Zombieclypse (Book 4): Dead Start

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Zombieclypse (Book 4): Dead Start Page 12

by Rosaria, A.


  “It’s safer that way.”

  “Not for you.”

  She shook her head. “No, not for me.”

  “I can join you?”

  Sarah let go of Priss and accepted the night vision goggles from Vance. “This will make it safer.” Sarah smirked. “Say thanks to your boyfriend.”

  Priss blushed but didn’t deny Vance being her boyfriend. Crap. Priss stepped back from her to make room for Sarah to leave. “Be safe, and remember, no heroics.”

  “No heroics,” Sarah said, knowing she could not keep the promise this time.

  Having visited the campsite once already made the second going much faster, yet not fast enough to reach it before sundown. She put Vance’s night vision goggles on. Her surroundings transformed in a greenish hue. Trees materialized in front of her where she saw none before.

  She turned around to the tree she had just sprayed an X on. It was illuminated. The douchebag pulled through, who would have imagined that. Not she. If she survived the night, she would owe him big time. She may have to learn to trust the guy. Only a little. If only he wasn’t so slimy. She shuddered at the idea of Priss spending alone time with him. Stop it, she admonished herself. They were in it together. For Priss’s sake, she should grant him at least one chance.

  At the campsite, the men were still busy around the pyres. They were feeding meat slabs to the grill from large trays. The second pyre had died out. People were lounging around the remaining pyre, eating and talking. There were a lot of women. They sat hunched with their bellies, talking with each other in a subdued tone. The men were more animated and drinking beer with gusto. Nancy, another girl, and Spacey occupied the cage. No Becky. And no guards this time.

  Any action would be close in the face, fast, and silent. She stashed her rifle near a tree she marked with the spray. She crept from behind cover onto the grass field. Hunched forward, she raced toward the nearest tent. She perked her ear. Snoring. She crept past the tent toward the cage, keeping a tent between her and the people at the pyre. Every so often she stopped to listen. Every other tent she heard someone snoring. She was way off by her first estimate of how many people were there.

  Sarah reached the biggest tent near the cage, Loudmouth’s tent. She stayed put, listening for a full minute. Did she hear sobbing? She stalked to the front. It seemed everyone who was awake was at the pyre, though no Loudmouth in sight. Sarah ducked into the tent. Becky lay crumpled on top of a dirty, stained mattress in a fetus position. The young woman was weeping. Sarah inspected the interior. No one else was present. Sarah touched the girl, who shied away with a squeal. Sarah tried to shush her. With panicked eyes, Becky fought against her. Sarah slapped her fists away. “Stop, it’s me.”

  The girl bawled, not looking at Sarah. This was pointless. She was beside herself. Sarah let her go.

  “Looks like we got a visitor,” Loudmouth said. “I should thank you for sparing me the trouble of dragging you to my chambers.” He chuckled and grabbed his crotch. “You must want it real bad.”

  Sarah whirled around. The brute towered over her, his hands as big as her head ready to grab her. She stood no chance in a fair fight. Sarah drew her knife.

  Loudmouth pointed at her knife as he closed in. “You like it big, don’t ya?”

  Becky, noticing Loudmouth scrambled up, made a panicked dash for the exit. Loudmouth grabbed Becky by the throat, lifted her up, and threw her to the ground. Becky’s head hit the ground hard. The girl stayed on the ground, moaning. Sarah clenched the knife handle. If Loudmouth grabbed her like that, she was dead.

  “Now, let’s have some fun together.”

  If she pulled her Ruger, she could end this fast, but the gunshot would alert the whole camp and she would lose her chance to rescue Spacey. The people expected noises coming from this tent, so she hoped that hand-to-hand combat would not draw attention.

  Loudmouth kept advancing. Sarah slashed at him. He didn’t back down. He swung a brick-sized fist at her. Sarah ducked under him and away out of his reach. He rushed to tackle her. Sarah jumped sideways. He staggered when he failed to connect. Sarah lunged forward and buried her blade into his back. Loudmouth bellowed in rage, grabbing for the knife. Sarah planted her foot on his ass and yanked the blade free. She staggered back. With wobbling feet, Loudmouth faced her.

