Outbreak: Brave New World (12 page)

Jessica looked pale. “Where’s George?” she asked almost to herself. The woman stood up carefully, as if she was not sure if her legs would bear her weight. “George was outside, wasn’t he?”

Adam held a finger up in front of his lips and moved over to the gun cabinet. He snatched out his battered M16, shoved a magazine from his plate carrier into the weapon’s magazine well and chambered a round. It took him a couple tries because his hands were shaking so badly. “You guys stay here and be quiet.” he said quietly, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “I’ll find George. I’ll knock three times then jiggle the handle before I come in, alright?”

Lacey paused at the door, eyes closed and taking a few deep breaths before pushing open the door. It thudded into something just on the other side so he pointed his rifle at it and shoved a little harder, rolling the corpse out of the way. “Back in a minute.” Adam whispered as he covered the creature and elbowed the door shut.

There was a low hum in his ears as he quietly rounded the dining room table, covering the hall that led to the master bedroom, bathroom and the foyer beyond. Adam swallowed his throat gummy and dry as he moved to the side so that he could see inside the bedroom. He flicked on the tac light clamped to his rifle’s handguard and after no threat presented itself, the Marine moved into the hall. Forcing himself to remain calm, Adam then checked the bathroom before pressing on into the foyer.

The back door was open a little bit, the two by fours
leaning against the wall next to it.
Shit!
Lacey thought as he moved into the little room, pivoting to cover the space as he entered
George must still be outside
. He moved to the door and paused, his ringing ears straining to see if he could tell what was going on out there. There was no window in the door, which was good for security but bad if you wanted to peek outside.

He paused, his nonfiring hand on the door handle.
One, two, three!
Adam counted off to himself and on three he tugged the door open, lifting his rifle up as he bent his knees a little to get some sort of cover from the concrete on his left hand side. He swept the area to his right, a little relieved to see that it seemed secure enough. The man’s heart turned to a cold lump of ice and dropped into the pit of his stomach when he spotted a deep red pool of blood on the cement maybe a dozen feet from the back door.

“Oh, shit…” Adam muttered as he cautiously moved towards the blood. “Mister Frays? Are you out here?” he asked as loudly as he dared. The young man tensed, hoping to hear an answer. If George had gotten a shot off he did not hear it…

He thought he heard a scraping noise coming from near the cars, so Lacey moved forward a little and pointed his M16 towards the area where he thought the sound was coming from. A short pallid figure of a rail thin teenage girl in dirty jeans and a torn tee shirt lurched around the corner of Mister Lacey’s van. Lacey lined up his sights on her head as he flicked his selector lever from Safe to Semi.

“Hey kid, you alright?” he asked quietly, hoping that she would answer. She snarled and rushed forward wild eyed with her hands extended in front of her, the girl’s fingers curled up like claws. Lacey back peddled as he squeezed off a couple shots at the creature’s face. The first round obliterated the zombie’s jaw and
blew a chunk out of its neck, the second a little higher and to the right cracking the creature’s head almost in half like a rotten melon when it fell to the blacktop. A thick paste of infected grey matter slopped out of the creature’s cranium.

Lacey reengaged his weapon’s safety and glanced slowly over both shoulders, looking around to see if anything else was trying to sneak up on him.
He saw that the door leading to the woodshop was open a crack. “George? Answer up, Mister Frays!” Adam said again, a little louder this time. He waited, hoping that the man would hear him and come out.

Seconds felt like hours. With extreme cauti
on Lacey moved towards the door flicking his rifle towards the shadowy recesses under the overhang in case anything was hiding there. Adam paused at the top of the stairs then threw his shoulder into the open door, sending it slamming into the shelf behind it. Lacey swept his rifle around inside the workshop then groped around with his left hand and flicked on the lights. There was a wet smacking sound coming from the other side of the room but he could not see where it was coming from. The halogen bulbs flickered for a few seconds then hummed to life, filling the room with yellowish light. “Mister Frays, you in here?” Adam wondered aloud as he moved cautiously around the table saw. A thick set man stood up, his lank hair matted with dirt and turned to face him, its face slick with blood. Lacey dropped it with another headshot the second its eyes met his.

He noticed more blood near the door and frowned as the smell of fresh blood filled his nose. “Aw, shit…” Adam spotted George’s crumpled form in the corner, the front of his sh
irt covered in blood. The creature had ripped open his stomach and was helping itself to handfuls of his insides when it had been interrupted. “Aw shit. Aw shit. Aw shit.” Lacey shook his head slowly and backed away as the man stirred then started pulling himself to his feet, using the bench bolted to the wall next to him for leverage.

George finally managed to stand, his intestines flopping out of his middle
and landing in a slimy pile at his feet making a sound like a sopping wet mop head slapping against the floor. It stepped on its own guts when it started on a drunken charge towards the Marine, slipped and went down hard hitting the wooden floor with a syrupy thud. It groaned and started trying to scramble after Lacey as he backed away, the creature having difficulty getting traction in the mess on the floor. Adam pointed his rifle at George’s head, trembling as the creature slipped and slid in his direction. The rifle shot cracked, taking his…its head off.

Lacey turned and leaned against the shelf behind him, suddenly feeling very very sick. He puked, vomiting up his
breakfast and probably a little of dinner from the night before too. “Oh, God.” he whispered as he shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Laura! The kids!” Adam burst out of the workshop and sprinted back into the house, blind panic replacing the caution with which he had previously moved through the area.

“Laura? Becca? Paulie?” Adam called as he rushed down the hall and into the dining area, his feet barely touching the ground. He nearly stumbled over the deactivated zombie piled up on the floor next to the bedroom door, threw it open… Laura looked up at him when he came into the room, her face shining and wet in the dim light streaming in from the door.

