Zombie Overload (Book 4): Determined To Live

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Zombie Overload (Book 4): Determined To Live Page 15

by C. M. Wright


  Jake deals with moving the man out of the way, and then informs me he's going to make sure there are no more surprises. I turn away once he disappears from view to reassure Jessica that everything's ok now. But just as I get turned around, Jessica has me pinned flat on my back to the floor. Her gnashing teeth are close enough to my face that I can feel the spit and her hot breath. I turn my face away and scream for Jake, but he's outside, and the door is shut which makes this building almost sound-proof.

  I shove my fist in her neck and push her back as far as I can, which with my abused body, isn't that far. She growls and thrashes her head, trying get free. I remember the one weapon I do have and bring my knee up and under her body. With a hard upward thrust of my leg, I send her body off and to the side of me. I scramble to turn with my feet pointed at her body, and then I bring my cast up and slam it down on her head. Realizing I can't get enough power by sitting down, I grab hold of the nearest vending machine and stand. Then I keep holding on and really start slamming the bottom of the cast on her head as she continues to move toward me on her belly.

  Even after her head has split open and all kinds of nasty jelly stuff is pouring out, I keep stomping. In my mind she's still alive. When I feel a strong pair of arms grab me from behind and spin me away, I fight again. But then I hear Jake's voice and I forget he's the enemy now too, as relieved as I am that he's someone I know, someone who's not a zombie. I stop struggling, turn in his arms, and throw my own arms around him. We hold on tight to each other as I sob and tell him how scared I was, and how close she came to biting me. If I hadn't turned around when I did...

  He holds me and tells me I'm ok now, and after a few minutes, I calm down enough to think a little more clearly.

  "Jake, can we get the hell out of here? Please?" He nods and leads me to the door. I don't look at anything but the exit. When we get outside, he lifts me in his arms and carries me to the truck. Once I'm inside, he opens the back door and digs around inside a box. When he hands me a can of little smoked sausages, I open it distractedly. But when I pull out the sausage with the thick, jelly-like substance clinging to it, I immediately lean out the open door and start throwing up. Jake jumps out of the way with a shout of surprise, and then comes over to help me back out of the truck when he sees I'm close to falling out.

  He helps me to the curb where I collapse, and throw up a few more times. He walks away and comes back with a bottle of water that I take and sip slowly.

  "Shit, Canada. I'm sorry, baby, I didn't even think. Maybe you should wait to eat, and maybe eat something besides what I gave you."

  Ya think!

  But I nod and smile up at him before dropping my head and willing my stomach to stop spinning. Finally, I tell him I think I'm better now and he helps me back in the truck. We leave the rest stop behind and get back on the highway, but my stomach still spins and the nausea is getting worse.

  At this particular moment I don't care how I feel about Jake, his leg is available and I'm sick, so I use it as my pillow when I lie down. I don't care when his hand comes down to rest on my hip, I don't care that doing all of this will make him think I do care for him. Isn't that pretty much what I have to do anyway?

  I close my eyes, praying and willing the horrible head spinning and stomach spinning to stop. I guess I fell asleep, because now Jake is waking me gently and telling me it's time to get up. I push my hair out of my face as he helps me up, then look around outside. We're in the parking lot of a small discount store and I see no zombies, or even the living, anywhere.

  "Where are we, Jake?"

  "In a small town about an hour before St. Louis. I figured you would need some things that we don't have. So I stopped here since it seems to be zombie-free, at least from the outside."

  Damn. If it weren't for the whole crazy-as-hell thing he's got going on, he'd make the perfect man for some lucky woman.

  Jake comes around to my side of the truck and helps me out. When we get to the entrance, he looks inside the glass doors before opening one. He goes in first and I follow, then we spend the first several minutes checking the store and the back rooms. Nothing.

  It surprises me that not even one zombie is in here - but then again - if I were here when this happened, I'd get the hell out and go look for my family or find safety too.

