Dead Moon: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (17 page)

32

I join John at the front of our little survivalist group. A group that is now two less in number. His look, while hard and true, is now even firmer—angrier.

“You probably already know this,” I whisper, “but fighting angry rarely works out for you...” I step in front of him and stop, “or the people you’re trying to protect.”

He meets my eyes and I see them soften a pinch. It’s the only acknowledgment I get as he steps around me, continuing his march forward. The guy is determined if anything, but I suspect he gets what I just said.

Dad would be proud.

It was another of his teachings when he was training me. Fighting angry rarely works out, because you generally don’t think straight. A boxer needs to be intense and intimidating, but they also need to think rationally and strategically. I’d assume a soldier—Special Forces or not—would be the same.

The dead don’t thin out as we hit the halfway point of our romp through the
Train of Doom.
They must have been trying to bus people out when Abaddon was incoming, trying to leave the area.

Didn’t work out too well.
Especially when we lost power. I’m still trying to figure that one out. Near as I can tell the only reason that would happen if an electromagnetic pulse of some kind wiped out every circuit around. But if that were true, then everything, including Vinny’s truck, would’ve been out of commission as well.

My thoughts are interrupted by an all too familiar sound of scratching nails. It echoes through the car, stopping us in our tracks. I nudge John, getting the zoned-in man’s attention.

“We need to move faster.”

He nods and sets his pace at a fast walk. I quickly follow, Jill right behind me. Carla is next, followed by Vinny who’s continuing to glance behind us, keeping watch.

BOOM!

The roof above us bends in slightly, getting a shriek out of Carla. It’s followed by two quick shots from Vinny as he punches twin-holes through the ceiling with his shotgun. A shriek arises, his rounds apparently finding their intended target.

Carla continues her retreat and rolls her ankle, spilling to the metal floor. Landing like she did normally wouldn’t have been too bad, expect when she does, she falls into a sludgy pile of gore. On her hands and knees, Carla vomits, quickly realizing what she’s laying in.

Vinny hauls her up, but doesn’t get the chance to console her. Another boom and crunch follow, spurring me into motion.

“Run!” I half-yell, half-whisper.

John doesn’t argue the point and takes off, Glock still pointed forward. Jill and I are hot on his heels, as are Vinny and Carla. Well, Vinny mostly… He’s basically carrying the blood-soaked woman now, opting for a more controlled option. She now goes as fast as he goes—which is still pretty quick for a big guy carrying another human being on his shoulder like a potato sack.

We exit the subway car at a sprint, turning and heading for the stairs to street level. We need to get inside whatever building we can and hide. I don’t even want to speculate on what could be chasing us, but the dents in the metal roof of the subway car tells me it’s at least one Siren—maybe
more
than one.

John leads the way and quickly scales the steps to the outside, stopping as he reaches the top. He peeks out in every direction and ushers us forward. Jill and I pass him as he raises his gun.

The D’Angelo’s are next, following closely behind. Vinny forcibly yanks Carla up the steps as she stumbles and trips on a broken heel.

We definitely need to find better shoes.

“Move it!” I yell and take off down 72nd, gripping Jill’s hand. Four shots from John, aimed back down the stairs, sends me into another gear as I push myself, and Jill, even faster. We can only move so quickly though since she’s still in heels like Carla, but it’s good enough for the time being.

Thank God she’s an athlete
, I think as I run. Her natural balance is paying off big time right now… Unlike Carla.

“Where are we going?” Vinny yells, following along closely, still dragging Carla along.

“There’s a sporting goods store a block-and-a-half away, between Columbus and Broadway! Head for it!”

“
Tortoise and Hare
?” Jill asks, doing her best to keep up.

“Yep, it’s where I bought you those yoga pants you like so much. They also have running shoes and outerwear.” 

“Good!” she yells, but continues in a voice only loud enough for me to hear. “Because I’m freezing my nipples off!”

