The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  Troy readjusted his baseball cap. The cut on his forehead burned with pain as he set the lid back into position. “This busted nose and dislocated jaw are outside my abilities.”

  Frank sucked the cigarette to the filter as he climbed out of the recliner. “I’m sure it will be fine. It’s better than he deserves.” Frank headed for the kitchen to dispose of the cigarette butt. On his way through the foyer he had to step over Cliff’s legs. He wanted to say something. Anything, to try and lift his spirits, but what can you say? The man was just broken. Frank entered the kitchen to find that Jim had cleaned himself up and was working to pick up all the silverware that had been spread across the kitchen floor during Karen and Eric’s fight. He loaded them a handful at a time into the sink.

  Frank stubbed out his cigarette in the basin and tossed it in the garbage as he whispered. “We have to keep Cliff working. Otherwise he won’t make it.” Frank kicked on the hot tap and ran his hands under the falling water.

  Jim grabbed the last fistful of cutlery and dropped them off as he whispered back. “He just lost his family.”

  Frank doused his face with water. He looked at Jim. Dark droplets fell from his skin as his expression turned to marble. He spoke softly, “We’ve all just lost our family,” then he resumed cleaning himself.

  Jim nodded in agreement. He grabbed a broom from the closet and proceeded to clean the glass from the coffee pot Karen busted upside Eric’s skull. Cleaning helped him think.

  What kind of project can we get Cliff working on?

  We need a way out of this house.

  Can’t walk out the front or the back and opening the garage would be a nightmare.

  Jim swept the glass into a pile, lowered the dust pan as he swept up the shards of glass and dumped it into the garbage. Then he grabbed a dirty dish towel from the sink, ran it under the water and tossed it to the floor. Using his boot, Jim scrubbed the floor with the towel. He cleaned the dried coffee and Eric’s blood until the floor shined.

  That’s when it hit him.

  The only way out, is up.

  “We have him cut a hole through the roof in the garage.”

  “What?” Frank swiped the excess water from his face and let the rest air dry.

  “There is a garage attic. We climb up, cut a hole into the roof and from there we can take out the horde.”

  Frank scratched at the stubble on his chin, “How do we take out the swarm?”

  “Guns or the spears or both I don’t know. I’ll get him to work. You make sure we have every gun and mag loaded.” Jim picked up the towel and tossed it in the garbage too.

  “Alright, sounds like a plan.” Frank saluted Jim and got to work.

  Jim entered the foyer. He nodded at Leon, who looked antsy or nervous it was hard to tell.

  “Sup, man? Ah, what’s happenin’?” Leon’s hands shifted from his pockets to his hips, then he crossed them against his chest. Jim had a difficult time reading the guy, but it was clear he was trying hard to be liked.

  “Not much, we got a plan we’re about to move forward on and need your guys’ help.” Jim automatically clicked into his salesmen voice. Which meant he would purposely speed up and slow down what he was saying. Changing your speech pattern was a classic way to get people to listen intently. He was going to try and sell Cliff on the idea that manual labor might save his life, but the last time Jim tried to save Cliff’s life he had to bitch-slap him awake. He hoped this time it wouldn’t come to that.

  Cliff didn’t move, but Leon was all ears. “What’s the plan?”

  Jim lowered himself into a squat position next to Cliff. The muscles in his thighs burned as he got closer to the ground. A full day of running for his life had kicked the shit out of his quads. Once he was down he spoke slowly. He didn’t want to startle Cliff. “Why don’t you guys go get cleaned up in the kitchen?”

  Cliff’s eyelids were half shut and his gaze was zeroed in on the floor. Jim reached out and tapped the sole of Cliff’s boot. “Cliff, are you in there? We need to-”

  Cliff launched an attack. His powerful fingers wrapped around Jim’s throat. They fell backwards to the floor. Jim’s skull bounced off the hardwood as Cliff scrambled to climb on top of him. Cliff’s face went red and twisted with anger. He screamed at the top of his lungs. “You brought us here! You killed them!”

