CRISIS (Descendants Saga (Crisis Sequence) Book 2)

by James Somers

  “We have to leave the tracks and head through that neighborhood,” Holly says, diverting to the far right of the tracks.

  Garth and I look at one another. We can make the jump from here to the wall beyond. There is no way to just quickly climb down to street level, but there is a perimeter wall separating the tracks and their supports from the neighborhood. Holly and Cassie slow, as though they intend to find a way down.

  Garth glances at me. “You take Cassie, I’ve got Holly,” he says. Neither of us has slowed our pace. We’re going to need all of the momentum we can muster.

  He rushes up beside Holly, scooping her up around the waist with his right arm while holding onto her left arm with his to steady her. He leaps away from the tracks, Holly screaming through the air beside him unaware of our plan. Cassie stares at them stunned.

  I rush to her side in the same way a fraction of a second later, scooping her up and leaping from the tracks. Cassie doesn’t scream. Instead, her arms wrap around my neck in a death grip that practically crushes my windpipe. Her face is buried in the crook of my neck. The only sound she makes is a single gasp as my feet depart the tracks and sail through the air.

  Garth and Holly land just ahead of us, touching off the top of the retaining wall, then spring away to the ground. I see the wisdom of the maneuver. There’s no way we can stop dead on top of the wall. We would only pitch forward out of control.

  I copy Garth’s moves, using the wall like a stepping stone to bleed off some of our momentum. Cassie’s legs come down as we hit the pavement with hardly a stumble. It was a better effort than my leap from the Sainsbury to the tracks the first time with Garth.

  “You two okay?” Garth asks.

  Holly stands next to him, panting more out of terror than from the running. Cassie seems to be in better standing. Either she realized what was going to happen when she saw Garth leap away with Holly, or she is better equipped mentally because of her gifts. Only she can say, but she’s only now disentangling her arms from around my neck.

  “Sorry about that, Holly,” Garth says. “I thought you might not let me take you across, if I asked first.”

  Holly’s hands are still shaking, but she seems to be regaining her composure. “No, it’s all right,” she says, unconvincingly. “And you’re right, I never would have agreed. I don’t suppose they can make that jump?”

  “I doubt it,” I say.

  “Probably not,” Garth agrees. “They couldn’t get from the roof of the department store to the tracks, and it’s about the same distance.”

  “Yes, but the gap didn’t stop them climbing,” Holly points out. “We had better get out of sight before they catch up and see where we’ve gone.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work,” Cassie says, pointing.

  All our gazes follow her line of sight into the neighborhood behind us. It’s a place of modest brick dwellings, many of them two story homes that look like they were poured from the same mold thirty years ago. Cars sit in many of the driveways. Everything looks fairly undisturbed, even peaceful—that is except for the zombies emerging from some of the homes.

  If not for their ghoulish appearance, you might think these were the actual residents, emerging from their homes to go to work in the morning. No such luck. They fix their eyes on us.

  “Everyone, hold perfectly still,” I whisper as delicately as possible, hoping the infected will not notice us unless we move.

  I had been able to sit for hours in my original cell within the Tombs facility, staring at Tom Kennedy without enraging him. After a time of inactivity on my part, he seemed to forget I was there. When I made the slightest move, his rage came upon him again, and he did his worst, trying to get through the clear cell wall to me.

  We four freeze in place on the street. The half dozen zombies that have come from the homes nearby also stand still, examining us with more curiosity than hostility. However, we soon hear the footsteps of our pursuers from the elevated train tracks behind.

  To our credit, none of us move a millimeter, though I know I want nothing more than to bolt away like a startled rabbit. The zombies behind, screech angrily. They have certainly seen where we left the tracks and our direction, but they will have lost sight of our group after our desperate leap to safety.

  The zombies at the houses look at their train track counterparts, but still do not rush toward us. Behind, we hear zombies attempting the jump from the tracks to the street where we now stand motionless and breathless. Cries of outrage come to us from beyond the wall as they miss the jump and crash to the pavement below the tracks where another road runs outside this neighborhood.

