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The Infected Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3]

Page 52

by Zuko, Joseph


  In the parking lot, Tina and Sara blasted the heads off a dozen infected creepers. They weren’t the only people racing to their cars, but they were the heaviest armed. Families fled their homes like rats on a sinking ship. Tina had to watch as her neighbors, who were packing nothing but steak knives and brooms, tried to escape. Their flimsy weapons couldn’t protect them and they were quickly gobbled up by the hungry horde. It was absolute chaos.

  Sara finished off a little twerp of a zombie. The blast of the shotgun sent its tiny chewed up body into the side of some neighbor’s sedan. It left a smear four-feet wide on the doors and set off the car’s alarm.

  It was nearly impossible to hear over the ear piercing alarm.

  “Behind you!” Tina called out.

  Sara spun, blasted a round into an infected skull. She counted her shots and it was empty. Sara tossed the gun into the back of the PT Cruiser. She loved how the shotgun didn’t need precise aiming, but hated its kick. It was like an asshole jock was playing slug-bug and punching her in the shoulder with everything he could muster. Sara switched to the Glock, zeroed in on the next row of zombies and popped out their infected zombie brains with a few easy pulls of the trigger.

  Cliff stomped down the steps with Morgan in his arms, “Get in the van!” he called to his wife.

  Tina put her last round of .38 into the skull of a crawling zombie that pulled its way over to the van.

  Sara finished off one full magazine and switched to her back up. Cliff opened the van’s side door and dropped off Morgan in the center row. A fast moving monster emerged from the darkness behind him. It headed for the dead center of Cliff’s back. He didn’t see or hear it. Sara took two large steps to help close the gap as she slid the mag into the butt of her gun.

  Tina saw it bearing down on her husband, “CLI-”

  He had just set Morgan down on the seat when he felt the fingertips brush his back.

  POP! POP! POP! POP!

  Sara sent her nine-millimeter rounds into the side of the zombie’s skull. The momentum of her shots caused the dead body to change course and it crashed into the back of the van. Cliff flinched and ducked down. The loud blast of Sara’s gun shaved off a few years of his life. He spun around in time to see the body fall off the back of the van and land with a thud on the asphalt.

  “Holy shit!” Cliff rubbed at his buzzed scalp. “Thank you!”

  Frank and Jim descended the last of the steps with Devon in tow.

  “No worries,” Sara was rattled, but she didn’t show it.

  Cliff called across the lot towards Jim, “I’ll follow you!” He popped open the driver’s side door.

  Sara moved to open the backdoor of the PT Cruiser.

  “The place is on the other side of 192nd right behind the QFC!” Jim yelled back over his shoulder. They tried as gently as they could to place Devon down in the backseat, but the young man was in all kinds of agony and he was letting everyone know it. They got him set and slammed his door shut. Jim pulled the spear from his back and tossed it into his ride. Frank let out a loud whistle and pointed out ahead of them.

  Another godforsaken horde stood between them and their exit. The three of them stepped in front of the PT Cruiser and opened fire. The zombies were just far enough away from the flames that they were harder to see in the dark. They kept their guns trained on the center mass that blocked the main way out. Frank clicked empty and he flipped over to his second magazine. Jim and Sara clicked empty on their guns.

  “Get in!” Jim bark as he dropped his rifle off in his car and pulled his pistol. Sara raced around to her side of the Cruiser and jumped into the back seat next to Devon.

  Red seeped through the bandage. “FUCK!” she cursed in Devon’s face.

  “I know! It hurts like hell!” He tried to keep pressure on the wound, but it hurt to touch it. Sara didn’t have a problem putting pressure on it and she placed both hands onto the top of his thigh. He cried out.

  “Hey!” she slapped him across the cheek to get his attention, “Man up! I don’t want you screaming in my ear all the way there!”

  Devon stopped and chewed at his bottom lip. The slap was kind of a dick move on Sara’s part, but it worked.

