by Tim Moon
“I’m good.” Ben could walk just fine. He just had to hold his arm still.
Chadwick cried out. Ty and Ben whipped around and looked at their friend, who was rolling back and forth on the ground, holding his leg to his chest.
Ben cursed. “You shoot,” he said to Ty.
Ben ran over and helped Chadwick up. Blood poured out of his shin onto the concrete pier.
There was a thunk followed by a loud boom behind them. Ben glanced back as he held Chadwick as another thunk sounded, followed a moment later by another boom. Kaholo’s truck exploded into a ball of fire.
“Oh God, it hurts,” Chadwick groaned.
“We just have to get to the ship,” Ben said. He threw one of Chadwick’s arms over his good shoulder and helped him along as best he could without aggravating his own injury. The Brit was thin and light. Limping along, leaving a trail of blood, they rushed to get to the walkway.
Both of them groaned in pain from their injuries.
Anuhea ran over to help. Chadwick threw his arm over her shoulders and the three of them quickly covered the remaining distance. Ben looked up and saw Kaholo operating the .50 cal machine gun and Keanu alternately launching grenades and shooting at their attackers.
They reached the walkway and Chadwick grabbed the railings and hobbled across the walkway. Charlotte helped him across and knelt down beside him as he plopped down on the deck.
“Let’s go Ty!” Anuhea shouted at him.
Ben turned to see what Ty was doing. He had assumed his friend was right behind them.
Ty was kneeling on the ground, shooting back the way they’d come. Ben was impressed that he was shooting, much less out in the open fighting. There was too much noise, Ty couldn’t hear them. Ben held his arm against his chest, gritted his teeth and started to jog toward his friend.
“Ty, let’s go,” he shouted repeatedly.
Ben pulled out the pistol that 1LT Franco gave him. He fired once every few steps, just to distract the people shooting at them. Once Ben had crossed almost half of the distance, Ty seemed to hear his shouts, not to mention his shots. His head snapped around and looked at him. Ty looked shocked to see Ben walking toward him. Seeing that Ty heard, Ben slowed and waved his friend on to follow him back to the ship.
Movement beside the Humvee drew his attention away from Ty and he frowned when he saw two attackers jump between the vehicle and the damaged fence. They ran shooting at them wildly.
The two men ran toward them, but to Ben it looked as though they moved in slow motion. Their mouths opened in battle cries as they fired wildly in his direction. Ben watched for a moment, shocked, but quickly snapped out of it when he saw the infected hot on their tails.
Ben fired the 9mm pistol until it was empty. None of the rounds found their mark, but it slowed the two men down a little.
Facing the massive horde of infected behind them, taking their chances on the pier must have seemed like the wisest choice. Although Ben might have gone for one of the buildings, like the other guy did.
Ty stood and began to run, limping, toward Ben and the ship.
Ben stepped to the side of the pier and levered his rifle under his good arm. He felt like a 1980’s action star, firing from the hip like a nut. The gun recoiled in his grip, but he managed to fire it just fine. Blood trickled down his injured arm.
Gritting his teeth, Ben brought up his hand to help steady the rifle. He wanted to drop the guys before they got too close. The .50 cal fired a burst that stitched a path up the pier in front of the men. One dove out of the way, but the other was too slow and he caught a round that obliterated his torso.
Ben’s mind had a hard time processing the way the human fell apart like blocks knocked over by an angry toddler. He pushed it aside and focused on what he could do. Infected began to crawl through the gap, pursuing the men onto the pier.
Lying on the ground, the survivor growled in rage and fired his gun.
Ben shifted his aim to shoot him.
Ty sprinted down the pier as fast as he could move. Adrenalin must have deadened the pain in his leg, because he was hauling ass. Then his body twitched, a shocked expression twisted his face and he looked at Ben as he slowed down. A red stain grew on his shirt and he fell to his knees.
