Survival (8 page)

Instead he rolled across the bed, avoiding her reaching hands, and got to his feet on the other side. He took aim with the rifle.

Isabelle stopped, as if sensing her predicament. He studied her face, searching for any semblance of the little girl she once was. She looked left and right, black eyes swiveling as they scanned the dolls and posters that’d once occupied her time. Did she have any recollection of what she’d been? Did she have any idea what had happened to her?

“Isabelle!” Noah called.

He paused, finger on the trigger, holding a bead on her head. He’d killed several of the things before, but he’d never faced one so young. The girl finished surveying the room and eyed him from the other side of the bed.

“Isabelle!” he repeated. “Can you hear me?”

Her face relaxed for a moment. He watched as she lowered her arms and sniffed the air. Could she understand what he was saying? Were his words getting through? The little girl stopped snarling. Her dark eyes locked on his face.

“I can help you,” he tried. “If you’ll listen to me. We have a safe place across—”

The infected girl leapt from the bed, letting out a shriek that filled the room. Her mouth hung open in rage; her hands clawed the air.

Noah fired.

The shot connected with her head. Isabelle fell to the bed like an empty sack, a lifeless body comprised of clothes and hair. Her hands went still.

Tears streaked Noah’s face, blurring his view of the room and the body. He circled around the bed, still pointing the rifle, but the little girl was dead. There was nothing he could’ve done.

There never had been.

He remained in the room for several seconds, staring at the girl and her belongings. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault. In the end he’d pulled the trigger, but it was the men perpetrating the infection who’d loaded the gun.

Maybe the agents were right. Maybe mankind’s destiny had been decided from the beginning. Maybe they were all meant to die.

Noah wiped his face on his sleeve. Even if he somehow survived this nightmare, there’d be no taking back what he’d done, and no forgetting it.

Keeping one hand on the gun, he knelt down and picked up the clothes that had spilled to the floor, then draped them over the little girl’s face.

When he returned to the road, the sun was shining. He held his hand over his eyes to avoid the glare and inspected the ruined street. Because of the gunshot, he’d expected a horde to approach at any minute, putting off his plans to leave.

Instead, the street was calm and silent.

He patted his pockets, worried he’d dropped the car key in the scuffle, but he found it in his shorts.

He shifted his gaze to the window across the street, looking for Caddy, but she was gone. Had she heard the gunshot? He couldn’t imagine she hadn’t.

As if in response, footsteps echoed in front of him and Caddy ran down the walkway.

In her hands was a knife.

“Are you OK?” she called.

Noah glanced back at the house he’d just come from. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. Isabelle had been Caddy’s neighbor. Even though his life had been at stake, even though he’d only been protecting himself, he still felt a wave of guilt. If only he could’ve done something differently…

“What happened? I heard a gunshot.”

Caddy looked him up and down, checking for wounds.

“One of them got inside the house,” he said finally. “But I took care of it.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m OK.”

“Did you find the keys?”

Noah jangled the keychain in the air. The sight of it seemed to brighten Caddy’s face.

“Is your mother all right?” he asked.

“She’s fine. She heard the gunshot, but I was able to calm her down.”

“That’s a relief.”

Noah did a quick survey of the area, still wary of the noise. He could only hope there were no creatures close by, and if there were, that they were otherwise engaged. Hopefully, the fact that he’d fired inside had muffled the noise.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make a commotion. You should get back inside,” he said to Caddy. “It’s not safe out here. I’m going to wait a few minutes, make sure no more of them show up, and then I’m going to head out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. I’ll make it quick. If I don’t find anything, I’ll come back.”

“OK. I’ll head back inside and keep watch.”

In spite of her statement, she lingered. She gave him a long look, as if she were afraid she might not see him again.

“Be careful, Noah,” she warned.

“I will.”

Without another word, she padded up the driveway and disappeared around the back of the house.

Noah retreated back to the McDonalds’ garage, stuffing the encounter with the little girl back in his memory banks. His mind was cluttered as it was; there was no time to deal with it now.

He had a mission to undertake.

If he didn’t find provisions for himself and his companions, the three of them would starve. He forced the image of the little girl to dissolve as he walked back across the street and to the garage. When he reached the car, he retrieved the key from his pocket and used it on the driver’s side door.

The interior lights popped on at the helm. Noah opened the door, taking in the smell of fresh leather. In a world where everything was falling apart, the car was a refreshing change. Noah got inside and shut the door.

He placed the rifle on the seat next to him and started the engine. The car purred around him. The hybrid vehicle was nearly silent; it would provide good cover in the deserted streets. He’d never driven one before. In comparison to this, all his rides had been gas-guzzling antiques.

This is as good as it gets
, he thought.

He forced a smile and put the car into reverse, then rolled out into the road. The sun shone at his back; warm rays bounced off the console. As he shifted the car into drive, he gave one last glance at Caddy’s house. Although he couldn’t be sure, he thought he noticed a dark shadow waving at him in the upstairs window.

