The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Buried Instincts

by Henson, Lynn

  The undead took no notice of him as he approached. He checked again to see where the girls were standing and then moved purposefully in their direction. He wedged his way past people who immediately took notice and started pushing towards him, reaching for him with their hands. He kept moving though, struggling to keep his momentum going and unbalancing a few of the zombies, sending them to the floor. The rack did its job admirably as it kept people at an arm’s length and allowing him to wedge through the crowd to reach the stage. I wish I had this back at that gift shop. This is way bigger than the rack I had to use back there. My only complaint is this thing lacks the wheels the other one had. He reached the edge of the stage where Kim and Lisa were already climbing down to get to him. Blake took some of the shirts off the rack and flung them into some of the zombie’s faces, blinding them as the girls joined him inside his commandeered retail display.

  “Now what?” Kim asked once they were inside.

  “Pick it up and let’s run as fast as we can!” he replied urgently, “This shit’s heavy,” he warned.

  The girls each lifted on the rack while trying to keep as much to the middle as possible. “Get as much speed as possible!”, he said while trying to push towards the section with fewest zombies, “And don’t let them grab you! The rack helps, but it’s not like they can’t reach inside!”

  With two more people, they were able to move the rack much faster and they bowled the infected aside with ease. After a nerve-racking fifteen seconds of getting aggressively touched, they managed to break free of the group that trapped the girls and were heading back towards the entrance. “Ok, ok, I think we’re good,” Kim said, out of breath. “Can we drop the rack now? It’s pretty heavy.”

  “Where’s Bree?” she asked as they pushed through what was left of the clothes on the rack.

  “She’s waiting by the entrance where we were supposed to pick you two up,” Blake answered. “We have to hurry because it was already kind of bad out there when we showed up. It’s probably gotten even worse.” He glanced back at the way they came and saw dozens of people walking decrepitly in their direction. They hurried through the mall with Blake in the lead. There weren’t too many zombies in the direction they were going and were able to give any they encountered a wide berth. In a few minutes, they had reached the entrance to the mall and they all stopped at the glass door in a row to see what was going on outside.

  It wasn’t as bad as Blake was expecting. In fact, he was expecting so many zombies outside that they’d be plastered all along the front of the building. Far from it, the exterior was clear of zombies. He pushed the door open and looked at the girls with a look of bewilderment before stepping cautiously outside. As soon as they got out they noticed a car was approaching slowly from the right, across the street. Behind the car was a mob of zombies all clumped up and chasing after it. As the car got closer, Blake realized it was Bree who had intentionally herded the zombies into a group and was leading them around Las Vegas Blvd. They walked carefully out to the edge of the street and climbed over the hedge as they watched Bree accelerate away from the zombie herd and do a tight U-turn onto their side of the street to pick them up. Kim opened the passenger door, let Lisa and Blake into the back, and then got into the front passenger seat, shutting the door after her. Bree calmly started accelerating down the street and threw an approving look into the mirror at Blake before returning her attention to her windshield.

  “You were herding around the infected like cattle, B?” Kim asked, sounding astonished, “That’s crazy.”

  Bree shrugged. “I didn’t know how else to pick you up once you came out. Plus they were touching my car while I was waiting for you. I couldn’t allow it any longer.”

  Kim sighed and touched Bree on the shoulder with a small smile on her face.

  twenty-eight

  Once they had driven clear of the strip, Bree had a very easy time of navigating back to Kim’s dorm. The concentration of zombies was definitely centered around the high traffic area of Las Vegas. Go away from there and it became really apparent that this is a city in the desert.

  "Thanks for getting me out of there. Don’t take this the wrong way, but was it really necessary to risk your lives? I was alright in there and eventually, they’re going to get a handle on this right?" Kim asked, trying not to sound like an ingrate.

  “I’m not leaving your safety to chance. You’re my only family in this world. If this crisis ends next week I’ll look back and say I wouldn’t have done anything differently,” Bree said flatly.

  “Yeah, that’s just like you,” Kim said after a moment.

  They pulled into the dorm parking area and Bree backed into a spot and turned off the engine.

  “What do we do now?” Kim asked.

  “Inside,” Bree replied, “Talk about it inside.”

  They all got out and Blake walked quickly towards the barricade, eager to get some shut-eye, but Bree grabbed his arm and pulled him back behind a parked car. He choked down his query and instead raised his eyebrows at her. She gestured over at the dorm entrance.

  Three figures were on the other side of the car barrier. The one on the left was speaking quickly to which Harper was giving back terse responses. The second of the newcomers appeared injured as his arm was around the third person who was taking some of his weight. Both were looking around nervously.

  Harper seemed to be adamant that the three go somewhere else. The guy doing the talking was equally adamant that they be allowed in. Finally, Harper had had enough and raised his rifle and pointed it at the leader. Unexpectedly, the leader stepped forward and threw his arms out to the sides, daring Harper to go ahead and shoot.

  Harper unloaded. There was a ripping noise as the weapon fired and the horrified person with his arms out watched as his chest and stomach blossomed red.

