The Zombie Virus (Book 1) (12 page)

At this range I was placing the reticle of
the scope on one head after another, dropping in their tracks when
the bullets tore through their brains. There were just too damn
many of them. I backed up, changing mags as they reached the other
side of the car. My back came up against the cold steel of another
vehicle.

The infected scrambled over and around the
car to get to me, a savage wildness alive in their bloodshot eyes.
I began shooting indiscriminately. They were nearly on me, clawed
hands reaching for me. I slammed one with the butt of the rifle and
shot it in the face. Three more moved in to take its place just as
the rifle’s bolt locked open. There was no time for a mag change. I
reached down for my pistol even though I knew they would be on me
before my hand could touch it.

I heard three close consecutive shots and the
three Loonies dropped lifeless at my feet. I looked over and Holly
was there not twenty feet away with the smoking rifle pointed at
the lifeless forms on the ground.

There were no more of the infected in our
immediate vicinity. I thumbed the magazine release and slammed a
new mag in place.

“Thank you, that was too close!” I said
breathlessly. Holly was terrified, although she was holding it
together admirably.

“I didn’t have as many come at me,” she said.
“I didn’t think I would get to you in time!” She ran to me and
hugged me tight.

I let my rifle fall to my side and hugged her
back. “You saved my bacon, hon.” I kissed her and turned my
attention back to the situation. The ground around us and leading
to the building was littered with the infected, most dead but a few
were still alive, crawling toward us despite their horrible gunshot
wounds.

I headed toward the building with my wife
close behind. The sound of fighting from deep inside reached our
ears as we got closer. I unholstered my .45 and coldly put a round
in the head of a Loony who hungrily reached for me when I walked
by. I dispatched two more before I arrived at the breached entrance
of the building.

“Stay here,” I said to Holly and pointed to
some Loonies running up the street at us. “Keep them away. I won’t
be long”

CHAPTER 8

I entered the dark, musty-smelling building and
spotted where dusty tracks and blood smears led to the rear.
Several of the infected lay dead on the floor, their skulls caved
in. The sounds of a scuffle reached me from the back along with the
growls of the infected. With my Para still in my hand I ran across
the old wooden floor. Someone had barricaded themselves in a back
room and four Loonies were trying to force the door, growling
viciously. I quietly crept up behind them with my pistol raised,
pressed it to the back of the head of one of the four and pulled
the trigger. I shot another before the other two could turn
around.

I backed up to give myself room when they
lunged at me, pulling the trigger two more times. Gore splattered
the wall behind them and they dropped like rag dolls to the
ground.

“Who’s out there?” a deep voice called out
from the other side of the door.

“Another survivor like yourself,” I
answered.

A rapid pop pop pop pop from out front told
me that my wife was engaging more of those things.

“It’s safe to come out, but we need to get
out of here now!” I called urgently. I holstered the pistol and
re-acquired my rifle. I heard stuff being moved on the other side,
and then the door slowly opened.

A bear of a man stood in the doorway. He was
easily six-five and probably 320 pounds, most of it muscle. He had
the blood covered remains of a pump action shotgun that he had been
using as a bludgeon in his meaty right paw. He wore ragged blue
jeans and a sleeveless tee shirt, his tree trunk arms sleeved in
tattoos. A scruffy beard covered the front of his wide face and
matched the long, scraggly brown hair on his head. He really did
look like a bear.

His nose was crooked from too many bar
fights; his green eyes held both kindness and gratitude when they
fixed on me. He took a few cautious steps into the main room,
looking around at the carnage. It was only then that I noticed more
movement behind him: two women timidly hiding behind his reassuring
bulk. He dropped the disabled shotgun and approached me.

“We would have been goners if you hadn’t
saved our asses.” He offered me one of his huge hands. “Frank,” he
said, introducing himself.

I ignored the blood splattered hand.

