Outbreak (The Outbreak Series Book 1)

by Victor Deckard

  “All right, what exactly do you want me to do?” I wanted to know.

  “You should take a rest to retrieve all your powers and get your memories back. Won’t take long for that. No more than twenty-four hours, for sure. So find a secure place and grab some sleep. Even make a day of it. And then meet me at the facility. Then we’ll put the wheels in motion to rescue Mother.”

  “The facility? Where the hell is this place?”

  “You’ll remember this. I’ll be waiting for you for twenty-four hours. If you don’t show up at the facility by then, I’ll go get Mother out alone. So don’t be late.”

  “I won’t,” I promised.

  “Good. Now haul ass.”

  I nodded, then, having musingly looked at Frank one last time, spun around, and made for the backdoor, crouching and taking care not to stick my head out into the open. On reaching the door, I heard gunshots from the street; it would be Frank engaging our enemies. The door admitted me to a short hallway. At the end of it was another door with an exit sign above it. I headed down the corridor, the gunshots and the shouts of dying men muffled now. Pushing the door open, I got out of the building and looked around to get my bearings.

  And then I zoomed off. The soldiers were too busy fighting Frank and couldn’t be sitting on my tail any longer, so I finally gave them the slip.

  Chapter Four

  I was traversing a residential area, which looked altogether deserted. All buildings I encounter on my way across the district were derelict and dilapidated. I haven’t run into any people thus far, but every so often I heard indistinct screams from someplace. Yet they were too far away from me to concern me.

  And then I got within earshot of the unmistakable distant rumble of a helicopter’s spinning rotor blades. I looked around to see the chopper roar overhead off to my right, the light of the spotlight raking across the district, combing the streets after me. I couldn’t tell for sure if it was the same chopper Frank and I had encountered earlier, but this one also had a door gunner manning a big .50 machine gun.

  I ducked into a nearby shack through a wide opened door to avoid being seen. On hearing the chopper zooming overhead, I walked over to a window and peek warily out. Having passed over the shack’s roof, the chopper banked right, veering around in a wide arc for another sweep over the district. Obviously, they believed me to be holed up somewhere in this area.

  I waited for the helicopter to move away from the shack I was in, got out and took off. Every once in a while the chopper would drift dangerously close to me, so I would have to get inside a nearby building. When the helicopter would fly away enough for me to get out without being noticed, I would resume my fleeing. Fortunate for me was it that most of the shabby houses had their doors opened. Making my getaway this way, continually in and out, I was gradually moving away from the area the chopper was combing.

  In spite of a wild urge to run away from the residential area as fast as possible, I had to force myself not to haste so as not to let impatience jinx my getaway. Thus far, it was going really smoothly and there was no need to blow it.

  I was working my way across the district until I ran into some house. At first glance, I thought the house was as derelict as the next one, but I changed my opinion of it as I drew closer. There were sounds coming from someplace inside the house, muffled by the walls. Dim light was filtering out into the street through the windows covered by thin filthy curtains. Someone was inside, all right. And I wasn’t about to go and meet them, whoever they were. I decided to err on the side of caution and give the fishy house a wide berth.

  Moving away from the house, I cast glances back at it from time to time. On one such occasion, out of the blue, someone appeared in one of the front windows. He seemed to stare in my direction. When backing away, I heard the entrance door slam wide open smashing against the wall. On wheeling around, I saw several people burst out of the house, piling out and glaring at me menacingly. They weren’t just teed off but completely enraged. To a man, they looked as insane as they come. Nutcases to the full. Their behavior amounted to blood thirst.

  I had the 9mm Frank had given me back inside the truck with enough bullets to take out all the nuts that had just gotten out of the house. However, the chopper wasn’t out of earshot and sounds of gunfire could draw its occupants’ attention. So I set about retreating instead, taking care to move slowly so as not to rile the nuts up. Yet once I started moving, all the crazies came at me, some of them brandishing away knives in a highly vicious manner, blades cleaving the air.

