Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord (22 page)

“I feel terrible just leaving him here,” Zoe said.

“I know. But it’s not like we can take him with us.”

Zoe finished striping Jenson of his vest and weapons and gave them to Dr. Bailey. The doctor looked even more uncomfortable holding the rifle than the pistol, but he had at least proven to be a decent shot at close range.

“Come on. No time to waste,” Dr. Bailey said. He slipped the backpack full of meds over his shoulder and threw open the rear door. It took less than a second later for all of us to realize he made a huge mistake.

A throng of zombies were on the other side of the door, fighting to get inside.

We’d already wasted too much time.

Waiting for Jenson to pass.

Saying goodbye.

The doctor yelped and tried to shove the door closed but the weight of the group was too strong for him to hold back by himself.

Not knowing the virtues of patience, the dead ones tried to get in all at once. They dug their ashen arms and emaciated heads through the foot wide opening, reaching and clawing and spitting blood. I raised my rifle and started to fire through the opening while Zoe pressed her shoulder into the door and helped Dr. Bailey hold them back. Working together, we made some progress, but the dead limbs still prevented the door from being closed.

Before long, my magazine was spent, but the infected kept up the assault on the door, and all the progress we had made quickly evaporated.

I pulled a full magazine from my vest and popped it into the rifle, but Zoe stopped me from going any further.

“Call Ray!” she shouted over the restless groans of the dead. Her teeth were clenched, her face pulled back in a grimace, as she used every last ounce of strength within her to hold back the horde. “Tell him to go ahead and start the helicopter. We’re gonna have to shoot our way out of here.”

I lowered the rifle and unclipped the radio receiver from my vest. Holding down the large button on the side, I said, “Ray…are you there? Can you hear me?”

I removed my finger from the button and waited. A second later Ray answered, but the static interference was so bad I couldn’t make out what he said.

“Can you repeat that? You broke up.” Again, nothing but a long stream of static emitted from the radio. I began walking toward the front of the pharmacy. “Still can’t here you.”

More static, and then Ray’s voice started to come through.
“I…what’s…something…”

“Just keep talking,” I said, continuing to move around. “I can hear you a little bit.” I could also hear the infected in the pharmacy waiting room scratching at the door we’d come in through.

“I can hear you now, too,”
Ray said with only a small touch of interference.

“Hey man, it’s Jimmy, are you in the helicopter?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Go ahead and get it started.”

“Okay. You almost out of there?”

“No, we’re trapped in the pharmacy. The infected have the place surrounded, and they’re trying to break in. We may have to shoot our way out of here.”

“What floor are you on? I’ll come help.”

“No, don’t come help. Just start the helicopter.”

“I’ll do that. But I’m coming down to help whether you like it or not, so just tell me what floor. Please.”

I sighed, wondering how to proceed. If something were to happen to Ray, we’d have no quick and easy ride back. But it was possible we might still be able to make it by car, or if we waited long enough, Paul might send out a search party to look for us. On the other hand, I knew our chances of successfully shooting our way out were slim to none. They had us trapped. It was a hundred of them against three of us—in the dark. There was no window to escape through this time, and no amount of bullets could save us.

“Second floor,” I finally said. “On the far end.”

Ray said nothing in response.

I reattached the radio to my vest and hustled to the back of the pharmacy. Zoe and Dr. Bailey were still struggling with the door. I jumped in and helped push.

“Well…” Zoe said, gasping for breath.

“He’s coming down here.”

“Why? He’s gonna get himself killed.”

“Maybe. I told him not to come but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Think you could take over for a bit while I shoot?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

With Zoe commanding the rifle, the doctor and I were almost able to get the door closed. But almost wasn’t good enough. A half a dozen arms still hung between the door and the wall, preventing us from closing it all the way. Zoe reloaded and put another thirty rounds into the horde, and as one would drop, another would move forward to take its place. Out of ideas, she took out her knife and began chopping at the limbs. As each appendage dropped, she’d reach down and pull it out of the way. Then back to cutting, slashing, hacking. And little by little, inch by inch, the effort was paying off.

Finally, after a solid minute of work, the door slammed closed. Dr. Bailey and I collapsed to the floor, sucking in big mouthfuls of the hot, stinking air. Zoe wiped the messy knife off on her shirt and joined us, sitting with our backs to the door. The zombies in the hall didn’t sound pleased.

We sat there on the floor resting, letting the oxygen refuel our tired muscles, barely saying a word to one another. We even turned the flashlights off to conserve the batteries.

And so we waited. For hope, or for death.

I wasn’t sure anymore which was better.

Ten minutes passed before the sudden sound of gunfire gave us new energy, springing us back on our feet.

Ray must have grabbed the last rifle from the helicopters storage compartment and was out there spraying bullets. The three of us ran toward the front of the pharmacy, where the shots seemed to be coming from.

I put my ear against the door. I no longer heard the same scratching I heard before.

“I think he’s drawing them away,” I said.

“That’s good,” Zoe replied. “But we still have to run through them to get back to the stairs.”

While the gunfire continued out in the waiting room, I carefully cracked open the door. As I suspected, the zombies were moving away. I gently closed the door and removed the radio from my vest.

“That should be enough, Ray,” I said. “Go now. Make a run for it. We’ll do the same.”

Though he didn’t reply, the gunfire ceased, letting me know he’d probably heard me.

We all flipped our flashlights back on. I glanced over at my companions. “Now or never.”

