Sanctuary
Page 4
An infected man ran at the front of the explorer, screeching and shrieking as Bryce sped towards him. The man leapt at the ford just as Bryce reached him, and the hood slammed into him, crushing most of his lower half as the body smashed into the windshield in a bloody, splintered mess and then rolled over the top of the vehicle and tumbled to the ground. Bryce looked back in the rearview mirror to see the infected woman and one of her new allies feasting on the still twitching corpse of the would-be hijacker. He then turned his gaze back to the road and maneuvered around another bend, heading for Forest Hill.
***
Forest Hill was a ghost town. The high school, a few small shops, and even the church, were all burnt down. Homes were either completely ransacked and destroyed, boarded up and secured from the outside, or boarded up from the inside, appearing as though people were still living within them. Half eaten corpses littered the streets, and occasionally, Bryce would see an infected human picking away at their remains. Farms and ranches were abandoned. Dead, husks of animals and dying crops covered the landscape. Bryce felt an overwhelming sense of dread as he gazed upon the destructive aftermath of what had happened here.
Everyone’s dead. Even if my family is still alive, how can I keep them safe? Or myself for that matter. Bryce fiddled with the radio, trying every station he could, only to hear static or national emergency alerts. He continued towards Roseville, leaving the small town behind him.
As he got to the freeway, he could see traffic jams and abandoned vehicles covering every lane. Everywhere he looked, infected were hunting for new pray and eating the remains of the dead. Luckily for him, the lanes heading towards Auburn and Forest Hill were much more packed and inaccessible, from people trying to escape the more populated areas.
He was able to slowly maneuver down the highway, steadily gaining ground as he made his way home. A few times, he had to get off the freeway and use back roads to advance around roadblocks and wrecks that were cutting him off. After a few hours of slow driving however, he finally made his way to the edge of Roseville and pulled off the freeway, starting towards his parents’ home.
***
As Bryce drove past a large shopping center, he started to hear yelling and cat calls coming from the right of his car. He looked over and could see two men dressed in different articles of camouflaged clothing chasing a woman through the parking lot of a sporting goods store. The middle-aged blonde had a decent lead on them, but she looked injured and exhausted. The fat, bearded man in the back carrying a camouflage printed, bolt action hunting rifle was falling behind. Where the more athletic and younger man carrying a black revolver, was gaining on her.
Fuck, they’re going to get her. Bryce could only imagine what horrible things these two had already done to the woman, and what things had yet to come. He was outnumbered and outgunned, but he knew he had to help her. He pulled into the parking lot and sped up, heading for the trio. The fat man in the back stopped his pursuit and brought his rifle up, aiming at the explorer and firing off a round, completely missing the vehicle. The younger man heard the gunshot and realized he was under attack, stopping his pursuit and firing off the revolver. One round exploded through the smashed windshield and blew a hole through the passenger seat head rest, while another punched through the dented hood, but the man was too late to defend himself, his fate was sealed. The man tried to jump out of the way at the last second, but the explorer smashed into the side of his body, and he was sucked underneath the tires, being painfully and quickly crushed to death. The remaining man fired a round into the ford’s right, front tire, just as the mangled and blood covered body of his friend spat out from underneath the vehicle. The tire exploded, and the explorer slammed down onto the rotor, scraping the black top and igniting sparks as it spun out.
When it halted in place, the man chambered and fired another round. The passenger window shattered as the bullet flew through the glass, skimming Bryce’s right shoulder. Bryce dropped down and opened the driver’s side door, grabbing his rifle as he crawled out of the vehicle. He took a position behind the collapsed, front half of the car and leaned over, trying to get a shot off with his rifle. The fat hunter had taken cover behind a rusty pickup, and Bryce wasn't able to line up a shot. The woman ran behind a Honda, and Bryce could see her sobbing uncontrollably, cradling her head in her hands.
