The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned

by Hetzer, Paul

  The thing soon realized that the bundle before it was empty and its prey was scurrying away. It viciously tossed the bag aside and strode toward the small boy, throwing out large plumes of water with each powerful step. Blood ran freely from a wound in its shoulder, yet it ignored the pain and the growing numbness in its right arm and lunged at the dark shape of the boy who was outlined in white foam as the turbulent water broke around him. Its good arm shot out and a clawed hand closed tightly around the boy’s small throat. It drew the boy in close, its mouth opened to deliver a fatal bite to his thin shoulder. Water dripped from its beard in rivulets, and its fetid breath wafted over the boy’s face. It let out an anticipatory growl, its teeth inching closer.

  Jeremy’s eyes bulged as the creature squeezed the breath from his throat. His hands pounded frantically at the water and streambed as he tried to pull free from the powerful grasp. His sight had begun to close in around him when his hand touched a fist sized stone in the shallow water, and as the creature drew him nearer he pulled the heavy stone free of its sandy resting place and swung it up in an arc with all his strength. The rock collided with the creature’s eye-socket, crushing the thin bones that surrounded it. A guttural moan escaped the creature’s lips and Jeremy felt its grip release. He fell backwards into the cold water where he lay gasping for air and drew great lungfuls through his tortured throat. He gradually got to his feet while the creature flailed around in the stream, blood oozing down its wounded face.

  With the rock still in his hand he approached the big creature and swung again with all his might. The thing threw up an arm and the rock smashed into its forearm instead of its head, and Jeremy heard a bone splinter. It let out another roar of pain and lunged at the boy. Jeremy deftly dodged the weakening creature and ran up onto the bank and over to where his camp had been. He grabbed his .223 pistol and released the safety, spinning back toward the water and the approaching Loony. As it climbed the bank he put two well placed rounds in its hairy chest and watched it tumble back into the dark water – dead.

  The crack from the shots still rang in his ears and the ghostly afterglow of the shot’s fireballs filled his eyes when he fell exhausted, cold, and shivering onto the ground next to the remains of his fire. He wanted to cry again as the adrenaline left his body and the reality of his situation set in.

  “I’m not a baby!” he cried out to himself, choking back a sob and stifling his tears. After a few moments he got shakily to his feet and threw some branches on the fire, blowing on it to get the flames growing again. He then stood at the edge of the stream and looked at his handiwork.

  The big hairy man lay face up in the water. Blood, black in the darkness, still leaked from his chest, shoulder, and head. Jeremy’s sleeping bag had floated a few yards downstream and snagged against a jumble of branches that clotted the small waterway. He walked down and retrieved the heavy wet bag and hung it over a tree limb, trying to wring out as much of the moisture as he could. He decided to try and retrieve the 9mm in the morning when he had a better chance of seeing to the bottom of the stream. Still shivering, he hurriedly undressed from his soaked clothes and put on the spare set from his pack. Back by the fire he felt the warmth begin to creep back into his body, and with it the exhaustion, forcing him to lie down on the cool mossy ground and slip fitfully into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Steven McQuinn woke to the light of the early autumn sun streaming in through the picture window of the moderately large great room of the house he was camped out in. Beside him lay the small and shapely body of the girl who was his travelling companion. Kera was a dark-haired beauty barely 18 years old with large, soft crystal-blue eyes that conveyed a promise of youthful innocence, and generously full-red lips that sometimes bore a mischievous smile. The only blemish, if you could call it that, was a sprinkling of light freckles across the bridge of her small nose. She kind of looked like a slightly younger version of Katy Perry.

