Day One (Book 3): Alone

by Michael McDonald

  Her dark uniform, although blending well with the environment when stationary, made as much noise while moving as a herd of elephants trying to sneak into a dark house filled with china furnishings. She had moved to either get a better look at my target, or she was setting up to take off again. Any way you flushed it, her movement had betrayed us and the Guard locked onto where we were.

  “There he is!” He shouted and began shooting.

  Bullets whizzed past my head, a few hit the dirt in front of me and kicked up debris, while two more slammed into the tree nearest to my face and sent slivers of dangerous projectiles exploding in all directions. I withdrew from the open and shielded my eyes to see Rachel move behind a tree in front of me with her pistol drawn.

  “Shoot back!” I instructed her.

  The gunfire halted and I used this time to lean out and fire at the Guard in the window. My bullets didn’t hit the ground or some poor tree, as his had. Mine hit him square in the chest and he slumped against the window, lost his footing and fell two stories to his brutal demise.

  Rachel and I used the time to flee further into the grove of trees as more Guards fired blindly into our wooden hideout. I guess they were hoping to get lucky and score a hit on me, because they hadn’t seen Rachel yet. And I wanted to keep it that way.

  Morris slid the cruiser onto the next street, gunned the engine and watched through the passenger window until he reached the location that should be exactly opposite of the house. He spun the car to a stop and got out with a 12 gauge shotgun – a Remington 870 pump – and chambered the first round. The shotgun made a very distinct sound when cocked and it had the means to travel far, alerting anyone within earshot that he wasn’t playing. “Let’s dance, asshole!”

  Chapter Seven.

  The rain covered our escape deeper into the grove. I slowed to a jog and looked back to see that no one was following us yet, but how could they? They were inside the house and would first have to exit, and then come around the side before entering the grove, giving us ample time to put a greater amount of distance from them.

  Lightning flashed and was followed by thunder that had to have been directly above, probably twenty feet overhead. I almost jumped out of my skin as it pounded and tore the sky apart, its concussion showered down upon me and I could swear it ruffled through my hair and flapped at my clothing. A gust of wind cut through the grove forcing Rachel to stop and remove the hair from in front of her face. She noticed I wasn’t beside her and looked over her shoulder to see me ten feet away, rigid and searching frantically for something. “What is it?”

  I held a single finger out to her, telling her to be quiet so that I could continue with whatever it was I was doing. The suppressor fitted securely on my barrel followed the direction of my head, as I cautiously swung the weapon from one side of my vision to the other, waiting for someone to present themselves. Only falling rain came to me.

  “Come on, we gotta go,” Rachel called to me a loud as she dared.

  Morris entered through a side gate, crossed the backyard of a silent house and shouldered the shotgun near the edge of the tree grove. The trees on this side were far apart and provided an excellent view, that is until he made it another twelve feet, to which the trees abruptly fell closer together and melted in with the waist high bushes and rolling terrain. The distance he could see was cut in half and with the rain falling, it dropped even lower. “Come on you bastard, come on out so I can see your face… and then blow it off.”

  A faint sound entered my ears, reporting to my brain that they had heard something that shouldn’t be there. I turned my head to the right slightly, allowing my left ear a better chance at narrowing down the noise and figuring out what was making it. Something was pounding the dirt. Something was getting louder with each new second. Something was coming closer and in the blink of an eye, my brain reacted and forced signals to flood my body. I turned and ran as fast as I could, grabbing Rachel as I passed her and we swept farther into the tree grove.

  “Are they coming?” She asked me.

  “Yes, they’re coming,” I replied through gasping lungs.

  Tree limbs pulled at our clothes, snared at our feet, attempted to poke us in the eyes and stop us from getting away. The woods, we thought, were our friends and supplied us with cover from gunfire, yet turned out to be anything but that. We might as well have been running through a crowd of angry people wanting to murder us in a round room.

