The Heartbeat Saga (Book 1): A Heartbeat from Destruction

by Reece Hinze

  “That said, since you’re here, I’m going to find a way to get y’all and all these kids to safety.”

  He sat down in a miniature chair, gesturing for the teachers to huddle around him. “Now listen, this is going to require some luck and,” Wade looked at his mother, “prayer, to pull off but if we can do it. All of these kids will be safe in the matter of a few hours.” He examined the faces staring back at him.

  Not much talent here but they will have to do.

  “We’ll make a break for the bus barn. Charles, Mrs…?” Wade looked towards a pretty blonde with a perfect body, red lipstick, heals, and a skirt that couldn’t possibly be in dress code.

  “My name is Miss Victoria Conroe, Officer Slaughter,” she said with a smile and twirl of her blonde hair.

  Holy shit.

  Wade reddened. Charles rolled his eyes dramatically. “Charles, Victoria will take both your kids and hers. You’re going ahead of the group and get the keys for all three busses.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa mister. How come I’m the one who has to go ahead?”

  “Because you look like you’re in good shape,” Wade replied, slapping him hard on the back. “And I need you to run your ass off. Take this for now, just in case.” He pulled out his service pistol. “Have you ever used a pistol before?”

  Charles shook his head.

  “This is ready to go. Hold it with both hands, use the forward site to aim, and gently squeeze the trigger.” Charles suddenly looked as if he were about to collapse. Miss. Garza fanned him with a blank piece of paper.

  Wade looked at the others making sure to hold eye contact with each in turn. “We will give Charles a three minute head start. I need you tell the kids we are going on a fire drill and they need to hold hands.” He paused for a moment, leaning his weight forward. “Now listen. You have to get these kids to move it. This isn’t a leisurely walk through the playground. There is extreme danger out there right now and I can only cover so much ground at once.”

  Every face in the huddle, except his mother who stood tall and noble, looked completely terrified. Wade gestured at the last two teachers, short brunettes that could have been twins.

  “You two bring up the rear.”

  The twins bobbed their heads up and down.

  “When we reach the fence, there will be a large gap waiting for us. You with me Mr. Swinney?” Charles nodded, looking as pale as a corpse.

  “Charles will meet us at the gap with the keys to the buses. Once you get your kids on board, lock the doors and keep the windows up. I’ll join my mother in the lead bus and you’ll follow us to our ranch where it’s safe.”

  Wade looked around the group with creased brow. “I know all of you have loved ones to get in contact with but,” he pulled out his cell phone, “There’s no service.” He lowered his voice and emphasized his words with his outstretched knife. “The kids come first. Remember, stay calm and don’t panic, no matter what. Any questions?”

  Victoria gently raised her perfectly manicured hand. “What if the parents come looking for their children? How will they know where to go?”

  “Excellent question Victoria,” Wade said. He looked towards his Mom who held up the signs with the address of the ranch.

  “Anyone else?” Wade asked.

  Charles, meek as he was pale, raised a timid hand. “I’m not used to his kind of responsibility, officer. I can’t do this,” he said, huffing and puffing on the verge of hyperventilation.

  Wade stood up, walked to Charles, placed his hands atop the man’s trembling shoulders, and looked him in the eye. “You are not going to mess up. You are going to do great. You know why? Hmm?” Charles sheepishly looked up at the stocky policeman.

  “Because you have to,” he said. “Because over a hundred people’s lives depend on you getting that fence open and meeting us with bus keys.” Charles opened his mouth to say something but closed it before he did. Wade slapped him on the back again and looked to the other teachers.

  “The rest of you, gather your children and tell them what they need to know. Charles, I’ll walk you outside and make sure the coast is clear before you make your move to the bus barn.” The teachers stared at him blank faced.

  “Let’s go people, let’s go!” Wade said, snapping them out of their daze.

  As the others shuffled out of the room, Wade walked to his mother. “Everything is going to be okay Momma. This will work.”

  “I know baby, I know,” Anne replied. She pushed him towards the door. Her hand grasped the simple cross hanging from her neck with white knuckles.

