“No…we can’t,” Chas agreed.
“And we don’t have much time either,” Emily said. “If we can’t find the convoy, we’ll have to come up with a plan ourselves.”
“Did any of them mention where they were going?” Chas asked.
“No, but if the CDC was on the hunt for something big, I’d guess they went to a medical facility. Maybe to find research or notes.”
“Or, they could’ve gone to a government facility,” Vanessa mused.
“That’s possible.”
“Well, let’s try the hospital and clinic first, then the civic center,” Chas suggested. “We can keep our eyes peeled for any sign of them along the way.”
“Or other survivors,” Dean said.
“Right,” Vanessa said with a nod. “It shouldn’t be too hard to spot them. Red Rock is pretty small, and their vehicles are pretty big.”
“It’s a plan,” Emily said, and once again silence fell as Vanessa steered them toward the city proper, each one staring at their surroundings hoping to spot the convoy.
They’d barely gone more than a few miles when an ominous sound filled the cab. The rattling of an empty engine. At the same time, the truck slowed, losing power as it sucked up the last few drops of fuel in the tank.
“What the…” Vanessa pulled over to the curb and slammed her hands on the wheel. “We’re out of gas. I can’t believe it.”
“You never noticed we were running low?” Emily asked, her voice tinged with disbelief and anger.
“I’m not used to driving, okay, Miss Perfect?” Vanessa retaliated, her cheeks turning bright red.
Emily sputtered. “I never said I was perfect!”
“You don’t have to. It oozes from your pores,” Vanessa said before slumping over the wheel. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid of me, I know. I should’ve checked.”
Chas sighed. “Come on, you two. It’s nobody fault, and there’s no point fighting about it.”
Emily pressed her lips together for a second before nodding. “You’re right, Chas. I’m sorry, Vanessa.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just find a way out of this mess so I can feel like less of a dumbass,” Vanessa said.
“I can hotwire a car,” Chas said.
Three sets of eyes turned her way filled with disbelief.
“You know how to hotwire a car?” Dean asked.
“Yup. My uncle taught me. If the model’s old enough, I can do it,” Chas said.
“Now I’m just jealous,” Dean cried. “How come you have the cool uncle teaching you how to throw knives and boost cars?”
Chas laughed. “Uncle Al’s the best, I know.” She sobered. “I hope he’s still alive. My aunt too.”
“I’m sure he is. He sounds like a survivor,” Dean said.
“Well, thanks to him, we might just live to see tomorrow,” Emily said. “But first, we need to find a car for Chas to hotwire, or we’re not going anywhere.”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Vanessa prompted.
They got out of the truck and looked around. A faint breeze blew a curl of hair into Chas’ face, and she swept it aside as she surveyed the area. A few cars were parked along the curb, but none of them looked like good candidates. Too new.
“Let’s grab our stuff and walk up the street. We’re bound to find something,” Chas suggested.
“Okay,” Emily replied.
One by one, they removed their backpacks from the back of the truck before walking further up the road. It was quiet, at first. The only sounds to be heard were their shoes on the asphalt, Chas’ crutches, and the cooing of doves in the trees.
They’d gone about a block when a different noise caused the hair on Chas’ arms to stand erect. She froze in place and looked around. “Guys. Hold up.”
The rest halted.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
Ominous silence reigned as everyone listened closely.
Emily’s eyes grew wide. “What is that?”
“Feet. It sounds like feet,” Chas replied, recognizing the slap of numerous soles on the tar road.
“Where is it coming from?” Emily cried.
“I don’t know,” Chas replied as fear coursed through her veins.
“Over there,” Dean said, pointing down a side street.
At the same time, Chas spotted them too. A group of infected was running toward them at breakneck speed. Too many to fight. They had to be fresh too because they were fast. “We’ve got incoming. Run!”
