Jacob's Odyssey (The Berne Project Book 1) (30 page)

I couldn't catch my breath and my insides felt as if they had been squeezed in a vise. I doubled up and rolled over onto my side. And I knew if I made any effort to move, it would only get worse. I tried to gasp for even a milliliter of air but couldn't draw a whiff. I cradled my abdominal area with both arms as if that would somehow help. I knew I had to get up and get moving, get the hell out there, but I couldn't move and I was beginning to panic.

I looked up. He'd been maybe fifteen feet away. He stumbled determinedly toward me through the tall grass, his excited, lisping moans rankling the morning air. He was a middle-aged male with high, sharp cheekbones and intense eyes. He was built like me, slender and average in height. And I knew as he lumbered toward me, I was the entire focal point of his life.

He was no more than six feet away now. I had to do something. I only had a few more seconds. The only thing I knew for certain was that I wasn't going to let him get me. I reached behind me for the gun but it wasn't there. I felt in the grass around me but couldn't find it and had no more time to look for it.

I struggled but managed to roll onto my back as he approached. I tried to breathe but I was too stressed and my lungs still felt as if they were locked up tight. I could feel my face redden. He was almost on me. When he got close enough, I kicked wildly at him but my gut spasmed and tightened up again. I could see he was about to fall onto me and I braced myself for the impact. He came at me from an angle and fell onto his knees next to me. His hands grabbed at my chest and he snaked his head in to get at my throat. I threw my hands up into his chest to ward him off, and I clutched handfuls of his collar and balled my fists around them. I used my grip to control him as best I could and keep him away from me. I was frightened but irrevocably determined. He had wild feral eyes and his mouth and jaw shivered with excitement. A liquidy rasping sound echoed through his throat and a string of drool escaped out the side of his mouth and dribbled onto my t-shirt.

I shrunk back away from him and almost gagged from the smell of sour urine and dried feces. The odor coming from him was thick and wickedly pungent.

Even though he was obscuring my view for the most part, I could see the infected female halfway across the lawn, tottering toward us. I knew I had to get him off me before she arrived. And I heard another sound and I wondered if more of them were coming through the gate.

The infected in the neighboring yards were hammering away at the fences near the corner, slamming their fists and heads into the boards and moaning hysterically.

The infected male moved his hands to my biceps and tried to pry my arms away from him. He was much stronger than he looked and he was frenzied in his efforts to get to me. I kept a fanatical grip on his shirt collar with my fists and refused to let go.

He was no more than ten inches from my face and he kept trying to slither his way past me, but I wouldn't let him get any closer. We were stalemated, but I knew I'd have to think of something to do to get him off me and I'd have to do it soon.

Suddenly, I realized I was breathing again.

The infected female was no more than fifteen feet away now. She dragged her body along at a leisurely pace, stumbling every few steps as if she were tipsy. She was tall and willowy and looked frail. As slow as she was moving, I figured I had maybe six or eight seconds before she'd arrive. I knew I couldn't fight off the two of them while I was lying on the ground. One of them would end up biting me. I had to get up.

The male desperately craned his head toward my face trying to find an opening. A frustrated grumbling vibrated from his chest and throat. It took everything I had to keep him at bay. Next time he came at me, I would use his momentum to roll him over to the other side of me and flip him into the wood fence. I knew it would have to be quick and I'd have to bring him close in to me and then roll with him and forcefully push him away and disentangle myself. And then I'd have to find the gun. I knew the Glock had to be nearby.

I suddenly wondered if I was recovered enough to roll him over. But I knew it didn't matter. I would have to do it whether I was ready or not. And it had to be in the next few seconds.

She was getting close and I could hear her guttural rasping. Just as the male began to lean into me again, I heard the female make an abbreviated hiccup sound and then go strangely silent. I turned my head to get a view and caught a glimpse of her stepping drunkenly sideways as if she had lost her balance. Then she fell hard on her knees and collapsed to the ground and didn't move.

I felt disoriented for a moment, confused. Then I heard someone's feet tramping steadily through the grass, coming toward us. I couldn't see who it was because the infected male hovered over me, blocking my view. The male was still frenzied in his efforts to get to me, but I held him off. Then a silver blur whipped through the air and struck the infected male in the side of the head. His eyes rolled back into his head and his face froze. He stopped moaning and went limp and I hurriedly pushed him away from me.

Standing above me was an old man gripping a trembling golf iron in his palsied hands. He had stooped shoulders and he had to have at least been in his seventies. He had white hair combed back on the sides and was bald on top except for a few wild wisps of white. He had ruddy alcoholic cheeks and was smiling oddly.

"Been wanting to do that for a while now," he said. "Hadn't used this four iron in a long time."

I didn't think we should be talking, but the old man had just saved my life, and besides, with all the racket from the infected bashing the fence, it was likely the infected were already on their way.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

I had my breath back and felt sufficiently recovered. I gathered myself and managed to get to my feet. I looked down at the infected male to make sure he was dead. He was still as could be, same as the tall female. I knew I had to get moving, and I knew the old man needed to get back into his house.

"Looks like you stole a bit of my fence there," he said good-naturedly, nodding in the direction of my left arm.

Three two-inch long wood slivers stuck out from my upper arm like carefully placed acupuncture needles. I glanced at the top of the fence where I'd struck it with my arm and shoulder, and I could see several long slivers of wood peeled back from the wood board.

I hadn't even noticed the slivers in my arm while I was struggling with the infected man. But I could feel them now—a sharp stinging pain, and there was a dull aching in my shoulder. I figured it wasn't a serious injury since I'd been able to use my shoulder to ward off the infected male, and I was certain it wouldn't inhibit me from going over fences.

