Damon’s eyes snapped open, and his next shriek died on his lips. “Keith…Keith…” he breathed on stale air, while his eyes searched the room frantically, finally placing him a second later. He was staring into Chloe and Riley’s concerned face while Harper continued to pace. “Hey. What y’all staring at?”
Chloe started to speak, but was interrupted by the curly-haired marine. “Well you were screaming like a little girl, flailing your arms like this,” he waved his arms around like a wacky-waving-inflatable-arm-flailing-tube-man advertising cellphone deals.
Chloe jabbed Riley in the ribs. “Riley, please. Stop being an idiot.”
“Impossible,” Harper mumbled from the window.
Chloe shook her head and helped Damon to his feet. “It must have been a nightmare, but don’t worry you’re fine now.”
“Sorry about that. I guess this place reminds me of Keith.”
“No time to worry about that, Damon. It seems we weren’t the only ones who heard you,” Harper said, taking his eyes from the window for a second to cast a serious glance at the others.
Damon knew the look. “Shit.” He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the keys. “I guess I knew what I was doing parking the truck out back.” Chloe and Riley rushed gathering their supplies. “How many?”
“Twenty. More coming off the highway,” Harper said gruffly.
“Shit,” Damon cursed, hefting a pack over his shoulder.
“We got to go. We don’t have enough ammunition for this…not today,” Harper said, moving away from the window and towards the back room.
“Damn my fucking mouth,” Damon said, still a little groggy and a bit dizzy from his rough start. He turned to follow the rest, but saw the handsome buffalo pelt on the floor. He quickly threw it over his shoulder and disappeared into the back room.
Damon watched as Harper placed his ear to the exit door and listened. “Nothing,” he whispered.
“That’s good,” Chloe said meekly.
“Let’s take a peek.” He opened the door and stuck his head out. He motioned for them to head to the truck.
Outside the sunlight glistened against the dew stuck to Damon’s death machine. The field behind the parking lot was just mud and dead grass, but it was beautiful. No zombies shambled around looking for supple flesh to tear into. Within seconds the four of them were inside the cab. Damon steered the truck around the building into the main parking lot; he was astounded by the number of zombies that had gathered there. It seemed zombies always found Damon, but maybe all survivors felt that way? It made sense that the zombies would congregate around possible food items.
“Wow,” Chloe gasped.
“Yeah, be thankful you’re in here,” Riley said from beside her, glancing out the window.
“Right.”
Damon turned to Harper. “Can you find us a place to get some supplies so we can get back home? I’m getting sick of being out here.”
“You’re not the only one.” Harper opened the glove box and grabbed the map, spreading it out on the dash; the big man ignored the bumps and crunches of zombies falling under the wheels of the death machine.
The next town over showed more promise, which meant no zombies were found. That’s was like more it. Damon was tired of the undead citizens of Wyoming. Not like it was different anywhere else, with the exception of the safe zone. He unsnapped his seatbelt as he pulled into the parking lot of a small dollar store.
“Whoo hoo. I love these places. I can’t remember the last time I was in one,” Chloe cheered. Her fingertips were pressed against the glass of the passenger window.
“Can we keep it under control?” Damon asked with a cocked eyebrow. He slid out of the truck, wincing from his stiff back. All the driving was making his muscles ache.
The four made their way to the entrance without another word. Chloe had to restrain herself from running, which was a challenge. There was no evidence of zombies in or around the parking lot, for which Damon was thankful. He just hoped there would be some sort of supplies left in the small shop. He honestly didn’t even know what a dollar store put on their shelves besides junky toys.
He took a deep breath; the air was warmer today, he was thinking as they reached the glass door. He palmed the hilt of his machete even though he could feel it wouldn’t be needed. “Alright. Open it up, Riley, before Chloe has a heart attack.”
In a quick swoop, they cleared the building and found no zombies or survivors. Chloe disappeared, skipping happily down the aisles behind a cart, dragging Harper along. Damon watched for a second before he focused.
“Ok, dollar store. What do you have for us?” he said to himself, strolling down the aisle with Riley.