  The wind kicked up and I literally had to fight with my free hand to block the limbs, bushes and gnashing gusts out of the way. It was at this time also that I spotted a glimpse of the next street, which meant we were almost home free, as long as the Guards didn’t catch up or the woods caved in upon us, we would make it out alive.

  “Keep up, we’re almost there,” I told Rachel, who was having a hard time keeping up with me and my long legs.

  I had to shorten my stride and I wasn’t fond of doing so, however, she was in this with me now and I couldn’t in good faith turn my back on her. I side stepped a tree and slowed, allowing her to match my pace and we carried on.

  Lightning, now brighter and longer than I had ever seen, careened across the darkening sky, reminding me of a strobe light… a giant, huge, powerful strobe light. I closed my eyes suddenly as the thunder exploded, sounding like a fleet of seven forty sevens colliding in mid-air, just a few feet over our heads. I almost ducked, although in doing so would have slowed me even more, so instead I picked the pace up once more. It was amazing that I had woken only half an hour ago to daylight and now it was growing dark as if the day had somehow passed me by.

  Another abrupt flicker of lightning, Rachel and I dashed out of the tree grove, saw Morris go to shoulder a shotgun, but my short rifle was already trained. I fired and my bullet clipped him in the head, forcing him backward and he fired the shotgun into the safety of the ground at his feet before crashing there himself.

  Rachel wanted to continue. I wanted to stop and make sure he was done.

  “What are you doing?” She shouted after I had torn my hand from her grasp and was heading toward Morris.

  “Making sure this asshole is done!” I shouted in reply.

  She slowed to a stop and threw her eyes at the tree grove, fully expecting at any moment to see a dozen or more Guards spill out and begin shooting at them. There was not much in the way of cover, nowhere she’d be safe and able to return fire without getting hit. “They’re coming, we need to go!”

  I stopped by Morris who was lying on his right side. Blood spilled onto the green grass below his dangling head and he appeared to be motionless. I kicked the shotgun away from him and took aim with my weapon – at this range there was no way I could miss this time.

  “Come on, we gotta go!” Rachel continued to shout to me.

  Morris took a breath and slowly moved his head to where he could see me. The bullet had hit him in the head alright, unfortunately though, it had only grazed him and he most certainly would survive. He would have one hell of a headache for a while and a scare, but he would survive.

  “You,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I said holding the barrel just a few feet from his face. “Right about now, I’m guessing you probably wished you would have just left me alone like I asked, huh?”

  “You came into my house!” He said a little louder. “You’re the one that started all of this.” He spit a mouthful of blood onto the grass, eyeing me as he did so.

  I wasn’t about to argue with this asshole, as I didn’t need to build up the courage to kill him. I’d hoped to do it several times in the past, and here I found myself hovering over him with his life swaying in the breeze. He could point the finger at whomever he wanted, just as much as he could try and blame someone else… hell, he could make up as much shit as he wanted, but in the end I was the one standing over him. I was the one that had reduced his population, and I was also the one with all of the power now.

  “You still can’t take
responsibility for anything, can you?” I asked.

  “Screw you!”

  “How mature of you,” I said to him, working to keep my finger from pulling the trigger. A quick death was not what he’d receive at my hands. I wanted him to suffer for the things he had done and the lives he had helped to destroy, which justified my need to inflict as much pain on him as humanly possible. Since Smith was no longer available, Morris would get the brunt of my psychotic rage over what had happened to my son. I no longer cared if my actions made me no better than him. My revenge was a dish that was served hot or cold, I didn’t care which, as long as it was served up with a smile.

  Hell was not going to hold a candle to me, when I got started.

  Rachel’s voice boomed loudly once more, and although I had heard her every other time, just her tone this time around pulled me from my growing need to torture Morris where I saw her pointing toward the tree grove. I spun to see a couple of Guards dash out into the open and quickly stop as they spotted me and the rifle in my hands. I aimed and put both of them down, yelling for Rachel to keep going as I darted across a patch of green grass and dove behind Morris’ cruiser.

