With a determined sniff, she wiped the tears from her eyes and drove to her next destination, a gun shop. That turned out to be another disappointment but for a different reason. It was a small place tucked away between other larger buildings, but whoever had owned it, had fortified the shop until it resembled a fort.
Iron bars covered the windows and front door, all set in impenetrable brick walls. In the alley behind the shop was another entrance, also barred with a sheet of solid steel. Thick curtains or blinds covered any openings, and it exuded a sense of watchfulness that she found hard to define. It felt like there were eyes on her the entire time. Maybe there is. Maybe someone is riding out the apocalypse in there.
As Amy circled, a red light flickered across her face. She brought the car to a stop, searching for the source of that tiny sliver of light. It was elusive, and she thought she’d lost it until her eyes fell on the rearview mirror. In the center of her forehead was a red dot.
Perfect.
Round.
Unwavering.
In an instant, Amy realized what she was looking at and jammed her foot on the gas. As she raced away, the first shot clipped the car. The bullet punched through the metal with a terrific bang, and she almost jumped through the roof with fright. The second shot whined away into the night —a clear miss. By then, she was out of range, but her heart galloped in her chest like a spooked mustang. “Holy shit, what was that?”
With one trembling hand pressed to her chest, she put as much distance between herself and the shooter as possible. Whoever it was, they could go to hell as far as she was concerned. “People today are nuts. Freaking nuts!”
A few more yells and expletives calmed her down enough to think, and she decided to give it one more try. After a quick look at the map, she chose a place that sold outdoor gear and camping supplies. It was called Cabela’s and was just around the corner. Well, here goes nothing.
When she arrived, Amy stopped at a distance to study the area with her main lights switched on. This time, she wanted to know what she was getting into. To her surprise, the parking lot was empty. Or, almost empty.
A couple of cars were parked next to an overturned truck. The truck was a big one carrying a load of some kind. It looked like the driver had lost control, swerved off the road into the open space, and tipped over. It crushed one of the cars in the process and blocked off one end of the lot.
The rest of the parking space was empty except for a few abandoned carts, evidence of people’s haste to get away. At least, there were no bodies. No zombies either unless they were hiding, which wasn’t in their nature.
The memory of the infected back at the Walmart hit her hard, and Amy shuddered. That one had stalked her like prey. It was hands-down the most terrifying encounter she’d ever had with a zombie, and she prayed she’d never have another. The chances of that were low, however. The reality was that every day was a battle for survival. Every day could be your last.
With extreme caution, she pointed the nose of her car at the store and crept forward. When she reached the front entrance, she stopped. Her headlights lit up the shop, and she took in every detail.
The wooden building was large, with several peaked roofs soaring above the ground. Two entrances flanked a bank of windows in the middle, smashed to pieces by looters. A cluster of mannequins sagged across the windowsill of a display, a plastic family on the way to a great adventure.
To her great amusement, some idiot had tagged the walls with blue spray paint. It read, “The End is here.”
Amy snorted. “No shit, Sherlock.”
On autopilot, she fished a can of coke and a chocolate bar from her pockets. They were the only items that survived her fight with the zombie. Tearing open the wrapper, she took a bite of the candy bar. The zing of sugar flooded her taste buds, and she groaned with pleasure. “Man, that’s good.”
A swig of the coke placed the cherry on top. Due to the low temperatures, the liquid was cold. Much better than the lukewarm stuff you had to force down in summer. The bubbles burned the back of her throat, and for a moment, she could almost imagine she was a kid again.
Once she’d finished her snack, Amy felt more energized. It was the first food she’d had all day. She switched her attention back to the store and peered into the interior. Besides the smashed windows and overturned carts, there was a wealth of stuff just lying around. She was worried about lurking zombies and bad guys but reckoned the lights would have lured them out by now.
After gnawing on her bottom lip for a few seconds, Amy made a decision. “I’m going in. This looks like my best shot compared to the other places.”
