Dying To Live & Fighting To Live-Book One and Book Two (Zombie Overload Series)

by Wright, C. M.

  Oh. my. God! Guns galore! I'm lovin' this! And in the corner, nestled into their own little pouches, were what looked like hideous Christmas ornaments. Oh boy! I know what those are! But just because I've seen grenades used in the movies, I hardly think I'm brave enough to try them myself. Jake has some teaching to do. Just as I'm putting my hand out to grab the big machine gun like Jake and Dad are using, which by the way is right next to the grenades, an explosion rocks the truck. I scream and fly down in the floorboard next to the baby, certain I somehow set off a grenade and am now dead.

  Realizing it wasn't me, and I'm obviously not dead, I jump back up and grab the gun. I am so pissed now! I hate being scared. Popping up out of the hatch, I set the gun up and look around. Dad and Jake have done a good job keeping them back but some have still gotten through. I see Jake throw something into the crowd and this time, I'm prepared for the big boom. But I wasn't watching Dad and his damn grenade made me scream and duck. Some of the zombies that got past the men are now pounding on their vehicles and some are heading toward us. I take out the ones I can but realize I can't hit the ones around the vehicles without risking lives....of the living.

  I duck back down and snatch up my handgun and the rifle. By this time, the dead are beating on our truck and Ash flies into the back with me. He sits on the floor close to the baby, putting one arm over her and one arm covering his head. My boy is shaking in fear and that's not good for the undead. You just don't piss off a mom!

  I go back to the hatch and climb out onto the roof. Crawling across to each side, I use my handgun to take out the ones beating on our truck. When those go down, I switch to my sniper rifle, shooting the ones on my side of both Jake and Dad's Hummers. When Jake sees the zombies drop, he looks back at me with surprise. Then he gives me a big grin and a thumbs-up.

  I turn and continue shooting whatever gets through the two men while, at same time, still looking for my husband. I hear him calling my name but I can't see him. I look wildly around and finally spot him on the roof of the three-story pharmacy. I yell for him to stay there and he nods. I look around and take out two more zombies before leaving the roof of the Hummer and going back inside. Jumping into the drivers seat, I turn the truck on and race it over as close as I can get to the pharmacy. I tell Ash to stay down and that I would be right back with his dad, knowing the undead couldn't bust through this glass. Calling Jake, I tell him what I'm going to do and he argues with me not to go but I win this argument. Telling him Ash will have Will's phone, I hang up. I hand him his dad's cell and show him how to call Jake. I yell up at Will through the hatch to start back down. He yells something to me and I assume it was an 'ok' or something along those lines. Opening the front passenger door, I get out quickly, shooting the two zombies closest to me, and I hear Will scream something at me, but I can't hear him with the guns and grenades going off. I run inside the store.

  I shut the door to keep the others out and, turning, look for the stairs. I find them in the back room, where thousands of prescription bottles of different size and shapes sit on rows of shelves. Racing up the stairs, I come to an open room. And stop. The room is dark but I can see shadows of objects. The room is filled with these shadows. Except for the guns and grenades outside, inside it's quiet. But I still feel that something isn't right. I hold my gun out in front of me, my eyes sweeping from one side of the room to the other, my gun following that same path. I see a movement to my right and spin towards it. But there's nothing but shadows and darkness. Moving inside the room slowly and still alert, I wonder why Will isn't down yet. Then a serious sense of urgency crashes through me. Something is telling me to find Will now! I get an intense feeling he was in extreme danger!

  Forgetting the dark and the shadows, I fly through the room, banging and crashing into things I can't see. I search for open doorways, closed doorways, the stairs, but I can't feel anything except the walls and all the crap I'm knocking off them. I'm feeling panicky and frantic with fear. I try telling myself to calm down, there has to be a door here somewhere. How else had he gotten up? Taking a few deep breaths, I start over, searching the walls. Finally, I find it. It's tucked into a corner of the room. Frantically, I twist and pull at the doorknob. It won't open! In frustration, I punch it hard with the side of my fist. It opens out, squealing on hinges that desperately need oiled. I shiver at the sound, a sound every horror movie fan knows well.