“Just run…and run hard,” Zoe said. “Don’t look back.”

“Do you remember the way?” Dr. Bailey asked.

Zoe nodded. “I remember.”

I threw open the door. Not shy about taking the lead, Zoe ran out with her rifle up, lighting the way. Going the same direction as the herd of infected but three times as fast, we weaved in between them like an NFL running back. The staircase on the east end of the floor was the end zone.

At certain points, Zoe would slow down and tap off a few shots from her rifle to clear the way. I stayed in her wake, kept my finger off the trigger, afraid of accidentally shooting her in the back. I hoped Dr. Bailey was still behind me, though I wasn’t going to turn around and see, not until we reached the finish line.

Just run. Run hard. Don’t look back.

You got it sister!

We took a right turn, a left, and then another right. We made it to the final straightaway. Having passed most of the infected, Zoe slowed down and took out the last few in front of us. And then we made a break for the door to the stairwell, up two flights of stairs as fast as we could, and emerged onto the roof.

The sun slowed us down more than any zombie could, blinding us. We bent over until our eyes adjusted to the light. Ahead, Ray was climbing the short set of stairs to the helipad.

“Get to da choppa!” I yelled.

I’d always wanted to say that.

Just as we had requested, Ray had the helicopter on and ready to go. The long blades spun fast overhead creating a sharp downward wind as we approached the blue and white bird.

“Where’s Jenson?” Ray asked.

“He didn’t make it,” Dr. Bailey replied. “He got bit.”

“And so he died?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, that’s how it works.”

“Oh.”

Mere seconds after we were safely inside—Dr. Bailey in the left front seat, me and Zoe in the back—Ray took us up.

I put my head back and closed my eyes, okay with not seeing the city sights from above on the way back to the school. I just wanted to relax, clear my thoughts. We’d only been gone an hour or two but I missed my friends. I couldn’t wait to see them—to get a hug from Robinson, a fist bump from Bowser, and a kiss from Peaches. They’d all be proud of me for stepping up, as I was proud of myself, but mostly they’d just be glad I made it back.

I opened my eyes and glanced at Zoe beside me. She had her head down, a sad look on her face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, not looking over.

It was obvious she was thinking about Jenson, and about what she was going to say to Paul when we got back. The three of them were the original founders of the school, and now one was gone. Jenson had paid the ultimate price for the mission, and for Craig. I only hoped the antibiotics would do their job, and Jenson’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

A moment later Zoe couldn’t hold it back anymore. I tried not to stare while she cried into her hands.

I knew exactly how she felt. I’d been there many times before, and I had little doubt I’d be in that same place again soon enough. However, in that moment, all I wanted to do was coast back into the comfort of the school, basketball and board games, and pretend for a while longer that the world hadn’t died.

But fate wouldn’t let me go quietly.

We left the grid of buildings behind and glided over the wooded, swampy areas that stood between the city and the school, when all of a sudden the smooth motion of the helicopter began to dissipate, causing us to flutter from side to side.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Bailey asked.

“Sorry,” Ray said, and cleared his throat. From the backseat, I could see his head rolling around unsteady on his shoulders. “Just don’t feel so well.”

Well that’s not something a passenger in an aircraft ever wants to hear the pilot say, and given all that we’d just been through—or
run
through—the implications could be even worse.

I nudged Zoe. “Ray said he’s not feeling well.”

Her sadness was replaced by a grim look of absolute terror. I imagined I had a similar look on my face.

The helicopter shifted again as Ray’s head bobbed down and then up again.

“Ray!” Zoe shouted over the helicopter noise. “Were you bit?”

When Ray didn’t answer, Dr. Bailey placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder and repeated the question. “Were you bit?”

Ray kept his gaze forward. “I’m…fine.”

The school appeared beyond the trees in the distance. We were almost there, only a minute or so away. The only question was if Ray could make it that long. His head fell forward again. As if mimicking his motion, the chopper pitched its nose downward. Dr. Bailey hurried to shake Ray awake, and we leveled off again.

I remember thinking that the ride back in the helicopter would be quick and easy.

Quick, yes.

Easy, definitely not.

Zoe sat up and leaned toward the cockpit. “Ray…tell us the truth. You were bit, weren’t you?” Again, Ray didn’t answer. It was quite possible he hadn’t even heard her. “Oh fuck! We need to land right now!”

“Weee’ll…maaake…it,” Ray said, slurring his words.

“No,” Dr. Bailey said, shaking Ray awake again as he began to fade. “We need to go down now!”

And we were.

Our altitude dropped at a quick pace.

Unsure of what to do, Dr. Bailey looked back at me and Zoe. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fly this thing. I wish I did.”

Ray suddenly slumped forward on the control stick.

Dead.

Dr. Bailey grabbed him and pulled him back upright, but unfortunately couldn’t prevent Ray’s feet from working the rear rotor pedals. Besides pitching downward, the helicopter now began to spin.

I took a deep breath and held tight to the seatbelt straps as we continued to rapidly descend toward the trees below, and the schoolyard just beyond them. There was nothing any of us could do but brace for impact. And pray.

I closed my eyes, squeezed out a few tears.

I’d heard people say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes. I wasn’t sure how anyone living would actually know that, unless they could talk to the dead. But there in the helicopter, as it spun out of control like some evil carnival ride, my life didn’t pass before my eyes. I didn’t see my birth, or my grandma’s face, or the used bookstore, or relive any of my memories growing up.

I thought only of Peaches.