The Beginning of the End (Book2): Road to Damnation

by Kidd, Sean

  Luther felt a tug on his arm and followed as Sidara switched gears into soldier mode. Sage and Jen joined them as Sidara led them around the corner of the building. They held fast as Sidara scoped out the main entrance. She looked back at the group and gave them a series of simple hand instructions while she mouthed, “Stay tight to the building. Once we go through the main doors, Jen, you take the right, Luther, you take the left, I’ll take straight ahead, and Sage, you watch our backs.”

  Three steps into the move Luther tugged at Sidara’s MOLLE vest. She held her position, and turned back to Luther, “What?”

  “How can I take the left without a gun?” he asked.

  Sidara pulled the .44 Magnum from the back of her belt, “Here take this and I want it back when we’re finished here.”

  Luther spun the black cylinder confirming the weapon was loaded. He nodded, and they were on the move again. The group slowly crept toward the main door with their orders in hand.

  Sidara imagined they would all execute their jobs with the precision of a Navy Seal Team. Anyone watching would have seen something quite different, possibly a combination of Monty Python and The Three Stooges acting out a war scene. As ugly as it was, it was their way, and so far they’d been lucky.

  They had made it inside the grocery store with no resistance. The power was off here too, again leaving the lingering aroma of festering heifer.

  “Holy shit. It stinks in here.” Luther complained.

  “Breath through your mouth,” Sidara suggested, “this place is full of rotten food. Luther, you come with me. Sage and Jen, you guys, hit the pharmacy. The signs say it’s in the back. We’re going to find Two-guns’ phone cord.”

  Jen and Sage disappeared heading for the back of the store.

  “Come on Luther, it looks like there is an electronic section over there.”

  Luther followed but wasn’t happy. He didn’t know how he got stuck with Sidara. She was bossy and thought she knew everything. The last thing he needed in this world was a woman who was always telling him what to do and thinking she was always right.

  Sidara slowed as she approached the aisle end cap. She peeked around and up the aisle, “I was right. All the phone accessories are up here.”

  “It figures,” Luther mumbled under his breath.

  They searched through rows of chargers until they found one that was compatible with Ty’s phone. Luther saw it and yanked it off the display peg, “Here it is,” he said handing it to Sidara.

  She ripped the plastic packaging open and examined the cord, “Close, that fits the phone, but we need one with a car charger adapter.”

  “How about this?” Luther smiled, holding up a universal adapter, “You just stick your cord into this part, then plug it into the car lighter.”

  Sidara slid the end of the cord into the adapter. It was a perfect fit.

  “Luther, I could kiss you right now.”

  He felt his face flush before the sound of gunfire in the back of the store interrupted them.

  “Jen and Sage!” Sidara screamed as she took off running toward the sound. Luther reacted even faster, yanking the Magnum from his belt while simultaneously cocking the hammer.

  His long thin legs gave him a beanpole appearance, but the advantage of speed. He turned into the next aisle seconds ahead of Sidara. More shots rang out, this time from Luther’s .44 Magnum.

  There was no mistaking the hollow sound of the hand cannon.

  The store employees must have taken shelter in the back of the store and fallen ill there.

  They staggered and moaned, still wearing the store’s red smocks. The dead were in search of the next meal. The rotting employee’s had the girls cornered by the beer cooler. The women were firing their weapons at the group of flesh eaters. Sage was clutching an orange pharmacy bag that looked like it was filled full of meds while attempting to shoot her rifle one handed.

  Luther knew she had found the antibiotics Chevy needed and was protecting them with her life.

  Jen spun the barrel of her rifle around and dropped the store Manager. Black blood sprayed the wall behind him.

  Dispatching the Manager gave them the few precious seconds, they needed to get clear of the horde.

  “This way!” Luther shouted, as he capped off a few more rounds and led the women through the back emergency exit.

  Outside of the building was clear of threats. They looked back as the mass of dead filtered out behind them. Luther yanked the AR-15 from Jen’s hands and told her to run.

