Chas shook her head, horrified. “You murdered two people to save a thing that isn’t even human anymore? A monster?”
“Don’t talk about him like that,” Anke cried, her hands curling into fists.
“Look at him,” Chas said, staring at the boy’s gray, decaying skin. He smelled too. Badly. “He’s dead. You have to let him go.”
“I made a promise, and I’m keeping it,” Anke insisted.
“How? How are you going to protect him?”
“By taking him somewhere safe before I tell everyone about the mine. If they see him, they’ll kill him,” Anke said with a slow shake of her head. “I need him to be safe.”
Understanding dawned, and Chas’ lips formed a silent oh. “That’s why you wanted to come here tonight.”
“Exactly.” Anke looked up at Chas. “Try to understand. He’s the only family I have left.”
“He’s a zombie, Anke.”
“He’s more than that. He’s a person. A human being,”
“He’ll try to hurt you. Eat you,” Chas said with a shake of her head.
“Not if I’m careful.”
“You’re not thinking straight,” Chas said. “You have to kill him.”
“No.” Anke jumped to her feet, facing Chas. “I won’t.”
“Then let me do it before he hurts someone else,” Chas offered.
“I said, no!” Anke cried out.
She lunged forward and hit Chas in her stomach. Chas grunted as all the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She stumbled backward, lost her footing, and fell into a heap of scrap metal. A sharp pain stabbed into her side, momentarily paralyzing her. “What did you do?”
“What I had to,” Anke said, rising from her position on the ground, her face pale and set.
With trembling fingers, Chas prodded the area sending fresh waves of agony rolling across her body. She was shocked to find a chunk of twisted metal protruding from the soft flesh beneath her ribs, and she knew it was bad. Hot blood flowed from the wound, coating her fingers with the thick fluid. “Help me, please.”
Anke stared at her, not answering. Instead, she picked up Chas’ gun from where it had fallen and tucked it into her belt. Next, she helped her brother to his feet, ignoring his efforts to bite her. Without his hands and mouth to help him, there wasn’t much he could do and howled with futile rage as his sister led him away.
“I’ll come back for you, or I’ll send someone,” Anke said. “I promise.”
“You’re leaving me here? Alone?” Chas asked, her heart falling into an abyss. She pressed her hands tighter against the wound, bunching the fabric of her shirt to slow the bleeding.
“I told you to stay in the truck, Chas. If you had listened, I could have tied him up in the woods somewhere, and we could’ve gone home with nobody the wiser.” Anke stamped her foot with sudden rage. “Why didn’t you stay put like I told you? Why?”
“I…” Chas stared at Anke, at a loss for words.
“You should’ve listened,” Anke repeated before nudging her brother ahead of her. “Just…stay here. I’ll send someone.”
“Please, don’t leave me. I’ll die,” Chas said.
“I said, I’ll send help, okay? But my brother comes first,” Anke replied with a shake of her head. “I can’t allow anything to happen to him. Sorry.”
“At least give me the gun,” Chas whispered as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “Please.”
Anke paused. “Fine… I’ll leave it by the entrance.”
Anke and her brother continued their shambling, shuffling dance across the floor while Chas stared after them, unable to believe her so-called friend would leave her bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.
“I trusted you,” Chas called out. “I thought you were my friend.”
Anke didn’t answer, and the words echoed hollowly around her.
Darkness descended as Anke faded from view, leaving Chas alone in an alien world broken only by the yellow beam of her flashlight. Fear set in. Fear that quickly turned into panic. The mineshaft closed in around her, its walls squeezing the breath from her lungs. It was like a tomb. Her tomb. “I have to get out. Now.”
Chapter 9
Chas struggled upright, fighting to get her legs underneath her. Once she was on her knees, she lifted up her shirt and shone the flashlight onto her side. A piece of metal was lodged in the flesh, the point sticking out of the front.
With careful fingers, she tested the extent of her wounds. An entrance in the back, bigger than the front. A piece of steel the thickness of her thumb. She had to get it out.
