Dove: A Zombie Tale (Byron: A Zombie Tale Book 2)
Page 16
Another magnanimous roar echoed through the cramped tunnel. The other rock eater drew closer with each instant we remained down here.
“Byron!” I called up, half trying to keep my voice a whisper and half not caring. “What do you see?”
No response.
“Do you think something happened to him?” Roger asked. The panic in his eyes seemed almost comical, but the quiver in his voice set my own nerves even more on edge.
“I don’t know,” I responded, trying to mask the agitation I felt at such a stupid question. Honestly, he knew about as much as I did at that moment.
No Goners came through. We all stood there staring into a dark hole hoping that it meant some small measure of salvation.
“Should we follow him? Check on him? Something?” Evan’s voice drifted toward me from the back of the group.
I craned my neck to catch his gaze. “And how do you suggest we get up there?”
He frowned and turned away. I had to admit, though that his was not a bad idea. The mechanics of it, though, required planning and time—two things we did not have in abundance.
“We have to do something,” Jake barked. “Standing around staring at the ceiling is a sure-fire way to get us all killed by that rock eating thingy. Especially when he finds out his buddy here is dead.”
“Jake’s right,” Aunt E added. “If we stand around, we are Goners. And not the kind we’ve been fighting.”
“I say we figure out some other way out of here,” Sammy said. “Standing here is just stupid.” He looked around the faces in the group. “Who’s with me?”
A chorus of agreements resonated in the cramped space. I couldn’t believe their willingness to abandon Byron like this.
“So what’s the plan, Sammy?” Jake asked.
“We go back to the prison, find a safe place to hide out, and plan our next steps from there.”
Jake gave a thin smile, his eyebrows pinched tight. “I like it. It sure as hell beats standing around here waiting on someone who could be dead by now.”
“Wait, you guys,” I called as the group of them started to move off. “We can’t just leave him here like this. Would you want us to leave you behind?”
Jake peeled away from everyone else. “Hell yes, I would. Go and survive. This is the end of the world, in case you haven’t gotten the news flash. And right now it’s sink or swim—fight or flight—die or survive.” He paused. Would I want you to go save yourselves instead of waiting for me? Absolutely, yes. And I think it’s what Byron would want us to do, too. He’s not responding to us. For all we know, he is dead or inside another one of these thing’s stomachs. The point is, we need to do something, and that something is survive.”
He turned his back to me and walked away through the crowd. Most everyone else turned to follow him. Aunt E stood staring at me, her hand extended.
“Sabrina. Are you coming?”
I gave her a hard stare, my lips squeezed tight, and shook my head.
“Are you serious? You’re going to throw your life away waiting for this guy?”
“Aunt E, I think this is the best chance we have at surviving. I have a feeling the prison is going to be a dead end.” I gave her my best dramatic expression. “Don’t go, please. Stay here.”
“Sabrina, I’m going. You need to decide whether you are coming with us or not. If you stay here, you’re alone. I think we have safety in numbers.” She reached her hand closer to me. The rest of our company peeled away, turning their backs on us. Aunt E watched them leave, and turned back to me with her request plastered on her face. “Come with us, Sabrina. Don’t do this.”
I let out a great sigh. “I’m staying. I think this is our best chance. I’m sorry.”
She paused, her face contorting with a mixture of fear and worry. “Sabrina…”
I turned away and stared back up at the ceiling as a tear rolled down my left cheek. “Sorry, Aunt E. I’m staying.”
Another roar shook the tunnel. The rock eater would be here any time.
“Come on!” Jake shouted, turning back and waving us to follow. “Let’s go.”
Aunt E turned toward Jake and dropped her arm to her side. “Sabrina…” Without another word, she ran after the others.
My cheeks felt hot as tears flowed free across them. I did my best to hold back the sobs threatening to wrack my body. I stared for a few more minutes at the place she had stood. Did I make the right choice? Should I have left, too? Is Byron coming back?
My stomach twisted into a knot. The air became dense, too dense to breathe. My heart raced. What had I done?
A deafening roar stopped my heart. I whipped my head, turning my attention down the tunnel and finding only the inky pitch of absolute blackness.
The ground beneath me moved, shifting and shaking in random, unpredictable movements. The ceiling drew closer, dropping toward me at a steady, but slow rate.
My mind swam. How could the ceiling fall so slow? No, not the ceiling—the floor. The body of the rock eating beast I stood on was rising.
A rumble rippled through the beast’s flesh beneath my feet and the body canted upward at a sharp angle. I leapt for the hole in the ceiling, only about two feet above my head now, and grabbed for anything I could hold onto. A scream filled my ears as the surface beneath my feet disappeared.
chapter sixteen
I broke through the hole into a subway tube. The bioluminescent organisms on the walls were enough to allow my Symbiots to see the space with ample clarity. The rails still held that sheen of constant friction and use, but no electricity hummed through them. If not for my enhanced vision, I would be in complete darkness.
I marveled at how close the rock eaters had been to the subway tunnel. Only a few feet of solid bedrock separated the tube below to the one above.
