A sense of urgency hung about the camp, and it seemed we all felt it. Conversations were clipped and short. Not angry or impatient, but focused and intense. Perhaps we all felt the earth’s pulse and knew our situation was becoming increasingly insecure. We scrounged from our supplies of canned and pre-packaged convenience foods with the hurried efficiency of a determined platoon on a mission. I noticed Jordan’s face appeared puffy, and he’d developed a constant sniffle.
“You feeling okay?” I asked. My breath formed a wisp of fog in the air as I spoke.
He shook his head. “I’m stopped up. Must be catching a cold from this weather.” His voice had taken on a thick, nasally quality.
“You can’t catch a cold from the weather.” Verna was stuffing supplies back into the bags we’d slept on. “Viruses and bacteria can make you sick, but not the temperature alone.”
“Well, whatever it is,” Jordan countered, “I feel like crap. My head is killing me.”
A concerned furrow rippled across Verna’s brow. “There’s nothing for me to work with here,” she muttered. She rifled through the supplies but found only a bottle of aspirin. “This will help with pain, but if you’re coming down with an infection…” Her voice trailed off, and for the first time I’d witnessed, the nurse looked as if she was at a loss. “Damn.”
We exchanged knowing glances, and I suspected we were thinking the same thing. The risks to our lives were compounding with each passing hour. Zombies and BioGenetics were bad enough. Take away shelter, and add the onset of cold weather, and our chances of getting through this alive were meager at best.
After quickly tossing down some breakfast, such as it was, we continued our northeastern migration, making our way toward the waterway Kyle had mentioned we would have to cross. We traversed the rolling hills, and the contour of the land settled into a gradual decline. As we drew near, I could hear the muffled sounds of rushing water lapping against the rock. We reached a churning body of water and stopped to plan a way to cross. At this point, it looked about half as wide as the length of a football field and had sections varying between still water, moderate currents, and rapids. I guessed it was probably a river, as opposed to a creek. Walking along the bank, we spread out and surveyed the depths and currents.
From upstream, Kyle waved to get our attention. “I found a place where we can almost see the bottom. It’s not too deep, but we’ll need to take off our shoes and socks and roll up our pant legs,” he said.
“Let’s do this,” Jordan said, still sniffling and looking like stepping into a swirling stream of icy water was his personal idea of hell.
We studied the task before us as if we were about to consume a plate of cafeteria food of dubious origins. For the most part, the creek bed was visible, but there were a few spots where violent rapids swept over rocks and obscured what was beneath. The creek ran at the base of two hills, and the higher bank across from us was much steeper than our side. The water’s surface over there seemed darker and calmer.
“I think we should take turns,” Kyle answered as he glanced about our group, eyeing the loads we carried. “We can cross one at a time. The rest of us can serve as lookouts for anyone who is in the water and cover them, and each other, with our rifles as a last resort, if necessary,” he continued.
“Makes sense,” Jordan agreed. “Those rapids may indicate drop-offs or steep downgrades. It will be harder to keep your balance walking through them.” He pointed across the creek. “Over there, it looks deeper, possibly by a foot or more. “You could easily fall,” he told Verna. “Maybe we should go together.”
Verna’s features shifted from annoyance to resignation and back again. “Yes, I’m going to need help.” The look on her face made it clear it killed her to admit this.
Kyle nodded. “Okay, so I’ll go first and take Verna’s bag and gun. Once I’m sure all is clear on the other side, Jordan, you and Verna can come next. Casey, can you cover the rear?”
“No problem.”
I stood on the bank and watched them take off their shoes and what remained of the socks we’d repurposed. They each stuffed them into their packs. Kyle rolled up his pants. He slung his and Verna’s bags across his back, along with her gun, and stepped into the water. In his hands, Kyle held his own rifle and hoisted it above his head. He had to be freezing, but showed no visible sign that he felt the cold. With determination etched across his face, Kyle sloshed through the knee-deep water. Reaching the rapids, he slowed his pace and took careful steps, feeling for the bottom. Kyle shifted his weight forward only after ensuring the creek bed was solid enough to hold. His body descended deeper into the water as he progressed.
