©Richard Brown / Incendiary Books
DeadHighways.com
The Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Continues…
Jimmy and his group of survivors begin to head west. Destination: New Orleans.
But the passage won’t be easy. The roads are crowded with packs of infected. And to make matters worse, the virus may be entering a second stage—one where no one is immune, and everyone is a potential victim.
Relationships will be put to the test. Tough choices will be made. In this new world where hope is the currency, it’s hard not to be penniless.
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Other books by Richard Brown
Titanic with Zombies
Part 4: Divided
Part 5: Road Warriors
Part 6: Choices
*
They found us.
The infected.
And it made perfect sense, didn’t it?
The gunshot had given away the location of our campsite, our little hideaway a half mile or so off Highway 528. But how did they find us so fast? I heard them trudging through the brush, twigs snapping beneath their feet, not thirty seconds after Diego had put my gun to his head and invited death. So they must have known where we were all along. They must have been snooping around in the dark woods like predators, watching us, waiting for the perfect time to make us their meal.
And that time was now.
I clicked the flashlight back on and shined it down at the ground, trying hard not to let the beam fall upon Diego’s destroyed head. Where the fuck is she—she who had aided in his suicide, as I had? My Sally.
I swept the flashlight back and forth along Diego’s body, searching, trembling, knowing I needed to hurry or I’d have to leave her behind for good.
Finally, I noticed the barrel end of the gun sticking out from under Diego’s forearm. I bent down and slid her out, felt the wet of Diego’s blood as I wrapped my hand around the grip. Oh well, no time to be grossed out—not by a little blood, even if it belonged to a dead man. I had experienced much worse than that already. No time to look out for snakes either, as I hurried back to the campsite. We had bigger problems, and at any moment, they’d be upon us.
“Wake up!” I yelled, shaking each of the three tents. “Everyone, wake up now!”
They came out of the tents like ants scattering from an anthill, like incredibly slow and lazy ants.
Bowser was first to pop out. “What’s up?” he asked, looking down at the gun in my hand. “Who’d you shoot?”
“Nobody,” I said. “We have to go. They found us.”
Robinson came up beside Bowser looking groggy. “Where’s Diego?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t even consider telling them the truth. The lie came out with no resistance. “We have to hurry. They’re coming.”
But I was wrong. They weren’t coming.
They were already there.
Two of them to start, a man and a woman, stepping out of the darkness and into the soft orange light still flickering from our dying fire.
Jax started barking at them, but when the two infected made a move toward him, he quickly scrambled backward, afraid for his life, and stopped next to Robinson.
“Jimmy, are you gonna shoot them or what?” the former officer said.
Oh yeah, I was the only one currently holding a gun. I raised it and started squeezing off shots.
Peaches, Aamod, and Naima had all now emerged from their tents and were trying to figure out what was going on. Ted, however, knew exactly what was going on. He came out with two black tactical rifles, one in each hand, and tossed one of them to Robinson.
The first two infected were now down for the count, but five more were right behind them. I shot at them until the gun was empty. Good thing Robinson was now up and gunning, popping off shots in rapid succession.
I reached into my front pants pocket to retrieve my spare magazine, and that’s when it hit me. Something. From behind. Hard. On the back of my head. I fell forward, dropped both the gun and the magazine.
I rolled over, feeling dizzy. I tried to get up but I couldn’t move.
Someone was yelling, “Back to the highway!”
Then two large men filled my field of vision. They put their cold hands around my throat and began to squeeze, the same as they had done to Luna. Suffocating me. I tried to peel their hands away, with no luck. Each of them probably had more strength in one of their hands than I had in two.
In seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
Around me, chaos had erupted. I no longer heard any gunshots, but I did hear screaming. It was clear we’d quickly become outnumbered.
Then my eyes began to roll back and my vision got blurry. I couldn’t pull in one ounce of air, and I knew the two men choking me wouldn’t stop until they were sure I would never be able to again.
I made one final attempt to peel their fingers off my throat, and then I let my arms fall back down at my sides.
This was it. This was how it would end. With me looking up at the stone faces of two strangers who for whatever reason were committed to taking my life, no matter if it cost them their own.
And they were taking it—my life—little by little, with each second that passed.
Fine. Good. If these were the type of people I’d have to share the world with, maybe I’d be better off dead.
My whole body felt numb.
I began fading out of consciousness.
Any moment, I would leave this place. The black train that would take me to my final destination had already arrived, and it was ready to go.
Next stop: unknown.
I didn’t open my eyes. They seemed to come open on their own.
And I suddenly realized I could breathe again.
I heaved for air, coughed, heaved, coughed. The two men were no longer on top of me. They were distracted by Peaches, who had come up and somehow drawn their attention away. She had saved my life, and not a moment too soon. A second later she was on her back, screaming like a girl, trying to fight both of them off, just as I had.
