Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City (7 page)

“He didn’t need to,” Matt said. “Back before everything went to hell those gatehouses were staffed all day and night, twenty four by seven. Nothing came in or went out without being logged. Old man Bowman even had some deal with the Coast Guard. Some kind of shit where he dropped these big donations. In return, they helped keep an eye on his factory.”

“Ain’t no Coast Guard anymore,” Ted said.

“No, there is not,” Matt agreed. “I figure with all these fancy houses on the water around here, all we have to do is find one that still has a boat tied up.”

Luke was not so sure it was going to be that easy, but anything was better than standing around doing nothing more than waiting for a herd of zombies to come along. “Works for me,” he said.

“Good,” Matt replied. “Get your shit and let’s get a move on.”

The four of them went around to the back of the van. Ted opened it up and they began to select their guns. Luke preferred a shotgun and picked up his favorite, a police issue automatic that fired 12-gauge rounds from 10-round detachable magazine. They had taken it from a police cruiser about a month before. The thing kicked like a mule and made a crap-ton of noise, but it was a zombie mauling machine. He also stuck an aluminum baseball bat and a fresh pack of cigarettes into his backpack and slung the whole thing over his shoulder with the handle of the bat sticking out of the top. Luke preferred to not use the bat, but there had been a couple times it had saved his life when ammo ran out. Plus, he used it for silent kills when he had to.
Nothing like the rattle of gunfire to bring zombies on the run,
he thought.

Matt selected a .44 magnum pistol, what he liked to call his “Dirty Harry” gun, and tucked it into his belt. He also picked up a sledgehammer and carried it on his shoulder. Ted’s choice of weapon was an UZI he had used since before Luke had met him. Luke thought it was a typical crackhead choice, but he could not argue with its effectiveness against a horde. Luckily, the 9mm ammunition was relatively easy to find because the hillbilly was all about spray and pray with the thing. Pete had an MP5. Another find from a police cruiser. To Luke it looked like one of the guns the elite police used on television and in the movies. He was always nervous when Pete had it out because the kid wasn’t big on safety, but it was still a good weapon.

Finally, they were all armed and ready to move. “Let’s go, ladies,” Matt said and the four of them left from the back of the van and walked north across the highway and in the direction of the first gated community.

TASHA

Tasha was exhausted. The trip had been long, much longer than she had expected it to be. She had not anticipated having to work so hard to avoid creepers and signs of other survivors. Although she had finally made it safely to Alki Park and to the base of Broken Top, it had been dicey. She had seen creepers at a distance many times, but thankfully had not been detected by anyone or anything along the way. She had been careful, stopping every block to look and listen and then sprint to the next bit of cover. The exercise had tired her out immensely and she realized she was in lousy physical shape.
All those months in the cannery, hiding in the dark … I’m paying for it now,
she thought. Before the apocalypse, back in high school, she had been a three-sport athlete. Tasha had never considered herself to be a jock, but she had liked sports and participated in volleyball, basketball, and had been a standout on the school’s track team. Her last year had been her best season where she placed second at the state championships in the 100 meter hurdles.

None of that mattered now. Her legs were already spent and wobbly, yet she needed to climb Broken Top and she needed to do it soon. Being out in the open made her nervous. An old weathered sign said that she had 0.6 miles to go to get to the top. It was a steep, one way climb with an elevation gain of 313 feet. The sign also said there was a day use fee for the park.
Pretty sure no one will be checking for those again any time soon,
she thought. Looking up the road, she remembered how she had made the hike up to the top a few times before with her family and on those trips it had been a nice little walk. The memory made her ache inside and tears welled up in her eyes. Her family was gone now, victims of the virus. Tasha angrily wiped at her eyes.
Don’t think about that!
she scolded herself and walked forward past the sign and onto the road. She had only gone a few feet and around a small bend when she saw an old van on four flat tires parked right in the middle of the only way up. Pausing to watch, she soon realized there were two creepers stirring around inside of it. She immediately ran to the side of the road and hid in a narrow strip of brush. The last thing she needed was to be seen by creepers.

