Chapter Sixteen
Newton, North Carolina
Garrick knew. He just knew.
The SUV was packed, gasoline from the police cruiser siphoned, they were going to be on the road in a few hours. The insidious pounding at the doors, the undead trying to get in, had finally ceased and a hush of quiet took over.
Everyone slept.
Garrick didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Because he knew … he just knew.
Steve’s breathing had worsened and his entire body had swelled with the retention of fluids. He sat up, back against the wall, leaning against Garrick some as they sat together on the floor.
There wasn’t silence between them.
“I was always …” Steve struggled to speak. “Always jealous of you. You … did what you wanted. You didn’t fit the mold.”
“Yeah, well, I had to do something to get attention. You had all the brains in the family and got all the adoration.”
Steve smiled. “That’s true.”
Garrick laughed.
Steve tried. It pained him.
“For all the fighting we did, man, the good times trumped that.”
“We were the epitome of brothers.” Steve lifted his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“Anything I ever did that made you sad.”
“Me, too, me too.”
“I’m not making it through the night,” Steve said. “My blood is settling. Look at my legs. I’m half way there, you know.”
“I know.” Garrick leaned more to his brother, laying his lips on his head. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Steve inhaled heavily, releasing the breath slowly. “I need you to do it.”
“I’m waiting.” Garrick shook his head. “Because I’m not convinced you’re coming back. You got Saul’s cure. I’m not convinced. The dead virus isn’t making you like this. It was the fucking rat attack.”
“Don’t chance it. Don’t. Don’t even take a chance on letting me turn.”
“What if you’re like Juan?” Garrick asked. “It would be the Karma of it all. If you’re like Juan, I won’t do it.”
“How you gonna keep me alive.”
“Feed you chickens.” Garrick looked down. “Cats. I always hated cats. I’ll feed you cats.”
“That’s not how I want to be,” Steve said. “Juan knew. He couldn’t talk, but he knew he was trapped in a decaying body. Just do it when I leave. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Silence.
“How are you gonna do it?” Steve asked.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you can’t shoot me. You’ll scare the kids and draw back more of those things.”
“I have a screwdriver.”
Steve gasped. “You’re gonna impale me in the head with a screwdriver?”
“Dude, do you have a better idea?”
“No.”
“I'll do it compassionately.”
“Through the ear,” Steve said weakly. “That would be the …”
The weight of Steve’s head pressed harder against Garrick’s arm and then Steve slid down some. Bringing his other arm over, Garrick grabbed onto Steve and pulled him into his body, again pressing his lips to his brother’s head.
He closed his eyes.
Garrick didn’t look. He didn’t need to. He knew … he just knew.
Steve was gone.
<><><><>
Irma wasn’t sleeping like they thought. She remained quiet, listening to the final conversation between two brothers. It broke her heart as a mother, woman and sister. She nestled close to Jerry, smothering the sound of her crying.
Muting the sound of her tears was in vain, when she realized it was over. It wasn’t the silence that told her, nor the ‘clank’ of the screwdriver as it dropped on the ground. It was the sound of Garrick’s single sob that was an invisible hand, reaching into her chest and squeezing her insides.
She lifted her head and saw what was going on. Sitting on the floor, Garrick cradled Steve against his chest. Steve’s lifeless arms dangled over Garrick’s. Shoulders bouncing in sadness, Garrick buried the sound of his sobbing into his brother’s body.
There was nothing more that Irma wanted to do than to go over and comfort Garrick. Tell him she was sorry, hold him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not right then, it wasn’t the time.
However difficult it was to watch and hear, Irma knew she had to restrain, stay put and let Garrick have those final moments with Steve.
Chapter Seventeen
London, England
After a long night, Lucille had fallen asleep on top of the covers for what she could only describe as a late morning nap. Sideways, head snuggling to the pillow, she slept soundly following a night of one bad report after another. She woke up in frenzy, to a sound that rang an eerie truth to her.
The air raid sirens.
She heard them many times in her life, but there were times, during crisis where they sounded real. They sounded frightening. Hearing them blast sent her into an immediate panic.
“Mommy, what’s happening?” Her daughter burst in the room.
Before she could answer, Lucille saw her nearly vibrating from the stand.
“Yes,” Lucille answered the phone. Her eyes shifted to Tabby. “Yes. Right away. We’ll be ready.”
“Mummy?”
“We need to pack one small bag and do so now. They’ll be here soon for us,” Lucille said with urgency and walked to the window. She parted the drapes and peered out.
Hissing her immediate gasp, Lucille brought her fingers to her lips as she stared out the window. A few hours and all hell broke loose. Fires burned in the distance, cars were scattered on the street abandoned, people ran. Panic.
“Is it that bad out there?” Tabby asked.
Lucille released the drape and turned. “Just go pack. Go pack now.”
Chapter Eighteen
Newton, North Carolina
May 18th
“It’s now or never, ladies. We got an all clear outside the garage,” Garrick spoke soft, almost saddened.
