Adaptive Instinct (Survival Instinct) (69 page)

Suddenly realizing that he was outside the safety of the dumpster, River wheeled around, raising the flashlight as if a zombie were right behind him.  He was alone in the street.  In the distance, he spotted some zombies heading toward him, but none that were an immediate threat.

The sun was higher than he expected.  Although he had woken up with the sun the day before, he certainly hadn’t today.  River searched through his backpack, which he had held onto when he rolled.  The cereal boxes he had taken had all been chewed through, but the tin cans were still okay and the bag itself wasn’t badly damaged.  As he threw the ruined cereal into the street, a big, fat rat rolled out of one of the boxes and scurried to the dumpster.

Once fed and hydrated, River began to walk again.

Just like the day before, his thoughts wandered to his band mates.  He specifically thought about their own personal, infamous moments.  These were the kinds of things that anyone who was a fan of the band knew about.

Quin’s was the most exaggerated, about the time he fell asleep upright, on stage, and kept singing.  Sure, he stayed on his feet, but his microphone was dropped to the stage.  He also wasn’t exactly singing; more like just reciting the words.  Either way, the fans at that concert thought it was hilarious and a true mark about how exhausting their lives were, and how dedicated to the craft he was.

River’s own was more shameful than that.  He got extremely drunk behind stage while their front band was playing.  He wandered out in the middle of a song, and took a piss right off the end of the stage.  River had been glad to hear later that the fans were far enough back not to get pissed on, but the same couldn’t be said for a security guard.

Greg had actually once killed a man in self-defence and in defence of another when he had been younger.  It was before they had made it big.  After a great set in a small venue, the band had hooked up with some girls.  Unfortunately, they ran out of cigarettes, which was unacceptable to their addiction.  Greg had lost the debate about who should go buy some, and was booted out the back door.  As he walked through the alley to get to the street, he came across a man mugging a woman.  The woman swore later that the man was also threatening to rape her.  Either way, when Gregory saw what was happening, he grabbed an empty beer bottle and threw it at the man.  He didn’t realize the guy had a knife.  The two got into a scuffle, which resulted in Gregory stabbing the mugger in the neck with part of the broken beer bottle.  He was also stabbed and the guys didn’t learn what happened until they found him at a hospital the next day.

Mitch was the guy loved by other bands.  Because of Mitch, whenever Gathers Moss was in town, sales went up for all small venues and bands.  Mitch liked to go to small places and watch unknowns whenever they visited somewhere.  He didn’t just watch though, he would usually find a way to talk to the band and end up playing a song with them.  People would flock to these small places, hoping to see a super famous rocker up close, but nobody ever knew which venue he was going to.  Hell, River didn’t know unless he was tagging along, which sometimes he and the other guys did.  They never played with the small fries if they went, however, and were usually there incognito.

River didn’t realize he had left the city until he had to hide from a zombie and noticed that his options were limited.  A stand of trees had provided enough cover for him to escape, but he wasn’t sure where he would have gone if it weren’t for the trees.

Where could Quin be?  He had to be close.

In the distance, River could hear engines.  That must be where Quin was.  He started to follow the sound, confidant he would soon find his friend.

He did not.

He stumbled out into a street and just managed to catch a glimpse of a long-haul truck disappearing.  At least he thought it was the rear end of a long-haul truck; he couldn’t be sure.

A loud moan sounded behind him.  River turned to see a large group of zombies coming toward him.  He had never before seen so many of the undead.  At the front of the group was a zombie in a white lab coat, with a riot helmet on his head.  As River looked at the zombie, he swore he saw it grin.

River started running, more afraid than he had ever been.  Where could he hide from a group so big?  He glanced over his shoulder.

The zombie in the lab coat was chasing him, but the others seemed to have dropped back.  They were keeping pace, but leaving a gap between them and the lab coat.

River had no idea what he was going to do; he just knew he needed to run.