Bryce continued to try and line the man up in his sights, when suddenly, a few shots scrapped across the hood, nearly hitting him. He ducked down and took cover, and after a few moments, he risked taking a peak over the edge of the explorer. The man now brandished a pistol, aiming right for him. He ducked back down, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get a shot off, and looked for another way. He crawled underneath the ford and could see the man’s shins and below completely exposed underneath the pickup. He aimed through the ACOG scope and fired a round directly through the man’s left shin. The bone snapped clean in half as blood erupted out of his all but severed leg, now only held together by skin and a little bit of muscle. The fat man screamed in agony as the wounded leg bent in half at the bullet hole, and he collapsed to the ground. The man pulled up his pistol, as Bryce lined his sights up on his chest and fired again. The large 300 magnum round obliterated the man's heart as it tore through his chest, killing him instantly.
Bryce crawled out from under the ford and dusted himself off. His adrenaline was still pumping from the firefight, and the thought of nearly being killed multiple times today. He walked over to the Honda the woman was hiding behind, to find she had vanished. A shot rang out behind him. He ducked and sprinted back behind the explorer for cover, just as another shot ricocheted off the back of the vehicle. They must have backup. Bryce peeked through the back window to see the blonde woman he had just saved pointing the fat man’s pistol in his direction. “What the fuck!? I save your life and you try to shoot me?” The woman gave no response and continued to scan the ford with the pistol. Bryce moved behind the front hood and called out again, calmly this time. “Put the gun down lady, I’m not going to hurt you.” The woman kept scanning the vehicle, not even looking over in his direction. Is she fucking deaf? Bryce duck walked back over to the side of the explorer that the woman was currently aiming at and slid the BAR out onto the black top. Grimacing as he did so, knowing his beautiful rifle was being tragically scraped. “Please don’t shoot me!” Bryce pleaded as he raised his hands out where the woman could see them. After a few seconds of her not shooting, he stepped out carefully and stood in front of her. “Could you please put the gun down, I won’t hurt you. I just killed those men to save you.” Bryce said slowly so that the woman could read his lips. The panicked woman thought in silence for a few seconds and then, slowly lowered her weapon to the ground.
Tears streamed out of her ocean blue eyes. Bryce approached her and gently put a hand on her shoulder, wanting to show that he truly wasn’t a threat to her. The woman looked up at him and forced a smile. She held the fat man’s black Glock 17 out to Bryce as a peaceful gesture. Bryce smiled back at her and gently pushed her hand back towards her chest. “Keep it.” He said as they made eye contact.
The tender moment was broken as an infected scream rang out from somewhere nearby. Bryce scanned the area in a complete 360 and could see multiple infected closing in on them from different angles, probably drawn by the sounds of the gunfire. He quickly grabbed the .357 that the more athletic man carried, and then the Remington 700 rifle that the fat man carried, and patted down both bodies, finding some spare rounds and a spare magazine for the Glock. "Did they have a vehicle?" Bryce asked as he locked eyes with the woman again. She nodded and led him to a green Dodge pickup truck, which was still running. He pulled it around to the downed ford, having to pick off a few of the closer infected, and then transferred all his belongings into their new vehicle. They sped off just as the infected closed in on them, and as they gained some distance, Bryce could see them give up the chase, and begin feasting on the two, fresh corpses.
***
/> The woman sat in the passenger seat of the truck that had essentially been her torture chamber for the past week. It was hard for her to not think about how the rednecks raped and beat her. She didn’t want to spend another second in the vehicle but given the fact that the infected were all around this area, she had to make do. She realized the man that was driving was talking, and she turned over to look at him. “What’s your name?” The man said slowly, keeping his eyes on the road, but turning his head enough so that she could read his lips. She looked for something to write with, finding a construction pencil in the center console and a receipt in the glove box. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk, she just didn’t like to. Ever since some real bitches in high school made fun of her voice and made her cry for hours. Even though her parents and every man she’d ever dated reassured her that her voice was nice, she couldn’t hear it, so she couldn’t take their word for it. She wrote out her name and held up the receipt for the man to see. “Lauren huh? That’s a pretty name.” The man said with a smile. He seemed genuine, and he had saved her life, but she still wasn’t sure if she could trust him. It’d be nice to have someone to watch her back for the first time in weeks, and be her ears, but she wasn’t trading one captor for another.
