The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  Scott removed his headphones and rose from his chair. “Brother Paul?” He stepped across the office and tapped his leader on the elbow. “Are you okay?”

  Paul lowered his head, “What do you have to report?” He took another sip from the bottle.

  “Dallas and Blaine are at the house and have spotted Ranger Two’s vehicle.” Scott motioned at his computer. “They are awaiting your instructions.”

  Paul set the bottle on his desk and replaced the cork. Two long strides later he had the receiver in his fist.

  Chapter 22

  Eric’s fingers flexed as he readjusted the shiv of mirror in his hand. A little blood trickled from his clenched fist. In his rush he had sliced open his palm. Beads of sweat raced out from under the bandage that circled his skull. He bear hugged the squirming girls in his lap and pulled them closer to his chest.

  Frank raged, “Let them go.” His pistol aimed at Eric’s mangled noggin.

  “You are in no position to make requests.” Arctic waters coursed through Eric’s veins as he raised the blade to within an inch of Valerie’s neck.

  Frank calmed his voice as he looked at the little ones. “Girls, listen to me. That man isn’t going to hurt you.”

  Eric shook his arms violently, “Don’t believe a word he says. That old man can’t protect you.” He laughed as the girls screamed in terror.

  Frank remembered Jim pleading with him yesterday on his boat. The desperate father held up a photo of his girls and showed it to Frank. Jim told him how they could be his grandchildren and that they needed him to survive. Jim begged him not to take his own life, but it was the photo that clinched it for Frank. How could he say no to those adorable little eyes looking at him from the photo? Now, in this present hell, those same tiny faces were covered in snot and tears and they needed Frank more than ever.

  He angled the pistol to the floor. “Please stop, okay? You win. What do you want?”

  Eric’s lips curled. “You hear that girls, I won. Put the gun down.” He let out a wet sounding cough. Blood leaked from the corners of his mouth.

  Frank lowered his pistol to his side, but didn’t dare drop it.

  Eric spit out some gore and continued, “What I wanted earlier was a good time, but that uppity bitch wouldn’t have it.”

  Frank’s anger spiked, “Now you wanna terrorize these little girls?” He quickly regained control and settled his tone. “If you let them go, I promise you safe passage from this house.” Frank stepped a little closer.

  “Get back!” Eric growled at the man.

  Frank stopped mid step.

  “Why the hell would I want to leave? I’m in charge now. No older brother telling me what to do, no one looking down on me because I have different desires. I can be free.” Eric let out another round of sick sounding coughs.

  Frank took the opportunity and moved closer.

  Eric glared, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to hide your true self from everyone, all the time?”

  Frank shook his head.

  “It’s a nightmare, but then, oh happy day, the apocalypse started. When this infection hit the streets, I was ecstatic. I thought to myself, okay, here is my chance. With everything in chaos I can finally be the real me.”

  Frank tilted his head, “How’d that turn out?”

  Eric smiled as he wagged a finger at Frank, “Ha ha ha, that’s very funny. Luckily for me it’s not a popularity contest.”

  The sun beat down upon Jim, causing him to squint. The spring breeze had come to a stop and it suddenly felt ten degrees hotter on Penny’s roof. An idling bus sat a block away. It had a customized cow catcher and metal plates bolted to its sides. Blood and guts were smeared across the front of the rig and it was clear its passengers weren’t here to sell them a vacuum cleaner.

  Could this be Brother Paul’s followers?

  The last thing Jim wanted was another fight. He scanned the roof, everyone but Frank was up there like sitting ducks. Well, ducks armed with spears. “Everyone, get inside,” Jim croaked as his throat went dry.

  They didn’t need Jim to ask twice. Everyone but Cliff untethered themselves and made for the hole in the garage as quickly as possible.

  Jim nodded at Cliff, “Come on buddy, we’ll need you too.”

  Cliff got up from his knees, but he only moved in slow motion.

  “Who is it?” Karen handed Jim her spear as she scurried across the roof.

