The Last Outbreak- The Complete Box Set

by Jeff Olah

  They were off the sidewalk and running before most in the crowd had noticed. Tom led the way and only looked back once. A few that flanked the left side had begun stumbling away from the others and now started toward the intersection. Their awkward movements and guttural groans quickly began drawing the attention of others.

  Out of the shadows of the building they’d run away from, Emma released Tom’s hand, squinting through the late afternoon sun as she ran. She crossed the intersection a single stride ahead of him and drifted right attempting to see what they were running toward.

  Rounding the corner and going wide as she passed a brown and gold delivery truck sitting sideways in the middle of the street, Emma nearly lost her footing. She tried to slow herself and cut to the right, but it was too late. She was moving much too fast to avoid the collision and instinctively closed her eyes as she slammed into the massive Feeder.

  Outweighed by at least a hundred pounds, Emma took the worst of it. She was thrown awkwardly into the street and slid violently onto her right side. Her momentum carried her backward as the side of her head skipped off the unforgiving asphalt.

  It was all happening too fast. Less than twenty-four hours earlier she believed that there was still a place for her in this world, that with Tom and the others she could make a life out of what remained. Now, her only thought was how quickly this would all end.

  Inside her head she screamed. She told herself to fight, to get up, to do something … anything. But as the angry beast moved in over her, the world around began to close. She could hear Tom. He was shouting; however, his words were only whispers as she felt herself being dragged away.

  “Emma … oh God, Emma.”

  144

  With the SUV loaded and Frank behind the wheel, the group sat at the end of the driveway and looked out over South Las Vegas Boulevard. From the passenger seat, Griffin unfolded the map and held it out in front of the windshield so that the others would be able to see what he was contemplating.

  “Two ways we could go about doing this,” Griffin said. “And neither are going to be very fun.”

  Frank looked left and then right, only partially paying attention to what Griffin was saying. He lowered his window, closed his eyes, and appeared to be sniffing at the cool evening air. He rubbed his hands over the two-week growth that had begun to overtake his chin and then twisted back toward the others. “We’re gonna get rain, probably before nightfall. We need to get to Ethan soon; desert storms are serious business.”

  From the back row, seated alongside Carly, Ben smiled and shook his head.

  “I’ve heard of it smelling like rain once it’s already rained, but how do you know—”

  Seated directly behind Griffin, Helen laughed. “We old folks know a thing or two about the weather. And he’s right, my hip has been killing me since this morning.”

  Ben turned to Carly. “You buying this?”

  She didn’t respond. She had been staring out the window since finding her seat in the third row and hadn’t spoken more than a handful of times since learning that Ethan had run off.

  “Carly?”

  She finally turned away from the window and faced the others. Her face carried the weight of the previous two weeks as she attempted an uncertain smile. “What are they?” She asked, now looking at Griffin. “What are the two ways we do this?”

  The interior of the idling vehicle fell into silence. The group waited as Griffin again held the map out over the dashboard. With Frank holding the opposite end, Griffin pointed to the south end of town where Las Vegas bled back into the desert.

  “I’m assuming Ethan would have tried to get to here on foot. There wouldn’t be much point in trying to drive through the mess near the airport. He’d look for a car he could take on the other side of Sunset Road. But either way, he needs to get back to the interstate. That’s the only way out of here.”

  “So?” Carly said. “What’s your plan?”

  Handing off the map to Frank, Griffin pointed out through the windshield. “We only have a few hours before the sun goes down and not enough time to search the entire city. I think we should get back to the interstate as soon we can and find a safe spot to wait, make sure we didn’t pass him.”

  Shannon sat forward from the second row. “Pass him, how would we end up passing him?”

  Frank laid the map on the dashboard and turned back to the others. “Griffin’s right. We have no idea where Ethan is; he could still be here in town. If we get to the interstate and we’re out ahead, we may never find him.”

  “We are going to find him.” Shannon’s voice shook. She was nearly in tears. “I don’t care what we have to—”

  Frank saw the emotion in her face and felt it in her words. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that we need to be smart about this. We will find him, but he could be just about anywhere, and I want to be sure that we aren’t so impatient that we miss something.”

  Helen placed her hand on Shannon’s shoulder. “We aren’t leaving without him … isn’t that right, Frank?”

  He wasn’t completely used to this new existence. Frank had spent the first several days, what he assumed were the most challenging of the outbreak, locked alone inside a cell back in Summer Mill. Since then, he had to watch not only the infected tear the world apart, but also the living. And as of this very moment, he still wasn’t sure who he feared more.

  Ethan was like a son to him and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to find him, but he also didn’t like their odds. Even if they knew Ethan’s exact route, there were too many variables that could derail their plan. He’d do what needed to be done and tell the others what they needed to hear, but Frank was going to be honest with himself. It might be the only thing to keep him and his friends alive.

  “No, we aren’t leaving without Ethan, we’re going to find him and then we’re going to the coast … all of us.”

  Frank then shifted in his seat. He turned back so that he was completely facing the others and paused a moment. “But,” he said, “we’re going to do it right this time.”