“That’s Amanda,” he said, nodding to the
pretty young blonde who came out behind him. “And that’s Kera,” he
said, indicating the equally young and pretty dark haired girl
beside Amanda. They were both dressed for a hot summer day at a
park, not a fight for their lives. Both girls were athletically
slim, with long tanned legs that would cause boys to do a double
take whenever they walk by.

Outside, Holly fired two more shots.

“I’m Steven,” I replied. “Are any of you
bit?”

“No,” Frank answered for everyone, and the
girls shook their heads in agreement.

“I’m not trying to be rude by not shaking
your hand,” I said. “But it’s pretty messy.”

Frank looked at his hands sheepishly.

“How many y’all got in your group?” Kera
asked with a slight southern drawl.

“Just three.” I turned and started back
toward the front. “Come on, we need to go.”

I ran back the way I came and out the door,
followed closely by the other survivors. We were met by the bright
sunshine and midday heat. Holly had her back to us and was
partially concealed behind a brick pillar with her AR aimed down
the road. There were no Loonies moving within sight.

“I dropped a handful of them,” she stated,
turning and taking in the three standing behind me. “I haven’t seen
any more yet.”

“Holly, this is Frank, Kera and Amanda.” I
could tell Holly was in awe of the big blood spattered man.

“Are any of you hurt?” she asked
immediately.

“It’s not my blood.” Frank answered,
indicating his crimson speckled arms.

“Okay. We have to get back to our son,” Holly
said to them. “He’s on the bridge defending the truck by
himself.”

“Frank, you need to get that blood washed
off,” I ordered. He examined his gore splattered hands and arms
again. “It’s brimming with a highly contagious virus. There are
bathrooms inside.” I nodded to the building we had just vacated.
“We have to be safe.”

His eyes widened when I said virus, but he
turned back into the building to find the bathroom.

Holly gently grabbed my arm. “I’ll take the
girls and head back up to the truck. We need to make some room for
everyone.”

“Alright. I need to collect our spent mags
and then I’ll be right behind you.”

The two girls looked at Holly apprehensively.
She was decked out like some female action hero, slim and muscled,
holding the short rifle at the ready. Beautiful and intimidating at
the same time. She gave them her most charming smile. “The day’s
not getting any longer, girls.”

They reluctantly smiled back then nodded, and
the three of them began walking back up the bridge.

I quickly collected the empty magazines where
Holly and I had dropped them and came back to meet Frank at the
building entrance.

“Could I have caught the virus from their
blood?” he asked with concern. “Will I turn into one of those
motherfuckers?”

“It’s possible. If you didn’t get it in any
cuts or get it in your mouth or nose, though, you should be okay.”
He was shaking his head no to my subtle inquiry. “We’ll have to
keep a close eye on you though.”

“Shit!” he spat. “This is one fucked up
mess!”

“Come on,” I said, cautiously eyeing the road
down into town, “before more of those things show up.”

The heat was rising off the concrete of the
road, rippling the air ahead of us as we strode over the crest of
the bridge. It was going on noon and the temperature was rising
quickly. It would be another July scorcher. I was looking forward
to the cool air-conditioning of the truck.

Holly was waiting at the pickup with a bottle
of water for me and Frank. We both thirstily drained our bottles.
Jeremy came up and gave me a hug, happy that I was back. He looked
cautiously at Frank.

“I think we should take a break for lunch
down in the shade of those trees by the church.” Holly indicated
the old church on our side of the bridge by the southbound
lanes.

“I can go down and make sure it’s okay,
Papa,” Jeremy offered.

I smiled at him. “In a moment, son.” I turned
to Frank. “This is my son, Jeremy. Jeremy, this is Frank.”

Frank knelt down in front of Jeremy. “Nice to
meet you little man,” he offered his big hand to Jeremy who shook
it a little apprehensively.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Jeremy
responded, staring at Frank’s tattooed arms. Frank let go and stood
back up.

“I want to thank you all again for saving us,
I’m in your debt,” he stated earnestly.

Kera and Amanda were leaning against the
truck listening, the shock from their world crumbling around them
still apparent in their eyes.

