by AJ Powers
Unfortunately, a delay was inevitable, as the sun had already dipped behind the skyscrapers up ahead. With at least another two miles to go, Malcom would have to find someplace to hunker down for the night. He was physically up to the task to walk the rest of the way, but moving at night, on foot especially, would not end well for him. He had to play it safe for one more night.
He officially crossed into downtown with about fifteen minutes of sunlight to spare. Staying low and using cars for cover, Malcom crossed through a large intersection, stopping at the first building he came across. Raising his rifle, he snuck through the large glass door and locked it behind him. After conducting a quick sweep of the foyer, he called down the elevator. Judging from the doorman’s podium near the entryway, he assumed he’d be sleeping in a ritzy apartment for the night.
Two soft beeps announced the elevator’s arrival, and Malcom began to walk toward the door. “Oh, fuck!” Malcom shouted as the doors split and an infected lunged at him. A reflexive double-tap to the chest caused the infected man to stumble back into the elevator, where his malnourished body crumpled to the floor.
Pounding on the glass at the front door and ferociously screeching, another infected man struggled to get past the invisible barrier separating him from his victim. Three others quickly joined the efforts to break through the window, with more from across the street responding to their calls. Malcom stepped inside the elevator and pushed on the highest number on the panel. As the doors closed, the infected man on the floor started to wriggle. Malcom reached for his Glock and finished him off just before the elevator jerked upward.
The ringing in his ears was already at an eight, and now it was at least a fourteen, but it was better than the forty-seven it would have been had he used the FAL inside the metal box. And the heavy rifle round wouldn’t have done a damn thing to make the infected any deader from that range.
Malcom sidled away from the expanding pool of blood on the carpet and hopped over the body as soon as the doors parted. He moved down the hall, keeping his rifle in a ready-to-fire position as he checked each of the door handles along the way. Finding the first unlocked door at the very end of the hall, Malcom walked inside.
The penthouse suite was even more impressive than he’d imagined. A large loft bedroom overlooked the rest of the apartment, and vaulted ceilings gave way to a floor-to-ceiling view of downtown Cincinnati on two of the four walls. The design and décor were sleek and modern with lots of glass and other breakables throughout. It was very apparent that whoever had lived there before didn’t have any children.
Malcom had always dreamed of living in a condo as swanky as the one he was standing in but lacked the vocational skillset required to afford such luxurious accommodations. He had never minded his job at the steel mill—some days he even liked it—but the wage cap wasn’t particularly high, especially for guys out on the floor. It was honest, reliable work that provided for his family’s needs, and he was always grateful for the job, but sometimes he felt like maybe Cameron’s parents were right: he’d never had the professional ambition necessary to ever pull them out of their lower-middle-class status.
Cameron never once complained about the lifestyle his job afforded them, though. She always told him that she much preferred having time with her husband, and fewer things, than the other way around. Cameron’s father made good money, which provided his wife and children a life of extravagance, but he was rarely home to enjoy any of it with them. No less than half of each month had him leaving the state, if not the country, while the other half was filled with early morning meetings and late nights at the office. And even though Cameron’s father was able to give her just about any earthly possession she’d ever coveted, it came at the cost of being present in her life.
Malcom was the opposite. He was rarely able to afford the hot new toys that his kids always asked for, or the latest and greatest phone that caused customers to wrap around the block, but he went to every soccer game, recital, birthday party, and school play his kids had ever had. He’d spent the evenings roughhousing and playing tag, and Saturday mornings watching cartoons while Cameron slept in. He’d had his hair braided and his nails painted and enjoyed a cup of invisible tea on more than one occasion. Malcom almost always had a co-pilot whenever he got the riding mower out, and whenever there was snow on the ground, he was at the bottom of the hill making sure the kids didn’t fly into the creek.
There was a saying Malcom used to tell himself regularly: “No man will go to his grave wishing he’d spent more time at the office.”
The words of wisdom rang particularly true for him. Malcom never had much, yet he’d had everything. If there was one thing he could still be thankful for in his life, it was that he’d not traded away time with his wife and kids for an extra zero on his paycheck or a fancy title on an office door. And as he stared down at the city below, watching dozens of infected roam the streets, he realized just how much of a blessing his life as a blue-collar worker was.
Nevertheless, if he was going to postpone his finale for an extra night, he didn’t mind his last sleep being in such killer digs. And the pack of bacon in the fridge only sweetened the experience. After frying up the pork, Malcom plopped down on the leather sofa and cracked open the IPA from his bag. He powered on the Blu-Ray player, deciding that he’d watch whatever movie already happened to be in the drive.
Munching down on a crispy piece of meat candy, Malcom shook his head and let out a sardonic laugh as the disc’s menu popped up.
ZOMBIE RUSH: SEASON 8
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Chapter Eight
8 – Deer Park, Ohio – May 25th
Tessa spent the night watching the moon stretch from one side of the sky to the other. Thanks to one of the Percocets from her bag, her brain stayed wired while at the same time the tension in her body melted away. She learned about her adverse reaction to the drug when she was prescribed some after an appendectomy. It was apparently a commonly uncommon side effect for quite a few people. And, in her early years as an intern, she popped more than a few to stay awake after a long night on call. Because she managed never to develop an addiction, the pills were always effective on her whenever she deemed it necessary to stay awake.
