The Infected (Book 5): Battleground
Page 12
I’m dead.
The idea of turning the shotgun on herself flashed through her mind.
It would be quick and hopefully painless.
At first, taking her own life seemed the better course, but what if she missed. What if she only managed to take her jaw off. The thought of being torn limb from limb, with half her face missing from another ill-conceived plan, didn’t sit well with the poor girl. Black juice oozed from the monster’s open mouth and splattered her chin. She gagged.
No way am I going to turn into one of these mindless things. She promised herself.
The pack of infected were seconds away. Shawna quickly made her decision. She tugged the barrel toward her jaw. Her finger searched out the trigger.
Am I really going to take my own life?
There stood her two choices. Suffer a few minutes of agonizing pain as the creeps tore into her like a pack of wolves, then possibly go to Heaven? Or commit suicide and suffer an eternity of burning in hell? Her digit found the trigger as the gun came for her skull. This was it. Either way, Shawna faced the end of her existence. The last chapter of her life. Her finger tugged at the trigger. A cascade of regrets rushed her. The marathons she promised herself she would run. Vacations she swore she’d take. The angry last words with her Mother. Not fighting harder to find true love. Rushing through life. All the while hoping the next year would be better. Buying that ridiculously expensive memory foam mattress. Not punching Kara Mackie in her face after she lied about sleeping with Brad.
At the tippy top, the peak of the mountain, the thing she regretted most was not knowing the fate of her beloved Daisy. The idea of such a beautiful little puppy living her last moments on Earth alone, afraid and in pain, ripped Shawna’s heart from her chest.
Tears formed as the steel barrel pressed tight against the softness of her chin.
Halfway through the trigger’s pull she was caught off guard by a rapid blast of gunfire. Wet bodies hit the pavement.
Someone took out the pack of zombies! In that moment, she pushed the barrel away from her jaw, aimed it at the attacker and squeezed. As the buckshot left the gun, a surge of heat radiated from the steel tube and blistered her fingers. The zombie’s mug came off in one massive clump. Cranial fluids gushed from the wrecked skull and poured into Shawna’s face. She was covered with a thick layer of black gore that blinded her temporarily.
Gunshots came from every direction. Shawna was sure this group of kidnappers were trying to kill her. She rolled from under the dead body and ran her forearm across her face. Her vision was distorted by the black ooze, but she recognized the man’s outline.
A fuzzy and out of focus Leon appeared next to her. He fired a handful of shots until his rifle clicked empty. He hooked his arm under Shawna’s, yanked the woman to her feet and yelled. “Move it!”
She swiped her blistered hand once more across her sticky sockets. The rain helped rinse the tainted blood from her face and now she saw exactly what was happening.
Sara stood at the edge of the building and fired her rifle into the mass of zombies. Karen crouched on one knee and emptied her handgun from the top of the bus. Another rifle poked from the side of the yellow rig. Golden muzzle flashes accented each shot. Leon’s hand was on Shawna’s spine as he pushed her forward. Bodies dropped as flying lead pulverized the scrambling dead.
“Get on the bus,” Leon screamed in her ear.
The remaining zombies sprinted after them. Shawna glanced behind her. Leon was just outside the monster’s grasp.
She was dumbfounded.
Why did he risk his life for mine? These people were strangers and responsible for killing two different groups from her church. Yet, here they were, doing everything they could to keep her alive.
She stormed the stairs, two at a time. Leon flung the door shut behind him. A heavy body crashed against the reinforced steel. Leon kept his shoulder pressed tight against the door.
His chest heaved as he moved the bolt into its locked position. “Are you okay?” Asked Leon as he stepped for the driver’s seat.
Shawna struggled to catch her breath, “Yeah.”
A voice hissed from the center of the bus, “Were you bit?”
She spun and faced the man she stitched earlier that day. His rifle pointed straight at her forehead.
He took a large step in her direction, “I asked you a question!” His rifle was two feet from her face.
“No, I wasn’t bit!” Shawna’s voice trembled and her whole body shook.
His dark brown eyes studied hers for a few seconds. She guessed he was trying to gauge if she was lying. Then it hit her.
