“Been here awhile,” said Gus quietly.
“Let’s go in a bit deeper,” I suggested.
There was only one option: straight ahead. A hallway stood before us, dark and foreboding. As we began our trek into the darkness, Hoot clicked a pen light on. It caused shadows to dance in front of us. The effect was disorienting but being able to see to face dangers was critical. Doors lined the right hand side of the hallway. Each was shut. The other side of the hall was lined with floral prints in cheap frames and windows, all of which were painted black like the entry.
“We need to clear the rooms,” said Gus.
“Let’s start with the ones closest to the exit, and don’t forget to keep an eye on the front door. We don’t need any surprises,” said Sam.
Gus poised himself to open the first door. Before he had a chance to open it, I spoke up.
“It’ll go faster if we split into two teams. Hoot, I’ll go with you. Sam, you can go with Gus.”
“You don’t want to stick with Gus?” asked Hoot.
“No. It’s not that. I just know we’re both distracted, so it’s best if each of us teams up with someone who isn’t.”
Gus looked down at his boots. “She’s right.”
We didn’t speak after that. We opened the first six doors without issue. The rooms each held three electric beds, still semi-dressed in white sheets and quilts and afghans. A few were bare as if waiting for a new patient to arrive. In one, an IV pole lay haphazardly in its side next to a bed that was smeared in feces that had long ago dried. Hoot and I had the pleasure of clearing that one. The seventh door led to the ladies’ restroom. It held a single toilet and sink and one corner was dedicated to a walk-in shower. The toilet had clearly been used several times and now held a composted slush. I left the room quickly, gagging as I ran out.
Hoot and I took the last door, number nine, while Gus and Sam went back to shut the prior doors. As soon as Hoot pushed the door inward, the growling of the dead broke the silence we had until then enjoyed. We held back long enough for Hoot to sweep the room with the narrow beam of his pen light. The creature that sounded tortured was in the back corner. Male or female was a guess. It was sitting still strapped into a wheelchair, tipped onto its side. It was bloated, much like a Hunter, but postured and sounded like a Roamer. Thin gray hair plastered to stretched, moist-appearing skin on its forehead. It had no legs. A double amputee. Jaws opened and closed as it struggled to pull itself toward us.
“Jesus,” said Hoot. “The poor fuck.”
I walked to it, boldly.
“Zoe, I’ll get it,” said Hoot.
“No. Let me.”
I held my knife tightly and squatted in front of the snapping jaws. I looked into the eyes of the creature. They were clouded and sunken. One pupil appeared silver, the other a hue of green. I sensed nothing from it, but knew it was ravenous. There was something else, though. Sadness. Its eyes held sadness. We fixed on each other and the creature’s jaws stopped snapping at me. As my face drew nearer to that of the dead, everything around me grew silent. The air grew warm and filled with the scent of old lady roses and moth balls. A great sense of peace swirled around me and filled me. As I began to merge with the creature on some nonphysical level I couldn’t begin to understand, the air was sucked from my lungs when I was torn from a plane of numbing bliss. My spine hit the edge of something hard, causing searing pain in my ribs. I struggled to breathe again while watching Hoot kick the creature’s head until it split open and oozed black clots of rotting brain tissue onto the floor.
“Zoe!” he yelled as he ran back to me. “We have to go! Get up!”
I looked at him, not quite comprehending. There were too many noises around us. Yelling, gunfire, someone screaming. The crash of metal and breaking glass.
“Get her out!” I heard Gus shout.
“Jesus Christ! There’s more coming!”
“The front door’s blocked! Get out the windows!”
“They’re out there too. Oh God, watch out!”
I recognized each voice but had trouble attaching them to their owners.
Hoot grabbed me forcefully under my bandaged arm. The resulting pain brought me out of my haze.
“Hoot! What is it?” I demanded, yelling to be heard over the commotion.
“Get up! We have to move!” was his only answer.