Scanning the length of track in either direction revealed no evidence of life. Instead, the place abounded with signs of undeath. Goners shuffled about in random fashion. Some walked along the tracks, some bumped into walls, and others occupied a nearby platform, shuffling or standing, or just sniffing the air for any tell-tale signs of their next human meal.
Moans surrounded me as I turned away from the opening in the floor and headed toward the platform.
“Can you keep them off me?” I asked my Symbiots.
We do not know. We should be able to, but not all the other colonies are responding the same way to our warning toxins. We can no longer guarantee to keep you safe from other colonies.
“Great,” I muttered.
As if to emphasize my Symbiots point, a clawed hand swiped at me with a terrible growl. I turned away from the attack and faced a snarling mockery of humanity. Flesh no longer covered its face, exposing its teeth. Bone peeked through patches of blackened, rotted muscle. Whatever hair remained on the creature hung in clumps of shriveled meat and sinew or from flaps of hanging skin.
I whipped a sword from its scabbard and severed the creature’s head from its neck, cleaving a clean path between the vertebrae. The skull fell to the ground, its teeth still gnashing, but the body remained upright. I stared in disbelief as the creature continued advancing toward me, swinging wild arcs with its arms.
“What the hell?” I grumbled, dodging away from the creature and crashing into another one who wrapped his arms around me. I broke its grasp and spun on my heels, whipping the sword through the top of its skull. Bone fragments and rotted brain struck the far wall. But even this creature reached for me again.
“Do you see this?” I asked as I trotted away from the searching corpses. They swiped with random, blind movements, but it still unsettled me that these beasts did not fall like so many of their brethren.
We do and we do not understand. The colonies are separated from each other. We tend to colonize the brain in order to gain control over the sensory and motor systems. Somehow these colonies have found a way to still control the body without the brain.
“No kidding, Captain Obvious. What the hell do I do now
?” I hopped onto the center island platform as more Goners came in my direction. Moans echoed through the tunnel and reached me from the world above as others shuffled their way into sight from the stairways leading to the street.
We need time to study this phenomenon. You need to get close to one for a while.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not getting close to one of these things except to kill it.”
That is fine. Decapitate one and let us study the neurotoxin patterns. Just stay near it.
“Uhh. You’re joking, right? You do see the group of them coming in my direction, don’t you?”
Find some way to do what we ask.
I growled, but gave my surroundings a cursory scan. Edging closer to the stairs, a realization washed over me. I could use the doors’ own gates to stave off the newcomers at the stairs. All of these stairways had them to shut down a particular entrance. Without the influx of new Goners from above, I could take care of the handful on this side.
Moving with all the speed I could muster, I grabbed the closest set of gates and slammed them shut, bending some bars to lock them in place. Slicing through a couple of nearby Goners, I trotted to the other end of the platform and did the same. Locked inside, I made quick work out of decapitating the remaining creatures, leaving a batch of wandering, headless corpses and severed animated heads.
I stared at one of the heads in complete disbelief. Its eyes rolled around like they still saw. Its tongue wriggled like a fish out of a pond. A chill ran down my spine. How could such madness be possible? Wasn’t it bad enough that these colonies, these bacteria, had invaded and infected so many people. But now they were changing and becoming something different, too? I shook my head.
We have all the information we need. The colonies within these bodies have developed independent of one another. They are all fighting for control of the creature, which is why each part is semi-autonomous. They control wherever they colonized.
“Damn. That’s what I was afraid of. Your buddies are no longer happy to live together in harmony. Now you’re all fighting for control. Which, in turn, means that we’re all in the deepest—”
A roar echoed up from the hole in the subway floor. “Dammit! I needed to find a new way out. Oh, hell!” Nobody heard my self-admonishment. But as I made my way back to the opening, a sound caught my attention. I ran to it and peered down inside.
I recognized the sound, having heard it all too many times today—a scream. Doves scream!
Dropping to the ground, I reached inside as two somethings came toward me. I reached down and grabbed them, pulling them up through the hole. Wrists. Arms. Dove’s head.
“Dove!” I cried. “Are you okay? What are you doing?”
“That thing is still alive! I cut my way out through its stomach and it’s still alive!” Her voice wavered with violence.
“What do you mean? Where are the others? Are they safe?”
She shook her head. “No. They went back to the prison.”
My heart sank. “Not good. Do you have your light?”
She pulled it from her pocket and flicked it on.
“What the—” she gasped. “What are those things?”
“Goners.”
“How can those be Goners? They’re headless and walking around.”
One of them approached us. I drew my sword and lopped its legs off in a single swift blow. The limbs kept flexing and moving as if it still walked.
“They’re changing, Dove. All of it is changing. The Symbiots are evolving and adapting to the environment. And they are not playing nice with each other. The colonies have started fighting each other for control. Even within the same body.”
“Oh damn!”
~ ~ ~
“Why did they do back to the prison?” Byron’s voice broke through the mad rush of crazy images flashing through my head. I could see the repercussions of what he told me. Goners fighting for control, unable to control their own bodies or reactions. Anything that moved could be attacked.
