The Renegades 2 Aftermath (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller) (12 page)

Baja strolled over.

“You want breakfast?” he said, munching on something that looked like a turd.

“Nah.”

“Think I can have yours?”

“Go ahead, man,” I replied. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

A
ccording to Garret
, the Disease Control and Prevention Center was fourteen minutes away on an ordinary day, and that was if you had a vehicle. We didn’t. It was thirty by foot. To say that I was feeling a little deflated by my conversation with him would have been putting it mildly. Dax gathered the others together after breakfast to get their vote. We had already planned on going over to the CDC but that was before I found out there were no safe zones. Now it all seemed so meaningless. I could barely process what Garret had told me. I watched from a distance as the others came to the reality of our predicament. Izzy glanced at Jess. Baja made a joke of it and Specs seemed lost in thought, then again he always looked that way. Ralphie was the only one other than my brother who thought it made sense.

“Listen, we can stay here, or try to find some place to survive and live out the rest of our days, or we can be involved in getting the president back.”

I know he meant well, but Ralphie was a bit of an oddball. On the surface he didn’t resemble the William Wallace, let me give you a motivational speech, type of guy. More like the fella who asked if you wanted to super-size that meal. And if you did, tough shit because he had already eaten it. He wore round glasses, and some might have said he looked as though he had worked his way through his fair share of Happy Meals. Not that it mattered, we all had our vices. Mine had been cigarettes. I had been trying to kick the habit since I was twelve. When asked how I got started, I would tell people that I picked up butts that people tossed down at the bus stop, just so I could gross them out. The truth was, Specs nabbed them from his old man.

Anyway back to our Tony Robbins wannabe.

“This could be it, guys. Our chance to shine. To be all we can be.”

Okay, he was starting to sound like a bloody infomercial for the army. And he may have convinced everyone if… Baja hadn’t tossed a half-eaten weiner at his forehead.

“Alright, enough of that shit,” Baja interrupted. “Let me cut to the chase. What our dear friend here is trying to say through the drivel that is coming out his mouth is this. If we don’t go find this cure that is hidden in the president’s ass—”

“Uh… it’s not,” Garret cut him off.

“What? Not what?” Baja snapped back.

“It’s not in his ass, it’s in his hip.”

“Hip, ass it’s all a little to near to the hole for my liking. Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by a member of the secret society…”

“It’s Secret Service.”

“Yeah, about that. Don’t you think it’s kind of dumb that you call yourselves the Secret Service? I mean, I know about you. Pretty much most of the United States does. It’s not exactly a secret. You might wanna rethink the name, bud. Just a thought.” He paused.

“Um, I’ll keep that in mind.” Garret looked at the others and rubbed his head as if wondering if the medications we had given him for pain were actually mind-altering drugs.

“Where was I? Oh yeah, now, we either go up against two hundred Crips and rescue the president, or we can head over to the CDC and see if we can find another sample of the cure, and the president can go fuck himself. I vote, the president goes fuck himself. Who’s with me?”

He pumped the air with his fist.

“Hey, that’s my father you’re talking about,” Kat piped up.

“Whoa, whoa, darlin’. No need to shoot the messenger. I’m just saying. I mean let’s face it. If he had actually done his job, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Her nostrils flared. At this point I would have usually intervened but Izzy did it.

“Baja, go take a nap,” Izzy pushed him aside and stepped up on this chair that Ralphie had been using to give his Winston Churchill speech. She looked around at us, peered over at me. I had sat by the window, occasionally glancing over.

“There’s no point blaming anyone here. What’s done is done. So, I don’t think anyone needs to be told what to do. We go to the CDC, see what we can find. Worst-case scenario there’s nothing and we move on, or…” she paused and looked at Kat. “We offer our help.”

I let out a stifled laugh. It was loud enough that Izzy heard.

“Do you have something to add, Johnny?”

“I just think it’s absurd. Why should we risk our lives for someone who for all we know could be dead?”

