After Genocide: The Dead Live Again (8 page)

“Whoa something is not right.”

“I agree they should be outside,” agreed Kelly.

              We walk outside the store and reach the vehicle and we began to examine it closely; “not a soul to be near,” says Pam. “Not even the gas nozzle is inserted. 

              I opened the gas tank lid, and inserted the nozzle and put it on hold and gas began to pour.

              Pam opened the door and threw all the snacks in there.

“So where do we begin looking?” I ask.

“Good question,” replies Kelly.

Pam closed the suburban door and checked her handgun and cocked it. 

“Okay let’s go explore a little,” she suggests.

“Let’s walk a little forward together, stick to one another in group formation,” I say.

              Upon walking we noticed paw prints, “Blade” I say; “It looks like the prints lead to that small curve of an alley,” says Pam.

“Then to the alley we will go,” I reply. 

              There is a small neighborhood behind the store; but what could have attracted them over there? The nozzle clicked and I put it back on the pump. I draw my crossbow out and knock an arrow. I look towards the alley in the distance, not good at all.

“Prepare for anything,” Kelly orders.

“Agreed,” Pam and I reply.

Ch.8: Rehab of Death

              A jog then the speed grew. Dust flew behind our steps as we paced quickly to reach the back alley. The children’s rehab center is peaceful for the moment then there is a sudden sound of despair. A scream, it sounds like a small child in danger. We stopped then take a glance.  Vehicles park at the lot along with them: A white long van; a green truck, a black P.T. Cruiser and a teal Chevy Suburban.

              “Did you hear that?” asks Kelly.

“Yes the sudden scream,” Pam agreed.  “But our mission,” I complained.

              “Max, Six and Michael are big boys they can handle themselves. Besides they are armed and trained,” Kelly responded. Betrayal went through my gut; but Kelly did have a good point.

              “Okay. Let’s do this,” I agreed with her but with mild discomfort. Kelly led the way marching forward like the S.P.O.S.A soldier trained professional she is.

              A hand on my spine as Pam walks beside me. 

“Hey I know you mean well to your brother and best friend but she does have a point,” Pam implied. 

“I know,” I agreed.

              The back door, a mild crack gave it away for Kelly’s perfect eye sight. 

“Look guys, trouble,” she says. A quick reaction is what struck Pam and me. We both aim our weapons in a quick and adequate panic while a shiver ran down our spines.

              Creaking like an old haunted house gate.  Lack of oil is what it had. One hand on her weapon and another on the door, “everybody ready,” Kelly asks. A glance between Pam and me as our eyes connected for a split second then we both nodded to the question in reply. A quick tug opened the door wide and I held it with my shoulder to allow room for Kelly to enter.

              “Okay you guys, eyes peeled for anything,” she ordered.

              The lights barely lighting the room; more darkness than light, equivalent to that of a creepy basement; another shiver ran down my spine and Pam let out a small tremble on her hands while she held her magnum in aiming position.

              Our eyes adjusting to the impetuous darkness that struck with such surprise.

              “Split up,” Kelly ordered, as she and Pam walk in first then I followed.

              “Pam you take room two. I will take room three beside me. And Joe you check the next one that follows.” Not once in my life have I been inside this therapy place, and Max with the only flashlight well this was like walking on egg shells.

              “Roger that,” I agreed and Pam just walks to face her door. The hand on the door handle, the room is closed; perhaps she would not have to deal with anything strange and just an empty room. Whereas I walking ahead to the room that followed Kelly’s. Each step leaves an echo and slowly the girls seemed to be too far for my reach.  Sweat began to pour, and saliva ran through my throat. I felt cold all over. A small sign on the wall with the arrow pointing towards the room and inscribed is the word Equipment.

              Pam slowly turned the handle clockwise and quietly pushed the door open. A dark room; she felt nervous. Small amount of fear crept through her cold body. The Goosebumps on her arms began to spread. With one hand reaching to her side; the cold wall then a small bump. Light switch to the room is flipped it up and the lights ignite dimly. A flicker and the buzz of struggling electricity ran through the room.

              The room is like a den; everything echoes through. There is the sound of snarling. Pam walks quietly taking every step cautiously. Cabinets inside the room and a large table in the middle; a sink to the far right corner, she approaches the left edge of the table with one hand on her magnum; trembling as she feared the worst. Her eyes wide with fear but she dared to walk further and approach the scene.

              Her eyes stricken with such fear; cold sweat ran down her forehead to her cheeks. A long pause ran through her brain. She wanted to shoot but something kept her arm paralyzed. No not just her arm, her entire body is paralyzed; like a small prey to that the glare of a snake like predator gazing upon from the distance. 

              Then her vocal cords closed and opened as she let out a scream of such fear. A loud echo of her scream made Kelly pause. The zombie having a snack blood fell from the mouth of the creature.  The eyes glowing red like that of a wild predator in the dark. Its teeth sharp like that of a wild cat; nails extremely large. Its skin peeled like a flesh eating disease had struck it; all due to the act of the mutation.

              Eyes of the zombie glare into Pam’s nervous stare. A mother is the zombie and the meal appeared to be the child, too little left to distinguish male or female sibling.

              Standing to be approximately five feet and nine inches in height; slim. Pam is the next meal for it to munch on. Quick speed as the zombie rushed to take a charge at Pam; but she had a guardian angel in the room. The blast of a firearm stopped the zombie halfway from reaching Pam’s standing point. Kelly stood at the doorway then rushed to hug her best friend that stood in such a frozen position, taken by the terror.

