Nikki's Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

by Sarah Bale

  Noah asks, “Rock, paper, scissors?”

  “No. We’ll draw branches.” She grabs five twigs and turns her back to us as she breaks them.

  I don’t like this one bit, but I know better than to fight her.

  She turns and says, “Whoever draws the short stick is staying behind. No if, ands, or buts. Got it?”

  We nod. Jeff draws first and smiles, holding up his branch. Noah is next. Then Harper. Fuck me.

  Nikki says, “It’s down to you, Dave.”

  I look at the two branches in her fist, trying to gauge which one is the short one. They both look the fucking same. Glaring, I pick one. And draw the short stick.

  Nikki kisses me and says, “We’ll hurry.”

  Harper winks at me before following Nikki. I don’t like this one fucking bit. But what choice do I have?

  Nikki

  I feel bad for leaving Dave behind, but not bad enough to volunteer to stay. Not when Rocco is out there, alone, possibly hurt. Harper takes my hand into his big one, warming my cool skin.

  He says, “Smells like winter. Bet we get snow tonight.”

  “It’s kind of early for that, isn’t it?”

  He shrugs. “Mother Nature doesn’t give a damn about us.”

  We’re silent as we make our way through the brush. It’s crazy how different Oklahoma is than the other places we’ve been.

  Harper pulls out the radio. “Rocco, do you copy?”

  There’s no reply from him.

  “Guys, we’re picking you up loud and clear,” Noah says.

  He and Jeff went in the opposite direction than us.

  “Any tracks where you’re at?” Harper asks.

  “Nothing fresh. What about you?”

  Harper glances down. “Nothing here. We’re moving east.”

  He slips the radio into his pocket, taking my hand again. I love that this gentle giant feels comfortable touching me now.

  I squeeze his hand. “We’re going to find him.”

  “Hope so. I’ve had a bad feeling since we got to Oklahoma.”

  We search the back side of the shopping mall. There’s a wooded area behind it. My skin prickles, as if I’m being watched.

  “Harper, I think someone is out there.”

  His hand moves to his gun. “Just thinking the same thing. Get behind me.”

  I do as he says. His entire body is tense as he looks around. Finally, he lifts the radio.

  “What’s your location?”

  “Rounding our way back. Status?”

  “The trees have eyes.”

  “Copy that. We hear birds.”

  Harper nods to himself and puts the radio in his pocket.

  “What in the heck was that about?” I whisper.

  “Letting them know our thoughts. Noah is going to gain some altitude to see if he sees anything.”

  Nothing happens for a moment. When Jeff comes around the building, joining us I become worried.

  “Where’s Noah?”

  Jeff nods his head toward the building. Noah is on the top, looking through binoculars into the woods. He climbs down a moment later.

  “How many did you see?” Harper asks.

  “Saw a dune buggy driving away. There’s something out there, though. Couldn’t make it out.”

  “Was it a biter?” I ask.

  Noah replies, “I’m not sure. Only one way to find out.”

  I don’t like this. Not one fucking bit. But he’s right. There’s only one way for us to know what’s out there.

  Harper says, “We go in twos. Nikki and I will take the east. You two go to the west. We’ll meet by the object. If it goes south, fire twice and then save yourself. We’ll meet up at the house.”

  My heart is pounding. The guys don’t seem as worried, but they’re used to shit like this. I pull my gun out and ready it, following Harper. Our feet crunch on the leaves as we walk.

  Harper says in a low tone, “They’ve been through here. See the tire marks?”

  Glancing down, I see the tracks in the mud. There’s also footprints. And blood.

  “Harper.”

  He says, “I know. I see.”

  I begin to shake as fearful images build in my mind. What if those people had got him? What if-

  Harper touches my arm. “Don’t think like that, Nikki. We don’t know what’s happened. There’s no sense in jumping to conclusions.”

  It’s hard not to. Nodding, I follow him through the brush and trees. Ahead, I see something on the ground. I take off running as Harper calls out to me.

