Escape from the Damned (APEX Predator Book 2)

by Glyn Gardner

  “She’s gone,” he announced as he stood up.

  “No!” cried Theresa. Over the past few days she and Brianna had become pretty close. Theresa finally felt like she had a real friend again. Now she’d lost another one to the zombies. Tears cut trails down her cheeks. The others heard her sob.

  Jen reached out to the young girl, embracing her tightly. The girl’s body shuddered. Jen stroked the younger girl’s hair. Over the past three weeks, Theresa had stepped up everywhere she was needed. She’d become quite adept at killing zombies. She’d stepped in to help Jen take care of the little girl who had fallen out of the truck.

  She’s just a teenager Jen reminded herself. She watched her family die. She’s not emotionally prepared for all of this. “It’s ok, baby. It’s ok,” she whispered as she continued stroking the girl’s hair.

  SSgt Brown did a quick nose count. Jackson and Sgt Procell were the only soldiers on the roof. Mrs. Arrington only had two girls and a single boy huddled around her crying. Mike was standing behind Jen and Theresa. Kerry was staring at the mass of zombies growing in the kennels.

  Where is everyone else? We’re missing some people. His heart raced.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked.

  “Mr. Love, the other teacher and two of the boys ran in to help, I think.” Kerry wasn’t sure. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she added. SSgt Brown gave her a quizzical look. “If they’re still in there, we aren’t going to be able to help them,” she said flatly.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Sgt Procell paced the roof. Jefferson and Williams were his troopers. They’d been in his squad since they’d arrived at Ft Campbell last year. They were his responsibility.

  He was overtaken by a wave of nausea. He dropped to his knees, dry heaving. “Oh God,” he croaked between heaves. “Those were my guys. I should have been there.” Another wave of nausea hit him. This time his breakfast splashed onto the roof.

  “What the fuck,” he pleaded to no one in particular as he stood. “What the fuck happened?” He looked to Jen. “You were there. What happened?”

  She looked up at the soldier as he continued to pace the roof. “I don’t know. I heard an explosion and a scream. I ran and found the whole room burning.” She continued to stroke the younger girl’s hair as she spoke.

  “Did you say on fire? Like a gas fire?” asked SSgt Brown.

  “I don’t know if it was gas or not, but it was a fire. The teacher ran in with a fire extinguisher.”

  “Oh shit!” SSgt Brown exclaimed. He ran to the corner of the roof and looked down. Thirty feet away a white cylinder was lying in the parking lot. There was still smoke rising from it. Below his feet, he could see zombies climbing through the hole in the side of the building. There was smoke pouring out of the hole, and a strange light emanating from the building.

  “Shit, we have a fire,” he announced. His mind began to race. How was he going to get 11 people off the roof of a burning veterinarian’s office in the middle of the zombie apocalypse? They never covered that in BNCOC, Basic Non-Commissioned Officer Course.

  He trotted to the front of the building. There, about 8 feet below him was the HMMWV, surrounded by about a bazillion zombies. He wasn’t even sure if they could drive it through the mass of flesh.

  “Jackson, Sgt Procell,” he said over his shoulder. “Over here.” The two soldiers complied.

  “Jackson,” he ordered. “Hop down and get her started.” Jackson handed his rifle to his NCO and slid his body over the edge, slowly lowering himself until his feet were about a foot above the top of the vehicle. He dropped the last foot. SSgt Brown handed the young trooper his rifle.

  “You’re next,” he told Sgt Procell. They heard the HMMWV start. The NCO handed his rifle off and followed the young trooper. His right boot caught the turret ring when he landed. The Engineer fell onto his back. Hands grabbed at his uniform. He quickly shook them off and stood in the center of the vehicle’s roof, out of reach of the zombies.

  It was SSgt Brown’s turn. SSgt Brown handed his own, and Sgt Procell’s rifle to the younger NCO. He turned to the group of civilians. “We’ll be right back with the truck.” He turned and began sliding over the side. They watched him disappear from site. He hit hard, but was able to keep his balance. Sgt Procell returned his rifle as the older man climbed into the turret ring.

