by Tim Moon
With a loud whoosh, a flare shot out of the garage and struck a bush at the corner of the driveway. It burst into flame thanks to the gasoline they’d poured on it and a second later there was a massive boom as a large gas can that Kaholo used for his lawn mower exploded. A huge fireball lit up the night and rose into the sky. Ben’s heart raced and he flinched when he felt the blast wave slam into him. It was too weak to injure him, but it was still surprising.
Hell was unleashed on the quiet street.
Guns on both sides began to crack and rattle off rounds. Cracks and pings announced bullets that impacted against the breezeway and Humvee. Keanu fired several bursts into the car and it stopped moving. A second car raced down the street from the opposite direction.
A round cracked past him and he felt a burning sensation on his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he kept firing. He saw muzzle flash and fired two rounds at it. Then he focused on the car coming toward them.
Ben aimed at the driver’s door, leading the target, and squeezed his trigger repeatedly. He definitely hit the car, but it was impossible to tell if he hit anyone inside it. A bottle trailing a small flame flew out of the car’s rear window, leaving a faint light trail in its wake. It burst in the driveway, scattering glass and flame in all directions. Luckily, the Molotov cocktail had little effect.
Shots came from between the houses across the street. Ben could see bodies moving.
Two honks from Kaholo’s truck indicated it was time to roll out.
Ben climbed into the driver ’s seat, pulled forward, and stopped just outside of the breezeway. A thump overhead indicated that Anuhea had jumped down. Ben waited for a moment while she slid off the roof of the Humvee and got inside.
Kaholo’s truck peeled out and rocketed down the driveway. The car that lobbed the Molotov cocktail at them turned right and raced away. Kaholo followed them. Ben followed Kaholo, clipping the car in the road.
“Holy shit! That was wild,” Ben said.
Anuhea whooped in the passenger seat and slapped the roof in excitement.
They raced down the road following Kaholo. Above them in the turret, Keanu fired off several short bursts. Chadwick fired out of the truck’s window at the car they chased. It didn’t look like he was aiming and the shots went wide. Keanu fired a grenade and it burst just in front of the black car.
As they sped through an intersection, Ben saw a blur racing toward Kaholo’s truck. A dark form slammed into the bed of the truck and Kaholo’s truck spun with a small blast of sparks and the squeal of tires. It turned out to be the SUV that Ty had mentioned.
Rather than slowing down, the SUV gunned the engine and pushed past the truck. Ben had to swerve to avoid hitting their friends. He clipped the back of the SUV. Then Ben turned the other way, so that the Humvee shoved the SUV with enough force that it skidded out of control and ran into a parked car.
Ben swerved, pressed the accelerator and t-boned it, pinning the SUV to the parked car. Keanu took the time to fill the SUV with 5.56mm rounds from the SAW. Ben waited for a few seconds, watching the vehicle as Keanu blasted it apart. Blood rushed through Ben’s arteries at breakneck speed. Spent brass battered against the roof of the Humvee like rain in a typhoon, a flood of casings spilling inside. The smell of gunpowder was thick in the air. No one could have survived that. Just as Ben threw the shifter into reverse with what seemed like Herculean effort and sped back toward the intersection, the SUV burst into flames engulfing the bodies inside.
“Whoa!” Ben shouted.
Anuhea was muttering something unintelligible.
Ben continued backing up and stopped beside Kaholo’s truck, to see if everyone was okay. Ben opened his door to get out and was surprised when Chadwick popped out of the window.
“We’re good, mate. Just a wee bit rattled,” Chadwick shouted.
“Good to go?” Ben asked.
Kaholo looked at him and gave him a thumbs up. Ben could see that he’d hit his head against the window. A small trail of blood ran down the side of Kaholo’s face, but he looked fine.
Ben sat down and yanked the door closed.
“Anyone hurt?” Anuhea asked him.