“Ty!” Ben dropped his rifle and ran to his friend. It was a mere ten yards, but it may as well have been one hundred.
Skidding to a stop beside his friend as another burst of .50 cal rounds buzzed past them tearing apart the shooter, Ben knelt beside Ty.
“Come on, buddy. We have to go. Let’s get you to Charlotte,” Ben said, tears filling his eyes. “She’s a…she’s a nurse. She can help…fix…help you.”
“Ben…” Ty said. He pulled his hands away from the blood soaked shirt and stared in surprise at his hands. “The fucker shot me.”
“You’ll be okay. I’ve got ya.” Ben tried to lift up Ty, but his friend cried out in pain.
“No!” Ty panted in pain. He looked pale. “I’m sorry…”
“What?”
“I’m sorry for being a dick. I broke the…” Ty gasped for air, blood bubbled in his mouth. Tears filled his eyes. “…golden rule.”
“Don’t be a dick.” Ben smiled through his own tears. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“For…forgi-”
Ty let out a breath and slumped forward, collapsing into Ben’s chest.
Tears dripped down his face as he caught Ty.
“No, Ty! It’s okay, man.” Ben shook him. “I forgive you. It’s okay. Don’t go.”
Ty didn’t move. A tiny ribbon of blood trailed out of the corner of his mouth and a tear slid out of the corner of Ty’s lifeless eye.
“No!” Ben shouted.
60
The cool breeze dried the tears on Ben’s cheeks. He sat on the ship’s deck beside the covered body of his friend. Ben couldn’t bear the thought of the infected defiling his body, so they’d brought it on board to bury him at sea.
The pier was far behind them. They watched it recede in the distance as the fire consumed the husks of the vehicles and some of the infected as well.
Anuhea sat beside Ben, although he hardly noticed her presence. Charlotte was tending to Chadwick below deck, patching up his leg.
So much pain and death, Ben thought. A sick feeling crept up inside of him, burning its way up his esophagus at the thought of what survival meant, the sacrifice it required. Anger over Ty’s death washed the doubt away though. It made Ben wish he’d killed more of those fucking gang bangers.
Kaholo piloted the Kiska out of the harbor, around the breakwater and out into the open ocean.
“You should let Charlotte take a look at your shoulder,” Anuhea said softly.
He could feel her watching him, but he just continued staring at the island as they sailed away. Ben knew he’d be fine, the bullet hadn’t gone through the joint, it had just torn through the muscle. As painful as it was, he knew Chadwick’s injury was far more serious and he figured Charlotte would be busy patching him up for a while. He didn’t want to move.
“I’ll be on the bridge if you need anything,” she said.
He didn’t respond for a long time. Ben knew she was only trying to help him. She knew how close he’d been with Ty. When he turned to thank her, she was already gone.
Ben looked around. He was alone on the deck. Everyone else was busy. For a second, he wondered where Oliver was, but he figured he was on the bridge with Kaholo and Anuhea.
Ben’s shoulder ached. He pulled back the gauze that Anuhea had wrapped around it and grimaced at the gash he saw.
Probably gonna need stitches, he thought.
Ty’s body, wrapped in a tarp, caught Ben’s eye and another wave of grief overtook him. Ty had stepped up. He’d rushed out to help Ben at great risk to his own life. He was grateful for that.
“I’ll never forget you, buddy,” Ben said.
61
Altoona, PA
Once Vanessa sped away from the
neighborhood, she glanced down at the dash. The Mustang had half a tank of gas, not bad. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed up one of her friends from Eyes of Truth.
No luck, she just got another annoying message about the overloaded network. Of course it was. From what she had already seen even little Altoona had fallen to the infection. How far would it go before the government could get a handle on it? Was it even possible at this point?
A laugh shook her shoulders, and it quickly turned to tears.
