The Rabid Mind Two

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  THE RABID MIND

  BOOK TWO.

  ISBN-13:

  978-1542748353

  ISBN-10:

  1542748356

  Copyright © 2017 Bruce “Buckshot” Hemming

  Copyright © All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, for profit or gain by sale, trade, barter, or otherwise © without the expressed and prior permission of authors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The reader bears all responsibility associated with the use of the information contained in this book, including those risks associated with reliance of the accuracy, thoroughness or appropriateness of the information for any situation represented.

  The authors and publishers specifically disclaim all responsibility from any prosecution or proceedings brought or instituted against any person or body for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, which is incurred as a consequence of the use or misuse and application of any of the contents of this book.

  The Rabid Mind II

  By

  Bruce “Buckshot” Hemming

  Other books from the author:

  Grid Down Reality Bites

  Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 1

  Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 2

  Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 3

  Grid Down The New Reality Volume 3

  The Rabid Mind

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 Crash and Burn

  Chapter 2 New Friends

  Chapter 3 Friend or enemy

  Chapter 4 Paradise lost

  Chapter 5 Fight or flight

  Chapter 6 Death to the Invaders

  Chapter 7 Double K

  Chapter 8 Losing a friend

  Chapter 9 New Trucks

  Chapter 10 Hunted

  Chapter 11 Contact

  Chapter 12 The cult

  Chapter 13 Ambush

  Chapter 14 Reunion

  Chapter 15 Jealous

  Chapter 16 The hive

  Chapter 17 Retreat

  Chapter 18 Battle Stations

  Chapter 19 Sacrifice

  Chapter 20 Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  He scanned the area, all his senses incredibly heightened, an effect of the virus, albeit, one, less gruesome than the rest. Smoke! Coming from a nearby house. What was that sound? Was that laughter? What did they have to laugh about? Idiots, they’d make for a good dinner. The fact that he still retained coherent thought was a miracle by its own rights, although, mere coherent thought wasn’t what he had been going for. At least, he didn’t think so. He couldn’t really remember. He only knew that things had not worked out the way he’d planned. His mind wandered back to the days before the world literally turned to shit, it came back in shards, sometimes the images would be clear, but most times, all he got was a migraine for all his efforts. His part to play in this apocalypse could most aptly be described as integral, and yet, here he was, a victim of his own pitfall, subject to cravings he could neither control nor understand. The anger, as irrational as it was overwhelming was never far away, it was always there, at the back of his mind, making his brain pound, gearing him towards one singular goal. Destroy! Maim! Kill! The need to kill was beyond primal, the craving, basically an entity of its own, sentient and in total control of its host, edging them onwards, all consuming, never satisfied. A snarl came from his left and he snarled back in reply, making the former cringe and retreat to the back of the group. Savages, he thought, the irony not totally lost on him, for he was every bit as savage as they were, with one major difference, they didn’t have the burden of conscience. A real burden it was, because while they were total slaves to their cravings and instincts as much as he, they also didn’t feel a thing when they committed acts of savagery, while on the other hand, he did. Every life he’d taken since the nightmare began, every scream he’d silenced with a fatal blow, every drop of blood he’d drunk, all weighed heavily on his still present conscience. Therein lay his ultimate punishment, because he was both unable and to a small extent, unwilling to act on the guilt.

  He looked back at his group, they were awaiting his instructions. For whatever reasons, they obeyed him. They followed his grunts and snarls and responded. If not for him, that family with the bombs would have destroyed them, the mindless beasts would have kept on attacking, while availing themselves to be easy pickings for the family. Retreating had been the only way out, and even then, he had come up with it too late both times, resulting in the loss of a lot of them. The rage apparently came with a default stubbornness of its own, bordering on foolhardiness, if not, he would have seen the futility of their attempts earlier and reacted to mitigate losses.

  No matter though, they’d succeeded in driving them out of their fort of solitude at least, that was a small win amidst an abysmal loss, and anyways, their numbers would grow again, it always did. He just hoped he wouldn’t run into that lot again. Winter was coming, and he had to move his herd towards Mexico if they were to get through it. Without his guidance, they simply wouldn’t survive. His subordinates were starting to scratch at his back and legs, because, in as much as they followed him, being so close to a potential meal had a way of eroding whatever loyalty they felt towards him, and he was, in a manner of speaking, holding them back. He breathed in deeply

  Then he had a flashback

  He was in an accident. He got out of the car, cursing the man who had run into him. Stupid fool could not watch where he was going. Fucking riots. Fucking ALF. He was just tired of it all. He went over to the car and checked the man.

  Dead.

  Good. That would teach him to drive without looking. He imagined what Martha would say if she’d heard him say that.

  Martha! He had to get to her.

