Angered Seasons: The Worst Birthday Ever (Volume One) (4 page)

I smiled. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Me,
too.”

Heat washed over my face as I opened the oven
to check on the nachos. Lane set out the pot holders and watched as
I set them down. By the time I’d gotten some sweats and a tank top
on, they were cool enough to eat. I noticed Lane had changed into a
green t-shirt and the same old black sweat shorts he always wore to
bed. He caught my glance and shrugged.

“I told her if she couldn’t handle my best
friend being a girl that I couldn’t date her.”

“But at the bar…”

“I’m sorry. I was… frustrated. Can I
stay?”

I tried to hide my grin as I raised an
eyebrow at him. “You realize your name’s on the mortgage too,
right? I can’t really kick you out if you don’t feel like
going.”

“I’m just saying, what I said to you was out
of line. It’s always been me and you and if others can’t get it,
then it’s their loss. I’m not willing to give you up because some
twenty-two year old can’t handle the sight of another woman walking
around my house. I’m sorry, Gabby.”

I got up and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,
too.”

“For what?”

“Punching your girlfriend.” I gazed up into
his dark blue eyes and my mind flew back to the scene in the bar.
Michelle screaming at me that he talked about me in his sleep, the
terrified look on his face when I’d questioned him. My heart
started to beat faster in my chest. What would he do if I stretched
up and kissed him? And then what? Did I love him? Of course. He’d
been a constant in my life for ages. Would taking things past the
friend level ruin the great thing we had? “Lane?”

He frowned at my whisper.

“What she said in the bar…”

The deep blue irises slid behind a curtain of
dark lashes and he took a deep breath.

A muffled scream made its way through the
walls of the house and interrupted our moment. Both of us went to
the window and looked out. Nothing. Lane turned on the TV while I
closed the blinds.

“… again, we repeat. Authorities are urging
people to stay indoors and to keep their doors locked. What was
thought to be gang related assaults are now believed to be
something else entirely.”

The picture cut to a scene in some city’s
downtown area. Two men were being beaten and killed on a street
corner. The reporter, a tall, blond fellow stood in view, his
horror plain. The five men and two women who had been beating the
other two turned towards him as one. The reporter said something
that wasn’t picked up by the mike he’d dropped on the ground.
Whoever was in charge of the camera dropped it and the reporter’s
feet could be seen scrambling again. The yellow eyed gang advanced
with amazing speed and a blood curdling scream ripped through the
TV’s speakers.

The screen cut back to the reporter at the
station who was staring, dazed, back at us, his face devoid of
blood.

“Thomas? Tom? Can you hear us?” He stared
past the camera. “Phone 911 and get someone over there! What the
fuck is happening?”

I shivered as the newsman had a breakdown in
front of millions of viewers. “What station is this?”

Lane hit the info button. “FOX.”

“So it’s not just here?” My heart was
starting to pound its way out of my chest.

The reporter was being led off of the set and
was replaced by a slightly calmer woman. She looked at her notes,
took a deep breath, and looked at the camera.

“Though government and medical officials are
denying any involvement, suggestions have been made this could be
some sort of pandemic infection…”

I tuned out. “Pandemic? As in worldwide?”

“This is like one of those real shitty zombie
movies you like to watch.”

I rubbed my hands over my face. “They’re not
shitty. And besides, they didn’t say we were getting taken over by
zombies.” I got up. “I’m getting dressed. I feel weird wearing my
pajamas after watching that.”

After checking to make sure the bandaids were
all still holding on, I put on a pair of blue jeans and a dark
green tank top then tied my hair up in a ponytail. Lane was already
in jeans and one of our company t-shirts. Something ticked against
the window and the sound repeated itself.

“Is that…”

Lane nodded and brushed the blinds aside to
make sure. “Rain.”

I flicked channels until I stopped on the
Weather Network.

“What’s it say?”

“Plus ten.”

“Mother Nature knows it’s the middle of
January, right?”

I forgot about the weather as a car alarm
went off. “You can laugh at me if you want, but I’m going to get
the guns.”

