The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned

by Hetzer, Paul

  “Work your way to the side before we get bowled over!” he screamed up at Kera, who was ungracefully slipping down the slope like a cat on ice. They soon reached the bottom and stumbled across the narrow embankment and out of the way of the falling bodies. Gradually, the thuds and splashes of the flailing Loonies ceased and Steven looked back up at the bridge and the highway berm. The remaining Loonies meandered in a state of rage; occasionally another would get knocked over the bridge and fall to the embankment with a thud. Steven grabbed Kera’s chafed and bleeding hand and dragged her away from the bridge abutments when he saw several of the creatures that had slid down the embankment picking themselves up.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he hissed.

  Kera glanced over her shoulder as more of the Loonies stood up. “Oh shit!” she muttered.

  Close to a dozen of the crazed creatures took off after them, some dragging mangled legs or running with arms hanging limply at their sides. A few growled, although most were deadly silent. Up on the highway the swarm began to coalesce again when it spotted the two humans running. They started spilling off the pavement and down the steep embankment, some instinctively controlling their slides while others tumbled out of control. Soon the hillside looked like a living carpet with the horde of Loonies swarming over it.

  Kera glanced back over her shoulder again and her face grew pale with terror. There were too many to count. Their guns would be useless against those numbers. It was the largest mass of Loonies she had ever seen and they were still pouring off the roadway and down the slope in a cloud of billowing gray dust.

  “We’ve got to get across that railroad bridge!” Steven yelled, guiding her along the narrow river embankment as fast as they could force their feet to move through the thick tangle of weeds that flourished so close to the water’s edge. She saw the narrow steel trestle that crossed the lazy, brown river a few hundred yards ahead of them. They would only have to climb a ten foot berm to the tracks where the twin rails left the riverbank. At the base of the highway bridge, the growing horde of raving mad creatures was building to a breaking point and like a boiler bursting at the seams, exploded down the riverbank blindly following those that raced ahead of them. She could hear their footfalls, growls, and mutterings as they gave chase; she dared not look back again for fear of what she would see.

  Their gear seemed to grow in weight, slowing their pace while they sprinted the last few yards to the tracks and raced up the berm to the rusting rails. They barely paused to look back up the river at the snaking mass of Loonies, some of whom were running on all fours like animals. The faster of the creatures were only a few handfuls of yards behind them. They started across the trestle, their feet dancing from one creosoted crosstie to the next as they bounced along, trying not to misjudge and step into the open space between the old oil-soaked wood. Beneath them the land gave way to muddy brown water while behind them the first of the Loonies crested the berm and took chase. Kera heard a sound behind her like the snap of a twig when one of the creatures missed its step and its leg slid between two ties, pitching it forward and shattering the femur. Its keening cry of pain was soon smothered by the pounding legs of those behind it crushed it into the tracks. More and more of the creatures fell between the ties, some lodging in up to their chests, and were immediately pressed through the narrow gaps by those who followed behind them, peeling the flesh from their bodies like skin from a vegetable.

  Steven and Kera pranced over the wooden ties to the approaching shoreline and expanded the gap between themselves and the savage swarm of infected while the creatures falling between the ties bogged down those behind them. However, like an unstoppable tide, the horde rolled over those stuck beneath them and thundered onward after the two humans.

  The situation was looking desperate. The two were now halfway across the train trestle with the first of the Loonies less than fifty yards behind, leaping and jumping down the track like pursuing lions. The difficulty some of the infected had with traversing the railroad ties was Kera and Steven’s only advantage to the Loonies’ adrenaline spiked speed. Up on the highway bridge, a portion of the horde that had not made it down the steep slope to the water was keeping pace with the couple across the span, threatening to head them off when they reached the shore.

  “There!” Kera cried, out of breath. Steven’s eyes followed where she was pointing with the barrel of her shotgun to a decrepit-looking dinghy tied upside down to a sapling on the riverbank a few yards south of the trestle. What might have once been green paint on its wooden hull was faded and flaking in long patches. Weeds grew up heavily around it, nearly obscuring it from their view.

