The Tide (Tide Series Book 1)

by Melchiorri, Anthony J

  “You’re okay, girl,” Kara said as she cleaned the wound on Bethany’s cheek again. It seemed some sort of infection had taken hold. On any other day, she would take her mother to the hospital immediately to prevent sepsis or gangrene. Her basic first aid skills weren’t enough to treat such a persistent infection.

  Given the state of their neighborhood, no trip to the hospital was possible. The best she could do for her mother was continue to apply the topical antibiotics and replace the bandages.

  Kara brushed her mother’s matted hair from her face. Sweat beaded across her forehead.

  “Mom, can you hear me?”

  Her mother stared ahead vacantly, uncomprehending. Downstairs, Sadie was keeping watch with the Weavers. Kara was glad her sister wasn’t here to see their mother’s deteriorating condition. Even Maggie seemed to sense something was wrong.

  When Kara left her mother and walked to the hall again, Maggie followed. Her tail wagged and tongue lolled. She appeared happy to leave Bethany’s side.

  That was strange. The golden retriever usually followed Bethany everywhere. When Bethany cooked, Maggie plopped herself right in the middle of the kitchen. The lovable, loyal dog was a hazard to anyone too wrapped up in preparing a meal or setting the table to look down. More than once, Bethany had almost dropped a pan full of noodles when she took one step backward into Maggie’s furry body.

  Kara reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “You worried about mommy, too?”

  The dog closed her eyes and leaned into Kara’s fingers. A pungent odor caught Kara’s nostrils, and she said, “Let’s go, Maggie.” Kara ushered the dog down the stairs and away from the second floor.

  With Joe’s help, she’d lugged the bodies of the dead crazies into their laundry room, one door past her childhood bedroom. She still couldn’t believe this was happening, that these things had once been her neighbors and friends. They’d draped a sheet over the corpses, but she’d recognized every face. And the thin material couldn’t conceal the growing stench.

  Kara went down the stairs and entered the living room, escaping the odors of decay on the second floor. Zack was lying on the loveseat with a stuffed Yoda Sadie had given him, and Leah was on the couch with her teddy bear. Both were wrapped in blankets, but neither appeared to be sleeping, despite their mother’s best efforts. Nina sat in an easy chair near them with a shotgun at her side.

  A howl pierced the night. This time, no others joined it, and the sound faded.

  “Do you all want something to eat?” Kara asked. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast at her dorm’s cafeteria yesterday.

  “Good idea,” Nina said. “Need any help?”

  Zack’s eyes bulged when his mother stood. “Don’t leave us.”

  “Go ahead and stay with them,” Kara said. “I’m fine on my own.”

  In the kitchen, she took a couple of cans of soup and dumped them into a pot. She rummaged through a drawer and found a matchbook. From past experience, she knew even when the power was out, the gas still ran to their stove. A twist of the knob and a struck match later, controlled blue flames circled the burner.

  She shuddered at the reminder of the smoldering remains of the Weavers’ home. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she continued heating the soup. It was simple, but she doubted any of their stomachs could handle anything more than vegetables in a beef broth.

  The salty scent of the canned soup floated through the kitchen as it boiled. She reduced the heat, and her stomach rumbled. Footsteps came from the hall and into the kitchen.

  “Soup’s just about ready. You can grab a—” She turned and dropped the ladle. “Mom?”

  Bethany stood in the kitchen entrance. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin pale.

  Kara took a step forward. “Are you feeling better? Are you hungry?”

  Instead of answering, Bethany scrunched her nose into a snarl. She rushed at Kara like a hungry wolf.

  Instinctively, Kara jumped away. Bethany slammed into the stove. Scalding soup spilled over her as she caught herself on the hot burner. A sizzling sound and the smell of burning skin reached Kara. Bethany turned, her eyes bulging and teeth gnashing. She lunged again.

  Kara backed up against the island counter and scrambled backward over it. “Mom! Stop!”

  Clumsily, Bethany rounded the island. Kara put the kitchen table and chairs between herself and her mother.

  “What’s the—” Joe stopped in the entrance to the kitchen, Sadie peeking from behind his bulky frame. “Bethany?”