  “I don’t know.” Jim held her hand as she slid into the attic. “I think you should go stay with the girls, okay?”

  Karen scowled. “I can help-”

  Jim cut her off, “-I know you can, but I’d feel better if you stayed with the girls and kept them safe.”

  She knew Jim was right. If the people in the bus were here with bad intentions, she needed to be with the children. Karen dropped out of sight as she said, “Okay.”

  “Tell Frank to get ready.” Jim hollered into the garage.

  “I will.” She yelled back.

  Troy ran his hand over his beard. “You think they’re looking for a fight?”

  “God, I hope not.” Jim kept his gaze on the new vehicle. A section of the horde broke off from the main group and headed toward the noisy diesel engine.

  “Maybe they’re here to rescue us.” Sara tried to stay optimistic.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Jim helped lower Sara into the attic.

  Leon’s eyes flicked to the ground. “Do you think it’s the people from the radio? That church you were talking about? Could they be here to…” Leon looked at Cliff. “…collect?”

  Jim glanced at Cliff. The man knew they were talking about him. “Look, I don’t know, but what I do know is we need to get out of sight, arm ourselves and stay smart.” Jim hopped into the attic and headed inside.

  Karen moved with speed through the house on her way toward the bedroom. As she passed the entry into the living room, looking for Frank, she noticed he was gone. She poked her head into the room and scanned it.

  Eric was also missing!

  Where is that animal?

  Then she heard the unmistakable cry of her children.

  Her heart seized as she raced the rest of the way to the bedroom. Every twisted nightmare she could think up played in her mind.

  She thought about going back to get Jim and the others, but she couldn’t stop her body. Two seconds later she barged through the bedroom door. Karen ran into Frank, then she pushed past him.

  “Where are they?” She cried.

  Eric’s features went wild. “Speak of the devil.” He wiggled the chunk of glass under the crying child’s chin to show he meant business. “Close the door behind you. I don’t want any more intruders.”

  Shawna cracked a cold pack from her medical kit and handed it to Theo. His face was starting to swell. He took the square bag and pressed it to his eye. Dallas sat in his seat with his head slumped between his shoulders.

  Blaine held the radio so everyone in the bus could hear Brother Paul. His voice was seething even though the tiny speaker. ‘Can you see them?’

  Blaine moved the radio closer to his lips. “Six of them were out on the roof, taking down a sizable horde with some spears, they spotted us and headed indoors. What are your orders?” He moved the radio back for the others.

  The booze worked its way through Paul’s system, fueling a steady stream of anger. One part of him thought it would be a good idea to invite these survivors into the church. If it happened to be Jim Blackmore and his team in that house they could be good allies. He was a solid man and his group was more than capable. Plus Paul needed numbers to replenish his ranks after today’s tragedy.

  I could let bygones be bygones.

  There must be a reason Eric was attacked.

  When Paul interviewed Jim he seemed to be a decent family man. Exactly the kind of guy they wanted to have join the church. He didn’t strike Paul as the type to let people die needlessly.

  But the other side of Paul, the one that
believed in the part of The Bible that read, eye for an eye, wanted blood. If the people in that house killed his group and Eric, he wanted them to suffer, but Dallas and Blaine were outnumbered and could be walking into a trap. If Jim Blackmore was there and already killed six of Paul’s men, what would stop him from killing more? The alcohol and sorrow swirling inside of him made it difficult to stay logical.

  He settled on a line of action and keyed the receiver.

  A little static popped on the speaker before he began. ‘Proceed with caution. Offer them aid and supplies. Politely ask if they know what happened to the group in the truck. If Eric is still alive insist he comes home with you. If they say no, offer a trade of goods. Give them ammo or medical supplies. If they still say no, you have my permission to use force. If you find Eric has been murdered, or they become hostile, exterminate the group. Do you copy?’

  Shawna’s face went slack. “Is he serious?”

  Charlie narrowed his brow, “He wants us to kill them?”

  Dallas raised his head, “You heard him, only if they become hostile.”