  “Head for the Humvee,” he ordered.

  Sidara slowed to a jog and turned back screaming for Luther to run. She covered her head when she saw him dumping AR rounds into the store’s thousand-gallon propane tank.

  “No!” she screamed as the concussion of the exploding tank knocked her off her feet. She lay there, head pounding, and the wind knocked out of her. The smell of burnt hair was trapped in her nostrils. When she tried to move, a lightning shot of pain ran from her ears to the middle of her back. She reached for her ears to protect them from the sound. With her ears covered, she realized the high-pitched ringing was coming from inside her head, and her hands weren’t helping a bit. Not doing any good, she pulled them away and they were covered with blood. She felt herself slip into unconsciousness.

  Sidara had no idea how long she’d been out when something startled her out of a dream state. She opened her eyes and found three men standing over her. They were all on fire. Their blackened skin dripped searing fat onto her chest. As they neared, she could see their swirling blue corneas through the flames. She felt the burning heat of their fiery bodies and lifted a hand to stop them. She tried to scream for help, but it was too late. She fell unconscious again.

  Chapter 24

  Fifteen minutes earlier Chevy and I were following Thurman into the old imitation train tunnel. The weeds and saplings were so overgrown it made the entrance invisible. If we didn’t know it was there, we would have walked right by it.

  My brain kept telling me not to go into this tunnel for many reasons. The biggest was if Thurman decided he wanted us dead so he could steal all of our supplies, this place would give him the perfect opportunity to kill Chevy and me. It had to be pitch black in there and for all we knew, he could have spent hours hiding out in there learning every turn and secret passageway. Let’s not forget the possibility that a hundred zombies could be in there hanging out waiting for lunch. As it turns out, I wasn’t the only person with these concerns.

  It didn’t take long for Chevy to give us his opinion when he saw how dark it was inside.

  “I’m not going into that fucking tunnel,” Chevy ranted, “how the hell do you know what’s in there? And how do I know, you don’t want to get us in there so you can shoot us in the back?”

  And there it was.

  Our plan of hanging back and keeping an eye on Thurman just turned into a full-fledged confrontation, and it looked like I was going to be playing referee.

  “What are you talking about, Chevy?” Thurman said with a surprised look on his face.

  “I’ll tell you. You’re just like the guy that tried to kill us this morning. A fucking psycho, and I’ve had my fill of psychos for the day.”

  Thurman stood there with his mouth wide open and had no idea what Chevy was talking about.

  “Why would I hurt any of you?”

  Chevy continued to goad Thurman, looking for the opportunity to start a physical altercation, “Because you’re as crazy as your brother. I saw what you did to that little girl today. You smashed her face in, with the butt of your rifle. I understand she was dead, or a zombie, or whatever the hell we’re calling them now, but what kind of sadistic person does that?”

  Thurman stepped forward into Chevy bumping chests, “What did you call my brother?” he engaged.

  I thought to myself, “Oh, shit,” Chevy was looking for a fight.

  “You heard what I called him you fu…”

  I stepped in between them. I had to
do something, and it was now or never.

  “Whoa, whoa.” I interrupted.

  It’s not that I didn’t agree with Chevy, but even in this screwed up world, Thurman had the right to explain himself before Chevy kicked his ass.

  “You guys both need to take a step back from each other so we can work this out. Chevy, you calm down and let me talk. Thurman, you take a step back and listen to me.”

  It took me by surprise when they both did what I asked them.

  “First of all, what the hell is wrong with you two guys? We’re here to get a car. We have no idea what’s going on with Luther and the girls, so if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get this fixed as fast as possible. Thurman, I don’t know what was going on with the little girl, but it was screwed up. To the point, it’s had us all on edge since we saw it. Since then we’ve been trying to figure out a way to ditch you and Herman. I mean the whole thing was pretty crazy; to kill a little girl like that, but then to make things worse, you dropped a round in the teddy bear’s skull. Dude, what the hell?”

