Immune

by Jacqueline Druga

  Driving the school bus around the crowded and narrow streets was a challenge, though once he left the confines of the Caramount School area, it was easier.

  They had pulled onto the main road when from the back of the bus, Max shouted, “Stop! Stop the bus!”

  “What? Why?” Eugene asked, looking into the rearview mirror as Max made his way forward.

  “Look.” Max pointed out the windshield where they saw Paul, attempting to start a car.

  Eugene stopped the bus and Max grabbed the handle, swinging open the door.

  “Shut this. There’s infected around.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Find out if he let them in.”

  “For what purpose?” Eugene asked.

  “So I feel more justified in killing him.”

  “Max, no. Hasn’t there been enough death?”

  “Yeah, so one more piece of shit isn’t going to matter.”

  “Max—”

  “Close this.” Max walked down the steps.

  “Max, don’t do this. Max!” Eugene banged his hand on the steering wheel, and closed the door. He glanced in the mirror. Only one or two watched out the window. Candice stared outward not paying attention to anything. When Eugene looked back out the windshield, he saw Max approaching Paul. He wished he could hear the exchange, though he could only guess what was being said.

  Paul appeared nervous and grabbed for the door. Max halted him, holding the driver’s door open. There was an exchange, then Max pulled Paul from the car.

  No, Max, let it go, Eugene thought, despite the fact that if Paul was responsible, and Eugene was certain he was, a lot of unnecessary deaths had occurred. He imagined what was going through Max’s mind. How angry and hurt Max was. So was Eugene.

  Their exchange was heated, and when Paul stepped up to Max, Max pushed him hard against the side of the car, held him by the collar, and slammed him into it several times. Then Max released him and turned.

  Eugene released the breath he was holding and then reached for the bus door. When he did, he saw Max take a step, turn, and without hesitation, pull his gun and fire a single shot at Paul.

  His back against the car, Paul slid down until he hit the ground and Max walked away.

  Mortified at the actions of his new friend, Eugene hesitated and then opened the door.

  “Let’s go,” Max said, stepping in.

  “Did he admit it?”

  Max didn’t answer.

  “What did he say?” Eugene pressed.

  Max walked by him and Eugene reached out, stopping him. “Max,” he said in a low voice, “you just killed a man in cold blood.”

  “No, Eugene, it’s a new world. I killed a man for justice. Drive.”

  Looking forward, Eugene placed the bus in gear and drove on.

  Max found his seat in the back next to Candice. She didn’t say a word, only leaned against him. He didn’t know if she saw what he did. Eugene did not approve, that was obvious by how many times he looked back at Max in the mirror.

  He didn’t need Eugene’s blessing. What he did, he felt right in doing. Max had always been a survivor. Most of his life he was on his own, and now, by way of a deathbed promise, he was responsible for someone else, a responsibility he would take seriously and uphold.

  Max wasn’t sure what was ahead for the group, whether the airport would pan out or that they’d even make it to the safe zone. Arm around Candice, he was positive of one thing—no matter what, he and Candice would make it. Good or bad, they would survive in this world. It was a guarantee. It was in his soul to not quit, to push on, to live.

  Max was a fighter and whatever it took, he’d fight for them to survive.

  Alternate Endings

  I am truly blessed to have the beta readers that I do. Dozens of people read my novels before they get published and provide vital feedback. This book, I provided them with three endings. They voted and these are the two endings they did not choose. I included them for your enjoyment.

  Alternate Ending One

  Alternate Ending Two

  Alternate One

  Eugene’s voice was froggy from being tired. He had caught an hour sleep after they spoke to Tara. She and her people already had an escape plan, and they were waiting on word from Eugene on when to head to the airport.

  It was almost time.

  There was no coffee, and he desperately needed some. He and Myron ended up staying in the east wing after they rested. There wasn’t a choice, someone needed to keep an eye out. The sun had started to rise, and they sat on the roof listening to the sounds of the infected below. There were so many of them, it sounded like an orchestra of groans and squeals.