  It’s time.

  Wade joined Charles in the doorway and glanced back at his mother one last time. She winked at him and turned to comfort her frightened children. “Time to go,” he said. Charles held Wade’s pistol as if it might give him cooties.

  As they approached the doors, Wade gestured to the corpses on the ground. “Help me with these. I don’t want the kids seeing this before they have to run through the dark.” Charles gagged as Wade gripped the ankle of the female. He didn’t move.

  “At least open the door dammit,” Wade snapped. His command voice propelled Charles, as it had many skittish soldiers in the past, into action. Wade dragged the corpse outside while all that remained of the once fierce thunderstorm gently drizzled on him.

  Two feet out the door, Wade abruptly dropped the body and aimed his rifle at a dark figure. Leaning on the hood of Wade’s squad car, which was parked ten feet away and still running, was a frail old man. Smoke drifted lazily from his big cigar, over the brim of his black WWII Veteran cap, and into the star filled sky.

  “Mr. Worsby! Holy shit I thought you…”

  “I know, son,” he said, puffing slowly.

  “Were you hurt? Are you infected?”

  “Boy,” Clifford paused to take a drag of his cigar. “If I was infected, do you think I would be talking to you right now?” It was the same common sense wisdom his mother had given him.

  He lowered his rifle. “You’ve got a point. What the fuck happened in there? How did you get out?”

  “I thought I told you, son. Hitler’s own S.S. couldn’t kill me. A dern sickness sure won’t. Twisted my ankle pretty good though.” Clifford tapped his ankle with his cane and then gestured to the man fanning himself and breathing heavily. “I see you made a friend.”

  “Over a hundred friends, Mr. Worsby.”

  Clifford’s tired eyes lit up under his bushy eyebrows. “God is good. Yes indeed.” His gaze trailed off, somewhere beyond the sky.

  Charles fanned himself desperately, looking at the old man and back to Wade through his designer, rain spotted glasses. The moisture was doing such harm to his hair. “Look, I’m glad you two butt buddies can circle jerk again but if we are going to do this, let’s get a move on please?”

  “Right,” Wade said, staring at the man. “Clifford, can you still drive?”

  Mr. Worsby nodded.

  “Very good. I have an evac plan. Pop the trunk for me.” By the time he walked to the back of the car, Clifford was in the driver’s seat. Wade grabbed some wire cutters, handed them to Charles and then opened the passenger door. “Mr. Worsby, I need you to drive my new friend Charles here to the bus barn office. Drive straight through the field. He’s going to cut a hole in the fence big enough for this vehicle and the other survivors to fit through. I’m giving you a three minute head start before I head your way with the children.”

  Charles plopped down into the passenger seat. “Ugh, can you not smoke that thing in here old man?” He complained.

  Clifford ignored him and nodded at Wade. “We’ll get it done,” he said. He looked at Charles as if he saw him for the first time. “Close that door boy,” he snapped.

  Clifford gunned it and a minute later, there was the red glow of brake lights at the fence. Wade went about the grim job of removing the other corpse from the doorway. After it was out of sight, he walked down the hallway knocking on doors telling the teachers it was time
to go. He found his mother with her head bowed in the center of a semicircle of children. The class looked up as he entered the room.

  “It’s time to go,” he said. Anne nodded grimly at her son. You could never guess anything was out of the ordinary as she turned to address her class.

  “Okay girls and boys, it’s time for the fire drill I told you about. Line up at the door.” There was an excited shuffle of backpacks and even laughter as the children lined up to leave. Wade couldn’t help but admire his mother’s way with her students.

  “Now, now, Jacob, don’t be shy. I need all of you to hold hands.” She turned to her son and said, “Let’s get these kids to safety.”

  The teachers had their kids neatly lined up down the sides of the hallway. Some of the boys closer to Wade gaped open mouthed at his gun and uniform. A little girl with pigtails yawned and looked at him with sleepy eyes. Victoria’s blonde hair swished back and forth as she disciplined two mischievous boys causing a ruckus in the back row.

