The Dark Trinity (Book 1): Shuffle (20 page)
DOBBS
The two friends had been sitting on the roof for over an hour,
not sure what to do about the other zombies who hunted them. Ronnie would leer
over the ledge to see what the search parties were up to. While he focused on
the streets, Nathan kept a vigilant watch on the rooftops around them. The
creatures didn’t seem all that smart, but they didn’t appear to be completely
stupid either. It would only be a matter of time before they got wise and
started checking the skyline.
It had been thirty-five minutes since they last saw anything
on the street and nothing had come up to their level. The pair decided that
they needed to keep moving, since a stationary target was easier to find than
one that was roaming. They went to the far side of their roof and down into the
alley.
Nathan had suggested they go down to street level, since
there would be more hiding places down there. Although faster, the roof offered
little to no cover. That made them much more vulnerable to both the dead-heads
that hunted them and any military that might patrol the air.
“Alright, we go slow, keep alert, and above all else, keep
quiet,” Nathan said as he peered around the corner into the deserted street.
“No worries, man,” Ronnie whispered back.
They made their way out into the ravaged street. Bodies, or
at least parts of bodies, littered the road like discarded trash. The sound of
war permeated the cold night air from the many pockets of conflict that raged
within the metro area. Screams and wails from the dying infected resonated in
the distance. Mingling with the sound of the dead was the sound of the dying;
humans devoured by the diseased. The symphony of death assaulted Nathan’s ears
and he tried to tune out the barrage.
Every seventy-five feet or so, they would stop and duck
behind a car or building to check for pursuers. So far, they were making good
time and covering a decent amount of ground. They continued on down the street,
away from the city towards the West End. There was a bridge there that led to
the north shore of the Ohio River. If they could get across, then they’d be
about halfway home.
As they neared an intersection, a Marine emerged from the
left, staggering into the middle of the four way junction. He was alone,
shaking, and terrified.
Must have gotten separated from his unit,
Nathan
thought. With his enhanced eyesight, Nathan could see the word
"Dobbs" stamped on his BDUs.
The lone soldier turned to his right and faced Nathan and
Ronnie, who had stopped in their tracks. For a brief moment, they merely stared
at each other. Dobbs looked at Nathan. Nathan looked at Dobbs. Dobbs looked at
Ronnie. Ronnie looked at Nathan. Nathan looked at Ronnie. Ronnie and Nathan
looked at Dobbs. The enlisted man freaked out and raised the pistol in his
hand. He screamed and fired off a clip at Nathan.
“Shit, dude! Wait!” Nathan exclaimed, holding up his arms in
a peaceful gesture as two of the eight slugs embedded into his chest.
The soldier was now shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to
reload a new clip into his pistol.
“Wait man, we’re not going to hurt you!” Nathan pleaded. He
held up his hands to show the shell-shocked marine that he wasn’t a threat. Two
mangled bullets popped out of his chest as his body began to heal the gunshot
wounds. The young leatherneck paused and stared at the two zombies standing in
the middle of the deserted street. A look of fear and confusion contorted his
face as he watched the holes in Nathan’s chest close.
“Wha...Why are you talking? How can you be talking? You
things can’t talk,” Dobbs stammered, his gun lowering as he tried to process
and assess the situation.
Nathan took a small, cautious step forward, keeping his hands
high in the air. “I don’t know why we can still communicate, but for whatever
reason, we haven’t completely changed like the others. We’ve been feeding on
rats and birds; we don’t want to eat or hurt anybody. I’m just trying to find
my family. Can you help us?”
The Specialist’s gun raised back to eye level when Nathan
stepped forward. “How do I know this isn’t a trick? If I let my guard down,
you’ll eat me the first chance you get.”
Ronnie stood silent and looked back and forth between Dobbs
his friend as they talked. Movement caught his eye on the cross street, about
fifty feet beyond the solder. It moved fast and ducked out of his field of view
before he could get a good look. Turning to his right, another shadow ducked
out of sight further down the cross street. He moved his attention to the tops
of the surrounding buildings. Countless shapes and figures lurked in the
darkness. His enhanced heat vision lit up everywhere he looked. The rooftops
were ablaze in the red aura of the dead.
“Um, guys, I think we better...” Ronnie started, but Nathan
cut him off before he could get the warning out.
“Hold on buddy, I think we’re making progress here.”
“Yeah, but...” This time Dobbs broke him off.
“So you want a truce, is that right?” he asked Nathan
“Yeah, that’s right.”
The man lowered his gun again, still focused on the two
creatures before him. “And what do I get if I help you?”
Nathan pondered this for a second before answering.
“Protection. Our eyesight allows us to see the ones like us, even in the dark.