  Bethany twisted to face him. She ran, hands outstretched.

  Frozen and confused, Joe tumbled backward with Bethany atop him. He grabbed her wrists and held her back. “Mom! Stop!” Sadie called, her face red and her eyes watery. “Mom!”

  Kara dove at her mother and wrapped her arms around her in a bear hug. She pressed Bethany’s arms to her sides as Joe squeezed out from beneath her.

  A deafening, blood-curdling scream escaped Bethany. She squirmed in Kara’s grip. With a sudden jolt, Bethany slammed her head back against Kara’s. Blood filled Kara’s mouth as she bit down on her tongue. Pain radiated through her jaw, and she staggered backward.

  “Kara! Watch out!” Joe cried.

  Bethany shoved Kara down, and her head smacked against the floor.

  With a hand cocked back, Bethany prepared to maul her daughter. Kara tried to struggle out from under her mother’s body, but her weight was too much. She winced as Bethany’s hand swung at her.

  Then the weight disappeared. Her mother flew against the wall. Maggie growled, her mouth around Bethany’s wrist. The hair on Maggie’s haunches stood straight as the retriever shook her head. Bethany howled and threw the dog across the kitchen. Maggie hit the counter and fell to the floor with a yelp.

  Torn flesh drooped from Bethany’s wrist, and blood seeped from the wound. Her face contorted in rage, and she came after Kara again. Kara grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and threw it between herself and her mother. Bethany batted it aside.

  “Stop, Mom. It’s me! Kara, your daughter.”

  Bethany scrambled over another fallen chair. Her muscles tensed, and she charged without even a second of hesitation.

  With a sidestep, Kara dodged. Bethany smashed against the wall, and a framed picture of her with her daughters fell and crashed to the floor. Sadie screamed. Then the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped broke through Sadie’s frightened cries. Joe was aiming the gun at Bethany.

  “No,” Kara screamed. Logic yelled that this wasn’t her mother; this was one of the crazies. The same as those she’d seen cannibalize fleeing victims on the highways. They’d tried to kill her and the Weavers. They’d almost killed her sister.

  Yet this was her mother. Kara couldn’t let her die.

  Closing one eye, Joe started to squeeze the trigger. Kara tackled him. The gun barrel pointed to the ceiling, and its blast resounded in the kitchen. Dust and drywall rained down.

  “Sadie, open the basement door!” Kara yelled.

  Her sister sobbed but made no move to help. Nina pushed her aside and did as Kara said. When Bethany came in for another attack, Kara danced to the side and grabbed her mother’s collar. She threw Bethany down the basement stairs, her limbs and head crashing until her body crumpled to the concrete floor below.

  Kara slammed the door shut as Bethany, bloodied and bruised, righted herself and started to climb. With a metallic click, Kara secured the pin lock above the door.

  “The kitchen table!” Kara shouted.

  Joe understood immediately and dashed into the kitchen.

  Already, her mother’s frustrated cries emanated under the door. Joe grunted and turned the kitchen table on its side. He slid it in front of the basement door. Nina grabbed the chairs and used them to brace the table. When they finished, Nina wrapped her arms around Sadie. Her children ran to her, joining the huddle.

  Kara clenched her jaw and dashed to Maggie’s side. The dog’s ribs expande
d and deflated in a slow rhythm. Her tail thumped the floor when Kara knelt by her. Maggie turned her head and pressed her wet snout into Kara’s open palm. The dog twisted her body to get up but fell back. She whined.

  “What’s wrong, girl?” Kara asked. A wet sheen formed over her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

  Then she saw Maggie’s paw. Her front leg was twisted unnaturally. Nausea gripped Kara. She clasped a hand over her mouth and gagged.

  “I’m sorry, Kara.” Joe put a hand on her shoulder. “I—”

  Kara brushed his hand off, anger flooding her. He’d tried to kill her mother. God, when would this nightmare end? Where was her father? And what the hell was going on with the world?

  The sounds from the basement intensified. Nina’s children still sobbed, and Joe tried to blubber another apology.