“Gus!” I screamed.
The only reply was rapid gunfire and screaming. Hoot pulled on my arm as I struggled to get away.
“Gus!” I yelled again.
“Zoe, get out!” he finally answered.
“Stop fighting me, damnit!” growled Hoot.
The gunfire stopped suddenly and my core filled with ice as a new scream pierced the air. The only times I had ever heard a scream that grating and full of pain was when someone was being consumed alive by the dead. It lasted far too long, finally being cut short by the sound of a single shot.
A vibration tore through the building. It was low and deep and vaguely familiar. My footing became unstable when the building lurched. Bits of dust and ceiling rained down around us and my ears were filled by a strange sensation akin to pressure.
“Duck and cover!” yelled Gus.
Hoot forced me to the ground and climbed on top of me. His weight was crushing. Another explosion rocked the building, but farther in the distance. The area quickly grew to be a mini war zone, littering us with debris. Hoot tightened his arms around me each time a new blast shook us. What must have only lasted a few minutes felt like an eternity. Eventually the explosions stopped and the moans of the dead and screams of the living and the sounds of gunfire faded, replaced by the creaking and moaning of an unstable building.
“Are you okay?” Hoot whispered against my cheek.
I wasn’t able to find my voice, so nodded my head instead.
“Stay still while I try to stand up.”
I nodded again.
He shifted his weight and took a sharp breath inward.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“I think something hit my ankle. It hurts like a bastard. I jarred my fucking wrist too. Son of a mother fuck.”
The sound of rubble shifting in the distance caused us both worry. We weren’t in a good position to fight or defend.
“Zoe? Hoot?”
Gus’ voice. He was alive. I took a small breath of relief.
“Here,” I called back. “Hoot’s hurt.”
“Stay there. I’ll find you guys.”
I froze when I heard unfamiliar voices. Someone was barking instructions. Check for survivors. Make sure they’re not human before you put them down. I saw eight enter and we’ve only got the one girl on board. One’s dead. Looking for six more.
Hoot and I hunkered down waiting for Gus. He found us quickly and with not much effort.
“Did you guys hear that?” asked Gus in a very low whisper.
“Yeah,” Hoot and I said in unison.
“I think we need to risk it,” Hoot said to Gus in particular.
“I don’t trust people anymore,” Gus admitted. “But, your foot looks fucked up and we need to get to safety.”
The two men nodded at each other before looking at me. I nodded my agreement.
“We’re here to help!” called a deep male voice.
“Call out if you can hear us,” a much softer feminine voice called out.
“Here! We’re here!” I called out.
“How many?” the woman called back.
“Three,” I yelled.
“Stay put. We’ll come to you.”
I began to shake as adrenaline continued to build in my system.
CHAPTER 14
The reconnaissance group found us while on one of their final scouting missions; they were on their way back to what they called Alpha Base. Their diesel fuel supply was running critically low, and they were desperate to fill their large trucks with supplies before running out. The horde rushing the old
folk’s home was a sure sign of life inside. Chanel, the woman who had ultimately located us was young and had a kind face. Her dark brown hair was cropped short on one side and fell to her chin on the other. There were five in her group in all, but three were lost when the dead overtook them just outside the nursing home. As I suspected, Graeme was gone. It was Jessa who fired the shot that ended his torture. She hadn’t spoken since and Gus explained that she was in shock. Sam survived, but barely. A wall collapsed near him, re-shattering his injured wrist. Jenny hadn’t been as fortunate. She was killed in one of the blasts. We searched for Autumn until a new wave of the dead approached. We never did find her, alive or dead, leaving morale low.
