You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1

by Raymond Esposito

  “Oh my God,” Susan whispered.

  “I think they’re hibernating,” Thorn said.

  “In this heat? How can they be cold?”

  Thorn shook his head.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a way to conserve energy now that their food is gone.”

  “That’s just creepy,” Susan said.

  “I’ll say, but maybe …” He didn’t finish his thought.

  “You think we might be able to make a run for it, don’t you?” Susan asked.

  “Maybe,” he answered. “We’re almost out of food and water. We can’t stay much longer.”

  Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t

  The virus had not caused Rosa’s strange behavior. She had suffered a psychological break from the stress. When she finally awoke from her trauma-induced sleep, she was groggy but appeared to have regained her senses. In the days that followed, it became evident that she had not completely returned to her former self. She seemed inappropriately relaxed and carefree. She seemed unaware or unwilling to accept what had happened to the world. She joked about “playing house” with Susan and Russ and talked about her husband and son, which was at times, an almost incomprehensible dialogue. Several times, Susan or Russ caught her trying to remove the plywood from the front door or searching for the keys to the Jeep.

  “Rosa, what are you doing?” Susan asked the first time she found her friend attempting to leave.

  “I really need to get to Miami,” Rosa answered. “Michael will be so worried.”

  Susan took her friend by the arm and led her back upstairs. Rosa didn’t fight but remained silent for several hours after each event.

  Thorn worried that without vigilance, Rosa might succeed at opening a door. He suggested binding her, but Susan refused, and she promised to guard over her friend.

  Each morning, the infected rose from their subterranean beds, and each evening, they returned to their holes. Thorn noted that they never dug a new hole. Regardless of where the infected wandered to during the day, at night they always returned to the same mound. During the first week, however, he noticed something that seemed odd. He couldn’t be certain if it was just a trick of light or his tired imagination, so he went to his closet and found his digital camera. It ran on AA batteries, and he was grateful that they contained a full charge. He sat the camera on the windowsill, marked off the spot, and then used the night setting to take a picture of the lawns. Each night, he took another picture of the exact scene. After he had taken several night shots, he reviewed the pictures in sequence on the camera’s little LCD screen. The results were frightening. They needed to leave.

  Do not go gentle into that good night

  “I still don’t understand why we aren’t taking the Jeep,” Susan said as they packed their backpacks.

  “They seem to sleep at night,” Thorn answered. “But on the night they killed the Baylors, it was the noise or maybe the light that reanimated them.”

  “But we’ll be inside when we start the Jeep,” Susan said.

  “I know, but I’ll need to lift the garage door by hand. That will make noise, and I don’t want to risk waking them.”

  “You think that is riskier than trying to walk out of here?” Susan asked. It wasn’t sarcasm; she was just trying to understand his decision.

  “I don’t know, but we have to assume the roads are blocked with traffic accidents. We could get to the end of the street and find it impassable. Then we’d be trapped in the Jeep. Remember the bus?”

  She did and she nodded, but her fear was evident as she looked around the dining room.

  “Maybe we should just stay a while longer. We still have some supplies left,” she offered.

  Thorn looked into her eyes. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be fine. Although these were probably their final days, if not their final moments, he held back for reasons he refused to face. He took her hand.

  “Susan, there is something I didn’t tell you,” he said.

  “What?” she asked, but her expression said that she didn’t really want to know.

  “The mounds.” He paused. “They’re moving closer to our house.”

  The air was hot and silent. The three survivors stood on the drive, illuminated by the moon.

  “Russ, maybe we should cut across the field in back,” Susan said.

  “No, we’ll stay on the street. It will be safer, and we can move quicker.”

  He hadn’t told either of the women about the infected cats.

  “We move in a fast walk but quietly. If anything … happens, try to get back to the house. If you can’t, then don’t wait, just run to the church up the street. Are we clear?”

  The women nodded.

  They walked down the driveway. The road formed a circle, but to the left was the bus crash, and Thorn wanted to avoid the remains of Mrs. Genson and the sight of the dead children who certainly had been inside the bus.

  Rosa walked a little too close to the edge of the road. Thorn tried to get her attention, but she was focused on the mounds that lined the lawns. Susan started toward her, but Thorn grabbed her arm and shook his head. He whispered in her ear, “Just keep walking; don’t stop for anything … including me.”

  He jogged to Rosa. He touched her arm, and she spoke in a loud voice.

  “I just want to see them—these bastards who killed my whole world!” she yelled.

  The ground stirred. An arm shot out from the mound closest to Rosa, and she yelled at it in Spanish. Another set of arms rose from the ground, and an infected pulled itself from the earth.

  “Rosa, come on,” Thorn pleaded.

  He stepped back toward Susan, who had stopped in the middle of the road.

  Rosa went forward and kicked the arms that greedily reached for her from the earthly grave. She got too close, and the infected caught her ankle and pulled. Rosa fell on her back and screamed. All the mounds came to life. The infected made hungry anxious noises from beneath the ground, and they began to rise. The infected held on to Rosa, and it used her to pull itself free from its hole. It dragged her closer and then bit into her leg. Thorn heard her leg bone crack. Rosa screamed in pain.