  Jake goes over and twists the weak-looking lock on the front door and I grab a cart. I go through the hair product aisle, deciding I want my brand of shampoo and conditioner, soap, and all that good shit...if they have it here anyway. I actually find myself looking at the prices and a few times, passing something by I'd like to have had, but refuse to spend money on when it's not a necessity. When Jake laughs from behind me, I spin around and look at him, more than half-scared that he's flipping out again.

  "Canada, did you really just pick that bottle of lotion up, look at the price, and put it back?" he asks me with amusement.

  "Yes! Didn't you see the price? I thought this was a frikken discount store. I can't afford that and still buy all the clothes I need. I don't know how the hell they expect people to live..." I stop, realizing now why Jake had been laughing at me. He's standing in the aisle, one hand on his hip, one eyebrow raised, and his sexy little grin in place. I grin back in embarrassment and turn away from him, pushing my cart a little faster to get to the stuff I need further down the aisle.

  When I stop and start throwing in several of each of the items, Jake startles me when he leans over in front of me to drop an armload of stuff inside the cart. I look down and see all the items I had looked at, but hadn't been able to "afford." I think he's gotten every single one of them off the shelves!

  "Thanks. I'm going to get some clothes. Why don't you grab a cart and get the stuff you need while I'm doing that?" He agrees and walks to the front of the store. As soon as he's out of sight, I grab all the feminine products I can, as fast as I can. Of course, I know he'll see them eventually, but still!

  I leave the aisle and head toward the clothing, but when I get to the kitchen section, I stop hopping and look longingly at the knives, with their shiny blades of all shapes and sizes. But instinct screams at me not to even think about it and to get the hell away. So I do...fast.

  I go straight to the clothes and locate the shelves of sweatpants. Finding my size, I scoop up every pile of each color and throw them in the cart. Then I find bras, underwear, and socks and throw them in too. After that, I walk around each of the racks and just throw in whatever I see in my size, including PJs and nightshirts. Then I remember Jake's brilliant idea of living in the mountains and grab several bags of thermal underwear.

  I see Jake's head over the aisles coming in my direction so I wait for him. When he appears, he has a cart behind him and one in front of him, and they're loaded with mens products, food, drinks, and I don't even know what else!

  "You ready?" he asks me

  I nod and we head for the door. I stop at the side of the door, out of the way, so Jake can check to see if it's clear outside. After a good look, he nods and opens the door. I follow him and his two carts out, and when we get to the truck, I hold on to the door while he moves my cart. I'm expecting him to open the passenger door, but when he doesn't, I look back at him and see that he's staring at me. His expression cold, hard, and mean.

  Aw, hell! Really? Are we back to this again?

  I expect a slap or a punch so when he raises his hand toward me, I duck, throw my arms over my head, and let out a pitiful and scared "No!"

  When pain doesn't happen, I peek over one of my arms and see Jake standing in front of me with sadness on his face now.

  "Canada, I told you I wouldn't hurt you anymore."

  I slowly - cautiously - lower my arms. "Then what were you doing? I'm sorry, but you freaked me out."

  "I don't want to, but I have to search you. I have to make sure you didn't pick up something you can use to hurt me," he explains to me.

  Oh. Well, why didn't he just say that instead of flinging his arm at me? I don't like him s
earching me, but I'll take that over being beat any day. Thank God I listened to my instincts when I was near all those knives.

  So I let him search me.

  Finally he's satisfied enough to let me get in the truck while he throws everything in the back. I sit in the front and think about our time inside the store.

  The old Jake was back for quite a while in there. The sweet, caring, gentle man. Not the monster he's become now. Or had he always been a monster and the good Jake was just an act; or are there really two sides to Jake, and neither one is an act, but the vials were his medication to keep the monster hidden? Either way, it hurts. It hurts because I had come to care about the old Jake...a lot. I miss him. But now, even if he stayed the "Good Jake" how could I ever trust him, forgive him, after everything he's done?

