Blake pulls out a small 38 revolver. And a few seconds later holds up the man’s service weapon, a Glock, and looks at me. “Viv?”
I take the offered gun and spare magazine without hesitation. With nimble fingers, I eject the empty one to replace it. Ryan gapes at me, open-mouthed.
Jason whines: “Why does she get the gun?”
“Because I know that she knows how to use it. Do you know how to use it?” Blake counters.
Jason’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds without a sound.
Connor steps forward and, in a quiet voice, offers, “I do.”
“Okay, here, take the ‘38.” Blake looks around at the other boys. “Who else knows how to use a gun?”
“You know how to use that thing?” Ryan looks at me, skeptically.
I don’t take my eye off the gun I’m inspecting. “Yes.” I won’t elaborate.
The Glock seems fine. It also smells like it was recently cleaned. I push it into the waistband of my pants, just like my mom told me not to do. Sorry mom, we don’t have any spare holsters.
The weight of it in my waistband and the coolness of the metal against my bare skin makes me feel safer. Now, I will be able to defend myself.
My phone vibrates; I pull it out and see I have a text from my mom as if her mother sensors knew what I’m doing.
Mom: R U safe?
Me: OUW to meet up w the others.
Mom: Martin is on his way. He will get you and Blake.
Me: U R not coming?
“Texting? Really?” Ryan asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s my mom.”
“Keep your eyes on the ball, Viv.” Blake admonishes me, and I turn beet red. Who would have thought that he and Ryan would actually agree on something?
Me: GTG. LU.
I ignore the vibration of my mom’s answering text and keep my eyes on our surroundings. We make another turn, and the Rodentstatue comes into view. I let out a sigh of relief when a familiar figure appears from behind it. Alex waves at us, right when I notice something moving inside one of the stores.
I pull out my gun and point it at the store to answer Blake’s questioning look.
Chapter 3
“Something moved,” I explain.
“Let’s have a look-see.” Blake's lips take on a determined line.
He tells the others to stay put and keep their eyes open for the other boys and whatever else might be out there. He warns Connor to keep his gun ready before giving me a nod, and we move towards the store.
“Just like we practiced, okay?”
I nod. My throat constricts, and sweat runs down my face. I want to rub it against my sleeve but realize again that I’m only wearing a tank top. Silently I curse myself for being so stupid and vain, but in all fairness, all I could think about this morning was to appear sexy for Ryan. Come nightfall, I will be majorly regretting this move. Blake takes the lead, and just like during our practices, he is cool and collected. His face is a mask of concentration while his eyes dart left and right. I, on the other hand, can see my hand tremble, which is not a good thing while holding a loaded gun at the ready.
Carefully, I take one step over the other, arms down, angled to the side. Just like in the movies. Both hands support the gun, the way I was taught during countless lessons. And the hundreds of times I practiced with Blake. Never mind that at the time, we were children and were playing soldiers. Never mind that at the time, we were holding water guns. Sure, I shot real guns more than I can count, but I never actually moved around with a loaded weapon, leave alone been in a situation where I might need to use it.
A slight noise reaches my ear. Somebody is trying silently to pull snot up their nose. I have yet to find anybody who can pull that off.
“Who’s there?” I ask in a shaky voice.
Blake gives me a withering glare.
‘What?’ my eyes ask right back at him.
He just shakes his head. But it’s not like I’m giving our position away. Whoever is in here knows we are here; they saw us.
“Come out, or we’ll shoot,” I warn.
A small hiccup is all I get as a response. With a rising suspicion,, I drop my gun back into my waistband. Now Blake stares downright angry at meas I crouch down on all fours and slowly and awkwardly duckwalk towards the giant round clothes rack.
The noise came from underneath it. It’s filled with shirts and sweaters, so close together,, it’s hard to see inside. I use both of my hands to pull them apart.
A pair of huge, frightened brown eyes stare up at me. “Please don’t shoot me. Are you a monster?”
