The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  Cliff had no idea what was happening. He heard two shots then a little yelling and now gunshots were all around him. It sounded like they were shooting at him.

  This is ridiculous!

  Why am I hiding here?

  He couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed the door knob and opened the foyer closet. Cliff stepped out of the tiny room. All of the shooting was going on behind him. He peeked around the corner and looked into the kitchen. A group of strangers were huddled together behind the counter. They were facing the other direction and didn’t see him. It looked like they were trying to destroy the kitchen wall. Cliff snuck back the other way and peered into the living room. The others were doing the same, blindly firing at the wall.

  What the hell is going on?

  The weight of the machete in his hand drew his attention to the weapon.

  I could end this and save our people.

  Karen pulled her girls to the bathroom floor and covered them with her body. Bullets sounded like they were coming from every direction.

  Why is everyone shooting?

  Is Jim okay?

  She had a million questions and no way to answer them. Karen swore she heard a body fall to the ground and had no idea if it was Frank’s or Jim’s. Once the shooting was done, would it be her side or theirs standing victorious? There wasn’t much she could do other than stay with the girls and shield them from the gunfire.

  Jim had sparred with all different sized men and women in his class. He was used to facing off against someone big, like Dallas. It wasn’t usually a problem to defend himself. Jim’s speed allowed him to move in, deliver a strike, and get back out of the way before the slower moving punch got to him. The problem was if they did manage to land a punch, even with sparring gloves and headgear on, it could be lights out.

  Jim was already nursing a broken nose, gash to the forehead, and a nasty cut above his ankle. Plus his whole body ached from the car crashes and falls he had taken yesterday. Jim had no desire to square off, but he didn’t have a choice. Dallas was a raging bull that wanted to destroy everyone in his path.

  There wasn’t a lot of room to move in the bedroom. A queen sized bed took up most of the space and the oversized dressers filled the rest. Frank’s body laid on the floor between the bed and the back wall so Jim had a narrow gap to work with. Jim knew if Dallas got his hands on him he would be finished. It would be impossible to out muscle a guy like him. A bear hug or a choke hold would mean Jim’s death.

  Jim was going to have to out punch the mountain of muscle in order to survive this fight.

  Dallas threw a classic, big guy, bar room haymaker. Jim extended his arm and blocked it while throwing another palm strike at Dallas’ jaw. It landed more like an uppercut and flung the big man’s head straight back.

  Bullets ripped all around Sara. She flipped a coffee table on its side and hid behind it. The white powder from the exploding sheetrock mixed with gun smoke and made it difficult to see and breathe. It looked like a thick fog had rolled into the living room. Troy was at her side reloading his shotgun. She pointed to her weapon and signaled to him she was out of ammo.

  He mouthed the words, “Stay down.” and fired all six of his shots at the crumbling wall.

  Leon felt like an action movie star. He had a pistol in both hands and a squad of hitmen trying to kill him. A heavy duty computer desk sat in the corner of the living room. He pushed it on its face and ducked behind the thicker drawers. As both of his pistols slide locked he realized two things.

  One, he forgot to grab extra magazines for these guns.

  Two, he hated being the action star in this movie.

  Dallas’ bell was rung hard, but he had a job to do. Brother Paul said to exterminate them and that was exactly what Dallas was going to do. His jaw ached and he was positive he had a cracked tooth from the uppercut Jim landed. His nose was swollen and full of blood, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He didn’t recall it hurting so badly when he’d gotten into bar room brawls back in the day.

  That’s because I was blind stinking drunk during those fights.

  Dallas was impressed how fast this guy was. He had only fought other drunk idiots and had no formal martial arts training. Before he knew it Jim hit him three more times in the face. Each time Dallas was punched it made him madder and madder. He was seeing red. His frustration got him so twisted up inside he began to blame all of this mess on Jim and his people.

  It’s their fault I’m not at the church right now.

  They killed Eric and his team.

  They made me kill that old man.

  And now I’m going to slaughter this little prick.

  Dallas summoned all of his strength and threw a powerful right cross. It blew through Jim’s defenses and smashed into his lips. Dallas dropped his head, lowered his shoulder and bull-rushed Jim. They slammed into the wall. He wrapped his bulging arms around Jim’s torso and squeezed, but before he could activate his full strength and squash the shit out of the guy, Jim stomped the top of Dallas’ foot, kneed him in the gut and crashed an elbow into the side of his face. Dallas felt lightheaded and his brain was pounding in his skull. He knew a few more hits like that and he’d be down for the count.

  To save himself from another elbow to the face Dallas decided to throw Jim. He drove his shoulder into Jim’s stomach, hooked his arms around his legs and stood up.

  Jim went flying across the room, flipped through the air and crash landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Dallas took a step toward the man on the floor and realized Jim had broken a few of his toes when he stomped on his foot.

  “You son-of-a-bitch! You broke my foot.” Dallas limped across the floor. “You’re dead!”

  Jim’s lungs stopped working and his spine radiated with pain. His mouth was wide open like a fish on dry land. He heard the awkward steps coming his way. His eyes flicked up as Dallas slid his pistol from the holster strapped to his leg. Jim tried to sit up, but his body wasn’t responding. Dallas raised his pistol and pointed it at his victim’s skull.

