The Infected (Book 5): Battleground

by Zuko, Joseph

  Damn it, there’s no way we can leave Desiree here.

  Which meant dear old Dad was coming too.

  Shit balls!

  Being responsible for two more people sounded as fun as eating a plateful of dog turds, but what choice did he have.

  What was that? Jim heard something in the distance. It sounded like a lawnmower or a motorcycle, but before he could pinpoint its location the sound was gone.

  Chapter 21

  Karen whispered, “I don’t hear anything, do you?”

  “No, not anymore.” Jim handed his rifle to Troy again. “How do you guys want to do this?”

  Troy ejected the empty mag. “Let me and Sara take the lead. We’ll check the place and make sure it’s clear.” He fed the gun a fresh one and handed it back to Jim.

  Karen crossed her arms and gritted her teeth. “I know we said we would drop you off, but look around. You can’t stay here.”

  Desiree sucked down the last of her cigarette. “What do you mean?” She waved her wrinkly hand at a section of the yard. “I’ll plant some flowers there and hang a few thousand air fresheners around the house. I’ll be fine.”

  Karen’s swollen lips managed half a smile.

  Desiree extended her palm and the two shook hands. “Thank you darling. I didn’t want to be a damn burden, but it looks like that’s what Old D’ has become.” Desiree sucked the smoke to the filter and flicked it out an open window.

  Jim peered into the house. “It’s really dark in there, guys.”

  “Hang on a second,” said Karen. She moved to the cache of supplies taken from the store. Karen found the correct bag and dug around until she snagged what she was after. She produced two flashlights and a roll of duct tape. She handed one to her brother.

  Sara reached for the other and popped open the package. It came with a set of AA batteries which she promptly slid into the case and screwed the top into position. She toggled the switch located at the bottom of the unit and tested it.

  Let there be light.

  Even in the well-lit bus, the LED was blinding.

  Karen tore a length of tape and handed it to Troy. The second chunk went to Sara. They mounted the lights to the barrels of their weapons and left them on.

  Sara snagged the keys from Desiree as she moved for the front door. “Let’s do this.”

  Troy thumbed another round into the bottom of his shotgun. “I’m right behind ya.” He racked a shell.

  “Sorry about the mess. You know, I wasn’t expecting company so don’t judge me, guys.” Desiree kept a brave face, but it was clear she was really embarrassed.

  Sara stood at the top of the stairs. “We don’t care if your place is dirty and no matter what, we’ve seen worse.”

  Leon opened the door to the bus. He grunted, attempting to sound like a soldier in a movie. “Stay sharp in there.”

  Sara nodded at him and descended the steps. She poked her head from the door and examined the corridor created between the bus and the house. The space was empty. She tucked the SKS into her shoulder and raised the barrel to eye level as she reached with her free hand and unlocked the door. Troy positioned himself directly behind her and aimed his shotgun high above her shoulder.

  The door creaked open. A whoosh of stench slapped her and Troy in the face.

  Maybe we haven’t seen worse. Thought Sara as she covered her nose.

  It was rancid, but didn’t reek of death. The smell was an overpowering mix of cigarette tar, hospital, old dying man, garbage and sour milk. The air was stale. No open windows or doors, plus a disabled air-conditioner equaled a foul environment.

  Sara inched through the threshold. Her flashlight washed across a couch, recliner and TV. The house was messy, but not a total disaster. Ashtrays overflowed on both the coffee and end tables. Gossip magazines covered two thirds of the couch.

  They moved with caution. Searched every dark pocket. Every potential hiding place an infected might lurk. They swept past the furniture and headed toward the kitchen. Signs of a rushed morning breakfast were everywhere. Spilled Cheerios sat next to a half full bowl of spoiled milk. A full garbage bag leaned against the door to the garage.

  A dark hallway stood before them. The worst of the stench was coming from this side of the house.

  Sara hid her nose in the crook of her arm and whispered. “You think he’s turned?”

  Troy breathed through his mouth. “Hard to tell.” They focused both beams of light into the darkness.

