The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion (15 page)

“Looks like a kid and a girl behind the truck.”
  Tom said.  
He pulled his eye off the scope, noticing something out of the corner of
his eye. “Movement in
the trees.” Tom said.

“Hannah and Isaac?”

“Nope.
  Further back on the other
side.”

“I see ‘em.
  Demented.”

“Drawn to the gunfire.”

They both laid and watched as a pair of demented raced out
of the woods behind the tan truck.  
Having seen prey, they were moving incredibly fast.
  The younger boy was continually poking his
head around the backside of the truck, trying to keep an eye on the military
vehicles. His concern for being out
flanked meant he was oblivious to the attack that was coming from behind.

Tom touched on his trigger.

“Give the word.” Hank
said.

Crack…crack.

Two rapid shots from the girl dropped both demented.
  Her shots were surprisingly quick and
efficient. Running targets often had a
way of being elusive, especially when they were coming right at a person, but
she maintained her cool and made each shot count.
 

“Never mind.”
  Hank said.

One of the men behind the military trucks used the
distraction to make a break for the trees to the side.
  The boy saw the movement and shifted around,
firing at the dark form as it disappeared into the forest.

“Did he get him?”  
Hank asked.

“Couldn’t tell.”

Another man eased out from around one of the trucks and
began firing a steady volley at the back corner of the truck.
  As soon as the bullets started chipping away
at the metal a second man made a sprint for the trees on the opposite side of the
road.

Tom was thinking this was going really bad for the young
pair when they did something that not only caught him off guard, but surely
caught the others off guard as well. As
soon as the gunman ducked back behind the deuce and half, both the boy and girl
raced around the sides of the truck and sprinted directly at the military
vehicles. Their long strides were eating
up the span quickly, but would it be enough.

One of the men was hunched down reloading.
  The other man peeked around the back of the truck
just in time to see the headlong rush from their prey.
  He turned and shouted to his buddy.

“Let’s help out.” Tom
said.

No sooner had Tom got the words out than Hank’s rifle
thundered
from next to him.
  One of the gunmen was just pulling his rifle
up to fire at the two charging kids when Hank’s shot slammed into the back of
his skull, splattering gore across the camo truck.
  The gunman’s partner was charging his rifle
after slamming a fresh magazine in.

The boy and girl dropped to their knees out of sight when
they heard the shot. Tom pulled his
scope off of them and moved to the tree line on one side.
  He quickly scanned the foliage, looking for
the second man that ran into the forest.

Boom.
  Another shot from Hank hit the remaining man
in the forehead, pounding him into the back of the truck where he slid to the
pavement in a sitting position. His
rifle rested in his lap, making it look like he was napping.

“Check the trees where the first one went.”
  Tom said while still glassing the opposite
trees. He heard the screams well before
seeing any movement.

The man was yelling frantically.
  The shouts were panicked and unintelligible,
but the level of fear was evident. He
suddenly burst out of the tree line at full sprint, yelling and waving a hand
over his head.

Tom scanned back to the vehicles and saw the kid rise to a
standing position at the front of one of the trucks.
  He fired two quick shots.
  The yelling man fell
face first to the ground, sliding in the dirt.

“What was he –“ Tom started to say, but then saw the
massive horde of demented racing through the trees behind the fallen man.
  It was the most he had seen in one place for
quite some time. The chaos in the cities
was the last time he had ran into so many infected packed together.

“See that?” Hank
said.

Tom looked back to the military trucks.
  The girl and boy were creeping between the
two giant vehicles, oblivious to the mass rushing their way.
  They would be overwhelmed in a matter of
seconds. The boy was nearing the rear of
the trucks, checking for remaining attackers.

Looking over at Hank, Tom said, “As much as I want those
supplies, I think we leave them.”

“What about the two minions?”

Tom made a groaning sound.  
“I know it, but I think we have bigger fish to fry.”

As soon as he got the last word out gunfire erupted from below.
  It initiated from the valley that led between
the pump house compound and the vehicles below.  
The infected reacted immediately.  
In mass they turned for the valley, racing parallel to the road.
  One after another fell to the withering
gunfire, but there were far too many to even make a dent in their ranks.

“Hannah and Isaac?”
  Hank asked.

