Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies | Book 3 | Firestorm

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Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies | Book 3 | Firestorm Page 3

by Baker, Scott M.


  When he and Rebecca stumbled across this pharmacy, neither expected to find enough supplies to last them several months, but they didn’t expect it to be cleaned out. Everything that could be useful during the apocalypse had been cleared off the shelves. The only things left were the cosmetics and the Christmas cards and displays, and even the latter were down to only a few tacky items.

  “What did you find?” asked Rebecca as she strolled down the aisle.

  Even in dungarees and a utility shirt that were covered in weeks of dirt, and her unwashed blonde hair tied in a ponytail, she still looked beautiful. They had known each other since attending Dartmouth and had been dating for three months when the outbreak occurred. Since he lived in Chicago and had no way of returning home, she had invited him to stay with her parents at their farm in upstate New York. It had been perfect, if you didn’t count that her parents had been taking a cruise in the Caribbean and had not been heard from since. They had become lovers and good friends. God knows what would have happened if a band of thugs hadn’t wandered onto their compound one night three weeks ago, stolen the livestock, and ransacked the house. He and Rebecca barely made it out alive with their bug out bags and had been roaming the woods since. Their food and water had lasted less than a week, forcing them to resort to scavenging to stay alive, without much success.

  “There’s nothing except three bottles of gummy vitamins.”

  “Which type?”

  “Multi-flavored.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Rebecca knelt and lifted out each bottle. “Two Mickey Mouse and a Flintstones vitamin. Yabba dabba doomed.”

  “Really?”

  “You have to maintain a sense of humor or you’ll go insane.”

  “What did you find?”

  Rebecca opened the bag and showed it to Joel. “Several pairs of pantyhose.”

  “What good are those?”

  “They’ll help keep you warm on a cold night.”

  “Hopefully, we won’t have any more of those.”

  “We can help you with that.”

  Two men stood at the end of the aisle. Each carried an AK-47, the straps behind their necks, the weapons dangling in front of their chests. Rebecca reached under her winter coat and withdrew a Beretta 92FS 9mm pistol from its holster. The man on the left raised his AK-47 into firing position.

  The other man stepped in front of his buddy and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Calm down. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  Rebecca did not lower the Beretta. “Then why are you here?”

  “The same reason you are. We’re gathering supplies.”

  “There’s nothing left, so you can go.” Rebecca tightened her grip on the trigger.

  “I don’t want any trouble.” The man gestured for his friend to lower his weapon, which he did. “If I wanted to harm you, you’d both be dead by now. Besides, there are others outside. If you shoot us, they’ll make sure you don’t get out of here alive. Lower your gun.”

  Rebecca did nothing.

  “Please.”

  Joel placed his hand on Rebecca’s. “Put the gun away.”

  Rebecca lowered the weapon to her side.

  The man stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’m Todd Dickson. The trigger-happy guy behind me is Jack Carter.”

  “I’m Joel.” He shook Todd’s hand. “This is Rebecca.”

  “A pleasure to meet you both.” Todd went to shake Rebecca’s hand but she declined. He shrugged and stepped back. “Did you find anything useful in here?”

  “No,” Rebecca answered curtly.

  “I guess there’s no need for us to check it out,” Dickson said to Carter. He focused his attention back on Joel and Rebecca. “We’ve had the same problem. Every place has been stripped clean.”

  “I hear you,” agreed Joel.

  “Have you been on the road long?”

  Rebecca answered for Joel. “Too long.”

  “Same here.” Dickson allowed a short pause. “I can see you’re both really low on supplies.”

  “We’re fine,” Rebecca insisted.

  “You’re not. I can see from here your backpacks are empty.” Dickson remained pleasant. “We don’t have much ourselves, but we can share some with you.”

  Joel’s eyes widened. What luck. “That would be great. Th—”

  Rebecca cut him off. “I said, we’re fine.”

  Joel spun around to face Rebecca, his voice forceful but quiet. “Stop being rude. They want to help.”