  “Where are our soldiers?” Eugene asked. “Didn’t you say there were, like, eight?”

  “When Stanton didn’t come back, they left.”

  “Smart guys.”

  “I thought we had one left.” Myron grunted and stood. “He was supposed to be up here. Are we going to tell Paul?”

  “I hate to do it, but it’s only right.”

  “I agree.”

  “We can always knock him out if he….” Eugene walked to the edge of the roof and looked down. “Holy shit.”

  Myron rushed over. ‘It wasn’t like this twenty minutes ago.”

  “And it won’t be like this twenty minutes from now.”

  A sea of infected had converged on the school property, a few still straggled on the street, but they crammed in. The barricade had completely collapsed from the weight of all of them pushing through.

  “So much for five at a time,” Myron said. “We should move on this now.”

  “Agreed. Let’s get Paul, radio Tara that we’re leaving, and get everyone to the roof to evacuate.” Eugene climbed in the hatch and down the ladder. “Max is getting them ready now.”

  The last they had seen him, Paul was in the south hall. That was their first destination. A twenty foot walk was all. If Paul was sleeping, he had no idea what was going on. When they arrived at the south hall, the door to the science center was open.

  “Paul?” Eugene called out.

  Myron walked ahead and checked the four rooms. “He’s not here. You think he left?”

  “No. He must be in the gym. Let’s radio Tara.”

  “Wait.” Myron moved toward the stairwell.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just seeing if he left. If he did, this door…” Myron reached for the emergency exit. A blue door that led not only to another staircase, but an outside exit. Something was wrong.

  “What is it?”

  A hint of sunlight shone through the single pane of glass of that door and then… the face of an infected appeared.

  Myron backed up. “They’re in.”

  “Shit.” Eugene hurriedly turned around. “We have to warn the others.”

  Down the hall and rounding the bed, they hit the main hall, both skidding to a stop in front of the main office.

  The chorus of high pitched squeals carried to them as a mass of infected poured in through the main doors, one of which was propped open by a garbage can.

  The can toppled over and when Eugene was spotted, the infected raced his way.

  “Jesus!” Eugene said. “Someone let them in!”

  Both men spun on their heels and ran.

  “What about the others in the gym?” Myron asked.

  “The doors are closed. We have to get to the roof. We can reach them from there.”

  When they passed the south hall they were met by a horde of the infected. They reached out, grabbing for Eugene. Two of them managed to grip on to him and Eugene screamed out in pain as one chomped down on his shoulder.

  Myron quickly grabbed Eugene, pulling him from the hold. Pivoting his body, Myron pushed Eugene forward. The masses of infected were relentless. Eugene made it only a few feet, grabbed for the stairwell door, and collapsed.

  “No! No!” Myron shoved forward. He was surrounded and couldn’t move. It wa
s like pushing through a wall. They raged for Eugene, grabbing and clawing, and Myron learned something new. The infected may not have chased after Myron, but he wasn’t immune if he got in their way. His heroic attempts to save Eugene were futile. While trying to help, he got caught in the attack and was clipped by a swinging arm. The fingernails of the infected attacker clawed with such force that they seared through his belly with razor sharpness. A rough and jagged slice gutted Myron.

  Blood poured from his stomach and with every bit of fortitude he had left, Myron forged for the stairwell. After climbing only the first flight of stairs, he collapsed. He’d try to keep going even if he was on his hands and knees. He’d get to that rooftop.

  <><><><>

  After the departure of the soldiers and those who had died, out of the forty-three people left, only twenty-four remained. They stood in the gym, what few belongings they had perched with them.

  “We’ll be taking it to the roof slowly,” Max explained. “Four at a time. The scaffolding will not hold a lot of people, so, keep that in mind.” He walked over to Grace. “Keep Candice close to you.”

  “Where will you be?” she asked.

  “Down here helping people up or on the roof making sure no one jumps the ladder. It’ll be fine.”