As one, Chas and her friends broke into a sprint, heading in the opposite direction. She hobbled along as best as she could on her crutches but was soon overtaken by the rest. When she glanced behind, fresh terror spurted through her limbs when she saw how close the infected were. Dropping the crutches, she ran without them, ignoring the pain in her leg.
“Hurry!” Vanessa cried to Chas and Emily, her long legs taking her far ahead of the rest. Dean was close behind, his football practice coming to good use.
Chas ran as fast as she could, and so did Emily, but they were hampered by their backpacks. Chas soon realized they wouldn’t make it, and screamed at Emily. “Drop your pack.”
Emily cast her a wild look before obeying. Her pack tumbled to the ground, loaded with supplies. Chas swerved out of the way, but the infected on her heels didn’t. Two crashed into the rolling canvas missile and were bowled over in a flurry of arms and legs.
“Run, Emily! Faster!” Chas cried. Without her pack, Emily was able to speed up, closing the gap between her and the others.
Chas lagged behind, her leg aching with each step she took. Another look showed her the infected were so close she could almost feel them breathing down her neck. Their grunts were terrifying, as was the crazed look in their eyes and the blood staining their teeth.
She shrugged off her backpack too, dropping it to the ground. Another zombie tripped over it, taking two more of its friends down with it. This granted her a small lead. She took advantage of the slight gap, pushing her body to its limits. But her leg was on fire, and she soon realized she’d never make it. Her friends were far ahead, far enough that they stood a chance. Maybe, I can lead the zombies away…help my friends escape.
She cast around for shelter, and spotted a book shop with its doors half open. Its windows were intact, and she reasoned she could barricade the entrance with a shelf or something. Swerving to the side, she aimed for it, bursting inside with mere seconds to spare.
Chas pushed the doors shut, but there was no time to reinforce them. The infected slammed against the glass with frustrated growls, and it was all she could do to hold them closed. Digging in her heels, she wedged her body against the handles while her feet sought purchase on the slippery floor.
It was a losing battle.
The zombies rammed against the entrance, throwing their bodies forward with furious rage. Their fists sounded a staccato beat in her ears, one that matched the terrified beating of her heart.
Chas bit down on her lip as her legs began to shake. The rubber soles of her hiking boots squeaked on the floor as they slid forward.
One inch…two inches…three.
A gap opened behind her, and questing fingers clawed at her shoulders and hair. Tears slid down her cheeks as Chas realized the terrifying truth. There was no escape. Not this time.
Chapter 16
“There has to be a way out. Think!” Chas cried, striving to focus through the all-consuming panic that had a hold of her brain.
She looked at the interior of the shop, casting around for a way out. It was big. Shelf upon shelf of books lined the open space. Smaller displays stood all around, advertising the latest bestsellers, and a counter lined the far wall.
Chas vaguely remembered going there once with Lala, but her grandmother preferred the secondhand book shop next to the deli. As such, her recollections of the place were hazy at best, and she couldn’t see a way out. No other exit, no hiding spots. Nothing.
Just when she was about to
give up, Chas spotted a sign on the far wall. It sported the stick figures of a man and a woman each. Hope flared in her chest. “A bathroom!”
Propping herself up against the door, she prepared to make a dash for the ladies bathroom, praying that it was empty. If it wasn’t, the gig was up, and she’d never make it out alive. “Oh, well. Here goes nothing.”
Chas launched herself forward, sprinting in a straight line for the toilet door beckoning from the far wall. Behind her, the doors burst open. Caught by surprise, the infected fell over their own feet and ended up in a pile on the floor.
As she ran, she pulled down the smaller displays behind her, creating a slippery carpet of books. This further hindered the zombies’ efforts, and she was able to reach the bathroom well ahead of them.
Throwing herself inside, she slammed the door shut and twisted the lock. Moments later, thuds sounded as the infected beat against the barrier, their enraged snarls filling the tiny space.
