Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City

by Jay K. Anthony

  “Run you stupid son of a bitch!” Clark yelled, but Rocha ignored him. Clark looked down at an infected lying across his legs and chewing at his boot. “Get off me!” he screamed and punched the infected in the side of the face. The monster rolled off of him a moment before one of Rocha’s bullets blew away the top of its head.

  “Move!” Rocha yelled and ran over to pull Clark to his feet. Clark glanced back to see a vision straight from hell. Hundreds of corpses filled the theater’s seats. Those who had not died from the virus were now climbing over chairs and jumping from the balcony levels of the theater as they stormed at the two of them. Rocha lobbed a grenade into the room and a cluster of infected turned and chased after it. Clark watched as they piled onto the explosive like football players going after a fumble during a playoff game. Whomp! the grenade went off and blew the cluster of infected into gore.

  “Fire your weapon,” Rocha ordered.

  “What?” Clark asked. His mask was still covered in blood and his ears were ringing.

  “Your gun!” Rocha yelled as he shot two more infected. “Cover us! I need to reload!”

  “Oh!” Clark said and pulled his pistol out of the holster on his leg. If Rocha was going to stop shooting to reload, Clark knew he had to hold back the tide of infected long enough for Rocha to change out the magazine on his machine gun. There were still a lot of them coming, so Clark aimed at the head of the closest infected and squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked in his hand but the shot went straight and he killed the infected. I can do this, he thought and kept shooting until Rocha pulled on Clark’s shoulder and led them away from the theater. As they stepped away from the double doors, Clark tripped over his own feet, stumbled backward and fell down just as two infected charged him. Rocha slapped the bolt closed on the side of his machine gun and shot them both in the head. Clark sat on his ass and kicked the infected’s dead bodies back through the doorway.

  “Move,” Rocha said and Clark slipped his legs out of the way just as Rocha slammed the doors shut in the face of more infected. Clark’s heart pounded in his chest and he sucked wind.

  “Oh, that was horrible!” he wheezed, pulling off his helmet and mask. Tossing them aside, he rolled to his knees and puked. After a minute, Rocha helped him to his feet.

  “Well, now we know which way the survivors didn’t go,” Rocha said.

  Clark could not help but bark out a laugh. “Yeah, and now we know where all the damn infected have been hiding.”

  “Are you bit?” Rocha asked.

  Good question, Clark thought and held himself still. He was in pain just about everywhere, but it was dull pain, like he had been hit by a truck. He rolled his shoulder and fingered the thin chain mail to look for a hole in the mesh. “I think I’m okay,” he said.

  “Ingest any fluids?” Rocha asked.

  “No,” Clark said. “The pukes all mine.”

  “Good,” he said. “The mask is a biohazard now, so you’ll have to leave it. Probably best leave the helmet too.”

  Clark nodded and tried to wipe his hands on his pants, but he was a mess. Do not touch your face, he thought.

  “Hey,” Rocha said looking around again. “I think I know what this room is now. I’ll bet it is to support the theater when they have a show going.”

  It made sense to Clark. “I’ll bet you’re right,” he said. “Like for when the guests want something to eat while they’re watching the show.”

  “Exactly.”

  Clark began to put it together. “And when they were all watching a show or something, I’ll bet one of the people working in here was sick.” He looked around at all of the empty shelves. “And before they knew food in this room was contaminated they served it to every damn person in that auditorium. I’ll bet they all caught the disease on the same night.”

  “Sucks for them,” Rocha said and then he paused. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “If the food in this room is contaminated and the survivors came to this room for food, then they’re screwed.”

  Clark felt sick inside. The survivors had undoubtedly been going from kitchen to kitchen looking for food. With the sheets tied together leading down to this exact room, he began to think the survivors would have gone to the upper deck to signal a fire and then come down here. Then they would have taken any food they found. Possibly contaminated food. “That’s horrible,” Clark said.