  “Nikki! Stop! It could be a trap!”

  As I get closer I begin to panic. There’s so much blood everywhere. And then I see him. Rushing forward, I drop to Rocco’s side. He’s so still. I worry that I’m too late. Reaching out, I touch his face.

  He moans as his eyes flutter open. “Get out of here while you can!”

  “Oh thank god. I thought-” I can’t even finish my sentence.

  Harper reaches us. “Can you walk?”

  “Negative. They shot me in the leg. Can’t get the bleeding to stop, either.”

  I notice how pale he is. How his lips have a blue tint.

  “How long have you been out here?”

  He replies, “Too long. They’re out here, toying with me. We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Harper pulls the radio from his pocket. “Guys, we need to exit. Pronto.”

  Noah comes back. “We have you in our sights. All clear behind you.”

  Harper says to me, “Get on the other side of Rocco.”

  He tugs Rocco to his feet. Rocco sways and I think he’s going to pass out for a moment. I go to the other side and put Rocco’s arm around my shoulder. He leans heavily on me.

  Harper says, “I know you’ve given all you can, man, but I need you to push through. When we get to the others, we can carry you. But this part is on you.”

  Rocco simply moans. We go as fast as we can, which gets harder with each step that we take. Rocco faints twice, making us tug him between us. We’re both panting by the time we get out of the woods. Jeff and Noah rush toward us, grabbing Rocco’s legs. We move down the street, being as alert as we can.

  Jeff says, “Saw a couple of them driving off. I think they might be circling around.”

  Harper replies, “Rocco said they’d been fucking with him out there.”

  Jeff looks so guilt stricken as he says, “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let him go outside alone.”

  I wish there was a way to make him feel better, but I know that nothing I say will help.

  Noah curses. “Fuck me! They’ve been here. Look.”

  The side of the building has a simple message spray painted on it.

  Our reach is far and this game is about to end.

  Harper says, “We’re sitting ducks. We need to get back to the house.”

  Panic riots within me. “What if they got Dave while we were out here?”

  No one replies. Instead, we run as fast as we can down the street. The house is in sight and nothing is amiss.

  Jeff yells out, “Dave?”

  The front door opens and Dave is there, unharmed. When he sees us carrying Rocco he moves into action, taking my spot carrying Rocco. We enter the house and put Rocco on the couch. I go to the dining room and rip a table clothing, making a tourniquet.

  Rocco is still as I tie the material around his leg. It soaks with blood, so I pull it tighter.

  “What happened out there?” Dave asks.

  Harper replies, “They’re out there. Said this is our final warning.”

  Jeff adds, “They have us beat on this one, Dave.”

  Dave curses. “We need a plan. Were you able to find a vehicle?”

  Jeff shakes his head.

  “Fuck. We can’t carry him. It leaves us open for attack.”

  Noah says, “I have an idea. There’s a wagon in the garage. We might be able to pull him.”

  Dave stares at Noah before nodding. “It will
have to work.” He checks Rocco. “He’s still out. Might be for the best because this is going to hurt.”

  I ask, “What route are we going to take?”

  Dave says, “They’ve followed us this far. There’s no point is trying to lose them. I say we take the same route and get to the hospital as fast as we can.”

  We gather our supplies. Noah and Jeff go outside first. When they’re sure we’re safe, they wave us out. Dave and Harper pull the wagon as we make our way back to the main road. One good thing about being in the open is that we can see what’s coming.

  We go as fast as we can, taking turns pulling the wagon. Rocco stirs a few times, quickly passing out. When we stop under a tree to take a break, I check the tourniquet. Rocco’s leg is still bleeding and that worries me.

  Noah says, “It’s ironic that the one person trained in field medicine is the one who was shot.”

  I’d thought the same thing. Rocco would know what to do to stop the bleeding. My skills feel inadequate in this situation.

