Day One (Book 2): Choices (12 page)

“We haven’t done anything… there was no one here when we got here, I swear to you!” My Captive said in a trembling voice.

“Where is he!” I shot back.

The radio in my chest rig, threw a flash of static, followed by Johnny’s voice. “Hey, man. I don’t know what’s going on down there, but you have a large group of those things headed right for you, so get your ass out of there!”

“You hear that? Death is coming for you, and it won’t be as quick as theirs was,” I told him. “Last chance to tell me the truth.”

“Jesus Christ, I am telling you the truth! There was no kid in this house when we got here; there have been no kids here the whole time we’ve been here!”

I looked toward the door and could see the undead at the driveway. They could see me and my captive just inside the door. “Here they come.” I forced him around to face them, unwittingly putting my back to the strange woman that was still armed. “Tell me what I want to know!”

They were at the sidewalk just feet from the open front door.

“I am telling you, but you won’t listen to me!” He shouted.

As the group of undead filtered through the door, I felt a searing pain and massive force hit me from behind. It felt like every bone in my spin had shattered at once and I was knocked forward, tripped and went to the floor as the undead grabbed and took my Captive to the floor screaming. The strange woman screamed in horror and three of the undead went after her, bypassing me altogether.

I lie there on the floor watching them rip the man apart before my very eyes. I was frozen with fear and in terrible pain, the hate no longer surged through my veins. If I moved they would spot me and since I was already on the floor, they wouldn’t have to work very hard to overpower me.

The screams from the victim were almost too much for me to bear, yet there was nothing I could do to stop them or even block them out. I tried staying motionless, hoping that they’d think I was dead and leave me alone. That was by far the stupidest thought I’d ever had in my life. All I needed now was for Johnny to call me on the radio.

The sound of the rotor blades pulled the undead from their feast and they began looking around, as though they weren’t quite sure where the noise was coming from. One of them looked at the ceiling and made some sort of grunting sound, which stopped the others and they too looked up.

Blood from my Captive had squirted in my direction and I could feel it running down the side of my face. It repulsed me and I wanted to wipe its warmth away, although doing so would ultimately call the attention of those things just a foot from me. However difficult it seemed, I did move my right hand slowly up toward the radio, still hoping that Johnny would not call me.

Something grabbed my hand and I froze, expecting to see the horde descending upon me. Instead, what I could see through squinted eyes was my Captive grabbing at me, possibly in some last ditch effort to save himself, perhaps he thought by showing them I was there they would be more inclined to attack me and leave him alone. His hand moved from my wrist up to the radio I had in my chest rig. I stared into his fading eyes as he glared back.

The radio threw static and I flinched. Johnny’s voice poured from my chest and the undead focused upon me. I could not get my weapons up fast enough, nor could I get into a better fighting position… I was screwed!

“What the hell is going on down there, buddy? There’s a shitload of them that just entered through the front door.” He shouted.

The undead edged toward me, not interested in me per say, but more so of the radio and the strange voice it echoed. The Captive flinched and the undead were suddenly pulled back to him. He began screaming at them and even hit one of them in the face. They re-engaged their attack and within seconds he was dead.

More static. “Answer me, man!”

The undead looked at me, as one of them slowly scooted toward me. I shut my eyes tight and tried to squirm my left hand down and around to my pistol. If they were going to eat me alive, then I’d pull the pistol and shoot as many of them as I could. If I was almost out of bullets… then I’d do the unthinkable and use the last bullet on myself. I didn’t want to know what it felt like to be eaten alive. I didn’t like cutting myself when I shaved, and that was nothing compared to what was about to take place.

The single undead got close to the radio, sniffed it a few times, then me and turned back to his fellow dead buddies. To my surprise no attack came, as they simply got up and continued through the house in search of the other three people they knew were inside somewhere.

I lie there trying to figure out why they hadn’t eaten me. Did I not taste good, I mean how could they tell, they hadn’t even taken a nibble. The shock of them leaving was nothing compared to how offended I felt that I wasn’t good enough to eat. Don’t get me wrong here, I am completely glad that they didn’t, overjoyed without question, but flabbergasted as to why such an easy target, or meal, had been overlooked and left alone.

Did they only attack when they were hungry? Is that why I was still alive or was it something that my mere human brain could not comprehend? Something perhaps that elevated them above us, concreting their dominance over our own?

What was it?

I could lie there and think about it all night or I could get up and do something about it. Not all of them that entered the house had dined on my Captive, which meant if they only attacked when hungry, I was far from out of the woods. So I slowly got to my feet and stood deathly still, listening for any movement within the house, as my mind worried about the whereabouts of my son. I wanted to scream his name and let him know that I was there looking for him, thankfully logic and reasoning prevailed and kept my mouth shut.

I didn’t know any of his friends. My Ex did, although she was no longer in much of a talking mood, nor were his grandparents. I’d have to find him on my own, but I had no idea where to start. How do you find a needle in a haystack, when you don’t even know
where
the haystack is even located?

There was a hiss from somewhere in the house and I thought that maybe outside hidden in the darkness would be a better location to think and plan my next move. I neared the front door to find the street outside full of undead. They were everywhere, roaming aimlessly up and down the suburban street. I’d have to leave through the back.

At the sliding door I was forced to plan an alternate route, as the backyard was crawling with undead also. “Dammit, how do I keep getting myself in to these screwed up situations?” Had I known what was to come, I probably would have kept from uttering such a stupid series of words to begin with.