  “Damn straight,” Rocha agreed. “We need to find those survivors fast and keep them from eating whatever they found in here.”

  “If it isn’t already too late,” Clark said.

  “Too late for what?” a voice asked. Clark looked over and saw a young woman in a filthy maid’s uniform standing in the doorway. “We heard explosions,” she said.

  LUKE

  Luke watched as Pete sat behind the steering wheel of the tow truck and grinned from ear to ear. Matt stood at the front gate, barking out directions for pushing the shot up sedan out of the way from where it sat blocking the entrance. “Left! Push it left, Pete! Jesus, are you listening to me?” Matt yelled as Pete drove the tow truck hitching forward. “Pete, I want this thing over here!” Pete tried again and nearly pushed the car into Matt who swore loudly. Luke shook his head at the whole circus from the door of the warehouse and smoked one his new cigarettes. It was fantastic after the menthols he suffered through yesterday. Maybe I should go out there and help them, he thought for a brief second but then took another drag. No sense getting run over by Pete though.

  He leaned against the doorframe and watched as Matt continued to try to direct Pete. His plan was to get the car positioned to the side of the gate to help hide a spike strip that Ted had put together the night before. The crazy hillbilly had found a few two-by-fours in the boat shop and had laid them out in a line before driving nails up through them. After that, he rooted around until he found some boat paint and smeared everything black. Once that was done, Luke had to admit it would probably be very effective.

  Once the sedan was finally in place, Ted arranged the nasty looking trap out in the road. He positioned the boards in a way that once someone had driven through the gate, even if they did see the spike strip, it would be too late to stop. With the tires shredded, Matt estimated the car would come to a halt just inside a section of road right underneath the warehouse balcony window. Ted’s official “Kill Zone”, as he so proudly called it. Luke took a final drag on his cigarette and watched as the trap was finally in place. Pete hopped out of the tow truck and came to stand beside Matt and Ted. The three men all gave each other high fives and Luke considered again if maybe it was time to split this party. I never signed on for trapping survivors, he thought as he watched the three of them stand in the early morning sun and admire their work.

  “What do you think?” Pete asked as the group walked over to Luke. To be honest, Luke thought Pete was way too excited about the ambush. Impressionable youth, Luke thought and lit another cigarette from the butt of the first.

  “Looks good,” Luke said, knowing he had to go along to get along. “Matt, you think it will work?”

  “Oh, it’s gonna work,” Ted replied with his ugly grin.

  “Agreed,” Matt said. “It’s going to work fine as long as you two don’t go gun crazy again. We want survivors next time, got it Ted?”

  Ted whipped out a mock salute. “Got it, Boss!” he sounded off. Pete giggled. Matt shook his head and turned to Luke.

  “You ready to go find us something that can handle the drive to Zombie Free Country in one piece?” Matt asked.

  So much for cutting out, Luke thought and grabbed his shotgun and backpack. Regardless, he figured anything was better than standing around all day looking at Ted’s ugly face. Luke walked to the tow truck, got behind the wheel, stuck his shotgun between the seats, and pulled a map off of the dashboard. He reviewed the directions Ted had drawn out for them the night before. They showed how to find the garage where some security company kept all their armored bank cars. Matt had st
epped inside the warehouse and Luke contemplated the keys Pete had left in the ignition. I could just start her up and lay rubber out of here, he thought. Leave these sons of bitches behind. His hand went to the keys and he paused, conflicted. Safety in numbers … but what if the numbers are all crazy? Just then Matt opened the passenger door and climbed in. Luke sighed and watched Ted and Pete open the gate. The two men were smiling and laughing about something. Excited about the fun they’ll have later this morning, Luke thought. He looked over at the spike strips again and knew their ambush site was set and there was nothing he could do about it. Smoking the last of his cigarette, he was not sure if he even really wanted to. He remembered how good he had felt when Ted had handed him the half carton of smokes. Undoubtedly more where those came from, he thought. Still, taking hostages was a whole different twist. He thought about Ted and frowned. “You think it’s a good idea to leave Pete here with Ted?” Luke asked Matt.

