Behind us, Aaron slams down on the brakes, and the truck squeals to a stop, skidding and taking out a few zombies in the process. I moan, opening my eyes to see broken out glass beneath me, along with cans of food scattered across the roof. My back screams at me, and I silently pray that it’s not fractured or permanently injured. I can’t afford to just sit here and not risk moving though, so I brace myself on my arms and force myself into a kneeling position.
My back cracks a second time and I hiss. Glass tinkles as it falls from my hair, and I brush loose strands aside, giving myself a clear field of vision. Gingerly, I turn my head to look into the front seat, hoping I don’t strain the muscles in my back and neck anymore than they already might be. Nothing pops or feels torn, which I’m thankful for. But I have others to worry about aside from just myself.
Ryder is hanging upside down, still belted to his seat. He coughs and begins to stir, his hands moving around his sides, searching for the release on his seatbelt. Hannah lies unconscious beneath him, slumped against the curve of the roof. She moans quietly, her eyelids fluttering but remaining closed. Reese is lying in the back near me, splayed across the roof just like me. I crawl forward, pulling Hannah out of Ryder’s way so he can safely drop to the roof once he’s free from his seat.
He undoes his seatbelt and drops to the roof, landing on his back with a groan of pain and a curse. “Everybody alive?” he asks, craning his neck to look into the backseat.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly, my eyes roaming over to Reese. “I think he’s okay, too.” As I speak, Reese’s eyes shoot open and he sits bolt upright, startling me. Before I can ask if he’s okay, footsteps rush over, and I hear Madison’s worried voice.
“Sam? Are you guys okay?”
“What happened?” Aaron asks, crouching down to peek into the opposite side of the jeep.
“We’re okay. Hannah freaked out when she saw how many zombies there were. It all happened so fast. One second she was fine and the next she was hyperventilating and screaming and she made a grab for the steering wheel, jerked it right out of Ryder’s hands and sent us crashing.”
“Sounds kind of like PTSD,” Aaron comments thoughtfully. “We don’t have time to worry about her now though. This area is hot and we need to get you out of here. Now!”
To prove the importance of his words, there’s a loud gunshot from nearby, and I recognize the sound of Todd’s shotgun. “We need to leave, now!” he shouts, firing again.
“I’ll help them,” Aaron says to Madison. “Go back up Todd. Keep them back as long as you can. This isn’t going to be easy. Not only do we have to be wary of injured necks and spines, but Hannah is still unconscious.”
Madison darts off without a word, and I hear another shot a second later as she joins Todd. Aaron turns to me first and offers me a hand. “Come on, we gotta get you out of here. This place will be swarmed in a couple of minutes, tops. Every zombie for a good distance heard that crash and is coming this way.”
I take Aaron’s hand and let him guide me through the busted window, careful to avoid cutting myself on any of the broken glass. As he pulls me through the window, I finally notice the steady stream of blood that drips down my face from a small cut to my forehead. Aaron steadies me beside the overturned jeep, and I apply pressure to my forehead, wincing as pain flares up beneath my hand.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Help the others.”
I feel for my weapon, relieved to find my gun still tucked into the holster on my thigh. While Aaron helps the others from the jeep, I rush over to Madison’s side, taking out my weapon. There’s a dull roar in my ears, and I try to shake my head and clear it away so I can focus. My vision seems fine, but I wonder if I might have a minor concussion.
No time to worry about it now.
The area is being swarmed by zombies, coming from all directions. Both sides of the road are blocked off by a throng of the undead, meaning we’ll have to shoot a way clear and then hope the truck can drive through, cutting down any zombies in our path. It’s a big truck, but there are so many of them, and more are going to join them every second that we’re here.
I take aim at the nearest one and squeeze the trigger. He drops like a rock, tripping up the few that meander behind him. More quickly take his place, and I move from target to target, pulling the trigger at a faster pace than ever before. With how many are crowded into the lanes of this road, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel—impossible to miss. As comforting as that is, a darker thought crosses my mind.