  “Is Canada really a safe zone?”

  “That’s what they say. Eugene will fly us somewhere, that’s for sure.” Max quickly turned his head at the sound of the gym doors being pulled as if someone were trying to open them. “Are they locked?”

  Grace shrugged.

  Beret walked across the floor. “I think they are. It’s probably Myron. I’ll get it. Start getting everyone up the scaffold.” He pushed the metal bar on the door and opened it.

  The door widened and infected poured in. So many rushed through the doors, even though he was immune, Beret was trampled beneath them.

  Max didn’t have enough ammunition in his clip. He grabbed on to Grace’s arm and pulled her to the scaffolding.

  By the time they arrived there, many had already climbed on, running in a panic to get to the ladder.

  A tsunami of infected flooded the gym, making their way like a wave to the corner where the scaffolding was located.

  Grace held Candice close to her and Max blocked the way. He looked at the infected, then to those climbing the scaffold. It wasn’t going to work. No way would he get Grace there in time. His only option was to get them on the top bleacher. Making that decision, he reached for Grace and was shoved forward by someone running to get out. He stumbled, and when he regained his footing, Grace was gone.

  “Grace!”

  “Max!” Candice yelled.

  He looked back. They were on the first level of the scaffolding. It was already shaking. Twenty people weren’t a lot, but enough to topple it.

  Reaching for the scaffolding, he held it tight. He was only one man, and chances were it wouldn’t make a difference, but he would try to keep it steady.

  The scaffolding shook and swayed. Grace held onto the bar as she and Candice climbed. There were five levels. People were below her and above. The ones on the ladder weren’t moving fast enough.

  “Mommy,” Candice whimpered.

  “Keep moving, baby. Move.” Grace tried to see below. Where was Max? The infected aimed for the scaffold, hands reaching. They were safe as long as they were above them,

  Three more levels to go.

  “Grace!” Max shouted. “Keep moving! Don’t stop!”

  Grace looked down. She caught a quick glimpse of Max on the bottom steps of the scaffold. Lifting her head, she saw everything was at a standstill. Four or five people were crammed on the ladder.

  Please hurry. Climb faster. Climb faster!

  As they rounded the bend to take the next flight of stairs, the scaffolding swayed drastically, causing a blizzard of frightened screams. It steadied and Grace sighed. She inched Candice to the next set of stairs and without any warning, the side gave out. The scaffolding jolted and, screaming loudly, Candice flew backwards. At least ten people above her fell off.

  Grace quickly reached out and grabbed Candice. Holding the bar above for balance, she held her dangling daughter by the wrist.

  “I got you. Don’t move!” Grace yelled down.

  “Mommy!”

  It took all Grace had to hold her. There wasn’t a speck of floor to be seen, and the massive crowd of infected had gathered under her little feet, all reaching for Candice, their fingertips mere inches from her.

  “Help!” Grace yelled. “Someone help me!” Someone joined Grace, extending a hand down for Candice. “I’ll help.”

  “Mommy!”

  “We have you, baby!” Grace kept her eyes on Candice, assuring her daughter with a look that all would be fine.

  The stranger joined forces with Grace. They had her and then… a taller infected man reached up with ease. With sheer horror, Grace watched him grab and pull Candice from her grip.

  “No!” Grace bellowed as her child sank into the mass of infected,

  Candice screamed, high pitched and shrill, though her screams were instantly muffled by those who encompassed her.

  Max saw it all.

  The shake of the scaffolding, the breakage, and Candice falling from the edge.

  Grace had her and someone was there helping. And then… Candice dropped.

  Heart racing and a dire sickening feeling in his gut, Max climbed the side of the scaffolding, searching for Candice, listening for her screams.

  The infected swarmed like ants into one spot and Max knew why.

  Without thought, he dove into the infected. Max hit them, pulled them, he gave his all, but he wasn’t making a dent. It was an endless tunnel and he wasn’t reaching the end.

