The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  We’ll find out soon enough.

  The church had a set of generators, but only a limited amount of gas to run the units. He figured they could keep the lights on for a solid three weeks without searching for more juice, but once all of the tanks went dry, it was back to the stone ages for everyone.

  Blaine looked up at the mirror above his head. He zeroed in on the tiny little bullet hole that sat a foot from his skull. It was a decent reminder of how lucky he had been on this trip. He shifted his sights to Dallas. His features were flat, distant and mournful. He’d seen death up close and personal too often to be okay.

  It’s going to be difficult to keep him from drowning in a bottle this week.

  He made a few turns and zigged past a pile up of dead vehicles and a small pack of infected. Twenty-four hours of mayhem and Vancouver looked like a ghost town. It felt abandoned and left to rot. Blaine had watched a TV show about what happens to cities after all of the people are gone. Decay sets in quickly as plant life takes back the streets. Wild fires will burn down homes and commercial buildings until there is nothing left but rusted steel frames jutting from the earth. Blaine prayed that wouldn’t be the case for Vancouver.

  There has to be a cure, right?

  Mankind can’t have made it tens of thousands of years just to be taken out by one horrible plague.

  Blaine shook it off. There was no sense in worrying about the fate of mankind now. He had to stay sharp, get Eric and race back home before anything terrible happened to their team. He checked the street signs to get his bearings.

  “We’re close. Less than a mile out, I’d guess.” Blaine hoped the good news would lift their spirits.

  Lord knows they needed it.

  Charlie dragged a handful of wipes over every inch of exposed flesh.

  Theo’s lip snarled, “Was it literally a blood bath in there?”

  Charlie tossed the red colored wipes to the floor and grabbed a few more from the container. “There was a really bad room.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was gruesome, brother?”

  “You know what, I don’t want to hear about it. I’m already going to have nightmares.” Theo cleared his throat and looked away. He couldn’t stand another minute of gawking at all the blood on Charlie.

  “I hope they get the shower system set up by the time we get back, I’m gonna need a hot one.” He got all of the red off his skin, then he went to work cleaning his gun.

  The bus passed an elementary school. The front door was smashed in by a minivan and bodies littered the grounds. A gang of little ones raced from the building and out onto the front lawn. At first Theo thought they were normal kids heading for the bus to take them home.

  “Check out the school,” he said as he sat forward and took a closer look.

  Everyone glanced and their hearts were broken by the sight.

  “That’s too much,” said Shawna as she turned to face the other direction.

  Seeing those chewed up and spit out children hit Dallas hard. His hands began to twitch. He wanted to break something, anything.

  Blaine made another turn and the school disappeared in the rearview mirror.

  Theo spoke rapid fire and gabbed to fill the silence, “You remember as kids when the school would run fire and earthquake drills? The alarm would blast our eardrums. The teacher would tell you to leave your backpack and jacket behind. You’d be standing out in the cold and the rain forever. When I was really young I would get so scared and worked up. I’d start crying and wouldn’t want to go back inside. I was just sure the place was going to burn down or an earthquake would level the building, but not once was there ever a real emergency. All those drills they must have done and it didn’t help save a single one of them.”

  The bus headed into a neighborhood and each house had some kind of visual sign that an infected had been there. Blood smears, busted front doors hung open, feasted upon corpses and abandoned vehicles were in every direction.

  Blaine rounded one more corner and saw a police cruiser. Its back wheels were stacked up on a pile of bodies. It was covered in black fluid and both the hood and trunk were completely caved in. The whole street was covered in body parts and crushed torsos. It looked like someone had driven the cop car through a parade of infected. Blaine scratched at the stubble on his chin and questioned why someone would waste a Dodge Charger to take out a couple hundred infected. It seemed like a really dumb and risky move, but all of the doors were open so someone must have made it out of that deathtrap.

