The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  “What?” Arthur wiped a snowflake from his lashes.

  “We could wipe it out. Ever last citizen.” Regan pointed to the scar on his scalp. “My cancer is back. I’ve got less than six months. It’s time to go crazy, you know, fuck it all. If we hang together, we’ve got a better chance to make it. A trooper rolls up on us. He’d have a hell of a time trying to take all four of us down. Safety in numbers or whatever.”

  Jacob and Zarren nodded at him. Everyone was onboard.

  “We got a party to get to then. It’s almost New Year’s Eve.” Arthur gazed up the ravine to the highway. “Boys, it’s too steep for me. If I was twenty years younger I could make it, but there ain’t no way in hell I’m getting up there with these,” he said as he waved his claws at Zarren. The big man just stared through him and never gave an ounce of emotion.

  Jacob pointed down the hill towards the end of the ravine. It was difficult to see through the forest, but the highway switched back and laid about three hundred yards down the steep hill.

  He led them through the trees and they inched away from the crash site. The pitch was so extreme that it forced them to slide on their butts and crawl down through the snow. They used the evergreens as stopping points to catch their breath and slow their descent. Their cotton jumpsuits soaked up every drop of moisture they came in contact with. It was miserable, but in comparison to prison it was heaven.

  Halfway down Jacob noticed his legs were not working as well as before and his fingers felt slow.

  They must be going numb. He thought.

  The trees parted and the highway lay before them. The bus tracks were already halfway filled in. The ground began to level out and Jacob could stand upright. A mighty gust came crashing down the highway. It whipped Jacob’s wet hair into his face and the howl of wind filled his ears. It was so loud on the mountain he didn’t hear the work van approaching. Carl’s Plumbing was stenciled in white on the side of the blue van. Its chained tires dug into the snow as it skidded to a stop feet from Jacob.

  The window rolled down, “Damn, buddy. Are you alright?”

  Another flurry knocked a chunk of snow off Jacob’s jumpsuit, revealing his prison number.

  “Oh, shit!” Carl the plumber cursed. He didn’t notice the others coming down out of the tree line. His focus was on the stringy haired escaped convict in front of him.

  Carl shifted into reverse.

  Regan raced, gun drawn and aiming into the open window, “Hands off the wheel!” he commanded.

  Carl raised his hands, “Take the van, but let-”

  Regan cut him off, “Get in the back,” he said as he reached into the window, popped the lock and swung the door open.

  “I got kids!” Carl hyperventilated.

  Regan pulled himself up into the passenger’s side, “Get in the back!”

  Jacob observed Regan’s work. The baldheaded man was quick and precise. He climbed in, popped Carl in the nose with the butt of the gun and pushed him out of the driver’s seat. Carl disappeared into the darkness at the back of the van. Regan pulled the side door open and let Arthur and Zarren into their new ride. The van swayed to the left as Zarren entered and slammed the door shut. Regan climbed behind the wheel.

  “Come on Jacob, move it,” Regan called to him.

  Jacob’s body shook. It could have been from the ice forming on his jump suit. He was born without the ability to register injuries or pain. Doctors called it congenital insensitivity. Jacob had a lifetime of not knowing if his flesh was burned, cut or broken. His disease made it near impossible to know what his body needed or wanted. Maybe it was the freezing conditions, but Jacob was positive it was from the excitement. He was going to be on his way to a town. To spill blood. To add to his list. To continue his Reckoning.

  He moved with purpose to the opened door. He slid into the seat, closed the door and then the window. Jacob pressed the button on the glove box. The normal insurance and registration filled the small compartment. He dug to the bottom and found what he was looking for, a map. He had read every sign and street name on the trip to the hospital and felt he had a pretty good idea where they were in the state of Oregon.

  The back of the van had pipes of all sizes and tools for the plumbing trade. An extra chair sat with its back to Regan. Arthur took the seat and buckled himself in. He was out of breath and exhausted. Regan stepped on the gas and got rolling. The tires slid at first and then the chains caught hold and they were off.

