Survival Paranoia (Survival series) (6 page)

She looked around in amazement.
This wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Lorna had spotted the chicken fencing, but she’d assumed that was the only precaution they’d taken. She was glad to be wrong for a change, she mused as she noticed all the doors were open between rooms. There was a clear path from one room to the next, almost like a hallway, and the set-up impressed her. Supplies were all against the walls, stacked to either side of the doors. It gave her pause, but she didn’t worry about it much.

“Thank you,” Lorna said gratefully, wincing as the first zombie banged on the door they’d come through. Apparently the female zombie had friends, as more banging came from the surrounding area.
She felt guilty, drawing a group of those things towards this group. That was Jeff’s doing, not hers, she reminded herself. There was nothing she could do to take back his flash of temper. They were lucky that the group didn't toss them out on their asses and leave them to the horde. She wouldn't even blame them. Besides, if the zombies fed, they would likely go away. “I cannot thank you enough,” she added, picturing all the things that could have gone wrong. 

The boy was good-looking, she thought as a twinge of guilt
hit her. He was younger than she was, but not by much. He had cornflower blue eyes and a shock of blond curls atop his handsome face. He stuck his hand out for her to shake before offering it reluctantly to Jeff as well. He didn’t see the scowl on Jeff’s face when he turned away, but Lorna made note of it before giving the boy her attention. “I’m Chet,” he said, and then gestured to the group behind him. “This is my dad, Will, and my little brother, Marty.” A scraggly-faced man nodded in their direction, and a young boy who was nearly a miniature of Chet giggled and waved. He couldn’t have been more than four, and he reminded Lorna of pictures she’d seen of Cupid in child form. She smiled back and waved as well.

The introductions continued.
There was a husband and wife team, Mr. and Mrs. Kolchak. They were older and very friendly. Mrs. Kolchak even hugged Lorna briefly, causing tears to prick behind her tired eyes. She’d hoped for nice people, but she never expected to be welcomed into the fold so quickly.

The
re was another husband and wife, the Hubbard’s, with a creepy little boy who reminded her of some child from a horror movie she’d seen once. It featured an evil little child who’d ridden a tricycle, if she remembered correctly. She shook it off…it wasn’t important. She vowed to keep her distance. The three of them made her distinctly uncomfortable.

The rest of the people were singles, just random stragglers who were brought
into the fold, Chet told them. Through it all, Jeff stood silent and resentful, like a hateful breeze at Lorna’s back. He’d been even more withdrawn since Chet introduced himself to
her
first, and it was like he was a dog marking his territory. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d peed on her leg. The visual almost made her grin, and she
knew
she was exhausted.

“You must be exhausted,” Will remarked
as if he’d read her mind, his voice booming in the sudden quiet. “We have hot water if you two would like to get cleaned up before catching some winks. We’ll make a quick run out to your SUV to get your supplies… or we can see if we have anything that would fit, if you prefer.”

Jeff opened his mouth, but Lorna cut him off, sure he would say something to offend them and have them driven away. “A shower would be wonderful,” she said gratefully, “but you don’t need to get our things. There are so many of them out there,” she said,
tipping her head in the direction of the door where several of the undead were still banging insistently. “Anything you can spare would be welcome.” She glared at Jeff and he sighed but nodded his assent.

Mrs. Kolchak put a motherly arm over Lorna’s shoulders. “Come
, dear,” the woman said kindly. She smelled like lavender, and the scent was heavenly after the odors they’d come across since the apocalypse began. “How about a bath? Soaking might make you feel better.”

Lorna shivered. “I think I’d prefer to shower first,” she said honestly. “I don’t want to
lie about in dirty water,” she explained apologetically, and the elderly woman nodded that she understood. So Lorna went off without a backward glance at Jeff. She didn’t care where he went or what he did. She was safe now, and
that’s
all she truly cared about.

The woman fussed over her, clucking her tongue as she turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature, setting out washcloths, towels and bath supplies. She chattered on, oblivious to the quiet from her young companion. She told stories about connecting with Will and his sons, and picking up the others, and Lorna smiled, nodding in what she hoped were the right pla
ces. She would apologize later, she thought. She was too tired to take much of it in.

Against her halfhearted protests, she found herself being stripped out of her clothes by the older woman. It wasn’t until she saw the shrewd look in Mrs. Kolchak’s eyes that she realized she was being checked for wounds, and her esteem rose a notch higher. They had it together here, even if it wasn’t obvious on the surface.
The woman hung a white terrycloth robe, the staple of most hotels, on the back of the bathroom door and left her to shower in peace.

