What Lies Beneath: Z is for Zombie Book 6

by catt dahman

  “They don’t feel pain,” Solly told Patrick.

  “How can we fight people who don’t react to pain? And I saw some: they were torn up, and you’d think they would be down for the count, yanno? But they aren’t; they keep coming even with ripped off arms and bloody faces, and I even saw one walking on a broken ankle. You could tell: it was sideways, and she didn’t notice.” He took a breath. They knew this, but he had to talk it out. “And if you beat them down, or if they have broken backs or legs, they’ll crawl after you; how sick is that?”

  “It’s sick,” Solly agreed.

  Some people blocked the windows and the secured the door, trying to be stealthy. So many were chasing one another and fighting outside, trying to move things around without being noticed.

  “People are hurt out there,” Jill said as she peeked out the window.

  “You wanna go help them?” Adrian asked.

  She didn’t know if he meant just her or if he were offering, but she shook her head, ‘No.’ She couldn’t go out there if she wanted to: with her legs shaking so badly.

  More people crowded around to look out the window as they heard unearthly screaming. Several people headed to the maintenance building but were attacked brutally before they could get very far, hands and faces bitten and torn, arms chewed, hair grabbed and ripped.

  One woman was on her back, screaming hysterically as the monsters snapped through bone and flesh, leaving her bloody hands fingerless.

  The human bite is several hundred pounds, and flesh is broken at about one hundred psi. With that, the attackers felt no pain at all and wanted nothing more than to bite and eat while spreading the infection. Biting is a basic instinct for humans and animals, and it is easy to see how feeding and biting machines could do as much damage as they did.

  While the fingerless woman fought for her life, a child passed out from blood loss while another woman, maybe a stranger or maybe a mother, was eating at the child’s leg.

  A man screeched as he was scalped and peeled so he had no face left; his eyes were eaten, his feet stripped of skin by a second one on him.

  Another man fought while one woman perched on his back to snap at the flesh on his blood-soaked back, another gnawed at his ankles, and a third ripped muscle from his arm. More were rolling around on the ground, and several who were still human were covered in their own gore as they fought back against teeth and nails.

  One man was doing fairly well when he hit a zombie in the face. Unfortunately, he gashed his knuckles open on the thing’s teeth, and the infection was spread by saliva; thus, he was infected. But he didn’t realize that, and once he was able to, he ran and launched himself up onto the dumpster top where they couldn’t reach him.

  He would turn later.

  As the group in the maintenance building turned from the front, they found that a group of another ten people were blocking the door on the side area, leading to the fence and the bus area. They looked tired and terrified, but human. “Hey, there. We got it covered.”

  “None coming in after you?”

  “We handled some of them, but more are running that way. Razor wire at the top makes it impossible to get over.”

  “Glad to see more people made it.”

  They met the first group, explaining that a large group was formed outside where some tried to escape.

  “This is all?”

  “We think we are all. How is it? Can we get out?”

  “Not that way. I think some from the school building got out, and they attacked as people ran for the fence. There’s no way out, so if they made it, then the fence them trapped like rats.” Alex showed them the storage of tools so that everyone could have two items to use as melee weapons.

  “No guns, huh?”

  “I wish,” Alex said.

  Patrick plucked keys from a board. “Okay, if we can circle through, we can come out at the other end of the school and into the fenced area, get a bus, and drive out. Number 501.”

  “And we open the fence, how?” Jill asked.

  “Superior bus power,” Patrick said as he grinned, “bang it open.”

  “Cool idea.”

  “Might need two to get through, not sure.” He grabbed the keys for 523.

  “Twenty-two out of over five hundred made it?” Doc rubbed his eyes. “This is a nightmare. How could this happen when we knew what was going to happen?”

  “We knew it was coming.”

  “You mean to tell me that people thought zombies were coming back? Silly shit. Those are just sick people, so we didn’t buy the fact that they would be

  so…well…violent.”

