Blood Type Infected (Book 1): No Future For Man

by Marchon, Matthew

  “Noah, I’m sorry,” he says quietly, coming to terms with what’s about to happen. “But you’re coming with me.”

  I turn at the sound of his ominous words just in time to see a soda can flying at me. It hits my wrist. The bad one. I don’t know how he did it with only one functioning eye but he did. Without telling it to, my hand releases the mop. I try to grab it before it hits the floor but I’m not fast enough. With nothing holding them back, they lunge forward.

  I fall to the ground in an attempt to dodge them. The one in the skimpy outfit that almost got Neil dives after me. He throws himself over the counter to hide. The little prick must have seen her coming. He set me up. If I fight her off, the others will pounce on me.

  I roll out of the way. She slams face first into the floor but isn’t fazed the least bit by the impact. She’s on her knees a second later. I spring to my feet and swing at the back of her head like this is some fucked up game of human tee-ball. It knocks her over just in time to act as a speed bump and trip up the first two that made it over the fallen aisle obstacle course.

  All I can do is make a run for it. I turn but one of them grabs my heel from behind. Shit. It’s too late to stop myself. I’m going down. The floor breaks my fall in the most unforgiving of manners. The pain is too much for my sprained wrist and the bat goes rolling out of reach.

  I half crawl, half run towards the door but they’re right behind, grabbing at my feet with every step. I can’t get away from them. They’re too close. The bat crashes into Mohawk or Ornburg or whatever the fuck Neil called him. He’s still laying there, not moving. I’m not sure if he’s even alive.

  I’m almost there. I just need to lose them so I can get out the door.

  One of their hands wraps around my ankle. All the way around it. I go crashing to the floor before I even make it to a fully vertical position. They must have recently waxed it because I slide a good six feet, not stopping until I crash into Mohawk’s lifeless body. He’s still breathing. I can see it now that I’m close enough.

  I grab the bat and roll onto my back so I can see what’s coming towards me. The slutty zombie’s in the lead, despite having her skull crushed in. We already know that doesn’t come close to stopping them. I don’t know why I even tried.

  She leaps forward in a jumping trip kind of move usually reserved for running into the ocean. She’s coming in too quickly for me to move. All I can do is hold the bat upright with both hands and hope it’s enough to stop her.

  She crashes down on it, chest first. I was hoping it’d be enough to impale her but not even close. It cracks the bones in her chest but doesn’t actually pierce the flesh. She tumbles to the side, landing face first on Mohawk’s chest.

  She’s inches from me. Her body is physically touching me. There’s nothing I can do. She’s too close. I can’t get the bat between us in time. She opens her mouth wide and lunges.

  CHAPTER 30

  Her teeth sink into Mohawk’s neck. She thrashes her head around, digging in before ripping a chunk of flesh from his body. Blood squirts into the air. She drops the slab of neck meat and goes for the crimson geyser like it’s a water fountain in a desert.

  The next one in line throws himself beside her and digs in. I take the opportunity to scramble to my feet and throw myself into the front door. It meets resistance when it slams against the two who are waiting outside but I manage to squeeze through.

  Fuck me. Two has turned into twenty and there are more coming. I was too busy trying to get out of there to see what I was getting myself into. They’re swarming the bus. There’s too many of them.

  What the hell is she still doing out here? Felecia’s fighting them off.

  “Noah!” she screams as the bus begins to inch forward. “Noah, hurry! We gotta go!”

  A hundred hungry eyes follow me. All I can do is make a run for it, swinging at anything that gets in my path. Marty begins picking up speed. We’ve done this before, back at the school. Only, she was on my back last time. Where I could protect her. I can’t protect her from a few hundred feet away.

  She jumps on before Marty gets going too fast and stands on the steps, motioning for me to hurry. I’m trying but it’s like a game of touch football and I’m the one with the ball, and they want to tag me with their teeth.

  I duck and weave between bodies, thankful most of them are watching the bus and not me. One of them is running towards it, faster than the others. One hand covering his– oh you’ve got to be shitting me. It’s fucking Neil. How the fuck did he get out? He must have snuck through the backroom and ran around the side of the building. He’s closer than I am. He’s gonna get there first. I can’t let him back on that bus.

  “Stop him!” I scream, hoping she can hear me over the sound of the engine. “Don’t let him on!”

  She looks back and forth between us, hopefully registering what I said and putting the pieces together. If they hear from him what happened to Mohawk, I’ll be facing mutiny. He’s a Buckley, he has a way of poisoning minds. The only person that does it better than him is his old man. He learned from the best. And if given the opportunity, he will beat the best. I can’t let that happen.

