Justice (20 page)

Well, this might be it, Hannah.
 

I ignored my traitorous mind and gave one big tug. My body flew away from the Zs and I landed hard in the crumbling street.
 

I scrambled back and looked up, it was Rebel. He had yanked the one off me and it was put down in seconds. He strode over to the one on the concrete and stabbed it neatly through the head. Two more strides and his hand was out and pulling me up. No words, he walked over to Pratt and took out the one that had him.
 

He was a machine. It was fascinating.
 

I looked around for more Z to kill. They were continuing to pour into our area. I was completely out of breath.
 

“We have to make a run for it,” Rebel shouted.
 

He was right. We had to get the hell out of here.
 

“Left, make a left and run for the 610,” I screamed and took off, dragging Pratt behind me. Rebel ran ahead of me. But I didn’t see Murphey.
 

I heard the pounding of boots and looked over my shoulder. She was following behind, gripping her shoulder but running fast. The dead were close behind her.
 

THIRTY-EIGHT | Down Goes Pratt

That guy, Pratt, had really screwed us over. I hadn’t gone for a jog in over a year, so my lungs were screaming in protest after only two blocks. I raced through an overgrown playground and slowed down enough to look over my shoulder. Hannah was right behind me, followed by Murphey and then Pratt. He looked winded, and Murphey was bleeding from her shoulder.
 

I didn’t want to think about what that meant. A high fence loomed in front of us. It was the sound barrier for the interstate. The nearby entrance ramp led to a series of turns that would take you into the suburb of Metairie or downtown New Orleans and the area we were trying to avoid.
 

There was no stopping now though. I hung a right and tore through lawns, almost tripping over a bike hidden in the grass. I regained my balance but there were toys strewn all over this lawn and I almost face planted over some kind of plastic slide turned over on its side.
People need to keep their lawn tidy!
 
The almost trip slowed me enough that Hannah and Murphey caught up.
 

I glanced behind me again, the dead were close.
 

Pratt must not have seen me trip, because the clatter of metal and his pain-filled scream clued me in that something bad had happened.
 

The three of us stopped and turned around. They were on him in seconds. He had gone down and he wasn’t getting up. There was no getting up from what was happening. There were at least twenty of them and they all fell to their knees around the fallen soldier. His screams and shouts for help were horrible, but as one we all turned and began to run.
 

I hated thinking this way, but they weren’t following us anymore. We had delivered dinner.
 

THIRTY-NINE | Kill me, you bitch
 

I dragged her for what felt like miles. Miles of uneven ground, high grass, constantly on the lookout for the dead. I didn’t even know where I was. I followed Rebel.
 

The smell alerted me first and I ground to a stop. Heather slipped from my arms like a rag doll.
 

Rebel, aware of me stopping, came to a halt and bent over panting.
 

I looked down at Heather. She was still breathing. Her skin was gray, though. Like Martinez. She looked like Martinez had looked. She looked like almost zombie Martinez. Gray skin and she smelled like death. That quick.
 

She was bit. Her neck was a nasty mess from one of those things. She knew she was as good as dead. I saw it when she opened her eyes and stared at me.
 

“Kill me.” The words might not have had sound. But her mouth worked and formed those words. The blood pumping in my ears was so loud. My heart beat a mile a minute. I couldn’t
 
hear her words. But, I read her lips.

“Kill me, you bitch.” I heard them now. “Don’t let me turn.”

All I could do was stare down at her. There were tears streaking down her cheeks. Rebel stepped forward and I looked up and glared at him.
 

“Don’t even,” I hissed and he stepped back, hands raised. I knelt down next to her. I pulled out my knife.
 

“Murphey,” I sobbed.
 

“Do it,” she whispered, her voice a rattle in her throat. “Don’t be a pussy.” Her eyes closed, she was ready. I did it quick, one slice across her neck and then the next through the base of her brain stem. Hopefully it was painless.
 

I stood up too fast and lights began popping across my vision. I felt dizzy as if the ground was moving underneath my feet in waves. I crumbled to the ground.
 

FORTY | Baby

She was heavier than she looked. Must be all the gear. She protested when I grabbed her and picked her up. But she was incoherent. I had to find a place to bunker down for the night. We were near some houses; hopefully there was something viable nearby.
 