  The flashback ended then. His head pounded, and he looked round at his horde, slowly growing impatient. He took a deep breath and listened again. More laughter. He turned and gave an onwards gesture accompanied with corresponding snarls and grunts, and then, reorienting himself, started towards the unsuspecting survivors. A tiny pang of guilt nudged somewhere in his subconscious, but it was dulled by the primal instincts which had taken over. With a loud, blood curdling scream, they attacked the house.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Crash and Burn.

  Sandra watched Matt wolf down his breakfast, a tiny smile playing around her lips, it was always such a turn on to see how much he enjoyed her cooking. His appetite amazed her, and she reckoned if not for the strenuous work the slave driver made him do, he’d be terribly out of shape. She chuckled at her usage of “slave driver”, attracting his attention in the process,

  “What?” he asked between mouthfuls

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied, then playfully added, “Don’t talk with your mouth full young man”

  “Sorry,” he replied mock-sheepishly, and went on to finish his food while she returned to her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the night before, the cockroach had startled her, more than she cared to admit, as it brushed against her belly, and her sudden gasp had set Matt in full defensive mode. As the cockroach scurried back to one of its hiding spots, they’d both just stood there, and then Matt had burst out laughing,


  “Oh, Sandra, what are the odds? Big, bad ‘loco’ killer, scared by a cockroach? And look, you’ve even got me here, pointing a gun at the tiny thing, overkill much my love?” he’d teased

  She’d tossed her pillow at him and then joined in his laughter, she was on edge, more than usual, she just couldn’t help worrying about her dad, and her frustration at the numerous ‘what if’ scenarios her mind kept conjuring up without a definite answer made her upset and jumpy. She just couldn’t shake the feeling, she loved that man, he was all she had left in the way of family and she just simply couldn’t stand to lose him now. No, not now.

  Matt’s voice sounded far off as he called her name, “Sandra? Sandra. Hey, were you even listening to me?”

  She shook her head and replied in the negative, she hadn’t even realized he was talking to her, so was the extent of her worry, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked and averted her eyes at the look of concern on Matt’s face,

  “Jim’s going to be fine,” he said, “He’s a tough old man, and Debbie’s badass to boot. They’ll both return to us. I actually pity any infected they run into. Did you see that CRV? It’s like straight out of mad max. Cheer up, remember, we have a big day ahead of us, we need to get supplies to redo the fence and rebar pikes, and then, there’s the shooting hole issue” Getting up, he walked to her, and made her stand, facing him “Jim and Debbie will be fine, now we need to do our part and ensure they have a fully fortified house to come back to okay? Trust me, worrying never solved anything.” He hugged her, and kissed her forehead.

  “I’ll go get the truck ready, grab the gear, lock up tight and meet me outside in five, hopefully we won’t run into any cockroaches on this trip.” He teased, grabbing an SKS, he went outside to start the truck. By the time, they were ready to move, Sandra was feeling much better, although the nagging thoughts and feeling of foreboding remained. She’d managed to shove them to the far recesses of her mind, far enough so she could focus on the mission. Securing the house was important, and working on getting it done would provide ample distraction for her worried mind.

  They got to town and Matt turned to her. “You okay? You know what you need to get right?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m fine. I’ll look for food supplies, ammo and such while you seek out the rebar, nails and stuff, I’ve got it.” She replied with a smile.

  “Okay, good” then leaning over and kissing her, he added, “be careful out there”.

  They got out and headed in opposite directions. Sandra walked into the first store she saw and, unsurprisingly, found it almost totally looted, save for some rotten fruit and vegetables, as well as some cans of beans and packets of coffee, which she quickly picked up. Taking one more perfunctory look around, her eyes caught a box of cigarettes partially hidden under a shelf, she picked it up and contemplated taking it along for her father. She thought about how the toll they took on his lungs affected his ability to run for long distances. Not to mention health risks, in this new world they found themselves in, speed could save or lack of could end your life. She tossed them in the corner before exiting the store.

  The weather had taken a turn and dark clouds hovered above, an indication of a probable heavy rainfall. They had to hurry. She spotted Matt, briskly walking towards her from the direction of the truck, he was yelling something and pointing. But a strong wind had started, and his words were thrown all over the place, making it hard for her to hear him. Suddenly he lifted his gun and shot at her, she heard the bullet whizz by and a dull thump come from behind her, she turned and saw an infected with its head blown off. From the store she’d just exited, a group of about thirty members strong were pouring out in a mad race towards her. She turned and took off towards the truck as Matt took shots at them, dropping those closest to her. Turning, he jumped into the vehicle and opened the door for her to jump in, while simultaneously starting the truck and putting it in gear. Two infected jumped onto the truck and started banging on the roof. Aiming upwards, Sandra shot twice, and, instant quiet from that direction and two satisfying thuds on either side of the truck, confirmed their detachment. Their ears were ringing badly.

  Matt yelled more so he could hear himself. “Don’t shoot inside the vehicle, you trying to make us deaf?”