Now it was my turn to do something heroic.
I had to save her.
I sat up, glanced around the grass and saw Sally within reach. Where the spare magazine had gone, however, I had no clue. I picked up the gun and then slowly stood up as quiet as possible so the two men wouldn’t notice me. So they’d continue to think I was dead.
I circled the campsite with my eyes, didn’t want anyone sneaking up behind me again. There was no one else around that I could see except Peaches and I, and of course, the two infected men attacking her, clasping their hands around her neck. Everyone else from the group was gone. Robinson. Ted. Bowser. Even the dog. Gone. I remember hearing someone yell to head back to the highway.
For one crazy moment, I considered going at the two men with the empty gun—smack them around with it until their faces were swollen the color of Barney the fucking dinosaur—like you see in the movies. One. Crazy. Moment.
Then I woke up and rejoined reality. I was a skinny book nerd with glasses and a Harry Potter T-shirt on, not Ray Liotta.
On the ground nearby, I found the spare magazine. I loaded it into the gun, racked the slide, and then fired a shot into the air. That should get their attention. No way I was gonna take a shot at either of them and chance Peaches being hit unless I had no other choice.
Luckily, the warning shot worked as planned.
The two infected men stopped choking Peaches and looked over at me. Neither of them looked surprised to see me alive. Much like Kristen Stewart, the infected were only capable of one expression.
They jumped up
and lunged at me one behind the other, and I placed a couple of rounds in each of their chests—like a boss. Even as they curled up on the ground, dying, their expressions never changed. If they felt pain, they didn’t show it. Perhaps their brains simply didn’t know how to properly interpret pain anymore.
Whatever.
I had returned the favor. That was all that mattered. I had saved Peaches, who was squirming around on her back, hurt, gasping for air, but alive.
I knelt down next to her and offered a hand. She used it to help sit up.
“Thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
She rubbed at her neck. Even under the dim glow of the fire, I could tell it was red and scratched up. My neck probably looked the same, but it was mostly the back of my head that hurt.
Then Olivia started crying.
“Oh my God,” Peaches said, hurrying up and into the tent where Olivia lay wrapped up in the corner.
“I didn’t even realize she was still here,” I said, poking my head into the tent.
“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Peaches whispered to Olivia as she rocked her back and forth.
Then gunshots echoed from somewhere in the distance.
“We need to go. We need to catch up with the others.”
“Should we take anything?”
I glanced around camp. Most of the stuff we’d brought out was still there. The tents. Sleeping bags. Water. MRE’s. The one exception being the weapons, of course. Ted would never leave them behind.
“Just Olivia’s bag. The rest of this stuff is expendable. Come on, we gotta hurry.”
We headed off into the woods in the direction of the highway. Peaches held Olivia with both hands, baby bag slung over her shoulder. I had a flashlight in my left hand and Sally in my right.
Not long after we ventured from the campsite, I heard another rustling sound. “Stop,” I whispered, clicking off the flashlight. “Did you hear that?”
We both stood still and listened.
No sound but the night breeze sweeping through the tall trees.
“Hear what?” Peaches asked.
“I don’t know. It was probably just the wind. Let’s keep going.”
I clicked the flashlight back on and continued our trek to the highway. Within fifteen seconds, I heard the sound again.
“Tell me you heard it that time. Or am I going crazy?”
This time I didn’t click the flashlight off. Instead, I turned in a circle and arched the beam through the trees like a searchlight, up and down, slicing open the darkness.
“Sorry, I didn’t,” Peaches whispered. “What did it sound like?”
“Like an extra pair of footsteps,” I replied, still searching our position with the flashlight. “I think we’re being followed.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I wouldn’t say it unless I thought it was true. Just keep your eyes open. We should pick up the ... wait ... there.” I had the light pinned on a large tree. “I think I saw someone.”
Peaches scanned the area I’d highlighted with the flashlight. “I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s because they’re hiding behind that tree.”
She took a step back. “Jimmy, you’re scaring me. If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”
“No joke. I swear I saw someone slip behind that tree just as I turned the light.” I raised the gun, kept the flashlight fixed on the stocky tree trunk. “Get behind me and be ready. I’m gonna shoot the tree. Maybe it’ll force them out.”
Peaches moved behind me and covered Olivia’s ears.
I aimed at the tree, square in the center, and rested my finger on the trigger. Next thing I knew two eyes were staring back at me from around the tree.
I lowered the gun but kept the light on our follower. She had shoulder length blonde hair, a cute, round face, and was no more than four feet tall. A little girl.
Our follower was a little girl.
“Hello,” I called out softly. “Can you hear me?”
I knew she could, unless she was deaf. I just wanted to gauge her reaction. I couldn’t tell yet if she was infected, and after the incident with Diego and the young boy, I didn’t want to rush to judgment.
