Surviving Rage | Book 2

by Arellano, J. D.

  What had happened here?

  The door had been intact when Serafina unlocked it, so no one had forced their way in. If the man had let someone in, not knowing they were infected, it seemed completely unlikely that they would lock the door on the way out. Looking back down at the man, he wondered if the man had done it to himself.

  What a terrible way to die.

  But what if the man was infected himself? Was it possible that the man had gone crazy, destroying everything in sight? Yes. Was it possible that the man had been unable to get out of the room?

  He walked to the door and looked at the inside surface. There were scratches, lined with blood, along the length of the door.

  Another strong possibility.

  Looking towards the window, he wondered if the closed drapes had made the surface appear like part of the wall to the infected. At this point, it didn’t seem that far-fetched. Obviously, something was affecting their cognitive skills. To assume that it made simple tasks challenging to such primal beings wasn’t a stretch.

  Shaking his head, he walked back out of the room, closing the door behind him. Outside, he pulled down his collar, enjoying the unspoiled air as he told Serafina what he’d found and deduced.

  “Damn,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I know.” He looked back at the room, shook his head and took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s move on.”

  The next two rooms were empty of people, but had evidence that they’d been occupied recently in the form of clothes, luggage, and used towels. Daniel vowed to come back and check to see if there was anything of use in the luggage left behind.

  Reaching the next room, Serafina was moving towards the door when something slammed into the door from the inside, rattling it in its frame and startling her. She stepped back, dropping the keys as she lifted her gun. Daniel stepped forward, shotgun at the ready as the door shook again and again from the force of repeated battering. As they watched, a crack appeared in the door, surprising them both.

  Keeping the gun trained on the door, Daniel felt sweat running down his back as he watched the crack splinter outward, growing in size until a small opening appeared. They could growls and screams of rage as the pounding continued, sending bits of wood flying away from the door, out onto the small sidewalk in front of the room. A hand burst through the door, straining to reach them from ten feet away.

  Another scream.

  More pounding.

  The hole grew in size, allowing more of the arm to reach outwards. The fingers on the hand were caked in blood, reaching and clawing towards them.

  Daniel stepped forward, closing the gap to five feet.

  “Daniel, don’t…”

  The screaming intensified before more of the door flew outward, creating a two foot hole in the center of it. The enraged face of a man appeared in the hole.

  Daniel stepped forward again, bringing the shotgun with two feet of the hole and pulled the trigger.

  The gun boomed.

  The face disappeared.

  The pounding stopped.

  They cleared the remaining rooms without encountering any other infected, but did find more bodies. There was a woman in one room who had died in a manner similar to the motel manager, having fatally injured herself by shattering the mirror in her bathroom with her head. In another room, a couple had died of apparent joint suicide, laying on the bed with an empty prescription drug bottle between them. The final discovery of the day rocked the both of them to their core, making them question whether or not a God actually existed.

  The terrible simplicity of it only made it worse.

  Entering the room, Daniel saw a travel crib in the corner. Moving past it, he made his way to the bathroom, where he found what he assumed was the child’s mother, slumped over on the toilet, the back of her head splattered against the tiled wall behind her. A gun lay at her feet.

  On the mirror, the woman had used her own blood to write:

  I DON’T WANT TO HURT MY BABY

  Glancing back at the woman, he saw a massive bite mark on the woman’s upper shoulder. Backing away, Daniel made his way to the crib on wooden legs, knowing what he’d find, simultaneously afraid to find it.

  The small form of the maybe six-month-old baby was there, withered and desiccated, it’s face still caught in the scream it had released as it cried out in hunger, calling for its mother.

  Stumbling outside, Daniel collapsed to the ground and wept.

  When Daniel had recovered from his discovery, he, Logan and Serafina walked to the backside of the motel and found a small table and chairs near the green and algae filled pool.

