Gen Z Boxed Set

Home > Science > Gen Z Boxed Set > Page 12
Gen Z Boxed Set Page 12

by Baileigh Higgins


  Dean shuffled closer too, his habitual smile sliding off his face. “I think we’re just too tired to care right now. We’ve seen so much, and done so much tonight. This is the first time in ages we’ve sat still.”

  Chas nodded. They were all exhausted, running on no sleep and lots of guts. “I could do with a hot bath and a soft bed right now.”

  Vanessa sighed. “We all could.”

  Vivienne was fussing over her patient in the wheelchair, but every now and then she’d stop to shoot Chas a glare. It was obvious she was still mad at her daughter for coming to the hospital, no matter what anyone said. Lala had tried talking to her, but Vivienne just shrugged her off, not ready to be mollified as yet.

  It hurt Chas that her mother was being that way, especially after everything she’d accomplished that night. True, since she’d reunited with her grandmother, she’d let Lala call the shots. That was only right, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be coddled. “You know what the worst is?”

  “What?” Vanessa asked.

  “Being treated like a baby after everything,” Chas said. “I might be a kid, but I think I’ve proven myself tonight.”

  Vanessa nodded. “None of us would be here tonight if it wasn’t for you, Chas. Remember that, even if the adults don’t.”

  Dean sighed. “I just hope we get off this roof and somewhere safe. I hope my parents are safe, and your foster mom, and Emily and her folks. Grumps too.”

  “I’m sure we will, Dean. Get off this stupid building, I mean,” Vanessa said. “They’re calling for the evac now, aren’t they?”

  “I know, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned tonight, it’s not to take anything for granted, and that includes you.” With those words, Dean leaned in and kissed Vanessa on the cheek, causing her to blush to the roots of her hair.

  Chas groaned and rolled her eyes, but secretly, she was happy for her friend.

  Lala came over and sat down next to them, raising her eyebrows at Dean until he cleared his throat and let go of Vanessa’s hands. “Don’t think I’m not watching you, young man.”

  The twinkle in her eyes belied her words, though, and Chas risked a chuckle. “How does everything look, Lala? Are we leaving soon?”

  “Yes, it seems the choppers are on their way. They should be here in about fifteen minutes or so. Until then, we just have to sit tight.”

  Chas eyed her mother. “Mom’s still mad at me.”

  Lala sighed. “She loves you, hun. She’s just being protective, that’s all.”

  “Too protective. I was doing fine by myself all night,” Chas grumbled.

  “Not yourself, you had friends, remember?” Lala admonished. “Besides, you can’t blame her, sweetie. You’re all she has since she split up with your father.”

  Chas fell silent, knowing it was the truth. Still, I can look after myself. It’s time she sees that in me. Time to let me grow up.

  “Come here, hun. Give me a hug,” Lala said, opening her arms. “It’s been a tough night for you young ones.”

  Chas crawled into her embrace, soaking in her grandmother’s warm love and intoxicating scent. It felt good to be cared and loved for, no matter how grown up she claimed to be.

  “Thank you, Lala. You’re the best,” Chas whispered.

  But, no matter how tightly she held on to her gran, that door still bothered her. That and the noise that came from behind it. The infected still hadn’t gone away, preferring to keep at it instead. It was as if they knew there was someone up there and within easy reach. All they had to do was beat at the metal sheet for long enough, and something would give.

  Chas looked at the people around her. The sick, the elderly, the disabled, some whimpering and crying, others nodding off where they sat. They were sitting ducks but for the soldiers, and even she knew Alvarez and his men didn’t have enough bullets for all of the zombies.

  “What are you so fidgety about?” Lala asked.

  “Nothing grandma. I just wish the choppers would come now. I’m really tired,” Chas said, deflecting Lala’s concern.

  “Me too. I could use a little bit of rest,” Lala replied.

  Evidently, Alvarez felt the same. “How far out is that evac, Smith?”

  “Ten minutes, Sir,” Smith yelled back.