She spent the next hour exploring the hill’s base and tried to find another way up. Unfortunately, there was nothing. The sides of the hill were very steep, almost shaved straight up and down, reinforced during the second World War when they had put the bunkers in at the top of the small mountain. It was obvious that the military had purposely made sure that there was only one way up or down.
Damn,
Tasha thought,
why did they have to do their job so well?
Seeing it was hopeless to try to make it to the top without going up the road, she went back to watching the van. Laying on her stomach in the bushes, Tasha waited and hoped the creepers would wander off or something, but they seemed content to hang out inside the van. Frustrated, she was sure she would not be able to get around them without drawing their attention.
If I’m going to get up to that base, I’m going to need a distraction
, she thought. Never taking her eyes off the van, Tasha slipped off her backpack as quietly as she could and felt inside for her cans of cat food. She found two and set them in the dirt next to her before putting her pack back on. Once it was set, she tightened the straps until she was confident it would not slow her down. She got to one knee and picked up the two cans of cat food. Holding her breath, she threw the first one and it landed next to the van and skidded off and over the side of the road. The two creepers shot out of the van so fast Tasha almost cried out in surprise. They startled a third, which Tasha had not even seen, lying in the ditch. All three scrambled after the can. Tasha watched as they rooted around looking for whatever had made the noise, but after a few minutes, when they could not find it, the three of them slowly drifted to the far side of the road.

From her time running track in high school, Tasha knew what 100 meters looked like and the creepers were not even half that distance from her. She wanted at least a little more space to be able to run past the van without them seeing her, so she picked up the second can, took a deep breath, and threw it as hard as she could. The can sailed over the heads of the three creepers and better yet, landed on its edge so that it rolled.
Roll you son of a bitch!
she screamed in her mind and got into a sprinter’s stance. Her hair fell in her face and she slapped it away.
Roll you stupid can!

It rolled … and rolled. The creepers sprinted after it. Tasha estimated they were easily 50 meters away, maybe more.
Is that far enough to get past them?
She did not know how much distance she would need but realized it was now or never. Hoping that they would continue to chase the can and not her, she took a deep breath and took off. She ran as hard as she could.
Don’t look back
, she told herself.
Whatever you do, don’t look back
. She looked anyhow, she could not help herself, and they had seen her.
Damn it!

She ran harder but her legs were already burning and it was uphill. Her boots clapped the ground as she put her head down and pumped her arms.
Oh God! Please don’t let me die!
She ran. She could hear the creepers behind her. She looked back over her shoulder again and let out a cry of fear. They had already reached the van and were sprinting up the hill with their hands clawing the air in front of them.

How are they so fast?
she wondered. She looked up the hill and rounded a bend in the road. There were obstacles, barbed wire and cement barriers, spaced at intervals up the road. She had to run in a serpentine pattern to get around them. Her lungs burned and her legs ached. Behind her she heard one of the creepers crash into the wire and hoped it would slow it down. She looked up the road and groaned when she saw how far she still had to go. Her backpack was bouncing all over, so she let it slip off her shoulders and threw it to one side, hoping to distract her pursuers. She looked back again and saw the backpack catch in a roll of wire and do nothing to deter them at all.
They’re so close!
She ran to her left, along the edge of the sheer cliff, and looked back once again. One of the creepers was almost on top of her. Tasha screamed as it reached out and swiped at her hair trailing out behind her. The creeper caught a handful and with a growl, yanked hard on her hair. Her head snapped back and she felt a clump of hair separate from her head. The release sent her stumbling forward and she slipped off balance, almost falling off of the road and down the side of the mountain.

Scrambling to keep her feet, Tasha weaved hard right and tripped, falling into one of the road’s barriers. She felt the sharp sting of the barbed wire on her hands and arms and cried out. Twisting to try and escape, her hair caught in the wire. Panicked, she looked down the road and saw the three creepers coming after her, one with a fistful of her hair.
I’m never going to make it,
she thought with a scream in her throat.
No God, please no. Not like this.
The first two creepers were almost on top of her. Still snagged in the barbed wire, she fumbled around with her one free arm for a rock or something to fight back, when she heard a
Thwip!
It sounded like a large insect as it flew by her head. One of the creepers’ head exploded in a mess of blood and gore and the body tumbled to the asphalt. Stunned and confused, Tasha could only watch.
Thwip!
The center of the second creeper’s chest exploded and its body fell backward and rested on one of the cement barriers. It was all too much. Tasha opened her mouth to scream.

