Toxic (61 page)

The first surprise was that it wasn’t completely closed. A stone stuck in the guidance rail blocked its path. Alva got mad. “I thought it was closed?”

“There’s barely enough space for a person to get through. From the hill you can’t see it. It’s nothing,” Bruce assured her.

They decided to wait a few moments.

There didn’t seem to be any creatures in the vicinity. Leaving Masters and Alison on board the pickup, the trio approached the entrance. The singer plugged her nose. The smell of rotten eggs bugged them, but nobody vomited. Thrown into the position of troop leader for this attack, the biologist snuck a glance inside towards the bridge and then came back to Dewei.

“Listen to me, Dew. The L-Ds don’t attack you, but they will still come towards you, like last time.”

The Asian looked at him with wide eyes. His hands were shaking.

“They won’t bite you. If not, you wouldn’t still be here with us, right? You need to attract all of them, all of them. Do you understand? Then, we can stay here for a while.”

He nodded.

“Good. You’re going to cross the bridge. We won’t be far away, just behind you. You being there will excite them and they’ll rush towards you, attracted by your smell. At my signal, you’ll come back onto the bridge. Alva and me, we’ll take care of the rest.”

The Asian took a deep breath and then turned towards his friends before crossing the rails and sliding inside the opening. He moved onto the wooden bridge and leaned over the guardrail. The three or four meter-deep moat didn’t at all appeal to him. One L-D, with the water up to its knees, raised its head towards him. The creature started to grunt. Dew recoiled. He looked towards the door. Bruce gave him a sign to hurry.

As soon as he was on the other side and then on the path, the Asian stopped after a few steps on the gravel. The grunts grew louder. The biologist, who was watching the scene, swallowed. They were coming from everywhere. There were a lot more than the dozen he was counting on. He didn’t dare tell Alva the truth. Nonetheless, the intensity of the groaning gave the artist an idea of the situation.

“It seems like there are more of them.”

“A few more, most likely.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of Dew. The boy was walking slowly, terrified by the sight of the disfigured creatures limping towards him. He was looking at them directly, his eyes open so wide that they were ready to burst out of their sockets. Several bodies without legs were crawling in the grass. The scientist saw a hand with skinned fingers grab at the ground and then stretch out to drag a torso topped off with a head which was missing half of its face.

“Now what?” the diva asked, impatient.

“Not all of the zombies have come out yet.”

The wait lasted two more minutes and then Bruce took out Masters’ 45.

 The warning shot was like an electric shock, which sent the Asian running back their way and attracting the infected, which formed a compact mass, an easy target for any shooter. Followed by Alva, Bruce moved towards the bridge.

The layout of the area was turned to their advantage. No danger could come from the sides, as they were protected by the moat and the fence. All they needed to do was shoot in front of them. Dew took refuge behind the duo, who didn’t need to be asked twice. The shots tore through the lifeless puppets, which tried in vain to reach them. The path acted as a magnet and a bottleneck. Other creatures ran there from the four corners of the property, attracted by the ruckus, pushing one another. Several of them fell over the guardrail. From their dominant position, Bruce and Alva finished the job, killing them. The decomposed bodies floated in the putrid water. Then, there was silence. The smell of gunpowder, which rose up in the sky, covered the smell of the environment for a moment.

“There are still a few,” Bruce said. “We have to secure the area. Let’s inspect the fence and the pit.”

The biologist killed two creatures crawling on the moist grass. He then went down the gravel path with precaution. An unpleasant surprise could emerge from the shadows without warning and it would be over in an instant. Arriving at the corner of the villa on the first step of the terrace, he froze all of a sudden.

Springing out of nowhere, the thing – which he made out to be a woman because of its long hair – was wearing a sort of torn silk dress, probably a piece of lingerie to judge by the lace edge which was hanging on by a thread. It was her jewelry which stunned him. It was a priceless unique creation by a Tampa jeweler. The necklace, full of precious stones, seemed out of place, enclosing the fragile neck in a golden vice. She only had one remaining earing, which was swinging back and forth from a half-torn morsel of ear lobe. The creature, practically on one leg, moved towards him. Bruce didn’t move. Those jewels had belonged to his mother. He even remembered the last time she had worn them. Her radiant features were superimposed onto those of the L-D which was moving closer to him.

“Mom...”

He lowered his arms. It was impossible. She was dead. A long time ago. Long before the invasion. But those jewels were real, on the skin of a stranger, maybe the former conquest of his father, who had lost his humanity. An explosion resounded. The back of the woman’s head exploded. She fell at his feet, like a puppet, definitively dead. Her forehead showed a brown hole and she seemed to still be looking at him, her empty eyes filled with pus.

“God dammit, Bruce! What the fuck were you doing back there?”

Alva continued to tell him off. “Are you crazy or what? She almost had you. Who was that... thing?”

The scientist regained his composure. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

“Fuck! Pay a bit more attention. I’m going to continue the search. Get a move on and find the pickup. We have to get Masters and the girl to a safe place and then close off the area.”

He handed the machete to the artist and turned around in the direction of the gate. Bruce stopped for a moment beside Dewei, who was sitting on the patio railing, watching the spectacle of contorted bodies which lay on the ground in sometimes impossible positions.

“You were great.”

The Asian stayed still, deaf to the reflections of his companion, who slipped away quickly.

Alva started to check out the state of the fence and the pit. After having removed the stone blocking the rail and pushing the gate, which whined, Bruce joined the colonel and Alison. At the wheel of the pickup, he crossed the bridge and stopped on the path. He went back to close and then lock the only entrance with a chain.

“I didn’t see any holes in the fence,” Alva added, after her inspection round. “On the other hand, I did see a few L-Ds which fell into the pit and debris too.”