  “FUCK!” he shrieked as he stumbled backward and fell on his ass.

  As he gaped at this scene, he realized there was movement to his side. Kim ran towards the scene screaming, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

  Bree and Lisa chased after her as he watched, appalled. Blake walked slowly forward and mentally prepared himself for what was sure to be a grisly scene.

  Carrington ran out of the dorm and tried to calm Harper down. Kim ran up to the person that had been shot up and spoke quietly to him. Bree and Lisa joined her and together the three of them helped him to his feet. Wait, what? Horror was replaced by confusion and Blake quickly moved closer to be able to see what the hell was going on.

  The man’s gunshot wounds were actually splotches of red paint. His clothes were covered with them, but there were no holes in the clothing and no life-threatening injuries. “Paintball gun?” he realized out loud.

  “Yeah,” Kim confirmed, casting an angry look at Harper, “He’s an idiot with a paintball gun.”

  “I can totally hear you, you know?” Harper told her indignantly.

  “I hope so. Just what did you think would happen if you shot someone up with a paintball gun anyway? What if this guy has a real gun?” she replied hotly. “Try using your brain for once,” she suggested.

  Harper didn’t say anything, staring sullenly out into the darkness while the rest of them helped the three newcomers over the barricade.

  Blake reached the station wagon and realized as he was helping the injured guy over that his companion who was supporting his weight was also his twin brother. He let the injured twin grab his hand and together with his brother they got him over.

  Carrington helped the newcomers inside the lounge area and they followed after them. They were laying the injured twin down on one of the couches that had seen better days. He sighed appreciatively when he was finally able to rest. His twin hovered around him, unsure of what to do, then finally turned and looked at Carrington. "Is there a doctor here? Carrey has some injuries that need to be looked at."

  Carrington nodded, went around behind the desk, and rummaged around.

  "My name's John," said the
group's leader. "Thanks for letting us inside."

  Carrington waved dismissively, "Don't worry about it." He found a first aid kit and moved over towards Carrey. "Now, let's see what you've got."

  As Carrington was examining Carrey, Blake took stock of the new arrivals in the flickering candlelight. John, the apparent leader was standing slightly behind Carrington, watching with a look of concern. He had on some dark grey, or maybe army green cargo shorts long enough to cover his knees. His well-loved white t-shirt with short blue sleeves and collar had been splotched with red paint pellets around the stomach and torso. Sandy, disheveled blonde hair down to his shoulders completed the picture.

  "How's it looking?" John asked.

  Carrey looked like he could've been the poster boy for middle America. He was laid out in his blue jeans and wife beater partially covered by an unbuttoned blue shirt with yellow cross-hatching. Brown hair completed his boyish face that was currently trying to stay composed as Carrington looked him over.

  "I'm not a doctor. But if I had to guess, I'd say your arm has the nastiest bruise I’ve ever seen and your leg is cut pretty good just above the ankle, but I don't think it’s anything too debilitating. You experiencing any other pain?"

  "Other than this pounding headache, I think you've nailed it," Carrey grimaced.

  "Well, take this for the headache." He handed Carrey a small square packet. "Try to not move that arm around, and I'll look to cleaning your cut."

  Carrey nodded as he fumbled with the packet with his good hand. His twin saw his struggling so he took the packet and opened it, dumping the contents into his own hand before transferring them to his brother's hand.

  "Thanks, Kyle. Can you try to find me a pillow or something? And maybe some water?" Carrey asked.

  Kyle nodded and pulled from his backpack a small bottled water that was half empty and held it in front of Carrey's face, ready to pour. Kyle was the bad boy of the pair, his leather pants and a white t-shirt covered by a black denim jacket gave him a tough and tumble appearance. Despite having dyed his hair black, he had the same hairstyle as his brother. A cross hung about a centimeter from his left ear. As brother popped the pills and he bent down to pour a little water into his mouth.

  After gulping down the pills he nodded. "Thanks," he said appreciatively.

  Kyle squeezed his shoulder in response and set off on a quest for a pillow.

  Carrington covered his hands with thin latex gloves and was carefully cleaning the cut with a cotton swab and a bottle of disinfectant. Carrey tried to conceal the obvious discomfort, but he winced sometimes as the work went on.

  Blake decided to learn more about these three and waved at John and stuck his hand out. "Blake," he introduced himself.

  "John. Nice to meet you," he said automatically as they shook hands.

  "So, what were you running from?" Blake asked.

  "Everyone. We're in Vegas on a road trip from Phoenix. Just looking for a little weekend action. Got good and drunk, woke up in our cheap hotel room and the power's out. Go outside and the whole world has gone crazy." He closed his eyes and looked down. "I saw stuff. People eating other people. The ones that weren't sick... some had gotten ruthless, swinging at whoever got too close, sick or not. Others just seemed to give up. Curl themselves up into a ball and cried until death came. We went back into Treasure Island and isolated ourselves as best as we could, but that stuff in the fridge didn't last long."

