Tainted Reality (The Rememdium Series Book 2)

by Ashley Fontainne

  Gerald’s touch with sanity snapped. Before Richardson uttered another sound, he was on him. The blade was thick, sharp, and honed to perfection. With one swift stab, the cold steel penetrated the soft tissue at Richardson’s temple, sliding in as easily as a hot knife through warm butter. When the hilt of the weapon reached the boy’s skull, Gerald jerked the handle, scrambling the kid’s brains.

  Pulling the blade free, Gerald reached over, unlocked the door, and kicked Richardson’s limp body out of the front seat. Scooting over to take his place, Gerald looked back over to Bennett. “Any of you other pussies want to express your opinions before we head out?”

  No verbal responses, only blank stares of shock.

  “Good. Time to move out. Follow my lead. Let’s finish up our directive then head home. After what we’ve been through today, we deserve a bit of rest and relaxation.”

  Gerald put the Humvee in drive and led the way toward Walmart, not even trying to dodge the dead and dying littering the highway. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he noticed some of the lurchers stopped, distracted by closer meat.

  A few stragglers unwilling to join the party wouldn’t matter.

  There were hundreds of others who would, and they were following the Humvees like flies to rancid meat.

  DEFENSIVE MANEUVERS - Saturday - December 20th – 2:35 p.m.

  Walt Addison crouched down on the roof, peering through the scope of the rifle. Turner was on his left, Martha on his right. Though the situation was dire, Walt took comfort at the knowledge he was surrounded by his family in case this was the end. Less than five feet away were Curt, Bailey, Allsop, Newberry, and a few others, each fully armed. Footsteps crunched behind him. Walt knew they belonged to tens of others who’d secured weapons and scrambled up to help.

  “I count forty-two inside those six Humvees,” Curt whispered after lowering the binoculars. “Dammit! I told you we should have taken their weapons!”

  “We ain’t cold-blooded killers like you, Curt,” Martha shot back. “But I guess that’s gonna change here in a few minutes.”

  “Chief said not to shoot them unless she gives the order,” Turner added.

  Curt set the binoculars down and slunk to his belly. He trained his rifle on the closest Humvee. “Yeah, well she ain’t here to stop me.”

  “Wrong,” Reed Newberry said. “I’m here, and I swear Curt, if you fire one bullet in their direction, I’ll take you out myself.”

  “So much for workin’ together as a group,” Turner muttered.

  “Y’all need to remember which group poses the biggest threat,” Walt said. “Those corpses out there can’t be reasoned with. The alive ones can. For Parker’s sake, let’s hope she knows what she’s doin’.”

  The rooftop fell silent. All eyes were focused on the horde of dead on the fringes of the parking lot. Another large group was closing in from downtown. There were too many to count. Walt guessed around three hundred.

  Studying the movements of the Humvees and the dead, Walt concluded the soldiers were using the corpses as a distraction. Just like Bailey and Allsop mentioned earlier, the troops didn’t seem interested in taking out the bodies. It looked like they were luring them to follow. “Jesus—those bastards are usin’ the dead to distract us!”

  Kyle Pender stood, yanking a set of keys from his pocket. “You’re right, Walt. So let’s fuck up their plans.”

  “How?” Martha asked.

  “Pull them away and get them to converge in one spot. It worked before,” Kyle responded. “They seem to love my unit. Hold your fire until the majority decide to check it out.”

  Kyle clicked the fob. His patrol unit lit up, blaring, beeping, sirens wailing, and lights flashing. Walt’s eyes widened as the group at the edge of the parking lot turned their focus away from the Humvees and ran toward Kyle’s car.

  “Damn good idea,” Walt said.

  “Steady. Wait until I give the signal,” Kyle said, smiling.

  In seconds, his unit was no longer visible as the dead surrounded it, clawing, growling, gurgling at the noise.

  The Humvees turned into the parking lot, yet the undead didn’t seem to notice.

  “Now!” Kyle yelled.

  A hail of bullets rained down from the rooftop. Heads exploded and bodies crumpled to the ground. Soon, the area around Kyle’s car was covered in dark mahogany, the fallen bodies stacked almost three feet high. Their former neighbors, friends, and complete strangers went down in less than a minute.

