Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7]

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  Reginald took a bold step toward Hector. “If you don’t agree, you and your family can leave. The food stays here.”

  Sandy’s eyes roamed between Reginald, Simon, Billy, and Tom. She wanted to step in, but she feared her intrusion might escalate the situation.

  “So you’re going to starve us?” Hector repeated.

  Reginald’s face reddened under the glow of the lanterns. It looked like he was sweating. “You haven’t been out there recently,” he shouted. “You don’t know what it’s like!”

  “I know exactly what it’s like,” Hector tried, motioning to his family. “We survived and got here from New Mexico. Remember?”

  “But you haven’t done shit since. All you’ve done is keep guard. You haven’t even gone on any supply runs. You don’t deserve the food and water I found in that station wagon.” Reginald cracked his neck. His eyes were wild and nervous; it was obvious the new world had cracked his already-violent mind. Or maybe something else was going on. His body was shaking.

  Hector held up his hands. “With the rest of the food contaminated, we’ll have nothing to eat. You’re threatening us with infection, probably death.”

  Reginald reached for his gun. “Come any closer, and I’ll do worse than that.”

  Fear crossed Hector’s face. Reginald stared at him with the expression of a man past his threats.

  Before anything could happen, Sandy stepped in and held up her hands. “Stop! We don’t need to argue like this.”

  Reginald broke his combative stare and turned to face her. She kept stoic, even though she wanted nothing more than to disappear, or run from the room.

  “There’s no need to argue,” she continued. “The only reason we’re alive is because we’ve worked together. We need to cooperate.”

  Reginald blew an explosive breath. “You changed that by bringing Dan and Quinn here. This is your fault! You could’ve gotten all of us killed!”

  “I didn’t mean any harm by it. I was trying to help them, like they helped me in town.”

  Reginald’s eyes narrowed as he took a step toward her. It seemed like he’d already forgotten about Hector and had focused his rage on her.

  “Reginald, please, leave her alone,” Hector said.

  Sandy held up her hands to defend herself. Before she could finish her sentence, a car engine started outside. Everyone’s attention turned to the windows, where headlights illuminated the pane. Tires crunched furiously as a car shot by, spitting up gravel, kicking up dust.

  “What the hell?” Reginald shouted.

  Dan and Quinn! Sandy thought.

  2

  Reginald, Simon, Tom, and Billy drew their guns and raced for the door, opening it in time to see a car battering through the gate.

  “Goddamit!” Reginald screamed in rage.

  The armed men raced into the parking lot. Gunshots split the air. The people left in the warehouse looked around frantically. Reginald’s men had the only guns. It was an unlucky coincidence. Or a planned one, Sandy thought. She looked over at Hector, who had a knife tucked in his belt. She had one, also, from freeing Dan and Quinn. The others had small blades. Anabel buried her face in Marcia’s shirt. Finn held up his hands, as if he might stop a bullet.

  “We need to get out of here!” Sandy told them.

  Hector nodded, fear in his eyes. Before they could determine a plan, Reginald raced back in the room. Simon was right behind him.

  “Don’t let them out of your sight! I don’t trust them!” Reginald yelled.

  Simon waved his pistol, eliciting gasps of fear from the people in the room. And then Reginald ran back outside. A few more bullets sounded from outside; moments later, a second car shot past the warehouse. Clouds of dust blew through the open doorway, creating a murky blackness.

  And then both vehicles were gone and the warehouse was silent.

  Sandy watched Simon. Her hope was that he wouldn’t figure out what she’d done until she could figure out a way to get these people to safety.

  She sized up Simon. He was in good shape—his arms were toned and tanned underneath his white muscle shirt. One of his arms had a full sleeve of tattoos. She’d gone on several supply runs with him, discussing lost family and sharing hopes of rescue, but those conversations seemed to have been forgotten in Reginald’s spreading paranoia.

  “Hand over your weapons!” Simon demanded.

  Sandy watched him for a second, defiance flickering in her eyes before she reluctantly dug into her jeans. She pulled out her knife, dropping it in the dirt.

  “The rest of you, too!” Simon ordered, waving his gun.

  Hector relinquished his knife. The others dropped their small blades in the dirt and held up empty hands. Simon bent down and retrieved the weapons, then patted them down. When he was satisfied they were unarmed, he stepped back, trading his attention between them and the doorway. There was no sign of Reginald and his men, no sign of Dan and Quinn. The roar of car engines had segued to the sound of night insects.

  Simon walked to the doorway, peered out into the night, and said, “The gate’s open. Shit.” He took a few steps into the parking lot, torn between guarding the people he’d been told to watch and shutting it. Finally, he seemed to make a decision. “Come with me.”

  He waved his pistol, herding the people in the warehouse in front of him. Sandy walked single-file with her scared companions as they entered the parking lot. The smell of burned tires was a stinging reminder that Dan and Quinn had escaped, while Sandy and the others were left behind.

  “If you don’t trust us, why not let us leave, like Reginald said?” Hector asked Simon.

  “Be quiet.” Simon’s face grew hard. “We don’t know how many creatures we might’ve stirred up with all the noise.”

