The Infected (Book 5): Battleground

by Zuko, Joseph

  I am so friggin’ tiny.

  A single molecule on a clump of dirt.

  A snowflake in the Himalayas.

  Drop of water in the ocean.

  Whatever the analogy, she was consumed by the realization that her existence was a pin prick in the fabric of the cosmos.

  Now, years later and a half a world away, she had the same gut-wrenching epiphany, but this time it was book ended with a different kind of knowledge.

  These are unstoppable bloodthirsty beasts. They crave human flesh.

  The Earth shook underneath the vehicle’s tires, as it did back in Africa.

  Lisa didn’t have time to be crippled by terror. She had a job to do and no matter what, she was going to get it done. She was hardwired that way. Had been since birth. If a job was given, she would finish the task.

  She released the gum from her bite, blew a quick bubble, snapped it then grunted. “Thousands are right around the corner.” She stomped the gas, cranked the steering wheel and sped toward the front of the church.

  Cooper’s ears rung from the magazine he had emptied a moment ago. A high-pitched whine drowned out the ambient noise around him. Wet fists of the infected pounded at the windshield. The two monsters kept trying, but they couldn’t break the safety glass.

  The athletic, dead teenager, lay on top of him. Its toned body must have been close to one hundred-forty pounds, at most, but a limp body was like a half-filled bag of sand. Floppy and unmanageable. He was trapped. Locked in between the steering wheel and the seat’s backrest.

  At the semi’s busted window was a haggard face. The beast dragged itself through the jagged glass opening. A few of its front teeth were missing. It gave the thing a hillbilly vampire grin.

  Cooper struggled. The dead body was slick from the rain and its own blood. He couldn’t get leverage. His only move was to kick at the creature with his heel. Four solid strikes later the infected lost its grip on the side of the truck and fell backwards off the semi.

  He had to move fast. It wouldn’t be long before it’s ugly face would be back.

  Cooper strained.

  He fought under the body. Pushed and twisted. Cooper shoved until his arms were about to cramp. Finally, he managed to slip out from under the body and roll to his side. Cooper reached for the door handle and gave it a tug. Once the truck’s door popped an inch from the frame the monsters on the hood made a move for the new opening.

  The ringing in his ears had lowered enough for him to pick out the footsteps on the passenger side. The haggard faced creature was back for more.

  I can’t fight three at once.

  Not without a gun. Cooper panicked.

  The driver’s door swung wide. He clutched the wool collar of the dead girl’s jacket and pushed her toward the opening. The rifle strapped to his back dug into the muscles around his shoulder blade.

  The gun was his only chance for survival. He kept pressure on the limp body.

  The haggard face climbed through the busted window. Its chin was a few degrees off center and it seemed like the thing couldn’t shut its mouth on its own.

  I broke its jaw.

  That’s good.

  Even if its main weapon wasn’t working, he couldn’t let the jerk climb in without a fight. Cooper lashed out with his foot and pinned its skull against the door frame. In a bit of bad luck his kick reset the dislocated jaw and the blasted thing could open and shut its disgusting mouth again.

  Crap!

  Cooper had about six seconds to toss the dead body from the truck, grab the rifle and kill all three of them before he was turned into lunch.

  “No reason to panic!”

  The monsters on the hood of the semi leapt for the ground.

  A flurry of rifle fire caught them mid-jump.

  They fell to the earth.

  Dead.

  Really dead, this time.

  Cooper threw the teen’s limp body from the cab. It crashed, head first, to the dirt with a hard thud. The haggard faced infected broke free from Cooper’s foothold and pulled itself deeper into the truck.

  The Hummer skidded next to the semi’s open door. Brady hung out the window. His rifle tucked against his shoulder. Smoke wafted from the weapon.

  Cooper reached for the rifle at his back. He kicked both feet at the creep, but there was no stopping it. He got the gun out from under his torso, forced the barrel through the vampire grin of the infected and tugged the trigger.

  Brains splattered the inside of the cab. Every inch of the truck’s interior seemed to be covered in black sludge.

  “You okay in there?” Brady asked from the Hummer.

  Cooper righted himself in the driver’s seat. He ran his sleeve along his brow and cleared the gunk from his face. He spat slime as he said, “Yeah.”

  Lisa yelled. “Get rolling. More are coming.”

  He reached for the door and said, “I was about…”

  The Hummer pulled away and headed for the street.

  “…thanks for the help.” He gave them an exhausted wave goodbye, but they were long gone. He closed his door and groaned as he surveyed the mess all around him.

  Cooper tossed the rifle on the dash, leaned forward and found the key to the semi. It was hiding under a triangle shaped chunk of skull. He wiped the key on the only clean part of his jeans, slid it into the ignition and started the rig. A dead body still hung from the window on his right.

  “Sorry, buddy. I don’t need a backseat driver tagging along.” Cooper grabbed it by the neck and shoved it through the window. It landed with a splat.

  He popped open the glove box, plucked a handful of paper napkins and attempted to clean the black fluid from the windshield.