And tonight, it was very necessary.
Based on her symptoms, Tessa was confident that she had suffered a pretty serious concussion. And while she wasn’t overly worried that she’d slip into a coma in her sleep, she didn’t want to risk it. Nor did she want to make Naomi wake her up every hour to make sure she was okay. But more importantly, she needed to keep a watchful eye on the streets to make sure none of the meandering bastards outside took a second glance at the duplex her children were sleeping in.
Around 4:00 A.M. Tessa snuck downstairs and lit up a cigarette. Sitting at the kitchen table, she thought about just how close she’d come to being bit. What would Naomi have done if that had happened? Would she have tried to get to Texas anyway? Or would she have driven back home in hopes that her deceased father would finally return? The thought of her fifteen-year-old daughter having to take care of her little brother in this godforsaken world sent her pulse through the roof and had her lighting up another cigarette with the ashes of the last.
Today has to go better than yesterday, she thought. Luck has a habit of running out, and these days luck and life are one in the same. Tessa couldn’t afford to make another stupid mistake like forgetting to fill up the car while the apocalypse unfolded. Or not checking to see if there was a bullet in the chamber of her gun before walking out into a world filled with crazed lunatics. If they were going to manage to get to Texas in one piece, she needed to perform flawlessly. At least until they got to the boat. Once they got out on the water, she’d be able to let her guard down. A little.
Five cigarettes and a cup of instant coffee later, Tessa saw the first glint of light in the sky above the horizon. She wanted to get an early start on the day and hoped to leave as soon as it was bright enough
to see without headlights. Of course, she needed to find something with headlights to borrow first. She suspected the former occupant of this half of the duplex was home when the outbreak started since there was a large purse and a pair of prescription sunglasses sitting on the table in front of her. The car keys were absent, however, sending Tessa on a scavenger hunt using a pen light.
After fifteen minutes of searching with the ill-suited tool, Tessa had found a set of keys hanging on a hook next to the back door. The location was painfully obvious, and she kicked herself for not checking there first, but she had them in her hand now, and that’s all that mattered. There was only one car key on the ring—a Toyota old enough to lack the keyless entry. But Japanese cars generally lasted forever, giving Tessa confidence there was a working car in the detached garage outside.
Snooping around the kitchen, Tessa gathered all the useful food she could find and set it out on the table. There wasn’t much in the way of shelf-stable options since most of the food in the house was once fresh. She did find a box of granola bars, though, and some cans of instant breakfast. Tessa decided to have one of each before she woke the kids.
Waking the kids was anything but predictable. Naomi woke up right away, but getting the toddler up and going was a completely different story. With each nudge from his mother, the boy fussed and pulled his blanket tighter around his body. Back when Tessa had the rare opportunity to sleep in, the kid was up by six o’clock, but now, of course, he wanted to sleep in. Eventually, he begrudgingly arose with a pouty lip and tired eyes.
As Naomi got TJ ready to go, Tessa slipped outside and carefully approached her SUV. She opened the hatch and reached for her backpack, slinging it over her shoulders before grabbing Naomi’s with both hands and walking awkwardly back to the duplex.
“There’s no way I can get the duffel bag by myself, and there’s no way we’re leaving TJ inside while you come out and help me…”
“Then what?” Naomi asked. “That’s most of our food, Mom.”
“Once we get a car, I’ll park next to the Porsche. We both get out, toss the duffel bag into the trunk, and leave.”
Naomi nodded in agreement.
“Okay, let’s get going,” Tessa said, walking to the back door in the kitchen. “The garage is over there.” She pointed at the end of the driveway on the opposite side of the duplex. “I’ll go out first and make sure the car starts. If all goes well, I’ll open the garage door. That’ll be your cue to bring TJ. Understood?”
“Yeah, oh-okay.”
With her hand tightly clutching the pistol, Tessa walked out to the detached garage sitting near the back of the property. The side entrance was locked, but after thirty of the most agonizing seconds of her life, she found the right key. She was unable to shake the feeling that she was going to be blitzkrieged by another infected at any moment, adding to her struggle to quickly pinpoint the correct key. But she used her paranoia to her advantage and remained hyperalert and slightly on edge.
The morning light poured in through the side door, faintly illuminating the Corolla parked in the center of the garage. Tessa slowly approached the car, tripping over a lawnmower and a wheelbarrow along the way. After feeling around the car door for its handle, she pulled it open and tossed her backpack over to the passenger’s seat.
Tessa was struck by panic once she realized the dome light hadn’t come on. Her gut told her the battery was dead, but when she inserted the key and turned the ignition half a click, the dash lights came on and the air vents hissed to life. Holding her breath, she twisted the key all the way, and the little four-cylinder fired right up as if it hadn’t been sitting dormant the last two months.