  I push myself harder, slipping between the masses of undead warriors before they even know I’m here. Marty’s going faster now, he’s losing them. He’s also losing me. I can’t go much longer. The throbbing in my wrist is intensified by every pounding step. My back is sore from where Mohawk’s soda can hit me. My body hurts like hell. Today has been like playing football with no gear. On a tile floor. Surrounded by starving alligators. With rabies. Can alligators get rabies? Can humans come back from the dead? Every inch of me is in pain. I have to keep going.

  The herd is thinning out. There aren’t nearly as many of them anymore, we’re leaving them in the dust. Neil’s already out of the danger zone. With nothing left to dodge he can move like the wind. They could slow down for him to jump on now, but they’re not. Is Marty swerving? He is, he’s swerving the bus to prevent Neil from climbing on board.

  His hand grabs the railing but Felecia swiftly smacks it with her golf club. I can tell they’re yelling back and forth but can’t make out their words. There’s people behind her, I’m not quite sure who but they’re trying to stop her. I can see them attempting to pry her away from the door. She swings the golf club, forcing them back before focusing her attention on Neil once again.

  I’m gaining on them. But two of them are gaining on me. I can hear their footsteps drawing closer. They have to be runners. They have to be. Or, had to be, in their past lives. They’re not even breathing heavily, no heavier than their normal panting and slobbering.

  His hand touches my shoulder. I can feel him reaching out for me. Shit. He’s got my shirt. I know it. I can feel it bunching up in his grip. He’s got me. But I’m so close. I’m literally right beside the bus, neck and neck with Neil. I can’t get past him, he’s blocking the doorway.

  The terrified look on Felecia’s face means it’s as bad as I think it is, this fucker’s got a hold of me. She keeps looking behind the bus frantically. I know what that means. They’re gaining on us. I feel like I’m running so fast I could fly away at any second but my body’s starting to shut down. You can only go for so long. And I’ve been going all day. We’re getting slower, they’re getting faster.

  It’s either Neil or me and right now it’s all Neil. Felecia swings at him every time he gets close enough but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s between me and the bus. He’s closer. And I’m running out of steam. I’m out of practice. Neil does this every day, I haven’t trained since last year. Since his father forced me off the track. My spot on the team, or my mom’s job. Coming from anyone else it’d be an empty threat they couldn’t possibly come through on, Mr. Buckley is a different story. I’m not sure how powerful men get the power they possess but they never seem to do anything good with it.

  I can’t let Neil get back on that bus. He’s just like his father, maybe worse. The only thing mo
re dangerous than the one with the power is the one who desperately needs it. Watching me die right in front of him is only the tip of the iceberg. The things he’s capable of will make the monsters we’re running from seem tame.

  It’s a shitty thing to do but I hold the bat in my left hand and stretch, pressing it to his face. It’s enough to break his concentration. Any distraction takes him out of his zone. He tries to smack it away which slows him down even more. But it opens my window of opportunity. The entrance is clear.

  I yank the bat away from his face and speed up with one final burst. Marty doesn’t need to slow down, I can jump and make it.

  Only, I can’t speed up. Something’s holding me back. The collar of my dad shirt tightens around my neck. This undead son of a bitch is still holding onto me. He’s got a handful of my shirt that he refuses to let go of.

  I’m done. My legs won’t carry me any further. My body is starting to shut down. This is it for me. I have to jump. If I don’t, he pulls me down and eats me. If I jump and miss, he eats me. Either way, I’m dead. It’s now or never.

  I throw myself at the bus.

  He pulls me back.

  There’s nothing to do but watch as it all gets ripped away. I was so close. At least when we hit the ground it’ll trip up Neil and he’ll go down with me. I won’t have died in vain.

  Her hand grabs my wrist. My foot is still on the bottom step. He’s dragging behind me. I can hear his feet bouncing off the pavement, snapping the bones on contact. Her dainty fingers lose their grip within seconds, my wrist is too swollen. She drops her golf club and grabs on to me with both hands, positioning her feet against the railing for leverage. She won’t let go, the look in her eyes screams it so loud it hurts. She won’t let me go.

  This should be hurting my wrist but the throbbing has intensified so much that the pressure actually feels good. Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s her hands touching me. I don’t know. Now’s not the time to question it. I manage to swing my other leg onto the step and pull with everything I have.

  It must be enough because I fall forward, crashing hard onto the steps. Her inner thigh cushions the blow to my head but he’s still on me. I can’t appreciate where my head landed for more than a split second. There’s no time.

  I roll over, kicking at the creature that won’t let go. He’s still holding on with a death grip so tight it’s twisting my whole shirt around. His other hand is grabbing at my face, trying to steady my head so he can go for my jugular. So how is he holding onto the railing? There’s another hand here, and a foot. Neil. Fucking Neil jumped on as well, I can’t see his body but it’s him. Without Felecia smacking him away, he was able to grab hold of the railing and pull himself on.

