Deathly Contagious (23 page)

 I pulled my arms through the sleeves of my sweatshirt and yanked it off my head. I tied it around my waist, wiping away the sweat that rolled down my cleavage. I flipped my head upside down and attempted—without success—to comb out the tangles in my hair. Giving up, I wadded it up in a messy bun. Hayden had stripped out of his vest and jacket. His black tee shirt stuck to his sweaty body. I admirably watched his muscles moving as he lifted a bag of cement mix, tossing it on a cart.

Finally, we were done. Having supplies at the ready made me a little more excited about the plans for expansion. It gave me hope that things could get back to an almost normal state. A Louis Vuitton purse had been dropped near the cash registered. I didn’t need or want another designer purse; I still had plenty from my ‘shopping spree’ not that long ago. I was in search of something else. I dumped the contents out on the ground.

“Yes!” I said when my fingers graced a pair of sunglasses, also designer. I put them on before we stepped out into the bright sunlight. We put our weapons in the truck and got in. We didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before Hayden slammed on the brakes.

A car slowed to a stop, just feet behind us. Hayden put the truck in park.

“Wait!” I cried.

“What?” he asked.

“Maybe we should, um, approach with caution?”

Hayden’s eyebrows pushed together. “Why?”

“Uh, maybe because the last two groups of living people we came across tried to kill you and held me hostage. How can we trust them?”

“Let’s just talk, ok?” he soothed.

I nodded and stuck the M9 into my waistband. I swallowed hard and got out of the truck. A weathered and worn middle aged man got out of the old Ford Taurus, holding up his hands. His eyes darted to each of the three Marines, and he instantly looked relieved.

“I knew it!” he wheezed. “I knew I heard shots!” He hobbled forward on a clearly sprained ankle. “I’m Owen. I can’t believe it, you’re alive!”

“Hello,” Hayden said formally. “I’m Sergeant Underwood.” He shook the man’s hand. “This is Sergeant Brewster and Lance Corporal Callias.”

“Oh my, oh my God. American soldiers, thank God.” He tightly gripped Hayden’s hand. He turned and waved the rest of his companions out of the car. Blinking, they stepped into the sunny parking lot. I hung back, thinking there must have been a reason Hayden didn’t introduce me.

Owen introduced us to the rest of his party, which consisted of an older woman named Char, Jenna, Harold, and Jared—who I guessed to be anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five. It was hard to guess someone’s age when they were malnourished, dirty, and scared shitless. The sixth person to step from the cramped car was a teenage girl named Amy. She had short black hair and dark eyes.

Owen’s story was the norm with survivors: The little group escaped the initial outbreak; banded together and was constantly on the move, looking for food, shelter and safety. They hadn’t gathered too many weapons and none had any experience using them. Their group started out with seventeen and quickly dwindled down to six.

He said that he felt someone was finally looking out for them when they met up with Jared, Harold and Amy a little over a week ago. They were the first survivors they had come across since November.  And now things were looking up even better since they had stumbled into our path.

The guys explained about the compound, delivering the news like presents to children on Christmas morning. The ragged group was ecstatic.

“Follow us back,” Ivan welcomed.

“Oh, we will!” Owen chattered excitedly. Harold, who stood in the back looking oddly shifty-eyed, nodded at me.

“Who’s the girl? Did you find her too?”

“Yes,” I answered before Hayden had a chance to say anything else. “They just did. I’m so thankful for these handsome, brave men.”

He nodded and I watched his gray eyes flick to Hayden’s gun. “Hey,” he said suddenly. “We have a full car. Mind if one of us ride with you?”

“Sure, in the back,” I decided.

Ivan laughed. “Yes, that will be fine.”

Harold put his hand on Amy’s shoulder. “You’re the smallest. Why don’t you go?”

She nodded shyly and kept her eyes on the ground. Jared’s face twitched. My heart sped up and I slowly reached behind me, my fingers brushing against the metal of my pistol. Something wasn’t right. I exhaled and let my hand fall to my side when the little party crammed back into their car. Hayden drove, Ivan sat shot gun while Brock and I got in the back with Amy in the middle.

We tried to make conversation but she wasn’t too compliant. Only getting one word responses from her that were so quiet it was hard to hear what she was saying, we gave up, turning up the radio. The truck flew down the road, making good time. Amy leaned forward, her body going limp. She would randomly twitch, as if she was trying to will herself not fall asleep.