  “They want something, but it’s not to help.”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Dickson. “We’ll wait outside while you talk this over.”

  “There’s nothing to talk over,” Rebecca responded.

  “She’s right,” Joel snapped. “If you have something you can share with us, we’d appreciate that.”

  “Great.” Dickson walked for the exit. “Follow me.”

  Rebecca grabbed Joel’s arm and whispered. “Please, don’t. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Joel brushed her hand away. “Will you trust me? I know what I’m doing.”

  Joel stepped away and paused after several steps, waiting for his girlfriend. Rebecca stood still and glared at him, her eyes burning with fury. She lowered her gaze and followed Joel outside.

  Four vehicles formed a U in the parking lot in front of the entrance: a black Hummer, two pick-up trucks, and a van. Two men and two women milled around the vehicles, none of them appearing to pose a threat. Joel didn’t see any reason to be concerned, not even when he noticed a haggard young woman peering at him through the side window of the cap on the bed of the old pick-up truck mouthing the words. “Run. Run. Run.”

  “Elaine,” Dickson called out. “Pop the trunk and give our friends some water.”

  The woman lifted the rear hatch of the Silverado. Joel leaned closer and peered inside. He spotted two twenty-packs of bottled spring water, one of them opened, an opened case of Spam, a dozen boxes of ammunition, and sundry other supplies. Dickson pulled out three bottles of water and strolled back to Joel and Rebecca, handing one to each of them. The third he kept for himself. Dickson twisted off the cap and tossed it onto the pavement, then raised his bottle in a toast.

  “To survival.”

  Joel tapped his bottle against Dickson’s and both men took a drink. Rebecca had not opened hers yet.

  Joel finished half his bottle before stopping. “Damn, that’s good. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much to drink.”

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  “We couldn’t take any more of your stuff. You need it.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Dickson took another drink and smiled. “We’re a team. We share everything with each other.”

  Alarm bells went off in Rebecca’s mind. “We’re not part of your team.”

  “You are now.”

  Only then did Joel realize what he had had gotten them into. “I appreciate the water. Rebecca and I prefer to be on our own.”

  “Nonsense.” Dickson chuckled. “We all need to stick together if we hope to survive this.”

  “That’s okay. But thanks for the offer.”

  “It’s not an offer.” Dickson still maintained an air of pleasantry although a menacing quality tinged his voice. “You’re part of the team, whether you like it or not.”

  “Let’s go,” ordered Rebecca.

  “Neither of you are going anywhere.” Dickson glared at Rebecca with an intensity that caused her to avert her gaze.

  Joel noticed that Carter and Elaine had unslung their weapons and were ready to use them at a moment’s notice.

  Dickson returned his attention to Joel. “Let’s be reasonable. I’m surprised the two of you have lasted as long as you did on your own. Shit, we’re finding it tough. If we combine our resources, we can better defend ourselves against deaders and we have more people to go into difficult places to gather supplies. You’re part of the team. It’s your choice if you
join us or them.”

  Dickson pointed to the rear end of the Chevy pick-up. One of the other men had lifted the hatch and lowered the tailgate, revealing a woman and two kids in back, all of whom looked like they had gone through Hell.

  “Who are they?” asked Joel.

  “What’s left of a family given the opportunity to join us and who opted out. We use the mother to scout out places so we don’t run into deaders. The kids are insurance she does her job. So, what’s it going to be? Are you with us or should I stick you in there with them?”

  Shit, thought Joel. He should have listened to Rebecca. If they had left the store via the back exit, they might have had a chance. Now the two of them were trapped. Trying to sound as positive as possible, he responded. “We’re with you.”

  “Good choice.” Dickson gestured and the man closed the bed. “You two can ride with me and Nora in the Hummer. We have assault rifles that are much more effective in dealing with deaders than that Beretta your wife is carrying.”

  “Rebecca’s my girlfriend.”

  “Perfect. Then you won’t mind sharing her with us.”