“Nothing major, we’re good.” Ben spun the Humvee around and followed Kaholo. The truck’s tailgate fell off and the bed was seriously crooked. The tire on the side that was hit by the SUV wobbled visibly, but the truck ran and that’s all that mattered at that point.
There was no sign of the car or any other pursuit.
Ben caught his breath and focused on driving. He left the rest to his friends, because anything more than keeping them on the road was too much. Ben’s gut twisted as he realized what had become of his life: car chases, gunfights, and zombies.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“We’re almost there,” Keanu shouted to Ben.
Satisfied that no one was following them, Kaholo was finally leading them to the Coast Guard Station. They spent who knows how much time driving a confusing, seemingly circular pattern through the small town. During their circuit of Hilo, they had seen the clusters of infected. For the most part, they avoided them. When they came across a smaller group, Ben plowed through them just to reduce their numbers.
At one point, Kaholo led them to a large parking lot and stopped. After several long minutes, Ben figured out that they weren’t waiting for the people chasing them. It dawned on him that all the driving around stirred up the infected. Anuhea pointed out that Kaholo was probably luring the infected into the parking lot, which was on the other side of town from the docks.
The clusters they passed by had coalesced into a massive crowd. Watching them stumbling toward their vehicles as they sat there waiting was terrifying. Each step they took closer to the vehicles ratcheted up the panic inside Ben.
“Under normal circumstances, I’m terrified of spiders.” Ben gulped. “After seeing this, no spider will ever frighten me again.”
Anuhea nodded and watched.
Harnessing all of his willpower, Ben waited for Kaholo to lead them away. When they finally left, close to a thousand infected had filled the shopping center’s lot marching toward them like a mob of French revolutionaries. Ben sped away without looking back, leaving them far behind.
Kaholo led them through town. Ben noticed that they were on a main road that ran along the coast. Kaholo turned and then began to slow down. Ben followed him through a gate and backed into a parking spot. They climbed out of their ride. Ben stretched and looked around. It was quiet again, eerily so. Darkness enveloped the town. Just like in the neighborhoods, the streetlights were out here.
“This way,” Keanu said as he dropped down from the roof. He groaned as he straightened up. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“Sweet parking job,” Anuhea quipped.
Ben shrugged.
“My head hurts,” a little voice said. Ben realized it was Oliver, so he went to go check on the boy even though he was already with the only person qualified to help him.
“You okay, buddy?” Ben asked softly. He knelt beside the boy.
Oliver looked at him and Ben could see the tears in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, wincing at the pain.
Ben put an arm around his little shoulders, giving him a quick hug. “Lucky for you, Charlotte can help. Did you know that she’s a nurse?”
He shook his head. “I saw her help Ty. I just thought she was nice.”
“Well, she is nice,” Ben said with a laugh. “But she also knows a lot about medical stuff. So listen to what she says and I know you’ll be all right.”
Oliver nodded.
“Get to the front door,” Kaholo said, striding toward the building. He looked back and waved at them to follow him.
“Come on, Oliver,” Ben said.
They lined up near the front door. Kaholo turned to look at them.
“It should be clear inside. I dealt with the infected last time I was here,” he said. He frowned at the memory. “Still, keep your eyes open.”
>
With that, he unlocked the front door and held it open.
“Inside now,” Kaholo said. He held his shotgun, resting it against his shoulder. Kaholo’s pose made Ben think of Frank Castle, The Punisher. It made him grin as he passed by his new friend and entered the building.
A powerful odor struck him in the face and he fought the urge to vomit. Oliver groaned.
“It smells yucky. I don’t like it here.” Oliver covered his face.
“Give me a few minutes to get what I need.” Kaholo walked through another door, moving into a back hallway separate from the waiting room they stood in.
Keanu followed his brother. “Be right back.”
“You guys come over there,” Ben said, gesturing to the others to move out of view of the doors. He knelt down and peered around the corner to keep an eye out.
