The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Cronan, Matt

  "What if things go bad?" Jordan asked.

  Cole pulled a revolver from under his coveralls and cocked the hammer back. "Let's hope it don't come to that."

  Sam nodded.

  The three of them turned back and watched as the truck neared the guard shack. Gears creaked and moaned as the gates opened. Sam marveled at the dark unknown of the outside world.

  "I love you," Jordan whispered.

  Before she had a chance to return the sentiment, the brakes of the truck squeaked and Cole whispered, "Go."

  The three of them raced toward the truck, and Sam's heart jackhammered in her chest as they neared it. Cole broke apart from them and ran toward the cab of the truck and Jordan and Sam sped toward the back.

  They reached the guard shack and Robertson exploded from it. She lunged toward the driver-side door, a pistol clutched in one of her hands. Cole flanked the truck from the other side. Sam lost sight of them as she reached the rear of the truck.

  "We made it," Jordan said and flipped open the door latch. He pulled up on the handle and the door rattled up the tracks.

  Sam's heart caught as the contents of the truck were revealed. Holden Deckard knelt at the edge of the truck—bound and gagged and screaming muted pleas. Prime Minister Troy stood behind him, knife in hand and a sinister sneer coating his face. Two soldiers, armed with assault rifles, stood on either side of them. Moonlight gleamed from the tip of the blade as it pressed against Holden's throat.

  "No!" Sam shouted.

  Without warning, Troy dragged the blade from ear to ear and Holden's eyes widened. A thick, red mist spewed from the gaping wound and doused Sam and Jordan as they watched in shock. The fear in Holden's eyes turned to a vacant stare and then his body lurched forward and crashed into the dirt in front of them.

  Jordan tugged at her arm and she stumbled. Everything seemed far away. Panic engulfed her, and she realized this would be their final day on Earth. Desperation crashed over her as Jordan pulled her from the rear of the truck.

  "Get dem!" the Minister screamed. His words were distorted and Sam tasted his blood in her mouth.

  "Cole!" Sam screamed. They ran down the length of the truck toward the open gates and Sam picked up speed as she snapped out of the shock of the events unfolding around her. And then her heart dropped. A flat, open desert surrounded them. Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

  Robertson emerged from the front of the truck, the butt of a service rifle pressed into her shoulder. The muzzle of the gun was directed right at Sam and she squeezed her eyes tight. It was over now. Robertson had betrayed them.

  "Get down!" Jeanette shouted and Sam felt Jordan pull her to the side.

  Sam opened her eyes. A harsh orchestra of gunfire exploded through the air as Robertson squeezed the trigger of the semi-automatic rifle. Sam turned briefly and watched as the two soldiers flanking the Minister flailed backward. The Minister ducked back behind the truck as Robertson continued to fire.

  "Come on," Jordan yelled. He pulled her by the hand. She forced herself to turn back to the desert and sprinted toward it.

  An alarm pierced through the air and giant halogen lights atop the city walls illuminated. More shots fired from the snipers perched along the wall. Patches of dirt exploded on either side of them as they ran into the darkness of the wastelands. Sam screamed out but continued to run as fast as she could.

  There was a moment of silence and then a single burst of gunfire. Sam felt her arm jerk back. She turned back, terrified the soldiers had caught up with them, or that someone had grabbed Jordan, but no one else was in site.

  "Jordan?" Sam asked.

  And then she saw it. A tiny red dot had emerged on his chest.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Jordan, I—"

  Jordan's face turned pale, and the dot expanded to the size of a saucer. He fell to his knees and then on to his back.

  "Jordan!" Sam screamed as she fell down with him.

  She pressed her hand over the red circle. It had tripled in size, and Sam's heart broke as she felt the warm liquid ooze from underneath the field jacket. Her eyes filled with tears and she screamed a guttural, primal cry up to the heavens.

  "Sam?" Jordan asked. His face was gray and his eyes looked hollow.

  "I'm here," Sam sobbed.

