The Dark Trinity (Book 1): Shuffle (34 page)

She pulled her hand away and placed it on her lap. She saw
the cartoon panda bear on his tee shirt and the scrawled words above and below
it. A playful grin appeared on her face as she chuckled.

“That’s cute,” she teased.

Nathan looked down at his torn, blood-soaked shirt; that
penetrating smile still plastered on his mouth.

“Not much to choose from,” he replied, his words still slow
and muddled from the Sleep, although his speech was improving. He no longer
sounded like a drooling idiot. “Didn’t work anyway. Still got shot.” He winked
at her, which, despite their current condition, made him even more alluring.

A soft thumping sound interrupted the couple’s tender moment.
They turned towards the sound and saw Ronnie sitting in the seat in front of
Nathan absent-mindedly banging a large, silicone sex toy against the window. He
appeared to be swimming in his own thoughts. Nathan reached over the seat and
patted his friend on the shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

Ronnie paused before answering. “I don’t know, dude. This is
all so fucked up. Nothing makes sense anymore. Everyone we know is dead or
worse. What’s going to happen to us?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Nathan
couldn’t have summed it up better. In all honesty, he hadn’t even thought of
what would happen next. His singular goal, his mission, had been to find
Evelyn. That was all that mattered. He didn’t allow himself to contemplate what
would occur once he found her. Now they were together again and the scenarios
of the future began to populate his thoughts.

“I don’t know, brother, but whatever happens, we’ll face it
together,” Nathan reassured.

Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough to
put Ronnie at ease. This time, the former hot dog vender nodded and stared out
the window at the new Pittsburgh landscape of destruction and death.

The bus lurched to a stop.

“Hey Maalik, Bataviah,” Sam shouted. “You need to come up
here.”

The two were already moving towards the front of the bus.

“We’ve got a big problem,” Sam continued; his voice was
steady, yet his anxiety was noticeable.

Sam, Chatty, Maalik, and Bataviah peered out the windshield.
Before them, the highway was completely blocked by a collapsed overpass.
Combined with the wreckage from various military vehicles, their path was now
impeded by an impassable wall of concrete and metal. Beyond the rubble, the
broken skyline of downtown proper clawed into the sky, shrouded by an undulating
veil of smoke and flames.

“My God…” Carlos whispered as he peered out through the front
from behind Maalik and Bataviah.

The remaining humans eased up the aisle, taking in the view
of their ruined city. Even Evelyn got up to view the ruins. Only Nathan and
Ronnie stayed in their seats, having already seen first-hand the destruction.
All eyes stared in silence as they took in the scene before them.

The once gleaming skyscrapers were nothing more than skeletal
fingers reaching towards the heavens. The pristine glass facades had shattered
from the barrage of gunfire from the air strike, leaving steel girders naked
and exposed. Fires from the napalm continued to burn; the bodies of the dead
fueling the last tongues of dancing flames. Thick black smoke shrouded the
Golden Triangle in a blanket of foreboding gloom. The smell of death was
inescapable.

Bodies, limbs, and blood littered the wall of rubble before
them. There was no way around and no way through it. For the moment, their
journey had ended.

Daniel glanced at his watch. 12:37 PM. It had taken them
almost two and a half hours to drive a mere three miles. The debris, wreckage,
and creepers that they had to contend with had made their trek absurdly slow.
Panic set in.

“So now what do we do?” Daniel asked, his voice shaking. “We
are so fucked! The day is half gone and now we’re stuck here out in the open!”

“Relax, son,” Sam scolded. “Let’s not get worked up just
yet.”

“Agreed,” Maalik said. “We have options.”

“We need to backtrack and take the East Ohio Street exit,”
Bataviah interjected. “From there we can cut through the Mexican War Streets to
get to the North Shore. The stadiums are our goal.”

“I fail to see how the football and baseball stadiums are
going to be any safer than where we are now,” Carlos argued.

“You are right Mr. Moreno, the stadiums will provide no haven
for us. Regardless, that is where we must go,” Maalik rebutted.

