Survival Instinct (6 page)

NoOne grimaced with distaste as the Humvee pulled up in front of the barricades They’d been to dozens of th
ese little fortresses from Hell, collecting data and trying to learn more about how these fools escaped what the nation’s finest soldiers could not. Of course, the soldiers had no chance of escaping- they were merely following orders- but that wasn’t the point. These people didn’t deserve to live. But their orders were merely to collect and report, not take any action.

He’d once had a rank and name, but those days were long gone. Most of the time he didn’t even remember who he had been back when the world made sense and all was the way it should be. Now he was simply Number One, which the men in charge had found amusing to shorten into NoOne. Number Tw had become NoTwo, which didn’t amuse them nearly as much, but they’d found it expedient. He was a man that followed orders to the letter. If those were the names they wanted used, then those would be their names until they were told otherwise.

NoTwo got out of the Humvee and opened the door for NoOne. NoOne was clearly in charge here, and this show of respect was meant to give that impression. A twitchy kid pointed a gun their way, and then lowered it before raising it again. The barrel of the shotgun he aimed their way swayed and dipped as though the kid were drunk- or maybe just terrified. Without blinking, NoOne pulled out his pistol and shot the kid between the eyes. The body was still twitching when it hit the dirt, sending up a puff of dust that settled lazily over his ruined face. Alarms shrilled out, and other men came running, guns at the ready, in various states of undress. NoOne and NoTwo didn’t even stop- they merely crossed the barricades and entered the camp.

“Who’s in charge here?” NoOne asked in a calm, flat voice. His tone brooked no argument- he was in charge here now, for as long as they chose to stay, and the death of the kid was the quickest way to make his point. The death meant nothing to him- swatting a mosquito was as easy as pulling the trigger on any civilians. He was ruthless, and that had ensured a quick rise to the top of the food chain.

A man in a tux stepped forward, chin jutted out in defiance, and NoOne had to fight the urge to cringe back from the fool. He hated these people. What made them think they deserved to rule the land, let alone live on it? He fought back the urge to kill this jackass as well- one death made his point, two would merely be bullying, and although he didn’t give a shit either way, he had his orders. He didn’t make it to the top of the chain of command without following orders to the letter.

“I’m in charge now,” the man squeaked out, his face going pale but for two spots of color high on his fat cheeks as he looked away from the dead kid quickly. “I’m Louis, Louis Caraway. What do you want? Why did you kill Dave?”
His jowls trembled, giving away the nerves he tried to hide behind authority.

NoOne wanted nothing more than to just end him now, but instead he forced a smile onto his face, attempting to set the fat slug at ease.
“I’m sorry for that, Mr. Caraway. You see, he was aiming a gun at me, and trembling rather fiercely, and I panicked. I didn’t mean to kill him.” He saw the doubt on the man’s face, and steamrollered his way over it. “We’ve been following someone quite dangerous, you see, and we’re a bit unsure of our footing, so to speak. I greatly apologize for the loss of your man- after all, with all that’s going on, the loss of even one man is one loss too many.”

The speech seemed to decide something for the fat man, and he nodded royally, jowls swinging
as he apparently accepted every lie that fell from the man’s lips. “Well then, good sir, I believe I can help, if you’ll come this way.” He gestured with one pudgy hand towards the town bar, and NoOne and NoTwo grudgingly followed after him.

NoOne was disgusted by the fool- he was actually wearing a tuxedo, for God’s sake. And a top hat. He couldn’t possibly look more ridiculous if he’d planned it, but he could tell the man thought he was
hot shit. It was despicable, truly, to have to kowtow to this ignoramus, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

After the infection hit, and the majority of the soldiers lay dead, a search was started. The morgue on base showed the first signs- blood smears everywhere and the empty autopsy tables were clear enough.
But that wasn’t what had them on this search. The room had showed signs that someone else had been there- and that someone had taken all relevant files on the autopsy and what caused these deaths. That person had to be stopped before word spread and panic built.

“So,” NoOne said as they were seated at the filthy bar, “what information do you have for me?” He merely shook his head when Louis offered him a drink, and then fought down his nausea as the man tipped the bottle back and took a swig directly from the mouth of it before speaking.

