Chapter Four
The boxer bares his sharp teeth in a loud snarl, and I instantly cringe. In the span of a few short seconds, a bunch of different emotions swirl through my mind: fear, anger, helplessness, sadness, and strangely enough, relief.
Being eaten alive by a dog is not how I would choose to leave this life, but I can’t help but think at least this way I won’t become a zombie. However, I don’t have to worry about harming anyone I love, because there’s nobody left. I’m an only child, and my parents both died in the first wave of zombies. I’ve had a few months to mourn their loss.
There’s nobody to mourn me…
There’s a shot, and the boxer yelps and rolls off of me. There’s a second shot, and no yelp. It’s a mercy shot, to put the dog out of its misery. For a second, all I can do is lie there on the floor, staring up at the spot where just seconds ago, a dog was about to rip out my throat.
I just focus on evening out my breathing, and calming my racing heart. I’ve had a lot of close calls, especially recently with the Warriors, but this was so much more real. That dog could have killed me and, if my savior hadn’t shown up when they did, I’d be dead right now.
When I glance at the door to the store, I’m surprised to see Ryder standing there with an assault rifle in his hands. It’s sleek, black, and incredibly dangerous looking. Even scarier is that he looks like he knows how to use one, and has been doing it for years.
“What are you doing still sitting there on the floor? Get up!”
I don’t need to be told twice. The appearance of Ryder has calmed my nerves, and I jump to my feet and retrieve my baseball bat. Ryder follows closely behind me, double checking everything I’ve already checked. That annoys me, but I keep my mouth shut since he just saved my life.
“What are you looking for?” he asks, shifting his rifle. “Maybe I can help.”
“Anything in a can.”
Finally I come to the aisle where the canned goods are kept. Unzipping my backpack, I start to shove cans of tuna in. During the last few months, I’ve cleaned out quite a few grocery stores, and this one is running on empty. All in all, there are six cans of tuna, three green beans, four cans of spam, twelve small cans of Vienna sausages, a few cans of soup, fruit cocktail, and eight cans of spaghettio’s.
There are about forty cans of food in total, and that seems like a lot, but it won’t feed us for long. The three of us could go through three or four cans a day, which equals about eight to ten days. If we don’t find food when we get to where we’re going, we could starve.
“Is there bottled water nearby?”
“The aisle in front of us should have some Fiji water. Make yourself useful and grab some.”
He gives me a look, and I think for a second he wants to object. Instead, he just shakes his head, mutters something that sounds like brat, and heads over to the next aisle. While he’s gone, I sling the backpack over my shoulders, grab the duffel bag, and start walking.
The duffel bag is only partly filled, and I don’t like leaving the store when I can grab more. The more I take now, the longer I can go without having to return to town and risk being eaten, mauled, shot, or raped. But, this place is pretty much empty of usable things, and I don’t want to dillydally.
When I pass the door, I stop, and back up a few steps. Sitting there in front of the store is a large, black SUV, which wasn’t there a few minutes ago. That thing’s a beast. There’s no way I missed it on my way in, which means that must be what Ryder chose, out of all the available cars in the city.
“It’s a Chevy Tahoe Hybrid. It seats eight people, and has a shit load of cargo space. Plus, it’s not too bad to look at,” he says with a wink. “Come on; help me load this water into the back.”
I open the hatch and toss my two bags inside. Ryder joins me, carrying two boxes of water, each one containing six half-liter bottles. “There’s two more in the aisle still.”
I head back into the store, trying not to look at the fresh blood from the dog, and grab the two remaining cases of water. With four cases loaded into the back of the truck, we have twenty-four bottles of clean, drinkable water. Again, that seems like a lot but, between the three of us, it won’t last long.
“Your hands are shaking.”
I close the hatch and look up at him. “What?”
He nods to my hands, which I hide in my sweater pocket. “Your hands are shaking. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say, heading around to the passenger seat. “I almost got my throat ripped out by a dog, and we’re on the run from zombie Warriors and zombies, but other than that, I’m perfectly fine.”
I hate the edge of hysteria creeping up in my voice, and I fight to push it back down. The last thing I need is for Ryder to think I’m a stupid girl that can’t pull her own weight. I need to show him that I can bring as much to the table as he can.
He glances at me as he gets behind the wheel, but doesn’t say anything. He just starts the car with a set of keys, and speeds away from the grocery store. “Where did you get this car?” I ask, turning around to peek into the backseats. There’s plenty of storage space for necessities, and room for more survivors, if we could find them.
“A car lot nearby. I figured the store owner wouldn’t have need of it anymore.”
“Probably not,” I admit quietly. “So, are we getting Reese now?” Ryder nods curtly, and his hands clench on the steering wheel. “You’re worried about him.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“I’m sure he can, but you’re still worried about him.”
He doesn’t say anything, just speeds up. There’s a loud thump and a splat that draws my attention back to the front, and I see blood splattered across the windshield. “What did we just hit?”
“Zombie,” he says with just a hint of glee. He speeds up again, and runs over an elderly woman with blood dribbling down her chin. I can’t help but notice the look of satisfaction on his face as he turns the corner and sees another.
“You’re enjoying this,” I accuse.
He nods once, and steps on the gas. Ryder hits two more zombies on our way to pick up Reese. He doesn’t look surprised to see the blood smears on the car, and just shakes his head. Ryder gets out to help him, and I turn around in my seat to see what Reese managed to get.
Reese throws a duffel bag overflowing with ammunition into the back, and sets two dangerous looking rifles next to it. He has another bag filled with handguns that he sets aside. Reese sees me looking and smiles. “Glock 17’s. Do you know how to shoot a handgun?”
I shake my head. “No, not really. My grandpa taught me years ago, but it’s been ages since I’ve fired one. I probably can’t hit a target anymore.”
Ryder looks up at me from the handgun he’s looking over and snorts. “It really is a miracle you survived this long.”
I glare at him. “I’m perfectly capable of survival. You don’t have to be a redneck superhero like you to make it in this world.”
Reese laughs, and Ryder scowls at us. He tosses the gun back into the bag and stalks up to the driver’s seat. “Come on, man. That was funny and you know it.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the look on his face, and turn away. “What else do you have back there?” I ask Reese over my shoulder.
He sighs. “Well, let’s see. I’ve got a couple of good hunting knives, a machete, two shotguns, a compound bow with twelve arrows, and more ammunition. We should be able to make it to Beaver Island with no problems.”
He closes the hatch harder than necessary, and I wonder how mad he still is about leaving. How does he not see that this is for the best?
He hops into the seat behind me, and leans forward. “So, back to the apartment?”
“No,” I say. They both look at me, and Ryder sneers.
“Got somewhere else you need to be? In case you haven’t noticed, the world ended some time ago.”
“This truck is going to be the only mov
ing car in the entire city. If the Warriors see it, they can follow us back to the apartment. We’re gonna have to park it a ways away and walk.”
Reese nods. “She’s right. If those asshole soldiers find us, they’ll burn the apartment to the ground, with us still inside. We can’t risk it if we’re gonna make it out of here alive.”
Ryder rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue with us. When he pulls away from the gun store, I lean back in the seat, wondering how long I can survive with these two brothers.
Zombie Island (Zombie Apocalypse #1) Page 7
