Gen X: The Undead Adventures of Chas (A Young Adult Zombie Apocalypse Thriller Book 3)
Page 3
Lala wagged a finger at her. “You’d better be telling the truth, missy, because if I find out you’ve been up there, you’ll be washing floors with a toothbrush for a week!”
“I haven’t, I promise,” Chas said.
“Now, I know it’s scary, and I know Johnson’s death shook you up, but I don’t want you going back to those first few days, hun,” Lala said, gripping Chas’ hands with her own. “That’s no way to grieve. Staring at dead people all day looking like you want to die yourself. Your friend wouldn’t have wanted that, would he?”
Chas looked down at her grandmother’s hands, the skin papery and spotted…old, but the fingers still strong, their grip fierce. Her thoughts flew back to the first few days after they were trapped here on the mountain. Days when she mourned the loss of her friend, Johnson. Days spent staring at the sea of undead that separated her from her grandfather, Grumps, and her other friends, Julia and Alvarez. Nights spent hating Major Brown for what he’d done to them all and plotting his demise.
It had taken a stern talking-to from Lala to drag her out of her funk. It was only then she could begin to heal and take a real interest in the camp and its people. That was the moment her vague plans for escape and seeking help solidified into something real. And it was happening tonight. Finally.
“I’m really okay, Lala. I haven’t been mooning up in the watchtowers or wishing I could die, I promise. I miss Johnson and Julia. Alvarez and Grumps. I wish they were here, but I’m fine.”
Lala nodded, raising one hand to cup Chas’ face. “Oh, hun. You’re so young to have lost so much. You all are, and I’m sorry for it.”
“It’s not your fault,” Chas said.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I wish differently for you.” Lala planted a kiss on Chas’ forehead. “Now, get some sleep. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning. We’re in this together.”
Chas nodded. “Together, Lala. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, hun. Sleep tight,” Lala said as Chas crawled into bed, pulling the cover to her chin.
Lala blew out the candle, dumping the tent into darkness, and Chas stared ahead as memories of Johnson’s death washed over her, revived by Lala’s words. It was something she tried not to think about. Not anymore, but now she couldn’t help it. Even as she drifted off to sleep, the nightmare sank its claws into her brain, dragging her under.
***
Chas scrambled down the waiting ladder and pulled her 9mm from its holster. Taking a solid stance, she fired at the closest infected. The zombie tumbled headfirst to the ground in a tangle of undead limbs.
Spotlights lit the area in a bright yellow glow, rendering the night surreal, and shouts echoed all around her. Soldiers ran toward her, chased by a horde of flesh-eating monsters that were gaining on them with each second that passed.
Chas took down as many as she could, joined by her friends. A couple of soldiers reached the infirmary and also took a stand next to Chas and her group. Together, they laid down a withering wall of fire, dropping several zombies and giving more of the fleeing soldiers a chance to get to safety. In a steady trickle, they reached the building, some scrambling to the roof while others stood firm, adding their bullets to the constant barrage.
The entire time, Chas looked for Johnson, hoping against hope that he hadn’t fallen. Then she spotted his tall frame, dragging an injured comrade across the open field as fast as he could, which wasn’t fast enough. He was the last in line and had probably stayed behind to make sure everybody else got out first.
“Hurry up, Johnson,” Chas cried as the last of the soldiers streamed past, hightailing it up the ladder as fast as they could go.
One by one, those who stood with them on the ground also climbed up to the roof until it was only Chas and her group still standing on the ground. From the top of the building, several soldiers began to lay down cover fire for Johnson, adding their cries of encouragement to Chas’.
“Move it, Johnson.”
“Come on, Johnson. Surely, Texans can run faster than that.”
With their help, Johnson gained a small lead as many of the zombies fell to the wall of bullets coming their way. Emily grabbed Chas by the hand. “Get onto the roof, Chas. Now!”
Chas shook her head. “No! Not until Johnson gets here.”
“He’s going to make it, Chas. Come on,” Vanessa cried.
