Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3) (3 page)

Heat flooded my face.
The cover of darkness saved the evidence of my physical embarrassment, but Brian could hear everything I projected. The whole thing was a flipping mess. How would I ever get free of them? It was almost worth the idea of asking Dominic to bite their asses again, just to get my head back to its original ownership.

Brian harrumphed in the corner.

On the opposite side of the brick building, a section for picnicking caught the light when I careened around the edge of the restroom. The position would give me an advantage. He’d have to find me when he pulled into the exit. Every second counted.

Brian didn’t wait for my command. He jumped down, slamming the door behind him.

In the dark, tree-shrouded bench area, I slammed on the brakes and twisted off the headlights. Nothing in the truck had value for me. I shut off the engine and popped the hood. Scrambling from my seat, I closed the door to keep the light off in the cab. The hood took some muscle to push up. Light shined from the top like a beacon. Of course, I would get the truck with a stupid under-the-hood light. Damn. I had to hurry even faster. Dominic didn’t need help finding me any more than I needed to eat a donut.

The fuel pump relay should be right… there. I jerked the large fuse-like device from its position and slammed the hood.
Silence crowded out my heavy breathing and the fierce pounding of my heart. Sharp corners of the fuse reminded me I was alive… at least for the moment.

But holding on to the damn thing wouldn’t help me in any way. I tossed the rectangle over my shoulder, a small click and rattle as it fell on the pavement. I’d be pissed if Dominic found it.

If I was smart, I’d run and never look back. Dealing with Dominic was never a good idea. Never. The last time he surprised me was by turning my brother into a zombie for crying out loud!

The faint rumble of an engine
just past the bathrooms pushed me around the side of my truck. But I stopped. I couldn’t run from him. I needed his truck. A hand anchored me to my vehicle instead of letting me run like a bat out of hell into the woods.

I could breathe, if I really tried.

The metal cooled under my fingers. For the briefest moment, I had a connection with the truck. I was used, sucked dry, fading, running from each refueling to the next. But this time, I would force myself to run on empty until I found something safe to eat. Safe, meaning not human.

Noises not natural to the forest whispered across the pavement, underneath the rumblings of Dominic’s diesel truck. Large creatures sniffed and sought meat in the dark.
Zombies. I couldn’t picture them, but the sounds were familiar. They could smell a change in the air. Even I could smell the newness Brian and I had brought.

The bastard
, Dominic, rounded the building in his truck and I shivered. I hated him. I really did.

But Dominic
got
me. For some strange-ass reason, the bastard understood me. I did crave the freedom to run rampant through the streets, tearing the flesh from hot ass girls. While a part of me got that it was the virus changing my most basic desires, another part of me wanted to leave my logical side behind and welcome the growing craziness in my nerves. Dominic got that. He understood it. And, hell, he was exploiting the shit out of it.

I wipe
d at the sweat on my upper lip. The faint scent of oil lingered on my palms. If I touched him, or got too close, he’d suspect I’d been tampering with the engine.

His lights lit me up as I reached the back of
my truck. I shielded my eyes and pretended to stumble. Catching myself on the ground with my hands outstretched, I made sure to wipe them on the dirt and gravel. Standing, I rubbed them together as if dusting them off. He couldn’t miss the dirt darkening or the faint red marks where the gravel had bit into my pale skin.

He drew
up behind the truck I had parked. I didn’t touch the back door of my rig. If his zombies thawed too fast, Dominic would have an army ready to do his bidding, with or without food. As it was, we were just about evenly matched. I’d never considered if I could take Dominic. He’d always seemed too old. Now with the virus running through both of us, our physical power had exponentially increased. I just didn’t know how much his strength had been affected and how much constant human food had helped him.

He cut the engine.

I watched closely as he slid down from the cab. He would have to be Superman to pull off some sort of truck killing move, like I had. Hell, I wasn’t Superman, but the idea was nice.

The lights dimmed as the
truck switched power sources to the battery. Dominic’s shadow didn’t reassure me. He couldn’t do anything to the truck, but he didn’t approach me right away either.

“
Paul? Where’s Brian?” He sidled closer, his arms tucked to his sides.

“He didn’t want to see you.” I scratched my ear to show
my hands were empty, maybe calm him down. I lifted my chin. “Can you blame him?”

Dominic shrugged and crossed his arms. He walked toward me, stopping near the front bumper. Raising a hand, he knocked on the metal
door. The double bang piggy-backed into an echo. “I wonder how long it will take for them to thaw. Hmmm.” He eyed me, a smirk edging out suspicion for Brian. “Do you think they’ll be ready when I reach Sandpoint?”

I bit my tongue. Hell, the things I wanted to say.
And do.
I wouldn’t eat him, no, that’s just gross. But I could tear him apart, piece by piece, and let the unruly zombies have him. The snuffles and grunts grew louder. They’d reach him before they’d reach me. But how long until they found Heather?

“Is it ready?” I stepped toward
my new truck. No sounds came from the back of the stolen U-Haul. He wanted to take a girl. I didn’t know how long Heather, James, and Brian could hold off the feeders searching through the woods. “Did you still want a girl?”

Dominic crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’ll take a girl.” He leaned on the truck. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me? It’s only a matter of time until I have the cure.”
He looked me up and down. Something sinister in his gaze gave me the creepy-crawlies like spiders on my skin.

I clenched my jaw. “Time you know I don’t have.” Insensitive jerk-off. “Let’s get this over with.” I spun on my heel and stomped be
side the new truck. His sauntering step followed.