“No way man,” Pete said. “It will take too long to cut
through the War Streets. Christ, it took us this long to make it three miles.
We don’t stand a chance!”

It was Sam’s turn to speak up. “Listen, you had said we have
options, so what are our other options?”

Unflinching, Maalik replied. “The other option is we leave
the bus, climb over this wall, and continue on foot.”

Voices sounded in protest as the group argued their next
course of action. Evelyn continued to look out the front of the bus. She
examined the wall before them, then regarded the wrecked city beyond it.

“We take the War Streets,” Evelyn declared in a forceful, yet
labored voice. Despite being more articulate than when she first turned, it was
still difficult to get the words out.

“These people came to save your lives. You will do as they
say, or you will die here,” she continued.

Everyone fell quiet, their eyes fixed on Evelyn. Chatty
turned in the driver’s seat and prepared to move the bus. A moment later he was
in reverse, attempting to perform a three point turn. Nobody argued. They all
knew deep down that their only real chance for survival was to trust the two
strangers. Two minutes later, the bus was driving the way they had come.
Luckily, the East Ohio Street exit was only a thousand feet away.

It was a little tricky making the hairpin turn at the off-ramp,
but Chatty managed to navigate the turn pretty well. The off-ramp was pretty
clear and in no time, they were at a stop sign. Turning right, the group
entered the district known as the Mexican War Streets.

Originally called The Buena Vista Tract, the War Streets used
to be the home of some of the wealthiest families in Pittsburgh during the
nineteenth century. Many of the streets in the district were named after
important battles during the Mexican-American War. Over the years the area had
degenerated into a slum and had evolved into a haven for drugs, crime, and
degenerates. Recently, redevelopment initiatives started to restore the
district to its former glory. Its Renaissance would never come to fruition. The
infection saw to that.

There was blood everywhere. Splashed upon buildings like
Jackson Pollock paintings. Like everywhere else, there was debris all around.
Telephone poles lay toppled, cars on their sides, trash cans scattered.
Suitcases were all about, some open, the last signs of a failed evacuation.

“Where are all the bodies?” Alison asked.

“Alison is right, they’re all gone,” Theresa confirmed.
“Where could they have gone?”

“Eaten,” Pete concluded. “Those fuckers ate everybody.”

“No,” Bataviah answered. “Not eaten. Taken. To fill the ranks
of the unholy army which chases us.”

“Jesus,” Sam uttered. “That’s got to be one hell of an army.”

“You can’t imagine,” Bataviah replied. “The infection has
spanned the globe. Countries have fallen. Continents lost. There is nowhere on
this planet you can go to escape their reach.”

“Except the stadiums, right?” Pete asked sarcastically. “I
mean, since that’s where we’re heading, that MUST be the only safe place on
Earth.”

“Shut up Pete, you’re not helping anything,” said Daniel.

The bus continued through the district. They were making
decent time, all things considered. They only had to double back a few times
whenever the road was blocked. Weaving around the city blocks made them feel
like rats in a maze, but they were making headway. The survivors continued to
survey the dead urban landscape as Chatty pushed the bus on through the
aftermath.

“This is weird,” Alison said as she looked out her window.
“There’s nothing out there. Nothing. Where are all those creatures? Shouldn’t
we still see some of them wandering around? You know, the ones who got stuck
out in the daylight?”

Bataviah and Maalik immediately began searching through the
windows at any sign of the walking dead. Just as Alison had observed. Nothing.

“See this as a blessing,” Bataviah said, even though she was
worried about the lack of moving corpses.

Maalik met her eyes. He was concerned as well. The fact that
none of the infected had been stuck outside during the sleep was unusual. They
couldn’t worry about that now. The number one priority was to reach the gate.
The Clan knew that they were en-route, but the Sleep prevented them from
knowing any further details. They did not know when, nor from where they would
be arriving. The good news, was that She wouldn’t know either. The Horde was
just as ignorant to their whereabouts as his kin was.

****************

Deep within her carapace of twisted bodies, Sunshine lay in
wait, anticipating the arrival of the night. Her eyes fluttered underneath her
closed eyelids. Although her body was dormant, her mind was firing rapidly. It
took all her strength to find a link. All her concentration focused on that one
goal. To see. Then, she found him.