We don’t have nearly enough ammunition. Even if every single shot hits, we’ll struggle to make a dent! We’d need unlimited ammo and bite proof armor to get out of this unscathed.
I take a quick glance back at the jeep and spot Aaron carrying Hannah back to the truck. He sets her gently across the backseat before jogging back to the jeep. As he reaches for Reese’s hand, I turn my attention back to the zombie horde in front of me, firing off another shot. A woman drops, missing an eye and the back of her skull. Two more quickly follow her, before I have to stop and reload. While I do, Madison turns around, firing at the horde behind us that’s closing in.
My heart pounds in my chest and my breathing is ragged as I finally slam the magazine in and get the gun ready to fire. The three of us back up closer to the jeep, circling around it and using it for cover. We can’t hold such a large amount of ground, even though the thought of letting these things anywhere near our possibly injured upsets me. We make our area to defend as small as possible, standing practically back to back, trying to cover any blind spots that might get us killed.
As soon as Reese is free from the jeep, he joins us, perching atop the overturned jeep as it’s the only high ground offered to us at the moment. A quick glance in his direction, and I notice that his left hand doesn’t seem to be working the best, and I worry that some of his fingers might be broken, probably from landing oddly on the floor after hitting the roof of the jeep. He struggles to maneuver his weapon but he doesn’t give up, looking determined as he tries to fire as fast as possible. With each pull of the trigger, another zombie goes down and his body count begins to rise.
Ryder is the last to emerge from the jeep, and I hear him swear. I look back over my shoulder and see him bent over, clutching his stomach with one hand and bracing himself against the jeep with the other. “You okay?” Reese asks, never taking his eyes off the oncoming horde.
“I’m good,” Ryder lies. He looks at me, his face twisted into a grimace. “I think the seatbelt might have done a little damage to my stomach. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“What’s the plan?” Madison shouts, taking a few precious seconds to look to Ryder for guidance.
I can tell he’s searching for any kind of plausible escape but is coming up empty. We’re pinned down on one section of road. There are other lanes around us, but they’ve already begun to fill with zombies, so our retreat is cut off in that direction. We can’t go forward, backwards, or switch to a different lane. We’re stuck in one place with only one option remaining to us: fight until we’re dead. Take as many of them with us as we can.
“Pile into the truck and try to muscle our way through,” Ryder says, but he sounds uncertain. “I think that’s our best chance. We don’t have the weapons or the numbers to take down so many, not even if we had days and high ground.”
“You heard him!” Aaron shouts. “Everyone get in the truck, now!”
“What about the supplies?” I ask. “The cure is still in the glovebox.” The horde is approaching, not much more than a stones throw away and quickly gaining ground. We’ll be completely surrounded in minutes, and we won’t have the room to power through the horde, even with the truck doing most of the work. I can see the indecision on Ryder’s face. “Ryder, we need that cure!”
“I got it,” Ryder finally says. “Get everyone in the truck. Reese, give us as much time as you can.”
A horn blares from behind us. We all stop in shock a
s a large yellow bus with a snowplow attached to the front charges through the crowd at our back, crushing zombies beneath its massive tires and knocking more out of the way with the giant metal attachment in front. There’s a man behind the wheel with a full, thick black goatee that’s going gray and feverish, crazed eyes. He slams on the brakes, jerking to a stop not far from us.
An armored SUV pulls up in the path cleared by the bus. The door opens, and a man in an army uniform jumps out, gun blazing as he lays into the approaching horde. His nametag says Roberts in faded lettering, and I hear a gasp from Madison as she sees him. “Roberts?” Another man gets out of the passenger side, and her eyes get even wider. “Chad?”
“Holy shit,” Todd says, his jaw going slack.
Zombie guts drip from the snowplow, dropping in piles to the ground. The door of the bus opens, and a voice shouts, “Get in!”
“Everyone on board!” Aaron shouts. He looks at Ryder. “They’re friends of ours.”
