“Luke is right,” Jord agrees. “We can’t plan for what we don’t know. Seits, you will come up here and toss a bomb out this door so I can exit with you without losing too much control over the bus. To make it simpler, four will exit out the back. Head in your own directions, two of you or four of you.”
Another wheel blows, swerving the bus left. Jord jerks the wheel in the same direction before forcing it right, maintaining control over the vehicle. I stumble around in the back, gun shots blaring behind me.
Jord continues, “Once you’re out, eight hours. We will meet on top of the black building sitting right off the lake. A green flag hangs from its roof on all four walls. There should be a chopper waiting for us. If you are not there by that time, we will assume you are dead, and you will be left here.” He turns again. “Respond!”
“We understand!”
“Fall out now.”
“You ready?” Luke asks me.
“I’m ready.” He grabs a grenade from my backpack, and I pull my gun, first making sure it’s fully loaded and then packing two extra clips on my waist. “You ready?” I ask. He does the same and adds an extra gun to his waist. Good idea.
“Let’s go!” He stops Cory’s sister from shooting, pulls the pin, and throws the grenade.
I brace myself for the explosion, moving to where a seat will keep me from being blasted too. In not even five seconds, it goes off.
The grenade is more effective than I thought it would be. It takes longer than I expected for the dead things to come back. I pull the pin from another and throw it out. In the same amount of time, it goes off, and Luke and I are the first two out.
We hit the ground running, holding our guns, ready to fire. Shoulder-to-shoulder, we race over jagged ground covered in debris. We run toward bright and intact skyscrapers that look nothing like the airport.
The sun is creeping up the high-rises, but it’s still too early to minimize the shadows. Some of the dead-alive humans seem to be using the shadows for protection, while the others—the Creation-turned, dead-alive—don’t care about being touched by the sunlight. We shoot—headshots. At this moment, watching my shots hit without missing, I’m grateful for the training Luke forced me into. We’d be dead by now without it.
They drop to the ground, and we jump over fallen bodies. “Up,” Luke shouts.
The steel stairs of a fire escape lead up the side of an eight-floor building. Luke and I must run and jump to reach the ladder. By the looks of it, people may live here. Before climbing the ladder, we check behind us.
“Grenade,” Luke barks, firing off to hold the ones closest back. When his slide locks, I take the grenade out, pull the pin, and it leaves my hand. Three seconds later it goes off.
The explosion shoves me into the building, ears ringing. Luke tugs me to my feet and forces me up the ladder, not allowing me any time to adjust.
I rush up the stairs, ignoring the discomfort in my back and the ringing in my ears. Luke takes my back, firing at whatever comes up behind us. At our front, we’re clear. I’m expecting one of those things to charge through one of the glass windows at my left, and because of that, I run faster, never lowering my gun.
We make it to the roof, halting as I face eleven barrels aimed at me by nine Creations. I keep mine up too, announcing myself, “Kylie, Creation number two-six-seven, Arizona Separation, Base One.”
Luke turns us, using the push of his back against mine. I shoot the minimum number of dead-yet-alive approaching Creations. The number of them shrink to one, and I kick it back and shoot it in the head. It falls back over the edge and plummets to the ground.
I step to Luke’s side. The guns have lowered. I wait for Luke to put his down before I do. “Illinois Separation, Base Three,” a girl says, voice small and high-pitched. “Carla, Creation number three-eight-one.”
She steps to me, extending her hand. “Hi.”
I shake it. “Hi.”
She and Luke shake. We follow her from the ledge of the building to the middle, where the others have stopped eyeing us and now look out to the city.
“You all have come to help?” a boy with glowy caramel skin asks. The sun hits it, lighting it the way light would beam through amber. His long hair is pulled into a curly ponytail that flows down his back.
“We are,” Luke replies. “What happened?”