“I guess they solved the dilemma.”
  Tom rose up to his knees while keeping an eye
on the military trucks.
“Our chance.”

“Are you insane?”

The boy and girl were huddled at the back corner of one of
the trucks, peering around the edge at the massive horde that had nearly
consumed them. Both of them began to
slowly slide backwards on their knees.

Tom quickly stood and shouldered his rifle.
  “Now.
  Let’s move.”  
He whisper shouted.

Staying low, both men quickly dodged and hopped their way
down the hillside. The two kids noticed
them reach the flats. The girl pointed
toward them and spoke to the boy. He
raised his rifle, aiming directly at them.  
Both Tom and Hank had their rifles slung over their shoulders.
  They raised their hands, hoping it was obvious
they were no threat. The older girl was
talking rapidly to the boy.

“I think we screwed up.”  
Hank said to Tom.

Tom stole a quick glance toward the infected and was glad to
see they continued their mad dash toward the valley.
  Gunfire continued to draw them.
  The roar of an engine could just be heard
between shots. He glanced back ahead and
was relieved to see the boy lowering his rifle.

Pop…pop…pop…
gunfire
erupted from the trees opposite the horde of infected.

“Ahhh.”
  Hank shouted with pain, dropping to the
ground. The initial attacker had reared his
ugly head.

Tom looked back to see Hank lying just shy of the gravel
that led up to the paved road, his face streaked with pain.
  Tom stopped less than a dozen paces from the
trucks. He was a sitting duck out in the
open and knew it. His mind raced, knowing
he had to go back for Hank, but sure he would be gunned down.

“Covering.”
  The boy yelled from behind.
 

Tom hesitated for a moment and then gunfire erupted.
  Trusting the boy, he rushed forward to
Hank. Red had begun soaking his jeans.
  Placing a hand under Hank’s armpit, Tom
lifted him to his feet and the two of them started for the trucks.
  The boy was down on a knee at the rear of the
truck, firing rhythmically into the trees beyond.
  The girl lay just behind him on the pavement,
shooting under the truck.

Tom checked on the horde.  
Hundreds had peeled off from the mass and were now racing their
way. “We’re gonna
have company.” Tom shouted.

“He’s down.” The girl
shouted. She quickly got back to her
feet and turned toward the front of the trucks.  
“Checking for keys.”

Tom was nearing the boy when he stood up.
  He was shocked to see how young the boy
was. He was bad at ages, but guessed the
kid to only be nine or ten. “Take
him.” Tom said while handing Hank off to
the kid. As soon as Hank was shifted
over, Tom turned for the nearest body at the back of the trucks.
  He quickly started rifling through the man’s
pockets, trying his best to ignore the chunks of gore splattered across his
clothes. He heard the cab doors opening
and closing, but no engine rumble. With
a grimace he reached into the man’s nearest pants pocket.
  His fingers touched on cold metal.

He stole a glance back up and his heart raced when he saw
how close the demented were. Their red
rimmed eyes glowed with rage. His
fingers gripped on a metal ring and relief flooded over him as he slid the set
of keys from the tight pants pocket.
“Keys!” He shouted
while turning for the others.

Rushing between the two giant vehicles, he knew he had a
fifty-fifty chance of picking the correct cab.  
He also knew that he got a fifty-fifty right about ten percent of the
time. The first demented slammed into
the rear of the truck with a
thud
.
  The right hand cab door flew open and the
girl’s head poked out.

“In here.”

The door to the other cab’s passenger side popped open and
the boy climbed out. “No keys in
here. Try that one.”

Tom climbed into the open cab and with trepidation looked
over to Hank. He sat on the other side
of the girl, looking down at his leg.  
Even flushed with pain, he looked over at Tom and gave a thumbs-up.

The boy stood between the two trucks with his rifle pointed
toward their rear. “Movement.”
  He shouted just before his rifle boomed.
  “We gotta roll,
they’re coming.” No sooner had he got
the words out than the sound of bodies running into the rear of the truck
marked their presence. He stood in place
and began firing into the unseen hordes.

Tom said a silent prayer as he jammed the key into the
ignition and gave it a turn. The engine
cranked and rumbled to life.
“Yah!” He
shouted. Looking out the window, he
yelled, “Get in kid.”