“Look at all the food. I’m surprised no one hit this place.” Riley said pulling canned goods off the shelves. Further down the aisle he could see more food items, like chips and candy.
“Well, people probably thought they wouldn’t have this kind of stuff. Lucky for us.” Damon said.
“Or there was no one left,” Riley mumbled before snatching a cart, and a single squeaking wheel sounded as he moved along.
The first cart was full in a matter of minutes and Damon left the store to load the supplies in the truck. He returned to find a cart filled with toys, books and household items stuffed in it, not bothering to ask he threw the stuff in the back of the truck. The quartet made quick work of the location, fearing the mob of zombies would somehow find them again. They relieved the store of all its food, medical supplies, and thanks to Chloe, the toy section.
“Wasn’t that fun?” Chloe asked with a smile on her face. “I couldn’t have asked for a better place. I think the kids are going to be super happy with everything we bring back.” She rambled on as Damon and Harper tarped the supplies in the bed of the truck to shield from rain.
“It was a good find,” Damon admitted as he popped open the truck door and sat in his seat.
A loud, obnoxious farting noise echoed in the cab of the truck which set Chloe and Riley into hysterics. Damon pulled a pink whoopee cushion out from under his ass and threw it at Riley. “Funny.”
Chloe wiped the tears from her eyes. “I thought so,” she said after she calmed down.
“So quick to blame me…” Riley said with a gaping smile.
“Really Riley? Like it would be anyone else.”
“True.”
“OK, let’s head for home. We’ll only stop if we see any other deserted places. There isn’t much room left in the bed. ”
Damon started the truck and pulled onto the highway, swerving around abandoned vehicles that were blackened from fire. Not bothering to stop, he continued down the road, getting closer to home.
“Not another road block,” Chloe whimpered from the back seat.
Tension ached in Damon’s shoulders, not only from the teen’s complaints, but from the sudden appearance of multiple road blocks. Instead of concrete construction barriers, this one was made of twisted and smashed up cars; sharp confetti littered the scorched pavement. Damon flipped his head to his left. “Do you think this has something to do with Hagerty?” he asked the marines, steering around the wreckage to take yet another detour.
Harper shook his head. “No, that just looks like bad luck.”
“Yeah, just a nasty car crash, my friend,” Riley added.
Harper unfolded the map for the hundredth time. “Well, this is going to take us out of our way.”
“No shit,” Damon griped, ‘’More lost time.” He bowed his head to give an exasperated sigh. His eyes caught sight of the fuel gauge hovering close to empty, a loud groan escaped his lips. “We need more fuel.”
“I’m sure we’ll find something that has gas,” Chloe attempted to cheer him up, but it was looking like Damon was going to be in a sour mood regardless.
Another groan.
Riley looked up from his zombie book and glanced at the back of Damon’s head. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Oh cram it Riley
,” Damon hissed, “I’m not in the mood for one of your goddamn jokes.”
Riley sat back in his seat with a button lip, and his stark blue eyes glanced out the window then back to the cloth seat. Chloe gave his arm a reassuring pat and a smile. Once again their gazes passed out the windows watching the mountains pass in the distance.
chapter 4
The exit they had taken led them onto a two lane highway into a deep wilderness, complete with mature cottonwoods reaching near a hundred feet towering over them. Damon’s stomach started to turn in knots with the road as they took another winding left, then right, the tires under him rumbling rhythmically as they went along. Even though he never outright questioned Harper’s map reading skills, today he may have. Something the mechanic knew he didn’t trust was the accuracy of his gas gauge. At least it is still early in the day, Damon thought to himself as the truck hummed down the never ending path.
“What’s that up ahead?” Damon asked, leaning over the steering wheel. There was a miniscule blue sign on his right showing an even tinier white gas pump silhouette.
“Looks like your prayers were answered.” Harper said, setting the map down for a moment.
Damon cracked a slim smile. “Never doubted you for a second.” Not.
“See and you were worried,” Riley said.
“Oh Riley,” Chloe said this time.
