Zombieclypse (Book 3): Dead End

by Rosaria, A.

  Ralph slowed down until she caught up with him. “Are you all right?”

  Did he really care? And what kind of question was that to ask after what happened? Oh, she was so peachy fine after seeing her friends butchered. Just taking a stroll here in the nice countryside. And no, the forest crawling with zombies didn’t bother her at all.

  “I’m fine,” she said bitterly.

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  Lauryn glared at him and was glad he looked away. Ralph had been trying to get chummy with her, but she couldn’t stand it. Did that make her a mean person? “I’m fine, okay?”

  Ralph sighed and walked in silence for a moment, and then looked at her with sad eyes. “I’m not. Fine that is.”

  He looked behind them at the empty road. “I think something was supposed to happen to us, but we were not the ones attacked. That zombie was there to draw us out. It could have been us.”

  “You mean it would have been me. You would have done the right thing and fled to camp to warn the others.”

  Ralph grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop. “Jeez, Lauryn, do you really think so little of me? I would never leave you behind again. I would have done my best to get you free and probably died trying, just like Randy did for Jayne.”

  Words were easy. He had left her once when she was dying, but the second time he left her was by his choosing. A third time would be easy. Although, the way he looked at her—his lips a thin strip, his brows furrowed, and the intense look he gave her—made her doubt that. A shiver went through her. She yanked her arm free, and stepped up to catch up to the group. There was no time to stop and talk, not with zombies possibly following them.

  “You don’t believe me,” Ralph said, defeated.

  Lauryn didn’t answer. She didn’t have the answers to answer. She really wanted to trust him, to let him in, but she feared that bridge had already been burned.

  He didn’t say anything for the next fifteen minutes. She glanced at him. He was staring ahead, his lips still pressed together. She wondered what was going through his head.

  “Ralph, I—”

  The group ahead stopped and ran for the tree line.

  “Follow them,” Ralph whispered.

  He sprinted after them and she followed. Soon Lauryn saw why they were running. In the distance, she spotted a rather large group of zombies on the road coming their way. She sprinted to join her group, passing Ralph. She cursed that she had lagged behind. This really wasn’t the time to wallow.

  Ethan waved for them to hurry. She dropped next to him on the ground; Ralph did the same a second later.

  “We have incoming,” Ethan said.

  “I saw them,” Ralph said. “A large group.”

  Ethan readied his rifle. “We better get ready for them; we can’t keep running.”

  Lauryn would rather hide and let them pass, but the zombies might not just pass. They might smell them, see them, or sense the living. She held her axe tighter.

  “You better pull out your gun,” Ralph said to her.

  He was right, but she wasn’t a great shot. She felt more comfortable with her axe. It didn’t need bullets, didn’t jam, was silent, and it got her out of a lot of precarious situations, including saving her on her long walk when she left the quarantine zone.

  Lauryn slid the axe in her belt and pulled her handgun—a 9mm beretta. She clicked off the safety and chambered a bullet. The others were doing the same and took their positions behind cover.

  They had to get off the road to hide in the tree line, heading to lower ground and losing sight of the zombies. The zombies would be back in sight when they got closer. It would be a shooting gallery, and it was best if they were quick about it and moved on before all the zombies in the area were attracted by the gunshots.

  They waited and waited but nothing happened. No moans. No growls. No sight or whiff of anything. Sweat appeared on their brows. And many got antsy, moving from one leg to the other, fidgeting with their guns. Lauryn shot Ralph and Ethan a glance. Both grimaced as they aimed their rifles at the road, their backs tense. Anything popping up would get shot, whatever or whoever it was. All other eyes were also glued to the road, except for Brenda, who was looking at her. Her eyes were wide, her hair wild. The girl was scared, just like Lauryn. Lauryn swallowed the fear and put on a brave face. She nodded, and Brenda nodded back and returned her attention to the road.

