, his will to move driving them towards the rear of the store. None of them had any intention of staying there. While there were supplies to last them for a while, there weren’t weapons of any kind. The moment that horde got through those glass barriers, they’d be overrun. No, they had to leave while they still could.
“Let’s make a break for it,” Jesus said, his need to get home and be with his wife overwhelming the fear that had ruled the man since this whole thing started.
She could understand. If she had a family at home; she’d probably feel the same. But at the moment all she felt was this urgent need to get the fuck out of Tucson, fast.
“And go where?” Jeff asked and she wanted to sock him even more. “On foot? Shit, I’m parked in front of the store!” Her stomach dropped as she realized she was as well.
Randall’s eyes danced, his white teeth gleaming as the goofy grin swelled. “I’m not. The Beast is parked on the side.” The dumbass loved the name he came up with for that junk heap he drove and she wondered if he petted it every time it started.
It was very likely.
She shook her head with bitter amusement. All she knew was that she didn’t want to go anywhere in that piece of shit; she wanted her Lexus. She grunted and began to wonder if the side parking lot was empty or if there was something waiting in the cameras’ blind spots. If there were, they’d have no clue until they came around that back corner. She had to get herself a weapon and soon.
Why hadn’t she applied at the Super Center instead?
“Can you take me to get my wife? They’re probably still at our apartment. At least, they were an hour ago,” Jesus asked desperately, his voice trembling.
No one answered, each considering what to do next.
She looked at them and cursed their indecisiveness. They needed to stop discussing this shit and just go. She caught her boss staring at her and they shared a moment of understanding. While the others were still hoping to wake up and find themselves at home in their beds, both of them knew that this wasn’t a nightmare; this was happening. And wasted time would only lead to a waste of life.
“I’m going,” she told them, not caring if they followed. “If you’re coming, you better hurry the fuck up. Porque si todos ustedes viven o muere, me voy a sacar el fuck de aquí,” she told them, not caring if they understood.
Randall laughed. When the others gave him questioning looks, he just shrugged his shoulders. “She’s going to take off without us if we don’t keep up,” he said, glossing over what she said.
“That’s how it is?” Jeff asked her crossly.
She was getting tired of his shit. “Damn straight,” she returned, showing him her back.
She’d gather some food and water, then she was gone. If he was with her, so be it. If not, then his ass could feed the zombies pounding on the doors when they broke through. At this point, she didn’t give a shit. A part of her regretted that their relationship seemed to be falling apart; the other wanted to kill him herself.
Why the fuck had she stopped again?
Chapter 15
Fence walkers
Rosilynn
Las Vegas, NV
“Don’t ask,” he growled. “You keep on about it, I will pull this car over and end it myself.” He had been moody ever since they had left that parking lot of the Sherman Williams.
She had let him stay that way, knowing that the will to fight was being driven by it. But she couldn’t help worrying as she continually tried to guess at what he was feeling and getting nothing constructive in return. Her own anger rose to the surface swiftly and she was able to hold it in any longer. “Don’t give me that shit. My life is as much on the line as yours.”
Her mind had tried to deny it but the simple fact was, they made a pact and she had broken it. If something happened now it’d all be on her. He had held out a knife and she was the one that gave it back. Her mind just refused to give in without some kind of hard proof. She needed irrefutable evidence that what they had always “known” would come to pass. Zombies were supposed to be created from the transfer of bodily fluids, infecting the new host with a virus that corrupted the body’s systems, transforming them into another one of the undead. That was the reproduction system that the monsters had always displayed. There had been few exceptions from the accepted dogma. One had suggested that just inhaling fumes off of burned bodies could turn people as well, but no one accredited it with any realism. It was just another gory movie to take a boyfriend to on a Saturday night.
Now she began to question everything they had planned; whether any of their promises should be kept. Until she knew how this thing worked, she wasn’t just going to off someone because they got bit; especially her husband. Fuck that shit.
“Send more paramedics,” she mumbled and got a severe look from her husband; he wasn’t in the mood for humor. She sighed and checked his pulse, refusing to acknowledge his frustration. It was fast, but not erratic. He had no external temperature rise. She wouldn’t be able to take an internal temp without stopping and getting a thermometer to ram up his ass. If he kept on acting like one though, she might consider that an option.
She had made him pull over a few minutes after they hit the road; his arguments to the contrary. She hadn’t had time to attend to it before they got in the car, and she couldn’t clean and dress the wound while they were driving. So far, she hadn’t seen any obvious signs of infection. Was it possible that he wouldn’t turn? Could she dare to hope?
They were approaching the airport and she felt dread start to settle over her. If the strip had been bad, she didn’t want to imagine what an airport full of undead was going to be like. It was a major population hub in the city, with tourist coming from all over the world to gamble at the casinos. With the apparent rate of infection, she knew it had to be one of the earliest places hit. They couldn’t avoid it if they were going to get to the highway quickly. Any other route would mean sidetracking through more neighborhoods; something that she wasn’t ready to do.