  He flicked on a flashlight, illuminating the dusty parking lot and instructing them to hurry. Sandy swallowed and covered her mouth as she walked over the gravel, trying not to choke on dust, following the thin beam of Simon’s flashlight. Between the dust and the darkness, she could barely see; every shadow resembled a creature, hissing and waiting to pounce.

  The front gates were broken open where Dan had crashed through them. Simon swiveled his flashlight until he found the lock and chains in the gravel. Then he shone the beam on Sandy and the others, waving them over to the fence.

  “We can help you,” Sandy started. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Keep quiet, I said.”

  Simon scooped up the chains and lock and dug for the keys to the lock, keeping a wary eye on them. Sandy had the frantic thought that they should run through the gates, but they were more likely to get shot than get away. She looked over at Hector, who was holding Marcia and Anabel close. Finn watched her with a hopeless expression.

  While Simon was busy with the gate, Marcia hissed at Sandy, “I saw you slipping out before. What were you doing?”

  A feeling of panic washed over Sandy. She didn’t think anyone had noticed. Taking a chance, she admitted, “I cut Dan and Quinn loose.”

  “My God,” Hector said, mouth agape.

  “Reginald will kill you!” Marcia whispered.

  Sandy looked over at Simon, who was still securing the gates. “He’ll kill all of us, if we don’t get out of here. You heard his threats. You’ve seen what he’s done. Something’s wrong with him. We need to leave. If we don’t, we’ll die.”

  The others looked around nervously. Before they could concoct a plan, Simon swung the gates closed and locked them in. Sandy watched the entrance with the sinking feeling that none of them would ever see the other side of it again.

  3

  Sandy looked over her shoulder, praying she wouldn’t see headlights past the fence. Reginald would be back soon, with or without Dan and Quinn. And when he returned, their chances at escape would be slim
.

  She needed to figure something out. Fast.

  With no choice but to walk quietly ahead of Simon, Sandy and the others entered the warehouse, surveying the shelves full of lumber and supplies. In the time Sandy had been staying here, she’d gotten used to the smell of wood and the odor of grease and equipment. Those scents were familiar enough to feel a little like home. But not anymore. Now the lumberyard was a place from which they needed to escape.

  Simon closed the door and stationed himself in front of it, pointing his pistol at them. He instructed them to stand ten feet away. Mind brimming with desperate thoughts, Sandy attempted to rationalize with him.

  “This is about food,” Sandy guessed.

  Simon remained quiet.

  “You’re afraid Reginald will starve you, just like he threatened to do to Hector and his family,” Sandy said.

  Simon looked away.

  “Reginald killed Charlie. What makes you think he won’t kill the rest of us?”

  “Charlie’s death was an accident,” Simon argued, but without Reginald around, he didn’t sound as convinced.

  “He’s persuaded every one of that. But it’s not true. I was there.”

  Simon chewed his lip. “So was I. Reginald’s been fair with me,” he said. “He’s the one who found the lumberyard. He’s the one who’s kept us safe this long.”

  “But he’s turned against Hector and his family, and now he’s turned against me. He’ll do the same to you, as soon as you do something he doesn’t like.”

  “I’ll take that up with him when the time comes.”

  Realizing that her words weren’t having an effect, Sandy struggled to think of another argument. Anabel cried, holding Marcia tightly, peering out from the folds of her mother’s shirt.

  “Listen, Simon,” Hector tried again, taking a slow step toward him. “There’s no reason to hold us here. Let us leave, like Reginald said. We won’t come back.”

  “Quiet,” Simon warned.

  “There will be fewer mouths to feed without us,” Hector pleaded. “You’ll have a better chance at survival if we’re not here.”

  Simon pointed his pistol directly at Hector’s chest. “I’m not doing a thing until Reginald’s back.”

  “What if he dies? What if he doesn’t come back?” Sandy asked.

  Simon turned toward her. A curious expression crossed his face, and Sandy took a guess as to what that might mean. “You know where the supplies are.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You do,” Sandy said again. “I can tell by your expression.”

  Simon pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything.

  “This might be the chance we need to escape, Simon. If we take those supplies and leave, we might be able to find help. There has to be someone else out there—the military, the National Guard. We’ve talked about it on our supply runs. I know you’ve lost your sister. I lost my brother. We’ve all been through enough, Simon. We deserve to live.”

  “I don’t believe anyone’s out there anymore.” Simon’s face grew sad as he said the words. “The only thing I know for sure is what’s here. And that’s why I’m staying.”

  “For how long? Until Reginald decides he doesn’t want to feed you anymore?”

  Simon bit his lip as he grew angry. “He won’t starve me,” he said, but his eyes harbored doubts.

  “He might, if he has to decide between feeding you and feeding himself. Reginald stole Dan’s station wagon and left me to die while we were in St. Matthews. He has no allegiance to anyone. He’s a convict, Simon.”

  “We’ve all done things,” Simon said, waving his hand dismissively.