  We’ve got to get rid of him but I have bigger problems at the moment. The corpse that latched onto me is too close to hit with my bat. There’s no way I’ll be able to get enough force behind my swing. These tiny shots to the head aren’t doing it. He barely registers the fact that I’m hitting him. His warm breath slathers my face. Spit flies in every direction as he thrashes about. Inches away.

  Until he stops abruptly. His eyes lock onto my neck. He’s found his spot. He lunges.

  With just enough time to react, his gaping jaw slams into the wooden bat, shattering his front row of teeth on contact. He doesn’t flinch. Those lifeless eyes don’t leave me for a second. Blood begins dripping from them, slowly sliding down his face like tears. Saliva showers me as he flails and grabs, finally letting go of my shirt, trying desperately to get around the lone piece of wood that stands between us.

  It feels like an eternity but can’t be more than a second before someone starts ruthlessly kicking at him from above, connecting every time. It does nothing. His teeth have latched onto the bat, sending splinters poking into his gums, protruding from his shredded lips. These things are no stronger than they were when they were human, they’re just crazed and invulnerable to pain, never stopping until physically forced to.

  One of the kicks knocks the monster’s mouth away from the bat. His incisor is still lodged inside it. Strings of blood flap in the breeze as he thrashes about with newfound hope of sinking his teeth into my flesh. His neck arches before striking over and over again like a snake looking to inject its venom into every living creature within sight.

  The bat blocks his repeated thrusts, disfiguring what’s left of his mutilated face, shattering bones, crushing his throat, tearing through the cartilage that protects his windpipe from the outside world.

  His breaths are wet and congested. Blood gurgles in his flooded mouth and dribbles over what’s left of his torn lips. It’s not stopping him. Chunky liquid overflows onto his chin, clinging there before dripping onto my pants in a stream of bloody saliva. I continue holding the bat against his neck, pushing as hard as I possibly can, forcing him back. Coughs emanating from somewhere deep inside him send tremors through his entire body. In his fit of rage he sends bits of flesh and blood splattering into the air.

  I close my eyes and mouth, hoping what he got on me isn’t enough to contaminate my bloodstream. It’s even worse with my eyes closed, I can’t see him but I know his rabid mouth is only inches from me. His moist breath encompasses my face. The blood he spews dampens the air like a misty rain.

  The harder I push, the more he resists. His once firm neck feels empty now. His breathing comes out in high pitched whistles. He’s choking on his esophagus but doesn’t give a damn. He doesn’t care about protecting himself, he only wants to feed.

  My heart races as I try to breathe through my nose, refusing to let his bodily fluids enter my system. In quick flashes I see his mouth coming towards me. Blood stains his fragmented teeth and pools up beneath his tongue. His esophagus has detached, it’s coming up through his throat, bulging into his mouth with every frantic lunge.

  Felecia’s golf club wails against his spine from above. Another foot comes into view. Kicking repeatedly. Hands come from somewhere and grab at the creature’s shirt, trying to force him off. It’s Caylee, she’s leaned over the front seat, pulling him off me. Even with everyone’s help, he isn’t budging.

  The golf club strikes him in the nape of the neck repeatedly but he somehow wriggles his way closer. I can hear the decimated bones in his upper vertebrae grinding off one another. They crack and shatter with every blow from Felecia’s club.

  Someone’s foot connects with his face again, finally knocking him to the side. His head crashes into the little metal barrier. It barely looks connected to his neck anymore. He gags on his own esophagus and coughs it up in a river of dense blood. It hits the floor beside me before splattering its way down the steps like some horrific slinky.

  Caylee pulls him from above while the others knock his writhing body backwards. He bangs off the open door and drops from sight, disappearing under the bus, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The enormous tires run him over a moment later.

  I lean my head back onto Felecia and close my eyes, trying in vain to stop my body from shaking. Every muscle aches, feeling too weak and drained to be my own. Nothing but shallow breaths escape.

  Neil! My eyes shoot open. There he stands, poised in the doorway, heavy breaths escaping his winded body, fear and panic slowly fading. His gaze meets mine in a stare down so intense I can hear his heart pounding. He’s clearly in pain, he’s barely taken his hand off his back. Shit, no, is he infected? Did one of them bite him from behind?

  In slow motion that happens all too quickly, his hand slides from his back. The black metal stops inches from my face. He wasn’t holding his spine. He was holding a gun.

  “I’m in charge now.” His hand quivers ever so slightly, but not his voice. “And we’re doing things my way. Bus driver, turn it around. We’re going to that evacuation center. Now! And you,” he says, inching the barrel closer to my face, “you’re no longer needed. I’m giving you two options Britton, either walk off my bus willingly, or I pull the trigger and kick your dead, psychopathic, piece of shit body down the st
airs. Three seconds or I choose for you. One… Two…”