Ryder ducks away, heading to the passenger side window to get the cure. Rather than getting on the bus, I rush over to his side, helping Reese try and keep the horde at bay. Ryder drops to his stomach and climbs back through the window, turning to reach the glovebox. While he tries to get in, Aaron heads back to the truck and gets a still unconscious Hannah, carrying her over to the bus. While he gets her settled, Madison and Todd try to salvage as many of our supplies from the back of the truck as they can. We can’t just let it all go to waste.
“Come on!” Madison shouts. “We need to leave! What’s taking so long?”
“The glovebox is jammed or something,” Ryder says, grunting as he tries to pry it open. I hear him pound on it, but it doesn’t budge. I grab my knife from the sheathe on my belt and hand it to him handle first. He takes it and tries to pry the glovebox open while I go back to shooting. In the time I’ve taken my eyes from the horde, they’ve advanced until they’re practically on top of us.
One reaches out for me and I shove it away, knocking it off its feet. Before it can get up, I level my gun at it and pull the trigger, splattering brains across the road. Reese stops to reload, and I look back down at Ryder. “We have to get out of here!”
“Get on the bus. I’ve got this!”
Ignoring him, I step closer to the back of the jeep, putting more distance between myself and the zombies. I pull the trigger two more times, dropping both of my targets and tripping up another handful in the process. More quickly take their places, coming up to the other side of the overturned jeep. I finally hear the glovebox pop open and turn, seeing Ryder slide out from the window, clutching the cure safely in his hands.
He looks at me triumphantly, and his eyes go wide as he looks over my shoulder. “Reese!”
There’s a loud thump as Reese falls to his back, yanked to the ground by his ankle. I raise my weapon, but the horde is on him before I get off a single shot. My hands begin to shake at the sight of the horde bending over him, all clamoring to get a piece of one of my closest friends. He screams, and my feet finally move, carrying me around to the other side of the car, firing as I go. Ryder is close behind, removing his weapon from across his back, not even bothering to fire. He swings it wildly back and forth, clubbing every zombie in his path in a desperate bid to get to his younger brother.
“Reese!” he screams, shoving zombies aside with his bare hands.
Long before he gets there, I already know it’s too late. Reese’s screams have stopped, and that can only mean one thing. My throat constricts, making it hard to breathe, and tears sting at my eyes, blurring my vision. I sob, knowing what needs to be done. I rush forward after Ryder, putting down any zombies he’s incapacitated with the butt of his weapon. He reaches the crowd around Reese before I can get to him, and as I watch, he goes to push another zombie away, but it clings to him. Teeth sink deep into Ryder’s forearm, and I scream, darting forward.
I pull the trigger and she drops to her knees, releasing Ryder’s arm from her grasp. He doesn’t even seem to register the pain though; he continues his desperate bid to reach Reese and nothing is going to stop him. Behind us, I hear the bus roar to life and come this way, barreling into zombies and sending them flying across the road. Zombies are closing in around me and Ryder, and I try my best to keep them at bay, but their numbers are too great.
Rapid gunfire cuts them down, and I look up to see the man in army fatigues named Roberts, along with the one Madison called Chad. They have more heavy duty weaponry than I do, and they make quick work of the zombies, clearing a path to the bus. Aaron darts off the bus before it even stops, grabbing Ryder around the shoulders and dragging him towards the yellow tank.
Ryder turns and swings at Aaron’s head, his fist connecting solidly with Aaron’s jaw. He stumbles but quickly regains his grasp on Ryder’s chest, hauling him backwards. I’m close behind them, keeping my eyes on the horde, taking out any that get too close to us. Most of them are preoccupied with whatever is left of Reese’s body, and I nearly vomit at the thought of it. I look for him one more time, and catch a glimpse of his jacket before it disappears under the throng of ravenous monsters.
“Sam!” Aaron shouts.
