by Radke, K. E.
Still confused Wyatt said, “His dad isn’t even here.”
“Oh, did I mention she thinks Lincoln is his dad?” Noah added falling in a heap on the floor.
“Because of the Alzheimer’s,” Wyatt said slowly more to himself than to Noah.
“And now we’re stuck with her because who in their right mind leaves their mother to fend for themselves. Even though, technically, he was going to before I interfered, but now I understand why. That woman loves Lincoln and knew she’d be the death of him in the event of an apocalypse.”
“How bad is she?”
“The woman stabbed Lincoln in the fucking arm with a nail file. And he didn’t even flinch, apparently she does it a lot.”
“She’s abusive?”
“No. Lincoln is what keeps her alive. Peter on the other hand, she’d accidently push him in a crowd of chompers and watch them rip him apart.”
“Who’s Peter?”
“Lincoln’s dad.”
“And you sent the woman who thinks Lincoln is Peter on an errand together!” Wyatt pointed out anxiously.
Noah turned his head and their eyes locked as he sarcastically said, “You’re right. I should have left her here with you and then maybe she would have lost her mind and disappeared without a trace. Because the man that visits his mother and doesn’t even get to talk to her,” Noah emphasized the last words before he added, “that’s right, his ass drives down here just to watch his mother to make sure she’s physically all right—can’t even talk to the woman because she tries to kill him—if anything happens to her, trust me we’re screwed. It’s better she’s with him so he can keep an eye on her. Whether he makes it out alive . . .”
Wyatt laid his head back against the bed defeated. If Noah wasn’t exaggerating and Lincoln survived, they had a new liability to deal with. One, Lincoln would not leave behind. No matter how dangerous she was.
SEVEN
“M —Gloria,” Lincoln corrected himself in a low voice trying to catch up to her before she entered the large living area. The heavy pack weighed on his shoulders, but he refused to give them a break. Fear of being trapped without supplies made the pain worthwhile.
He called out louder than he intended and kept his tone harsh, “You don’t even know where you’re going.”
Stopping in her tracks she said thoughtfully, “Oh, right.” She waited for him to take the lead and fell in beside him. “It’d be nice to have my knife back.”
Lincoln had left it at the nurse’s station. “If I give you one, are you going to stab me in the back with it?”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. I guess if I get one, you’ll just have to wait and find out.”
Against his better judgement, he pulled one of the knives from his belt and held it out to her. “If I die, Noah and Wyatt will leave you here to rot with the rest of these people. So behave.” Around the next corner, he peered into the giant room to make sure it was empty. “We left the pack in the lobby. The automatic doors still work, and we left a hoard of flesh eaters behind them. Do not go past the desk or you’ll trigger the sliding doors. I’ll get the pack, and then we’ll head back to Noah and Wyatt.”
Weaving through the dead bodies and furniture, they made it through the quiet building without any rotting squatters interference. Down the short hallway, Lincoln treaded lightly until he came face to face with the pack hidden behind the lobby desk.
Behind the automatic doors, he surveyed the crowd of cannibals distracted by outside noises. The chompers were no longer smashed up against the glass but a large amount of them were still dispersed out front. Several were facing the empty lobby, almost like they could sense fresh meat.
“Stay here. If those doors open, run. Don’t wait for me,” Lincoln whispered softly.
“It almost sounds like you care,” Gloria scoffed.
Lincoln kept his mouth shut and reminded himself that she saw Peter every time she looked at him. The memories blurred in her mind years ago, and she hadn’t recognized her grown son since. Every attempt he made was futile. He’d come to terms that his mother was lost to a disease that took her hostage and warped her brain against him, which is why she made him promise he wouldn’t come for her.
She wanted him to survive. And didn’t want him to risk his life to save a sick woman who would only be a burden.
A few deep breaths seemed louder than ever as Lincoln carefully stepped out into the open lobby. His sudden appearance sent the rotting stalkers into a frenzy. Near the back wall, he swiftly closed the gap between him and the pack they abandoned.