  “Pull up behind the LMTV,” he ordered. “Get as close as you can.”

  The HMMWV began to move forward. Jackson was forced to give it some gas as the mass of flesh pressed against the vehicle. Finally, the zombies in front of them were either knocked down and run over or pushed out of the way. Jackson pulled the HMMWV up to the bed of the LMTV.

  SSgt Brown climbed out of the turret ring and into the bed of the bigger truck. After climbing down the turret ring, he started the truck. He backed it against the front of the building.

  Climbing into the back of the truck, he noticed several undead who were pinned between the bumper and the wall. Pulling out his combat knife, he jammed it into the head of each one. They stopped clawing at him as he did.

  “Send the kids first,” he ordered the people on the roof. The first kid was the girl named Alicia. She was the girl who had fallen out of this very truck a little over a week ago. Mike held her by her wrists as SSgt Brown grabbed her waist, guiding her feet to the deck of the truck. He continued to help everyone until all the survivors were in the back of the truck.

  The truck was completely surrounded again when he finally climbed into the driver’s seat. He slowly let the truck roll forward.

  “Hang on back there,” he yelled. He wondered if anyone else found it funny. Probably not.

  His heart sank as he looked in the rearview mirror. There, sitting in the parking lot was the yellow panel van. He thought about all the supplies he’d just left behind. Shit.

  Jackson pulled the HMMWV in behind the LMTV as it moved east along the highway.

  “So, you still think your unit made it to Atlanta?” the young trooper asked Sgt Procell.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. He felt ten years older today than he did yesterday. “I sure hope they did. There were a lot of good people in the 326th.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He could feel the tears welling up again.

  “Did I ever tell you about Anderson?” the young trooper asked.

  “No,”

  Jackson took a deep breath. He knew how this was going to go down, but he also knew he needed it. So did Sgt Procell.

  “Anderson and I were buddies in high school. You know, played on the same basketball team, double dated, and got in trouble together? He was the best. We even joined the National Guard together. He couldn’t run for shit. I spent all spring trying to get his ass in shape so basic wouldn’t be too bad on him.”

  “We went to Ft. Knox together. Buddy team, you know?”

  Sgt Procell knew the type. He’d seen guys like Jackson and this Anderson guy.

  “During basic, my momma got real sick. She ended up on a ventilator and everything. The CO of the training company denied the Red Cross message. He said my training was too important. You know what that crazy bastard did? We was on KP the next day. He snuck out the back door and ended up in the battalion commander’s office. I was crying over my sick momma on KP and Anderson was going to the Colonel for me.” Tears began to run down the young troopers face.

  “What happened? You get to go home?”

  “Yup, got there just in time to say good-by to Momma before she died.” His voice got shaky.

  “Anderson got an Article 15 for dereliction of duty and disobeying a superior officer.”

  “Sounds like he was a good guy,” Sgt Procell said.

  “He was. You know what happened to him?”

  Sgt Procell shook his head no.

  “He got bit on the first day. He got bit, he changed, and he killed a couple of civilians.” Jackson was crying now. He could hardly see through the tears.

  Sgt Procell put a hand on the young trooper’s sh
oulder. “I’m sorry” was all he could manage.

  “It’s ok,” the trooper said. “He was still my best friend. No matter what shitty thing life dealt him, he was still my best friend. I’ll never forget what he looked like when he turned, but I don’t ever want to forget who he was. I miss him.”

  For the next half hour, the pair told the tails of the people they’d lost. It seemed to Sgt Procell like they were having some kind of twisted, demented wake. They talked, they cried, and they even laughed some. When the LMTV pulled over, both men felt like a huge weight had been lifted.

  The LMTV pulled over about an hour later. SSgt Brown told everyone to hop out and stretch their legs. Jackson pulled the HMMWV in behind the big truck.

  There was very little chit chat. Most of the group looked to be in a state of shock. SSgt Brown could see they were tired. He understood. They had had it pretty easy for the past week. They had food, water, and a safe place to stay.