She entered the infected’s mind; the Sleep providing the only
difficulty. Hijacking the occipital lobes of the commandeered brain, she began
to view the outside world through the eyes of her hostage. The Sleep made
everything fuzzy, yet the Queen of the Horde was still able to make everything
out.

She was sitting in a vehicle. A large one, capable of holding
dozens of people. She was holding something in her hands, banging it against
the glass next to her. Such a strange object...It was dark brown, long,
flexible, and resembled the genitals of a human male. Why did this child of
hers have this? Wait, no. This was no child of hers. Not yet anyway. He had not
yet consumed enough human meat needed to make the full conversion. That was
only a matter of time though.

Focusing her attention towards the front of the bus, she
could see several humans gathered around the driver. Some were looking out the
front while others looked out the side windows. She followed their stares out
the window next to her. She saw lines of what used to be fancy row houses, many
of which were marked with blood.

She observed street signs as they passed. Palo Alto Street,
Resaca Place, Sherman Avenue. She knew exactly where they were. She continued
to sit and observe. The bus zigzagged and backtracked to avoid obstacles in
their path, but she was able to discern the direction that they were heading.
West, towards the river. More specifically, the coliseums where the humans held
their sporting games.

Sunshine relinquished control and vacated her hostage. She
would have loved nothing more than to attack the humans while she had control
and the element of surprise, but she only had enough strength to see. That was
enough. She had their location and she knew where they were heading.

A wicked grin stretched across her face as she waited for the
Sleep to pass.

****************

“This is ridiculous!” Theresa exclaimed. “We’ve been crawling
at a snail’s pace for two hours and we’ve done nothing but go in circles!”

Daniel spoke up in agreement. “Yeah, Chatty, why don’t you
just plow straight through all this shit and get us there already?”

Chatty hated that nickname, but remained silent. Sam spoke up
before he had a chance to open his mouth and give Daniel a good tongue lashing.

“Shut your cake hole and think for a minute, genius. If we go
barreling through all this carnage, what do you think is going to happen to this
bus? What do you think could happen? Puncture the radiator? Break a belt? Or,
God forbid, bust an axle? Then what do we do, walk? You might not see ‘em now,
but you bet your Asian ass they’re out there. And they’ll get you. Unless you’re
smart. So be smart.”

“Uh… Sorry… You’re right, that was stupid for me to say,”
Daniel replied. He cursed at himself. He was way smarter than that and was
embarrassed for sounding like a complete fucktard in front of Sam.

The bus lurched forward as Chatty slammed on the brakes. The
hiss of the bus’s airbrakes sounded as everyone righted themselves. They
managed to make it through the Mexican War Streets district. They were close to
the sports stadiums which stood majestically at the confluence where the
Allegheny and Monongahela rivers formed the Ohio.

They were now on Allegheny Avenue, atop a small hill which
overlooked the North Shore. They could clearly see Heinz Field, home of the
Six-time Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers, up ahead. Before them, their
path was blocked. They saw barricades and road blocks at every intersection
leading up to the stadium.

Busses, tractor trailers, cars, and trucks mixed with sandbag
foxholes to form makeshift walls. Behind each fortification, several military
vehicles lined in formation. Mounted machine guns peppered the walls. The
National Guard must have set up a staging area here to contain the infection. A
futile attempt it seemed. Like everywhere else, frozen blood glistened red on
almost every vehicle. Even from this distance, they could see body parts scattered
throughout the streets.

The survivors sat in quiet shock; the realization that they
could drive no further weighed on each of them. Maalik was the first to speak.

“We abandon the bus. From here, we go on foot.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sam asked. “We can travel
parallel to the barricades on adjacent streets. There’s bound to be a break in
the walls somewhere.”

Bataviah shook her head in response. “The military was
attempting to form an outer perimeter for the quarantine zone. There is no
guarantee that there is a breach in their fortifications. Even if there was, it
would take too much of the little time we have left to find it.”