  “Just sick?” Alex chuckled. “Better check again.”

  “Check reality,” Adrian commented dryly.

  “Seeing it on television or hearing it from other places don’t make it real. I didn’t really think it was gonna be this way,” Tiara said. “You all expect…really…your people to jump up and bite? Hail, no.” In Texas, “hail” was as accepted as saying “hell”, and she was a Texan.

  “I didn’t expect us to have this many patients or for there not to be a cure,” Doc muttered. “People always find a cure or something. Why didn’t the CDC figure it out? I kept waiting for the cure to arrive. This is the freaking United damned States of America.”

  “They had just days; why didn’t we prepare better?”

  “Because we thought they were going to be sick, not zombies-like as people said on television.”

  “They are just sick; those are not zombies,” someone said as he laughed, still not believing it.

  “Again, check reality,” Adrian said.

  “It’s hard to get ready for the end of the world,” Bob said. When they looked at him, he shrugged. “I mean as we know it…the end of normal; I’m not preaching.”

  Tiara smiled. “I don’t think prayers and preaching would hurt, yanno.”

  They all jumped as some of the Reds thumped on the door.

  “If you wanna go tend to ‘sick people’, then have at it. I am telling you they are not sick; they are walking dead people,” Doc said.

  “Let’s get moving,” Alex suggested. They were close to the big mechanical bay areas where buses could be worked on and checked. One bus was torn up with mechanical parts of the engine all over.

  “There’s a water fountain: we need to drink some water. And see those bottles, if they are clean, we can carry some water. Use your belts or ropes that we find...anything, and we need packs, if you find bags or anything like packs. Let’s scrounge around for anything we can use. Think of anything that could be something else and useful to help us or to fight those things.”

  Two made Molotov cocktails with bottles and rags and gasoline while another set them into a plastic crate with ropes tied onto the handle; two people could carry it along. A woman pulled on a tool belt and loaded it with sharp tools she thought she might use.

  Using their imaginations and feeling as if they were fighting back somehow made them all calmer. Some still wept after having seen their family members return as ghouls, having to fight those people and seeing the bloody battle.

  They found more clean bottles and filled them with water and drank the amounts Doc ordered in slow sips. After the vending machines were emptied, they ate a candy bar, cookies were for each, and a bag of chips was shared between every two people. The rest of the food was divided into the packs they made for themselves with what they found. Ropes, a few flashlights, and first aid kits, replacing those that were already used, were loaded on the buses.

  Using a first aid kit, Jill covered scrapes and cuts after cleaning the wounds carefully and adding antibiotic cream. Doc said staying hydrated, resting, keeping wounds clean and dry, and eating a little was not only a good plan for their bodies but also for their emotional wellbeing. He claimed that taking care of the basic physical needs would pay off more than anything else, besides having good weapons.

  Right now, getting everyone to drink water, rest, and work to keep his
mind off of the misery was all the medicine they had for a tortured mind. For many, the emotional toll would be too much to handle.

  One of the men sat on the ground, refusing to look for supplies as he rocked his wounded arm in his lap and wept with pain and frustration.

  “Why does it smell so bad?” Adrian asked. “Not saying you stink, but….”

  The man gave him a dirty look.

  Doc tilted his head as he dressed the wound for the man. “It’s already badly infected, and that’s what you smell; it’s distinctive.” Yellow pus dripped thickly from the huge tear on the purplish flesh, chewed all the way to the bone. The man had a high fever, his eyes were glassy with pain, and he vomited into a tub. Doc carefully drained the injury amid the man’s yelps and groans.

  “You got the Red?”

  “No, I don’t. I ain’t in a coma,” he snapped at Tiara, “stop staring at me.”

  “You are infected though; that is bad shit,” Candy said.

  “So? Everyone gets infected sometime; leave me alone.”

  “If you get bitten, then you get infected, and then you turn into one of those damned things,” Candy said angrily.