  Jim begged for his body to move.

  Finally he forced his lungs to work again. Jim sucked in one sharp, painful breathe and yelled, “Karen!”

  Dallas’ head tilted to the side, “Who?”

  “Me!”

  Dallas turned to see who was talking behind him. A woman was standing in the bathroom doorway. She was attractive, except for her broken features. He thought to himself. Man, some asshole gave her one hell of a beating.

  He was so busy looking at her swollen face he didn’t see the toilet tank lid racing toward his face.

  CHONG!

  Blaine and his team clicked empty and the house went quiet for a second as they loaded fresh magazines.

  “What are we gonna-” Theo stopped mid-sentence when he saw a wild man racing into the kitchen with a machete. He began to scream, but the sound of terror was cut short. The blade slashed a five inch gash in Theo’s throat. His scream turned into a gargle as he sprayed gore into his attackers face.

  Charlie turned to see what Theo was screaming about and the machete’s edge caught him down the side. The razor sharp tool opened up his stomach. Intestines spilled out onto the kitchen floor. Charlie howled like a wounded animal. He dropped his weapon and tried to scoop his guts back into his side. Shawna threw down her weapon and went to Charlie’s aid. His insides were so slimy she was unable to get a grip on them and help force them back into his body.

  “Hold on Charlie, I’ve got you.” Shawna screeched.

  Charlie was hysterical. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” I’m dying.”

  Blaine clicked the magazine into his gun and released the bolt. He was cornered and before he could turn to face the blood soaked wacko, the tip of the machete plunged into Blaine’s back. He screamed in agony. His hand reached for his back. His fingers curled around the blade as the stranger pushed the machete farther into his torso. Blaine’s legs gave out. The weapon was wedged so deep into his body he ended up taking it
with him as he crashed to the hardwood.

  Blaine looked back at the chunk of metal jutting from him. The pain along with the knowledge of his impending death caused him to revert back to old habits.

  “You thabed me with a mathete.” He gritted his teeth and hated that his last words were spoken with a lisp.

  Cliff stepped back from the mayhem he had caused. Blood trickled into his eye and his vision went red. He called to the others. “I’ve got them!” Cliff ran his sleeve over his face. He kept his face buried in the crook of his elbow until he heard the others come in through the dining room. He looked back at Sara and said, “It’s safe. I got th-”

  Bang!

  The side of Cliff’s skull caved in, then the other side exploded out onto the cabinets behind him.

  Leon reached for Cliff’s falling body and caught him before he crashed to the floor. Troy racked his shotgun and stormed into the kitchen. “Drop it!” He pointed his gun at the man with a machete sticking out of his back.

  Blaine dropped his rifle and fell to his side. Every inch of the kitchen was dripping with goo. The panic stricken woman was desperately trying to shove a handful of guts back into a dying man. She glanced around the room. Theo was gone. Charlie’s eyelids fluttered a few more times then he expired. Blaine was curled up in a ball. The machete sticking in his back would have hit a kidney, liver and intestines. Even the best doctors in the world wouldn’t be able to save him now.

  She raised her blood soaked hands in the air and said, “I didn’t want any of this to happen. Please don’t kill me.”

  Karen’s injured wrist stung like hell from the massive vibration off the tank lid. She hit the giant man’s head so hard that he spun like a top and crashed into the vanity. Karen dropped the heavy hunk of porcelain and rushed to Jim’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Jim groaned, “No.”

  “Did you get the wind knocked out of you?” Karen tried to get Jim to sit up.

  He nodded his head, unable to form a full sentence. Karen checked the room. Her breath was stolen when she found Frank’s body lying next to the bed. There was no time to mourn right now, she had to keep moving.

  “Come on we have to get you and the girls out of here.” She pushed Jim’s body to sit him up.

  Dallas looked at his face in the vanity. He didn’t recognize himself. His nose made a hard right angled turn off his face. His orbital socket was misshapen and the eye had completely swollen shut. He opened his mouth to stretch his jaw and a few teeth fell out onto the vanity.

  In that moment all he could think about was.

  Maxine won’t recognize me now.

  In the mirror’s reflection he could see the woman lifting Jim from the floor. Dallas realized he had lost his gun when she hit him with the lid, but he still had his knife. It took all of his concentration to steady himself enough to reach for the blade on his belt. His hands shook so badly it reminded him of the first time he got sober.

  Cyndi and Maxine were gone and he had just lost his job. Dallas was on the worst bender of his life in an attempt to kill himself. His cell phone had been shut off due to a very late payment and he couldn’t get hold of Blaine to come get him. He stumbled out of the bar and wandered for miles before he crashed to the ground and passed out. The next morning Brother Paul found him laying out in the parking lot of the church. This was the first time they met and Paul hit Dallas with a whopper of a question.

  Dallas remembered rolling to his back and looking up at the man. The sun was at his back and shined all around him. He looked like an angel floating down from Heaven. His voice was so deep and powerful it sobered Dallas up better than a cup of coffee.

