Exodus: Soulless Wanderers Book 3 (A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller)

by Drew Strickland

  Dan stood with his large hunting knife gripped in his hand. His heart continued to beat hard in his chest. They came out from between the trees. Snarls, groans, their lips smacking at the hope that teeth would meet flesh. That wasn't going to happen, just like Daniel wasn't going to get what he wanted. Killing the soulless was the closest thing he would get anytime soon. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was the only thing Dan knew to keep the cravings at bay. It was better than giving in to the temptation.

  The first soulless came lurching his way. Dan exhaled, his breath creating a light cloud of fog. The cold bit him slightly as he raised his arm. He brought the knife down into the skull of the dead man in front of him, letting the body drop. There was no time to be creative with them, there were too many.

  He looked at the woman in a shredded summer dress. They were obviously from the original event, otherwise they'd be dressed a little more weather appropriate. Her lips came smacking his way, but he swung his blade upward, beneath her chin. The blade pierced her brain. The weight of the body crashed down, pulling the knife from his grip.

  "Shit," Dan said, looking up at the two soulless bounding his way. He quickly kicked the woman's body over and went for the handle of his blade. He wasn't quick enough. The first of the two soulless clutched at his coat. Dan grabbed at the bearded face trying to bite into him. Bits of twigs, blood and flesh still clung to its beard. It made Dan think of the shameless full-timers at the all-you-can-eat buffet having no clue to their appearance as they left. He pulled the blade from out of the jaw of the woman and swung. Before the blade could hit its intended target, his arm stopped. Dan quickly looked at his right hand and saw the second soulless had it in its grip. The mouth of the man in athletic jogging gear was wide open. Its mouth wasn't chomping but, instead, was wanting. Beneath its cloudy eye was a huge gouge. Possibly from a tree or other debris it ran into, or possibly from someone trying to save themselves but failing miserably. It was deep, but not deep enough to penetrate the brain. Dan had to think fast.

  He was pulled by the jogger, and pushed from his left by the bearded slob. He pushed and pulled, but it was no use. There was only one other way to go. He pushed back to his right, bringing his hand closer to the jogger’s mouth. The bearded man slipped as Dan's weight no longer held it up.

  Dan let go with his left and pushed the jogger, causing it to fall. The jogger never let go of Dan's hand. Instead, he pulled Dan to the dirt floor with him. The three bodies struggled for dominance, kicking up a cloud of dirt. Dan matched his two hands and handed off the knife between them. With his left hand holding the blade, he quickly brought it down to the jogger's temple. Lights out immediately.

  The bearded slob pulled at his legs, not giving Dan any break. He quickly spun around and swung his left at the man's face, but the hit wasn't accurate. Instead, the knife pierced the soulless in the cheek, creating a large hole in its mouth. Dan pulled the blade forward, ripping the monster's face open. He kicked his leg out, pushing the monster back. He switched hands with the blade, and just before the monster lunged at him again, he brought the knife down into its head.

  Dan inhaled the cold air deeply. He got up from the ground and looked around. There were more soulless out there, but he felt he’d had enough action for the moment. He walked a few feet away from the bodies, their stench not something he wanted to sit in the middle of. He put his back against a large tree and scooted down, sitting on the ground against it. He looked up, trying to catch his breath.

  The sun was shining through the trees in spots, but it was pretty thick with branches where he was at. He still enjoyed the quiet up here, even though it was a different type of quiet now. He wiped his blade against the tree bark and put it back in the sheath on his belt.

  On the ground, something caught his eye. Dan shifted his weight from a sitting position to a crouch. His knees were a little stiff from the cold weather, but he still managed to do it. He turned his body to get a better look. In the dirt beside the tree, there was a small puddle of blood. It was nothing big, maybe the size of a baseball, but it was nowhere near where he had killed the group of soulless. This wasn't from him.