“Uh, because he has the cure.”

“You presume he has the cure. No offense…” I looked at Garret. “But we don’t know that for sure.”

“I told you he does,” Garret replied.

“You might be convinced — we’re not!” I said. “And we have met our fair share of people who lie.”

He lifted his hands. “What possible reason could I have to lie?”

“Uh, let me think. You have a so-called perfect track record of protecting the president. Maybe your ego has been battered a little. Then there is of course the glaring fact that you have his daughter with you.”

Kat stood up and walked over to me. “Forget that he’s the president. If it was your father, would you leave him?”

I stared at her for a moment. Her steely blue eyes bore into me, waiting for an answer.

“You never met my father. He was an asshole.”

“Are you sure?” Garret said, studying my face.

“Look this isn’t about me, or my father. It’s about you. How many others out there have had their parents, brothers, sisters, and children stolen from them? What makes you think we give a damn?”

“Because you helped us,” Kat replied. “Why did you help us? You didn’t even know who we were. You could have looked the other way. Slipped out without being noticed.”

I never answered; instead I just contemplated what she was asking.

“Well?”

She wasn’t going to let up until I answered. I looked at the others, they too looked as if they were waiting.

I shot back. “Because it was the right thing to do!”

“And you don’t think this is the right thing to do?”

I pointed at her. “There were six of them. There are two hundred Crips.”

“We can see if the Black Kings can help,” Jess added. I heaved a heavy sigh, got up, and walked away. I didn’t want to get into it. They had obviously made up their minds as to what they wanted to do. This was no game. These men were killers. They wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. It would have been like going up against an army.

I
went
down a level into an area that was assigned for kids. It was amazing how they had designed the library. There were sections of the building, special rooms dedicated for kids to play in. One of them had been built like an ice cave with a skylight. I took a seat in there and looked up. Any small sound had me on edge. Every day it seemed that way. Unable to rest. The thought that we had overlooked something.

A few minutes passed before Jess came in, she looked at me and then gazed around. I knew she was there to give me some lecture about how I should help out. Instead, I was surprised to find that she didn’t say anything. In fact, she never spoke a word. Maybe it was female reverse psychology but it worked. She got me speaking.

“So you want to get involved with this?”

“I’m not really sure.” She cut a sideways glance. “I don’t think sticking around here is much use either.”

“Tell me I’m not mad, Jess, to want to avoid this?”

She came over and took a seat beside me, placing her hands behind her before gazing up at the skylight.

She breathed out. “Did I tell you that my father liked you?”

I burst out laughing. “You want me to believe that now?”

“It’s true.”

“Well, he had a funny way of showing it,” I replied.

The first time I had turned up at her house, her father answered the door. He wasn’t in uniform but he didn’t need to be. He always had this intimidating presence. Something that made you feel as though he could read your mind. I guess in certain ways maybe he could. I couldn’t say my thoughts towards his daughter were completely pure. But then again was any guy my age different? I think he knew that. That first day he had grilled me on the doorstep about my intentions, he then led me into his home and showed me where he kept his guns. He never said anything that made me feel as though he would have put a cap in my ass, but the message was very subtle. Fuck with my daughter, or even fuck her, and I will bring down the strong arm of the law.

I chuckled at the memory.

“He liked you because you were the only kid that had the nerve to show up twice at the door.”

I stifled a laugh. “You are telling me those you dated before me never went back to the house?”

“Nope.” She let out a small laugh.

“Is that why you changed your mind about going out with me?”

“I want to say you were persistent, Johnny. But no, I just pitied you.” She let out a deep laugh.

“Great, thanks.”

She slapped me in the gut. “I’m kidding. I dunno, maybe I felt safe around you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“That was then, this is now. No one is safe.”

“Maybe not today, but tomorrow…” she trailed off.

