Zombie Overload (Book 4): Determined To Live

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Zombie Overload (Book 4): Determined To Live Page 16

by C. M. Wright


  Apparently, now that I'd gotten us both out of Jake's plan to surrender and become zombie food, his manhood has returned. "Stop the truck and get the hell back over here. Now!"

  Hmm, I believe I've done pissed the man off again. Imagine that.

  I scoot over and Jake gets back in the drivers seat. He puts the truck in gear and moves us forward into the reeking clusters of undead. Vehicles litter the highway and all across the bridge, and I have a moment of panic when I see no opening around them to get through. But as we get closer, I see that what appeared to be a dead end was really only an illusion. There's plenty of room to maneuver around them.

  As we draw near a dark red SUV, the door swings open and a man comes running up to the truck, begging us for help. But he's clearly been bit on his right arm. The undead who've seen him have stopped mid-shuffle, and are now on their way over.

  "Should I help him, Canada?" Jake asks me with a little irritation, and a lot of cockiness.

  I desperately want to say yes, but I know better and shake my head. As much as I want to, we all know it will only end in the worst possible way.

  But he's just so damn cute! He's about six feet tall, is wearing an "I Love Bacon" t-shirt, and on his head is a fluffy brown hat with bear ears on it. He looks like he would have been fun, and definitely interesting - someone I would have loved hanging out with before all this zombie shit happened.

  Jake speeds away before the man can reach the truck, and I throw my hands on my ears to try to block out his terrified screams. I resist the urge to look back; feeling sick all over again.

  And now Jake feels it's time for a lecture.

  "We can't save everyone, Canada."

  You don't save anyone! How many of these poor people could you have helped - but instead laughed at and even killed ones who weren't yet bit?

  "In this new world we've been forced into, we have to take care of ourselves. We shouldn't expect anyone else to save us, and we shouldn't be wasting our time, energy, ammo, and risking our lives for people who don't matter. And no one else matters but me and you."

  The freakin' words that come out of his mouth piss me off. I can't imagine just letting people die like this. Who does that? And what about the people we love? As a matter of fact...

  "So you'd just let Greg, your own brother, die?" I hiss at him, forgetting everything but the rage from knowing that he definitely includes my family - my boys - in his ignorant summary of out to survive in this new world.

  My head flies to the side and - once again - blood gushes from my nose and my lip splits open from his too-large - too strong - hand. I gasp and cover my face with both hands. Almost immediately, Jake slams on the brakes - and then his hands cover my own as he tries to pull them away, begging for my forgiveness.

  His apologies and desperate pleadings of "stop making me hurt you" are met with silence and resistance. I jerk my hands and face to the side away from him. Eventually, he gives up and settles back in his own seat, frustrated and irritated.

  Apparently, his promises can only be pushed so far. And mentioning his attitude in regards to his brother is too far.

  Jake coughs to clear his throat - and when he speaks, his voice is low and shaky. "Greg's already dead."

  I turn my head so fast toward Jake, I have to take a few seconds to close my eyes and let them catch up, as dizziness causes them to spin in their sockets.

  "What! When?" I hadn't heard anything about Greg since the last time I saw him back at Rose's, but he seemed to be getting better!

  Jake sighs. "He doesn't know it yet, but he's already dead. His cancer is gone, but that doesn't even matter."

  What the hell is Jake talking about? If his cancer is truly gone - And how the hell does he know that anyway? - then why would he still be dead? Or is it that he thinks he's the only one who can protect him?

  "Jake, I know my family won't let anything happen to him. They―"

  He shoves his angry face right up against my own before I have time to react. I clearly see the emotions in his eyes - not pain over his brother, just plain pissed off.

  "Your "amazing" family can't do a damn thing to save Greg. In fact, because of Greg, your family may be―" he cuts himself off, deliberately not finishing so that I can fill in the blanks. The evil grin on his face tells me he meant exactly what I'm terrified he implied.