  Anger, despair, fear—everything crashed together in Kara. Her limbs shook, and she felt ready to collapse. She took a moment to gather herself, forcing herself to breathe slowly.

  She recalled a time when she’d come home from junior high school, bullied once again for being a tomboy. Her interest in hunting and the outdoors made the prim and proper girls look at her with contempt. The boys avoided her, calling her a butch. To add to the usual insults, she’d failed a test she hadn’t studied for. She’d been too distracted by her peers’ verbal abuse to remember it was even coming up. She’d also found out she’d been bumped from her varsity spot on the cross-country team. Just everyday adolescent problems, but it had felt like the end of the world at the time.

  Her father had come into her room as she screamed into her pillow. He’d placed one heavy hand on her back and waited for her to calm. She’d unloaded every fear, every complaint, every problem at him.

  “How do I fix it all?” she’d asked.

  “If you try to tackle everything at once, you’ll be overwhelmed.” He had looked at her, his eyes dark and serious, his hands on her thin shoulders. “One problem at a time, Kara. Just fix one problem at a time.”

  Her mother’s wailing brought her back to reality. Kara steeled herself and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. Maggie tried to stand again.

  “No!” Kara pointed at the dog. “Stay!”

  Maggie whined.

  “Keep her there,” Kara said to Joe.

  The large man, certainly no less than two hundred twenty, maybe two hundred thirty pounds, looked like a scolded child. He crouched by Maggie and rested a meaty hand on her head. He stroked the back of her neck awkwardly, as if he hadn’t ever touched a dog.

  Hell, maybe he hadn’t.

  Kara turned off the still-flaming stove burner. She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a wooden mixing spoon. From another drawer, she chose a clean washcloth. She scoured one of the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a plastic bottle rattling with ibuprofen pills.

  “Kara, I’m—” Joe began again.

  “Please, just keep Maggie still,” Kara said. “One thing at a time.”

  She glanced at the dog and estimated the appropriate dose of pain reliever to give her. She crushed a couple pills, dissolved them in a small bit of water, and mixed in sugar to mask the bitterness. With an eyedropper, she drew up the solution and brought it to Maggie.

  “Here, girl. Drink up.” She cradled Maggie’s head as she squeezed the medicine into the dog’s mouth. Maggie instinctively choked down the concoction. It wouldn’t be as good as morphine, but it would be better than nothing.

  Kara placed the wooden mixing spoon next to Maggie’s broken front leg. She sized it up and sawed off an appropriate length with a steak knife.

  “Don’t let her up,” Kara said again to Joe. She left for the desk in the dining room, where her mom had set up a makeshift office area. Rummaging through the drawers of the desk, she found a roll of duct tape.

  Once again, Kara took a deep breath and knelt by Maggie’s side. Her supplies lay in front of her: the tape, dishcloth, and handle cut from the wooden spoon. Everything she needed for an emergency splint.

  “She’s going to whine, she’s going to yelp, she’s going to growl, and she’ll probably try to tear our faces off,” Kara warned, “but do not let her move. Keep one hand tight around her muzzle and the other around her head.” She glanced at the hall, where Nina and the children were still gathered. “Nina or Sadie, I’m going to need one of you to help.”

  Nina nodded and began to leave her children’s side, but Sadie stepped forward. “I’ll do it.” Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she was no longer crying. She knelt by Kara, and Kara showed her where to keep her hands on Maggie’s haunches to hold her secure.

  “Ready?” Kara asked.

  Both Joe and Sadie nodded. Kara had always wanted to be a vet, but she wouldn’t start veterinary school until she finished her undergraduate degree. She possessed no formal training other than the books she’d read for fun on animal husbandry and medicine. She wasn’t ready to put her knowledge into practice, but now she had no choice.

  Biting her bottom lip and willing all the determination she could muster, she straightened Maggie’s broken limb. The dog yelped, and her feet kicked. Joe and Sadie strained to hold her still.

  Kara worked quickly to secure the wooden spoon and wrap the washcloth tight around the injury. The duct tape made a ripping sound as she unwound it from the roll. As swiftly as she could, she tightened the silver tape up the length of the washcloth.