  The waiting was eating at her. If it were zombies, they would already be upon them, and then again not all was what it seemed anymore. Someone had to go look. Maybe the zombies were gone.

  She made her way to Ralph and Ethan. “I’ll go take a look,” she whispered.

  Both Ralph and Ethan said no to her.

  “Why not? If we stay here, we’ll be sitting ducks.”

  “No way are you going alone to take a look,” Ralph said.

  Protective much? She’d survived worse, alone. And she wasn’t the one stumbling into trouble with every step she made. “Good thing neither of you have a say in this.”

  Lauryn didn’t wait for their protest. She left. She heard footsteps behind her. Thinking it was Ethan or Ralph trying to stop her, she whirled around, but instead of seeing them, she saw a smiling Brenda.

  “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

  Ralph and Ethan were still at the tree line, covering her with their rifles. Ralph waved her to go on. Keeping low to the ground, they climbed the bank up to the road.

  “Just a peek,” Lauryn said.

  Brenda nodded and both of them raised themselves up, eyes on the road. Nothing on the right or left.

  “I’m going up to look,” Brenda said.

  Lauryn tried to grab the girl, her fingers brushing the fabric of her shirt, and then she was on the road.

  “I see no one.”

  BANG. Brenda shrieked and dropped down. Lauryn grabbed her legs and pulled her into the ditch. Lauryn felt Brenda over for an injury.

  “I’m fine,” Brenda yelled. “They missed me.”

  Lauryn took a quick peek and pulled back. A shot rang. The bullet hit inches from where she previously was.

  “Run back to the others,” Lauryn said to Brenda. As Brenda bolted for the tree line, Lauryn backed down, facing the road, her gun held high.

  “What’s going on?” Ralph bellowed from his cover.

  “An armed group is advancing on us.” She quickened her pace, hoping to make it to cover before someone shot at her again. This was bad. No way would they leave without casualties fighting a larger group. She had seen about ten men and three women advancing on them.

  Five feet from the trees, she heard crashing behind her. A hand grabbed hers and pulled her into a run for the tree line. It was Ralph. His fingers digging into her forearm. She cried out, more in surprise than pain. He pushed her behind a tree and took the next one.

  “Don’t risk yourself like that,” he snarled at her.

  Scolding her about taking risks after what he had done, he shouldn’t be the one talking. First, she had control over the situation. TATTATATTAT. A machine gun roared. The trees they were standing behind were hit. It was off to the side, a part of the road they had not been watching. Everyone drew behind a tree.

  “Hit the ground and hold your fire,” Ethan yelled.

  Lauryn dropped to her knee. The machine gun roared again. The bullets went over their heads. She aimed at the spot the shots came from, and barely saw a man prone on the road with a machine gun on a stand.

  “Don’t shoot,” Ralph yelled.

  Lauryn pulled the trigger. Her shot went wild. The machine gunner didn’t even flinch; he ripped the air with more bullets. Lauryn dropped flat to the ground. The bullets hit the tree and air around her.

  “Stop shooting, you numbskull,” a man yelled from beyond the road. The machine-gunner pulled his finger from the trigger and drew back a little.

  The man continued. “You, hiding behind the trees, come out with your hands in the air.”

  “Are you
mad?” Ralph yelled back. “So you can mow us down?”

  “It was a mistake. We won’t shoot you. But, we need to be sure you won’t shoot us.”

  “No, you come out with your hands in the air.”

  “What part of making sure you won’t shoot us, do you not understand?” The man laughed. “This is silly. I’ll come out, just don’t shoot me.”

  “Phil, no, don’t,” a woman cried out.

  A tall, slender man in jeans, a plaid shirt, cowboy boots and hat on appeared on the road. He had a rifle with scope in his hands, a holster with gun on his waist. He looked like a character out of an old western.

  Ethan and Ralph looked at each other, hesitating. Lauryn crawled up and left cover. She holstered her gun and grabbed her axe. If it came to fighting, she would bring it up close. She sucked with the gun anyway. She walked toward the road. The man met her midway.

