Resurrection (Apocalypse Chronicles Part II) (16 page)

It was a decent job.

Someone had collected the corpses, hoisted them to the roof, and burned them. The gas cans were still lined up next to the ladder and a singed, slightly metallic aroma lingered lightly in the air. It was disturbing but better than the alternative. I got enough of the rotting flesh smell when they were alive and trying to eat me.

As we left the garage something occurred to me. Maybe it was Harrison’s point about being different or the fact that we’d just passed a site where only a few hours ago
eating
had been a primary motivator for several in the room. Whatever the reason, I thought to ask, “Have you ever tried eating anything other than raw meat?”

He looked surprised by my question. “Why are you asking?”

“You should try eating something, Harrison. In a world where ‘different’ is scary, you jeopardize yourself when you stand apart from the rest.”

“Ah, you saw the attention Christina’s giving me,” he surmised through a smile.

“You did too?” I asked, astonished he hadn’t done anything to quell it.

“Kennedy,” he said, “they’re going to find out what I am sooner or later.”

“Who,” I corrected him. “They’ll find out
who
you are.”

Quietly and with a great amount of tension, he replied, “
What
I am, Kennedy. And once they learn it, they won’t see me as human any longer.”

“I know,” I said, dread washing over me, sapping the volume from my voice. “That’s exactly what scares me…”

That fear stayed with me over the next seven days while we remained at the store, even surmounting my worries over the Infected outside. Harrison sensed this and during that time, he began to take a Styrofoam cup of whatever was being offered during meals and set it in front of him. He even lifted the plastic spoon to his lips and pretended to sip. When the rest of the group was done, he slipped it to Doc, who needed more than was rationed to him, and left the table. At night, Harrison walked the premises, refusing to forgo that duty for the sake of blending in. But, to ward off suspicions, during the day he held conversations with others on insomnia and old injuries that left him uncomfortable laying down. He was convincing, and his innate charisma made him all the more believable, especially with the females in the group who weren’t immune to his looks. He became passably human—with quirks, yes, but acceptable ones. If the Infected hadn’t overrun us, his secret may have been kept indefinitely.

Our team spent most of our time on the roof, keeping an eye on the Infected, which slowly gathered ranks down below, as if they were drawn to us. We paired up and each of us took a corner of the building, shifting every hour to keep our view fresh and prevent our efforts at surveillance from falling into complacency. It was a tip from my dad and it worked well. The way we paired up was natural, each of us gravitating toward who we were most comfortable with. As I stood with Harrison, Doc and Mei huddled together, sometimes practicing hand-to-hand combat techniques which usually ended with Doc on top. Harrison and I always turned a blind eye to what followed because privacy was rare when living in close quarters and they deserved what little they could find. On the third day, Christina appeared and, in an odd assembly, stood with Beverly. The two formed an odd friendship, arguing one minute and practicing combat techniques the next. But I knew they had become friends when Christina appeared on the fifth day with her makeup done. To her credit, even in the midst of a disaster, Beverly refused to lose her sense of privilege and managed to gain a groupie.

On the sixth day, we broke position and collected in the center of the roof, having been called there by Doc. Once huddled, he stared pointedly at Mei, who looked uncertain.

“Go ahead,” he urged gently.

“Well, I noticed a weakness,” Mei remarked, taking us all by surprise.

She didn’t immediately follow up her statement with another, so Beverly replied, “Are you going to share it with us or should we use the superb mindreading abilities you seem to think we have?”

Mei gained some backbone then and gave Beverly a piercing glare. She received an impertinent lift of the eyebrows in return.

“After we left the outbuilding by the freeway, when the Infected were coming through the woods, there were three in the field who we were trying to dodge by ducking from car to car.”

“I remember,” I said, coaxing her on.

She seemed relieved, somewhat. “The three were looking away, even though we know they were listening for us, but
what they heard
was the other Infected coming through the woods.”

She must have received blank stares from all of us because she clarified, “We can use the Infected as radar. Their five senses are heightened. Let’s use that to our advantage.”

It was evident the idea never dawned on us before, judging by our expressions.

Harrison cleared his throat and admitted, “Yes, yes, that happens with me. We can get distracted.”

Christina tilted her head to the side and her suspicions about his oddities resurfaced. To cover for him, I added, “All of us do. It must be a human response not damaged by the virus, and definitely one we can use.”

Christina contemplated this before giving an approving nod.

“There’s something else,” I continued. “At the Nielsen’s, when the snow fell, the Infected didn’t think to camouflage themselves. They contrasted with the snow, which made them easy to see.”

“So they don’t have a preservation instinct,” Mei contemplated out loud.

“At least, not one that is developed enough to think strategically,” I said.

Before long, we were all nodding as we mulled this over.

Doc broke the silence to bring up another point.

We were on a roll…

“I noticed a weakness too.”

“When we were in the army surplus store and they were coming down the hallway, it was easier to handle them when they were…funneled to us.”

“Right, which narrowed our field of engagement,” I said, my eagerness coming out in my tone.

“That’s a strategy,” Beverly stated.

She was right, but so was Harrison when he replied.

“A good one,” he said, thoughtfully.

Harrison’s eyes fell to the gravel roof and stayed there, telling me that he hadn’t finished sharing.

“What are you thinking?” I asked before it came to me and I drew in a quick breath. “An ambush.”

“That’s right.”

“So we can escape…,” I added.

He nodded.

