by Amy Miles
“Knowing Nox, he would probably already have a plan in place and soldiers field dressing their AK-47s while I stand around here like a brainless ninny! Snap out of it, Avery. Make a plan and stick to it!”
But that is easier said than done. No matter which direction I follow it will take me too close to people. At some point I am bound to run across survivors or a group of Raiders. My hands tremble at the thought of close contact and I shove them deep into my pockets as I try to push aside the almost immediate hunger that I feel.
The urges are getting stronger. I can’t risk being around anyone right now. Nor can I allow Cable to find me too soon.
I wipe water from my eyes and stare at the small town landscape ahead of me. Random buildings show signs of having been charred by arson fires, probably occurring not long after the outbreak began, when people pillaged and plundered to their hearts content. Many of the brick faces have been sprayed with ammunition rounds. That was most likely done by the National Guard as they fought to maintain control, but it was a losing battle. Panic has a way of spilling over into the best of people.
As I begin to jog, I pass by abandoned tanks, burnt out military trucks and barricades used to create roadblocks that make much of the town center impassable.
“The military sure did a number on this place. A lot of good it did them,” I mutter with bitterness in my voice. Apart from Nox, my loathing of anything wearing camouflage hasn’t changed.
At the thought of the suffering that I’ve endured at the hands of the military my stomach sours and my lip curls with disgust. No good has ever come from their involvement. Every terrible thing that has happened to me since the outbreak has been a direct result of their meddling.
Nox may be one of them, trained and armed by them, but he doesn’t have the same mindless will to obey. Not like Cap and some of the others. Nox at least feels riddled with guilt over discovering the part he played in Iris and Brian’s plan to use innocent survivors in their test trials, which ended up creating the plague of Flesh Bags that now make up Cable’s army. That gives me hope that he will do whatever it takes to do what is right by his people.
At the thought of Iris, the deceased former leader of the Opryland Hotel base, my hands clench into fists at my side. Without Iris alive to check in with the other Safe Zones, at dawn every Zone went into a full scale lockdown mode. After that, human testing will begin on a mass scale and more people will suffer at the hands of doctors just like Dr. Wiemann.
As the doctor’s face swims before my eyes, I know exactly what Nox would do if he were standing at this crossroads. He would locate the nearest Safe Zone and attempt to rescue anyone still left alive, no matter the cost.
“But even if I had a clue where the Zones are located, I’d never make it in time.” I turn to look back toward Nashville. Nox would be the hero and save the day because that’s who he is. Maybe at one time I would have tried as well, but I’m not that same girl anymore. The thought of being around so many people in one place makes me nauseous and excited at the same time in a very bad way.
I kick out at the front tire of an SUV beside me and feel the worn tread give way beneath the toe of my boot. A slow and steady hiss of air sounds as the tire defaltes.
“I’m dangerous,” I tell myself as I turn away. “I need to get away from people, not pretend that this is my fight anymore.”
But even as I speak the words I feel how wrong they are. Who will fight for these victims when no one else even knows that they are in danger? My lot in life royally sucks, but maybe I was changed for a reason. Maybe I can still do some good.
“Right,” I scoff and roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around myself. “Try and be the hero and watch how long it takes you to lose your shit and take a bite out of someone’s neck.”
No matter how I look at the situation, I can’t see a positive end. I don’t trust myself, especially after killing that boy with barely batting an eye. And the hunger I felt when I smelled his fear... What if I don’t walk away next time?
There is a second thought that crosses my mind that makes my breath catch. What if by trying to save those people I bring Cable, along with his horde of hungry Flesh Bags, right to their doorstep? Even if the science experiments don’t go wrong, I would be sentencing them to a certain and horrific death.
My shoulders slump as I sink down onto the hood of a car and stare blankly into the distance. Cold droplets of rain fall around my face, trailing along my cheeks, but I barely feel them.
The road seems to stretch on forever in front and behind me as I sit in silence and watch a second round of storms on approach. Lightning illuminates towering thunderheads but I feel no fear. In fact, I feel little of anything until I look back at the road that will lead me away from Nox and I am filled with a strange sense of dread and a loneliness that I haven’t felt since the initial days after I left Cable trapped in the cave.
“I’m sorry, Nox. You believed in me but I just can’t do it...” I trail off as the wind shifts and I lift my nose to the air.
My nostrils flare as I turn south and breathe deep. The scent is faint, almost indecipherable with the rain, but I trust the twisting in my gut to lead me right. Dr. Wiemann passed this way not too long ago and he wasn’t alone.
FOUR
Dropping to the ground in search of evidence of their passing, I know the rains will have already washed away most of the signs. Moving slowly, but steadily, in a southern direction, I follow the scent of five men, each one slightly different from the other. One odor stands out among all of the rest: gunpowder residue. Wiemann has soldiers with him and I bet I know exactly who they are.
During the attack on the hotel, it would have been easy for any of the doctor’s cronies to slip out undetected. If I were to bet on it, I would guess that Cap is leading the mission and judging by what I saw back at that farm house the day Nox found me, I would wager he has Ryker, Nash and that cocky asshat Jax with him. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on them for the pain and misery they brought to the victims locked in Dr. Wiemann’s underground hospital of torture.