  It'll never happen.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When he's finished loading everything, Jake again attempts to feed us. This time he chooses wisely and hands me a package of butter-flavored crackers and cheese spread.

  Works for me! I'm so hungry, I probably could have ate those slimy, jell―

  "Never mind!" my thoughts scream when my stomach gives a quick spin. I smash my hand against my stomach and breathe until the nausea passes. I quickly pull out the crackers and spread a good-sized amount of cheese on one, then sandwich it with another cracker. I pop it into my mouth, chew quickly, and swallow. I'm really hoping that if I just get some food in my stomach, I won't get sick again.

  By the time Jake has the back organized and gets in the drivers seat, I've already wiped out half the package of crackers. It suddenly dawns on me that maybe I'm supposed to be sharing with Jake, so I make another and offer it to him. He declines, saying he had eaten something while he was moving all the crap in the back. He doesn't offer to tell me exactly what he had eaten, and I'm sure I don't really want to know - or care, to be honest. So I go back to the crackers myself, happy that they are all mine. Mine!

  But two crackers later, I'm stuffed and I start worrying I might throw up again if I shove any more in my mouth. So I put the lid back on the cheese jar, and then put both cheese and crackers in one of the many pockets in the door of the truck. Stomach full and nausea gone, I lean back in my seat and watch the scenery go by.

  After a while I get drowsy and lay my head back against the seat, keeping it turned out the side window. Jake's hand is on my thigh - kneading and rubbing - but I ignore him. Houses pass by the window, some far from the road, some not. We drive through some very tiny towns where the only living thing I see are the dead. I see a few deer, a few cats, and several dogs. One dog is white like the dog who saved me back at my dad's station.

  I miss that sweet dog too. I wish I'd named her before I left. I wonder if she's had her puppies? I hope she protects my family - my kids. Becomes their guardian angel... I grin as I realize I've found her name, Angel.

  Jake misinterprets the reason for my grin, and squeezes my thigh that has long since gone numb from all the attention he's been giving it.

  "See there? I told you you're gonna be happy with me. Didn't I tell you?" he asks, his grin is as wide and creepy as that freaky cat in Alice In Wonderland. Damn thing gave me nightmares, just as this thing sitting next to me is doing right now.

  I keep my face averted from Jake, but nod my head, agreeing with whatever fantasy he wants to conjure up.

  Not many minutes later, we pass the welcome sign for St. Louis and enter a whole new world of chaos. It's incredible! Amazingly, people are still running and screaming for their lives.

  What the hell! Haven't they learned by now that all this running around screaming and shit does not work? Why don't they find somewhere safe? It's not like there's nowhere to hide out in this big-ass place.

  St. Louis is amazingly screwed all to hell. Wrecked vehicles - some having caught fire at some point before and some in flames or smoking now - make being able to just drive straight down the road impossible. I've been here during the rush hour traffic so I know how bad it was then...and, well, it's still that bad.

  Jake has had to stop, back up, find different routes and a few times make his own road out of whatever he can find to drive on. At one point we end up having to exit off the interstate that circles around the outskirts of the city and actually go into St. Louis. I quickly and easily realize that we're close to Busch Stadium before I ever see it. And I also realize the last big game was between the Cardinals and the Cubs.

  How do I know this? Well, the masses of red Cardinal shirts and hats, mixed in with the blue of the Cubs, are a dead giveaway - no pun intended. These two teams would rarely be seen hanging out with each other, especially on game days. Even when baseball season's over, there are still boundaries and lines that these two teams don't cross. But there they all are, side by side and participating in the largest cannibalistic smorgasbord the world has ever seen.

  I stare in sadness as a pitcher for the Cubs shuffles intently toward my side of the truck. His face is slack and his eyes are nothing but black voids in his head. His uniform is dirty and torn and a long, deep gash in his chest had stopped bleeding long ago.

  One of my dreams had been to meet this very man. Now? I believe I'll pass. Gotta admit though, it's kinda cool knowing someone famous is chasing me down; wanting me, drooling for me. I can always tell the story but leave out the part that he's a zombie, right?

