Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome

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Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome Page 32

by de Hoogh, Marco


  She looked up at him, and her anger faded slightly.

  I guess he’s not the bad guy. She realized that she had one of her guns up, so lowered it.

  “Thanks.” Ralph acknowledged with a nod, as he saw her lower her weapon.

  Ralph was just about to say something else, when there was some commotion outside. A pickup truck had pulled up and several people were coming up to the building.

  Romy drew her weapon, as did Ralph. An elderly man opened the door and took a step inside. His eyes grew wide when he saw the guns aimed at him.

  He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa! Take it easy fellers!” He exclaimed. An elderly lady had stepped up behind him. Romy and Ralph lowered their weapons, when they recognized that these were normal, living people.

  “Sorry Mr. Randolph!” Ralph quickly apologised. He noted the lady behind the old man. “Mrs. Randolph. Please. Come in.”

  A third person followed the elderly couple into the sheriff’s office.

  “Mrs.van der Laar.” Ralph acknowledged the third person, as she closed the door behind her and locked it. She was a solid looking woman in her early fifties. She was carrying a shotgun.

  Romy knew all these people due to her job at the bank. She knew that Mrs. van der Laar ran a farm just out of town. The Randolphs used to be farmers too but sold their land and lived on a small acreage.

  “All hell is breaking loose out there, Ralph! Where’s Bob?” Mr. Randolph asked.

  “The sheriff is dead.” Ralph answered. “As is Deputy Ruiz.”

  The way he said it and the look on his face made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss the matter further.

  Just then something hit the window. Mrs. Randolph shrieked in shock. They all turned to see a zombie beating on the window. This was the first up-close look at a zombie for some of them. The distorted face made it clear to all that this was no ordinary person.

  Mrs. van der Laar had raised her shotgun. Romy had also raised her sidearm.

  “Hang on! That’s Charlie Wiebermann!” Mr. Randolph stated.

  “Not anymore.” Romy surprised herself with her cool detachment.

  The thing that used to be Charlie Wiebermann slammed his fists and head repeatedly into the glass. A crack appeared, spiderwebbed, and in moments the entire window crashed inwards with a huge noise. Charlie fell through the window frame and landed on all the glass. Without any thought about the damage he was doing to himself, he started to get up again.

  Romy took three quick steps forward, leveled her mini desert eagle, and put a bullet into Charlie’s head.

  They all stood around in shocked silence for a moment.

  Mrs. van der Laar was first to act. She walked up to the gun safe.

  “Ralph, Cover the window in case another one shows up. You got the key to this thing?”

  “Um... Yes, Mrs. van der Laar –“

  “Michelle. Just call me Michelle.”

  “Uh, ok. Michelle.” He reached into a desk and produced the key. In short order Michelle had the door of the safe open and collected a couple of rifles and another shotgun. She placed these on a desk, then went back to gather some ammunition.

  “Any .380 or nine mill ammo in there?” Romy came over to inspect the safe. She had no spare mags or bullets other than the ones in her guns.

  “couple of boxes of nine mill. No .380 in here, though.” Michelle handed Romy the boxes.

  “Thanks.” She took the boxes, “I’m Romy.”

  Michelle raised an eyebrow and faced the younger woman. “I know.” She said, not altogether unfriendly.

  Mr. Randolph had picked up a rifle and was loading it by the time Michelle and Romy got back to the desk.

  “I see some figures moving this way! They’re about a block away.” Ralph called out anxiously from the window.

  Michelle nodded. “Ok. We got the guns and ammo we were looking for. Let’s hit the road.”

  “Where are you going to go?” Romy couldn’t resist asking.

  “Anywhere but here, sister.” She said with a smile. “We figure we would head back out of town and maybe hide out at my farm.”

  “They’re getting closer, guys!” Ralph called from the window.

  Michelle turned to Romy. “Want to come with?”

