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Gen Z Boxed Set

Page 33

by Baileigh Higgins


  A blurred figure rushed past Chas and whacked the zombie in the head with a baseball bat. It fell away, and Chas blinked, trying to make sense of everything that was happening around her. “Who are you?”

  The figure ignored her, continuing to beat the infected man’s skull to mush. Finally, her rescuer turned and grabbed her by the arm. It was a girl, her eyes a piercing green in her tanned face. “Come on. We have to go.”

  Even as the girl spoke, another zombie fell through the window. It landed with a thud, and Chas found herself stumbling to her feet. The earth spun, and she stood still for a moment to regain her bearings. “Just…give me a second.”

  The girl shook her shoulder. “We don’t have time for this. Snap out of it.”

  “What? Where…” Chas mumbled, her brain still foggy and unfocused. A sharp sting on her cheek brought her back to reality with brutal clarity. “Ow, you hit me.”

  “If you don’t follow me now, much worse will happen to you,” the girl said, whirling around. She ran off, and after a second of hesitation, Chas followed.

  They were in an alleyway, the sides lined with old, rotting garbage and overflowing trash cans. It stank, but Chas hardly noticed, so intent was she on keeping up with her surprise rescuer.

  The girl was fast, and her slim figure moved with the grace of a deer. Chas was hard put to stay with her and soon began to limp as her injured leg threatened to give out. A sharp, stabbing pain shot up the limb with every step she took, and her breath rasped in and out of her lungs like a saw.

  “In here,” the girl cried, opening a backdoor in the wall of the alley. She ducked out of sight, and Chas followed.

  Inside, it was pitch black, and she paused as the girl slammed the door shut and locked it. At least, they were safe from the zombies for the moment. “Where are we?”

  “No talking. Just follow my lead,” the girl said, gripping Chas’ hand with cool fingers.

  A few steps lead them to another door, this one opening into a department store filled with racks of clothing. Dim light streamed in through a couple of windows set high up in the walls, and the ceiling loomed far above their heads.

  “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. I haven’t cleared this place yet. There might be zombies,” the girl said in a low whisper before disappearing between two rows.

  “You haven’t…zombies?” Chas mumbled as horror set in. She quickly drew the gun from its holster on her belt and gripped it with both hands. She’d had no chance to use it earlier, not against the mob that chased her, but now it might just save her life.

  Her mouth dried up as she stepped forward into the murky store, brushing past a rack of coats. A mannequin appeared to the right, and she almost shot it in the head. “Cool it, Chas. Remember what Alvarez and Julia taught you.”

  With the gun held ready, she moved forward, heading for the front of the store. It seemed deserted, but it was hard to tell. Who knew what lurked between the racks? “Hello?” she whispered.

  An answering growl caused the hair on the back of her neck rise, and Chas whirled in time to see a zombie reach for her with long fingers. It must have been a sales lady once, a woman in her twenties with blonde hair wearing a pink suit.

  The zombie lurched toward her, and Chas jumped backward with a cry only to smash into the rack behind her. It scraped across the floor, and articles of clothing tumbled to the ground as Chas scrambled to put distance between her and the zombie lady.

  Raising the gun, she put two bullets into the woman’s forehead, dropping her instantly. The shots echoed throughout the store, and her ears rang from the report. She turned and fled, running into one rack after the other, mannequins looming around every corner to mock her with their blank faces. A hand grasped her shoulder, and she screamed, raising her gun, ready to shoot.

  “Stop. It’s me!” a voice cried. It was the girl again.

  “It’s you,” Chas gasped. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “No time. Follow me before more come. They’re drawn to noise,” the girl said, before setting off again.

  Gritting her teeth, Chas followed, ignoring the various aches and pains she suffered from. They soon reached the front of the shop and hunched behind a display to survey the street.

  “What now?” Chas asked, stiffening when a trio of infected ran past the glass doors.

  “Beats me,” the girl said. “I was heading to the church when I saw you and your friends run past.”

