The Undead Chronicles_Book 1_Home and Back Again

by Patrick J. O'Brian

  Everyone kept the same driving arrangements as before once they made their way down to the vehicles, Samantha choosing to squeeze in between Luke and Vazquez rather than spend more time around Gracine. Metzger believed the girl might be intimidated by Sutton, influencing her decision. Jillian said little as the three vehicles pulled onto the highway, waiting a few miles before speaking to Metzger.

  “Do you regret helping them?”

  “No,” Metzger answered. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “Even though you could miss your brother?”

  “Just knowing he’s alive is enough for now,” Metzger said with a nod. “I know we’ll see each other again someday.”

  Metzger began noticing signs for Suffolk, knowing they were drawing close to the Hampton Roads area where multiple cities and counties comprised the natural harbor and metropolitan with Norfolk, acting as a hub of sorts. He knew travel was destined to become much worse because he wasn’t fortunate enough to have all of the zombies tumble into the local bays and rivers like lemmings. The same barricades that once protected the living now kept the undead safe from similar hazards.

  Thoughts of finding somewhere to settle in for the night crossed his mind, but Metzger wanted to spot a landmark first, to know he was close to his destination. They soon found themselves on Bridge Road, which was still technically Route 17, crossing nearly a mile over water to reach Suffolk on the other side. A two-lane road that provided one of several methods to cross into the Hampton Roads from the mainland, it didn’t provide any issues at first. Only a few cars were abandoned in this area, and getting around them didn’t prove problematic. Metzger knew gridlock anywhere along this lengthy bridge might prove dangerous for the group.

  Headlights and nothing else illuminated their way along the bridge. Clouds continued to obscure the moon and any stars in the sky, making it difficult to know what lie ahead. Eventually they reached the city limits of Suffolk, finding rather nice housing to their left as the road began to split into two sections comprised of two lanes each. They began passing businesses in the form of fast food restaurants, an occasional church, and some insurance agencies set within small plazas. Barely any undead occupied either side of the highway, likely attracted to the houses and local businesses with so few cars passing through. When Metzger saw a sign for a popular hotel chain ahead he flashed his bright lights to indicate he wanted to speak with Sutton.

  “What’s up?” Sutton asked when they pulled beside one another after Jillian rolled down her window for them to converse.

  “That hotel sounds like as good a place as any to crash for the night.”

  “What’s with the lack of rotters?” Gracine asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Metzger answered. “It’s kind of unnerving.”

  He looked down the road, not seeing much beyond the reach of their headlights.

  “I don’t think the hotel is much further,” Metzger added. “If we’re lucky they’ll have some fresh towels and hot water.”

  Sutton caught the joke, providing a rare smirk.

  “Hopefully the pool and hot tub are still open.”

  Metzger pulled ahead and took the lead, pulling into the hotel parking lot less than a mile down the road. It sat across the street from a rather large church on the same side of the highway, and the group finally spotted their first few undead stragglers milling around the area of both properties. A few abandoned vehicles remained in the parking lot, along with a large trash bin that indicated the hotel might have been in the midst of a remodel when things turned bad. The area showed no indications of lights or electricity, and any natural light from above remained suffocated by cloud cover as spatters of rain began dotting the windshield of the truck.

  Everyone parked in the center of the parking lot, prepared to examine the area before hiding the vehicles and settling in for the evening. As the group emerged from the trucks, they stretched while Buster walked to the edge of the parking lot to relieve himself in the closest grassy patch. Several turned on flashlights because natural lighting was absent on the dark, cloudy evening as clouds continued to pass overhead. Everyone grabbed their weapons and supplies before sauntering toward the entrance doors of the hotel, finding them intact from a distance. Metzger had nearly reached the glass doors when he heard a vocal groan from behind him, and then another. Within a second of the sound, Buster began growling to indicate danger wasn’t far away.

  Turning, he saw nothing in the black of night until Jillian shined her flashlight beam towards the open parking lot and the field beyond it. There, dangerously close to them, the group saw what had to be fifty pairs of yellowed eyes staring back at them, now fully aware that seven warm-blooded meals were within reach. A virtual wall of the undead stood motionless until the moment a light illuminated the way for them.

  “Shit,” Metzger muttered, knowing he’d made a mistake pulling into the lot and not sweeping beyond it with his headlights before parking.

  Exhaustion sometimes left people careless, even when their lives depended upon the utmost caution.

  With the vehicles too far away, he knew they’d get swarmed if they attempted to return to the trucks. The group’s only hope was to get inside the building, and fast, or the undead would dine well within a few minutes.

  Twenty-Five

  “We need to get inside,” Metzger stated the obvious. “Now!”

  Not since the Cessna’s impending crash had Metzger felt such an intense sensation of panic. From a glance behind him he detected everyone else in the group shared the sentiment, because most of them hadn’t seen a group of undead gathered like this in quite some time, or possibly ever.