  Romy nodded. Michelle looked over her shoulder. “Ralph are you staying here, or do you want to come with us. We figure on holing up at the farm.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice!” He turned from the window. “They’re still a half a block away.”

  Michelle nodded at the table. “Let’s get this stuff loaded up and hit the road.”

  They all grabbed some items and left the sheriff’s office. The sun was high in the sky. It was early afternoon.

  Mercifully, the coast was clear. Michelle stuffed the extra rifle, shotgun and ammo behind her seat. The Randolphs jumped into the truck with her. Ralph and Romy got in the police cruiser.

  “Follow me!” Ralph called out before they pulled out of the lot. He put on his lights and sirens, and the two-vehicle convoy headed up first avenue. The plan was to head up to center street, which was the old highway back before the freeway was built. That would lead them out of town and towards Michelle’s farm.

  The plan never got further than two blocks, when another car t-boned the cruiser.

  Time slowed down to a crawl for Romy as the accident happened. The screech of brakes seemed to go on forever. She turned her head in slow motion. Her eyes tracking the windshield, steering wheel, side window and finally beyond that window. The grill of a vehicle approaching from their left. Then the impact. The sound of crumpling metal. The sight of Ralph getting crushed and the sudden shower of glass flying through the interior of the cruiser. The glass shards captured the sunlight and sparkled in many colours, as if each one had captured a rainbow. It would have been a beautiful sight.

  And then the impact, smacking Romy first into Ralph then into her own side window.

  Then nothing.

  The next thing Romy knew, she was being assisted out of the car by Mr. Randolph.

  “Thank god you wore your seatbelt, missy!” He stated as he guided her to the truck. She was in a daze. She saw the ground drag by below her. She lifted her head at the sound of a loud report, and saw Michelle standing on top of her truck, a hint of smoke drifting from the barrel of the rifle she held to her cheek. She saw the fire explode out of her gun as she shot again and was surprised that the sound followed a second later. More hands grabbed her. She felt herself being lifted and could only see sky for several moments. They placed her on her back in the bed of the pickup truck. Mr. Randolph stayed with her.

  As the truck started moving, time and sound finally aligned again in Romy’s head. She was aware when the truck took a right turn and felt well enough to sit up with Mr. Randolph’s help.

  She watched the town grow smaller as the truck pulled away.

  “Ralph.” She managed to croak.

  Mr. Randolph’s face dropped into a sad frown. “Sorry lass. He didn’t make it.”

  Romy didn’t really know what to feel. She’d hardly known the Deputy. He did save her from rape, and released her from that cell, which surely spared her life.

  Flashes of the crash came back to her. Ralph wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. She remembered the slow-motion images of his body lifting and smashed into the door and window. That rainbow sparkle of glass also included a multitude of droplets of blood.

  Romy looked down. Her hands, her lap and her legs were covered in blood. None of it her own.

  The truck had gone several minutes when it suddenly slowed down. Romy looked over to see a boy running up to them.

  Michelle and the boy had an exchange of words. The boy jumped into the truck bed with her and Mr. Randolph. Romy didn’t recognize him, but apparently Michelle had. The kid’s hands were bleeding but other than that he looked fine.

  They started driving again. Mrs. Randolph opened the small sliding window between the cab and the
bed as they drove along.

  “Change in plans!” Michelle raised her voice to be heard over the engine of the truck.

  “It’s bad up ahead. Quentin here has told me that Verde Acres is completely overrun!” Verde Acres was a low-income community a mile out of town. It was built to settle the many migrant workers that flocked to the area, looking for farm work.

  “We’re going to turn at the next intersection and head down to Billy McAdam’s place.” Michelle yelled. Romy had no idea who Billy McAdam was.

  They took the next right, and another right at the next range road.

  Feels like we’re heading right back to where we came from.

  “What the...” Romy heard the statement from the cab and strained to look through the little window to see what they were heading towards. There was a zombie on the side of the road. Michelle swerved slightly to get around it. It was a guy in full camo gear, with the exception of the Clemson baseball cap. Michelle drove away as the lone zombie started to follow.