Chas didn’t waste a moment, whirling around with her hand on the hilt of her knife. Luckily, the toilet was empty, and she allowed herself to relax for a few precious moments and catch her breath. She didn’t dare wait too long, however. The infected weren’t willing to give up, and she doubted the flimsy lock would last very long.
On wobbly legs, Chas investigated the tiny room. There was a row of windows above the washbasin. They were long and narrow, but she reckoned she could squeeze through. With her teeth gritted against the pain in her leg, she clambered onto the marble counter and swept aside the lacy curtains. The windows were covered with burglar bars, the steel rods preventing her escape.
“No!” With a sob of despair, Chas slumped to her knees. “No, no, no, no.”
For a moment, Chas considered giving up. The sounds made by the zombies filled her ears, worming into her skull until it was all she could hear.
Give up, their growls insinuated.
Give in, their snarls said.
It’ll only hurt for a minute.
The door shuddered in its frame as the infected beat against it, and she knew she didn’t have long to wait. With tears running down her face, she sat hunched in a ball, preparing for the inevitable. Her shaking hand fumbled for the gun at her side. I can end it now. It wouldn’t hurt at all. I wouldn’t have to feel their teeth sinking into my flesh.
Then Chas thought of Lala and all the other people waiting back at the camp for a rescue that would never come. I can’t give up on them. On her. I have to try.
Filled with new determination, Chas rose to her feet. She pulled the screwdriver and hatchet from her belt and got to work on the burglar bars. Placing the sharp end of the screwdriver against the bits where the rods were soldered to the frame, she hammered at it with the back end of the hatchet.
Chips of paint and plaster flew through the air, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she loosened first the one, then the second, and lastly the third bar. Luckily, the stuff was old, built years before, and came loose without too much trouble.
She worked with frantic haste, ever aware of the pounding on the door behind her. Once the rods were loose, she grabbed them and leaned sideways, bending them out of the way. Even as she leaned, the lock on the bathroom door groaned. The metal twisted and bent out of shape. She was out of time.
Dropping the tools, she shoved the window open and launched herself through the opening. The edges of the frame cut into her belly, and the bent burglar bars scraped against her side as she wiggled through.
A thundering crash spurred her on as the bathroom door exploded inward. Howling zombies raced inside and fingers plucked at her denim pants with desperate hunger.
Pure panic surged through her veins, and Chas pitched forward in a last ditch effort to escape the grasping hands. Her body slithered through the window like a snake, one shoe staying behind when it caught on the window sill.
Chas didn’t care. She cared about nothing except the pavement that came rushing up to meet her as she tumbled headfirst to the ground. She threw up her arms and closed her eyes as the wind whistled past her ears.
With a loud crack, she hit the concrete, pain shooting through her arms as they took the brunt of her fall. Her body folded in on itself, and her head caught a glancing blow that sent stars spinning in front of her eyes. Chas fought against the advancing wave of darkness that threatened to send her spiraling into oblivion.
“Can’t pass…out. Not…now.” But the urge was too strong, and the fight left her muscles as reality faded away.
Above her, the zombies vied with each other for the small open space, each trying to fight its way through to the delectable meal that lay waiting below. Just waiting. So close, they could almost taste it.
Chapter 17
Chas drifted in a sea of black, her body limp with exhaustion. She was tired of fighting, tired of running. All she wanted to do was sleep. But an insistent tugging refused to let her rest, and her eyelids fluttered open. “Leave me alone.”
The tugging didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse.
Fingers gripped her leg, the tips digging into her calf muscles. It hurt, and Chas shook the offending limb with a weak cry. “Let go!”
A growl rose in answer to her cry, and adrenalin spiked through her bloodstream. Zombie.
Chas struggled upright on her elbows and focused on the hunched figure of an infected tearing at her pant leg with its teeth. It snarled when their eyes met, its muscles bunching as it prepared to launch itself at her throat.
A blurred figure rushed past Chas and whacked the zombie in the head with a baseball bat. It fell away, and Chas blinked, trying to make sense of everything that was happening around her. “Who are you?”