Not after that last one.
She doubted she could keep her husband from helping anyone again. He was too suicidal to think straight. No, they had to take the chance and hope for the best.
Her heart sank as the fence surrounding the runways came into view. A large group of undead was spread across the inside and were pounding on the wired barrier. It wobbled with the force of the blows and she cringed at the thought of what would come with their freedom. Luckily, this part of the street appeared to be barren with only a few abandoned cars lining the sides of the road, but she knew that could change quickly.
At any moment those creatures could break through the flimsy wire barrier and the neighborhoods to the north would be swarmed within minutes. Just as her mind freed itself from thinking such dark thoughts, the fence gave way, spilling forth a mass of entangled bodies. She felt the car surge and realized that her husband had just hit the gas. He hooked left with the road, coming awfully close to that large mound of undead, then the car surged forward, away from the freed horde.
The car was fishtailing from the violent turn and was beginning to straighten itself when something briefly impacted their trunk, causing them to veer to the left. She looked back at the zombies crawling over each other to get at them and saw a broken body on the ground. It rolled over, got back on its feet, and came after them with everything it had. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she brought her rifle up, ready to take a shot if the thing got too close. More bodies had risen from the avalanche of claws and teeth and had joined the chase.
The fury on their faces speared her heart.
They weren’t passive zombies responding to sudden stimuli. These were fierce eating machines hell-bent on tearing their prey apart. She couldn’t begin to guess what this virus did to their minds, but it appeared to focus all their rage and hunger with such force that it erased anything else that had made them human.
They look pissed, she thought; not able to come up with a better description. She hoped that it was an automatic response to the virus at work and not a trapped mind fighting to wrestle control from the fury driving them forward.
The car rocked and her window shattered; jolting her from her watchful gaze behind and drawing her back into her surroundings. The glass didn’t break, but it had shattered so completely that another push would bring it down upon her. A hand flashed by their back windshield and the horror of them getting blindsided like that; on her side of the car, enveloped her whole being. It made her aware that the danger was coming from all sides and as impossible as it seemed, she had to somehow keep a three-hundred sixty-degree awareness at all times.
A dead security guard had joined in the chase now and she prayed that the car didn’t run out of gas. They’d never survive a fight with that many of the enemy raining down upon them. These things were everywhere! If they stopped, which way could they go? Where was there refuge that wasn’t already infested?
The car had skidded a bit from the impact, but they were still racing down the back road, drawing slowly away from the crowd of hungry cannibals to their rear. Another turn approached and as he swung the car right, she lost sight of the horde as the shattered glass obstructed her view.
She could tell they were falling behind by how long it took them to come around the fence. Her heart began to lighten with the thought they might just make it. Her hands had been gripping the rifle and she forced herself to relax. Her hands were throbbing, sweaty, and swollen. She flexed her fingers; trying to breathe life back into them. They groaned at the stress that she was putting them through. Her gloves were practical, but they weren’t helping her flexibility.
Another vehicle was flying their way and hope swelled when she saw that it was a military Humvee with a soldier manning the gun on the back; locked, loaded, and ready to fire. There were half a dozen more following after, and as it rushed past, she flipped around in her seat to watch what happened next. A second man was hunched over the back and was using a pair of binoculars; speaking energetically into a walkie on his shoulder.
Swerving to the side of the road, cutting her view of the racing horde beyond, the vehicle leapt onto the sidewalk and came to an abrupt stop. She felt their own car buck as Matt had followed suit to get out of the way of the approaching formation of Humvees. They had spread themselves across the two-lane road and would have taken them out as they passed.
Her husband began to slow their vehicle now that the military was forming up behind them, his eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. They were staggered and without ceremony opened up on the large group of zombies that had been chasing them. She had no real account of how many had been behind that fence, but it had been enough to just push it over like it was a stack of hay.
She cringed at the destruction taking place, but a dark part of her enjoyed every moment. She wanted to get out, rush back there, and help them mow those monsters down. Not just for what they wanted to do to her; but because they were an abomination and affront to everything natural in the world. She wanted to do her part; to erase them from this corner of her existence.
She glanced to her side and realized that the blind spot was more dangerous now that they had come to a stop. She used the butt of her .45 to knock the glass free and carefully plucked a few smaller pieces out. She turned back to the battle just in time to see a hand reach up from in front of one of the Humvees. The man with the binoculars drew his side arm and a final shot rang out as the others had ceased firing. It had come that close to getting to them, even with all that firepower they had flung at those things. How would the two of them survived had they been overrun?
She shivered at the display of death and destruction; though from fear or pleasure, she wasn’t sure. “Oh, my God,” she whispered and found that her husband was actually smiling.
“Hope they cut those bastards in half and they’re still trying to crawl around, so I can have the pleasure of backing up over those fucks and killing them again,” he snarled, speaking from the anger fueling his heart.