  I know what he sees when he looks at my face. Fear, confusion...fear! What the hell is he talking about!

  "Jake, please tell me what's going on, please!" I beg him, not giving one shit how weak and pathetic it makes me look and sound.

  He sighs and ducks his head, but I still see a bit of a smile on his face. When he doesn't answer right away, I have to force myself to keep my tightly clenched hands in my lap so that I don't slam them into his stupid face.

  I have no doubt that punching him will probably get my own ass killed - or worse - alive, but in more pain than I can handle. And any chance of trying to do something - anything - to save or warn my family will be gone, if I ever get a chance anyway.

  Finally, he raises his head but looks out the front windshield, avoiding me. "You'll see when we get to my place."

  His place? His place is in Springfield, Illinois. We're in St. Louis, Missouri and heading to Tennessee!

  I look over at Jake, even more confused than ever, and wonder if I have the nerve to question him again. I don't, but he sees the look I give him and actually answers me, giving me a break from his fist smashing into my face.

  "I have another place in the Smokies. The picture on the internet I showed you? That's mine."

  Seriously? Or is he further gone than I thought?

  "You're gonna love it there! The nature and animals; the peace and quiet. Best of all, we'll be mostly alone. We'll be able to work on our marriage and our bond will get stronger. How does that sound?"

  I can't control the incredulous look I give him. Fortunately, he doesn't see it. I'm supposed to answer that question...without being beat?

  "Um, sounds great, Jake." Hell, what else can I say? Wait...mostly alone? Huh?

  "Can't you just warn my family about Greg? Please, Jake! They've always been good to you. Please don't let them die, not if you can stop it!"

  Jake reaches over and I force myself to freeze when he squeezes my leg. My skin crawls under his hand and the material of the fatigues. He grins and looks me in the eyes as he slowly shakes his head no. I already know trying to change his mind won't work because of the evil gleam in his eyes; I've seen it enough to know. I turn my head out the window and pray like I've never prayed before.

  I know most of you think I should be stronger; should be thinking about a way out of this - but I've told you before I'm really not very strong - and did you happen to think about the fact I can't get around very damn well? And what if I fail? Oh sure, I know the saying "Even if you fail at least you tried" but think about that for a minute, would ya? If I fail, that means I'm dead. Whether it's the zombies or Jake, I'm dead. The result of this failure will not be disappointment. Nope, it will be death, pain, torture...death! Like I said before, something in me just doesn't want to die at this point. Sorry to disappoint you, but if you're ever in my situation - and I pray you never are - you can do things differently. As for me, I'm going to do what I have to do to stay alive. Whether I - or you - like it or not.

  Fortunately, Jake stays quiet for the next few hours, and I just watch the landscape pass by. I blank my mind, and keep my mouth firmly shut - afraid if I open it I may scream and never stop. When Jake's silence ends, and he asks me a question, I answer as briefly as possible. When he comments, I nod or shake my head. Other than that, I stay quiet.

  Eventually, I lie down on the seat and sleep, just to avoid him. When Jake wakes me hours later, I struggle to sit up and blink my eyes a few times to get them to focus. We're now driving down a street in a town that looks vaguely familiar.

  "Jake, where are we?"

  "Pigeon Forge, Tennessee! Huge tourist attraction. Nice peop
le, lovely views, tons of cool places to visit. Course, that was before the zombies. Now, the view is about the only thing left."

  My hand has been pressed against my chest since he announced the town's name. Tears well up in my eyes and my stomach feels as though it's got boulders inside.

  Oh god, no! Why do we have to be here? Please tell me we aren't staying here! This is where Will and I stayed on our honeymoon. We rented a cabin in the Smokies and spent the majority of our time here in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg, the next town over.

  When I find my voice again, I ask Jake if his place is here.

  "It's just on the other side of Gatlinburg, up in the mountains. You're gonna love it!" he tells me as he gives me a huge, disgusting grin.

  I turn away as my heart explodes into a thousand pieces. Of all the damn places in the world, why here?

