The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned (38 page)

The place had been ransacked with the much of
the contents scattered on the floor and the shelving units
overturned. They briefly surveyed the area from the doorway before
continuing deeper into the windowless building, their lights
tracing bright paths before them.

“Over there,” Sarah called, shining her light
down an aisle that had held a bin of vegetable and flower seed
packets which were now littering the floor around the empty metal
bin. They hastily gathered everything they could find that was
still intact, as many of the packs had been chewed through and
their contents eaten by rodents. Still, they managed to stuff the
satchel that Jeremy carried nearly full with undamaged packs of a
variety of vegetable seeds. Heinlich then led them through the
double doors to the attached warehouse where bulk sacks and
containers of feed, seed and fertilizer were stored. Sarah grabbed
a flatbed cart and they soon found several bags of sweet white seed
corn, soybean, and winter wheat that the mice and rats hadn’t torn
through yet, along with a couple of 50-pound bags of 10-10-10
fertilizer that Heinlich threw on the cart as an afterthought
thinking that it was better to have it and not need it, even though
he had said all he was going to scavenge was the seeds. Jeremy and
Sarah together pushed the heavily laden cart out through the
swinging double doors back into the main store and maneuvered it
toward the main entry doors while the Sergeant cleared a path
through the scattered merchandise with his boots.

The cart wouldn’t fit through the frame of
the front door, so they left it sitting on the inside. Heinlich
hefted one of the canvas sacks onto his wide shoulders and started
through the door, suddenly freezing in his tracks and the bag slid
to the floor with a thud. He fumbled for his rifle, his eyes locked
on something outside the store. Sarah and Jeremy tried to see out
past his wide, bulky physique into the brilliant light of the day,
however, he effectively blocked their view. Jeremy quickly dropped
his satchel and raised his rifle, stepping to the side of the door
next to the Sergeant.

Sergeant Heinlich stared at the three men,
crazies by the way they were scantily dressed and from the
blood-tinged drool that hung from their lips. He loosened his rifle
and brought it to bear on the closest of the creatures. The three
crazies merely stood there at the rear of the Humvee glaring back
at him. The lead one in soiled, tattered coveralls, sneered at the
man, its eyes seeming to mock the Sergeant, and then it sprang
sideways out of view with a speed that startled the man. In the
blink of an eye, even before he could fire off a shot, the other
two had vaulted off after the leader. Jeremy tried to peer through
beside Heinlich and the Sergeant motioned him back inside, taking a
step back deeper into the store himself. He held up three fingers
then made a circular motion around his ear with a finger and then
pointed outside. The boy and girl nodded in understanding.

Heinlich poked his head out around the
doorframe and didn’t spot the three strange-acting crazies. He
ducked back inside and made a motion that he had lost sight of
them. Their actions confused him and had thrown him off of his
game, causing him to pause when he should have fired. He had never
encountered a crazy before that hadn’t launched itself at a human
upon first contact. This was a totally new and unexpected reaction.
He didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t like it one damn bit at
all. The enemy wasn’t supposed to change its tactics mid-fight, at
least this enemy wasn’t. Where the fuck did they go? Were there
more of them out there?

The Sergeant shouldered his rifle, took a
deep breath, and stepped out into the daylight. He cautiously
stepped away from the doorway while scanning the area through the
ACOG scope attached to the top rail of his rifle. Behind him Sarah
and Jeremy emerged, assuming defensive positions down each side of
the building. The crazies seemed to have disappeared like a ghost
through a fog.

“You two stay frosty, I’ll get the shit
loaded in the back of the Humvee while you cover me.”

He immediately stepped back inside and
shouldered two of the sacks, racing back to the Humvee where he
threw them unceremoniously into the rear. It took him two more
trips and under a minute he had the last of the supplies
loaded.