  Chapter 10

  The engine roared as Blaine swerved to take out a pack of infected. The plow hit their mangled bodies and shot a fountain of gore onto the windshield. Blaine powered up the washers and hollered over his shoulder, “The more we take down the better.” He raced into the next lane. An infected body crawled out of a burning vehicle. Its skin looked like a melted garbage bag. Its bubbled and dripping arms waved at the approaching vehicle as if it was beckoning Blaine to end its miserable life. The bus rolled over the crunchy body with ease and the big rig’s tires pancaked its torso.

  “That’s disgusting.” Shawna covered her mouth and closed her eyes.

  “Don’t try to hit them!” Dallas steadied his stomach. He was carsick after only a few minutes on the road and the human remains bouncing off the front of the bus wasn’t helping.

  Dallas wondered, Am I carsick, or is this just fear?

  Charlie sounded a little too giddy. “Each one he hits, saves us a bullet.”

  Theo pleaded with Blaine. “If you keep running them down like that, I’m gonna barf.”

  “Fine. You guys are no fun.” Blaine avoided the next group of infected racing out into the street to greet them.

  Their heading took them south toward Highway 14. The closer they got to this major roadway the more abandoned cars littered the street. The tight passageways kept Blaine from gaining any real speed. He got the yellow war machine up to twenty miles an hour, but had to back it down immediately so he wouldn’t collide with the burnt out shell of a pickup.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Blaine as he feverishly cranked the wheel.

  Dallas tugged Blaine’s sleeve. “We aren’t trying to win a race. Just get us there in one piece.”

  They cruised back and forth across the narrow street. The road widened as the highway came into view.

  “Holy smokes.” Blaine shifted to a lower gear and readied the bus for the turn.

  The eastbound lane was bumper to bumper. Evidence of the massive horde that rumbled through the highway was everywhere. Vehicles splattered with crimson. Torn off body parts were strewn about. Infected humans, their bodies more bone than flesh, clumsily walked between the rows of parked cars. A thousand families had been gobbled up and ripped to shreds.

  Dallas had seen more than his fair share of mangled bodies, but this highway was far more than he was prepared for. He kept his eyes on the floor, but that didn’t help his motion sickness. There was movement at his right. He checked on it out of the corner of his eye.

  Shawna moved into the seat next to him and asked, “Carsick?”

  “There are some butterflies in there.”

  “When did you join the church?” Shawna wasn’t just asking because she was curious.

  “You already know the answer, you trying to get my mind off the rumbling in my guts?” Dallas took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Maybe,” Shawna’s voice was sweet and warm. Hearing her talk was already helping.

  “As of March, three years.” Dallas’ fingers curled around the edge of his seat. He squeezed until his knuckles went gray.

  “It’s ten for me. What do you do for a living?” Shawna unzipped her backpack and grabbed a water bottle. She took a quick swig as she waited for an answer.

  Dallas huffed a half smile at her. “You know that too.”

  “Come on, it’ll get your mind off your belly.”

  “Personal trainer.”

  “How long have you been at that?”

  “Two years this July.”

  “What’s your favorite workout?”

  His hands relaxed and his jaw loosened. “The Murphy.” />
  Shawna raised her eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  Dallas rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck. He appeared calmer and was no longer focused on the nausea. “The Murphy is a one mile run followed by one hundred pullups, two hundred pushups, three hundred air squats and you finish with another mile run, while wearing a twenty pound weight vest, and you do it as fast as you possibly can.”

  Both of her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “That’s your favorite? It sounds like a nightmare. The running is not so bad, but a hundred pullups? How long does it take you to finish?”

  “Forty minutes is my best time so far.”

  “That sounds intense.”

  “If you don’t feel horrible when you’re done, you didn’t do it right.” Dallas readjusted the toothpick in his mouth.

  “I know about feeling sick after a workout. At mile twenty of my first marathon I puked. It was all over my shirt and for the next six miles.”

