When the Future Ended (The Zombie Terror War Series Book 1)

by David Spell

  McCain was overwhelmed with love for this woman. She was leaving everything she knew to follow him. The path that she’d chosen was dangerous but Beth had not hesitated. Originally, he wasn’t planning on taking her with him when he left the Northeast Georgia Technical College. The world as they knew it was just too dangerous, and he’d believed the secluded school would be a secure spot for the young woman.

  The night before Chuck was scheduled to leave, however, thirteen heavily armed gang members infiltrated the campus, planning to kill McCain and kidnap Elizabeth in retaliation for the deaths of four of their friends at Chuck’s hand, when he’d rescued Beth from those violent attackers. McCain had also cleaned out their safe house, taking a large amount of food and weapons that the criminals had stored there.

  During the ensuing gunfight at the technical college, all thirteen of the intruders were killed by Chuck, Beth, and the campus security team. Sadly, three students were also killed, and five people wounded, including McCain. He had sustained a nasty wound when a .44 magnum bullet dug a deep trench down his left hip, requiring almost thirty stitches to close.

  After the campus shootout, Chuck had changed his mind, asking Elizabeth if she wanted to accompany him when he left. With the attack on the college, the couple realized that no place was truly safe. McCain had already begun training the young woman, developing her tactics and weapons skills. In the two weeks before they started their journey, however, Chuck spent three hours a day helping Beth become proficient with her weapons.

  They both enjoyed the brief respite, sitting on the back of the truck. He put his arm around her and held her tight.

  “I’m looking forward to playing house with you, too,” he said, softly. “But if you don’t like it, or the neighborhood, no problem, we’ll sell it and buy another one. I want you to be happy.”

  Chuck sensed there was more that Beth wanted to ask him but instead of talking anymore, their lips met and they sat in a comfortable silence until McCain said, “Let’s get going?”

  The drive through rural South Carolina was beautiful and they both had to work to stay focused on the fact that around any curve they could encounter danger. Four miles up the road, Elizabeth turned left onto the highway that would take them through Pendleton, where the large group of zombies had been reported. Chuck had checked the map for other routes but their options were limited.

  As they continued north, they began to see clear evidence that the bio-terror virus had visited the area. Businesses with shattered windows, abandoned cars, their doors standing open, and the gruesome remains of what had once been people lying on the side of the road, in parking lots, or hanging out of vehicles attested to the presence of the undead.

  “This doesn’t look good,” McCain commented, as he watched for threats.

  Two, decomposing, nude zombies, a male and a female, rounded the corner of a gas station, drawn to the sound of the Toyota pickup driving by. The female Z was missing her left arm below the elbow. They shuffled towards the roadway as Beth passed them.

  “I’ll never get used to seeing that,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to. Half a mile up, we’re going to turn right onto Highway 28,” Chuck directed.

  As they approached their turnoff, though, they could see a large group of infected in the parking lot of a small strip mall on their left, clustered around one business. McCain estimated at least fifty growling, snarling creatures were attempting to get into the Bombay Jewelers, according to the sign. The noise of the group carried to the couple as Beth slowed for their turn.

  They were close enough now that they could see that the jewelry store had bars on the windows and door, but all the glass had been smashed out by the infected. At least twenty of them were reaching their arms through the bars trying to grab something. Or someone. The pickup truck came to a stop in the intersection.

  “What are you doing?” Chuck asked, concern in his voice.

  “There’s someone in that store,” Beth said. “Why else would those things be crowded around, reaching inside?”

  “You’re probably right. Let’s go while they’re are occupied.”

  “Chuck, we have to help them.”

  “No, we don’t. Let’s get out of here. We can’t help everybody and that’s a big group of zombies.”

  The Tundra continued to sit motionless in the middle of the road. The drama at the Bombay Jewelers was just two hundred yards away. McCain made eye contact with his wife as she looked at him in the rear view mirror. He saw a determination that he hadn’t seen before in the short time that he’d known her.