“I’m Bryce.” She nodded and then took a moment to look him up and down. He had very short, blonde hair, which she assumed he shaved with an electric razor regularly, and a handsome, strong face with piercing, green eyes. Thick, blonde stubble covered his face and he was pretty tall, probably about 6”3. His body was muscular and athletic, without being too bulky. “I’m going to my parents’ house to make sure my family's safe. It’s only a few miles from here, and I was hoping you would join me. If you’re not interested in sticking together though, I understand. I’ll help you find a different vehicle and split what I got with you, if that’s the case.” Lauren picked the receipt back up and wrote "stick together" under her name. Bryce smiled and said, “Alright, sounds good.”
***
They pulled up to Bryce’s home just before sunset. Nothing seemed damaged from the outside, his mom’s Toyota corolla even still sat in the driveway, and Bryce didn’t know whether to consider that a good or a bad sign. The duo stepped out of the truck and scanned the area, not seeing any infected or other people as they did so, so they approached the front door. Bryce grabbed the door knob and turned it a quarter turn to find it unlocked, but he didn’t open the door just yet. “You feel comfortable watching my back with that Glock?” He asked after turning to face Lauren, to which she replied yet again with a crisp nod. He turned back around and opened the door, letting it swing open as he raised his rifle and cautiously stepped inside.
As soon as they stepped into the opening, the stench of death and rot filled their nostrils, almost doubling them over. They both took their free hands off their weapons and covered their noses and mouths. Bryce advanced into the living room, seeing something that broke his heart. On the big, plush couch in center of the room, was his father’s lifeless, rotting corpse. Bryce approached his father and examined his body, feeling cold and almost dead inside. There was a jagged chunk of flesh missing from his left forearm that looked like it was inflicted from one of the infected, but the bite was small, as if it were from a child. The cause of death, however, was a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head that left dried blood and brain matter stained to the couch and walls.
Bryce wished he could cry, but the emotions wouldn’t come out. Maybe he was in shock. He reached down and pried the H&K .45 from his father’s clenched hand and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. He then noticed a folded piece of paper on the couch next to his father’s other hand, and picked it up, unfolding the note and beginning to read.
Dear Bryce,
I know you’ll make your way back here and read this. You’re a good, strong man, stronger than I’ve ever been, and I know you’ll come to find us. I’m sorry I won’t be around to give you a hug and greet you when you get here, and I’m even more sorry for what you’ll find when you do. They say on the radio that when one of those things bites you, you start to turn into one of them. I've seen it happen, and I can already feel it happening to me. Please don’t blame me for what I’m about to do, I would have fought to see you again if I had the choice. I’m so proud of you and I love you so much son, and I know that your mom and sister do too. Never give up and never stop fighting. Please do what I was too weak to.
Love Dad.
Bryce refolded the note and put it into his pocket. Lauren put a hand to his back as she realized who the man was to Bryce. He turned to face her, and just then, he heard scuffling and banging coming from upstairs. Bryce raised his rifle and started towards the stairwell, only stopping to take a quick peak into the kitchen and dining area to make sure the downstairs was clear of infected. He mouthed for Lauren to follow him and he quietly made his way up the stairs.
He could hear the noises coming from his sister’s bedroom and he approached it, holding his ear to the door to listen. He stood there for a few moments, hearing nothing more and dreading what he would find inside. He took a few moments to summon his courage, and then, pushed the door open.