  Dallas smashed his eyelids shut. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t normally get motion sickness.”

  “Sorry, that was not a good story to tell. Let’s see, any hobbies?” She took another sip of water.

  “I hunt.”

  “Is that how you’re so good with a rifle?”

  “I do a lot of target practice outside the season to stay sharp.”

  “It’s a good thing you did. Try and keep your gaze on a spot in the distance. It always helps me when I get queasy.” Her expression was bright and caring. He was certain Shawna was only being nice because she felt bad for him and not because she was interested. Dallas was so out of practice when it came to the opposite sex he often guessed wrong. He had a few embarrassing moments in the past. Hitting on a married woman in front of her husband because he misunderstood (aka drunk as hell) that she was only being nice and giving him a compliment on his physique. That was a pretty bad one, he was close to getting in a fight with the husband, but thankfully Blaine got him out of the bar before it went that far.

  He almost lost his trainer position at the gym when he asked out the woman he was putting through a workout. She told his manager that he was unprofessional and shouldn’t be working with the public, but she was the one who said, ‘I bet you can go for a long time with a body like that.’ He was sure she meant in bed, but she claimed to be talking about the gym.

  For the last year he decided to stay out of the dating world and concentrate on getting the only female he really cared about back into his life, his twelve-year-old daughter, Maxine. But so many miles separated them now and the hope of ever seeing her again had become a fleeting dream.

  Dallas shook off his negative thoughts and got focused.

  If I can’t accurately fire from the bus I’m useless. He tried what Shawna had suggested and looked out the front window to find a distant point to zone in on, but they were surrounded by trees. Ahead of them on the other side of the Highway was another grouping of tall trees. Dallas could only look a few hundred feet in any direction.

  In the intersection straight ahead was a major pileup of cars. The only route available was to pop the curb and cut across a lawn. That got them heading east. The road opened up in front of them. The six lanes of highway allowed him to see a mile away. He took a dozen deep breaths and the swarm of butterflies in his stomach calmed. His mild headache dissipated and he was back. He kept his eyes locked on a distant evergreen as he spoke, “Thank you for the advice. I feel a little better.”

  “You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for, right? Keep everyone healthy?” Shawna lowered her backpack between her knees and set it on the floor as she raised her rifle. “Now maybe you can help me. How do you work this thing?”

  Dallas gave her a smile and took the rifle from her so he could give her a quick lesson on gun safety and operation.

  Death and carnage surrounded them. It became a blur of red outside the windows as Blaine gained speed. A few rows from Dallas and Shawna, were Charlie and Theo. They were perched up on their knees so they could see over the steel plates bolted to the lower part of the windows. They sat silently, looking in opposite directions, trying desperately to acclimate themselves to the horrors flashing by.

  Charlie rubbed the corners of his eyes as he stared. “It’s unreal, ain’t it?”

  Theo spotted a blood soaked child’s car seat on the side of the road. “That’s quite an understatement.”

  “You think it will ever be like it was, before?” Charlie leaned forward. His nose came close to touching the glass.

  “It’s going to take a long time to get there, but yeah, I think so.” Theo’s voice sounded unsure as he asked the next question. “I heard you went to Iraq. Didn’t it, you know, kind of look like this?”

  “Not even close. I ain’t saying it wasn’t bad, cause it was, but this is… so so much worse. I don’t even have the words to tell you.” Charlie looked away from his window and back at Theo. “How are you doing, with all the… nasty visuals?”

  “I’ll be alright, I mean, if you can take it, so can I.”

  “I know you were a tough guy on the field, you led your school in tackles, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Charlie motioned outside. “What’s the worst thing you’ve seen before this?”

  Theo dropped from his knees to his butt and faced Charlie. “You go first.”

  “I saw an RPG hit a tire of a Humvee, full of my buddies. They lost control and rolled down an embankment. The vehicle rolled ten times before coming to a stop at the bottom of the ravine. During the roll a soldiers’ grenade went off. It took us a full day in one hundred degree weather to get down to them and extract the bodies. For fourteen hours they baked in that tin can. When we finally got them out we could only identify them by their dog tags.”