  Joel stared at Dickson, dumbfounded. “What?”

  “When I said we share everything, I meant it.”

  For a few seconds, Joel considered telling Dickson to fuck off and walking away, letting the cards fall where they may. Deep down he knew he didn’t have that type of courage. He didn’t want to die or, even worse, be shoved into the back of the pick-up and used as bait. Giving in was easier and safer.

  Now if he could convince Rebecca of that.

  Joel turned around to face Rebecca. “Honey?”

  “Don’t you call me honey, you spineless prick.”

  “I know this isn’t easy—”

  “Fuck off!”

  Moving closer to Rebecca, he spoke softly so the others couldn’t here. “It’s going to happen whether you agree or not. If you go along with them, we don’t get shoved in the back of that pick-up.”

  “You don’t get shoved in the back of that pick-up.”

  Her words hurt because they were true. “It’s the only way.”

  “I bet you wouldn’t be so willing to share if they wanted to shove their cocks up your ass.” Rebecca sneered at him. “No, you’d suck them off if it meant staying alive.”

  “Please.”

  Rebecca slapped Joel so hard across the face it felt like he had been punched. She shoved Joel aside and confronted Dickson.

  “Let’s get this over with. I assume you’re first?”

  “Not me. My boys.” Dickson glanced over his shoulder. “You guys can use the back of the van. And no rough stuff. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” yelled Carter. He motioned for the other two men to follow. The three opened the back of the cargo van and ushered Rebecca inside. A minute later, the van began rocking.

  Joel turned away so he didn’t have to watch.

  Dickson draped his left arm across Joel’s shoulders and faced him back toward the van, talking to him like they were old friends. “I know it’s tough at first, but you get used to it after a while. Besides, you can have your way with Nora and Elaine if you want. I meant it when I said we share everything. We cool?”

  “Yes,” Joel lied, wishing he did not have to keep his eyes on the van.

  Dickson tapped his water bottle against Joel’s and took a drink. “To survival.”

  After several minutes, the rocking stopped and the three men climbed out, straightening and zipping up their pants. They high fived each other.

  Dickson nudged Joel forward. “Your turn.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Seal the deal. Once you’ve had your turn, you’re part of the team.”

  Joel hesitated.

  Dickson motioned with his head toward the van. “Go on.”

  Joel could not bring himself to see Rebecca like this.

  “Do it.” Dickson’s harsh tone warned Joel this was his last chance.

  Joel approached the van, bracing himself for what he would find. When he rounded the corner, his stomach churned. Rebecca’s pants and underwear had been removed and her shirt and bra pushed up around her neck. They had not beaten or hurt Rebecca, only used her. She lay there, not even attempting to get up or get dressed. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, unmoving, as though, if she focused on one small portion of the van, she could forget about everything that had happened. The beautiful face that used to be so full of happiness and love now displayed only one emotion: humiliation. He had allowed the women he loved to be broken by his own cowardice. Dear God, what had he done?

  Dickson cleared his throat loudly and pointed to inside the van.

  Joel crawled in. Kneeling in front of Rebecca, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers. As he drew nearer to Rebecca, her eyes turned to him. She scowled with a combination of pain, disgust, and fury. It nearly broke his heart. When he positioned himself on top of her, rather than except her lover passionately, she closed her eyes and turned her head to one side. Joel felt like a useless piece of shit.

  Yet he did what he had to do to stay safe.

  Chapter Four

  The sunlight streaming through the bedroom window stirred Alissa awake. She rolled over, shading the rays with her hand. Her feet brushed Archer, who laid curled into a ball at the bottom of the bed, asleep. The cat stretched, one of those dramatic actions with the arched back and gaping jaw, then strolled up the mattress and cuddled up against her, purring loudly.

  Alissa reached out and petted him. “Good morning, asshat.”

  Archer rubbed his head against her palm.

  She checked the alarm clock. It read 9:17.

  “I think we overslept.”

