The Dark Trinity (Book 1): Shuffle (25 page)

The pair could feel countless bullets pelt their flesh as
they made their way behind the embattled humans. Luckily, the arrival of
Sunshine’s attack drew the attention of the troops closest to them, lowering
the chance of receiving a well-placed headshot. Nathan risked a glance at the
slaughter unfolding before them. The Army was vastly outnumbered. To their
credit though, they were putting up a hell of a fight. Dozens upon dozens of
dead-heads piled up as mounted .50 caliber guns sprayed lead into the maelstrom
of zombies that kept pouring into the fray.

The plan was working. Although this fight wouldn’t last more than
a few minutes, the soldiers were a venerable buffet of living deliciousness
that the Horde just couldn’t resist. As more and more of the battalion fell,
more and more zombies hungrily stopped to gorge on the fresh kills. Blood-lust
overcame any sense of purpose that they might have had; the thoughts of their
pursuit a distant memory. Flesh, blood, feed. Those were the priority now.

“We need to get the fuck outta here, bro!” Ronnie yelled over
the bullet storm, barely audible over the battle which raged around them.

Nathan nodded and pointed to a small patch of woods across
the street to the left, diagonal to their position. Ronnie acknowledged and the
two friends continued to duck, dodge, and parry the attacks hurled at them by
both human and zombie enemies. They were close to the outer edge of the battle
now, the relative safety of the trees a mere forty yards away.

As they scurried past an armored transport vehicle, a large,
muscular human rounded the corner and slammed right into Ronnie. The enlisted
man stared in bewilderment at the zombie before him, who was staring back with
equal confusion. The solder began to raise his rifle; Ronnie sprang from the
ground and somersaulted over the lumberjack of a man. When he landed, Ronnie
was holding the soldier’s head in his hands like a basketball.

He ran on, chasing after Nathan, who was still bolting
towards the woods. Within seconds the dead duo were weaving through the dense
thicket of trees. They paused, looking back at the continuing melee between
human and undead.

Amazingly enough, nobody noticed them. The dead-heads were
way too deep in their blood-lust to pay much attention to anything other than
the bountiful feast before them. As for the soldiers, well, they would be
ecstatic to have two less things standing there trying to kill them. For the
moment, they were safe.

“There aren’t enough trees here to keep us hidden for more
than a couple of minutes. We need to keep moving,” Nathan observed. “We should
continue north-west and follow the river. These woods should end by some
buildings that we could use for cover.”

“Cool, man. Let’s boogie,” Ronnie replied.

They moved through the remaining trees and came across the
first in a long string of abandoned buildings that lined Route 51, which
followed the Ohio River northwest. Breaking through a boarded up window, the
friends climbed inside the decrepit structure. The building was empty, save for
random bits of garbage left behind by various squatters and homeless who had
called the place home.

“Shit, I gotta stop for a bit,” Nathan said, leaning against
a door frame.

“You tired?” Ronnie asked. “I didn’t think we got tired,
being dead and all.”

“No, I’m not tired, but I don’t feel right. Something’s
wrong. I can’t really explain what though.”

Ronnie gave him a quizzical look and then shrugged. “Whatever
you need man.”

“Thanks.”

He rubbed his temples with the large bony knuckles of his
claws; his head was throbbing from Sunshine’s earlier intrusion into his
thoughts. He still couldn’t make sense of it all and he didn’t understand how
she could get into his head like that.

A loud crack echoed throughout the room, followed by some
kind of squishy sound. Nathan lowered his hands and looked up to find Ronnie
holding a severed head in his arm like a popcorn bowl. The top of the skull had
been ripped clean off, exposing the blood-coated gray matter inside. Ronnie was
casually scooping up a hand full of brain and shoveling it into his mouth.

“Dude, really?” Nathan asked.

“Hey bro, I’m a fucking zombie and I would feel like an
asshole if I didn’t at least see what the big deal about brains was all about,”
Ronnie said in his own defense.

“Honestly, I can’t argue with that logic,” Nathan said with a
chuckle. “So what’s it taste like?”

Ronnie scooped another dollop out of the skull-bowl with one
of his clawed fingers and licked it off. “Hmmm. Ya know, it kinda tastes like
cold Dinty Moore Beef Stew.”

“Well, I guess there’s worse things it could taste like.” he
jibed. “Don’t forget buddy, you’re not going to want to eat a lot of that.
Wouldn’t want you to go feral on me.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, looking a little disappointed.
“Too bad, it’s pretty damn good. I can understand why zombies always ask for it
in the movies.” With a sad look on his face, Ronnie tossed the head out the
same window they had broken into not two minutes prior.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes while they figured
out their next move. The sound of death floated in the air from the continuing
battle between living and dead. From the sound if things, it seemed as though
the humans were losing quite horribly. It wouldn’t be long before the dead ran
out of fresh prey and resumed their pursuit.