  Indecision weighs upon us, and the others seem to be waiting on me to make the first move, since I’m the one suggesting stillness. I hiss out a breath in frustration through my teeth, when some of the zombies from the train tracks begin to climb over the border wall into the neighborhood. Even though the infected individuals at the houses seem unsure, these are still determined. We can’t wait any longer.

  Almost as one, our group decides on the only course of action available to us. I draw the MP5K submachine gun around on its shoulder strap, ready to shoot and take off like a runner from a starting line. Garth whips his blade out, assuming a rear guard position that will allow him to dispatch the zombies coming at us from the wall. Holly joins me with her pistol in hand, running toward the infected now running toward us from the houses.

  Cassie remains just behind us, coming on, despite not having a weapon. I determine to shield her as best I can, running interference between any dangers that might try to get to her. It’s time to either be a hero and defend my new friends, or die trying.

  I hear Garth’s katana whipping the air behind us. No doubt he is cutting down our pursuers as they make it down from the wall. I can’t take the time to watch. I pull the trigger on the MP5K as we close the gap with threats emerging from the houses. We’re just going to have to plow our way through this neighborhood in order to reach the Battersea Power Station looming beyond its borders.

  Instead of running away, we’re charging toward the infected. It feels like a floodgate opened. It feels like insanity breaking loose in my head. I cannot stop the cry of rage pouring forth as I mow through these ravenous beasts.

  They want to kill us. They want to consume our lives by their hunger or their infection. Either way, who we are as human beings will die. In a way, I would rather have my life end than to end up as one of these. I pity them, but the only kindness I know to do for them is to end this madness. I would hope one of my friends would do as much for me, if it became necessary.

  Then I wonder if I would find this task so easy, if I knew these people. What if Holly or Garth or Cassie became infected by these creatures? What then? How could I look them in the face and snuff out their lives? How could I not?

  These are questions I have no time to ponder. In a situation like this, when our lives are on the line, all I can do is act. It’s furious and panicked and chaotic, but there’s nothing for it. We want to survive. Even though the world seems to be falling apart around us, we want to live.

  Bodies fall before us. My aim is far from the precision Holly puts into her effort. She brings them down with one bullet to the head almost every time. I’m reminded of Nesky’s words to me inside the Porsche, after we escaped from the Tombs laboratory. He told me that Holly was more than a scientist. He said she was also an agent. Watching her now, I can’t doubt the claim.

  Cassie remains right next to me. I want to protect her. I’m willing to take these zombies down with my bare hands, if need be to protect her. It seems completely crazy, since I hardly know her, but I still feel that way.

  More of the infected emerge to our right, and the worst thing that could happen does happen. We become separated. A mob of zombies rush toward us, splitting us down the middle. Cassie and I lunge for the only way out. To our left, the front door on the nearest house stands open.

  I’ve already shot the one or two
that emerged there. We jump over the bodies to get inside. Holly is near Garth, shooting down the infected as they both run for another house. I hear her last words before I run into this house and slam the door.

  “Get to Battersea!” Holly shouts.

  I slam the door with Cassie backing away into the house. She’s shaking almost uncontrollably, obviously terrified. I would be too, but I’m too focused on escape to think about it right now.

  Bodies hit the door, and I feel the strength of them as they seek to bash through into the house and kill us. I won’t be able to hold them. We have to escape somehow.

  “Out the back door!” I shout. “Go, Cassie, while they’re distracted here in the front of the house.”

  “Not without you,” she says, urging me to come away from the door.

  I drop the empty clip from the submachine gun, replacing it with another from my backpack. I pull the firing bolt and release it, deciding that these things are going to come through one way or another. We have to go now.

  I practically jump away from the door, not knowing if it will instantly explode inward like a dam bursting. It doesn’t happen quite that fast. As I come away toward Cassie, zombies smash through the living room windows instead.