Lane was the picture perfect of serious as he
followed me into the basement where we kept the hunting rifles
locked up. Once all of the ammo we had was in a backpack, we headed
back upstairs. I looked at my boots and shoes scattered at the
entrance.

“What are you thinking?”

“Steel toes.” I grabbed my work boots and put
them on then stood and slung my .270 Winchester across my back.
Lane started to laugh.

“You look like one of the chicks in those
zombie movies.”

“Oh, shut up. I highly doubt those are
zombies out there, but I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re sick or
high on the newest drug; if they try to step foot in this house,
they’re going to regret it.”

Lane gave a head tilt to show he agreed
before lacing up his work boots and loading his rifle. The rain and
wind had picked up and was joined by some of the brightest
lightning I’d ever seen. The resulting impact shook the house and
set off more car alarms, though these you could barely hear under
the roll of the thunder. Lane’s cell phone vibrated and he answered
by hitting the speaker mode.

“Hello?”

“Lane?” Michelle’s voice was just a
whisper.

“Michelle? What’s wrong?”

“I… someone just broke into the house.”

“Where are you?” Lane’s face dropped.

“I’m in the bathroom closet.

“Did you call the police?”

A crack of thunder drowned out her
answer.

“Oh, my god, they’re getting closer.” Her
voice went up an octave and for as much as I disliked the girl, I
was starting to worry.

Lane picked up the phone as if that would
help her situation. “Michelle, you have to run. Do you understand
me? Did you watch any more of the news? They’re sick. Whoever is in
your house will hurt you. Are you listening to me?”

“I can’t.”

“Jesus, Michelle! I’ll be right there, but
you have to run!”

“Michelle, listen to him! Whatever these
people have been infected with, they’re strong. I almost got killed
by a lady on my way home from the bar. Run, Michelle!”

The line stayed silent except for the puffing
of her breath.

“Ok.”

“Ok. Now, can you hear them?” Lane was hiking
the ammo filled back pack across his shoulder.

“No.”

I looked at Lane who was peeking through the
front door. I took the phone from him so he could go load the
weapons into the truck.

“Michelle, I’m going to count to three,
alright? On three, you run. Run as fast as you can, get out of the
house, and stay on twenty-eighth street. Do not stop running until
we get to you. We’ll be in the one ton.”

“You’re coming?”

“Now’s not the time! Damn it, Michelle! These
guys won’t just steal your jewelry and rape you then leave you be,
do you understand? They will KILL you!”

I ran out to the truck and locked the door as
I closed it. “Ok, Michelle. One… two… three!”

I heard her hit the wall and the front door
of her house slam shut. Lane peeled out of the driveway backwards,
screeched to a halt then squealed forward three blocks before
skidding around the corner and heading down twenty-eighth street.
The accelerator needle moved past the fifty kilometers per hour
speed limit and kept rising.

“There!” I pointed up ahead to the woman
running toward us. My heart dropped at the sight of three of the
yellow eyed freaks a half a block behind her. “Stop! Stop!” I
jerked forward as Lane slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded
to a stop on the wet pavement. I pushed open the door and clambered
into the box. Lane followed suit, already guessing what I’d
thought. I pushed the safety off, loaded a bullet, and locked the
lever down before bringing the rifle up to my shoulder.

“First shot.” Lane took aim though his scope,
and fired. Michelle screamed, but had enough sense to keep
running.

“Good.” I watched as his target fell to the
ground then moved slightly so I saw the second closest of them. I
held my breath to steady my aim and pulled back on the trigger. The
shot rang in my ear.

“Nice.” Lane’s confirmation that my shot was
a good one drowned out Michelle’s second scream. I let my breath
go.

“Shit, he’s too close to her.” Lane grunted
in frustration.

I put my hands to my mouth. “Michelle! Run
faster!”

Lane sat poised, ready to take the shot.

“She’s not going to make it!” I jumped out of
the box and ran toward the woman who hated me with every intention
of saving her.

“Gabby! Wait!”

