The Dark Trilogy (57 page)

Michael’s lips moved, but he couldn’t do anything more than shape the word ‘No’ silently.

“George might not be able to kill you, but I sure as hell can.”

The first shot struck Michael’s cheek. He reached up to touch the spot where the hole was, not quite sure what had happened, his head still shaking in denial. The second shot tore through his throat, and the small bullet lodged in his spine, paralyzing him from the neck down. Before he fell, there was a third shot, which punched a hole in his upper dental plate, shattering two of his incisors as the bullet plowed at an upward trajectory through his sinus cavity. As Michael dipped toward the floor, the fourth shot struck him in the forehead, the bullet lodging in his brain and forcing all mental activity to cease. At the same time, Michael blinked twice, and his mouth remained open, shaped in a final ‘O’ of disbelief. The last two shots in the clip slammed into the dead man’s body as he lay on the ground.

Jeff didn’t realize the gun that had been buried in the front pocket of his jeans for the past few days was empty until he heard several dry clicks. When he did, he dropped the weapon on Michael’s motionless corpse. He continued to stare at the body for the next few seconds, trying to comprehend what he’d just done.

Several loud howls from outside put an end to his reverie. The infected army was on the move. They had a new direction to head after hearing the shots, which would lead them directly to the bank. He shifted his eyes away from the body, which was preventing the outer doors of the bank from closing.

George continued gawking at Jeff. The man showed no signs of stress or trauma. In fact, he looked downright serene. His hands, which had gripped a pistol and pulled the trigger over and over again, sinking bullet after bullet into Michael, weren’t shaking.

“How could you do it? How could you kill him?” George’s eyes were red with grief, and his voice was tinged with wonder. Jeff could detect the revulsion underneath, and wiped the sweat away from his forehead before answering as best he could.

“It was better than he deserved.”

It was all he could say. He was too tired to argue, too exhausted to care what George thought of him at the moment. He knew exactly what he had done and was certain the guilt over his actions would gnaw at him plenty if he ever gave it a chance. But for now, all he wanted to focus on was finding the others, if they were still alive, and getting the hell out of this godforsaken town once and for all.

George hesitated a couple more seconds before taking Jeff’s hand and letting him pull him to his feet. He closed his eyes as he stepped over Michael’s body. For Jeff, George’s willingness to reach out to him after what he’d done wasn’t absolution for his sins, but it was close enough.

There was despair in George’s eyes as he spoke. “Michael said Cindy is still alive. He said she doubled back to the RV after they left.” He paused, the words like lead in his mouth. “I had to leave the others behind. I tried to give them a chance to get away when we were attacked. And now Cindy is after them.”

“Do you think he was lying? George! Was he lying to you? Maybe just trying to fuck with your head?”

George shrugged, his eyes swimming in confusion. “I’m not … I’m not sure.” He looked at Jeff. “But I don’t think so.”

Jeff frowned as his mind raced with nightmarish possibilities. He had heard screams before—screams that came from the throat of someone dying. Now, after finding Michael and ending his miserable life, he had let himself believe for a moment that he was done with the man’s twisted entourage. Hearing that Cindy might still be alive was like taking a sucker punch to the gut.

The sun was heading west in the sky. It would be dusk in an hour or so, and then they would be blind until morning … if they managed to survive until then. Somehow, Jeff doubted Megan and the others would be able to make it that long if they didn’t find them … especially before Cindy did.

He took off at a fast trot with George following, sliding between the bank and the hair salon, moving to the back of the buildings. Their first priority was to get as far away from the bank as possible.

“We have to find them. Take me to where you split up.”

George hesitated and then nodded. He wasn’t sure if he could remember where he’d pushed Megan away as he did battle with that wretched pack of ghouls. Even if he could, it wouldn’t lead them to where the other survivors were now. That could be almost anywhere.

He prayed silently as he took the lead. He wasn’t quite sure where they were going, but they had to find the others, and quick. It would be getting dark soon, and Cindy was still out there, somewhere, and she was on the hunt.

***

Not too long after the two men left the bank, others came. They crept clumsily up to the building, where they smelled fresh meat.

The body lying near the entrance still had the delicate aroma of warm flesh, though the heat was dissipating. They pushed and snapped at each other as they reached down toward Michael’s corpse. Little of his skin was exposed, though there was a pool of blood beneath his head. A young boy pulled at the flesh of the handsome man’s face while two bloated adults clawed and ripped at the clothing blocking their access to his torso and legs. They didn’t fight with the boy for the spoils as he pulled and tore at Michael’s lower lip and dipped his fingers into the already emptied left eye socket. Others joined them, and Michael’s clothes were torn away and his flesh along with it. The tender organs under the skin were yanked free, along with the thick meaty muscles from his legs and arms. The crowd of ravenous creatures scooped out his brains, chewed through his intestines and sucked the marrow from his bones.

In the end, nothing but his shredded clothing and boots marked Michael’s passing. Not even the blood, which had dripped thickly onto the pavement. It was licked clean by those who came too late to the feast.

Chapter 13

“Get upstairs with the kids. Teddy, help me move this desk in front of the office door.”

Lydia rushed to the back of the musty insurance office, ushering the children in front of her as they moved toward the stairs. The area was dark, but clear of danger. The dust was thick and covered a loveseat and the small receptionist’s desk that had a grimy monitor, keyboard, and business telephone on top of it. A calendar showing July hung on the half wall behind it next to a defunct fax machine sitting on a credenza.