  In the course of 10 minutes, that had all changed. Now, they were back on the run again. They’d lost friends. The kids seemed to be taking it worse than the rest. All three of them were crying. He could understand. They had lost three of their friends and two of their teachers. The only teacher left was Mrs. Arrington and she was almost catatonic

  “Jen,” he called. “I need to talk to you about the kids.”

  “They’re in pretty bad shape,” she said. “They haven’t stopped crying since we got off the roof.”

  “How’s Mrs. Arrington?”

  “Useless. She hasn’t said a word all day. She’s shut down.”

  “Can you do anything for her or the kids?”

  “I can try. Let, Theresa, and Kerry talk to them for a while. Those two need to get some trauma out in the open too, so maybe it’ll be good for everyone to have a nice group cry.”

  “Ok, get everyone some food and we’ll get moving in an hour or so.”

  He watched her as she walked towards Theresa and Kerry. He turned and walked toward the HMMWV.

  “Ok, boss,” Sgt Procell greeted him. “What’s the plan now?”

  “Well, I don’t think anything has changed, except the timeline. We keep heading east until we cross the river, then we head north. We just have to do some grocery shopping on the way. Get something to eat. Jackson and you will lead in the HMMWV and Mike and I will stay with the rest of the civvies in the LMTV.”

  He grabbed the map from the HMMWV and unfolded it on the hood.

  “We need to skirt around Monroe. I’m not opposed to using the highway if you see fit. Get some chow. We move out in an hour.”

  The sun was getting low in the rearview mirror as they approached the outskirts of Monroe. SSgt Brown flashed his lights. The HMMWV pulled to the shoulder.

  The last few hours had been relatively uneventful. After running into an old traffic jam on highway 80, they were forced to spend another 20 minutes trying to find a way back to the interstate. They’d made relatively good time until they hit another traffic jam. This one was so bad, Sgt Procell and Mike were forced to get out and lead the vehicles on foot.

  SSgt Brown thought about how vulnerable they were in the traffic jam. If a few zombies had shown up, they wouldn’t have been able to turn the vehicles around and run. They’d have been forced to abandon the vehicles. He realized they’d lucked out. He didn’t want to push his luck any farther.

  “What’s up boss,” asked Sgt Procell as he approached the big truck.

  “Let’s find a place to hold up for the night. I don’t want to get too close to a city with sixty or seventy thousand souls in the dark.”

  “Can do boss.” The young NCO jogged back to the HMMWV.

  “I think there’s a big truck stop coming up in a few miles,” Mike added from the passenger seat. “We can always stop there. It’s a few miles outside of town and there really isn’t anything around it, so it should be pretty safe.”

  “Let me know when we get close,” the NCO answered. “I’ll get Jackson to stop.”

  The number of cars stopped on the side of the road had increased over the past hour. SSgt Brown wondered why all of these people had stopped here. It didn’t look like the traffic jam on highway 80. It wasn’t like something was in the way. He supposed that some of them could have run out of gas.

  He slowed as they passed a maroon colored Dodge SUV. Inside he could see motion. The windows appeared to be fogged up as he coasted past the Dodge. He saw a hand flash across the window, leaving a bloody streak as it did.

  Turning his attention back to the road, his mind finally realized what he had just seen: A zombie. It must have turned while driving. Somehow, it didn’t crash. He shuddered at the thought of spending eternity locked in a car, probably still strapped into the seatbelt. He’d have to remember to tell the rest to be careful if they open any car doors.

  SSgt Brown could see the big blue and orange sign before Mike said anything.

  “That it?” he asked.

  “Yup.”

  He flashed his lights at Jackson and turned on this turn signal. The young troop understood and exited, stopping a few hundred meters from the intersection. He and Sgt Procell dismounted with nothing but their weapons.

  “You stay here with the rest of the group,” he told Mike.

  “Everyone stay in the truck,” he told the rest as he exited the cab.

  “I’m assuming you don’t want to just go driving up without checking it out first,” Sgt Procell said.