Or did she?
Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember some of the things Emily had taught her. Nights spent listening to her friend carry on about first-aid.
It depended on so many things. Did the metal pierce anything vital? Would she bleed to death if she removed it? What about dirt and rust? If she left it in, she’d get an infection for sure. Not that she had anything to clean it with either.
That wasn’t her only problem either. If a zombie found her now, she was a sitting duck. “I need my gun.”
That meant walking back to the entrance. Maybe, Anke would be there too. She could reason with her, plead for help. It was a long shot, but the only one Chas had, and she forced herself to her feet.
It hurt.
More than anything had ever hurt before in her life. Not the time the coyote bit her, or the impact of the car crash. Not the time she’d sliced open her hand on a tin can, or even the moment she broke her arm when she fell off a swing.
This was different.
Intense.
Chas sucked in a breath as she clung to the damp, earthen wall of the mineshaft. Step by step, she walked back the way she came using the wall for support. Her flashlight shone ahead, but its light was dim, and for a single moment, she imagined it was tied to her life force. That it would die when she did.
“Well, I’m not going to die today,” Chas said, fixing her gaze ahead. Anger and betrayal fizzed through her veins, lending her strength. At that moment, she hated Anke with every fiber of her being. “I thought you were my friend.”
No, you had friends. Real friends which you left behind. They would never have done this to you. You should’ve listened to them, not a stranger you barely knew, a voice whispered in the back of her head.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s my own fault,” Chas grumbled, but the voice was right and couldn’t be ignored. “I’ll make it right. I’ll fix it.”
Chas bit on her lower lip as she half-walked, half-slid down the steep slope that led to the entrance. It took every bit of willpower she had not to collapse into a little heap and cry her eyes out. Right then, she longed for the comforting arms of Lala and her mother, Vivienne.
They were stuck in the so-called safe zone, however, betrayed by the very man who was supposed to protect the civilians under his wing. She could only hope they were still alive. That the zombie hordes hadn’t found a way inside yet, and that they had enough food and water to last a while longer.
If only Anke had spoken up sooner. Grumps could be here already with a team of experts, opening the mine and evacuating the citizens on top of the mountain. Julia and Alvarez wouldn’t have needed to go on a suicide mission.
Now, it was up to Chas to get help, to make it back home in one piece and rally the troops. “I’ll make it, Lala. I promise.”
A faint light shone ahead. It was the entrance, and her pace quickened. She reached the opening and scanned the ground for any signs of the gun. There was nothing. Frantic, she searched every nook and cranny for the gleam of steel, but there was no weapon. Anke had lied to her.
“No,” Chas cried as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She needed that gun for protection from zombies. Without it, she was too weak to fight them off. “The truck. Maybe she left the truck and went into the woods with Jonathan. She wouldn’t leave me here to die, would she?”
Chas didn’t want to consider the answer. She knew what it wa
s, but hope pushed her onward. Leaving the relative shelter of the mine, she hobbled downhill, nearly tripping on the loose stones and gravel.
Finally, she reached the spot where the truck had been parked. It was gone. Anke had left her to die.
For a few precious moments, Chas stood swaying in the night, allowing the rain to soak her to the skin. She wanted to give up. Wanted to lie down in the mud and surrender. She was hurt and tired, weak, and demoralized. “Anke! How could you do that? How could you leave me?”
Her knees buckled, but out of nowhere, Alvarez’ words came back to her, echoing in his gruff voice. “Pain is your friend. It means you’re still alive. Pain is your friend.”
He wouldn’t have wanted her to give up. Never. “I still have my backpack. Water, bandages, a knife. I can do this. I can’t let Anke win.”
With pained steps, Chas turned and made her way back to the mine, each step harder than the last. She reached the entrance, and its cold depths welcomed her back. She didn’t stay by the opening. It was too exposed. Instead, she forged ahead until she was right back where she started from.