“Please don’t scream,” a muffled voice called out. “Don’t draw any more attention.”

Tasha turned to look up the road and watched a man in black battle fatigues, some kind of combat soldier, moving toward her. He was wearing a black mask and carried a very large and very long black rifle. Tasha sat in the road, sweat running down her face, thinking she might throw up, but did not scream. The soldier looked around as he took a knee on the road beside her. He took off his helmet and lifted his mask. He looked very young. “Are you injured?” he asked.

“One more,” Tasha said, gasping for air and pointing down the road.

“Oh!” the soldier said and looked over his shoulder at where she was pointing. Seeing the creeper, he turned, stayed on his knee and sighted through his rifle. Tasha looked past him and saw the third creeper was trying to stagger up the road. It had caught its sleeve on some of the barbed wire and the cloth of its filthy brown shirt was snagged. The creeper ignored the wire and kept pulling forward even though it was stuck.

“Hold still,” the soldier whispered to the creeper and fired the rifle.
Thwip!
Tasha expected the creeper’s head to disappear like the first, but the creeper still stood in the road, pulling at its shirt.

“Shit,” the soldier said and aimed down the rifle again. There was an enormous scope on top of the thing and the soldier looked through the glass.
Thwip!

This time the creeper’s head exploded in a red mist and the body crumpled to the ground. The soldier flipped a switch on the rifle and turned to Tasha. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I can only hit them when they are running.” He smiled at her so she knew he was joking. “So,” he said. “You okay?”

Tasha could only stare at him.

“I meant, have you been bitten?” the soldier asked.

“No,” she answered.
Thank God!

The young soldier reached for a radio on his shoulder and pressed a button. “Broken Top, this is Tanner,” he said. “We have a live one. Over.”

“Any more vegetables?” came a reply. “Over.”

“Negative,” the soldier said. “Just one female. I’m guessing … sixteen?” The soldier looked at Tasha and raised his eyebrows.

“Eighteen,” Tasha said, a little perturbed.

“Correction. Eighteen,” the soldier said into the microphone. “Over.”

“Who gives a shit how old she is?” came the reply. “Make nice later. Get your ass back up the mountain. Bring the survivor too. Over.”

Tanner stood up and looked down the road again. Satisfied that there were no more creepers coming up, he held out his hand to help Tasha to her feet. “Private Tanner,” he said.

Tasha looked at Tanner. He was armored from head to toe, with a helmet, fatigues, boots, canteens, pockets of extra ammunition, and a grenade belt over one shoulder. She estimated he was a bit taller than her and he looked lean and fit. She could not help but notice his eyes were very blue.
Maybe underneath all of that gear he is kind of cute,
she thought. Her eyes wandered to the gun he carried. It was enormous.

Tanner saw her staring at the rifle. “Sniper rifle,” he said. “Really it’s just a converted competition M4. We found an extended barrel and bored it out to handle a larger round.” He held it in both hands like he was presenting it for her. “The 7.62 caliber round travels faster and makes a larger impact. We outfitted it with a silencer so that we don’t attract the vegetables. It’s pretty effective.”

Tasha did not understand half of what he had said and held her hand up to show that she was not interested in taking it from him. All she really wanted was to get untangled from all the barbed wire and move somewhere out of the open. “Can you help me out of this?” she asked, waving at the barrier.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Tanner said and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He pulled at the wire to free her, but it only seemed to make it worse. “Shit, sorry.”

“Ouch!” Tasha said. Blushing now, Tanner took out some kind of multi-tool and adjusted it so that it exposed a pair of wire cutters.

“You’re really stuck,” he said.

No kidding!
Tasha thought but sat patiently while the soldier went to work. The silence grew awkward.

“I’m ‘B-negative’” she blurted out, but to her it sounded stupid, like ‘bee negative’.

“Excuse me?” Tanner replied, pausing.

“My blood type. It’s B-negative,” she said, but he only stared at her, clearly not understanding. “The helicopter dropped leaflets,” she continued. “They need volunteers with B-negative blood.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tanner asked. “No shit … I mean, no kidding.” He shrugged and went back to work on the wire. ”Hang tight, this might take a couple minutes,” he said, so Tasha blew out a breath of air and waited.