The Dark Trilogy (52 page)

A small group of undead appeared at the entrance of the alley. They sniffed the air as they came, drawn forward by the rich coppery scent of Frank’s blood. The one at the front of the pack raised its head and caught sight of Michael at the opposite end of the narrow passageway. For a moment, their eyes locked. Michael felt an icy finger sliding down his back, and he blinked. When his eyes opened, the dead man was focused on the fallen form of Frank, which was far closer. Michael watched for a couple more seconds, certain that something had passed between him and the ghoul. Whatever it was, it made him feel more discomfort than fear, as if the wretched creature somehow knew he had betrayed Frank, and had judged him for it.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned, fleeing as quickly as his wounded ankle would allow. He had exaggerated his injury to fool Frank, but it still hurt mightily. After running the knife blade along his pants to get rid of Frank’s blood, Michael sheathed the weapon at his wrist.

*

Frank watched as Michael’s form diminished. He wasn’t in shock, but his thoughts were getting fuzzy. The pain had been incredible at first, but there was a numbness creeping into his belly and ankle as more blood flowed away from his open wounds. That helped keep him from crying out in agony, which was good. Tears still blurred his vision, and he knew he had to figure out a way to get back on his feet. He had to drag his sorry ass down the alley and follow Michael before any of those flesh-craving lunatics found him. As his fingers dragged along the dirty concrete in an effort to gain purchase, he tried to blot those horrific bastards out of his mind.

I won’t die. I can make it. If I can get back on my feet, I can limp along. The gut wound isn’t so bad. I just need to get stitched up. Lydia will do it for me when I find her.

Frank’s wet fingers slid into a mortared groove between two bricks on the wall, and he tried pulling himself up once again. When his fingers slipped and he fell back to the ground, a small whimper escaped his lips.
I’ll get back to the others and they’ll help me! They have to!
A small sound like a hiccup escaped his lips as he grinned.

“They’ll take me back. They’ll forgive me for abandoning them,” he insisted aloud.

The only response he got was an excited moan from behind where he lay on the ground. Frank hiccupped again, laughter trying to force its way to the surface. He couldn’t go any farther. He was stuck, and someone was coming for him. There was a small desire to turn and look, to see who it was. He wanted to believe it was Lydia. Dear, sweet old Lydia. She would comfort him, take care of his wounds like she took care of everyone else who’d been hurt. She wouldn’t care that he had run off with Michael and left them behind to suffer and die. She was too much of a saint to hold a grudge.

The moans grew louder, and Frank finally understood. He wanted to ask God for forgiveness; he wanted to pray for some sort of redemption. But instead, he felt rage building inside as the sound grew louder. He could hear awkward footsteps sliding along the hard surface of the pavement. They were getting close. Only a few seconds left to live, and Frank knew he still had a choice. He could ask for forgiveness and hope for a charitable God to grant it, or he could continue to think about Michael. The unholy bastard had hamstrung him and hadn’t just left him to die; he’d left him as bait.

There were more footsteps dragging closer. Too many to count. A whole army. That was when Frank made up his mind. He screamed again, the rage outweighing any terror he felt. It was not some high-pitched wail that escaped his lungs, but a single word repeated again and again for whoever remained in this wretched world to hear.

Even as the monsters tore into him, ripping his flesh and rending his bones, he screamed, howling his curse on blood-flecked lips until he could scream no more.

*

Michael had made it a block when Frank’s first scream pierced the muggy air. He stopped and looked back at the gap between the two buildings he’d just escaped. There weren’t any bodies tumbling out in pursuit.

The plan had worked. Frank’s immobile form had been too much of a lure for the mob to pass up. As another scream burst forth from the alleyway, Michael knew his crony would keep the ghouls occupied for a while.

The screams grew higher in pitch and then cut off abruptly. Satisfied, Michael continued down the road. He made it a few more feet before Frank screamed out again.

“Miiiiichaaaaaaaeeeeeeel!”