  Archer meowed, dived off the bed, and raced over to his food dish. His gaze alternated between his mistress and the empty bowl. When Alissa did not respond fast enough, he called the catastrophe to her attention with a prolonged meow.

  “I love you, too.”

  Getting out of bed, Alissa opened one of the cans of wet cat food she kept on the bureau, emptied it into the dish, and cracked the window to dissipate the smell. As Archer gulped down his meal, Alissa freshened up, dressed, and headed downstairs, leaving the bedroom door ajar.

  Only Little Stevie sat at the dining room table playing Nintendo Switch. He raised his head long enough to see who came downstairs before turning his attention back to the game.

  “Hi, Aunt Alissa.”

  “Hello. What are you playing?”

  “Animal Crossing. By the way, mom left your breakfast in the microwave.”

  “Thanks.” Alissa passed by Little Stevie on her way to the kitchen, pausing to muss his air.

  “Cooties,” he said with a smile.

  Alissa went into the kitchen and opened the microwave. Scrambled eggs and sausage. She would have to thank Miriam later for putting some aside. Punching one minute into the timer, she reheated the plate, pouring herself a cup of coffee while waiting. With her breakfast complete, she went back into the living area and sat at the dining room table across from Little Stevie.

  “Where is everyone?” Alissa asked as she sipped her coffee.

  “Nathan and Chris went out to sit on a parameter.”

  Alissa did a spit take onto the table. As she wiped up the mess with her napkin, she asked, “Do you mean set up a perimeter?”

  Little Stevie shrugged. “I guess. They took Kiera with them.”

  “Where’s your mom and dad.”

  Without taking his attention off the game, he rolled his eyes and pointed upstairs. Alissa listened. Through the floor, she heard the bed in the guest room squeaking. She suppressed a smile. Lucky them. Alissa could not remember the last time she had given her mattress a workout. Her mind went back to Nathan and Chris.

  “Did the guys say when they’d be back?”

  “Probably not for a while. They filled a wheelbarrow before they headed off into the words.”

  A day to relax and do nothing. Like almost every day
since they arrived at the cabin.

  Alissa scooped some of the eggs into her mouth. She would make breakfast last a while.

  * * *

  Nathan unwrapped the coil of barbed wire around the tree trunk, circling it once, then continued to the next tree in line, keeping the strand four feet above the ground. Chris followed behind him, hammering two nails into the tree above and below the loop at an angle to anchor the strand in place. Kiera brought up the rear of the production line. Nathan had already stripped the labels off the old food cans they had used and punched a hole in each can an inch from the top rim. She tied two cans to the strand stretching between each tree and then covered the bottom of the can with pebbles and small rocks. Shithead took on the self-appointed role as protector of the realm, chasing every squirrel that threatened the safety of the group.

  “Let’s take a break,” suggested Nathan.

  The three of them sat down on an old tree that had fallen over and drank from their canteens. Shithead continued waging his one-dog war.

  “Tell me again. What are we doing?” asked Chris.

  “We’re setting up an early warning system around the cabin.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  Nathan gestured for Kiera to pass him one of the cans. When she did, he scooped up a handful of stones and tossed them inside. “If something gets caught in the barbed wire, it’ll shake the cans.” He jiggled it from side to side, allowing the stones to bang against the metal. “We know there are deaders approaching.”

  “Won’t animals set it off?”

  “Keeping the height at four feet will allow almost everything to pass underneath without disturbing the wire, except for deer and bears. Even then, once they tap the wire, they’ll avoid it. Only deaders will be dumb enough to keep pushing against it, which will create a lot of noise.”

  “I guess.” Chris did not sound convinced.

  “Trust me, it’ll work.”

  “Won’t you have to be outside to hear it?” asked Kiera in all seriousness.

  For a moment, Nathan had no answer. Chris made no attempt to hide his grin. He pointed to Kiera and then tapped his brow repeatedly. Kiera didn’t see the gesture, her attention on Nathan waiting for an answer.

 

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