  “White trash whore,” he said, looking at her.

  She tried to pull her shorts down longer and her top down to cover more of her stomach, biting her lip. “Shut up. Who asked you?”

  “You started the shit.”

  “Hey, knock it off,” another man warned him.

  “It’s okay,” Candy said softly, “words don’t hurt so much anymore, not after seeing that.”

  “It hurts. Stop staring and saying things like that,” the man complained.

  “They say people who are bitten, get infected,” Doc said simply, “I bet it does hurt but still no reason to talk that way to her; she isn’t the problem. I have seen what the infection does, and so has everyone else in here. So have you.”

  “I’m not infected. The wound is infected. Give me a break, okay? Hurts like hell,” the man, Brad, said angrily, “I’m fine.” He lay down with a groan, needing to rest.

  “He’s in bad shape.”

  “I don’t have antibiotics or anything else, and what good would they do those people out there?” Doc motioned to the outside, “I can’t unbite him.”

  “And that smell is distinctive for sure,” Alex agreed, “no one gets infected with something normal that fast, nor does it smell so rotten.”

  Alex showed them a lounge he found. Some chairs and tables and settees were there as well as a coffee machine, a sink, bathroom, and a little food in a refrigerator. Despite needing sleep, some happily descended upon the coffee.

  “If this is my last minute to live, it’s with coffee, ahhhh,” Candy said as she drank hers.

  Some people curled up to sleep while others went to the bus to sleep on the seats. Alex told them they should wait until they hydrated, slept so that they could try an escape in better health, and rested after the running and fighting were over.

  “Maybe some will wander away,” Solly said, as he curled up on one of the bus seats, “maybe they will all go to hell, away.”

  “I hope they do,” Ed agreed, “don’t know how anyone can sleep with those things out there, gonna have nightmares. Wait, is it a nightmare when it is happening while we are awake, too?”

  “Those things…one was my boyfriend; he was an asshole; now, he is a biting asshole,” Candy said, “but they are people we once knew. That freaks me out. He was a jerk and a bad boyfriend, but still, that’s harsh to be a monster.”

  “They are no one, now. Your loved ones are passed. Those are puppets for the infection,” Bob said, “everyone is gone: the soul is gone, and those are just bodies even if they look like family or friends; they are puppets and lies.”

  “You bastard,” Evvie screamed as everyone jumped up. She leaned over the infected, bitten man, Brad, swinging her hoe over and over at his head until Brad was a bloody mess of grey tissue and was no longer moving. He smelled terrible, and Evvie shuddered down her vomit. She kicked his smashed head to make sure he didn’t move again. She tried to stop herself, but she leaned over the mess, and her stomach erupted.

  “What?”

  “He turned and tried to bite Jill when she checked on him,” Evvie said when she stopped heaving. She didn’t even care that she threw up on a corpse.

  Tiara looked at the mess of brains. “Damn, girl.”

  Alex took a deep breath. “No one bitten comes with us; he turns into Dead Zed Reds and bites. Glad you saw it…ummm…Eve of Destruction,” he said as he grinned sickly.

  “Eve of Destruction…cool,” Ron said. He was a dark skinned teen, and when he grinned, he had a bright white smile that seemed to shine. His eyes were soulful but also very intelligent.

  Evvie nodded. “I am not going easily; I am gonna fight to the death. I am fine being Eve of Destruction. Once smashed, they won’t be biting again.”

  “Let’s make sure no one is bitten,” Ed said, “look…see…I’m not bitten or scratched.” He showed them his torso and arms as he dropped his shirt. Then, he dropped his pants and turned around slowly to show he was untouched.

  Evvie clenched her jaw and did the same, feeling stares raking all over her body as she, dressed in her bra and underwear, showed she was clear. Candy stripped as well to show she had no bra or panties on. Nude, she twirled fast and then slowly without any hesitation or shame did a little wiggle with her hips and made her breasts shake. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thang.”