  Maggie growled and tried to snap as Kara tightened the splint. Joe’s arm shook, but he held her down. Kara cut the last piece of tape, secured it, and leaned back.

  “Done,” she said. “You can let her go.”

  Joe shuffled back, avoiding any biting reprisal from Maggie. But the dog still lay on her side. Her tongue lolled from her mouth. She panted, exhausted by the pain.

  Maggie’s eyes closed as Kara ran her hands through the wavy reddish gold fur along the retriever’s shoulder blades. “You’re a good girl. A very good girl.”

  One thing at a time.

  Scratching sounded at the basement door, but Kara ignored it. She cleaned up the spilled soup with Sadie’s help.

  Joe stood at the end of the island, his eyes down and his hands at his side. “Kara, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, and his gaze met hers. “I didn’t mean...Bethany is my friend, but...”

  Sadie appeared ready to break down again, and Kara slid her fingers into her sister’s.

  “But she isn’t your mother anymore,” Joe continued. “She tried to kill you. Tried to kill me. I had to do it.”

  “She’ll always be my mother. Our mother.” Kara could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she willed the anger to subside. It was impossible to ignore. In her mind, she knew he was right, but she couldn’t bring herself to forgive him or to allow the possibility that her mother might be one of them.

  “I know, but—”

  “Please, just stop,” Kara said. Sadie interlaced her fingers tighter with Kara’s. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She turned back to the stove. Somehow, her stomach still rumbled. She needed something to distract herself and occupy her mind. A second attempt at a meal would do that.

  Through the slits in the blinds, yellow sunlight pierced the room. She twisted the plastic rod on the blinds to open them slightly enough to peek out of. More warm, glowing light flooded in from the rising sun. It instilled a sense of comfort among the confusion. She wasn’t so dense as to think the coming day would chase away the crazies and magically fix all that had transpired. But at least she could see clearly again.

  Her heart caught in her throat.

  She could see too clearly.

  Through her backyard, a pack of crazies swarmed. Their bodies distorted as they scanned for any sign of prey; their ears perked, noses sniffing. There were at least a dozen in her backyard alone. She noticed long talons growing from the fingers of some and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the more she stared at them, the more she was mesmerized by the
strange bony growths protruding from their shoulders and spikes hooking from their joints. These people were turning into goddamned monsters. This was no illusion, no hallucination.

  This was reality now.

  Kara closed the blinds again, using up all her self-control to prevent herself from falling apart at the dark visage of twisted, skeletal humanoids. “Everybody stay away from the windows,” she said in a low, trenchant tone. “Joe, Nina, Sadie. Keep your weapons by your side.”

  “What is it?” Nina asked.

  “More of them,” Kara said. “So many.”

  She scrounged in her pockets for any remaining shells. Only a handful. A couple of boxes she’d retrieved earlier sat in the living room, but she wondered if it would be enough should the crazies rout them out.

  Another guttural shriek escaped from the basement door. Between Kara and the ammunition in the basement waited her enraged mother.

  She repeated her father’s mantra: One thing at a time.

  -27-

  The heavy beat of the blades and the roar of the helicopter’s twin engines kept a steady rhythm as they crossed Maryland. Heavy plumes of smoke rose up from the urban sprawl surrounding Baltimore. Westward, the lush green of trees across rolling hills stretched beneath them.

  Frank’s smooth voice came over the comm link set in Dom’s helmet. “We’re about fifteen minutes out from Detrick and just under ten from our destination in Frederick.”

  “Copy that,” Dom replied. He waved to get Adam’s attention. “Still nothing from Webb?”

  “Not yet.”

  Dom’s heart sank, but he resolved not to show any outward sign of his dismay. The last time he’d made contact with Meredith was when she’d called from a bus depot. She’d reported the calamity at Fort Detrick, and they’d agreed to convene at his family’s—now his ex-wife’s—home. She’d insisted on honoring her vow to protect his daughters. Setting a rendezvous point in familiar territory also gave them a strategic advantage in a city overcome by Skulls.

  At least, that was the idea.

  The chopper began its descent, and the familiar winding streets and patchwork of colorful houses rose toward them.