  Grace tried to get back down. In fact, she fought to get there, but someone grabbed her. Anchored her around her waist and hoisted her up.

  “I’m sorry, there’s nothing you can do. Nothing.”

  “No!” Grace screamed over and over. She couldn’t handle the pain. It was horrendous, an emotional agony like a thousand knives in her soul, what her poor child was enduring. It worsened when she no longer heard Candice cry.

  No screams.

  Only the sound of infected.

  <><><><>

  There was nothing left. Bits and pieces of flesh, some of her hair, and a single shoe. Not even a shred of clothing was recognizable. In an instant, Candice was devoured.

  It was something Max could not tell Grace. He didn’t need to; more than likely, Grace knew.

  Candice wasn’t the only casualty. Seven others fell into the throes of the infected feeding frenzy, but Max focused on Candice, his heart breaking.

  He plowed his way through them, fighting with everything he had. Driven by emotions, he reached into the crowd, trying to pull her out. At one point he had her. Her little hand reached out and Max grabbed it.

  “I got you. I got you.”

  Her fingers wrapped tight around his hand and Max pulled. He swore he felt an emotional reprieve, but it was short lived. Her grip released.

  He had never screamed before in his life, but he did in that gym. He cried out loud and in agony.

  They were overrun and he realized when he finally made it to the roof that most of the infected were inside.

  Where was Grace? He turned left and right, looking for her. That was when he saw Myron covered in blood. He tried to sit up, but he was bleeding too badly. Max ran to him. “What happened?”

  “Someone let them in,” Myron grunted, breathing heavily. “I got caught in the crossfire.”

  “Eugene?”

  Myron shook his head.

  “Fuck!” Max cringed and stood. The roof was empty. “Where is everyone? Did anyone make it out?”

  Weakly, Myron held up his hand showing three fingers. He then pointed out to the edge of the roof. Max ran over and looked down. He saw the three people running.

  It fell apart. It all fell apart.

  At the end of his emoti
onal rope, feeling defeated, he turned. He finally saw Grace, sitting against the large ventilation unit. Her legs were drawn to her chest and it was a painful walk to her.

  “Grace, I’m sorry.” He reached for her and she swatted his hand away.

  “Grace, we have to go.”

  “I can’t. They’re all dead.”

  “I’m not. You have to. We have to go.”

  “I’m not going. I’m done,” she sobbed. “I’m done.”

  “No, you’re not. Come on.” He grabbed for her arm, lifting her.

  “No!” Grace screamed. Pulling back, she swung out her arm and dove forward, grabbing the pistol from the waist of Max’s pants.

  “Grace, give me the gun.”

  “Go away.” She put the gun to her head. “Just leave. I have nothing left!”

  “Grace, listen to me, do you think Candice would want—”

  “Oh my God, what she went through! My poor baby. She screamed and screamed… and I dropped her!’

  “You didn’t drop her, Grace. They grabbed her from you. You tried.”

  “No, Max, you tried. Thank you, but I’m done.” She engaged the chamber and placed the gun to her head. “I’m sorry.” Her shoulders bounced as she cried.

  Max held out his hand. “Come on, Grace. Let’s go.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t.” She lifted the weapon, placed it under her chin, and fired.

  Max’s reaction was a bloodcurdling scream as Grace fell to the roof. It was a dream, a nightmare. It didn’t feel real. How could she do it? How could she give up?

  Max looked back and knew it was completely done. Myron lay on his side, eyes open. He had passed away.

  Max lost it. He paced in circles, crying out every ounce of his sadness and anger until he fell and folded in an emotional collapse.

  He stayed on the roof for a while, staring out, thinking, crying. He didn’t move from the spot until the sun went down. Night or day didn’t matter to him. He was immune. Max stayed there while he contemplated what to do. There was one thing he was certain of, no matter how bad things were, he couldn’t put a gun to his head. As much as he thought about it, he couldn’t.