Deathly Contagious (33 page)

“What are you doing?” I whispered, afraid the herd might see or hear us in our hiding spot.

“Give me your knife,” he whispered back.

“No! There are too many to fight. Even I’m not gonna try.”

“I’m not fighting. I’m gonna cut open that S3. Ya know, for the smell.”

“Oh, right.” I grabbed the knife and handed it to him. “Good idea.”

“Thanks,” he said and rushed out of the car. I cut the lights and rolled up my window as soon as he was back in. We locked the doors and ducked our heads. My heart seemed to be beating obnoxiously loud. I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where the herd was. I wouldn’t know if they discovered us until it was too late.

Though it was dark enough that I didn’t need to, I closed my eyes and envisioned the zombies marching. They had to be close now. Despite my cold and wet clothes, I was sweating from nerves.

Rider reached over and took my hand, knowing how horribly wrong this situation could go. He squeezed my fingers when we heard the shuffling. Air rushed in and out of my lungs. Mentally, I began counting backwards from ten. When I got to one, I risked looking up and out the window.

Of course, I couldn’t see anything. Another painful thirty seconds ticked by. The moans grew quieter and quieter until we could barely hear them anymore. I’d count once more and then flick on the lights and high tail it out of here, I told myself.

When I got to three, something pounded on the hood. Rider and I both jumped. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might burst. We waited, not yet wanting to give ourselves away. Then the nose of the car got pushed down.

Something was on the hood.

Chapter 14

 Rider’s grip on my hand tightened. The car bobbed up and down as the zombie scrambled past our decoys. Then, with a roar, it slapped the windshield. If I was a screamer, that certainly would have gotten a reaction out of me. The zombie clawed at the glass.

“We have to do something,” Rider mumbled.

“Right.” I sat up, felt around for the lights and turned them on. I blinked to help my eyes adjust to the light. The zombie continued to claw the windshield. The herd had passed us—for now. One turned, apparently hearing his undead friend’s attempts to get into our car for a free meal.

He let out a high pitched yell and ran at us. As if answering a call, the others slowly turned around, bumping into each other, causing some to fall. I put the car in drive and slammed on the gas. The tires squealed as we tore out of the parking spot. I jerked the wheel to try and dislodge the zombie. He got caught on one of the body’s, which was sticky with decomposition and wasn’t budging.

I barely made the turn. The tail end of our car hit another. Shit. I didn’t want to wreck this car yet. We needed it. The herd was closing in on us, moving faster than I expected. It was fucking terrifying.

Then another idea popped into my head.

“Take the wheel!” I shouted to Rider after I jerked it one last time. The moving zombie flew off and rolled. I pulled the Berretta from my waist band.

“You had that the whole fucking time?” Rider angrily yelled.

“Obviously,” I retorted. I dropped it in my lap and took the wheel again, sliding around another turn and slowing down. “Shoot an expensive car!” I yelled.

“Why?”

“Car alarm,” I explained, looking behind us. There was no way the herd could keep up if we kept moving. But that wasn’t a guarantee. Rider rolled down his window and hit the back window of a yellow Hummer. The alarm instantly blared.

“I don’t believe it,” Rider almost laughed. “They’re going right to it.”

A wicked smiled pulled the corners of my mouth up. “Like moths to a flame,” I joked.

“Y-you’re awesome,” he told me. If I could steal a glance at him, I’d assume his pale, freckled cheeks were blushing.

I always hated parking garages. Even full of lights and no zombies, they confused me. I had spent nearly fifteen minutes trying to get out of one in Indy once. I felt like a total dumbass and I still don’t know how I wasn’t able to find the right exit.

I paid close attention to the markers, which were luckily labeled for dummies. The big ‘G’ for ‘ground level’ helped. I slammed the gas pedal down and broke through the gate arm. The car flew over the little slope that took us from the garage to the street. We bounced over a curb, fishtailing on the wet street. I fumbled to get the windshield wipers on.

Rider let out a triumphant whoop. “We made it!”

“Holy shit, I know,” I said, suddenly realizing I was out of breath. I don’t think I breathed at all on the way out.  The feeling of euphoria was instantly squished. “Hayden,” I blurted. “And the others. W-where are they?”