  Through gritted teeth he grunted, “I’m going to barf.”

  Brother Paul barked orders to his people as he jogged across the field. When he first stepped from the church, the field was a jumbled mess of vehicles. They were making a mad dash from the front line and got bogged down in the center of the grounds.

  After a few sharp orders he quickly got them whipped into shape.

  The break in the horde seemed like God was giving them a fighting chance at survival. He pushed harder, but the rain soaked mud clung to his boots and the thick layer of sloppy dirt was like wearing cinderblocks on his feet. He waved a van full of people forward and pointed at the street. An orderly line of rigs made a swift escape and one by one they pulled away from this godforsaken land.

  “Follow them!” He gestured toward another pickup truck.

  Paul continued his path. He knew he needed to head for one of the rides, but something pulled him in a different direction.

  He waved a few more cars forward and before he knew it, he was standing at the foot of Dana’s unfinished grave.

  The blue tarp wrapped around her cold body had blown off. Her pale face was exposed to the elements. Rain poured into the grave and an inch of water had collected around her.

  The image shattered him.

  How can I leave her like this?

  No ceremony.

  No headstone.

  Decades from now, a bleached skeleton, will be all that remained. The once strong and beautiful woman, picked clean by nature’s indifference.

  The horror of it slashed at his heart.

  She deserved better, but all he could do was run away, with his tail tucked between his legs. None of it sat right with him, but there wasn’t time for anything else.

  He didn’t even have a minute to say a proper eulogy.

  Tears threatened. Paul was close to the edge.

  More than ever he wished for an end to all the madness.

  Put the gun to your temple and join her. He knew his brain was bluffing. Paul’s faith would never let him do something so drastic, but for a second the cruel fantasy played.

  Two corpses.

  Rotting together in an unfinished, unmarked grave, surrounded by a field of decomposing bodies. Worms and insects got first dibs. They bloat with gas. No longer recogni
zable. Maggots get their fill as their bodies deflate.

  Winters and summers come and go.

  The pile of bones become one.

  Paul couldn’t take another second of the made-up reality. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Tears streamed. He swallowed the sour lump in his throat and said, “I love you.”

  Action erupted at the edge of the field. The rest of the horde had arrived. The stacks of bodies helped to slow their progress.

  Paul blinked away the rain and tears as he inspected the area. Only one vehicle remained.

  Cooper waved wildly from the semi’s cab. His voice barely carried above the thundering army of approaching dead.

  There it was. He made out a single word.

  “RUN!”

  Michael’s free hand rested on the handle of the front door of the church. It took a moment for him to realize it wasn’t his nerves causing the door to shake.

  It’s them.

  He released the handle and moved away from the exit. One large step later he bumped into Lindsey. Michael turned to face her.

  Before he could speak she asked him, “You ready?”

  He gave no answer and glanced away.

  A line of children stretched from one side of the room to the other. A handful of adults were speckled here and there at the front of the column. Crying toddlers clung to each of their necks. The rest of their parents were outside, waiting in the caravan of vehicles.

  Michael’s heart bled for them. If he had children, the idea of being separated from them during a crisis like this would be unfathomable, but they all had jobs to do, including Michael.

  He had to get all this precious cargo safely onto the bus.

  Halfway through the row of terrified children stood Scott. Ready to take the second group to the next bus. He readjusted the duffle bag at his back, extracted his sidearm and gave Michael a nod.

  A set of brakes squeaked outside the front door.

  “That’s the bus. Let’s move.” Doctor Bryant reached for the exit. She tucked the butt of her rifle to her shoulder as she pushed through the threshold and held one of the double doors open.

  A flash of lightning strobed. Quickly followed by a clap of thunder. The clouds opened even wider as they released a monsoon onto Vancouver. Raindrops the size of nickels came crashing to the pavement. They hit with such force that the drops bounced six inches back into the air before coming to a rest in the growing puddle around the church.

  This is it.

  I must face my fear head on.

  God will carry me through. Michael summoned his courage and reached for the other side of the double doors. He pushed it opened and stepped out into the world.

  Taggart parked the yellow rig fifteen feet from where Michael stood. Behind Taggart was a second bus. Vehicles ran along the street and curved around to the back of the church.

  The Hummer zipped from the corner of the building. It raced across a patch of well-manicured grass and headed for the front of the caravan. Michael waited until the military vehicle passed them before he faced the dozens of frightened faces. He raised his voice and was shocked when his words didn’t crack the moment he shouted. “Stay together! Run as fast as you can! We will protect you! Now go!”

  A steady stream of fleeing humans poured from the building. Screams filled the area and their cries of terror tripled when they were dowsed by buckets of cold spring rain. They skirted the cowcatcher attached at the front of the bus and raced onto the rig at an impressive pace.

  Lindsey raised the scope to her eye. The crosshair floated along the abandoned houses that lined the northern stretch of the neighborhood.

  Everything was quiet.

  She tracked along to the end of the block. An image filled her scope and stole her breath. A man stumbled from a bush. He was naked, head to toe. His pale skin, covered with lacerations. Before she squeezed the trigger, Lindsey spotted something.