  He stretched out his hand. “The name is Phil Goodman.”

  She stared at his hand for a second, and then checked his face. He had a genuine smile and his eyes didn’t betray any ill intention. Hesitantly, she grabbed his hand and shook. “I’m Lauryn.”

  “Well, with the pleasantries done, we can get right down to business.”

  The machine gun was pointed at her, not that it would do them a lot of good to shoot now. They would hit Phil too. She guessed it was in case her side did something.

  “I guess you are the leader,” Phil said.

  Lauryn shook her head. “We don’t have a leader.”

  “Spokesperson then, since you’re the one with the balls to meet me.” Phil chuckled.

  “You could say that.”

  Lauryn had a feeling the man didn’t take it all too seriously. He must be sure his group could take hers easily. That machine gun they had packed a punch, and they would have kept their heads down with suppressive fire while the remainder of the group could pick them off one by one.

  Phil’s face grew stern. He pointed somewhere over Lauryn’s shoulder. “Tell your boyfriend to stay put.”

  Ralph stood, about to walk over. Lauryn shook her head. He looked as if he wouldn’t listen.

  “Ralph, let me handle this. You’ve done enough already.” Her voice came out sharper than she intended. Ralph recoiled from the venom in her words. With a hurt face, he backed down. She would worry about how he felt after this was done.

  “Wow, for a young lady, you have a way with words.”

  “What do you want, Phil?”

  “And right back to business. What I want is the same thing you want, to survive.”

  “Shooting at us won’t help any of us survive.”

  Phil waved that away. “Just a misunderstanding. We thought you were zeds.”

  To be fair, it was exactly what they thought Phil’s group was, but still, so far she didn’t see one zombie use a tool, and especially not shoot back. “Since when do zombies carry weapons? They shamble around aimlessly or flee.”

  “Yeah, the first time we shot, we thought it strange how quickly your friend hit the ground. Stranger was how she pulled you to cover. You are right about that.”

  “Why shoot at me the second time?”

  Phil grimaced. “Yeah, that was me. Sorry, the real thinking started later.”

  “And pinning us down?”

  “We had to be sure you weren’t hostiles.”

  Lauryn frowned. “And we thought you were hostiles shooting at us and all.”

  “Well, do you still think we mean you harm?” Phil asked, smiling.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Phil looked at his watch. “Shall we move this conversation? Who knows what guests are coming after those shots? We don’t want to be here when they do. Let’s tag along for now.”

  Lauryn nodded. She called out to her group to get moving. Phil did the same to his. As Ralph, Ethan, Brenda, and the others left the tree line, a group of twenty, double the initial people she saw, walked down from the road. Twelve men, including Phil, and eight woman. Everyone was fully armed and packed backpacks on their backs. If it had turned into a firefight, her group would never have survived. The men and women exchanged awkward greetings and then continued down the road. Once they made a safe distance, they’d look further into what this all meant and would mean in the end.

  From among the trees, she already saw the first score of shadows.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hours passed and no one else came to visit, or bring her food. Sarah paced up and down the room. Her stomach rumbled. She had gotten used to eating three meals a day, and today she had missed lunch and dinner. It was easy living in Haven and she should be grateful, but being locked up in this white room while being observed like an animal made it difficult to accept that it was good. It was only recently she was given more freedom, after months of them prodding at her, taking her blood, injecting her with who knows what. She had been ill with fevers for weeks at times, but whatever it was they sought, they must have found it, or just given up. The experiments stopped, and she was allowed out of her room and then outside the gray building. Guess she was back locked inside a room.

  They stripped her of her belongings, only leaving her the clothes she had on. Sarah was sure that, if left to their own devices, the guards would have stripped her of those as well. She had seen their eyes travel over her body, while their hands had touched her everywhere they shouldn’t have.

