He debated opening the back of the SUV. Once he did the inside light would come on and he’d have to draw them away. He wanted to grab the tire iron, though. It would make the perfect weapon.
His heart pounded as he flipped open the back of the SUV. They kept all the vehicles unlocked and the keys above the visor. The light went on and he could see the creature through the front window.
It hissed at the light and made a swiping motion with its arm. It was visibly disgusting. Half of its face was gone: It was missing the entire lower jaw and its clothes were shredded and barely hanging on its body. Sores and cuts covered the decomposing flesh that showed, and Mace felt nauseous as he grabbed for the crowbar, quickly snagging it and closing the hatch door again. He continued to watch it as it lumbered forward.
A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked around as a million needles tingled through him. Lisa whispered quickly, “It’s me. It’s me. Sorry.”
Mace leaned against the car and put his hand against his heart. He whispered back, “Don’t do that. Holy shit, you just about scared me to death.”
He pulled himself together and pushed off the car. They continued to quickly whisper to each other. Another moan emerged from the creature as it reached within ten feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t let you do this alone. I’ll distract it and you kill it.”
Mace looked at her, but didn’t argue. He noticed the flashlight in her hand.
“Okay. Let me get around the truck then flash the light once so I can get his position. Once he turns I’ll nail him.”
“Are you sure we should risk any more light?”
“I'm going to draw them away with the SUV once we're done. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Okay.”
From down the street they heard another moan. They needed to take care of this quickly. He moved to the other side of the truck and Lisa flashed the light directly on the creature. He could hear her gasp as she saw it, and saw the light flicker from the tremble in her hand before she turned it off. Once the light went out he was blinded for a second but could hear the hiss of the creature as it reacted to the brightness.
He took a step out and came up behind it. He brought the tire iron down hard on the head of the creature, splitting it completely in half. The two halves peeled away as the creature crumbled to the ground. Mace felt sick as he moved away from it.
Lisa was still in the spot where she’d flashed the light, and as he grabbed her arm he could feel her shake. She gaped at him in shock.
“What the hell was that thing? My God, we’re in zombie hell!”
“I know. I’ve got to get that other one. Once that’s done, I’m going to lead them away.” Mace looked around but couldn’t see a thing. “I don’t want any more of them knowing where we are.”
“Wait, how are you going to get back?”
They could hear a moan closing from a distance. He gave her a serious look. “If something happens, be prepared to get everybody out of here.”
“It’s too dark to know where it is. You’re going to need me to draw it out.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to endanger you any…”
Mace’s words were interrupted by another moan not more than fifteen feet away. The second one was moving much faster than expected. He quickly pulled Lisa next to the SUV, and they huddled against it for a second while he got his wits together.
“I need the flashlight.”
Lisa handed it to him without an argument. The tremble had reappeared in her hand. In the blackness of the night, fear briefly took her breath away.
Mace pushed off the SUV and rounded the corner to face the approaching infected. He turned the flashlight on, and the infected was directly in front of him.
It immediately raised its hands up to cover its face from the brightness of the flashlight, its features bursting with fury. As it opened its mouth wide to voice its rage, Mace dropped the flashlight, gripped the tire iron with both hands and thrust it straight up through its chin into its brain, clamping its mouth shut. In the ghostly light cast from the flashlight on the ground, Mace could see its startled reaction as the look changed from rage to surrender.
He let go of the tire iron and kicked the infected in the sternum, and its eyes rolled back as its body tumbled after it. Mace rushed back around the vehicle as several more moans filled the night.
“Get inside,” he said to Lisa. “Be prepared for anything, stay quiet, and tell Shawn he needs to take watch.”
Before she could respond he was in the SUV, firing it up and pulling away. He turned the headlights on and sped down the street. In the light of the headlights there were dozens more scattered about. He drove straight about three blocks and then parked in a small commercial parking lot with no visible activity.
Mace exited the SUV, leaving the engine running and the headlights on while he ran to another vehicle parked close by. He took the butt of his pistol, broke the driver’s side window, and then unlocked the door, slipping inside. He fumbled in the darkness before finding the headlamp switch, pulling it on.
He jumped back outside, shut the car door, and then returned to his own vehicle, where he turned off the headlights and put the car in drive. The light from the other car enabled him to pull back on the street, where he moved forward slowly, keeping the car on a straight path. Once he was away from any source of light, he inched the car along, window down, stopping repeatedly at any sign of disturbance.
He sat completely still as an infected passed within inches, the darkness so complete he couldn’t make out a single feature. The slow, plodding shuffle and constant moan of a hate-filled existence was the only clue to its whereabouts. He felt utterly disoriented and began to wonder how he was ever going to find the hotel.
“Stay calm. You know what to do,” he whispered to himself.
After another twenty feet he felt the tires of the SUV scrape against the curb and he stopped the car, knowing he had gone off course. He shut off the engine, and listened closely. There were more about. Sweat dripped into his eye and he blinked hard, trying to clear it out. He tried to control his breathing, which was getting faster. He took a few slow, deep breaths, and felt momentarily better.