  I stand at the bottom of the steps looking up into pure darkness. Again, where the hell is Will? Is he in danger? If not, he would be down here already, right? I place my foot on the first step and hear movement behind me. Whipping around, gun ready, I see.....nothing! I convince myself it was only a mouse, hell, even a rat. At this point, mice and rats are tame compared to the infestation we have now. I take another look around and start back up the stairs. I make it halfway up when I hear another sound. This time, above me. Will! Finally! I hurry up the stairs, as fast as I can in the dark, and smash my face into a door. Clutching the handrail as tight as I can to keep from falling down the stairs, I drop my gun. At this point, the gun was the furthest thing from my mind. I bring my right hand up and gently touch my nose. I feel a warm, thick liquid run over my lips and I can hear a 'plop, plop' noise on the step below me. Little bursts of light are shooting around in my eyes. Son-of-a-bitch, that hurt! I remember the extra socks in my fatigue pocket and yank them out. I wipe as much of the blood on my lips and chin as I can. I roll it into a ball and, not wanting to trip on it when we go back down, shove it back in my pocket. Taking the other one, I hold it to my nose.

  Something slams into the door above me. I jump back and once again clutch the handrail for dear life. I wait for more sound, but none come. Bending down, I run my hand along the steps, looking for my gun. The door starts banging and jerking in it's frame.

  "Will?" I call out. "Will? Is that you?" No response. What the hell is going on? I can't hear any moans or grunts, two trademarks of the zombies.

  Still searching for the gun, I keep my eyes up, toward the door that I can't see even see. With a crash, the thin door comes raining down on me in large pieces. I scream and throw my arms up to cover my head. The force of something large tumbling down slams into me and I fly down the stairs, backwards. I hit the bottom floor, mostly with my back, but my head smacks the wooden planks pretty hard from the force of the fall. The pain is incredible, but I can still move and I stay conscious, so I'm sure the injuries aren't serious. Something heavy is laying on me. The shattered door at the top allows some light in but not much. I look down and see long, blond, stringy and tangled hair. Instantly, I freak! Shit! Now what? She's skinny and light enough I'm able to move her off of me. She's facing up now and I can just make out that she's wearing a green and white checked sundress. Her face is bruised with small round circles in several places. Her face is gaunt, mostly bone, very little fat. Those same small round bruises cover her hands, arms and legs. She doesn't look like a zombie, though. At least, not yet. She hasn't moved or made any sounds. I dart my eyes around looking for my gun, too afraid to take my attention from her for very long.

  I see her hand twitch and my heart jumps. I watch her for at least a minute. No more movement so I return to my search Then I finally see the barrel of my gun sticking out from under her thigh. Being as quiet and as careful as I can be, I get closer to her and manage to get a firm grip on the barrel, then yank it as hard as I can. It comes loose and I am it at her as I back up the stairs. She never moves. I get to the top and back into the room, afraid to take my eyes off her. If she's an undead, I shouldn't have any reason to worry about her. But if she's not, that bitch is obviously crazy, and I'm not turning my back on her!

  I've moved into the center of the room and finally take a look around. I can't believe what I'm seeing! Pictures cover all four walls. Some from a camera and some drawn by a child's hand. Each picture shows a different form of abuse and horror. One snapshot shows a young girl maybe about the age of six, who looks eerily similar to the young woman at the bot
tom of the stairs, lying naked on a gurney. A large crudely made machine stands next to the gurney and from it, are hundreds of different colored rubbery tubes. Those tubes run to the girl's body and are connect to her with long needles. Every inch of her body seems to be covered. What is most horrifying is that she is AWAKE! Her eyes are wide and bulging, tears frozen in the shot to forever run from her eyes. Her mouth is wide with the screams of pain the picture is unable to capture. The terror on her face is too much for me. I jerk my head away. Determined not to look at another one, I keep my head down. My mistake.