The little girl slipped back behind the tree again.
I sighed. “What should we do? I would say forget her … but what if she’s not infected?”
“Why would she be out here in the woods all by herself?”
“Same reason we are … to keep out of sight. Not that it worked out so well for us.”
The little girl once again peered around the tree.
“Hey there,” I said, kneeling down to show her I wasn’t a threat. “What’s your name?”
Apparently, the sound of my voice must scare young children. She immediately hid back behind the tree.
“I think she’s infected, Jimmy.”
I nodded. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t worry about her, I doubt she’ll try anything. She seems more curious than dangerous. Let’s just hurry back to the highway.”
I finally took the light off the tree, spun around, and turned the light on Peaches.
A man was standing behind her.
Hold on. Let me say that again.
A fucking man was standing behind her!
That blond-haired, cute, round-faced, innocent little infected girl had outsmarted us.
Delayed us.
Set us up.
All so big daddy could do the dirty work.
Before I could even utter a dry croak from my throat, big daddy grabbed Peaches from behind and shoved her to the ground. Peaches yelped as she landed hard in the brush. He struck Peaches once in the side of the head with a hammer fist to shut her up. Olivia was buried somewhere underneath her, crying.
Then he came for me, and I put a hole in his chest. Only one, as I suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching from behind me. The little girl, running our way, making her move.
So much for compassion.
I spun around and shot into the dark, hoping I hit something.
I did, just not her.
Before I could pull the trigger again I was falling forward, balance be damned, and landed face first in the wet weeds. Big daddy had pushed me from behind. One bullet wasn’t enough to put him down.
I rolled over, felt the itch of bugs crawling on my arms and neck. In front of me, the little girl stood over Peaches, who was now rolling over herself, crying out in pain. She had unintentionally exposed Olivia to the infected girl.
A few feet away, big daddy was down on one knee, working to stand up. From my back, I lifted the gun and shot him two more times in the shoulder and chest. This time he fell over.
I had to be mindful of how many shots I took. The magazine held fifteen rounds, and when it was empty, that would be it. I had no more spares on me. No extra gun hidden in my shoe.
Still, I raised Sally again, aimed her at the little girl. She slowly bent down and picked up Olivia with two hands.
By the throat.
“No,” Peaches cried out, reaching up for Olivia. But the little girl stepped back out of her reach.
But not out of mine.
I pulled the trigger and shot her in the left leg. She instantly collapsed, dropping Olivia next to Peaches.
Peaches quickly scooped the baby up and tried to calm her, as Olivia huffed for air between cries.
I got up from the ground and helped Peaches up. Then we stood over the little infected girl and watched as she dragged her body across the ground. The bullet had shattered her kneecap. She’d never use that leg again, no matter how hard she tried to stand back up on it—no matter if she felt any pain. The blood didn’t care. It was leaving, and eventually she’d die.
Eventually.
“Shoot her, Jimmy,” Peaches said.
“What?”
“We can’t save her. She’s infected. But we can’t leave her like this either. She’ll bleed to death. Put her out of her misery.”
“What
makes you think she’s even in misery?”
“They may not feel pain like us, but maybe they do in another way.”
“Like how they communicate?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe. It’s just … hard, ya know, cause she’s just a little girl.”
“She almost killed Olivia. She’s not a little girl anymore. She’s not human. Not like us, anyway.”
I nodded. “I know.”
I’d aim for the heart. I couldn’t bring myself to shoot her in the head, not after seeing what had happened to Diego. It was hard enough to build up the courage to shoot her at all—to put her out of her misery, as Peaches had said. But I thought of it more like giving her peace.
As I raised the gun, I remembered thinking a day or so ago that the best part of this new world was no more bullshit laws.
This was the worst part.
Ten minutes later, we made it back to the highway. We stayed at the edge of the woods and peered out at the clogged up lanes, the endless line of abandoned vehicles, where every so often, an infected person would stroll by, heading west toward Orlando, with their arms down at their sides like drones.
“Where are they?” Peaches whispered. “I don’t see the cars.”
“Neither do I.”
“Do you think they left us?”
“I hope not. But I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”
“We took too long.”
“Yeah, we took way too long.”
“It wasn’t our fault. We almost died back there.”
“I know. But as far as they know, we did die. That’s why I wouldn’t blame them if they left. But I don’t think this is the right spot anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we got a little off course heading back. I remember there was a Mack truck in the right hand lane, next to where we left the cars.”
“There’s lots of big trucks out here. How do you know it’s not one of these?”
“This one didn’t have a trailer. It was just the truck. I think it was a dark blue color, but that might be hard to tell at night. Come on. Let’s go further west. It’s probably not far up.”
Dead Highways (Book 2): Passage Page 1