  Outside the car Frank pulled both of his Berettas once his SKS clicked empty. The two men squeezed through all forty plus rounds and the lot was as clear as it was going to get. Only a couple of stragglers remained. Jim would have to risk the radiator in the PT Cruiser and make a break for it.

  A pack of zombies had surrounded the back of Cliff’s van. They punched at the windows and tried to get at the girls. The van’s engine revved and he was ready to burn rubber.

  “That’s it! Time to move!” Frank pulled his side door open and hopped in.

  Jim yanked on the door knob and looked back at the burning building behind him.

  There it goes. Jim thought.

  The apartment he hated these last few years was about to be ravaged by an unstoppable fire, along with all of his possessions. He was too tired and beat down by the day to mutter out anything other than, “Fuck!”

  Chapter 15

  Karen had been laying in the bed for hours. As tired as she was she could not get her brain to turn off. Her thoughts kept replaying the day. The fight with Steve in the apartment, the injury to her wrist, the fact that she had left Valerie in the back of the Dodge as she ran away. The way the gun felt in her hand as she pulled the trigger to finish off her own mother. She brooded over where the hell Jim could be. Karen needed a distraction. She slipped her cell out of her pocket and swiped it on. The battery was down to sixty percent and she had left the charger at the apartment. She tried to call Jim, but there was no getting through. The phone said all of the circuits were busy and to try again later. She clicked on the Facebook app. No one had made any updates in hours. Karen’s online friends and family that stretched across the nation were all saying the same thing.

  “I can’t get anyone on the phone at the police station! Is there a way to contact them online?”

  “Please help me. I’m trapped and my husband tried to kill me!!!”

  “My son has been bit! Has anyone heard what to do? Is there a cure???”

  “No one’s answering at the school. Did they get the kids out safely??”

  Her news feed went on and on. Every one of them were confused, panicked and facing death. This was not helping her get to sleep. It was making it worse. She turned off the app and then she opened her photos. Karen’s phone was full to the brim with photos and videos. It was so full she had to constantly delete the old ones to take any new photos. She thumbed through photo after photo of the two girls looking adorable. There was a photo of Jim holding Valerie when she was a few months old. It was their first time taking the baby to a restaurant. The photo brought a smile to her face. She kept looking. There was a shot of Jim and her at a Halloween party. They were dressed like Macho Man Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan. There was a Christmas pic of the whole family with Santa at the local Macy’s. She clicked on a video of the family singing happy birthday to Robin when she turned one. The baby looked terrified and confused. She clicked on another video of a drunk Jim riding a mechanical bull. The iron beast turned, spun around, bucked and in an instant Jim was on his back laughing. The next photo was of a monster, dark purple bruise the size of a grapefruit that was on Jim’s inner thigh from the bull ride. There were forty pictures of Jim and Karen out on date nights. She loved to take a picture of them reaching across the dinner table and holding each other’s hands, their fancy cocktails sitting decoratively in the background. Seeing the photos of the two of them together and happy helped to calm her. She was no longer focusing on the horrible day. Instead she was dreaming about the wonderful past. She thumbed through two hundred photos that spanned the last four years. Each one filling her heart with love and warmth, replacing all of her negative thoughts with pure ones and she was ready to fall asleep.

  Karen woke to the sound of Robin crying. She felt like she had just c
losed her eyes and now she had to get up. This wasn’t a shock. Robin had been an amazingly easy kid to potty train and she was not one to pee the bed. Instead, the little one would partially wake up, sit on her knees and cry until someone took her to the bathroom. Karen was pretty used to waking up in the middle of the night and making this run to the toilet with Robin. It happened almost every night. Karen scooped up her baby and carried her to the master bathroom. When Karen placed the wobble legged child down on the floor to get her little underwear to her ankles, Robin looked comical. She shook and gyrated like this was her first time standing on her own. Karen had to keep Robin’s ginger noggin between her thighs as she set the still sleeping kid down on the toilet. She once made the mistake of walking away mid-stream and Robin toppled forward off the throne. She fell, face first and landed hard on the bathroom floor. Karen felt horrible and from that day forward made sure she was there to brace her until the end.

