Deathly Contagious (31 page)

“What do we do?” Wade asked Hayden.

“Move the tree,” Hayden said after a moment’s consideration. “We’re almost to the highway.” He relayed the message to Ivan. Hayden zipped up his jacket and raced out of the truck. Wade followed suit, slamming his door closed before I had a chance to open mine. I leaned over the front seat and opened the passenger seat to open the door so I could get out.

“Get back in the truck!” Hayden yelled over the howling wind.

“No. You need help moving this!” I told him. My hair instantly became soaked and stuck to my face. Ivan, Brock and Rider ran over to help as well.

“Do you realize how heavy this is?” Brock shouted. He said something else but thunder interrupted him.

I didn’t think it was possible but the wind blew even stronger. Leaves and branches rained down on us as the wind ripped through the trees.

“We need to get out of here!” Rider said loudly after a good sized branch hit him in the face.

“We’ll turn around,” Hayden shouted.

“No,” Brock yelled over another clap of thunder. “Cars aren’t safe during tornados!”

My heart skipped a beat. I fucking hated tornados. As much as I loved thunderstorms, they never seemed to pose a threat. Tornados, however, could kill and destroy your home. And there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. I hated them mostly for making me feel helpless. For forcing me to hide out while they did their damage. I couldn’t shoot, threaten or intimidate a tornado. I could only wait it out.

Hayden looked at the truck; he didn’t want to leave it. And neither did I. I wasn’t emotionally attached to it like Hayden was, but it was our vehicle, our way to get back home. It had our gas, our food, and our weapons inside. We needed it to survive.

The wind stopped howling and started rumbling, growling and whistling.

“This way, go! Now!” Ivan shouted. Hayden took my hand and ran forward. We flew down a hill, over an embankment and through a thin line of trees. When we emerged from the trees, my eyes widening in fear.

A whirling mass of destruction moved with fury at us. Ivan shouted something; his voice was lost in the wind. Branches, leaves, and random pieces of debris sliced through the air. I ducked as a piece of a plastic garbage can whizzed overhead. Hayden let go of my hand and covered his head as another piece flew above us.

Ivan looked around, madly trying to find a place to go. He pointed forward and we darted in that direction. None of us were able to look away from the tornado for long. My heart beat a million miles an hour. The rain suddenly ceased as the tornado drew closer.

We raced across the highway, staggering our way through the overgrown median. Adrenaline coursed through my body, fueling my legs to move faster than normal. The wind blew into my ears so hard it hurt. I looked back to check on Wade and Brock, who were behind me.

I didn’t see the broken piece of a two-by-four until it smacked into my shoulder so hard it knocked me over.  Barely stopping, Rider yanked me to my feet and we were running again. I wasn’t even aware of the pain in my arm. I risked another look at the tornado; it was gaining girth and picking up speed.

Then it jutted off its course, grew thinner and disappeared into the clouds. The wind, however, didn’t cease. We slowed to a jog until we reached the other side of the highway. With the wind still forcibly blowing into us, we didn’t dare to stop yet.

Hayden took my hand again and we slowed to catch our breath.

“That was close,” he panted. I nodded and took a deep breath. I put my hand on my side, massaging the stitch.

“Guys!” Brock shouted. We turned and saw the funnel cloud. It was closer than before. We took off again, pushing our way through another overgrown section of land off the highway. A cluster of buildings ahead promised us safety. Our feet hit the pavement of a parking lot just as the tornado touched down.

It gained in size at a sickening rate. Hearts pounding, we looked around us.

“There!” I shouted, pointing at a parking garage. A scrap of metal got picked up in the wind, spiraling around, caught in the current before unleashing as if it was aimed at us. It clipped Rider in the head. Without hesitation, Brock and Wade raced to his side. Blood streamed down Rider’s face. He pressed a hand to the cut and staggered to his feet.

With help, they half led, half dragged him into the parking garage. A minivan flipped over and scooted in the wind, upside down, along the street. We moved down toward the underground level of the parking garage but didn’t want to go so far we’d be completely in the dark.

Brock, who had stayed completely in uniform, extracted a flashlight from a vest pocket. He quickly flicked it over our surroundings; Water dripped above us and the walls were covered in graffiti. Most of the parking spaces were still full.