  He surveyed the area, looking for something that could have caused the blood. It wasn't really an uncommon thing these days to see blood on the ground, or on the walls, or even on a person, which was an adjustment for sure, but this was different. This wasn't a smear or splash. This was fairly fresh. It looked a little congealed on the top, like a pot of gravy left on the stove without a lid. But with the cold air and a little bit of time, that was bound to happen. He pulled his knife out of the corpse and poked at the puddle, piercing the top layer. The tip came out red and wet.

  Wiping the blade again against the bark, he rose to his feet. He peered around the tree and found the culprit. On the ground was a hand. He continued to walk around the large trunk. There was a body leaning against a tree. It was angled just right, where Dan wasn't able to see it from where he had been.

  He took a deep breath and crouched again.

  This was different. The person wasn't just dead, he was mutilated. With how fresh the blood was, and how decayed the skin on his face was, Dan had to assume the man was soulless before being gutted. It was ripped open, it's intestines and organs hanging from its stomach. He put his knife at the body and lifted a flap of the opening at the stomach. It was a fairly straight line at the rip. This wasn't done with hands or teeth. It looked like it was done with something sharp.

  Dan looked around and spotted something about five feet from the corpse. It was an animal. It looked like a squirrel. Its tail was bushy, with streaks of white and black in it. He stepped to it and gave it a nudge with his boot. The animal's neck flopped to the side, broken.

  He kicked it over and saw it had been cut open as well. Its guts were hanging from its open stomach, blood covering the ground. Whatever did this wasn't soulless, or another animal. This was done by a person. But who would have done something like this? Why would someone kill animals? Why would they gut the soulless?

  Dan knew the answer to that. It wasn't something he was proud to think about, but he knew it was true. Sometimes people, like himself, did this before they were going to go for the real thing. There was someone nearby, and they had a thirst for blood. Maybe they were going to keep the cravings at bay with the animals and the soulless, but for how long could they keep that up? It reminded Dan of his own cravings and scared him that he didn't have an answer.

  A snarl came from behind him. He quickly turned and swung the knife as he did. The blade went into the temple of a man, his face shredded beyond recognition. The body landed next to the dead squirrel. Dan was too in his head at the moment and had to return to camp before more soulless were able to sneak up on him. He made his way back, thinking of the question in his mind. What was he going to do?

  At least for the time being, he could focus on something else. He had to find whoever was doing this before the person found him and his people.

  3

  Pax

  Pax pulled down the bandana around his face, clearing the large beard he had spent growing over the past five months. Phoenix had never been that bad for pollution, and now it was even better. Having half a year to clear up and only a few vehicles a day on the roads made the air better than he had ever had in any city before. The bandana, however, it was for other reasons.

  The dead that had filled the city had plenty of time to rot in the unforgiving sun, now making the stench in the city unbearable. Whenever he was out on a run, he made sure to take it with him. Most places it was no problem, sometimes only a sour hint in the air, but other times it was worse. Much worse. It could get so bad that Pax and the others had to make sure to always carry Vicks VapoRub for under their noses and hope the smell wouldn't penetrate. Luckily, the hospital had quite the stock.

  He couldn't imagine the need for those in the operating room, and felt sorry for any doctor or nurse who ever had to crack one open. The stench of thousands of pounds of
rotting flesh is something he didn't want to have to get used to.

  Maybe it was a little overkill now that summer was over. The fall and upcoming winter were sure to put everyone at ease. No more bodies baking at 115 degrees. No, in fact, in the winter it could drop below freezing at night. But for now, it was safe to still wear the bandana when going to a new place. Although, those were drying up fast.

  It had been about five months since discovering the hospital and the people inside. Another one month before that since the beginning of the whole shit storm. Between those six or so months, Diego's and Guthrie's group had started scavenging, then Pax and his crew took over, nearly emptying the whole city. Sure, there were places untouched, which was why they were still out, but sooner or later, the city would be barren. But until that happened, they needed to scavenge. They'd been doing it every day, no breaks. They all took rotations, allowing a few men at a time to take a rest for a day, but then it was right back to it. Pax decided to not take a rotation. He caused Diego's death or, at the very least, brought it to his doorstep. They still accepted him, which was uplifting. He wasn't going to let them down. It was a small price to pay to keep everyone safe, fed, and as happy as anyone could be in this apocalypse.