I stretch my arms out towards the little girl, who cannot be older than four years old. “I’m not a monster. Come here, sweetie.”
With a cry, she throws herself at me, sobs raking her tiny little body. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” I lie.
Awkwardly I get up; Blake still has his gun up, warily watching our surroundings.
“Let’s get back to the others,” he says tensely.
The little girl is threatening to choke me, she’s hanging on so tightly, but I don’t mind. It’s actually quite nice to have somebody to hold. I move her weight around just a little. I haven’t forgotten my other predicament, as I free one of my arms. She is so light it’s easy to support her with only one arm, and with my free hand, I swipe a shirt and a sweater from the hangers.
For a moment, I consider how natural it has already become to steal things. Just a few hours ago, I would have balked against the idea of taking a shirt off a rack just because I thought I needed it. But now, in the grand scheme of things, I doubt anybody will make a fuss about the shirt, sweater, or the backpacks Ryan took. It has come down to survival.
I still haven’t digested everything that happened within the span of a few hours. My body and mind just seem to react to whatever is next on the agenda.
The little girl is hiding her head into my chest; silent sobs rake her small body.
“Daddy.” she moans, and my heart breaks for her.
“It’ll be alright,” I whisper into her ear while her fine hairs tickle my nose. She smells of bubblegum and baby shampoo, igniting a new wave of homesickness in me.
We meet back with the others, who have been joined by Ace and Cory. We hug each other awkwardly. I don’t know them very well, but the situation seems to warrant a hug. The kid in my arms doesn’t help make the hug easier, not that I mind, though.
“Who is that?” Jose asks, smiling, pointing at the little girl.
“We found her in that gift shop over there. She was all by herself, hiding.” I tell him.
“Daddy?” the toddler asks from the cover of my chest.
“No baby, I’m sorry. We’ll try to find him, though, okay?”
Ryan hisses, exasperated. “There is no way we-”
Jose interrupts him. “Not now, McCarthy. She’s just trying to help the little girl.”
“What are we waiting for?” Ace asks.
“Drew said he’d meet us here,” Conner explains.
We all fall silent again, looking around nervously and waiting. Nobody says what we are all thinking, how weird it is that after all the fighting, it’s so empty and quiet. The only things stirring are leaves and trash blowing in the wind. Where did all the people go?
I shift the girl in my arms, uncomfortably. She’s not heavy, probably not more than twenty pounds wet, but after a while, the weight becomes awkward and seems to increase.
“Here, let me.” Blake offers and takes her from me. Again, the little girl whimpers, “Daddy.”
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll find him.” Blake soothes, glaring warningly at Ryan to keep his mouth shut.
Just then, a weird noise reaches my ears, something I can’t place, so I perk my head up, shifting around a little to get a better read on where it’s coming from. Noticing the change in my demeanor, Blake looks at me, questioning. He doesn’t say anything, though, instead he too, tenses. The noise appears to be getting c
loser and louder. Blake seems to hear it too. Some of the others cock their heads; they have also noticed it.
My mouth gets dry, and adrenaline surges through me. The noise starts to sound like a stampede. And there is a hissing sound in the air that gets louder by the second.
We are all alert. Blake keeps a tight grip on the little girl with one hand; in his other, he holds the gun. Jose steps forward and takes the toddler from him, pointing meaningfully at the Glock in Blake’s hand, before Blake releases her. Now that he has both hands free, both wrap around the weapon. Slowly, he spins around.
Conner holds his revolver dangling from his hand by his right leg and bounces it nervously against it.
I duplicate Blake; gun raised, finger off the trigger; for now, I spin in slow circles as well. The noise grows louder and louder, and by now, it’s unmistakable; hundreds of feet pound the asphalt—the hissing grates on my nerves as it grows in intensity.
A shadow breaks free from around the corner. It’s Drew. He is almost seven-foot-tall and so lean, he looks like a stick. He’s the kicker for our football team, a star basketball player, and the fastest runner at our school, which is what he is doing now.
When he sees us by the statue, he screams: “Run!”
