Tainted Reality (The Rememdium Series Book 2) (16 page)

“Since we’re droppin’ bombs of good news here, let me add another. That missile did some major damage in terms of our security. There’s a gapin’ hole with no way to seal it in lawn and garden. Even though Shaun swooped in and took out all those grunts, and quite a few of the dead, we didn’t get them all. Once they realize there’s a way in here, this place will turn into one giant smorgasbord, with us as the main course.”

Reed bristled. “Are you suggestin’ we just leave the injured behind and run away like cowards?”

“Of course not. What kind of monster do you think I am, Newberry? No, I’m suggestin’ we extract ourselves from this breached haven and get
all
of us to the hospital. If both that grunt who tried to help us outside and Regina aren’t goin' to make it, we can at least sleep tonight knowin’ we tried until the very end,” Walt said. “Plus, we’ll get that pregnant lady to the right place to deliver a baby.”

“Jesse’s going to…” Reed couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Look, here’s the deal. My wife, Turner, Lamar, Kyle, and others are loadin’ up supplies as we speak. They know, because we already discussed this after viewin’ the remains of the garden center, the next step is to head to the hospital. Half of those we brought here earlier already left, and I hate to say it, but maybe them warm bodies leavin’ will distract the dead still lurkin’ outside long enough for us to get out safely.”

“Then it’s settled. Let’s stop wastin' time and get them…”

Gunfire erupted from the end of the aisle, drowning out the rest of Reed’s response. Spinning around, Reed’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the dead descend on a group of people across the store.

And several close to his sister, with Jesse about six feet away, firing into the throng, missing more than connecting.

Regina screamed, “Jesse! Shaun! Run, now!”

Oh, my God. We’re too late.

Regina knew she only had minutes, if not seconds, left. She could feel her strength diminish with each faint heartbeat. Every breath was torture, sending white-hot pain rippling through her body.

She tried to keep a strong face on for Jesse. Regina figured the words she’d said earlier to Marian hadn’t soaked through the haze of hysteria in Jesse’s mind yet, but one day, they would. Her daughter would smile when remembering the sneaky way Regina conveyed her love through the conversation.

Regina wasn’t afraid of dying like she’d always assumed she would be when the time rolled around. A strange sense of peace and warmth flooded her mind. She wondered if that was due to lack of blood or simply coming to terms it was her time to join her husband on the other side.

“Mom? Mom?”

Licking her dry lips, Regina struggled to open her eyes, which she hadn’t realized were closed. “Just…restin’ my eyes, baby.”

“No, you weren’t. You passed out. Please, Momma, stay awake. We need you. I need you.”

From the corner of her eye, Regina noticed Shaun stood and headed toward the others at the end of the aisle. Marian took a deep breath and shifted her position on the floor. Blinking twice, Regina focused her gaze on Jesse’s worried face. Her baby girl was still dressed in pajamas, yet finally with a coat on. Jesse's hair stuck up every direction, but it didn't matter. She still looked like an angel. “Have I told you how much I admire you?”

A few tears slid down Jesse’s face. “Admire me? What in the world for? I’ve done nothin’ but cause you grief—”

“Wrong. You’re stronger than you know. Tougher than me. You kicked a habit that usually kills most. You beat the devil at his wicked game. That’s strength. That’s heart. That’s what makes you special. Heart.”

Jesse dabbed her sleeve on Regina’s mouth, wiping dribbles of blood away. “Stop that, Mom.”

“Stop what?”

“Talkin’ like you’re dyin.’ I won’t listen.”

Regina winced as she took another breath. “I am, and you will. For Turner. For your uncle. The world’s gonna need strong women to help rebuild it. Now’s your time to shine.”

“Horseshit! You’re not dyin’! I won’t…I won’t let you!”

“Everyone has an expiration date, daughter. Everyone. Make the most of the allotted time. Be honest. Stay true to what I’ve taught you. Do what your heart knows is right. Take care of Turner. He loves you more than you know. Reminds me a lot of your dad.”

Jesse sobbed, “You taught me to never give up, and that’s exactly what I’m doin’! Listen to your own preachin’s, Mom. You’re givin’ up on yourself.”

Regina coughed and the pain tried to pull her into black oblivion. She hung on to the light surrounding her daughter’s face with all she had. “Comin’ to terms with the inevitable ain’t givin’ up, darlin’. It’s called acceptance.”

“Please, don’t leave us,” Marian begged.

Regina turned her head, noticing the woman had scooted next to her. She forced a smile to appear. “You take care of your little one, Marian.”

“I won’t listen to any more of your…oh…my…God!”

Jesse’s defiant words stuck in her throat. Regina saw her eyes go wide, fear causing her face to turn stark white. Before Regina had a chance to ask what was wrong, Jesse let go and scrambled across the floor, retrieving Shaun’s rifle.

Regina knew then what her only child was aiming at—and what sent her into a frenzy.

Summoning every last ounce of strength, Regina reached out and felt around for her weapon, praying Reed and Jesse brought it back with them. She felt the cold steel and grabbed it, trying to remember how many rounds she’d shot while in the parking lot.

It doesn’t matter. You’ll only need one.

Twisting her head, Regina’s heart fluttered.

Four monsters were closing in.

Fast.

Turning back around, time slowed, and Regina knew what she’d have to do to ensure her daughter and brother survived.

There was no way Reed, Walt, or Jane would make it to her and Jesse in time to rescue them both. She also knew her brother would try, which would just end up being the last thing he did before being ripped to shreds.