  Bullets slammed into the vehicle the very second I disappeared behind it and I moved to the front tires and pulled myself into a low crouch. A few whizzed past the top of my head and I could hear the gunfire grow louder, telling me that more Guards had exited the grove and were firing at me. The lull in gunfire was not going to happen this time, there were too many of them now and when a few ran dry, others still had plenty of bullets to share with me.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I shouted, expressing my dismay of the situation. I looked for Rachel and saw her nowhere. They didn’t know she had been with me, therefore if she decided to go back to them there wouldn’t be a problem – I’m positive she wasn’t though.

  A few bullets ripped through the driver door and it was then I realized I might not make it out of this situation. Luck could only hold out for so long before the inevitable stepped in. I felt the sting of another failed attempt. I had Morris in my sights and could have killed him already, yet I had taken too much time. “Think… focus dammit,” I said to myself, trying to figure a way out of the mess I had gotten myself into once again. I find it rather funny that instead of listening to reason and slipping away unharmed, I choose to ignore the obvious and blindly stand my ground. Waving my fists at anyone who will take a moment to look at me and think how I’m either insane or just the stupidest person they’ve ever come into contact with.

  Leaning around the front of the cruiser I could see Morris still on the ground. He looked at me and swiftly aimed his pistol and fired. I jerked my head back just in time. Three consecutive bullets slammed into the front of the cruiser and were stopped instantly. I could make out his voice yelling something at me, although with the undying gunfire, it was hard to make out. I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant though.

  They’re going to flank you… you’re a sitting duck where you are. Do something for god sakes before they do! My mind shouted to me. What could I do though? If I rose to fire back, I’d be cut down for sure. If I tried to run away, I’d be cut down. The nearest shred of cover was a parked car in a driveway almost fifty feet away, and that was a great deal of open ground to cover with a dozen Guards trying to kill me. Everywhere I looked and everything that I thought about, all lead down the same road… all had the same outcome. I was screwed no matter what I did. I was better armed, more suited to employ military styled tactics than they were, yet here I sat, armed and not so dangerous anymore, behind a police cruiser with nowhere to go. I was at a dead end. Literally.

  Movement caught my attention and I spun my head up the street to see about ten undead staggering toward the gunfire. Apparently they must have been one street over before everything transpired. I hoped that remaining perfectly still would keep me hidden and they’d zero in on the Guards and attack them, giving me the perfect opportunity to escape, as I had done so many times before. However promising that sounded to me, there arose the problem of them running into Morris before any of the Guard’s and with him injured, they’d finish him before I ever got the chance.

  I cannot for the life of me begin to believe what I was thinking, yet even through all of the pain this asshole had caused me and his relentless endeavor to track me down and finish me off with great prejudice, I had to get to him somehow and pull him to safety. “Great,” I said as I peered out to look in Morris’ direction. “This son of a bitch would kill me in a heartbeat and my dumbass is about to do something stupid to save him… what an idiot!”

  More movement, but this time to my right and much closer, pulled me to see Rachel squatted behind an abandoned vehicle with her Glock in both hands. She motioned for me to come to her. I shook my head, and then suddenly she saw the undead closing in on me and pointed. I gave a thumbs up, and then rolled in their direction. I could easily take them all down, my weapon would reach that far, but I hesitated as I wondered if the undead could be used to my advantage, kind of like a diversion while I went after Morris? Was that even possible?

  There was a momentary lull in the gunfire, to which I heard one of the Guard’s inform the others of the approaching undead. If ever there had been a chance for me to use someone against another person – a large group against a smaller one, that is – here it was. The need to survive was the one true constant in my life and it was overflowing with idea’s suddenly, so much so that it was hard for me to even keep up with one thought before another took its place.