  "Did we make it?" he asked. "Did we make it out of the city?"

  Sam looked around at the expanse of nothingness surrounding them. Tears poured from her eyes. "Yes," she said. "We made it."

  More gunfire sounded in the distance. She prayed for the next bullet to come and find her. To take her to the same place Jordan was going. She sobbed at the thought of him leaving her. She bent down and kissed his lips. They should have been warm and full. They felt cold. Sam sobbed harder.

  The truck roared to life and rolled through the city gates toward her. Sam barely noticed.

  "You have to go," Jordan said.

  "I won't leave you," Sam cried.

  "You have to."

  "No."

  "If you stay," Jordan said, "then all of this is for nothing." His voice was weak and strained. He lifted his hand, wincing as he did, and Sam grabbed a hold of it. She squeezed as tightly as she could.

  "Please don't make me go."

  "Sam?" Jordan asked.

  "Yes?"

  "I remember," Jordan said. "I remember the flowers. They're not what you think. They're real, Sam. They're bad. Remember them."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  Jordan didn't answer.

  The truck squelched to a stop beside her and she heard Cole screaming from inside of the cab. She looked to Cole and then back to Jordan. Life had escaped his eyes leaving them dark and blank.

  "No!" she wailed.

  "We've gotta go!" Cole screamed.

  Sam closed Jordan's eyes with her fingertips and whispered one last goodbye to him. She kissed his lips and breathed in the smell of his skin.

  "Now, Miss Sam!"

  There was a discordance of noise coming from everywhere around her. Rounds of gunfire erupted in the distance. Cole screamed for her to get in the truck. She whispered that she loved him and told him she was sorry. She got to her feet and clambered into the cab of the truck.

  The tires spun, and then caught traction, and they sped toward the heart of the desert. Toward Concordia. Away from Jordan. In the rearview mirror, she watched as the city of New Hope grew smaller on the horizon until finally disappearing. The wastelands stretched out in front of them. Hundreds of miles filled with the infected. And somewhere past that, Concordia.

  Sam curled up into a ball on the passenger seat of the truck and wept for Jordan. She wept for Holden and Robertson, for Tyler and the rest of the prisoners that had been executed. She wept for Rebecca.

  After a while, her eyes grew tired and heavy. In the driver's seat, Cole rambled on about the disaster they had survived, but his voice seemed distant. Sleep was coming to take her and she only hoped it wouldn't take her back to the burning city. She hoped it would bring her to Jordan for one last kiss.

  PART TWO: LOST ANGEL

  1

  The Ferris wheel stood in the middle of the deserted field like a giant sentinel watching over the city below. Years ago, the steel structure was painted in vibrant shades of yellow and orange and trimmed in thousands of white lights that would flash through the pitch-dark night like a beacon guiding lost travelers home. Now, it served as a cruel reminder of a pastime that would soon be long forgotten. A thick layer of rust and decay covered the massive spokes and the cogs and gears of its innards. The steel bucket cars squeaked and groaned as they swayed back and forth and provided a chilling melody that echoed through the night sky.

  Sam marveled at the ancient relic. The blood-red moon hung low behind the structure and cast long shadows across the field. Somewhere in the woods beyond, dogs barked and growled. Soon the entire tree line would be ablaze and they would be screaming.

  Sam glanced to her side and saw Jordan standing be
side her. Without speaking, he wrapped his big hand around hers and together they stared up at the distant memory of Sam's childhood. A childhood that happened long before she ever met Jordan. A memory he had never been part of before tonight.

  "You're not supposed to be here," Sam whispered.

  "I know."

  Sam turned toward him and smiled. Jordan returned it and pulled her into his arms. She buried her head into his strong chest and took a deep breath. He smelled of bath soap with the slightest tang of motor oil and the familiarity of that scent, his scent, brought tears to her eyes. She pressed her cheek deeper into his chest and felt the soft cotton against her skin. Beneath the white tee, she heard the thrumming of his beating heart.