  She had grown up considerably since Steven first met her, what seemed like ages ago in the little community of Port Royal. After his wife’s death, Kera had helped fill the painful void left by his beloved Holly and over time she also helped patch some of the holes torn in his heart. He stood naked in the warm sunlight looking down at her sleeping form. He cared for her deeply, although he wasn’t sure if he loved her, or ever could. It was still too soon after losing Holly for that emotion to raise its complicated head. Unfortunately, that reverse wasn’t true. Kera had fallen deeply in love with him and had let him know it verbally and physically. The sex was fantastic, he admitted to himself. Maybe that was due to the extreme circumstances in which they found themselves, partnered with the very real possibility of death lurking around each corner. They coupled every evening and morning that chance allowed them. They both savored the warm contact and passion of their lean bodies during their lovemaking sessions. It was the only good they seemed to find in this new nightmarish world.

  Steven wound his way back to the bathroom and relieved himself, grabbing a handful of trailmix and stuffing it in his mouth on his way through the kitchen. He lightly stepped over the still sleeping form of Kera and stood again before the great window and stared out at the rising golden globe of the sun and wondered if his son was watching it also. He missed him terribly and his one and only goal in life was to be repatriated with his boy at any cost. It had been over two months since he had last seen Jeremy. However, over the course of his and Kera’s travels they had found signs that he had passed ahead of them; little messages that Jeremy had left for them to find. One of Steven’s last promises to his wife was that he would find Jeremy and see that he survived this pandemic.

  When he looked down again, Kera was awake and looking up at him with an impish-smile spreading playfully across her face. Her raven black hair hung past her shoulders and framed her porcelain-like skin in a halo of dark beauty. She stretched in the golden light that enveloped her lithe, naked body then reached up and grabbed Steven’s flaccid penis and pulled him down into her waiting arms. He didn’t stay flaccid long. They made quiet, passionate love in the warmth of the sunshine, taking their time and savoring each moment. After their climaxes, they fell apart, breathing heavily from their exertions.

  “Can we stay here another day?” Kera asked, snuggling her nose into his neck. “This is such a nice place.”

  The house stood deep in the woods on the side of a small mountain overlooking Interstate 64 near the suburbs of Charlottesville, Virginia. It was one of the first places they had spent the night that was completely free of Loonies. It was a large contemporary log home with huge windows facing the valley below. It had running water and a propane powered water heater and stove. The night before they’d had their first hot baths in what had seemed like ages. They also found razors in the bathroom and Steven had been able to get rid of his beard for the first time in weeks while Kera had shaved her legs and other parts.

  Steven pulled her youthful body closer and they entwined their legs with one another. “That would be nice,” he replied in a quiet voice, “but you know we can’t.”

  She turned her head away from him and whispered, “I know.”

  Though they had lost any sign of Jeremy further east of Charlottesville, nevertheless, Steven knew deep down in his soul that his son had passed through here and was still ahead of them somewhere. Their travelling was painfully slow, especially when they were forced to avoid ever larger groupings of Loonies that infested their path every step of the way. Trying to get past choke points, such as bridges over rivers, was even more hazardous and time consuming. They regularly had to raid homes for the increasingly scarce supplies of food and even sparser ammo, as they didn’t dare infiltrate any of the towns or cities that populated their course. The hordes were simply too overwhelmingly large around what used to be human population centers.

  Steven stood and stretched again. Without looking at Kera, he stepped over her to their discarded pile of worn, dirty clothing, sorted through the thread
bare garments, and began dressing. He finally looked back at Kera, who had rolled over onto her flat belly and lay, still naked, stretched out in the comfortable sunshine. Her shapely ass with its inviting dark cleft almost lured him back over to her, but instead, he tore his eyes away and gazed out the large window.

  “You need to get up and dressed,” he said softly. “We need to get back on the road.”

  “Ooh,” she cooed, “you sure know how to take the fun out of a beautiful morning.” She got to her feet, tempting him with her every sensual move. He tossed her her clothes and she quietly dressed, making him pay with his watching eyes. Steven walked to the window again and peered down the mountainside toward the highway. He pulled out their small binoculars and scanned the roadway. Nothing moved. The road was deserted as far as he could see. They would have to make a decision on which route to take. A set of rail lines headed west toward the Blue Ridge Mountains, far in the distance and roughly parallel to the highway to the south. It would be much safer, however, he thought the chances were much better that Jeremy had stuck to the highway. If they chose the railway instead and Jeremy was following the road, they would never catch up with him before they reached the farm in Southwestern Virginia.