  They even took the watch Terry gave her on the day they allowed her out of the building. She had no idea why he really gave it to her, and he didn’t elaborate on it much. It had a nice leather strap, and chrome windup watch. Not one of those expensive ones she would have loved a year ago. However, it felt great getting something, anything. She never expected that from him. Terry, at that time, was still serious with her, much like the one who had interrogated her today.

  Sarah sat in the corner next to the mirror, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her head on her knees. She sighed. Tears choked her as she tried to hold them in. No crying, not now, certainly not when someone might be watching. She bit her lip and it hurt. She didn’t mind the taste of blood. She hated her life. She hated being alone. She hated having lost Ralph just when she thought she had found love. She had screwed up big time.

  The doors slid open. The swoosh sound it made startled Sarah. She jumped up, drying her eyes. Mr. Ward walked in. The two guards stayed outside the room. He looked at her, pulled his nose up, and sniffed. Sarah didn’t match his stare. Her recent imprisonment had taken its toll on her. She was hungry, tired, and smelled.

  “You’re one lucky girl,” Mr. Ward said. “Priscilla is fine, and Captain Morgan convinced the board to keep you on. Not that it will do you any good.”

  Sarah was confused. The man didn’t look happy about giving her the news.

  “Next time you put my daughter in danger, I’ll personally deal with you.”

  “I didn’t mean Priscilla any harm. She is my friend.”

  He curled his upper lip. “Friend? I don’t think so. Stay away from my daughter. Don’t talk to her in class or outside class. You’re on probation until further notice. You can go to your classes and back. That’s it. You are confined to your building. You will apologize to your teacher, and a guard will be posted outside the classroom in case you even think about a repeat of the day before. The same guard will also escort you to and from class.”

  Sarah would rather stay in her quarters. Apologizing to Mr. Morrison made her sick to her stomach. The distaste must have been visible on her face, because Mr. Ward flashed her a cruel smile.

  “You may not like it, but if I had gotten my way, you would be dissected on an examination table right now.”

  Sarah gasped. He really would have ordered her to die like that.

  “It would be the humane thing to do, to put the likes of you out of your misery.”

  He turned around, opened the door, and glanced back. “The guards will take you back to your room.”

  As he left, two guards came in,
grinning. The same two had brought her in. The tallest, with a gruffly face, said, “We meet again.”

  The shorter one grinned, looking her up and down with hungry eyes. They grabbed her arms and roughly led her out the room and building. She clenched her teeth and held herself in check.

  It was night outside. The streets were empty like they were every night. Haven had a strict curfew. No one was allowed on the street after nightfall without a reason.

  A black sedan with security decals on the door was parked in front of the building. They pushed her in the back and drove her to her compound. They escorted her to her room and made sure she was alone.

  The tall guard pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Next time, we won’t be this nice and no one would complain. So please, make my day and misbehave.”

  Sarah contained her desire to spit in his cruel face, knowing it was what he wanted. Any reaction would green light whatever he wanted to do to her. And it was clear what he wanted. His eyes lowered to her breasts. He wore a sneer; hunger burned in their eyes. No. She would not give them the satisfaction.

  The guard growled as he pushed her into her room and locked the door. Sarah stared at the red light. Her fists balled. She stifled a scream. She couldn’t keep it in anymore and kicked the door, and kept kicking it until she hurt her ankle. She dropped down, holding her ankle while tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Sarah didn’t know how much time had passed since she had returned to her room. Her eyes were dry, and somehow she managed to crawl to her bed.

  The door’s lock clicked and the light went to green. The door swooshed open. Terry stood on the other side alone. He hesitated. “Are you awake?”

  She didn’t answer. The lights were out, so he couldn’t see her staring at him in surprise. Terry mumbled something and turned, about to leave.

  “Don’t go!” Sarah hated the despair in her voice, but right now, she didn’t want to be alone. She had only two friends, Priss and him, as weird as it might be being friends with the man whose brother she murdered.