The search was growing frustrating and Jon was getting even more anxious. He could feel the hair on his arms standing up and he started imagining someone watching his every move. It became so intense that his focus started falling to the windows, scanning outside.
Mark was digging in a closet full of games and said, “Hey look - Life. You remember this one? The little cars that go around the board and you do stuff like go to college, get married and add kids until you either retire to the mansion or end up in the poor house?”
Tom ignored this. “I’m beginning to think that whoever took off in the other car had the keys to this one in his pocket.”
Suddenly they were startled by the sound of gunfire. A quick glance out the window revealed Nikki on one knee aiming and then pulling the trigger repeatedly.
Jon looked out toward the woods. A couple dozen Fiends were running at the house. “Outside! Now!”
Instead, the two Marines turned toward the uphill windows with the intent to shoot.
Nikki kept up a steady and careful fire as she dropped a Fiend with every other bullet or so. The civilian model M16 was semi-auto, deadly accurate in the right hands. Unfortunately, the NATO 5.56 round didn’t provide enough punch to drop them all with certainty. Some were hit and kept running like nothing had happened at all. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw more running along the shore right at her. The men inside were going to be cut off. She adjusted her aim to the closer threat and fired until she was out of bullets, ejected the mag and flipped the other one taped to it into the receiver.
Inside the house, Tom racked his shotgun, smashed out a window and sprayed buckshot up the hill. Mark, seeing that they’d left the door wide open, fruitlessly slammed it shut just as a big Fiend, with lots of downhill momentum, smashed it to splinters. Mark was knocked flat to the floor and he screamed in terror and agony as the big one bit into him. Another Fiend was right behind the first – Jesus! It was carrying Jon’s shotgun, finger on the trigger –then it tripped, fell to the floor and blew the top of its own head off.
Tom and Jon ran to the lake door, wildly shooting behind themselves. Tom hesitated a moment for his friend, but Jon, while remembering to slam his visor down, shoved the Marine outside.
Jon’s Colt packed a wallop. He shot at everything that moved in front of them, but the beasts were everywhere. He could feel them bite and claw at his leathers. Tom, who had no helmet, was brought down by two of them biting into each side of his neck. Blood spurted in great gouts as they swarmed over his body.
Jon managed to get his hand on his baton and, using the long end along his forearm, beat a path to the boat, firing the gun until it ran out of bullets and then using it as a club. He remembered his high school football training and ran with his knees high, keeping the Fiends from being able to snag his ankles. He kicked them off his legs and finally burst through, only to be nearly shot by Nikki, who had stacked up the creatures like cordwood, calmly shooting them one by one.
With her M16 empty again, she yelled while pulling her Berretta 9mm, “Start the boat! I’ll keep them back!”
Jon ran past her without hesitation, jumped in the boat and fired it up. Nikki kept up a furious killing zone at the head of the dock and then turned and ran. Jon finished untying the bow as she jumped in, grabbed the steering wheel and slammed the engine into full throttle sending him tumbling to the deck. Fiends poured off the dock in their race to catch the boat and Nikki didn’t slow down until she put three hundred yards between them.
Jon pulled off his helmet and knelt retching on the floorboards. “Jesus Christ, that’s twice now that it’s been that close. Two times in two days.” He leaned over the side and threw up.
Nikki coasted a little further and put the boat into neutral. Her hands were uncontrollably shaking and she hugged herself to try to stop it. “They’re dead. Mark and Tom are dead. Everyone I know, is dead.”
Jon wiped his mouth and stood. He tried to reach out to Nikki but she slapped his arm away, saying, “Get the fuck away from me.”
He sat down and caught his breath. He could make out a pack of infected where Tom had fallen. Some used sharp rocks and a female had a big knife. They were all competing to get their mouths on some meat. He could see the monsters fight over slabs of red flapping chunks. He had to look away or risk vomiting again.
