Undead 02 The Undead Haze (13 page)

It didn’t take long to find a pair of sturdy, waterproof boots among five aisles of hiking, hunting, and all purpose shoes. I selected Rocky Mountains, with a steel toe and zipper up the side, as well as laces. The box promised they were ergonomically designed and lightweight. They felt good when I put them on, but I knew they’d hurt after a while until they were broken in.

After we finished up in the boot section, I spotted racks of miscellaneous quick-buys. One of these held compact blades that folded into themselves. I paused to tear the packaging off and pocketed two. They were useless against the undead, but the world we lived in now made survival gear a requirement. Another cursory glance caught a space blanket packaged neatly in plastic. It was small enough I could shove it into my biggest pocket.

I heard the choir of moans coming from our left before we cleared the doorway. A horde of undead shuffled out of the driveway of an apartment complex across the way. They must’ve been drawn out by the explosion. They were heading in the direction it came from, all of them, until one spotted us.

I couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but it raised its head and moved our way. Others turned and followed once they saw closer prey.

Across town, towards the
Haggan
supermarket, dark smoke billowed high into the sky. It stood out against the heavy white snowfall.

We wasted no time climbing over the snow-covered cars, our speed motivated by the fear of being eaten alive.

Chapter 11

Adrenaline coursed through my body. My heart thumped loudly in my ears, mixing with the crunching my boots made as I ran through the snow. Each breath came out white and cloudy. My lungs ached, threatening to tighten up and never release.

Across the lot, Z’s continued to wander out of buildings. There were more in the vicinity than I originally thought. We might end up hitting a few on the way out, but I figured the truck could handle it.

But when we cleared the last of the cars and rounded the minivan, Beau and I stopped dead in our tracks. Walking past our truck were four men, one of them the man I hoped I’d never see again.

Crazy Kevin.

I dodged behind the van and jerked Beau with me.

“Mr. Sinclair, do not hide. I see you, just as He sees you, and I will still welcome you with open arms.”

Too late. He saw me.

“Plan. We need a plan,” Beau hissed. “We need to get into that truck. We can’t make it on foot. There’s a horde of undead coming our way.”

“Fuck, fuck!”

“Please, let your heart be warmed and come back to me,” Kevin went on. “These men will not hurt you or your heathen companion if you come on peaceful terms.”

I peeked around the van. They were twenty feet from us. Kevin’s men bristled and checked their guns. They were itching to shoot. Peaceful terms? I doubted it. But at least they weren’t hovering at the truck.

“I don’t think they know that’s our truck,” I said. “They passed it. If we can get to it we might make it out of here.”

“They have guns, Cyrus. We’ll be shot up before we make it anywhere.”

“There’s only four of them,” I said. “We’re doing this.”

Before he could stop me I leaned around the van, aimed at Kevin, and fired. The bullet didn’t hit its mark. Nerves got me. Instead it burrowed into the chest of the man next to him. He fell as the remaining two separated. Kevin came straight for me.

Then the rifle jammed. I hadn’t cleaned it well enough, but right then I blamed the universe instead.

“Run! Run for the fucking truck, Beau!”

I flipped the rifle around and clutched it as a bat. Beau was already moving past the van. A crazy was on him. He raised his handgun and fired. I didn’t see what happened after that.

Once I was around the van, I came face to face with Kevin. No more than two steps away from me, he stopped and withdrew a sword from within his robes.

“Mr. Sinclair, I will not give up on you,” he shouted. “My goodness overcomes the darkness that consumes you!”

He waved the sword in an arc over his head. Flecks of liquid flung off and splattered against me. It had a strong chemical smell. I couldn’t place it.

As he brought the sword full circle, it burst into flames. The orange glow cut through the grayness of the world around us.

I stumbled back. A flaming sword wasn’t something I expected. I heard shouts and glanced left. A bigger group of men, more than I could count, navigated through the parking lot towards us.

“You will be marked again, but not out of love. You will be burned for your insolence!”

I heard another shot. Behind Kevin, Beau was fist fighting a burly crazy.