I don’t hesitate; I pivot into the direction we just came from and run as fast as I can. I don’t wait to see what’s following. My mom warned me many times that curiosity killed the cat, and it never seemed more true than right now.
In no time, Blake passes me and takes the lead. Every once in a while, he glances back to make sure nobody gets left behind.
Within seconds Ryan, Ace, and Collin have passed me as well, and within a minute, I’m the one at the end. They’re all in much better physical shape than me, and for the first time in my life, I regret not having done any kind of sport besides PE at school. The football players, of course, are all in great shape, and I know Blake is as well. He has been training to become a Marine since I met him when he was six. Hence us playing wargames since childhood.
So that leaves me huffing and puffing behind them. The hissing is getting louder and spurs me on. I don’t even know how or why they are making that sound, but it’s so creepy; it allows me to dig into reserves I didn’t even know I possessed and run faster.
We pass deserted stores, where wares lie abandoned and trampled on the ground. Blake makes a sharp right and leads us into a narrow street. My heart pounds hard inside my chest. Ty, a little ahead of me, jumps over something, and I have just enough time to realize that it’s a body, before I too, jump over it. Barely avoiding to trip and fall.
My breath comes out in short, labored bursts. On a positive note, the group chasing us will have to thin out in this narrow street as well, slowing them.
Way ahead of me, Blake pushes a stroller out of the way. Jesus, I think it didn’t seem to take this long when we came this way earlier.
The cobblestones underneath my feet are uneven and threaten more than once to trip me. Sweat runs down my face and gets into my eyes, obscuring my vision. The stinging of the salt isn’t helping matters either.
Blake makes another sharp right turn, through an even narrower alley between two stores. How he knows where to go is beyond me, but I trust him. And seconds later, we are out in the open.
Grass leads up to an array of dense hedges, and everybody slows down. Blake points at the fence behind the bushes and indicates for the others to climb. He takes on a defensive stance, holding up his gun, pointing it towards something behind me.
“Faster, Viv.” he yells as if I didn’t know that already.
I want to give him the finger, but I’m too exhausted, plus I’m still holding the gun. I can sense something close behind me, just as a shot rings out. I don’t turn to look. They must be close.
Ace and Drew make it up the fence; Ty is next. On top, he stops and holds his hands out for Jose to hand him the toddler. As soon as the little girl leaves Jose’s arms, he hauls himself up and over the fence too.
Another shot overrides the sound of the people chasing us, and I’m finally at the fence. I turn to help Blake to hold off whatever is behind us and freeze. I had known that there had to be a lot of them chasing us but knowing and seeing it are two entirely different things. Through the narrow alley we just left, a seemingly never-ending stream of people pours out.
Forced down to only two at a time, their numbers nevertheless increase way too fast. A few are far ahead, like the one that must have been right behind me when Blake risked a shot.
Within seconds, there are hundreds of people, all closing in on us, all snarling that weird hissing sound of theirs. Their faces contort into masks of anger and hate. Arms reach out for us; in imitation of every zombie movie I’ve ever seen.
Most are still about fifty yards away, but a few broke ahead of the group and are closer. Those are the ones Blake keeps firing at.
“Hit their heads,” Conner screams, his face a mask of horror and excitement.
“Don’t be an idiot.” I snarl. “Center mass.” That’s what my mom taught me, and that’s what I’m doing.
Conner’s shot goes wide and hits somebody further down the line in the shoulder, throwing that person to the ground.
“Everybody knows you have to shoot zombies in the head,” Conner shouts as he pulls the trigger again.
“They are NOT zombies,” I yell angrily.
And to prove my point, without thinking any more about it, I aim center mass and pull the trigger. The woman I shot at was only about thirty feet away. She is thrown back by the impact and tumbles to the ground, unmoving. My stomach churns. I just shot somebody.
“Quit wasting ammo and do as she says,” Blake orders.
“Give me the gun and get over.” Drew urges me from the other side of the fence. “I’ll cover you.”