  He and Vazquez motioned for everyone to head for the entrance door, hoping the doors weren’t locked, or worse, more danger awaited them inside. Luke scooped up Samantha while Jillian and Gracine ran ahead to test the doors. Sutton left his sidearm holstered, opting to take aim with the AR-15 he’d grabbed from the box truck. Since every single zombie was trudging their way the three men took aim and downed a few of them immediately, not concerned about drawing additional undead to their location at the moment.

  “The doors are locked!” Jillian proclaimed behind them.

  Due to the sheer number of zombies approaching them, the group needed to find cover. With their vehicles cut off by the herd, and only one way to run, they headed for the side of the building that faced the highway. Metzger waited as everyone darted for cover behind him, still taking aim at the incoming zombies with his .357, knowing he had two shots left. Vazquez took a final shot with his semi-automatic before falling back with the others, and Sutton continued to take aim with his rifle, thinning the herd slightly.

  “Go,” Sutton said calmly between shots, even as the undead closed within ten feet of them. “Buster!” he called during the brief silence, drawing the canine over to the group.

  Metzger warily looked around as he followed the others around the hotel, thinking what a nightmare it would be if they couldn’t access the building or get back to their vehicles. Surrounded by darkness except for flashlights held by Jillian and Luke, the group made their way along the doors, finding them all closed. A rogue zombie emerged from the darkness, groping at Luke and Samantha with a groan. Luke had his hands full holding a flashlight and Samantha, and the girl let out a shrill scream that pierced the calm night, likely heard for miles.

  Sutton was still behind the others, fighting off the undead as best he could, so Metzger took aim, blasting the zombie in the skull. Left with one bullet and no chance to reload his gun, he drew closer to the others, hoping for a safe exit soon.

  Given time to ponder the situation, he might have considered it similar to being in a staged haunted house around Halloween. It was almost completely dark, with no distinct path to follow, and a chance that someone might grab them in the darkness any given second. Only being grabbed in this scenario meant almost certain death because there wasn’t time to react when teeth were already diving toward exposed flesh.
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  Only one flashlight remained lit for fear that the undead might follow the light, and thus, the group, wherever they went. Metzger held onto a sleeve from someone one second, and the next he found himself completely separated from his friends, the hotel, and any sense of shelter. He froze, knelt down on the ground, listening for the throaty growls of the undead or salvation in the form of a sign from the others. Touching the front right pocket of his blue jeans, Metzger felt the tiny flashlight he kept in there for emergencies. It wasn’t very reliable, often blinking or going out temporarily from any bump that rattled its cheap innards.

  Whether or not zombies possessed a better sense of smell than the living still eluded Metzger, but he figured it wasn’t good enough to detect him in the dark like a tracking dog.

  He heard panicked, muffled cries from the individuals traveling with him, knowing they dared not call out to him, or reveal their location because a few dozen undead were also waiting for a sign. Feeling around the ground for something useful, Metzger managed to grab a rock about the size of his fist in the darkness. Hurling it in the direction of the parking lot, he hoped it would make some noise and distract the zombies long enough for everyone to find cover.

  Skipping a few times, cracking against the concrete, the rock finally made a clanking sound as it likely struck a hubcap. Metzger listened as the zombies, easily distracted creatures, turned toward the noise as their groans slowly grew more distant. With every passing second, however, he felt more and more isolated and alone, trying to keep from breathing because he feared a zombie might hear him in the dark and chomp into his shoulder, or his arm, before he even knew it was upon him.

  Not breathing felt incredibly difficult as his heart pounded what seemed like a hundred beats a minute as his adrenaline kept him focused on his surroundings, even if he couldn’t see them at the moment.

  Somewhat reassured the undead were reaching the edge of the parking lot, a safe distance away, he reached for his flashlight to use sparingly just to locate the hotel. He couldn’t believe how pitch black the night remained as clouds obscured everything in the sky. How so much cloud cover shut out the stars and moon without pouring down rain eluded him. Taking hold of the flashlight, Metzger was about to click it on for only a second when something brushed his shoulder.

  Giving an involuntary yelp, he jumped to one side, but the hand that found his shoulder wasn’t cold or coarse like one covered in dirt and blood.

  “Come on,” Jillian whispered, not letting go of his shoulder as she used her own flashlight sparingly to lead them back to the hotel.

  Between blinks of the flashlight beam he could see the hotel walls, and then a set of stairs that led to the second level, safely tucked between two solid walls. The undead didn’t manage stairs particularly well, and considering these turned directions twice before coming out on the balcony of the second level, none were able to track the group’s movements to follow in the dark.

  “Well this is fucking awesome,” Sutton said sarcastically, staring at a door that required an electronic keycard.

  And electricity.

  “Can we kick it in?” Luke asked from nearby.

  At this point only Luke kept his flashlight on, with Samantha only a few steps away from him.

  “Fat chance,” Sutton replied. “These door frames will have metal in them. We’ll need a pry bar or something heavy enough to ram it through.”

  “Or we could break the windows,” Gracine suggested, holding up a small tool less than two inches in length.

  “What’s that?” Jillian asked, still looking behind her and Metzger as though a zombie might make it up the stairs any second to attack them.