  From the radio, ‘Do you copy?’

  Blaine took a deep breath and spoke into the radio, “We copy.”

  ‘Give Scott an update once the task is complete, over.’ Brother Paul left them to it.

  Blaine stowed the radio in his pocket as he scanned his group. Dallas’ chin touched his chest. He was still out of sorts and not ready to lead. Blaine spoke slowly to keep the fear he felt at his core from exposing his lisp. “You heard the man, first things first, we clear out the creepers rolling our direction. Hopefully it will earn us some good will credit with the people inside. Second we keep it light. We are ambassadors, here to help the surviving people of Vancouver. No fast talk or threatening gestures. We smile and ask how they are doing. Got it?”

  Shawna’s lips tightened, “I’m not here to kill anyone. This was supposed to be a rescue mission.”

  Blaine picked up his rifle and checked the mag. “This is still a rescue mission. I’m not here to kill anyone either. That’s why we can’t go banging on the front door making demands.”

  “What about them?” Charlie asked as he nodded at Theo and Dallas.

  Blaine got back behind the wheel and put the rig into reverse, “Dallas.”

  The big man didn’t look up.

  “Dallas!” Blaine shouted.

  He lifted his head. His expression was blank.

  Blaine cranked the wheel and backed up, so that the broad side of the bus faced the approaching horde. “Man, get your shit together. Apologize to Theo and get your damn head in the game. We need you sharp. If we walk up, say hello and they can sense there is a problem within our group, do you think they will open the door, or open fire?”

  Blaine’s speech rang true. Dallas knew he had been acting like a child and it was time for him to man up. He got out of his seat and took a few steps into the aisle. Theo kept the icepack covering his face so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. Dallas extended his hand. His apology was heartfelt and sincere. “I’m sorry Theo. I was out of line. I’ve seen too much destruction today and that’s no excuse to fly off the handle like that. I shouldn’t have hit you and I hope someday maybe you can forgive me?”

  Theo dropped the pack and looked up at the big man. His eye was halfway swollen shut. “We’re cool, man. Gotta turn the other cheek, right?” Theo reached up and shook Dallas’ hand.

  Dallas pointed at the horde, racing toward them. “We have some work to do.”

  Theo let go and picked up his rifle. “Let’s take these things down.”

  Everyone got into position on the driver’s side of the bus and aimed at the sprinting monsters.

  Jim and Sara grabbed their rifles from the duffle bag sitting on the counter.

  Sara checked her mag and popped it back into place. Troy and Leon entered from the garage and picked up their weapons. Troy slung his bandoliers so they crisscrossed his chest and checked his shotgun. Leon picked up a set of handguns. Jim made sure he had a few extra mags in his pocket.

  “What’s our play here, Jim?” Sara asked.

  It was an excellent question. The last time they had a run in with people it ended horribly. How could he make sure this one would work out better?

  Jim looked at the duffle bag, then around the room. “Where’s Frank?”

  Sara glanced about. “I don’t know. Where’s Cliff?”

  Karen closed the bedroom door. The sounds of her children suffering made her want to tear into that psycho Eric with a potato peeler. She made a promise to herself.

  If Eric puts a single scratch on my girls, I’ll skin him, cook the meat and feed him the jerky.

  “Boy, we did a number on each other didn’t we?” Eric couldn’t get through the sentence without coughing. His skin was as pale as the moon. “I think I’m bleeding internally.” He tried to laugh it off, but his giggles turned into coughs.

  Karen summoned her courage. “Let them go,” she said as she inched closer. With all of Eric’s wounds, she figured his reaction time would be much slower.

  Maybe I can grab the girls and get them out of his lap, so Frank can gun him down?

  Karen couldn’t guarantee both girls safety, not while he held that shiv to Valerie’s throat. She needed a different tactic.

  “I’m the one you want. If you let them go you can have me.” Karen moved a little closer.

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately? Besides, I’ve lost too much blood to possibly get a hard-on.” Eric spit out another mouthful of red gunk.