  Pax lifted his sunglasses a bit, shielding his eyes with his hand. The building in front of him was one at the far end of the city. An area they hadn't been yet. It was a movie theater, surrounded by other shops. He didn't expect a ton to be found, but they had to check it out. Maybe there'd be some stale popcorn and some sort of fake liquid butter. God, what he wouldn't give for some fake liquid butter.

  "Pax, you okay?" Mark asked.

  Mark was the only other person from Guthrie's group who had made it to this point. Everyone else had made enough bad decisions to not make it back. Pax was thankful for that. Over the past few months, Mark had become one of his most trusted lieutenants, if he were to name his crew that way. In fact, it was more than that. Mark was Pax's best friend.

  "I'm good," Pax replied, looking at his friend.

  Both of them had lost a lot of weight since the beginning, but not because of hunger. They were both always on the go. Mark had decided to join Pax on the runs almost every time. He could count on one hand the times that he took a rotation. It wasn't expected, or even asked of him to do, but that's how Mark was. He was glad to know him, even if their beginning was a muddled mess.

  "Eduardo says the back alley is clear. The door's locked up, though, so looks like we'll be going in the front."

  Pax nodded and went to the front of the building. The large glass windows at the ticket station were mostly dark. Even though it was the middle of the day in Phoenix, everything seemed dark everywhere they went. He supposed it was just the way things were now. He pulled out a hammer from his belt and knocked on the glass door, ever so gently. There was no sound from inside. He looked at the men behind him and shrugged. "Nobody is home, I guess."

  "Maybe they were closed when it went down," Mark offered.

  Pax raised the hammer, ready to strike the glass. Before he could bring it down, Eduardo chimed in. "Hey, boss-"

  Pax stopped, his mind immediately going to the beginning again. Manny's face flashed in his head, sending shivers down his entire body.

  "Eduardo, please, don't." He knew Eduardo didn't mean anything by it. It was just who he was. But he had asked him numerous times over the past five months not to call him that. He still did it, every day. Pax inhaled and let it out slowly. He supposed he would never stop calling him that. Maybe that was okay. Maybe it was his punishment for past crimes, and if that was the worst of it, then he would gladly answer to it every day. Deep down, Pax knew better.

  "Sorry, b—— Pax. But look." Eduardo was a short man, almost comical. He was barely over five feet tall, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in initiative. Eduardo was always offering solutions to problems Pax hadn't even noticed yet. Here he was again, holding the door open to the movie theater. The doors were unlocked.

  "If they were closed during the event, then why is the door unlocked?" Pax asked out loud.

  He looked over the men's faces. Mark shrugged. Eduardo remained silent. The other two men, Todd, and Paul, looked at each other. Pax didn't know much about them but knew they were well-intentioned and good men. They had been with them less than a month but had carried their weight ever since Pax and his crew found them at the water plant. "There's no soulless, at least what we can see and hear. I think someone lives here."

  "By themselves? At this point in time?" Mark asked.

  "Maybe they have a group. It could be small. Either way, that door didn't unlock itself. Maybe they're gone. We won't know until we check it out. Everyone be on guard." Pax pulled up his pistol and led the way inside. Eduardo held the door for the others and took the back of the group. They all had their pistols raised.

  Inside, the air was stale. There was no stink of death, but there was something else. More than just old food. He walked past the customer service counter that doubled as a ticket station and to the concessions. He flicked a flashlight on and shined the light over the counter. The other men joined with their lights, creating a crossing of many beams of light in the building. When Pax looked at the concessions, his heart sank. There was nothing. There were no Skittles, no Sour Patch Kids, no Whoppers, nothing. He didn't even try the soda machine, knowing there was no electricity. He jumped the counter and looked around. He didn't know where all of it would be, but there was no popcorn, nachos, or any sort of food in sight. The whole place was cleared out.