Then her body went rigid.

“Hey, are you alright?” Brock asked, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she turned to look at him. A growl rumbled from deep inside her throat. She lunged forward and sunk her teeth into Brock’s arm.

Chapter 10

Everything happened so fast. Brock cried out in shock and fear more than in pain. I grabbed the bitch’s head and yanked, unintentionally forcing her to rip a hunk of Brock’s skin off in her teeth. Hayden stomped on the brakes and the truck veered off the road, bumping along the shoulder. Amy screeched and growled. I took a tangle of her hair and pulled her off Brock.

I clamped my hands over her ears and twisted. Her neck snapped and her body went limp. I shoved it forward and grabbed onto Brock’s arm, squeezing my hands two inches above the bite.

“Hold it down,” I instructed. Air rushed in and out of my lungs at an alarming rate. I pressed as hard as I could on the veins, not wanting the virus to pump through Brock’s body. The truck finally came to a stop. Hayden and Ivan jumped out and tore open the back doors. I climbed onto my knees, half on top of Amy’s body. Using my thumb, I milked the blood out.

“Get the first aid kit,” I barked. Ivan stared at me in horror with his mouth hanging open. Hayden raced to the back of the truck to retrieve it. I clambered over the body, moving with Brock. He held his arm out and Hayden poured an entire bottle of peroxide over the wound, even lifting the flaps of skin to thoroughly cleanse it.

I heard a car door slam and I suddenly remembered we had others with us. My fear disappeared, turning into rage. They knew. They fucking knew she was infected.

“They knew all along,” I said, my voice a hallow whisper. I didn’t loosen my grip on Brock’s arm. Ivan yanked the body out of the truck; Amy’s head hit the running board with a sickening smack. Someone screamed.

“It’s ok,” I told Brock, though I knew it was a sad attempt at a lie. My eyes no doubt showed the pure terror I was feeling. I pushed my thumb down again before quickly moving it up and repeating the process. Brock winced in pain. He was losing a large amount of blood, I knew, but I thought it was better than the alternative of getting infected.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Ivan marching over to others, gun raised. With a rattling breath, I turned my face to Hayden. His hand flew to his M9 and he raced over.

“Did you know?” Ivan demanded.

Owen’s face showed true shock. With his mouth gaping, he looked at Amy’s body.

“Did you know?” Ivan shouted again. “Don’t tell me you put that infected bitch in the car with us on purpose.”

Owen said something I couldn’t hear. I turned my attention back to Brock. He was white and shaking. I leaned over him and reached my blood covered hands into the first aid kit. I wiped some of the blood off on my shirt and used my teeth to rip the plastic open around a roll of gauze. My heart raced and my hands shook. I listened to what was going on outside as I pinched Brock’s skin together and rolled the gauze around the wound.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” Ivan yelled. He thrust his hand forward, pointing the gun at Owen’s face. Owen put his hands up and stumbled backward, bumping into the hood of his car. Char screamed and covered her head. Hayden stepped forward and said something to Ivan.

“Put the gun down!” someone yelled. Trepidation pulsed through my veins and my heart jumped in horror when I saw Harold, standing behind the open passenger seat door, holding a pistol that was pointed at Ivan. Hayden immediately raised his gun, pointing it at Harold.

“Nobody needs to get hurt,” Hayden said in a loud but level voice. “Put the weapon away. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

Owen slinked off the hood. Char’s hands trembled as she reached for him.

“Get out of the way,” Hayden ordered. Jenna stumbled her way over. Char wrapped an arm around her and they huddled in the middle of the road.

“Listen to him!” Owen shouted. “Harold, put the gun down! Don’t do anything stupid!”

“Shut up, old man,” Harold yelled back.

“Did you know?” Ivan bellowed, sounding on the brink of insanity.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Jenna cried into Char’s arms.

“The girl,” Hayden said through gritted teeth. “Was infected. She bit my friend.”

“No,” Owen breathed. “I didn’t know. I-I promise.” My mind raced. Why was Harold so insistent on her getting in the car with us if they didn’t know? I stared down Owen. “She seemed fine just a few hours ago. She hadn’t gotten bitten—ever.”