  “Bitch, you stabbed me.” His face twisted with incredulity at the blood on his hands. Sarah rushed him and plunged the knife in his chest. The blade broke through bone and found his heart. Loudmouth’s eyes widened, and he slumped to the ground. Men, they saw a pretty girl and underestimated her; had he not, she doubted she would have had it this easy.

  Outside the tent, Sarah heard men call out to each other. The noise must have drawn someone after all. She removed the keychains from Loudmouth’s belt. She hurried to Becky’s side. Shit. She was out. Voices drew closer. Sarah bolted out. She needed Spacey to carry Becky. There were still no guards at the cage. Spacey noticed her. He woke Nancy and the other women while Sarah tried the keys. The first key worked. It filled her both with joy and dread. Luck often came paired with catastrophe.

  Nancy bolted out of the cage toward the tent Becky was in. The other women fled past her out the cage. Sarah didn’t receive a thank you from them, not even a glance, they just ran away from the camp. Sarah followed Nancy. Spacey grabbed her by the wrist and pointed at the group of men with assault rifles closing in fast.

  Sarah tried to yank her arm free, but Spacey’s iron-tight grip around her wrists didn’t budge. He pulled her away. Those men would be at the tent in seconds, and whatever chance Nancy and Becky had would be lost. Sarah drew her Ruger with her free hand and shot at the group. The loud report startled Spacey. His grip loosened and Sarah pulled free. The man she hit clasped his throat and staggered around, blood spurting all over. The other men threw themselves to the ground. Sarah fired once more, missing. One man pointed in her direction. The men crawled back behind cover.

  “Someone death-check Pauly,” the man that pointed at her yelled. A shot rang and Pauly stopped writhing on the ground. Her pursuers left cover charging, guns blazing.

  She didn’t wait to load. If she stood her ground, she would end fighting a losing battle, so she fled. In passing, she grabbed Spacey and led him in the direction she left her P90. She scanned the trees for the X. It glowed bright green on a far-off tree. She dashed for it. Sarah kneeled behind the tree, grabbing her rifle as she went. She inhaled a ragged breath, slowly in and out, trying to calm herself. Her pursuers came in fast.

  Sarah cursed. The five men charging at her all wore similar goggles as she did. At least they were moving away from Becky and Nancy, giving the two girls a chance to escape. Bullets whizzed above and around her as she sought cover. The muzzle flashes blinded her. She pushed her night vision goggles up and shot back at the nearest muzzle flash. A man cried and dropped. She aimed at the next one. Another cry and drop. The shooting stopped. Sarah pulled the goggles down. Three men sought cover behind a fallen tree, while the two wounded remained on the ground writhing in pain. Those behind cover started shooting again.

  Sarah slunk back behind the tree. An alarm sounded at the camp. From Loudmouth’s tent, a woman started screaming. At the same time, the men from the camp roused up and ran toward the gunshots. Soon there would be too many for her and Spacey to deal with.

  Sarah switched to automatic fire and sprayed at the two behind cover while she and Spacey backed away. The gun clicked empty. Not bothering reloading, she grabbed Spacey’s hand and ran. She followed the markings, not slowing down, not wanting her pursuers to catch up. The cries behind grew quieter and cut off not long after leaving, the only sound their feet thumping down on the forest floor and their heavy breathing. They’d escaped. For a second she didn’t think they would. The scream she heard before they fled stuck with her. Not everyone got out. Whatever happened in Loudmouth’s tent, it didn’t sound good. Becky and Nancy most likely didn’t make it out with their lives. Death seemed to follow he
r on her heels, lashing at anyone who got too close. She glanced at Spacey. His eyes were lucid and cold. Or death was following him instead, and she was to become its victim.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sarah stood at the threshold, looking inside the small cabin. Her face flushed red upon seeing Priscilla and Vance naked under a dirty sheet. Priss had the decency to blush when she spotted Sarah. Sarah barged in, pulling her Ruger. Vance sat up, opening his mouth to say something. She rammed the gun into Vance’s mouth and wedged it between his chattering teeth. Vance started gagging.