“Maybe I can’t save the people in all of the Safe Zones, but I sure as hell can stop that sick bastard from reaching one!”
Anger and a need for vengeance pushes me off the hood of the car and I run full out, pausing from time to time only long enough to be sure that I am still on their trail. Less than thirty miles outside of Nashville, I come across an outdoor car wash with one of its doors down. Sneaking up to it, I peer inside to see that a fire had been lit over the center grate not long ago. There is still a small glow to the embers near the bottom. I hurry around to the back of the car wash and kneel down to place a hand over the fire and feel lingering warmth.
“I’m not far behind.”
Dashing around the front of the car wash I hurry back onto the highway and zigzag through the debris. There is no way the soldiers packing heavy guns and an old doctor can run faster than I can. With each minute that passes, I have to believe that I am catching up.
As I run I spy the flickering of a lighted fire in an apartment building and a second in an abandoned office complex a mile further on but I keep going. Their scent hasn’t detoured off the road.
Determined to do whatever it takes to catch up with them, I do not slow or stop to rest throughout the day as the storms come and go in a near constant rumbling of thunder. After a while the damp and cold no longer affects me. I am too driven to care.
When the scent begins to grow stronger I use the cover of large semi-trailer trucks and delivery vehicles to conceal my approach so that I can keep the element of surprise. All I have to do is reach them before they hit the mountains. In the undulating terrain I will hold the advantage.
I feel no fear when I think about how the odds will be stacked against me when I arrive. The doctor will be easy enough to take down. One quick snap of the neck and the world will be a much bette
r place. Cap and his men will be armed to the teeth, but the pace they are keeping will tire them far more than it will me.
As I run I create a plan of attack in my mind. I will wait for the cover of darkness when all of them are asleep save for one lookout. The first death will be swift and silent but I plan to take my time with the doctor if I’m allowed the chance. He needs to suffer for his crimes.
Despite the clouds that hang low overhead, I sense the coming of night. My eagerness, paired with Wiemann’s growing scent, urges me to push just a little faster, but as I crest a hill, the ricochet of gunfire sends me instantly to the ground.
I drop and peer out from under a semi, trying to target where the gunfire came from. Through the steady pattering of the rain, I detect what sounds like multiple forms of weaponry.
“Shit. They are under attack and there’s no way in hell I’m letting anyone steal my kill!”
Leaping to my feet, I shift to the strip of grass that runs along the roadside and sprint, pumping my arms and legs in a blur of motion. I can feel the Flesh Bags even before I see the first flicker of shots and know that it’s is worse than I thought.
The road is filled with bodies, some still crawling toward the pinned-down soldiers, while others lie still. From the distant tree line, I see responding shots.
“What the hell?”
I narrow my eyes and focus on the trees. Several men duck in and out of the woods, firing off rounds at the Withered before disappearing again. Others take steady aim directly at Wiemann’s group.
“Really? I have to fight on two fronts?” I groan and yank the scarf off my face and wind it around my hands. “All right, just don’t get shot in the ass, Avery.”
With a running dive, I slide across the hood of a car and come up directly behind a Flesh Bag. Wrapping my scarf around its neck, I hoist it up and over my shoulder, snapping its neck with a twist before I kick out at a second one, driving it to its knees.
Yanking a mirror off a car door, I slam the jagged plastic down into the back of a zombie’s skull and shove him away. Three of them ahead of me turn at the sound and race toward me. I duck behind an open car door and jump inside, crawling across the bucket seats to smash the opposite window. Hands grasp at my feet as I kick, fighting to wriggle through the window. Glass tears at my back and elbows before I slam onto the pavement.
“Get up!” I shout to myself and crawl toward the front of the car.
A biker boot stomps down onto my hand and I scream in pain. As a reflex, I drive an uppercut into the man’s groin, but he doesn’t respond to the pain. “Shit. Forgot about that.”
I drive my shoulder into his knee and throw the zombie off balance, and then scramble to my feet. When I glance around I realize that I’ve drawn far too much attention to myself.
“Right. Well, at least Wiemann is safe...for now.”
I slam my fist into the side of one zombie’s head and swing a wild elbow into another as I try to clear a path like a pro linebacker. It works for about twenty feet before I slam into an abnormally well-built Flesh Bag that sends me tumbling backward. I take out two zombies that were following me and then roll to my feet.
“I’m betting you’re going to be a pain in the ass to take down, right?”
Before I can react, the Flesh Bag strikes out at me and I feel my lip split.
“Yep.” I shake my head as I leap back over the downed zombies. “I was right.”
Glancing behind me to see several more my hot on my tail, I back up a few paces and then leap. My feet land precisely on the big Flesh Bag’s stomach and together we plummet. He smashes his head into a car fender with a sickening thud and I smack hard on my elbow and skid on the wet pavement.
“Son of a bitch!” Blood trails down my arm. I lift it to see that I’ve scraped a good amount of skin off.