  Theo’s leg bounced up and down. He was young and hadn’t seen much of the world. His youth and inexperience was getting the better of him and his emotions were running out of control. The school had been too much and he blabbed. “I can’t imagine having children at a time like this, man. It’s gonna be difficult to take care of myself. A child would be impossible and anyone that has a kid is just more likely to die and that’s a fact. The kids at the church might be okay, but anyone out here in the open like this is a goner.”

  Dallas came unglued and in the blink of an eye he spun out of his seat and lunged at Theo. He grabbed the young man by the throat and tossed him to the aisle. “Shut up! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Dallas climbed on top of him, reared back and threw a punch at Theo’s jaw. It landed with a tremendous wet smack.

  Charlie leapt onto Dallas’ back and looped his slender arms around the big man’s twenty inch pythons to keep him from throwing another punch. “Cut it out man, we’re on the same team!”

  Dallas easily broke free and landed a haymaker on the side of Theo’s face. A glob of spit and blood splattered across the black floor.

  Shawna shouted. “Let him go!”

  Dallas raised his fist and was about to land the knockout blow when Blaine stomped the brakes. The bus grinded to a sudden stop and it caused Dallas to lose his balance. He fell backwards and knocked the air out of Charlie’s lungs.

  “Guys, knock it off! We’re here!” Blaine glared through the windshield. Straight ahead of them was a house. It was surrounded by infected and in the front yard sat Ranger Two’s black pickup. Standing on the roof was a group of people, armed with only homemade spears.

  Chapter 21

  Brother Paul reached for Dana as she dropped to her butt. The infected had a tight grip on Dana’s ankle and was drawing the flailing woman closer to its snapping teeth. Dana howled to the sky as the color drained from her mortified face. She crashed to the roof of the command bus with her hands wrapped around her calf where the chunk of meat was missing. Blood squirted through her interlaced fingers. Paul kicked at the infected’s head as if he was scoring a game winning field goal.

  The beast’s skull launched back with such force its body arced through the air as it plummeted to the earth with the ladder. Paul emptied his mag into the infected woman’s face, dropped his rifle and went to Dana’s side.

  “You’re okay!” Paul whipped off his belt and wrapped it around her leg. “Doctor Bryant!” Paul screamed across the field as he secured the tourniquet just below her knee. She reached for his hands and drew them near her chest. They were slick with warm blood and her grip was like a vice.

  “You keep them safe.” Dana’s breaths were shallow and sharp. Her skull nodded at a quick pace. “Promise me you’ll keep them all safe.”

  “I swear it.”

  The ladder was lifted off the corpse and set against the command bus.

  “Stay with me. I’ll get you to the Doctor. She’ll know what to do.”

  “You know once you’re bitten-”

  Paul didn’t let her finish. He heaved Dana into the air. He set her on his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. It took every ounce of strength Paul had to balance himself on one foot while he stretched to get his boot on the ladder. The muscles in his back screamed for mercy and the joints in his legs begged for relief as he slowly carried her to the field.

  A hush fell over the people on the battlefield as they watched thei
r leader struggle to get Dana off the bus and onto solid ground. The ladder rattled and strained under the weight of the two adults. He was halfway down and about to lose his footing.

  Paul began to pray. “Lord, give me strength!” He repeated the prayer again and again, turning it into a chant.

  His legs felt like Jell-O when his boots hit the grass, but he didn’t give up or set her down. Paul readjusted Dana on his shoulder and took off in a sprint for the back of the church.

  “Doctor Bryant!” His call for help was strained. Dana’s weight put too much pressure on his lungs and he couldn’t yell at full volume.

  Paul had read the reports and even seen firsthand what happened when a person got bit. He knew he was carrying a dead woman, but he didn’t care. He was going to do everything in his power to save her. He would make a deal with the devil if it meant sparing her life. He cared for Dana so deeply, but never had the guts to tell her exactly how he felt. Paul remembered the exact moment when he realized his true feelings for her.