My foot catches something at the outburst, but I don’t fall. We just continue to run as fast as possible. Mid-stride, I turn to her. “God I’ve missed you.”

She smiles. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Faster!”

I turn and glance behind me, seeing John running for his life. The look of fright is one I’ve unfortunately seen from someone running away from the Unseen. It means they are behind us and gaining.

We blow through the crosswalk at Columbus, rapidly approaching the sporting goods store. Cars are like they are everywhere—piled up. Bodies clutter the ground in various forms of decomposition and decay.

What’s left of them anyways.

“Damnit,” I say, turning again. I can’t see anything behind Vinny’s hulking form. “What do you have, John?”

“Four guys and another lady,” he shouts. “Coming up fast.”

“Okay,” I yell back. “You and Vinny, on me. Jill and Carla keep going to the store. Get inside and hide.”

No one argues and I get a tight squeeze on my hand.

“I’ll be fine. Just sit tight and shoot anything that isn’t us.”

“Okay,” she replies. “Just be careful.”

“Now!”

I turn stop next to Vinny, pointing our shotguns behind us. John stops a few yards in front of us and raises his gun, only to have a clawed hand burst through his back. The barrel to my Mossberg dips slightly as the bloodied face of a Siren, leans out from behind the night guard. My chest constricts at seeing his arms and feet spasming in shock, but there’s nothing we can do. The Siren punched a hole clean through his sternum, no doubt rupturing countless organs and arteries.

In John’s last moment of heroic defiance, he snaps up his gun, shoves it under the Siren’s chin, and pulls the trigger. The bullet bursts through the creature’s skull, splattering the incoming Goblins with brain and blood. I watch as the two combatants fall to the side together in slow-motion, still locked in combat, both dead on their feet.

The gun I lent John goes flying, kicked forward by a falling body and lands at Vinny’s feet.

Firing, we make quick work of the four Goblins, killing each with a shell a piece. I step forward, towards the carnage, hoping there’s something I can do for the man, but am held back by a strong, yet gentle, hand.

“Come, my friend.”

I turn to him, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “He died a hero. The best way to thank him is to survive.”
Like Betty
, I think. He then bends down and picks up the discarded weapon.

I nod slightly, and turn, following my cousin.

Three doors later we arrive at the
Tortoise and Hare
. I watch as Vinny’s shaking hand opens the door for me. We enter in silence. It’s not until I see Jill stand up from behind the front counter, gun in hand, that I let my emotions take over. I fall to my knees and weep, my built up resolve completely gone.

Jill falls next to me and wraps her arms around me. “What’s wrong? Where’s John?”

Through tear-filled eyes I see Vinny shake his head, silent as a mime.

“Oh, no…” Jill’s arms tighten. “I’m so sorry.”

I sob again, getting what feels like a lifetime’s worth of tears out of my system. I wasn’t close to Sergeant Sneeden—hell I only just met the man. But he was a good man. A hero. I will never forget what he’s done for us.

I stand and wipe my eyes. Turning, I walk over to the front doors of the shop and lock them. The thick wood framing and dense glass will make for great cover and hopefully hide us from any wondering mobs. They can smell us, I have no doubt about it, but the scent of death outside is overpowering. Sometimes hiding in plain sight is the best option.

“What are you doing?” Jill asks.

“We’re spending the night here. The sun will be setting soon and it’s getting colder outside. Plus, there’s near zero visibility at night, remember? Romping through the city will be suicide.” Carla’s about to argue even though I explained it earlier. I cut her off, not at all in the mood. “I want to leave as soon as possible too, but our best chance of surviving is waiting for the sun to rise.”

I end the statement by walking deeper into the store. I sit on one of the stores many benches and look up, seeing my distraught reflection in a full-length mirror. Mentally, I’m about to smash it to bits, but I feel Jill sit down next to me.

“You’re not the man I met all those years ago… Or even last week.”

That gets a slight smile out of me, which is a lot considering what just happened. “No… I’m not.”

“You’re better.”