  “We have to help them,” she repeated.

  A few of the infected in the back of the crowd had seen the pickup truck come to a stop and were already shuffling towards them.

  “Elizabeth, please, we need to go. We really can’t help everybody and there’s just two of us.”

  “I know we can’t help everybody, but if there’s someone trapped in that store, we can help them. You know the Bible better than me but I think I read something to the effect of, ‘Do unto others what you would want them to do unto you.’ Did I quote that right?”

  “Oh, yeah. You quoted it perfectly,” he admitted, resignation in his voice.

  Chuck quickly looked at the map pages in his lap, a plan starting to form. That’s really not fair quoting the Bible, he thought. Not fair at all.

  “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Two minutes later, after explaining the plan to his wife, Chuck exited the vehicle and assumed a kneeling position from which to pick off the infected. He raised the Colt M4 and began firing. After his first shot, Elizabeth began honking the horn, holding it down to get the attention of the Zs.

  McCain shot thirteen of the infected but he couldn’t take out the ones clustered around the windows. He didn’t want to take a chance on hitting whoever was inside. The car horn and the gunshots did the trick, though. The rest of the horde, with the exception of five who were convinced that they were going to get to their victim inside the jewelry store, were now stumbling and lurching across the parking lot towards the Tundra.

  Chuck was thrilled that these Zs had all been infected for a while, so that they weren’t dealing with any of the sprinting zombies that he had encountered at other times. The federal police officer continued making head shots, dropping more of the creatures coming after them. Another eight had fallen by the time McCain stood, reloaded, and getting back into the safety of the vehicle.

  “Drive towards that Firehouse Subs right up there on the left. I’m getting hungry again.”

  Elizabeth looked at her husband in the rear view mirror with disbelief. “You’re hungry?”

  “Bad joke,” he laughed. “Stop in the middle of the road next to the sandwich shop and let me pick off a few more. I need you watching to make sure no others surprise us. We’re making a lot of noise and zombies are going to come running, or even better, shuffling from every direction.”

  This was a slow moving group of Zs that were now pursuing and Chuck put bullets in the heads of eleven more. The others, oblivious to their companions’ demise, continued towards fresh meat, growling and snapping their teeth together. McCain jumped back into the Tundra, swapping out the partial magazine of ammo for a full one, and slamming it into his M4.

  “Turn into the sub shop and drive around behind it. Take a left on that road in the rear. It’ll take us right back to the shopping center.”

  “Got it,” Beth said, shoving the accelerator to the floor.

  Three teenage zombies, drawn to the sound of the shots, stumbled out from the rear of the Firehouse Subs, directly into their path. Elizabeth never hesitated, slamming the heavy metal bumper into two of them, sending them flying head over heels across the parking lot. She knew that time was of the essence and the pickup skidded, tires squealing, as she made the left turn, driving them back towards the Bombay Jewelers.

  “We’ll be coming in from the other en
d of the shopping center,” Chuck said. “Stop one store up from the jewelry store and let me take care of the ones that are still there. Then, we’ll make contact with whoever’s inside.”

  As the truck came to a halt in front of a nail salon, the five zombies at the jewelers finally withdrew their arms from the smashed out windows, turning towards Beth and Chuck. McCain was out quickly and shooting, exploding their heads from less than twenty-five yards away. The five infected bodies made a bloody mess on the sidewalk and their stench was almost overwhelming. He did a rapid three hundred and sixty degree scan, making sure that they were safe for the moment.

  “Pull up right in front and let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Chuck used the sidewalk to approach the Bombay Jewelers, moving cautiously, not wanting to get shot by a survivor. When he peeked inside, however, he didn’t see anyone. The jewelry cases were still full of jewelry, he noted with surprise. He motioned for Beth to join him. She’s really cute, all decked out with web gear and guns, he thought, glancing at her getting out of the pickup.