  Looking at Thurman, I could tell all the fight had gone out of him. I watched as a single tear formed on the edge of Thurman’s eye.

  He let out a long sigh and began to tell his story, “I’m sorry I lied to you both.”

  “What was the lie?” Chevy asked.

  “About my mom. Those things didn’t kill her… I did.”

  “What? You killed your mom? You fricken psycho!” Chevy badgered.

  “Chevy stop. Let him talk,” I pleaded

  “Believe me, I didn’t want to, and I’m not a psycho. I didn’t have a choice.

  It was eight days ago. Mom had already stopped going to work because everyone was getting sick. Herman, Mom and I were all sound asleep one night when we heard glass breaking. I ran downstairs to the kitchen, where I found my mom talking with the little girl next door. She was asking her what had happened and if she was okay. I remember at some point during the conversation, my mom asked what was wrong with her eyes. That’s when the little girl bit her right on the face next to her lips. Then she ran out the same broken glass door she came in through. My mom was pissed that she broke the door and bit her. So, she chased the girl into the yard. Mom came back mad and full of mud. She picked up the phone to call the girl's parents. When they didn’t pick up the phone, she was in an even fouler mood. She washed out the bite in the kitchen sink and asked me to look at it. I didn’t think it looked that bad. It barely broke the skin.

  Mom wouldn’t let it go, she kept stewing over it and said she was going talk to the girl’s parents in the morning, when the sun came up. I asked if she was going back to bed for a while and she said she was too upset. We talked while she made herself a cup of coffee. I was too hopped up to fall back asleep, so we sat up for the next few hours talking about Herman and the pandemic the news was reporting.

  After a little while, Mom said she didn’t feel well, and decided to go to bed after all. I still wasn't tired and stayed up watching a scary movie. Well, I guess I was tired and must have fallen asleep in the chair because I woke up again. This time to the sound of breaking glass. I ran back down to the kitchen and, that’s when I saw her. My mom had changed. When she saw me, she attacked. Black ooze and puss leaked from the bite mark on her face. The wound looked bad compared to the way it had an hour earlier. I couldn’t believe it was the same bite. She groaned and bit at my face. I tried to hold her off, but she was too strong. She had me on the kitchen floor and kept biting at me. When I fell to the ground, I knocked a cupboard door open with my head. I reached inside and pulled out the first thing I felt, a soup pot. I hit her on the side of the head, and nothing happened. She kept biting at me. The only thing I could do was hit her a second time, this time, harder. I walloped her hard enough to feel the vibration run through the pot handle, down my fingers, and over my wrist. It was enough to knock her out. I worked my way up onto my knees and tried to help her. She opened her eyes and started biting at me again. She was so strong I couldn't control her. I had to get away and jumped to my feet. She was fast, not like those slow moving zombies. She was right on my heels. She grabbed me before I got out of the kitchen and pinned me against the counter. I reached for something to hit her again. My hand searched the dish rack and emerged with a butter knife. Without even thinking, I swung my arm and buried the knife into her temple. Mom collapsed to the floor. I was in shock. What had I done? I didn’t mean to kill her. It just happened.

  All the commotion woke Herman up, and I heard him walking down the stairs. I was afraid he was heading for the kitchen. The last thing I wanted was for him to see mom dead. I thought it’d be a lot easier for him to understand if I told him that she had left for work early and then never came home, rather than explain I killed her. I dragged her lifeless body down the stairs into the basement as fast as I could. I stood her body up in the utility closet down there and locked her body inside. When I came upstairs, Herman knew something was wrong. He was hiding behind that damn Batman mask, looking for mom. It’s his way of hiding from reality. He asked me where she was, and I lied to him. I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. I said, she had left for work and would be home late. I’ve been living a lie ever since. Later that night, when she didn’t come home, I told him we’d start searching the neighborhood for her. We spent the next week walking around Port Kent looking in cars, houses and killing zombies. We must have killed over a hundred. The whole time, I was secretly searching for that little girl, I admit it. I did want to kill her, and I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make it horrible because she destroyed our family. She killed my mother. The only person Herman and I had left in this fucked up world. So if I came across as being a little psycho, it’s because maybe I was.