  Carl cowered in the corner of the van. The bulge on his nose oozed blood. Zarren dropped to his knees so he could fit. Carl reached for the latch to the backdoor. Zarren caught Carl by the wrist and yanked his arm away from the handle. The monster sized convict pulled Carl’s hand close to his wide chest. At first it looked like Zarren wanted Carl to feel his heartbeat.

  “Please let me go,” Carl coughed blood.

  Zarren used his free hand to clutch Carl’s trapped fist, “I didn’t say you could touch that.” He twisted Carl’s hand. His wrist snapped like kindling. Carl’s eyes bulged, his jaw dropped. No sound escaped. The skin around the wrist was stretched on one side and wrinkled on the other. His palm facing the wrong direction.

  Zarren took a moment to look over the stash of tools. He popped open a rusty tool box. On top of the other tools lay a well-used ballpeen hammer.

  Carl’s lungs filled and let out an ear-piercing howl. Zarren drew the weapon from the rusty box. The head of the hammer ground along the ceiling as Zarren dropped it on to Carl’s ankle. His white athletic sock turned crimson. The impact left a divot. The joint was destroyed. The big guy had time to kill and he wanted to play. The wrist and ankle were just the beginning. Carl’s end would not be clean or quick.

  Jacob unfolded the map and got his bearings. He wished Zarren would just finish off the screamer in the back of the van. He never found pleasure in making them suffer. There was less chance for them to escape if you finished them off quickly. Jacob’s index finger glided across the map. He knew they were on Highway Twelve. Less than ten miles away was the next town. Sweet Home.

  Chapter 4

  New age music thumped through the room’s in-ceiling speakers. The rubber mat under Duke’s face had been flooded with perspiration. He had one leg tucked behind his neck and the other driving into the mat. His palm pressed firmly against the ground holding most of his weight. His free arm extended high into the air above him. Duke’s toned body twisted and flexed as he held this very difficult pose. Lisa called it the Destroyer of the Universe. Duke found that title very appropriate.

  Lisa whispered, “Breathe.” She was in the same pose as Duke, and made it look effortless. “Ten more seconds… and release.”

  Duke quickly untangled his appendages and dropped to his knees as he faced Lisa. He toweled away a gallon of sweat, “Something must be really upsetting you. That was brutal.”

  “I’ll see you at the next class?” Lisa remained emotionless.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Duke said as he gathered his belongings and left the room.

  As Duke headed back to the locker room, Dominic was on his way out. He was showered, cleaned and dressed in his dark blue police uniform. A heavy coat was tucked over his forearm and a duffle bag hung from his shoulder. The initials S.H.S.D were marked in gold on the side of the bag.

  “Deputy,” Duke nodded.

  “Duke, Sherriff wanted me to talk to you about your hood ornament.”

  Duke paused and exhaled a long breath. “Yes?”

  Dominic slid one arm into his coat. A shiny bronzed badge hung from its breast. “It’s got to go. Hang it on a wall in your cabin, donate it to The Oasis, but get it off the front of your truck. It’s a public safety hazard.”

  Duke growled, “Some say that about you.”

  Dominic zipped his coat and puffed out his chest, “Have it down before the start of the new year.”

  Duke stared the officer down, “Yes, sir, you son-of-a-bit-”

  The radio on Dominic’s shoulder squawked an
d cut Duke off, “Deputy Spence? Please head down to the station.”

  Dominic turned his head and thumbed the transmitter, “I’m on my way.” When he looked back Duke had disappeared into the locker room.

  Ben sat in front of a computer screen in the gym’s office. Photos of Lisa and Ben were on every wall. Their wedding day, trips to Disneyland and Las Vegas, running marathons, dressed up as zombies at Halloween, and the two of them giving each other cheers with flutes of champagne. Framed family portraits were hung proudly. A set of twins, a boy and girl, joined Ben and Lisa in most of the photos. The most recent picture of their family unit sat on the desk next to the phone. The kids were now fifteen.

  Lisa stepped past the open door to the office. She had a towel draped over her shoulders.

  Ben didn’t look up from his computer screen as he spoke, “We only need a hundred people to sign up next week.”