You need to move. You can’t just stay here.
Mace carefully opened the door to the SUV. He couldn’t see anything around him. He clicked the door shut and stayed completely still. They’re close.
He moved around the front of the car and felt for the curb with his foot. Follow the curb. It will lead you in the right direction.
He moved silently and carefully, stopping completely when any infected passed close.
Another one was heading straight for him. It sounded more agitated than the rest. He pulled out his 9mm, keeping it at his side, sweat dripping steadily despite the drop in temperature.
It was directly in front of him and still coming. He stepped up on the curb to avoid it as it passed by. The stench was beyond vile and he tried not to gag. It kept moving past.
What is going on.
His heart was racing and his knees felt weak.
Why can’t they see me.
It suddenly occurred to him that they could be as blind as he was out here. They just didn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on it. The light bothered them enough to stay out of it, but the dark didn’t add anything to their seeing ability. They were doing the same thing he was: Feeling their way through it. It was a moonless night. They were all blind.
He came to an intersection and the curb ended. The hotel was on a corner lot. He tried to stay as straight as possible and shuffled along until he felt the curb on the other side.
I think this is it.
He moved away from the curb, feeling his way slowly. All of a sudden he felt something cold and round press against his forehead.
"Mace?" It was Shawn. His voice was barely above a whisper and filled with stress.
"Don't kill me," Mace whispered as he froze.
The object was pulled away. "It was real close." Shawn whispered. "Real close. Follow me."
They moved slowly towards the staircase, with Mace directly trailing Shawn. They reached the top and Mace said quietly, "Get some sleep. I'll take it from here."
Shawn let out a hushed chuckle. "I don't think I'll sleep for a year. I damn near blew your head off."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Using a long, flatbed truck, Travis and Brett drove to Home Depot with a trailing caravan of vehicles. They would load up on all the fencing materials they could find. The area, deserted of infected, prompted Travis to reflect on their whereabouts during the day. The infected’s coordinated actions the night before had him convinced they were huddling together during the day, leading to some type of instinctual communication. He was determined to find their location. If it was the last thing he did.
By the time they reached Home Depot, they had picked up four more survivors: Three women and a man. Travis liked the odds. “One thing we need more of around here is women,” he said, nodding, as they pulled in the parking lot.
Brett turned his head, studying his comrade slyly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you say more than two words to a woman. What makes you want one now?”
“Hey, I’ve got needs too, you know,” Travis said, peering at his friend. “And right now I need something besides soy milk and cereal for breakfast and somebody else to do my laundry.” A goofy grin spread across his face and Brett burst out laughing. He couldn’t ever remember seeing Travis smile before, and the look was so out of character it tickled his funny bone until his eyes were watering.
He wiped the tears with the back of his fingers, shaking his head. “You are one twisted individual. You know that, right?”
The grin spread farther across Travis’ face as he relished Brett’s reaction. “Now you sound just like my wife. She hated doing laundry.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
The smile vanished as Travis maneuvered the truck directly in front of the loading area, stopping and setting the brake. He reached for his gun, avoiding eye contact. “Enough fun for one day. Let’s get back to work.”
Back at the compound, Sarah was keeping a journal of her visions. She could sense when they were coming and learned to brace herself for their impact. It was like a jolt of electricity that set her brain on fire. Their vividness and depth were just too strong to be considered anything less than prophetic.
She chewed on the end of her pen as she ran through what seemed unconnected and sporadic. House on fire. Darkness. Manny. Flames. Bo. She thought for a moment and added one more thing. Jade. How was it all connected?
It felt like destiny was calling. She just didn’t know what it would bring.
The men looted three Home Depots, feeling fairly secure that they now had enough materials to finish the perimeter fence. The only thing lacking was razor wire, but Travis figured he could dismantle the wire he saw running along the industrial complex. It would at least keep them protected at critical locations.
With every member of the community contributing in one way or the other, the fence project was underway. They would go for the razor wire once the fence was closer to completion.
Brett had just finished lunch when Travis came up behind him. “Hey Margaret, hurry up and get ready, we’re going on a treasure hunt.”
Brett looked up at him as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. He was sitting at a table in one of the homes, which they had transformed into their compound cafeteria. As he pushed away from the table, he said, “And why would I want to do that? More harebrained schemes of yours?”
Travis didn’t smile. “I think I’ve figured out where they hide during the day.” He dropped a gym bag at Brett’s feet. “It’s loaded with C-4, a detonator and a timer. It’s time we finish this shit.”
Brett’s eyebrows raised as his gaze went from the bag back to Travis. “What the fuck. Are you really that delusional? You want me to go traipsing around town with you looking for a shitload of zombies, carrying a bag of high explosives, and walk right into the middle of them? Yeah, that’s a brilliant plan.” He paused for a moment then said, “And where did you get C-4, anyway?”
Travis puffed out his chest. “I made it.”