Rushing through the kitchen, I knew they had a vehicle in the garage and once again I could take it, crash through the garage door and alleviate and chances of getting killed within the next few minutes.

I pushed into the garage and bingo, there before me was a shiny new SUV. A smile crested my face, although it was quickly wiped away when one of the intruders from the living room stepped out from behind the SUV. I shouldered the SBR as she raised her revolver.

“Put it down, asshole!” She commanded.

“So you can shoot me, I don’t think so,” I replied. “You put your gun down.”

Anger flushed her terror ridden face. “Put it down!”

I flipped the safety on the SBR off, it echoed through the garage and I put the red dot on her chest. “No!”

“I’ll shoot you!” She added.

“And I’ll still have time to get you,” I stated. “Is that what you want, for both of us to lie on this cold floor bleeding to death until those things wonder out here and finish us off?”

There was no consideration in her eyes. No understanding of what I was trying to get across to her. She was vacant and without any signs she thrust the revolver forward, I flinched and she fired a single round at me. My finger squeezed the trigger out of sheer panic and I felt the weapon recoil into my shoulder. The report of her gun bounced off of every wall several times, magnifying before plowing into my ear drums with great force. My weapon was silenced, which saved me from going completely deaf.

A tyrannical sound, which I could hear even though my ears were ringing like crazy, belted through the doorway behind me and I knew what was making that noise. I knew the fury of footsteps that were coming, and the gnashing teeth with it. I had to hide, there was no question to that, but where?

The newly converted undead scampered into the garage ahead of the others. They saw the woman lying on the cold floor and approached her like stalking animals, which they were if you really thought about their tactics and that fact that they hunted, and ate everything they killed. However, they did not jump on her and tear her to pieces as I figured they would have. Instead, they simply stood there watching her fade away. Apparently they knew the signs of death, or perhaps the dying gave off a certain smell that only they could pick up on, either way they did nothing to her.

I was relieved to see that, as I don’t think I could watch another human be torn limb-from-limb again. A set of feet, not far from where I was hiding, turned in my direction and I suddenly cursed my decision to hide in what I thought was an obvious place. One step after another brought the undead closer to me, so close that when they stopped moving, I could reach out and touch them if I wanted to.

The vehicle above me, which had been silent up until this point, abruptly made noise as the driver door was opened with ease. The new undead seemed to retain not just basic functions, but a few extended functions we all did on a day to day basis without much thought. It had opened the door on its first attempt. Why?

Did it somehow know or think that I was in there hiding, and it was starting with the most obvious of places and deducing from trial and error until it found me? If that were the case, then us survivors were really in a lot of trouble. It was one thing to be hunted by a mindless foe, it was completely different to be hunted by something that could not only think like us, but also act like us.

I lost sight of the other sets of feet when I focused on the ones in front of me, now I had no idea where they had gone or where they were looking, if they were even looking for me at all. I had no idea and was worried that if I contorted my body to look behind me, something might squeal across the floor and give my location away.

The door shut and the feet began to move toward the front of the SUV, stopped and stood there for a few seconds. I could see a knee drop into view and then both hands. Oh god, it was coming down to my level and would see me hiding under the SUV in a few seconds. I brought the weapon up, careful not to let it hit the cool garage floor and took aim, as I knew I had to kill it with one shot or risk it coming in after me and bringing its friends. If that happened they could easily assault me from several different locations at once and I wouldn’t stand a chance.

A vacant face appeared and through dilated eyes it looked directly at me. A soft clasp of metal against metal followed and its brain exploded out the back of its head and it dropped to the cool floor. Another set of feet rushed around to the front of the SUV and saw its friend permanently dead. It knelt and ran a hand across the dead’s face, and for some strange reason leaned forward as if it were about to kiss the dead one when it just happened to spot me. Something close to a hiss left its mouth, but another quick shot and it too dropped. I could hear another set of feet pounding the cool floor, but wasn’t sure where it was or in which direction it was moving. The echoes in the garage bounded off of each wall, distorting the actual location of the movement.

I should have done a little more investigating.

I felt something on my foot that hadn’t been there before, although in the position I was in it was hard to turn and see what it was. Suddenly the harmless thing turned into a grip, tightened and I was hauled out from under the SUV by the last newly undead. It was strong and rolled me over to get a better look at its catch, to which I gave it no time to attack me. I fired three quick shots hitting it high in the chest, in the lower throat and the last round entered under its jaw and blew the top of its head off. It slouched forward onto me, spilling foul decaying blood onto my chest rig. I swiftly pushed it off and readied myself for more of them.

I changed the magazine with a full one; not knowing how many more would attempt to make entry into the garage and if that number was great, I might not have the time needed to reload and could easily be overrun.

I used the rear bumper of the SUV as cover, leaning only my left shoulder out and allowing my SBR to rest against the vehicle. From there I could see the narrow hallway on the opposite side of the door, giving me a fair amount of vision when they came, and hopefully the ability to gun as many of them down as I could before they could get into the garage, even as my mind was telling me to get into the SUV and go. Why I didn’t listen is anybody’s guess.

More static from my radio, only this time I had turned the volume down. “Answer me, Brandon! Tell me what’s going on down there,” Johnny commanded.

“I’m trapped in the garage, man. I was attacked by some assholes that were using the place as a hideout… there was some gunfire and now I’m hold up in the garage figuring out my next move,” I stated softly into the radio.

“You had me worried there for a minute that something bad had happened to you,” he added. “I’m glad you’re still with us.”