That was what I liked about her. She was optimistic. She saw hope when I couldn’t. And right about then, I couldn’t see it. Like tiredness hitting you after days of staying up late. I found myself being hit by a wall of doubt. I was questioning myself and everything we were doing. Surely others had done the same? They must have. We had seen it. In our journey to Salt Lake we came across those who hadn’t been bitten but had taken their lives. An old couple in their abandoned trailer who had shot themselves. Guns in hand. Blood splatter behind them. Their hands interlocked with each other. I didn’t like to linger in the thought of suicide. But it had crossed my mind several times since this had kicked off.

At first it was the worry of having my skin torn, and my vital organs ripped from my body. You know, what anyone might want to avoid — pain. Hell, I cried like a bitch when I had to get my tooth pulled. The dentist had to give me laughing gas not because I was scared, but because he was. I acted irrational when it came to pain. But it wasn’t enduring pain that scared me, but the thought of the unknown. What did it feel like? How long would it take before I was dead? All these thoughts I pondered multiple times. All I saw was the inevitable. So forgive me, if the thought of putting a bullet through my own skull sounded selfish.

“I don’t even like the president,” I said.

“We’re not doing it for him. Do it for others, those who need the cure.”

I groaned and she quickly put it in perspective.

“Do it for yourself, your brother, or me.”

I breathed out deeply. As I did she reached across and took a hold of the side of my face.

“Think about it, okay?”

“You know you are going to be the death of me,” I said.

She smirked.

A
fter checking
our ammo we rolled out. We would pass right by Temple Square, unless we went the long way around which would have added another twenty minutes or so to our time. None of us wanted that.

We were like a line of ants just waiting to be stomped on. The city did little to cover us. You would think that you could move through the streets unnoticed because no one would be so out of their mind as to think about venturing out.

Nope, not these raving lunatics.

Business was as usual, except the government and city police were no longer in charge. Some of the streets had been purposely blocked. They couldn’t exactly build a wall of vehicles, but they had pushed some of them into areas so they could control where Z’s went. This made the whole city feel like a maze. One moment you would head down a street thinking it was going to lead you into the next, and the next moment you would have to go back the same way.

Initially Dax had wanted to have the women hang back with Ralphie and Specs but that went down real bad. Izzy got into a spitting match with him over how women could hold their own and if he didn’t start showing some damn respect she was going to put a cap in his ass. Of course Specs found this hilarious, and took every chance he could to rub it in.

It was hard to say what we expected to find at the CDC. By the look on Dax’s face I figured he thought there would be a team of scientists poring over the latest test samples. I certainly wasn’t holding out hope. We had seen too much devastation. Ralphie led the way, which I’m sure challenged Dax’s misguided superiority complex. He was used to being the head of the pack.

We moved as a tight unit. At corners Ralphie would give us the okay and one by one we would hustle across the street to the cover of the next alleyway. What probably would have made for a nice walk before the apocalypse was brutal. The closer we got to Temple Square the less we used our guns. We kind of figured Domino’s men would be circling the place like guards on a prison wall. Everywhere we went the walls were either covered in blood or daubed with graffiti. Gangs placed their own tags over one another’s. It was a childish insult, but they took it seriously.

“Is that what I think it is?” Baja asked, moving closer to a white 1979 Ford Country Squire station wagon with wood trim down the side. The same kind he had taken off-road on a joy ride. Its occupants must have run out of gas or left in hurry as both the driver’s and passenger doors were wide open.

“Shit it is,” Specs said, pausing to take a look. Baja ran his hand over it as if it were the Holy Grail. The others kept on moving.

“Guys, let’s go,” Jess hollered.

“There, there, baby. One day. Me and you.” Baja patted the hood before joining us.

W
e slipped passed
Temple Square without incident. Were we lucky? Perhaps. We soon discovered the reason they didn’t see us was because a horde of Z’s had overrun one of their armored vehicles patrolling the area. Gunfire shattered what little peace we were clinging to.

