The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection

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The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection Page 2

by Lewis, M. Lauryl


  “No, no…don’t look,” ordered the man firmly.

  I wanted to look away, I really did. Seeing my dearest friend in the world so broken was not on my agenda.

  “Hey. Look at me,” he said sternly.

  I was frozen, unable to move, and his words came from a place very far away. He put his hand on my chin and gently turned my head away from Karly’s body.

  “You there?” he asked.

  I looked into his deep brown eyes as I processed the question. They radiated kindness and a softness of sort even though all around us was chaos and the brutality of death.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You were in a car crash. Right now, I need to get you out of this wreck. Tell me your name.”

  “Poppy.”

  “Poppy? That’s your name? As in the flower?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Okay Poppy…I want you to grab onto me and I’m going to pull you out.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and nodded into his neck. My fingers shook too hard to hold onto him, so I did the best I could with my just my arms. “What hit us?” I managed to ask as he pulled me from the open window. I winced as my left shin slammed against the door panel.

  “Easy, I’ve got you,” he said as he adjusted his right arm to cradle me. “A rather large black pickup clipped you. We need to get off the freeway before another car comes by and does the same thing.”

  I turned back to assess the damage. Karly’s Truck was badly twisted. The windshield was torn backward, the crackled tempered glass hanging precariously. A mass of twisted flesh lay on the pavement several yards in front of the truck, along with what looked like hair.

  “Oh my God!” I screamed. “Oh God that’s the inside of her head, that’s her brain!”

  The man turned me away from the scene by holding my head to his chest.

  “You have to calm down …” he said.

  “But…but…” I began to hyperventilate.

  “It’s not safe here, and there’s nothing you can do for her now.”

  I tried to look back, but he held my head tighter against his chest. A wave of nausea hit me, and I didn’t fight him.

  “Think you can stand?” he asked.

  “I feel sick to my stomach.”

  “My car’s just a few yards away. If you need to throw up just let me know and I’ll pull over.”

  I hadn’t even been aware we had started walking.

  “We should wait here for the ambulance,” I mumbled, attempting to stop.

  “There’s no ambulances coming. They’ve all been grounded because of the National Security threat.”

  “We can’t just leave everyone…”

  “No one else made it. I’m really sorry.”

  My body shivered involuntarily. When we got to his old convertible, he set me on my feet and made sure I could stand before opening the passenger door. My legs buckled, so he kept an arm around me while I used the side of the car to support myself.

  “My head hurts.”

  “Looks like you hit it pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”

  “I can’t just leave. The cops will want to talk to me.”

  “It’s not safe here. Last I heard, martial law’s in effect and there’s an indefinite curfew. They want everyone indoors until troops arrive and figure this out.”

  I slid into the front seat and let him buckle my seatbelt. My fingers were numb and even lifting my arms felt impossible. I stared straight forward as he walked to the driver’s side and got in. There was no way to not look at the fatal scene on the interstate. Karly’s truck had been pushed backward, eventually colliding with the red convertible that began the entire chain reaction. One of the bodies from the accident was twisted badly and half way under Karly’s truck. A severed arm was near the edge of the road. Having seen enough, I looked down at my lap and tried not to vomit. The black truck that delivered the fatal blow to Karly was resting on its side on the far shoulder of the interstate. Flames lapped at the twisted tailgate.

  “I can drive you to your home if you want. Is anyone there to watch over you?”

  I looked at him a bit confused.

  “In case you do have a concussion,” he clarified.

  I gently shook my head side to side. “It’s just me and Karly.”

  “I can drop you at one of the Red Cross shelters.”

  “I don’t want to go there,” I said quickly and without hesitation.

  “Yeah, I don’t blame you.” He sighed gently. “God, the world is going to shit, and I can’t just leave you on your own. My house is just outside of town on Old Howard Road, just about ten minutes from here. You okay with going there? It’s closer and I really don’t want to be out here any longer than needed.”

  “I don’t know you,” I said, a bit weary.

  “Fair enough. Name’s Ellis. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but the circumstances aren’t quite right. Anyway, my sister’s there and I don’t want to leave her alone for much longer.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’d be okay.”

  “I have a pretty good supply of emergency gear and food, enough to last awhile anyway. It’s probably safest to hole up at my place. You’ll like my sister.”

  “Will she be okay with me showing up?”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  Ellis turned onto a less-crowded-but-still-residential road, leading us away from the city. A group of teenagers ran along the street in front of us, weaving back and forth in what appeared to be a game of chase.

  “Damn kids need to get off the street,” he mumbled.

  “It looks like they’re running after the girl in front of them. This doesn’t look right.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed.

  The closer we got, the more abnormal their movements looked. One of the teens in the middle of the pack collapsed onto the ground as we passed and there was no sign that the others even noticed. None of the kids turned to look at us as we passed. The girl in front looked back at her pursuers and worry wrapped her face in a veil of fear.

  “We should help her,” I said quickly.