I turn and see the same hungry look in her eyes I saw in the tunnel. The way the sun is peeking through the glass storefront makes her face glow in the light, stirring up my insides again.

“Do you know if this place has somewhere private for us to properly refamiliarize ourselves with one another?”

She smiles wide and takes my hand, leading me into the store’s stockroom. She’s on me as soon as I shut the door, barely having time to turn around.

33

Monday morning

A rustling sound wakes me, sending me into another mini panic attack. I’ve yet to get used to waking up in a strange place and it’s something I hope to
never
get used to actually. But I can’t expect anything different, I guess. Death encompasses me—us—wherever we go. Honestly, what else am I supposed to feel when I’m constantly waking up wondering if I’m next? It’s quite frightening.

I draw my gun, scaring the only other person in the dark room with me. She jumps at my sudden and violent movement, dropping her bra. While normally I’d be quite pleased to have a half-naked Jill in front of me, I’m actually mortified. I almost shot her.

“Sorry,” I say, sitting up and handing her back the undergarment. It’s of the sports variety and should give her adequate support. I’ve nicknamed them,
Boob Nazis
, for obvious reasons. I secretly hate the things. Again, for obvious reasons.

She takes the constricting device and squeezes into it. “You okay?”

I nod. “It’s become habit, waking, thinking I’m about to die.”

Seeing the goosebumps on her obviously cold skin, I stand, and hand her a skintight thermal long sleeve. It was an easy guess that the shirt was hers since the tags were torn off and lying next to it. A bundle of black sportswear accompanies it, including the black cold weather running pants she already has on. She must have gone
shopping
while I slept, coming back here to change. The shoes are black as well and are duplicates to the pair she has back at the house.

‘Had’ back at the house.

“Black?” I ask.

She shrugs, slipping into the thermal, noticeably relaxing at being a little less exposed to the elements. “Figured it’ll be easier to hide. I just wanted to be cautious.”

Not wanting to point out that the Unseen are blind and make her feel bad, I agree and hand her a matching black jacket and beanie.

“The night everything went to hell, we heard shouting and gunfire outside the doors. I’m not sure if any people will still be around now, but I guess it’s better safe than sorry at this point.”

Ah. She’s right.
If there are any more gunmen around, the all black attire will definitely help with stealth.
And now I feel like a prick thinking she was an idiot.

I inwardly shrug.
If anything, she’ll match and her ass and legs will look spectacular. To those of us with eyes, that is.

I actually smile at the thoughts I’m having. They haven’t been this…provocative…in a while—years maybe. The realization that I could have actually lost Jill forever, like those of the dead city, has passionately rekindled my love for her.

My wanting of her… My need for her.

I may never admit this out loud, but my wife completes me in ways I never thought possible. The sensitive side is just mind-boggling considering I thought the two of us were just treading water, emotionally dead. There hasn’t been any
true
passion in quite some time.

Like what happened last night before we passed out in each other’s arms.

Shaking away the vision of her vulnerable form, I grip the door handle and step out. I’m instantly greeted by a pulsating red light, shining through the store’s glass doors like the sun would a stained-glass window. It then warbles like before, almost like it’s coming to life.

“When?” I ask, unable to formulate a full question.

“It’s why I got dressed,” Jill says, leading me back out into the store. “I was going to wake you after I finished getting ready.” She throws on the sock hat, adjusting it slightly. “We were only asleep for about few hours. It’s just after midnight, but the sky is lit like it’s noon.”

High-noon in the Underworld maybe...

I stomp forward and exit one of the long rows of shoes and see that Vinny and Carla are awake too. Carla is in a similar style getup as Jill, minus the all black. She’s adorned in a kaleidoscope of florescent
running
colors.

Like a peacock made of highlighters
, I think, trying to hold back my smile.

“What?” Carla asks, catching me.

Fail.

“Nothing,” I say, turning to Jill, flickering my eyebrows, “you look…
great
.”