He said, “They waited. They laid quietly, by the tens, dozens. Waited until the perfect moment for us to be distracted. I’ve never seen it quite like that. The fucking things are adapting.”
They remained silent for what must have been five minutes, refusing to look back at the shore, letting the light breeze move the boat at a slow sideways drift.
Finally Nikki spoke, “So now what? Going ashore is a death trap. I agree that we’ve got to get to Canada. I just don’t see how.”
“First we go back to the island. We calm down and we think. I have to wash my leathers. I’m covered in infected saliva and blood.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Skin Of The Teeth
Jon and Nikki took inventory of their supplies. They had enough food for a month, five weeks if they rationed carefully. There were plenty of guns and ammo. There was a camp stove with several canisters of gas, a well fitted-out first-aid kit, several blankets, and much to Jon’s happiness, a water filtration device that doubled as a canteen. All he had to do was submerge it, even in muddy water, and it filtered out everything, even viruses. There was a compass as well as a hand-held GPS (though the battery was getting low and there was no way to recharge it). A hand crank radio received a weak signal from one AM station playing a looped emergency public service message. It was garbled and broken with static. Nikki shut it off.
They cleaned and disinfected themselves as best they could, ate a little food and mostly stared at nothing. In the afternoon, they placed everything back aboard the boat in a logical manner. As the evening wore on, they continued to have little discussion and ate a quiet dinner. When darkness fell, they climbed into bunks on opposite sides of the cabin and listened to each other toss and turn until they both nodded off.
Some hours later, Jon was startled awake as Nikki screamed in terror in her sleep. He stepped to her bunk and shook her shoulder until she woke. Her eyes flashed around in the darkness. A nearly full moon shining through a small window offering the only light. She focused on Jon for a brief moment and her breathing eased. Then she closed her eyes and rolled away from him without a word. Jon lay back down and couldn’t fall back to sleep. He desperately longed to kick back in his apartment in Atlanta and get lost in The History Channel.
At dawn the sun streamed through the window and woke them both at roughly the same time. Nikki stepped quietly outside first and washed her face at the water’s edge. Jon felt stiff as he got out of bed. He wanted coffee. Some of the MREs were breakfast oriented. They had little chemical heaters inside. One held an omelet with hash browns and a French vanilla cappuccino.
“You want breakfast?” he called out.
“In a minute. You should look at this.”
Jon stepped outside. The morning mist was just beginning to lift off the lake. On the far shore, the forest was teeming with Fiends. Several turned having noticed his and Nikki's movements. A few let out the screeching howl causing others to stop and look. Pretty soon, the entire shoreline was staring at them and screeching their horrific noise. The sound wave traveled across the water and pushed against their chests. It was like standing in a stadium full of madmen. Then both of their heads filled with a buzzing disorientation. Their senses were overwhelmed as the smells, tastes and sights of other beings flashed through their minds. Nikki gathered enough wits to grab Jon and pull him back out of sight among the trees.
Jon shook his head, suddenly free of the sensation. “What was that? What the hell was that?”
"Don’t know. It happened to me yesterday just before we got attacked.
Jon said, “Let’s see what the other side looks like.”
"Fine, but
let's stay in the tree line. I think it's a line of sight thing."
"What's a line of sight thing?"
She pointed at her head. "That. It stopped when we stepped out of sight."
They moved through the trees to the far side of the island, but this time stopped short of stepping out of cover. The mansion side of the lake was the same. An army of Fiends were marching north.
“Well, now we’re really stuck,” said Nikki as she instinctively stepped further back into cover.
“Maybe it’s just a large group passing through. We can certainly wait it out.”
“Maybe. I’m hungry.” Nikki walked back toward the cabin. Jon watched the shore for a while and then turned back himself.