  “Yeah. I’m going to pull over and see if I can grab her before they do. If you can, climb into the back when I pull over. It’s a tight spot but you’re small and should fit.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to assess the space behind the only two seats. There wasn’t much room at all, just a small platform where the convertible top would be stored if folded down. Not waiting for the car to stop, I unbuckled and worked my way between the two seats. The small plastic rear window crinkled as my head came to rest on it. I suddenly felt very exposed beneath the thin canvas-and-vinyl car top. Ellis drove past the girl and braked hard; my shoulder hit the passenger seat in front of me. I watched through the plastic back window as Ellis got out of the car and ran toward the girl. She seemed to understand what Ellis was doing and ran toward him. I could hear her muffled cries for help even over the still-running car engine. She gained momentum and reached for Ellis as they threatened to collide. The teens chasing her continued in their pursuit, undaunted by our presence. My heart began pounding in my chest as a new wave of adrenaline hit. The faces of the kids were twisted into evil masks, reminding me of feral dogs. I clenched my hands into fists as I watched Ellis and the girl run toward the car, hand-in-hand. She was clearly fatigued, and Ellis pulled her onward. I held my breath when they reached the back bumper and he let go of her hand.

  The girl struggled to open the passenger door, so I reached forward until I could reach the door handle. Before I could help her, she finally pulled it open and clambered inside, nearly knocking into me. Her breathing was labored, and she reeked of beer. Her long red hair was tangled badly, and her round face was streaked with mascara-laden tears. The car shook suddenly as a thump sounded to my left. To my horror, I saw one of the teens fighting with Ellis. It was a boy half his size with crooked glasses and a crazed look to his eyes.

  “He’ll kill him,” our new p
assenger cried out.

  Ellis pushed the boy off him, giving him just enough space to draw his right arm back to aim for a punch, which caught the boy in the throat. The momentum threw the boy backward just far enough to give Ellis time to quickly get in and slam his door shut.

  “Lock the doors!” he yelled.

  The girl who now sat beside him struggled to hold her door shut as another of her pursuers violently tried to enter. Ellis reached over her and slammed his fist down on the old-style metal lock at the top of the door panel. More wild teens and one grown man reached the back of the car and beat wildly at the trunk as Ellis engaged the clutch and put the car into gear. We sped away, all of us shaken.

  “What the hell was that about?” asked Ellis.

  “My dad,” said the girl with a shaky and high-pitched voice. “He came after me this morning after my mom left for work. At first, he just didn’t make sense and I thought maybe he was having a stroke, but he started groaning like he was in pain and started to come toward me. I wanted to help him, but the news said to stay away from anyone who’s sick. He was sweating and had blood running down from the corner of his mouth, so I told him to stay back but he just kept walking toward me.”

  “Slow down,” said Ellis. “First, you said your mom went to work. Where at? I might be able to drop you off.”

  “St. Therese, the hospital in Tallsdale.”

  “Okay. Do you have her number?”

  The girl shook her head side to side. “It’s in my cell phone and I dropped it while I was running.”

  “Okay. Poppy, do you have yours?”

  “Yeah, but there’s still no signal.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Clarice.”

  “Okay Clarice. Tell me what happened next. With your dad.”

  “He wouldn’t stop coming down the hall, and he started coughing really bad. Blood was spraying everywhere. I ran. I ran and left him and didn’t stop until I got to our neighbor’s door. My friend Tina opened the door, but her mom slammed it shut. It’s like everyone is freaking out. I could hear her and Tina yelling about not exposing themselves or Tina’s baby brother. My dad came running out of our house and collapsed onto the walkway. He had blood all over his face and shirt. I wanted to help him, but by then people were running after me and I just kept running. Then you stopped for me.”

  “Ellis, we can’t take her back to her house. It’s not gonna be safe.”

  The girl turned partially around to look at me. “I can’t go back there. Please don’t take me back there.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll take you with us for now. We’ll be to my house in about five minutes,” Ellis reassured her.

  As Ellis drove, the residential area changed to only a handful of shops eerily lit by moonlight. Ellis took an on-ramp onto an old country road. Clouds gathered in the distance ahead of us. None of us spoke for the remainder of the drive.

  Chapter Three

  When we arrived at an old red house that resembled a barn, I had second thoughts about my decision to accompany the man who pulled me from Karly’s truck. The building itself had a look about it that screamed “horror movie,” and the surrounding landscape was dotted in shadows that I was certain hid things of which nightmares are made.

  Before the car came to a full stop, Clarice opened her door and leaned out; vomit spewed from her mouth. Ellis put the brakes on hard, which caused the girl to jolt, soiling her arm as a result.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were going to be sick. Let’s get you inside so you can clean up.”

  Ellis opened his door and stepped out while Clarice fought to catch her breath.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her as I twisted myself over the small center console until I was in the driver’s seat.

  “Yeah...I’m not sick…like those other people…like my dad. I think it’s just nerves.” Her voice sounded shaky and frail.