“Come on, let’s—” he started to order when
something hit him from above like a sack of concrete, knocking him
hard to the ground. He saw two other shapes launch themselves off
of the low roof of the building at Sarah and the boy. Then he lost
sight of everyone. He hit the ground and rolled, trying to get away
from what had hit him. He did a quick self-evaluation as he rolled
and nothing felt like it was broken. He ended up on one knee next
to the Humvee’s front driver’s wheel and pressed his back against
the hard rubber. The thing stood up from where it had fallen after
landing on him and in one fluid motion launched itself like a
hunting cat onto him. It was the leader of the three that he had
locked eyes with before. It snarled and collided with him, spraying
saliva from its snapping teeth as it tried to take off a piece of
the Sergeant’s face. Heinlich managed get his forearm up and into
the throat of the creature forcing its head back and away from him.
The thing landed a solid blow against his temple with a knotted
fist, sending a bright burst of stars across his vision. The
creature’s other hand found his ear and was trying to tear it from
his head, causing tears of pain to flood his eyes.

With his own growl, the Sergeant pushed
himself forward off of the tire, throwing the crazy backwards onto
the gravel and landing on the thing’s chest with his thick forearm
pressing deeply into the snarling creature’s windpipe, the man
writhing wildly like a bucking bronco beneath him. He slid his free
hand down to the handle of his M9 bayonet knife and slid it from
its sheath. He put his full weight onto the arm that was pinning
the crazy to the ground as it fought viciously to free itself,
clawing and pounding on the bull of a man on top of it. Heinlich
rammed the seven inch blade to the hilt into the creature’s temple
and gave it a hard twist for good measure. He felt its hot blood
coat his hand in a wet, red gush and the crazy man went limp
beneath him.

Jeremy saw the Loony in coveralls fall from
the roof to crash into the Sergeant and glimpsed another dark shape
as it launched off the roof toward him. He threw himself to the
ground and rolled away, keeping his rifle pressed to his chest. The
creature grazed his shoulder while he was dropping out of the way
and the thing hit the ground with stunning force, knocking the
breath from it in a loud whoosh.

The boy rolled onto his side facing the back
of the stunned Loony and promptly freeing his rifle, fired several
un-aimed shots at it. All three rounds found their target and he
was rewarded with a kill shot when one of the bullets entered the
back of its head and burst out through it nose in a messy spray of
brain matter and blood. Through the ringing in his ears he heard
Sarah’s shrill cries and immediately sat up. On the other side of
the Sergeant, who was still fighting with his own Loony, Sarah lay
with her back being ground into the gravel as a large mostly naked
male was pressing down on her. Its grimy hands found her thin neck
and wrapped tightly around it with its thumbs pressing cruelly into
her windpipe, cutting off her breath in mid-scream. Her ragged
fingernails drew bloody furrows down the creature’s sparsely
bearded cheeks as she struggled to free herself from its killing
grip. It completely ignored the pain as if it was no more than a
mosquito sting while it hissed at her with a spray of spittle and
forced its hands tighter around her throat. Jeremy jumped to his
feet and sprinted toward them, rapidly closing the distance as the
Loony lifted her head and slammed it repeatedly into the limestone
gravel of the parking area. Bright red spots of blood blossomed on
the back of her head through her silver-gold hair. Her face was
turning an ugly purple and her eyes bugged out of their sockets
from lack of oxygen.

Jeremy slammed bodily into the Loony while
yelling for it to get off of her. It toppled sideways under him but
retained its tight grip on the girl’s throat. Already her struggles
were getting weaker. Jeremy freed his 9mm from its holster, pressed
the barrel firmly into the man-creature’s ear and squeezed the
trigger. The back of its head opened up like a watermelon from a
firecracker and it jerked spasmodically under him as its lifeblood
gushed from the wound in great gouts. Its fingers stayed locked
like a vise on the windpipe of the now unconscious girl and when
Jeremy couldn’t pry the fingers free he swiftly took out his knife,
slit the tendons of the Loony’s thumbs, and the hands dropped free.
With her windpipe again open, Sarah took in whooping breaths of air
through her damaged throat. Her eyes fluttered open and slowly
focused on Jeremy’s face.

“You saved me?” she croaked out before
coughing hoarsely.

Jeremy nodded. “I’m sorry I was mad at you
earlier,” he whispered to her and leaned in, kissing her on the
cheek. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and practically jumped
out of his skin before hearing the familiar, rough voice of the
Sergeant.

“We gotta get out of here. Let’s get her into
the Humvee.”