  Sandy noticed Simon’s eyes looked darker than she remembered. She realized she didn’t know him well. He’d told her that he was a construction worker from Tucson, and that he’d escaped the creatures and made his way to St. Matthews after losing his sister. Regardless of what he might be hiding, the immediate threat was that she’d see headlights coming back toward the lumberyard. If Reginald returned, their hopes would be crushed.

  “The food is just a temporary fix,” she argued. “We’ll need more of it. Whatever we have here won’t last more than a few weeks.”

  “How will we find more?” Simon asked, the gun wavering in his hands.

  Sensing she was getting through to him, Sandy persisted, “We can take the food and water, and we can look for help. We’ll have a better chance at surviving together than staying with Reginald.”

  Simon opened and closed his mouth as he thought of an answer. Instead of replying, he looked over his shoulder, as if Reginald might be listening and waiting to accuse him.

  “You can blame me if something happens,” Hector said, stepping forward. “I have nothing left to lose.”

  Simon looked from one of them to the other. His eyes lingered on Anabel, who shielded her face while staying next to her mother. Finally, he lowered his gun and pointed at the shelves of lumber on the far side of the warehouse.

  “I saw where Reginald hid the supplies. If we’re going to take them, we better hurry.”

  4

  “Reginald didn’t think I saw where he put them, but I did,” Simon explained as he hurried to a far corner of the warehouse. He threw a panicked look over his shoulder, as if Reginald might come charging through the door. He stopped and motioned toward a shelf about ten feet off the ground, holding up a lantern, illuminating stacks of wood.

  “We should probably guard the door,” he said.

  “Finn, will you watch for Reginald’s car?” Sandy called. “Let us know if you see headlights.”

  “Will do.”

  Finn ran across the warehouse and toward the entrance. He cracked the door and peered through. Simon moved a stepladder with wheels to the shelf.

  “I’ll climb,” Sandy suggested. “I’m smaller, so I can move faster.”

  Simon nodded reluctantly, holding his gun at waist-level. “Okay.”

  He watched Sandy climb to the top of the ladder. She put her leg onto the shelf, straining, and pulled herself up and onto a stack of wood. The wood shifted as two boards clanked together, sending an echo through the warehouse.

  “Crap,” she swore.

  “All the way back, you’ll see several garbage bags,” Simon called up.

  Sandy scooted forward, using her hands to guide her. The shadowy light of the lantern barely lit the shelf on which she was crawling. For a moment, she envisioned creatures emerging from the wall and dragging her into the recesses of the warehouse, consuming her. Hot sweat poured down her face as she crawled across the boards. And then her hands were on the bags, and she was scooting back to the edge of the shelf and passing one down.

  “Here you go!” she said to Simon.

  He climbed up to meet her. They repeated the process several more times, until four bags of food sat on the warehouse floor.

  “Last one,” Sandy said, scooting in and retrieving another.

  She paused before handing it down. A sting of guilt hit her. By taking all the supplies, she’d effectively be condemning Reginald, Billy, and Tom to death if the theory that they were immune wasn’t true. But wasn’t that the same fate with which Reginald threatened all of them?

  Sucking in a breath, she passed the bag down to Simon.

  A scream ripped their attention across the warehouse. Finn stumbled back through the doorway, flailing his arms. One of the creatures was latched onto him. He fell to the ground as the creature tore away a mouthful of his neck, hissing and groaning. Panic and confusion hit Sandy as she tried to figure out what was happening.

  “Finn!” she screamed, scooting from her perch on the shelf.

  Hector, Marcia, Anabel, and Simon were already racing for him. Sandy rushed down the ladder. Finn’s screams of agony pierced t
hrough the warehouse. His hands flailed wildly at his sides as he tried to get out from underneath the thing that was pinning him down. Sandy ran across the warehouse, feeling powerless and too far away. Hector and Marcia reached Finn first, tugging at the creature’s arms, but the creature was latched onto Finn, its long, dark hair swinging back and forth over its face as it attacked. Sandy couldn’t even tell if it was male or female.

  “Stay back!” Simon shouted, reaching the scene and aiming his pistol. He shot the creature in the head, sending it sprawling face first on top of Finn. The others reached in and pulled it off.

  But it was too late.

  Finn spat mouthfuls of blood and grabbed his neck.

  “Jesus!” Sandy screamed as she took his side.

  Finn groped blindly, as if someone, or something, might help him.

  Another hiss drew their attention to the doorway. A creature ran at them from the parking lot. Hector slammed the door, but not in time. The hungry, writhing thing wedged itself in the frame, fighting and scratching. Sandy joined Hector, jumping to her feet and ramming the door with her shoulder, hoping to knock the thing back into the parking lot. The creature shrieked rabidly. Suddenly, it snaked an arm around the door and grabbed hold of Hector.

  “Hector!” Sandy shrieked.

  She tried to pry it off, but the creature had a firm grip.

  An enraged yell sounded from behind them. Sandy turned. Simon rushed at the creature with Hector’s knife. He stabbed the creature in the arm. All at once the creature recoiled, giving them enough room to slam the door closed. Hector bolted the door with a click.