  I twist my head around as I continue to watch him as we pass, but snap back to the front when I hear Jake swear. What I see up ahead has me repeating his swear word and adding a few more of my own. The entire overpass we should get on to get out of this place has collapsed!

  I look at Jake with my mouth open wide in horror. "Holy shit. So now what?"

  No, I'm not hysterical this time. Just worried.

  Turns out, I should have been hysterical.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  "Looks like we're screwed," he tells me as he slumps back in the seat, his wrists crossed on the steering wheel.

  I stare at him, shocked that he appears to just be giving up. Then I swing my head from one window to the next, getting a major eyeful of zombies from each view. And of course, they just can't ignore us.

  Jerking my head back to Jake, the rising desperation to do something...anything...makes my stomach clench tight. We're running out of time and― Screw him! I am not going to just sit here and be eaten by an incredibly large mob of baseball players and fans!

  I screech at him, wild with anger and fear as I claw at his coat and pull him toward me. Jake mistakenly thinks that I'm scared and want to be held before I die or some shit, because he wraps his arms around me and babbles soothing baby talk. But when I throw his arms away from me, put my face up against his, look him straight in the eyes, and let out a horrifying screaming growl - he backs away faster than hell with pure terror on his face.

  I shove him over me and toward the passenger side as I scramble into the drivers seat. Then I jerk the Hummer into drive and floor the gas as I spin the truck around. Jake is screaming and holding on for dear life, with one hand on the "oh shit" handle, and the other above his head on the roof. As I pass the hordes on both sides of us, I glance out my window when I notice faster movement than zombies should make out of the corner of my eye.

  Let me rephrase that, faster than normal zombies should make. The one I see coming straight for us is a Runner.

  Yep, I have officially named the two different zombie breeds. The slow ones are now called Shufflers and the fast ones are called Runners.

  I slow the truck as I take a good look at her. The Runner is a woman with brown hair pulled up in a ponytail. Amazingly, her glasses have managed to stay on her pretty little face. Ok, so maybe not so pretty now, but before the whole alive-dead-undead thing happened it was. Her black t-shirt has the name of a popular local diner on the front, and the name tag attached is easy to read even at this distance. "Amy."

  I heard they had some incredible food at that place. Oh lord, what I wouldn't give for some of
that...and pizza!

  My stomach gives a loud growl even though it's still plenty full of cheese and crackers - but I ignore it, ignore Amy, and focus on getting my ass out of here. I couldn't give one shit about Jake's ass.

  I get us back to where Jake had turned to come down to the stadium, and my stomach stops growling long enough to manage some flips of nervousness. What if all the roads out of here on this side of the city are blocked? What if we have no choice but to go all the way back to the other side where we entered the city? With all the chaos, will those roads even still be open?

  Suddenly I remember a lesser used back road that Will had managed to find on one of his "Oh shit. I think I'm lost" excursions. Praying I remember, I spin the truck into the next right turn. Jake screams at me to slow down. I do...after I finish the turn - but I still keep it at a good speed because I'm so afraid of getting trapped again.

  "Where the hell are you going?" Jake practically screams at me, pissed off and scared.

  "I might know a way out of here to get us on the highway to Springfield."

  "Springfield! We're not going to Springfield! Get us on the road to Tennessee," he orders.

  I swing my head toward him in shock.

  Sure didn't see that one coming.

  Son of a bitch!

  Amazingly enough, I find the road to take us to the highway, but instead of turning left toward Springfield, I turn right to Tennessee.

  Damn you, Jake! Damn you!

  Before we can actually make it past St. Louis, we run into another crowd of zombies - but this time, there are no other routes we can take. This part of the highway has no roads leading from it, just a straight highway with a big bridge. Of course, the horde is on the bridge. Where else? But there isn't as many and they aren't clustered together as tightly as they were back at the stadium, so we should be able to get through without too much trouble.

 

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