He’s waiting for me to turn, so he can kill me. Enough time must have passed because he lowered his rifle and snatched away her shotgun in one fast move.
Troy lowered bags of food through the emergency hatch. “Are y’all good?”
Jim’s body language morphed from combat mode to injured old man in the blink of an eye. “Yeah, we’re good.” He limped for the hatch. He set both guns in an empty seat and tugged the bags of food by their drawstrings. He slowly moved them out from under the hatch. A set of legs emerged.
Karen’s boot found the backrest of a seat as she lowered herself into the bus. Jim reached for her waist and wrapped his arm around her. He safely guided his wife until her toes tapped the floor of the bus. She draped her limbs around his neck and gave him a reassuring hug.
“You alright?” Jim asked as he gently kissed her neck.
“I’m fine.” She lied. “I need to rest, watch the girls play and destroy a bag of chips.” She caught a whiff of his breath. “You’ve had a beer?”
“Troy gave me one.” He lifted the opened brew from a neighboring seat and took a swig.
“Lucky dog.” She released him from her embrace and headed for the girls. “Leon?”
“Yeah?”
Everything she learned about Leon in the last twenty-four hours told her what to say next. “Those were some next level hero moves out there.”
He beamed like a lighthouse. “Yeah?” Leon ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair. A few strands of his black mane fell in front of his eyes. He gave Shawna and Karen a cocky grin. “I did what anyone would do…” His eyes went wild. A classic Leon smile inched across his wet face. “…I have come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass… and I’m all out of bubble gum.” He bobbed his head and waited for them to get the reference.
It was painfully clear, neither lady had seen the movie he quoted to perfection.
His smile disappeared as he cleared his throat. “Roddy Piper? They Live? It’s a cult classic from John… never mind.” Leon turned and faced the windshield. Deflated. His heroic deeds tossed out the door.
Karen picked up a garbage bag full of supplies. She dug until she found the two items she was after. A pack of baby wipes and a bag of zesty chips. “Here.” She tossed the wipes.
Shawna snagged them out of the air.
Karen eased her busted body into the seat with her girls and popped open the chips. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave.”
Shawna opened her mouth. Her apology a second away, when Karen cut her off.
“But don’t ever put one of us in danger, again. You understand?”
Shawna’s head dropped between her shoulders as she opened the wipes. She quickly plucked a few and ran them across her face. “I understand.”
“I needed you to patch Jim’s shoulder and leaving you alone in my Mama’s house wouldn’t have been the right thing to do either. We’re not kidnappers. Soon as Jim’s wounds heal a little more, we’ll find you a good rig and you can head back to your people. I promise.”
Shawna stared blankly. Too much had happened in too short of a period. There was no one to diagnose it, but she was suffering from traumatic stress. She slowly lowered her butt into the seat behind Leon. Faced the mirror above his head and continued to scrub her skin with the wipes.
“When you’re all clean, grab some food and water,” s
aid Karen as she plucked a salted triangle from the open sack and turned toward her children. “You guys having fun with the new toys?”
“Yes, Mama,” Valerie beamed.
“Mama,” Robin pointed at the doll’s head. “Hair.”
Karen leaned into her seat, closed her eyes and said, “That’s right, baby, she has hair.” The exhausted woman fed herself a second chip. Her hand was on autopilot. As fast as the mouth could chew, the hand was there to stuff another chip into the hungry orifice.
Troy passed another bag of supplies through the hatch. He called to Jim. “That’s the last one. I’ll be right back with the ladies.”
“Sounds good,” Jim grabbed the bag and placed it in an adjacent seat. The half full bottle of beer called his name. He inched, slow as a hundred-year-old man, for the front of the bus. On his way, he lifted his bottle and took a long swig.
“What’s the plan?” He let out a loud, exaggerated moan as he lowered himself into the seat across from Karen.
Without opening her eyelids, she said, “We drop Desiree at her house. Hope that goes well. Then head to your folks.”
“Beauty plan.” Jim reached for the open bag and snagged himself a taste.
“Touch my chips again and you’ll lose a finger.” There was zero jesting in her tone.