  "You ate that stuff? It's probably going to set you back like $75," Blake quipped.

  John looked at him like he was insane. "Right. Anyway, we ran out of food and had to go out looking for more. That was ok for a while, but it got harder and harder as more people became ill. Finally, we were cut off from being able to get back to our rooms and had to take our chances running around on the strip looking for a safe place."

  "And you ended up here? There wasn't anything safer between TI and the university?"

  "Oh sure, we tried a few places that looked quiet. No matter where we went eventually those things would show up. They'd come out of the woodwork, lurching around looking for people to eat. The places that looked empty from the outside weren't," John remembered.

  "No wonder you were so adamant to get in here," Blake sympathized.

  "We've been running non-stop for God knows how long," John said wearily. "We’ve been on the run ever since we couldn't get back into our room. We shook off one group of them, and another would pick up our scent or be in the building we were trying to find shelter in. It's exhausting having to be so constantly alert all the time."

  "Well, you should get some rest," Blake suggested. "I'm sure Carrington will find a place you can get some sleep. He's a pretty good guy."

  "That's good to hear." He gestured at the front of his shirt, "This wasn't cool."

  "Oh, he's not so bad," Blake said waving in the direction of the door. "He's just a little overzealous in his duties."

  "What duties?" John wanted to know, "He's not a college student with a paint gun and a bad attitude?"

  "It's a crazy world now," Blake said by way of explanation. He got up and walked over to where Kim sat watching Carrington wrap up Carrey's nasty leg wound. She spared him a glance and gestured broadly at the array of beat up lounge chairs. He sat in one and laid back, sighing.

  "What are they like?" Kim asked.

  "Hmmm?"

  "I saw you sounding John out. What's your impression?" Kim elaborated.

  Was that what I was doing? "Oh, they're just some friends that got screwed on their vacation. Seem pretty normal to me."

  She nodded at that and got up. "I'm fucking beat."

  "Now that you mention it," Blake agreed. "It has been a pretty long day."

  "Come on," she said. "I know where you can crash out."

  He followed her back up to the top floor. He let himself be led into a room that had previously been used by "Steve and Jay" which in the darkness seemed to be your average college dorm room, with computers, a TV, a PlayStation 4, and textbooks were strewn about.

  "Buenos noche," she tittered and left closing the door behind her.

  Blake spent two seconds deliberating on which bed to sleep in and decide to go for the one that didn't have the pillow that looked like it had been crumpled into a ball and matching blanket. He stripped down to his undies, slid under the blanket and was quickly asleep.

  twenty-nine

  Blake was getting a massage. He was in a secluded jungle area, with a tarp to shield his sensitive skin from the sun. The incredibly hot Thai masseuse was wearing a very suggestive sarong, elaborate gold headdress, and nothing else.

  "Please roll over sir," she said, with a naughty look on her face and she licked her cherry red lips hungrily.

  Blake flipped over trying not to let his excitement show. She moved her face close to his as her hands massaged his chest and trailed slowly down to his navel and beyond.

  He leaned forward to kiss her, but she swayed out of reach, that same dirty, playful smile on her face. He relaxed and then immediately tensed his whole body up as she felt him grip him. He stiffened up even more in her grasp.

  "Unnnh..." he praised her.

  "Relax baby. Let Mei Ling handle everything," gushed the masseuse.

  He tried to relax, his entire being focused on her gentle, magical stroking.

  She stopped abruptly, grabbed the towel he was laying on and yanked.

  He fell off the massage table.

  And woke up on the floor of the dorm room.

  "What the fuck?" he asked sadly.

  "That's what I should be asking. What the fuck you doing in my bed asshole?" asked an accented male voice.

  "Oh, sorry. I didn't know there was anyone staying in here," he apologized.

  "Get in the other bed. Haven't seen that moron in days anyway," dismissed the other guy as he got into the bed Blake had been sleeping in.

  Blake picked himself up and barely managed to catch the clothes he'd hung on the bed frame that had b
een thrown at him.

  "Um...?" he said, the questions starting to form.

  "Talk tomorrow," the guy dismissed again.

  Blake retreated into the lumpy bed and tried to reform the pillow into something that actually was shaped like a pillow and was thinking that the bed smelled kind of musty as sleep took him again.

  thirty

  Blake came awake again in a start. For a second he mourned not being able to find Mei Ling again in his sleep and then realized that what had brought him to consciousness was the loud rapping on the door.

  Secondary to the rapping on the door was the sound of a drugged out cat getting the air squeezed out of it when he realized that it was the snoring of the guy in the other bed.

  The rapping continued to be insistent, so he dragged himself from the bed and opened the door.

  Blake was greeted by the sight of Bree's face. "Finally," she said, lowering her fist. "Get ready, something's happening."

  She left without waiting for a response. Leaving Blake's mind reeling. Despite his confusion, he found his clothes and put them on, only slightly offended by the smell of them. He looked over at the sleeping figure and came to a decision. He walked over and shook the figure awake.