The Demented Z (Novella): Confliction
Page 4
She reached the set of exit doors. With her hand on the crash bar she hesitated momentarily, and then turned to check on the boy. He was just slinging his rifle over his shoulder and turning her way. Directly behind him were at least a dozen demented rushing down the atrium stairs. Many stumbled and fell to the carpeted floor in their haste to catch him. This only slowed them momentarily before they were back on their feet. No sooner had he moved out of the cavernous doorway than infected began pouring out of the opening into the hall directly behind him. The two groups of infected coalesced into a single giant swarm.
Abby raised her pistol, realized it was hopeless, and instead just shouted, “Hurry!” She turned, opened one of the exit doors, holding it wide for the boy to rush through. Acrid smoke from a city on fire burned her nostrils.
She used the few seconds she had to survey her surroundings and try to develop a plan. Pavement, concrete, buildings, and infected. Lots of infected. They were everywhere, staggering in the open, standing in side streets, and pounding on building doors. They owned the streets.
The boy raced through the opening at full sprint. Abby let go over the door and ran beside him.
“The river, we have to get to the river.” She shouted.
“This way.” The kid said while pulling a pistol from a holster strapped to his leg.
What is this kid, the military’s equivalent of Mensa? Instead of Harvard at twelve it was Navy Seals at thirteen. Abby didn’t care. In fact it was just the opposite. He had saved her life and what better partner could she hope to stumble upon. The infected didn’t age discriminate and she wasn’t about to either.
Even packing a massive rifle on his back, the kid was incredibly fast. Abby stretched out her stride, racing to keep up with him. Both of them flew past undead, sometimes brushing within a couple feet of their reaching arms. The risen dead were much too slow to catch them and the time required to put a bullet in them would only be a waste. The pounding of feet just yards behind them was a constant reminder that to slow was death.
Chapter 5: Destruction
Abby could see the dark water of the river just ahead. A stiff breeze whipped up white caps and blew swirling smoke between the towering downtown buildings. Scattered along the river’s banks were infected, unwilling to enter the water. The large pier had some milling about at the entrance and a half dozen walking its wooden planks.
“Boats. We need a boat.” The kid said between labored breaths.
Abby was in the best shape of her life and this mad sprint was taking its toll. Her lungs were on fire and her legs stung with lactic acid. A quick glance back proved her worst fears true. There were dozens of demented racing directly behind them, the gap of twenty feet remained as it was when they were chased out of the convention center. Every street they passed the ranks swelled with others, drawn to the chaos. The sounds this massive horde produced were absolutely terrifying. Bone chilling growls and shrieks swept out ahead of them, pushing them like wind on a sail.
The group of infected directly in front of the pier entrance noticed the surge of activity and turned in response. Their reaction was immediate. Four of them began sprinting directly toward Abby and the kid, one of them began huffing into the sky, and a half dozen others began slowly staggering their way. Infected on the dock system heard the call and began rushing across the wooden planks.
Panic nearly overtook Abby. She began to slow, unsure how they could get past so many.
“No! Keep going.” The kid shouted.
Abby sped back up, pulling even with the boy. She felt embarrassed to be the one letting the kid down and not holding up her end. She would not be the reason to pull him down.
The kid pulled his pistol up, pointing it toward the oncoming group. The barrel rose and dropped rhythmically with each step. “Hold till you can hit.” He said.
She raised her pistol as well. The iron sights bounced wildly, causing the demented to shift in and out of her target zone. They were getting scary close and the urge to begin pulling the trigger was nearly overwhelming. She began to put tension on the curved trigger. One of the hideous faces would slide in and out of her sights. She prepared to time it right.
“Hold.”
We’re going to die.
“You take right.”
They're too close. Abby wanted to cower to the ground.
Nearly simultaneously, the kid yelled, “Fire!” and his pistol boomed. The head of the nearest demented exploded in red gore. Oblivious to danger, the others never slowed.
Abby was more than ready for the call to fire. The demented were terrifyingly close and even with her barrel bouncing there was little chance of a missed shot. She pulled the trigger, hitting one of them in the shoulder. It recoiled and spun sideways, nearly tripping, but regained its balance and continued its charge. A second shot put it down for good.
Two more shots from the kid’s pistol boomed from beside her. Two more demented fell to the ground.
Abby sighted on the unmoving form of the infected barking into the sky. She squeezed the trigger and dropped him to the pavement.
“Don’t shoot walkers.” The kid shouted.
They both sprinted to the side, dodging around the slow moving forms. The nearest ones reached out, but were far too slow. All that remained between them and a boat were the infected out on the docks and a five foot tall iron gate.
Boom…Boom…
The kid’s pistol dropped the two nearest demented that were just reaching the gate.
Abby jammed her pistol into her waistband and leapt to the top of the gate. The railing hit her just below her breasts, shooting pain down her abdomen. She heaved with her arms, quickly hoisting a leg up and over the top. From the top, she saw the kid rush to the side of the pier and grab hold of the metal gate post with his free hand. He jumped out over the water, his momentum swinging him around the side like a tetherball. He gracefully landed on the far side of the gate. Without skipping a beat he raised his pistol and began firing at the remaining infected on the dock. Abby dropped to the wood behind him.