Jeremy helped the Sergeant lift Sarah up and
put her into the passenger seat of their vehicle. He jumped in
behind her and as Heinlich started the vehicle and sped away in a
spray of gravel while Jeremy applied a piece of folded gauze to the
back of her head where the blue-chip gravel had caused a number of
small cuts and abrasions. Sarah poured half a bottle of water down
her painfully bruised throat before she was able to thank the boy
in a hoarse, painful whisper.

Lamar pulled the Escalade off onto the center
berm of the divided highway where a large weather-stained square of
plywood had been conspicuously staked into the ground so it could
be seen by anyone travelling south in either the northbound or
southbound lanes. Painted on the wood in big black letters were the
words: “READ IF YOU NEED HELP”. Attached to the bottom edge of the
sign in a clear Ziploc plastic bag was a sheaf of paper with what
appeared to be handwriting on them.

“Who you think be leavin’ a message like dat,
Juice?” Roshawna asked, sitting casually beside him, her fat bulk
overflowing the Escalade’s spacious seat. It was getting close to
dusk and they had been discussing where to find a place to hole up
for the night. It had been a long day filled with gathering fuel
from some of the abandoned vehicles by knocking holes in their
tanks and catching the precious gas that spilled out. They had
spotted the sign as they carried on their destructive trek south
and couldn’t resist stopping.

Lamar didn’t answer her question, only opened
his door and stepped out. He motioned to his crew in the following
vehicles to stay where they were, holding his piece in one hand in
case there was any trouble. He walked up to the sign and tore down
the gallon-sized bag that held the paper, opened it, and stared at
the top sheet, then rifled through the rest. Each had the same
handwritten message on it. The Virginia Army National Guard was
establishing control in this area and anyone who needed food and
safety would be helped. They were well armed and well supplied and
would help protect anyone from the ‘crazies’ who volunteered to
join up with them.

“Dey callin’ dem creepy-creeps crazies,” he
muttered when he’d read the message. It gave directions to a safe
compound a few miles ahead where once every day or so an Army unit
would be by looking for refugees.

“Shit! The motha-fuckin’ Army huh?” Lamar
said out loud to himself. He took one of the papers with the
directions to the compound and threw the rest into the thick weeds
that separated the north and southbound lanes of the highway. ‘What
da fuck da Army doin’ way out heah? Dem niggahs probly hidin’ from
da creepy-creeps, not fighten’ dem.” He nodded to himself, his mind
finding that simple conclusion acceptable. “Nash’nal Guard huh?
Ain’t even real Army.”

He walked back up to the Escalade while
re-reading the letter. He looked back along the convoy and saw
Crazy-8 hanging out the window of his truck and motioning ‘what’s
up?’ with his hands. Lamar told him to get his ass down here and
told Roshawna to get out too. Crazy-8 wasn’t real good at reading
so Lamar read the letter to his two captains.

“What you think, cuz?” he asked after he
finished.

Crazy-8 glanced up at the big sign then back
at Juicy-Juice. “We low on bullets n dem gats they has wood sure be
better’n wut we got.”

“Word up, dawg.” Lamar nodded his head in
agreement.

Roshawna harrumphed loudly with her fists
buried in her ample sides. “Yo! I hear you right? You two dumb
nigga’s gonna go bangin’ agains’ the Army?”

“Shit. Ain’t no Army, woman. Bunch a punk-as
wanna-bes all dey is.” Lamar thought the big homegirl had more
balls than that. Maybe he should rethink making her a captain.
“They got what we needs, n we gonna get what dey got.”

He told Crazy-8 to let the rest of the crew
know they were going to be taking a detour, then climbed back into
the Caddy with Roshawna.

“You gonna tell me how you gonna smoke a
buncha Army dudes who gon’ be shootin’ back atcho black ass?” she
asked in a haughty voice, her chin held high. “Man, you be
trippin’!”

“Fuck dat shit, dis shit gonna be easy, like
takin’ candy from a baby.” He scowled at her coldly and she glared
back at him waiting to hear a plan. He leaned back in his seat and
stretched his arms over his head, putting a plan together in his
mind. He had never been afraid of five-oh and he wan’t about to be
afraid of some raggedy group of weekend warriors.