It didn’t make it any better that it had begun to rain hard. The streets had turned into a stream that was soaking our clothes and making it hard to focus. We dashed through the downpour, peering around corners and setting our eyes on the next source of cover.

It wasn’t the rain but the Z’s that bothered us.

The sound of moans filled our ears as we rushed past the street where the armored vehicle was under attack. For once we were grateful that we weren’t the ones being forced into hiding. The trouble was it could happen so fast. One minute you would be staring down five or six of them and that would soon turn into twenty, then fifty. In the city they were like rats. The streets were crawling with them.

We crouched low, weaving our way around burnt-out vehicles, sometimes seeking momentary cover inside. Which meant cozying up to some burned-up corpse. I wouldn’t have wished that on my worst enemy. Every second that passed I imagined them coming to life and sinking sizzled teeth into my neck.

Passing the carnage, we saw a couple rushing through the streets with a baby. They glanced at us and for a split second they looked as if they were contemplating asking for our help; instead they turned and raced into an alleyway. No doubt they would meet a nasty fate. How many babies had been torn up? I shivered at the thought.

The strangest thing was that even though we were soaked to our skin, the rain was a welcome sight. It washed away the grime of going days without bathing in rivers or shallow ponds. Of course it made everything that much more dangerous. In the city, Benjamin had said they had to go down into the sewers to find pipes still filled with water. It was brutal, but something that you relished. I’d hoped, no, dreamed that the safe zones would have warm showers.

I had to let go of that thought. It would eat me up inside. The constant what-ifs never led to anything but depression and I couldn’t afford to be depressed. In this world it would get you killed.

I slammed a machete into the forehead of a Z and stumbled over its body.

We turned the final corner that led up to the CDC. It was your typical government building. Nothing fancy, at least the one in Salt Lake City wasn’t. It was a four-story building, its once light brown colors had been bleached by the rays of the sun, a large chunk of the side had been ripped away as if someone had fired a mortar into it. Brickwork had crumbled and most of its windows were shattered.

“Perhaps an explosion?” Specs asked.

“Or an attack,” I said.

Dead bodies lay everywhere. This wasn’t uncommon for the city. It was like a minefield, except you never quite knew if the next body you stepped over was going to take a piece out of your leg.

We moved fast.

The threat of Z’s was forever at the forefront of our minds, but now we had even more to contend with. Fully armed Tongan Crips looking to get their kicks were sure to be out looking for their men who had gone missing.

Stumbling over large bricks we made our way inside.

The corridor reminded me of a hospital. It had a very sterile feel to it. I think all of us knew that it was very unlikely we were going to find anything of value inside, let alone the cure. I wouldn’t have minded if it had just been a few us that had gone out, but having all of us in there. It was risky. Stupid even.

I kept my shotgun at the ready as we advanced forward. Doorways were on both sides of the corridor. There was no telling what was going to come out of them or how many Z’s were inside. We crept down the first corridor without incident. Every time we turned a corner we saw more lifeless bodies. Some of them you couldn’t even recognize as their faces had been chewed away. A few twitched on the floor. Those that appeared to show any sign of being a threat were quickly dealt with by me or the others.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Dax asked Garret.

“Kind of. We didn’t come in this way. We were taken to a lab on the lower floor.”

We continued following his lead. The whole place felt eerie. We were witnessing the aftermath of a mass genocide. We passed by a room labeled EOC, Garret told us it was their Emergency Operation Center. It was dedicated to tracking and monitoring outbreaks around the world. It reminded me of a school classroom, except a lot bigger. There were lines of computers, some untouched, others scattered on the floor among dead bodies.

We cleared our way through about ten Z’s before taking the stairwell down to the next floor. With more of us packing it was getting easier to move forward. I hung back at the top of the stairwell to keep watch on anyone following us. Ralphie was with me.

“I know you don’t like this,” Ralphie said. “But if there is even just a slim chance it’s worth it.”

“Maybe.”