Inside the cabin Nikki ate in silence. Jon was loath to disturb her need for quiet, but he wanted to try the radio again. He grabbed it while looking at her for permission. She shrugged and he started cranking the handle. The static returned and the same message seemed to be playing. This time they could just make out the words:
“…Government. This is an alert to all citizens remaining within the New England area. The deadline for bombing has been shifted on the East coast due to a change in weather. Typical weather patterns should return in the next twelve to fifteen hours. Chemical bombing will commence at that time on cities and towns with populations greater than ten thousand. If you are incapable of reaching Eastern Canada above the Saint Lawrence River your only option is to stay inside and seal your home completely. Turn off all air conditioning. If you can, create an additional sealed room inside your home. Allied air forces will be dropping extremely lethal nerve and other chemical agents as well as bombing targets of opportunity. Again: Lethal chemical agents will be dropped across the Northeastern United States in twelve to fifteen hours. If you cannot make it to the Canadian safe zone, you must seal your house completely. Some of these agents can remain lethal to touch for as little as thirty-six hours and as long as several weeks depending on weather. Leaflets will be dropped giving instructions for proper protection from such agents… Six-thirty AM, six hundred and thirty hours. This is an emergency broadcast. This is the United States and Canadian Governments. This is an alert to all citizens remaining within the New England States and Canada south of the Saint Law -"
Jon shut off the radio. Nikki had stopped eating and stared at it. Jon said, “It’s hard enough that we have to defend ourselves against millions of highly infectious cannibals. Now our own government is going to bomb us with chemical weapons.”
“Sounds like a pretty good solution to me.”
“Yeah, if you’re in Canada. I thought we signed a treaty getting rid of all of that stuff.”
“Guess not.” Nikki looked around. “There’s no sealing off this leaky old cabin.”
“It’s not like we’re in a populated area of more than ten thousand.”
“Tell that to the massive target of opportunity walking on either side of the lake.”
Jon nodded, “Okay, so we have to try and outrun those things on the shore. We can take the boat as far north as this lake goes.”
“It’s about three miles. Ends at a small town.”
Then we get a car.”
“Or find a house or other building that we can seal.”
“I’m not buying that solution. Being locked in a house might as well be the same as standing outside. They find a way to break in. You know that better than anyone.”
She started eating again. “Obviously, finding a car is preferable. I’m just pointing out the other logical option. It pays to have the contingencies covered.”
Jon bit into his now cold omelet. Despite a reputation for tasting like reconstituted cardboard, even cold his MRE tasted great.
Nikki drove as they cruised up the lake. They kept their heads ducked down with Nikki popping up every moment or so to check on their course. Fiends on both sides screeched and screamed with excitement as they ran along the banks in frenzied pursuit.
Jon yelled over the engine noise, “It looks like we’re going to have to move fast. I’m going to break the must haves into two light packs. We’ll have to leave the rest.”
“The most important thing is ammo. Pack everything we’ve got.”
In minutes a small town appeared at the lake’s river mouth. There was a two-story brick building near the harbor entrance. It was the fire and police headquarters. A dozen police and firemen as well as a few citizens were on the roof shooting at the infected below. Several German Shepherds were on the roof with them and the dogs barked and yipped in frustration at not being close enough to kill. The boarded-up doors and windows were under full assault.
The parking lot held several cars, but that left the question of keys. There were also a couple cop cars in a separate fenced off area. Nikki slowed the boat to an idle as they got closer. The people on the building occupied most of the Fiend’s attention, but a few started to take notice of them as well. They ducked back down.
Nikki said, “The cop cars will have keys.”
“How do you figure?”
“My uncle was a cop. Small town. They always leave the keys in the car. I even took one for a joy ride once.”
Jon raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
“We drive the boat right up to the edge of the lot where they’re fenced off. We run like hell, throw the blankets over the barbwire and try to climb over before the fuckers can get us.”
“You lived through Sudan with plans like that?”
“You got something better?”
“Nope. All cops just leave the keys in the car. Got it.”
Nikki gave him a frustrated look then decided to let it go. They were running out of time. “I’ll cruise really close to shore over that way. We’ll draw the things away from the fence and then we’ll shoot back this way and beach the boat.”