  Robin finished and Karen got ready again for bed. On the walk back to the mattress Karen heard a noise coming from somewhere in the house. A thump, and it was beating like a drum. She was so exhausted that she contemplated leaving it alone and not investigating the cause of the sound.

  It could be Troy. Maybe he needs help. She thought.

  She laid Robin down on the bed next to her sister, picked up her gun and quietly headed out of the bedroom. The thumping got louder as she weaved down the hall into the kitchen. The interior lights were all out, but there was light leaking in through the boarded up sliding glass door. This walk reminded Karen of all the horror movies she used to watch in her teens and into her twenties. The strong female lead walked into the darkness and toward the scary noise instead of leaving it alone and calling the cops. She just needed the musical stinger and a stupid cat to jump out at her and the scene would be complete. The exterior light was on in the backyard. She knew it was off when she went to bed.

  Who would turn it on? It’s like leaving an open sign on for any infected in the area!

  Karen turned on the dining room light. She was startled to see Troy sitting on the floor with his shoulders to the wall, banging the back of his skull against the sheetrock. Tears flooded the big teddy bear’s face and he was choking down gulps of air.

  “Troy! Stop that!” Karen barked. The sudden flash of light and yelling voice snapped him out of his trance. His red, glassy eyes flicked up at Karen.

  His head came to a stop and it rested against the wall, “Mama’s dead.” Saying the words brought all of his emotion to a focal point and he fell apart in front of his sister.

  “I know,” she said as she rushed to his side. Her sadness resurfaced. She took a seat next to him on the floor and they draped their arms around each other. Their tears poured like Niagara Falls. Minutes rolled by before either of them could come close to forming words.

  “I woke up on the couch and…and couldn’t remember how I got here. I… I went to go for a smoke and found the door all boarded up. I turned on the light and there…there she was…dead. It’s all my fault!” Troy spit the sentence onto Karen’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. I should have stayed here and protected her.” Troy punched at the floor.

  Karen struggled to regain her ability to speak. She pulled her head off of Troy’s shoulder. “If you had stayed here, then the girls and I would be dead. You know Mama wouldn’t stand for that. That woman would take a bullet for us. She’d jump in front of a train to save either of us and you know it.” Karen was not sure who she was trying to convince. Troy, herself, the real answer was both.

  “What are we going to do without her?” Troy asked.

  “Whatever it takes.” Karen ran her hand over her nose and wiped it clean.

  “We gotta get her buried. I don’t want those bastards to take a single bite out of her.” Troy pushed the tears off his cheeks.

  “In the morning. We should wait until it’s light out.”

  “We gotta do it right now, damn it! I can’t sleep until it’s done!”

  Karen studied her brother’s face. She could see that there was no changing his mind on this. “Let’s get the shovels,” Karen pushed herself up off the floor and helped Troy to his feet.

  They entered the garage. Troy was confused by the new Subaru that was filling up the garage.

  “Where did you guys get that?” Troy asked as he grabbed a shovel.

  “Down the street at the neighbors.” Karen picked up a lantern that hung from the wall.

  “Good thinking. We should fill it with supplies in case we need to make a quick exit.” Troy picked up a second shovel and slung both of them up onto his shoulder.

  Karen felt she didn’t need to go into any more details about what happened when they got the car. The garage had its own exterior door that led to the backyard. They stepped through it and out onto the concrete pad where their Mother laid dead. It was chilly out and a cold wind blew in from the west. Karen could smell the smoke from all the fires that were still burning in the surrounding areas. They tip toed out into the backyard. Troy checked the gate and made sure it was shut. He peeked through a gap in the fence. Karen joined him and they both checked to make sure the street was clear. It was so quiet out. Only the sound of the wind blowing in the trees could be heard. The second they started digging into the earth they were going to make a lot of noise. If there were any infected in the area they would be on the two of them in an instant.