Even as the dying man’s ragged voice faltered, he continued to shout. Michael could not outdistance the sound, even as it turned into one long, final scream that never seemed to end.

He limped along as fast as he could, a small whimper escaping his lips as he realized what he had done.

Now he was truly alone.

Chapter 6

Ben frowned as he scanned the area. He had just stepped outside through the broken windshield to get an idea of how much trouble they were in. He and George had already hoisted Jeff over the back wall, and the two other men were dealing with the women and children still inside the bedroom.

They were in the center of Manchester’s small downtown area, surrounded by shops and office buildings. Ben saw the pile of cars that Michael had been forced to dodge, which had sent them skidding into the curb. But it wasn’t what he saw that bothered him; it was what he heard. The howls of the infected. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the first of them on the street. As he surveyed the neighborhood, he saw more coming. There wasn’t much time.

Moving with purpose, Ben went back inside the RV. George and Jeff had just lifted Teddy’s unconscious body over the bedroom wall with Lydia’s and Megan’s help. Jason, who had a huge gash on his forehead, was straddling the barrier and assisting them as best he could.

Ben performed a rapid evaluation of the two men standing before him. George was the bigger and stronger of the two and looked like a linebacker who could probably plow through a pile of stiffs like they were nothing. Jeff was physically average and didn’t strike Ben as the athletic type. He was just another soft suburbanite. Yet it was clear that there was more to Jeff than that. The end of the world had changed the man. That was apparent from the way he had stood up to Michael and stuck with Ray even when the boy had been as good as dead.

Making his decision, Ben stepped forward.

Grabbing Jeff by the arm, he pulled him out of earshot. After a few seconds of furtive whispering, Jeff nodded and scooped up the baseball bat lying at his feet. They made their way outside.

“Holy shit,” was all Jeff could think to say as he saw the bodies pouring out of the buildings surrounding them.

“How long do we have?”

“A couple minutes at the most.” Ben saw the fear on Jeff’s face morph into grim determination and knew he had made the right choice.

“You do it. I’m going to get started.” Ben moved away, but turned back to say one last thing. “Don’t take too long. Just tell them to get the hell out of here and find someplace to hole up. Whichever way they go, head in the opposite direction. I’ll find them, wherever they go.”

And he was off, whooping and hollering as he charged into a group of staggering forms, bowling them over. Jeff watched in amazement as Ben kept running, his wild movements and bellowing voice drawing attention from every cloudy eye in the area.

Jeff’s heart pounded as he scrambled back inside the RV. He was relieved to see that everyone was out of the bedroom and George already had Teddy’s unconscious form over his shoulder.

George gave him a questioning look, but Jeff ignored it as he faced Megan. As he closed the distance between them, she smiled. Her expression changed as she saw the look on his face.

“Take the kids and find someplace to hide.”

The words hit Megan like a ton of bricks. Jeff grabbed her hands. “I’m going to try and lure away as many of those things as I can from.”

Megan’s eyes widened as she heard the sounds from the street. Everyone else was coming to the same dark revelation. The crash had been so traumatic that no one had the time to think about anything other than getting out of the smashed-up RV, until now.

“How many of them are there out there?” Lydia asked.

Jeff gave her a bleak look that told her everything she needed to know. She had Sadie in her arms, and Nathan and Joey clung to her, dazed and frightened as they stared at Jeff. Everyone could hear the howls and cries of rage building in volume as the undead that hadn’t been distracted by Ben’s antics drew closer to the RV.

Jeff dragged Megan forward, and the rest followed them until she set her feet and stopped him. “Wait a minute! You can’t just leave us! This is insane.”

Jeff turned to her, his eyes sad. “Ben’s already left. He lured away as many as he could, but it’s not enough. I have to do this.”

Megan shook her head, tears flowing as she gripped Jeff’s hands tighter. She tried tugging him back inside the RV, but he resisted and pulled her toward the broken windshield.

“Everyone outside now. Megan and I will be there in a couple of seconds.”