  Returning to the cars, Daniel and Logan drove them closer to the pool area while the others walked there. Together, Serafina and the kids prepped dinner while Daniel and Logan cleared the rooms they’d use and checked the belongings that had been left behind for anything of value. They found little other than clothes and toiletries, but it was something.

  Walking back towards the office, Daniel had a thought.

  “Wait,” he said, pulling out the ring of keys from his pocket. Looking at them closely, he found two that read, “SM”.

  He tried the first one on the lock to the cage. When it didn’t work, he tried the second. The lock clicked open. The door groaned as he pulled it open all the way. Bringing up the other key, he unlocked the front of the machine and swung it open as well, revealing dozens of cans of soda.

  “This will be a treat,” he said, grabbing handfuls of them and holding them against his chest. Logan followed suit, grabbing different ones than Daniel had. Together, they returned to where the others were, smiling proudly at their discovery. Their pride had not been misplaced. Everyone reacted in excitement at their bounty, reaching for the cans.

  A hot (okay, warm) meal and a soda (warm as well) was a decent end to a long day of traveling.

  After dinner, they picked three rooms, putting the girls in the middle, Logan and Paul on one side, and Daniel and Serafina on the other. Daniel handed out watch assignments, taking the early morning shift since he knew he’d be up early anyway. Tired and road-weary, they headed to their respective rooms, eager to get a good night’s sleep.

  Laying in bed Serafina pulled her husband close to her, snuggling against him. In minutes, she was asleep.

  Daniel stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Oceanside, California

  “Get the kids and go, Sarah.”

  The words hit Sarah Ferguson in the gut like a punch from a heavyweight, stopping her heart and making her stomach feel hollow.

  “What? What are you talking about, John?”

  Her husband’s hushed voice hissed through the phone. “Something’s gone wrong, Sarah. People are killing each other in the street, it’s like they’ve turned into animals or something.”

  “Oh my god…” Sarah stared at the ceiling of their small condo in Oceanside, California, wondering if there was any way what her husband was telling her could be true. She couldn’t see it. “Are you sure?”

  “What?! Yes, I’m sure, Sarah. We responded to a nine one one call of an assault with multiple victims, and we assumed it was another mass shooting.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “It was so much worse. Bodies were everywhere, torn apart like rag dolls.” She heard him swallow before his voice caught in the back of his throat. When he went on, it was obvious he was barely keeping it together. “I saw a woman tear apart her little girl, Sarah.” He paused again, choking on his emotions. “You have to go.”

  “But what about you?”

  There was a long pause. Sarah could hear her husband on the other end of the line, but he remained silent.

  “John?”

  Finally, he spoke. “Just go, Sarah.”

  “What? We can wait for you…”

  “I can’t come back.”

  His words hit her like a punch in the gut. Feeling tears well up in her eyes, she choked them back. “Why?
What do you mean?”

  “They got me.”

  Sarah’s heart was racing in her chest as she tried to process the meaning of his words. Her voice was barely audible as she spoke into the phone. “They... they what?”

  “One of them bit a chunk out of my forearm.”

  More silence.

  He spoke again.

  “I’m infected, Sarah.”

  Fighting through her tears, Sarah Ferguson pleaded with her husband. “Come home, baby, please. We can give you medicine or something. We can fix it.”

  “I can’t, sweetie, and you can’t fix it. No one can.”

  “John…”

  “I love you, Sarah. I always have. I’ve loved you since the day we met…” He paused, choking up as he spoke to her for the last time. “Tell Jason and Olivia that I love them, okay? Daddy loves them.”

  The line went dead.

  Sarah sank to the floor, clutching the phone in her hand as she cried. She dialed her husband’s number over and over, praying he would pick up as she did. He never answered.

  What was happening? This was America. This kind of thing didn’t happen here. They were supposed to be safe.