  “If you want to go first, I won’t stop you.” Sara gestured toward the darkness.

  “Darling, your kindness is overwhelming.” He passed her and entered the hall.

  Troy tried the first door. He opened it only a few inches and angled his shotgun through the gap. “Oh, my God!”

  “What? What’s in there?” Sara moved in behind him.

  “Look at all the junk.” He let the door swing open. Stacks of old magazines, blankets, jackets, art supplies, decades old sports equipment, old Nintendo with controller cords wrapped around it, unopened Christmas presents. The closet was packed to capacity with shit Desiree should have thrown out years ago.

  “Thanks for the scare, Dr. Venkman.” Sara fought it, but a smile grew despite her efforts.

  Troy tried the door across from the closet. Their lights bounced off a large mirror. The bathroom was surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the home.

  “Dibs on the first bathroom break,” said Troy as he moved to the end of the hall.

  “You can’t call dibs on bathroom breaks. What about ladies first?”

  Troy spoke so quietly it was below a whisper. “It’s the twenty-first century. Men and women are equals. Bathroom breaks included.”

  “We’ll see about that. I’ve been holding it since the horde showed up at the store.”

  He paused in front of the doors and pointed at one of them. “The smell is definitely coming from there. I’m going to check the other door first.” He turned and twisted the doorknob.

  Their flashlights cast spooky shadows and played tricks on them.

  Someone was standing in the corner.

  Troy moved forward and readied the shotgun, but it was only an outfit hanging from a lamp.

  This was Desiree’s bedroom.

  The queen-sized bed wasn’t made. The sheets were rolled into a ball like someone had thrown a fit before they got out of bed. A dresser sat across from the bed and held a flat panel TV. Every surface in the room was covered with something.

  On the nightstand was a flower scented can of air freshener. Sara grabbed it and sprayed the bed and hallway.

  “Is that any better?” Sara asked as she set the can on the stand.

  “Now it smells like dead flowers in here. I guess yeah, it’s a little better.”

  “Oh, boy. Look at the size of that thing.” Sara’s gun aimed at the side of the bed.

  Troy turned to see what caught her eye. Laying on the floor beside the bed, plugged into the wall, was a gigantic vibrator. It was like a miniature upright vacuum cleaner. The power cord exited the large handle. Four different controls ran the sophisticated machine. The head unit, that did the vibrating, was the size of a large orange.

  Sara’s breath was taken away. “That’s the biggest vibrator I’ve ever seen.”

  Troy stepped toward the bed and kicked the power tool back behind the side table to hide the beast. “Desiree’s a healthy woman, that’s all.”

  “She’s lucky she hasn’t knocked out her fillings.”

  “Come on. That’s her private business, plus, I’ve seen bigger.”

  Sara’s pace quickened with excitement. “The only thing bigger is a jackhammer. Where did you see one bigger than that pussy blaster?”

  Troy’s expression gave it away.

  Sara’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Your ex-wife? She needed a bigger vibrator than this?”

  He turned his back to her and continued to search the room. “She didn’t need it. She liked it.” He got
defensive. “She had it before we got married. What does it matter?” Another door sat in the corner of the room. He opened it, found the master bathroom and walk-in-closet. It wasn’t as clean as the guest bathroom, but not disgusting either. “Good news. Two bathrooms.”

  “Thank God.” Sara headed toward the far wall and checked the other side of the bed. “And it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I don’t care what people use or need to get off.” The place was clear. She moved toward the end of the bed. She noticed Troy’s mood had changed. A story from her past popped into her head. A little something to even the playing field. “My parents used to tease me about this thing I did when I was like, four or five.”

  He was confused, yet intrigued. “Yeah?”

  Her smile was ear to ear and whatever she was about to say was super embarrassing. “I guess I would grind on this Kermit the Frog doll. They would send me to my room and tell me to ‘Go smoosh in there.’ So, you know, that’s pretty out there.”

