Wicked Series: Wicked [Novel]

by John Macallen Davis

  “Nobody drinks the blue side, old man.” A.K. said.

  “More for me.” Murphy said.

  Standing upright, the old man used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe blue syrup from his mouth. It tasted just like he remembered.

  “So much for being too good to be true.” Pam whispered.

  Sure enough, the firearms department had been heavily looted. Their feet crunched softly against broken glass, while the showcases were all busted out. There were no firearms to be had and very little ammunition. Most of it lay on the floor in loose pieces.

  “Shit.” Rudy cursed.

  “It's OK. We need a whole lot more than guns.” Lamar said.

  “Yea,” Rudy said, exhaling a sigh. “Stay close.”

  The large store was quiet. A little too quiet for their liking.

  “OK, I'd suggest grabbing a gear bag and then filling it with other gear bags.” Lamar said. Much to Rudy's surprise.

  “Why?”

  “They'd be light to carry and bags are one thing we'll always need, no matter what. It looks like the looters have passed them by.”

  And they had, along with plenty of other vital items of survival. Sure, the place had been ransacked of its guns and readily available food, but the looting had been done in a panic. Either that, or those who'd thieved knew absolutely nothing about long term survival, which was typical in today's smartphone society.

  “They'll be a bitch to carry, but if we can get two decent tents. One for the women and one for the men.”

  “Four men in one tent?” Rudy asked.

  “No, two men. The other two can pull watch.” Lamar said.

  “Yea,” Rudy said. Suddenly realizing Lamar's worth to the group. What he lacked in muscle, Lamar more than made up for in planning. He knew what he was doing. “You just keep pointing out what we need and I'll go grab it and bring it back here. Then we'll do what we can to pack mule it out.”

  Over the course of the next hour, the group quietly gathered supplies that they would need. Bowie knives; a couple of first aid kits; a survival ax; a small satchel filled with windproof lighters; water filtration jugs; sleeping bags and a large backpack filled with random items that both Rudy and Pam deemed important.

  Finally, Rudy removed his small military-issued binoculars and replaced them with a much larger, fancier set. Standing tall, like a proud father.

  “Wait,” Pam whispered. “I saw something move.”

  Each of them ducked their heads down and remained silent. Lamar scanned the departments around them with a hunting scope, while Rudy had the chance to use his binoculars much sooner than he'd expected.

  “I don't see anything.” Lamar said.

  “Me either.” Rudy confirmed.

  “Something moved. I'm telling you I saw it.”

  ** **

  “Anything?” Derick asked.

  Carlos lay prone on the hill of thick brush that overlooked the sporting goods superstore. Shaking his head.

  “Nothing.”

  “Keep an eye out, just in case they need our help.”

  Carlos nodded. He'd planned to.

  “How about you,” Derick began. Taking a seat near Lisa. Her knees were at a slight bend, draped with her arms. “Are you OK?”

  “No.” she admitted.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.,” she said, cutting a glance his way.

  “OK, well-” he began to stand.

  “Wait,” Lisa said quickly. “I'm sorry. Everything is just pressing on me at once, I guess. The wicked; the end of my life as I know it-”

  “It's pressing on all of us,” Derick smiled. “I feel an obligation to be out there helping people breathe.”

  Lisa began laughing quietly.

  “It's as interesting as it sounds,” Derick added. “You get to visit all of today's hottest nursing homes and sometimes even visit people in the hospital who don't want you there. All of the times I've been cursed at... usually by smokers.”

  “Please.” Lisa said. Trying to stop laughing.

  “It's my own fault,” he admitted. “I could have gone to college or something, but I couldn't get my mind off of high school football. I always imagined myself an NFL quarterback one day, you know?”

  “They're horrible.” she replied.

  “This is true.”

  “Believe me, going to college doesn't guarantee anything,” Lisa admitted. “The life of a banker is rather boring.”