  Suddenly, a loud banging sound came from a metal interior door on the back wall of the store, startling McCain. He swung his rifle up in the direction of the noise. The door probably leads to storage or an office, he thought.

  A low moan came from just inside the store. He moved further down the walkway, hoping to get a better view inside, and there she was. A small, preadolescent Indian girl was lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, next to one of the display counters. She groaned again, causing the banging from the rear to intensify.

  “Hello? Are you OK? I’m a police officer and we want to help you.”

  Growling now accompanied the banging on the other side of the metal door. The girl on the floor made an effort to raise her head, trying to see who was speaking to her.

  “Please, help me,” the Indian girl whispered.

  “We’re going to try,” McCain answered. “Have you been bitten?”

  She managed to shake her head. “No, but I’m so weak. I don’t think I can get up. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink in so long.”

  “We’ll get you out of there,” he promised.

  “What do you think?” Elizabeth asked.

  Chuck shrugged. “Let’s figure out a way to get in. These bars look pretty formidable.”

  “Why don’t we try the rear?”

  He shook his head. “We can hear the Zs in that back room, but there’s no telling how many there are. I’d hate to force the rear door and get overrun. Let me check the truck and see if there’s a crowbar or something. I’ll be right back.”

  “Hang on,” Elizabeth told the girl. “We’ve got to try and figure out a way to get in.”

  “I…have…the...keys...here,” she said, weakly, holding up a set of keys.

  Beth made eye contact with her. “I know it’s hard but I need you to get up and bring me those keys. There’s glass all over the floor but we want to get you out of there. What’s your name?”

  The girl on the floor took a deep breath. “Diya,” she answered. “Diya Meena.”

  “I’m Elizabeth and the man you saw is my husband, Chuck.”

  McCain returned to Beth’s side, holding a crowbar.

  “She’s got the keys,” Beth said. “I’m trying to get her to bring them over.”

  Chuck nodded and looked back across the parking lot. The group from earlier was coming back, but it had grown, other Zs having been drawn to the noise. They were still three hundred yards away but there looked to be at least forty of them.

  “Look,” he motioned at the zombies, and then went to work trying to pry the door open.

  Elizabeth turned and gave a slight gasp when she saw the Zs that were heading straight towards them. “Diya, there’s a lot of zombies coming. We don’t have much time.”

  The small girl pulled herself up to a sitting position, leaning back against one of the display cases. She appeared to be no older than twelve, maybe even younger. Her face was pale and drawn, her clothes hanging loosely from her tiny frame.

  The burglar bars were designed to keep people from doing exactly what Chuck was trying to accomplish and he wasn’t making any progress with the pry bar. The pounding on the door inside the jewelry store continued unabated, sounding as if multiple infected were trying to break through. I sure hope that door holds, he thought.

  The girl summoned all of her strength and used the jewelry counter to pull herself to her feet. She leaned against the display, clearly unsteady as she tried to stand. Her eyes were focused on Elizabeth but Diya could now also see the parking lot beyond her new friends and the growling mob of flesh-eaters coming their way. Behind the door to her rear was more agitated grunting, snarling, and banging.

  McCain watched the young girl walking slowly towards them. She was wearing jeans, a University of South Carolina hoodie, and pink Nikes. She had told them she hadn’t eaten in a while and she looked like a skeleton. Chuck glanced behind him, checking the progress of the approaching Zs. A few of the faster-moving ones were inside two hundred yards now.

  Meena stumbled as she got to them, reaching through the glassless door, grabbing the bars for balance. She extended the keys through the opening. McCain grabbed them but quickly saw that there were at least twenty keys on the ring.

  He held them up and said, sharply, “Which one?”

  The girls eyes were closed and she looked like she was about to pass out. Beth reached through the burglar bars and wrapped her hands around Diya’s arms, helping hold her up.