“Go, go.” The kid
replied while firing off several more shots.

Tom jammed the truck in gear, slammed down the gas, and
popped the clutch. Unlike a civilian car
or truck, the behemoth rumbled forward rather than shooting forward.
  Tom glanced to the passenger mirror and only
saw angered faces and grasping hands.  
The truck slowly increased speed.  
The boy hopped onto the driver steps and grabbed the mirror to stabilize
himself. He peered in at Tom, gave a nod,
and then looked back toward the rear of the truck.

“Who is this kid?”  
Tom said.

“Eli. I’m Abby.”

“Portland, you were in Portland when it hit?”
  Tom said.

Abby nodded her head.  
It felt like a lifetime ago, but she remembered back to her harrowing
escape from the city and how Eli had swooped in to save her in the conference
center. The details were a blur and she
feared trying to dig them out, knowing most lied buried in her subconscious for
a reason. “Eli saved me.
  We made it out in a boat, been together ever
since.”

Tom thought about mentioning he and Hank had escaped from
Portland as well, but decided against it.  
Instead he looked over at the truck parked twenty yards away.
  Hank was resting inside and Eli leaned on the
truck’s grill, staring up at a circling hawk in the sky.
  Abby did a great job of patching up Hank’s
leg and they were sure he would be fine.  
Guy has more lives than a cat
.
  He looked back over at Abby.
  “How’d you stay alive so long?”

She pointed over at Eli.  
“Him. He
may be in his early teens, but the kid is amazing.
  Nothing seems to faze him.”

“What’s his story?”

She shrugged her shoulders.  
“He’s like unlocking a safe inside a safe.
  Doesn’t talk much, but wouldn’t trade him for
anything.”

Tom was a bit surprised to learn that Abby was in her
twenties. She had looked much younger,
but her maturity was evident the instant they began talking.
  She would never admit it, but he guessed she
had been as important for Eli as he was for her.

“These other two, you sure they’re going to meet you here?”

Tom breathed a heavy sigh and shook his head.
  “Not sure.”  
He hesitated for a bit. “I’ll
shoot you straight. We were after the
supplies…saving you two was a bonus. Before
we split up we agreed we would wait five miles down the road if things went
south. Close enough to make it on foot
if any of us had to.”

“I don’t mean to sound heartless, but how long do we wait?”

  Tom rubbed the
stubble on his chin. “I know...I get it.
  I’ve been wondering that myself.”
  He looked around at the empty field that
surrounded them. “Hour
more?”

Abby nodded her head.  
“Seems reasonable.”

“What’s your plan…or was your plan?”

“Wintered up in the Cascades.
  Heard there was a safe compound on the river
and decided to see if we could make life a little more…normal.”

“Your timing was bad.”  
Tom smiled a bit and shook his head.  
“Or it was good. These guys you
ran into killed everyone in the compound and took the supplies.”

“Oh man.” She said,
covering her mouth.
One day earlier
, she thought to herself.
   “Back to this Echo place.
  You really think there is something there?”

“Echo One.” He said
with a nod of his head. “I do.
  Maybe it is just naïve hope, but it’s all
I’ve got.”

“So we start at this old missile site?”

Tom liked that she used the word “we.”
  They could always use more people, especially
when they were good with guns.
“Yeah.”

“French fries.”

“What?” Tom said with
a confused look on his face.

“I miss fast food French fries more than anything.”

Tom had had this conversation about a hundred times.
  No matter who was in a conversation it always
turned to what was missed the most and that always led to food.
  He couldn’t resist the temptation.
  “Ice cream.”

“Mmmm.
  Good one.  
I can do you one better though.”  
She said with a smile.

“Oh really?”

“French fries and ice cream.
  Hot, cold, and
salty…delicious.”

“Good one.”

“I used to go with my mom to a little mom and pop diner. We
would always order waffle cut fries and milkshakes.”
  She got suddenly sober.
  “Died in Seattle.
  Eli and I tried to get to the hospital she
was in, but it was impossible.”

“You’ve been in Seattle after it hit?”

She started to respond, but stopped when she heard the
crunch
of footfalls on gravel.
  They both turned to see Eli approaching.
  He walked up to them without saying a
word. They all stood in an awkward
silence for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably less than a
dozen seconds.