“How crazy is this?” she yelled to herself as she drove down the empty road. Although she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she was slowly coming to the realization that this was a real life apocalypse. It was too big of a problem to wrestle with, so she pushed it aside, letting the tears fall. She shook her head at the absurdity and horror of the situation.
With half a tank of gas, Vanessa could easily make it to her friend’s house. She smiled slightly. She didn’t want to stop and risk an attack. Besides, all the damn gas pumps were electronic these days. If the credit card networks were down or electricity was out there would be no way to pump gas. She sighed, a problem for later.
Right now Vanessa had to focus on finding a place to lay low. The adrenaline was wearing off. An overwhelming sense of loneliness took over. Since losing Steve, the hitmen had been the only living people she’d come across.
Steve.
“Oh, damn it,” she said. She was still carrying the phone, the same phone that had most likely drawn the Black Tide assassins to the safe house in Altoona. The phone that led to Steve’s murder.
Luckily, she uploaded video already and the cellular network was overloaded so she couldn’t call anyone. At best, it was useless and at worse… She pulled the car over because the phone was wedged into her pocket. Her eyes were overflowing, streams trickled down her face, splashing into her lap.
She reached down and pulled the phone out.
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Vanessa whispered.
She gave it one last glance, rolled down the window, and tossed it out. The phone skittered across the pavement as she sped away.
His death was her fault she knew that. There was no denying it. If she hadn’t been so foolish, he’d be alive right now. She had to live on, spread the news, and make sure the company didn’t get away with murder again.
With no phone, Black Tide would have no way to track her.
She was free, for now.
She turned her attention to driving, which had turned into quite the safari. Cars, trucks and SUVs abandoned all over the place, bodies littered the ground, and buildings were dark and spooky looking. On numerous occasions, Vanessa drove past car wrecks and even a few vehicles that were on fire or smoldering. With so many infected people wandering around, driving required a completely new level of awareness to avoid crashing.
Sunset had come and gone. Now she was driving in the dark. Headlights were necessary, but they made her nervous. They would be like spotlights, giant invitations for the infected screaming, “Hey, look at me!” It was more attention than she wanted.
Vanessa decided that her best bet was to link up with one of her best friends and a member of Eyes of Truth. Her friend, April was one the few EoT members that she actually knew in real life. She lived in the suburbs of State College, less than fifty miles away. Meeting in person would be risky, considering Black Tide was on to her, but it would have to do. There was nowhere else to go.
It took almost two hours to drive to State College. At one point, she had to detour around a wandering mass of infected. Gunshots in the distance announced survivors. Not once did she pass a police officer or any other emergency service vehicles, which seemed odd, and scary.
Eventually though, she made it. Vanessa slowed the car to a stop in front of her friend’s house. The lights were off, but that wasn’t a surprise. All the lights were off, even the streetlights. She wondered if the power grid had failed or if it was a localized problem.
Or had the news stations told people about the infected?
Tree branches filled with dying leaves rustled in the breeze. Fallen leaves skipped along the pavement with a whooshing sound that made her feel like she was in a horror film. It set her nerves on fire.
Vanessa reached up to her throat and grasped the tiny silver cross she always wore with two fingers, rubbing it for good luck as she whispered a prayer. So far, this was the worst day of her life. She prayed for help, and pleaded that if there was time for God to watch over her, it was now when she was alone, with few options for refuge.
The last infected that Vanessa had seen wandering the barren streets was two blocks ago. She realized they were undoubtedly walking this way hoping to catch up to her. There was no time to waste standing around outside. April’s little electric car was parked in the driveway. Vanessa parked the car in the street and left the driver’s door open in case she needed a speedy retreat; it was one less thing to think about.
Walking quietly, Vanessa crossed the sloping lawn to the front door. Knocking didn’t seem like a great idea so she tried to peek through the small side windows next to the door. The hall was dark and empty.
She turned and decided to try the front windows, maybe she could see through to the kitchen. April was a smart woman and tough too. She’d been some kind of security officer in the Air Force or something like that.