Lacey raised his rifle, breath shuddering in his chest. “Hon?” he said quietly as he disengaged the weapon’s safety. “Are you okay? Where’s Mrs. Frays?” Adam turned on his tac light and stumbled back, bounced off the doorframe and stood shuddering just outside the bedroom his breath coming in small panicky gasps.

Laura had her arms around Jessica’s torso, holding the older woman to her chest as she gnawed on the soft flesh of her throat and shoulder, almost making Adam think for a strange half second that his wife was making out with Frays’ mom.
His wife pushed the body off of her lap, where it rolled off the bed and fell to the carpet with a wet heavy thump. Vacant eyed and hands grasping, Laura rose to her knees and slipped off the foot of the bed striking her head on the floor with a terrific crunch.

Adam stood
in the dining area for a moment listening to the snapping gurgling noises his wife was making in the bedroom. Gathering his courage the Marine crept back inside, pointing his rifle at the area where it sounded like where his wife might be. She lay half on the bed neck obviously badly broken staring up at him with her mouth opening and closing like one of the fish that he had cleaned a few days ago.

A sort of numbness crept over him as he pointed his M16 at Laura’s head. “I’m so sorry, baby.” he mumbled,
his voice cracking as he choked on tears. Adam took a couple deep breaths and steeled himself, flicked the safety off index finger tightening on the trigger. “I love you.” Lacey squeezed his eyes shut as his finger finally, excruciatingly tripped the trigger.

He walked around the bed to Mrs. Frays and paused, staring at the woman’s ruined neck. Adam
fortified himself again and fired a single shot through her skull. Lacey sank onto the bloodstained bed and sat there staring at the muzzle of his rifle. Frays, Rodriguez and Carl were out risking their asses on a fool’s errand because he had been too fucking stupid to not let Frays do what should have been done. Now George and Jessie and the kids… Tears streaming silently down his cheeks, Lacey tucked the M16’s muzzle under his chin and groped for the trigger…

Something moved under the bed, little voices whispered to each other. “Oh my God!” Adam shouted
as he leapt up and reengaged the rifle’s safety. “Becca? Paulie? Are you guys alright? Where are you?” Lacey knelt beside the bed and glanced under it, relief washing over him when he saw two frightened faces looking back at him. He reached out and caught hold of his kids, picked them up and hurried them out of the bedroom. “Don’t look, guys. Don’t look.”

Lacey bundled his children out onto the deck and set them down. “Are you guys okay? Are you hurt?” Adam asked as he tried to calm himself down and
check the kids for injuries. “It’s alright. Daddy’s here.”

“Mrs. Frays made us get under the bed.” Becca explained as her daddy lifted her arms, ran his hands all over her. “She said it was hide an’ go seek.” Daddy sat down in a chair on the deck, looking pale and kind of scared. Becca and Paulie climbed into his lap, drawing comfort from his embrace. After a few moments Lacey rubbed his children’s backs and lowered them onto the deck.

“I gotta do some stuff.” he said quietly, forcing a smile as he looked in his children’s eyes. “You two just stay here and be quiet. Daddy will be right back.” Adam almost tousled their hair until he realized that there were flecks of blood and what he really hoped was not bits of grey matter on his hands. Lacey smiled over his shoulder then, once he was in the house, rushed over to the sink and frenetically scrubbed his hands and face in the kitchen sink. As an added measure he slathered himself with alcohol based hand sanitizer he found on the counter next to the sink to try and kill whatever germs might be on him.

“Okay.” he told himself after he shut off the water, staring at the soapy liquid as it circled the drain. “You’re gonna get some trash bags or something, put on your rubber gloves and take…the bodies…outside. You’re gonna find a little bit of dirt out there and you’re gonna bury them.” He pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes, smoothed his hair down
and took a deep breath. “You’re gonna at least try and clean up the place a little before Frays and the others get back. C’mon, man. You can do this. You got this. It’s no big deal.”

Chapter Four

13 June 2011, 1053 hours Route 31 1/4 mile north/northwest of Holden, Massachusetts

The three of them walked quickly in a
file close to the railroad tracks on their right: as Frays had the map and a compass, she took point while Carl and Rodriguez followed at fifteen meter intervals behind her. The Humvee was about a quarter mile behind them, carefully hidden in a stand of pine trees with one hundred mile an hour tape over its lights and mirrors and tree branches thrown over its windscreen to try and keep anyone from noticing it.

Frays had driven the vehicle down the abandoned railway most of the way to town then pulled off to the side just north of Holden. They could have probably driven along the tracks almost right up to the pharmacy and market, but Frays decided against it: any of the creatures never mind any other survivors would undoubtedly be attracted by the noise of the Humvee’s powerful diesel engine.

Amy paused and looked around, taking in her surroundings for a moment before checking their direction on the map
. It was would have been a pleasant day for a walk in the woods if everything was normal: the sun shining in the clear blue sky through the tree branches over their heads, the air perfumed with the scents of numerous green and growing things due to the recent rainstorms. A gentle breeze stirred the branches and undergrowth every now and again, making Frays signal the group to halt briefly until the noise subsided. Thankfully they had not come across anyone or, more importantly, anything since leaving the cabin.

She spared a glance at the others and nodded, giving her little brother a small tightlipped grin. The boy was doing alright so far. Frays found herself grateful that their father had taken them both hunting with him ever since they were old enough to walk. He had no military training, so she and Frannie had to give him an impromptu class on the way down on formations and stuff but he
knew how to creep through a forest like a mouse with felt tied over its paws.