With reluctance, Chas allowed her friends to coax her to the ladder. Up they went until it was just her. She turned for a last quick look and was gladdened to see Johnson had almost reached them. Lengthening his strides, Johnson dragged his fellow soldier the last few yards, closing the distance. He’ll make it.
She was about to climb the ladder when the unthinkable happened. Johnson’s foot came down on the ground and twisted. Even at that distance, Chas could hear the pop of the bone as his ankle broke. Head over heels, the tall Texan tumbled to the ground, dropping the injured soldier as well. They rolled across the packed earth until they came to a standstill not far from Chas.
“Johnson!” Chas cried, turning around to run to his aid. Strong hands grabbed her by the arms, and she was hauled up onto the roof of the infirmary kicking and screaming every inch of the way.
An infected howled as it caught up to Johnson and jumped onto his back. Rolling onto his side, Johnson tried to fight off the infected, kicking out with his good foot. He seemed to gain a little ground, but even as Chas watched, another zombie reached him. In front of her horrified eyes, the second infected bit into Johnson’s throat, turning his bellowing voice into a gurgling mumble.
“No,” Chas sobbed, falling to her knees as she watched her friend die mere feet from safety, his struggles becoming weak before he grew still. “No, Johnson.”
Why? Why him?
The man he’d carried to safety crawled to his knees and tried to make a run for it, chased by three more zombies. His fellow soldiers managed to shoot them down, and he reached the safety of the ladder. As they hauled him up, Chas caught a brief glimpse of messy black hair and frightened blue eyes. He was young, scarcely more than a boy.
Hands grabbed Chas once more, and she was pulled back off the roof of the infirmary. The rest followed, the howling and screeching of the infected now audible as they reached the barrier formed by the infirmary and bashed their fists against the walls.
Once they’d reached a safe distance, Chas stopped fighting the pull of her friends and watched with numb horror as Mathews blew the explosives, collapsing the building inward and permanently sealing all the doorways and windows. Within seconds, Galway and her crew were there, shoring up the mess with metal containers on forklifts until it formed a solid wall. The lower base was now gone, abandoned, and they were sealed into their new home.
Their new home?
Or a tomb?
Chapter 5
A soft hand woke Chas from her slumber, and she sat upright with a gasp. For a few seconds, she didn’t know where she was, surrounded by darkness and the remnants of the nightmare that was slow to release its hold on her.
“Shh, Chas, be quiet. Don’t wake, Lala.” Vanessa’s low whisper penetrated the fog around her, and Chas froze in place with a hand pressed to her lips.
After a few seconds, she heard soft snores coming from Lala’s bunk and relaxed. Phew. “That was close.”
“I know,” Vanessa said. “Come on. It’s time to go.”
Chas quickly but silently slid off her bunk, navigating by the faint moonlight to find her way. She slipped into a pair of clean sports underwear, jeans, cotton socks, hiking boots, a vest, long-sleeved shirt, and a utility jacket. Around her hips went her belt, complete with her knife in its sheath. All while keeping a careful eye on Lala.
She braided her hair until the long tail streamed down her back and washed her face and hands with a damp cloth. With deft moves, she lumped her cushions together underneath the duvet until it resembled her sleeping figure before turning to Vanessa. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
On silent feet, they crossed the distance to a nearby clump of bushes, the leaves thick and covered in spiny thorns. With care, Chas extracted their backpacks, packed and hidden there the day before already. They were soon joined by Emily and Dean as each escaped from the confines of their own tents, and Chas appraised them in the silver moonlight. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it.”
“Hi,” Emily said, looking alert and ready for an outdoors adventure with her hair tied into a ponytail, a rubber band holding her glasses in place, and a practical canvas jacket covering her torso over a pair of tights and boots.
“Howdy,” Dean whispered, tipping an imaginary hat at them. He looked rough but ready, his hair a mess but his jaws clean shaven and his clothes practical and sturdy. Jeans, boots, long-sleeved shirt, and a quilted gilet that zipped to the chin.