“There was a woman here. She came by herself wearing a bookbag full of files. The former leader, Don, was a very dear friend of mine, and had been for years. Before the bitch left she murdered him and Don’s wife, leaving our community in shambles. We attempted to track her down, but were unsuccessful.” Louis sneered before tipping the bottle back and drinking again, this time more heavily.

NoOne felt a tremor of excitement run through him at the words. This was the lead they’d been seeking. This had to be the bitch who’d escaped the plague back in Delaware. “Describe her to me,” he ordered, and then smiled winningly when he realized he had the man’s back up.
“It’s important- she’s responsible for the deaths of many people,” he lied.

When they left the community an hour later, they had all the information they needed to search for the woman- well, everything but her name. No one seemed to know it, or at least they didn’t remember it if they’d ever known it. But they had her description as well as the direction she was heading, and that was one Hell of a fine start. She’d be theirs in a matter of days, NoOne thought with satisfaction. And then they’d have the documents, anything else she knew, and anyone she’d come in contact with. And then? Well, in this new, tragic world, who would be left to miss her?

Nadine had found it- she’d entered the town and was only ten miles from the cabin Ryan had talked about in his notebook. She was beyond excited. Weeks of dodging the undead and looking over her shoulder for the members of the camp she’d so hastily escaped from had left her twitchy and exhausted. It would be wonderful to have a place she could relax, and maybe even deliver the baby that weighed her down.

She knew under ordinary circumstances she’d have loved being pregnant. She could see herself in the home she’d so lovingly made her own. She’d decorate the nursery, fill it with all the baby items her child would need. She’d frame her sonogram pictures, and debate for hours whether or not to find out the sex of the baby she carried. Graham would be with her, winding his way through the slippery slopes of impending parenthood as she was. There would be love, laughter, and the kicks of their child as they filled the dresser drawers with tiny clothes, as they stocked the changing table with miniature diapers.

Instead, she dealt with heartburn and hemorrhoids, and the kicking of the baby at inopportune times, like while she scaled a fence or fled from a horde. This was her life now, and she was alone. Even if she teamed up with Ryan, she would be alone, and lonely.
There was nothing for her to do now but suck it up and move on. And try to stay alive- yeah, that was probably the more important goal of the two.

A sound behind her scared the Hell out of her, as she couldn’t immediately place it. It was like wind through an empty building- both familiar and terrifying in this strange new world. When it dawned on her, when she figured out the sound was coming from a vehicle that was rapidly drawing down on her, she gave in to instinct and dove into the brush, praying wholeheartedly that there was no threat in her refuge. Nadine didn’t understand why the sound of the motor was so unnerving, but she knew that gut instincts were not to be ignored with the world the way it was.
Even Jonesy was disturbed, growling low in his throat as he pressed his body tight against her.

Confusion settled over her as she climbed to her feet and ran, full out, through the woods
, the dog keeping pace with her. The vehicle was military, and that should have been a comfort to her, but she also knew that this whole fucking mess had started with them. She couldn’t fall back on habit now, blindly trusting that they would make everything all right again. The military specialized in CYA tactics- they covered their asses above all else. Somehow she understood that this meant she would be dead, without hesitation. Or perhaps she’d just be imprisoned for treason, although she’d not done anything to deserve it. Whatever the end result, she needed to reach that cabin, and she needed to find out what awaited her once she reached it. For all she knew, they’d find Ryan there and snatch him up. Not that she could do anything about that, either, she thought with some regret. But she needed to know, and she wouldn’t find anything out cowering in the woods, waiting to become some freak’s next meal.

She didn’t know how long it took, but
they made the trek through the forest much quicker than she’d expected to, one arm held out in front of her like a football player running for a touchdown, the other arm curled protectively under her protruding belly to prevent doing any damage to herself or the baby. Before the adrenaline wore off, she scrambled up a tree, far enough away from the cabin to prevent being seen, but close enough that she could see through the branches. She needed to know the lay of the land before she put herself in harm’s way. After all, she didn’t even know Ryan- she didn’t owe him a damned thing. Her only goal was safety for herself and her unborn child. If he died or was captured? Well, she’d be very sorry for him, but that wouldn’t change a thing, really.