  “Ellis! My God! I wasn’t sure you’d make it back from work!” yelled a woman who was quickly making her way down a set of concrete porch steps. She was tall and lean and wore her long brown hair in a high ponytail. By her features, I knew she must be Ellis’ sister. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been frantic, and your cell was going straight to v-mail!”

  “Help me get these two inside.”

  “What happened?” asked his sister.

  “Think you can walk?” Ellis asked Clarice as he pulled her out of the passenger seat and put his arm around her, ignoring his sister.

  “Yeah,” she responded. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Hazel, this is Clarice. She was chased by some pretty sick people and she’s been through a lot. And that’s Poppy. She was in a car accident and needs tending to. Ladies, this is my sister Hazel.”

  The woman hastily nodded at us.

  “Crap,” said Hazel. “The news isn’t good, Ellis. It’s all over the TV.”

  “I’ve been listening to the radio, but it’s been about half an hour since I got a decent signal. What’s the latest you’ve heard, Sis?”

  Ellis kept an arm around Clarice as they walked toward the house, carefully avoiding the soiled parts of her shirt. Hazel glanced at me with a worried look on her face. As Ellis and Clarice got closer to Hazel, I heard her whisper to him.

  “Is that one okay? She looks really bad,” she said, glancing toward me.

  “I think so,” he answered. “She’s been through a lot tonight. She’s been in a terrible car accident and her friend was killed. It was bad, Hazel. Really bad. And she’s got quite the gouge on her temple.”

  “Come on in; I’ll start some coffee and I have a pot of stew cooking,” said Hazel. “I want to get back to the news.”

  I climbed the steps, following the others. The trauma of the day had taken its toll. My body ached, and deep fatigue was pulling me toward sleep as my adrenaline rush was wearing off.

  “Grab Dad’s first aid kit?” Ellis asked of his sister.

  “You bet. Clarice, follow me and we’ll get you a clean shirt.”

  “Thanks,” the girl said.

  Ellis walked to the kitchen sink and filled a medium sized mixing bowl with hot soapy water and carried it and a washcloth to the kitchen table.

  “Go ahead and sit down,” he said.

  He pulled out a standard wood dining chair and I slumped into it. He moved another chair to face me and sat in it. A large picture window let moonlight in and he studied my forehead. From the look on his face, I knew it must be bad.

  “How bad is it?”

  “Eh. A little worse than I thought, but I think you’ll be okay. It’s deep but not all the way through to bone, and I know head wounds bleed like sons-of-bitches.”

  “I can’t stop seeing her,” I said as I took in a shaky breath.

  “Your friend?”

  I nodded, which further made my head wound throb.

  “I’m really sorry you lost her. And that you had to see her like that,” he said as he studied my forehead.

  He looked at me with warmth in his eyes, and I sensed that his sentiments were genuine. The moment was interrupted when his sister re-entered the room. She carried a plastic container that I assumed was the first aid kit, but it was larger than what I’d expect for general household use. She set it on the table next to us.

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “I have Clarice cleaning up in the back room. I think she’s in shock. She said she’s only fifteen; maybe we should try to get her back to her mom?”

  “I’m not so sure it’s safe to be out there,” he said as he opened the first aid case and began sorting supplies. “But we’ll do our best.”

  “I’m going to turn the kitchen TV on and start some coffee. Do you need anything else first?”

  “Nah. Coffee would be good, thanks,” said Ellis. “And a couple of Motrin for our guest.”

  I watched as he donned a pair of vinyl medical gloves and soaked the washcloth in the bowl of soapy water. He wrung the cloth out over the
bowl and frowned as he looked over my wounds. I took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. I was surprised when he began wiping away dried blood at how gentle he was. It was uncomfortable but not particularly painful.

  “Think it’ll heal?” I asked.

  “I think so. You’ll have a scar over your eyebrow, but it’ll just add character.”

  “I guess it’s small potatoes,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah,” was all he said in reply.

  The smell of fresh coffee brewing filled the room, which caused my stomach to rumble. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and food was the last thing I wanted to focus on. It was impossible to not think about Karly and the way her body was broken. It was impossible to not think about what was going on around us. I closed my eyes as Ellis continued to clean my forehead.

  “I need to disinfect it,” he said.

  “Rubbing alcohol?” I asked.

  “Nah. That’d be pretty cruel. I have some iodine swabs. It still might sting a bit, but not too bad. You ready?”

  I sighed and nodded to indicate he could go ahead.

  The orange-brown liquid reminded me of the red soil of the mountains in central Oregon. The last time I’d been there I was eight years old. It was the summer my uncle died. His family took me along on a camping trip since my parents weren’t into the great outdoors. My cousins were close to me in age and my aunt adored me. The Metolius River was a favorite of Uncle Norman’s. He’d floated that river many times. The particular stretch he loved was supposed to be class two rapids that day, but the melting snow pack changed that. He left at noon and we were supposed to pick him up down river at four o’clock. A search team found his drowned body several miles downstream the next morning. Aunt Justine’s screams of agony upon hearing the news haunted me ever since.

 

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