  “Hmm,” her focus shifted around the room.

  “If we don’t, I’m not sure how we are going to pay… anything,” Ben said as he clicked at his mouse.

  “I need to pick up a few groceries for dinner. Can you get the kids?” Lisa turned and stepped from the doorway before he answered.

  Ben checked to make sure she was gone before he responded, “Sure, I wasn’t doing anything.”

  Duke exited the locker room, showered and dressed in his street clothes, he headed straight for the main door as he pulled on his stocking cap. Waiting for him behind the front counter was Ben. He had all his winter gear on and was ready to leave.

  “Heading out?” Duke asked.

  “I’ve got to get the kids. I doubt anyone else will show up today.” Ben stepped out from behind the counter and flipped off a bank of light switches on the wall next to the door. “Will we see you at the party tonight?”

  “Perhaps, Sheldon has been harping on me about getting out more. I take it you and the Mrs. will be there?” Duke picked up his coat from the rack.

  “I’ll be there. Trying my best to guilt people into signing back up for the New Year. I don’t know what Lisa has planned.” Ben pulled out his keys as he waited for Duke.

  Hearing this stopped Duke in his tracks, “Here is some advice and please take it. It is of the utmost importance that you make sure your lips are pressed against your beautiful wife’s the moment the ball drops on Times Square. I missed a year once and my second wife was gone by February.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Ben held the door open for Duke.

  They stepped out of the gym and onto Main Street. Mountains surrounded the town on all sides. A fresh blanket of snow covered everything in white. Small businesses lined the street and holiday decorations were hung with cheer. Duke’s 1974 Ford pickup was parked at an angle in front of the gym. Attached to the front grill was a massive twelve point deer head and neck. It protruded nearly four-feet from the front bumper. Dominic was right. It was a public safety issue.

  Ben locked the front door and shook it three times to make sure it was secure.

  Duke stepped off the sidewalk and leaned next to his trophy. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and struck a match off the deer’s antlers. “Sheriff wants me to take this down, can you believe that?”

  “Yes, I can. It’s begging to impale someone,” Ben said as he turned to face Duke.

  “The only blood it’s ever drawn was mine.” Duke’s uncovered eye zeroed in on one of the pink stained points.

  “All right, well if I don’t see you tonight, have a good New Year’s.” Ben extended his hand and the two shook on it.

  “You too, Mr. Williams.” Duke blew a lung full of smoke out the corner of his mouth. “And I hope you give my advice a second thought.”

  Ben smiled, released Duke’s hand and headed down the sidewalk in the direction of Bill and Tad’s Excellent Video Adventure.

  Lisa wrapped her knuckles against an impressive solid oak door. The house attached to this marvelous door was a two story brick mansion at the end of a cul-de-sac. Brass letters were bolted to the exterior, they read M.D. Thomas Evans. An elderly man with thick glasses opened the door.

  “Lisa? It’s a holiday. I’m not open for business.”

  “It’s an emergency.” Lisa didn’t wait to be asked in, she gently stepped past Thomas and entered the house.

  Lisa nervously waited on the examination table in the Doctor’s home office. A little red seeped through the cotton ball taped to her arm. The room was furnished with everything a practicing physician would need to see patients. Degrees and diplomas hung with pride next to the main door. Adjacent to the framed certificates of achievement were photos of the doctor and some patients. The pictures spanned decades. One framed photo always bugged Lisa. It was a photo of her and Evans when she was eight-years-old. The chubby cheeks on her fat little face drove her nuts.

  Dr. Evans stood across from her as he looked over the test results. He cleared his throat, “So I know how to best deliver the news, what exactly are we hoping to hear today?”

  Lisa broke into tears. Her shaking hands covered her face. Dr. Evans put down the test and stepped closer to Lisa. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. She sobbed.

  “It’s okay. I promise it’s all going to be okay. No matter how bad you think it is, I swear, in the end everything will work out.” He pulled her away to look her in the face and deliver her an award winning smile.

