Survival

by Rhonda Hopkins

  SURVIVAL (Survival Series Book One)

  by Rhonda Hopkins

  When Sarah escapes from her brutal abductors, she promises to return to rescue her twin sister, but with the dead walking the earth she is forced to rely on a coworker who made her work life hell for years. With her coworker weakened by cancer treatments, her sister still imprisoned, and the dead looking for an easy meal, Sarah's only plan, if she can pull it off, is Survival.

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Survival

  Copyright 2013 Rhonda Hopkins

  Published by Killer Ink Press

  Smashwords Edition

  Discover Other Titles by Rhonda Hopkins at Smashwords.com

  Survival was originally published in the LET'S SCARE CANCER TO DEATH Anthology, March 2014. All proceeds for the anthology go to The V Foundation for Cancer Research.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  This book may not be used, reproduced, transmitted, scanned, distributed, or stored in whole or in part by any means whatsoever, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Your support of author rights is appreciated.

  Smashwords Edition

  License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold, rented, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The author holds all reproduction, reprint, and re-sell rights to this book in digital, audio, and print versions.

  Cover Design by Jeffrey Kosh Graphics (http://jeffreykosh.wix.com/jeffreykoshgraphics)

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Blurb

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  DEDICATION

  For my grandmother, Lavada Moore

  Nanny, thank you for watching all those classic horror movies with me when I was a child and for giving me my love of the genre. Cancer took you away far too soon and I miss you every day.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sarah Jamison's gaze met her twin's fear-filled blue eyes. "I—"

  "It's no use. The cuff is too tight. You're going to have to leave me." Dana put her free hand on Sarah's, stilling their frantic motions.

  "No. I won't leave you. Maybe I can . . ." She turned, taking in the empty basement—the cement walls, exposed pipes, and her sister handcuffed to one of the metal cylinders. A small amount of light trickled in through the one lone window, but there was nothing she could use as a weapon. Unless . . . .

  She strode over to the dangling pipe from which she had managed to extricate herself earlier. Grabbing the unattached end, she tried wresting it clear of its fittings, her own wrist dangling handcuffs which clinked against the metal with each pull. Rust and time made it impossible to remove.

  "Sarah—"

  "No." Tears ran down her face. "I can't leave you, Dana."

  "You have to. It's the only way we're both getting out of here. You have to go for help."

  Sarah knelt beside her sister who reached out and wiped her thumb across her cheek, brushing the tears aside.

  "I'll be okay until you get back. I won't give them any excuse to throw me out to those . . . ." Dana choked back the word they had both been avoiding, choosing another instead. "Creatures."

  Realizing there was no way she could take on all three kidnappers without a weapon, Sarah accepted she had to have assistance to save Dana. Hugging her sister, Sarah kissed her cheek. "I love you, Dana. Be strong. I'll be back just as soon as possible."

  Heavy footsteps reverberated on the stairs. Dana pushed Sarah away. "Go now. Before it's too late."

  Stretching upwards, she tried to raise the window, but it wouldn't budge. She took off her T-shirt, wrapped her hand, and knocked out the glass, ducking as shards rained down on her. Pain shot through her palm all the way to her shoulder, but adrenaline fueled her and minimized the hurt. She unwound the red fabric and smoothed it hurriedly across the sill.

  The door crashed inward as one of the men who had captured them ran into the room. "What's going on here?" He took in the situation and bee-lined for Sarah, grabbed her legs and pulled her down from the window. Grasping one arm, he backhanded her across the face. The edge of his ring ripped across her forehead; the pain almost blinding. Blood gushed from the wound.

  She jerked away from him and took on the fighting stance she had been taught, feet set apart at shoulder width. Sarah grabbed the dangling cuff in her hand and put all her force in the punch to the man's jaw. His head snapped backwards. Before he could react, she stepped back and struck out with her right foot, making contact with his left knee. The crunch of breaking bone and his scream told her she had done some major damage even before he fell to the floor.

  The other two kidnappers pounded down the stairs.

  "Sarah! Go!" Dana screamed.

  She grabbed the window sill and pulled herself upward and through the opening; glass slivers cutting her where the shirt didn't cover. She yanked her legs through, turned and gave one last look at her sister and saw her mouth, "I love you."

  Two men crashed through the open doorway. One ran for the window as the other stopped to check out their injured friend.

  Sarah took off running around the abandoned building to the parking lot in front. Her black Expedition was one of three cars parked there. The abductors had taken their keys and cellphones, so she fell to her knees on the pavement beside the left rear tire and reached into the wheel well. Her fingers fumbled for the magnetic box and she issued a silent prayer of thanks when she found it. She got in the car and hit the locks just as the man they called Ron sprinted around the side of the building. The inside light illuminated the car's interior, giving away her location.