  Troy’s easygoing demeanor returned. He joined her with his own epic and cheesy grin. “Kermit?”

  “What’s wrong with Kermit?”

  Troy headed for the hallway, “Nothing.”

  She followed and added to her defense, “He’s the leader of the Muppets. You don’t get any more famous than that.”

  “No, I get it. I always had a thing for Ms. Piggie.” With a perfect Kermit voice Troy sung, “Why are there so many songs about rainbows?”

  She socked him in the shoulder. “One more line and you’ll get me horny.”

  He stopped in his tracks. Faced her. Sucked in a lungful of air and sang, “And what’s on the other side.”

  She moved in closer.

  Troy lowered his shotgun and leaned forward.

  Her head cocked to one side.

  Ten thousand volts of electricity charged the room.

  They were brimming with anticipation.

  Sara’s heart rate climbed.

  Unsure what was coming next, but excited by the possibilities.

  Troy swallowed hard and said, “I should check this room now, don’t you think?” He motioned to the final door.

  And the voltage meter dropped to zero.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Troy stepped from Desiree’s room. He stopped in front of the door with the mystery smell.

  Making sure Troy didn’t see, she checked her breath and then her armpits. All three were so rank it caused her head to spin.

  Yikes!

  That’s got to be the reason.

  Caught in a web of doubt and shame, Sara didn’t notice Troy reenter the bedroom.

  His muscular hand reached for her. His fingers curled around the back of her neck as his thumb brushed against her ear. Gently he pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

  She pushed her body against his, her arm hooked his waste and she kissed him right back.

  It lasted as long as a first kiss should, then he released her.

  His body trembling against hers.

  He spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna let a good thing pass me by.”

  His anxiety fed hers and Sara was at a loss. She couldn’t figure out what to say. Her mouth took control and started before her brain was ready. She blurted out, “I’m sorry I smell so bad.”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “Me too.”

  The joke allowed them to relax and she had to admit it. “That was a good one.”

  “Let’s press pause. Check that room. And maybe later tonight we can resume… this.”

  “Maybe.” She playfully pushed him toward the door.

  Sara shook off the juices pulsing through her system and got her game face on.

  Troy reached for the knob, readied his gun, prepared for the worst and opened the door. The musk of a dying old man escaped from the room as if they had opened a crypt to a three-thousand-year-old mummy.

  Troy slipped his t-shirt over his nose. “Jesus Crist. That’s horrible.”

  The room was pitch black. Windows completely blocked.

  The hairs on the back of Sara’s neck stood straight. This room had all the sensations of entering a monster’s lair.

  Dark and cavernous room.

  Stench of death.

  Undefinable objects populated the space.

  A creature, most definitely, lay in wait.

  They shined their beams of light around the sarcophagus. In the far corner was a hospital bed. The head section was fully raised. Stained white sheets covered most of the wretched monstrosity.

  Its face was thin, like the edge of an axe. Its skin was yellow and waxy.

  With two high-powered LED lights blasting him in the face, the old man didn’t move a muscle.

  “Oh, shit!” cursed Sara.

  Desiree brandished a flashlight of her own as she followed Troy and Sara through her house. Her head hung, shoulders slumped, and her flamboyant tone had changed. She sounded closer to a mouse. “Sometimes he sleeps really deep and you have to shake him awake.”

  Troy and Sara paused at the hallway and allowed Desiree to pass.

  “Dad!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “Are you asleep?” She continued to shuffle toward the bedroom.

  Troy and Sara kept right on her heels.

  Sara wavered, trying not to be blunt. “If he has passed, he will turn into one of them.”

  Desiree grunted, “I don’t think he will be dangerous.”

  Troy chimed in, “It’s a good idea to keep your distance. At least until we’re sure.”

  Desiree’s feet halted at the entrance to her father’s room. “Dad? Hey! Wake up you old fart!”

  Nothing.

  She turned to the others, “Maybe being stuck in this room, he wasn’t affected by… whatever the fuck this is?”