After switching off the car, she took a final look around to make sure the coast was clear. Satisfied, she got out and ran toward the front entrance of the store. At the risk of running the battery dry, she’d left the headlights on. With no flashlight to show her the way ahead, she had little choice. At least, I can see where I’m going.
In her head, she recited the items she needed the most. Everything else was a luxury. The quicker she was in and out, the better. While the car’s headlights were a necessary evil, they could also draw in potential baddies or infected. Maybe even Red.
That thought scared the living daylights out of her, and she wanted to move as fast as possible. However, her socked feet weren’t meant for the maze of shattered glass and debris that faced her. She was forced to pick her way through with care until she was over the threshold.
There, she paused for a few seconds to get her bearings. The shop was huge, its extended interior dark and threatening. The smallest sound echoed through its halls, and the taint of rot hung thick in the air. Strangely, it smelled like rotten fish.
Wrinkling her nose, Amy decided to stick to the front. She was not about to brave the darkness empty-handed and dressed in pajamas. Not a chance, nuh-uh, no way, forget it.
Instead, she headed for the mannequins and picked through the fake family until she found what she was looking for —a teen girl roughly the same size as her. The tags revealed that the staff had chosen each item with care. The clothes were expensive and made for durability, quality, and the roughest of weather. Perfect.
Amy set about stripping the doll. First, she pulled off the backpack. To her delight, the pack carried a water canteen, a bedroll, and a flashlight attached to the canvas with a cord. She gave the torch a try, but no luck. It needed batteries.
Once she had the pack unzipped, she stuffed in the rest of the mannequins’ clothes with lightning speed: Gloves, hat, scarf, jacket, pants, belt, jersey, shirt, and socks. The boots she put on immediately. The last thing she needed was to cut her feet on a piece of glass. Plus, they’d help her run and fight, if need be.
With the backpack slung onto one shoulder, she sped about looking for the other things she needed. A till close to the front provided a host of small items. After checking that nothing lurked around the counter, she quickly helped herself to a couple of energy drinks, water, protein bars, an extra flashlight, and batteries. A nearby rack had the underwear she needed, including extra socks, and a set of thermal wear.
With her pack filled almost to the brim, Amy worked her way back to the car. She wasn’t happy with her selection, though. The things she needed the most besides proper clothes were still lacking. She ran down the list in order of importance: A gun with extra ammunition, a secondary weapon like a knife, a jerry can for additional fuel, a box of matches or a lighter, a first-aid kit, and a few blankets.
That, coupled with what she’d scavenged already, would get her back to Fort Detrick if she took the car. Assuming something didn’t happen along the way, she’d reach her home within a day or two at the most. She could sleep in the back, and survive on energy drinks and stuff.
However, if she lost the car for whatever reason, she’d need a whole lot more to get her back to the base: A tent, cooking gear, real food, a water filter, and fire starters, at the very least. The question was, did she dare brave the interior of the shop
, or did she make do with what she had?
In the end, she realized she didn’t have a choice. She was almost sure that Red was after her. King could not allow her to make it back to Fort Detrick. If she did, his base of operations would be compromised.
With Red on her tail, she needed a weapon. It was the one thing she could not do without. As sure as spring followed winter, he’d find her. He was that kind of man. Ruthless, determined, and obstinate. And when he found her, he’d kill her. Unless I kill him first.
With her mind made up, Amy took the spare flashlight and popped in the batteries. With a flick of the switch, the beam shone sharp and bright. She walked back toward the shop and picked her way over the threshold. Once inside, she found a working cart and made her way to the hunting and fishing section.
It was dark inside the store. Dark and ominous. Everywhere she looked, she imagined crouching monsters. Fear coursed through her veins, and more than once, she considered abandoning the search. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to keep going.
At last, she reached her destination: The hunting sector. To her dismay, the racks were bare, stripped of all the guns. “No, no, no. It can’t be.”
