“Will you walk me to the door? Just in case.” Felecia’s tone has changed drastically since leaving the bus. This Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act is getting old.
“Do you still want me to go in with you?” Caylee asks as sweetly as possible. At first I think she’s being sarcastic but she’s not, she’s just being her adorable self. Felecia hasn’t given her any reason to be this nice but it doesn’t stop her.
“I don’t need you to hold my hand or anything. Can we just make sure there’s not a herd of zombie chicks in there? You know how girls go to the bathroom in packs.”
We all smile at her joke. Something feels different. I’ve only seen her let her guard down around me. Now someone else is getting to see the Felecia I’ve come to know over the course of the day that feels more like an eternity.
I open the door, my grip so tight around the bat it might leave a bruise. Empty. They’d be coming after us by now anyway.
“You’re good,” I say, looking back at the two most amazing, beautiful women in the world. And the way they’re looking at me. Oh man am I in trouble.
Felecia steps behind one of the waiter’s stations like she’s lost but grabs something and walks toward me, a sly smile on her face. She presses her hand against my chest while walking by and I have to admit, her touch makes my heart race. She drops whatever she’s holding against me and I instinctively reach out to catch it.
“Enjoy.” She grins over her shoulder and disappears into the bathroom. “And go over there, no listening.”
It’s a lighter. Caylee’s clearly confused but I get it, she’s giving us our date. She just brought us to the fanciest restaurant around for a candlelit dinner.
A smile spreads across Caylee’s face when she realizes what’s going on. “Wait, did she just…?”
“I believe she did,” I laugh. “Shall we find some good-looking meals and hope for a microwave?”
“We shall.” She giggles while we grab a couple plates of half eaten breakfast and head to the kitchen, our primitive weapons never leaving our sides. “She’s so mean though, why would she do this for us?”
“She cares a lot more than she likes to admit.” But I’m more confused than ever, I was getting the impression she was jealous. “Can you believe the awful service here?” I ask playfully, putting our plates in an industrial sized microwave. “I mean come on, who’s ever heard of a restaurant making you warm up your own food?”
“I know, right? And that waiter, who the hell did he think he was? I swear, you order something other than human and they look at you like you have two heads.”
“Well we certainly won’t be leaving him a tip. No one talks to my girl that way.”
She leans in for a side hug before kissing me sweetly on the cheek. “That’s for calling me your girl. Don’t worry, I’m not opposed to kissing or anything, it’s just, well we’d end up making out the whole time and that food is smelling incredible,” she says, pointing at the microwave right before it beeps.
Plates in hand, we head to our table with the flickering candle. I’m not sure what I would have done for our first date but all things considered, this is perfect. I pull out her chair but notice bloodstains on the seat and switch it out with a new one from the table beside us. She smiles like it’s an everyday occurrence. It worries me that we’re adapting so quickly. Something like that should spoil our appetites or put a damper on the evening. It’s forgotten a second later.
“So,” she starts before taking her first bite, “I feel like I need to apologize. I questioned you earlier, about holding off and not going to the evacuation center until they’re operational or whatever. But the more I thought about it, the more right I realize you are. Did that come out backwards? I feel like that was a Yoda type sentence. I just, I want you to know that you’re right. I let my emotions get the best of me but the more we drive around, the more I see. Most of them don’t respect your decision but I need you to know that I do.”
“Thank you. You don’t know what that means to me. Believe me, I want to go right now too, it’d be so much easier to let someone else do the fighting. Soon enough we’ll be with our families in protected bunkers or something, where it’s not kill or be killed.”
“Do you think your family made it?”
“No,” I say with a sorrowful shake of my head. “Mom was at the hospital this morning, I think that’s where it kinda started. My dad probably got all cocky and tried to shoot them in the head which, well, doesn’t do a damn thing. My little brother and sister, they live with him down in Sacramento, I don’t know, they would have been in school, we know what that was like. What about you, you think your family made it?”
