The Last Infection (Book 1)

by Michael W. Garza

  Chris hadn’t seen another survivor in over a month as best as his internal calendar could tell. The two who were currently walking in front of him were even more curious. He’d led them to a crowded parking lot several blocks south of the building they’d found one another in. He’d used the lot before. He slid open the side door of a tireless minivan and urged them in. The boy eyed him queerly before looking around at the surrounding vehicles. A few contained the blacked and bloated bodies of the dead, some of which were still moving.

  “Think of it as camouflage,” Chris explained the unasked question. “The zombies trapped in the cars seem to tell the infected that there’s nothing to see here.”

  Alicen glanced at the boy and he nodded. The two climbed in and Chris followed, sliding the door closed behind them. The middle seats were missing, leaving a wide open space on the floor between the front seat and the rear. Chris sat down, crossed his legs and set the bag of snacks down between them. He reached around the front passenger seat and dug through a pile of trash on the floorboard, pulling back a backpack.

  “Knew I’d need this again,” he said. He turned over the bag of snacks and poured the contents out on the floor. The group took in the sight like a pack of hungry wolves. “You two going to sit?”

  The kids were still hunched over near the rear row of seats, unsure of their place. They sat down together and huddled close to one another, their eyes locking on the treasure of food on the ground.

  “I heard you call her Alicen, you got a name?”

  The boy tore his stare away from the candy bars and chip bags long enough to make eye contact with Chris.

  “Jake, Jake Bradley. Alicen’s my sister.” He reached for a candy bar, his eyes looking for a response from Chris.

  Chris shrugged. “Go ahead; I guess it’s half yours anyway.” The kids went at the stash as if they hadn’t eaten in a month. Chris separated his half, then started on a candy bar and looked up to discover half of the kid’s share was already gone. “You should really slow down,” he said in an unusual fatherly way. “You’re probably going to make yourselves sick.” He laughed as they ignored him. “I’d hate to see you waste the food by throwing it up.”

  Alicen leaned back with a look of contentment. She wore a wide smudge of chocolate across her face. She was smiling, something Chris hadn’t seen in a long time. Her hand was still wrapped around a bar of chocolate, but she appeared to lack the ability to take another bite.

  “Here, take the trash bag,” Chris said holding it out. “You’re going to need something to hold the rest of it with.”

  Jake pushed back against the rear seat and opened a bag of chips. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Chris. Chris West, if you want to be formal about it.” He started packing away the remainder of his feast in his backpack and popped open another candy bar as he worked. “You two alone?” He didn’t really want to know the answer, but he couldn’t think of anything else to ask. In truth, all of the time he’d spent alone had eroded what little social skills he possessed.

  Jake shot his sister a sideways glance before responding. “It’s only us,” he said. “…how about you?”

  Chris laughed. “Me? Hell, I’ve got a huge social circle. I just got lost.” He kept laughing, but the kids didn’t seem to get his joke. “Don’t be fooled,” he said. “We’re all alone out here.”

  “We’re not,” Alicen said in an angry reply.

  Jake shushed her which only made Chris all the more curious.

  “Is that so,” Chris said. “Then where’s the rest of your gang?”

  The kids didn’t answer, but it was obvious from the aggravation on Alicen’s face that she wanted to.

  “Come on, kid,” Chris urged Jake, “I’m not going to give away your secret. Look around,” he motioned out the grimy windows of the van, “who the hell would care anyway?”

  The boy put down the bag of chips between his legs and wiped his hands together to get off the sticky salt. He gave the question far more thought than Chris believed it warranted. Chris was about to forget the entire conversation when Jake finally spoke up.

  “We’re going to find our Aunt Debra and Uncle Mike.”

  Chris did his best not to snicker. “That’s the big secret? What makes you think ole’ Debbie and Mike are any better off than you two are?” Jake considered the question, but Chris had heard enough. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. I’ve heard more fairytales about safe houses and free zones than I can stand.”

  “It’s not a fairytale,” Alicen screamed at the top of her lungs, then buried her face in her brother’s shoulder.

  Chris’ head spun around at the high-pitched shout, scanning the surrounding vehicles. “Alright, kid, whatever you say. Keep your voice down.” The little girl continued to sob and wouldn’t look at him. Chris felt something for the first time in a while. He wasn’t sure sympathy would ever bother him again. “Fine,” he said when he couldn’t take her crying any longer. “I didn’t mean it wasn’t true. What the hell do I know, anyway?”

  Jake cleared his throat as he urged his sister to sit up. “Catalina,” he said.

  Chris’ brow creased as he thought. It took a moment, but the recognition of the word came to him. “The island?” he asked. “In California?” Both kids nodded. “That’s like a thousand miles away. You gonna walk there?”

  “If we have to,” Jake said defiantly, then added, “I can drive.”

  “How old are you, kid?”

  “Twelve.”

  “And your sister?”

  “She’s eight.”

  Chris opened up another candy bar as he absorbed all the information. It took him several minutes to understand the undertaking the kids were looking at. He was midway through the bar when the sheer impossibility of it all came to him. “So let me get this straight, a pair of preteens is going to walk,” he paused, “or drive, a thousand miles or so through a few states, that are no doubt loaded with zombies and the infected, to reach a magically unaffected island containing Aunt May and Uncle Joe?”