Kyle reached the other side and heaved his rifle onto the ground before him. He tossed Verna’s weapon, and the two bags of supplies, onto the grass before scaling the embankment. Reaching the top, he stood up, shook his head, and turned to face us before stopping still. His face darkened.
“What’s wrong?” I called, attempting to keep my voice loud enough to be heard over the babbling water, but not so loud as to carry too far. Even so, it sounded out in the morning stillness as if I’d shouted through a bullhorn. Instincts kicked in, and I turned to scan the area around me, in search of any threat. An unsettling tingle crawled across my shoulders as my muscles tightened. I saw nothing, but my defensive senses remained poised and ready for fight or flight.
Kyle held up his hand in warning and shook his head in response. He must have felt it, too. Pivoting in a slow, three-sixty rotation, he made a careful assessment of the area. We all mimicked his actions, our ears trained, and eyes wary.
At length, Kyle raised his index finger to his lips, cautioning us to stay quiet. He crooked his fingers at us and motioned for Jordan and Verna to cross. With Kyle covering their foreground, I paced back and forth on the opposite bank and watched for anything that might signal the presence of an intruder, a zombie, or perhaps a coyote pack.
Jordan stepped into the water and offered a hand to Verna in assistance. She stepped down off the bank, extending her braced leg forward into the frigid depths. It was an awkward movement, and it appeared her other knee was stiff, making the transition difficult. She grimaced and nearly slipped, face forward, but Jordan lunged in front of her, breaking her fall. Once she was in the creek, the rushing water was well above Verna’s knees, and its force wobbled her body as she fought to remain upright. Jordan positioned himself beside her on the upstream side, which seemed to buffer her from the oncoming rush.
I couldn’t know for sure what kind of threat fueled the electric fear that bristled the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. I saw nothing, but my tension hadn’t subsided as I alternated between watching Verna and Jordan’s progress, and checking around me for anything out of the ordinary, a snapped twig, a glimpse of movement, or some other sign of danger. With my hearing dulled, I felt even more vulnerable out in the open. Perhaps the palpable tension in the air was just my awareness of how compromised my defenses were, and not that I was sensing an actual threat in the vicinity. At least, that was my hope.
It seemed a century had passed by the time Jordan and Verna reached the opposite side of the water. It struck me that I should have felt relieved, but the sense of foreboding remained. It had settled in around me, continuously fueling the fear that some unseen predator, human or otherwise, was near. I watched Jordan struggle as he attempted to help Verna lift herself onto the opposite bank. I felt myself foolishly pushing my arms forward and up with all my strength, as if I might somehow help them from across the water, and hurry them along.
Jordan kept sliding back down the bank, and he nearly lost his grip on Verna. Both of them were shivering in the frigid air. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as I realized how easily both of them could lose their footing and be drenched. This was going to slow us down even more because we would need to build a fire to dry out and warm everyone up before moving on.
Kyle dropped to his knees and spread himself flat on the bank, with the upper ha
lf of his body hanging over the edge of the slope. He reached low, taking hold of Verna’s arms. He pulled while Jordan pushed, and Verna struggled to climb with one leg stiff and the other enclosed in a brace that allowed little flexibility. When Verna was halfway up the embankment, Kyle beckoned to me with a jerk of his head, signaling for me to cross. He returned his attention to Verna and Jordan as I laid my gun on top of the weeds and bent to remove my shoes.
It happened without warning.
A brutal force from behind knocked into me, and I felt myself flailing over sideways. My body rolled across the ground from the impact, and my legs slid into the icy water. I gasped as my blood ran cold. The water wasn’t very deep at this spot, but I’d been knocked to my knees, and the force of the rushing current pushed me backward. I grabbed at the bank, groping for exposed roots to keep from being swept away. I panicked and heaved myself back onto the grass, without thinking.