Irma leaned into the back seat, laying her hand on Timmy. “I’m not buckling you in because if we need to make a quick escape, I don’t’ want to fuss with anything. I’m going to sit right back here with you, ok?”
“Ok.” He nodded.
“I’m putting Jerry on your lap. Can you hold him for one second?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yaya. You call me Yaya, and thank you.” She placed Jerry on Timmy’s laps, and braced his arms around the baby.
Lil was already in the front seat and Irma whispered, “I want to speak to Garrick.”
“Hurry,” Lil said.
Irma stepped back and looked at Garrick. “Do we really need all these supplies? The less we carry the better on gas.”
“Well, I’m planning ahead. What if we get stuck, miss a boat, or can’t get on the island. And what if we do get on an island and it is everyman for himself?”
“I understand.”
“Please get in the car. We have to leave. I’m gonna start the engine, open the door and hurry to drive.”
“I’m getting in.” Irma reached her hand to his face. “Are you all right?”
Garrick sighed heavily. “No. But I will be.” He slid her hand from his face, pausing to kiss it. “Thank you for caring.”
“How can I not? You are amazing.”
Garrick forced a smile and walked away.
Irma got in and lifted Jerry from Timmy’s lap. “I’m smiling at you Timmy. A very confidant smile.”
Timmy lifted his hand to her face and felt her lips. “Thank you.”
The engine sounded so loud when Garrick turned it over. He left the driver’s door partially opened and Irma held tight with one arm to Jerry, while embracing Timmy with the to her. She listened to the sound of the garage door opening and Garrick returned in a moment.
Shutting the door and pulling out.
The second they emerged from the garage, Irma could see the undead move their way.
“Are the windows down?” Timmy asked. “I can smell them. I smell them bad.”
Irma shifted her eyes to Garrick as he shut the vents on the car.
“That’s gonna be useful,” Garrick told Timmy. ‘That’s a talent we need. Your own radar.” He turned his head to Lil. “How is our phone power?”
“Still two bars.”
“Let’s not waste it. Send a text to Jack, say we’re on the road and we’ll call once we have a position. We’re saving power.”
Lil agreed and focused on the phone.
Garrick drove slowly; she supposed so as to not draw attention. They did anyhow. They staggered at the vehicle, arms extended as if they could catch it.
Irma looked out that window. She couldn’t help but watch. Some were closer than the others. Some looked ‘fresh’ almost alive, while others appeared to me moving on their last bit of strength. One thing was for sure, it was the first time Irma wasn’t scared of them.
She felt sorry. Staring at their faces, she realized they were once people like her, Garrick, and Lil. People with family and lives. A life of love stripped from them. After knowing the boy Juan, Irma had a hard time believing that the walking dead were soulless animated beings. Most were violent and moved on killer and hungry instinct. But those were the ones where their soul was buried deep. Reanimated like Juan knew what was happening. How cruel. How sad.
They weren’t released from the earth, they were trapped. Trapped in the shell of a decaying body, flesh dropping from the bones. Trapped in their own hell.
Driving away, for the first time ever, Irma didn’t just pray for those she knew and those who had survived. She prayed for the infected. That God would release them, would help them. Somehow … someway.
Chapter Nineteen
Cleveland, Ohio
Beep
Despite all the gunfire, screaming, sirens and crashes, that single beep of his phone jolted Jack. He had grown numb to the noise as they made it out of the city. But once on the quiet highway, the beep went though him like a knife. A usual calm and in control Jack was unnerved.
It was bad enough Jack wasn’t driving. He absolutely hated not being in control of his own life, but strapped to his chest was another life to worry about. He’d rather hold Baby Jack than take a chance of someone else being responsible.
Baby Jack was important. And they were out of the city.
“Is that them?” Saul asked from the back seat.
Jack finished reading the message. “Yeah. They’re on the road. They’re conserving power and will call with a position.” Jack lowered the phone. “Bet me they’re still heading to the coast in case we can’t get them.”
“Lance promised,” Saul said.
“Yes, well, Lance is a bad luck bandit,” Dodds stated. “Plus, we’ll be on a chopper. How far do you think they can fly? Certainly not from Cleveland to North Carolina to Virginia.”
Jack tilted his head. “It’s close. Fully fueled, it gets close to 600 nautical miles. Which is really cutting it close.”
“We still have to factor in, Lance is lying,” Dodds said. “That he has no intention whatsoever of getting your wives.”
Jack looked over his shoulder and winked. “I know the pilot. When he radioed to say he was waiting, I was glad. He’ll do what we need.”
‘Then tell him to pick up the wives and let’s head to the closest island,” Dodds suggested.
“We may not have a choice.” Jack faced forward. He couldn’t believe the mayhem that had ensued. They had received word at dawn that the infection broke boundaries in Cleveland and that one source aided it in getting out of control.
A simple radio call from the pilot stating no one was coming to get them and he couldn’t chance moving the bird, forced Jack and the others to quickly pack the car with as much cure and supplies as they could, as quickly as they could. Powers took on the driving duties. They needed to get to the airbase.
Twenty miles.