The vehicle we were in was a piecemeal of different automobiles. The cab from a pickup, the body of a large windowless van. A hatch was welded into the ceiling with a metal platform bolted to the floor below and bench seats lined the inside walls. Holes no larger than two inches in diameter were drilled at even spaces about two feet below ceiling height. Chanel sat in the back with us while her companion took the front driver’s seat. He was an older man who bore scars on his left arm and face, and I suspected he bore a lot of mental baggage. He didn’t say much, but when he did his voice was commanding if not terrifying. Hoot sat beside Jessa, trying to comfort her. Sam lay on the rear-most bench, thankfully not conscious. His hand was bloody and unnaturally twisted. It was beginning to turn purple from swelling. Even in his deep sleep, an occasional wince or moan escaped him.
“Chanel, I need you up top! There’s one of the fast ones at 11o’clock,” the man said gruffly.
“On top of it,” she called back.
She stepped up onto the metal platform and struggled to push the hatch open. She was clearly too short to be effective with the task. Gus stood and jumped into action, helping her.
“Let me get it,” he said in a cool and even tone.
“Chanel! I’ve got a bad feeling!” called the driver.
“Ernie, I can’t reach! I’m sending the new guy up top!”
“Zoe, hand me your pistol!” Gus shouted down to me.
The metal hatch made a loud thud on the roof of the van as it slammed backward. Gus disappeared from the waist up and I handed him my gun. Before long the sound of shooting was followed by Ernie emitting a loud “whoop!”
Four more pops came from the gun and the van swerved to the left.
“Bring him back down, Chanel. We’re clear enough.”
“On it.”
“I’ll get him,” I said as I stood.
Sam began moaning in the background. Chanel looked at me and nodded.
“I’ll tend to your friend. What’s his name?”
“Sam,” I said quickly. “His wrist was already broken, but not like this.”
“We have a first aid kit. I’ll give him a shot of morphine. Once we get home we’ll have Doc look at him.”
I tugged at Gus’ jeans to signal him down. The van-slash-truck jarred to the left and I stumbled, catching myself against Gus as he emerged from the hatch.
“Careful,” he said as we struggled to upright ourselves.
Sam yelped in pain.
“Ernie, what the hell is going on?” Chanel called up to the cab.
“Fucking animal or something ran across the road. I got it.”
The jolting calmed as he straightened the vehicle.
“Or something?” asked Hoot.
“Not sure what it was. It’s almost dusk,” answered the driver. “I don’t wanna turn around to find out.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” said Hoot. His forehead was wrinkled and he looked full of deep thought.
“Sam? My name’s Chanel. I’m gonna stick you with some morphine, love, okay?”
His teeth were clenched and his brow was soaked in sweat. The best he was able to do was groan between his teeth.
“Chanel, do you need help with that?” asked Gus.
“I’ve almost got it.” She struggled to stick the syringe needle into a small vial. The routine motion of the vehicle made it difficult and she unfortunately stuck herself in the hand.
Gus crouched down beside her and took the vial.
“I’m used to doing this on the move. I’ll take over if it’s okay?”
“Yeah sure,” she answered. “Are you a doctor?”
“Former ARMY nurse. Humvee, helicopter, boat...you name it, I’ve delivered care in pretty rough terrain.”
I sat on the remaining bench seat and watched Gus work. Chanel stayed at his side to help hold Sam’s arm still. She seemed eager to learn and eager to help others. Something about her was calming. It was a matter of only seconds after Gus injected the medication into Sam’s vein that he calmed. Chanel covered him with a yellow blanket as he fell asleep. Gus rummaged through the first aid kit while Chanel excused herself to sit up front with Ernie.
As she walked past me, I stood and caught her attention.
“Thanks for helping Sam.”
“It’s no problem. Really.”
She smiled at me. Her eyes were a warm chocolate brown. We had encountered so many evil people on our journey so far that it was difficult to trust anyone new. Chanel felt different.
“Nell, I’m pulling off at the next clearing,” said Ernie.
“I hate it when he calls me that,” she grumbled before flashing a brief smile at me. “Okay. Want me to drive the rest of the way?”
“You know it,” he said with a sigh.
“I better head up front. We’ll talk more later,” she said.