“At first I told myself they had to. But the more I think about it, I don’t think they want to be alive anymore anyway.” She must see the confused look on my face because she continues. “My little brother died a couple years ago. He was the favorite. I don’t think they’ll ever get over losing him. I became their little princess after that. The favorite by default.”
“I’m so sorry Caylee. You have to know, you are so much more than anyone’s replacement.” The sincerity in my voice brings her eyes to mine and in that moment, I understand her. She took her little brother’s place. The guilt from something she had no control over eats away at her like a dark secret.
“Sometimes I wonder who I’d be if he was still alive.”
“Well, you probably would have rebelled. You’d definitely have my name tattooed somewhere on your butt cheek.”
“Oh you think so, do you?” she laughs, clearly grateful I was able to lighten the mood. “What makes you think it’d be on my bum and not somewhere everyone can see?”
“That’s easy, because everywhere else would already be tattooed. Plus the neon ink would clash with the hot pink tongue and nipple rings so it’s better down there, artistically speaking.”
“Wow, so I’m kind of a freak apparently. Now am I getting your name because you took my virginity?”
“Well, yeah,” I say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“At least Rebel Caylee still makes good choices then, except maybe the nipple piercings, ouch,” she laughs, holding her chest. “Hey, can I ask you something? It might be kind of personal.”
“Yes, I have one and it’s called a Prince Albert.”
“Eww, oh my god, no,” she laughs, spitting croissant crumbs in the air. “You do not. No, you and Felecia.”
Oh no. She knows. How does she know?
“Were you guys ever, a thing? Like, what’s the story there? It just feels like there’s tension and history. I’m not mad or jealous or anything, it’s just, you know, I’m a girl so I can see these kinds of things and the way she looks at you. It seems like she made some big mistake and you broke up with her and she’s regretted it ever since. I can’t say I blame her. I didn’t think guys like you existed.”
“Ahem.” The sound of Felecia clearing her throat from a few tables over interrupts our moment. She taps a finger on her imaginary watch. “Sorry. It’s time.”
The enigma that is Felecia Harmon smiles at me, then Caylee. It’s forced. I’ve seen her real smile before, I know. Shit. She heard us, didn’t she? She heard us talking. Does she look at me like that? Like she regrets breaking my heart?
“Thank you Felecia,” Caylee says sweetly. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“What?” she asks, playing dumb, “go to the bathroom? Because yes, I most certainly did. Sorry it took so long. Come on, we should get back before they leave us behind.”
The bus is still there, idling out front, no sign of any unwanted visitors. I half expected them to convince Marty to drive off without us. Now that would be awkward, me alone for all of eternity with my apparent girlfriend and the girl I can’t stop thinking about. I know a few ways we could pass the time. Oh come on. No, Noah. No. What the hell is wrong with you? Caylee’s a virgin, she probably wouldn’t appreciate her first time being a threesome. On the other hand, if the worl
d is coming to an end. Stop it. Just get on the damn bus you idiot.
CHAPTER 27
“Son of a crack whore,” Marty yells, slowing to a stop in the middle of the street. “We got company.”
I spot at least four of them wandering around the gas pumps. Two aren’t moving, they’re just standing there, staring at their hands. The other two appear to be looking in our direction but we must be far enough away that they can’t smell us. I think the diesel exhaust might help in masking our scent.
“What now?” I ask, wearily. This was our last shot, the other gas stations were too close to the city, they were swarming with hungry corpses.
“We’re out of options.” Marty puts the bus in park and uses both hands to redo his ponytail. “We need some kind of plan. This is the last station with diesel before we leave town. Who knows how far into the sticks we gotta go before finding some peace and quiet. This is our only option.”
“We are not doing this.” Ms. Higgins jumps from her seat, shaking her head vehemently. “I told you from the get-go this was a bad idea. No one is stepping foot off this bus. I will not allow it.”
“Well someone’s sure as hell gonna have to. This thing don’t run off tears and period blood. We need fuel.”