“They were afraid something had happened to you up here. Jake and Sammy rallied the group behind them, and they all left.”
“And what happened with that rock eater thing? I thought you had killed it.”
“I thought so, too. I mean, I gutted it with a hole large enough for us to walk through. But as the other one approached, it stood up. That’s when I jumped away for the hole in the ceiling.”
“Good thing you did. I don’t think it would have been too happy with you for cutting it open.”
“Yeah, well I’m not too happy with it. Dead things should stay dead.” I bit my tongue as the last word escaped my lips. My jaw dropped open. I didn’t know what to say. His expression turned hard and stiff. His lips became thin white lines on his face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted. “I have trouble myself remembering that I’m really dead and not the person I used to be. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Yeah, but I should be more careful about what I say.” I looked at his chin as I spoke, unable to raise my eyes to meet his.
He slipped his hand under my chin and with a gentle touch lifted my face. My eyes crept upward until they locked with his.
“Seriously, Dove. Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean it that way.” He leaned close to me, his warm breath cascading on my cheek. “Besides, I can’t stay angry with you.”
Soft as a feather, his lips pressed against mine. I pushed mine toward him, savoring the kiss. Our arms wrapped around one another as we pulled each other close. For countless minutes we stayed locked together like that. My pulse raced. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes.
We separated a fraction. I turned my face downward. “What was that for?”
“What? I can’t kiss a pretty girl?”
“I’ve been terrible to you.” My voice cracked.
“You’ve saved my life. You’re a good person. I don’t think there is anyone else I want to spend the zombie apocalypse with.”
“So what does this mean?” I asked, raising my eyes back to his.
“I don’t know what this means.” A melancholy infiltrated his voice. “But I know that I don’t want to let you from my sight anymore.” His mouth worked up and down, but no more words came out. Somehow, I understood his meaning.
“I care for you, too.” My voice trembled.
The mighty roar of tortured souls rumbled below us.
“We need to get out of here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me down along the tracks.
“Wait. Why don’t we go up to the street?” I stumbled along after him, tripping on a concrete rail tie.
“We can’t. At least not at this station. The upstairs is loaded with Goners.” He pointed at the gates blocking the stairwells. Bodies pressed against the metal, reaching for us, trying to press themselves through whatever opening they found.
My eyes grew wide. The hinges strained and the bent metal bars holding the gates shut groaned with the mounting mass of creatures pressing against them. “We can head south to the Spring Garden Station and make our way back to the prison on the surface.”
He studied my face for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m thinking that we should try to meet back up with them? What if they don’t make it to the prison?”
“We can head back in from the outside. Remember, we got pulled in from the tunnels beneath the prison?”
His face turned pale in the light and he put his hand over the flashlight’s beam. Something moved in the darkness. I could barely make out a shape in the scant remnants of the beam glowing between Byron’s fingers.
Shhhh—ing! Thwack!
“We need to move,” he whispered as we both broke into a sprint along the railroad tracks.
“I can’t see, Byron. I need the flashlight.” I felt it slip from my hands and heard it click off. Byron’s hands grabbed my arms and the floor disappeared from my feet. He slid me onto his back, wrapping my arms arou
nd his neck.
“Hold on tight,” he whispered. “I can see fine enough for both of us.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around the experience. Absolute darkness surrounded me and yet the feeling of motion—of inertia—made my stomach lurch. Stale air crashed into my face, making my eyes water. I closed them and tightened my grip on Byron. What struck me most as odd was that despite the tremendous speed at which we traveled, I could not hear a single one of Byron’s footfalls on the ground.
He stopped and then my stomach dropped as Byron leaped into the air. Metal crashed and shrieked. Something snapped. We moved upward and then stopped again. More screams of tortured metal filled my ears. And then we were moving again.
Pink hues filtered through my closed eyes and I opened them a little at a time. My body shifted from Byron’s back and my feet touched the concrete sidewalk. We stood next to a large, open parking lot. Murals graced the buildings around us—one depicted several sets of eyes with a slogan. Another depicted a group of women in various styles of period clothing. Ten story buildings greeted us across the intersection.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“We’re at the northwest corner of Spring Garden and Broad,” I replied, recognizing the location.
“Which way to the prison?” urgency filled his voice.
I pointed west along Spring Garden. “That way, then we turn north at North 21st.”
He grabbed my hand and almost yanked me off my feet. “Come on. We don’t have any time to waste. If that other rock eater is alive, then they’re in serious trouble. Hard enough fighting one of those things, let alone two.” He gave me a wink as I caught up to his hurried pace. “Let’s go save your aunt, again.”
~ ~ ~
We heard the occasional moans resounding from the commercial and apartment buildings abutting Spring Garden, but saw no Goners as we ran. I turned toward Dove after five or so blocks. She grabbed her right side, baring her teeth.
“You okay?” I couldn’t help the worry in my voice. We slowed to a stop.