  “Chicken wang,” Tiara finished as she too disrobed and showed she was unhurt. “Did you ever strip?”

  “I did for about six months, and then Mr. Jealousy wanted me to quit; money was sick.”

  Some of the rest were embarrassed, but everyone showed himself and was cleared even if he just showed one other person his body and not the entire room. Everyone had to be cleared.

  “Twenty-one left,” Solly remarked.

  “Are you counting down?”

  “No, I just count things though. If five hundred people each bite and infect two more in an hour, and the rest of the numbers do so, in three hours, there will be over thirteen thousand of them.”

  “No, it isn’t…that’s six people they bite…six times five hundred….”

  “Assume each turns within the hour.”

  “So?” Tiara asked.

  Patrick frowned. “No, two times five hundred, plus two times a thousand, and then two times fifteen hundred…that’s what…sixty-five hundred which is a lot….”

  Ron interrupted, “Solly is right. Over thirteen thousand if you take the original number and then two per each…and do that three times…I’m sure.”

  Solly nodded. “After six hours, if each gets only two people, then you have 464,500 infected.”

  “A half million in six hours? That can’t be right; that would be the whole city and all outlying areas. The US would be done in a day,” Tiara said.

  “I am a math whiz; don’t ask me about history, but I am positive the numbers are right,” Ron said.

  “Well, not all of them will get that many, and we killed a few, so I expect other people have killed some,” Ed protested.

  “Yes, but one of the big Zoms could chase down and infect more than two per hour.”

  “Not everyone will be out because many believed the reports. So technically, at some hour in the beginning, there won’t be two people available for every hunter; the things will be gathering and then hunting them down, so that will cause a frenzy.”

  “A lull is just as bad ‘cause each will be trying to get the two per hour; I don’t mean they know how many to get, only the theoretical number we agreed on,” Ron went on, “and then on to the numbers projected.

  “Taking into account those who fight back and survive and those killed on the other side, and then add in the natural deaths and accidental diseases caused by conditions.

  Next, figure that most were told to stay home. They are not bright enough to open doors, so we get a lo
wer number of those things outside.”

  “You didn’t count them. You only counted what we have here. More than five hundred are in the city,” said Candy looking ill, “there are thousands…ten thousand, so what’s the math there?” Her statement made them all go a bit paler.

  “I used a sample to show how fast, or Solly did,” Ron explained that part. He loved math and theoretical scenarios with all the variables but didn’t think these people could get all the points.

  “That is in best of conditions. I don’t think they will get more than two after the first hour, maybe more or less the first hour or two; then, if there are five thousand, those won’t get their two per hour, so the amount changes big time.”

  “If I am following you and then if a bunch of us survive over the next three hours, then we, as humans, have a better chance of long term survival?” Alex asked, trying to think it over and understand.

  “Exactly.” Ron nodded, happy that someone got it. “In places overseas where people are more cramped…little chance for them. If no one understood the danger, but we did hear about it even if we didn’t believe right then, so the warnings did do some good if people used them. We’re all in trouble, but it isn’t impossible if everyone works to stay alive. I mean…well, you know.”

  Everyone took that in.

  “All that math makes my head ache,” Tiara said, “and I ain’t the smartest cookie in the box, but somehow all that makes some sense to me. It’s like beating the odds in Vegas, isn’t it?”

  “I am too young to know that,” Ron admitted, “but variables are what make all the difference. Solly is right, but he’s also wrong; however he may be right unless we make him wrong.”

  Tiara laughed. “Now that, I understand.”

  “Me, too,” Alex said as he patted Solly’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t mean to cause such a discussion.”

  Jill gave his arm a squeeze. “For the first time, I have some hope, Solly, which made me feel better once Ron explained. Even though the numbers are horrible, variables give me hope. How many does each of us have to kill in an hour to even things up?”