Rider shook his head. “They wouldn’t have left us unless…”

“No, don’t even say it,” I demanded. “Not all four of them. Brock was armed a hell of a lot better than I was and we made it out.”

“Yea,” he agreed, though he didn’t sound like he believed it. “Maybe they went back in looking for us.”

“No!” I hit the wheel. “The alarm. W-what if they thought it was us signally for help—”

“—and they walked into the herd!”

I turned around. “We have to go back and make sure.”

“Yes. We do.”

The car’s nose had just made it up the slope into the garage when we heard the shot; it came from behind us. Eager to look, I didn’t bother pressing the brake. The car rolled back. Heart racing again, I had to force myself to gain control over my body. I backed up and turned the car, headlights shining in the direction of the shot.

“Oh my God,” I said out loud when I saw an outline of a person running at us. Then three more joined him. I stomped on the pedal, accelerating as fast as the old car would let me. I slammed on the brake, tires sliding on the rain-slick street. I almost forgot to put the car in park.

I got out and ran to him. Hayden didn’t stop running until he collided with me. His arms wrapped around me and he picked me up.

“Orissa,” he panted. I hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. He set me down, put both hands on my face and kissed me. “I thought you were behind me. I had no idea,” he began but stopped to kiss me again. “When I realized you weren’t there. I-I panicked.”

“He freaked the fuck out,” Ivan said with his characteristic chuckle.

“I didn’t know how I lost you,” I admitted. “I stopped to kill a zombie and thought I could catch up.”

He embraced me again. I heard Rider recant his story of how he got separated in the dark as well. Like us, the other guys had run past the ground level exit. They found the stairs faster since they had the light. Once they were on the street, they realized that Rider and I weren’t with them. Hayden wanted to go back in right away, but Wade, Brock, and Ivan reminded him that without weapons, he’d be no use.

They were scrambling to find something that would work when they got ambushed and forced to flee. Then the heard the car alarm and came back.

“Not to ruin your romantic, reuniting kiss in the rain,” Brock joked. “But we need to get out of here.”

Hayden and I broke apart, fully agreeing.

“How the hell did you find keys?” Wade asked me as we walked back to the car.

“I didn’t,” I told him. “I hotwired it. Watch out for the wires hanging down,” I told Ivan, who went to the driver’s side. “You could get a nasty shock.” Rider, Brock, and Hayden got in the back; I sat on Hayden’s lap. It was a tight fit for the three grown men, adding me made it feel like we were cramming into a clown car. Wade and Ivan took the front.

“How the hell did you learn that?” Ivan asked and put the car in drive.

“From a friend,” I mumbled.

“A friend?” he questioned, stealing a glance back at me.

“Yup.” I didn’t want to go into detail. Other than meeting Hayden, the only good thing about the zombie apocalypse was that is made my criminal record disapear.

“You’re an interesting girl, Orissa,” Ivan told me.

I shrugged. “Thanks.”

The rain continued to pour down on us and the wind would randomly gust, pushing against the little car. There was debris, garbage, and the occasional zombie along the street. Ivan drove on the sidewalks every now and then to avoid hitting something solid and heavy.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Ivan uttered aloud. The four of us in the back craned our necks to see what the problem was. “Do you think we can make it?” Ivan asked Wade.

“It looks deep,” Wade speculated. “I think the tailpipe will go under.”

With no one to clear crap from the gutters and sewers, the road was flooded.

“We could get out and walk,” Brock suggested.

“We might have to,” Wade grumbled.

“Try another street,” Hayden suggested. Now that I was sitting still and the danger was sort of over, I was cold. I wanted to get back to the truck, take my wet clothes off and crank the heat.

“We’re not that far,” I reminded everyone. I knew this car couldn’t make it through the tall, wet grass that lined the highway, so suggesting some offroading would be pointless.

“We’ll try one more,” Ivan decided and turned the car around.  We went around the block, down an alley, through an intersection and onto another street. The roof had been torn off a building, blocking our way.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try again,” Brock said with a sigh. We backtracked, went two blocks down and got stopped by more tornado damage.

“I think it’s inevitable we’re gonna have to walk,” Wade grumbled. “Does anyone even remember where we came from? I wasn’t paying attention,” he admitted.