Chas handed them their backpacks before throwing a sideways look at Vanessa. She was dressed in a similar fashion as Chas, and she’d gelled her short bob back into a slick style that suited her full lips and high cheekbones. With her tall, slender figure encased in tight jeans and a leather jacket, she made quite the impression, and Chas couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that shot through her. Damn. It’s the apocalypse, and she still looks like a model. A poster child for good genes and a fast metabolism.
Vanessa flashed her a grin, almost as if she could read Chas’ thoughts. “Looking good, Chas.”
“Thanks,” Chas mumbled, feeling bad for her moment of jealousy.
“Yeah, you girls look tough. Like Lara Croft style. Glad you’re on my side,” Dean quipped with a dimpled smile.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, Romeo. Time to find out if the laxatives did their job.”
With their backpacks in place, the four picked their way off the mountain until they reached the first watchtower. There they paused behind a clump of boulders, and Chas pulled a pair of night-vision goggles from her pack.
It had been almost impossible to steal the pair, and she nearly got caught by Lieutenant Steele, but she knew they’d be invaluable…and they were. She could easily make out the figure of Mathews up in the tower, leaning over the handrail.
“What’s he doing?” Vanessa asked.
“I don’t know. He’s leaning forward,” Chas replied. In the silence that followed, a loud groan drifted across the distance. “Is that…Mathews?”
She looked at him again, and now he was hurrying down the steps of the tower clutching his stomach. More groans came their way, louder and louder until Mathews exploded into the night and dove for the nearest bushes.
“I think that’s our signal,” Emily whispered.
As one, the little group ran past the tower until they reached the second. That one was empty already, the guard off emptying his bowels somewhere. With care, they snuck past and jogged along the barrier separating them from the zombies outside.
It was eerie.
No…more than eerie.
Terrifying.
Nervous tremors wracked Chas as she ran beside the piled containers and earth that was all that kept the undead at bay. In the dark of night, each groan and moan, every shuffle of clumsy feet carried in the cool air, melding into a symphony of longing for flesh. The single-minded need to eat and consume flesh. The fresher, the better.
When she closed her eyes, she could still picture them. A sea of gray. Gray skin, gray hair, gray eyes, and gray clothes. All melding into one being as death consumed them, leaching the color from their bodies while the sun and rain did the rest.
Chas wondered if the whole world looked like that now. An ocean of gray, color forever banished from the world, existing only in pockets until the dead eradicated that too.
And the smell.
Would she ever live to see a time when that stench didn’t haunt her every dream? That peculiar mixture of blood, old and new, urine and feces, rotting flesh and slimy innards, bile and vomit.
Even over the height of the wall it clogged her nose and filled her mouth until she could taste the rot. Not even the camp was free from it, not when the wind blew in that direction. It wasn’t unheard of for people to collapse, unable to handle the assault on their senses. Perfumed handkerchiefs and pots of camphor became all the rage, handed out to those most afflicted.
Gritting her teeth to prevent herself from gagging, Chas focused on the water plant, its squat silhouette looming in the distance. As they drew near, they slowed until they reached their next goal: A pile of debris lying against the wall.
Dean fell to his knees, and after scrabbling in the dirt, he produced a carefully wrapped package. It contained the air mattress that would form their raft, a waterproof bag for their equipment, a length of parachute cord, wire-cutters, and extra wire.
“This is it,” Dean said.
“Good. Let’s look for the guards. They have to be around here somewhere, and we’d best not run into them,” Chas said.
“Cool,” Dean said, shouldering the extra burden with ease.
With careful steps, they moved closer to the building, their eyes peeled for trouble. With the night-vision goggles, Chas swept across the grounds until she found them squatting in the grass. “Over there.”
She pointed at a low row of hedges. “They’re both…uh…busy…I think. Now’s our chance. We sneak past, get through the fence, and voila! We’re out.”
“That easy, huh?” Emily said. “Something tells me it won’t go quite so smoothly.”