  "So much for the fake liquid butter," Pax whispered to himself.

  "What's that?" Todd asked.

  "Someone was here. Someone who worked here," Pax said.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Nothing is broken. All the glass displays are intact. They had to have the keys."

  "Maybe they stole them off a dead guy," Paul said.

  "Maybe. Either way, it doesn't matter. The place is empty."

  "Should we pack it up?" Mark asked.

  "Gotta check everything first. Even if it's a waste of time, it might not be a waste of time," Pax answered with a wink. "Clear every building, that's the goal. If you can stomach it, let's split up."

  Mark laughed. "I think I'll be able to handle that. You take Eduardo? I'll take the new guys."

  "I hope we find someone so we aren't known as the new guys for much longer," Todd said.

  Pax smiled. "Good plan. Eduardo and I will go this way." Pax pointed to the right hall, leading to the back half of the movie screens. Mark nodded and took Todd and Paul with him to the left.

  "B- Pax, you think anyone is still here?" Eduardo asked, his light scanning the long hallway.

  "Won't know until we check. But if there is anyone, I don't think they'll be in good shape. The whole concession stand is out of food, so unless it just happened, they'll be pretty hungry by now. Besides, one can only live on candy and nachos for so long."

  "Then you've never met my son. Even in the apocalypse, he refuses to eat healthy."

  Pax chuckled through his nose. Before any more conversation could happen, a screech came from the door to Pax's left. The two men turned to face the door to theater number sixteen. He motioned for Eduardo to grab the door. He kept his gun trained on it, hoping he didn't need to use it. He mouthed One, two, three and nodded.

  Eduardo swung the door open, and Pax barreled forward. Three scared people stood behind the door. Pax continued to point his gun at them. Eduardo shined his flashlight at their faces. Two of them were women. One was middle-aged, at most a decade older than Pax. The other was somewhere around thirty. Their faces were dirty, and they seemed thin without being athletic.

  "Hey, boss, put your gun down." Eduardo stepped between Pax and the people. He bent down and picked up the boy that was with them. The boy shivered in fright, but Eduardo smiled at him. "What's your name?"

  "Brennan," the boy said. His face was dirty, too. Pax looked at him and noticed he co
uldn't have been more than ten years old. Pax stuck his pistol in its holster on his hip.

  "Who are you?" the older of the two women asked. Her voice quivered slightly, but she held her eye contact with Pax.

  "Are you okay?"

  She didn't say anything.

  "We're here to help, as much as we can."

  "What does that mean?" she asked.

  "It means we have a camp nearby. We all live together and make it work."

  "What about those things? The dead ones."

  "The soulless? We have walls. We take them out as we need to. We keep people safe, fed and—"

  "Liars!" The voice came from the right of Pax.

  He spun quickly to see a man, enraged and nearly foaming at the mouth. His hair was unkempt and his clothes torn, covered in blood. He held a machete, pointed directly at Eduardo.

  "Eduardo!" Pax shouted, pushing his friend into the women. Pax grabbed his gun from its holster and raised it, but he was too late. The machete slid into Eduardo's side. Eduardo dropped Brennan and fell to the ground.

  "No!" Pax yelled. He grabbed the man with his left hand and pulled him backwards, causing him to tumble onto the bench against the wall, landing on his back. Pax drew his aim onto his head and pulled the trigger. The man's head exploded brains and blood all over the floor.

  Pax went to Eduardo on the ground. "Boss, fuck this hurts," Eduardo said. Pax looked at the wound and realized it wasn't as bad as he thought. The blade had gone wide, far left of center. "I think I'm okay though, right."

  "Fuck yeah, Eduardo. I think so."

  The women looked down at Pax. "I'm so sorry," the older one said. "He was here and took everything. He bullied and threatened us. We weren't with him, that's not us. I promise you that. I promise. Please."

  Pax stood, gun in his hand. "Anyone else here I need to know about?"

  "It was just him," the younger woman said.