Damon ignored him and eased on the brake, pulling into the bumpy gravel parking lot. His sharp eyes spied a zombie teetering between the pair of pumps, while another stared at the clouds, mouth open as if praying for rain. Harper pointed out two more wading in hip high grass just to the left of the station.
“Just so you guys know, I’m out of ammo,” Riley reminded before the vehicle rolled to a stop. “Now I wish I would have brought the crossbow.”
“Well I guess you better grab one of those baseball bats back there then,” Damon suggested in the rear-view, his mood still hadn’t lifted.
“Hope you are better with that, than you are with your rifle,” Harper joked dryly.
“I’ll be OK, I’m sure. Better if Damon hadn’t chopped off my hand, but I’ll manage,” Riley said sarcastically.
“He didn’t want you to turn into a zombie, dummy,” Chloe said while she helped Riley locate the bat under the seat.
Damon stopped about four truck lengths away from the nearest zombie giving them the advantage, and nothing had a chance to surprise them. In unison the four of them filed out of the death machine, and into action. Damon struck first with his machete, cleaving the frontal lobe of one zombie’s brain in two. An arrow whizzed past his ear and into the head of one that wobbled their way from around the station. When he got the chance he risked a glance to see how Riley was doing with the bat, apprehension gathered at his shoulders. The tall marine was wielding the aluminum bat like a pro, striking the withered husk of an old man, knocking it to the ground, quickly finishing the sad thing off.
Harper hissed a curse when he used the last round in his rifle, but quickly strung it across his back and moved to using his side arm. The big man put down the unwitting zombie stuck in the gas pumps, legs trapped in rubber hoses, like a python’s unsuspecting meal.
In less than an instant the battle was over. The four regrouped, walking as one unit towards the door to the station. Harper walked to Damon’s right, next to the edge of the building. They passed the rough exterior, then the cloudy windowpane, and stopped by the front door.
Something crashed, Damon’s skin prickled from sudden adrenaline, and in a flash the double doors exploded open, catching all of them off-guard. Harper was hit with such force it knocked the big man to the ground, gravel dust kicked up as he landed. An enormous zombie, nearly his size, had attacked and was on top of the marine attempting to take out his throat. Harper’s pistol bounced across the pavement, landing out of reach and out of sight from the others.
“Kill it!” Chloe screamed.
Damon’s shoulder tensed and flexed as he analyzed the situation. “I can’t! I might hit Harper.”
Riley bounced back and forth on anxious feet, the bat clenched in his fist. His comrade lost another inch, teeth came closer to his neck—POUNCE.
“Riley no!”
The curly-haired marine didn’t listen as he launched himself at the thing, waylaying the behemoth with fierce blows to the back in hopes of distracting it long enough for Harper to maneuver from underneath it. The thing growled viciously, but continued its attack on the big marine, his arm wedged tightly under its chin keeping the snapping teeth at bay while its grotesque fingernails clawed the pavement beside his head.
Harper kicked up hard with his right foot connecting with its chest, making the zombie’s weight shift. He took the chance to get his footing and scrambled to his feet.
“Careful man!” Riley called, swinging the bat in his hand, ready for the thing to take a run at him. “That thing’s a sprinter!”
They coined the name sprinter back when they were first developing the safe zone, describing the way that certain zombies moved. A majority of zombies fit into the Shambler category, which moved sluggishly, as if their limbs were weighed down by sandbags. The others fell into the more dangerous one category…Sprinters. These types were swift and agile, with the ability to run, and the group had noticed that people who died in the best shape were more likely to become sprinters. Thankfully, neither of which had developed nor retained the ability to climb, jump or swim.
“Right!” Harper shouted, he had made the discovery long before Riley pointed it out to him, but he didn’t have time to debate it. He eyed his opponent before striking again with a thunderous kick to the head.
The behemoth got to its feet faster than Harper anticipated, displaying the agility of a sprinter. Its eyes were fixed on Harper, intent on devouring him.
“Yeah big fella,” Harper taunted, attempting to keep its attention on him, “Bring that ugly mug over here.”