I was behind schedule. I carefully but quickly pulled the slivers out one at a time. Once I had them out, I carefully removed my top layer t-shirt, making sure not to touch the drool the infected man had left. The drool was all over the right chest area of the t-shirt. After I'd peeled it off, I dropped the t-shirt on the dead male.

The gun was on the ground in the corner. It had been a foot or so behind my head the whole time.

The old man saw me looking at the gun. He glared suspiciously at me as if I were a thief and then raised the four iron over his shoulder in a striking position.

"What the hell you doing out here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Just helping some friends," I told him. "It's all right. You should get back into your house. More infected will be coming soon." And I nodded in the direction of the fence where the infected were still relentlessly bashing the boards.

He watched me warily as I picked up the Glock. I thought he might take a whack at me with the club, but he just stood there watching me. I placed the gun in its spot in the back waist band of my shorts.

"I've got to be going," I told him. "You should too. Thank you, sir."

I hustled to the other end of the yard and he watched me as I went. Then he turned and scurried toward the open back door. He took short steps and walked with a sideways gait.

I felt indebted to him and I waited in the corner to make sure he made it safely inside. The old man kept looking back at me as if I were a threat. I could hear the infected coming and he heard them too. He picked up his pace, but instead of heading for the back door, the old man headed for the backyard gate. I couldn't believe he was heading for the gate. He could have easily made it inside if he'd gone to the back door.

I ran as fast as I could for the gate. An infected teenage girl was through the gate before the old man could get there. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. This time he raised the golf club above his head where it waggled as he waited for her, then he brought the four iron down on the infected girl's head as she lurched toward him. He hit her with enough force that the head of the club embedded itself into her skull. She collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut. The old man tried to wrench the four iron from her head but couldn't get it out.

Another infected lumbered eagerly toward the gate, a young male with wild, bushy brown hair. The old man saw him coming. He must have realized he wasn't going to be able to remove the club from the teenage girl's head, because he turned suddenly and started to run, his face etched with fear. After two steps, he tripped and fell heavily to the ground.

The infected man stumbled excitedly through the gate. The old man tried to collect himself and get to his feet. I ran past him and came at the infected man from an angle. He turned and reached for me, but I was too quick for him. I had a lot of momentum and hit him hard in the shoulder with both hands and sent him flying into the side of the house where he slumped to the ground. I felt a shooting pain in my shoulder but ignored it. I closed the gate quickly and ran over to where the dead, infected girl lay.

I needed the club. I placed my foot on her face and worked the golf club back and forth trying to pry it loose as I kept an eye on the infected man. I was surprised how easily the club had penetrated her skull. The infected man was on his hands and knees now, mumbling and groaning as he struggled to get up. I gave the club one more quick tug and it popped out. I walked over to the infected man and took a baseball swing with the four iron, striking him hard in the temple. He collapsed to the ground and was still. He moaned softly but didn't move. I hit him one more time and the moaning stopped.

The old man's arms wobbled as he tried to push himself up off the ground. I went over to him and helped him get to his feet. Even when I got him to his feet, he was still unsteady. I held him up till he gained his balance. He looked embarrassed.

I handed him the four iron. "You okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he snapped. Then he looked down briefly before giving me a quick glance. "I'm okay."

I thought about helping him to the back door but thought he might not appreciate the assistance.

"I have to go," I told him.

He shook his head in acknowledgment as I started off.

"Thank you," I heard him say quietly as I hustled away.

I turned and nodded at him.

I ran back to the corner of the fence again. The infected were still in the other corner where they'd last seen me, banging incessantly on the fence boards. It sounded like more infected had joined them. And at least a couple of them had moved to the center area of the fence, maybe because of the noise the old man and I had made. I had two more backyards to go before I'd be where I needed to be. I rubbed my upper arm and shoulder. It was tender, but it would be okay. I barely noticed the soreness in my thighs.

I checked my watch and it was just past five-thirty. I was behind schedule. I told them I'd likely be there in ten to fifteen minutes and it was closer to twenty now. And then I wondered if they might think I was dead.

I needed to hurry. I pulled myself up to the top of the fence and inspected the two yards. My shoulder throbbed from the effort. This time I made no attempt to be cautious or subtle. If there were infected in the catty-corner yard, I wanted them to see me. The yard directly in front of me was empty, but the yard catty-corner to my right had three infected in it. One of them saw me, then they all knew I was there. I gave them several seconds to make their way to me. I wanted to get a good look at them. And I did my best to memorize anything distinctive about them. Once they were within fifteen feet of me, I dropped down into the empty yard.

I knew I'd remember the woman. She had dirty, straggly red hair down to her shoulders and would be easy to spot. I hadn't seen a lot of redheads around. One of the infected men had on what had once been a business suit. It was ripped here and there in the arms and the pants and badly soiled. Miraculously, his tie was still tightly knotted. I knew I wouldn't have any problem spotting him either. The other male would be more of a challenge. He was nondescript. He wore shorts and a short-sleeve t-shirt and was average height like thousands of others. He had dusty, medium-length hair, but then again, plenty of them did. He would be tough to pick out in a crowd.

As they made their way toward the corner, I took a few steps but realized it would be best to wait. I knew they would start attacking the fence and that would give me the cover I needed to move well past them without them noticing me.

Once they started their pounding, I quietly made my way across the yard. When I was two-thirds of the way to the opposite corner, I lifted myself up and over the fence. They were still in the corner banging on the fence boards. They didn't notice me at first and I didn't care if they did. They were too far away now to pose a threat. I walked quickly to the fence bordering the next yard. This had been my target yard all along. The yard belonged to the same vacant house I'd noticed when we first crossed Jupiter Drive. If I remembered right, there would be an RV driveway just past the gate. The house was abandoned and the location was perfect.