  After a long time, Sam lifted her head, just enough to turn it away from the Ferris wheel, and then nuzzled back into his chest. The field was flat for a couple hundred yards and then broke into a steep hill that led to the city. Fire and ash draped the skyline.

  "How is this possible?" Sam asked.

  "It's not," Jordan whispered. "None of this is real." He wrapped his arms tighter around her shoulders and the strong embrace warmed her heart. But the warmth lasted for only a moment. Despite the insufferable temperatures, an underlying chill resided in the hot breeze. It carried Jordan's words through the night air and they replayed in her head, over and over.

  None of this is real.

  None of this is real.

  None of this is—

  "You died," Sam managed, as a single tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. "I couldn't save you. I wanted to—"

  Her voice broke as more tears streamed down her face. She took a deep breath of the smoky air and it caught in her lungs. She forced it out, her chest heaving, and managed a tearful, "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

  "It's okay," he said. "It's not your fault."

  She pulled away from him altogether and turned back toward the giant wheel fixing her glassy eyes upon it. She tried to hold back the next wave of tears fighting their way to the surface but her efforts were futile. A river of tears burst forth from her eyes and she collapsed to her knees as an empty shell of the girl she once was. She sobbed as she mourned her best friend, and he knelt beside her and gently caressed her back until she stopped crying and there was nothing more than the ominous groans of the Ferris wheel.

  "You have to go on," Jordan said, helping her back to her feet.

  "I won't. Not without you."

  "You have to, Samantha. You have to do it for me."

  She said nothing. In her mind, the journey no longer mattered. She didn't want to live in a world without him. Concordia had taken Jordan and Rebecca away from her and now the only thing she cared about was reuniting with them.

  "You can't afford to think like that," Jordan said. "Too much depends on you."

  "How did you—?" Sam started.

  Jordan shook his head, "I didn't read your mind." He smiled and then added, "I'm not real, remember?"

  She nodded.

  "They'll come for you," Jordan said after a long moment had passed.

  "I know," Sam whispered. She wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. The hot air burned her lungs.

  "What will you do if they catch you?"

  "I don't—"

  Jordan grabbed her by the wrist and spun her towards him. "What will you do, Samantha?"

  She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled away and stepped past him, toward the city. Less than a mile away, everything she ever knew burned in hopes to control the spread of the virus. All the love and joy she had ever experienced was nothing more than a pile of ashes.

  But that wasn't real either.

  None of this is real.

  "We need to go," Jordan said. The reflection of the flames danced in his eyes.

  "Go where?"

  "To the city."

  He reclaimed her hand, and this time she didn't pull away. They started toward the city, making their way through the tall grass. They had made it halfway through the field when Sam stopped in her tracks. Jordan tugged at her sleeve but she didn't budge.

  "What's wrong?"

  "What about David?"

  She gazed down and lying at her feet was the naked and crippled body of the boy. David, her best friend, the boy she played hide-and-seek with, the boy who shared her first kiss with, he was dead. He had contracted the RIZ-4 virus the day before and was now dead and lying face down in the dirt with a number burned into his flesh.

  "We can't take him with us." Jordan jerked on her hand to continue, much harder than before, but Sam's feet remained planted.

  David's symptoms presented just as the news reports said: bloodshot eyes, fever, legions, and sudden hair loss. In the tall grass, he was nothing more than an effigy of himself. Open sores pocked his skin, and his thick brown hair had begun to come out in clumps.

  "I can't leave him," Sam said. She yanked her hand away and bent down to scoop up the boy's body, but Jordan snatched her wrist preventing her from touching the corpse.

  "He's one of them, Samantha," Jordan said. "He's infected. You know what that means."

  "He's all alone."

  "I know. But he'll be coming back soon and I suggest we're not here when he does."

  He kept his tone even but the words still cut her to the bone. A furious abhorrence towards him bubbled in the pit of her stomach. "None of this is real, remember? Not you, not David and not the goddamn virus! You're dead, Jordan Riggs. You left me in this fucking hellhole. You don't get to tell me what to do here."