  Leaning against the wall, she wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them close to her. She lowered her head and rested it on her knees as she continued to weep. She wanted to fall over, onto the ground, and go to sleep. Sleep until this nightmare was over. If she could just sleep -

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  Looking up through tear filled eyes, she saw Olivia standing in front of her. The little girl was dressed in her favorite Disney princess outfit and was holding an Ariel doll in her hand as she looked at Sarah. The young girl’s light brown hair, which Sarah had put into a braided ponytail, hung down the left side of the girl’s chest. Watching her mother cry had upset the girl, bringing tears to her big brown eyes.

  Keep it together, Sarah.

  Reaching out, she rubbed her daughter’s arm while bringing her sleeve up to wipe away her tears. “It’s nothing, dear. Mommy’s just feeling emotional.”

  Olivia came over to her mother’s side, reached down, and stroked her hair, playing the adult. “It’s okay, mommy. No need to be ‘motional. Everything is going to be just fine.” The girl nodded for emphasis as she finished, indicating her confidence that things would, in fact, be fine. The girl smiled widely as she saw her mother smile, then asked, “Is it time to go pick up Jason yet?”

  Sarah Ferguson's heart stopped in her chest.

  Her son was out there.

  She was on her feet instantly, moving quickly through their condo as she found the keys to their Nissan Pathfinder, stuck shoes on Olivia’s little feet, and donned her own sneakers. In less than three minutes, she was rushing down the stairs, carrying her five-year-old daughter in her arms. She stuffed the girl into her car seat in the backseat of the SUV she and her husband had bought just six months ago, after his recent promotion to Lieutenant in the Fire Department. Rushing to the other side of the vehicle, she opened the door and jumped in.

  Sarah Ferguson practically flew the two and a half miles to the elementary school where Jason was enrolled. The tires on her SUV squealed as she sped into the parking lot, weaving around the speed bumps, not caring about the normal safety rules that governed areas with small children.

  Nothing was normal anymore.

  Screeching to a stop in the red zone directly in front of the main entrance to the school, she leapt out of the car, pocketing her keys before moving to the passenger side of the vehicle. Opening the door, she reached inside to release the harness that kept Olivia in her car seat.

  A scream came from inside the school, freezing her.

  With one hand on the strap of the harness, she slowly turned and looked towards the school.

  Another scream, this time closer.

  “Shit!”

  “Mommy?”

  Looking back at Olivia, Sarah glanced at the windows of the vehicle. The driver’s and passenger’s windows were cracked open, leaving a one-inch gap.

  It would have to do.

  “Mommy will be right back, sweetie.”

  “Mommy…..!!” The girl’s face was full of fear as tears burst forth from her eyes.

  “I promise, sweetie, I’m just gonna get your brother.”

  “Mommy!!!”

  She shut the door and turned away, pressing the button on the FOB to lock the doors of the SUV.

  None of those warnings about leaving children in your car accounted for this situation.

  Heart pounding in her chest, she rushed to the front door of the school, grabbed the handle, and threw it open.

  Inside was nothing short of pandemonium.

  Screams were coming from every direction. Glass was breaking. Children were running down the hallways, rushing towards her as they tried to escape.

  Sarah moved to the side of the hallway, forging her way ahead against the flow of children. One of the teachers, a woman Sarah had only seen once or twice, came around the corner, her flats sliding on the tiled floor. The woman’s arms windmilled as she tried to regain her balance, but it was no use. Her feet came out from under her and she fell, taking the brunt of the impact on her elbow and hip.

  Sarah’s feet started to move her in the direction of the woman, but the woman was up in an instant, clutching her arm as she broke into a run again. She looked over at Sarah.

  “Get out! Get away!”

  “I - ”

  The woman was gone.

  Sarah turned and ran, heading for Jason’s classroom. She turned the corner and rushed to the third room. The door was closed. Reaching for the knob, she grabbed it and threw the door open.

  A chorus of screams came from the room as frightened children shrunk away from her sudden entrance. Jason’s teacher, a young, twenty-something woman named Danielle Nielsen, held as many of the children as she could close to her as she stared in fear at the doorway. The others hid behind her, doing their best to shrink in size.