Vanessa punched her on the arm. “Don’t jinx us.”
“There’s no such thing,” Emily insisted. “That’s just a superstition.”
“What do you know?” Vanessa retaliated.
“Oh, come on, guys,” Chas cried. “This is not the time. Move.”
“Fine,” Emily grumbled, shooting Vanessa a sour look that was returned in full measure.
Hunched low to the ground, the four snuck past the hedge on careful feet. As they went, the two guards could be heard complaining loudly to each other.
“What the hell, man! This isn’t cool.”
“Must be that stew. I told you it tasted funny.”
“I’m gonna kill Jenkins if I get hold of him.”
“Uh, huh. I’ll strangle him with my bare hands.”
Any further conversation came to an end as the two men were attacked with fresh cramps, their loud groans filling the air.
“Ow!”
“Uh!”
Other sounds soon followed, much to Chas’ horror. She sped up, moving as fast as she dared until they were all well out of earshot. “Finally. That was nasty.”
Emily’s eyes were wide, Vanessa suppressed a grin, but Dean giggled like a schoolgirl. “Did you hear that, guys? Did you hear them fart and squirt…”
“Ugh, stop it, Dean,” Emily said. “I hate toilet humor.”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said, laughing harder until Vanessa smothered his lips with her hand to muffle the sound.
“It’s not funny,” Emily insisted in a furious whisper, her cheeks a vibrant red.
“It was kinda funny,” Vanessa said, her giggles adding to Dean’s.
Soon, Chas was smiling as well, then chuckling, then laughing so hard behind her hands even Emily gave up the struggle and joined in. Together, the four laughed into their palms until the spasms stopped and they could breathe again, tears streaming down their cheeks.
At least, it got rid of the nervous tension that had filled them all to the brim, and Dean tackled the fence with fresh energy. The wire-clippers made short work of the barrier, and they soon slipped through the hole created.
Once through, Dean and Vanessa worked to repair the gap with the extra wire Dean had brought until it was as strong as before. They did not want to leave any weaknesses behind for possible zombies to exploit.
The entire time, Chas and Emily stood guard, pacing the small stretch of grass next to the river with impatient strides while their hands hovered over their knives. It was the only weapons they carried on them. Their guns were stashed inside their backpacks for now.
“Hurry, guys. The guards will be back any minute,” Chas said, glancing back the way they came.
“Almost there,” Dean said. “Why don’t you get the rest of the stuff ready so long?”
“Good point,” Chas conceded.
He handed her the package, and she pulled out the air mattress. Taking turns, she and Emily blew it up until their eyes teared and their lungs burned. They’d barely finished when Dean and Vanessa announced the fence as good as new and joined them.
They slipped their backpacks into the waterproof bag along with most of their clothes, stripping down to their undies. Afterward, they sealed the bag, tied it to the mattress with the parachute chord, and prepared to launch. The only things they kept on them was their belts with their knives for protection, a single waterproof flashlight, and a small sealed bag containing cotton wool soaked in paraffin and a lighter.
“Remember what we spoke about earlier,” Emily said. “This river is deep and strong. The water will be cold. Especially with last week’s rains. We need to get out and warmed up as soon as possible.”
Chas stared at the fast-moving water, the river as black as sin. Her skin pebbled in the cool air, and her toes curled into the grass. Now that the moment had come, the whole idea seemed insane. “You guys ready for this?”
“No, are you?” Emily said, her face pale. The worst swimmer among them, Chas knew how scared she must be despite putting a brave face on it.
Neither Vanessa nor Dean looked thrilled at the idea either.
It’s up to me to motivate them. Face your fears and conquer them. Taking a deep breath, Chas moved down the bank toward the water. She dragged the mattress behind her. “Come on, guys. We can do this.”
Reluctantly, the other three followed, slithering down the steep side toward the edge. Chas stepped down the last patch of grass, and her legs plunged into the water. It was icy, and a thousand needles stabbed her skin. She gasped aloud. “Holy cow, that’s freezing.”