Abandoning the cart, she searched every nook and cranny, even crawling around on her hands and knees. As she was about to give up, a glint of metal beneath one of the counters caught her eye. She pulled out the item and nearly cried with relief.
It was a Remington pump-action shotgun, model 870. Her kind of weapon. She turned it around in her hands, admiring the finish. The synthetic stock felt smooth in her hands, and it carried a six-round magazine. Much better than the standard three rounds she was used to. Now all I need is ammunition.
A second hunt around the area revealed a drawer filled with ammo, and she pulled out a box of shells. Without wasting a second, she loaded the weapon and practiced holding it and aiming. It felt comfortable in her hands and gave her a much-needed sense of security.
With the most important item on her list full-filled, she broadened the search. Further in, she found a small ax she could wield with ease, hand and feet warmers, a first-aid kit, a utility knife, a raincoat, and a space blanket.
Amy wheeled her cart down the next aisle with a smile on her face. The dark interior of the store still creeped her out, but the gun and flashlight helped a lot. Plus, she was getting used to being scared all the time.
The rotten fish smell turned out to be a giant aquarium filled with dead fish and stagnant water. It was an awful sight, but it wasn’t zombies. She’d take dead fish over infected any day.
It was with a sense of confidence that she entered the camping section. She was on the lookout for a small tent when something crashed to the ground. Her heart jumped into her throat as she tried to pinpoint the noise. It was hard to tell in the gloomy echoing store.
Minutes passed while Amy stood silent in one spot, every sense on high alert. Her stomach churned, and her palms grew sweaty around the stock of the gun. Finally, she decided to go back to the car. It was better to be safe than sorry. She had enough supplies to tide her over.
With the shotgun gripped tightly in her right hand, she pushed the cart with the left. The rickety wheels rolled over the dusty floor, and to Amy’s ears, it seemed far too loud. She was sure the entire town could hear her.
Her mouth grew drier with every step she took, and her knees began to shake. Her head swiveled on her neck until she resembled an owl. By the time she reached the entrance, she was ready to faint. Come on. You’re almost there. Keep going.
Maneuvering the loaded cart through the strewn debris and broken glass took a lot of finesse. Every snap and crackle of broken glass caused her heart to buck wildly in her chest. At last, she reached the car and opened the door.
As she loaded her loot onto the back seat, Amy kept a wary eye on the store. There was something in there; she was sure of it. She didn’t know what. Either way, she wasn’t hanging around to find out.
With her stuff loaded, she jumped behind the wheel and shut the door with a sigh of relief. One shaky finger engaged the central locking before she was able to breathe again. The shotgun lay across her lap, ready for action. Then her gaze locked onto a pair of glowing eyes right ahead of her. They stared at the car from within the store, too high up to be caught in the headlights. “What the —”
Amy had no words for the terror that coursed through her veins at the sight of those golden orbs glowing in the dark. They blinked lazily, almost as if the owner were taunting her. Before she could make a move, they jumped away and disappeared back into the darkness. Whatever it had been, it was gone.
It took several moments before Amy could gather her wits enough to drive. When her overwrought brain calmed down enough to think, she realized the eyes must have belonged to an animal of some kind. A cat or a raccoon, maybe. Humans and zombies weren’t the only creatures that needed to eat. We’re all hunters now. Or prey.
Chapter 18 - Tara
After ten minutes of driving, the van drew to a stop. Tara stirred in her nest of blankets and lifted her head. As she’d suspected, they’d arrived at their destination —the Biomedical Research Lab at George Mason University. A lofty sign announced the location, but someone had spray-painted Zombie Town all over it.
Two guards wearing army uniforms and automatic rifles saluted King from their stations at the entrance. One opened and closed the gate for them, while the other did a quick inspection of the van. He passed them through, and Perez drove up to the lab’s main entrance.