  The farm.

  That was their destination… and Jeremy’s. A large parcel of land nestled at the base of a mountain containing an old farmhouse and barn. A place where they could make a home. Due to its seclusiveness, it would be a safe haven from the hordes of infected that permeated the cities and towns that populated the countryside. At least that was his hope.

  His thoughts went back to the decision at hand. What would Jeremy do? Steven knew that his boy had the GPS unit he had taken from the truck, which was programmed with the fastest route to the farm. It would guide the boy there via the roads, not by rail. However, they had talked about it before, about getting out of dodge in an emergency and how much safer railroad lines were when on foot compared to highways. Would Jeremy have remembered that and decided to take the safer routes? The GPS unit would still guide him correctly if he did make that choice, if it could still retain a charge for that long.

  Steven scanned the highway once more with the binoculars, confirming that there was still no Looney activity among the scattered and abandoned vehicles that dotted the road in both directions. He turned to Kera, who had finished dressing and was wolfing down some packaged peanut butter crackers.

  “We’ll stick to the highway. I think Jeremy will be following it instead of the tracks.” He made the hard decision and put it aside. “I would like to make it to the foothills of the Blue Ridge by nightfall.”

  “I thought the tracks were safer?” Kera asked, standing next to him at the window.

  Steven nodded. “They are. Nevertheless, I’m betting on Jeremy sticking to the road as much as possible.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, then turned and picked up his Colt short-barreled rifle, briefly turned on the EoTech to check the battery, and then slid it into the sling, cinching it tightly to his chest. He checked his Sig P220 .45 to make sure that the magazine was topped off and that a round was chambered before stuffing it into his drop leg holster. He then patted his cargo pants pocket to make sure the two extra magazines were still there. “Let’s go. Time’s-a-wasting.”

  Kera slung her shotgun across her shoulder. She had chosen to stick with her Saiga 12-gauge shotgun instead of Holly’s short-barreled Colt M4 rifle that Steven had offered to her weeks back, even though the shotgun only had five round mags instead of the 30 rounder’s that Steven carried for the AR. She had told him that she liked the effects the double-ought loads had on the Loonies compared to the smaller 5.56 mm rifle round, plus shotgun shells were much easier to come by. He picked up his military-style patrol pack in ACU digital camo and slipped into the straps, clipping the pack clasps under his rifle. Steven still carried Holly’s rifle stuffed in the backpack, despite the added weight. He gave a myriad of good reasons to keep it, although he knew in his heart that it was really because he was loathe to give up anything linked to his beloved wife. Sticking out of the pack next to Holly’s rifle barrel was his grandfather’s old katana sword. He had learned he could swiftly reach back and grasp the handle and extricate the sword from its sheath, which would stay in the backpack.

  Within an hour they had cautiously picked their way down the slope of the hill to the steep berm that led up to the four-lane highway. They scrambled up the weed choked slope and emerged onto the wide expanse of pavement. Only a few abandoned cars were scattered about the long stretch of what made up the westbound lanes. Steven searched both directions with the binoculars for several minutes trying to detect any movement.

  “I don’t see anything,” he muttered to Kera, who stood beside him shading her eyes from the rising sun as she looked back along the highway.

  “Always a good way to start the day,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  Steven had started noticing several weeks ago that the Loonies had begun swarming together in groups like flocks of birds or insects. It was becoming rarer to find them wandering around alone anymore. Like a ravaging swarm of insects, they were becoming more coordinated in their attacks. In his mind this made them even more dangerous. He hadn’t mentioned the observation to Kera yet. He wasn’t sure if they were isolated incidences, and didn’t want to frighten her any more than needed.

