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The Infected_Torn Apart_Book Six

Page 19

by Joseph Zuko


  “If I help you find this man, can I give him a try too?”

  “He is good-sized. There would be plenty for everyone.”

  “Sweet!” Amanda raised her hand in the air. “We’ve got to find that guy Cane too.”

  Lindsey gave her a solid high-five. “He’s a little too… What’s the word I’m looking for? He’s too country for me.”

  “Country or not, I saw him at the lake with his shirt off. Believe me, you will want to take a nibble.”

  They arrived at the bus.

  Amanda stuck out her index finger, motioned at the man in the driver’s seat and said to the others. “We want Duncan. No one eats him, except us!”

  The look on Duncan’s face was pure horror.

  “Fine, just help us get in the damn thing,” said one of the other hybrids.

  “What do you think?” Asked Amanda.

  “Let’s try the window.” Lindsey climbed onto the hood.

  Amanda was right behind her.

  They stood like they were playing golf and bashed their weapons into the windshield.

  Screams erupted inside the rig.

  “Listen to that.”

  “It makes my tummy rumble.”

  It didn’t take long before the glass gave way. Lindsey and Amanda cleared the shards and climbed through the entry. Amanda turned the lock at the main door and let the others in.

  Seven humans hid at the rear of the bus. They clung to each other as the monsters approached. They were unarmed, young, and full of life. There was no escape. The rear exit had a mixed group of zombies and hybrids waiting for the people to get desperate enough to try that door.

  Amanda led the way. She held the bat high above her shoulder.

  The people scrunched together.

  Once Amanda got closer, Duncan lashed out with his boot and tried to kick the bat away. He missed by the slightest of margins. Amanda swung and clipped him in the melon.

  His muscular frame fell to the aisle.

  “Grab a wrist,” said Amanda.

  Lindsey lifted one limb as Amanda got the other. The rest of the hybrids cleared a path as they dragged Duncan outside.

  The rest pounced on the defenseless people, chomping and tearing into their supple skin.

  The two ladies laid Duncan face down in the lot.

  Lindsey checked his pulse. “He’s still with us.” She used the axe handle to pin the back of his neck to the ground.

  Amanda tugged at his jeans and let out a whistle. “Scrumptious.”

  “You will want to stay to the outside. Arteries populate the middle meat area of both glutes.”

  Amanda gave her a thumbs up and dove in.

  Duncan’s cries of pain were like classical music to Lindsey’s ears.

  Chapter 23

  Cane’s truck barreled down the highway. His foot pushed to the floorboard in the straightaways. “You find anything?” he asked Scott as he checked his rearview mirror. He made sure they weren’t being followed.

  Scott had his laptop open and his fingers flew across the keys. “Info is tough to find. Most places don’t have power, or the people are dead.”

  “Or they’re too busy surviving to do a Facebook update,” sneered Cane. “There’s got to be someone mentioning zombies with one black eye, that can talk and use goddamn weapons.”

  Scott scrunched his face, “She had one black eye?”

  “Damn straight. Amanda had one black eye, said she had been bitten hours ago. Other than that, she acted totally normal.” Cane ran his hand through his greasy blonde hair.

  “Let’s see.” Scott typed some more. Scrolled through a few pages.

  “Are we getting close to Paul?” asked Cane as perspiration poured from his body. He flipped on the air-conditioning and pointed the vents toward his face.

  Scott opened a different page, centered the map, and found the blue dot. “They’re on the outskirts of town, and they have stopped. Three intersections from here, take a right.”

  “Isn’t the tracker on the bus and Paul was in that Hummer? What if he ain’t even there?”

  Cane sent the air down the sleeve of his T-shirt to cool his overheated body.

  “It’s our best lead until we get close enough to radio him.”

  “You got a radio on ya, Hoss? Cause mine’s in the shop.” Cane shook his head.

  Scott reached for his pocket. His memory jumped to when he took a seat in the office at the church and set the radio on the table next to him.