Tara sat upright and peered through the windows, curious about her new home. She noticed a lot of activity along the way. Groups of men strung rolls of barbed wire along the fence while others walked around with wheelbarrows and spades. Even more were at work building guard towers, mounting guns, and clearing vegetation. Several vehicles of army issue dotted the grounds, and she wondered where King got it all from. He must’ve raided a base or army depot.
At the main entrance, they stopped again, and Perez got out. He opened the back door and beckoned to her. “Come on. The lieutenant is waiting.”
Tara stared at him for a brief moment, but resistance was useless, and she obeyed with reluctance. After grabbing both her and Amy’s bags, she climbed out of the vehicle.
Outside, King waited for her with a look of deep displeasure on his face. “Bannock, fetch me a cane.”
“A cane, Sir?” Bannock asked. “Where would I find a cane?”
King sighed. “There’s one in the main office, you idiot. Stuck in a basket along with a bunch of umbrellas.”
“Crutches would be better,” Tara said with a smooth expression.
“What?” King asked, not happy with her interference.
“Well, I don’t know much about knee injuries, but that looks pretty bad,” Tara said, eyeing King’s swollen knee.
He scowled. “No thanks to you.”
“Oh, no thanks is necessary. It was entirely my pleasure,” she replied with a wide grin.
“You know, Dr. Lee. One day, that mouth of yours will get you killed,” King said.
“Perhaps, but until then, don’t expect me to mince words around you,” Tara replied. “You did kidnap me, after all.”
King shrugged. “It’s your funeral, madam. Bannock, fetch a pair of crutches from the infirmary.”
“Yes, Sir,” Bannock grumbled before setting off.
“West, show Perez around and introduce him to the others. From now on, he’s my new second-in-command.”
“Yes, Sir.” Perez and West disappeared into their new home while Tara and King lounged against the side of the van.
After a time, Bannock came huffing and puffing back with a set of gleaming new crutches. His face looked like an overripe tomato, and sweat dripped from his chin.
“Good God, Bannock. You really are unfit,” Tara exclaimed. “Maybe you should lose a few pounds? It is the apocalypse, after all.”
“Shut up, will you?” he said, struggling to regain his breath.<
br />
She shrugged. “I’m just trying to help. You know what they say. The fat ones get eaten first.”
He shot her an ugly look. “Fuck off, Lee.”
Tara laughed. “It’s Dr. Lee. I worked for my degree, unlike you.”
“Now, now, children,” King said with an admonishing look. “No more fighting. You’ll be working side by side from this day onward.”
“Over my dead body,” Tara said with a snort.
King fixed her with a cold look. “Carry on, and that might be arranged.”
Tara folded her arms across her chest. “Whatever.”
“Though I do agree with your assessment of Dr. Bannock,” King added, fixing the squirming academic to the spot with a baleful glare.
Once Bannock had sweated enough, King accepted the crutches. After a few preliminary steps, he nodded. “Good enough. Follow me, Dr. Lee. It’s time to show you to your new quarters.”
“Whoopee,” Tara grumbled under her breath. “What about Bannock?”
King halted. “Dr. Bannock. Please drive the van to the back of the kitchen and unload the supplies.”
Bannock gaped at King. “Unload the supplies? But I’m a scientist. Not a servant.”
King’s expression grew cold and stiff. “You are whatever I say you are. Got that?”
“Ye…yes, Lieutenant King.”
King smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s a good boy. Besides, you could use the exercise.”
Tara smirked at Bannock as she walked past him, but it was a small victory in the grand scheme of things. In the end, she was still a prisoner.
King led the way up the steps and through the main entrance. A barricade of iron bars had been built in a v-shape around the doors for added security, plus they were guarded. She didn’t like the way the so-called soldiers watched her every move with lustful eyes. Despite their uniforms, nothing about them screamed army. They were just henchmen in fancy dress, which confirmed her suspicion that they’d raided an army depot.
Rise of the Undead (Book 4): Apocalypse Z Page 11