N
oah placed the directions on his lap. According to Caddy, his truck was only a few miles up the road; it shouldn’t take him long to get to it. He just hoped he wouldn’t encounter anyone else on the way. His only thought was to get safely to his destination and back.

Outside Caddy’s neighborhood, the area gave way to trees and forest. Noah flicked his attention from the road to the rearview mirror, expecting someone to fall in behind him and give chase. It’d been over a day since he’d been run off the road, and driving the streets still gave him a sense of unease.

As he’d learned thus far, danger was inescapable; the only thing prolonging his life was luck and time.

In any case, being in the vehicle was better than being on foot, and he was grateful for the cover. The windows and doors provided a layer of protection he hadn’t had while in the woods.

The roads were straight, with an occasional curve. Every time Noah took a turn he cringed, expecting to find some new source of danger around the corner. Other than a few abandoned vehicles, however, the road stayed empty.

Noah would’ve liked to wait longer to return. But the longer he waited, the less chance there’d be something in the truck. With looters running rampant, it wouldn’t take long for the vehicle to be picked over, if there was anything left to pick through at all.

He maintained a speed of forty-five, doing his best to avoid the wreckage and debris. A popped tire could get him killed. Changing it would mean he’d have to get out of the vehicle, and getting out would mean he’d be exposed to danger.

He waited for a straightaway before glancing down at the directions.

According to the loopy scrawl of Caddy’s handwriting, the next turn should be coming up. He’d take Whited Street. After that he’d travel only a few minutes before reaching the abandoned pickup.

He’d just glanced up when a figure stepped onto the road in front of him.

Noah cried out in surprise and stomped the brakes. The tires screeched as he tried to avoid the oncoming pedestrian; he tugged at the wheel, doing his best to swerve. The two were on a collision course.

There was no time to change direction, no time to hit the horn.

The car collided with the pedestrian, flinging the figure over the hood and onto the pavement. Noah came to a stop in time to see the body rolling in the road behind him. Heart pounding, he threw the vehicle into park and exited.

What had he done? Had he killed someone?

It took him a second to determine the figure was still moving. The person groaned from the pavement, writhing back and forth in agony. He jogged over to the person’s side, bile creeping up his windpipe. The thought of injuring someone else was enough to make him sick.

He’d already been responsible for enough bloodshed.

It wasn’t until he reached the person’s side that he noticed something was off. The figure was moving erratically, and the groans weren’t cries of pain, but cries of hunger. Noah crouched on the asphalt five feet away.

“Hello?” he tried.

The figure swiveled, revealing grayed skin and an opened mouth.

The creature had once been a man with short gray hair and a moustache. The thing snapped at Noah, trying to reach him, but its legs were incapacitated. Noah stared at it for several seconds, filled with relief.

There was a wallet lying on the road next to it.

Noah reached over and snatched the wallet from the pavement. He flipped it open, reading the name on the license inside.

“Benjamin McDonald,” he muttered.

The address was nearly identical to Caddy’s. He glanced at the hybrid, then back at the thing on the ground. The creature had pulled itself onto its elbows and was sliding across the pavement, scraping open fresh layers of skin to get to him. Noah retreated several steps.

In his mission to get to the truck, he’d accidentally found Isabelle’s father.

Had they been together at one time? Had they separated? He doubted the creature was cognizant, but either way, seeing it crippled struck a chord in him.

Nobody deserved this. Neither the man nor his family.

Noah reached into his belt and removed a kitchen knife he’d brought from Caddy’s. The creature continued to crawl toward him, eyes glazed.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He raised the knife over his head and rammed it into the creature’s skull.

The roads were starting to look familiar. According to Caddy, Noah’s truck was only a few miles west of her house. He was getting close.

All around him were tall oaks and pines, their limbs reaching into the heavens. There were no houses in sight. Unlike the streets he’d just been on, this one was clean and undisturbed. Not a car in sight. He remembered the scenery from a day earlier. At the time, he’d been grateful for a reprieve from the destruction.

Now he knew better.

His mind flashed back to the moment he’d noticed the black truck looming behind him. He’d known the vehicle wasn’t a good sign. He just hadn’t known how bad a sign it was.

The men inside had ridden up alongside him, heads hanging out the windows. He’d tried to accelerate, but his pickup had been old; theirs had been faster. Before he knew it, they’d struck him like a battering ram. Noah had instinctively turned to the right, edging into the breakdown lane, driving dangerously close to the forest.

The men had persisted, screaming at him, shouting things he couldn’t hear. Between the adrenaline and the focus needed to stay on the road, he’d barely had time to look at them, let alone hatch a plan. Instead, he had clung to the steering wheel and done his best not to lose control.

It wasn’t until the F150 raced in front of him and applied the brakes that he’d lost all hope.

Despite his best efforts, Noah had skidded off the pavement and into the trees. He’d been reaching for his gun when the driver’s side window had shattered. Hands had pulled him from the vehicle; fists had pummeled his face.

The pain had been immediate and intense. Before he knew it, Noah had been on the ground, wincing as boots kicked his ribcage. The men had continued to shout. This time he’d caught bits and pieces of the conversation.