INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (63 page)

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

T
his particular station hasn’t exploded… yet, though there are plenty of drugstores that are not so lucky. Maybe it’s because of the “Sorry, No Gas” signs up on the pumps, or because it’s too close to the heart of the city—anyone who wanted to evacuate probably planned on filling up on the way out.

Still, it’s eerie to see such a popular locale with no patrons; a ghost ship, floating amidst a newly dead city. You step across thick lines of burnt rubber, stamped out across the pavement as a signature of chaos.

You go up to the glass façade and look in. Some food and caffeine-laden drinks remain, but there have been looters here before you.
Ding!
You open the front door and step in. There’s a haze of dust, like what might be found at a construction site. None of the lights work—that entrance bell must have an independent battery.

A single fluorescent light flickers on in the center of the room, but goes back out again. There’s enough ambient light leaching in from outside, but deep shadows hide within the aisles. The refrigeration has gone out, though everything in here is so packed with preservatives that there’s no rotting smell.

You crunch over potato chips and pork rinds, scouting what remains of the store. Just as you stop to scoop some fruit pies and beef jerky into your backpack, a flutter sounds from the pharmacy in the back.

You hold your axe high and check it out—best to make sure the place is clear before you put yourself into the vulnerable position of forager. It gets darker as you move away from the storefront and into the recesses of the shop.

But there’s a light coming from the back as well, and after you pass the darkest point in the store, you see the source of this new illumination—a car has crashed through the back wall and into the pharmacy section.

The whole area is raided. A few empty cardboard containers held medical supplies once, but nothing remains now, save for downed cinderblocks and dust. A black flash pulses out toward you from the shadows with severe intensity, and you find you’re swinging your axe at a raven. The bird screeches at you and loses feathers as it flees through the broken wall.

You stand still for a moment, lower the axe as your muscles relax, and try to collect your breath while listening to distant fluttering and your own heart pounding. Turning back toward the food, you see another burst of black lighting—only this time the shadow isn’t fleeing.

It’s pursuing.

A woman reaches out at you. The axe reels back up in a fierce eruption of instinct. You batter her away, then rush in and swing the blade. She’s so close you’re only able to hit her with the first third of your swing, but it’s enough to knock her down. You bring the axe down over the ghoul over and over until you’re still and listening to your heartbeat once more.

Then you feel it—the throb on your arm. Even now there’s the raised evidence of teeth. Red, swollen, and punctured. You’ve been bitten.

This is why survivors never travel alone.

But don’t worry, in six short hours, you won’t be alone—you will be legion.

•
 
Time to wander.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

“A
rea One, clear,” Tyberius reports in over the radio.

“Copy that, come on back,” Deleon’s voice chirps in reply. “Hefty, are you in position?”

“Area Two, clear.”

“All right, Hefty. Bring it home.”

“Okay, Newbie,” Sims says to you. “Straight ahead is the third barricade. You can take this flashlight and report in if you want. I’m going to the student radio station, and I’m broadcasting a distress call. I don’t care if you come with me, but you’re not going to stop me, so…”

“Sims, what’ve you got?” the radio crackles.

Sims removes a spare radio and offers it to you. Make your choice.

•
 
“Let’s go put in that distress call.”

•
 
“Good luck.” Take the flashlight and radio.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

T
yberius uses his considerable strength to stack desk upon desk around the entrances to the school. Since you believe in working smarter and not harder, you section off the extremities of the school by sliding the large black partition gates across the halls. Between the two of you, you leave open only the service entrance at the rear, which is guarded by a sturdy metal door, the kind that rolls up and down for delivery trucks.

With one of those carts used to wax the floor as a makeshift plow, you push desks and shelves against the entrances to strengthen the barricades. With your help, Tyberius hoists up volleyball nets, filled with more desks and chairs, above the stairs. With a quick release of the ropes, the furniture would collapse from the ceiling and seal off the stairwells. In the event of an attack, you could hide out on the top level.

“Good work,” Tyberius says. The school, by your estimation, is now defensible.

•
 
Return to the gym.