  It was mid-July and the church was doing their annual summer barbeque. It had only been a year since Dana’s family was taken from her and she hadn’t had many reasons to laugh out loud. Dana was in charge of the children’s sack race and she was working with a group of four-year-olds. Paul sat at a picnic bench, eating a plate of food and watched Dana try her best to get the kids properly lined up and ready to hop toward the finish line. The children wouldn’t listen and were jumping the gun, then she would have to reset them.

  After four false starts Dana finally got the kids lined up and blew the whistle for them to race. The little ones hopped their hearts out. Halfway through the rally the leader fell to the ground and took out all of his competitors. The pile up of laughing preschoolers triggered something in her that got Dana cackling. The sweet sound of her laughter carried on the warm summer breeze and Paul was so taken by her strength and resilience that he couldn’t help but fall for her. Dana’s life had been ripped to pieces. She had every reason to give up and quit, yet she found the will to keep going and the desire to face the next day. The power she displayed to take what life had given her and forge ahead inspired Paul. He fell deeply in love with her, but the fear of what the others would think kept him from sharing his sentiment. Now that her time was coming to an end, he realized how ridiculous he had been.

  The hole in the back of Dana’s calf burned as if someone had branded her. Never had she experienced pain like this before. The agony of her wound was all-encompassing. She could feel the disease coursing through her veins and with every beat of her heart the poison crept closer to her brain. Dana’s dream of being carried off by Brother Paul was coming true, but under the worst possible circumstance.

  Dana’s fate tasted bitter in her mouth. She had so many regrets and unfulfilled wishes. She worried about the church and what would happen to them when she was gone.

  Who would be in charge and keep everyone in order?

  All that remained of her Grandmother’s Monster cookie recipe was spilled across the kitchen floor and the secret ingredients were about to die with her.

  She would never get to see another sunset or feel the rain on her face. Dana would never again taste ice cream or sing in her shower. Life had been too short and she never accomplished her dreams. She wanted to write a novel, see all fifty states, dance the hula on a Hawaiian beach, stand on the Eiffel Tower, touch an Egyptian pyramid and make passionate love one last time. Realizing how much she had left to do on this Earth caused Dana to get furious. Anger grew and filled her heart.

  How could God take so much from me?

  In the seconds it took Paul to carry her toward the church she became outraged. They were all questions she had asked God before, but this time she had been pushed too far and she wanted some goddamn answers.

  Why me?

  Why did you take my family?

  Why are you taking me now when the church needs me more than ever?

  Paul carried her into the building and laid her on a gurney. Tears streamed down the sides of her face. The crying wasn’t from the crippling pain she felt at the back of her leg. It was from pure hate.

  How can you be so cruel?

  Don’t you love me God?

  There was noise all around her but she could no longer make out Paul or Lindsey’s words. Her heart pounded and every muscle in her body went tense. It felt like her brain was boiling. Death was near. She inched toward her demise. At the last moment Dana managed one more calm thought.

  I’ll get to be with my boys.

  She could hear Pastor Michael, but it sounded like he was speaking Latin. She tried to pry open her eyes and see Brother Paul, but her vision had gone from gray to black.

  Michael hadn’t witnessed anyone turning yet and it was like watching someone get possessed by a demon. Doctor Bryan cut away the back of Dana’s jeans and exposed the bite mark. It was festered and full of pus. Her veins were black and spider webbed up her leg. Her whole body shook and her eyes were cloudy.

  Doctor Bryant clutched Paul’s shoulder and said, “There’s nothing I can do.” She moved quickly and fastened three restraints around Dana’s body.

  “Please, Pastor Caruthers, shepherd her soul to the other side.” Brother Paul’s request snapped Michael out of his trance. He had become mesmerized by Dana’s transformation.

  Michael cleared his throat and began. “Go forth, Christian soul, from this world in the name of God the almighty Father, who created you, in the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who suffered for you, in the name of the Holy Spirit, who was poured out upon you, go forth, faithful Christian.” He pressed his palm to hers and held her hand tightly. The seizures were stronger now and her fingers began to claw up.