The boy shrugs. “A lot of our Creations didn’t make it when they gave the vaccinations. A lot,” he emphasizes. “The ones who showed the signs of transformation—bloodshot eyes, throwing up this tar-like black liquid, and rage—they became angry and violent, and they took them to the labs. Within minutes, things went haywire, and there were too many to manage. Our Creations changed at all hours of the day, during the night, and even while we were at lunch. We didn’t see it coming. Many of the Normals had got bitten or scratched, and some showed up out of nowhere.” His lips turn up as though he were looking at the disgusting creatures. “It was and still is a shit show.”
“Excuse him, his twin was one who turned. He’s still pissed about it,” another girl says. She’s tall, my height, and has red hair that’s also pulled back. Goggles cover her eyes, and a scarf wraps around her mouth. “Hi, I’m Katy.”
We acknowledge her with a nod, and Luke asks, “What happened after that? Did you just leave your base?” Luke asks.
“Yeah. At that point,” the boy continues, “it was all twins for themselves. Some Creations even got shot because of suspicion. If you are a part of our group and you blink the wrong way, I’m blowing your damn head off, period,” he adds.
Luke checks his pistol before stuffing it in his back holster. “We are here to help lessen your problem. We were supposed to be met by someone when we landed, but it looks like your city’s infestation likes to hide out around your airport.”
The boy nods and says, “They do, we don’t know why, but that’s like their home.”
“Like the hole,” I say to Luke, remembering the area Jord showed us back near our base.
Luke acknowledges my statement with a nod. “We didn’t just come here to chat. We came here to decimate these dead things infesting your city and help you all take back control.”
“We call them Zombies,” a girl, sitting on the ledge, says. “Hi, I’m Nyla.” She waves.
“Zombies?” I question.
“Yes,” she says, standing. “A risen corpse. I think it has something to do with those tests they run on us. Everyone is more susceptible to it than they’d hoped.”
Nodding, I say, “Zombies,” turning to Luke. That’s a suitable name. “So,” I raise my gun, loading it. “If you all aren’t scared, let’s go kill some Zombies.”
“Scared,” a few of them scoff, jumping to their feet. “We don’t know fear!”
“That’s just what I needed to hear,” Luke says. “Who is the leader of this group?” We turn our attention to the boy with light brown skin. His lips are still curled up.
“You’re right to assume,” the boy says, “I’m Jeff.” They shake before he and I shake. “What’s your plan?”
“Only one strategy,” Luke says. “Kill them quickly, as many as we can, and be at the rendezvous point in seven hours.”
“What happens at the point in seven hours?” Carla asks.
“We go home,” I tell her.
“Well, I guess we should get the show on the road. The sun is at eye-level with us, so they still have the shadow advantage, but as you’ve seen, that means nothing to Creation Zombies, which we’ve named X-Gen. Do you have any grenades?”
“Of course.”
“No, no,” Jeff says, waving his hand. “Not those regular grenades. These are special grenades, grenades that will—”
I cut him off, showing him one with the pink line of liquid down the center. “Like these?”
“Yes,” he sings excitedly, snatching it out of my hand. “Just like this.” He smiles. “Y’all came prepared.”
“How could we help if we didn’t?” Luke asks.
“Everyone loaded?”
Katy opens a metal chest, revealing a mound of firearms. “Yep,” she says. “The only things we do not have are those pink fluid grenades. We ran out a few days ago.”
I take the grenade from Jeff and stuff it back into my pocket. “Alright, let’s do this then.”
The nine of them load up. “Only the two of you came?” Katy asks.
“No,” I tell her. “Eight of us came.”
“Did the others die?”
I knit my brows and slowly shake my head. “We split up.”
“Makes sense.” She looks away from me and surveys the group. “Everybody ready?”
“Yeah. Yep. Un-Huh,” they all reply.
“Alright,” Jeff announces. “Let’s do this.”
Luke and I run off first, jumping from this building to one a couple feet across from it. I land hard but keep going. A foot from this building is another one, taller. I jump, catching the edge, and pull myself up. We wait here to be joined by the others. The chilly breeze whips around us. I take in a deep breath and eagerly await our next move.