Plus, if we encounter any obstacles along the way that might hurt you, we can
take care of them, no problem.”
“Guys, I hate to crash your little love-fest here, but you
really need to listen to me!” Ronnie interjected. Nathan turned to Ronnie, who
was getting pretty agitated. The Marine took three slow steps towards his new
allies.
“Alright, we’ll call it a truce for the time being, but so
help me God, if you try anything I’ll scramble your brains so fast you’ll...”
Nathan and Ronnie watched as a blur slammed into an unaware
Specialist Dobbs and carry him into the shadows further down the street. A
fine, red mist lingered airborne for a moment where the soldier once stood.
Nathan saw the red glowing aura of other zombies in the direction of the doomed
corpsman. Realizing that there were other ghouls around, Nathan circled and
examined both the street and buildings for potential threats. Now he understood
why Ronnie was getting so damn antsy. Surrounded and overwhelmingly
outnumbered, the two friends stood back-to-back.
Behind them, further down the street, the dead rained down
from the rooftops like suicide jumpers. With total disregard for their own
bodies and well-being, they hurled themselves onto the street below. An ungodly
crunching resounded as bones snapped from the impact. The injured creepers
crawled towards their prey, their mangled legs already started the healing
process as more of the Horde fell upon them.
More dead warriors emerged from the wrecked cars along the
street. Figures moved from alleyways and filtered out into the road. They all
advanced slowly, but at a steady pace. They appeared to be waiting to see what
the two were going to do before they gave chase. Noises from the intersection
had told Nathan that the hunters flanked their sides. Options for escape were
dwindling at an alarming rate.
“You got a plan homie?” Ronnie asked, the nervousness in his
voice not completely disguised by his tough-guy facade.
“Well, not really,” Nathan replied. “I mean, we could try to
find a thin spot in their ranks and fight our way through; maybe get us an
opening so we can run away.”
“You know me, bro. I’m never one to back down from a fight,
but I doubt we’re gonna get out of this without getting pretty messed up,”
Ronnie observed.
It was nice to know that their current tactical situation
wasn’t lost on his friend. Ever since he caught Ronnie gnawing on that arm, he
worried that his cognitive function might start to slip.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Nathan whispered. “You
see that bar over there to our right?”
Ronnie followed his gaze to the small dive bar only twenty
feet away.
“Yeah, I gotcha homes.”
The advancing dead gained ground, but remained steady in
their pace. If they went now, they’d be able to make it to the bar.
“Alright, on the count of three, we bolt,” Nathan instructed.
“One. Two. Three.”
The instant he uttered the last number, the pair jolted into
a flurry of action. The approaching zombies immediately sprang to life, closing
the distance between them and the duo. Nathan and Ronnie reached the door to
the bar and gave the knob a turn. Locked. Firming up his grip on the handle, he
tried again and applied more pressure. The locking mechanism inside the knob crumbled
at the strength Nathan exerted and the latch gave way.
They piled into the empty bar and closed the door behind
them. Ronnie ran to a giant jukebox which sat against the wall close by while
Nathan braced the door with his body. A moment later, dozens of the dead
slammed upon the bar door, jolting him forward. Ronnie slid the jukebox over to
the door, plowing tables and chairs aside in the process. Nathan spun out of
the way as the heavy jukebox slammed up against the entrance.
“This ain’t gonna keep ‘em out for long, brotha,” Ronnie
noted.
Nathan looked over the door, searching. Then, relief struck
as he saw a slew of various locks at the top and bottom of the door. He threw
the deadbolts and chain-locks in place, six in all. He also looked to see if there
were any windows along the storefront and thankfully, there were none.
“Jesus Christ, it’s about time we catch a break!” Nathan
gasped as the pair stood and caught their breath as the growing mob of decay
outside assaulted the little hole-in-the-wall pub.
The unmistakable click of a handgun sounded behind them.
Nathan dropped his head and sighed.
“Aw, fuck.”
GOTCHA
Sunshine stood high above the Fort Pitt Tunnel entrance.
Images danced before her eyes. An empty street. A soldier. Blood—so much blood.
And two men, surrounded on all sides by her children. They had found her
target. The pictures flashed before her like a high speed camera. The two
soon-to-be captives made their way towards a nearby building, managed to get
the door open, and escaped their pursuers.
Bodies amassed in front of the door, filling the street. Her
children scaled the walls of the building, probing for a way inside. Flickering
firelight from the burning wreckage caused the building to appear as though it
were breathing; the dead undulated up the sides in rippling waves. The refuge
that her mark had found would only provide a temporary reprieve from the
inevitable onslaught that was about to ensue. She would finally have her prize.