Zombieclypse (Book 2): Dead Shelter Smashwords

by A. Rosaria

  “You‘re a good guy, Ralph. I‘m glad I met you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “That‘s great…” Brenda yawned. “Yeah…very…nice.”

  He heard her soft snoring; exhaustion knocked her right out. Sleep didn‘t come as quickly for him. Too many thoughts raced through his head. He kept returning to what had happened today. What was happening right now, and what was still to happen? What he was sure of was that tomorrow would be another day full of hardship, but at least he might have some answers. He prayed for Sarah, that she was safe, and succeeded in doing what she set out to do. Finally, sleep came with his thoughts lingering on the kiss he and Sarah shared.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sarah stood over his body long after the sun went down. Blondie. No! Anton Morgan, that was his name, lay on the ground with his face blown off. She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed the decay setting in. She wanted to run away, as far as possible, but her feet wouldn‘t move. The moment she pulled the trigger she didn‘t feel a thing. Her heart was cold when the bullet hit him and his face disintegrated into pieces of meat, blood, and bone. She cared less when she kicked his body in anger. But when his body collapsed and stayed motionless—his blood creating a dark patch around him—the guilt hit her. Only then did she realize what she had done. She just killed another human being, and not in self defense. A man lay dead at her feet where there shouldn‘t be one. He wasn‘t a good man, but a man who had sought to better the world in his own way, a man who was trying to survive. With one single action, she had become a worse monster than he ever could be.

  With the pull of the trigger, she had robbed herself of the hope she had found from kissing Ralph. She had soiled that one moment of giddy warmth she had felt deep in her gut when their lips touched. She had soiled her soul. Anton might have deserved to die, but she had no right to do it, not that way. Guilt held her there at this spot—guilt and loss. Raspy Richard, she didn‘t feel anything when she killed him. Mostly because she didn‘t mean to kill him and didn‘t even know she had until he rose from the dead. And it was in self defense, a situation where it was her or him. She hit him only to disable him, never with the intent to kill. She just wanted to flee.

  She felt numb and she wanted to believe that the not caring was just a symptom of the numbness. What the numbness did was deceive her, blinding her and leading her to this, in becoming a murderer. Ralph would never approve of what she had done. Ralph, how he had changed and how she had changed. She hoped she could have changed for the better, though she wasn‘t so sure anymore.

  The stars twinkled in the sky. They only gave enough light for her to see the silhouette of his body. Guilt or no guilt, time was running out, and she stood exposed here, free game for any zombie passing by. Her plan had been to return to the RV and move out to the base at dawn. It was about six miles away. She would follow the road, take the exit in two miles, turn left on a dirt road leading away from the small town of Haven, go four miles, take a road to the right, and go another quarter mile to arrive at the spot marked on the map. It would take two hours to walk, leaving ample time for her to explore the place and get back before midday. A sound plan.

  When she led Anton out the RV, her heart was set on what to do. She had the will and the drive to go through with her plan, but after getting rid of him, she doubted everything. She tore her eyes away from the corpse at her feet and forced herself to move. She had no choice. What was done was done, and she would take it to her grave. Ralph was expecting her to do her part and for him she would do it.

  Instead of returning to the RV, she decided to go directly to the base and scope out the place from a closer distance under the cover of night. She hoped to get more information on the research center and about the guards guarding it. She wanted to be prepared for whoever they would face when they hit it.

  She had no flashlight, equipment, or food or drink. Supplies where scarce as it was, so there was little to be had anyway. It was a good thing she had the knack of remembering pictures, maps, and faces. She would have little trouble with the route she had to take—not that it was a difficult one.

  Following the road was easy. The stars provided enough light for her to see the asphalt as she walked. Keeping to the left, she would not miss the exit. She covered the first two miles in forty minutes. A good time really; she was only slightly winded. Her many walks to school and home had finally paid off. She could walk for hours without tiring, and if she adjusted her speed, she could go farther before needing rest. She could do six miles in one stretch on a good level road. The road leading from the exit became rough and uneven, and it became worse the deeper she went into the forest. Less and less light came through the farther she went, making her slow down so she would not miss the path to her right near the six-mile point. She had walked for two hours when finally she saw a dirt path wide enough for a truck to pass. It went down an incline. Had she not been looking for it, she would have easily missed it. She was tired now and sat down next to a tree to rest.

  A cold breeze passed through the trees, rustling the leaves, and coursing over her body, prickling her skin and making her shudder. She pushed her back against the tree, pulled her knees close to her chest, and hugged her legs. She could see the sky through an open spot in the canopy. Clouds had set in, hiding the stars from view, promising a cold night ahead. She hoped she would at least get spared the rain. Sarah felt tempted to stay here, find shelter, sleep, and at dawn look for the base.

  She sighed as her thoughts trailed to Ralph. She wondered what he was doing right now and if he found his way safely to that camp he had mentioned, found his way to that girl Brenda. Well, at least he wouldn‘t be alone, like she was. How she wished that right now she had someone to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her things were not as grim as she knew them to be. No, she wouldn‘t wait, because if she did, these lonely thoughts would keep her company and make the night colder than it already was. She stood up and went down the path.