Troy steadied himself as he stepped from the bus to the metal canopy. The sole of his shoe squeaked as it shot forward six inches. His hands flailed in the air above his head as his legs spread across the gap. The ground below, appeared to pull away. It was as if he was sixty feet in the air. The remaining pack of zombies hobbled beneath him.
Troy mumbled to himself, “This isn’t where I want to be.” He rocked forward, and his momentum carried him onto the metal canopy. He exhaled a sigh of relief as he inched for the side of the building. “All right Desiree, I’ll lower you.”
“You think that piece of shit will hold the both of us?” Desiree’s fingers curled the top of the brick railing as she leaned over the edge and faced him.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but we don’t have a lot of options.” Troy raised his arms into the air. He stood like a father waiting to catch his kid as they jumped into the pool.
“It’ll be fine,” said Sara as she reached for Desiree’s bags.
“It’ll be fine, she says.” Desiree mocked Sara and handed her the sack full of cigarettes. “I’m only trusting my life to a seventy-year-old canopy, built by the cheapest contractor available.”
Desiree lifted her leg and hooked her ankle on top of the brick wall. “Fuck my saggy tits.”
Sara smirked and helped steady Desiree as she mounted the building. Troy’s hands cradled Desiree’s ample hips.
“I swear to Christ, if you drop me on my ass I’ll never forgive you.” Desiree’s thick makeup was completely ruined by the pouring rain. Her frown was exaggerated by the ring of red lipstick. She was like a horrifically sad clown. She let go of the building and as he promised, Troy lowered her to the canopy.
Troy strained, “It’s okay.”
“Shut your handsome face, don’t you dare curse me and say, ‘it’s okay’ until my fat butt is safe on that fucking bus.” She clung to his broad shoulders as if they were the only thing keeping her alive.
The structure groaned under their feet. The metal surface buckled and dented as they stepped toward the bus.
“You hop this gap and you’re home free, darling,” said Troy as they approached the edge of the canopy.
Desiree caught a glance of the infected below. “You’ve got to be joking. Take me back inside. I’ll ride this shit out in the store. What do I look like, a fucking stuntman?”
“You can do this. Your Father needs you.”
“I don’t give a shit about him. I want off this thing.” She tried to turn back for the building.
Troy pointed at the store. “The windows are gone. You can’t stay here. Besides, when Ryder wakes up from his nap, I can’t imagine he’s going to be very happy.”
She stopped pulling away and stared into the man’s soul.
“I promise. I won’t let you fall.” Troy narrowed his gaze to emphasize how serious he was about keeping his word.
“I promise, I’ll drag your fine ass down with me if you do.” She faced the bus and inched for the edge.
“We’ll go together.” Troy stood behind Desiree and wrapped his arms around her stomach. “On three.”
“I’ll do the counting, thank you!” yelled Desiree. She took a long rough breath. “One, two, three.”
At the same time, they took a wide step across the gap. A beat later they were safe atop the bus.
“See.” Troy released his grip on the woman.
“I didn’t see a damn thing. I had my peepers shut the whole time. Now, get me in the damn bus so I can stop having a heart attack.” Desiree moved for the hatch.
Sara slung the bag of smokes onto her shoulder, scaled the wall, turned her body at the ledge and dragged the tip of her boots down the brick wall as she lowered herself on to the canopy.
She slinked across the metal surface.
Troy released Desiree’s wrist once she planted both feet on the floor of the bus. He raised his meaty paw in Sara’s direction. She clasped her hand into his.
A zap of electricity sparked between their palms.
Or was it their imagination?
She jumped, Troy yanked and she was on the roof of the bus in a flash.
He placed his other hand on the center of her back to steady the woman.
“Safe and sound.” Their hands stayed locked together. “Can I buy you a beer?”
For a moment Sara’s stoic demeanor cracked. She regained her composure and pulled away. She moved for the hatch, squatted and lowered herself through the opening. “First rounds on me.” She disappeared into the bus.
Ryder lurched forward. He glanced around. The room was covered in blood. Pure confusion. Pain followed. One hand went for the wounds on his skull, the other cradled his sore testicles. The moments leading to his vicious knockout came to him.
