Green Ice: A Deadly High (32 page)

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Authors: Christian Fletcher

BOOK: Green Ice: A Deadly High
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“What’s he doing?” Leticia whispered.

“Ah, my god, the dude is smashed out of his mind,” Trey scoffed at the shuddering figure.

Mancini studied the guy in front of the car. “I don’t think so. I think he’s turning into…”

The guy suddenly stood rigid then shook wildly as if he was convulsing but still remained on his feet.

“Steer around him, Trey. Get the fuck out of here,” Mancini hissed, waving his hands in a forward motion.

“All right, man. Keep cool.” Trey rolled the steering wheel to the left.

T
he guy in front of them suddenly opened his mouth wide in a scowl, emitting a throaty growl. His eyes snapped open, revealing totally dark eyeballs and he slammed his right hand down hard on the hood.

“He’s one of those things,” Leticia screeched.

“Come on, Trey, get us out of here,” Mancini yelled.

Trey pumped the gas
, rolling the car slowly forward and tried to steer around the guy but the figure leaned further onto the hood, growling like an angry dog.

“Fuck it, stop the car,” Mancini instructed, tossing the map into the foot well. 

“What?” Trey gasped.

“Just stop the damn car, will you?”

Trey braked again, stopping the Thunderbird’s forward motion. Mancini hopped out, whipping the Heckler and Koch from the back of his waistband. He briskly strolled around the side of the car, aimed the barrel at the infected figure’s head and squeezed the trigger. A single shot echoed through the street and an orange flash briefly illuminated the scene.

The infected guy’s head jerked backwards and he went down on his back,
lying in a horizontal position to the front of the Thunderbird.

“Shit, man. What did you do?” Trey hissed. “There are cops all over the damn place and you go shooting the guy in the street.”

Mancini glanced up and down the side road. “There’s nobody around. The cops are too busy with their road block. Something is going down in this city and I don’t want to be caught in the center of it all.” He crouched down and grasped hold of the dead man’s wrists then dragged him to the side of the road. He rolled the body behind an abandoned car with all the windows smashed out. “Let’s roll,” he said, jumping back into the passenger seat.

Trey
hit the gas, keen to get away from the scene of execution.

“They obviously have an outbreak of the infection in the city,” Mancini said. “They
’re probably trying to contain it but have no idea how infectious this thing is.”

Trey followed a dog leg in the side street but was met by a myriad of flashing orange lights in the center of the road.

“Ah, crap. What the hell is this now?” Trey slowed the Thunderbird and saw a red colored road sign placed between the sets of flashing beacons. “
Alto! Policia – Camino Cerrado
,” he read aloud. “That means…uh…
Stop! Police
…”


Road Closed
,” Leticia finished for him. “We can’t go any further. We’ll have to turn back and take our chances through the road block.”

“We’re not going back and we’re not going through any road blocks,” Mancini growled, hauling
himself from the passenger seat. He glanced up and down the street. A few people hurried along in the shadows of the buildings beneath the sparsely positioned street lamps. Mancini moved towards the rows of flashing orange lights and black and white barriers. He shoved the barriers to one side, kicked over the stop sign and pulled over the light stands. “Can you fit through the gap?”

Trey nodded and rolled the Thunderbird forwards between the barriers. Mancini hopped back into the car and Trey accelerated away
down the street.

“No cops are around to stop us,” Mancini said. “They’re all probably tied up, trying to contain the outbreak. We won’t have long before the whole city is in lock down.”

Trey reached the corner of the side street and took the left turn onto another block. Mancini consulted the map once again and found their location.

“Keep going straight down this road as far as you can go, then take another left turn, which should bring us back out onto the highway beyond the main route through the city
.”

The buildings lining the road stood on several levels
and were higher than those on the previous side street but similarly as dark and gloomy. Piles of trash bags lined the sidewalks and sheets from discarded newspapers blew across the street on the night breeze.

Trey was limited to driving at a slow speed due to the poor light and the narrowness of the access
road. Mancini glanced along the deserted sidewalks, wondering how bad the outbreak was in the hub of the city. He half expected more complaints about the neighborhood from Jorge behind him but was pleasantly surprised by the unexpected silence.

Trey was forced to halt the Thunderbird once again
, due to a stationary Nissan car, parked at a horizontal angle across the street, stopping their progress.

“What the hell kind of parking is that, man,” Trey sighed
, flapping his hand at the immobile vehicle.

“Don’t be too hasty,” Mancini warned
, carefully studying the interior of the static Nissan. “And don’t honk that damn horn again.”

Trey and Mancini both
glanced over the Nissan for any sign of movement inside. The lights were turned off and all the doors remained closed.

“There’s nobody in that car, what do we do, man?”

Mancini turned his head and looked at the road behind them, then scoured the immediate urban vicinity.

“There’s nobody around. Let’s see if we can shove that piece of shit out of our way.”

Mancini cautiously exited the Thunderbird, holding his handgun low to his side. Trey followed him out of the car and they both slowly made their way to the immobile Nissan. Mancini leaned forward and peered through the driver’s side window, cupping his hands over the glass to shade the glare of the Thunderbird’s remaining headlamp. He saw the car interior was heavily blood stained, with crimson pools on the two front seats and smears across the central console.

“Looks like somebody had a real mash up in there,” Mancini muttered. He tried the driver’s door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He checked the ignition but no keys hung from the slot. “All right, at least we can push this damn thing out the way.”