“But we don’t need it now. It’s not imperative. Especially not at night. We’re not doing it.”
“Like hell we aren’t.”
“You’re going to get us all killed!”
“Honey, it ain’t me that’s killin’ ya. What do you think happens when the tank hits empty? We stop movin’. We stop movin’, you can kiss your evacuation center goodbye. In fact, you can kiss your ass goodbye because them bastards out there will be waiting for you the second you step out the door. We got a hundred twenty miles ’til this baby’s empty and I get that sounds like a lot but when we’re driving around all damn day and headin’ fifteen miles outta town just to hopefully get some shuteye for the night, those miles go quick. And the last thing you want is to be running around when your life’s on the line trying to find a gas station that actually has diesel. We’re here, we need it, we’re taking it. Noah, grab your bat. You,” he says, pointing at Felecia, “golf club. What else do we have? I need six out there, at least. We take out the four of ’em right off the bat. I need two at the pump, two on guard and two inside ransacking the place. That means three volunteers and if no one mans the fuck up I’m picking people randomly.”
“Dude, you’re the fucking bus driver.” The way Mohawk says bus driver, you’d assume it were some new super STD he can’t get rid of. “No one gives–”
“And we just found our first volunteer.”
“First volunteer my ass, I ain’t goin’ out there.”
“Oh you’re going. You can either go out there fighting like the man your father failed to raise, or I can tie you up and throw you out there as a decoy. Your choice. Either way works perfectly fine for me.”
“You’re fucking crazy dude.” And I think Neil just accidentally volunteered as well. “We don’t even have anything to protect ourselves with.”
“Neither did I. Half of you are here because I got you out of that school.” I don’t mention the fact that I thought I was dying at the time. “Marty stopped to let you on this bus. We need gas, there’s no way around it. In order to save our lives, we have to risk our lives. Believe me, I know, I’ve been doing it all fucking day. It sucks, everything about this sucks. But it’s gotta be done so let’s just go do it.”
“I went along with your bullshit plan last time Britton. At the house. Those dead things smelled us from down the street so you know these ones will too. We barely made it. Let’s just go to the evac center.”
“There is no evac center,” I yell, surprising even myself. “What don’t you get? There’s nothing there, nothing! It’s not some military base with barbed wire fences and guard towers. It’s gonna be tents. It’s gonna be buses. They’re gonna load us on and get the fuck outta there as fast as they can. In three days! Not tonight. Not tomorrow afternoon. Three days. If everyone goes and gathers there right now it’s going to be one huge mass of humanity whose smell is going to attract every dead person in the state. Do you want to fight off a whole horde of these things or the four of them standing over there?”
“Let’s go,” Tyrone says, standing proudly. “We wanna get outta this mess, we gotta do this first.”
“Alright then, thank you, finally someone who isn’t chicken shit. Here’s the plan,” Marty tightens the elastic around his hair as tight as it’ll possibly go before continuing. “Felecia, you’re with me, I need you to be my eyes and ears while I fill this bitch up.”
“Got it.” She rests her bent and bloody golf club over her shoulder, Marty’s in good hands.
“You two,” he says pointing at me and Tyrone, “take care of the stiffs. I know you only got the one weapon but I need her with me. It’s gonna take a few minutes. If you can’t kill ’em, that’s fine, just keep them away from us as best you can. She’s handy with her club, she’ll be fine. You two,” he says nodding towards Neil and Mohawk, which I’m assuming isn’t actually his name but we haven’t been properly introduced, “get in that building and hit the switch for the pumps. See if you can find anything that might work as a weapon. Grab food, medicine, anything else that might be useful and run it back to the bus, as many trips as you can. We got a lot of space, let’s fill it up. And the rest of you, you’re not off the hook. When these guys bring stuff back, meet them at the door and load it in. Keep your eyes peeled, it’s dark but we got streetlights for a few hundred yards. You see a swarm of them coming, you beep that horn long and hard. If you need to close the door, pull this lever right here. You guys ready?”