  Priss tugged at Sarah to let Vance go. Spacey leaned against the wall to Sarah’s side. From her peripheral view, she glimpsed a big grin on the old man’s face, but more disturbing was the hungry stare in his eyes. Sarah focused on her target. Vance’s eyes widened in terror. It felt powerful realizing that one little twitch and the bastard would exit her life forever.

  “I trusted you with her and what do you do the second I leave? You fuck her.”

  “Sarah, no,” Priss said, “we didn’t, we… it’s not what you think.”

  One little squeeze and this whole farce would be over and everything would return to normal.

  “So he didn’t fuck you?”

  The blush on Priss’s face became a shade darker. “Well, yes, but he didn’t force me. I wanted it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Priss pulled at Sarah’s hand. “Let him go.”

  Right then Sarah decided she would pull the trigger. Priss must have read it in her eyes. She punched Sarah on the nose. Sarah recoiled back. The gun popped out of Vance’s mouth. He backed against the wall, eyes bulging in terror. Priss stood between them, fists raised.

  Sarah touched her nose. Not broken, but it hurt, and blood flowed over her shirt. “You hit me.”

  Spacey left the cabin laughing. His barking laughter was still audible from outside.

  “What the heck, Priss?”

  “You tried to kill him.”

  Sarah waved her gun toward Vance. The man flinched. Priss moved to keep her own body between the gun and Vance.

  “Well, of course, he abused you.”

  “It… didn’t… happen… like… that!”

  “What? You mean it didn’t? He’s a douche, of course it happened like that.”

  “I love you, Sarah, but if you keep this up, I will break your nose.” Priss stepped forward, her fists held high.

  Sarah raised her hands in surrender and backed down. “Okay, okay, I’ll listen.” She slid the Ruger in her holster.

  “I was feeling down about you being away and in danger. We talked. He consoled me. I felt… I was a virgin… we would all end up dead soon anyway and I like him. So, I asked him if he wanted to… you know… do it.”

  “Not him, Priss. Not him.”

  “With whom else? Not everyone meets a guy like Ralph.”

  Sarah recoiled at that. A low blow. She wished she ended up with him, but he fell for someone else. They only shared a kiss and nothing else. “You know better than that, I’ve not… you know what happened… you were there.”

  Priss’s eyes widened. She flew to Sarah and embraced her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I… please forgive me.”

  “You know he chose her, and I…” Sarah sighed and pushed Priss away. “Just wear some clothes.”

  Sarah stepped outside and shut the door. She leaned against the wall next to Spacey. He set his lucid, cold eyes on her. It was the real man present, not the one walking in an eternal shocked daze. She didn’t like this version of him. All the darkness within him surfaced when lucid, and when he withdrew, he was more the boy he must have once been.

  “Oh Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” Spacey said. “You should have pulled the trigger.”

  “Oh, shut it, old man. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because it is not my place to do so.” His cold eyes remained on Sarah then faded away. Something was insanely wrong with that man. And the scary thing was, she feared his wrong state was the good thing about him. The man Spacey used to be, and sometimes still was, Sarah wasn’t sure he was on her side. She chuckled. And the funny thing was, she risked her life to save him.

  “I know you can hear me in there, somewhere. You owe me one. A big one.”

  Sheepishly, Priss exited the cabin. “What are we going to do now?”

  The shoddy cabin offered some shelter against the elements, but she doubted it would hold when attacked. If Spacey’s captors found them, it would be a bloodbath; same if a horde stumbled on them. With the night vision goggles, they stood a chance of escaping whoever or whatever followed them.

  “We leave this place.”

  Vance burst out the cabin. “No way. We have to stay.”

  “We do?” Sarah eyed him from top to bottom and back up. “Because you say so?”

  His eyes went to the P90. “We need shelter.”

  Sarah kicked the small cabin. It shuddered in its frame. “We don’t need you shack pad for shelter. Not with people chasing after us.”

  Vance snarled at Priss. “Talk some sense into her. We need to stay the night.”

  Sarah said, “No, we don’t. Thanks to you, we can travel in the dark as if by day.”

  “Priss, say something.”

  Priss didn’t meet Sarah’s eyes. Instead, she kept her gaze to her shoes. “We should stay. They can’t find us in the dark.”

  Something else also could, and she’d rather see it coming than cower huddled together in a small raggedy shack that reeked of sex.