  “But you guys attend the parties, right?” Derick asked. “I saw that on television once. Those fancy parties.”

  “Upscale parties that no one really wants to attend? Yea. We also get to attend business trips that lead to the zombie apocalypse. Just for the record.”

  “What's this? Wit?” he asked with a grin. “I like it.”

  As the words left his lips, an infected pounced from the surrounding brush and knocked him to the ground. Derick tried his best to keep the creature back. He gripped the dead man's wrists and pushed away, finding that the zombie weighed quite a bit more than the average oxygen tank.

  “Shit.” Derick managed to say between grunts of struggle.

  “There's more!” Lisa cried out.

  “What?” Derick asked. Tilting his head, he caught sight of at least a dozen of the infected rots. They were stumbling, but closing in. “Oh no.”

  He hadn't grown up in one of the rougher Charlotte neighborhoods and survived, only to die like this. The infected on top of him snarled its teeth. Doing what it could to close the deal and begin its feast. Moments ago, he'd been outmatched. Now, with his life on the line, he mustered up Herculean strength.

  With a loud grunt, Derick leaned forward quickly and smashed his forehead into the wicked's face. Rather than flinching away as Derick had hoped – the zombie kept coming. More determined than ever to kill the living sack of meat.

  Suddenly, its eyes went completely dead.

  “Up,” Carlos said. Forcefully pulling his blade from the infected's skull. Brain fragments sprayed against his shirt in the process. “We need to move!”

  No convincing needed to take place. Derick dug his fingers into the ground behind him and pushed himself to his feet. He immediately jumped back to the hard ground as Lisa fired her revolver. Her gun hand swayed like crabgrass during a thunderstorm and he'd no intention of being shot.

  “Wish you wouldn't have done that.” Carlos said.

  Lisa looked at him with uncertainty.

  Soon after, distant howls cut loose. Her gunshot had been heard from miles around and the dead would surely converge on their position.

  “We need to go inside!” Carlos yelled.

  Sure enough, dozens of dead began to shuffle in around them. Firing shots into the crowd would only delay the inevitable; running like hell was now their only option.

  “We don't know if the first group is-” Derick began.

  “No choice.” Carlos said.

  He was the first to rush down the rugged hill of loose stones and patchy grass. Carlos used his blade as best he could, only firing his 9mm when the dead were a little further off. Hundreds of staggering bodies now came at them from every direction.

  “Stay close.” Derick shouted.

  He grabbed Lisa's hand out of instinct. She didn't pull back in the least. It felt good to have someone take care of her during the end of days.

  ** **

  “Was that a gunshot?” Pam asked.

  “Yea, but we've got bigger problems right now.” Rudy admitted.

  They were huddled inside of an elevator – its steel doors were holding up to the rabid pounding of at least a dozen fists. The infected had found them. Having trapped them inside the elevator.

  “At least we can see what's going on.” Lamar said.

  The elevator, while very small, was elegant by shopping standards. Very tough on the front and its back was made of solid glass. Thank God they were trapped on the top floor and not the bottom, otherwise, the infected could have easily shatter
ed their way to fresh meat.

  “Not gonna matter. There's only one way out of this death trap and that's through the doors in front of us.” Rudy said.

  “Wait,” Lamar said. “Look!”

  He first saw Carlos running inside with his back to the door. He fired several shots, allowing just enough time for Derick and Lisa to rush in.

  “Hey!” Pam began to beat on the glass at the back of their elevator.

  “Pam,” Rudy said. “The noise is pissing our guests off.”

  With every single pound of her fist against the glass, the zombies at the elevator door stirred louder, like hornets being taunted on a hot July afternoon.

  Finally, her work paid off.

  Carlos spotted her and pointed, but they had no time to spare. A long line of infected was at their heels and closing fast.

  “Watch out.” Rudy said.

  Without any more warning, he slammed the butt of his rifle into the glass. Shattering it down to the floor level below them and drawing attention from everyone below, including the infected – momentarily.