It takes everything I have to turn my back on Reese and climb aboard the bus, but I know if we don’t get moving now, Ryder is going to jump off and get himself killed. The door slides shut behind me, and I lean against the nearby handrail and burst into tears, doubling over as my stomach begins to cramp. My breath comes harshly and it’s hard to tell where one sob ends and the next begins. I know it’s not safe to just stand here while the bus driver forces his way through the horde, but I can’t force myself to move or even let go of this railing.
I cling to it for dear life, closing my eyes as I try to fight the sorrow that’s building up inside of me. My mind races as pictures of Reese flash through it. Everything he’s ever done for me hits me and I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t even think. All I know right now is that he’s gone, and there’s no bringing him back. Just like Naomi. Before I can stop them, his words hit me, unwelcome and somber.
There’s a chance—a pretty damn good one if you ask me—that you could lose all of us on this stupid trip. Could you live with yourself knowing that we were gone and never coming back?
Oh, God.
I turn away so nobody sees me be violently sick near the steps of the bus. Pain shoots through my stomach as my entire body heaves with the force of it. The bus rocks as it hits another zombie, and I wobble, nearly falling to my feet, but clinging to the rail for stability. The smell of vomit, the ache in my chest, and the pain in my stomach make me want to just collapse, but I try to remain strong. I’m not the one going to be taking this the worst.
I force myself to get to my feet, turning to locate Ryder. He’s sitting in the very far back of the bus, on the short seat that everyone in school used to race for so they didn’t have to share. He’s turned toward the aisle, his legs taking up most of it, and his head is in his hands. His shoulders heave with each sob, and I move towards him without thinking about anything other than how much I need to comfort him.
I’m aware of everyone watching the two of us, but I ignore their stares, their pity, and their tears. I pretend I don’t hear Madison crying silently in the crook of Todd’s shoulder, and I pretend I don’t see the look of misery on Aaron’s face as the gravity of his decision to force Ryder onto the bus weighs on him. My focus is purely on Ryder, and I slide into the seat across from him, leaning my head on the cool seat as I watch him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Time passes by in a slow crawl. I speak Ryder’s name softly, but he doesn’t remove his head from his hands. I want to reach out and comfort him, like he’s done for me so many times in the past, but I don’t know what to say or do. How do you comfort someone that just lost the last family they had, arguably the most important person in their life? Their father was an abusive alcoholic and their mother, fed up with it all, abandoned them shortly after Reese was born.
&n
bsp; In the end, all I can do is slide into the seat beside Ryder and put my arms around him, to let him know that I’m here. He scoots over just enough to give me room, and then he puts his head on my shoulder and cries. As we head through the abandoned streets of Chicago, I gently rub his back and whisper soothing words in his ears, even though I know it won’t help him. We just rock gently back and forth while the others deal with their grief in their own way.
Eventually, I realize that Ryder’s arm is still bleeding, and the fear sets in. He’s been bitten. He’s infected, and if we don’t get this cure to Detroit, he’s going to die and I’m going to lose him forever.
I take my knife back from Ryder, careful not to jostle him or the cure in his lap. Reaching up under my coat and shirt, I use the knife to tear away a strip of my camisole, hoping it’s decently clean. When I reach for him, Ryder flinches away, but one look at my face and then his arm, and he relents, silently handing me his arm. I bandage the wound as tightly as I can, and he hisses in pain. Before I can apologize, Ryder turns away from me, staring out the window at the city around us.
I’ve done all I can to comfort him for now, and until we get some privacy later to let it all out, there’s nothing more that can be done. Taking the cure from Ryder’s lap, I vacate the back seat, giving him a little bit of alone time. Aaron is seated up front, talking in a hushed whisper with the bus driver, and I slide into the seat across the aisle from him.
“Sam, this is our friend, Allen. He really helped us out back in New York, and again when we reached the base. He’s going to take us back to the safe haven Dr. Richards told us about.”
The man glances at me briefly in the mirror above him. “I’m sorry about your loss.”
Zombie World (Zombie Apocalypse #3) Page 38