  Dave says, “We need to go. Is he doing okay?”

  I reply, “He’s out. And his wound is still bleeding.”

  Dave doesn’t reply. Instead, he takes the handle and jogs, the others following his pace. I’m fairly fit, but I’m having a hard time keeping up with them.

  Harper falls in step next to me.

  He says, “This reminds me of being back in basic training. All the cadence drills we had to do.”

  “That explains how you’re able to do this so well.”

  “Just make a rhythm in your mind and step to it. It helps.”

  He begins to hum and I notice his steps match the tune. I follow suit and am surprised when it actually works. He gives me a grin, picking up his pace.

  But, a person can only do so much and I soon begin to tire. My feet ache and I certain there are blisters forming on my skin.

  “Dave. I need a break.”

  He nods, but I can tell he’s not happy. We stop again and I sit, rubbing my calves. Noah does the same, giving me a wry smile.

  Dave says, “We’re close guys. Maybe three miles out. When we get to ninetieth street, we’ll go west. Hospital will be a half a mile from there, on the south side of the road.”

  Jeff replies, “Let’s go then. Sun will be setting before too long.”

  And the air is starting to get cold, again. I look at Rocco, who’s skin is even paler. This is it. Our last shot at getting somewhere safe. I don’t even want to think about the other alternatives.

  I say, “Let’s do this. For Rocco.”

  Dave nods. “For Rocco.”

  “For Rocco.” Harper agrees.

  Jeff says, “For Rocco.”

  Noah grabs the handle to the wagon. “For Rocco.”

  Rule 14: Do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.

  Fifteen

  Nikki

  We push through the last few miles will all the strength we have. By the time we reach ninetieth street, the sky is dark and the temperature has dropped even more. My teeth chatter as we run and I can’t feel my fingers.

  Dave says, “Just a bit more, guys.”

  We pass a burned house and my stomach churns. What if there’s nothing there? What then?

  A massive fence comes into sight, protecting something big. We go to two large metal gates. There’re obvious signs that something has gone down here.

  Jeff glances at Dave. “You sure this is the right place?”

  Dave nods. “Yeah. This is it. Hospital should be here.”

  He goes to the gate, tapping. I want to call him back, but he won’t listen. Not when we’ve come so far.

  “Who’s there?” a voice from the inside answers.

  Harper puts his hand on my lower back. It makes me feel a little better, but not much. Because all I can think is that Dave is in danger. He shouldn’t be in front of that gate with no protection!

  “Name’s Dave.”

  “We don’t have a Dave here. Turn around and leave.”

  Dave runs his fingers through his hair. “I need to talk to the man in charge here.”

  A man peers over the top of the gate. He’s one scary-looking mother fucker. Big and burly with a long beard. He has a shotgun over his shoulder.

  “Make an appointment, sweetheart.”

  Dave sighs. “And how does one do that?”

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  Dave shakes his head. “Nope. Took us a while to get here. Would like to at least see the boss before we leave.”

  “Boss, eh? Give me a few.”

  The man disappears and Dave comes back to us.

  Jeff says, “That dude was terrifying.”

  Dave replies, “Hopefully he’s getting us some answers and not more men to kill us.”

  Harper asks, “Should we take Nikki and leave?”

  Dave’s gaze lands on me and I see confliction.

  I reply, “Absolutely not. We’re a team.”

  Before anyone can reply the burly man comes back to his post at the fence.

  “Lucky for you. There’s an appointment available. Tonight. Leave your weapons and your wagon inside the gate.” His gaze narrows. “Don’t try anything, either. You’ll be dead before you finish the thought.”

  One of the gates groans as it opens. We make our way inside and leave our weapons on a table. Harper and Jeff lift Rocco, who stirs. Rocco gives a weak smile and surprises me by not passing out again.

  Above us, there are at least twenty men standing on ledges with their own weapons pointed at us. The burly man climbs down a flight of stairs and comes toward us.