Even before looking, the festering smell of decomposing flesh drifted into my nostrils, making me well aware of what had hit me, and the dangerous situation I was in. On the ground before me loomed the rotting, reanimated corpse of a woman. It had landed on all fours, just a few feet from where I crouched, and it now half-slithered, half-crawled toward me. Its horrible teeth gnashed, and its dead eyes stared me down, as it inched forward. Remnants of a rancid tongue ran along its lips, as if anticipating a meal, and there was something else that made my pulse pound hard in my ears, a bitter cold look of utter disdain.
In one wild instant, my brain marveled at the familiarity of its face. Had I seen this monster somewhere before? I shook off the thought and focused on what to do. Options flashed through my mind, and none of them looked good. I could stand and fight, or I could try to cross the creek. I’d make better speed on dry land, but maybe it wouldn’t follow me into the water. My gun lay useless in the grass, a few feet beyond my reach.
I jumped to my feet, ready to fight. Movement in my peripheral vision made me whip my head to the right. Another figure loomed in the shadows in the brush. It stepped into the light, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
There, ahead of me, was another female zombie. It, too, was hauntingly familiar, with a lone vivid pink strand of hair clinging to its scalp. But that couldn’t be… I felt the blood draining from my face as I stared in stupefied horror. Harley? It was impossible.
The other zombie crouched and sprang forward, knocking me once more onto the ground. It pinned me down with inhuman strength and sank its rotting teeth into my arm. My flesh tore away as I watched, sick with fear and revulsion, as it looked at me, chewed, and swallowed. It snapped at me again and again as I fought to keep it from eating me alive.
“Help me!” I screamed, all concern about making noise abandoned as I faced certain death. “Please! Kyle!”
The foul monster’s dank, musty breath fanned my neck, filling the air with the stench of the grave. This one was stronger than any I’d fought before. Its horrible eyes were wild with hatred. I pushed with all my strength against its chest, and its bones creaked and snapped under the pressure. My hand plunged into its midriff, spilling rotting entrails onto my stomach. It continued thrusting itself at me, its assault unabated. Foul, decayed teeth grimaced at me from its wide-open mouth as it readied to gorge.
The zombie in the distance darted toward us as I fought. I had no time to utter a prayer before it crashed into my attacker, forcing it off of my body. Were they going to fight over me?
I glanced back and forth between them as my mind raced in an attempt to plan an escape. The pink-haired beast just stood there, as if waiting for something. It glanced at me, and our eyes met. In that horrible instant, I stared at it, bewildered. Could this wretched thing really be my friend? Did it know who I was? “But, Harley, you’re dead…”
Shouting and a huge splash sounded out behind me, and Harley looked across the water before turning away. She scooped the other zombie up from the ground and slung her over one shoulder with practiced ease. Without another glance at me, she turned and ran into the brush with incredible speed and disappeared over the ridge.
I sat in stunned silence on the grass. As my pulse began to settle, I became aware of my wet clothes. My body quaked from the cold. Questions filled my mind, and I strained to make sense of what just happened. I believed, with little doubt, that it had been Harley, but she was dead. It couldn’t have been real. How could it have been? And what was going on with these two zombies? They were different. Stronger. I’d never seen a zombie move so fast as the one I thought could be Harley. No human I knew could move like that. It was unnatural, even for the undead.
I had to have been confused. I was in shock. That would make sense. I prayed to God that my mind was playing tricks on me because if that had been Harley, the implications were unthinkable. Had these things become resistant to death itself?
Whoever or whatever it was, one thing was clear. My fate was sealed. Already the bite wound burned like fire. It was undeniably real.
The splashing was right behind me now, and I felt a spray of cold water across my back as Kyle bolted onto the bank.
“Casey! You’re bleeding!” he choked. His head shifted back and forth, his eyes frantic with fear as he looked me over.
“It bit me,” I cried. “It came from out of nowhere. I didn’t hear it!” I looked into Kyle’s pale and shivering face. He moved closer. “Stay away!” I ordered, my voice trembling. A stream of blood ran from the gaping wound on my upper arm, and I knew there was no way I hadn’t been infected by the bite.
Kyle held up his hands. “Okay…stay calm, Casey,” he said, gasping for breath. “Get across the creek…Get the water between that zombie and us.” He inhaled deeply several times before continuing. “The water will slow it down. Verna and Jordan will cover us. There could be more of them out there.”