I sat back down on the bench seat and drew my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms. My forearm ached and I felt dizzy. My heart ached for both of my daughters, as well as baby Emmett. For a moment I considered using the morphine in the first aid kit for myself, a dose big enough to end my own life. Shortly after, Gus sat down next to me. I kept my face down. He exhaled loudly and wrapped his arms around me hard.
“No, Zoe. We’ve both lost so much. I can’t lose you too.”
He had heard me, even though his spirit was absent within my own mind; yet another void in my life.
I cried softly and leaned against him, still not looking up.
“It hurts so bad,” I moaned. “I can’t live without her, Gus. I can’t.”
“We have to, love. Hope would want us to live. Anything less would be dishonoring her beautiful memory.”
I finally lifted my head. Gus used his thumbs to wipe the tears that were streaming down my face.
“How am I supposed to go on, though?” I asked quietly.
“Our love for each other, darlin’. Right now it’s all I have to give you. It has to be enough. Let it be enough. Please, let it be enough?”
I clung to him, the pain from my gunshot wound paling in comparison to the pain within my heart. Eventually the vehicle slowed and came to a stop.
“We’re taking a quick rest break,” Gus said as he kissed the top of my head. “Do you need to get out?”
I shook my head side to side. “No.”
“Lay down and sleep? Please?”
“’Kay. Just for a little while.”
He stood and I allowed myself to stretch out horizontally. Gus tucked his jacket under my head and I soon fell into a fitful sleep. I woke briefly when Sam called out in pain, and again when Ernie fell into a coughing fit. Each time, Gus was sitting on the floor of the vehicle right beside me. Dreams came in bursts, each containing their own horrors: the dead devouring Hope’s body, Molly in a crib crying for me, finding Gus dead in bed, being trapped in a car submerged in a river. Gus woke me from the worst of them; I had been dreaming that I died and came back as one of the living dead. In the nightmare, I had been about to devour Gus. It was a relief when my husband woke me.
“Chanel says we’re almost there,” he said to me. “They have a proper doctor who will look you and Sam over. I’ll ask them for something to help you sleep.”
“Where are we going?”
“They have a building they’ve secu
red up by the border. Some hole-in-the wall place that was under construction. Ernie says it’s fortified and they’re almost done finishing the exterior. They have about thirty people living there. He says it’s secure, they have food, and medicine. I feel good about these people, Zo. I really do”
I nodded but didn’t say anything.
The vehicle slowed and the brakes squealed as we went over a bump. Sam moaned but didn’t wake up. He looked so pale and waxy. The bandage around his wrist was soaked in red.
“We’re here,” Chanel called back.
Ernie sat on the couch across from us. He stood, guarding his back like it ached.
“It’ll just take the fence crew a minute to let us in,” he said.
“How can we help?” asked Hoot.
“Just keep an eye out for the dead. We’ll drive in and the crew will shut the gate behind us. We’ll get your friend here to see Doc right away. Maybe help get him out of the van?”
“Sure. Anything.”
After only a few moments the van proceeded forward at barely a crawl. Metal clanged as we drove over something. We all leaned as Chanel made a sharp right turn. We came to a stop and the engine died. Looking through one of the holes in the van wall, it looked like an underground parking garage.
“We’re here,” said Ernie with a stern look on his face. “I’ll introduce you formally later, first I need to tell the rest of our group about our fallen comrades.”
The barn doors on the back of the van opened and a short middle aged woman looked in. She wore a look of confusion.
“Ernie, you brought us survivors?”
“Yes, ma’am. One needs Doc real bad. Can you call for him?”
“Of course. Where’s Barry, Caroline, and Ashok?”
Ernie shook his head side to side.
“Oh crap. Crap crap crap,” she repeated. “That’s gonna devastate the group.”
Chanel made her way to the back of the rig and spoke softly. “Our new friends also lost a lot of their people.”
State of Grace Page 12
