I make the hand signal and all but three of us hunker down for a quick pow wow, while the others stand guard. The ones standing guard move quietly to take up the best positions to protect the rest of us.
“Explain.” I tell him tersely.
“Caveman days brother, the Neanderthals came and replaced the existing cave people, not only by simple superiority, but by actively killing them off when they could. It’s evolution baby. The adult zombies didn’t want to share territory so they are killing off the child zombies.” His tone is matter of fact and he sounds like the student teacher he probably used to be.
“Does that mean that these things can think?” Joyce is the first one of us to say the question out loud.
“Well, it makes sense really, the adult zombies had more developed brains, so even after they turn, it stands to reason they would retain more brain capacity than the child zombies.” He says with a calm shrug.
Funny, I don’t find this particular piece of news all that fucking calming.
But for right now, it is also more or less irrelevant to the current mission of grabbing whatever we can scrounge and making it back alive. I make another hand signal and move us out again.
We are going to have to go further afield than we would like to, because pickings have been getting slim. Nothing here for us, time to move out. We can debate later the weirdness of all this shit, right now we need to focus on the task at hand and the whole not dying, while accomplishing that task, angle of it.
Cassandra scoops up a couple of handguns with dried blood all over them and stuffs them into her backpack. Odds are they were dropped by one of the other supply runs or maybe by another group of scavengers. Either way we will take them back and clean them up, if they still work great, if not, at least we get some spare parts and whatever ammo is still in them.
I am proud of my team, they are all business as we move quickly and quietly away from the vacant lot. They all cover each other’s backs as we go and all of them are constantly eyeballing the area for threats and potential scavenging opportunities.
Of which there are none for the first several blocks, like I said, we have been over this ground before, as have others. Pickings are slim and most of the cupboards are bare. Our first break is an over turned day care van that has a couple of backpacks in it. One is a decent basic first aid kit and the other has some bottled water and a few dozen granola bars in it. The inside of the bus is a slaughter house and none of us want to think about what probably happened to the people it was carrying. We quickly transfer the goods to our own packs leaving the blood stained ones behind.
Next we duck into what is left of a Rite Aid, we leave two guards at the door and the rest of us go through it with a fine tooth comb. It has been hit before, but we find a few odds and ends we can use, including some over the counter medicines and some canned food. This is all taking three times as long as it should, because we are being so careful about not making noise. I long for the good old days when we only had one kind of undead fiends to worry about.
We move on.
An adult zombie lurches out of a side alley and before it can do so much as growl at us, student teacher dude bashes its head in with what looks like a croquet mallet.
I am starting to like him.
I flash a hand signal and we double time it away from the scene of the crime as quietly as we can. Our next target is a corner market we haven’t personally hit yet. It is marked on a scouting map, but was completely over run by child zombies when it was first scouted. The scouting team marked it as a high risk target and we had easier ones to try before we needed to take the risk of sending a scavenge team to it.
We don’t have that luxury any more.
The front door is shattered and mostly torn off its hinges and a not so great smell is coming from inside. We watch it for a minute, all of us hiding behind a burned out city bus and as we watch an adult zombie comes staggering out still chewing a mouthful of flesh.
We all suck in our breath, when we recognize her as one of our own.
Joyce clamps her hand over Veronica’s mouth to stifle the scream that she just sucked in breath for. She struggles franticly for a moment, but then goes limp with silent tears pouring out of her eyes.
The zombie standing in front of the store, is her little sister.
Her name was Sheri Anne.
Chapter Five
The thing that used to be Sheri Anne, stands with her head cocked to one side, looking like she is listening intently to something.
Hopefully that something has nothing to do with us.
Emotions aside, we need to take her out and raid the store as quickly and quietly as possible, without attracting any more of the damn things.
Cassandra picks up a rock and flings it hard to her left, it pings off of rusted out dumpster and then hits a bunch of broken bottles.
The effect on the zombie is electric, it reacts instantly to the sound and goes stumbling off towards it. We haul ass while its back is to us and pile into the store with our weapons ready.
What is left of a scavenger, is pretty much splattered all over the store, poor bastard, must be what the zombie was chewing on when we got here. Aside from his shredded body, we are alone in the place.
The place is a treasure trove.
In minutes, we have all filled our backpacks with assorted canned food, toothbrushes, tools and other goodies. No weapons, except for a belt knife we figured the chewed up guy didn’t need any more, but we have made a good haul. Joyce is leading a dazed Veronica around by the hand, whispering to her softly as she fills both their backpacks.
No need to range any further afield, we will double it time back home and make plans to hit this place again soon. It has enough salvage to warrant at least three more trips.
I take point and we carefully leave the store.
And step right into trouble.
Three men are standing in the street with guns pointing at us as we come out, another group of survivors, willing to do whatever they need to do to survive.