She slipped her backpack from her shoulders and foraged around for wood. There was lots of it in the form of the abandoned picks and shovels. Their handles had long since begun to rot, at times even crumbling to the touch.
After forming a mound in a sheltered corner, she removed the matches from her pack to start a fire. She needed warmth, or she wouldn’t last the night. It took several tries before a flame took, and she coaxed it to life with trembling hands. At last, she had a solid fire burning merrily in the depths of the old mine, a welcome sight to her tired eyes.
She unpacked her bag, placing the items down in the order she’d need them. The bottle of water, the gauze, and the bandages. “Now comes the hard part.”
Chas lifted up her shirt and studied the piece of steel that had pierced her. With the knife, she cut away the sodden part of her shirt and wrapped it around her hand. She gripped the jagged back end and stuffed the collar of her jacket into her mouth. Breathing fast, she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled as hard as she could.
White-hot agony shot through her side, burning its way along her nerve endings until she thought her eyes would pop out and her veins would burst. Chas screamed around the material clenched between her teeth until her throat was raw. The metal slipped free with a squelching sound, and hot blood gushed out onto her fingers.
Working fast, she grabbed the water and flushed out the wound as best she could before stuffing a wad of gauze into each hole. Next, she wrapped it all up with the two bandages she’d brought along and more dressing. It wasn’t much in the line of first-aid, and she was sure to get an infection, but it would have to do until she got back home.
Home.
It was such a strange thing to call that hodgepodge of buildings filled with survivors. It barely kept them going. But, it was where her friends and family were, most of them anyway, and that’s what made it home.
Chas wiped away the worst of the blood before swallowing half of the remaining water. She needed to stay hydrated, and she also needed to rest if she hoped to make it back to base on foot in the morning.
She curled up in front of the fire with her jacket draped over her, praying for sleep. It was a long time coming, but at last, darkness stole over her mind, carrying her into blessed numbness.
Chapter 10
Chas’s eyes fluttered open, her mind dim and foggy. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to wake up. Wake up before she was found, helpless and vulnerable. Found? Found by what?
Zombies.
She blinked, slowly registering her surroundings. Her body lay on the ground, cushioned by a thick jacket. A bed of coals glowed in front of her, a small relief from the otherwise pitch-black surroundings. Walls of earth rose on either side and formed the ceiling, closing her in with their cold embrace. She gasped as her memories returned and with it, the fiery agony in her side. “Anke. She did this.”
With a grunt of pain, she struggled upright, the fire beneath her ribs growing into a raging furnace. Dried blood stained her hands and formed half moons around the cuticles. Her blood.
Chas tested the dressings on her wound, front and back. The gauze had held. The bandages were dry. It was a blessing for she couldn’t stand to lose more blood, not with the journey that lay ahead of her.
Already, she felt dizzy and disoriented while her mouth was as dry as dust. Her head swam when she looked around, searching for any signs of the undead. If one of them found her now, she’d be a goner, unarmed and injured as she was.
But the mine was quiet, abandoned. Even so, she was in more trouble than ever before in her life. Serious trouble. More than that, she had to get back to Grumps in time to tell him about the mine. Before it was too late.
Finally, she gathered the strength to stand. Mud smeared her clothes, and she hoped it had stopped raining outside. With trembling hands, she packed her things and slipped on her jacket with the bag over the top. A few swallows of water was all she took. The rest, a quarter bottle, would have to last for as long as possible. At least, she still carried her knife and removed it from its sheath, ready to stab anything that came near her.
With that, she set off, retracing her steps from the night before. At the entrance of the mine, she paused to search for the gun, hoping she’d simply missed it. She hadn’t. It still wasn’t there.
“Damn that Anke. If I get my hands on her, I’ll make her suffer,” Chas muttered, but it was a hollow threat. She was too weak to hurt a fly. She slumped against the wall, breathing hard to regain her strength. The short walk had tired her already.
With an effort, she got back to her feet and pushed on, one hand pressed to her middle, the other clutching her knife. The sun was up but hidden behind a bank of gray clouds. She picked her way across the clearing, and her foot slid sideways on a loose rock, jolting her torso. “Ouch.”