  In the middle of the group of children was Jason, his dark eyes wide with fear and worry. Tear stains covered his face, his clothes were dirty, likely from their time in the play area during recess, and his hair was a mess, but he was there.

  Still alive.

  ‘Thank God.’

  “Jason! Come here, sweetie.”

  The boy surged forward, anxious to get to his mother, only to have his efforts stopped by the teacher, who reached out and grabbed him, holding his arm tightly.

  Stepping forward, Sarah stared at the younger woman, feeling anger rise up inside her. “Let. Him. Go.”

  The woman’s face was a mixture of sadness and fear as she stared back at Sarah. “Are you one of them?”

  Sarah stiffened. “Them? Who’s ‘them?’

  Nielsen shrunk under Sarah’s withering stare. “The...crazy people. The ones who are attacking everyone. Like Mister Rudolph.”

  James Rudolph was the school principal.

  Sarah shook her head. “I’m not crazy. I just want to take my son home. I’m here to protect him.”

  Danielle’s hand released Jason, who immediately rushed to his mother’s side, wrapping his arms around the woman’s waist. In response, Sarah wrapped her arm around the young boy, holding him close as she looked back at the teacher.

  “You need to get out of here.”

  “But...What...how?”

  Looking at the teacher, a woman who’d likely been in college less than three years ago, Sarah saw what she assumed was shock on her face. It had taken all of the woman’s wits to gather the children in the corner of the room. Anything beyond that was asking too much.

  Like locking the door.

  Dammit.

  Taking a breath, Sarah motioned with her hand at the woman. “Come on. I’ll lead you outside, then after that, I have to get my son home.”

  “I…”

  Her patience gone, Sarah shouted, “Get up! Let’s go!”

  The loudness of her voice brok
e the woman’s paralysis. She rose to her feet, looking down at the grouping of children. “Okay, class, we’re going to follow Miss Ferguson outside. Everyone stay close.”

  At that moment, the title ‘Miss’ struck Sarah like a shot to the temple.

  She was a Miss; no longer a Missus.

  Even worse, she was most likely a widow.

  ‘No time for that,’ she thought, as she watched Danielle bring the children over. The woman looked at her, eyes wide with fear.

  Sarah crouched down quickly, grabbing Jason by the shoulders to hold his attention. She stared into her son’s eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation as she spoke to him. “Honey, listen to me. We’re going to get out of here, and we have to hurry. Stay next to Mommy, okay?”

  The young boy nodded, reaching out and taking his mother’s hand. “Okay, Mommy.”

  Sarah stood and looked around the room for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing, which made sense. They were, after all, in an elementary school.

  Moving to the door, she leaned against and listened for a moment. The screams of terrified adults and children came to her through the door, but most of them seemed to be coming from a different hallway, somewhere off to her left.

  ‘Here we go,’ she thought, softly pulling the door open. The hallway was a mess, with loose papers, lunch boxes, backpacks, and ball caps strewn about the floor. As bad as it appeared, when she glanced in either direction, she saw no one. Screams echoed through hallways as she stepped out of the classroom, motioning for the young teacher to quickly move the children out into the hallway.

  Sarah pointed towards the front of the school. “Go! Get them out of here!”

  Nodding, Danielle looked down at the children. “Okay, boys and girls, we’re going to hold hands and run to the front of the school.” She grabbed the hands of two children and started moving. One by one, the children grasped the hands of their classmates. Shuffling forward, the woman led the children towards the front of the building, running in short steps to ensure she wouldn’t leave any of them behind.

  A bloodcurdling roar came from behind them as the man who’d once been James Rudolph rounded the corner. Tall and thickly built, the man’s sudden appearance was terrifying. His graying hair, which was usually perfectly combed with a part down the right side, was a tousled mess, hanging down around his face, which was streaked with blood. His shirt was stained and ripped, hanging out of his normally pressed slacks, which were torn and covered in blood stains as well. His eyes were filled with unfiltered rage as they locked onto the two women guiding the group of children down the hallway.