Grunts and bodies thundered against the glass, and filled the empty lobby echoing off the walls. Straight ahead, he eyed something on the floor beyond the desk. He checked the glass sliding doors one more time to make sure they’d hold and crouched out of view. Fingers reached for the notebook and slid it across the floor.
After skimming a few entries, he grinned at the useful information Phoebe gathered about the disease in her notebook. He secured it in a side pocket of Phoebe’s pack, ready to venture back to the little hall where he safely left his mother.
The sound of cracking glass echoed through the room and he jerked his head up peering over the desk. Every bit of glass was covered with bloody skin, smashed faces, and tongues licking the surface. Open, rotten mouths tried to eat through the glass in order to sink their teeth into Lincoln.
Ready to cross back he turned his head and almost sliced his cheek open on the knife pointing at him. Above him, Gloria stood poised with pure hatred and determination. In a flash the knife was at his neck while she pried Phoebe’s heavy pack from his grasp.
“Where’s Lincoln? Tell me where to find him and I’ll leave you alive,” she said coldly and tightened her grip on the knife.
Loud croaks and groans echoed inside the building. For a second Gloria’s eyes shifted behind Lincoln and all the color drained from her face. He followed her line of sight and saw shadows in the hallway on the other side.
“You have a knife and we’re about to be surrounded. Kill me and you will die. You need me—whether you like it or not,” Lincoln answered staring straight into her eyes. Cracking glass and warped grunts competed for his attention, but he kept his gaze trained on his mother.
Enraged at his words and the obvious truth behind them, she dug the point of the knife into his neck and whispered vehemently, “I killed you. Literally watched you die. But here you are, right in front of me.” Tears brimmed her eyes, on the verge of spilling over.
Lincoln gulped, terrified the disease that stole his mother would finally kill him too. Another loud crack ripped through the lobby, but Lincoln didn’t budge fearing the knife would slide across his neck.
“Shit,” Gloria said with her gaze bouncing between the sliding doors and the opposite corridor.
Lincoln’s hands itched toward the AK. His hands wrapped around it and Gloria’s hand with the knife trembled until it finally landed at her side again. She stared at him in a daze, lost in memories from a different time.
The cannibals in the opposite corridor joined them and triggered the automatic sliding doors. Snapping jaws, groans, and shuffling feet roared through the lobby. They clawed and fought over one another to be first.
Lincoln growled with adrenaline and threw Phoebe’s pack toward the hallway they came from. He shoved his mother in the same direction and started shooting. Trekking backward he kept the hoard in front of him as they reversed into the small hall.
Relief flooded over Lincoln when he heard his mother yell the word, “Clear!”
“Run!” Lincoln grounded his feet and shot the first layer of intruders ready to die so his mother could survive.
“Come on dumb ass!” She pulled hard on his collar dragging him backward. “You die, Lincoln dies! I will not bury my son.”
They both pulled Phoebe’s pack between them and ran down the small space to put as much distance between them and the decomposing bodies in pursuit. Lincoln’s hand freed th
e Glock 17 from its holster and barged into the large living area without a second thought. He didn’t have time to be careful. They either kept moving or died.
The ghouls outside in the garden were roused by all the noise. Teeth and nails clacked against the glass, their eyes followed Lincoln and Gloria looping around obstacles in their path, the pack still being pulled between them.
Lincoln steered clear of a few hungry mopers around the large living area, not risking a glance back because the loud sounds behind him proved they’d gotten through the door to the hallway before it closed.
Around the bend, they entered the main hallway to the little apartments and Lincoln yelled for Noah. Noah’s head popped out of the hideout before Lincoln reached him.
“Get Wyatt!” Lincoln’s voice boomed down the corridor. Noah disappeared, and Wyatt crawled out the doorway staring in the direction Lincoln just came from as he skidded to a stop. Gloria panted leaning on her knees when Lincoln shoved the pack at her, “Put it on. The exit is at the end of the hall after you turn the corner. I’m right behind you. Take out your knife.” She nodded and allowed him to help strap the pack to her. She hesitated before taking off, and then moved forward refusing to look back.