  “Carlos, grab a radio and get into that office!” Rudy shouted. It was a last-ditch effort in every way possible.

  Immediately, he began firing off well-placed shots. Giving the second group a bit of breathing room. He watched as Carlos snatched a pack of walkie talkies from the wall nearby, then ushering Lisa and Derick into a nearby office. It had been a firearms counter once. The guns were long gone, but the office was still intact. A steel door – nothing more. Slamming the door behind them, the group disappeared.

  “Now what?” Lamar asked.

  “Dig through those bags. I grabbed several walkies.”

  Lamar rummaged through the bags like a starving man digging into suspicious groceries. Finally pulling a bright orange walkie out and checking for batteries.

  “Of all the luck.”

  “It's not luck,” Rudy said. “I grabbed the higher end models. They always come with batteries whereas the cheaper brands cut costs.”

  “But which channel?” Pam asked.

  “There are only ten channels on this particular brand,” Rudy nodded. “We keep trying until we get them on one of the channels.”

  “Good thinking.” she admitted.

  ** **

  “It gets worse at night.” Tommy said.

  He'd spent most of the afternoon crouched in his spot at the rear of the store, while Murphy and A.K. had watched the streets outside. But as the shadows began growing long – Tommy came to join them. Watching the sunset.

  “Define worse.” A.K. said.

  “During the day, many of the infected stay away from the sunlight. It hurts my eyes to be in the sun and I can only imagine how it feels on the fully-infected.”

  “And when the sun goes down-” Murphy said.

  “When the sun goes down they come out in droves.”

  “Great.” A.K. said.

  “There is a way,” Tommy replied. “I've stayed here but wandered around a bit. Especially after realizing they've no interest in my flesh.”

  “I'm listening.” A.K. waited for more.

  “There's a ladder on the back of this building. It's locked, but the key should be here somewhere.”

  “He didn't need to say anything more. As dead howls began filling the streets around them, Murphy knelt and searched the dead cashier's pockets. Nothing.”

  “Shit.” Murphy said.

  “Keep looking,” A.K. replied. “Under the counter – everywhere.”

  “Why don't you lift a finger or two and help.” Murphy bitched.

  “You fucking slushy drinking-” A.K. grumbled. Seeming aggravated by the thoughts of having to get his hands dirty.

  As Tommy watched, he quickly understood which of the two men who was their leader. They were a scruffy duo. And a mouthy one, too.

  “Here.” A.K. said. Holding a bronze key high in the air and staring the old man down for a moment.

  Murphy wasted no time. Scurrying out into the street like a cowardly rat jumping ship for something better.

  “After you.” Tommy said with a grin.

  A.K. nodded, though he didn't trust the half-infected man in the least. He'd either prove himself valuable to the two men or he'd die by the end of a rifle. A.K. hadn't decided which yet, but he was at peace with either outcome.

  Hoisting his rifle to one shoulder, the former prison guard followed Murphy out. The dead were thick in the streets and began sprinting towards them.

  “You sure this is the right key?” Murphy asked.

  They approached the ladder which led to the store's roof. Indeed, there was a steel grating covering it – locked tight.

  “I mean it could be a key for anything,” Murphy said. “The laundry room of his apartment complex. A car down the block that's two decades old-”

  Click.

  “Or it could be the key we need,” A.K. said. Swinging the steel grating over. “Now carry your ass, old man.”

  Murphy was the first up and his age never showed. Men tended not to slow down when screams of starving dead approached them. Next up was A.K. and then, finally, Tommy made his way up. Stopping halfway to swing the metal grating back to its closed position and clamping the lock down.

  Chapter 5

  “Go ahead.” Rudy said.

  He spoke into his walkie, gripping the small device tight. He, Lamar and Pam watched from the back of their elevator. Dozens of wicked did everything in their power to smash through the steel door which tucked the other survivors away safely.