  I whirled around and broke into a run. I heard them barreling after me, shouting at me. The exact words were indistinct and unintelligible, their speech indistinguishable, animal rather than human. Crazies were just about on my heels, but I wasn’t willing to gun them down lest gunshots draw the helicopter and its happy-trigger gunners’ attention.

  Somewhere up ahead over the roofs of one-story houses loomed a large Walmart. I headed for it. Every now and then, I glanced back over my shoulder and on one such occasion caught a glimpse of the chopper banking hard to wheel around. I guessed the helicopter’s occupants noticed the frenzied activity of the nuts and were keen on finding out the reasons behind their agitation. Wouldn’t be long before they spied me. Things had just gone from bad to worse.

  I kept running seeing that there wasn’t anything else I could do.

  Finally, I got out of the residential area. Up ahead stood the Walmart. A parking lot with a scattering of stray vehicles parked in a haphazard fashion, all of which had long since been abandoned, was spread out in front of the huge store. I made good time getting to the Walmart. Halfway across the huge parking lot, I looked back. I was surprised to see the nuts standing at the shoulder of a road, just outside the residential area. Either they weren’t all that keen about getting too far away from their home or something about the Walmart itself precluded them from getting any closer to it. Perhaps they knew something nasty about it, something so malevolent and dreadful that even they, fearless nuts, weren’t in the slightest eager to get inside it. It might have prevented me from entering the Walmart had it not been for the helicopter, which was still drifting closer to me. I had to get into the cover of that huge mall, so I got inside.

  The place was a mess. All kinds of articles, however valuable, were gathered into huge piles. The inside of the building was filled with those piles spaced far from one another. I had to find the way out on the other end of the store, so I commenced negotiating the place, moving quickly but silently, dodging among the big piles of wreckage, most of which were much higher my head level, and some really dwarfed me.

  I had my M9 drawn and at the ready. The Walmart was way too quiet, no sound reaching within my hearing save for my own footfalls. It was pretty dark as well. The entire area was illuminated only by TV sets scattered around. Having already been plugged in and powered up, they emitted dim, shimmering light, the screens showing nothing but static, quivering specks of interference. The TVs were too far apart to have the whole place lit up. For this reason, there were a lot of pockets of darkness in between.

  Something about the Walmart ruled those nuts’ chasing me out when they spotted me enter the store, but I still couldn’t put my finger on it.

  I was on the full alert for anything to occur. Still, I strode on for a couple of minutes without anything happening at all. And then I heard a barely audible rustle, but couldn’t place it. Suddenly, I had a funny feeling of being watched. Funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha. In those pockets of darkness might be lurking just about anything. If something was going to jump me from there, I was ready to deal with that.

  So when the sound of footsteps reached my ears from behind, I whirled around in a matter of a second, raising my 9mm to bring it to bear on whoever was intent on ambushing me from behind. And I saw a bare-chested man who was running forward, his right arm stretched out, his hand open, and his fingers spread. He had just flung a knife with a nasty long blade at me, which was n
ow spinning flying through the air, rotating around toward me so swiftly that I didn’t have enough time to dodge it.

  Still, it didn’t lodge itself in my face. As the knife got closer, a wave of some power swept over me before I felt something erupt from my body, and then the knife suddenly swerved changing the direction slightly and missing my left eye by a hair. There was no time to reflect on this as the man pulled another knife out of its scabbard on his belt. Holding the knife firmly in his hand, he cocked his arm.

  Quickly I took aim and squeezed the trigger. My 9mm barked twice, the report shattering the silence. Double tap to the head. The first bullet tore into his left eye, bursting it; the second one struck him on his forehead before boring through his skull and getting out in a shower of ruptured gore. The man slumped hard to the floor, the knife skittering away.

  I should’ve gotten out of there as fast as possible, but there was something odd about the dead man that bothered me. Curiosity having gotten the better of me, I went over to the dead body lying on the floor with its limbs splayed out and took a look at it. On closer examination, I noticed that the dead man’s torso and arms were covered with numerous burns. The head was altogether bald without any trace of brows or eyelashes. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him prior to our confrontation.