Brett got up and tried to move past him, shaking his head. Travis blocked his path, putting a hand against his shoulder. “Just hear me out for a second,” he said sternly. Brett remained silent, waiting to hear what he had to say. “You remember when I followed them out? I know the general direction they were headed. They don’t come out during the day because of the light, right?” Travis pulled a map out of his back pocket, spreading it out across one of the dining tables. A few other people glanced in their direction but ignored the commotion.
Travis put his finger in the middle of the map, pointing out their location. “We’re here, right?” Brett nodded impatiently, as Travis looked up at him. “I followed them to here, where they got the drop on me,” he said, extending his finger on the map. He extended his finger a little further. “This right here,” he said, emphatically jabbing his finger at the map, “is the Century theaters movie complex.” He met Brett’s eyes with steely determination. “Think about it. Where would be the perfect place for all of them to hide where it could be pitch black during the day?” Glancing back at the map he jabbed his finger at the spot again. “Right there. That’s where they were headed. I’d bet your life on it.”
Brett’s face remained impassive as he stared at the point on the map. “So, say you’re right. What’s your plan?”
Travis gently touched the canvas bag with the tip of his cowboy boot. “This could be set up in a few minutes,” he said, motioning towards the bag. “We just blow them sky-fucking-high.” He paused a second, then added quietly, “We don’t want too many people in on this one. We want it done quiet. The more people involved the more chance something goes wrong." A twisted smile crossed his face. "They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”
Brett’s voice lowered as his face turned to granite. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m in. But if they’re in there I want point. I don’t trust your crazy ass.”
Travis’s mouth twitched as he eyeballed Brett. He finally shrugged off the comment, saying sarcastically, “Fine. Then you get to pick the movie. Probably pick some stupid ass chick flick.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Heading towards the Utah border, Mace thought about the crossbows he'd picked up at a Big 5 during a weapons run that morning. It was an almost perfect weapon. Jade glanced at him and noticed the fatigue in his eyes.
“If you’re getting tired, I could drive.”
Mace shook his head as he looked ahead at the salt flats spreading out before them. “Nah, I’m fine. It looks like easy driving for a while.”
It had taken them a week to travel eight hundred miles. The going had been rough and exhausting due to pile-ups and wreckage, although they had encountered little resistance from infected or others.
Jade felt like conversation, and checked the back seat to find Chelsea sleeping soundly, her head resting on Lisa’s lap. Lisa smiled as they made eye contact. In the back of the SUV, Buster was snoring softly, curled up among their few possessions.
Jade leaned over and said softly to Mace, commenting on their changing landscape, “It almost looks surreal. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Appearing as endless miles of dazzling white desert, the salt flats looked more like the surface of an alien planet rather than anything resembling any plot on earth. Mace changed his grip on the steering wheel and said, “It’s as far as the eyes can see. No life. Just flat and barren. It’s actually beautiful in a different way. Captivating."
In the backseat Chelsea stirred, and Mace saw her head pop up in the rear view mirror, a prolonged yawn spreading across her face as her little arms stretched out lazily in the air. She saw his gaze and a grin replaced the yawn.
“Mason Macaraboni rides a purple pony,” she said, a gi
ggle filling the space of the quiet vehicle.
“The little girl thinks she is safe because she is in the back seat, I see,” said Mace, smiling as he peered at her through the rear view mirror. He reached in the small console between the front seats and pulled out a squirt gun, which he had acquired at the sporting good store. He held it up for Chelsea to see. “I think you might be in for a bit of trouble,” he said, finishing with an evil laugh.
Chelsea squealed in laughter, screaming, “No No! Mommy save me!” as she tried to wriggle behind her mother, her seat belt constricting her movement. From behind Chelsea a long ripping sound pierced the laughter, and Buster jumped up as a long-winded blow of gas erupted from his rear.
“Oh God!” Lisa groaned as the scent reached her. Chelsea buried her face in her mother’s lap, her giggles reaching a fever pitch as the hilarity of a smelly fart to a four-year old brought fits of laughter. The smell wafted to the front, and Mace hit the window switch in revulsion as the stench churned his stomach. It was a paint-peeler.
He pulled to the side of the road, yelling, “Hit the deck!” with a grin as he barreled out the door. The trailing vehicles all followed, pulling to the side, unaware and curious about the reasons for the detour. They all exited the vehicles and were greeted by a cold front that had everyone immediately reaching for whatever clothes they could find. As they met in the middle of the street, Mace tried unsuccessfully to explain the dire need to pull over. He was unable to get out a full sentence without cracking up, Chelsea’s charade-like gestures concerning Buster’s flatulence stealing his attention.
Jade opened the rear hatch of the SUV, watching in disbelief as Buster jumped down and only lifted his leg in relief. By the smell she was sure he was cramping in discomfort. As they shared the story in amusement, Shawn focused his attention on a large object on the horizon. As he identified its markings, he pointed to it in surprise. It was an oil tanker. The laughter quickly faded as they turned their attention towards it.
THE VALUE OF JADE (Mace of the Apocalypse #2) Page 6