  “Well, from wherever your boyfriend got these goggles, those people went to the same store. We can’t stay. They will find the markings I left on the trees and find this place. And when they do, we are dead.”

  Vance shook his head. “Bullshit, they won’t. I say we stay.”

  For a man who not so long ago trembled with fear, he was now putting up a real brave face. Sarah wondered how much of it was an act. And which of the two was the act, the fear, or the bravery?

  Sarah grabbed Priss and forced her to walk away. “If Vance wants to stay, well, that will be for the best.”

  “Sarah, please…”

  “You got what you wanted from him, don’t allow him to drag you down with him because of one stupid decision.”

  Vance put his arms over each other, expecting for Priss to stay at his side. Priss cast one last longing look at him. “Sorry,” she said, and followed Sarah and Spacey.

  Using the goggles, Sarah carved a way through the forest toward the rocky outcroppings sticking out in the distance. Priscilla moved with considerably less vigor next to her. Sarah heard a branch snap. She let go off Priss and whirled around, raising her P90. Priss nudged her aside and threw herself into Vance’s arms. “I knew you would come.”

  Sarah tsk-tsk and left the couple kissing. Where was an accidental discharge when you needed one?

  After thirty minutes they reached the place she wanted to avoid most of all. The campsite. Sarah stiffened at the sight. The place was silent, half the tents thrashed, the pyres burned out, and all the people gone. She couldn’t believe this large a group cleared out this fast and left during the night. But why leave? It made little sense. She went back to the campsite knowing they wouldn’t expect her to do so. She hoped to avoid the men pursuing her and deal with whoever left. And if chance allowed, to find out what happened to Nancy and Becky.

  “They’re here,” Spacey whispered.

  The place was deserted. “Who?”

  Loudmouth’s large tent rocked. Someone was still inside. Must be Nancy and Becky. Spacey stopped her from checking it out. Shaking his head, he mouthed a no. A large white figure burst out from the tent and went into another smaller one. A wight.

  “We need to get the hell out,” Vance said.

  For once she agreed with him. If Becky and Nancy were still inside the tent, they were dead. And if Loudmouth hadn’t turned and neither had the two girls, then the wight was a newly made one.

  Careful to not make any sound, th
ey retreated into the forest. What kind of bad luck shit kept following her? To run into a wight again. She recognized what kind of luck that was. The luck of stupidity. If only she owned a compass. To not risk circling back, she kept an eye on a tree straight ahead, repeating this as she reached the tree. By doing this she hoped to at least move in a somewhat straight line. Now if only the creature wouldn’t pick up their scent.

  “We should have stayed,” Vance said.

  Sarah’s eyes spewed daggers his way, shutting him up. This wasn’t the place to argue. Voices carried in strange ways through a forest. A human may not pinpoint their location, but a wight might. Vance mumbled unhappy words as Priss clutched on to him while consoling him.

  Sarah sped up her pace, increasing the distance between them. Every so often she checked to see if they still followed. She groaned and stopped. Vance held Priss pressed against a tree, kissing her in a supposedly romantic way. To Sarah, it seemed more like creepy. She didn’t need to endure watching them make out and say sweet nothings to each other. Priss was innocence, while Vance was a crow waiting for slim pickings. A cadaver eater who would poke your eyes out to reach the juicy parts. They would make a game out of it. Making out and catching up to her. Like this wasn’t serious. Like there were no monsters around. What the fuck did Vance do to her girl? He turned her into an empty-headed bimbo. Sarah spat at the ground. Like she used to be before this shit happened. Being like that only caused her grief. Vance would break Priss’s heart.

  Spacey walked beside her in silence. It kept her somewhat calm knowing she was not alone in this. Sane Spacey wouldn’t offer her this feeling of comfort. She didn’t know what to do about the two personalities inside the man, so she chose not to bother and enjoy the moment for what it was.

  Sarah glanced back. Was she being a bitch about those two? Priss was younger than she was, and never got to experience the typical teenage life before the zombie apocalypse, and wouldn’t have one now, except for this one moment. Inappropriate as hell considering the circumstances. And stupid. But weren’t all teenagers incorrigibly dumb at some point? Herself included? Sarah shook her head. No, not anymore.

 

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