“Guys.” Izzy called up to us, I peered over the stairwell. “Dax wants you to hold the position and keep an eye out.”

I gave her the thumbs-up.

We heard her saying the same to Jess and Specs who were one floor below us. We stood either side of the door looking down the corridors. The sound of moaning was a constant. Where it was coming from was hard to tell. Most of the doors were locked. The only way you could get into them was with a key code, or a swipe card.

“So tell me.” I cast a glance to my side. “What did you do before this?”

He looked as if he was a few years older than me.

“I worked at 7-Eleven,” Ralphie replied.

“Working your way through college?”

“Nope. That was it.”

I looked back. “Right, but you must have had some goal. Something you wanted to do with your life? I mean back at the library you had a lot to say. I thought you might have been a motivational speaker?”

He chuckled. “Nah, I just listened to a lot of motivation audios. Computers were my thing. Networking, hacking.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Hacking?”

“Small stuff, websites, the odd government facility.”

“Oh, you sly dog.”

He grinned.

I scanned the rooms that I could see into. I saw a few Z’s shuffling around. There wasn’t any chance of them getting out so I wasn’t worried. One of them looked as if his ears had been chewed off, and an eyeball was hanging by a loose muscle.

“I don’t get it. You listen to all the motivational speeches, you say you’re a bit of whiz with computers and yet you work at 7-Eleven?”

“It’s a job,” he replied.

“I know. Someone’s gotta do it. But I just imagined anyone who worked there was either the owner’s kid, in college, or doing a favor for a buddy. I mean how often do you see the same guy or gal down at your local convenience store? The turnover must be crazy.”

“I held it down for four years,” Ralphie chuckled. “That was my full-time gig. Pretty sad, isn’t it?”

“Well, look it this way, you might not have managed to become president, but you’re on your way to save him. I think that’s a pretty sweet deal.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

I only said it to cheer him up. The very mention of what he did before only seemed to dampen his spirits. It was if talking about it made him remember who he really was and being with us gave him purpose. Perhaps he was trying to break out of that mold, become something he’d never been?

Suddenly gunfire erupted below us. I shouldered the door and craned over the stairwell.

“What’s going on?” I yelled.

There was no reply. All that could be heard was the echo of guns. Ralphie and I double-timed it down two flights of stairs to find Jess and Specs wrestling with Z’s. Neither of us hesitated. I stabbed two of them in the side of the temple sending black gunk all over Jess’s face. As I slid on blood in the hallway I could clearly see what was happening.

There must have been a hundred skin-eaters shuffling forward.

Dax, Baja, Izzy, and Garret had formed a line and were taking them down in droves but it was useless, there were too many. Sandwiched between them and us was Kat. She looked terrified. She held a gun in her hand but clearly had never used one.

The entire corridor was like a fucking slip and slide of blood and guts. The smell was like heating up an old man’s cock in a microwave, and sprinkling shit all over it. I leapt up only to find myself back on my ass as a Z lunged at me. There I was trying to wrestle with a zombie version of Kojak while trying to keep an eye on Kat. I turned back to find flesh dangling against my lips. I spat and pushed the Z back. At first I thought it was part of his mouth, but then I realized, it was an eyeball hanging out. The fucking thing landed on my face.

I didn’t have a chance to go for my knife as the Z had knocked it out of my hand when I landed. So I did the next best thing and took a hold of its head and slammed it three times against the wall until it crushed. Still laid back underneath a mutilated Humpty Dumpty who now had a cracked melon, I tried pushing him off but he had to have weighed a good three hundred pounds. All I could do was watch helplessly as a Z burst out of a side door at Kat.

“Specs,” I bellowed.

Specs turned on a dime and fired off two rounds, not thinking for a second whether or not he was going to hit Kat. The Z spun in midair. Kat had now reached a new level of trauma as blood splattered all over her. A quick hand from Ralphie and Specs and I was back up on my feet, wiping off molasses-thick blood.