  “The church?”

  “Yeah, I heard on the radio there are survivors there,” the girl said.

  “Survivors?”

  “Yup. A whole lot of them.”

  “And my friends? Did you see where they went?”

  “They ran in the right direction. If they keep going, they’ll make it. I’m more worried about us. There’s a bunch of zombies running around these streets.”

  “How far is the church?” Chas asked.

  “It’s the Methodist on Fourth Street about three blocks away,” she said.

  Chas craned her head to look out into the street and spotted an old sedan standing with the driver’s door open. “If we can get to that car, I can get us out of here.”

  “How?” the girl asked. “We don’t have the keys.”

  “Maybe not, but I can hotwire it.”

  “You can?”

  “Uh, huh. I just need a few minutes.”

  The girl considered this and nodded. “All right. Once it’s clear, we make a run for it.”

  “Deal,” Chas said. “What’s your name, by the way?”

  “I’m Anke. You?”

  “Chas.”

  “Nice to meet you, Chas.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Okay, when I say go, we go. Got that?” Anke asked.

  Chas nodded.

  Two minutes later, Anke took a final look before whispering, “Now!”

  Together, they burst out into the open street and ran toward the sedan. Anke dove in first after quickly checking it was empty. Chas followed, shimmying into the driver seat and closing the door with a sigh of relief. “We made it.”

  “Only if you can start this thing,” Anke said with a pointed look.

  “Right. Here goes.” Holstering the gun, Chas drew her knife, the same one Uncle Al had given her for her birthday.

  The gleaming blade brought back memories of the Ferris wheel and everything that had happened that night. It seemed like an eternity ago now.

  With nervous fingers, Chas pried open the plastic cover on the steering column and pulled out the battery, ignition, and starter wire bundle. Praying she got it right, she stripped the insulation from the battery wires and twisted them together. Next, she connected the ignition wire to the battery wires.

  The dashboard lights flared to life, and Chas nearly screamed with delight. “Yes!”

  “Um, Chas?” Anke said.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s awesome and all, but you’d better get the motor running now. We’ve got company.”

  “What?” Chas raised her head and immediately regretted it. A swarm of zombies was headed their way and would reach them within seconds. “Damn.”

  “Hurry!” Anke shouted.

  “I can’t. If I don’t get this next part right, I’ll electrocute myself,” Chas said, ducking down once more.

  With trembling fingers, she tripped the starter wires, being careful not to touch them with her bare hands. Gritting her teeth, she sparked them against the battery wires. The engine turned but didn’t catch, and Chas nearly cried with frustration.

  A thud on the window caused her to jump, and Anke screamed as zombies surrounded the car. They beat on the windows with their fists, and their snarling faces filled their vision. “Chas, please. Get us out of here.”

  “I’m trying!” The second time ended just like the first. In failure. The car wouldn’t start.

  By now, they were completely surrounded, and the car shook as the crowd of infected rocked it back and forth on its wheels.
Anke clung to her seat, and it took everything Chas had not to panic and drop the wires.

  “Please start. Please, please, please,” she begged as she sparked the wires a third and a fourth time. With a roar, the engine caught, and she quickly revved the motor to keep it running before detaching the starter wires.

  With a sigh of relief, Chas jammed the car into reverse. “Hold on, Anke. We’re getting out of here.”

  “About time,” Anke said then shrieked as the glass next to her face shattered. Hands reached inside to grab her, and Chas jammed her foot on the gas.

  The sedan shot backward like a bullet from a pistol. Zombies went flying in every direction as Chas shifted into drive and shot up the street with a screech of tires. They thudded over several bodies, the old car rocking like a ship on stormy waves.

  Chas gripped the wheel with both hands, trying not to throw up when a spray of thick, black blood washed across her window. Thank heavens it was intact, or she would’ve gotten a faceful. “Are you okay, Anke?”