He stepped over and shined the light on Rider’s head. Rider made a strangled noise of pain when he removed his hand.

“I don’t think it’s that deep,” Brock said, inspecting the wound. “Though there’s not much skin right here. I don’t know when it’s considered ‘deep’ on a head wound.” He looked at me as if I’d know.

I shook my head. “I know head wounds bleed a lot. Put pressure on it.”  

“It’s dripping in my eye,” Rider complained.

“Look down,” Wade suggested. “So the blood will fall off instead of running down your face.”

“No,” I told him. “Won’t that make it bleed more?”

“I don’t know,” Wade said while shaking his head.

Metal scraped on pavement; more cars must have gotten tossed around. Confident the cement garage would hold, I kept my attention on Rider.

“Do you have anything to stop the bleeding?” Ivan asked Brock. Brock patted his pockets; he had ammo for his machine gun that got left in the car as well as a shit ton of other useful things, but nothing to stop the blood.

“Hang on,” I said and took the flashlight from Brock. Quickly, I picked out a newer, clean car. I yanked on the door; it was locked. I moved onto another; this one had left the windows cracked a few inches. I shined the light inside the car and saw a sweatshirt on the backseat. I forced my arm through the window and unlocked the car, making the car alarm go off.

Before dealing with the blaring beep, I retrieved the shirt and tossed it to Brock. Hayden opened the driver’s side door and popped the hood. He took the flashlight from me and yanked on something, making the alarm shut up.

“Come over here,” Hayden suggested, opening the back door of the car so the dome light came on. Rider moved over, heavily sitting on the seat.

Brock pressed the shirt over the cut, telling Rider to hold it and look up. Something heavy moved above us. The garage trembled. I stepped close to Hayden, wishing with my whole heart that the garage didn’t collapse on us.

Everyone else must have been thinking the same thing. We stood near the car, welcoming the little illumination the dome lights gave off. I held my breath, waiting. Pass, just fucking pass, I repeated over and over in my head. If we were lucky, this garage was new and made of reinforced steel and concrete.

Yea fucking right.

Without looking at the faded and peeling paint, it was obvious this was built before I was born. Dust rained down on us. Hayden stepped close to me, protectively putting his arms over my body. Even he couldn’t shield me from falling hunks of cement.

Then the place really started shaking. The dust turned into little chunks, rattled loose from the storm’s wrath.

Rider stood, nervously looking around. The six of us exchanged glances, all knowing that our fate was nonexistent if the ceiling fell.

The tornado must have been right above us. Involuntarily, my body shook. Hayden pulled me closer to him. A golf ball sized piece of cement hit me on the top of the head. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything serious. Hayden put his hand on the top of my head. I tried to pull away, wanting to protect him too.

My heart pounded and my palms sweat. I wished the tornado had an ass for me to beat. The rattling slowed and the harrowing winds grew quieter; the tornado was passing. I felt Hayden relax considerably. I hadn’t realized how tense he was.

“Holy shit,” Ivan swore. “Let’s not do that again!” he joked.

Wade cleared his throat. “That’s fine by me.”

“I fucking hate storms,” Rider stated, pulling the shirt off his head. Blood glistened in the weak light. He wiped what he could off his face and threw the bloodly shirt on the ground. “Come on,” he said, taking a step forward. “Let’s find out if our cars made it.”

Hayden moaned. “Don’t say that.”

“They’re fine,” I told him. “Safe and warm and happy and waiting for us.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yea,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “I know so.”

Hayden smiled. “Good.”

But that wasn’t all that was waiting for us. We rounded the corner to find a herd of zombies slowly marching, their deathly moans mixing almost undetected with the howling of the wind.

Chapter 13

I could hardly see them in the dark. The groans and shuffling of feet were unmistakable. Brock held up the light. There were dozens of zombies. And there were six of us.

Six of us who were all severely under armed.

We stopped walking immediately. Already attracted to the fresh scent of blood, the zombies quickened their pace. I had my M9 with seven rounds shoved in the back of my pants. Seven. Then I’d be out. Deciding to wait and use it as a last resort, I yanked the knife from my pocket, flicking open the blade.