Surely, Vanessa thought, if I can stay alive than someone as smart and strong as April could too.
However, when she looked through the front windows, she wasn’t able to make out anything. Not wanting to stand out front, Vanessa decided to check the back of the house. If April or her husband were home, she might see them back there. If nothing else, she had a better chance of breaking in there. As long as no infected were inside, she was staying here for the night. Driving with those things lurking in the dark was too much for her right now. She needed to rest and collect her thoughts.
Shrubs lined the front of the house, while a fence enclosed the backyard. She pulled the latch on the fence gate by reaching over the top. Thankfully, they’d built the fence low enough so that April, who was shorter than Vanessa, could reach over. Pushing the gate open, she cringed at the squeak of the hinges.
She hunched over on reflex and looked around. No movement, she was still alone.
Vanessa reached down and felt for the screwdriver but it must have fallen out of her pocket at some point.
No problem, she thought, still got the gun. She gripped it and squeezed through the gate not daring to open it further lest she attract unwanted attention. The infected apparently maintained their hearing ability and noise drew them in, as she had noticed earlier. Why give them an easy target?
Leaving the gate slightly ajar, she entered the backyard.
Two steps into the backyard and her feet tangled in something on the ground. Fighting the urge to scream, she tripped and dropped the gun. It landed with a dull thud in the grass. Her heart nearly leapt out of her mouth. Laying on her back she frantically tried to kick off whatever wrapped around her legs. It didn’t help. When no teeth tore into her flesh, she calmed down a little. She reached down and carefully checked what had attacked her.
Damn hose, she realized.
Vanessa sat up and pulled the hose off her legs. Her eyes were slowly becoming attuned to the darkness and it didn’t take long for her to locate the gun. Rising up to one knee, she looked around to get a sense of the yard. There was a shed in the back corner, bigger than the one she’d hid in earlier. A bird bath or something, next to a short tree and a small bench nearby, presumably a place for April to sit and read the raunchy “romance” novels she loved so much.
Vanessa smiled briefly and touched the cross around her neck again.
Please watch over my friend, Lord, she thought.
Satisfied that she was safe, alone, and knew the lay of the land, she walked around to the back door. The house looked empty.
Her disappointment quickly washed away when she tested the door handle and f
ound it unlocked. It was a small victory, but it felt like winning the lottery. Breaking a window was the only other option and far too loud for her liking.
Easing the door open, paranoid of squeaky hinges like the gate she poked her head in and whispered loudly, “April, it’s Vanessa. Where are you?”
She froze and waited for a response.
Nothing.
She went inside. The back door opened to the space between the kitchen and the laundry room. There was also a small half bath next to the laundry room. She suddenly realized how bad she had to pee. She crossed her legs and thought maybe she should search the house first, but the urge overwhelmed her.
Leaving the door open was too weird, even though it was dark. She felt too shy. Never before had she been so aware of just how loud it was to pee. She held the gun in both hands aimed at the door. The sound seemed to echo throughout the house. Squatting in the grass outside might have been undignified but at least it was quieter.
Finished with her business Vanessa stood up, flushing the toilet behind her. The action was so automatic that it didn’t take a moment’s thought. Cursing under her breath, she left the bathroom closing the door behind her to muffle the lingering toilet noises.
A shape moved in the kitchen approaching her quickly.
“Vanessa? Is it you? Oh my God!” April ran up and threw her arms around her friend.
“You scared the shit out of me, I almost shot you,” Vanessa said, scolding her friend.
“How’d you get a gun?” April asked.
She must have seen the pain on Vanessa face because she wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward the kitchen.
“Never mind, come in,” she said. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s safer.”
“Okay,” Vanessa muttered, fighting to hold in the tears. She was relieved and so happy that her friend was still alive.
They walked upstairs not saying a word. April still had her arm around Vanessa’s waist more for emotional support than physical.