  Chapter 19

  I feel a hand slam over my mouth and an arm around my neck. I'm jerked back hard against the chest of someone behind me. I drop my gun and they kick it across the room. Terror overwhelms me. No, I know it's not a zombie, because a zombie wouldn't have taken the time to cover my mouth, unless it was with their mouth as they bite my lips off. I can tell it's a man from the rough, course hair on his arm, the muscles, and the strength. My hands are scratching and pulling at his arm as it tightens and cuts off my ability to breathe. He loosens his grip, just barely, and then I hear a rough, gravelly, panting voice in my ear.

  "How nice of you to volunteer to be one of my girls." I rapidly shake my head as much as I can. I try to scream, but it's just a muffled noise filling his hand. He jerks me tighter against him and I hear his terrifying voice fill my ear again. "Now, Now. No need to fuss about it. What did you think would happen when you killed my last living girl? I need my girls. That's the only way I know if the treatments I'm testing works. And you'd make a fine test subject. You're not all skin and bones like the others. You will probably last longer. Yes. You'll do just fine." And then he kisses me on my cheek! I gag and fight even harder to get away but this guy is too strong for me. My eyes dart around the room looking for anything I might be able to use to help me. I look over at my gun with longing but it's too far away.

  The next thing I know, the arm is released from my neck, the hand is gone from my mouth, and my already tender back is slammed into the wall. The man moves in front of me and I get my first good look at him. Wearing a long white lab coat, covered in stains, plaid pants showing at the bottom, bottle cap glasses, and thick, tightly curled brown hair that, with some strands of gray along the temples, frames his head. His nose is long and pointed on the end. His eyes are muddy brown and there is way too much of an insane person's sparkle in those things. I'm about to charge him and attack in any way I can, (really, what have I got to lose. I will not be his experiment project!) when he holds something up for me to see. It's a syringe. A big syringe, filled with a bright green liquid.

  "What the hell is that?" My voice comes out scratchy from the abuse he put my throat through.

  He jerks it at me and I jump back tighter against the wall. As he laughs at me, I see movement past his shoulder on the other side of the room. In terror, I realize there are more than one of him here. I see a head peer around the door, and I jerk my eyes back to Dr. Psycho, afraid he will turn to see what I'm looking at.

  "This, this is my cure for the poor insane souls outside." The man tells me. I wonder if it works on insane souls right here in this room? I know I have to keep him talking and distracted.

  "What does it do?" I ask.

  "What it does, my dear, is cure them. I believe I explained that already." Oh, boy!

  "Yes, I'm sorry. You did. I guess I wasn't paying attention. How does it work?" I ask.

  Suddenly, my head snaps to the right as he slaps me as hard as he can. I slide against the wall to the floor as my legs give out. My cheek is on fire and tears gush from my eyes from the force of the slap. There's a very loud ringing in my ear. Blood is filling my mouth and my already injured nose is screaming in pain, and starts bleeding again. Holding my hand to my cheek, I swing my head back to him. I'm frozen with horror as he brings the syringe up in the air above me and then......He jerks and falls to the side. I didn't even hear the bang of my gun go off over the ringing in my ears.

  I look up and see Will in a shooter's stance, just bringing his hands holding the gun down. I want to run to him and be held and comforted by him, but I can't get up. My head feels so heavy and every movement makes my stomach spin. I see Will point the gun at the man's head, making certain he doesn't come back and I hear the shot this time. Feeling nauseous, I turn my upper body away, plant my hands on the floor, and throw up blood. I hear Will call out my name as he runs over to me. Finally done throwing up, He holds me and I let him....until he starts rocking me. Shoving him away, I throw up more blood. I thought at first it was just the blood that had leaked into my throat from the slap, but now, I'm not so sure. Oh, wait. A couple bloody noses, too. Let's go with that. I really don't need any internal injuries right now. We wait a few minutes after the vomiting stops before I try to stand. Will helps me as I slowly and painfully get to my feet. I think the fall from the stairs kicked my ass.

  "I told you not to come up here!" He did?

  "When?" I ask him.

  "When you got out of the Hummer. I said 'Don't come up here.' Why the hell did you come up here?" Uh, to save your ass, remember?