  “No.”

  Cane lowered his brow. “We could be driving toward anyone then? I don’t want to remind you we ain’t got a drop of water or a scrap of food,” Cane lifted the axe from the floor, “this is the best weapon we have to protect ourselves. If we don’t locate your Brother Paul and that Hummer, we’re gonna find our asses in the belly of a beast.”

  “If you can think of a better way to find him, let me know.” Scott returned to his primary search. He typed a little and scrolled. “Here,” he pointed at the screen. “Let me see.” Scott read and scrolled through the page.

  “Well? Does it explain anything?”

  “There’s not a ton of info, but this article claims these infected with a single dark eye started springing up this morning. And according to this it’s happening all over the globe.” Scott pulled off his glasses and rubbed his sore sockets.

  “It doesn’t say how this happened?”

  “There’s no explanation. We had a doctor investigating the virus and she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Maybe scientists are locked away in the CDC trying to figure out a cure, but if they have discovered a rational reason for the dead coming back to life or any explanation as to why there are now ‘hybrids’ as this article calls them. They’re not broadcasting a single word of it.” Scott replaced his glasses and continued to read.

  “Well, I’m thoroughly depressed.” Cane reached for his CD player and clicked it on. He skipped a few tracks back to the number one song on the CD and turned up the volume.

  An iconic guitar riff by Angus Young blasted through the speakers.

  Then the drums.

  Then Bon Scott’s voice.

  Cane sang along and surprisingly, he sounded pretty damn good, “It ain’t easy, living free...”

  AC/DC’s Highway to Hell summed up this moment in time perfectly.

  Troy slung his shotgun to his back and raced across the street to Sara. She dropped the bow, collapsed into his arms and wept. Troy searched for something better to say other than, “It’s okay,” but it was the best his brain could put together.

  Jim exited the bus and limped across the street. The first thing he did was check Ryder’s body. Making sure the asshole was gone. An arrow stuck through both sides of the man’s skull. Jim touched his wrist and couldn’t find a pulse.

  “Is that son-of-a-bitch dead?” asked Troy.

  “He’s not complaining about the arrow through his face. So, I’d say yes.”

  Jim observed Ryder’s extensive wounds. The man was torn to shreds. He had a busted nose and a destroyed calf muscle. Cuts and gouges all over his face and hands. Jim realized he was kind of describing himself.

  Sara got control of herself and asked, “Where the hell were you guys?”

  Troy ran his hand through her hair and brushed a few strands from her teary eyes. “We didn’t want to abandon you.”

  Jim stepped closer and Sara reached out for him too.

  Sara sniffled, “Were you even looking for me?”

  She embraced Jim, dragging a trail of snot and tears from one man’s chest to the other. “Hey kiddo, it was the hardest call we had to make all day. Shawna snagged the keys from Leon and took off with the bus.”

  “You had to get the bus before me?”

  Jim gave her a firm hug and patted her back. “I put the girls on the rig to hide them when Ryder attacked you. Before we could hunt him down, Shawna took off with the girls.”

  “But we raced right back after we got them. We even brought h
elp to find you,” said Troy as he pointed to the Hummer.

  Sara pulled away from Jim and ran her hands across her eyes to wipe away the tears. She spotted the military vehicle and didn’t recognize anyone except Shawna. She glanced at the bus and the two little ones were waving at her. They both had bright smiles and a set of matching chocolate mustaches.

  “I would have gone after them, too.” She brushed away the last of her tears and calmed herself. “Who’s the National Guard?”

  Brother Paul stepped from the vehicle and surveyed the scene. Shawna was right behind him.

  Jim spoke quietly so only the three of them could hear, “You remember Brother Paul and his band of Jesus loving gun fanatics?”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  Brother Paul moved their direction. Shawna grabbed a medical pack and followed him.

  “Sara Foster?” said Paul as he extended his hand toward her.