  Her shaking fingers pulled the key from its container. She managed to insert it and start the car in one try. Ron banged on the passenger window with one hand, the other pulling on the handle. He yelled and hurled obscenities as she squealed away from him and onto the street.

  CHAPTER TWO

  In the few hours they had been held captive, things had deteriorated drastically in the city of Fort Worth. A smattering of abandoned cars littered the streets along with the dead. Bodies savagely torn open and covered in blood had fallen along the roadway, across cars and railings. But even worse . . . some of them walked. Some of them walked with hideous gashes and missing appendages. Some of them walked with their guts hanging on the outside as they shambled along the dark streets. Some of them walked—while dead.

  Zombies. There was no other word for them. People had joked about this kind of thing happening, but that's all it was - jokes. It wasn't supposed to really happen. Right?

  She jumped as something crashed into the back of her car. Sarah shook off the disbelief. Well, however it happened, it was real and there was no time to try to figure it out now.

  Sarah maneuvered around the unmoving vehicles, searching for police or anyone who could help. The blue and red flashi
ng lights from police cruisers and ambulances indicated an emergency personnel presence. But they were overwhelmed. Those she saw either fought the dead or assisted the wounded. Some were injured themselves or had become one of the reanimated corpses. She would find no help there.

  Her body shook from shock and cold. Goosebumps peppered her flesh. But she drove on until she came to a dark side road and pulled into a group of trees, cutting the engine and the lights. She listened carefully for a few precious moments, but heard nothing.

  Blood dripped down her face from the gash at her hairline. Sarah reached for the injury with a trembling hand. Warm wetness coated her fingers and she jerked them back, startled by the amount. The coppery smell filled the car.

  "It's okay. It's okay," she whispered to herself. "Even minor head wounds bleed a lot."

  Lightning flashed and thunder boomed instantaneously. Startled, Sarah screamed. She clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting off the sound. "Got to get a grip. Dana's counting on me." Her breath caught in her throat as she thought of her twin still in the hands of lunatics. "I can't fall apart now."

  Turning on the overhead light, she stretched around to the back seat and pulled her gym bag into her lap. She unzipped it and dug out the towel she had packed that morning.

  How could things have gone to hell in such a short time?

  She pressed the towel against the laceration and held it there, while turning off the light with the other hand. She looked out at the darkness. Other than the rain, wind, and other forces of nature, there was nothing moving. But that could change in the space of a breath; she knew only too well.

  The area looked familiar. She was just on the outskirts of Fort Worth and knew someone who lived a couple of blocks away. Hopefully she would be able to get some help. But considering the animosity between them, she was just as likely to be turned away.

  "Not gonna freakin' happen."

  Her skin prickled with the low temperatures. She hadn't dressed for the cold front which came in while being held inside the building. She had expected to be home well before it hit. She threw the towel in the back seat, grabbed a T-shirt from the gym bag and pulled it over her head, ignoring the smell of dried sweat from her workout earlier in the day. The handcuff snagged in the armhole, halting its descent. Sarah jerked it loose and pulled her arm through. The black tee was better than nothing, but she still shivered.

  She started the engine, jacked up the heat, and slammed the car into gear. She drove with the lights off, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.

  Some areas were completely dark. Electricity seemed to be out in some places, but not all. And some people appeared to have backup generators as there were lone spots of brightness against the darkness.

  She found the street she was looking for, although it was difficult to distinguish one house from another. The electricity still functioned here, but many of the street lamps had been broken with only a few to illuminate the affluent community. However, the pretentiousness of the home she sought stood out, even in the dark. She slowed to a stop and checked the surrounding area before turning off the Expedition. Upon exiting the vehicle, she let the door close with a barely audible click.

  Within seconds she was soaked; her blonde hair plastered against her scalp. The rain washed the blood down her face as she made a dash for the cover of the front porch.

  Noise could create a problem, so she tried the door first, but of course found it locked. Holding her breath, she knocked softly.

  Just as she lifted her hand, a sound carried through the rain and she whipped around, ready to flee. An old man shuffled alongside the house across the street, seemingly oblivious to the pounding rain. He had knocked over a trash can. Could be just the unsteady gait of a senior citizen. It wasn't discernible at first. But then the wind changed and she picked up the smell of blood and decaying flesh.

  Oh, God, no. Please. Not now. Adrenaline surged through her body.

  Turning back, she knocked a little louder. Almost immediately she heard something on the other side of the door as if whoever was there had been waiting for her to leave.

  "Meredith. It's Sarah. Open the door. Hurry!"

  "Sarah. Go away. It's not a good time." The haughty tone of the woman was mixed with fear and something Sarah could not identify.

  She would have laughed if she hadn't been so afraid. "Of course it's not a good time, Meredith. It's hell out here. Let me in . . . please." Meredith liked when people groveled. So she would grovel if she had to.