  She didn‘t have to go far to see the lights shine between the trees, driving the darkness back. She was close. Any closer would put her straight in the spotlights, making her an easy target for those guarding the facility. There was no way she could approach the facility with the lights on, or see anything beyond the lights. They blinded her. She was forced to wait until dawn. Staying well out of sight, she searched the ground for a place to rest. Near a tall tree, she found a soft bed of leaves. Too exhausted to look further, she lay down and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

  Sarah fluttered her eyes open to the blinding sunlight, which broke through the leaves and fell straight on her face. With a start, she shot up, standing. Leaves fell of her, and more were stuck in her hair. Her heart raced and she sought support on the tree next to her. Clawing at her chest and breathing shallow, she tried to remember what had happened. She had fallen asleep. She was supposed to wake up at dawn, but now the sun was well over the horizon. She was lucky no one had spotted her sleeping in such an open spot. Most likely no one bothered to look, or else she would be in chains right now. She had to get back to the RV. If she stuck to her plan, she would have saved herself all this trouble of sleeping out in the open in the cold night. She had gained no additional time, and accomplished nothing now.

  There was no turning back, and hindsight was a useless bitch. She moved from tree to tree, closing in on the open field beyond. Hugging a tree, she peeked out. Walls, tall, thick walls went on forever, and every hundred feet, there were towers with spotlights. Large, metal twin doors led to the inside, but she would have to cross a bridge over a moat running around the walls. Men in black uniforms walked the wall. Many of them had the same kind of uniform on as those who had chased them out of town. This wasn‘t a research facility; this looked more like a military base, a damn fortress, near impregnable. There was no way she and Ralph could get inside, not even with a ragtag group of men. They would never get in by force; the only chance they had to get inside was as captives or body parts. />
  An alarm filled the air with its shrill screaming. The guards on the wall started running frantically, and the door started to open. Before it fully opened, a humvee spurted out with three men inside, a driver, a passenger, and a man in the back, manning a machine gun. All three were clad in the same black uniform as the guards on top. Close behind them followed a flatbed truck with only a driver inside. The wheels clattered over the bridge and dislodged the gravel on the unpaved road as it hit the path through the forest. The gate closed and the alarm stopped.

  As she drew back, she wondered why they sounded the alarm. Was it intentional, to attract the zombies to this fortress? Or was it to warn those inside that the door was about to open and for them to be prepared? Or could it be a warning for her, that they somehow found out about her and were now letting her know they were after her. One way or another, she couldn‘t stay put. Ralph would be waiting, coming back this afternoon, and she had to break the news that for now it was best to leave this research center alone.

  Silently, she moved out, hoping to make it out undetected. She had at least a two-hour journey ahead of her. She didn‘t know if it would go easier with people in the area patrolling, possibly looking for her. They must have expected Anton and Richard to return by now, and this could very well be a team going out to look for them. If that was the case, they would be going to the RV. Realizing this new possibility, she quickened her step. She couldn‘t go back and wait for Ralph at the RV. These uniformed men would be there by then. She had to warn Ralph before he got there. She could not waste a second. She ran up the path, chasing the sounds of the engines ahead of her—the sounds already ebbing away.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ralph woke up with Brenda nestled in his arms, still sleeping, and drooling. He gently pushed her aside to make room for him to get out of the sleeping bag. It was then he noticed how ugly her wound was, not cleaned or bandaged, and she was burning with a fever. It was festering with an infection. The paleness of her skin wasn‘t her natural color after all; it must have been blood loss that had sucked the color from her face. She stirred awake when he tried to wiggle out of the sleeping bag.

  “Good morning,” Brenda said.

  The stench coming out of her mouth was bad and hinted at something wrong with her. She was in no shape to have done what she did last night and certainly not for what they still had to do. Rest was what she needed, good rest, and to get that wound looked after. Too bad they were short on choices. It was essential they move on quickly and get her back to her camp; there she would get the medical attention she needed.

  “Are you not going to wish me a good morning back? Not even after we slept together?”

  His face flushed red. He knew he was blushing, but he was too flabbergasted to hide it. Brenda was looking at him with her feverish eyes. It must have been her delirium speaking. What was it with pretty girls getting ill around him and liking him? She was just fifteen and he was taken already, or he thought he was. He didn‘t really know for sure; you never did with Sarah.

  “God man, I was just joking.” Brenda crawled out of the sleeping bag and play punched his shoulder. “Just a joke, okay? No need to get all scared. I won‘t bite you.”

  Where did she get the strength to just walk around as if nothing was wrong with her? She stood in front of him, ready to go, like her arm wasn‘t hanging uselessly at her side or her nose wasn‘t running, and she looked pale like she had died already.

  “You should rest.”

  “Don‘t be silly. We have only a short distance to go. Follow me.”

  Brenda walked down a slope and left the woods for the road, ignoring his protestations as she went and keeping a steady pace. He tried to convince her take it easy, but she ignored him. He fell silent and walked next to her. From time to time she told him they were near. Each time it was just one more mile to go, though they had been going for a good hour now. Just when he had enough and wanted to make her take a rest, she stopped. Brenda waved at the trees, but he saw nothing there. Maybe the fever was making her see things.