  She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. The venom residing in them wasn't meant for the love of her life. Hot blood filled her cheeks and even in the pitch-dark of the night, she was sure that he could see her blushing.

  Jordan turned away for a long moment. Sam thought she could detect tears forming in his gray-blue eyes and it tore at her heart to know that she caused even a millisecond of sadness. But when he turned back to her, there were no tears. Instead, a polite smile touched his lips.

  "I'm sorry," Sam said, not giving him a chance to speak.

  "It's okay," Jordan answered. "This is a difficult situation for all of us." His words sounded disconnected from the loving expression he wore on his face. He continued, "We have to leave your friend here and I have to show you what's in the city. It's vital to your survival."

  Jordan extended his hand and this time she accepted it, and he led her away from the field and away from David. They walked toward the burning city of steel. She hesitated once as they reached the edge of the field and turned back to the spot where the dead boy lay in the deep grass. Sam said a silent goodbye and then followed Jordan into the city.

  The half-mile walk seemed to take only a minute, the travel time unrealistic, furthering the proof that this was a dream. But it was a dream where Jordan lived. One where his heart still pumped in rhythmic, steady beats. It was a dream that she didn't want to end, despite the increasing volume of screams from the buildings towering over them.

  Jordan led her past burning building after burning building. They stopped at the intersection of 21st and Smith Street. The street corner was familiar like she had stood on it a million times before. She was close to home. Much closer than she had been in a long time.

  "Do you know where we are?" Jordan asked.

  "I think so."

  The shouts and pleas of help from the windows above became more and more distinguishable from one another. Sam heard the wails of a little girl in the building ahead.

  "Help me," a woman in the adjacent building screamed out. "I'm not one of them. I'm not infected."

  "Can we save her?" Sam asked Jordan.

  Jordan shook his head. "She's already dead."

  "I know."

  Sam's flesh erupted in gooseflesh as an explosion of fire ripped through the apartment building and the woman cries fell silent.

  "I can't go on," Sam said. "I need to wake up."

  "Not yet."

  "How much further
?"

  "Not much."

  "Okay."

  Jordan started toward the heart of the city, but Sam found herself unable to continue. She attempted to take a step forward but couldn't lift her foot. She tried to take a step with the other foot but nothing happened. Her legs refused to listen to the commands of her brain. Jordan hadn't seemed to notice that she was no longer with him.

  "Jordan," Sam called out after him. "There's something wrong."

  He didn't look back.

  She leaned forward as far as she could without falling over but couldn't lift her foot even a millimeter off the ground. "Move goddamn you." She looked back to Jordan who was now far ahead of her.

  "Jordan," she called out again, this time a bitter sense of urgency prevalent in her voice. A hot ball of panic formed in the pit of her stomach and spread through her body.

  "Jordan Riggs!" she yelled.

  But Jordan didn't turn back or even hesitate. He was too far away from her. Swallowed by the darkness.

  "Don't leave me here!" Sam cried out.

  She pawed at her leg with both hands trying to lift it from the ground. Her nubby fingernails dug into the bare skin and she clawed at her flesh. It remained planted to the ground. She tried the other one to no avail and then shrieked as her foot sank into the blacktop.

  "Please come back, Jordan!" This time she screamed with all of her might, straining her voice until it was nothing more than a raspy gravel. It didn't matter how loud she screamed though. Jordan was gone. She had lost sight of him. He had left her and now she was all alone.

  She continued to scream and tear at her legs. Blood trickled from the claw marks. Above, the towering infernos roared louder and louder. It drowned out the screams of the people trapped inside and then her own screams. The temperature sweltered and bulged and Sam felt the intense heat of the flames kissing her skin like the sun on a hot summer's day.

  In the distance, just past the point where she had watched Jordan disappear, the slightest of movements caught her eye. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing Jordan had realized that he left her. He was coming back to save her and he would free her from the blacktop, from this city, and from this horrible nightmare.