But I stopped, holding up my hand. A
scratch, scratch, scratch
had beaten me to the back. I suctioned myself to the side of the truck and glanced at Dominic. He held his hands out at waist level and froze, leaning his head forward like the few centimeters his jaw jutted out in front of him would give him the hearing edge he needed.

Multiple scratches turned to screeches like metal on glass. Moans filled the air.
The wild zombies tried opening the truck like a sardine can to get at the girls.

Nothing was keeping me there. I grabbed the driver’s side door handle. Movement across the front seat
startled me. I looked into the thick-film covered eyes of one like me. The gray of his skin had sunk deep into the shadows of his features. Not like me. At least not for a couple more days.

I crouched down and turned toward Dominic. I offered the smallest shake of my head. He moved beside me and lowered to all fours. I didn’t move. He held up five fingers, snapped his hand closed, and then held up three more. Eight. There
were eight rabid monsters. And only the two of us. Not that we were on the same team, but survival had thrust us together. Again. Survival sucked.

T
he spring-loaded door opened with a pop. Well, if nothing else, U-Haul’s new slogan could be “so easy to open, a starving zombie could do it”. The moans rose an octave, maybe two. And then the screams started mixed with smacking and tearing, thuds and bumps. A bloodied hand clenched the side of the truck, the fingers petite and pale. Matted and clumped hair poked around the corner. A woman clung to the truck and dangled with her feet on the edge of the bumper as if she were about to jump the three feet to the ground.

A large arm shot behind her and clutched her by her hair, dragging her back into the carnage.

My stomach roiled, while my mouth watered.

Dominic wasn’t getting his choice of anything. And I wasn’t sticking around to
see more of the massacre.

The zombie in the cab banged on the window a few feet above my head. The shock reminded me of a starter’s gun at a track meet. I bolted. My open sprint carried me out of the circle
of light by the trucks. I hadn’t noticed it before, but a full moon offered more than enough light to see by.

I rushed past the disabled truck. Dominic could try to salvage it, or hide in it. I didn’t really care.

The dark wasn’t as complete as I’d assumed. The pavement had just a tinge darker shade of gray than the cement curbing and sidewalk areas. I followed the tightening funnel to the exit.

S
creams behind me reached a crescendo and then one by one silenced. The oddest sensation like I listened to a soundtrack of people falling and hitting the ground washed over me. If I turned around, I’d be in a movie theatre, watching a sick horror flick. I’d never been a fan of the occult. I was a Bruce Willis/Vin Diesel kind of guy.

My feet pummeled the ground. Gasps, more from desperation to escape than exertion, filled my ears. But then, the engine of my truck turned over. I pumped my arms faster.
And faster.

A minute, that’s what I needed. But I got mere seconds. The engine turned over, chugged, chugged, and then cut. I closed my eyes for the barest second, but opened them rather than bite the gravel – literally.
I hit the curve, still running.

Dominic r
atcheted the starter, once, twice, hell, a third time. I almost made it to the trees when his bellow of rage silenced the ravaging moans and eating sounds. It sounded like my name. Oh, damn. He’d add revenge to his list on me, if he made it out alive.

“Paul!” James’s whisper might as well have been a shout.

I stopped, just past the point where Dominic would be able to see me in the moonlight. But I couldn’t see James. The bushes weren’t that thick. Tree boughs didn’t reach all the way to the ground. “Where are you?” I looked back toward the trucks. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

“Catch Heather.” James’s voice came from above.
They’d hidden in the trees. Smart asses.

Before I could fully prepare myself, I caught Heather
with a slight grunt. Well, I wasn’t ready and she fell like forty feet – okay, only like ten, but it could have been forty.

I couldn’t see her expression under the cover of the trees. But her nod and quiet thank you boiled inside me. The comfort of her weight in my arms would definitely be easy to get used to. She was safe, if only for a second, but in my arms and safe. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Unless it included a way out.

But we didn’t have the time
for me to consider all the ways I was grateful to have her in my arms.

Thump. Thump
. James and Brian fell down beside us. Brian watched over my shoulder. “Where are we going? Our truck is back there.”

I let Heather slide down my body to stand. Hell yeah, I did. A moment like that needed to be taken advantage of. Who knew if I’d get another chance to have her body against mine. I may have only two days left, but I was still a teenage
guy with, shall we say, urges?

“Enough of your cravings, Paul. Stop.” James slugged my shoulder. “What do we do?”

“Let’s hit the highway.” I ignored his remark. They would already know I struggled with going back to the truck and scrounging for any leftover meat. The coppery smell of the blood had chased me as thoroughly as Dominic did. “It won’t be long before they smell Heather. Let’s not be around for that.”

We followed the
exit to the empty highway. Not one car was in sight which meant not one person was in sight. But that didn’t excuse the relief flooding me. I don’t know if I could handle the temptation of another human. I worked on not thinking too hard about it, but the temperature, which hadn’t bothered me before was cooling off and my toes had begun tingling. Thank goodness for the dark night.

But damn, Heather smelled good. In more ways than one.

We quit running. Not one of us had stopped looking behind us. Heather panted beside me. “I can’t keep up this pace. I’m not a runner, you know?” She leaned over, propping her hands above her knees.

I smothered the urge to reach out and smooth the gap in her hair where Brian had chopped a large chunk away in an attempt to dissuade me
and James from following them south. Brian and James had halted beside me. I looked at Brian and pointed at Heather’s hair, thinking as hard as I could, “
Why the hell did you cut her damn hair?”

He
held up his previously injured hand. With the virus, it was healed. All better. I glared at him. Heather’s hair wasn’t alright. And her psyche wouldn’t be better either.

He ignored me. Okay, I’d beat the answer from him, if I could
make it back to Sandpoint in one piece.