  “That was Billy.” Michelle told her passengers.

  A couple of minutes later they pulled up to Billy’s place. Michelle turned up the driveway to the red single-story dwelling. They had gone about a third of the way up the driveway when there were loud bangs and the truck shuddered. Michelle stopped the truck.

  “Tire strips? What the heck, Billy!”

  Romy was getting down off the truck bed when Michelle suddenly yelped. “Oh shit! Run! Get away from the truck!”

  Everybody scattered. Romy got about twenty feet away, when there was a boom of an explosion. She felt the rush of air pressure hit her and almost toppled.

  When she turned, the truck was on fire.

  “Everybody to the house! The truck is going to blow!” Nobody needed a second invitation as they all ran up to the front door. The door had been left wide open. The companions quickly entered the house, closing the door behind them.

  THEY STOOD AT THE ENTRYWAY for a few moments, breathing hard. Romy pulled out her gun. She had no idea where her Glock went, but she still had her trusty mini desert eagle. Nobody else had a weapon though.

  There was a living room to their left. The Randolphs made their way to the couch and sank into it with loud sighs. The kid stayed at front door. Romy took it upon herself to check the place out. There was a kitchen immediately to her right, and a hallway ahead of her. Romy walked down the hallway and checked each door. All the rooms were clear of people; living or dead.

  When she got back, she saw Michelle leaving the kitchen carrying cans of pop. They all gratefully downed the sugary liquid, although Romy noticed that her pop seemed to taste a little stale. Michelle told them she had found a couple of cases of pop and water bottles in the pantry. Mr. Randolph and Quentin immediately went to the kitchen to get some more drinks.

  Romy followed Michelle into the kitchen. The large woman stopped at the kitchen window and was watching her truck burn. “Michelle, what the hell was that?”

  Michelle rolled her eyes and guffawed. “That damn Billy McAdam!”

  She flinched as the first of many bullets cooked off in her truck. “He’s my cousin.”

  She frowned.

  “Was. He was my cousin. Anyway, he’s always been into government conspiracies. One of those nut-case, survivalist types.”

  She nodded, half smiling to herself. “Funny guy though. Always good for a laugh. Anyway, it looks like the paranoid prick put down a trap on his own driveway!”

  She pointed in the direction of the truck. “He lined the driveway with tire strips. Not regular tire strip either – some home-built strip with what looked like metal shark teeth. As if that wasn’t enough, when I looked under the truck, I saw some kind of explosive device. The truck had landed on it and skidded over it, so it was all busted up. It hadn’t gone off, thank god. But then I noticed the hot oil dripping out of the bottom of the truck. I figured burning oil and explosives don’t mix well. Guess they didn’t eh?!” Michelle cracked a smile.

  The sound of bullets exploding in the truck sobered her up. “I figure we got very, very lucky.”

  Romy shook her head in disbelief.

  She turned and walked to the fridge. She was starving. As she ate some cheese, she noticed that she had not cramped up anymore since early that morning. Instead she felt a dull pain in her gut. She shrugged and reached for a package of pepperoni sticks.

  They hung around in Billy McAdam’s house for a few hours as the truck continued to burn. They hardly even flinched anymore as bullets exploded. A couple of thousand rounds cooked off over the next hour or so. And for a finale, the gas tank exploded.

  The new companions got introduced. At least, Romy got their first names. Mr. Randolph and Mrs. Randolph were Edward, or ‘Ed’, and Sandra. Quentin did indeed come from Verde Acres. He wanted everybody to call him ‘Q’. When Sandra asked him about his family, he moved from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. He ended up simply saying that they were all infected and died. He was oddly unemotional about the whole thing, but Romy suspected that this was an act.

  Nobody said much for the next little while, and Romy drifted off to sleep on the couch.

  SHE WOKE UP WHEN MICHELLE ran into the house.

  “We got problems!” That got everybody’s attention.