  The undead were closing in fast. The Guard’s had reduced the amount of fire directed at me and were now trying to take the undead out before they got any closer. By remaining perfectly still, I was able to watch them change course and head after my foes. I was pushed against the front tire, my left knee bent with the SBR mag resting upon it, my eyes peering through the Aimpoint optic. If any of them came for me, I’d give them a one way ticket straight to hell. If any of them went for Morris, I might let them get a bit too close for comfort before wounding them and at least slowing them down. After all, you’re really not supposed to interfere with natural selection, ya know. That could be terrible.

  “Somebody get Morris!” A voice shouted.

  The undead shuffled out of my sight and I leaned forward to see them heading for Morris. Gunfire erupted once more and several of them fell, as the Guards were doing their best to defend their leader and rescue him at the same time. However, in their task they had forgotten all about me. They were so focused on saving Morris, even though he belittled each of them constantly, that not one of them had their eyes in my direction. This was the advantage I had been hoping for all long, and now it had presented itself to me. I took it instantly.

  I rose slowly and placed the short rifle on the hood of the cruiser. More of the undead dropped as they grew closer to Morris and if I did nothing soon, all of the undead would be on the ground and I’d be back to hiding with no way out. I could not let that happen.

  Those that follow a tyrant, do they do it because they have no way of thinking for themselves, or do they do it to feel empowered in constraining others?

  I let a short burst go, killing one of the Guard’s and badly wounding another. The confusion of the moment hid the fact in plain sight, as the others were still doing their best to save their leader.

  Morris, still lying on the ground, was burning through the magazine in his pistol and soon he’d be empty. He’d have to reload and if any of the undead were close to him, they could simply fall forward and land on him. From that point on his life would pretty much be over.

  Several more bursts from my SBR finally called the attention of the Guards who had no other choice but to retreat into the safety of the grove, leaving me alive and their precious leader with only moments before death. I finished off the remainder of the mag and dropped behind cover to reload, and that’s when I saw it.

  Dashing up the street in a full sprint, six of the newly turned undead were headed my way. I
fumbled for the first time to get the fresh mag into the short rifle, as the pack of wolf-like predators closed the gap. No doubt they had seen me on their arrival to investigate the gunfire and now I was their prime suspect or victim rather. I turned my head to Rachel. “Run your ass off!” I shouted to her.

  She looked at me as though I were some crazy person randomly shouting things to get attention, although as I turned away from her she caught sight of the reason I had instructed her to run. In the time from then, when all of this started, up until this very moment, she had been sheltered so to speak from the realities of how screwed up the world had really become. Rachel, as well as the Guard’s with her, had not yet had the pleasure of meeting the runners like I had. They knew only the slow undead that shuffled about in some aimless manner, easy to run away from and only dangerous in large groups if one was to became trapped.

  “What the hell are those things?” She blurted.

  “Move your ass!” I responded coldly, slammed the mag in tightly and let the bolt close home. I was ready for them this time. They wouldn’t catch me with my back to them; they wouldn’t take me by surprise as they had before. This time I would dictate how things happened… not them. I crouched as low to the street as I could get and took careful aim at my fast approaching enemies. “Come and get me,” I whispered.

  The pack surged ahead and I found myself worried about Morris once more. I peered around the front of the cruiser to see him trying to get to his feet. The graze wound to his head still held him firmly planted in one spot. He was alone, the rest of the Guards had fled into the protection of the grove and if he didn’t get his act together, he’d be on their menu.

  “This had better be worth it,” I mumbled and fired the first series of shots at the fast approaching runners. Two of them dropped and rolled to a stop. One of them took a round to the leg, tripped and fell, but quickly got up and carried onward. I killed another one, as they grew even closer and began to think that maybe I was better off running away, then standing my ground and fighting them. I dismissed that thought instantly, knowing that I had to be the one that made Morris pay. Those things were no longer bound by emotions or revenge. They didn’t care who they killed or why.