  She pointed. “Look, there!”

  Ralph squinted but saw nothing. A man appeared from behind a tree and approached them. Now he did see it. Behind the trees, netting camouflaged a crude wooden wall and behind it he saw more movement. A man approached them with rifle in hand. He was twice as broad as Ralph and looked ten times meaner, and much older with a swath of white hair on top.

  “Where is your mother?”

  “Dead.” The sadness was thick in her voice, all cheeriness left her, and so did all the pretences of being well. She collapsed next to Ralph, to the surprise of Ralph and the old man.

  The man rushed forward, pushing Ralph aside to get to Brenda. He bent over and lifted her up in his arm. His eyes burned into Ralph‘s. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  “Nothing, I swear. Her group was attacked and she got hit in the shoulder. I found her at her camp. Brenda told me about your group and asked me and my friend to join.”

  “Friend?” The man looked around. “Where is he?”

  “She had to check something out first.”

  “You asshole. You left a woman to go it alone in this zombie-infested land?”

  Ralph didn‘t understand. Why wouldn‘t he? He went about and did whatever he wanted without anyone‘s permission. Why would it be different for Sarah? He was not her boss, and she proved more than capable, maybe even more so than him, in taking care of herself. It was he who was the one always carelessly stumbling into problems, not her.

  “For Christ sakes, she is a woman. Don‘t you know how important that is? I told them not to let Brenda, her mother, and the others go out scavenging. Look what happened. Flora‘s dead and her daughter dying.”

  “She‘s not going to die.”

  The man sneered at him. “Are you a doctor? No, else you would have seen her wound was infected, and without anything to counter it, she is as good as dead.”

  Ralph took a bottle with fish medicine out of his pocket. “This will get her better.”

  The man barged away, carrying Brenda. “Stupid nitwit thinks some fish food is going to cure an infection.”

  Ralph followed him with big strides. “It‘s penicillin.”

  “Penicillin my ass.” The man passed the camouflaged net with Ralph close behind. A tall blond woman slid a thick piece of plywood, closing the opening behind them, and wedged a log between the ground and the panel to support it and keep it closed. The construction would hold a single zombie attack, though not if more came. A crowd surrounded Ralph and the man carrying Brenda, talking excitedly among themselves while from time to time shooting suspicious glances at Ralph and worried looks at Brenda.

  The man laid her down on a stretcher and turned back to face him.

  “And now, asshole, you are going to tell us what really happened.”

  Ralph blustered. “I told you the truth already.”

  He pushed the bottle with penicillin in front of his face. “You need to give her some of this.”

  The man swatted his hand aside and pushed his index finger into Ralph‘s chest. “Stop with this shit and start talking.”

  The group closed in on him. A sense of claustrophobia came over Ralph, their presence suffocating the little freedom he felt, their distrust palatable in their eyes. No matter what he said it wasn‘t good enough for the old man, whose mind was made up already and probably thought Ralph was some low-life scum who put Brenda in harm‘s way.

  “Why would I escort her to this place if I had anything to do with what happened to her?”

  “You‘re not telling us everything. No way you just stumbled onto their camp. You must have forced your way in, taken her hostage, and you and whatever group you are running with want to take advantage of us.”

  From the crowd came many yells supporting the man‘s words. This was turning out bad. With no voice of reason, he would be done in quickly. No way would he be able to fight his way out with so many people around. If the
world turned out like this, with people going after each other over the least bit of suspicion, what need was there to fight on? Humanity would be doomed already.

  “I ran into Frank and Skip while scavenging a hospital for supplies. After we went our own way, I came to their rescue when they were being ambushed by a group of bandits. They killed Frank. I saved Skip. He led me to Brenda‘s encampment, but on the way, he was bitten. I left Brenda with Skip to go back to Sarah—”

  “You did what?” the tall blond woman said as she moved to the front.

  She was in her early thirties—tall, athletic build, the posture of a professional volleyball player. The people around her looked up to her literally and figuratively. A certain aura of authority came from her, more so than from the old man. She was the type of silent leader sulking into the background until it was time to act. She completely took over, drowning everyone else with her presence. It was she who he had to content with. The old man looked away in disgust but kept silent.

  “I left Skip in her care.” It was now he said it—in witness of this group—that he realize how bad it sounded. He left a wounded girl alone with an infected man, a huge man. Though at that time, he had little choice; he needed to get back to Sarah.

  “You left her alone to fend for herself? Wounded and with someone about to turn?”

  “At that time I didn‘t know he would turn. I thought that with the penicillin we could fight back his infection. My friend was bed ridden with an infection from a bite. I had to hurry back to help her. I had no choice.”

  “You always have a choice. You chose your friend over Brenda. Look at her now.”

  A short puffy man with black hair and a woman who looked much like him were taking care of Brenda. They removed her shirt, revealing a nasty looking entry wound. Yet again, Ralph wondered how she had managed to go so far while being severely injured and how could he have been so dumb to not notice it.