  "No. Get away from the door!"

  Sarah half turned to see where the old man had gone and found him at the edge of the street as if listening. She didn't know how the dead could hear, but then again, she didn't know how they walked around either. Fortunately, with the rain and wind, it was unlikely he had heard her. So far. Rage filled her.

  "Meredith, if you don't open up this door in the next three seconds, I swear I'm going to break every one of your damn windows. Now let me in!"

  So much for groveling.

  Sarah wasted no time when she heard the deadbolt disengage. She grabbed the knob and turned, pushing in at the same time.

  Meredith gasped and stepped back. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I need your phone. Where is it?" She walked through the foyer into a dark living room.

  "You're getting my floors all dirty. Wait here." Meredith started to turn around, but stopped at the low menace in Sarah's voice.

  "What the hell is wrong with you? We're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and you're worried about your floors? That's appalling even for you." Sarah was incredulous.

  Meredith sat on the sofa and flipped on the lamp on the end table. "What are you talking about? Have you finally gone completely over the edge to insanity?"

  "Oh my God. Are you trying to get us killed?" Sarah jumped for the light, nearly toppling it in her haste. She righted it and turned it off. "Just tell me where the phone is, I need to call the police. A couple of thugs are holding my sister hostage."

  "Your sis . . . I . . . I've no idea if you're crazy, or what's going on, but the phones are out. I've been asleep all day and tried to call Rudy just before you got here. I guess the storm took them out. I just checked. I forgot to charge my cellphone. You interrupted before I could plug it in." Her voice sounded weary.

  Sarah found the small flashlight on her key ring and turned the light on Meredith. She looked frail and gray, her hand pressed against her stomach. She had obviously been sick. Normally put together impeccably, she now looked unkempt; her pajamas wrinkled and sweat-stained, a scarf covered her head.

  "Are you okay, Mere?" She sat down next to Meredith, and appraised her co-worker.

  The woman grimaced, holding her hand up in front of her eyes. "Get that out of my face. And you know I hate when you call me that." Meredith's eyes focused on Sarah's wrist and she gasped. "What the hell? Why do you have a handcuff on? What have you done now?"

  Sarah sighed. "Look, we've got bigger things to worry about right now. I managed to get away from the guys who grabbed us, but I couldn't get Dana free. I have to help her. And if you haven't noticed, the world is going to hell without even the damn handbasket. Where's Rudy?"

  "In Chicago. He was supposed to be back last night, but he called and said flights were delayed and it'd be today. I haven't heard from him though and I'm worried." Concern marred her features. She looked more vulnerable than Sarah had ever seen her and older than her forty-two years.

  "I'm sure flights have been canceled until this . . . this epidemic is under control. But he's got guns, right? I know he does. You've talked about his collection. So where are they?" Sarah got up and brushed the wet hair off her face.

  "You're bleeding! Something really has happened, hasn't it?" Meredith struggled to get up and then swayed before finding her balance. Her gaze traveled over the rest of Sarah and the cuts and abrasions on her arms, the dots of blood on her T-shirt.

  Conflicting emotions warred within Sarah. She could
tell Meredith was really ill, but her sister was in danger. She needed help. And she needed it fast.

  "Meredith, please, tell me where the guns are. I really need to get back to my sister before they feed her to those monsters." Her voice broke. Just the thought of what they had threatened made her gag.

  "Feed her to—" Meredith looked at her for a few seconds and then moved off toward a room at the back of the house, reaching out for the wall every few feet. "I hope I don't regret this. Point your flashlight down this way."

  They entered a study and Meredith pressed a button hidden under a desk drawer. A panel slid open in one of the walls, a light switched on illuminating the contents. Sarah spun around and checked, but there were black-out curtains on the windows, so they were probably safe enough.

  Turning back, she gaped at the weapon stash. You've got to be freakin' kidding me. There were all kinds of firearms -- from handguns to assault rifles. She moved into the recessed area and picked up a Glock, removed the magazine, and found it loaded. She sent it home again and chambered a round. Different types of holsters took up one shelf. Sarah found one that would work and slid it over her shoulder. She gave thanks that her older cousin had been a gun aficionado and had passed along his knowledge as well as a self-defense education. He had made certain she and Dana knew how to protect themselves. She hoped he was okay. If anyone could survive a zombie apocalypse, it was Brian.

  She turned to face Meredith. "Which of these are you most comfortable with?"

  "Me? I don't know anything about guns. That's Rudy's thing —" She wobbled and grabbed her stomach. "Oh, God." Meredith staggered from the room and made her way to the bathroom a couple of doors down, with Sarah following. The door slammed in front of her, causing Sarah to jerk to a stop so she wouldn't crash into it. Retching sounds carried through the wooden barrier. She hesitated a few seconds before entering.