  Ears ringing from the noise, heart pounding from the excitement, and flashbacks of his time in the military, Walt blew out a burst of air after the last bullet fired. “Good job! That’s one group down.”

  “Yeah, but the others behind the Humvees didn’t take the bait,” Reed said.

  “Probably because most of them were grunts,” Curt added. “They’re dead, yet still blindly followin’ orders. Sacks of shit.”

  “Quit yakkin’ like a bunch of proud hunters and get to reloadin’!” Martha urged. “Those Humvees only stopped while we were shootin’.”

  While the group reloaded, Walt’s stomach remained in a tight knot. He knew what was coming next and thought the chief’s plan was foolhardy and dangerous. Men like Lt. Pack couldn’t be reasoned with.

  Period.

  Of course, the stubborn woman wouldn’t listen to reason. Not that Walt was surprised by Parker’s attitude, for it was part of who she was. When she gave her little speech, he fought hard to keep from cringing. Though he agreed with a good majority of the words, when she mentioned rationing supplies—and waiting for more to arrive—Walt almost laughed.

  The woman was delusional if she thought things would ever return to normal.

  Thoughts about Parker’s lofty ambitions vanished when he spotted her frame in the parking lot.

  And the Humvees inch forward.

  She’s toast. Dammit! They’ll mow her down before she gets a chance to say one word.

  “Hold your fire!” Reed shouted.

  Walt’s fingers shook. He gripped the butt of the rifle, hoping Parker’s daughter was still inside with the children.

  He didn’t want the girl to watch her mother die in front of her eyes.

  Regina used the barrage of gunfire as the cue to slip out of the side door in automotive. While handing out weapons, Kyle told her his plan to lure the dead to his unit. She knew it would work and sure enough, it did.

  Rounding the corner by the garden center, she paused, watching the six Humvees idle at the edge of the parking lot. Just as Allsop and Bailey stated, they weren’t helping clear the area of the dead.

  Instead, they sat and watched. Anger rumbled inside Regina’s chest.

  How can they just sit there and do nothing? Said the fly to the spider.

  Bursting from her spot, Regina hugged the wall and ran to the main entrance. The blacktop glistened crimson, blood and flesh covered Kyle’s unit. Swallowing the disgust at the sight, Regina stopped and faced the Humvees.

  Once the shooting stopped, the vehicles moved forward. In groups of two, they scattered in different directions, a throng of the dead right behind them about one-hundred yards.

  Two vehicles headed straight toward her position. After saying a silent prayer, Regina held up her hands. Summoning all her courage, she yelled, “It doesn’t have to end this way. Turn around and go back to your base. Leave us be.”

  Over the loudspeaker of the Humvee closest to her, she heard a voice respond, “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  Infuriated, Regina shot back, “Terrorists? We’re U.S. Citizens fightin’ to survive! None of us are sick. We want to live, just like you.”

  “When someone takes out a soldier, it’s terrorism. The penalty is death. By firing squad.”

  “Since when does an entire community owe a debt from the actions of just one citizen, Lt. Pack?”

  “Since I’m in charge.”

  Regina took a deep breath, hating herself for what she was about to say. She had
no choice but to offer up the illusion she was willing to negotiate a trade. Her plan was to inch close enough so she could take out the leader with one shot and the others would either scatter or give up. “If we hand him over to atone for his crime, will you agree to spare the rest of us?”

  Silence.

  Regina noticed the lead vehicle stop, an arm extending from the window instructing the others to do the same. The remaining five Humvees ground to a halt. They hadn’t made it very far from their original position.

  A sense of dread—her new constant companion—wiggled around in her chest. The dead were closing in behind them, and any second, someone on the roof would fire. She had to hurry.

  Forcing her muscles to obey, Regina walked toward the Humvee, arms still in the air. She made it less than twenty feet before the voice she assumed was the lieutenant barked, “That’s far enough.”

  Sweat covered Regina’s entire body. Though she fought to stop them, her muscles quaked in response to the grumbling dead behind the vehicles. “I’ll ask you again—leave us be. I’m the chief of police here and will take full responsibility for those inside.”