It wasn’t an easy trek.
Powers took back roads, but that didn’t stop them from running into rioting groups and hoards of reanimated. People fighting for their lives raced for the car, pounding on the windows, begging for help.
As much as it pained Jack to ignore it, he couldn’t help them. He had to get to the airbase.
While trudging through the city streets, Powers asked, “What do you suppose was the single source that caused it to get out of control.”
Jack guessed it to be infected children. He had seen them in North Carolina. They moved fast, were agile and vicious. It was hard to get a good aim on one, let alone shoot them before they were upon you like a rabid chimpanzee.
There was a sense of disbelief until a child leapt on the hood of the car, gnawing at the windshield, pounding and trying to break it.
Despite Powers trying to shuck the child, it held on for the longest time.
But that was behind them. The road was busy with cars all trying to get out, get somewhere. Traffic moved.
Jack was grateful. They were almost at the air base and a little bit closer to putting the current chapter of the infection behind him.
He needed to see Lil, be with Lil. He and the others just wanted to be away from the infection, and hopefully wait it out. It would end eventually on its own. It had to.
Chapter Twenty
Chesapeake Bay
“We have a situation.”
Lance was in his school house office when he received that little warning. A man rushed in then rushed back out. No information, just that simple line. Lance was already in the middle of a situation. Ships had filled. Islands were already reaching capacity and people were lined up for miles begging to get in. Annoyed, Lance walked outside to see what was happening.
He didn’t need to step far out in order to hear it all.
People shouted and argued. They pushed the limits of the military who held post. There were hundreds who tried to break the barricade. They arrived by personal boats, some by yachts. All of which could not stay.
“What’s going on?” he asked Don, who stood in the street.
“They are turning people away. We’re at capacity. They aren’t happy. But that’s not the situation.”
“What is it?”
“That ferry from last night. The one we stopped? Well it no longer is in the middle of the bay.” He pointed.
“We told them not to come.”
“We can’t reach them by radio, we tried.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping or even slowing down.” He started walking toward the peer only a couple blocks away.
Don walked with him. “I was thinking maybe the ferry was coming for the people we were turning away. But no response.”
“Something is wrong.” Lance watched as the ferry drew closer at full speed. “It’s gonna smash the peer.” At that point Lance started running, he moved as fast as he could the remaining blocks and grabbed the first Sergeant he saw. On the table before the Sergeant was a pair of binoculars and Lance grabbed them, lifting them. He peered to the ferry. “Oh my God,” He dropped the binoculars. “Let these people in. Pull your men back!”
The sergeant was startled. Perhaps he was confused or flustered, but when Lance didn’t receive the response he needed, he took matters into his own hands.
“Barricades down! All men back!” Lance shouted. “Let the people in.”
That alone was the first error. The people heard the shouting or orders at the same time as the soldiers, and before the road blocks could be moved, people rushed forward. There was no orderly fashion, because there was no time,
Lance barely had time to run back when the Ferry collided into the huge docking port, smashing it like toothpicks, sending splinters of wood everywhere.
The ferry cut through the people that remained, tromping and crushing like bugs.
Engines st
ill running, the ferry was unable to go any further and came to a halt. Just as it did, Lance backed up, grabbing on to Don. He knew what was next. He saw through the binoculars, even with a brief peek. A slumped over Captain in the booth and a ferry of infected.
Hundreds of infected were at the railings and the second the ship stopped, despite the Ship to ground height ratio, the determined flesh craving creatures, plowed over the railings to the people below.
While most soldiers tried to fire, Lance knew it wasn’t the time to be diligent and a hero. It was time to bail. Grabbing on to Don, he did just that.
Chapter Twenty-One
London, England
Lucille had banged on Tabby’s door, so much in an hour that her hand hurt. Her daughter refused to come out of her sanctuary.
“I’m not. I’m making a stand here. They can’t break down the door,” Tabby argued.
“Swanson is going to be here, any moment. We need …” Lucille turned her head to the doorbell. It had to be Swanson. He was due to arrive with an escort to get them from the house to safety.
Figuring she’d get Swanson to help her with Tabby, Lucille headed by the security desk, peeked quickly at the monitors, in her pass, she saw it was Swanson and raced to the door.
“Swanson,” she gasped out as she flung open the door.
It was not as she expected.
Swanson’s skin was white with streaks of blood. A huge gaping hole ripped across his neck, and blood soaked his shirt.
He opened his mouth in a gasp, growling out and lunged for Lucille.
She quickly jumped back with a scream and pushed the door. Swanson extended not only his arm, but shoulder in, reaching for her as she struggled to close the door.
Fighting of his reaching fingers, Lucille pushed with her body and cried out in gut wrenching scream of fear. Everything was spinning; she had to close that door.
She heard it. A heartfelt call out of ‘Mummy!’ and Lucille saw her daughter jump for the door. The added weight closed it, severing Swanson’s arm.
“My room, we have what we need there.” Tabby grabbed Lucille’s arm.
Zombie Battle (Book 5): Survive Page 6