  The object dangling between his legs. The man was well endowed. Perhaps one of the largest she had ever seen. She didn’t blush at the sight of a naked person, at this stage in her career she was used to it, but what caught her eye was its shape and color. It was all wrong. That’s when its member came into focus.

  He’s wearing a condom. The idea caught Lindsey by surprise.

  Talk about highest highs and lowest lows. One minute you’re having amazing sex with your partner and the next a monster crashes through the door and takes a bite out of your butt. The more she stared at the man’s thick appendage, the more her resolve hardened about getting laid.

  At least once more before a monster barges in and bites my ass. Her lips curled into the beginning of a smile. She sighted the crosshairs on its nose and squeezed. A black mist exploded from the back of its skull. Lindsey focused her scope again. Farther down the street was another horde. They appeared ravenous.

  Lisa pulled the Hummer onto the street, directly in front of the bus. Because of the rain the tires slid a few extra feet before coming to a full stop. Lisa spotted the horde approaching from the north. “Load another box.”

  Alayna was already on it. She grunted and muscled the container onto the platform.

  Brady ran a shaky hand through his hair. “What are we going to do when we run out of ammo?”

  Lisa snapped a bubble.

  Mason crawled from the passenger side to the driver’s side of the backseat. “We can’t think about that.” He cranked at the window’s handle and lowered the glass. Rain pinged off the door and splattered his mirrored shades.

  Brady turned in his seat “It’s all I can think about. The second that gun runs dry-”

  Lisa cut him off. “Quiet. You’re giving me a migraine.” In her side mirror she watched as the children sprinted from the church.

  Brady righted himself in his seat and lowered his window. “Do we even have our destination?”

  “Out of the city.” She spotted Dr. Bryant. Pastor Caruthers jogged at the end of the first group. Scott took his position at the door of the church. She tapped the gas and pulled forward about the length of a bus.

  Alayna snapped the lid shut on the machine gun and yanked at the bolt. She loaded this box twice as fast as the previous one. “I’m ready.”

  “Wait until they are closer. I don’t want a single shot wasted.” Lisa snapped another bubble. She did some fast math in her head. This batch of infected was going to hit the convoy at about the time Scott’s group was loading their last passenger.

  It’s gonna be a friggin’ nail biter. She snapped another bubble.

  Michael was the last to enter the bus. Taggart closed the door immediately after he made the first step. The noise inside the rig was intense. Michael needed to quiet them as fast as possible for his own sanity.

  Taggart shifted into gear. “Hang on everybody.” He pulled the bus forward.

  Michael stood at the head of the aisle. He grabbed at the adjacent railing to steady his balance and hollered at the top of his lungs. “Please, I need everyone to be silent! You’re all safe and we will be leaving shortly!”

  Their hysterics lowered to a dull roar.

  It’s a good start. He thought to himself. He took the seat next to Lindsey. Their knees bumped each other.

  The only highlight to an utterly miserable day. Michael’s psyche was desperate to find anything positive about the pile of excrement they were neck deep in.

  The second bus stopped a few feet from Scott. He signaled the teenaged boy at the front of the line to move. His heart was banging loudly against his chest. A violent tremor was taking place in his thighs.

  My legs are going to give out! Scott was sure of it.

  Since the start of this global epidemic he only watched the disaster unfold through the filter of his computer screen. Now he was about to step into reality and reality sucked.

  A sheen of sweat grew above his brow. Half of the remaining group had escaped from the church.

  We are almost clear. He let out a lungful of air.

  This is g
oing better than I thought it would. Once he spotted the approaching horde, he cursed himself for speaking too soon.

  Brother Paul sprinted the last twenty yards toward the waiting semi. Cooper met Paul halfway and parked the big rig in the center of the field.

  Paul rounded the front of the truck. There was nothing left to block his view from the army of the dead. The infected stormed over the piles of twisted bodies and severed limbs. Their disfigured features helped him to classify them as monsters. In his darkest dreams Paul could have never conjured such demons.

  He opened the passenger door. A gallon of slop drained from the cab floor, covered the steps of the semi and splattered his pants.

  Paul glanced around the cabin. “Did a grenade go off in someone’s mouth?”

  “Almost. Sorry about the mess,” said Cooper.

  “Me too.”

  Paul regretted not jumping in a different vehicle before they all sped away. He forced himself to climb into the truck. Shards of glass were mixed in with brains. He used the end of his gun to scrape them off the seat. His butt squished as he sat on the drenched seat cushion.

  Cooper let off the clutch and pressed on the gas, but they didn’t move. He tapped the pedal a little harder. Mud flung into the fenders. The field was a sloppy swamp and Cooper came to a stop on the wrong plot of land.

  The men faced each other. There was no hiding their fear.

  Paul’s head turned one-eighty. Outside his busted window, the horde advanced. They were thirty seconds away from getting torn apart.

  Please God, have mercy. Brother Paul prayed as his faith slowly decayed.