  I had a lot of hate built up inside; I had to kill my mother because of that girl. I’m sorry I had to do that in front of you two, I needed closure. Even if you can’t understand it, please try to forgive me.”

  After hearing Thurman’s story, I can tell you without a doubt, I felt like a complete asshole. It was clear by the look on Chevy’s face, he felt the same way as me.

  Thurman had tears flowing from both eyes now. I gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and said, “I’m sorry we judged you without knowing the whole story. Don’t worry. We’re not going to ditch you or Herman. Consider yourselves a permanent part of our group.”

  I stepped aside and gave Chevy the opportunity to apologize. At first, he stood there, staring at Thurman, not saying a thing. So it shocked me when he leaned in and wrapped both of his arms around Thurman.

  “I’m sorry, Thurman. I guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you.”

  “Thank you, Chevy. I appreciate it," Thurman said wiping tears away.

  “There’s one more thing, Thurman. I’m sorry about calling Herman crazy. I didn’t mean it; I was just trying to upset you. I don’t think that at all. As a matter of fact, I love the big guy. He makes me laugh. So if we’re going to get to these cars, you better lead the way through the tunnel. And if we run into any shit in there, I’ve got your back.”

  It was a nice gesture, Chevy telling Luther we’d have his back, but us trusting Thurman didn’t prevent a shit load of zombies from hiding out in there. I guess as a show of good faith, I didn’t have a choice. I was about to go for a stroll through this dark, damp, and hopefully, not zombie infested cave.

  I flipped on the M4’s Tac light and raised the rifle to my shoulder, “Right behind you, Thurman.”

  We stepped over the saplings and inside the tunnel. The temperature dropped twenty degrees after the first few feet. There was no smell of rotting meat in here, but rather a combination of popcorn and grease. An almost pleasant smell that brought me back to my childhood. I reminisced in the thoughts of summer trips to the park, and days filled with roller coasters and fair games. The walk took longer than I expected. It was almost twenty minutes later when a pinhole of light announced the exit in the distance. As we got closer, the air warmed and the glo
ssy stone-colored paint shimmered in the afternoon sun. We emerged squinting, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the sun. When they did, I saw Thurman’s warehouse in the distance. It was enormous.

  “That’s the building with all the cars?” I asked.

  Thurman was ahead of me and turned back to smile, “I told you it was huge, didn’t I?”

  “You did, but I never imagined it was that big.”

  When we got to the door of the building, I was excited like a little schoolboy. All those dream cars I had imagined owning, but only viewed among glossy pages of magazines. Peeking through the window at the sports cars, I witnessed the things dreams are made of. Hard sharp lined bodies with racecar engines. There were so many cars in there it didn’t seem real. This collection was like Leno’s on steroids.

  “Let me see.” Chevy said, pushing me out of the way.

  “Holy shit. Look at all the cars in there.”

  Thurman stood back, arms crossed, and tapping his foot, “I told you. Didn’t I?”

  “You sure did, buddy,” I agreed.

  Chevy tried the locked garage door, “If I had my truck right now, I’d throw a chain on this door and yank it right off the hinges. Since I don’t have my truck, how the hell are we going to get in?”

  “I have a key,” Thurman said.

  “You have a what?” we both said in perfect harmony.

  “You heard me. I told you, I have a key.”

  Chevy stepped away and presented the garage door with two open hands, like one of those game show hostesses, “The door is yours, my friend.”

  Thurman stepped forward, “Thank you, kind sir,” and smashed the glass with the butt of his rifle. He reached in through the window and pushed the automatic door opener, “Apres Vous, Messieurs.”

  “Nice key,” I said as I walked through the open door, with Chevy at my side.

  Thurman followed us into the warehouse.

  “I want to take the Lamborghini for a spin,” Chevy begged.

  “We’re here to get the Hummer.” I said.