I point back at the store and mouth the word ‘plenty more’ to them, but the biggest of them gives me a smile full of shattered decayed teeth and shakes his head at me.
So, I guess we won’t be playing nice then.
We outnumber them, but they already have their guns pointed at us, question is, are they smart enough to know that firing them will be like ringing the dinner fucking bell for every zombie around here? Really don’t like basing our survival plan on them being smart.
“Drop the packs and maybe we will let you walk away.” The short man to the left of the big guy barks out.
Well, so much for being smart.
A high pitched keening wail erupts from behind them and Sheri Anne is standing there, not attacking yet, just making the weird ass shrill noise. As we watch she begins to swell up. Almost like a damn puffer fish.
“Back into the store! Haul ass!” I am already moving as I bark the order and as one we all fall back, ignoring the assholes with the guns in the face of the bigger threat.
Sheri Anne’s skin is rippling like things are moving underneath and she is still puffing up, her face is all but unrecognizable now, it is so distorted. The shrill scream is getting louder and higher in pitch and a truly god awful smell is coming off of her now.
“Shoot her!” The biggest of the three shouts and without waiting for his buddies, he opens fire on her.
The bullets strike her in the chest and for a moment nothing happens, she just keeps on screaming and swelling up.
Then she fucking explodes.
Chunks of flesh and gore splash against the store front and the smell is so bad that we all start immediately vomiting. The blood bubbles against whatever it touches and then like acid, starts to eat at it. The glass in the windows dissolves, the concrete sidewalk dissolves and the metal door hanging on its hinges dissolves.
So do the three assholes in the street.
They scream, but not for very long.
“The pathogen is mutating.” Student teacher dude says, as he helps Joyce stand up.
I wave everyone towards the back of the store, we need to find another exit and get the hell out of here. All that noise is going to bring whatever zombies are around here down on us and that is not a party that I am interested in attending.
Not to mention that I want to get clear of this fucking awful stench.
When we get back home, student teacher dude and I are going to have us a long chat about mutating pathogens.
We will start that conversation with finding out what the hell his name is.
Chapter Six
We go out the back door and instantly run into a pack of zombies that we have to bash and gash our way through. The fight is brutal, but over in minutes and we take no causalities.
And on a good note, none of the damn things exploded.
Another bright spot, their blood is just blood, not foul smelling damned battery acid.
They go down and stay down, looking the bodies over, I see that none of them are our missing people. One of them still has a gun in a holster and I stop long enough to take it and the extra magazines in a pouch on it’s belt.
Waste not want not.
Veronica is pale and still visibly shaken by what happened to her sister, but she held her own in the brawl and is moving steadily down the street with us now. When we get back, she will have the luxury of falling apart, but for now she is in survival mode, which is exactly where I need her to be.
Our route takes us up a steep hill and when we get to the top, I dig out a small pair of binoculars and take a look back down at the store.
A couple of dozen zombies are milling around in front of it, as I watch they spread out to surround the building. Then, as if on some unheard signal they all rush it at once, bursting in through both doors and what is left of the windows.
The fucking things are working together.
God help us.
But for now we will help ourselves, I put the binoculars away and give the signal to move out again. I keep what I saw to myself, right now all my squad needs to be thinking about, is getting home in one piece. Like Veronica’s grief, freaking out is not a luxury we can remotely afford right now.
Can’t help hoping though, that the bastard Whiskey Dave was kind enough to leave me a bottle.
Nothing horrible happens for a few blocks. It is eerie how empty the streets are. Most missions I have been on, we alternate hiding from and taking out child zombies every step of the damn way. I think Sheri Anne exploding has drawn most of the adult zombies in that direction and as disturbing as that is, I will take it as a win for right now.
Cassandra takes out a female zombie with a hatchet blow to the forehead, as the thing charges her from behind an oversized construction dumpster. She kicks the still twitching corpse away from her and we keep moving.
We aren’t making great speed, the heavy packs and the need for stealth is slowing us down. More than just zombies to worry about, we keep an eye out for other survivors as well. Those three idiots who melted in the street, likely have pals around here somewhere. I make a mental note to beef up the door guards and general security when we get back, we haven’t had anyone try to raid us for a long time. That is probably due to the fact that we have killed every group that has ever tried, pretty much down to the last man. Nobody has even come close to succeeding so far.
If anyone is working up the nerve to try now, we will have to make a messy example of them. We strung up a few of the last batch on telephone poles, outside of our building as a visual aid for a very basic message.
Don’t fuck with The Narwhals.
Big Al was pretty damn ruthless in sending that particular notion out there into the world and I will be just as ruthless.
Hell, I might just be more ruthless.
If I have to be.