  “All right, make sure everyone is ready to go when they get here,” Alvarez said, but the next moment his head whipped around when a loud screech tore through the night.

  Chas jerked upright, her eyes wide and her heart banging like a wooden drum. “What’s that.”

  “I don’t know, hun,” Lala said, getting to feet with her shotgun clasped in both hands. “But it can’t be good.”

  Chas’ gaze fixed on the metal door, and immediately, she spotted the problem. The metal was tearing around the hinges, hairline fractures running through the beaten steel. Alvarez had seen it too, and was organizing their defense, knowing the door stood no chance at all. It would give in sooner or later.

  “Get ready,” he cried. “Smith, stay on that evac. Tell them to hurry up.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Smith cried, fumbling with his radio.

  Chas pulled her knife from her belt, flanked by Vanessa, Dean, and Lala. After a few seconds, Vivienne joined them too, her face set in a determined expression and her hands clenched into fists. She gripped Chas by the shoulder. “Whatever happens, you get on that chopper, okay?”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Promise me.”

  Chas swallowed. “I promise.”

  “Good. In that case, let the zombies come. I’m ready for them,” Vivienne said with a wicked smile.

  Chas felt her heart swell with pride. No matter what, she could always depend on her family to stand up for what was right and be there when it counted.

  Chapter 22

  The door exploded out of its frame, the hinges splitting apart like wet tissue paper. The steel flap bent to the side, and zombies pushed through the opening, clawing their way through with little regard for each other.

  People screamed, and Chas gasped with horror. “No.”

  She was echoed by Vanessa and Dean, and instinctively, the three huddled together.

  Alvarez opened fire, clipping the first infected with a perfect headshot. The man sagged in the middle of the opening, blocking his fellow brethren as they tried to push around him. More shots were fired, and for a time, it seemed like the soldiers had the upper hand, blocking the half-open door with corpses and making it impossible for the rest to get through.

  It wasn’t meant to last.

  Like worms wriggling up from the damp earth after a heavy rain, the infected kept coming until the door broke free completely, splitting the lock and falling to the ground with a thunderous crash.

  The zombies took their chance and poured through the opening one after the other, some stumbling and crawling, others running full-tilt. Alvarez and his team kept up a steady barrage of bullets, cutting down each infected as they came.

  Chas quickly noted that they worked according to a system, the front row shooting until their guns were empty then falling back to make way for the second row while reloading. It was an efficient manner of fighting and ensured that there was never a lull in the amount of fire going toward the infected. For a while, it seemed to work, and the zombies were unable to make much headway, their bodies piling up on the rooftop in droves.

  Chas watched the entire thing with her heart in her throat, her mouth as dry as chalk. Without realizing it, her hand crept toward Vanessa’s, and they gripped each other’s fingers for comfort, exchanging terrified looks. She was grateful for the dim lighting which hid the worst of the horror from view, the only illumination coming from the single flickering lightbulb above the broken door and the silver beams from the fickle moon.

  Lala and Vivienne stood strong, their bodies blocking the way to the children. They were ready to give their lives for their loved ones, that much was clear. With a start, Chas realized her mother was empty-handed and felt for the carving
knife still attached to her belt. She’d carried the thing the entire way from Vanessa’s house and still had her birthday knife from Uncle Al, too.

  She gripped the handle and shoved it into her mother’s hand. “Here, Mom.”

  Vivienne glanced down, and her eyebrows lifted with surprise, but she said nothing, wrapping her fingers around the hilt and facing to the front with renewed determination.

  Vanessa and Dean saw the exchange and nodded with approval, hefting their bats while Chas gripped her knife with a sweaty palm, nervous, but ready to fight. The infected would overrun the soldiers sooner or later, and they’d all die if they weren’t prepared to kill.

  A gurgling cry sounded as a zombie launched itself at one of the soldiers with a shriek, latching onto the poor guy’s throat with a death grip. The soldier fought back, stabbing the infected in the temple with a knife, but it was too late for him. He was infected and would change within minutes. With a despairing look at his team, he shot himself in the head with his pistol while blood still poured from his wound.