  Susan was at his shoulder. He turned and looked down the street and then back at the house. More of the mounds were giving up their infected, but Thorn couldn’t decide which way to run.

  It was one thing to make their way slowly past the silent mounds. Trying to outrun a horde of angry infected was not a part of the plan. Thorn looked down the street again and decided they would never make it.

  “Come on.” He took Susan’s hand. “We have to go back inside.”

  Susan stood motionless and watched as the infected man tore off chunks of Rosa’s thigh. A bite had severed Rosa’s femoral artery. She had passed out either from the rapid blood loss or the shock. Thorn pulled hard on Susan’s arm, and she followed him in a run back to the house.

  Several mounds stirred on Thorn’s front lawn, so they ran to his short driveway. Thorn drew the .357 and shot one of the infected creatures as it came at them from the side of the house.

  When had the things moved to the backyard? he wondered.

  He shot another infected as it charged at them from his front lawn.

  Four bullets left, he thought.

  There was no way they would make it back inside. There was no time to reload the gun, and he only had two more bullets left to use on the infected. The last two bullets he would save for himself and Susan.

  Four more infected came down his walkway and blocked access to the front door. Several more came at them from the street. Their movements were still slow, as if they had just awoken, but they were gaining speed. Thorn looked around. There was nowhere to run. He pulled Susan close, and they moved toward the street.

  “What do we do?” Susan asked, her voice dis
tant and broken.

  Thorn turned and hugged her. He raised the gun to her head and looked again down the street. He could imagine music in the air. It was odd; he knew the song, but it wasn’t a favorite.

  You’d think when it comes to the end that at least you’d hear a song you really like.

  Then the roar of music and motors filled the air. Three black SUVs came around the far corner; their roof racks were full of lights that lit up the yards. The loud thump, thump, thump of bass pumped from inside the vehicles, and David Lee Roth screamed that the cradle would rock. Gunshots rang from the SUVs, and the infected turned their attention to the noise and then galloped at the vehicles.

  Thorn turned the .357 on the four creatures that still approached him and Susan and finished them off with the remaining bullets.

  ACT II

  Autumn Lost

  O’ what a wicked deception is youth,

  That things of such pained importance

  Mask the blissful happiness of those moments

  That only upon the fading twilight of innocence

  Does resounding truth provide for such bittersweet understanding.

  For these things of angst and confusion are

  But a by-product of a freedom soon lost to the toils of survival.

  A time when such things could be important, for

  They had yet to meet those greater tragedies ahead

  And when the mirror’s reflection unveils a face lined with responsibility,

  O’ those tears shed are not for unrequited love

  But for the loss of that sweet place

  Where all pains and happiness were still possible

  And thus, faced with sad recognition

  The reflection silently carries on.

  For the pains of today, they care not for poetic verse

  Nor the ponds of deep introspection

  That which could be and that which might be are

  Cast asunder—for that which must be done.

  Chapter 7

  An Epic Retrospective

  Everything you need to know you learned playing Dance, Dance, Revolution

  The lead SUV’s chrome grill shone like giant teeth as it accelerated down the center of the road. Its two companions swung to opposite sides of the street to form a V. The three vehicles remained in a fighter jet formation for another hundred feet and then came to a screeching halt. Doors flew open and several occupants exited. The muzzle flashes started even before they were fully out of the vehicles. Infected rushed to the new arrivals, and they were cut down by a hail of bullets. The team of rescuers cleared the immediate area and then advanced slowly down the street. They maintained the same V formation, except now it was comprised of people instead of SUVs.

  Thorn watched with fascination. The music blared, and he immediately understood that the impromptu concert’s purpose was to draw the infected. A crazy and dangerous idea, but it worked, and Thorn was grateful. The vehicle lights outlined the saviors, but their faces remained in shadows. The group’s leader walked at the top point of the V, with his shotgun cradled in his arm. He pointed in various directions. He would call out an incoming attack with a hand gesture and a team member targeted and killed the oncomer. A blonde girl walked in the third position of the right leg of their V advance. She broke formation and, to Thorn’s amazement, literally danced her way toward a charging infected. Her hair was golden in the light, and she wore a Hollister T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She didn’t have a gun but instead carried a large machete in each hand. As the infected approached, the girl raised one machete in the air and kept the other low. She performed a little hop, skip, and spin and helicoptered the machetes with her extended arms. The timing was perfect, and she chopped off the infected’s head. She ended the move in a crouch, with her head bowed and the machetes held straight out to her sides. Thorn thought it was a very foolish risk, but the beauty and grace of the dance of death captivated him and he almost clapped. The girl paused for a moment, then hopped up and walked backward to take her original position in the waiting formation.

  The team advanced.