  “Yeah.” Sara hesitated, her mind trying to wrap itself around this new paradigm.

  “It’s nice to see you again.” Paul’s hand remained extended.

  She took it and gave him a solid shake. “Sure.”

  He motioned to Ryder’s corpse and said, “From what I’ve heard about this gentleman. You’ve done the world a favor.”

  Sara clutched her sore ribs and held a seemingly permanent grimace.

  Shawna stepped closer and opened the medical kit. “You’ve got a cut on your brow. You want me to bandage it?”

  Sara flung venom at the woman. “Why did you take the fucking bus?”

  Shawna tightened her stance. “I saw a chance to get back to my people. I’m sorry about the timing.” She clenched her jaw. “What would you have done?”

  Sara fought against the urge to deck the woman. Her hands trembled. Muscles twitched. But no good would come from it and she was exhausted from fighting. She pushed past Shawna and Paul. “I’ll be on the bus.” She limped toward the rig.

  Troy looked down at Ryder. He was glad the man was gone but wished Sara didn’t have to be the one to end him. She was one of the bravest people he had ever met, yet it wasn’t valor that drove her to take the man’s life. It was something darker. Troy feared that Ryder might have stripped away layers of Sara’s humanity and perhaps there were pieces she would never get back.

  You push anyone for long enough and they’ll snap. Troy reasoned to himself.

  He wondered, could she bounce back from such a trauma?

  Karen killed a man to save her husband. Sara did it out of revenge.

  Troy contemplated and stewed as he fished out a pack of smokes from his pocket. He remembered the promise he had made to finish burying Desiree and her father once they returned.

  “There’s something I need to take care of before we go,” said Troy as he fired up his lighter and puffed clouds of smoke into the air.

  Shawna glanced at Desiree’s house and asked, “Would you like some help?”

  Troy let the cigarette hang from the corner of his mouth as he considered her offer. Coming to a decision, he said, “No,” and headed for the house. Smoke billowed over his shoulder as he walked.

  He looked to Sara inside the bus. She had her head against the backrest. Eyes closed. She appeared exhausted and pale.

  A part of Troy wished he was the one to save her. He knew it was chauvinistic and old fashioned. She didn’t need him to protect her. He just wanted to be there for her when she needed him the most.

  As he drew near to the house, Troy took in the mounds of dead that filled this little street. It dawned on him, there was a high probability he would get the chance to protect her and everyone else on the bus at least once before this day ended.

  A tremor in his hand vibrated so bad his whole arm shook. He tucked it close to his body until he got the shaking under control.

  That’s been getting worse. Troy massaged his fist and flexed his fingers.

  I’ll figure it out later. He stepped into Desiree’s home and headed for the half-finished grave.

  Jim grabbed the crossbow and went after Sara’s spear, the handgun and Ryder’s backpack.

  He admired the construction and choice of tools Sara used to defend herself. He turned toward Paul and said, “We found her and have the bus. I’m guessing you’ll be on your way?”

  Paul straightened himself and held his hands behind his back. “My group needs medical supplies and judging by the amount of tape holding you together, your group could use them as well.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “We work together, find a pharmacy, get you settled wherever you think would be best. Then we will be on our way.”

  Jim contemplated. “Why are you so willing to help?”

  “Like I said, we need the supplies, too. I think we would have a better chance if we worked together, rather than fighting over the same scrap of gauze. Don’t you?”

  There wasn’t any reason to discuss it with the group, the decision was easy. Having a Hummer and four extra guns against hordes of zombies or other scavengers was a no brainer.

  Jim reached out and slapped Brother Paul on the shoulder. “Once we’re done here we’ll lead the way to the pharmacy.”

  “What must you finish?” asked Paul.

  Shawna closed the med kit and tucked it under her arm. “They were in the middle of burying two bodies.”

  Paul motioned to the street. “Only two?”

  “One was part of our group. The other, her father,” grunted Jim as he organized the armful of weapons and supplies. He stepped from the curb and headed for the bus.