His lungs started to burn, but he saw a building up ahead.  Better yet, a building surrounded by a chain link fence.  He ran through the gate and slammed it behind him.  There was a chain hanging off the
gate, which he used to hold it shut, wrapping it around the chain link and fence posts.

The lab coat zombie reached the gate.  River backed up, pleased that he had protected himself.  This time the lab coat zombie definitely grinned.  He began to unwrap the chain from the gate and fence.  He was smart.

River kept backing away, crossing the open space toward the building.  He dropped his backpack and pulled out his shotgun.  Only one shot; he’d have to make it count.  River’s back was hot.  Really hot, like burning.  He glanced behind him and his eyes went wide.  The building was on fire.  He had watched the department store burn, but it had been nothing like this.  This place was practically melting.

The zombie had opened the gate and started to shamble toward River.  As the lab coat approached, a boil rapidly formed on his cheek and oozed pus.  River looked around for anywhere to go, but there was nowhere.  There was the zombie in front of him and the burning building at his back.  He spotted a sign.  On that sign was a word that River hadn’t expected: Nuclear.  A radiation hazard symbol also adorned the sign.

Radiation.

River looked back at the lab coat zombie, another boil forming on its hand.  The rest of the zombies had gathered along the fence as if watching a showdown.  River looked at his shotgun; one shot, he had to make it count.

He flipped the gun around and jammed the muzzle under his own chin, pulling the trigger before his courage left him.  The last thing he saw was complete and utter rage on the lab coat zombie’s face.

29:

Misha Jovovich – Day
18

Misha’s muscles were cramped.  They had tried to drive all night, but everyone was just too exhausted.  When nobody could drive any farther without the risk of falling asleep behind the wheel, they had found an empty field in which to stop.  Sleeping bags, pillows, jackets, and anything else they could use were hung across or pressed up against the windows.  They didn’t think any zombies would stumble upon them in the middle of nowhere, but they took the extra precaution, especially after that horde.

In the trunk of the van, Misha had a hard time finding a position that was comfortable enough to allow him to sleep.  If he hadn’t been as exhausted as he was, he never would have gotten any rest.  He was propped half upright by a bag of supplies and Rifle was half on top of him.  The big dog had his rump between Misha’s legs, with his front legs and head resting on Misha’s torso.  He made a wonderful blanket, not that Misha needed one.

Once his body was rested, Misha had awoken.  The sun hadn’t yet risen, only a grey glow came through the gaps in the window barricades.  Misha had been watching it steadily grow brighter as he lay there, absently stroking Rifle’s head.  His bladder was full, and in a minute, he was going to need to pee quite badly, but for now, he was just enjoying the quiet.

He glanced up and saw the large eyes of a small kitten looking down on him.  The girl, Robin, had said his name was Splatter.  Tiny Splatter had been fascinated by Rifle ever since they had gotten into the van, but he hadn’t worked up the courage to come down and see him up close.

Misha hadn’t yet decided what he thought of these new people.  Josh had been talking to the bunch of them as they drove along.  One of the women, Elizabeth, was very pregnant.  Misha couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this new world but she sounded very happy and excited about it.  Only one of the new people, a blond girl, had tried to talk to Misha.  She had been a student, like him, going to the university for some sort of art program.  Their conversation ended up being a short one because looking over the backseat started to make her feel carsick.  That, and talking about university bummed out both of them.

Reaching up, Misha rubbed Splatter’s head.  The little kitten leaned into his hand, then walked off toward the front of the van.  Misha really needed to pee.  He looked around the inside of the trunk, but couldn’t find a latch to release it.  Waking up Rifle by shifting himself more upright, Misha looked over the back of the rear seat.  It looked like everyone else was asleep in positions only slightly more comfortable than his.  In fact, Josh was in nearly the exact same position, only crammed between the two middle seats and a pack taking the place of Rifle.

“Is anyone awake?” Misha whispered as quietly as he could.