  Griffin furrowed his brow, looking around the interior. “Do what right?”

  “Okay, maybe that didn’t come out exactly how I wanted, but we’ve already got the task of finding Ethan, and I just think that we need to set some rules for how we’re going about this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well for starters, no one goes anywhere alone. And also, no heroic stuff. We stay together and watch each other’s backs.”

  Griffin nodded. “Goes without saying.”

  Frank now looked directly at Ben. “When we find Ethan, we stay inside the vehicle until we know it’s safe to get out. There is absolutely no reason that anyone else needs to get hurt. We play it smart from here on out. We all okay with that?”

  One by one, they nodded in agreement.

  Frank continued, “Griffin, is there a chance we could go around the airport on the east side? The Strip is a war zone down at the end, but if Ethan hasn’t made it to the interstate we might run into him there.”

  “Wait,” Carly said. “Griffin said we had two options, what’s the other one?”

  Frank shook his head. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “We split up,” Griffin said. “A few of you stay with Frank and start heading toward the coast and rest of us find another car and comb through some of the streets for the next few hours. Once it gets dark we all meet up at the state line.”

  “You’re right,” Helen said. “I don’t like it. There are too many things that could go wrong. Right now, we just need to find Ethan. If we split up, who knows if we’ll find each other again. Let’s just take the long way around the airport and try the interstate before it gets too dark.”

  Frank sat quiet as the others deliberated. He knew what their answer would be even before Griffin offered a second option. Splitting up would be a mistake, and even if they were able to reunite at the state line, he was concerned that he may
never see Ethan again.

  “So,” he said, “we might as well get going. There isn’t much daylight left.”

  Griffin sat forward, pulled a nine-millimeter pistol from the glove box, and laid it across his lap. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, moving it out of his face, and then looked back at Frank out of the corner of his eye. “You ready for this?”

  Frank slowly drove out onto Las Vegas Boulevard, turned right, and stared out into the fading daylight. “Yeah, I think so … are you?”

  145

  The kid continued running along the side of the home, his feet barely touching the concrete path as he moved away. He’d been here before. Maybe it was his house, maybe his friends’. Possibly a neighbor, but definitely somewhere he’d been before today. It was obvious, he was familiar and confident enough to continue into the backyard even as Ethan stopped at the gate to make sure it was locked.

  But why? Ethan’s mind was now racing. Why had he been so insistent on leading him away from the driveway and into the rear yard? Well, other than the massive crowd of Feeders that had gathered at the inlet to the cul-de-sac.

  Something about the way the kid ran to this house just didn’t add up. The way he pushed open the gate without checking it first, and how he seemed to already know that there wasn’t a threat waiting on the other side. Ethan was convinced it wasn’t purely luck. The kid had somehow managed to survive for the past two weeks in this new world, and no amount of luck could have been responsible for that.

  Assured that the latch was in place, Ethan hesitantly jogged along the side of the home and went wide as he reached the rear yard. Quickly scanning the patio and the above ground pool further on, he spotted the young boy standing near a stack of milk crates that were pushed into the rear wall.

  Hidden up to his chest, the boy waved Ethan over. He pointed at the wall and then climbed up onto the crates. He moved with a gracefulness that again told Ethan this wasn’t the boy’s first time traveling this route. He turned to check the gate one last time and then jogged across the damp grass.

  The boy climbed atop the six-foot block wall at the rear of the yard, swung both legs over and prepared to jump.

  “Wait!” Ethan said. “Where are you going?”

  The boy turned back toward Ethan, his face now twisted with confusion. He pointed out toward the area beyond the wall and nodded. And when Ethan returned the same confused look, the boy breathed out heavily and said, “We go.”

  “Where … where are you going?”

  The boy shook his head and again just pointed out beyond the wall.

  “Isn’t this your home?”

  The boy just continued to point.

  Ethan looked toward the sky. He estimated that in the next few hours he’d be at the mercy of the cold desert night. This wasn’t part of his plan, but he also wasn’t the kind of man who could just walk away. He wasn’t built like that, no matter the consequences.

  Ethan stepped closer and placed his foot on the plastic crate. “What’s your name kid?”

  The boy looked at the baseball glove that was strapped to his backpack, forced a shy grin, and then looked away.

  Ethan studied the pack and given the boy’s obvious hesitancy, slowly reached his hand out toward the glove.

  “Can I have a look at it?”

  Without turning, the boy nodded. He swung his legs nervously, kicking his heels against the opposite side of the wall as he watched Ethan out of the corner of his eye.

  “Looks like the glove I had when I was your age, but I bet you’re a much better ballplayer than I was.”

  The boy’s grin widened.

  Ethan held the glove in his hand, turning it as he leaned to the left and attempted to make eye contact with the boy. “You play little league?”

  The boy’s face changed. His eyes dropped and the half smile he wore rapidly disappeared. Nodding slowly, he said, “Yeah.”

  Ethan turned the glove over. His assumption was confirmed as the faded leather along the index and middle finger bore the child’s name.