Not sensing my jab, Carla turns back to what she was doing, leaving me alone with Jill and Vinny.

“Abaddon?” I ask Vinny, who has also added a beanie to his own head. His hair is pulled back, giving me a solid view of his bandaged face and neck.

He nods. “I opened the doors just enough to check. It’s awake again.”

“Not good.”

“Again?” Jill asks.

“Yep, it flashed us like this right before we were attacked at the museum. It sent the mass of creatures for us. It wasn’t a fluke or anything else. At least I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” I look into Jill’s eyes so she fully understands the ramifications of what I’m about to say. “I’m not sure how, but I believe it was a coordinated assault.”

Her mouth hangs open. “It’s alive?”

I shrug. “Not entirely sure if it’s what we Earthlings would call
alive
, but something is sure as hell leading these things around the city. It’s only recently that we put two-and-two together. Before then, I thought it was just shit luck.” I turn back to the relocked doors. “Now… I’m not so sure.”

“Frank,” Jill says, grabbing my arm, scared. “We need to get off this island.”

I comb out my hair with my fingers, breathing in deep, doing my best to not grimace in pain at having to lift my shredded left arm. “Okay,” I say through gritted teeth, “if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need to move fast.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Carla says, motioning to her new running shoes.

“Wasn’t talking about you two.”

I unclip the half empty ammo belt from across my chest and then take off my jacket. The latter gets a gasp from the girls. Vinny doesn’t react, though. He’s seen me in worse shape. My upper arm is covered in drying blood, the puncture wounds having been opened again, soaking the sleeve of my thermal. The puncture wounds, plus the original cut in my shoulder from the broken glass, makes it look like I went toe-to-toe with a Bengal tiger.

Jill’s eyes ask the question for her.

“I’m fine. Could use a new shirt though.” She runs off, still listening. “Remember when the Siren rode our truck like a surfboard?” She’s facing away from me, but her head nods. “I haven’t been able to let it heal properly with all the running and what have you. It’ll be fine once we are finished here.”

“I think there’s a first aid kit in the back,” Carla says, leaving us, Vinny going with her.

I try to remove my other layers, but can’t get my arm high enough to get either the undershirt or the thermal off. Silently, Jill steps over and helps, taking some of the pressure off my limb.

Once I get both shirts off, Jill really gets to see what I’ve been through. “Frank…” Her eyes tears up again, but I hold up my good hand.

“It looks worse than it is.”

Lie.

My body is locking up as the hours go by. I was loose up until recently, but once I laid down the muscles relaxed and then stiffened. Now, everything is as tight as a wound spring. It’s actually the first I’ve seen myself without a shirt off since Harvey’s, but the bruising from the fire escape fiasco hadn’t set in yet.

She gently touches my discolored ribs, getting a groan and a twitch from me.

“Sorry,” she says, stepping back.

“No, it’s fine. Ticklish, remember?”

She doesn’t smile. She just returns to my side and looks me over some more. “How…” She looks into my eyes. “How did you do it? There’s no way I would have made it.”

Before I can answer her, Carla and Vinny break up our little powwow and reenter the sales floor, bearing the gift of aid.

Even Vinny looks worried, seeing the onset of my yellow and purple bruising. I can’t read Carla since she won’t look at me for more than a second. This is probably all too much for her and she’s doing whatever she can to keep it together. Seeing my destroyed body might send her over the edge.

“I’ll do it,” Jill says, taking the plastic box marked with a red cross. She opens it quickly and finds my arch nemesis… “This is probably going to hurt.”

Damn you rubbing alcohol. Damn you to hell.

The light outside intensifies as I think the word
hell.

Great, it can read my thoughts too.

The room shakes, making Carla screech and all but leap into Vinny’s arms, stumbling him slightly. He holds her as the room continues to quake, tipping over storefront displays and countless shoeboxes.

No one says a word. We just stare at each other, not wanting to know what just happened. I look down at my arm and then to Jill.

“Better hurry with that. We need to go.”