“Okay, you run first with the blankets and toss them over the barbwire. I’ll be right behind with the backpacks. I’ve got better body armor, so you go over first.”
“Fine.”
Nikki, strapped the M-16 over her shoulders, drove about one hundred and fifty yards away from the fence and stopped maybe thirty feet from the shore, engine idling. The Fiends bunched up in droves following them, some falling into the water.
When the fenced area was clear, Nikki gunned the boat and raced the other way. They hit the boat ramp hard, skidding right out of the water and used the last of the momentum to run right off the bow. The Fiends were running too and they were running fast.
Jon flung the backpacks over as Nikki heaved the blankets only to have them land short, uselessly falling to the ground.
“Shit!” She scooped them up and heaved again with the same effect. The fence was too high.
“Fuck it!” Jon started climbing the fence. “I’ll lay on it, you climb over me!”
He scrambled to the top and almost fell. The barbed wire pressed painfully into his gut, but the leather held. The Fiends were almost on top of them. Nikki scrambled up the fence, grabbing onto Jon’s belt, then shoulders. A Fiend jumped and grabbed Jon’s leg. Then another one got a hold. “Awww fuckkker!”
Nikki threw herself over the other side and landed badly, hitting her head. She buckled in a dazed fashion, while Jon clung to the fence for dear life.
“Nikki! Nikki! Jesus! Snap out of it!”
Still dazed, she unholstered the Beretta, stumbled to the fence and fired nearly point blank into the face of one of the creatures holding Jon’s legs. He broke free and scrambled over the top, landing on both feet just as a wall of Fiends hit the fence behind them. The chain link bulged and swayed with the buffeting. The people on the roof starting pouring their fire into the mass.
Jon tried the first car door - locked.
Nikki tried the other one - no good. “You gotta be kidding?”
Fiends were starting to climb the fence. Most were getting caught in the barbwire, but a few had figured out Jon’s method and were using the trapped bodies of the others to act as a path.
The people on the roof kept picking them off, but Jon and Nikki had maybe seconds before they’d be overwhelmed.
Nikki unslung her rifle and was about to use the butt of it on a driver’s window when they heard a loud whistle. A cop on the roof held a pack of keys aloft and then he tossed them in an arc toward them. They hit the top of the car and slid into Jon’s chest.
“Thanks!” he yelled.
“Good luck!” the cop yelled back.
Jon opened the doors and they both hopped in just as half a dozen monsters made it over the fence. He re-locked the doors and started the engine.
The Fiends were on the car in seconds, pounding the windows and yanking on the doors. Jon floored it toward the entry gate, which without electricity wasn’t going to open, but that didn’t stop the push-bumper equipped squad car from plowing right through it. With a screech of spinning tires and scraping metal, a dozen infected were trapped and crushed as the car’s wheels spun and slipped over the chain link. Then the razor wire wound itself up around the right rear axle, snaring the car as another group of ghouls threw themselves upon it.
Jon slammed the transmission into reverse, sending a cloud of burned rubber smoke into the air and the wire pulled taught again.
“Forward! Go forward!” screamed Nikki.
“No shit!” He shoved the gearshift into drive and smashed the gas pedal into the floorboards. The tires screeched in protest as the car shot forward, dragging razor wire and a section of fencing behind it. The car started to fishtail and came extremely close to spinning into the lake when the piece of fence whipped around a light post and snapped the wire, setting them free.
The street was full of infected. Snarling creatures ricocheted off the bumper and fenders like rag dolls. The volume of bodies slamming against the car was nearly deafening and Nikki and Jon screamed mindlessly, adding their horror to the incredible din. Blood and hair and spit and dirt and pieces of clothing splattered all over the hood, doors, and windows. Then suddenly they were past them. The road ahead was mostly clear and Jon released some of the death grip he’d had on wheel. He sat up, his shoulders un-hunched and he lifted his head to look into the rearview mirror.
Of Sudden Origin Page 5