“We need to move out.”  
Eli said.

Tom turned and looked back down the empty road.
  “Few more minutes.”

Eli nodded and turned back toward the truck.

Tom stood for a moment, looked at Abby, and then said, “They
have the same map we’ve got.” He shook
his head, indecision eating at the pit of his stomach.
  Hoping to convince himself of their safety,
he nodded his head and said, “With the map they will meet us at the site.”

“You sure?”

Hesitation and then several nods.
  “Let’s roll.”

******

“You sure this is it?”  
Abby asked.

Tom could see why she was asking.
  In front of them stood a
seven foot chain link fence topped with razor wire.
  Just off of a giant concrete pad sat two tiny
buildings. Their bland exteriors gave
away nothing and gave the appearance of little more than storage sheds.
  He looked down at the hand drawn map and then
turned a slow circle back to the gravel road they had parked on.
  The sign matched up with what he had and
Hank’s notes matched perfectly with the drive they had taken to get here.
  “Gotta
be. Let’s wake Hank.”

Abby half-skipped her way over to the truck.
 
That
girl has more energy than a pack of kindergarteners after snack time.
  She banged on the truck’s door with the back
of her fist and shouted something unintelligible.
  She stepped back several feet and stood,
waiting expectantly.

Hank was the first to climb out and Tom was relieved to see
him moving under his own power. He was
clearly hobbled and favoring his good leg, but he was putting weight on it and
it was moving. Both were more that Tom
thought he would be up to for quite some time.  
Eli followed him out, checking around the rear of the truck.

“Right place?”
  Tom asked as Hank shuffled up.

Hank looked around.  
“They don’t make missile sites obvious.”

That makes sense.
  “Cool…thought so.
  This place going to be
empty?”

“I would think so.  
Some were bought up by civilians and converted to homes…or bunkers.”

“Preppers.”
  Eli said.

Hank turned to him.  
“That’s right. They make a
perfect doomsday scenario hideout.”

“Sounds homey.”
  Abby said with a laugh.
  “Let’s check it out.”

The giant wheeled gate was held by a massive lock tucked
inside an opened bottom box made of steel plate.
  Tom reached his hand up inside the
lockbox. His heart hammered in his
chest, reminding him that he had watched far too many horror movies.
  Visions of a creepy bug chomping on his hand
flashed through his mind. Gingerly, he
felt along the cold metal, creating a mental image of the lock.
  The thick base twisted freely and he was
shocked to find the locking bar disengaged.  
With a gentle lift he flipped the lock clear and pulled it free.

Tom held it out. “I
think someone travels in and out of here…or used to.”

“Let’s hope for the latter.”  
Abby said.

The gate rattled and clinked as it rolled along the pavement.
  Once clear, Eli waved Tom forward.
  The truck rumbled through the opening, and
then Eli rolled the gate closed behind it.  
Tom pulled to a stop next to the nearest building.
  He looked over at Hank.

“What?” Hank said.

Tom shook his head.  
“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You always have a bad feeling.”

Tom laughed. “True,
but since it hit, everything
is
bad.”

Hank nodded and got out.  
Tom started to grab the keys and then decided to leave them in the
ignition just in case. He gave a couple taps
on the steering wheel and then climbed out to join the others.

Eli was in the rear of the truck, going through the
supplies. He began setting loaded
magazines along the back edge. “No
reason to go silent underground.” Each
of them began grabbing mags and jamming them into
pockets and pouches.

Hank looked all around.  
“Seems pretty desolate.”

Tom pulled a nearly empty magazine from his rifle and laid
it on the truck bed. He slammed a fresh
one into the well and said, “Better safe than sorry and all that.”

Abby stepped up to the small building and tested the door,
but found it locked. They weren’t going
to kick in the heavy steel door, so instead she stepped back a couple steps,
shifted to the side and raised her rifle.  
“To this side.”  
She said while waiting for the others to move behind her.
  Once everyone was clear she fired several
rapid shots to the side of the door handle.  
Ragged holes ripped through the thick metal.
  She lowered her rifle and Eli moved forward,
testing the door. After a few shakes he
shook his head and stepped back out of the way again.
  Rifle raised, Abby fired off two more
shots. Eli checked again, and this time
with several pulls and Tom’s help they were able to wrench the door free.