An answering groan emerged from woods, and Chas froze. Zombie! She’d just announced her location to everything within hearing distance. Perfect.
A shambling figure thrust its way through the trees and headed straight for her. It was an ugly one. Strips of flesh had peeled from its face. Its eyes were blackened pits, and its teeth rotted from exposure. A man? Woman? It was impossible to tell.
It groaned, shuffling closer as it reached out with both hands. At least, the thing was slow. Chas gritted her teeth and readied herself for a fight. There was no way she could run away in her condition.
She stepped forward and grabbed the thing’s wrist to pull it off balance. Decayed skin sloughed off his flesh, and thick slime coated her fingers. She gagged as bitter bile pushed up her throat. “Wow, that’s nasty!”
Not daring to let go, she yanked its arm again and stepped to the side. Once the zombie fell, she stabbed it in the eye with the knife, allowing the blade to sink to the hilt. She let go and danced back, hoping it was dead. When it didn’t move, she prodded it with her foot and sighed with relief. Reaching down, she pulled her knife free and wiped it clean on a patch of grass. She did the same with her hands, trying not to throw up the entire time.
The fight had exhausted her, and she longed to rest, but there was no time for that. She had to keep moving, had to fight against the pain and fatigue that threatened to undo the last of her willpower.
“Pain is your friend. It means you’re still alive. Pain is your friend,” she muttered. As she forced one foot in front of the other, those words became her mantra. “Pain is your friend. It means you’re still alive. Pain is your friend.”
The words swam through her head over and over again. Like a tape recorder that got stuck. She stopped twice more to drink water, just a sip or two. Her thirst was a raging beast that wouldn’t leave her in peace.
The gauze padding her wounds grew wet, and blood trickled down her side in a warm stream. Chas gritted her teeth as yet another wave of dizziness caused her to stumble. If another zombie found her now, she was dead.
> “Come on. You can do it. One step, two steps…that’s it,” Chas coaxed, staring at her feet as if she could move them through sheer willpower.
The road was rough, scarred and pitted. A pothole appeared out of nowhere, and she stepped right into it. Her ankle twisted, and she fell to her knees, lungs heaving as her wound exploded in agony. A scream escaped her lips, but she muffled the rest of her sobs. She couldn’t afford to draw more infected.
Chas closed her eyes, breathing through the pain until it settled into a dull throb. Only then did she find the strength to move on. The sun moved overhead as she walked, still hidden by the threatening clouds. The hours passed faster than she hoped they would. Night was on its way, and she had nowhere to shelter from the weather or the infected.
The light grew fainter as she walked, fading to a charcoal gray. The woods pressed in around her, the trees looming over her as if to beat her into submission. Chas started at every twig that snapped or leaf that moved, believing it was a zombie.
Despair weighed on her shoulders. “I can’t go on like this.”
Chas was about to give up when her next steps took her around a bend in the road. Her eyes fixed on the square shape parked by the side of the way, and she froze in shock. Her breathing quickened as hope filled her chest. The truck! It was the truck!
Chas pushed herself into a stumbling run, scared beyond belief that the vehicle might drive off without her. It didn’t, but she soon slowed to a walk as her senses prickled, warning her of danger.
The truck appeared abandoned. At least, she couldn’t see anyone inside at that distance. As she drew closer, however, she saw blood smeared on the windows. Lots of blood.
The hair on the back of her neck rose, and she looked around, searching for the telltale shuffle of a zombie. With her heart banging in her throat, she walked a few more steps. Suddenly, the crackling of undergrowth warned her, and she whirled around in time to see Jonathan charging through the bushes.
She barely had time to raise her hands before he was on her, snapping at her face like a rabid dog. The cloth covering his mouth before was gone, as was the rope holding his arms to his side. One hand seemed unharmed, but the other was severed at the wrist.
Gen Z Boxed Set Page 39