  “Shawna, why don’t you rest in the Hummer while Cooper and I help speed this along?” Paul gently touched her hand as he turned for their vehicle.

  Leon watched Shawna walk toward the Hummer. The secrets hidden inside her tight jeans called to him. With every sway of her hips they whispered, ‘Leon… Leon…We want Leon.’

  He hated how much power he willingly gave to the women around him.

  I turn into a puppy, roll to my back, hope they rub my belly and tell me I’m a good boy.

  It’s pathetic.

  I did it with Karen. Then Shawna. Plus, every other woman before them.

  When will I learn? Leon wished he could switch off his sex drive.

  It would make life a thousand times easier. He told himself as he crossed his arms in a huff. He studied Shawna’s curves until she disappeared into the vehicle.

  The swelling in his slacks could no longer be ignored. If he didn’t take care of this issue right away, it was going to detonate in his pants. He was long overdue, and the mess would be legendary.

  Leon jumped from his seat and headed down the steps of the bus. He blurted out. “I’m going to help Troy,” as he passed Jim.

  Desiree’s got to have a bottle of lotion in there. Leon prayed as he bolted for the master bathroom. With the delays in his normal routine, Leon was sure this one would be done in record time. He just hoped he made it to a private space before his pancake batter went off.

  Paul picked up his rifle from the back seat. “They have some people they wish to lay to rest before we disembark. Cooper, could you assist them?”

  Cooper stepped from the rig. “Sir, we got Shawna. They have their children and their missing person. Shouldn’t we head back to the church and try to fortify the perimeter?”

  Lisa killed the engine and said, “I agree, we should get back to our own people.”

  “I understand your apprehension. I don’t enjoy being away from everyone myself. When we evacuated we did an amazing job grabbing the guns and ammo, but we left all Doctor Bryant’s supplies.”

  “The trailer should have what we need,” said Cooper as he closed his door and rounded the front of the rig.

  Paul rolled up a sleeve. “I’m sure it has plenty of Band Aids. I’m talking real medicine. We have close to a hundred children in our care. We need supplies for them or anyone that sustains a severe injury.”

  Alayna rested herself on t
he machine gun. “We could get that ourselves. Why wait for these people?”

  “What if it was us that needed assistance? Wouldn’t you want someone to stop and help?” Paul worked at the next sleeve. “I know we pride ourselves on being self-reliant, but those days are gone. We will have to depend on all types of people if we wish to survive. The only way to forge lasting relationships is to help each other. Even if it isn’t in your best interest at the time.”

  Paul turned and headed for the house leaving the group to ponder.

  Cooper smirked, “You think he ever gets tired of being right all the time?”

  “No, it’s his superpower,” said Lisa as she shook her head. “Just help him get this done fast so we can hit the road.”

  Cooper gave a half-hearted salute and jogged toward the house.

  Lisa peeked at her rearview mirror and noticed Shawna slumped in her seat. She turned to face her, reached for her knee and said, “I know you’ve had it rough, but listen, we’ve all been through the ringer.” She gave Shawna a playful bump with her fist. “Keep your head up. I don’t care what those people on the bus think. I know you did the right thing.”

  Shawna offered her friend a smile. “Thank you.” She tapped at the tan colored metal wall of the Hummer. “How did you get this beast?”

  Lisa grinned, “It wasn’t easy.”

  Jim loaded the new gear onto the war rig. He set everything in a pile close to the other weapons. Maybe it was the loss of blood or the mix of pain pills and beer sloshing around in his gut. Perhaps it was the trifecta working together to ease his suffering, but the world seemed brighter. Yes, they were surrounded by death. The odds were clearly stacked against them. There was little hope of making it through even the next couple of days, but for this fleeting moment everything was as good as it was going to get.

  Jim desperately held on to this moment in time. Nothing had tried to kill them or take their stuff for almost five full minutes.

 

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