  The street lamps glowed brightly. They could see the Charger and the mound of dead bodies that laid all around it. The scene was grizzly. The twisted body parts and coagulated blood filled the street. The big body of the infected bruiser that stopped the police cruiser cold was poking out from under the backend of the cruiser. A gust of wind hit Karen in the face and there was another odor mixed in with the smell of smoke. It was the dead bodies. A horrible realization popped into Karen’s head.

  We’ll have to burn the bodies.

  How bad would it reek after a couple of warm spring days? Karen thought to herself.

  The smell of rotting flesh would be unbearable. There was another chore she had to put on the list.

  A lot of the houses still had their interior lights on. There was no one to turn them off. It meant that those houses could be looted without the worry that someone might get hurt. Karen made a mental note of all the houses with their lights on. They would need to gather as many supplies as they could. They waited and watched the street for a few minutes just to be sure.

  Troy whispered, “Do you see anything?”

  “It looks clear to me.” Karen stepped away from the fence.

  They could get to work.

  “Where should we dig?” Karen held the lantern up and surveyed the backyard. She tried to keep her gaze off of the two dead bodies at her feet. “Where would it be safe? We don’t want to hit a power line.”

  “We should put her next to the flower bed,” Troy said as he headed in its direction.

  Karen followed him and set the lantern down on the ground next to the proposed grave.

  “Alright let’s get this over with,” Troy said as he drove the shovel’s head deep into the soft dirt.

  Chapter 16

  Jim and Karen’s wedding video, their wedding photos, photos of the children, computers, a massive DVD collection and every other memento that Jim cherished were now barbequed. There was no home for him and his family to go back to.

  What more could this day throw at me? Jim thought as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

  Jim had worked in sales for a decade and he was always astonished when people freaked out and lost their cool over simple mistakes or problems.

  This dishwasher you sold me doesn’t fit and now I want a free one for the inconvenience!

  The refrigerator you sold me has a scratch and now I want a new one and money off and I want it here before five o’clock today or else I’ll call my lawyer!

  Jim always wondered what these people would do if something really bad happened to them. What if th
ey lost a leg or a family member was murdered violently in front of them? How absolutely nuts would they go then? Because Jim had to deal with people like that on a weekly basis he had developed a strong attitude of “it could always be worse” to help keep things in perspective and not lose his cool when a shit storm exploded into the fan.

  Your rental car got broken into and you have to pay for a new window out of pocket.

  At least you can walk with your own two legs.

  Lost your house because you couldn’t make the payments.

  At least you are not blind.

  Your home burned down and you’re forced to make a run for it in the middle of the night with flesh eating monsters around every corner.

  Well, at least you are upright and breathing and not one of these zombie assholes. There was no time to waste throwing a fit about how screwed up everything was. It would only get him and his crew killed. Devon let out a howl as they crossed a speed bump.

  “Sorry,” Jim said as he aimed to miss the next one.

  “He’s fine.” Sara spoke on Devon’s behalf. She had liberated a medical kit out of Jim’s backpack and was trying to wrap another layer around his leg to stop the bleeding. “Get us somewhere safe.” She cinched the wrap down on his wound and tied off the knot.

  Jim glanced at the rearview mirror. Cliff’s van was right behind him. Speed in this circumstance was not their ally. It was better safe than sorry. The PT Cruiser’s engine was weak sauce and it was weighed down by the four bodies and hundreds of pound of weaponry in the back. They traveled the backstreets of Vancouver at a leisurely twenty-five miles per hour. They wouldn’t set any land speed records, but Jim hoped they would get there in one piece. He left the high-beams on and the headlights cut through the night like a knife. Jim wanted to get home to his family more than anything, but he didn’t want to make this run in the middle of the night. He couldn’t see the monsters until they stepped out onto the street and they all made a beeline for his car’s front grill. Jim weaved between their outstretched arms and he feathered the gas pedal to zip by the fast ones. Clusters of recently turned humans choked the intersections. There was an army of monsters and they were growing by the minute.

 

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