  Wade raised his voice so he could be heard all the way in the back, praying he wouldn’t draw any infected to their location. “Okay everyone listen up! I need all of you to follow the instructions your teachers gave you very, very carefully. No horseplay, no talking, and you must hold hands with the person in front of and behind you until we are all on the busses.” He waved his hand in a circular motion like John Wayne on the set of an old western. “Let’s move out!”

  The first one out the door, he carefully scanned the parking lot to the left and the playground to his right. He was greeted by nothing but the gentle patter of drizzle and the distant rumble of thunderclaps. The police cruiser was through the fence and parked at the bus barn office.

  So far so good.

  His mother poked her head out of the door and Wade gestured to the fence.

  “That’s where you’re leading them Mom. I’ll wait here until everyone gets through and then I’ll run to meet you.”

  “Okay sweetheart,” she said, grasping a short timid black boy’s hand. “Come on guys. This way.”

  Wade watched head after head go through the doorway.

  How are we going to take care of all these kids? Where is the fucking relief?

  He shook his head because such thoughts were foolish right now. If he didn’t keep his mind on the mission, something would slip and they would all die. He knew better than most, there is plenty of time afterwards to doubt yourself.

  “Come on kids. That’s right. You’re all doing great, keep it up.”

  Head after precious head.

  The obese Miss. Garza, and then the sweetly smiling Victoria, came through and finally the two who could have been twins came through the door with the last of the students.

  “I’m going to run up and supervise the loading,” Wade said. “Your group is lagging behind a little. You’ve got to keep up the…”

  Gunfire cut through the still night air. Wade’s head turned in time to see the muzzle flashes near the busses.

  Oh my God.

  Children screamed. A few ran back towards the school but Wade cut them off. “Wait! No kids, get back in line! Hold hands!” A uniformed peace officer waving his arms and shouting was enough to turn them around for now. He turned to the twins and shouted, “Get these kids moving, now!”

  His mother’s group was the first one at the fence but they had stopped, creating a traffic jam. Wade ran as fast as he could to the head of the column. Mr. Worsby, leaning heavily on his cane, greeted him by handing over two bus keys. “Where the fuck is the third key, Clifford? We can’t get there with only two!”

  “That boy has one,” he said, pointing towards the nearest row of busses. Like he was a magician summoning a trick, the bus cranked to life. “He said he could drive so I told him to get to it.”

  Wade scanned the field looking for anything besides the kids. “Good, good,” he said absently. He waved for his mother to proceed. “What the fuck was that shooting?”

  Mr. Worsby gestured behind him. “Boy got trigger happy. Almost took my head off when he came out of the office.”

  Wade sighed. “Holy shit, Clifford.”

  The old man shrugged.

  Anne’s class started filtering through the fence. He pointed to the bus next to the one Charles had started. “That’s yours Mom. Start loading your kids.”

  “Come on children. Up we go!” Anne Slaughter was calm and confident. In another life, she would have made a good battlefield commander he thought.

  “Clifford, direct traffic while I get the rest here,” Wade ordered. The old man nodded but Wade was already gone, running fast down the line.

  He had stopped to comfort a sobbing little girl when the gym door flung open. Several people spilled out on top of one other. Their wide eyes scanned slowly back and forth, temporarily stunned by the change in scenery. A stout grey haired man wearing gym shorts that left nothing to the imagination and a whistle around his bloody neck climbed over the others. He saw the crowd of children and let out a terrifying scream. His shirt was red, his eyes bled tears.

  “Fuck!” Wade yelled. “Get on the busses!”

  And then the training, drilled into him over years and years, took over. The infected drove the terrified kids, screaming and running, like demonic Shepherds.

  “Run for the busses, kids,” Wade bellowed. “Run!”

  Time slowed. Sound dulled. He heard only the beating of his heart and the huffing of his breath and saw nothing but the enemy. Nothing but people trying to cause imminent harm to innocents. Nothing but the mission. Wade fell to prone and peered down his red dot scope. He switched the fire selector to semi. He squeezed the trigger, only registering a kill long enough to switch to the next target. The grey haired man’s mustache disappeared, along with the rest of his upper face, while fragments of gore exploded into the air like an Independence Day firework. His terrible bloodshot eyes and snarling teeth disappeared but more infected replaced him, flowing through the gym doors like an opened floodgate.