He waved the thing to him, welcoming an attack. It let out a deep growl that made Chloe’s skin crawl; she would have screamed if Damon hadn’t planted his hand over her mouth.
When it lunged, Harper dodged in a swift dive to the left, letting the thing slam into the gas pumps. Before it could right itself he attacked. The big marine grabbed it by the temples and jerked its head to the right with all his strength, severing the spinal cord in an instant. He heard a snap, and then the hulking zombie fell limp against the pump, mouth open to catch wandering flies.
“Bad ass!” Riley said, hopping over to the scene. He lifted his hand for a high five.
Harper ignored it, leaving the tall marine hanging. He had seen something much more interesting than a high five.
Riley clapped his hand with his nub. “That’s OK. I got it.”
Chloe chuckled, her freckles bounced on her cheeks.
“Not now Riley. Damon, look at this.” Harper motioned for them to come over, Riley peered over Damon and Chloe’s back since he was taller.
“What the?” Damon breathed.
The zombie had wires stuck into its skull, like it had undergone some pyscho’s sick EEG. Damon dared to touch a blue wire that hung oddly from its left temple, and with two thick fingers he tugged. The wire held fast as if it were screwed into the skull.
“OK, that’s strange.” Riley tried yanking a red one, tearing a chunk of flesh off, “And I know strange.”
Chloe leaned in closer, but passed on touching the freak show. “Maybe he was in the hospital or something when he turned.”
Damon disagreed, “This one looks freshly turned, and look at his clothes.”
“You saw it. The thing was a sprinter,” Riley said, attempting to put back the hunk of meat he had torn off. The blob of flesh landed on the pavement with a slight splat.
“We’ve lingered here long enough. Let’s get the fuel, check the station and leave,” Harper mumbled, involuntarily brushing off his shirt and turned away. “I’ll leave you and Riley to figure out how to get the gas.” He snappe
d his head towards the building, motioning for Chloe to follow him inside.
“Yeah thanks. I’m sure it’s not going to be as easy as just turning on the pump,” Damon moaned. He really didn’t mean to sound like a little kid.
“Now you know why I am going this way,” Harper laughed without turning around.
Damon sheathed his machete and went to work, instructing Riley to find some hose and went to inspect the pump. As expected, the thing didn’t work. With no luck, he went to track down some cans to fill. He hoped the well hadn’t dried up or already been syphoned by someone else. The sun shone bright against Damon’s shoulders in his white T-shirt while he lugged four cans from the bed, and went into the station to get more. The warmth was welcoming against his sore muscles.
From light to dark he appeared in the small building to see Harper and Chloe squatted over a body of some kind. Once his eyes adjusted to the dusky darkness filtering through the open door, he moved further in.
Harper heard him coming and stood up. His massive form loomed over Damon as he looked down on their find. Damon stood over the body of a moderately decomposed body of a female zombie. He assumed it was female by the soiled dark blue sundress it wore. Graying skin stretched over the bones of its bear arms and chest, rotting ulcers pitted the skin and squirmed with fresh maggots. The top of the skull had been removed, revealing a dingy brain. A closer look realized it had been cut with surgical precision.
Batting away the endless swarm of flies, Damon examined the other two motionless forms on the floor. “What happened to these zombies?” he asked, knowing that none of them had the answer.
“I don’t know, but look over here.” Harper showed Damon something else. “We found them pawing at the wall.”
“Yeah, like they were trying to go somewhere,” Chloe added, bushing fallen blond strands away from her freckled cheeks. Her green eyes flicked across the bloody scratch marks against the old drywall, suddenly finding the station too cold, she saddled closer to Damon.
Damon accepted her, also finding these zombies more disturbing than usual. His head swiveled around, scanning the small interior; shelves were tossed to the floor spilling their contents everywhere. From the look of it, the zombies had stomped over every single piece. “Not sure if you guys are going to find anything, but look while me and Riley finish filling the tanks. I wanna be away from this as soon as possible.”
The Beginning of the End Page 4