Now or never. I gripped the rifle and rushed Kevin, swinging with everything I had. My rifle clanged against his sword. Drips of flaming liquid splattered onto my arm. I let his momentum push me back then angled my body so he slid right off me.

Kevin spun around, but his foot caught in the gore of the soccer mom’s corpse. He slipped. His sword clattered to the ground. I took one step towards him to deliver a final blow to his head, but had to duck as a bullet whizzed by my ear.

“Cyrus, come on!”

Beau was in the truck. The crazies were on me. When I turned back to Kevin, he was almost on his feet.

“Hey, Immortal One?”

Kevin stumbled towards me, his burned hands grasping. “This will not go without punishment, I will—”

“Fuck you.”

He stopped talking the second my rifle connected with his jaw.

* * *

The engine turned over without a hitch and Beau reversed out of the parking lot. Kevin’s men were taken down by their three friends, who came back as runners a moment after Beau and I got in the truck. I didn’t see Kevin get up. I hoped he was dead.

We backtracked, leaving the same way we entered. Stiffs coming from the fast food restaurants closest to us brushed against the truck, some even getting a few grabs in before we cleared them and pulled onto Highway 9. They forgot about us the moment we were gone, opting to shamble after the crazies instead.

As we drove, I watched the darkening smoke, twisting my body around to look through the back window. It still crept into the sky, deep and oily, but the plume was diminishing. Had that been an attempt to draw me out from hiding? How did Kevin know where I was?

Those unanswered questions couldn’t tarnish my smug satisfaction. I’d replay the sound of crushing Kevin’s jaw over and over again when I was feeling down. I set my hand against my coat, where the burn rested underneath. It wasn’t retribution for what he did to me, but it would have to do.

Beau slowed down to skirt around an abandoned red Corvette then sped up. The tires lost traction for a moment as the truck slid. He didn’t hit the brakes—a good snow driving tactic—and soon gained traction again.

“I’d like to think I was hallucinating, but I’m pretty sure that guy had a sword. And it was on fire.” Beau was still panting. His nose was bleeding. Other than that he was in good repair.

“You weren’t.” I stopped and thought, then I smelled my arm where the burning liquid hit. I remembered the lighter fluid on the table. “He used lighter fluid. Must’ve made some kind of contraption to disperse it onto the sword.”

“Damn.”

“I love saying this.” I grinned. “I told you so.”

Beau snorted, then changed the subject. “The snow doesn’t look like it’s going to let up and, after what just happened, I need a breather. We need to drive as long as it’s safe then stop somewhere. There isn’t much in the way of cities for most of the drive now. We can find an isolated house without a problem.”

We came to the intersection of 204 and Highway 9, which was blocked by sandbags. I thought about the right turn we’d originally made onto Market Place and the barricade there. The smoke seemed to be coming from that direction. The convoy must’ve tried blowing through the barrier.

Great. Crazies with explosives.

The windshield wipers fought the snow furiously. Beau decreased his speed as a flurry obscured the view ahead. We hadn’t been driving very long, but the trees were growing denser on either side of the highway. Pine branches sagged under heavy white mounds. I would’ve enjoyed the classic Northwest scenery had I not felt such dread.

Or maybe that feeling was just hunger. My stomach growled. We had plenty of food, but I hadn’t eaten since the morning. Our abrupt exit from the farm house didn’t leave much time for breakfast, and our determination to get snow supplies distracted us. But now I felt it—weak and in desperate need of protein.

There were a few protein bars in my backpack. I took the opportunity to check on Pickle, who was as tired and motionless as ever. Definitely not dead, though. I gnawed on the hard block of nourishment.

I was ready to forget about Kevin. There was no way he could’ve survived the battle we’d just left. Yet I kept looking in the rearview mirror, expecting to see his smiling face right behind me.

Chapter 12

Houses were set far away from the main road. They loomed behind trees and unruly sticker bushes, weeds growing over winding gravel driveways. Save for the occasional car coated in frost and snow, the road was abandoned. I felt the presence of anything—living or dead—begin to diminish.