“We need to get out of here,” Ivan whispered, his voice shaky. “This way!” he called as he turned and started running. Without giving a thought to where we were going, we followed suit. Seeing their meals suddenly flee, the herd staggered faster and faster.

Worried Rider might falter and trip given his recent blood loss, I fell back to keep up the rear. One of the fresher S2’s sprinted out of the group. I skidded to a stop, heart racing, and waited for him to rush onto me. I was ready; I leaned back out of his grasp and sunk the knife into his eye socket. I shoved him forward, flicking the eyeball off the blade.

I raced forward. The flashlight bobbed several feet ahead. Brock rounded a corner; the outlines of the soldiers faded from view. My breath caught in my chest and I pushed forward even harder. My footfalls echoed. I splashed through a puddle. I risked turning back around; it was a futile attempt at best since I couldn’t see anything in the dark.

My body started to tremble with adrenaline. The floor of the garage sloped down. Great; we were going even deeper underground. My hand tightened around the knife. I was certain there were dozens of zombies behind me. And I’d bet my life that there were more in front of me.

Completely blind now, I slowed. If I stayed in the center of the aisle, I’d be ok. Eventually I’d smack into a wall and figure out I’d have to turn. Then I was certain I’d see the distant glow of the flashlight. My knee hit the bumper of a car.

Wincing, I felt my way around it until my hands graced the cold, damp cement wall. Hoping I was at the end of the garage, I felt my way back and dragged my hand from car to car until I found another aisle.

The smell of death got stronger meaning they were getting closer.  I started running again, only to trip over the body of someone…or something. I scrambled up, kicking around me until my foot hit the body. When it didn’t move, I continued on.

My breath whooshed out of my mouth too loud for my liking. I stopped, spinning around, hoping my eyes would catch something—anything that would lead me out of this parking garage from hell.

“Fuck it,” I swore and started jogging in a random direction. But I only made it a few yards before I smacked into something else.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me down. The wind got knocked out of me but not before my fingers touched his skin. His
warm
skin.

“Hey,” I said breathlessly.

“Orissa?”

“Yea dumbass.”

“Oh, sorry,” Rider spoke and reached down in the dark to pull me up. His fingers poked my face. I swatted his hand away and stood.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I-I lost them. How did you get so behind?”

“I was killing zombies.”

“Oh, nice.” He blindly reached out in the darkness for my hand. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked.

“I have no idea. Anywhere but here.” We walked forward. Rider’s hand shook. I squeezed his fingers. “They can’t see in the dark, can they?” he asked me.

I shook my head before realizing he couldn’t see the gesture. “No. They’re still human. I think a lot of them can’t see at all, even in the day. So they’ve adapted. But us…we-we rely on sight. Too much.”

“Right,” he agreed. Suddenly he stopped walking, yanking my hand back. I stumbled into him.

“What?” I harshly whispered.

“I thought I heard something,” he whispered back. A crack of thunder echoed above us, making us both jump. I held my breath. I didn’t hear anything but the distant howling of wind and water dripping in a puddle.

I’m not sure what I became of aware of next; the strong metallic smell of blood or the sound of slurping. There was a body—a fresh body—only feet in front of us, and we had no idea who it was. My mind flashed to Hayden.

No.

It wasn’t him. We’d have heard screams and just…no. He wasn’t dead.

“Do you have any weapons?” I whispered to Rider.

“No,” he said grimly. He took a step back, bumping into a car. I nodded, internalizing what to do. The fresh body would offer a distraction. I tried to imagine how many zombies could crowd around a dead body. Would they fight, push, and shove each other out of the way? Would the ones who didn’t get a piece of meat go on? Were they even smart enough to remember that we were here?

Lightning strobbed the sky, flashing a head of us. It was startlingly bright.

“We’re not as far underground as I thought,” I whispered aloud to Rider. I got a millisecond look around the parking garage. While I didn’t see anything—or anyone—dead on the floor, I saw that we were backed up in a corner. We needed to turn and run.

I hated holding hands while running. It slowed me down. Afraid of losing each other in the dark, I kept my fingers laced through Rider’s. Seemingly out of nowhere, what had to be an S3 staggered out of the darkness, right into our path.