  They come to their feet almost instantly, rushing forward wrapped up in the white curtains. I see thrashing ghosts flying toward us. Cassie screams. The curtains blossom into flame around their bodies and then those bodies are propelled backward through the windows again, bowling through others attempting to come inside there.

  The fire shocks me more than the zombies coming through. I have no idea what just happened. Did a gas burner explode from the stove? The power isn’t even on in the house. What’s going on?

  Yet, even a mysterious reprieve is still a reprieve, and we can’t afford to waste it. I grab Cassie’s hand quickly and run through the house. We find a sunroom at the rear of the house and go inside. For the moment, we’re out of their sight. There doesn’t appear to be any around here at the back of the house.

  Emerging with Cassie into the backyard, I notice the sound of gunshots behind us. They aren’t in the house, but beyond it somewhere. The report is distinctive, coming from Holly’s pistol. It occurs to me that she can’t have much ammunition left. In fact, soon, neither of us will have any bullets. It will be melee weapons only after that, but none of us has near the skill Garth does with his katana.

  I still have her hand in mine. I notice that it seems small in comparison, but warm and soft—so frail it’s like I could crush it, if I’m not careful. Also, Cassie seems to be stumbling a bit, though obviously doing her best to keep up. I briefly wonder if I’m driving her too hard. Still, it’s either the hard way, or we face the infected in their rage.

  “Are you all right?” I whisper, as we come up against a hedge row.

  Cassie nods, still not bothering to remove her hand from mine. I almost wonder if I’m not now supporting her in some way. She looks weary since the house, and I think that the fire and explosion driving the zombies back out the windows has caused her to be in shock.

  “It just takes a lot out of me, when I have an episode,” she explains.

  For a moment, I have no idea what she is talking about. I’m thinking of fainting spells, or something of the kind that might sap her strength. Maybe she has anxiety attacks and it makes her like this. Then I remember who this girl is. She was one of Dr. Albert’s special program participants.

  I’ve not known, so far, why Cassie was in Sector Four—not known her special ability. However, the events in the house race back through my mind with more clarity now. The power was off, no lights, no nothing. It couldn’t have been anything electrical. There was no smell of gas either. Could it be?

  “Cassie, did you do that in the house—the fire, pushing them out the windows?”

  She offers me an almost shameful expression in reply. “I have trouble controlling it,” she says wearily.

  A smile crosses my face, as I look at her. “That’s brilliant,” I say, keeping my voice very low.

  Cassie returns my smile then, seeming a little embarrassed by the compliment. I still haven’t let her hand go, and she still hasn’t pulled away. The cries of the infected, as well as their cacophony of destruction rolling through the house behind us, draw my attention away from this amazing revelation.

  “We had better keep moving,” she says.

  “I just hope the others can get to Battersea,” I reply.

  “Garth will get Holly there safely,” she says, as we move carefully through the hedge.

  I peer through the other side. Everything looks clear here. The infected have all congregated at the house and wherever Garth and Holly got to.

  “You’ve known Garth for a pretty good while, then?” I ask, before we head on into the street again.

  “Years,” she replies. “He’s been like a big brother to me,” she clarifies.

  I nod nonchalantly, as though I hadn’t been wondering what sort of relationship they had with one another. Of course, I have been wondering. I’ve wondered ever since meeting them in Sector Four, but I’m not going to tell her that.

  “Looks like we’ve got a clear road for the moment,” I say, leading her on. “We’ll move quickly and jump the wall behind those houses over there.”

  Still hand in hand, we race away from the hedge just before zombies come through into the backyard. We steal down the road, running for another house with an open door. With no one in pursuit, yet, we run inside and through to the back again. The backyard lies beyond a rear kitchen door. The brick wall stands at the perimeter.

