INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (31 page)

Tyberius manages to slip out and away from the car, his musculature on display in a wife-beater-style shirt.

“Kill it!” Angelica shouts, helpless with panic. Seatbelt Zombie moans.

“Hold it, Sims,” Tyberius says. “Hefty, do me a favor.”

“You got it.” Hefty stands at the back of the car. The zombie leans as far as it can, torso out of the car, growls, snarls, and moans at Hefty. Tyberius finds the giant sledge hammer he carried; as he claims it from the ground, its end scrapes the pavement. Sparks jump from the metal head.

“Kill it now!” Angelica shouts again.

Tyberius raises the weapon slowly and deliberately, then with an athletic fierceness, spins a three-sixty—ending with the zombie’s head caught between the car frame and the full weight of the hammer.

Another five zombies come out of nearby buildings. You’re surrounded. You axe one in the back, sending it towards Guillermo. Guillermo swings his meat cleaver and frying pan as if clapping them together; the zombie’s head caught in the center where they meet. The damage is disgusting.

Angelica and Deleon manage to knock a zombie down and beat it with candlestick and hammer, respectively. The other three ghouls move in. Cooper shouts for the first time: “Hit the pavement!”

You and Deleon look over toward her as the rest of the group dives to the ground. Cooper lets her length of motorcycle chain slide off her shoulder and it unravels to the concrete. She steps forward and begins to swing the chain. Finally, you and Deleon duck. With a whip-like motion, she connects the chain with a zombie’s skull, which gives off an incredible crack. The twice-dead zombie slumps to the ground. She takes out the other two with similar finesse.

The streets are silent now. The group rises from the ground. “We’re getting off the street for the night,” Cooper says. You realize the sun is setting.

“Where?” you ask. She points forward. You all look: a gothic Cathedral sits ahead—stark and menacing. The spires shoot up through the start of dusk, like the claws of some great beast.

“Looks cozy,” she replies.

•
 
Continue to the Cathedral.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

“I
t might,” she says with a wry smile. “Follow me.”

She ventures outside the home, back out to the streets, with you and her stoic companion in tow. Once outside, she puts her forefingers in her mouth and lets out a whistle. Stillness on the afternoon air. Within thirty seconds, more survivors pour out of other houses—four of them total—to round out the group to six.

They form an arc around you, so you can see them all. “You’ve already met Jose. This is Sims. Tyberius. Hefty. And Angelica.”

You look over them as she calls them off. The first is a man in his late thirties, decked out in military gear and a little overweight. The next two are in their twenties and look like the ordeal has made them feral. The first is a handsome black man in tattered business casual. He wields a gigantic sledge hammer and has a police baton tucked in the waist of his slacks. The other one is a white guy, thin as a rail, and clearly a redneck. Plain white-tee kind of guy. He holds a heavy length of pipe about the size of a baseball bat. The last, Angelica, is a woman in her fifties; by her demeanor and clothing, you can tell she was a privileged housewife back in the world.

“You can call me Cooper, and what I say goes. You got a problem with that?”

•
 
“No, Ma’am.”

•
 
“Actually, yeah. I’ll try my chances alone.”

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

B
efore leaving, you stop by the armory. Though there’s an actual armory within the prison, this secure room has been gutted and transformed for a different use. Instead, the armory of Salvation is an Army trailer that may not be much to look at, but is filled to the brim with firepower.

There’s a US Army soldier ready to greet you; he’s slim, his hair is short-cropped in the Army’s high-and-tight fashion, and he has a thick, ruddy handlebar mustache. “Well, looky here,” he says. “The Three Musketeers, ready for their first mission. Well… you came to the right place to get outfitted. I see you got the sword already, how ‘bout the muskets?”

Rosie holds up her rifle. “I’m sticking with this. But if you have any .22 long rifle, I could use a refill.”

“Coming right up, ma’am. Would you like fries with that?”

“I must respectfully decline your wares, sir,” Lucas says. “I know my blade, and that makes it more valuable than any other weapon.”

“You might be right,
sensei
. But take a couple of these just in case.” The soldier tosses him a grenade belt. Lucas Tesshu nods and accepts with a smile.

“Umm… can I have some of those?” you ask.

He
tsks
his tongue several times with a shake of his head. “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” Then he steps back into the shade of the trailer. A moment later, he reappears with a combat shotgun and an ammo bandolier. “You’ve got your marksman and your grenadier, and you oughta complement them well with this.” After passing the weapon off to you, he adds with a wink, “Besides, you look like you’d be handy with one of those.”

Going back to formalities, he hands off a set of jeep keys and a map of the route to the airport. After ensuring Lucas can read it correctly, he escorts you to the vehicles. You’re to take lead.

“Whelp, thassit,” the soldier says. “Either don’t get bitten or don’t come back—good luck!”

•
 
Continue to the airport.