  “Nope,” he answered. He nodded his head at Jackson who lead the three soldiers through the ankle high grass. SSgt Brown realized he finally felt at ease in the company of Sgt Procell and Pvt Jackson. They were soldiers. They were trained. They followed orders. They’d signed up to put their lives on the line.

  That was it. He and the other soldiers had agreed long ago to risk life and limb for their fellow man. These civilians hadn’t. They had been forced into this situation by… by what? By God? By man? By something out of their control. That was the problem that had been eating at him. These civilians were innocent. They were victims.

  He saw Jackson climbing the embankment towards the back of the truck stop. He thought of Theresa. Before they’d been forced to stop at the vet’s clinic, she’d been in Jackson’s hip pocket. If Jackson went into a room, Theresa was there watching his back. And she had become very good at it.

  He had trouble thinking of Theresa as a victim. Yes, she’d seen horror unknown to him and his soldiers. But, she did not act like a victim. She’d changed. The horrors she’d seen had hardened her. She didn’t see herself as a victim. She saw herself as...as what? A soldier? A teammate? No, that’s not it. She carried herself like a member of the family. We’re not her friends. We’re her family. And she’s my family. They’re all my family.

  Jackson reached the top of the embankment and immediately knew they were in trouble. There were six or seven big rigs in the parking lot, as well as about ten cars in front of the store. The sliding glass doors were stuck open, held there by a motionless body.

  He crouched. The other soldiers knelt next to him. He pointed to the body in the door.

  “That ain’t good,” he whispered.

  “Shit,” Sgt Procell muttered. A dead body means either a zombie waiting to reanimate, or someone inside who is trying to defend what he sees as his.

  SSgt Brown pointed to a truck that was parked close to the diesel pumps. It was close to the convenience store entrance and away from the other trucks. He held a finger to his lips and pointed to his bayonet. The message was loud and clear. Keep it quiet. Both troops fixed their bayonets to the ends of their rifles.

  The trio crossed skirted the parking lot, crossing as they closed in on the big rig. Nothing moved as they reached the truck. SSgt Brown was contemplating where to go next. There still wasn’t anything moving in the parking lot. He pointed towards the front door.

  “You guys get to the door. I’ll cover.”

  The two moved out without a word. As they reached the do
or, SSgt Brown heard something behind him. Turning, he didn’t see anything. The noise continued. It was above him. He turned his head trying to pinpoint the noise. It was a very faint scratching sound. The cab! It was coming from the cab.

  He could see that the window appeared to be smeared with something. Something was moving. He reached for the handle, releasing his knife from its sheath as he did. Suddenly a bloody hand banged on the window, streaking it with more blood. A face appeared in the window. It had belonged to a man when he was alive. Now, it was gray, blood smeared, and it was missing its nose, and most of its right cheek. Its lips were curled up in a dead man’s snarl.

  The zombie began moaning loudly, and banging on the window. Suddenly, the monster’s ghastly moans were answered by dozens of others. SSgt Brown turned to the two troopers, now mere feet from the open door. Both men were in the process of skidding to a stop. Jackson’s feet had slipped out from under him and he landed on his butt.

  Suddenly, zombies began pouring out of the door. Jackson was crab walking backwards, trying to bring his rifle to bear. The two troops had split from each other as they approached the door. Now, as they backed away from the ever growing group of zombies, they were also separating themselves from each other.

  Jackson was on his back now, still trying to get his rifle up. Several zombies were within a few feet of the young troop. He kicked one in the knee with his right foot as he rolled to the left. The monster’s leg crumpled. It fell to the ground, missing the soldier by inches.

  Jackson knew he was in trouble. He needed space and he didn’t have it. The closest zombie was on the ground, trying to regain its feet. There were several others almost as close. He tucked his head and began rolling away from the horde. He could hear shots being fired as he did.

  Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain under his left armpit. He glanced at his shoulder as he continued rolling. There, covered in blood was his bayonet. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Ok, time to stop rolling around with a sharp object, he thought.