  “Aunt Debra and Uncle Mike,” Alicen corrected.

  “Whatever.”

  Jake nodded.

  Chris leaned up against the back of the driver’s seat and let out a long breath. “Well, have fun with that. You’re welcome to hang out in my humble abode and rest up for your trip. I’ll be off as soon as I catch a few hours myself.”

  He finished his candy bar in two big bites, and then stretched out his legs. He closed his eyes before either of the kids could get another word in. Chris knew the kids were waiting for him to ask more questions, but he didn’t want to know any more about their plan. He sat with his eyes closed tightly, desperately trying to think about anything besides their impossible task. His old nemesis, guilt, was raising its head and as he tried to fight it off, he managed to fall into a restless sleep.

  #

  Chris shifted uneasily, then caught himself, as he slid off the backside of the driver’s seat. He knew the moment his eyes snapped open that he’d slept longer than he’d intended. Two things stood out almost immediately. First, it was dark outside, and second, he was alone in the minivan. It took him a full minute to shake off the haze of sleep still shrouding his mind. Once he was sure of himself, he verified that it was in fact dark outside and the kids were nowhere to be found.

  A sudden thought came over him and he pulled open his backpack only to discover his half of the snacks missing. “Those little shits.” He laughed despite himself. “Good riddance then.” He thought for a moment about rolling over and going back to sleep, but the unsatisfied growl in his stomach urged him in another direction. He wasn’t starving, but he was hungry. The difference was something he’d learned very acutely since the infection started.

  The memory of the office building and the raid on the vending machine was still fresh in his mind. Thank God, there weren’t any infected, he thought. So the theory went, if the infected were out at night hunting, then their day t
ime hiding spots must be safer for food exploration. He wasn’t sure how sound the logic was, but it had kept him alive for eight months and he was going to stick with it. The undead were always a concern, but that was something he would have to deal with.

  He got up on his knees and surveyed his surroundings. The only movement came from the constant shifting of the poor undead bastards trapped inside the nearby vehicles. He’d had an ongoing debate with himself about which would be worst, becoming one of the mindless undead or the blood driven infected. At the beginning, some doctors theorized that the infected still had human thought, but were blinded by an insatiable lust for blood. It was only discovered, right before the full loss of governmental control, that it was the infected that became zombies after final death. It was suggested that out of courtesy for your fellow man that survivors who’d become infected should kill themselves before the full virus took hold.

  Chris zipped up his jacket and slid his backpack in place. He couldn’t figure out how the kids got out without waking him. He guessed they’d had to have learned to be as quiet as mice to have survived as long as they had on their own. Chris chuckled. In the end, the kids had done him a favor. Sneaking off, left him with no chance to get involved and as far as his conscious was concerned, there wasn’t anything else he could do about it.

  He took hold of his bat, then pulled open the minivan’s sliding door. He slipped out into a cold, crisp night with less weight on his shoulders. In fact, he couldn’t remember feeling as well rested. His hunger crept back into the forefront of his mind and he tried to figure out if there were any hotspots nearby. He’d put together a good map of Denver, highlighting safe houses, food stores, and even contacts, but he’d lost it with his gear during his escape from the mall. His only remaining tool was a lighter and he was sure it was about to run out of fluid.

  He had half a mind to head back to reclaim his stuff, but he needed to eat first, so the gear would have to wait. In the south, highway seventy was visible between a series of three and four story buildings. Chris knew where there were highways; there would be exits and onramps. Exits and onramps meant convenience stores. He was on the move a minute later with a new hope for dinner in his belly.

  He moved quickly but quietly, his head on a swivel as he walked. He crossed west Fifty-Second Street before realizing where he was. Kingston Parkway had been a major inroad through North West Denver. Most important to Chris, the nearby highway exit was lined with fast food restaurants and gas stations, each with its own risks and chances at sustenance. He crossed behind a large gardening store headed towards Fifty-First Street when a distinct sound rang out from somewhere nearby.

  A gunshot was easy to recognize and these days, someone had to be in real trouble to waste the round. Chris froze and waited for the echo to clear. He closed his eyes and turned in the direction of a new sound. His eyes sprang open and he ran towards the side of the building. The sound of voices, now screaming, guiding him and as he neared the front of the building, he made them out.

  “Get behind me,” a distinctively feminine voice cried. There was another gunshot as Chris reached the corner of the building. “Here they come, get ready.”

  Chris peeked out onto a parking lot in front of the store and found the woman behind the voice almost immediately. She raised a handgun and fired. The round hit an advancing figure as it leapt up on top of a car a few stalls away. The shot hit a sagging gray forehead in between a set of haunting eyes. The snap that followed sent its brains out the back of its head. The woman looked back for a split second, taking precious attention off an advancing mob of infected running across the lot towards her. Chris followed her eyes and his stomach soured. In a flash, the full weight of his guilt rushed back as the terror filled faces of Jake and Alicen caught his attention, cowering behind the tail end of a beat up Ford.