  From the kitchen they heard Jim yell, “Frank?”

  Eric’s eyelids blinked out of sync. “Lie to him.”

  Frank gnawed at his bottom lip and hollered out the corner of his mouth, “I’ll be right there.”

  Karen felt her whole body shaking. “What do you want?”

  “To watch you suffer as I slit their throats.” Eric grinned as if he was The Devil himself.

  Gunfire erupted outside.

  Eric flinched.

  Karen leaped, reaching for the shard of glass in Eric’s fist.

  Chapter 23

  The hail of gunfire from the bus ripped into the diseased bodies. It reminded Dallas of the video games he used to play as a kid. Wave after wave of Nazis or radioactive mutants would come rushing at the screen as you tore through thousands of rounds from the safety of the arcade. The bus and this street had the same safe feeling, only it was deafening inside the bus. The crack of their rifles echoed around the inside of the steel beast and pounded his eardrums, but aside from the pain there was something extremely satisfying about squeezing the trigger and seeing the head blow off his target.

  Do the others feel the same way as me?

  Dallas snuck a peek. Blaine had half a smile.

  That’s my buddy.

  Blaine had been Dallas’ closest adult friend for years. He was there in the good times and the downright nasty ones. He would help you move or come bail you out of jail. He let Dallas sleep on the couch for six months until he got his life straightened out after Cyndi left him. When it was time for Dallas to get sober, Blaine even came with him to the AA meetings. The truth was, without Blaine, Dallas would have most likely died, face down, in a drunk tank years ago. Dallas could count on Blaine and that was a difficult quality to find in most people.

  Dallas calculated how many rounds they had burned through and it was a few hundred rounds in a minute. There were only a handful of stragglers left in the street.

  Blaine set his rifle to the side and got in the driver’s seat. He popped the clutch and the bus lurched forward on its way for the house.

  Karen got both hands around Eric’s wrist and pulled it away from Valerie’s neck. She launched her shoulder into the side of Eric’s face. At the same moment Frank scooped both girls off the maniac’s lap, turned and stepped for the back master bathroom.

  Eric threw a kick, it landed at the base of Frank’s spine. It crippled him and Frank fell to his kn
ees. The kids landed on their feet as he fell forward and the girls took off running for the bathroom. They knew the drill now. When Mama is in a fight, you run and hide.

  Karen’s body felt numb. All of the wounds she had sustained in the car crash, the fight with Eric earlier, all of it didn’t matter, she had one job to do.

  Kill Eric.

  She saw red. She breathed fire. Her Mama Bear strength kicked into overdrive.

  This monster had crossed the line and touched her babies.

  He was going to pay.

  Karen squeezed Eric’s fist and the shard of glass dug deep into his fingers and palm. He grunted and hissed in pain. Eric’s vision must have been blurred, because he threw a punch at Karen and it missed her completely. Karen drove her feet into the carpet and climbed further up onto the bed. She mounted Eric and forced his bleeding hand to the edge of the mattress. She dropped an elbow into his ribs and knocked out all the air in his lungs.

  Karen shook his wrist, trying to get the shard to fall. She grunted, “Drop it!” but the makeshift blade was stuck in his skin. Eric couldn’t put it down if he wanted. He squirmed under her weight and tried to get out, but he was too weak. He got his lungs working again, but broke out into a coughing fit that shut him down completely.

  Frank pressed a hand against his spine and rubbed away the pain. It caused him agony, but he got his feet under him, stepped across the room and hit Eric with the butt of his gun.

  Eric’s body went limp. Karen reached for the shard and with her fingertips she gently yanked it out of his fist, slicing his fingers to the bone.

  Karen tossed it to the floor, un-holstered her pistol and forced it under Eric’s jaw. Her finger curled around the trigger. She wanted to see the inside of his skull. Karen begged for the crack of her pistol and the sound of the bullet ripping through his flesh. She was ready to bathe in his blood. This man deserved, nah earned a bullet to the brain, anything less than his death would be a slap on Eric’s wrist.