Bruce and Masters took charge of unloading the bags from the 4x4’s rear bed and putting them on the patio.

“It’s impossible for them to climb up it. It’s too steep.”

“Yeah. Unless someone helps them,” the diva replied.

“Do you want to go down there and help them up?”

The colonel moved away from the vehicle, which was parked backwards in front of the teak steps, and then wandered around the building. He knew plenty about bunkers and this one seemed well-designed, except for the windows, which were too big. They were apparently hidden by thick curtains, he noted, trying to make out the inside, his face stuck to the window.

The building, in a cube shape and without any embellishments, seemed to still be under construction. The bare concrete walls gave it an unfinished feeling, but also one of solidness, an aspect which was certainly important in the buyer’s specifications. What type of man was the young guy’s father?

“Are you sure that there’s nobody inside? Considering how many people were in the yard, we might find people in there.”

“Or zombies,” Alva added.

Bruce, with a bag containing their kidnapper’s weapons over his shoulders, took the lead. He pushed the grating which blocked the entrance to the porch, which was an enclosure topped off with a slanted roof.

“Not likely. The entrance was designed to resist break-ins. And like you said, it’s closed.”

“So, how are we going to get in?” the girl asked.

“It’s simple. I know where the keys are,” he announced, bending down to lift up one of the flat stones which served as a decoration.

He put them into the lock. Masters frowned and then put his hand on the biologist’s forearm.

“Wait. Your dad might be inside. You said that he was paranoid. He could shoot at us, him or a survivor, take us for somebody else or even act... incoherently.”

“Are you trying to say that he would have gone crazy? With all the ruckus we caused, he would have come out to check it out. No, I don’t think anybody is waiting for us.”

He turned the key. The double door opened slowly. Masters had the feeling that they were entering some sort of vault. Or a tomb. The stench which came out made them recoil.

“Pheew! It smells like dead bodies,” Alva sighed, moving back with her hand on her nose.

Alison tried not to puke and then folded over, followed by Dewei.

“The smell means that there was at least one person. We need to be extra careful,” Masters advised.

With a nod of his head, Bruce showed that he had understood. He entered first, the singer at his heels. Without light, it was difficult to get an idea of the premises. They followed a shadowy hallway. Alva swallowed several times.

“It’s strangely cool in here, don’t you think?” she asked, not reassured.

Bruce touched a frame on the wall. A portrait of his dad, if he could trust his memories.

“I... I don’t know. For sure.”

He continued stealthily until arriving at a large room which was frugally furnished, partially in the shadows. The closed curtains maintained partial darkness. When the singer opened them with a prompt gesture, she jumped and immediately pointed her gun towards one of the leather armchairs. The lifeless body, strangely preserved, didn’t move. She approached with precaution. Its head leaned to one side and showed a hole in the temple. She saw the gun on the soft carpet. The dried blood stains didn’t leave any doubt.

“Whoever this guy was, he preferred to die his own way. A choice which we won’t discuss.”

Bruce stayed still as a statue.

“What?” Alva said, on her guard. “Don’t tell me that...”

“Yes, that’s my dad.”

Dan turned at the end of the curve. The tires screeched on the pavement. In the meantime, the behemoth put the truck into reverse, even though the first infected were already turning in the direction of the source of the noise. His neighbor armed his MP-5 with an automatic movement and prepared for action.

“If you shoot, my Reverend, even more of them will come. I know another way back to the main road.”

The man in the hood reconsidered. Dan accelerated.

The vehicle swerved and then slid to the side, turning its back to the mass of grunting infected, excited by the presence of the prey. On the bed, two survivors from the camp hung on tight, swung from left to right. They drove for two kilometers before taking a chaotic path which led into the underbrush.

“Do you think you can find them?” the spiritual leader asked.

“Don’t you worry. I know his type; I’ve crossed paths with a lot of them.”

The Reverend put an arm on the door, his gun between his legs.

“Really?”

“He’s a soldier, a rational person. Logical. The type who will study all the options before making a decision as to where to go, if you get what I mean.”

“Not really.”

“Do you remember what’s-his-name, that rich Arab guy from God knows where who got the idea of opening a ski resort in the area?”

The leader took off his hood and smiled.

“The hill? I didn’t know that they finished it.”

“They paused work because of the epidemic, which decimated the workforce. Between us, they called him the sheik’s ass, you know, when they lay down to pray on their carpets, their ass in the air.”

The nod encouraged the driver, who automatically stroked a tattoo on his forearm.
Was it the sign of an army unit?
the Reverend thought.

“It would be the ideal place to get a little height,” Dan analyzed. “The view goes all the way to the sea front. Believe in my experience; they went by there for sure. An officer in the marines doesn’t commit lightly; he needs to know the terrain first.

The vehicle turned at a crossroads in the middle of the forest. They almost slid into the mud. Familiar with the area, the behemoth changed speeds with an expert hand. He revved the engine and in no time, he managed to get out of the quagmire. An expression of rage formed on his sweaty face.

“He killed three of my men, including Hans. I know that he was an asshole, but I liked the guy. I can’t let go of this and start with a blank slate. You understand, don’t you, my Reverend?”

In reality, the aliens had wiped out his hopes that night. The camp, the weapons, his companions, friends, former neighbors and power had all disappeared, the leader told himself. He had sacrificed so much and invested so much time into gathering a troop of lost souls. Valiant and pure hearts, currently with the Lord or clenched in the claws of the monsters from the sky, the angels of death.

“You’re not the only one who lost a lot,” he reminded him. “We’ll find them and have our vengeance. If God wills.”

“Amen.”

Dan pushed down the gas pedal, perked up by the moral consent of his spiritual leader.