Lorna scrubbed her hair three times before she was satisfied that it was truly clean. Then she used the whole complimentary bottle of conditioner and let that soak into her locks while she gave her body the same treatment. Her skin was bright pink when she was finished, and she rinsed her hair, finally relaxing. When she was completely clean
, she simply sat on the floor of the tub and let the shower rain down on her, soothing sore muscles and relaxing her. Guilt made her shut off the water and stand up once more. She’d been in there entirely too long, so she hurriedly dried her body, wrapping a towel around her head like a turban before slipping into the robe. She’d finger-comb the knots from her hair later. Right now all she cared about was getting some sleep.

Jeff was nowhere to be found when she came out, and she was relieved. She just didn’t want the stress of dealing with him. Instead, she was shown to an empty bed and told her items would be brought inside when the pack outside thinned their ranks and wandered off for easier prey. With a final relieved sigh, she pulled the covers over her body and fell to sleep almost instantly, still wearing the robe and hair towel.

Lorna glanced in the rearview mirror, taking in the chaos she’d left in her wake. She’d wanted to meet other survivors, and she had wanted Jeff gone. Well, she’d gotten exactly what she fucking wished for… She turned the key in the ignition, grateful she’d taken the keys from Jeff before he made that last fatal run a few hours ago. She’d had to leave some of her supplies behind, but that didn’t worry her. One person traveled easier than two. She let herself think back as she drove…

They’d stayed only three days at the motel. It was the end of April, and the temperatures were actually pretty comfortable. Long sleeves and jeans were sufficient for warding off any chill, and the radiators in the motel rooms were unnecessary at this point. They had full bellies and hot water. They had plenty of water to drink, and Chet had actually located a box of flavored mix in the office of the motel. Th
e group got along well together… with the exception of the Hubbard’s. The husband and wife kept to themselves, heads together as they whispered and plotted. The creepy child, Luke, just ran around smiling all the time, and the smile made Lorna’s blood run cold.

Jeff had been sullen and withdrawn since they’d woken from their rest. The two of them had managed to sleep a full twelve hours, and Lorna was stiff from the unusual position. It had been
so long since she’d had a comfortable bed that it was almost unbearable to be in one now. She told herself not to get used to it, though. Who knew how long they’d actually stay? Mrs. Kolchak had greeted her with a smile and a bowl of oatmeal. There were lumps inside, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was fruit, even if the peaches
were
from a can. She ate hers gratefully, but Jeff was cold and distant, only grunting his thanks and practically stabbing the warmed oats with his spoon. He only looked up to glare accusingly at Lorna, and she found herself giving him heated looks in return.

How dare he make her feel guilty for finding other people to toss their luck in with? How dare he get angry with her just because there was another boy near their age with the group? The more she thought about it, the more she seethed.
He was regressing more and more each day, becoming nothing but a spoiled child who found out he was expected to share his toys.

Several of the group wanted to go raid the nearby cars again. It was argued that they had already done so, but apparently the search wasn’t a thorough one, and they were running low on supplies. She started to open her mouth and tell the group what they carried in their bug-out bags, but Jeff gave her a warning look and she stayed quiet. Th
ere really wasn’t a lot of food. There might be enough one or two meals if they shared with everyone. What if they needed to leave quickly? It wouldn’t do for them to share all their meals now and risk starving when they left this place. She knew that’s what he meant, but of course
he
didn’t know she intended to leave him behind. So instead of offering to share, she volunteered to help search the vehicles in nearby parking lots.

“Absolutely not,” Jeff thundered, scaring everyone. Even that creepy little shit, Luke, quit smiling and stared wide-eyed. Jeff’s hands were clenched into tight fits and mottled with his anger. “You’re
not
going,” he said, giving everyone dirty looks as though daring them to argue. “I’ll go search and
you
stay here.” He turned on his heel, snatched Lorna’s crowbar and stormed off, slamming the motel door behind him.

She studied the rooms, wandering from one to the other as several of the people went outside to gather supplies. Chet had gone after Jeff with an apologetic shrug for Lorna’s benefit, and Mr. Kolchak kept watch from the door, the rifle held securely in his wizened hands.
She was left to her own devices, and used the time to take in her surroundings, searching for a viable escape route in case it became necessary.

She’d seen the motel from the outside, and knew there were approximat
ely twenty rooms lined up. Each room had two or three doors. There was, of course one outside door, blocked off with the solid wooden dressers each room contained, as well as one or two doors leading the connecting rooms, depending on if it was an end room or a middle one. Lorna itched with concern. It struck her as a bad idea to have such open access. She wanted to tell the others that they needed something more secure than just a blocked door, some chicken wire and only two open doors to the outside, but before she could she heard the high-pitched keening.