  Jake drives through Pigeon Forge - dodging and ignoring the cries and pleas of help from those same "nice people" he had just been talking about. We narrowly miss being hit by a car full of more people trying to escape. The man driving reminds me of Jake - not caring who he hits, who he kills. Zombies and the living fly in all directions as he drives wildly. When Jake jumps the curb to avoid the crash, the man turns his head and give us a cocky grin.

  Jake swears at the man and raises his gun. The man's eyes widen twice their size and the car shoots forward as he decides he doesn't really want to mess with Jake.

  That dumbass probably just made his first wise decision.

  Jake lowers the gun, his breath coming out in angry bursts. He slams his fist into the steering wheel a few times and swears a few more times. I stay quiet, not wanting his anger to turn on me. That is, until a pretty big mob of undead start heading our way.

  "Uh, Jake? Not trying to hurry you or anything, but we might want to get going."

  Jake's head swings toward me and the fire in his eyes scare me almost as much as the horde of zombies that are getting closer and closer...almost, but not quite. I frantically point out the front window and he finally takes a quick glance out, before he swears once more and slams on the gas pedal.

  As we fly past the gray-skinned deteriorating walking corpses - and quite a few Runners - I sigh, believing we're going to make it; but up ahead, the crowd is much too thick and there's clearly no way around them.

  "Canada, you're gonna have to drive."

  "Drive? Drive where?" I ask him, my voice rising in disbelief.

  "Just do what I said, damn it! I'm going to use the grenades to get through again. You know the drill by now."

  As he climbs in the back, I scoot over under the wheel. My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I realize that this is my chance! When he gets on that roof, I'm outta here. Back the way we came, but avoiding St. Louis.

  It's almost impossible to hide the grin that wants to appear, but the threat of being caught sobers me up pretty damn quickly. The rope that's suddenly around my neck replaces the hope and joy of escape, with fear and confusion.

  What the hell is this? How is tying me to the seat going to stop me from throwing his ass of the top?

  I turn my head around when Jake's voice comes from the backseat. All the hope and joy shatters as I watch him wrap the ends of the rope around his waist.

  "You know what's going to happen if I fall, don't ya?" he asks me, flashing a huge cocky grin.

  Defeated, I lower my head and answer, "I'll strangle to death."

  "Got that right, babe. Ask yourself if it's worth it." He then grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head back. When his lips attach to mine, the pain makes me wince. He notices and gives me a scowl and an angry glare - but surprisingly, he doesn't hit me. I figure it's only because he doesn't want to give me a reason to say to hell with it and kill us both.

  I watch in the rearview until his legs, and then his feet, disappear through the hatch, and then I run my hands over the rope wrapped around my neck. The rope is thick and scratches into my skin; it's tight, but not tight enough I can't breathe. Jake had wrapped the rope twice around my neck, and the ends are both tied around his waist - so when he moves, the rope turns a little, enough to rub my skin raw. A couple times he goes to far in one direction or the other, which causes me to gag.

  He bangs on the roof of the truck and I start forward, slowly. The zombies are heading for us from all directions now, but all we need is to go forward. As Jake blows zombie parts and liquids all over the streets, I don't even jump from the explosions anymore.

  Probably because I'm desperately trying to drive without killing Jake - only because it will kill me too - and searching for a forgotten knife, or something, to cut these damn ropes with.

  I get so involved looking for a way to escape, that I don't even realize when I glance up that the way is fairly clear. I don't realize the grenades have stopped. I don't realize Jake is sitting right behind me, watching me - but his deep voice right next to my ear, asking me what I'm looking for, has me screaming and terrified.

  Jake doesn't respond to my reaction, but orders me to pull over as he unties the rope from himself, then loosens and lifts it off my head. I scramble to my side of the truck - almost wild with fear, knowing he's going to seriously hurt me now.