Jeff gave a pleading look to George, who nodded solemnly. The older man herded the others outside, urging them forward as several sets of eyes remained on Megan and Jeff.

When they were gone, Jeff turned to Megan, who was already starting to mount a new protest. “Megan. Megan! Listen to me! If I don’t do this, we’ll all die. Do you understand me? But if I can get those bastards’ attention, you’ll have a fighting chance.”

Jeff had a tight grip on her shoulders, and when Megan shook her head, he squeezed them until she stopped and stared up at him, her eyes wide with panic.

“You need to pull yourself together. Please! Do it for Jason and the children. Do it for me!”

Jeff’s eyes burrowed into Megan, and she stared blankly in response. When he shook her roughly, she was able to blink and then nodded. Not giving her a chance to change her mind, Jeff yanked her outside. He pushed the stunned woman toward George, who wrapped his free arm around her before going back to staring at what was happening around them.

Ben had left a wake of bodies following his trail. Jeff could no longer see the big man, but it was obvious which street he had taken from the movements of the crowd. His heart sank as he saw the mass of bodies still surging toward the little group of survivors. Gripping his bat, he turned to the others.

Teddy had regained consciousness, and George and Jason were supporting his weight. He looked groggy and was the only person not staring at Jeff. Lydia had the children calmed down and seemed prepared for whatever she had to deal with. As Jeff’s eyes moved toward Jason, he could tell the kid was putting on a brave face. It heartened Jeff as he looked back at George, who nodded in return. George understood what had to be done, that he was now the group’s guardian. Jeff silently mouthed the words ‘thank you,’ and George gave him a sad smile. Finally, Jeff turned back to Megan. She looked miserable and angry and didn’t speak as she glowered at him, her blue eyes icy.

“Get out of here,” he said. He pointed at a street that appeared to be clear of shambling bodies. “Head down that way and try to find a place to hide out.” Megan’s expression softened as she realized he was serious about leaving them.

Jeff backed up. “I’m going to lead as many of them away as I can. Now move!” He started to jog in the opposite direction from the one in which he had pointed. Several staggering ghouls took notice and shifted away from the stationary group. Jeff’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a devious grin. Gripping the bat loosely, he picked up speed and took off running.

The last thing Megan and the others heard Jeff say as he rushed the horde was, “Find someplace safe to hide! I’ll find you! I swear to God I’ll find you!”

Then he gave a loud war whoop as he swung his bat at a ghoul reaching out to grab him.

Chapter 7

George took the lead, ushering everyone away from the wreckage. They could smell the diesel fumes as they moved past the rear of the RV. The tank was cracked, and fuel flowed beneath their feet.

As they moved away from the intersection, George found a stout piece of wood that had been part of a doorframe, and Jason, following suit, found a slender piece of metal in a pile of crunched-up glass. Teddy, who was coming around, joined in and picked up a few chunks of pitted metal and rocks light enough to throw.

They moved north, up the road Jeff had recommended. He had lured most of the stray infected with him in the opposite direction, and their path was clear for the moment.

The small group was in the heart of town, with streets flowing in all directions. They were surrounded by buildings and storefronts for several blocks. As they moved, Lydia managed to keep the children calm and quiet by suggesting they make a game of it. Whoever could remain quiet the longest won. They were still terrified, but it served as a good enough distraction to keep them from crying out.

Megan suppressed her anger and disbelief at what Jeff had done as her survival instincts kicked in. She kept Nathan and Joey next to her, relieving a grateful Lydia of the burden of tending to them as George and the two older boys walked ahead, scouting in silence.

The survivors soon turned down a side street with several free-standing buildings—offices, boutiques, and a couple of chain restaurants. The area appeared abandoned, and George suggested that they move a few more blocks away from the RV before picking a place to hide.

It was not long after George spoke that they heard the first shots. The sounds echoed off the buildings making it hard to pinpoint their source. Everyone froze. There was no movement nearby, so after a few moments, George urged everyone to get going again.