  “That’s a risky choice, Chief,” Lt. Pack responded. “Any other time, I’d consider the offer. Not today.”

  The Humvee on the right shot forward. It spun around and stopped directly in front of the lieutenant’s. A man in uniform jumped out from the driver’s side, rifle pointed at the cab. “This isn’t right, Pack. Let it go or I swear I’ll shoot. I’m not gonna stand by and watch you kill these people.”

  What happened next was a complete blur. A male voice yelled out, “Traitor!” and then all hell broke loose.

  Hot, burning pain exploded in Regina’s thigh before her ears registered the repeat of a gun. The impact knocked her down and she fell onto the hard blacktop. Gunfire erupted all around, coming from every direction.

  Adrenaline in overdrive, knowing another stray bullet would leave her dead, Regina reached back and grabbed the handgun stuffed in her back waistband. Rolling over on her stomach, she aimed for the craniums of the dead. The soldier who’d stepped out of the Humvee fired numerous rounds into the windshield of the vehicle he stood in front of. Regina hoped he blew the lieutenant’s head off.

  The noise agitated the dead. No longer lumbering, they picked up their pace and in seconds, the parking lot was crawling with them. In the distance, she heard the voices of Reed and others shouting for her to get up and run. In the back of her mind came a quiet whisper to heed the instructions, yet the heat of the moment held her position steady.

  The soldiers inside the Humvees climbed out onto the roofs of their vehicles. They took aim and fired at the onslaught of the dead, trying in vain to stop their push forward.

  It didn’t work. They were grossly outnumbered.

  In horror, Regina noticed several undead climb up to the rooftops.

  Oh, God. Those things figured out how to climb?

  The realization spurred Regina to stand, knowing only a few rounds remained in the clip. She clamped down on her bottom lip, keeping the scream of agony inside while limping back toward automotive.

  “Rocket launcher! Get down!” someone screamed.

  Regina froze, gaze trained on Lt. Pack.

  Time crawled.

  Lt. Pack screamed like a wild boar and lunged from the door. Sunlight gleamed off the long knife in his hand before disappearing in the abdomen of the soldier in front of him. The man went down and crawled to the underbelly of the Humvee he came from. Another stood next to the other Humvee, a shoulder-held rocket launcher aimed at the store’s entrance.

  I can’t let him fire that thing!

  Calling upon every muscle to work, Regina shifted directions. She stumbled forward, closing the gap between them. She only needed a few more feet before in range to shoot.

  Another Humvee swerved into the parking lot then stopped. A man jumped out, holding another launcher to his shoulder. Regina stopped, took aim, and fired at the one closest to her position.

  She aimed for the bandaged wound on the man’s shoulder and hit her target.

  It didn’t matter.

  The impact of the bullet made the man’s torso shift right, yet didn’t stop him from depressing the trigger. A loud whoosh followed by a trail of smoke and fire blew from the mouth of the weapon. Rather than hitting the main entrance, the missile shot through the chain-link fencing surrounding lawn and garden.

  The force of the blast knocked Regina backward. She felt her body fly through the air for what seemed like hours.

  God, please take care of my family.

  It was the last thought in Regina’s mind before she slammed into the ground.

  Walt Addison couldn’t believe Curt stood and shot Parker. Without thinking of the consequences, he turned his weapon on Curt and blew a hole through the chest of a man he’d known for over twenty years.

  “You’re the traitor!” Walt yelled.

  There wasn’t time to say another word, or dwell on the fact he’d killed a friend, because over fifty people crammed on the roof opened fire on the crowd in the parking lot.

  From his periphery, Walt noticed Reed turn and run. He knew the man wasn’t fleeing in fear to hide or save his ass.

  He ran in a desperate attempt to save his sister.

  Focusing all his attention on the scope, Walt took in a huge gulp of cold air and let it out in a slow, even stream. The action helped control the shakes so he wouldn’t miss his targets. The dead dropped in droves from the spray of bullets from his rifle and the others on the roof.