  “Yeah,” Matt replied and closed his door. “Why not?”

  Because Ted is a psychopath? Luke thought. “No reason. Just don’t want him to get hurt,” he said and watched Ted and Pete scurry into the warehouse to wait for some poor dumb bastards to fall into their trap. “Where to?”

  “Drive me around to that garage you checked out last night. I want to make sure there is everything I need to set up shop,” Matt said.

  “You got it,” Luke said and started the tow truck. “You know, there are a couple things you should know about the garage.”

  “Like what?” Matt asked. He had the passenger window rolled down and his arm up. He looked like he was out for a beer run.

  “I killed some hermit that was living there,” Luke explained as he drove the truck between the buildings and down an alley toward the garage. Luke could see from the corner of his eye that Matt was watching him. “What else?” Matt asked.

  “Nothing really,” Luke said as he pulled the truck to a stop. “Just that it stinks to high heaven in there.”

  Matt laughed. “You’re such a wimp,” he said. “How bad can it be?” Luke did not reply and instead turned off the truck and stepped out. He could smell the garage already. He walked over to the bay door and held his breath as he crawled under. The hermit’s body was where he had left it, lying inside in the dark. Luke was afraid to breath.

  “God damn!” Matt cried as he came in under the door and stood beside Luke. “Is there a bunch of rotten fish in here?”

  Luke couldn’t hold his breath any longer. Refusing to breathe through his nose, he opened his mouth. It didn’t help. The dead hermit, plus the rotting fish, made the smell almost unbearable and Luke gagged. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “That’s bad.”

  Matt could only nod as he pulled on a chain which hung next to the bay door. The door creaked as it slowly rolled open. Luke went to the second of the four doors and began to open that one as well. In a few minutes, they had all four doors open and the fresh air immediately helped with the smell.

  “Come here,” Matt said as he stood over the hermit’s corpse.

  “What?” Luke asked.

  “We are going to get this stinking bastard out of here,” he said. “Did you see a dumpster anywhere when you were searching around last night?”

  Luke remembered a dumpster. It was a little green one like he had seen behind restaurants and stores back before the apocalypse. “Yeah. Out back. You sure?” Luke asked. He didn’t want to touch the dead hermit’s body.

  “Well, I’m not leaving him here,” Matt said. “I want to turn this place into our workshop and I’m not staring at this ugly son of a bitch all day.” Luke glanced around for a pair of work gloves, but he didn’t see any and thought about going through all of the drawers to see if he could find something.

  “Hey,” Matt said. “Quit screwing around and let’s get this done.”

  Reluctantly, Luke shuffled behind the corpse and put his hands under the hermit’s arms. The corpse was stiff and Luke grit his teeth to keep from throwing up as Matt grabbed the body by the legs. The hermit was lighter than Luke had expected and they were able to easily pick him up, shuffle outside, and toss him into the dumpster. He landed on the bottom with a bang.

  “Was he drying fish in there?” Matt asked as they walked back into the garage.

  “I’m not sure,” Luke said. “I found a bunch of them down in the pit where he was hiding out.” He led Matt to the hermit’s camp. The fish there did not smell so bad so they followed their noses and ended up at a work table covered in fish guts. Beside it was a barrel. Luke retched as they got closer. Matt wasn’t doing much better. Oh my God, that smell is incredible! Luke thought pinching his nostrils. The hermit had apparently been throwing the leftover fish scraps in it. Even if Luke had wanted to, he could not have looked down in the barrel as there was a mass of flies, thick as a blanket, buzzing in and around the opening.

  “How about we leave this for Ted and Pete to clean up?” Matt asked.

  “Sounds good to me,” Luke replied and walked out of the garage to try to get some fresh air. After taking some long, deep breaths, he pulled out his pack of smokes, stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He enjoyed the aroma of tobacco while he smoked and waited for Matt to come out. After a minute, the man joined him.