  And then, a sound came from behind. Then another one from the other direction. And yet another, now to my left. Suddenly the air was surcharged with sounds of footfalls and angry shouts. I was looking around seeing crazies leaping out of their hidden places and charging at me from all directions. Some of them were bare-chested, the way the freak I had just offed was. The others were absolutely naked. Repellent burns and ugly long scars copiously covered their bodies. Most toted nasty knives or bats with rusty nails in them.

  I brought my Beretta up at shoulder level and set about discharging it, sending rounds flying right and left. My aim was quite accurate. Each crazy took a bullet to the head. Yet for all my accuracy and shooting skills, the crowd of crazies seemed not to get any smaller. When I fired the whole magazine away at the horde of psychos, my 9mm clicked dry, and the slide locked back. I dropped the spent mag, pulled out a fresh one, slammed it home, and raised my Beretta once more, all in one fluid motion.

  They were outright insane. In spite of my shooting their mates down, all the remaining crazies kept boldly running straight at me as if they didn’t mind to be killed.

  For a moment I just stood there taking stock of my foes and assessing the situation. I came to the unpleasant conclusion that there were far too many of them while I had only so many bullets. There was no way I could gun all of them down. For that reason, I wheeled around and took off.

  I didn’t get far. Around the corner of a nearby pile jumped a bulky nutcase and bumped into me with great force. Being thrown off balance, I collapsed to the floor on my back. By the time I got to my feet, had the big guy lined up in my Beretta’s iron sights, and shot him dead, I had already been surrounded by the horde of crazies coming at me from everywhere. I commenced discharging my M9, slaughtering one nut after another on end. The herd of crazies seemingly didn’t get any smaller. I kept releasing gunfire until I ran out of ammo. When I began to reload my pistol, crazies were on top of me. I had barely inserted a fresh mag into the grip of my M9 when one of the crazies rammed me off my feet, decking me, and then they all had me pinned down on the floor.

  Several crazies nearest me were about to swoop down on me. I was teetering on the brink of being pierced with knives of the nutcases when something weird happened. The now familiar wave of some powerful force swept over me before suddenly gushing out of me. The instant this happened, all the crazies around me were forcibly hurled away from me as if a storm broke out and a strong, gale-force rush of wind blew them away. At the back of my mind was the thought that it was I who somehow brought about those powerful psi-forces, so to speak. However, I didn’t contemplate it for too long. I just didn’t have enough time for that at the moment. I bounced to my feet and bolted away from the crazies who were still recovering from the burst of psi-energy erupted from me and didn’t get up yet.

  This time I was quite sure I could make it out of the Walmart alive seeing that all the crazies were lagging far behind me now. Was I wrong!

  Having turned a pile of wreckage a few feet ahead of me, a woman showed up revealed by a dim light of a nearby TV. She halted and stood still just in my path. The woman was tall, slender, and long-limbed. She had a mop of thick red hair which long flame-orange curls cascaded heavily onto her shoulders. She wore nothing but a short loosely flowing white nightgown. In complete contrast to the crazies, the woman looked perfectly normal, yet something a little peculiar about her had me slacken my pace. She was just standing still there watching me getting closer to her. Seemingly, my approaching the woman in no way concerned her. She wasn’t scared of me at all. Nor of crazies, for that matter. And then she smiled, her full lips parting to reveal straight white teeth. The woman’s peculiar demeanor bothered me and it was getting under my skin, causing me to feel nervous a great deal now. For that reason, I slowed down decreasing my speed even more, notwithstanding the swarm of crazies behind me.

  The woman extended her arms at full length toward me. For a moment, nothing happened, and then in a split second, her hands blazed. They were actually set ablaze! In a moment, two streams of fire gushed from the woman’s palms like ignited flammable liquid from a flamethrower’s muzzle. I had barely swerved to the left when the blaze dashed past me, singing my hair and collided with crazies. Some of them instantly burst into flames. The stench of burning human bodies permeated the air.