The interior was shrouded in dark shadows.
  Each of them clicked on their flashlights
mounted under their rifles’ quad-rails.  
Streaks of light cut through the darkness, revealing a flat gray
interior. The room was nearly
empty. Only a few scattered boxes and
loose papers dotted the flat cement floor.

“That was anti-climactic.”  
Hank said.

“Let’s check out the other building.”
  Tom said while backing out the door.

Fifty yards away sat a squat little building, smaller than
the average two car garage. It was made
of concrete and appeared much newer than the other building.

“Built later.”
  Hank said, looking down at the base of the
building.

Abby nodded her head.  
“To cover something up?”

“Let’s hope.” Tom
said.

The non-descript door looked incredibly stout.
  Unlike the previous door, this was a custom
built, steel plate behemoth. Flakes of
rust dotted the edges, but other than that it looked untouched.
  Eli stepped forward and rapped the back of
his hand against the metal. It made a
solid thud. They all looked it up and
down, not finding a handle or method of access.

“How do we get in this thing?”
  Abby asked.

“Blast door. Lock is
on the inside.” Tom said.
  He rubbed his chin a few times and then
looked over at Hank. “What if we go
Unimog on this thing?”

Hank stood still for a moment and then began shaking his
head. “Oh no, not
Unimog.”

Tom slapped an open hand on one of the cement cinder blocks
that made up the wall. “It’ll work.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

Tom slapped him on the shoulder and ran off.
  “Might want to move.”
  He shouted as he ran.

Abby looked over at Hank.  
“What is a Unimog ?”

“Long story.
  Unimog is a type of
truck. Tom crashed one through a
building in Spokane during the initial days.”

Abby looked toward the truck and then back at Hank.
  She began slowly nodding her head.
  “Ahhh.
  He’s right, we better move.”
  As they were all stepping away from the
building she added, “What happens if he ruins the truck?”

Eli stepped forward.  
“The deuce and a half is solid.  
Worst case, we walk back to Drexel.”

The truck rumbled to life.  
Tom drove straight at the squat building, but before hitting it he
turned hard to the side and pulled away from it.
  The large truck eased to a stop.
  It sat idling at a slight angle to the
building for a few seconds and then the engine revved up and it accelerated in
reverse. The large vehicle moved at
surprising speed across the pavement.  
There was an enormous
boom
like thunder as the rear of the truck’s bed slammed into the cinderblock
wall. The heavy steel pierced through
the wall, white dust floated in the air, and cement chips flew high.
  The hard shards clattered back to the ground
like hail. Tom jammed the truck back
into second gear and pulled forward.

Hank walked around the side of the building and looked at
where the truck had hit the wall. Even
through the cloud of cement dust he could see the dark hole that led to the building’s
interior. “It worked.”

Tom was just stepping down from the truck.
  “You sound surprised.”

Eli stepped up to the large hole with his gun up.
  His light bounced off the lingering
particles, scattering the brilliant light in all directions.
  “Good idea backing into it…saved the
engine.” He said before disappearing
into the opening. Tendrils of swirling
white powder chased after him.

The remaining three glanced at each other and then moved for
the opening as one. The cement cloud was
suffocating and stung their eyes, but they were quickly through and found Eli
standing just inside the building with his flashlight and rifle pointing at an
angle down a wide ramp. They all
followed his eyes. The ramp led
underground to a giant steel door.

“Good luck with that one.”  
Hank said.

“We don’t need luck.”  
Eli said.

Before Hank could ask what he was talking about, Tom started
down the ramp. “He’s right.
  It’s not closed all the way.”

The ramp leveled off, allowing a flat space that led up to
the huge door. The massive blast door
was dotted with rust and wear, but looked like it would outlast the rest of the
planet. At its base were several human
fingers barely jutting out from the darkness beyond.
  They were all that appeared to keep the door
from closing all the way.

Tom grabbed a round bar that acted as the door’s
handle. He looked back at the others and
when they all raised their rifles and nodded their heads, he gave the door a
hefty pull. The well balanced door
easily swung outward revealing a grisly scene beyond.