  “Let’s get back on the road,” Matt said. “Looks like the place has everything I’m going to need.” Luke nodded and followed Matt over to the tow truck. Matt took the passenger seat again, so Luke got in behind the wheel. He started up the truck and drove them to a side gate where Matt got out and scanned the fence line to make sure it was clear of zombies or other intruders. It was all quiet so he went into the guard house and worked the controls to open the gate. Luke drove through, and then Matt closed it back again.

  “Can’t lock it from the outside,” Matt said as he got back into the truck. “Can’t imagine that it will matter though. Zombies are not smart enough to open doors.”

  Well, we have more to worry about than just zombies, Luke thought but he was not about to argue with Matt over it, so he put the truck into drive and drove them over to the freeway. They followed the directions Ted had drawn on the map and in less than an hour, they arrived at a white concrete building bleached from years in the sun. To Luke, it looked just like all the other buildings around it. Good thing Ted drew up a map so we would know which building it was that serviced the bank trucks, he thought. I never would have found this place. He drove around to the backside of the building where they found a ramp which led to a gated underground garage. Matt jumped out of the truck and walked down the ramp to a heavy wrought iron fence at the bottom. Luke stayed in the cab, smoked and waited as Matt looked through the fence. After a minute, Matt walked back up the ramp to Luke and the truck. “Turn it around,” he said. “Back this bitch down the ramp and I’ll hook up the chain.”

  Out of habit, Luke checked his mirrors for traffic and got the tow truck turned around. He backed slowly down the ramp, taking extra care to keep the sides of the vehicle away from the edges as the ramp had a slight curve and he wasn’t used to driving something this big. As he neared the bottom, he kept his eye on Matt as he waved him back. Once he was close enough, Matt made a fist and Luke hit the brakes. He left the truck running, put the transmission into neutral and set the parking brake. Jumping out, he went to help Matt extend a chain from the tow lift on the back of the truck. Luke took the free end and carried it over to the fence.

  The barrier was industrial grade, the same kind he had seen on bank parking lots. Luke looked through the grating and saw on the inside two rows of armored cars. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the underground garage, but to Luke, the trucks looked brand new. None of the tires were flat or anything. Luke went to work with the chain. The links in the gate were so close together he had trouble getting the chain in and back out to secure the end to the gate, but after a minute of working the links through one at a time, he got it done. “We good?” Luke asked Matt.

  “Yep,” Matt replied. “I’ll
drive.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Luke said and climbed onto the back of the truck.

  Matt got behind the wheel and revved the engine. “You ready?” he asked.

  Luke looked at the chain connecting the truck to the fence. There was enough slack that the chain coiled onto the ground. I wonder if we should take the slack out of the chain, he thought. One way to find out. “Go for it!” he yelled.

  Matt floored the gas pedal so hard the rear wheels screeched and Luke had to hold on to keep from falling out. The tow truck lurched forward and accelerated hard as Luke watched the slack run out of the chain and jerk taut. The back end of the tow truck jumped off of the pavement and the chain exploded. Luke dove for the bed of the truck as bits of the chain pelted the truck around him like bullets. “Stop!” he yelled as Matt continued to drive the truck up the ramp.

  “Did we do it?” Matt yelled out the driver’s side window.

  “No!” Luke yelled back. “The chain broke!”

  Matt stomped on the brakes and Luke lost his balance and fell against the back of the truck’s cab. “Son of a bitch!” Luke cried out. “What the hell, man?”

  Matt jumped out of the truck and came around to the back. “Aww, hell no,” he said. Luke stood up and looked at the fence. His end of the chain was still connected and hung limp against the fence, which looked no worse for the wear.

  “Shit!” Matt yelled. “That was the only chain.”

  Luke jumped out of the truck and looked at where the chain had broken. They needed something stronger. “We need a cable,” Luke said.