  But Jake does nothing. And that makes me even more nervous.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I try to discreetly keep at least one eye on Jake as he drives us the rest of the way out of town. I feel something thick and sticky trickle down my shirt and onto my chest. I swipe across the stickiness and am shocked to see bright red blood coating my hand. Then I raise my hands to my neck and immediately jump and drop my hands when I feel the stinging fire skin that is a few layers less than it was just minutes before.

  Now the pain is quite noticeable when I try to move my neck in any direction. I think I understand why Jake is single, unmarried. Being in a relationship with Jake is painful as hell! And of course there's the whole crazy as hell thing he's got going on.

  I search for something to wipe my hand off on, but when I can't find anything, I just use my pant leg. Jake notices but still doesn't say a word; he just turns his head back to the front, a tiny tight smile frozen on his lips.

  We make it to Gatlinburg with no real problems. That is, until we make it to Gatlinburg. Gatlinburg is packed with the undead. And the majority of them are Runners! I've never seen so many in one place. My mind is so confused, that I'm not even sure why that should worry me.

  When Jake swears and says, "I should have thought of this. Pray to your god we don't break down now," I finally realize how bad this could get. I desperately want answers, but I'm too damned scared to ask. Scared of him, scared of the answers, and scared of why he would know the answers in the first place.

  Jake turns left instead of going through town - which is smart because I don't think we could, even with grenades. He goes straight past the last road into town and circles around to the northern side. Eventually, he turns onto a dirt and rock road that takes us up into the mountain. Sometimes we go straight up, but mostly its around and around and around. My side of the road is a straight drop off, which I do my best to avoid looking at after the first time. The road doesn't seem big enough for two vehicles, and the sharp turns prevent seeing what's up ahead.

  It's freakin' terrifying! Especially now, when people are being driven by terror instead of common sense.

  Trees rise up next to the road and seem to be everywhere else you look. The darkness of night makes this whole trip even scarier. I take a good hard look at Jake when I realize he's had no sleep yet. I really don't want to fall off this mountain! But he seems like he's used to this - tired or not. His comfort level does little to comfort me though.

  Finally he turns right onto another dirt and rock road, but this one has a No Trespassing sign at the entrance. Trees form a canopy overhead that make it eerie as hell. Except for the light coming from the truck, there's not a single thing but darkness. No stars, no moon...nothin'!

  I'm scared about being trapped in these mountains wi
th Jake, but I have to admit, I want out of this damn truck! I want my feet - in a cast or not - on the damn ground. One more turn and his house comes into view.

  It's a nice two-story log cabin. It's nice. That's all the compliments his house is going to get, I don't care how beautiful it is. After all, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be enjoying it.

  I notice that there's another building behind the cabin. It looks to be made from steel and concrete. Garage? Whatever it is, it looks horribly ugly and out of place next to the cabin the surrounding woods.

  Jake stops next to the stairs of the front porch and gets out. I haven't seen but one zombie since we got halfway up the mountain, but with the thick forest surrounding us, I don't feel it's safe to say that there's positively none here.

  Jake helps me out of the truck and lifts me up in his arms to carry me up the stairs. At the top, he insists on carrying me over the threshold, "since we're newlyweds and all." Once inside the house, he finally sets me down. I lean against the wall next to the door and look around as he starts getting everything out of the truck.

  The front door opens straight into a large living area. A fireplace, sofa, matching set of chairs, tables - all log-style décor - fill the room. The kitchen to the left and the bathroom off the kitchen are all country-cabin style as well. Stairs made from logs rise up in between the living room and kitchen and when I see legs descending them, my heart stops for a few beats until the face of a beautiful red-head appears. A beautiful live red-head.

  I can't imagine how much more beautiful she would be if she were to smile instead of looking as though she stepped in dog shit when she sees me. She doesn't say a word to me as she stares me down as she walks right past me and out to greet Jake. I turn and watch her as she goes up and wraps her arms around Jake's neck and pulls him down for a kiss that clearly says they've done that, and then some, many times before.

  After the kiss, Jake pulls her arms off of him and steps back. "I'm married now, Jordan."

 

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