  5.

  There was a defiant look on the woman’s face as she braced for an unnecessary last stand. Chris’ guilt wrestled with his common sense for half a second before he settled on what he had to do. He waved his hands above his head as he stepped away from the side of the building. The infected rushed across the parking lot as their vulgar hissing growls rose to a hurricane.

  “Come on,” Chris yelled. “Follow me.”

  His words trailed off as he headed around the front of the building. He caught the woman’s attention, but unfortunately, several of the advancing infected took notice. He would have sworn one of the blood lustful creatures motioned toward him as a portion of the pack broke off from the main force, but Chris didn’t have time to process it. He made it past the main entrance of the lawn care store before risking a look back. He caught sight of the woman with the kids in tow as they leapt into the store through one of its many busted out windows.

  “Not in there.”

  He leapt in further down the storefront and tried to locate the trio through the dark interior with no success. The entire pack of infected regrouped in the lot, then sprinted towards the store, baying with furious rage. Fear pushed Chris’ legs to the brink. He spotted movement beyond the registers and caught up with the kids after several lengthy strides. The woman was in the lead, pulling the group down the center aisle.

  “Nice plan,” Chris managed between panting breaths. “Now we’re trapped.”

  She looked back, but didn’t respond. She was sucking in air as deeply as the kids were. Her dark brown hair clung to the sides of her face, held by the sweat running down her forehead. They were near the rear of the store when the rushing sound of their pursuers pouring into the storefront echoed down the aisles. The woman reached the end of the row, and then came to a sudden stop. Chris nearly bowled over the kids as he tried to pull back his momentum.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  The woman gasped a few deep breaths before acknowledging him. “You want to lead?” she asked then motioned toward the back wall.

  Chris scanned the row and found the best chance they had left. “Come on.” He didn’t explain before taking off at a full sprint. He was headed for a wide door exit in the far corner against the back wall. He’d seen the store from the rear while crossing Fifty-First Street and if his sense of direction was correct, he figured they might survive if they could get outside.

  The volume of nefarious sounds continued to grow until a roar of shrieks rose to the point of madness. The long aisles of wares rocked and toppled over. The sparse light cascading through the storefront windows was disappearing, giving a hint at the sheer immensity of the infected pushing into the building. The fear consuming the intended victims quickly swelled to a heightened terror. Chris knew before the first of them burst out onto the rear row that he and his new followers wouldn’t reach the exit door in time.

  Something told him that his bat and the woman’s sidearm weren’t going to be enough to save them. The shadows of the infected overtook them like a death grip tightening around the neck. They were two aisles from the exit when Chris turned his attention to a rear shelving unit. He shifted his aim and slammed his shoulder into the tall display making contact over a row of flowerpots that had apparently been on clearance. The initial thudding impact told him he would regret it later, but for now, he hoped there would be a later to regret it.

  “Push,” he yelled.

  The woman and kids responded and the shelving tilted and gave way. The result was a deafening crash which left the last two aisles blocked, but it did nothing to the eight or so rows behind them. The woman fired two rounds before Chris turned to see what was coming. The wall of infected running toward them was beyond counting. He’d managed to buy a few precious seconds, but little else. Chris grabbed the kids by the collars of their jackets and pushed them towards the exit door. He was already running when he called out to the woman.

  “We’re only going to get one shot at this. Don’t be on the wrong side of the door.”

  The kids reached the exit and slammed into the emergency bar, opening the way in time for Chris to run through. He swe
pt them out of the way as he passed, then pulled them outside with him. He took one last look for the damsel and found her right on top of them. Chris slipped out of the way and his last view of the interior of the store was of an indiscernible mass of the infected frantically charging toward him.

  “I’m not going to be able to hold this,” he said, slamming his shoulder against the outside of the door as it closed.

  The others made a frantic search of the immediate area for anything that might help. Chris peered over his shoulder and recognized at once the tall fenced in area behind the store he’d seen on his approach. It hadn’t meant much to him then, but now, it stood as another hurdle to any hope of survival. He didn’t remember the roll of razor wire strategically placed across the top of the fence. The interior of the outdoor space was crammed with a wide assortment of plants, tree saplings, crates of bags stuffed with an array of colored rocks and mulch, and every type of yard fencing imaginable.

  “Start grabbing those bags,” he ordered, trying to motion with his head.

  Jake and Alicen worked together, while the woman dragged a bag alone. The trio’s strength was not up to the heavy lifting and there was only a stack of four against the door when the blow came. The shock radiated through Chris and rattled his bones. He managed to absorb most of the initial hit and kept the door closed. The following assault cracked the door a few inches and several fingers slid through the opening. A smell of week old meat left out in the sun hit Chris square in the face. He forced his weight forward and sliced off the festering digits as the door slammed closed.

  “Hurry.”

  The trio threw bags of rocks with everything they had, following it up with the mulch, and anything else they could get their hands on. The deed was done and Chris was left pushing up against a pile of quality gardening material taller than him. The tower appeared to weigh enough to give them some time, but he stepped back, knowing it would not hold for long. The mountain shook from a constant assault on the door. He gathered his group together in the center of the fenced in space.