  Seeing no zombies in the yard, Cassie and I proceed through the door and into the yard. Our hands part naturally as we come up against the wall. A swing and several plastic riding toys litter the small lawn. I’m struck by the thought that children have been killed because of this plague. There’s just something about children in harm’s way that seems worse.

  Guilt tries to weigh down my thoughts. Cassie doesn’t appear to notice that anything is wrong. She’s eyeing the wall instead. I choke back my emotions. There’s no way I could have anticipated any of this happening. However this virus got into my blood, I wasn’t the cause. I didn’t make Tom Kennedy and his cronies jump me with a cricket bat. I defended myself, but I never meant to see Tom become some infected maniac, and when I shot him, it was a mercy toward someone who had shown me none.

  I remove my gaze from the plastic toys. This pity party isn’t going to help anyone. Things are the way they are and all of it has been beyond my control. I don’t understand why it’s happening, but I can do my best to survive and help others to do the same.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask Cassie.

  She gives me a wry look. “Can I trust you?”

  I link my hands together, palms up, forming a sling for her foot. “I’ll be gentle,” I offer.

  She grins and puts her right foot in my hands. As she straightens her leg, I pull up with my arms. I judge Cassie to weigh about one hundred pounds, maybe one hundred and ten, at most. She feels as light as a feather to me. I easily send her shooting up to the top of the twelve-foot-high brick wall.

  Cassie lands on top as gracefully as a cat. I step back a few paces, take two good strides and leap toward the top near her. Now that I’ve made greater jumps alongside Garth, I know I can make it. I grab the top edge easily and haul myself up next to Cassie.

  Battersea Power Station towers over an apartment complex just ahead of us. This is one of many units planned to be built as part of the new Battersea development project. Most of the work is left undone, of course. It was going to be a beautiful new part of London. However, this disastrous outbreak has stopped the work in its tracks. All of London lies in a state of critical condition. It seems likely that it will not recover.

  “I wonder how many of them are wandering around that block of flats.” Cassie says, vocalizing my own thought.

  “There may be many,” I reply. “I’m not sure how we can
circumvent the place though. Our options will lead us out in the open any way we try to go.”

  We sit on top of the wall for a moment, taking some respite from all of the running we’ve been doing this morning. So far, none of the zombies have followed us here. Hopefully, that means we’ve lost our pursuers, but it’s difficult to know how long they’ll be mindful of us and keep searching.

  Neither of us says it, but I know Cassie has to be wondering about Garth and Holly as much as I am. We haven’t heard any further gunfire, nor have we seen them running toward Battersea ahead of us. I’m assuming they will have a horde of zombies in pursuit, and we haven’t seen any sign of them beyond the wall.

  “We can’t stay here for long,” she says, looking at me.

  I nod to her, my expression probably more grim than I mean for it to be. I’m worried about them. I’m worried about us. At least, while we’re perched upon this wall we have some rest. It just won’t last long. Soon enough, we’ll be spotted by the infected wandering the streets and neighborhoods.

  “Garth will keep Holly safe,” Cassie says again, touching my hand in a consoling manner. “He’ll give his life to do so, if need be.”

  “Why is that?”

  Cassie grins impishly. “He likes Holly,” she says. “He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s still true. I know him better than he thinks.”

  Hearing this surprises me about Garth, but it doesn’t bother me. Holly is a friend. I don’t consider whether or not she might have any interest in him in return. However, it is a little comforting. I know, if Garth does have feelings for her, that he will do whatever is necessary to protect her. He seems extremely capable, from all I’ve seen.

  “It’s too bad he’s not here,” I say. “You deserve someone as skilled as he is protecting you too.”

  Cassie turns back to look at me. She places her palm on my cheek. “That’s sweet,” she says, “but don’t underestimate yourself. Garth is good, but he’s had training. Even without that advantage, you’ve kept me safe. You belonged in Dr. Albert’s program as much as Garth or me. There’s a lot that’s special about you, Jonathan. Others can see it, even if you don’t.”