  Up on the highway bridge the Loony horde had reached the end of the span and was pouring off the roadway and down the hillside toward them, moving like one monstrous organism. They would soon be literally surrounded by the creatures. Then Steven saw him again, the calm Loony from before. This time, it was walking slowly along the overpass with its eyes locked on the couple. Steven again experienced that cold fear in the pit of his stomach. He tore his eyes away to keep from miss-stepping on the trestle.

  Steven reached the end of the train trestle first and launched himself off the edge onto the weed-choked western riverbank, glancing briefly over his shoulder to make sure Kera was right behind him. He saw several of the Loonies veering off the trestle into the water trying to make a beeline toward them. He swiftly sprinted along the bank and reached the side of the little vessel and without pause, reached down and effortlessly flipped it onto its keel. Kera already had her sheath knife pulled and with a quick swipe, severed the rotting yellow polypropylene rope that had secured the dilapidated boat. It was barely large enough to hold both of them and their gear.

  They each grabbed a gunnel and hastily carried the boat to the edge of the river and tossed it in. Steven held the transom while Kera scrambled into it, almost toppling overboard when the boat wobbled unsteadily beneath her. Steven promptly climbed in, using one leg to shove the vessel away from the shoreline barely ahead of the leading Loonies as the horde reached the end of the trestle and scrambled crazily toward them. A tall black Loony, wearing only a torn, dirty tee shirt, launched itself off the bank like a cat springing on a mouse. It slammed into the water behind them, its hands clawing onto the transom, and pulling the back of the boat underwater briefly as it tried to climb aboard. Without checking their stride, the rest of the creatures crashed into the water behind the boat while even more poured off the trestle both into the water and onto the shore.

  Without hesitation, Steven reached behind him and with a quick, fluid motion withdrew the katana and in a broad, sweeping arc severed both arms near the elbow from the babbling creature. It howled as blood shot like a fountain from its severed limbs and it slid swiftly below the muddy water, cutting its howl short in a gurgling of bubbles. Steven gingerly pried the hands from the back of the boat and tossed them onto the water. He dropped the katana into the hull which already had several inches of river water in it and turned to Kera.

  “Use your hands and paddle!” he screamed at her as the Loonies continued to pile into the water only feet from their stern. Frantically, they dug their hands into the water and paddled the boat away from the shoreline. Neither one of them dared to look back at the water that was writhing with the masses of the once-human creatures. Some were instinctively dog paddling to keep their mouths above the water, while others tried to clamor atop their brethren to keep from drowning. Guttural screams of rage overwhelmed the couples’ ears while the targets of the creatures’ wrath slipped away from their killing grasp.

  When the boat reached the middle of the river the current started carrying them downstream away from the mass of struggling creatures and they were finally able to relax and look back at the fearful sight. Hundreds of heads bobbed in the water behind them. The water foamed with the thrashing of arms and legs trying to keep bodies afloat. Hundreds of corpses of those who had lost the battle with the water also cluttered the surface
like water-soaked logs. A mist rose from the water into the chilly morning air, forming a thin layer of fog above the river, adding an even more sinister aspect to an already gruesome scene.

  Steven glanced up at the distant overpass, however, he could no longer see the lone infected man in the ragged pajama top and dismissed it from his mind. Maybe it only had been sick or injured and couldn’t give chase.

  What looked like thousands of the Loonies meandered on the shore while a few in the front began pacing the boat while it lazily drifted downstream. Then, as if controlled by some invisible hand, the entire horde swarmed along the thickly weeded bank, following the boat as it drifted in the current. Up ahead, the river curved sharply to the left where it cut deeply into the side of a mountain. A wall of grayish-brown rock soared from the water line up several hundred feet, forming an impenetrable barrier that continued until it disappeared from sight around the river’s bend. Steven knew that once beyond that bend they would be safe from the horde of monsters.

  “We’re safe for now.” He picked up his katana and stuck the blade in the river to remove the blood before returning it to its sheath.

  Kera nodded in return, staring back up the river with wide eyes at the horror behind them.

  “They don’t care,” she muttered.