Megan couldn’t believe their good fortune when she found the door to the insurance office unlocked. The office had been untouched by pillagers who had ransacked many of the stores and other businesses in town. Then again, there was nothing of real value in the place. Besides brochures explaining the benefits of auto, home, and life insurance, and the agent’s customer files, there was little to tempt someone.

A small utility closet and washroom sat at the back of the room, and stairs led to a second-floor storage area with a small window and several filing cabinets. More important, as far as Megan was concerned, was the door at the rear of the building that would serve as a quick escape route if needed.

She ushered Jason up the stairs with Lydia and the children. Megan was stern with him when he protested that he wanted to stay below and help. His elbow had swollen up, and he could only do so much with his one working arm. It was clear he was having a hard time coming to grips with losing George, but refused to admit it.

Megan and Teddy worked quietly in the shadows. The door that led to the street was made of steel, and she thought it would hold up fairly well under attack, but that wasn’t the access point into the building that worried her most.

There were two small rooms off the entry area: the insurance agent’s private office and a conference room, both with large picture windows facing the street. Megan and Teddy had already dragged the loveseat in front of the conference room door and were now sliding the desk in front of the office. If the windows were smashed in, neither piece of furniture would buy them much time, but the obstacles might give them the few precious seconds needed to make their escape out the back.

Thoughts of panic crowded Megan’s head as they maneuvered the desk into place. She had resisted the urge to break down crying, but it was becoming ever more difficult to hold back the scream that threatened to burst free from her lungs.

“Thank you.”

Megan looked over at Teddy. The teenager was wrung out, and his eyes were dull, but he made an effort to smile at her as he spoke.

She shook her head, feeling wretched about herself. “What are you thanking me for? I haven’t done anything worth being grateful for lately.”

Megan regretted the words as they came out, hearing the bitterness in her tone. She knew she sounded whiny and defensive, as if daring the kid to disagree with her. Teddy’s eyes focused a bit as he responded.

“Don’t say that! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead.” He paused, considering. “We’d all be dead. Don’t you know that?”

The force of the words surprised Megan. Her chest hitched as she studied the boy who was barely taller than she was. For the first time, she realized how handsome he was. Despite his diminutive stature, she guessed Teddy had gotten plenty of attention from the girls at school. She smiled at him.

“Thank you.” It was a whisper as she moved her hand to the teenager’s face and caressed his cheek. His skin was hot, and there was a layer of moisture on it. They were both drenched after moving the furniture around the room. Teddy blinked and seemed to lean into her hand, relishing the human contact.

The loud banging on the front door made them jump.

Megan moved back, a startled gasp escaping her lips as she eyed the steel door. Teddy whirled, recoiling as his eyes bulged out in fear.

Again, a heavy pounding shook the doorframe. There were two loud knocks. Megan cocked her head, puzzled. The knocks were concise, measured. It didn’t sound like something one of the infected would do.

She glanced over at Teddy and could tell by the look on his face that he was feeling the same thing. His lips moved as he uttered a single word that confirmed her worst nightmare.

“Cindy?”

He spoke the name with both fear and reverence. Megan didn’t nod in response, as if by doing so she would provide the last component to whatever dark spell was being cast on them. When the door vibrated again with the sound of desperate knocking, they both jumped a second time.

“Megan? Is that you in there? They’re coming for me! Please! They’re not far behind. I DON’T WANT TO DIE LIKE THIS! Please … I’m sorry for everything I did to you. You have to believe me! Please, God!”

Megan shrank back as she listened to Cindy’s tear-choked scream. The banging grew louder and echoed through the office. Megan put her hands over her ears and then dropped them. Ignoring the pleas wouldn’t make them go away.

The twelve year old stepped backwards, almost stumbling with shock at the anger in Megan’s voice. Her blue eyes glowed with rage.

“Get up there and stay put, do you understand me? Do NOT come back down here again!”

Jason nodded and practically flew up the steps.

Megan turned back to the door, the brief interaction with Jason helping to jar her out of the near-catatonia-inducing fear taking hold of her. Cindy was still banging on the door, and Megan walked toward it with Teddy behind her.

“What’re you going to do?”

Megan cursed under her breath and leaned against the wall, her eyes level with the door. She watched it vibrate from Cindy’s efforts. She could hear the ghouls getting closer.

“Megan, please! I am soooooo sorry! I don’t want to die.”

There was a sudden pause, and the banging on the door stopped. Megan lifted her head up off the wall, wondering if Cindy had decided to run. The howls and catcalls were getting louder, closer.

“They’re almost here! You have to let me in, NOW!”

Megan looked at Teddy and saw the pain in his eyes. Never had she heard such terror in someone’s voice, and the look on the boy’s face made it clear that he was scared for Cindy, no matter what kind of person she was. Besides, if Cindy really wanted in, she could simply smash one of the picture windows and climb inside.

Megan swallowed hard as she reached for the doorknob. She gave one last look at Teddy, who hesitated for a moment and then nodded, giving his reticent blessing.

She twisted the knob and flipped the deadbolt. The door crashed in on her, knocking her backwards as Cindy flew inside. Megan landed on the ground with a loud
oomph!
Surprised and stunned, she felt a pain in her back, but was already trying to get to her feet.

When she looked up, Megan realized what a horrible mistake she had made.

Cindy was an open wound. Glass fragments had pierced the entire left side of her face from scalp to jaw. There were other cuts and gashes on the exposed part of her neck, the red crust of dried blood mixing with the dark ink of her tattoos to create an eerie display of swirling demonic images. The white tank top she wore was in tatters, and the black bra underneath was in barely better shape. It looked as if the punker had been dragged face first across fifty yards of uneven pavement. Her grin showed several cracked and shattered teeth.