Bryce gazed upon the destroyed bedroom that was now covered in blood and gore. He looked down at the ground and could see the mostly eaten bottom half of his mother peeking out from behind his sister’s bed. She twitched and moved, even though there was no way she could still be alive. His little sister, Ellie, stood up with a piece of his mother dangling out of her mouth, and just then, the corpse stopped moving. She was painted by dried blood that covered her entire body, and her features were distorted and mutated just like most of the other infected he had seen. She dropped the piece of flesh from her mouth and shrieked at him. Ellie’s shriek grew louder as she slowly approached Bryce, stalking around him like a wild predator. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.” Bryce said quietly, causing the infected little girl to scream in anger. “I love you so much Ellie.” Bryce brought up his rifle. The girl seemed to register what the gun was and charged him. Bryce squeezed the trigger, the round punching a neat hole through her forehead and launching her back to the floor in a lifeless heap. Bryce stepped back out of the bedroom and shut the door, not being able to look at what he had just done.
Lauren looked at him with a face of pure agony, beginning to weep for the dead little girl. Bryce’s own emotions, however, were still locked away. The two of them secured the rest of the second floor, everything looking just as it had the last time Bryce was here, but it left him wondering. Where was Grunt? The dog and Ellie were inseparable, yet he didn’t see him anywhere. They made their way downstairs and went out the back, sliding glass door to make sure the yard was secure, and then swept through the kitchen. Bryce checked the garage, confident afterwards that the house was clear of infected or intruders.
When he came back inside, he could see Lauren pointing her gun at the door to the kitchen pantry and backing away slowly. Bryce got her attention and she just pointed to the door. After a few moments, he could hear scratching coming from inside and see the door rattling about. Considering the tight space he was in, Bryce slung the rifle over his back, and pulled his father’s .45 from his waistband. He then reached out and quickly pulled open the door, keeping his new pistol leveled on the doorway as he did so.
Grunt was sprawled out on the tile floor, and his paw fell to the ground. Bryce could see deep scratch marks covering the inside of the door, empty and torn apart boxes of food, a ripped open dog food bag that was empty, empty food and water bowls, and ripped open gallon jugs of water. The floor and Grunt’s fur were covered in his own bodily fluids and solids, and the dog was extremely emaciated. All his bones were showing through his skin and Bryce couldn’t understand how the dog was still alive. Grunt let out a weak, low whine and tried to get to his feet, but he lacked the strength. “You’re going to be okay buddy, I’m here now.” Bryce said as he put his gun away and picked up the dog. He carried him ove
r to a small couch that sat next to the dining area and sat down with him. “Get some bowls out of the cupboard and put some of our food and water in them, now.” Bryce told Lauren, and she didn't hesitate to follow his instructions.
The dog slowly lapped up the water in the first bowl, and once he had drunk all of it, they presented him the second, which contained the contents of a can of chili. He slowly picked away at the bowl, letting out slow whines of pain as he did so. Bryce stroked his waste covered and matted fur. “Shh. You’re going to be okay now buddy, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re the only family either of us has left.” Bryce choked out the last sentence as all his grief and misery rushed him at once. He openly wept, sobbed, and screamed from the weight of it all. Grunt turned his head up from his meal, using what little strength he had left to lick Bryce’s tears away. Bryce could tell the dog was genuinely grateful that he had saved him and was in even more misery than Bryce himself. Lauren walked over and wrapped her arms around both Bryce and Grunt as they cried.
“It’s going to be okay.” She said, using her voice for the first time since Bryce had met her.
***
Bryce sobbed uncontrollably for almost three hours, venting everything he had inside of him. Once he stopped, he knew he wouldn’t start again. He had two other lives to worry about now. They spent the rest of the night very busy, as they had decided to stay at the house for a while and needed to make it somewhat livable. They moved the bodies of Bryce’s family out into the back yard, where they were to be buried the following morning. Lauren offered to do it herself so that Bryce wouldn’t have to endure that, but he insisted on helping. They locked up and quarantined Ellie’s room and then cleaned and blocked off the area where his father’s body was. They secured the house and back yard a little bit more to make sure no one could get in unannounced, and then pulled both the truck and his mom’s corolla into the practically empty garage. They bathed Grunt in his parent’s bathtub several times and continued to feed him and give him water, as well as start him on some antibiotics and pain killers Bryce found in the medical cabinet. They decided they would all sleep in his parents’ bedroom and called it a night.