Only a couple undead remained out ahead of them. Abby turned to check behind her and was horrified to see the massive horde of demented descending on them. The churning wall of arms and legs was less than a dozen feet from the gate and coming fast.
Abby turned and began sprinting down the dock. She slapped the kid on the shoulder and yelled, “Go!”
His pistol thundered.
Only a single infected remained on the dock. The large man wore the yellow rubber apron of a fish cleaner. A green garden hose snaked through his legs, tying him to a stainless steel table.
BANG!
The horde slammed into the gate. Abby could feel the impact in her chest. She didn’t dare look back, but instead focused ahead, desperate to find a suitable boat. There were several small fishing skiffs mixed among family sport boats. Near the back she saw what she was looking for. The old fisherman’s boat looked to have hit the high seas on many occasions. Its captain’s helm towered over the deck below, commanding a view in all directions.
“The tug thing.” Abby said.
The kid didn’t respond, but instead kept sprinting ahead while angling to the far side of the dock away from Fish Cleaner.
The metal gate rattled and groaned under the pressure of hundreds.
The kid holstered his pistol as he raced up to the old boat. “Climb on.”
There was a loud crack as the gate gave way. A roar of growls signaled the dementeds’ charge. Their feet pounded on the wooden planks, shaking the entire pier.
Abby hopped over the boat’s side and looked to the captain’s chair. She dodged through the scattered fishing gear and raced up the angled ladder.
On the dock below, the kid was pulling loose the large tie-off ropes and flinging the ends into the boat. He glanced back at the oncoming horde. They were terrifyingly close. Resting both hands on the wooden side, he began leaning into the boat. It slowly began pulling away from the dock.
Grrrraaaww!
The nearest demented reached out for him. It got a grimy hand on his rifle sling just as the kid leapt for the boat. He spun sideways in midair. The rifle was ripped off his back as he slammed into the side of the boat. His feet dipped into the water. He remained on the boat’s side, clinging to the top rail with both hands. Demented began flying off the pier, desperately trying to reach the dangling meat. The boat continued to pull away from the dock, slowly being swept into the river’s current. The demented couldn’t quite cover the distance, landing in the water just below the kid. He heaved himself up and over the rail, flopping to the deck in exhaustion.
Abby looked back at the pier. It was completely covered in infected. Their numbers continued to swell, pushing those on the edges into the water. She looked at the kid below. He lay on his back, staring up at the sky. “You okay?”
“Think so.”
She turned back to the boats control panel, searching for what it took to get the thing running. Surrounding the steering wheel were buttons, gauges, and levers, but nothing that screamed “on.”
“Checking below.” She heard the kid shout.
“I don’t know how to start this thing.”
She could hear the kid working on something below. He said something. It was muffled, maybe just a groan. “What?” She said. When there was no reply, she leaned out over the railing, trying to peer through the cabin door below. A loud grunt. “What? You okay?” When there was no response her heart thundered in her chest, worry sinking into the pit of her stomach.
She spun around the railing and flew down the ladder.
More loud bangs.
She pulled her pistol out of her waistband and held it out in front of her. The cabin door hung partway open, darkness hiding the interior. She used her foot to push the door fully open. Light filtered in across a tiny table surrounded by cabinetry. On the far side was the kid. A bearded man was on top of him with his arms grabbing at the kid’s head. The kid had his forearms out, trying to keep the man from getting to him.
“Hwwellph.” The kid struggled to say with Beard’s thumb smashing across his mouth. His eyes were white with fear.
Abby took a step forward and pointed her pistol right at Beard’s head. Boom. The sound was deafening in the tiny space. The world turned to sharp ringing.
The kid, face covered in blood splatter, shoved Beard’s limp body off. “Eli.”
Abby was confused. “Huh?”
“Eli.” He said louder this time.
She smiled, nodded her head, and let out a chest full of air. “Abby.”
******
The two of them sat in a pair of captain’s chairs on the boat’s tower. They drifted slowly down the river, pushed only by the current. They looked out at the city they both once called home. Fires raged, billowing thick black smoke into the air. Sporadic gunfire echoed off the large buildings. Infected lined the water’s banks. More could be seen walking the streets in the background. It was their city now.
The End
This Concludes Novella One
Thank you for reading The Demented: Confliction. I would greatly appreciate your review on Amazon. Every little bit helps a lot. This was a companion piece to the full, unrelenting zombie series called "The Demented Z." Book 3 in the full series is expected out late Fall 2014. To keep up to date and see what is coming next, follow me at http://www.facebook.com/DerekJThomasBooks or on Goodreads.
Table of Contents
A huge thanks to my friend Brad. You inspired me to start and continually suffer through my ramblings...
Chapter 1: Zero Day
Chapter 2: Fall
Chapter 3: Run
Chapter 4: Tomb
Chapter 5: Destruction
This Concludes Novella One