  “Zach Hunter?” Ethan turned up the excitement in his voice. “That has got to be the coolest name I have ever heard.”

  The boy continued to look away, although his slight smile began to return and Ethan took the opportunity to try and build some momentum.

  “Zach, my name is Ethan.” He looked over his shoulder and then back out into the street. “So tell me … does the kid with the coolest name in the world live around here?”

  Finally turning back to Ethan, the boy shook his head. “No, we came from Kingman.”

  Again with an excited tone, Ethan said, “Zach, are you serious … Arizona? That’s awesome.”

  “Yep.”

  “Where’s your family … your Mom … your Dad?”

  The pained look that raced across Zach’s face answered Ethan’s question even before the young boy shook his head. He didn’t need the details, he already knew what this new world was capable of, yet somehow this kid had survived. For now, he just needed to focus on what he was going to do to keep the two of them alive.

  “Is there anyone else, any other friends or relatives that might be looking for you … or are you out here all by yourself?”

  “My sister,” Zach said, his head now buried in his chest. “She died yesterday.”

  Ethan’s heart dropped as the young boy wiped his eyes and then his nose. He still hadn’t gotten used to the relentless loss of life that had come with this new existence, but this was different. Even though he’d never met this boy or his family, the pain tearing through his chest told him that there was something from his previous life that still remained, an emotion he wasn’t sure he still possessed. It was something that he needed to share with his new friend.

  “I’m so sorry Zach, but you know … it’s okay. It’s alright to feel sad.”

  The boy didn’t respond.

  Ethan rested his hand on Zach’s shoulder, and as the realization of what lay ahead came rushing in, he stepped up onto the crate and helped the boy climb down the other side. From behind, the sound of the horde finally overpowering the side gate pushed them forward.

  “Okay Zach, where were you going? What’s over this wall?”

  Zach pulled tight the straps of his backpack, raked the sleeve of his shirt across his nose, and pointed toward the eerily empty four lane street.

  “My hiding place.”

  “Okay, let’s go buddy. I wanna put some space between us and them.”

  Zach stared up at him, his cheeks red and his eyes still a bit glassy. “The monsters?”

  From the perspective of a child, those things were monsters, in every single sense of the word. They attacked without provocation, came out of nowhere, preyed on the most vulnerable, and were absolutely relentless. There was no way around it, the kid was right.

  “Monsters?” Ethan said. “Yeah, those things are monsters.”

  The boy reached for Ethan’s hand and pulled him off the sidewalk. Stepping into the street, Zach looked both ways and just as quickly, released Ethan’s hand and said, “Follow me.”

  146

  Tom was out of breath and his arms were threatening to give up. Using his forearm to wipe away the mixture of warm blood and sticky perspiration that now covered every square inch of his face, everything inside him said that it was okay to stop. That nothing would be gained from him continuing to pummel the lifeless corpse.

  But he couldn’t stop.

  He raised the three-foot section of pipe above his head once again and swung on the beast that lay motionless at his feet. His hands vibrated as the pipe smashed through the massive Feeder’s skull and contacted the asphalt below. The shockwave tore up through his arms and shook his shoulders in their sockets.

  He stepped back to allow the sensation to pass, then tossed the metal pipe aside and walked the short distance to the sidewalk. He’d laid her here less than sixty seconds before, and as the crowds realized he wasn’t alone on this side of the street
, they changed their focus.

  Kneeling at her side, Tom cradled her head in the bend of his elbow. He placed one arm under her back and the other under her legs. Leaning back into the brick façade, Tom lifted her away from the pavement and started walking away from the approaching horde.

  His lead on those in pursuit was less than he was comfortable with; however, he was thankful for Emma’s petite stature. At just over five feet tall and weighing not much more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, he couldn’t have done this for anyone else, and at this point he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to do it for her.

  She wasn’t completely unconscious, but she also wasn’t nearly coherent enough to stand. And with the route they still needed to travel, she’d not only have to stand, but may also have to run. Even if Tom were able to outpace the crowd coming from behind, there was no telling what he’d run into once he reached the other building. Silently he prayed for just one thing to go their way, even the slightest bit of luck to happen across their path.

  Continuing forward along the sidewalk, he sidestepped an overturned trashcan and noticed a thin trail of blood running from Emma’s nose. It wasn’t enough to cause him concern—he’d seen much worse in the last thirteen days—but as the rise and fall of her chest began to slow, he was losing confidence in their chances.

  “Emma!”

  Her eyes fluttered, but it wasn’t the sign he was looking for.

  “Come on Emma, wake up.”

  The sides of her mouth fell, her lips now forming a straight line.

  His legs were growing heavy and he could feel his pulse throbbing in his neck. The sweat along his forehead ran down over his brow and into his eyes. He blew upward from the corners of his mouth, attempting to clear his vision as the next intersection came into view.

  Pacific Avenue looked clear from his current vantage, although the leading corner was blocked by two cement trucks that had been purposely backed into one another. He didn’t remember them being at this location on his last trip through this part of town, although the trucks looked vaguely familiar.