Josh’s eyes opened and looked at him.

“I have to pee.  I need someone to open the trunk,” Misha told him, trying not to wake up anyone else.  It was hard when the rock star’s head was directly under his own, but that guy was probably in something just shy of a drug-induced coma.  He came across as a man who was a few bulbs short of a full pack.  Back before the zombies, Misha would have been ecstatic to meet the man—he loved Gathers Moss—but now he found himself indifferent.  Quin was just another survivor.

Moving slowly so as not to disturb anyone, Josh sat up and leaned between the forward seats.  The keys were still in the ignition and he was just able to reach them, and push the trunk release button on the fob.

Next to Misha, the trunk popped open with a slight hiss of the hydraulics.  In spite of its quietness, the noise was loud enough to cause the others to stir.  Rifle jumped out of the van as soon as he could, stretching and rolling around on the ground.  At least that confirmed there were no zombies outside.

Misha climbed out of the van, leaving the trunk open because closing it would surely wake someone up.  Although he was sure most of them were actually already awake, they could go on pretending to sleep, clinging to the last remnants of what might be good dreams, and drawing out as much rest as possible.  After performing his own stretches, Misha walked away from the vehicles and peed out in the open.  He was wearing only his shorts and his boots at the moment, opting to leave the firefighter jacket and T-shirt behind.  He had taken off the shirt before sleeping due to the heat in the van.

Mathias was awake as well, standing apart from the vehicles and looking toward the horizon.  Misha walked over to him and stood next to him.  He didn’t have anything to say, he just felt like standing in the company of a friend.  The two of them watched the sky for several minutes.  Rifle sat with them for a moment, but then went off sniffing again.

A car door opened and slammed shut.  Everyone was probably awake after that.

“Excuse me?” a little boy’s voice was directed toward them.

“Yeah?” Mathias replied but both of them turned.  It was one of the kids who had shown up at the plane crash.  Bryan or something.

“My sister needs her diaper changed.  Is there a place where I can do it?”

“Would a blanket on the ground be okay?”  Mathias clearly had no idea.

“Yeah.”  The kid looked around.

“Okay.”  Mathias walked over to the SUV he had been driving and opened up the back.  He got out a blanket and started laying it on the ground while the kid helped his baby sister out of the car.  Everyone started to get up and get out of the vehicles, their joints popping and muscles creaking as they stretched.

The kid directed his sister over to the blanket, carrying his friend’s bag with him.  He was red in the face as he looked at everyone.  “Could someone help me?  I don’t know if I’ve been doing it right.”

Elizabeth, the pregnant woman, stepped forward.  “I can help if you like.  Cynthia’s been teaching me, and I could use some real experience.”

“Okay.”  The boy was relieved that someone had volunteered.

Misha, not interested in seeing a diaper change, turned around.  He started running around with all the dogs, including the new member, Maggie, yet the golden retriever rarely strayed far from one of the boys.  Misha noticed that she always kept the taller of the two in sight.  Once the little girl was changed, all the kids joined in, playing with the dogs.  Even Robin was running around, throwing sticks for the pooches and playing tag with the children.  She had seemed so serious when Misha had met her, and it was nice to see her smiling.  Rufus’s three girls managed to smile a few times that morning.  They had lost their parents, their aunt, their grandma, and even their eldest sister, all in one horrific hour, yet they were troopers.  The three of them had probably been raised like Riley, and were leaning on each other for support while keeping everything inside.  Maybe it was the lack of zombies and the knowledge that today was the day they would reach the airport.  Misha remembered being crazy happy on the flight to the Bishop cabin.

Everyone ate a light breakfast together, and Joshua looked over everyone’s wounds.  Those who were in the plane crash stood out with all their cuts and bruises.  Danny’s looked the worst though, with his broken arm.  They couldn’t make a real cast, so Josh had put one together out of some pipe debris and bandages.  He was quite good at using whatever was at hand, like when he built the stretcher for Alec.