The truck slid, drawing my attention away from the scenery. Each time it happened, I couldn’t help but brace myself for impact. Though Beau was a good driver, eventually he would lose control completely. If we were lucky, we’d come to a halt on the road. It was more likely we’d ram into a ditch and have no way to get out.

We were both feeling woozy from the head wounds, but we were making good time. If we had to stop and find another mode of transportation, I’d be pissed.

He reoriented the vehicle and the slide smoothed out. I exhaled in relief and looked back out the window.

The fear of losing transportation pushed me to remember the Hummer. When it was stolen by that band of crazies last summer, I was devastated. We lost a fortress with guns, ammo, and supplies. That’s what I expected to happen with the truck. At least, back then, we still had Blaze’s Mustang, which almost got us to our final destination.

It had been early enough in the apocalypse that practically any car we found was usable. Even the sportiest of sports cars worked fine, since the weather was hot and the roads were clear. But now, since the weather was
terrible
and all the cars had been sitting around, it was going to be harder to find one that worked.

My head swam suddenly, and dark spots faded in and out of my vision. I felt light headed and unbearably tired. The day passed by fast and already it grew darker. If I felt this bad, I could only imagine how Beau was doing. Was it even safe for him to drive?

“Are you feeling okay?”

He glanced at me. “Yeah. I think we should stop soon. We’re almost out of gas anyway.”

Great. The truck is probably going to run off the side of the road
and
we’re almost out of gas.

“We’re making good time, though,” I said. “How long can we go?”

“I won’t drive this thing on fumes, and we’re almost running on nothing.” He brought a hand up to his head to touch his wound. His face contorted from pain. “This thing is eating up fuel from the load in the back and so much slow city driving.”

We zoomed past a blue sign that said Lake Stevens High. Underneath it, another sign welded to the pole read
Evacuation Safe Zone
. I wondered how well that worked out before they were slaughtered. The thought passed quickly before my attention returned to Beau.

“What are the chances we’ll find anywhere with gas?”

“If we can’t find a station that isn’t electric, we might be able to siphon some from a car. Just take whatever is on the top. As long as it doesn’t have contaminants, it should be fine.”

I took Pickle out of the pack and fed her some Mazuri. She ate without her usual vigor and looked at me with sad red eyes. I could tell she liked the warmth coming from the heater, and I made sure it was directed at her.

“I’m surprised that thing is still alive after all this,” Beau said. “How long have you been carrying her around?”

“Since the moment I left my apartment, except when she was ferret-napped,” I answered. “She isn’t looking too good, though. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll make it.”

Just the thought of losing Pickle upset me. I knew she was suffering. After living in a backpack for so long and going through hell, I couldn’t expect her to last much longer. She’d soon be in ferret-heaven, or wherever they went when they died. At least I liked to think so.

She wasn’t a burden on me, but I couldn’t take care of her as well as I wanted to. Keeping a pet during the zombie apocalypse was selfish. I could never take care of her adequately.

Up ahead, yellow and red indicated a Shell gas station.

It was obscured by an old white building that housed the mini-mart part of the station. Once we were closer and Beau pulled off the road, we saw only one car at a pump. Its doors were closed. The cover over the service station blocked snow, the gray cement underneath was visible. We pulled up to a pump.

“I’ll keep watch and you take a look at the pump,” Beau said and started to open the door.

“Hold on.” I fished the space blanket out of my pocket and tore it open. It billowed into a large sheet, which I wrapped Pickle in, setting her underneath the backseat.

Normally I wouldn’t leave her alone, but I wasn’t going far. I couldn’t stand the idea of shoving her back into the pack if I didn’t have to. I felt like she understood my intentions. The space blanket would keep her warmer, too.

I took the carbine and opened the door, shutting it as softly as I could. Then I walked around the truck to Beau’s side where the pump was. It seemed like it got a hell of a lot colder while we were in the vehicle, but my new gear made a difference. I didn’t feel like I was freezing to death.

It wasn’t surprising in the least that the pump didn’t work. I’d been in the same situation before back at the station after Sultan. We needed some kind of hose or tube to siphon gas out of another car.