  “What?” Steven asked, watching the swarm of Loonies along the bank, moving like a flock of birds would move through the sky; a murderous ballet of motion.

  “The Loonies, they don’t care if they die. They don’t try to avoid anything dangerous or painful.” She was quiet for a few moments, deep in thought. “They’re less than animals.”

  Steven stared back through the mist as the swarm came up against the cliff and bounced around without any direction. The rage seemed to blow out of them like steam from an engine after they lost sight of their prey.

  Yes, Steven thought to himself, but what are they?

  Water was seeping in through the dry-rotted floorboards of the small vessel, adding to the water that had already flooded in when the Loony had tried to board. It soaked through their pant legs while they knelt, chilled in the late October air, watching the Loonies on the shore disappear while the boat rounded the bend. The riverbank appeared again up ahead where its course straightened out between two mountain ridges. A dead Loony bobbed and floated face-up several yards behind them, the expression on its face frozen in a rictus of incoherent rage; blood still staining its teeth. More and more of the dead creatures silently floated past them on the misty surface, caught in the river’s gentle current.

  Steven tore his eyes away from the macabre sight. “Let’s head for shore,” he said.

  He bent over the side and, paddling with his hands, propelled them toward the muddy bank of the western shore. Without a word Kera followed suit, letting out a startled grunt when her hand brushed against one of countless half-naked bodies floating by. The silence of the river was nerve-wracking after the tumultuous racket from the horde of Loonies only minutes ago. When the two had lost sight of the swarm around the bend, the growls and mutterings faded away. The only sound now was the gentle lapping of water against the hull and their hands splashing the cold surface of the water as they determinedly paddled for the shore.

  Soon the prow of the dinghy bumped softly against the muddy, weed-choked riverbank. Steven slung his rifle over his shoulder and sprang out, tugging the nose of the boat further up on dry ground. When they were both ashore they collapsed in a heap on the moist loam, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

  “That was too close.” Kera whispered, feeling drained after the adrenaline dump from their flight.

  “Yeah it was,” Steven agreed. “Their behavior is evolving. Did you notice how when they’re in a large group like that they move in a coordinated motion, like a school of fish?”

  “All I noticed was that they came damn near to tearing my ass apart.”

  “That would be a waste of such a fine piece of ass,” Steven said with a half-smile.

  Kera pushed him away playfully. “You would miss me,” she stated seriously.

  Steven nodded. “Yeah, I would.” He stood up and hauled her to her feet. “So let’s not put your ass in a sling anymore, okay?”

  She smiled slyly. “Sounds like a plan to me. So where to now, lover?”

  “We start climbing. We need to get back to the highway.”

  “I thought you said you were going to try to keep my ass out of the fire for a while?”

  He shook his head and smiled reassuringly. “I will. We’ll get back on well down the road from that group.”

  “I told you we should have stayed in bed this morning.” She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed her pack out of the boat. “After you, big boy.”

  Chapter Three

  Jeremy walked along the edge of the highway, wrapped in a heavy coat against the chill. The 9mm pistol was back in his holster, dried and oiled, after finding it during a quick search of the stream where he had lost it in the fight with the Loony the night before. He had to abandon his sleeping bag because of the amount of water still soaked into its poly-filled batten after being submerged in the creek. With temperatures dipping into the upper 20’s at night, Jeremy knew that he could easily develop hypothermia if he didn’t have some type of bedroll to sleep in. He also knew this meant he would have to leave the highway and hit some homes, or maybe a town, to find something. This invariably would put him into contact with the Loonies, which were much more dangerous than the cold. He had checked his ammo supply this morning while he ate a stale muffin and found he was down to a mag and a half of .223, two full mags of 9mm, and the one mag for his .22, plus a partial box of 50. From afar he had seen some of the larger groups of the infected during his time on the road and knew if he ran into any more than a handful he would need as much ammo as he could physically carry. He would also need to find more ammo soon, his survival would depend on it. Again, that meant an excursion into the areas that used to be the domain of men.