  Chuck began frantically working through the keys, one-by-one, trying them all. The eighth one was the charm and he carefully pulled the bars open. He and Beth grabbed the young girl and helped her outside.

  The big man looked at his wife. “She can’t stand up on her own. After we put her in the truck, can you check her for bites? We can’t take any chances.”

  Beth nodded and they helped Meena into the front passenger seat of the Tundra. Elizabeth quickly pulled up the little girl’s hoodie and a red long-sleeve t-shirt, checking her front and back, as well as her arms and legs, as McCain kept watch. The pack of Zs were only a hundred yards away.

  “She’s fine,” Elizabeth told Chuck. “Just dehydrated and weak from not eating.”

  “Give her a few small sips of water and then let’s move,” Chuck instructed his wife.

  As the precious water got inside of her, the girls eyes fluttered open. Beth held a plastic bottle to her mouth, speaking softly, “Just a little at a time. You’re going to be fine. You’re safe now.”

  “Let’s go,” McCain urged. “Give her another sip, strap her in and let’s roll.”

  Diya locked eyes with Chuck. “Please, my family. They’re the ones in the back room. They’re sick.”

  The girl’s gaze drifted to the rifle McCain was wearing. “Can you…I don’t want them to make anyone else sick.”

  The snarling and teeth snapping open and shut carried across the sixty yards that separated them from the zombies in the parking lot. Chuck knew they were going to be cutting this close.

  Beth saw the Zs getting ever closer, and now that they had rescued the little girl, she was ready to make their getaway. “Come on, we need to go.”

  McCain nodded but kept looking at Diya, understanding what she was asking him to do. “So, it’s just your parents in that back room?”

  “And my little brother and my uncle. My uncle was sick and he bit my dad and mom.”

  The police officer saw the fear on his wife’s face. “Beth, get in and drive to the other side of the parking lot, honking the horn. Get that group to follow you. I’ll take care of this and then you can come back and pick me up. Give me five minutes.”

  Elizabeth hesitated for a moment but then nodded, took a deep breath, and rushed around to the driver’s door. In seconds, Chuck was hurrying back into the jewelry store as the Toyota Tundra was racing to the far end of the large parking area, horn blaring.

  Inside the Bombay Je
welers, Chuck pushed the front door closed and plotted his best course of action. He decided to use his pistol since he needed one hand free to open the metal door. He pulled the suppressor from his belt and screwed it onto the threaded barrel of the Glock.

  The banging had stopped and he quietly stepped over to the door, gently turning the knob, pulling the metal door towards him a few inches. He slowly backed away from the opening, raising the gun to eye level, circling around one of the jewelry counters, putting a barrier between him and the door.

  “Here I am!” he called. “Come and eat me!”

  Immediately, the office door flew open and the zombie version of Diya’s dad rushed out, bloody and smelly, only to receive a 9mm bullet in the forehead. A female Z wearing a bright orange sari, covered in blood, tripped over the body of the man who had been her husband. As she attempted to get to her feet, Chuck shot her in the top of the head. Another bloody Indian, open wounds visible on both arms, rushed towards McCain growling and snapping his teeth together. The pistol round caught him in the nose and spun him around, his body landing on top of his brother and sister-in-law.

  Chuck waited for the boy to come out but there was no more noise from the open door. McCain cautiously crept over to the opening and did a quick peek into the back room. The bloody remains of the child, Diya’s brother, were scattered around the small storage room. After becoming infected, his parents and uncle had ripped him apart and eaten him. The stench of death was overwhelming.

  Covering his nose, Chuck did an about face and quickly moved back into the store, avoiding Diya’s unfortunate relatives. McCain glanced out the store window, noting with satisfaction that the parking lot zombies were shuffling after the armored pickup truck that was stopped, horn blaring, on the far side of shopping center. As Chuck scanned the inside of the store for anything useful, an idea suddenly came to him. He went behind the closest jewelry counter, opening drawers until he found what he was looking for.