The scent of my blood will only send the nearby Withered into a feeding frenzy. I need to get my wound wrapped and get the hell out of here.
The bloody desire to have Dr. Wiemann’s neck between my hands is almost more than I can bear now that he’s within sight, but I have no choice. Tearing the front of a Flesh Bags shirt, I race out toward an overturned mail truck. I skid to a stop and yank on the handle until it pops free and I dive inside, sealing myself in the darkness.
Wrapping my elbow up good and tight, I clamp down on it to apply pressure and, slowly, the bleeding stops. Over the next few minutes, multiple hands slam into the back of the mail truck, rocking it from side to side.
“Cable says that I can control them,” I whisper to myself as I close my eyes. “Too bad he never told me how!”
I focus all of my attention on the minds of those closest to me, pushing out a single message: Leave. After ten minutes, I realize that it’s hopeless.
“Well, that was quite the epic fail.”
As the battle moves off, the gunshots in the distance draw their attention away and I hear their pounding footsteps fade away. Leaning back against the boxes of undelivered mail, I sigh.
“That was way too close.”
The air in the truck becomes hot and stuffy, but I linger for nearly half an hour. When I can’t take it any longer, I unlock the doors and spill out, gulping in breaths of cool, damp air. Rain patters against my face from the dark sky overhead.
Crawling to my feet, I look to the road ahead and see nothing moving, but I can hear shouts in the distance. The battle rages on. This time, I will be far more cautious when I approach.
It takes less than four minutes to make up the distance between me and Wiemann’s group. I test my newfound limits to reach a speed that nearly takes my breath away. This time, there are far fewer Flesh Bags following behind and plenty with bullet holes in their heads to jump over as I pursue them.
The Raiders continue to use the cover of the trees to fight from, giving them a big advantage when the zombies try to follow. I notice when I arrive that Cap and his men have become pinned down by a large pileup of cars that spans the width of the road. There is nowhere for them to run.
I skid to a stop and search for anything that might help. “What I wouldn’t give for a tank right about now,” I mutter and jog toward the nearest vehicle. I yank the dead woman out of the driver’s seat and reach inside to pop the trunk. Rounding the car, I rummage through the contents of her vehicle, tossing suitcases with clothes and children’s toys out onto the road. My stomach clenches when I realize that I didn’t see a kid in the back seat.
Grabbing a tire iron, I rush back around to the front seat and jam it between the seat and the horn. It blasts loud and clear. I duck down as Flesh Bags and humans alike turn to look in my direction.
“Well, that works. Now how do I get past them to reach Wiemann?”
Running at a low crouch, I sneak past burnt out car after burnt out car, holding my breath as the first of the zombies pass by on their way to check out the horn. I see Cap’s head pop up and hear him yell something, but the wind drowns out the words before I can decipher them. A bullet grazes off the underside of a car beside his head and he disappears again.
“One problem at a time,” I mutter and continue to move closer.
Taking a quick count of the tops of heads in Cap’s group, I spy Wiemann and two others. I frown, knowing that there should be a fourth.
“Where are you, Jax?” It seems completely out of character for the meathead to hide from a fight.
I begin to close the gap between us but move only in the darkness between gunshots. Though many of the zombies have remained behind with the blaring car, I am forced to take down two that are sneaking up on Cap from behind. I am just about to dive for the third when the back of his head explodes and splatters me with gore.
If I allow this battle to continue, I guarantee that the scales will tilt in my favor, especially if one of Cap’s men goes down. But as tempting as that may be, I can’t stomach the thought of the
doctor being killed by anything but by my hands.
A sudden spray of bullets from the woods illuminates a small pack of zombies that have flanked the Raiders, which makes up my mind for me. I’m about to lose the only chance I have of stopping the doctor. Screams of pain and terror rip through the air and I take the distraction as a chance to make my move. Leaping over the brainless Flesh Bag, I race toward Wiemann. He is the only thing in my vision.
I am less than two hundred feet back when I hear the sound of an engine roar to life and nearly face plant in disbelief. I realize too late what Jax was doing.
“No!” I rush forward as I hear Cap shouting at his men to run. He uses his body as a shield for the doctor and together they move toward an old pickup truck straight out of the 1950s. Cap grabs the back of the doctor’s shirt and pants and practically tosses him into the open bed and then follows directly behind. Jax sits behind the driver’s seat and motions for the others to get in.
I watch as Nash retreats under Ryker’s cover fire. He is just about to jump into the truck when a shout of pain rises from behind him and he turns to see Ryker go down. The heavens light up with the brilliance of a bolt of lightning that forces me to look away. A thunderous crack is followed by sparks of fire erupting from the struck tree and I see several men and zombies alike set aflame.
“Nash, let’s go, man!” Jax shouts over the idling engine.
“Ryker is down. I’m going back for him!”
“He knew the risks, Nash.” I hear Cap say. “Leave him.”
Ryker calls out to Nash for help and I watch a variation of emotions play across the soldier’s face as Nash shakes his head and turns to throw himself in the truck. The tires squeal as Jax peels out and the men in the truck bed slam into the side as he fishtails and then sends the vehicle plummeting over the embankment.