Nathan looked at his friend, who sat there in a stupor,
staring into nothingness. No doubt that feeding on human flesh had begun to
affect Ronnie’s cognitive ability. Although he hadn’t eaten a lot of it, what
little he had was beginning to wear away at his humanity. Nathan regarded this
for a moment and decided that the best way to help his best friend was to keep him
engaged, keep him thinking.

“Hey man, whatcha think?”

The glassy look in Ronnie’s eyes dissipated as Nathan’s
question jarred him back to reality. “Huh? Oh, um...about what?”

“What do you think we should do now?” he asked.

“Oh. Well, I’m guessing those creepers are just about done
grubbing on those soldier boys, so we should boogie on outta here.”

“I think that’s a great plan,” Nathan replied, a smile on his
face. “We should continue along the river a bit further before crossing to the
northern shore.”

“Aces, bro,” Ronnie said, giving the thumbs up.

They vacated the building and continued down Route 51,
running as fast as their dead legs would take them. They both knew that the
more distance they put between themselves and Satan's daughter and her minions,
the better. After traveling about five hundred yards, they crossed the road and
headed towards the river bank, or at least as close to the water as possible.
The further north they went, the more sparse the development along the river.
Buildings gave way to parking lots, which then gave way to dense foliage and
vegetation. With a little luck, it would provide the cover that they needed to
lose Sunshine and the Horde.

CHAPTER 32 
  THE
CROSSING

Boomer forged through the cold and snow, keeping a vigilant
eye on the moon above. The strange voice inside his head had told him to cross
the river when the moon was highest and that time was fast approaching. As he
ran underneath the West End Bridge, he could hear screams from both humans and
those awful creatures. The smell of blood and death hung in the air like a wet
blanket.

Boomer sped past the bridge and continued on, determined to
reach Master as the voice had promised he would. The thought of seeing his
human drove him to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder, the hunger in his
belly, and the cold which permeated through every muscle.

His thoughts turned to Lady. He was ashamed that he failed to
protect her; to protect their home. It was his job to guard the house and
everything, and everyone, inside it. Boomer hoped that Master would not be
angry with him, as he couldn’t bear the thought of letting Master down.

Lady had left and never came back. She could have went to the
other lady’s house down the street, but he would never know. Those strange
creatures were everywhere; trying to get him. All he could do was escape and
try to find Master. He would know what to do.

The dog's excitement grew as he glanced at the moon again. It
was at its highest point in the sky; time to swim. He slowed to a trot and then
a walk. Surveying the river bank, he found a spot that gave him the best access
to the water.

He weaved his way down to his chosen entry point. Upon reaching
the shoreline, he paused; exhausted from his journey, Boomer knew that crossing
the frigid waters would be difficult. After only a moment’s hesitation, he
walked into the icy Ohio River and began to swim. His eyes fixated on the
distant shore ahead.

The freezing water made it hard to breath and caused his
muscles to cramp, but Boomer swam on, fighting both the current and the cold.
It was slow-going; he only made it halfway across after ten minutes of
swimming. He was exhausted and started to doubt his ability to navigate the
river.

[“Do not give up hope little one. You are almost at the
end of your journey. Your master is near! You must not give up now! He needs
you more than you realize.”]

The soothing voice filled his head as before. It calmed and motivated
him all at the same time. He struggled forward against the current, each kick
of his legs burned. His head dipped below the water, the river spilled into his
lungs as he struggled to breathe. Managing to get his head above water, he
coughed hard to clear his lungs as he fought to stay afloat.

A loud splash sounded in behind him, although he couldn’t
tell for sure, as he himself splashed trying to keep his head above water.
Beneath the choppy river surface, a large dark shape sped from shore and torpedoed
straight for the dog. A moment later, the large form was under the struggling
dog.

Boomer was losing the battle against the cold and his
fatigue. Again he went underwater, the river flowing into his little lungs.
Something beneath his feet lifted him up above the water surface. Fear bubbled
up as the unknown creature below him continued to speed towards the opposite
shore. His body emerged above the waterline; only his paws remained submerged.

He stood on the unknown form as it cut through the water effortlessly.
He barked at the mysterious thing below, which felt strange on his paws. The
rough surface shimmered and glinted in the moonlight. He stopped barking when
the soothing voice returned.

[“Calm yourself. I am here with you and I will not let you
drown. I will carry you to the shore and then you can continue your journey to
your master. You are so close, you must not give up now.”]

Boomer barked an affirmative yelp in understanding and leaned
forward into the breeze. The shore line was fast approaching. Seconds later,
the form below him dove deeper, disappearing into the depths, which allowed the
dog to swim on his own again. Kicking his legs and pulling from the last
vestiges of energy that he had, he swam the remaining twenty feet to the river bank.
The hulking creature that had just saved him from the icy depths of the Ohio
River was already a distant memory. All he could think about was Master.

Shaking vigorously, he dried off as much as possible. Once he
expelled the majority of the water, he warmed up a little and was able to
continue on. With a quick sniff of the air and a determined bark, Boomer ran.
He could sense that Master was near and that excited him; his tail wagged as he
resumed his search. He dashed away from the river, crossing the four-lane road
that ran parallel to the water, and disappeared into the woods.