Wyatt’s face paled before he started to crawl down the corridor as fast as he could after Gloria. Croaks and groans rumbled down the hallway and Lincoln finally peered back. Hungry hands pushed at one another eager to reach him.
As soon as Noah reached the open doorway with Wyatt’s pack, Lincoln shoved a folded wheelchair in his hands. They placed the pack between them and dragged it together while hauling the wheelchairs in their other hands. Noah slowed a little as they came up on Wyatt, “Keep moving!” Lincoln yelled passing the man struggling to crawl over the dead bodies and rubble on the floor.
“Don’t leave me!” Wyatt screamed, the dread in his voice concealed by cacophony of noise emitted by the growing crowd behind him.
Lincoln reached the end of the hall, flung the wheelchair toward the exit, and turned around. Noah kept moving toward the exit to get both wheelchairs and Wyatt’s pack as close as possible before he slammed into the door only to bounce off it.
“It’s locked genius,” Gloria smirked pointing to the key card mechanism with a bright red light signaling no one can leave.
The mob of rotting flesh swarmed every inch of the corridor hurdling over each other to reach the living flesh crawling on the floor—like rats evacuating a flood. The putrid smell intensified with all the bodies huddled in one area. Jaws snapped, and the slower ghouls were trampled by the hungrier ones behind them.
The AK molded to Lincoln’s hands automatically and he fired at the rotten bags of flesh yelling as loud as he could, “Move your ass Wyatt!” Each time he said it, he took a step forward until he reached Wyatt and pulled him off the floor.
Breathing heavily, they hobbled down the corridor and heard Noah continuously holler, “I need that key card!”
Numbly tracing his pockets with his fingers, Lincoln found the key card and had it ready when they turned the last corner before freedom. Noah came into view with his hands wide open and Lincoln threw the key card at him. Suddenly they were plunged into darkness. Wyatt and Lincoln cursed simultaneously.
“What are the fucking odds. The back-up generator just died,” Noah stated the obvious.
“Then it’s not locked,” Gloria grunted as she pushed the door open and sunlight flooded through the opening. Noah hurled both wheelchairs out the door while Gloria dragged Wyatt’s pack out with her. Safely outside, he wrapped his hands around the 1911 with ease and aimed it at whatever foes might be hidden in the darkness behind Lincoln and Wyatt. Ready to kill anything chasing them.
Lincoln dragged Wyatt the last few steps and they both collapsed outside on the pavement. Falling to their knees, the door slammed shut behind them. All four of them squinted at each other breathing heavily like they’d just ran a marathon. Everyone started at the muffled pounding on the other side of the door. No one could rip their eyes away from the doorknob for the next few minutes.
Noah stayed vigilant and made sure the alley they ended up in was clear. They fixed themselves behind the overloaded dumpsters, so they weren’t easily visible if anyone passed by.
Catching his breath, Lincoln announced the plan, “Let’s get to the hospital so we can try and fix Wyatt’s foot. Along the way we’ll search for an electronics store. If we’re lucky we won’t have to go any further than the hospital.”
“What about Lincoln?” Gloria brought up. “Shouldn’t we get him first?”
“He’s safe outside the city. He knows better than to risk your wrath,” Lincoln explained and actually watched her nod with pride. She’d never want him to put himself in danger to save her life.
“We should just find an electronics store and then head home,” Wyatt muttered bitterly. “If you can’t fix my foot I’m stuck like this. Anyone helpful at the hospital will shove it in their mouth and call it a day.”
“That’s just nasty,” Noah murmured under his breath making a sour face.
“Then I should have left your ass to die in there,” Lincoln pointed at the door they just exited. “I’m not in the mood for a pity party Wyatt. We both know you need that fucking foot to walk on.”
Everyone sat silently, and mentally got ready for the long road ahead of them.
Lincoln spoke first, ready to move again and get the journey over with, “Everyone remember the plan if we get separated?”