She immediately felt guilty as the list of advantages popped into her head. His place was supposed to be well supplied, and those items would come in handy for her and for Jonesy, who was guarding the base of the tree she sat in. She and the dog were hungry,
and food was in short supply. The fewer mouths to feed, the better. But she sighed, knowing she’d only have shelter because of him- if there was something she could do to prevent his suffering at the hands of the people in the Humvee, well, she’d do it.

She had binoculars around her neck, scavenged along the way, and lifted them to her eyes. Coolly, she watched the scene in front of her- two bruisers in camo were tearing the place apart. She didn’t know what they were looking for. Hell, maybe they were looking for Ryan, she reasoned, and they were tearing the place apart because they couldn’t find him. But then… where was he? She supposed he’d died on the way here- it wasn’t surprising. The only surprise these days was how many people were still alive.

An hour later, the interior in tatters, the men climbed back into the Humvee and headed back the direction they’d come from. She watched them until they turned onto a side road, and then climbed slowly from the tree. She patted Jonesy, giving him the last of a strip of dried meat she’d found and kept for him as treats. The meat was too tough for her, and chewing it made her jaw ache, so she used it as a reward for his good behavior. Stretching, she prepared to make her way closer. Then men hadn’t taken any supplies with them as they left, so she assumed that meant it was either empty, or they hadn’t been interested in anything they’d found.

Cautiously, she
crawled through the overgrown grass. She couldn’t get used to it, even all these months later. The jungle was taking over an area once overpopulated, and she feared that people were going the way of the dinosaurs- extinct. Still, she wasn’t done yet, damnit, and as long as there was something to live for, she’d fight tool and nail for her survival- and the survival of the life she and Graham had made together.

She crept up onto the small porch, opening the door even as
she winced at the squeal of the hinges. She shut the door behind her, grateful for the daylight that made it possible for her to see the interior. She looked around, sinking to her knees as she took it all in. The men hadn’t scavenged because there was nothing here to take. The fucking cabin Ryan had written of was depressingly empty. The whole journey, all her effort, had all been for nothing.

Nadine was exhausted. All these weeks, all these months, all that fucking work… it was all for nothing. She was tired of all these highs and lows she’d been riding. First there was the thrill of the unknown, then the fear of starvation. She found food, and then thought she had a friend… until she’d become zombie chow. And just when she thought she’d be okay, knowing there was a place to go, and then finding out the place was empty? Not just of people, but actual supplies to scavenge. God, her gun was just looking more and more appealing.

She curled up with the dog, whining and licking at the tears as they poured down her face.
She was so desperately sick of being alone. Okay, she silently corrected as the dog curled up tight at her side, offering comfort. Perhaps she wasn’t alone, but she was so very lonely. She knew it was stupid, but she’d built up this image of this strong, intelligent man who would help keep her and her unborn baby safe, and now it all fell down around her. She didn’t need a man, God knew, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. And she would be pretty helpless after her delivery, after all. Now she would remain helpless, and have not only herself but a baby and a dog that depended on her.

Her tears dried up and instinct took over as a shuffling sound from beneath her penetrated her gloomy musings. She wasn’t alone in the house after all, but she didn’t know if that meant friend, foe or undead, slobbering creature from the depths of Hell. She rolled her eyes- she’d been alone entirely too long if this was how her train of thought ran these days. Taking her
knife in hand, she moved as quietly as possible through the house, searching for the sound that had caught her attention.

The noise came again as she searched the kitchen, and she ran the thin beam of a pen light around the room, searching for a way downstairs. It took nearly an hour, and she might have given up had there not been light drifting out from behind the refrigerator. It took her a bit of time to realize there was a door behind the fridge, and the fridge itself was on casters. Mindful of her condition, she tugged gently on it, and was rewarded with a shifting of the wall.