Regina Newberry Parker would not let that happen. Not while she was still able to do something to change it.

Serve.

Shaun was about seven feet from Jesse, who continued to fire at the dead.

Damn. She didn’t inherit my marksmanship skills
.

“Oh, Jesus! I don’t want them to eat my baby! I can’t stand up—another contraction’s coming!” Marian screamed.

Marian and Regina exchanged glances. In that split second, both women knew exactly what the other was thinking. Marian nodded, tears running down her face. She moved closer and rested her head underneath Regina’s.

“Jesse! Shaun! Run, now!” Regina screamed. The effort made stars dance behind her eyes.

Reed and Walt were running full blast. They reached Jesse and Shaun close to the same time. Reed threw his arms around Jesse, dragging her, kicking and screaming, backward. Walt did the same with Shaun.

The sounds of Jesse and Shaun yelling to be released, the sporadic gunfire from other areas of the store, the screams of terrified people, all turned into background noise. The only sound Regina honed in on was the mewling, grumbling, growling of the dead closing in behind her.

I’m not going to miss that sound. Forgive me, Lord. Watch over them and please, let all of them make it out of here. Alive.

Marian groaned as another contraction hit.

“Hurry,” Marian begged.

With tears streaming down her face, Regina clutched her left hand with Marian’s. She stuck the barrel of the gun under the woman’s chin.

Protect.

Marian squeezed Regina’s hand.

Regina felt both their bodies shake as the first cold, dead hands latched onto their bodies, pulling chunks of flesh away.

With her last breath, unable to get her voice above a whisper, Regina said, “Run,” then leaned forward, her chin resting on top of Marian’s head, and pulled the trigger.

DARKNESS FALLS - Saturday - December 20
^th
– 5:15 p.m.

Everett stared at his notes, a twisted grin on his face. His handwriting was atrocious, and the source of many jokes from family and friends. Carol used to tease him, saying he was in the right profession.

His fingers ached from clutching the pen for so long. He set it aside and rubbed the red, swollen knuckles. Cursing his age under his breath, Everett wished he’d remembered to pack his arthritis medication.

A dull, continuous throbbing in his temples felt like someone had their fingers pressed against his head. He’d stared at the small print of the medical books spread out in front of him for too long. When younger, things such as reading too much or writing pages and pages of notes were simple, easy tasks. Age made them just as difficult as dropping down and banging out one-hundred sit-ups.

Back stiff from sitting in the same spot, Everett stood and stretched. He needed to get his blood pumping. Porterfield and Warton had left to get a specimen hours ago, and Everett needed to be ready to work when they returned.

He left the lab and walked down the quiet hallway. Though he spent ten years of his life inside the place, being at Dr. Thomas’ residence for the better part of a year had spoiled him. Claustrophobia fought to overtake his thoughts, reminding him of the struggle the first two years he’d been underground.

“No, stop. You aren’t down here alone. This place won’t be your tomb. It’s only temporary.”

Everett’s mumbled words bounced off the concrete floors and walls, sending chills up his back at the strange way his voice echoed. He quickened his pace, hoping he’d run into Dirk or one of the other men before his fear of being alone drove him mad.

The door to the room where Susan, Diane, and all the other former addicts lost their lives, was only feet away. Everett’s mouth filled with hot saliva. Being underground, in the bowels of a mountainside, was bad enough. Knowing so many people were murdered at one time, trapped inside a place most didn’t come to willingly, made Everett nauseated.

If he believed in haunted places full of the restless ghosts of those unable to move beyond because of the way they’d died, the windowless room would certainly fit the bill.

He stopped at the door, refusing to go inside. Placing his hand on the cool metal, he said a silent prayer for them. Cyanide poisoning was a horrible way to exit the world. Remembering the conversation with Dirk months ago, after he finally convinced the man to tell him what happened inside the lab, Everett cringed. At the time, he wished the lab would have blown up, for the death experience of those poor souls would have been quicker and less painful.

He tried to imagine Daryl Riverside walking into the room, all smiles and kind words, the mop of hair flopping in his face while he handed out lunch and drinks to the unsuspecting group. Did any of them sense something was wrong? Did they pick up any negative vibes? Did any of them smell the scent of almonds as they brought drinks to noses?

Warm tears ran down Everett’s cheeks as he prayed.

“Doc? Stop it.”

Everett removed his hand from the door and raked it across his face to wipe away the wetness. “The second sign of dementia is random bouts of crying.”

“Bullshit. You’re blaming yourself for something that was never in your control.”

Turning around to face Dirk, Everett replied, “Say what you will, you won’t change my mind. Their blood is on my hands. They died, along with Dr. Flint and Thomas, from a direct result of my actions or rather, inactions. I should have watched Daryl closer, but I was too consumed by my work to pay any attention to my surroundings.”

“Aren’t you tired of singing the same martyr song? I’m certainly sick of hearing it.”

“We are two very different people, Dirk. You’ve experienced all this before. I haven’t, so forgive me for feeling sad.”

Dirk furrowed his brow. “Was that your way of saying I’m a cold bastard, unable to experience grief or sorrow? If so, you’re wrong. Dead, wrong.”

Everett couldn’t face the man any longer, so he turned and walked back toward the main lab. “I…no, that’s not what I meant. See? Can’t even articulate my feelings without screwing up. What I wanted to convey was I’m unaccustomed to being a party to murder.”