“Go, get her out,” Garret was yelling. Garret had only turned for a few seconds when a Z sank its teeth into his arm. He screamed in agony and used his other to shoot it in the face. But it was too late. He’d been bitten. I grabbed Kat and we all raced into the stairwell and ascended the stairs two at a time. There was nothing to hold back the doors. The swarm of the dead followed us, some spilled over the banister as they forged towards us.

When we reached the main floor my legs were burning. My chest was on fire from breathing hard. We didn’t stop or look back. The only thought pushing through my mind was to get out. To get as far away from the building as we could. We stumbled out into the rain, defeated by the dead, and for what? We had nothing, or at least that’s what I thought.

We trudged our way down the street searching for the nearest abandoned building. The choice was endless. The irony was, we settled on a 7-Eleven beside a gas station.

Ralphie grinned, feeling at home. I was just glad to get out of the rain. We piled into the store, Baja and I made sure there was no one there before we locked the door behind us. The last thing we needed was any more surprises.

Garret was in agony. The Z had torn through the muscle in his right forearm. In all the confusion, someone had left the medic kit behind at the library. He was now bleeding out.

“I’ll find something to tie it off,” I said.

“No. Cut it,” he yelled.

“What?”

“Cut it. Do it now.”

We stared at each other. Dax didn’t pause, blink, or ask if he was sure. He reached a hand behind his back and in one smooth motion pulled the machete from its sheath.

“Hold him down,” he said.

Baja was the only one that had presence of mind to follow his directions. Garret held out his chewed-up arm and Dax brought the blade down about ten inches up from the bite without any hesitation. More blood splatter hit Kat in the face. Some of it went in her mouth. Her eyes went as wide as dollar coins. She looked if she was in shock. Her skin was pale and body unflinching to the horror taking place before her.

Dax brought the blade down on Garret’s arm four times before he cut through the bone. Garret went unconscious from pain in two. We stood there staring at the severed arm in a pool of blood while Dax tied off the stump with his own pant belt.

“You think that will do it?” Jess asked.

“No. But it’s all we’ve got for now. We need to cauterize it fast to stop the bleeding.”

Without any power, all we had was a BIC lighter that Baja pulled out.

“Yeah, this isn’t a concert, you moron. I’m pretty sure we are going to need something bigger than that,” Dax said.

Specs got up and began looking around. He disappeared down an aisle. We could hear him rooting through the little that remained in the store.

“Here we go,” he came back with some TRESemmé hairspray.

“I don’t think he needs a new hairdo, dude,” Baja replied.

Specs shook his head and took the lighter.

“Stand back.”

He placed the lighter in front of the travel canister. It couldn’t have been much bigger than his hand. He flicked it on and a flame appeared. A quick burst of hairspray and a flame shot out a foot long.

“By the way I hear that’s all the rage now. Using swords and fire to cut hair.”

“Baja, I swear you are demented,” Izzy said, watching in horror.

“No, I’m dead serious. I saw it on TV. Some Aussie was slicing the shit out of some chick’s hair and burning the ends with fire.”

“I’ll remember that when I need a haircut, now can we get his arm sorted out?”

Specs was already on it. Everyone averted their eyes at the sound of sizzling flesh. The smell was far worse than we imagined. It reeked of rotten eggs and weeks-old milk. When Specs pulled back I glanced at his handiwork. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. But it wasn’t that. He had practically turned the guy’s stub into a roasted sausage. I’d seen marshmallows on the end of a stick fare better at a campfire than that. But at least it wasn’t bleeding. I grimaced at the sight. Garret had remained unconscious through it all, though I figured if he had woken up he would have probably passed out.

“Kat.”

She stared forward barely blinking.

“Kat,” I repeated.

I got up and went over to Dax who was admiring Specs’s handiwork. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into an aisle.

“Was that trip worth it? Did you find anything? I told you we shouldn’t have gone.”

“Get your hand off me, Johnny.”

I glared at him and slowly released my grip.