I didn’t think he was lying; he had no idea Amy was infected. He looked Hayden straight in the eye when he spoke. Then his eyes cast down to Amy’s body and he looked genuinely stunned and horrified. Harold kept his gun aimed at Ivan. His hand slightly shook and he held the rifle awkwardly against his chest; he didn’t have the poise of someone who had handled firearms before. His finger wasn’t held over the trigger, leading me to believe he didn’t truly intend on shooting anyone.

Jared, however, did.

He had gone unnoticed amidst the chaos and had gotten out of the car, moving around to the back.  Crouched down, he closed one eye and looked through the scope on his gun. I followed the line; it led to Hayden.

Holy shit.

Harold would shoot Ivan, Jared would shoot Hayden and then…they assumed Brock was good for dead and I was a defenseless girl the soldiers picked up off the side of the road. Would they steal our truck, weapons and supplies and leave? I doubted they would take Owen, Char and Jenna with them. What would they do with Brock and me?

I refused to be left or used...again.  And I refused to let Hayden get shot—again. I smeared the blood off my hands and onto my shirt. Slowly, I unfolded my legs.

“What are you doing?” Brock whispered.

“Saving us.” I looked into his eyes. “Don’t move.” Having been wedged in between the seat and the door, my bow and quiver had fallen out of the truck when Ivan madly opened the door. I quietly slid my feet over the edge, silently landing on the pavement. Keeping my eyes in the direction of the guys, I crouched down and felt around for an arrow.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hayden insisted. “Put your gun down first and we will put ours down too. We’ll take you back to the compound and everything will be ok.”

Harold didn’t move. “You first,” he sneered.

“Alright,” Hayden dumbly agreed. I wanted to yell at him. He lowered his Berretta slowly. “Now your turn.”

I picked up my bow and one more arrow. I stuck one in my boot and held the other in my right hand. My muscles twitched with anticipation. I inched along the bed of the truck, keeping my head down and out of sight. Abhorrence threatened my usually steady shot. I rose up, strung an arrow and pulled back.

Hayden’s arms were at his sides now. And Harold hadn’t backed off. Hayden stepped to the side, looking at Owen as if it would help. Ivan steadied his hand.

“Put the gun down! Now!” Owen yelled.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Hayden tried to reason.

Jared stood up. The angle of the bright sun was making it hard for him to aim at Hayden. He took a step to the side, getting ready.

And I released my arrow. It flew through the air and hit Jared in the shoulder. He cried out and fell back, accidentally pulling the trigger. Harold fired next but Ivan was faster. The rifle toppled over the car door, clanking to the ground. Harold’s body slumped unmoving in the street.

Jared writhed in pain behind the car. Time seemed to stand still. The bang of the gunfire echoed in my ears. Jenna shrieked. A cloud passed over the sun, momentarily making the day as dark as I felt. A cool breeze blew loose strands of my hair across my back and neck causing me to shiver. I shook myself and sprang forward, pulling the second arrow from my boot. I strung it in place and walked around the truck.

Owen raised his hands and backed up again, his gray eyes open as wide as they could go. Hayden quickly went over to Jared and picked up the gun. Ivan’s face was hard. He clicked the safety on his gun and stuck it in the back of his pants.

“You missed,” Ivan told me, his voice level as usual.

“No. I didn’t,” I assured him. I didn’t want to shoot to kill.

“Neither did I,” he said and a chill went down my spine. I nodded and relaxed my arm. “You really had no idea, did you?” I asked Owen.

“No, I promise.” His voice came out shaky.

“I told you!” Char cried. “I told you we shouldn’t trust those two!” She turned to me. “Please, you have to believe us. They came up to our camp one night. I think they would have killed us if we hadn’t woken up. They joined us but didn’t even try to fit in. They kept to themselves, even Amy. I always felt like they were planning something.”

“Ok,” I said simply and looked over at Hayden.

“What should we do with him?” Ivan asked, looking at Jared with discontent.

Hayden shook his head. “He’s hurt, but not bad. We…we could get him back before he bleeds out…maybe.” He shot a disgusted look at Jared, who screamed in pain when he touched the arrow that was sticking in his shoulder. “Shut up,” Hayden demanded. “Before something hears you.”

“We need to get out of here,” Jenna cried. “They will hear us and smell the blood for sure. We-we need to go!” The girl seemed on the verge of a panic attack. A car door slammed and we all jumped. Brock, clutching his injured arm to his chest, made his way over. Ivan rushed over to him, looking into Brock’s eyes.