Trey tried the front passenger door and opened it up. “Smells kind of funky in there, man,” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a stiff in the trunk.”

“As long as it’s not coming after us, I don’t give a crap,” Mancini said
, tucking his firearm into his waistband. “Come on, let’s push this piece of filth out of our way.” He reached inside the interior with his foot and released the park brake, carefully avoiding the blood spatters.

Mancini turned the steering wheel to the right as far as it would go before the steering lock engaged. Trey shoved from the opposite side, gripping his hands against the column to the right of the windshield.

“Fuck, this thing is heavy,” Trey grunted, exerting himself with the pushing.

Mancini shoved the car forward from his side and it began to roll forward slightly.
He glanced back to the idling Thunderbird.

“Feel free to give us a hand anytime, Jorge,” he barked.

Jorge nodded and clambered out of his seat. He slowly made his way to the Nissan.

“I figured you two were doing okay without me,” he said, shrugging.

A sudden patter of heavy footfalls caused all three men to turn to the source of the noise. They ceased pushing the Nissan, more concerned with the approaching footsteps. 

“Somebody’s coming this way,” Trey muttered.
“Through that alleyway.” He pointed to a narrow walkway to the left of the street.

“Sounds like they’re in one hell of a hurry,” Mancini said, drawing his Heckler and Koch.

A long shadow spread across the sidewalk, beneath the dim illumination of an overhanging street lamp. The shadow perfectly mirrored a running figure, with their arms and legs furiously pumping back and forth.

A terrified looking man appeared from the alley, running at full pelt. The guy was young, probably in his early twenties and his long, dark frizzy hair flopped from side to side as he ran. His eyes bulged wide in fear and he breathed in wheezing gasps. 

Mancini hunched and raised his handgun, his arms resting on the Nissan roof, aiming at the approaching figure.

The young guy navigated his way around a toppled trash can, nearly slipping in the process
but carried on moving at speed by the side of the Nissan. He muttered something as he ran by Trey’s side of the car and kept going into another alley on the opposite side of the street.

“What did he say?” Mancini asked, lowering his firearm.

“I don’t know, man,” Trey said, shrugging. “I didn’t catch it. I thought he said something about his hair.”

“He said
huir ahora
!” Jorge rasped. “It means
run away now
!” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Eight

 

Mancini, Trey and Jorge glanced back towards the alley
situated to their left. They heard more slapping footfalls and saw a cluster of shadows dancing against the walls either side of the alley and across the sidewalk.

“Shit, looks like a whole mob is heading our way,” Trey hissed.

Mancini glanced back to the Nissan and the small gap they’d created between the vehicle and the narrow sidewalk. Trey guessed what he was thinking.

“Forget it, man. We’ll never fit through there,” he sighed.
“The street lamp will still block our way through.”

Snarls, shrieks and moans echoed from the alley. The shadows grew larger and the noise of once human creatures increased in volume
with every second that ticked by.

Mancini swiveled his head back to the Thunderbird
, then at Trey. “Okay, get Leticia and get the car keys and then we move, right?”

Trey nodded. An anxious expression engulfed his face
as he sprinted back to the Thunderbird. Mancini knew how futile the situation would be if they tried to stand and fight off the approaching mob with only two handguns. They didn’t have time to turn the car around and heading back on themselves would only lead to the police road block. He kept his eyes on the alley and heard the Thunderbird engine peter out. Trey returned, dragging a worried looking Leticia by her hand.

“Okay, I got the keys, man,” Trey said. “I sincerely hope my ride doesn’t get looted while we’re away.”

“Let’s move,” Mancini instructed, jerking his head to their right. The others followed in a hurried jog. “We’ll scoot through that alleyway opposite and try to double back. Hopefully, we can lose that mob around the next block.”

Mancini glanced behind him when they reached the mouth of the opposite alleyway. He saw a bunch of growling, snarling figures clawing the air as they spilled out onto the street.
Mancini estimated the whole mob was around thirty in number. Some of the infected leapt on the hood of the Nissan and ran across its roof before jumping down the other side. The leaders of the infected pack sniffed the air and seemed to catch the scent of Mancini and the others. The first three figures sprinted across the street and the remaining horde followed towards the second alleyway.

“We need to move faster,” Mancini hissed. “They’re right on our tail.”
He placed a hand on each of Jorge and Leticia’s backs and tried to hurry them forward.

Trey led from the front but the alley was almost totally dark and he couldn’t see where they were head
ing. He nearly ran straight into a block wall as the passageway doglegged to their right.

“I can’t see shit,” Trey hissed in protest.

“Just keep going,” Mancini growled, glancing over his shoulder.

Shrieks and
howls echoed around the block walls from somewhere behind them.

“It sounds like the hounds of hell have come to eat us alive,” Jorge stammered, almost turning around.

“Quit bellyaching and keep moving, Jorge,” Mancini grunted, shoving Jorge forwards. He was worried at how far they’d moved through the alley and realized how easy it was to lose their bearings in the darkness.

“I wish we had a damn flashlight,” Trey muttered.

“The light would only help give away our position,” Mancini snapped.

Trey wailed in terror when a figure stepped out of a doorway, recessed in the side of the alley wall.

“What the fuck, man?” he gasped, stopping in his tracks.

Mancini fumbled for his Zippo lighter and lit the flame. An old guy, probably in his late sixties
, with a saggy face and wispy white hair stood in the doorway glaring in their direction.

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