  “I’m fine,” Anke replied, twisting in her seat to watch the last of the zombies fade from view as they raced away. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

  “It’s a long story,” Chas replied, not wanting to get into her family history right then. “Which way to the church?”

  “Keep straight for two blocks then make a sharp turn right,” Anke said.

  Chas nodded. “Okay.”

  Hope filled her chest as they drew closer and closer. The only thing that mattered now was getting to the church. Her friends would be there. They had to. Maybe the survivors will help us save the camp too.

  She glanced at Anke. The girl looked about the same age as her. Maybe a year or two older. She was built like an athlete, and her tan attested to a life spent outdoors. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she looked as excited as Chas felt.

  “Thanks for saving my life back there. I owe you one,” Chas said.

  “No worries. You just saved my ass too, so I guess we’re even,” Anke replied with a wave of her hand.

  Chas grinned. “I suppose we are.”

  “Turn right here,” Anke said, and Chas turned her attention back to the road.

  She made a sharp turn without slowing down but screamed when a concrete barrier appeared right in front of them. There was no time to stop, and they slammed into the wall nose first.

  Metal crunched as the front of the car crumpled into a ball, and Chas threw up her hands as she was thrown forward by the impact. Her head hit the windshield, and pain shot through her neck and spine. The taste of copper filled her mouth, and she coughed as a dribble of blood ran down her chin. For the second time that day, darkness swooped down to claim her.

  “Anke,” she whimpered, fighting to stay awake. Silence met her call, and Chas slumped forward as the world faded to black.

  Chapter 18

  Chas’ consciousness dipped in and out, her eyelids fluttering as she became aware of movement all around her. Hands gripped her arms and hauled her from the car. It had to be zombies. She tried to fight them, mewling her protests like a weak kitten. I don’t want to die. I can’t let them bite me…eat me.

  The hands ignored her efforts, and she was pulled from the wreck and onto the tar. This was it. She was going to die. Gravel stung her palms as she struggled against their hold, expecting teeth to sink into her flesh at any moment.

  That didn’t happen.

  Instead, she was lifted into the air and laid down on something hard. A board, maybe. Or, a stretcher. Voices filled the air around her, and fingers pried her eyelids open to shine a bright light into her pupils. People. Survivors like her.

  “Stop…it hurts.” In truth, everything hurt. It felt like her body had been tossed into a meat grinder and spat out the other end. Nothing felt like it belonged. She felt disconnected, disjointed. A broken doll pieced together again but all wrong.

  Her brain flashed to the moment of impact. The screech of metal on concrete. A distant scream. Silence. Awful silence.

  “Anke. Where’s Anke?”

  “Sh, your friend’s right here. She’s fine,” a voice said in a soothing monotone. “Relax. You need to relax.”

  “She’s okay?” Chas mumbled, her head drooping to the side as the darkness swarmed in again, dragging her into its cold embrace.

  It felt like hours had passed before she woke again. This time, she came awake with a gasp, shooting upright to find herself lying on a bed. She blinked at the bright fluorescent light in the ceiling before looking down at her body.

  Nothing looked familiar.

  Her clothes were gone, and her frame was covered in a white gown like the ones you got in a hospital. Her bare legs were mottled with purple bruises, but a fresh dressing covered her old wound.

  Chas lifted her hands and felt her face. Her fingertips ran over a line of stitches close to her hairline. Her lower lip was swollen, cut on the inside, and her head ached. Stitches. That meant medical treatment, which indicated other people.

  “Where am I?”

  The church. They were heading for the church when…Chas gasped. “Anke!”

  She jumped off the bed and ran to the door, jiggling the handle. It was locked. She banged her fists on the door. “Hello! Anyone out there?”

  Nobody answered.

  Eventually, Chas gave up and sat down again, surveying the room. All it contained was a single bed and mattress, a small table, and a toilet in the corner along with a washbasin. A glass of water stood on the bedside table, and she greedily gulped it down. Her parched tissues sucked up the precious liquid with relief. As if on cue, her bladder clenched, and she jumped up to empty it. Afterward, there was nothing left to do but wait.