  Lisa babbled at a rapid pace, “We’re about to lose the gym and the house. Ben and I have talked about getting a divorce. I’m forty-five years old and if I am pregnant I don’t know who the father is.”

  Evans drank in all that info. Processed it and managed a quarter of a smile, “It might be years from now, but it all will work itself out.”

  A snot bubble formed in her nose, “Are you saying I am pregnant?”

  Ben entered the video store. The place buzzed with excitement. A newly released action movie played over the store’s speakers. Customers were in every aisle. Two guys in their thirties stood behind the register ringing up customers as fast as possible.

  The bigger of the two men had a name tag on that read “Bill.” He wore a set of jazzy black rimmed glasses and a luxurious beard. He waved and said, “Ben! Are you here to snag our interns?” Then he rubbed at his pot belly. “The holidays tore me a new belt size. I’m signing up at your gym tomorrow. You can run me through a monster of a workout, cool?”

  “Sounds great. Where are they?” Ben stepped out of the way of a speedy video renter.

  The smaller of the two men behind the register had a name tag that read, Tad. He proudly wore a mustache that curled up at the ends and a snap-brimmed-hat. He pointed. “Putting away a stack in horror.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said as he side stepped by a young couple and headed for the back corner. Even though it was a longer route he skipped by the westerns. It was in that aisle, twenty-years ago when the store was called Vic’s Videos, that he met Lisa. He bypassed the aisle, but the memory of their first meeting played in his mind anyway.

  It was 1996. Ben and Lisa both reached for the same copy of The Quick and the Dead. He was a big Sam Raimi, Evil Dead fan. Lisa was a big Leonardo DiCaprio, Growing Pains fan. They started to argue about who was going to rent it, but when Ben locked eyes with her he stopped mid-sentence. Lisa had the greenest set of peepers he had ever seen. They were like staring at two magic emeralds. She was so beautiful. It was like she hit him with a freeze-ray. Noticing he was catatonic, Lisa took the opportunity. She swiftly reached out, plucked the movie from his hand and said. “Thanks, buddy.” Lisa made it halfway down the aisle before guilt set in. She pivoted as Ben started to defrost and asked. “You want to come over and watch it with me?”

  The rerun stopped playing in Ben’s mind as he turned into the aisle marked horror. A thin, fifteen-year-old girl, held a stack of Blu-rays. She searched the rack for the next movie’s location.

  Ben called to the girl, loudly, so he could be heard over the movie playing in the background, “
MaKelle?”

  This spooked the young woman so badly she dropped the movies and let out a scream. “Dang it, Dad. I’m in the horror section. I’m on edge Pops.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ben chewed at his lip to keep from smiling.

  “You have to announce yourself early. People my age can suffer from heart attacks too, you know,” she said as she pressed her finger tips to her chest. After the shock wore off she reached out for her father and gave him a hug. Ben’s daughter looked like a clone of Lisa. MaKelle released her dad and bent down to pick up cases. Her dad helped.

  “You finish this stack and I’ll grab your coat.”

  “Dad, it’s the rush. I can’t leave now. They need me.”

  “You guys work for free rentals. I think Bill and Tad can make it without you. Where‘s your brother?”

  “In the back.”

  Ben handed MaKelle the last movie and headed to the back office.

  He turned the knob and opened the door as he said, “Hayden?”

  Two startled teens stopped kissing and jumped away from each other. Their cheeks were flushed. Clearly they had been smooching for a while.

  “Dad?” Hayden yelped. The two teenage boys didn’t know what to do with their nervous hands. They shifted from arms crossed to hands on their hips back to arms crossed as they waited for the adult to talk first.

  “Hayden? Andrew? I was just coming to take you and MaKelle home.”

  Andrew’s voice cracked. “Hello, Mr. Williams. He was helping me find a movie.”

  “In his mouth?” Ben questioned. “Grab your sister’s jacket and meet me at the front?” Ben stepped out of the office’s door frame.

  Andrew wiped excessive saliva from his lips. “Do you think he’s mad?”

  Hayden grabbed the two coats and headed for the door, “No, sweetheart. You’re not the first boy he’s found me kissing and you won’t be the last.”