  A tall thin guy on the left broke formation and jogged across the road onto a lawn. The flashlight clipped under the barrel of his rifle illuminated his movements. He picked up speed and disappeared between two houses. The leader made an impatient gesture to one of the team, and the member followed the first between the houses. The left leg of the V was now two members short. A member from the right side moved left and returned the balance. The leader’s shotgun came up into a ready position, and he fell back into the group to bolster their protection. The infected charged, and the team blasted them. When the two absent team members returned, the leader took point, and the V shape was reestablished. Thorn and Susan watched as the delicate dance of position and firepower leveled the infected.

  In less than ten minutes, the infected that had trapped and haunted Thorn and Susan for what seemed forever were dead. The rescue team approached them as they stood there on the drive.

  The team leader turned to a young girl on his left and spoke to her. Thorn could not hear them. The girl’s stare remained forward, and the leader seemed to wait for a response. The girl finally gave a single nod, and the leader keyed the mic on his walkie-talkie.

  “Okay, bring ’em up. We’re clear to the corner.”

  The music stopped, and the SUVs roared up the street toward them.

  Thorn had imagined this group to be an elite fighting force of marines. Before him stood the leader, who appeared to be no more than twenty years old. His uniform was a pair of black Under Armor basketball shorts and a black T-shirt. Even the scruffy beard couldn’t mask the obvious youth of the guy’s face.

  The leader looked at Thorn and smiled.

  “What’s good?” he asked.

  Thorn laughed. “You guys; you guys are good.”

  “Thanks. I’m Devin,” he said and extended his hand.

  “I’m Dr. Thorn, Russ Thorn. This is Susan.”

  Devin gave Susan a polite smile, reached out, and shook her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Susan.”

  The eldest in the group turned out to be twenty-one, and the youngest was fifteen. They demonstrated an unexpected degree of respect and politeness considering the state of their world. Thorn found it both strange and endearing.

  One by one, the group stepped forward and introduced themselves. The sixteen-year-old kid in the Yankees hat introduced himself as Austin. He shared too many features with Devin to be any relation less than a brother. The blonde Death Dancer was a seventeen-year-old named Annie. After the introduction, she moved impatiently from foot to foot, ready to go. The youngest girl shook hands but didn’t speak. She stood silently with a .38 in her hand and her iPod playing. Annie introduced her as Golden. “But some of us call her Goldie,” Annie added. She also told them that Goldie didn’t talk much anymore. Thorn caught the “anymore,” but he asked no questions.

  Brandon approached and shook hands. He welcomed Thorn and Susan as if he had just asked them to step into his office for a consultation. Nick introduced himself next. He was friendly but reserved, and his eyes scanned the area around them not in fear but in vigilance. Nick stepped back next to the quiet girl. He put his hand on her shoulder in a brotherly fashion, and she gave him a small quick smile. Connor came last. Thorn recognized him as the one who had run in between the houses. He was polite like the others, but Thorn saw combat fatigue in the kid’s eyes and the smile was a little off. He made a mental note.

  “So, are you the guy in charge?” Thorn asked Devin.

  Devin gave a little laugh. “You older folks, no offense, but you’re all about the pecking order.”

  “Oh, he thinks he’s in charge,” Austin said with a bit of friendly contempt only a younger brother could pull off.

  Devin ignored him.

 
; “Let’s just say, Dr. Thorn, I’m currently the bro making the plans.”

  “Yeah, for now,” a voice said from behind them. A young guy with dark hair and glasses stepped forward and stuck out his hand.

  “I’m Adam. Nice to meet you, Doctor, ma’am.” He tipped his head slightly.

  He turned to Devin, and to assert his own authority he said, “Me and Brad are gonna push on through the neighborhood and work the rest of these Creepers.”

  “Yeah, in a minute, let’s reorg here and get Dr. Thorn and Susan back to South.”

  “Brandon can do that,” Adam said.

  “Yep, he can, but you need to wait until we’re ready to move as a team.”

  Adam didn’t agree, but he walked back to the SUV without further argument. Brad came forward and introduced himself. He was athletic and moved like a running back. After the introduction, he followed Adam back to the vehicles, but not before he stole several glances at the Death Dancer. The third driver approached and hi-fived Nick and then said to Annie, “Love the dance, little girl, but you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  She laughed. “Naw, Austin’s got my back.”

  Chris introduced himself, and then he turned to Devin.

  “Do you want me to get these folks back?” he asked.

  “No, stick with me. Brandon’s on medic duty tonight, so he’ll drive.”

  “Look, bikes,” Annie said and pointed to a couple of small tricycles in Thorn’s neighbor’s drive.

  “Did they have kids?” she asked Thorn.

  “Yeah, two.”

  Annie looked at Austin.

  “You know what that means? They might have Coke.”

  She jogged past the group and headed for the neighbor’s house. She was halfway across the drive when a Creeper came in a full gallop on her blind side. Austin’s rifle came up in a flash, followed by a deafening blast. The infected fell dead a few inches from Annie. She turned and looked at Chris.