I sprinted as fast as I could, Lane’s shouts
lost in the wind. I’d just finished deciding that I was going to
run past her and try to knock Yellow Eyes out with the butt of my
gun when I found myself being tackled from the side. The air left
my body in a rush as I landed under another of the Yellow Eyes. My
heart in my throat, I rolled and scrambled backwards until I stood.
She came at me again and I took a step toward her, swinging my
rifle as hard as I could. If her skull made any sort of noise as it
imploded, it was lost under the boom of thunder.

Lane’s shot, however, was clear as day and I
turned to see the Yellow Eyes that had been chasing Michelle fall
to the ground as it ran at me.

I dashed to Michelle’s side and knelt to look
her over. I fought to keep the bile from rising at the sight of her
throat bitten almost completely through so that the spine was
visible at the back. Her lifeless eyes stared up at me, her mouth
still open in a silent scream.

The truck stopped beside me and Lane raced
toward me.

“Gabby! Are you ok?” He pulled me up and ran
his hands over my arms, my face, my sides.

“I’m ok. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t see that
second one.”

He knelt beside Michelle, shaking his head
sadly. I put a hand on his shoulder and he reached back to place
his own over it. He took one deep breath and stood, my hand still
in his.

“Let’s go.” He tugged me toward the
truck.

The storm was ebbing away, most of the snow
now gone thanks to the rain and unbelievably warm weather.

I made sure the doors were locked before
reloading my gun. I looked up to see Lane staring at me.

“Are you ok?”

I frowned. “I told you I was. I’m… rattled,
scared shitless. God, I don’t know what I am. I mean, what the
fuck!”

He nodded, turned the truck around, and
headed for home. His jaw was clenched and he jumped as I put a hand
on his leg.

“Are you ok?” I wanted to slap myself. The
man had just watched his girlfriend get her throat ripped out. Of
course he wasn’t ok. “Do you want me to drive?”

He shook his head. My phone vibrated on the
dash and ‘Blood of Cuchulainn’ sounded through the cab.

“Gabby, here.”

“Gabby! Where are you?”

“Pete! We’re on our way home! Where are you?
Get indoors if you’re outside! Lock the doors! Is Marie with
you?”

“She’s fine. She’s here. We’re in front of
your house.”

The baby’s cries sounded through the
phone.

“Pete, if it’s safe, go to the second cedar;
the second round bushy one. Behind it, there’s a flat rock hiding
the spare key. Get in the house. Lock the door until we get
there.”

I almost dropped the phone as Lane swerved to
miss some Yellow Eyes walking down the middle of the road.

“I hate to sound like a wuss, Gabs…” Marie’s
scream cut him off.

“Pete! Where are they?”

“On the corner of the block. Sshhh. Marie,
babe, please. They haven’t seen us yet.”

Lane stepped on the gas.

“We’re about five blocks away. Sit
tight.”

“Christ, you can’t fight them! Gabby, what
are you planning on doing?” Pete’s voice sounded years younger than
the twenty-one I knew he was.

“Just get as low as you can, got it?” I ended
the call and hung on to my holy shit handle as Lane took the corner
onto our block. Pete’s light blue half ton was in our driveway. A
half a block farther down, in the middle of the road, a group of
four Yellow Eyes was making its way toward them.

“Hang on.” Lane accelerated past our house,
and I couldn’t help the scream that exploded from my chest as the
bumper connected with the four women. The truck humped up as one of
them fell under it. I heard the headlight smash as it hit another
in the side and sent her catapulting sideways. The last two came
over the hood and my scream redoubled its efforts as a face smashed
against the windshield a mere foot from my face. Lane’s arm was
strapped across my chest, holding me back.

One of the Yellow Eyes hit my window with her
fists and I scrambled toward Lane mere seconds before the window
was splattered with blood.

I jumped as someone tapped politely on the
glass and Lane rolled down the window so we could see. Pete stood,
wide eyed, his face bruised, his sledge hammer draped over his
shoulder. He gave a nod before running back to his truck while Lane
backed up onto the lawn.

I grabbed the backpack and my rifle before
running to the door and herding everyone inside.

“Oh, my god! What the fuck is going on?” Pete
was holding Marie to his chest, the baby cradled between them.

Lane took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Gabby, let’s see your arm. You’re bleeding.”