  “It’s a window punch,” Gracine answered. “Firefighters use them to get trapped people out of cars. In my line of work I always carried one because it also has a seatbelt cutter on it.”

  “Didn’t you drive a truck?” Luke asked.

  “I seen some crazy shit on the road, mister.”

  Luke shrugged.

  “If we don’t mess up the whole window, maybe we can put Samantha through there to unlock the door,” he suggested.

  “And put her in danger?” Jillian asked with surprise.

  “If they don’t come when we knock on a door or bust a window, they ain’t coming, honey,” Gracine answered for Luke.

  Metzger thought a bed sounded like heaven after their long day on the road, and at the church, but nothing ever came easily. It required several minutes for Gracine to decide the best place to break the glass to avoid maximum damage but leave enough space for Samantha to fit through. She finally took out a lower corner, small enough for a child, but not for adults or the undead. The group swept a flashlight beam inside seeing no danger, and Sutton even reached inside to knock on the wall a few times, but nothing emerged from the bathroom area. He tried reaching the door’s lock, discovering it was too far away for his fingers to reach.

  Luke handed Samantha a flashlight and gave her simple, straightforward instructions about how to climb inside and turn the lock. He didn’t mention the door guard bar because it seemed unlikely someone locked themselves into the room, and it couldn’t be locked otherwise. Samantha didn’t seem to mind, and Luke played it off like a quick adventure for her. Metzger assumed Luke and Albert kept it light for Samantha, trying to play games and adventures with her when possible to keep her mind off the deadly world just outside their beautiful home.

  Samantha navigated the door with minimal trouble, and Sutton allowed Luke to reach inside and grab her before sweeping the room for hidden dangers. He checked the bathroom and beneath the bed, finding no issues, so he opened the door along the wall to the adjoining room, quickly clearing it as well.

  Everyone else stood watch along the balcony. The clouds parted momentarily, allowing them to see the undead milling around the parking lot below. None of them had spotted the group above them, fortunately, so everyone tried to remain quiet.

  “We need one more set of rooms if we want a comfortable stay,” Sutton suggested when he returned to the group.

  “We’re safer together,” Gracine suggested emphatically, almost as though she expected Sutton to bolt in the middle of the night.

  Metzger could have cared less if they slept stacked atop one another at the moment. His eyelids felt droopy, and he fought to keep vigilant watch over the nearby danger. Once the adrenaline surge from being alone in the dark passed, his body felt spent. Being in the cool, fresh air only added to the factors making him sleepy and ready for a good night’s sleep. Besides, the sooner he rested up, the sooner morning came, along with the possibility of finding Bryce.

  Sutton didn’t give in to Gracine’s wishes, and as the two held a debate in whispers on the balcony, Metzger checked inside the first room. He sighed in relief, finding the room pristine, almost as though it was made the morning everything fell apart and left that way. Part of him wondered why the hotel hadn’t been ransacked, but he supposed lots of other options were available, and people were either heading toward the Navy base with hopes of rescue, or getting the hell out of town.

  Growing tired of arguing, Gracine gave in first, and carefully punched a hole in the window two doors down from the first to get the group two more adjoining rooms. Again they looked inside and banged on the wall before sending Samantha inside, and again she came through, opening the door and allowing the adults inside to clear two more rooms for immediate use.

  So far as Metzger could tell, Gracine stayed with Sutton, possibly to monitor him, Luke shared a room with Samantha, and Vazquez got a room to himself because Jillian opted to stay with Metzger. After setting his gear on the floor beside the bed, Metzger looked between the single king-size bed and Jillian.

  “I can sleep on the floor,” he offered.

  Jillian tilted her head slightly as though surprised at him.

  “I was thinking we could share the bed,” she said.

  In part due to his grogginess, Metzger didn’t immediately catch her drift, but w
hen she walked over and grabbed both sides of his head to plant a long kiss on his lips, he moaned slightly, catching on. She released him after about five seconds, and Metzger could already feel the infant stages of an erection within his pants. He grabbed her, running a hand through her hair before pulling her in for another long kiss, knowing both of them needed this release, even if it was simply a one-night stand.

  “Wait,” he said when their lips parted, diving down into the pack he’d brought that contained his swords and some other items.

  He dug through the pack until he found his wallet, pulling it out and flipping it open to reveal the object of his search. Jillian smiled when he pulled a wrapped condom from inside the wallet.

  “And they say chivalry is dead,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I was keeping it in case a situation ever arose,” he revealed, kissing her once again as they began removing one another’s clothing.

  Assured the door was closed, and Vazquez wouldn’t come barging in from next door, they tried to keep their foreplay quiet, leading into a brief night that neither would forget for quite some time.

  ***

  Metzger found himself back in his classroom in Ohio in his next conscious thought. Daylight streamed through the windows, the floor and desks looked spotless from the custodial staff’s overnight work, and Metzger sat behind his desk during his prep period doing paperwork. He referred to his break from the students as a prep period, but they were actually in physical education class for the better part of an hour. For some reason the hallways were dead quiet, and he sat alone in his classroom while the students romped about elsewhere.