  Troy rubbed at his beard. “We don’t know, and I wish we had all the answers, but we really don’t understand how this disease works. I’m so sorry, Desiree.”

  She stepped farther into the room. “He’s not moving. Not that he could move much when he was still kicking… Damn it! You know you pray for his suffering to end. You want them to pass to the other side, so there’s no more pain… Then he finally dies… and I want him back.” Desiree stepped closer to her father. She stood in the middle of the room. His head leaned way back on to his pillow, exposing his leathery neck. His jaw was slack and cocked open to one side. His arthritic hands sat in a pile on his lap. They resembled a swollen stack of knotted wood. He remained still. She stepped beside the bed as tears fell from her cheeks. “I would want to tell him… one last time… I love you, ya dumb old bastard.” She reached for his shoulder. “Goodbye, Daddy.”

  Its knotted hands sprung to life, grabbed her and pulled Desiree’s forearm to its snapping, hungry teeth.

  Chapter 22

  Lisa took a hard right onto McGillivray Boulevard. The stretch of road widened into four lanes, with a decorative row of plants splitting the thoroughfare in two. After the claustrophobic scare her team faced leaving the church, Lisa’s first impulse was to put her foot to the floor and haul ass out of town, but the caravan of big rigs wasn’t going to allow them to travel at breakneck speeds through Vancouver. The boulevard gave them an extra lane and large intersections to work with, which helped her navigate through the discarded vehicles that choked the streets and intersections.

  Alayna grunted as she lifted a full box of ammo through the turret. “Well guys, we are in some serious shit now!” She said as she loaded the box onto its platform.

  Mason slid his sunglasses off his nose and rubbed his eye sockets. “I believe it’s the same level of shit. We’re just looking at it from a different point of view.”

  Brady twisted in his seat. “It’s like, you’re in an airplane, midflight and someone pulls a gun. They say, ‘Jump without a parachute or else I’ll shoot you in the head.’ Either way you’re dead.”

  Mason added, “Precisely, the walls of the church made us feel safe, but it was a false sense of security.”

&
nbsp; Brady continued, “In the confines of this metaphor, the church was like putting on a helmet before you jumped. Pointless”

  “Exactly.” Mason replaced his glasses.

  Lisa slowed to a crawl, made a sharp turn between two burnt police cruisers and an overturned truck. “We get it, you guys are nerds.” She resumed normal speed once they were clear of the debris.

  “Ha, ha,” Mason faked a laugh. “Is that an insult? Twenty or thirty years ago, maybe, but nowadays, it’s a badge of honor.”

  Alayna loaded the belt of ammo and released the bolt. Click-clack, the devastating weapon was ready for action. She readjusted her helmet and lowered a pair of goggles. “Was there a point to your rambling?”

  Brady nodded, “Mason was attempting to comfort us.”

  “How so?”

  Mason reclined into his headrest. “We shouldn’t waste time fretting about our level of danger.”

  “Why not?” Lisa scoffed.

  Mason turned to his window. “Because, it’s pointless. As of yesterday, every scenario is a deadly one.”

  Lisa lowered her brow, “If it’s pointless to fret then why did you panic so much when we were surrounded?”

  Mason crossed his arms. “I still don’t want to die.” He scratched at his forehead as the wheels turned. “Only in the afterglow of our near-death experience can I put my frame of mind into perspective.” He groaned. “I hear the B.S. coming out of my mouth. I know I’m talking out my ass. I’m trying to come to terms… with our… unique situation.”

  Brady’s expression was deadly serious. “I think we all need to take a minute and be thankful. We are still alive. We have the means to protect ourselves. God must have a plan.”

  Lisa repeated Mason and Brady’s statements to herself as she maneuvered through another tight intersection. She knew they were trying to make the best of a dire situation and like most young men, at the beginning stages of their higher education, they were overthinking everything. Trying to rationalize their world. Mason was talking out his ass, but that didn’t mean he was wrong.

  She glanced around the neighborhood.

  This was a desirable part of town. She thought to herself.