When she began to shiver, I readjusted and threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She must be really out of it. She didn’t say a thing.
 

I exited the interstate and went up the high embankment of the train tracks. When I got to the top, sudden clarity of where I was hit me. We were entering the “Cities of the Dead.”

Hannah squirmed on my back.

“Put me down, I’m fine,” she complained. I did as she asked and set her down on her feet. She turned and took in our surroundings. The sun was starting to go down. The red sky was bright against the white marble of the raised crypts.
 

“Great,” she sighed. “What the hell happened to me?”

“You fainted,” I said honestly.

“I did not faint. I don’t faint.”
 

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself,” I said a little more bitingly than I usually was. I was worn out. I also didn’t want to run through a bunch of crypts with zombies chasing me. I wasn’t superstitious, but this was pushing it.
 

“Ouch.” She looked over at me. She was still pale, but color was starting to come back to her cheeks.
 

“We can bunk in the funeral home. It’s probably the safest place in the city. No one would be there,” I said.

“Yeah, they’re all in the church.” She glanced uneasily at the big church that loomed to the east of us. She shivered and swayed on her feet again. I grabbed for her with the intention of helping her but she pushed my hand away. I couldn’t believe she was standing at all. I wouldn’t be able to function if I had gone through what she did. I went to her again, not caring that she didn’t want my assistance, this time she let me wrap an arm around her but she got a glare in.
 

“I got this, let’s go.” She pulled away from me and marched down the tracks and into the cemetery. She stumbled once, but righted herself and kept marching forward. Leaving me and my chivalry behind.
 

Row after row of crypts were in front of us. Each tomb was like a little house. Some even had iron fences around them. Grass and weeds poked out from the “streets” between the tombs, but it was in relatively good shape. This was one of the newer cemeteries, catering to the Lakeview and Mid-City people. The tombs showed fairly recent dates, and their facades were still glossy and glittering in the sunlight.
 

I trudged along with Hannah at my side until we reached the end of the row. The path of tombs led to a circular drive and a squat but expansive building that was built to resemble a house. Not one car was parked in the lot. It would be empty.
 

I went for the door and was relieved to find it locked. If it was still locked, there was no one in there. I used my machete to force open the door and we stepped cautiously into the building, the stale smell of decay the only indicator of safety. There was no smell of rot or body odor.
 

I pulled out my flashlight and shone it into the building. I had been to one funeral here, so I knew they had three or four viewing rooms, and two break rooms. I led Hannah to the left and we passed a viewing room with the coffin still in place, dead flowers surrounded the box. I hoped to God there was nothing in there.
 

Around the corner was a break room and to my great pleasure, a water cooler. I grabbed a tiny paper cup and filled it with water, pushing it into her hands. She gulped it back greedily and then stuck it under the dispenser for more.
 

We drank our fill and then I found some towels and began to clean off. She followed suit, not saying a word. I peeled off the thick layers of clothes, starting with the heavy leather jacket I had been given in place of my cut from the club. It was warm in here. I wouldn’t need it.
 

When I was done cleaning up, I pulled cushions off the sofas that lined the hallways and brought them to the break room and piled them on the floor. Then I shut the doors and propped a chair up against the handle just in case.
 

Hannah paced back and forth, digging in the cabinets, looking under tables.
 

“I have these.” I pulled MREs from my pack.

She nodded and came over and sat next to me. I filled one heating element with water and activated it. I placed the two meals in the cardboard packaging it came in, with the heater in the middle and sat back and waited. In those twelve minutes it took for the MRE to cook, she sat there quietly next to me. She must have used some kind of lotion or soap because she smelled like lavender again. She sat next to me so close I could feel the heat of her body against my right side.
 

I poured some of the drink mix in a bottle I had in my pack and shook it up. The mixes were full of vitamins and sugar. She needed to get something in her system. She was physically fit, but we had lost two of our team, had run over five miles and we were now on our own, in the middle of a cemetery and half of our supplies were in a truck miles away.
 

She took the bottle from me and gratefully chugged it, then took the MRE packet I handed her and began to slowly chew the contents.
 

I followed her lead, chewing the bland tasting meal. I didn’t know what I was eating. It tasted like sauce, whatever it was. The MREs came with a little bottle of hot sauce, but I couldn’t find it. I must have dropped it when I pulled out the pack.