“An ambush?” Beverly curled her lip up in a scowl. “Isn’t that where someone lies in wait to attack an unsuspecting enemy?”

I was impressed by her knowledge, which she noticed. “Yes, Kennedy, I know some military terms. I’ve actually played Call of Duty before, which is why I’m a little concerned about your boyfriend’s little plan.”

“Why?” Harrison replied, remaining confident in himself.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we have no place to lie in wait, we have no way to attack, and our enemy…” She motioned to the edge of the roof where the Infected were huddled up clawing to get in. “…is clearly not unsuspecting.”

A smile began to form on Harrison’s gorgeous face.

“What?” she demanded impatiently.

“You’re looking at this all wrong, Beverly.”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side in an effort to portray him as idiotic. “And how, exactly, is that?”

“Because every one of those is to our advantage.”

Beverly shook her head in confusion. “You know what,” she hissed. “Christina called you crazy when she first met you, and I’m beginning to agree with her.”

“I did,” Christina asserted shamelessly, which only deepened Harrison’s grin.

We paused to listen to a spike in the noise the Infected made below.

“So,” Beverly said, the side of her mouth slanted into a frown. “What’s this ambush plan of yours?”

“Well, what we’re doing is waiting for them to break-in, which
will
happen, leaving us unprepared and defenseless. So we aren’t going to wait for it to happen.”

“Okay,” Christina said, excitedly, “I like this plan.”

“We’re going to
let
them in.”

Her face fell. “I no longer like this plan.”

Harrison gestured for Beverly’s weapon, which remained with her so frequently it had become an extension of her body. She begrudgingly handed it to him and he began to map out his strategy, using the gravel to demonstrate. What impressed me was that it wasn’t one of attack but one of avoidance, and by the time he was finished, I wasn’t the only one gazing at him in admiration.

Christina, however, remained the sole opposition. “No, no, we stay here as long as we can.”

“And then what?” I challenged. “The Skin Eaters come through that wall of glass at the front of the store.”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“It hasn’t yet,” she countered.

As if on cue, Lou’s head emerged from the roof access. He was panting, which announced his approach. His face was red and perspiration streamed down both sides, making me think he’d run from the far end of the store. He had a peculiar expression, similar to the one Christina wore, a blend of disturbed amazement.

“The Skin Eaters…,” he exhaled. “They’re-They’re breaking through the glass…”

CHAPTER 9

T
HEY THOUGHT THEY WERE SAFE, THE
twenty-two people waiting out the end of the world in the WillMart at the border to their small town. With three concrete walls and reinforcements against the fourth to keep out the Infected, they felt they had covered every entry point. That belief was shattered when Lou pointed out the crack I had seen days earlier. It had been just a scratch then, an impurity in the manufacturing or maybe a cut left by an overzealous shopper accidentally slamming a cart into it. That seemingly insignificant defect had suddenly become the bane of our survival, reaching to a foot in length from the pressure of the Infected leaning against the glass from the other side.

I watched them, their skin sinking into crevices around the bones of their emaciated bodies, understanding how it would have been easy for these survivors to envision their fortress as stable and permanent. Yet, as the Infected, who stood six deep on the other side, helped lengthen that crack with a single, abrupt thump, one fact was clear: Harrison was correct. The Infected would be entering.

This realization swept over the twenty-two survivors rapidly and it quickly converted to panic. They began moving, although none in any particular direction, because their frenzied minds knew what our team already did…There
was
no place to go.

“What do we do?” a woman named Marge Trotter asked, frantically darting her eyes back and forth in search of an answer. “What do we do?”

Beverly exhaled loudly with a roll of her eyes. “
First
you’re going to calm down.” Shaking her head at them, she waited until they had done so, eyeing them with pinched lips. “Try to contain yourself, people,” she muttered when it was quiet again. “Now, Harrison is going to tell you how we’re all going to make it out of here alive.”

Their heads rotated in unison toward Harrison, every one of them wide-eyed with hope.

“Well, go ahead,” Beverly pushed, as if they had planned this introduction and he should be ready for her cue.

He cleared his throat, gave me a disgruntled glance, and stepped forward. Yet, as he opened his mouth to speak, the window rattled violently, the same one that had begun to crack. Unable to bear the weight of the Infected any longer, it shattered in that moment, and the sound of breaking glass filled the air. Then came the explosion, sending shards raining down over the group.

Having time for only a single word, Harrison relayed his instructions to the group.

“ROOF!” he bellowed.

The crowd jerked into action, fleeing for the storeroom in a crazed stampede. Our team was the exception, moving in alternate directions as Harrison followed his first command with another, directed solely at us. “FOLLOW THE PLAN!”

We passed our backpacks at nearly the same speed, ducking to pick them off the floor and swing them over our shoulders as we ran. From there, Mei and Doc splintered off from us, turning right. Beverly and Christina headed for the garage. Harrison and I aimed for the stockroom.

The Infected came in like a flood, which only pushed us faster.

Through the opening into the stockroom, I caught sight of a steady stream of people moving up the ladder to the roof. Behind us, the heads of the Infected shifted and bobbed over the racks of clothing. They were now inside the store.

Harrison and I positioned ourselves at the stockroom door where Doc and Mei entered moments later carrying ropes over their shoulders. Beverly and Christina rounded the other one, each with their hands full, holding multiple metal sticks wrapped in duct tape at the base. They slid them across the ground, their clanging echoing off the barren concrete walls, and turned to meet the Infected.