  The rest of the squad continued fighting, but their fire grew sporadic as their ammo ran out. The continuous hail of bullets became a stream and then a trickle. The infected pushed forward, more streaming from the hospital and onto the roof in seemingly endless numbers.

  The hospital staff had followed Vivienne and Lala’s lead, ringing themselves around the sick and the elderly, each armed according to what he or she could scrounge up. One woman even sported an umbrella, its sunshine yellow the only bright spot in the murky gloom.

  Alvarez cast a desperate look at the civilians and cried, “Smith, where’s that damned evac?”

  “On its way, Sir. Five minutes out,” Smith replied, his face pale and scared.

  “That’s what you said five minutes ago,” Alvarez shouted.

  “There was a problem with the lead chopper, Sir. It had to turn back.”

  Alvarez swore before snapping a shot at a zombie that was closing in. The woman plowed to the concrete mere inches from his feet. The soldiers were rapidly losing ground, and Alvarez waved his fist. “Fall back to the helipad. Slow and steady, men.”

  Step by step, his team retreated, giving up precious rooftop space to the infected who poured into the openings with eager cries. Their faces were like those of rabid dogs, their teeth snapping at the air, and their eyes glowing with insane rage.

  Behind Chas, the old and the sick cried out in fear, many sobbing with hopeless desperation as the circle of death around them grew tighter and tighter. To Chas, it felt like they were being strangled by a noose.

  Gaps appeared in the soldier’s ranks as more of them fell, disappearing beneath the writhing bodies of the infected with helpless cries. Lala’s shotgun boomed, and a zombie grappling with Alvarez fell away, half its shoulder blown clean off. He finished it with a quick thrust from his knife and shot her a grateful look before launching himself at the next infected.

  The soldiers retreated even further, closing ranks around the civilians to keep the crazies away. With each passing second, the fight grew more desperate. Even as Chas watched, their ranks rippled as more brave men fell away, lost forever. She gulped and raised her knife, taking a strong stance.

  Vivienne threw herself at an attacking zombie with a cry of rage. Wielding her knife with brutal accuracy, she slashed its throat open before booting it away with her foot. Lala shot another with her shotgun, pausing to thumb more shells into her weapon.

  A teen girl slipped through the soldier’s ranks and launched herself at Chas, her face contorted in a snarl. Chas stabbed at her temple but missed, and the girl grabbed her arms with clawed hands and squeezed. Chas hissed in pain as cruel nails dug into her flesh, and she pulled back to get away from the teeth that snapped at her throat.

  It was useless.

  The crazed girl was too strong for Chas to break free. Changing tactics, she slammed her forehead into the infected’s nose. Cartilage crunched and blood spurted from the wound as the zombie girl’s nose broke.

  Chas turned her head away, trying to avoid the fine droplets of blood that misted the air. In the next moment, the zombie was yanked away, and Chas looked back to see Dean smashing its head into the ground with his bat.

  “Thanks!” she yelled.

  He shot her a grin and turned back to the fight. Vanessa warded off yet another infected with her bat, while Vivienne hacked and slashed at the zombies like a mad woman, backed up by Lala who didn’t waste a single shell.

  Above the boom of Lala’s shotgun, Chas detected a different sound. The rhythmic whap of rotor blades in the distance. She twisted her neck and spotted two helicopters flying toward them over the building tops. Her heart leaped in her chest. “The evac is here. The choppers are here!”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Lala cried, reloading once more.

  A barrage of fire opened up from the front-most helicopter, and the infected were cut down by the dozens. They fell like wheat before a scythe, reaped by the gunner in the chopper.

  The second helicopter moved in for a landing, its whirling rotors causing gusts of wind to buffet the survivors waiting on the roof. Their hair swirled in the air, and dust stung their eyes.

  Vivienne turned to Chas. “Get on the chopper, now. You and your friends.”

  “Not without you,” Chas cried.

  Vivienne’s face grew stiff with anger. “Get on the damn chopper now, or I will tan your hide so you won’t sit for a month. You hear me?”