  Theo’s complexion had gone pale and his lip snarled. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I once saw a guy get his finger dislocated at practice.”

  Charlie nodded at the young man. Then he busted into a loud belly laugh.

  Blaine tapped the brakes and dropped to a lower gear. “Check this out!”

  Dallas got from his seat and hunkered next to Blaine. A man was running straight at them. He was a hundred yards away and closing fast. He had a soft blue blanket clutched to his chest. It looked like he was carrying a baby. Pain and agony stretched across his face and it was clear he’d been through one hell of a night.

  Blaine asked, “What should we do?”

  Dallas scanned the area for an ambush or any infected. It appeared clear for the moment. “Stop the bus.”

  Then from around the corner a pack of infected emerged. They were hot on the man’s tail.

  “Blaine, turn right and park it!” Dallas jumped back to his seat, picked up his rifle and aimed it out his window.

  Blaine cranked the wheel and smashed the brakes. The broad side of the bus angled toward the approaching pack of infected. The others were at Dallas’ side as the infected creatures came into view.

  They opened fire. The noise inside the bus was deafening. A wall of lead flew down the street just above the head of the sprinting human. He ducked behind an abandoned car. Unsure if the shots were meant for him.

  The bullets chopped at the infected, taking hunks of meat off them and their numbers were cut in half.

  Dallas barked at his team, “Head shots, guys, head shots!”

  The crew listened to their leader and aimed for the infected skulls. Three dozen more shots were fired before the last monster fell. It landed and slid to a greasy stop five feet from the man with the blue blanket pressed to his shoulder. His head bobbed above the car’s fender as he eyed the bus.

  “Get us going straight again and park it.” Dallas loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle. “Good job everyone. That was a nice start to the day.”

  Blaine backed the rig up as the rest of his team followed Dallas’ lead and exchanged their mags.

  “That was some craziness.” Charlie was wild eyed with excitement.

>   “They’re pretty easy to kill.” Theo looked like he was crunching numbers on a calculus problem.

  “Yeah, I had heard they were near impossible to take down.” Shawna replaced her mag and finished off her bottle of water.

  “I’ve seen them burnt, chopped, gutted, bifurcated and decapitated, but the only way to put them down for good is a shot to the dome.” Dallas moved back to Blaine’s side just as he got the bus back on the road.

  Blaine shifted gears as they crept closer to the man. The brakes squeaked as he slowed the ride down. They could barely hear the man screaming over the high pitch screech of the disk brakes.

  “Please! Please help me! I have a baby!” He stepped away from the busted car and moved to the middle of the street blocking their path as the bus approached. He had blood stains on his clothes and dark circles under his eyes. His hair was drenched in sweat. He rambled the closer he got to the war rig. “Please let me on. I’m unarmed and exhausted. I can’t take care of my baby all by myself.”

  The bus came to a full stop. “What do you want to do, Dal?” Blaine’s hand rested on the shifter, ready to punch it at a moment’s notice.

  Sweat dripped from Dallas’ forehead as he watched the man move closer. Something was off about him and the blanket he carried, but Dallas couldn’t quite figure out what.

  This is a rescue mission. We have plenty of space to take him with us.

  The man cautiously walked toward the side door. “Please, will you help us?”

  Dallas gripped his sidearm and put his finger on the trigger. He moved for the steps and unlocked the bolts.

  “Are you sure?” Shawna’s rifle shook in her hands.

  “No.” Dallas unlocked the door and slid it open.

  The father reeked of B.O. and the stink of him swarmed the bus immediately. He inched closer to the door. He spotted the gun in the big man’s hand. “Thank you for stopping. My legs were about to give.” The baby made an odd sound as it squirmed under the blanket.

  Dallas knelt at the top of the stairs. He raised the gun slightly and clasped it with both hands. “Show me the baby.”