  Shot after shot he fired.

  Body after body dropped to the moist ground. Some bounced when they fell. Some stuck to the mud with a splat.

  Wade turned to his right and another face appeared in his scope but these eyes weren’t filled with blood. The little girl with pigtails had stopped near the door to the school and was sitting down with her hands over her ears screaming. He looked behind and saw about half of the children were through the fence. The infected were closing at an alarming rate. Wade dropped the nearest three infected to the girl, pushed off the ground and ran as fast as he could.

  He fired blindly from his hip as they drew near. The little girl hid her eyes when he reached her. “It’s okay,” he said between gulps of air. “I’m a policeman.”

  “Those are my teachers,” the little girl said. Wade scooped her under his arm like a football. The girl slowed him down. The infected were gaining on him but worse, they were threatening to cut him off before he got to the busses.

  He heard Mr. Worsby shout from across the fence but didn’t understand what he said. The infected shrieked behind Wade’s back but he dared not look behind him. His feet carried him as fast as he could.

  Almost there.

  The girl in his arms was screaming and flailing while Wade fired from the hip, the shots landing harmlessly behind him in the dirt.

  Ten more feet.

  Something grabbed his boot from behind and he lost his balance. The little girl tumbled pigtails over shoes from his grasp. Wade flipped to his back just in time to send a bullet through the heart of a chubby female, naked with half of her breast ripped off. He fired at the crowd closing in.

  Click, click, click.

  His rifle was empty. Death approached in a screaming horde.

  Get up Wade.

  Get up.

  GET UP!

  His boots slung mud as he pivoted towards the fence. The little girl lay unconscious a few feet away. He grabbed her without breaking stride. Loud booms echoed through t
he night as he passed underneath the fence. Huge balls of fire blasted from Clifford’s .357 revolver. Wade skid around the corner of his mother’s bus. His legs felt like Jell-O as he labored up the steps. Anne slammed the door shut and almost instantly an infected face plastered itself on the glass, smearing blood everywhere. Banging fists demanding entry to the bus. The children screamed.

  “Go, go, go!” Wade shouted but his mother hesitated.

  “Wade!” She shouted, looking towards Charles’ bus.

  He wasn’t even half full but he slammed the doors shut. The twin teachers, along with countless children, screamed and pleaded and pried at the door. Charles stared at them, unmoving.

  “No!” Wade screamed. The horde from the gym plowed into them like an ancient battle. Children wept for their mothers as they were ripped apart. Both twin’s protected children in their arms as the infected savagely beat at their faces. After a moment, you couldn’t tell who was infected and who wasn’t.

  “You bastard!” Wade screamed. “I’ll kill you!”

  But Charles didn’t blink. He stared at the carnage. Wade shouted, “Drive,” but Anne was staring out the window, weeping uncontrollably.

  He pulled his mother out of the seat. The children on board screamed as the infected slammed into the side of their bus, rocking it back and forth. Wade gunned it.

  The infected bellowed into the night air as they killed mercilessly.

  Chapter IX: Hope

  Patient 1113, for that was his name now, lay on his back against the cold floor of his cell. He opened his eyes and closed them again. The walls, the ceiling, his entire life, the same pitch black. The color of death. A small hysterical giggle followed by a growl erupted from his mouth. It mattered not. Everything he had ever loved, everyone he had ever known was dead and his penance was having his mind and body destroyed while suffering alone until his immanent death. Of which, the hour was quickly approaching. He welcomed it.

  He winced as he rolled onto his shoulder. The Colonel Fennimore Devreaux had reaggravated the wound by shoving his pistol into it, the same pistol a Captain James Lasko had given the man once upon a time but the Captain was dead. Only Patient 1113 drew breath now. He listened passively to his life's blood drip to the floor like a leaky faucet. He welcomed the bleeding, taking solace in the fact his entire life had become mere specs of sand slowly pouring through the hourglass.