“If it were daylight, we’d be able to see the highway,” Hayden started. “But now, I’m really not sure either.” He looked out the window and shook his head. “Go back to the garage.”

“The zombies might come out,” Rider pointed out. “The alarm probably stopped a long time ago. I’m not running into that herd again.”

We all agreed but knew we needed to get back to the garage if we wanted to find the highway. It was the only way to retrace our steps.

“Why do they travel in herds?” Rider wondered out loud.

“Safety in numbers,” I joked.

“Do you think they ever get really hungry and eat each other?” he asked no one in particular.

“No,” Hayden answered. “They only want living flesh and blood. Or something that’s recently dead. I think it’s the, uh, nutrition they’re craving.”

“Interesting,” Brock said.

I nodded and shivered again. Hayden put his arms around me, though, with his wet clothes and cold skin, he only made it worse.

Ivan navigated back to the garage, flooring it as we drove passed it. He jerked the wheel and we skidded around a turn.

“Well, wouldn’t ya know?” Ivan chuckled. “The exit. We went the wrong way the first time.”

Feeling relief, I relaxed against Hayden for a minute. Then the relief quickly went away when the car stopped. Tree branches littered the winding road. Hope for our vehicles surviving intact died instantly.

With the light from the car’s headlights and Brock’s flashlight, we were easily able to see the damage. Little braches and leaves covered the truck; the paint was scratched and nicked but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. We got weapons and flashlights before inspecting anything further.

Hayden jumped up in the bed and began removing the tree parts that had gotten jammed in the base of the machine gun. The cover had mostly stayed on, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the whipping wind and rain and gotten through.

A large branch had fallen, the tip of it hitting the Range Rover above the rear, passenger side window. There was a nasty dent and a small, spider web crack in the glass.

“I don’t believe it,” Brock said, running his hands through his wet hair. “Did I die? This can’t be real. Both cars are drivable.”

“Believe it, brother,” Ivan said with a smile and started up the engine of the Range Rover.  I, too, smiled. If I believed that miracles were still possible in this fucked up world which was filled with undead corpses walking around trying to rip out our stomachs to feast on, I’d say the cars being practically unscathed was one.

The rain was starting to taper off but the wind still furiously blew. I opened the door to the truck, stepped close and pulled it shut behind me. When the wind gusted, it pressed the door into me. Not wanting to get the seat wet and have to sit on the wet spot, I leaned in and grabbed my bag. I unzipped it and began digging through for dry clothes.

The door opposite me opened. Hayden smiled and pulled his bag out from under the seat. He threw socks, a pair of boxers, jeans and a tee shirt onto the seat. He stripped out of his wet pants and jacket before hopping onto the seat and closing the door.

“Hurry up, Riss,” he said impatiently. “The seat is gonna get wet.”

“I’m trying,” I told him and quickly dug through my bag some more.

“What’s so hard? Get your stuff and get in.”

“I thought I packed another bra, but I can’t find it.”

“Don’t wear one,” he suggested and took off his wet underwear.

“My boobs are too big not to wear one,” I scoffed. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t like wearing them.”

“Not when I’m lounging around. But running without one isn’t fun.” Luckily I had put a white, tight fitting tank top into my bag. I took it out.

“Oh,” Hayden said excitedly. “Wear that. And stay out in the rain.”

 I wadded up the clothes I needed and threw them at Hayden.  “That’s not funny.” I bent over and unlaced my soaking boots.

“No, not
funny
,” he continued.

“And I’m sure Ivan, Brock, Wade and Rider would just love it too,” I informed him.

“Oh, right,” he laughed.

“And sorry to disappoint you, but I’m putting a sweatshirt on over top.” I kicked off my pants and got into the truck to finish getting dressed. We all put our wet clothes in the bed of the truck. I climbed into the passenger seat, turned on the truck and turned up the heat. Only blasting cold air, I turned it back off and stuck my cold hands under my legs.

Hayden, Brock, Wade and Ivan huddled out of the rain under the open tailgate door of the Range Rover, going over the plan of action. Rider, not wanting to get his dry clothes rain soaked, rushed to the truck.