  The hours passed slowly, and Chas grew more and more frustrated. She spent the time pacing up and down and banging on the door. Not once did she get an answer. At one point she dozed off only to resume her furious tirade once more when awake.

  “What the hell is wrong with these people? Are they crazy? Nuts? Cannibals?” Chas shouted, bouncing up and down on the hard mattress. “Open the freaking door!”

  As if in answer to her prayers, a key turned in the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a stern-looking man old enough to be her father. He carried a gun, and he wasn’t smiling. Not one bit.

  Chas had jumped up, ready to attack whoever opened her room, but now she swallowed, fear curling in her stomach. “Um. Who are you?”

  “Follow me, please,” he said, ignoring her question.

  “What?”

  But the man was already gone, and after a second’s hesitation, she hurried after him. The outside looked much like the inside had. Bare and cold. Brightly lit. A long corridor stretched past more doors like hers to an exit at the end, and the mystery man was already half-way through it.

  Chas sped up to a jog and slipped through the door just as it swung shut again. She looked around, surprised to find herself inside a clinic. Hospital beds lined the wall, and nurses bustled to and fro. A doctor was making notes on a clipboard, and the sharp tang of antiseptic filled her nostrils.

  “What is this?” Chas asked.

  “This is the infirmary, dear,” a matronly woman in a white overcoat answered. A name tag labeled her as Inge. “Now, would you please follow me? I need to clear you for release.”

  “Release?” Chas asked, now thoroughly confused.

  She glanced behind her and noticed that the mystery man had taken up a guard-like position next to the door she’d just exited. He stood stock still, hands folded and face blank. Not once did he even look at her.

  “You must excuse Mr. Peterson,” the nurse said. “He takes his job very seriously.”

  “More like Mr. Got-a-stick-up-my-bum,” Chas muttered as she followed Inge toward one of the hospital beds. “What exactly is his job? And where are we? Who’s in charge?”

  “Sit down, please,” Inge said, indicating the bed.

  Chas did so with reluctance. “Fine, but can you plea
se tell me what’s going on? I’ve been locked up for who knows how long, and I’m looking for my friend, Anke, and no one will answer any of my questions!”

  Inge sighed. “Of course, dear. I’m sorry for the confusion. We’ve got a very carefully worked out system here, and sometimes it’s easy to forget how scared and frightened you must be.”

  “I’m not scared. I just want answers,” Chas said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “I know, dear. All in good time, but first, I need to do your final exam so you can be released into the general population.”

  “What does that even mean?” Chas said, her frustration growing more acute by the minute.

  “When you arrived, you were injured. We treated you as best we could, but after that, you had to go through what everyone new here does: Quarantine,” Inge said. “It’s to ensure that nobody on the inside turns into a zombie.”

  “That’s what it was all about?” Chas asked.

  “Yes, and I’m sorry if you felt lonely or frightened, but we’ve found it’s the best way to keep the infection out.”

  “So…if he opened the door, and I was a zombie, Peterson would’ve killed me?” Chas asked.

  Inge ducked her head. “That’s his job.”

  “Wow. No wonder he can’t crack a smile.”

  “Precisely, and now that you’ve passed quarantine, I can release you after a final check-up to make sure you’re in good health.”

  “Okay,” Chas said, giving in to Inge’s ministrations. “What about Anke?”

  “Anke was more severely injured in the crash than you were, but she’ll be fine. We’ll just have to keep her here a bit longer to make sure she heals.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Not now, dear. Maybe later. She’s resting at the moment,” Inge answered.

  “All right. As long as she’s okay,” Chas said, making a note to check in on her new friend later on. “What about my other friends?”

  “Others?”

  “Yes, I lost them on the outside, but they were headed here. A boy named Dean, and two girls, Vanessa and Emily,” Chas said.

 

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