  Sandra yelled back. “What I can’t hear you, my ears are ringing.” She smiled. “Sorry, that wasn’t very smart.”

  Matt floored the gas as the group of infected raced after them, but he was well aware of their resilience in pursuit and looked back to confirm their escape. In that brief moment, he veered off to the left, just a little too far.

  Sandra screamed “Matt, look out!!!”

  He turned back just in time to avoid crashing into an upended car, but he still was not in control and the truck lunged to the right, climbed a pavement, and as Matt struggled to regain control, the truck slowly tipped over to its side, and skidded towards a wall before stopping short of a collision with it.

  A light drizzle had started. Matt looked over at Sandra, she wasn’t moving. Matt kicked out the windshield and crawled out. He called her name twice but she only groaned in reply, visibly disoriented from the crash. Relieved that she was at least conscious, he reached in and pulled her out. Looking up, he saw the infected were quickly closing the gap between them. The rain was gathering steam and would hopefully throw them off their scent and cover their tracks but they had to act fast. He hooked an arm over her shoulder for support and held her backpack in his other hand, his was already on his back. Together they quickly limped into the nearest house and shut the door behind them, Matt lay her on the couch gently, and quickly retrieving his rifle, went and stood beside the window in preparation for the worst. It never came though, the mini hive of infected merely ran past their hiding place. The rain made it hard for them to smell their quarry. Once they were gone, Matt let out a sigh of relief, and rushed to the couch where Sandra lay. A quick once over revealed she had just a few bruises aside from the cut on her head which was bleeding mildly. He quickly retrieved her pack and got out the first aid kit. Placing gauze and applied pressure for a bit to stop the bleeding. Adding an adhesive bandage and covered it up. Time to secure the house. Making sure they were locked in tight. He pulled the shades on the windows, making sure none of the infected could see them moving around. Nothing they could now but wait out the rain.

  Outside, the rain fell hard, with no indication of letting up soon.

  ***

  The horde of infected were almost inside, shit!! Matt reloaded his gun, took aim and shot one who poked his head in through the window, he could hear the others banging away at the other window, and the door. Sandra picked off two others who poked in through the second window. The door hinges shifted and suddenly the door was thrown inwards as the infected poured in by the hundreds. Matt and Sandra were surrounded and running out of ammo. Suddenly, beside him, Sandra screamed as one of the infected sunk its teeth into her arm. Putting her gun to its head, she pulled the trigger, blowing his head to bits. She held her bleeding arm in agony and right there and then, her features contorted into a rage filled expression and lifting her head towards him, she lunged at him, but in one fluid motion, he moved to the side allowing her sail past. What just happened?? He couldn’t remember the effects of the virus manifesting so fast, shit! Sandra was now one of them?? He picked off the two nearest to him, and suddenly all was quiet. Sandra got up as two more infected walked in. Matt was caught off guard as he realized he recognized them. Jim and Debbie!! What exactly was happening?? First Sandra, now Jim and Debbie?? This didn’t make sense. The three of them, Jim, Debbie and Sandra now stood in a line advancing towards him, somehow, the other infected had vanished from the room and he was alone with just them. “What Matt? Don’t you love me anymore?” Sandra said as she advanced, and she started to tear at her clothes, savagely undressing in front of him. No! Stop! This couldn’t be happening, how? He lifted his rifle and shot at her,
but all he heard was a click. He was out of ammo. Sandra threw her head up and laughed sinisterly, Jim and Debbie joined in, and together, the three of them pounced on him as he raised his hands in meager defense.

  ***

  Matt woke up with a start. He didn’t realize he’d dozed off. For a minute he sat in silence while his eyes adjusted, trying to take in his surroundings and recall where he was. The house. It came back to him. So that was all a dream?? He thought in relief, and suddenly heard murmuring and low whimpers beside him. He turned and looked at Sandra, she seemed to be having a bad dream, so he gently shook her awake, and when she opened her eyes, they shone with unshed tears, and suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him tight

  “Oh Matt, I had the most horrible dream.” She said

  “Yup, seems to be a lot of those going around today.” He said and hugged her back.

  At her quizzical look, he added, “I had a not so pleasant one myself, I guess it’s the shock of the accident we just had”. She nodded in affirmation and he got up and looked outside through a little space between the boards covering the windows. The rain had stopped, but, it was dark outside. So going home was still out of the question for now. They were going to have to spend the night. Luckily, he thought, they always went out prepared for eventualities like this. He sat back down beside her. Tomorrow, they’d assess the damage to the truck. He reckoned they’d have to find a new car, with any luck, another truck, they could always siphon the gas from their own into the new one. Then they’d drive home to plan their next trip into town, the fence had to be put up quickly, and he still needed to find rebar, and a means of cutting them to size. Tomorrow will take care of all that he thought, with a note of finality. For now, they needed something to eat.

  CHAPTER TWO