Waiting, he holds his hands up, same as Ace and Jason. Conner takes another shot before relinquishing his weapon to Drew. Within seconds he is over the fence.
“Come on,” they shout at me.
I stare up at the daunting fence. It’s probably eight feet high with barbed wire on top. By now, the hissing is so loud and close that I don’t need any further incentive. I turn the safety lever on the Glock and toss it over the fence. Just the way you are taught not to do with a loaded weapon.
Drew actually tries to catch it, like a football. He realizes his error in judgment and sidesteps it. The Glock lands on the grass before he picks it up with shaking hands and an expression of apprehension on his face.
He fumbles with it, points it through the chain-link fence, but the Glock still has the safety on, and nothing happens. Blake’s entire body shudders in irritation before he fixes the gun for Drew, all the while yelling at me to: ‘Hurry the fuck up.’
Deep down, I realize I’ll make an ass of myself, but I also know that I don’t have a choice. So, I back up a few steps and take a running leap and throw my hands up as far as I can. They reach for purchase in the holes of the wire fence while my feet try to find leverage.
The wire burns my fingers as I hold on for dear life. I realize I need to let go and grab higher, to pull myself up, but I’m frozen. Another shot rings out; I don’t have time to find out who the shooter is or how close the person who got shot was to me, as I’m finally able to move my hand and pull myself up a little higher.
“Go under the barbed wire,” Blake instructs.
“Come on, Viv, hurry it up,” one of the other guys screams at me.
My feet finally find some kind of purchase. My arms burn from holding my weight, and my hands bleed from the wire, but I manage to pull myself up just a little bit more and swing one of my legs over the fence and under the barbed wire.
Another shot is fired, and something pushes against the fence, making it shake; I lose a foothold and scream in panic.
Suddenly Blake is close to me. Unchivalrous, he grabs hold of my ass and pulls me over. I lose my balance completely, and we both fall to the ground. The wind is knocked out of me
, but before I have time to think about it or recover, Ryan grabs my hand and pulls me up.
“Let’s go.”
Trying to catch my breath, I stumble foot over foot behind Ryan as he pulls me forward, away from the fence, shuddering under the impact of the hundreds of bodies who have reached it.
I cough and finally manage to get some air back into my lungs. Keeping hold of Ryan’s hand, like a life preserver, I let him pull me down an embankment towards the paved parking lot.
“Which bus is ours?” Drew asks.
“Does it matter now?” Conner quips.
“Find one that has keys. Let’s split up. If you find one, honk.” Blake orders.
And just like that, we all take off in different directions; Ryan is still holding onto my hand.
“Are you okay?” He gasps. At least he is breathing harder too, I think, somewhat happy to see I’m not the only one huffing and puffing as uncalled for as that thought is. But there it is.
I nod. I don’t have the energy for words just yet, as I stumble after him towards one of the many buses parked in the lot, waiting for the people they brought here earlier.
To the happiest place on Earth.
People that will never return.
I shudder.
Ryan pushes a button, and the doors to the bus open. He climbs inside while I lean breathlessly against the vehicle. My eyes wander up the embankment we just ran down. The rattling and hissing seem to intensify, and the jangling and snarling make me wonder how much longer the fence will hold under the onslaught of bodies.
“Nothing,” Ryan says, climbing down and pulling me with him towards the next bus, whose doors won’t even open.
Leaving us no choice but to keep going. I feel useless, holding Ryan’s hand and following him like a scared puppy. That’s not me. I’m NOT the damsel in distress. I pull my hand loose.
“It’ll be faster if we split.”
Without waiting for an answer, I run towards the next bus, whose doors are wide open, and climb inside. Quickly I scan the driver’s seat and am just about to pull the visor down when something snarls and throws itself at me.
I scream and lose my balance, falling against the driver’s seat. In front of me is the distorted face of one of them. His eyes are rolled back in his head, saliva runs down his chin, and his hands claw for my throat. He is wearing some kind of uniform, and the white shirt underneath the jacket is stained dark red with dried blood.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 4