  Chas shook her head, numb. Now that the moment had come, she refused to leave her mother, or Lala, alone for even a second.

  With a frustrated growl, Vivienne yanked the shotgun from Lala’s hands. “Get her and the others to safety. I’ll cover you.”

  Lala nodded, and she grabbed Chas by the arm and hauled her to the chopper. “Come, Chas. It’s time to go. Dean, Vanessa, follow me.”

  “Lala, no,” Chas protested. “What about Mom?”

  “Chas, stop fighting me,” Lala cried, forcing Chas into the waiting helicopter where a set of rough hands grabbed her and buckled her into the nearest seat.

  Vanessa and Dean quickly followed while Lala remained on the ground and helped others to climb in as well. The seats filled rapidly, and Chas realized with horror there wasn’t enough space for everyone.

  The co-pilot who’d buckled Chas in, signaled to the pilot, “Go, go go. We’re at full capacity.”

  The whine of the turbine intensified as the pilot took off despite Chas’ cries as she reached for her grandmother who still remained standing on the ground. “Lala, no!”

  For a second, their eyes met, but Lala was lost to Chas as they lifted into the air. The chopper swung to the side, and the co-pilot took up a position by the open door where he opened fire on the infected below.

  The other helicopter took its chance to land, and Chas nearly sobbed with relief when she spotted Alvarez herding both her grandmother and mother into its confines.

  Her relief quickly changed to horror when she noticed how close the infected were to swarming the chopper. Her eyes landed on Justin, and even at that distance, she could see the determination on his face as he tackled the oncoming horde with everything he had. He emptied his rifle and sidearm, lobbed a couple of grenades, and even resorted to punching them with his fists.

  His efforts kept the zombies at bay long enough for the last civilians to board, and the soldiers followed suit. Alvarez waited until his remaining men were in the chopper before jumping in himself. Holding onto the side, he stretched out his hand to Justin. “Come on! Jump!”

  Justin leaped backward with his hand outstretched, but at the last minute, an infected grabbed him by the waist. He was pulled down into the swirling press of bodies, his pale freckled face the last thing Chas saw of him.

  “Oh, no! They got him,” she whispered.

  “Who?” Vanessa asked.

  “Justin. He sacrificed himself so the others could get on board.”

  “Then he died a hero, kid
,” the co-pilot said, clapping her on the shoulder.

  With both choppers loaded, they took off, swerving away from the building even as the infected ran after them. The zombies, unthinking and uncaring, jumped after the flying machines only to fall to their death in the street below.

  With tears in her eyes, Chas watched the hospital recede into the distance, growing smaller and smaller until it was gone. It’s over. It’s finally over.

  Chapter 23

  Below Chas, Red Rock streamed past, once her home but now a dead zone filled with the walking dead. In the East, the sun was rising. Its rays spilled over the horizon sending streaks of mauve, pink, lavender, and orange across the clear skies. Already, it promised to be a scorcher of a day, and sweat beaded her forehead.

  They were flying toward the evacuation center, that much she’d picked up from the pilot, and she guessed they’d be dropped off and shipped to the safe zone along with the other refugees of Red Rock. If we get there in time.

  The next moment, Vanessa grabbed her arm and pointed below. “Look!”

  Chas leaned over as far as her seatbelt would allow and gasped. “Oh, no! Emily, Grumps!”

  It was the Red Rock Elementary School, and also, the designated evacuation center. Chas could make out its layout, the classrooms and hall, the office block and swimming pool, the sports fields, and bleachers. It was all still very familiar. She’d gone to school there, after all.

  Now, it teemed with the undead. They crawled over every inch of it like ants. The National Guard had set up barriers, fences, and gates, all now swarming with zombies. Buses loaded with people were being attacked, soldiers were taking last stands, the muffled pops of gunfire audible even over the rotor blades of the helicopter.

  Vanessa shook her head, bright tears leaking from her eyes. “Poor Sarah. Emily. They must be down there. And what about your parents, Dean? And Grumps?”

 

‹ Prev