  ‘When God comes to collect your soul young man, is this how you want him to find you?’

  That’s what stuck with Dallas the most. This was not the first time he had fallen asleep on someone’s property. Normally they yelled at him to leave or threatened to call the police on his ass. The question was so simple and pure there was only one answer.

  No, he didn’t.

  Paul reached out with his hand and said, ‘Come inside and let’s have a chat. You look like you could use a cold glass of water.’

  Dallas took his hand, followed him into the building and his life only got better from that day forward. That was until he stepped into this bedroom.

  His thumb clicked the strap and he slid the blade from its sheath. He turned toward the couple and hobbled his way across the room. He had never in his life hit a woman, but he felt this bitch had it coming. He caught Karen with the back of his hand. The hit tossed her up onto the bed and she landed on Eric’s body. Dallas stepped closer to Jim and dropped to his knees. He held the knife in both hands and brought the blade straight for Jim’s heart.

  Jim regained control of his lungs and his spine was finally able to move. The wicked looking blade was a foot away from piercing his skin. He threw a block with his forearm. It made contact with Dallas’ wrist and Jim was able to redirect the tip of the knife. Instead of his heart it hit him in the shoulder. The blade sunk three inches into the meat of his deltoid and felt like it had pinned him to the floor. The pain was unlike anything Jim had experienced before. The stitches Sara put in his body paled in comparison to the blinding agony in his shoulder. Before he could scream, before he could even think about screaming, Dallas had his fingers wrapped around Jim’s throat. His oxygen was cut immediately. Cliff had choked him about an hour ago, but it felt nothing like this. Dallas’ grip strength was like his forearms were made out of hydraulics. Even if there wasn’t a knife pinning Jim to the floor he wasn’t sure he could break out of this hold. The ceiling looked like it was spinning away from him. He was about to black out.

  Dallas spit blood when he talked. His face was three-inches from Jim’s. “Brother Paul said to exterminate you and God speaks through him. That means God wants you dead.”

  “Hey!”

  Dallas looked up from Jim’s twisted face.

  Karen had Frank’s revolver aimed at his skull.

  Boom!

  Dallas’ brains ripped out the back of his head. A fountain of gore rushed out of the grapefruit sized hole and onto Jim’s face.

  Karen grunted, “Then he should’ve sent someone better than you!”

  Chapter 25

  Karen rushed off the mattress to Jim’s side.

  “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Karen panicked as she pushed the corpse from her husband’s body. Jim spit a mouthful of gunk to the floor. As he sucked in the breath of air it tasted sweeter than any before in his life. He gripped the knife’s handle and hissed. Jim looked up at his beautiful bride, his savior and the wonderful mother of his fantastic children. She had a fresh split in her lip from the back of Dallas’ hand and her eyes were glassy.

  Jim mustered a cheesy grin. “Nice one liner.”

  Karen made a sound that was half laugh and half cry. She reached for the knife’s handle and said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s get you up. Ready?”

  “No!”

  Karen yanked the blade from his shoulder. Jim let out a mashup of curse words.

  “I’ll get you some towels. Then let’s get the hell out of here.” She helped Jim sit up onto his butt.

  Leon set Cliff’s body on the kitchen floor as Troy and Sara discussed what their next move should be. Leon was full of mixed emotions. He was happy the father was going to be with his children and wife. He was also glad he wouldn’t have to keep an eye on him anymore. Leon took a quick look at the slaughterhouse that was the kitchen. His fear of this guy becoming a psycho maniac was all justified. He was also a little pleased that the guy who crushed his nuts got some payback. It was definitely a more harsh punishment that karma rolled out on Cliff, but you should never hit a man in his balls.

  That got Leon thinking.

  Maybe karma is all out of whack with the planet going to hell.

  He had never been happier that he didn’t pull the trigger on Jim this morning.

  It could be me l
aying here on this kitchen floor with my brains blown out.

  It made him think about his actions and how he should proceed in the coming weeks. People that do horrible things seem to get their comeuppance quickly in this infected, zombie filled, nasty dog eat dog world.

  I’d better watch my P’s and Q’s.

  Karen hobbled out of the hallway. She propped up Jim and carried him into the kitchen. He had a towel wrapped around his shoulder and the girls were next to them. Valerie was doing her best to help steady her father and Robin held his free hand.

  Karen groaned, “Girls go wait for us by the garage door. Troy, can you help me with him?” The girls scurried out of the room and raced around the cabinets to wait by the door.

  Troy swung his gun’s strap up onto his shoulder and grabbed a hold of Jim. “I’ve got you buddy.” Jim tossed his good arm over Troy’s shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I fought a giant.” Jim looked woozy. They needed to stop the bleeding in his shoulder right away.

  Sara loaded a new mag into her gun and noticed Frank’s revolver in Karen’s fist, “Where’s Frank?” She feared the answer, but asked anyway.

  “Dead. That big guy killed him.” Karen sounded like a busted robot. She caught a glimpse of the blood soaked woman cowering on the kitchen floor. “What’s your name?”

  “Shawna,” she pointed up at Jim’s shoulder. “I’m an E.M.T. I can help you with him, just don’t kill me.”