  Along the highway he tried opening the doors of abandoned vehicles to see if the interior light would illuminate, indicating a functioning battery. He ignored cars and trucks with their doors left open when their previous occupants had vacated them. Their batteries would be long drained. So far he hadn’t had any luck. This many months after the world he had known had ended, all the batteries had finally lost their charge. Occasionally, the dead, rotten remains of a body could be seen through the window and he would move hurriedly away. It wasn’t that the sight of death that frightened him, God knows he had seen plenty of that lately. It was mainly the god-awful smell. Ugh, how he hated that smell! Less occasionally, he would come across the remains of bodies along the road, although usually animals and ‘other’ things had long fed on and scattered those remains.

  The highway steeply wound its way up the front side of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the going was slow. Another mile, maybe, and he would be at the crest and then it would be an easy stroll down into the Shenandoah Valley. There, he would be in the midst of human habitation again, and possibly the raging hordes of insane monsters. He tried not to let the fear creep up from his gut and squeeze on his heart as it sometimes did, yet this time it came nonetheless. He wished he was with his mom and pop. Being alone was bad, however, being alone in this new world was terrifying at times. Sometimes he simply wished there could be a grownup around to make the scary decisions. Jeremy took a deep breath and tried to let his mind wander down other alleys, he knew he couldn’t let the fear take over and control him; he couldn’t be that little boy again. He had to be brave if he ever wanted to see his parents again.

  He stared up at the ridge of the imposing mountain, frosted white by the morning’s cold temperatures.

  It sure is pretty, he thought, like something from a Christmas card.

  At times he felt he was watching the world through two different looking glasses, one saw the danger and potential death around each corner, while the other could see the beauty
still inherent in the world around him. His mind drifted as he thought about the approaching holiday season and the joyous ones past that had been spent with family and friends. A distant smile spread across his face while he reminisced and his eyes focused far away, images of a time that could never be recaptured flooding his inner vision. In almost a trancelike state he walked up to a car and started to open the door. He spotted the mummified corpse behind the wheel and jerked his hand back from the handle while his mind instantly snapped back to reality.

  “I can’t be daydreaming!” he chastised himself out loud, looking around with a startled glance when his boyish voice burst through the silence. He sighed and then continued trudging up the highway, checking the occasional car for a working battery, failing to see the dark form shadowing him along the wood line at the top of the cliff wall to his right.

  The creature had caught the boy’s scent wafting up the steep gray granite walls of the highway cut. It was a familiar scent, although a smell it had not detected for what felt like an eternity to its simple mind. It stalked the boy silently, unsure of what to do. Pleasant memories flooded its brain, sparked by a fresh whiff of the human odor, memories of full bellies, warmth and companionship. An inadvertent whimper escaped its mouth and it froze in the shadows, eyeing the human, but the boy continued walking below oblivious to its presence. It paced him again, wanting to get nearer yet shying away at the same time.

  Jeremy finally reached the crest of the mountain where it cut deeply through the mountain ridge. He walked to the edge of the roadway and stopped, searching briefly before spotting a fist size chunk of brown rock that had fallen onto the highway. He picked it up and strode back onto the asphalt, then bent down and scratched a large message onto the road surface. When he was done he crossed into the other lanes and did the same. He had written ‘Jeremy was here. I’m OK’ in large, bold letters with the hope that his parents were still following him. He then went over and sat on a pile of rock that had slid down the cliff. He took out a morsel of beef jerky from a side pocket, bit off a chunk, and absently chewed it, staring up at what looked like an old, abandoned hotel at the entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway. He stared hard at the darkened windows trying to detect any movement while wondering if there could be anything useful to be found inside. The sudden tinkling caused by a cascade of small stones down the cliff behind him sent his fight or flight reflex into overdrive and he jumped forward while freeing the 9mm from his holster with his right hand. He examined the cliff and didn’t see anything moving. With his heart still trip-hammering in his chest, he backed out onto the road surface, scanning the dark, dense pine forest along the cliff’s edge for any sign of movement. Nothing was stirring and after a few moments his heart rate slowed and returned to normal, and he relaxed visibly.