“Oh you are so lucky my dad’s not here,” Neil whispers under his breath. “He’d put an end to this circus so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
“I wonder if he’d spank you for being a whiny ass bitch,” Marty barks back. “Alright, let’s rock and roll.”
The door opens. I’m the first to step off the bus. The moisture in the air envelops me like a thick comforter on a summer night. I wish it were colder. I can feel myself sweating already, the kind of perspiration that comes from fear. Fear because all four of them look in our direction and I’m armed with nothing but a baseball bat.
They know we’ve arrived.
The closest one breaks into a sprint straight for us. I like the ones in the old zombie movies more, the ones that shuffled around looking for brains to eat. These fuckers are fast, maybe faster than they were when they were alive.
I run towards him, knowing I have to time this just right. My hands slide a little lower on the bat. I’ve never been too good at baseball but my target’s quite a bit bigger this time. It’s like kickball with a bat, it’s hard to miss a kickball. I’m going too fast, slow it down Noah. If we crash at this speed, neither of us will be getting up any time soon. Not true, he won’t care, he’ll get up again in no time. I will not. Change of plans.
At the last second, I hold the bat straight out in front of me and veer slightly to the left. It connects with his face like we’re jousting. The impact sends a shockwave through my arm. It hurts like hell but it worked. He flips over backwards and lands on his head with what I hope is a giant hole in his face where his mouth should be. With any luck it will make it extremely hard for him to bite anyone. If I survive the night, my arm is going to be killing me in the morning. I think my wrist is already starting to swell up.
“Curb stomp,” I shout over my shoulder at Tyrone. “Get rid of his jaw.”
The two that were staring at their hands like serial killers who can’t believe what they’ve done are on the move. I go after the other one. Her sights were set on Marty and Felecia but she changes course when she realizes I’m closer. She’s a little on the heavier side and doesn’t move nearly as fast as the first one. No jousting this time around, my arm wouldn’t withstand the blow. I doubt I can even hold the bat in that hand. It’s not b
roken, I can move it, but it sure does hurt like hell.
I jump at the last second and swing with everything I have, which admittedly isn’t much. The impact isn’t enough to take her down. It is however enough to make my wrist throb. She staggers to the side and stumbles but doesn’t even hit the ground. Me, on the other hand… I land hard and roll once or twice but don’t have time to collect myself. She’s coming after me before I’m back to my feet.
With my brain still rattling around in my head, I take a knee like I’m protesting the anthem. I pull back and swing the second she’s within reach. It connects.
Blood and teeth explode from her mouth. I wonder what zombies with dentures do for food. The force from the blow spins her around and she lands in sitting position, stunned, yet impervious to pain.
I raise the bat above my head and bring it down across her skull like I’m chopping wood. It gives me a headache just thinking about it but she barely bats an eye. I might as well have struck her with a god damn pool noodle. This is not how I pictured it going down. She could at least pretend to be hurt. Come on, help me look good in front of my friends.
I swing again, aiming a little lower. The sound of her skull crunching means my aim was spot on. I cringe at the feel of her bones splintering beneath my bat. Her jaw is broken, dangling there, completely disconnected from the rest of her face, hanging on by nothing but flesh. Her upper row of teeth have pushed through her cheek, leaving skin stretched awkwardly over them. The whole lower half of her face is contorted in the most gruesome of ways but it doesn’t stop her. She throws herself at me.
We hit the ground with enough force to knock the air from my lungs but I manage to keep the bat between us, fighting to hold her off. Strings of bloody saliva filled with tooth fragments dangle from her deformed gums. She’s got nothing to bite me with but it doesn’t stop her from striking like a snake over and over again, trying to sink her non-existent teeth into my neck. Her tongue wiggles like she can taste me, inching closer, salivating at the scent of her next meal.
Blood Type Infected (Book 1): No Future For Man Page 16