His words struck me hard. It seemed clear that Kyle hadn’t seen two zombies. Was I losing my mind?
“Come on, Casey. There’s no time to waste.” Kyle took my pack and gun and motioned for me to lead. He followed me into the creek, and we charged against the heavy current as we moved toward the opposite bank.
When I reached the other side, Jordan offered his hands to help me up, but I waved him off. “I’ve been bitten. You can’t touch me.” I scrambled up the muddy slope and tumbled onto the ground. My muscles quivered with exhaustion from the fight. Kyle followed me and dropped my pack and gun by my side.
Jordan looked at my arm and hurled rapid questions at me. “How in the hell did that happen? What are we gonna do?” He looked across the water toward the opposite side. “Where did it go? Jesus, are there more of them?”
“You didn’t see it?” I asked.
Jordan grasped his hair in anguish and shook his head. “I heard you scream, and by the time I got onto the bank and could look, all I saw was you and Kyle.”
Verna’s mouth had fallen open. She spoke in rapid bursts, blurting out words in an attempt to talk over Jordan. Her voice trembled with emotion. “Oh, my God! Casey!” she cried when she could get a full sentence in. “I didn’t see what happened either. I only saw Kyle running toward you. I just thought you fell and hurt something.” Her head snapped toward Kyle. “Where did it go? Did you kill it? Are there more of them?”
Verna and Jordan looked all around us, their eyes bulging with fear. Jordan picked up his rifle and handed another one to the nurse. They raised their weapons and pointed toward the brush as they readied to fire.
“It happened too fast,” Kyle answered, shaking his head. He kept his eyes fixed on me as he gulped in air and strained to catch his breath. He was still struggling to talk after having crossed the river three times. “I wasn’t…fast enough…Didn’t see any others…Heard Casey scream and had to get to her,” he explained, his gaze furious with concern. His hands shuddered as he ran his fingers through his hair and flicked off excess water. “I just saw…”
“What?” Verna asked, her voice edgy with impatience. “Saw what?”
She was squinting into the surrounding woods now, and seemed to be using the tip of her rifle to inspect the underbrush as she moved back and forth.
“Not sure,” Kyle continued. His shoulders heaved. He looked frustrated with his inability to communicate fast enough. “It was a blur.”
Bending over at the waist, Kyle exhaled before standing up and drawing in air through his mouth. He repeated this several times as Verna and Jordan paced up and down the bank. When his breathing steadied, Kyle continued. “I can’t be sure of what it was,” he said, his voice stronger, but still rough with concern. “Never have I seen a zombie move with that kind of speed. It wasn’t normal.”
Kyle moved toward me, and I jerked away, holding up my hand in warning. He stopped moving but remained focused on me as he continued. “I only saw the zombie out of the side of my eye, but it ran into the woods so fast that I couldn’t process what I saw. It looked different. Abnormal. More disfigured than other zombies.”
“How is that possible?” Jordan asked. “I mean, they’re about as unnatural as you can get already.”
“It was top-heavy, and it looked deformed, like it had a growth or a hunched back…or something.”
Apparently satisfied there were no more zombies in the area, Verna lowered her weapon and placed it on the ground. She looked in my direction and walked toward me. As she drew closer, she gasped. “Casey, let me examine your arm.”
“No,” I answered. “You don’t have any supplies here, not even gloves. It’s too risky.” I choked back tears. My friends’ safety was more important than mine now, and I knew what had to be done. They had to leave me, and I had to get as far away from them as possible.
“You’ve got to go without me,” I insisted. “Verna, take this money.” I pulled the bills I’d taken from the truck stop out of my pocket and shoved them at her, but she just stood there, unwilling to take the cash. I tossed them at her, forcing her to catch them.
“You’ve got to get out of the country and continue with our plan. You have to let others know what BioGenetics has done,” I said. “I don’t know who you can get to help, but you’ll find someone.”
The Viral Series (Book 2): Viral Storm Page 8