The guys let out a cheer in response to the fight and she caught herself cheering with them. One of them turned towards their direction and waved them on. Matt saluted them but she doubted they saw that through the smeared rear windshield.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, patting his arm.
For just a moment she had forgotten the nasty bite on his ankle, and though she welcomed the respite, she abhorred the stress that the forgetting had caused. That she had lost that focus in the heat of things would only create problems if he did get sick during a fight and turned on her. She was beginning to sweat in her suit now that the window wasn’t keeping the a/c contained and she wondered if the heat would increase the spread of infection.
She forced it out of her mind as they eased forward and continued on their journey. She’d worry about that when the time came, until then, she was just tying herself up in knots. Her hand on her rifle, her eyes alert, they passed the airport and finally came to the interstate that would take them east to her friends; who were hopefully already awaiting their arrival. She prayed they were having an easier time of it than they were; or they might all be lost in the end.
She sighed, so much for preparing ahead.
Chapter 16
Hacker
Todd
Compound 2
He stepped into their communications room, having finally gotten the family settled and wanting to fulfill his need for information. He was on the first basement level of their new home; Monica and Sam had opted to stay behind and get the kids settled while he checked in with Ben.
Half the room was one long computer desk with eight computers; each with multiple monitors. One wall had two couches and a recliner for comfort. One of the couches had blankets and a pillow thrown on it; Ben had been sleeping here rather than his own quarters. The boy was old enough to get one of his own and they didn’t have enough people on the way in to force him in with his parents; so privacy wasn’t an issue.
It had to be the amount of work he was putting in. From the looks of things, he had been sleeping in here for quite some time.
There were scattered Red Bulls loosely stacked on the floor and several empty bags of chips that never made it to the trashcan five feet away. The large refrigerator on the last wall looked well used and he knew from past experience that it was mostly filled with junk food.
Sitting in the center of the computer desk was Ben. His high back computer chair was turned slightly to the side as the young man hunched over his keyboard, eyes flashing between the eight monitors glowing before him. The boy had saved the life of his family and he wanted to give him a hug. But now that he was here, he figured Ben would be happy enough if he grabbed one of those energy drinks from the fridge and replaced the crushed can by his mouse pad.
Ben was dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. As Todd walked in, he flipped his long brown bangs back to see who had entered his sanctuary. His wireframe glasses barely turned as those bloodshot eyes quickly addressed him, then turned back to the screens dismissively. The monitors were set up vertically in four rows and he had no idea how the young boy kept up with what was on all those screens; he could barely handle two.
He walked over, opened the fridge, pulled out a couple of Red Bulls and grabbed himself a Coke. Grabbing a computer chair, he placed the energy drinks on the computer desk, popped his Coke, and dropped into the seat next to Ben.
“Glad you made it,” the young boy said, while absently opening one of the cans and downing it. Then he returned to his keyboard; typing furiously. He looked at the monitors, but Ben was alternating his windows too fast for him to keep up. He did catch glimpses of video on those closing windows and the brief camera footage was enough to make his stomach churn; things were going to shit out there.
He was glad he had gotten his family to safety, but now he had to focus on helping the others get there as well.
&nbs
p; He didn’t want to linger, Ben had a lot of work to do and he didn’t want to cause a distraction that would cost someone their life. “I just wanted to say thank you,” he told him, taking another drag of his Coke. An ashtray was on the desk top and there were more than a few crushed butts there. When had Ben started smoking? “You been smoking backer?” he asked, attempting to say tobacco like they did back east.
The glare that he got almost made him chuckle. Yeah, he shouldn’t do that; it sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. He didn’t think he had an accent, but then it didn’t sound like one to you, just people from other regions or countries. He knew that he had butchered it and made a note not to try it again.
Best to stick with what he what he knew.
Ben’s hand snaked out and grabbed a hot pocket on a paper plate to his left. His skinny frame must burn it up instantly and he wished that his would still do that as well. “With all this shit going on, I reckon you’ve been smoking non-stop.” Todd was already fishing out a cigarette and the boy nodded. “That’s what I thought. And you’re welcome,” Ben commented while munching his food. “Casey’s closing in and Mark is off the grid.”
The way he said that; the life and death statement just casually voiced like it was nothing, hit him in the gut hard. He knew that he shouldn’t hold it against the younger boy. He was doing exactly what they asked him to do. But the indifference to whether or not their friends lived or died made him sick to his stomach. If something had happened to them on their journey to the compound, would they have been a casual side note in the boy’s day? Ben had to be objective and disconnected to be effective, but Jesus.
“Is it possible Mark broke his phone?” he asked and got a glare in response. There was no way to possibly know that for sure and he knew that before he had asked. Still, he felt like the man deserved more than a passing mention. “What about Roxanne?”
The Rotting Souls Series (Book 1): Charon's Blight [Day One] Page 13