Maybe sensing my dark thoughts, Joyce gives my hand a gentle squeeze as she scans her side of the loose formation we are moving in. I squeeze back we exchange a quick smile. There hasn’t been a lot of down time to explore how we feel about each other, which makes moments like this so special. We take a moment to enjoy it.
Then we go back to carefully looking for things that we might have to kill, before they kill us.
We stop a couple blocks away from home and using the binoculars again, I crane my head from around a corner and scope things out.
Crap.
The ragged semi-circle of zombies is back in place in front of our building again, just standing there all of them, with their heads tilted slightly to one side as they stare unblinkingly at the main entrance.
Got some choices to make here.
We can try to go in stealthy, get as close as we can to the doors and then fight our way through what we can’t sneak past. Or, we can go in loud and kill as many of the damn things as we can to whittle down their numbers, before we fight our way to the door.
I know which one I pick, but I put it to the team through curt whispers and hand gestures. I can tell from their faces that it isn’t going to be unanimous, but it doesn’t have to be. I will go with majority rules in this case.
Me, I want to get inside as fast as possible for a number of reasons. First, we have a lot of supplies with us, that don’t do the people inside any good sitting out here. Second, I have a lot of information to process and I need to gather some of my smartest people and put that info in front of them. We have to move quickly to move against the new threats presenting themselves.
Thirdly, I have Cassandra with me and her girlfriend gets really cranky when she is gone too long.
Trust me on this, a cranky sniper isn’t something anybody wants.
For her answer Joyce pulls out her gun and slowly and as quietly as possible she chambers a round. Her face is grim and I know that she is carrying a lot of grief and anger inside right now and that spells trouble for the undead fucks between us and home.
One by one they all put away their other weapons and they all draw whatever guns they are carrying. Some of them look happier about it than others, but they will all do what is necessary.
“I suck with a gun brother, I will stick to my bat.” Student teacher dude tells me softly with a hang dog look.
I consider it for a minute and then nod at him. We will discuss training options later, not sure how his ass got cleared for outside runs, if what he is telling me about his gun skills is true. Then again ammo has been in short supply for a while, so practice has not really been an option.
We decide on a compromise of sorts, we will sneak in as close as we can and then start blazing our way to the doors. I know the roof top guards will support us with suppressing fire as much as they can. Unbidden memories of the last time they guided us in, flash through my mind, Joyce had been carrying the child that ultimately cost us Big Al and our only doctor. At the time it had seemed the right thing to do.
The most costly decisions generally do.
The cover runs out and the first zombie notices us.
It hoots and charges us and one by one the others peel off of their positions and join the charge. We fan out and get ready to deal with them as they come. They all begin to make the same damn keening noise as they come at us and I take a certain amount of pleasure of shutting up the first one to come near me, with a well-placed head shot.
Joyce wades into the fight like she has been starving for it. The gun shifts from target to target as she goes and she doesn’t miss one god damned time. Her beautiful face is contorted in an alchemy of pain, rage, fear and loss that defies measurement. At least by any scale I know.
Veronica is also getting into the spirit of the thing, she carries an old Stoeger Coach double barrel shot gun, sawed down to sixteen inches and she is a machine with the damn thing. Bang bang reload, bang bang reload. Shampoo, rinse, repeat. She helps cut us a path towards the front door.
Cass
andra snaps off a few shots, she is looking out for the kid with the bat as best she can, but he is holding his own. He doesn’t take stupid chances, he back pedals when he has to and moves forward when he can. Still, he can only swing that bat so much before his arms get too tired to do it anymore.
I am more than content to let my gun do the heavy lifting.
Part of me, no matter how many times I had to do it, part of me died every single time I had to kill a child zombie. I did what had to be done, but at a cost every time. I have no such compunctions at killing the larger models, they are just targets to be put down.
We have cut a wide swath through them, even more are falling now because Katrin and her buddies have opened up from the roof. I am relieved that no more crazy mutations have shown up, these zombie just fall and die after we blow their undead brains out.
That is when I see a new group of zombies coming towards us and see that in front of them, they are herding two screaming zombies whose flesh is already beginning to pulsate and swell.
Oh crap.
Chapter Seven
“Open up on those fucking things! We can’t let them get near the doors and blow! The acid will melt the damn doors!” I shout to my team.
I start firing at the new threat praying that those on the rooftop take the hint and start doing the same. The zombies surrounding the Screamers start to go down, but the swelling up deaders are still waddling towards us.
Meanwhile more zombies are coming out of every side alley, we are minutes away from being overwhelmed.
“Abort! Abort! Everybody inside!” I bark the order as I put myself between the Screamers and my team.
The doors burst open and armed guards join the fray, buying us the time to get back into the building. Cassandra tosses a couple of flashbangs out the door, just before men slam it closed and lock it firmly shut.
I point the guard nearest the stairs and bellow instructions to him the moment the door closes.
Zombie Extinction Event (Book 2): Hush Page 2