“Jeremy, why don’t you take Kera and Amanda
down to the church and make sure it’s clear around it? Don’t go
inside.” He was already turning to leave before I had finished the
sentence. “And be careful!”

Jeremy ran to the two older girls. “Come on.
I won’t let anything happen to you.” He patted his stockless rifle
and I almost laughed at his posturing for the pretty girls.

Amanda smiled at him, “Okay, hotshot, you
lead the way.” The three took off down the road.

“We’ll be right behind you with the truck,” I
called after them.

Holly watched them until they turned off the
bridge and then turned to us and motioned to the open back door of
the truck. “I cleared out the back seat. It will be tight, but I
think we’ll all fit.”

I looked over at Frank. “We didn’t even ask
you what your plans are, or if you want to hook up with us.”

He smiled. “I can’t speak for those two, but
I don’t see a better option for me.”

“Of course ya’ll are going to come with us.
Were survivors of this pandemic. We have to stick together,” Holly
said matter-of-factly. She collected our empty water bottles and
shoved them under the tarp covering the truck bed.

“Let’s get the truck to the church and some
food in our bellies and we can talk about plans and hear how you
all ended up down there,” I said. I went to the driver’s side of
the truck and got in.

Holly indicated for the big man to take the
front passenger seat and she climbed in back. I looked back and saw
that Jeremy and the girls had already reached the church yard.

I turned over the ignition and the truck
growled to life. I backed down the bridge and swung around toward
the church on the other side of the road—just in time to see Kera
open the front door.

Two creatures sprung from the entrance,
tackling the girl, who let loose with an ear splitting scream. I
threw the transmission into drive, jamming on the gas at the same
time, sending the truck careening forward.

Jeremy sprinted from around thirty feet away,
hurtling the headstones of the small graveyard while Amanda stood
rooted in place, her hand over her mouth in terror. He reached the
struggling bodies before we were even across the road and kicked
one of the infected, an old man with a clerical collar, solidly in
the head, knocking him away from Kera.

The other, an older woman with long, stringy
gray hair flailed about her like some evil wraith, snapping her
mouth at Kera, trying to find purchase with its teeth. Kera was
fighting desperately to keep the head away from her.

The man stood back up, facing Jeremy, bloody
froth dripping from his chin. Jeremy shot it twice in the chest
with the Sig. A fine red mist erupted from its back where the .223
projectiles tore through its body. It stumbled backwards a few
steps, then, despite its wounds, it leaped forward over the two
struggling women at Jeremy. He shot again, the bullet exited the
back of its skull, taking with it bone and brain. It fell dead
across Kera and the woman.

The three of us were exiting the truck when
Jeremy grabbed the woman’s wild hair in his fist and tried to pull
her off Kera. The woman turned her attention to him, growling and
snapping, struggling under the weight of the corpse across her
back.

Lifting her head by her hair, Jeremy put the
muzzle of the Sig to her forehead and pulled the trigger. Blood and
brain matter splattered across Kera and the infected woman dropped
dead to the ground. Jeremy still held the fistful of hair in his
hand with the bloody decapitated cranium attached.

He looked at me, his face ashen and his eyes
wide with fright. He cried out when he realized what he held in his
hands and threw it aside. I ran to him and scooped him up in my
arms, hugging him mightily. Holly was at my side hugging him with
me and crying.

“Are you okay?” she sobbed.

“I think so, Mama.” He broke down into sobs
also.

Frank pulled the two corpses off of Kera and
helped her up. She looked like Carrie from the movie of the same
name after the pigs’ blood had been poured on her.

“Never get that close to those things!” I
admonished Jeremy., “They’re too dangerous!”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” he responded. “I was
afraid I’d hit Kera if I shot.”

I took a deep breath and reluctantly released
him from my arms. “You’re right, son, I’m sorry for yelling. You
did the right thing.” I turned to Kera. “Did you get bitten?”

She was sobbing uncontrollably and was only
able to shake her head no.

“Did you get anything in your mouth or eyes?”
I asked, looking at the chunks of brain matter and blood in her
hair and coursing down her face.