  "I didn't hear you over the guns and grenades. But I'm alive, I think, and we need to get the hell out of here." I start toward the stairs and he steps next to me. He puts his arm around me to help, but I yelp from his touch on my back and jerk away from him, which hurts, too. He apologizes but I tell him it's not his fault, he was just trying to help, after all.

  Slowly, very, very slowly, we go down the stairs. At the bottom, we step around the girl and Will asks me if he should shoot her, too. I look at her, and the photos from upstairs flash in my mind. I shake my head no, shut the door on her, and continue to the outside door of the pharmacy. The pain is still pretty high but I'm able to move better, which relieves me greatly. Will looks out the window on the door and slowly eases it open. Then he ducks back in and quietly shuts it. Leaning against the door, he informs me we aren't getting out with just my gun. The undead are swarming our Hummer.

  I gasp in terror as I think of my baby boy having to go through that alone. I want to tear out of here and rip every one of their damn heads of with my bare hands. But I force myself to think clearly and I whip out my cellphone. Speed dialing Jake, I tell him our son needs help and we can't get to him and why. He tells me not to worry and hangs up. I worry, anyway. I run back to the door and look out. The damn dead are beating on our Hummer. It's rocking back and forth from the assault of so many trying to get inside. I don't really think they will get inside, but my baby has got to be terrified. I hate myself for leaving him. I should have thought of something else! A huge sob escapes me and I clutch my stomach as a wave of pain from not protecting my son overtakes me and I move away from the door so none of the zombies outside can hear me.

  Then I hear the sound of gunshots coming from just outside. Relieved that Jake has come to the rescue, I run back to the door, and look out the window. But, I don't see Jake. What I do see, almost makes me pass out from shock. Ash, my baby, is on top of the roof and has a freakin' gun in his hand. Aiming straight down from the top, he takes out each one he aims at. I turn my head and look at Will in shock, and he's looking at me with the same expression. Finally, this side of the truck is cleared enough, so we run out the door, using my gun to take out the stragglers, and get safely inside our vehicle. I painfully climb up the hatch to the roof and surround Ash with my arms. Squeezing him tightly to me, I apologize over and over for leaving him, but apparently getting to use the gun made him forget all that. But I don't forget. I'll never forget.

  Chapter 20

  I get Ash back inside and then I look over at Dad's side of town, then Jake's, trying to determine who needs the most help. Considering Jake is using the grenades and Dad isn't, I yell down for Will to take off toward Dad. I tell him to squeeze into the space between Dad's vehicle and the building and then I ask him to hand me up the guns and ammo. When I get the ammo, I reload all the weapons and Will joins me at the top w
ith his handgun and a shotgun. I look at the shotgun for a second in surprise then at Will.

  "Found it in the seat." He says with a shrug.

  Of course. Where else? I roll my eyes and get in position to fire.

  It seems like this has been going on for hours. Shoot, reload, shoot, change guns, shoot, and on and on. My arms are weak and shaking from exhaustion. My hands and arms have a weird tingly sensation from the rapid fire of the machine gun. The adrenaline has worn off and my eyes are drooping, not to mention the pain my body has been subjected to. I'm so damn tired and these damn things won't stop coming! What's worse, everyone else is starting to slow down. Mom, Greg, Sam, and even Bo had joined in the shooting. Dad made sure Bo was on top of the truck, of course.

  At first, Bo was excited and enthusiastic about his first time shooting a gun, but the novelty wore off as time went by. Eventually, he crawled back in my parent's truck and, I'm sure, is fast asleep. Last I checked on Ash and Grace, they were both asleep, too. Ash, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a blanket had, thankfully, left us enough room to get down. That should tell you that I wasn't too far from the truth over how long it's been. The shooting has become the kids' lullaby instead of scaring them. I crawl back to the hole and almost fall face-first to the floor, unable to find the strength to lower myself down. But even though I'm ready to collapse, I keep going. I lean over the open storage compartment and can't believe what I'm seeing. I blink several times and reach my hands in, moving the three other guns. Nothing. I check the three guns, already knowing what I will find. I feel the panic start spreading in my chest. I fly up out of the hole and scream to Jake that we are out of ammo. I whip around when I hear Dad yell the same.