  “Right this way.”

  He leads the way down a path, leaving his back unprotected. I’m not naïve enough to think it’s because he trusts us. It’s because there are people with weapons. Everywhere. We reach another massive gate. It opens and we’re ushered through. Dave reaches down, taking my hand into his own. He gives it a little squeeze.

  A truck pulls up and stops in front of the man.

  He points. “Everyone in the back.”

  We climb inside. He gets into the passenger seat and we take off. Rocco yells out in pain as we’re jolted down the bumpy road.

  Noah, who looks like he’s going to be sick, asks, “Are you one-hundred-percent certain this is the right place?”

  Dave nods. “I’m sure.”

  We turn the corner and a massive building comes into sight. Like the gate, it looks like it’s seen some damage, but obviously there are people living here. There’s a clothesline to the side with laundry hanging.

  The truck comes to a stop and the man gets out.

  “Everyone get out.” When Rocco groans, the man asks, “What happened to him?”

  “He was shot,” I reply.

  The man lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Two more men come over and pat us down, making sure we’re not hiding any weapons.

  When the man is assured we’re clean, he says, “This way.”

  My heart is pounding as we’re led inside the hospital. Harper follows the man with the beard, then Jeff, and then Rocco. I worry he’s going to pass out before we reach our destination. Noah and Dave follow up the end of the group.

  We’re taken to a lobby, which is warm and surprisingly inviting. I’m shocked that they have lights on. How have they managed to keep their electricity on?

  Rocco sits in a chair, moaning. He looks like he’s about to pass out again. I go to his side, checking the bandage. It’s come loose and he’s bleeding again. I’m about to say something when Dave gasps.

  “Holy fuck. I didn’t think I’d really find you here.”

  I glance up and see a man and woman standing at the front of the room. The man is looking at Dave like he’s just seen a ghost. The woman reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze. I realize this must be Dave’s brother.

  The man’s throat bobs. “How did you-”

  Dave answers, “The last letter I got from-”

  R
occo moans and leans heavily onto my shoulder.

  I say, “He’s losing too much blood. I can’t get it to stop.”

  The man comes to our side, squatting.

  To the woman, he says, “Go get my bag from our room.” He turns his attention to Rocco. “Sir, how long has it been since you were shot?”

  Rocco gives me a look, unable to speak.

  I answer, “His name is Rocco and he was shot about three hours ago.” My hands shake as I apply pressure to his leg. “I thought I had the material tied tight enough.”

  The man replies, “Rocco is going to be fine. I just need to get the bullet from his leg and stitch him up.”

  “Thank you.”

  The woman comes back with a bag, handing it to the man.

  He says to her, “We need hot water.”

  She gives him a look. “Jo is bringing it.”

  The man nods and opens his bag, pulling items out. He cuts Rocco’s pants and I cringe when I see all the blood and dirt on Rocco’s skin.

  The man uncaps rubbing alcohol and says, “Rocco, this is going to hurt.”

  Rocco howls in pain and I hold onto him, trying to soothe him.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

  He moans, “Nikki, I feel sick.”

  The woman grabs a waste basket, handing it to me. I barely get it in front of Rocco before he vomits. Another woman enters the room with a bowl full of hot water.

  She asks, “Do you need anything else?”

  The woman answers, “We’re fine.”

  She must be in charge here, because the other woman nods and flees. The man dips the rag into the water, dabbing the skin around Rocco’s wound.

  “Doesn’t appear to have hit the artery, but I won’t know for sure until I get the bullet.”

  The woman hands him forceps and a tourniquet. He ties the tourniquet as tight as he can, which puts mine to shame.

  He says, “Rocco, this isn’t going to feel very good, but I need you to be as still as possible.”

  Harper asks, “Don’t you have anything you can give him?”

  I wondered the same thing. I hate seeing Rocco in so much pain.

  The man replies, “Afraid not. But, it would be helpful if you could hold him down.”