“That bitch!” His fingertips circled the boot print around his eye socket. He fumed. “That fuckin’ redheaded cunt!”
Further realization hit him like a grand piano. He searched the floor for his shotgun. There was nothing in the room. Nothing but a shitty desk and a gallon of dried blood.
He released his balls and dug into his jacket pocket.
No keys.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill them!” Ryder got to one knee and used the desk to lift himself the rest of the way. His legs were wobbly. Frustration mounted. He punched his fist into the desk. He straightened his spine and moved for the office door. Ryder twisted the handle, but the exit didn’t budge. Then drove his shoulder into the solid wood and pushed with all his might.
He managed to get a six-inch gap. Boxes fell on the other side of the door. He busted through the blockade like a stampeding elephant. Dead bodies littered the floor. Rain trickled off the ladder that lead to the open hatch in the ceiling.
The rumbling sound of a diesel engine caught his attention. His lips curled into a scowl. Ryder quickened his pace as he headed for the showroom.
The shelves were half empty. Busted glass sparkled across the linoleum.
Three remaining infected bodies shuffled his direction. Outside there were more of the dead bastards.
Beyond them was the yellow bus with armor plating. It sat ten-feet from the front door. Everything went red. He balled up his fists and jumped into action.
Ryder launched his boot into the chest of the closest creep. The cracking sound of its busted ribs turned his frown upside-down.
He coasted along an empty aisle as the remaining infected gave chase.
At the edge of his tunnel vision he spotted something useful. A baseball bat with a set of knives taped to its end was propped against the counter. He jogged left and without breaking his stride plucked the deadly weapon from the floor.
Sensing the infected were drawing n
ear, he spun. The razor-sharp blades struck the side of the first one’s neck. The powerful swing took its head off in one fast motion. No time to reset. The last one was about to pounce.
In a fit of rage, Ryder grabbed the damn thing by its sloppy shirt collar and tossed it toward the front door. The monster launched, head first, through the plate-glass window.
Troy had just finished locking the emergency hatch when the flying body caught his attention. “What was that?”
The group glanced at the storefront.
Ryder blasted through the locked door, pointed the bat at the bus and with more conviction than any of them had ever seen in their lives screamed, “I’m gonna kill you motherfuckers!”
Even though the group was safe inside the war rig, surrounded by enough guns to start a small revolution, they believed him.
Chapter 14
Three passes of the high-powered machine gun and the entire field was cleared. The belt ran dry. The barrel hissed as rain drops fell onto the blistering hot steel. Smoke puffed from the ejector assembly. The tree line became still. A silence fell across the wasteland of destroyed corpses. The buzz of engines and rainfall were the only sounds.
Mason unplugged his index fingers from his ears, raised the mirrored shades from his nose and scanned the field. He patted Alayna on the leg and hollered through the turret. “You’re getting good with that thing.”
She flexed her hands. The gun’s impact was like running a jackhammer. “Thanks.”
Brady leaned toward the Hummer’s dash to get a better vantage. “I thought there were supposed to be, like, way more of them.”
Lisa shushed everyone and cocked her head at an angle.
There it was. Out in the distance. A low rumble.
The driver’s side mirror shook from the vibration.
Lisa shoved the wad of mint gum to the rear corner of her mouth and clamped it tight between her molars. The powerful tremors reminded her of a semester she spent in Africa. She was there on a mission. Spreading the word of Christ and helping bring medical supplies to the Chaga tribe. They lived in the region around Mount Kilimanjaro, the largest mountain on the continent. While there, Lisa had a chance to go on a safari and check out the wildlife. During the trip, they came across a herd of Cape Buffalo. Something had the animals spooked and they were moving in a hurry. The beasts traveled as if they were one mass. Shoulder to shoulder they tore across the land and kicked dust clouds hundreds of feet into the air as they glided across the arid ground. Lisa recalled the sensation. Once she saw God’s creatures stampeding through Tanzania her mind opened. The idea was so obvious, yet it never occurred to her. At least not in these terms.