Tessa slapped the steering wheel with excitement as she felt around for the garage door opener. She pressed the button and the door wrenched upward. By the time it was all the way up, Naomi was hurrying toward the car.
“Get him buckled in, I’ll go get your backpack,” Tessa said as she climbed out of the car.
“Hurry, Mom,” Naomi replied.
Tessa ran back to the back door and grabbed Naomi’s backpack before making a mad dash back to the garage. Together, both bags took up more space than an adult passenger would have, forcing Tessa to awkwardly maneuver around one of the bags to reach the shifter.
“You both buckled?” Tessa asked reflexively.
“Yeah, but Mom, what about TJ’s car seat?”
Tessa cringed at the thought of driving with TJ sitting in the back seat with nothing more than a standard lap belt to secure him. She considered that problem during her third cigarette a few hours earlier and decided against retrieving it from the Porsche. It was likely damaged during the accident and far less effective at keeping him safe, anyway. But then she was hit with a barrage of flashbacks to the crash and began visualizing just how devastating that impact would have been on TJ’s little body had he not been in the car seat. Even a damaged car seat is safer than that, she thought as she looked at the fraying seatbelt swooping across the boy’s lap.
“Okay, you know the drill, Naomi,” she said while unfastening her seatbelt. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Tessa gently latched the door shut and walked down the long driveway to the street. It had to be a good forty to fifty yards to the road. Getting the seat out of the Porsche wouldn’t take much time, but securing it inside the Toyota would take at least a minute or two, and she didn’t want to be doing that out in the middle of the road for every raving psychopath in the area to see.
She swung her head from left to right and back again as she reached the end of the driveway. She heard faint, bellowing moans, but they sounded a few blocks away, which was an acceptable risk given how important the objective was.
In an effort to minimize drawing attention, Tessa forced herself to walk slowly and quietly across the street to the SUV. She opened the rear hatch and climbed inside to unhook the anchor on the ceiling. With the anchor detached, Tessa took a moment to drag the duffel bag closer to the edge of the trunk, propping it up on the plastic molding near the ledge to make their job faster and easier once she brought the car over.
Moving over to the back door, Tessa opened it up and leaned inside. She quickly pressed down on the red button on the first of two fasteners latching the car seat to the backseats. She hopped halfway into the SUV to reach the other fastener but discovered it was jammed.
“Son of a bitch!” Tessa hissed as she pressed down on the release button with all her strength. Her thumb felt as if it was going to snap in half, and yet, the button didn’t budge.
Tessa let out a furious growl, but an even more furious growl responded.
Stumbling out of the SUV, Tessa managed to catch her balance just as the man let out a piercing shriek. She reached for her gun and pointed it at the burly man barreling down on her. With no time to aim, Tessa could only point, shoot, and scream.
The pistol’s slide locked back after three shots, an ill-timed reminder that Tessa had forgotten to reload her magazine after her encounter yesterday. Nevertheless, the three shots had dropped the infected man to the asphalt, halting his imminent attack. But the shots were not fatal, and the man was crawling toward her.
Tessa dropped the empty magazine and reached into her back pocket for a fresh one. The tsunami of adrenaline thrashing her nervous system made inserting the new magazine a challenge, and the sudden screams of bloodlust behind her only made things worse. She turned around and froze as another infected body sprinted her way.
With her inner monologue yelling at her to do something, Tessa snapped out of her terror-induced daze and finally slammed the magazine home. She fumbled with the slide release for a moment before her weapon was hot again. She lifted the pistol and took aim.
Before Tessa could fire, the sound of redlining RPMs filled the area. The infected man never saw Naomi coming as she plowed into him going close to thirty miles per hour. The man’s head smashed down into the hood, leaving a sizeable dent in its wake before his torso snapped back, fl
inging him to the ground. The car bounced and hopped as it steamrolled over the body, producing a nauseating sound that was like lumber snapping inside a vat of gelatin.
“Get in!” Naomi shouted from the driver’s seat.
With just a few feet to spare, Tessa ran away from the wounded man crawling toward her and jumped into the back seat next to TJ.
“Go! Go! Go!” Tessa shouted over TJ’s wailing cries as she slammed the door shut.
The car kicked and jumped as Naomi mashed down on the pedal, finally breaking free of the corpse wedged between the undercarriage and the asphalt. After sideswiping a parked car and dodging another infected running out into the street, Naomi regained control.
Tessa, still huffing for air, exchanged glances with Naomi through the rearview mirror. Terror was entrenched in Naomi’s eyes with the weight of what she’d just done—killing another human, regardless of his mutated state.
“You did good, Naomi,” Tessa said.
Chapter Nine
9 – Cincinnati, Ohio – May 25th
He felt guilty admitting it, but that was the best night of sleep Malcom had had since his family left for Sacramento. The bed was the perfect balance of firmness and softness, and the thread count on the sheets had to be at least ten million. He propped open the door to the small balcony, allowing for a cool breeze to keep him at a comfortable temperature. And once he found a pair of foam earplugs from his backpack to block out the wails of the dead, he slept like a baby.