An explosion goes off in the distance near a bridge over a narrow river. Two small towers stand on either side of the bridge and are soon crowded by pink smoke. “Look.” I point.
“You want to head over there?”
“I do.” Marc could be over there, and I would know he’s okay if we did. “It would be nice if everyone meets back up to go to the spot together. It may not be safe for only two to wait there alone, considering how these Zombies X-Gen move.”
“Good point, Ky.” Everyone has joined us on the rooftop. “We’ll clear out this area first, see if they lead us to where the most problematic areas on this end are, and we’ll start looking for signs of our own,” Luke says and takes off.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We jump from building to building until we hit one low enough that we can jump to the ground.
“Over there,” someone yells. “Under that overpass is a hiding spot for them.”
“Good, let’s clear it out,” Luke says and jumps off, running toward it. I’m right behind him.
Two feet away, the Zombies emerge from the shadows. I shoot. Luke pulls a grenade and throws it far into the center of them. It blows, and pieces of them fly out and around us. We shoot the last two Zombies, and this area is quickly cleared.
“Time,” I call to Luke.
“Under six hours,” he responds as he’s running, following Carla, who leads us to another spot. We run into Marc and Sean, coming our direction on a wide street, still alone.
Many of the Chicago residents cheer, rushing to greet them.
I turn away from watching an unnamed girl jump on Marc, wrapping her arms and legs around him like they share a personal relation.
“Come on, Ky,” Luke calls, waving me to that direction.
I swallow my jealousy and play off my reaction as if I was looking around, making sure no more Zombies were coming. I jog over, keeping my gaze from the hugging couple.
“Where?” Luke asks Carla when she comes back to us.
Fingertips slide down my arm, lightly graze my palm, and move between my fingers. They latch on to me, distracting me from Carla’s answer. I know the touch, one I could never forget, one I don’t want to. Smooth fingers and a rough palm.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say, avoiding his eyes. My wariness may show on my face if I look at him.
He lightly pulls my hand, hinting for me to step closer. I follow through, and he whispers, “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you,” he admits before the girl that wrapped around him comes to his side.
We snatch our hands from each other and step apart. “Yeah, me too,” I say, looking for my brother. “Luke, you ready?”
“Yes, we’re going to something called Van Buren.”
“A street called Van Buren,” Carla corrects, laughing. “They gather in the train station. It’s a long hall underground with the lights busted out, so it provides darkness for them.”
Marc takes my hand again. “We aren’t here for the ones in the darkness, we want the ones able to stand in the light,” he says.
Luke scopes our hands but says nothing. He’s okay with Marc’s small tokens of affection, but let it be Cory, and its World War XI.
“Right,” Jeff agrees. “They’re our threat. If we lower their numbers, we can take our city back. If we were Zombies, how would we think? Where would we go during the day? They’re not standing here out in the open like we are.”
Everyone thinks and rambles, coming up with different ideas and places I’m unfamiliar with. I flick my gaze to Marc, and he nods for us to step away. I take a few steps back, keeping the group and our surroundings in sight.
Marc’s mouth curves into a smile. “She’s a good friend. Don’t be jealous.”
I look away from him. “Don’t analyze me. I’m not jealous.”
“You are. But if you insist.” He throws a glance over his shoulder. “Would you prefer a hug?” he asks with his head tilted as he lowers his body to look directly into my eyes. “We can steal a second from the fight.”
I bow my head to hide my smile. He pays just as close attention to me as I do him. “I would,” I admit. “Only for a second.”
He moves his gun from his front holster and wraps his arms around me like he always does when he shares this hug thing. I sigh, hugging him around his neck. He pushes his hands over my back, behind my backpack so he’s sealed around my body. I don’t know a better feeling than this.
Contentment: a state of happiness and satisfaction
“One,” I say under my breath. The second is gone too quickly. But we don’t have the time to indulge.