  He continued, “May you live in peace this day, may your home be with God in Zion, with Mary, the Virgin Mother of God, with Joseph, and all the Angels and Saints-” Michael jerked his hand away from hers as Dana growled and her eyes went black. Her lips pulled tight and she exposed her teeth. The thing that was Dana turned toward Paul, tried to sit forward and met her restraints. Her jaw snapped at him.

  Paul’s stomach twisted into a knot. His chest felt tight and he couldn’t breathe. Doctor Bryant and Pastor Caruthers backed away from the gurney as if a wild alligator had been set free in the church.

  “We need to take care of her before she…” The Doctor took off her glasses and bowed her head. “…gets loose and hurts someone.”

  Paul looked at the two of them, his eyes were glassy and his chin trembled. “What do you want me to do?”

  Michael found a little courage and said, “She must be put to rest.”

  “I can’t.” Paul’s hands quivered as he wiped away his tears.

  “We can’t let her stay like this. I can get one of the others to-” Lindsay motioned toward the field behind the church.

  “-No,” barked Paul. He rose from his crouched position and towered above Dana’s twitching body. “No, you’re right. This is for me to finish.” Paul reached for the tactical blade strapped to his combat vest. He slid the knife from its sheath and tried with all of his might to steady his hand.

  Paul had taken on the position of Brother in an attempt to simplify his life. He didn’t want the huge responsibility of being a husband and father. His folks were horrible at parenting and loving each other, so he was convinced he would be as miserable if he followed the same path.

  Being a Brother meant living a meager existence and that was perfect for him. Less possessions meant fewer things to worry about. Paul figured he would be happier if he didn’t have to stress about material objects and he was right, but what he didn’t count on was how much the church would need him. His idea of living a simple life had completely backfired on him.

  All eyes were on Paul as he moved closer to Dana’s side. He pressed his hand against her chest and inched his way toward Dana’s neck and under her jaw. He used his powerful forearm to twist her head and expose her temple. He felt his humanity fall
away as the knife plummeted for her skull.

  Paul whispered, “I love you,” as the blade entered her skin. Once the knife penetrated the bone and destroyed her brain, Dana’s body fell still. He removed the knife from her and stepped away from the gurney. He picked up a napkin from an adjacent table and with his back to the others he slowly cleaned her blood from the blade.

  They want a speech.

  The people need me to raise their spirits and give them hope.

  How can I give them what I do not possess?

  Paul knew he needed to remain strong, keep a stiff upper lip and hold it together. If he fell apart in front of them he might lose their respect and would no longer be able to function as their leader. What could he say? What would they need to hear? He wished he could cut out his own heart so he would no longer have to suffer from this pain. He replaced his weapon and faced the crowd.

  “Resume your duties.” It felt as cold to say as it sounded. He turned on his heels and headed for the hallway. There was a bottle of Scotch screaming his name.

  Paul marched into his office. Scott pivoted away from the computer and said something. Paul only heard the siren call of his whiskey.

  He spoke out loud, but not to Scott. He was talking to God. “Seven people lost. Seven less to help rebuild or keep the children safe. Two of them were irreplaceable leaders. Who will I put in charge of the front line now that Connie is dead? And who in their right mind would want to take over for Dana?”

  Scott yelped, “Connie and Dana are gone?”

  Paul didn’t answer him as he pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the drawer. He didn’t bother pouring a glass. He drank straight from the bottle. Paul took a long pull and guzzled shot after shot. The burning sensation in his throat was followed by a wonderful warming of his stomach.

  Would drinking like this help, or make things worse?

  Paul didn’t really care at this point. He released the bottle from his lips and hissed in pain. He continued his talk with the Almighty. “How many battles will we face? How much more can you strip away? Why haven’t you sent your son to help us defeat this army of the dead?” He took another swig from the bottle.