  I raced on for my life, circling the woman and firing away at her. My aim was off, and thus far all my shots went wide. She tried to target the two fire streams at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the inferno strike a few more crazies, turning them into living torches. However, it seemed as though those crazies didn’t even try to avoid the fire but leaped on purpose straight into it to set themselves on fire. It reminded me of the first Walmart nutcase I had whacked. His body had abundantly been covered with burns. Maybe those crazies worshipped the woman or something. Maybe they were only too glad to be burnt to a crisp by their goddess. But right now I had no time to mull over that any longer.

  The reek was overpowering now. The blaze erupting from the woman’s palms was bright enough to illuminate all but half the Walmart. It was extremely hot, the air was full of billowing smoke, and I could hardly breathe. Coughing, hacking, and choking, I dashed on around the women, squeezing off one shot after another. The burning crazies were screaming on end. However, they were crying out not only in pain but also in joy too. They were outright insane, all right.

  Watching raging flames swallow the crazies up and consume the rubbish around her, the woman chortled and giggled her ass off, no longer looking like a normal person.

  My M9 clicked dry on the last shot and the slide locked back. Still, I managed to catch her in smack-dab in the middle of her chest with the final round that leaped from the muzzle of my pistol. The woman instantly ceased emitting the two fire torrents from her hands and staggered backward, trying not to collapse to the floor. She managed to keep her balance and looked down at her chest. A crimson splotch of blood grew slowly on her white dress where the bullet had torn into her body.

  She wasn’t laughing her ass off anymore. She was neither giggling nor even smiling now. On the contrary, she was pissed off. And that, I guessed, wasn’t all that good for me. I dropped the spent magazine, pulled the fresh one from a pocket on my vest, and slammed it home. When I had the wounded woman lined up in the iron sights, something heavy one of the crazies had hurled smacked hard against my back, knocking me over and sending me face first onto the floor. The Beretta slipped from my grip and skidded away out of reach. I rolled over onto my back just in time to see the crazies, that which were still alive and kicking, circle me from all directions. They raised their knives and makeshift weap
ons high above their heads in preparation to bring them forcibly down to stab me. You could’ve stuck a fork in me to make sure I was done. I had only a few moments to reconcile myself to the thought of being killed.

  Still, they seemed to be in no hurry to slay me. After a wee while, I realized what they were waiting for. Staggering and clutching at the wound on her chest, the woman was walking toward me, her face contorted with pain and her mouth twisted into a bloodthirsty grin showing white teeth. She was willing to take care of me herself, that was for sure. As she was drawing closer, the woman all of a sudden turned into a blaze, long flames shrouding her whole body from head to toe. The woman’s light white dress was burnt up in a matter of seconds, leaving the woman in the raw. Her red hair with long, wavy locks blended into the orange fire so perfectly that they were indistinguishable from the flames now.

  The crazies fanned out to make room for the woman so as she could get to me. Some of the nutcases nearest her had to be getting hurt by the heat of the blazing woman, yet it didn’t seemingly bother them in the slightest.

  As the crazies stood in a wide circle around me, the woman extended her arms and was about to emit another fire spouts at me. My pistol was out of reach and I thought that my problems appeared to have bottomed out. I was done for. They couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  I was dead wrong.

  The helicopter picked this exact moment to show up a few feet above the flat roof window. The chopper’s spotlight shot down into the Walmart through the dust-ridden glass pane. The rumble of the blade rotors was muffled by the distance and the closed window, but the beam of light falling down was impossible not to notice. The crazies couldn’t help but spot it and look up at the source of the bright light. I had a good chance of getting away while the crazies were distracted.

  I leaped to my feet and burst into a run, shoving roughly one of the crazies out of my way. On snatching my 9mm up off the floor, I looked back ready to take down any crazy if one was after me. At that exact moment, the helicopter’s gunner opened up with the .50 machine gun, unleashing the heavy stream of lead. The rounds bored through the glass pane, shattering it into thousands of pieces, and poured down racking the floor and tearing into crazies, of which most were slain on impact. The heavy-caliber bullets ripped large chunks of meat out of human bodies, blood spraying through the air and gore splattering over the floor.