  “I’ve been looking for Billy’s bunker but haven’t found it. That damn bugger hid it too well. But now we’ve got company. The noises must have attracted them...” The look in her eyes was clear enough for all to understand just whom this company was.

  They all wanted to see for themselves and stepped out onto the front porch to have a better look. The sun was starting to get lower, but it was light enough to see shambling forms approaching the house from the direction of Willemtown. They were only a few hundred yards away.

  Then Sandra screamed and went down. One zombie had already arrived, from a different angle. It was Billy. He’d come around the house and had grabbed Sandra’s ankle through the railing of the porch. Ed grabbed a hold of his wife and a mini tug-of-war ensued. Romy raised her pistol but couldn’t get a shot. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver on the porch. She leapt off the steps and circled around to where Billy was viciously yanking on Sandra’s foot. Romy was able to step right up to the Zombie without it noticing her. She raised her gun and shot Billy in the head from less than six feet away. The small caliber was powerful enough to produce an exit wound at that range, as brains and blood and pieces of skull plastered the side of the house.

  Ed quickly pulled Sandra back to the porch. She cried out and could not put weight on her injured foot. That was the least of the problems though, as the loud gunshot had given the approaching zombies new vigor.

  “Holy Fuuuuck!” Q cried out and pointed at the figures approaching, some at a loping run.

  “Everybody back in the house!” Michelle called, and within seconds they had scrambled inside and slammed the door shut.

  They stood there, staring at each other with wide eyes. Michelle took a quick look around and gave voice to their fears. “This isn’t going to stop them. We need to move. We need to find another place to hide.”

  That was when Q sprang into action. He ran down the hall. “I found this – come over here!” the group followed him to the end of the hall. Q was already lifting a trap door. They were confronted with a very dark hole.

  “This must be his basement. Hey maybe his bunker is down there, too!” Michelle got excited. She took the lead and went down the stair. It was really more of a ladder. The rest of the group stood around the dark hole, not sure if going down there would be a preferred option.

  Just then Michelle must have found a light switch as the basement lit up.

  “Come on down!” Michelle called. Q went down immediately. Romy let the elderly couple go next. Sandra’s progress was painfully slow. Just then, the first fist started beating on the side of the house. Ed was halfway down when the first zombie had arrived at the front door.

  Just then, Romy made a quick dec
ision and ran back down the hall.

  “Where are you going!” Ed called out, his head still above ground level. Romy did not reply. She ran into the kitchen, opened the pantry and grabbed a case of water. She ran back as several more zombies arrived. The plastic covering of the case was torn, and several of the bottles slipped out as she swung out of the kitchen. They hit the ground and rolled in multiple directions. Romy ignored them and continued to the basement hatch. She tossed the case down the stair, catching Ed in the shoulder. The old man went down with a yelp.

  Romy quickly followed down into the basement, pulling the trap door shut above her. Michelle had already turned off the lights and they were all plunged into darkness.

  The muted sounds of zombies assaulting the house continued above their heads.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Romy blinked. She had no idea how much time had passed as she sat there on all fours, with her head poking around the corner.

  Damnit Romy! This isn’t the time for daydreaming!

  She looked back over her shoulder. Michelle was still there, halfway out of the hatch, her eyes full of concern.

  Suddenly annoyed, she gave Michelle a small nod and turned back. She slowly inched forward, seeing more of the outside through the living room window with every movement. The last thing she noted as she got close to the kitchen was that the radio antenna was hanging nearly upside down.

  Great. Just fucking great.

  There goes our chance for rescue.

  She crawled around the corner and got her first look out through the window. Nothing was visible from her angle. Just a pale blue sky and the first rays of sunshine lighting up the interior of the kitchen. Romy continued to crawl into the warmly lit space.

  Thankfully, she had left the pantry door open in her hasty retreat two days ago. She crawled in and grabbed the case of water first. The plastic scrunched and the bottles squeaked slightly as she lifted the case. She winced with the sound.

 

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