  They were only a mile or so east of the center of Charlottesville, Virginia. Suburban sprawl from the city spread out to the north and west for many more miles, even though it was hidden from view by the thick forest bordering the highway. They could hear the wild animal sounds in the distance from the throngs of infected as the creatures moved with the start of the new day.

  “Come on,” Steven said in a subdued voice. He started off at a distance eating pace along the sunlit pavement, scanning for any signs of danger. Kera kept back five or six paces, periodically walking backwards to look for any approaching threat from behind. Both had their long guns at the ready. Up ahead a long, flat bridge crossed over a wide, muddy river. The expanse was clear of both Loonies and cars. Always a good thing, Steven thought to himself, staring down to the home-lined streets that hugged the banks of the river further up from the north side of the span.

  When he reached the foot of the bridge he signaled for Kera to halt while he stopped and surveyed the highway that stretched ahead of him until it disappeared over a small rise several miles ahead. Five hundred yards past the end of the bridge, an off ramp gently left the road and dropped out of sight, disappearing down a hill past a stand of trees. Spotting no signs of danger, he motioned to her and they continued on tentatively, cautiously crossing the bridge span.

  Something didn’t feel right. There was a buzzing in the air, not quite audible, it was something he perceived in his chest, like a swarm of locusts approaching far in the distance. Neither of them said a word while they scanned the area. Kera now heard it too, coming from somewhere up ahead.

  “Baby, I have a bad feeling about this,” she whispered over his shoulder. Before Steven could respond, he caught movement coming up the off ramp in the distance. First, it was only one or two heads bobbing into view as a group of people appeared on the rise of the pavement, then more and more, until a flood of humanity crested the rise and poured onto the highway. The buzzing noise was their combined ruckus of babbling and growls. Steven involuntarily took a few steps back until he bumped into Kera.

  “There must be thousands of them,” he whispered with his eyes riveted to the approaching horde. He backed up rapidly, pulling Kera with him. Almost instantly, the Loonies in the front of the pack spotted them and started a mad dash toward them, screaming an enraged cry. It was like the start of a marathon to reach them; more and more Loonies joined in the chase as they swarmed over the highway in a seemingly coordinated movement.

  “Oh fuck!” Kera cried and turned to run back down the highway with Steven keeping pace next to her.

  “I told you we should have stayed in bed this morn
ing!” she yelled at him over her shoulder.

  “This way!” Steven yanked her to his right when they reached the end of the bridge span and they ran across the road to the wooded berm that separated the westbound lanes from the east. They sprinted through the woods and out onto the eastbound lanes as the horde reached the bridge. The crowd was so large that it spread out into the eastbound lanes and came on like an impenetrable wall. Still grasping Kera by the arm, Steven ran across the road and onto the steep slope on the other side that dropped off to the river nearly a hundred feet below. Kera took one look at the almost vertical-looking rock and shrub covered hillside and abruptly dug in her heels.

  “Huh-uh! I can’t!” she screamed at him, already feeling the vertigo from the height while she stared down into the river.

  “No choice, girl, and no time to argue!” He tugged her arm hard and they both slid down the loose scree of the slope. Kera fell to her side and dug in with clawed hands trying to control her descent and her terror. Dust billowed up behind them as they descended the hill practically out of control. The swarm turned as one and flowed like a living waterfall over the side of the concrete bridge railings, pouring through the air in a tangle of arms and legs. Some splashed into the river, the smacks and cracks of bodies crashing into those below them echoing off the banks. Steven stared in amazement, fighting to maintain a controlled slide through the loose talus of the steep slope. Bodies broke and bounced off the embankment before rolling lifeless into the boiling water. Other Loonies rolled down the slope around him and Kera, smacking into the riverbank and bouncing into the churning water.

  Except for one.

  A large male Loony in the remnants of a plaid pajama top stood with its hands tightly gripping the railing of the overpass staring at them with blazing red eyes, its jaws snapping open and closed spasmodically. It simply stood there watching them while its brethren flowed around him. Steven glanced at the man briefly and felt a chill race down his spine, then was forced to move his attention back to the bodies falling around him.