Pam stood there, then a tear broke out.  “Why is this happening?” she cried.

The cold hands of Kelly felt warm against Pam’s spine as Kelly rushed and placed her arms around her and hugged her tight. 

“It’s okay,” she comforts.

              I rushed as the sound of the gunshot had echoed.

“Pam!”

“Kelly!” I yelled while I began a jogging pace, then while standing in front of the room at the door entrance I aim my crossbow.

              “You ladies hurt?” I ask. 

“We are okay,” replies Kelly.

              Walking towards them, Kelly released the hug she has on Pam. No words exit my mouth. The crying continues for only a few seconds then she stops the sobbing. 

              “Okay. Kelly, take Pam with you. I will check out the equipment room,” I ordered and Kelly agreed then reloaded her firearm.

              Walking out of the room and into the mildly dark hallway, Kelly and Pam behind me, but their objective is room two.

              Last I recall I saw them standing by the door, but I kept walking straight ahead to the equipment room. Step by step at a calm and quiet pace; trying to make no sound whatsoever, but the hall is too quiet. No matter how light I walk the footsteps echoed throughout.

             
My hand trembling; unbalanced legs as mild fear ran through my body. 

              A sudden pause; I keep my crossbow in hand as I walk. The door is closed and I can hear every breath I take like a loud siren. I place my left hand on the door knob and move it a little. 

It felt weak and so a quiet pull and a dark room is in view. One step then another then another; each one silent how a cat walks.  Darkness embedded the room. A quick glance caught my eye of the light switch, flipping it up and the lights barely light up the room. Sizzling electricity runs through the wires to the bulbs.

              Aiming my crossbow position, quietly walking the scenario is two large shelves at the end of the wall to hold equipment. Two book shelves parallel to each other with coinciding computers to each side one to the front and the other to the back. A clear path resides ahead however I feel like a coward for not wanting to explore further but the job must be done. I don’t want to be held responsible if they attack the girls in a large ambush later.

              I begin to approach the middle of the shelves, next to the computers from the peripheral side of my eye there is a shadow that moves quickly. A quick reaction forces my scared body to move and point the crossbow straight to the end of the hall. My pulse begins to accelerate and my heart rate beating rapidly. My throat goes dry and sweat rapidly pours down my neck. 

              “Any,”—my pulse echoes—“anybody there?” my voice cries out in a dry and hoarse tone.

             
Come on Joe. What would the girls think of you right now? Prove to yourself that you are the man that you claim to be. Only with her are you tough but away you are soft like a gummy bear. 

             
From under the desk it watches; like a predator through the night a tiger hunting its feeble prey through the utter darkness. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike, my leg is in perfect coordination for its strike ability but it watches me move like a frightened deer through the wilderness. 

             
Eyes glowing red like the blood that a human bleeds when injured by a severe or even a minor wound on the body. 

              With such speed and agility it makes a quick attack from under the desk and tries to bite me on my leg.

             
A small power struggle takes place as I try to shake her off but it is no use. I use my legs to kick her back to the ground, but her speed is too much for me and keeps getting back up in quick time. 

“Fuck this!” I exclaim then I aim my crossbow and shoot the zombie child in the head.  Although it appeared as if I had only nicked it, my thoughts were only to move further away as possible, and forget to recover the arrow. Now down to four.

A slow walk backwards this time then a spin to check my surroundings but still nothing.  All is silent and I’m facing the end again; and from my left side red glaring eyes and a loud growl echo. I shake my head now, a zombie on top of the bookshelf; I look and our eyes stare. It jumps to pounce, but I’m way ahead of it. With my crossbow I smack hit it while in the air and send it back a couple of feet. I draw my hunting knife now as the zombie begins to move again and I stab it in the head.

Blood smears and drools on the floor; my next step is on a small puddle of it. To my right; another growl equaled another zombie. On top of the bookshelf, it stood and made a quick jump.  But my speed for reaction is a lot faster as I use my knife to stab into the head of another zombie. 

Three bodies are lying on the floor in their own pool of blood; “next time don’t mess with a scared man who carries a knife,” my voice broke out in a mild cocky manner.

             
A deep breath then sweat poured down like usual. From up front three zombies viewed my position. They ran towards me; so I began to pace backwards to the end, like running into my own trap. Three zombies, each apart from one another like players in a football team working together to acquire the goal in their minds. I sheathe my knife and reach for my pistol, with each two steps I released a bullet for each zombie approaching me with ferocity.

              Six bodies now my nerves twisting and my breathing increased then slowly began to decline when all seemed calm. 

              Placing my pistol in its appropriate holster a sudden voice inside my head tells me to turn left echoed through my brain. 

              Another zombie stalking my position then to my right another with my left hand I pull my pistol out again and cocked it; then aim it left. I drop my crossbow and draw my knife with my right hand then shift it to hold it from the tip. The two zombies begin to move in quickly and I turn to both sides. 

              I squeeze the trigger on my handgun and blast the first zombie into shreds; whereas another quick glance puts me face to face with the other. My reflex to throw the knife is acted upon itself. The knife hurls with speed and accuracy directly into the zombies’ head.

              I sheathe my knife and place my pistol in the holster. I pick up my crossbow and begin to walk. Up ahead is the same zombie child on the floor, twitching. 

              “Poor little ones,” I said then I knock an arrow and I shoot the zombie in the head. I remove the arrow and place it back with the others.