  “Thank God.” Lisa's voice replied.

  It was shaky – she was no doubt terrified.

  “Lisa-” Pam said. Taking the walkie from Rudy's grip with a nod of appreciation. “Lisa, it's OK. We can see you guys from here. There are a lot of infected on the outside, but they can't get through.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Because they would have smashed their way through already. The door is solid enough to hold them back. You're safe.”

  She waited for her reply. Listening to the slight hum of static as he watched on from above them. Trapped in his own living hell. Finally, Carlos was the one to reply. Taking a moment to breathe.

  “What now?”

  Rudy took the walkie back. Trying to formulate some type of plan in his head. If nothing more, he needed to offer them hope.

  “I'll figure out something,” Rudy said. Unconvinced himself. “There are a lot of infected here. A small horde at your door and at least a dozen trying to get into this elevator. The good news is that we all made it to a safe location. The bad news, of course, is that this store is crawling with infected now. The gunshots really drew them in.”

  “We got overrun,” Carlos admitted. “I dunno, they came at us from every direction. We really didn't have a choice in the-”

  “It's not your fault,” Rudy said. “We would have done the same. But in the meantime, we need to conserve everything we have, including these batteries. Most offices have a clock. If you do, we can communicate each morning around seven. I can see a large clock off against the wall behind us. If you can see us waving our arms at you, turn your radio on, too.”

  “Yea, we have a clock. How long are we going to be here?” Carlos asked. Beginning to think about the things they needed most – like food.

  “I'm not sure, but it may be a while,” Rudy admitted. “You guys need to get as comfortable as you can and barricade the door what whatever you have, just in case. We'll talk again at daybreak.”

  “Copy.” Carlos' voice said.

  Moments later, Rudy turned his small walkie off and looked down at his stranded group of men for several moments.

  “What are you thinking?” Pam asked.

  Rudy continued to look down below, staying quiet. Darkness settled into the hills around them and the store became equally as dark. Enveloped in shadows.

  “I don't see any way out,” Lamar admitted.

  “There's always a way,” Rudy final
ly answered. “I just don't know what it is yet. We're trapped in an elevator, but we're safe. We can't stay here, though. Eventually, the survival pouches of food we snatched up will run out. Eventually, any water we have will go dry. We need to figure out a way to get out of this store, but I can't put anything together in total darkness.”

  “You need to sleep,” Pam said. “You probably haven't slept in days. Lamar and I can trade watch tonight. I mean we're locked up tight, we'll be fine.”

  “I don't want to-”

  “Rudy, get some sleep,” Pam insisted. “You look like shit.”

  Rudy nodded. As he eased himself down into one of the elevator's corners, placing his arms across his knees, the former pilot breathed a sigh of exhaustion.

  “Make sure I'm awake come sunup.”

  “OK,” Pam said.

  “Do you really think they're OK?” Lamar asked.

  “The zombies can't get 'em, if that's what you mean,” Rudy looked at him with worry. “But they don't have the foil pouches of ready to eat food. They're going to run out of resources really quick. They're probably hungry right now. None of us have eaten since yesterday. I can only imagine what they're going through.”

  “God I haven't eaten like this in days.” Lisa admitted.

  They'd barricaded themselves into the office and quickly found it to be more of an employee lounge. A decently-stitched gray couch sat against one wall, with two snack machines, a soda machine and industrial trashcan against the other. They even had access to a restroom and a good coffee maker, which Derick found joy in.

  “I know,” he smiled. Watching her eat a bag of greasy chips and a snack cake together as if it were apocalyptic lasagna. “This coffee tastes really good. I mean it's bad coffee. Some of the worst I've had, actually. But to a guy who drinks a lot of coffee – I'm grateful.”

  “Just go sparingly on what we have,” Carlos cautioned. “Tomorrow we'll work on getting everything out of the machines and into one of our sacks, just in case we need to run fast.”