He pulls back, coolly saying. “Let’s go. Looks like they have a destination.”
Everyone’s nodding, and loading up again. Luke yells, “Come on, Ky. We are going to head to a mirrored peach.”
“A bean,” Carla yells after him in a correcting tone, laughing.
“Whatever,” Luke grumbles.
We run to the thirty-three-foot bean reflecting the land around it. Numerous Zombies surround the area, and we stop before they see us. “What’s our approach?” I ask, standing beside Luke, scanning the area.
We’re spread out through single-planted trees, staying off the provided walking path. A light flickers from a nearby pavilion, grabbing my attention. It notices me and flickers quicker.
“Look, Luke,” I whisper. “Who’s that?”
He squints. The light flickers slowly, a mirror reflecting the sun. “The general.” He scopes out our surroundings. “Let’s go over there.” Luke waves at Marc and Sean on the other side of the walking path, grabbing their attention. He signals over his shoulder. They nod once, after eyeing the general. “Okay, Ky. Quick and quiet.”
I nod and repeat, “Quick and quiet.” I pull my gun to my side, ready to fire when needed.
We take off like someone yelled, “GO,” rushing across paved ground to grass to an odd-shaped architectural piece. The Zombies are crowded around heavily, but we go unnoticed. We pick up speed. Before making it to General Jord, we hide behind the trees, making sure we weren’t seen or followed. I count the time. Two, four, six, eight, ten… We’ve come unseen and unheard.
Luke greets, “General.”
“You have gained reinforcements. Where did you find them?” Jord asks.
“On a roof a few miles out from here,” I answer.
He nods once. “What were they doing?”
“Sitting,” Luke states condescendingly.
“It’s in your plan to take out this area?”
“Yes,” I respond. We throw anxious glances all around us, trying to keep every corner in sight.
“Captain Cory and his sister have taken on the loop. They also came upon a group of four. How many have you found?”
“Nine,” Luke answers.
“Nine?” Jord questions, stunned. “Well, the more the merrier. We are g
oing to the fountain. We hope to run into others as well. How is your ammunition?”
“I have five grenades, six mags, and an extra gun I’ve not yet used,” Luke says.
“I have only two grenades, five mags and—”
A growl erupts from behind us.
Faster than we can turn around, Seits is attacked. The Zombie grabs her, latching its teeth into the side of her face. Her eyes go wide, and she releases a silent scream. She grabs for the tree branches as it tugs her away, never releasing its clutch.
Two shots bring me out of the scene. Jord runs to her, grabbing her hand.
The patter of heavy footsteps approach from behind us. More are coming.
“Cover us,” Jord yells.
Luke takes one side, and I take another. We aren’t near each other, and I worry about making it to him if he were to be attacked by those things.
I fire, missing because I am distracted by my thoughts.
Marc and Sean…
If the Zombies have advanced on us, they’ve been attacked too, and maybe overtaken. I spare a glance from my attackers to look back at where we ran from.
A Zombie grabs my hand, yanking me to it. It turns my hand toward its drooling mouth. I kick it before it sinks its bloodstained teeth into me. It hurls backward, nails scraping through my flesh on its release. I shoot it in the head, ignoring the burning pain.
Focusing on the Zombie X-Gen advancing on us, I take better shots, but my arm is shaking. It’s tingling. Strikes of stinging pain shoot through it from where I was scratched up to my elbow.
My gun jams. Empty.
Having no time to reload, I pull out my loaded gun and fire as I try to manage my numbing hand. It drops the empty clip and juggles the other while I try to load it.
My left-handed shots are still hitting the targets, but I’m more comfortable shooting with my right.
Reloading my gun, I drop it, losing all feeling in my right hand. I pull it behind me, hoping no one notices. The pain is advancing from my arm to my shoulder, and I’m becoming nauseous, much like I did when I was given that vaccine.
Imminent Threat: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 1) Page 18