  Another Humvee pulled into the parking lot at the exact moment Walt saw Pack jump from his perch inside the confines of his Humvee. In the blink of an eye, the cruel bastard gutted the soldier standing near the front of the Humvee.

  “Fucker! I’ll get you,” Walt muttered to himself.

  Movement of another behind the lieutenant caught Walt’s attention. He recognized the shape, and seeing one took him back years to the time in his life he’d tried in vain to bury.

  “Rocket launcher! Get down!”

  Walt threw himself on top of Martha, covering her body with his in hopes to shield her from flying debris and shrapnel. The explosion shook the entire building, drowning out the screams of those around him.

  Closing his eyes, Walt said a silent prayer, fully aware any second would be their last when the building crumbled around them. When that didn’t happen, he opened his eyes and looked around. Dust and debris hung in the air to his right. Rising up enough to see over the edge, Walt muttered, “I’ll be damned! He missed us!”

  “Shit! Another one has a launcher!” Turner yelled.

  Kyle raised his rifle to his shoulder and peered through the scope. “Got him—oh, shit! That’s Shaun Kilpatrick! Wait, hold your fire. Look where he’s aimin'!”

  “He’s gonna take all of them dead out, includin’ them malicious bastards in green!” Lamar yelled.

  Walt scanned the parking lot. Parker lay motionless on the ground about twenty feet away from where the explosion happened. Two figures burst from the smoky, destroyed area, dodging smoldering chunks of debris as they ran to Parker’s side.

  Turner must have noticed the same thing because he stood and yelled, “Jesse! Get back inside! Hurry!”

  The explosion from the missile launched three Humvees and countless bodies into the air. When they landed, two of the trucks burst into flames. Dark, thick smoke rolled into the sky, sending plumes of the blackness thirty feet into the air.

  “I’ll be damned! He took out all those green bastards in one swoop!” Turner said.

  Burnt body parts rained down on the parking lot. The plop plop plop as each one landed made Walt’s stomach roll.

  “What the hell is that fool doin’?” Lamar asked.

  “Gettin’ himself killed,” Kyle muttered. “Shaun, don’t! Run! Behind you!”

  Walt grabbed the binoculars resting next to Curt’s dead body. Sure enough, Shaun Kilpatrick ran straight into the mele
e, dove under a Humvee, and exited the other side with the soldier who’d been stabbed firmly in his grip.

  “Get to automotive! Now!” Kyle yelled. “We’ve got to go back down, see what type of damage the missile did to lawn and garden. Shore it up before those stunned munchers realize they have a way inside!”

  Kyle’s words slapped the group out of their shocked state. In minutes, the rooftop was empty as they all ran back inside.

  “Bailey, Allsop, Kyle, Lamar, Martha, and Turner: follow me to lawn and garden. The rest of you—form a line of defense around those inside. We’ll assess the damage and fix whatever hole created to keep those dead bastards outside,” Walt yelled as they ran down the stairs.

  The group broke off and scattered when they reached the main floor. Walt heard people crying, some screaming in fear.

  Racing down the aisles, they made it to what was left of lawn and garden. Dust hung in the air, bricks and various pieces of equipment littered the floor. Walt’s heart sank after surveying the damage.

  The outer portion, including the chain link fence housing mowers, plant containers, and various types of lawn care items, was gone. The glass doors on the left leading out to the courtyard were no longer visible. All that remained was the metal housing they’d been encased in, which hung in bent tatters. Through the dust, Walt had a clear view of the parking lot.

  And the dead, which were less than two hundred feet away.

  The place Walt had been hundreds of times to buy items for his own house looked like a war zone, barely recognizable from its previous state.

  Only because it is.

  “The hole’s too big and there’s nothin’ left here to use to form some type of barrier,” Martha whispered.

  Walt looked over at his wife. Earlier, she’d looked scared yet determined. Now, she looked downright terrified, determination long gone.

  “Mom’s right. We need to get everyone outta here before those things notice the way in,” Turner said. “Maybe over to the hospital or jail?”

  The heavy rock of worry sitting in Walt’s stomach grew into a boulder. “I say we head to our beta location,” Walt responded.