Sweat dripped down her face, and rivulets of it ran down her aching back. It was mid-June after all, and air conditioning was merely a dream. At nearly 27 weeks gestation, Nadine’s center of gravity was way off, and the effort it took for her to move to fridge was more than she thought she was capable of at this point. But someone was down there in that cannily hidden basement. The phantom noises, her own instincts, and Jonesy sniffing around were enough to convince her that someone was down there. The questions remained the same wherever she went. Alive or undead? Friend or foe? She kept her weapon ready, knowing that she wouldn’t have much time to be certain once she made it down the steep flight of stairs.

The room below was lit, and that told her this house still had power- definitely a luxury these days.
Ryan had said the place had a generator- this had to be what kept the place running, although whomever was below was smart enough to keep the power shut off to the upper portion of the cabin. She tightened her grip on the hilt of the combat knife she’d managed to scavenge on her journey, and kept her breathing shallow so as not to make any more noise than necessary.

And cursed roundly under her breath when the stairs creaked beneath her ever-growing weight.
So much for the element of surprise,
she thought with disgust. Nothing she could do about it now, so she announced her presence. “If you’re Ryan Sawyer, my name is Nadine Chesterfield. I found the note you’d left behind with instructions on how to get here. I am armed, but will keep my weapon visible. It’s for my own safety, so if you have a gun, please don’t shoot. I’m pregnant,” she said, speaking as she descended. When she reached the bottom, she saw the disheveled man holding a pistol, carefully aimed at the staircase as he patiently watched her out of cool green eyes.

Her first thought was highly ridiculous. His black hair was thick and slightly curled from the humidity, and the eyes were amazing. All she could think was
‘yummy’
and be grateful that she retained enough common sense to prevent her from saying it aloud. Then the guilt hit as she remembered Graham, and her unoccupied hand wrapped possessively around her stomach, cradling the baby as though he or she was already in her arms.

The man spoke, his cultured voice calm and even. “I am PFC Ryan Sawyer. If you’re willing to put up the combat knife you’re carrying, I’ll set my pistol aside. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’d rather you stayed by the stairs for the time being, all right?” His face showed strain and fatigue, and she nodded without hesitation. “The men, the ones who were just here?”

“Gone,” she said simply, and relief edged away some of the strain that had been there moments before, making him appear younger. Then doubt and fear warred for control, and finally gave way to a kind of cynical study.

“Is that so? And how can you be sure?” He raised the pistol and cocked it in one quick movement, so rapidly that she was blinking, unable to process the speed. But the weapon was pointed towards the head of the stairs, not at her, and she tensed, drawing her knife and spinning around as she heard someone descending from the dark void of the upper floor.

A small sound made Nadine squeak out in relief. “It’s all right, it’s okay, Ryan. That’s Jonesy, that’s my dog.” She babbled, afraid he’d shoot her faithful companion. Jonesy cowered behind her legs as if sensing the danger he, if not his new master, was in. Nadine just stared Ryan down until he lowered the muzzle and flicked the safety back in place. Only then did she slowly lower herself to sit on the bottom step and snuggle up with Jonesy while she answered his question. “I was perched in a tree watching them through binoculars as they ransacked the upper level. I waited until they left before approaching. I had a clear view of the road, and they headed west after leaving here.”

Ryan took it all in and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He started to speak, and then appeared to give something a great deal of thought. “You can come closer. You’re safe here.” He set the pistol down to let her know he was no threat, and she once more replaced the knife in the scabbard she’d fashioned for it. “How far along are you?” he asked, tilting his head to acknowledge her advancing pregnancy.

Nadine moved closer, studying him as she did so, keeping her movements slow so as not to spook him. He was wearing only a tank top to cover his upper body, and tight-fitting workout shorts over his lower half, giving a clear picture of the muscle definition he had. This was a man who worked hard to maintain his body, speaking loudly to his determination and discipline. Her casual once-over had her pausing halfway across the room as she studied him again. Without blinking, she pulled her knife, pointing at him as she backed away.

On one bicep was a circular patch of rotted tissue, the impression of a puncture evident. He’d received the shot, she thought with dismay.
And at the wrist, two clear imprints were visible in the torn and ragged flesh. Not only had he been vaccinated, but he’d been bitten as well.