Simultaneously Gloria said, “What plan?” While Wyatt gestured to his broken foot and sarcastically said, “Yes because I’ll be able to walk that far with this.”
Before Lincoln opened his mouth, Noah placed a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, “I won’t leave your side. You shoot, I’ll push.”
Noah popped a wheelchair open and helped Wyatt get situated with his pack resting on his lap. Lincoln unfolded the other wheelchair and stared at Gloria point blank gesturing to it.
“Gloria the plan is you either stay with me or get lost in the city and never see Lincoln again. It’s your choice. You stab anyone I’ll make sure we leave you behind. If you don’t cooperate you’re gone. Do you understand?” Lincoln’s voice was harsh with unwavering authority. He tried to sound nasty, like he didn’t care about the woman.
She waved her hand in the air signaling she caught every word and grumbled under her breath. Without arguing she plopped into the wheelchair and placed her pack on her lap. Pointing to the pack while Noah took the lead down the alley Gloria inquired, “Who’d you lose?”
“It’s better not to talk about it,” Lincoln grunted uncomfortably.
The alley opened up to a sidewalk along the main road and Lincoln rolled Gloria right next to Noah and Wyatt so everyone could hear him, “Let’s keep a lookout for a car if the streets clear up. Otherwise we’ll be walking for the next few hours—longer if the streets aren’t handicap friendly. Trust no one, especially damsels in distress. When forced to survive, people are just as dangerous as the flesh eaters. Remember that.”
“Just kill anything that moves,” Gloria surmised in a serious tone.
Further up the street the group caught the attention of a few moping bodies in the vicinity. Nothing close enough to be considered a threat. Instead of shooting them and using precious ammo, they moved ahead at a faster pace and hid. Letting the ghouls pass or get distracted by something else.
Inside a burned-out sandwich shop, Noah kept an eye on their devoted followers when gunshots echoed in the distance. The four ghouls circled around before one of them finally chose a direction and they all disappeared down a side street. No one said a word, but everyone’s grip tightened over their weapon.
For over an hour they didn’t come across anyone alive. Not a huge surprise since the area had nothing left to salvage. Every building they passed had their windows blown out, open to the vermin that hastily took over the burned remnants of shelves, chairs and booths.
This part of Dallas was ob
viously abandoned—or appeared deserted. If anyone stuck around they weren’t sending out a welcoming committee. The entire area was a leftover husk of a fallen city. The high-rises seemed untouched after the first couple of floors, like people were too indolent to continue ransacking the rest of the building. But he had no doubt they were being watched from above.
Trash, glass and debris littered the sidewalks like the city had one big party and no one wanted to clean up the aftermath. Lincoln and Noah navigated around it using the vehicle-congested streets to their advantage. Ducking behind the abandoned cars to stay hidden from lurking predators.
Lincoln didn’t know how much time had passed when both him and Noah stopped simultaneously. About ten blocks up the road was a manmade perimeter of cars and beyond it people—whether the newfound society had flesh eaters or actual people roaming around was the question everyone wanted answered. Noah nodded his head to the nearest alley and took refuge in the shade.
“Eat and hydrate, I don’t know what’s ahead of us. It’s quiet now, so let’s take advantage of it,” Lincoln said calmly to keep everyone at ease. Wyatt’s lip quivered as Gloria scoured Phoebe’s pack for rations. Lincoln turned away from both of them and pulled out a water bottle, rationing his intake before sifting through the bag for his binoculars.
Noah was already spying near the opening of the alley. Lincoln sidled next to him and peered at the little society in the city wasteland.
“Concerns?” Lincoln asked.
Noah snorted, “That’s a stupid question.” After a short pause he continued, “Defiantly alive, defiantly carrying—weapons, not human heads on a platter. All good signs.”
Whistling lowly, Lincoln pointed out, “Threat at nine o’clock.”
The chomper shuffled against each car trying to tear through the first line of defense. Someone shot it, and the body collapsed over the hood of a car with a loud thump. No one seemed perturbed by the death or gunshot—instead everyone’s interest fell upon the ghoul—to make sure it was truly dead this time around.