The figure ignored her, continuing to beat the infected man’s skull to mush. Finally, her rescuer turned and grabbed her by the arm. It was a girl, her eyes a piercing green in her tanned face. “Come on. We have to go.”
Even as the girl spoke, another zombie fell through the window. It landed with a thud, and Chas found herself stumbling to her feet. The earth spun, and she stood still for a moment to regain her bearings. “Just…give me a second.”
The girl shook her shoulder. “We don’t have time for this. Snap out of it.”
“What? Where…” Chas mumbled, her brain still foggy and unfocused. A sharp sting on her cheek brought her back to reality with brutal clarity. “Ow, you hit me.”
“If you don’t follow me now, much worse will happen to you,” the girl said, whirling around. She ran off, and after a second of hesitation, Chas followed.
They were in an alleyway, the sides lined with old, rotting garbage and overflowing trash cans. It stank, but Chas hardly noticed, so intent was she on keeping up with her surprise rescuer.
The girl was fast, and her slim figure moved with the grace of a deer. Chas was hard put to stay with her and soon began to limp as her injured leg threatened to give out. A sharp, stabbing pain shot up the limb with every step she took, and her breath rasped in and out of her lungs like a saw.
“In here,” the girl cried, opening a backdoor in the wall of the alley. She ducked out of sight, and Chas followed.
Inside, it was pitch black, and she paused as the girl slammed the door shut and locked it. At least, they were safe from the zombies for the moment. “Where are we?”
“No talking. Just follow my lead,” the girl said, gripping Chas’ hand with cool fingers.
A few steps lead them to another door, this one opening into a department store filled with racks of clothing. Dim light streamed in through a couple of windows set high up in the walls, and the ceiling loomed far above their heads.
“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. I haven’t cleared this place yet. There might be zombies,” the girl said in a low whisper before disappearing between two rows.
“You haven’t…zombies?” Chas mumbled as horror set in. She quickly drew the gun from its holster on her belt and gripped it with both hands. She’d had no chance to use it earlier, not against the
mob that chased her, but now it might just save her life.
Her mouth dried up as she stepped forward into the murky store, brushing past a rack of coats. A mannequin appeared to the right, and she almost shot it in the head. “Cool it, Chas. Remember what Alvarez and Julia taught you.”
With the gun held ready, she moved forward, heading for the front of the store. It seemed deserted, but it was hard to tell. Who knew what lurked between the racks? “Hello?” she whispered.
An answering growl caused the hair on the back of her neck rise, and Chas whirled in time to see a zombie reach for her with long fingers. It must have been a sales lady once, a woman in her twenties with blonde hair wearing a pink suit.
The zombie lurched toward her, and Chas jumped backward with a cry only to smash into the rack behind her. It scraped across the floor, and articles of clothing tumbled to the ground as Chas scrambled to put distance between her and the zombie lady.
Raising the gun, she put two bullets into the woman’s forehead, dropping her instantly. The shots echoed throughout the store, and her ears rang from the report. She turned and fled, running into one rack after the other, mannequins looming around every corner to mock her with their blank faces. A hand grasped her shoulder, and she screamed, raising her gun, ready to shoot.
“Stop. It’s me!” a voice cried. It was the girl again.
“It’s you,” Chas gasped. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“No time. Follow me before more come. They’re drawn to noise,” the girl said, before setting off again.
Gritting her teeth, Chas followed, ignoring the various aches and pains she suffered from. They soon reached the front of the shop and hunched behind a display to survey the street.
“What now?” Chas asked, stiffening when a trio of infected ran past the glass doors.
“Beats me,” the girl said. “I was heading to the church when I saw you and your friends run past.”
“The church?”
“Yeah, I heard on the radio there are survivors there,” the girl said.
“Survivors?”
Gen X: The Undead Adventures of Chas (A Young Adult Zombie Apocalypse Thriller Book 3) Page 9