She ran back from the far room she’d wandered into, rejoinin
g the now anxious group. Will was rocking, tears running down his craggy face as two of the other men carried Chet between them, running for the motel. Jeff was limping after them, swinging his crowbar at the horde that seemed to come from nowhere… that
actually
came from everywhere. One minute he was baring his teeth in a grimace, sea green eyes full of fire and fury. With the next blink, a woman in the tattered remains of a teal blue jogging suit lunged forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder blade. Jeff let out a ragged scream as she tugged, eyes dull, ripping the flesh from his back in a long, bloody strip.

Lorna turned away. She couldn’t save him, she knew that, and trouble was a lot closer. Jeff had taken her fucking crowbar, and she needed a weapon desperately. She grabbed a nightstand, the lightest thing in the room, and smashed it again and again on the bathroom floor where
the hard surface would break the wood quickly. It was one of those spindly deals, not terribly sturdy, but it had one important thing in its favor… the legs were long, and would make a pretty good melee weapon. With the fourth downswing she finally had a leg free. She started to break it again to get more weapons, but it was useless. The screaming had begun in the other room.

She ran quickly toward the shrieks of pain and fear, snatching her two bags off the floor where they’d been left for her that morning. She stopped cold in the doorway. Will was clutching his son, fighting those who tried to yank Chet away. His son’s face was buried in his throat, but still he held tight. Mason had his face burrowed into Mrs. Kolchak’s skirt, a twisted parody of his big brother’s movements. His screams were the ones she’d initially heard, but now he’d gone mute, clinging tiredly to the woman’s waist as he hid his face from the sight of his brother
feasting on his father.

The door was wide open and the undead swarmed inside. There was no escape. Mr. Hubbard slammed into her, a large bear of a man with a shock of brown hair and jiggling jowls. Her weapon went flying, leaving her defenseless. She kicked him back, and he was slow and uncoordinated. Her heart was in her throat, b
ut she spotted her saving grace…the bed. She would never get to the spare weapons inside her bag in time, so she flipped the heavy mattress, adrenaline giving her the strength she needed. It hit him and he lay pinned beneath, momentarily unsure how to get out from underneath his soft yet solid prison. Lorna punched her fist down into the box spring and started tugging at the insides. Her hands tore on the ragged metal but she ignored it, pulling with all her might. With a loud screeching sound, the spring came off in her hand, just in time as Mrs. Hubbard charged through the doorway.

The woman was missing one of her obscenely large breasts, the other hanging like a cow’s udder from her ripped shirt. She was also missing an eye, leaving the other to track her with its dull gaze. She threw her head back and released one howling moan before Lorna plunged the spring, hastily straightened, into the remaining eye. There was a disturbing squishing sound as the orb was punctured, and the woman collapsed where she stood. The sudden weight yanked the spring from Lorna’s hand and flayed open her palm. She hissed with pain, struggling to pull the spring free, but her hands we
re slick with her own blood now. The spring was still hung up somewhere inside Mrs. Hubbard’s head.

Giving up, Lorna scooped up the broken nightstand leg from the floor beside the destroyed bed and walked over to where Mr. Hubbard was still struggling to get
out from under the mattress. He’d managed to free one arm and his head, but the rest of him was still pinned. She knelt on the mattress and raised the leg like a club, bashing it down with all her strength. The first strike broke his nose, and the second shattered his teeth, sending vibrations of pain up her arm from the force of the blow. A third and fourth rendered his face unrecognizable, yet still he struggled. She looked back at the remains of his wife and knew what she had to do. She turned the leg in her hand, turning it from a blunt object into a stake and pierced his left eye with all the force she could muster. One hand clutched at her arm as his body seized in the throes of death, and she yanked the leg free before plunging it down into the other eye. He was finally still.

She peered through the doorway, surprised to find that the zombies in the next room were ignoring her. They had a feast set before them, and they knelt at the bodies like animals at a watering hole, eating heartily. The Hubbard’s creepy son, Luke, was nothing but g
nawed bones and tattered clothing remnants. He wouldn’t be getting up to join the undead army.

She quietly shut the door to the connecting room, walked to the door at the far end of the motel, and out into the sunlight. Blinking at the sudden transition from gloomy space to bright sun, she jogged to the SUV, threw her bags in, and left the carnage behind her.