Outside, the streets were empty, and other than the people chasing them, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw someone that didn’t end up joining their group. Ben pressed his lips into a frown, clenching his teeth. The idea that they were the last ones alive on the island was just too much to bear.
Of all the people on the island, he found it hard to reconcile the fact that he’d lived while others like 1LT Franco had died. What right did he have to keep breathing when other, more capable, people had fallen? He felt unworthy. The devil on his shoulder asked him what he expected. He was unworthy. It was why his father left him and mom all those years ago. His fiancée broke up with him because he was unworthy; it was why he lost his job at Black Tide, and why he’d never have a family of his own.
So, how had he survived?
Ben looked at his friends sitting in the sparsely cushioned chairs that lined the walls of the waiting room. They were the only reason he’d made it this far. He didn’t want to let them down. Ben gritted his teeth again and adjusted his grip on the rifle. He wouldn’t let his friends down. He wouldn’t abandon Oliver. He wouldn’t fail his mom, even if it was the death of him.
Ben stared out at the barren roads and let out a breath. Suddenly, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Vanessa Koehler ran like she never had before. She cut across the backyard, climbed over a short fence and came out on the next block, leaving the dead infected and the short man in her dust.
She was near an intersection. It looked so far to cross, but she didn’t slow down. Rather, she poured on all the speed she could muster and ran behind the first house on the corner.
Passing between the houses, she leapt over a white picket fence and crossed the next yard. Where was everyone? She couldn’t see anyone to ask for help.
She cursed, but continued running through the neighborhood. Vanessa kept up the pace much longer than she believed was possible. She wasn’t invincible though, the lactic acid began to build up in her calves and thighs and her breaths were coming in gasps. If she was caught and she was too winded to defend herself, her chances of survival would be nil.
As Vanessa entered another backyard, she saw a large shed. It didn’t look locked so she chanced opening the door to see if she could hide inside. It was a large plastic shed, one of the cheap from a home improvement store. At this point, anything would work as long as there was enough room for her. She had to rest to catch her breath.
Inside the shed it smelled like dried grass clippings and gasoline. It was musty and smelled slightly moldy. Nevertheless, there was room for her and that is all that mattered.
She ignored the tiny voice in her head that warned her about spiders and worms and other bugs. There was no time for nonsense like that. At that moment, Steve was dead on the kitchen floor. She didn’t want to end up like that. The look on his face…she shivered at the memory.
Light filtered in from the vents along the eaves of the shed so she was able to see what was inside. Several tools stood in the corner, so she was careful not to bump them. An old, red lawn mower took up the most space and an electric weed whacker sat in the other corner.
She closed the door behind her and crouched down, taking a knee next to the lawn mower. Closing her eyes, and saying a prayer, Vanessa focused on controlling her breath. Deep breath in, hold for a second and slowly release, in through the nose and out through the mouth. After several repetitions, her panting reduced significantly. Sweat trickled down the side of her forehead, tickling her cheek. She rubbed it away with the back of her hand and strained to hear anything outside.
These bastards were out for blood. And not just the men in suits, the infected were out there too. She needed a weapon.
A grungy cardboard box sat on the floor under a small table. A rusty saw lay atop a chaotic assortment of nails, screws, and bolts. The saw was a possibility, its rusty teeth could do some damage, but it was also wobbly and would be difficult to use effectively.
With a finger, she slowly tilted the saw out of the way to see what was underneath. The first thing she saw was a Phillips screwdriver. Although it was short, it was long enough to fuck these guys up. She smirked at it, pulled it out and pocketed it. A weapon that didn’t require her to get so close would be nice, so she continued her search. Turning around carefully on the plastic floor, she looked at the stuff leaned in the corner. She saw a hoe, a rake, a spade, and a pitchfork. Why did these people have a pitchfork? They had a beautiful yard but seriously, they weren’t spreading hay.
Oh, right. Some people used a pitchfork to aerate their lawn, she thought.
Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. Vanessa pulled it out of the corner carefully to avoid sending all the tools toppling and giving away her position.
A gun shot in the distance. She froze, holding her breath trying to figure out where it came from.
No voices, no screams. Maybe the man had shot another infected.
With a pitchfork in hand and the screwdriver in her pocket, Vanessa felt much more comfortable. The two weapons comprised a thin veil of security in this wild new world she found herself in, but it was better than bare-knuckled brawling.
She waited. And waited.
Minutes stretched on, slowly ticking by. Even in the dwindling sunlight, it was getting hot in the plastic shed. The ventilation was horrible and it stunk. She eased open the door just a crack so she could see outside. A tiny breeze slipped through the crack and brushed against her face.
She closed her eyes and just let it wash over her.
All was clear from what she could see, so she eased open the door a little more. She could see the back of the house. She stood slowly and pushed her head out peeking around the door so she could see along the side of the house. The fence and some shrubs blocked her view of the street, but the backyard was definitely empty.
She stepped out and walked toward the back of the house with the pitchfork held in front of her. If the door was open, she could hide inside and call the police. If nothing else, the police presence might scare off the attackers. No, not attackers. This wasn’t random. These were Black Tide hitmen out to kill her and Steve. They’d already scored one kill. Emotions threatened to overwhelm her as the sight of them executing Steve blurred her eyes.
The blinds on the back door and the windows were closed so she couldn’t see inside. It’d be impossible to tell if anyone was home unless they made some noise and she didn’t feel like waiting around. She felt it was too risky to smash the window and go in.
She jogged over to the edge of the house and looked out to the street. Nothing suspicious was visible from her small view of suburban America. She needed to see more, so Vanessa went to the fence at the back of the property to see what was next door. A hole in the fence gave her the perfect peephole to spy on the neighbors. When she looked through, all she could see were trees, a garden and the back of a house. She couldn’t see the street there either.
Either she risked going out onto the road in front of the house she hid behind, or climb over the fence and keep moving away from the house where Steve was murdered. Once she’d proposed
the two options to herself, she shook her head.
Not a difficult decision, she thought. Looking through the hole again to make sure the backyard was clear, Vanessa tossed the pitchfork over. It landed in the grass with a thud.
Paranoia prompted her to look again before hauling herself up and over the fence. The rough wood at the top scraped against the soft skin on the inside of her thigh through her pants. She cursed and dropped down. She picked up the pitchfork and ran over to the house.
She could see inside this house. Unlike the other one, it had no blinds or curtains on the windows. Vanessa spotted movement and dropped into a crouch, hoping she wasn’t spotted.
Other than her heavy breathing she could hear moaning from inside. It stood at the window and clawed at the glass. Vanessa crouched down and looked up at it. A middle-aged man wearing a torn t-shirt stood inside. Black fluid dripped from his mouth, down his chin and splattered on the window when he clacked his teeth.
Damn, more infected, Vanessa thought. She couldn’t believe how horrifying they were, seeing the man chilled her to the bone.
How far would the infection spread before the authorities got it under control? If they arrested the crooks at Black Tide, could they end it before it was too late? Was it already too late?
Instead of waiting around for the infected inside to move away, she duck walked to the corner of the house. If the damn thing escaped the house, she would have to use her new weapons. The thought of stabbing someone, even infected, with a pitchfork was difficult to stomach, but she really had no choice.
Moving along the edge of the house, she reached the corner and stood up. Vanessa peered around the edge, toward the front yard. A big white car sat in the driveway giving Vanessa some cover. She raced over and crouched behind it. Rising up to look over the back, she peered around.
Down the street to her right several people milled about. Their behavior and movements were odd, so she concluded that they were infected because they weren’t keeping to the sidewalks. After all, this was the kind of neighborhood where people stuck to the sidewalk, all proper and polite. She counted four, but it didn’t really matter since she wouldn’t be going that way.
