Zombies Begin (Zombies Begin Series Book 1) (13 page)

The engine revved. The four-by-four sped off from the store in a cloud of dust. Tommy hung on to the wipers. Santiago slammed the brakes! The four-by-four skidded to an abrupt stop in the dirt. Tommy hurled, airborne, tearing the wipers from the windshield. His body connected with the rocky ground twelve feet in front of the four-by-four. He lay tattered and twisted.

Santiago stomped the accelerator. She wasn’t finished with him. She sped towards him, running over his broken body with the heavy vehicle. The four-by-four bumped twice. Once for each wheel. She slammed the brakes again, skidding to a stop. Her head low, gripping the steering wheel. She took a deep breath.

Her eyes slowly drifted up to the rear vision mirror. Her hand slightly adjusting it to see what had become of Tommy. His slim body came into her view as he slowly got back to his feet. His leg and arm broken. The shoulder hung awkwardly low, supporting the lifeless arm. He looked up to see Santiago reversing back towards him at full speed. Her eyes targeted him in the mirror. The big four-by-four chopped him down like a small twig. She hit the brakes, stopping with one of the tires pinning his chest to ground.

Santiago jumped out of the truck with the twelve gauge in one hand. She aimed the shotgun at him, unsure if he was dead or alive. His body still twitched.

***

Two gun shots cracked the desert sky. Fuller spun around to see where the shots had come from. He figured it must be Santiago. She had found the attacker. He bolted out of the home and across the yard. He found Santiago a short way from the store in the middle of a dirt clearing, not far from the side of the main road. As he approached her, she spun around, raising her gun to shoot. She was shaken. Anything that moved was going to get a cap put in it. When she saw Fuller, she lowered her weapon, dropped to her knees and sobbed. Exhausted.

Behind Fuller the infected clerk bounded toward the two, ready for an attack. Without thinking, Santiago raised the twelve gauge and squeezed the trigger. The shotgun kicked into her shoulder. The clerk jolted backwards, as if he had slammed into a brick wall, and crashed into the hard dirt. She breathed hard; hard and fast. Two lives taken. She dropped the gun, clenching her head.

Fuller stooped down to retrieve the gun. He couldn’t deny it; he was in awe of her kick-ass ability. She quickly pulled off the makeshift arm guards, frantically searching her arms for broken skin. Fortunately only a purple bruise in the shape of Tommy’s teeth patterned her soft, olive skin. Her breathing slowed the moment she confirmed Tommy’s teeth hadn’t broken the skin.

“We don’t know how many of these things escaped the facility,” she said quietly.

“Hopefully this is the only one.”

“If this gets out into the general public...”

“It’s already out!” interrupted Fuller.

“We have to find Dr. Fiedler. We need a cure!”

“We need an act of God.”

Bang, bang, bang—a heavy-handed knock shook the front door. Davis slowly opened his door, letting the cold morning air rush into his house. He was dressed in his customary tighty whities and an open dressing gown. He hid himself behind the half-open door. Samson barked frantically, trying to protect his owner and scare off any intruders. Davis scooped him up and tucked him under his arm to calm him.

Two sour-faced suits stood slightly off on each side of the door, cautiously scoping the area. They looked like soldiers in suits—short hair, rough exterior. One of them gripped a 9 mm handgun partially behind his back.

“You ladies look a little lost. The lesbian bar is a few blocks that way,” Davis said in a serious voice.

The two suits flashed each other a look, not impressed. The one gripped his gun a little tighter, itching to bust a cap in Davis.

Davis began to close the door. The agent in front stepped up, blocking it with his arm. He shoved an official looking government ID in Davis’ face. It was so close Davis could barely focus his eyes long enough to read it. Without delay the agent shoved it back into his charcoal-colored suit’s inside pocket.

“We’re looking for Michael Fuller,” the agent said. “Have you seen him?”

“Yeah he’s about this tall.” Davis indicated with his hand how tall Fuller was.

Smart ass. The agent moved a little closer to Davis—intimidation. “Within the last twenty-four hours?”

“How much cash you got?” asked Davis.

“Mr. Fuller is considered extremely dangerous and we suggest you provide us with any information you know about his whereabouts!”

“How about twenty quid per question? I got bills you know.”

The agent, frustrated with Davis’ lack of respect and cooperation, gave a quick glance around the neighborhood. The street naked. The armed agent closed on Davis. The morning sun gleamed on the sight of his black 9 mm Glock, pointed at Davis’ face. Davis’ heart pounded. His stomach churned. He stumbled back slightly into the house, eyes full of fear.

The agent cocked his gun. “You better tell me now, before I put a cap in your boney ass, you English prick.”

Davis momentarily glanced down behind the door. Unknown to the agents, Fuller squatted behind the partially opened front door, shotgun ready. Santiago remained hidden behind the sofa in the adjacent room.

Davis gave a nervous smile. He wasn’t sure what to do with all those guns around him. The agents tried to move the conversation further inside. As they forced their way in, the armed agent suddenly froze. He could feel cold, hard steel; the shotgun barrel pressed against the back of his neck, followed by the unnerving sound of a twelve gauge cocking.

“You boys want to tangle ass? Because I’ll tangle ass!” Lloyd said in a slow, quiet, commanding voice, as he stood behind the agents, outside.

“Sir! This is a federal investigation!” the lead agent said in a stern voice. “I suggest you go back to your home!”

Lloyd pushed his barrel a little harder into the agent’s neck.  “I suggest you take your girly guns and IDs and run along.”

“You’re a dead man,” the armed agent muttered. They knew there wasn’t much they could do, except bluff. All Lloyd had to do was squeeze the trigger slightly and he’d drop the first one; then he’d drop the next one before he drew his Glock. The agents reluctantly complied.

Lloyd kept up the pressure of the barrel against the agent’s neck as he holstered his 9 mm. The men didn’t utter another word. They slowly backed away from the house with Lloyd escorting them to their black sedan.

***

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the old (but tough as nails ex-military) Lloyd walked into the living room. Gun propped up on his shoulder. Santiago and Fuller were seated on the sofa, looking exhausted and disturbed. Davis stood near Santiago. He didn’t bother to cover himself. Instead he tried to flex what little chest muscles he had, and sucked in his chubby, little, pale, freckle-covered gut—an attempt to impress Santiago. She discreetly diverted her brown, almond-shaped eyes.

“We don’t have long before those spooks will be back with reinforcements.” Lloyd pointed at Fuller. “You better start talking, you crazy son o’ bitch. Last time I saw you, you were all jacked up on crack and wanting to eat his damn dog!”

Samson growled, displaying his small pointed teeth.

Fuller shot a look to Santiago.
Where do we start?
Before a word could be uttered, machine gun fire sprayed across the room with bits of broken window and other debris showering the four of them. Everyone hit the floor as the first few shots rang out. The gunfire didn’t stop. Bullets continued blasting through the walls and windows, tearing the house to shreds. The sound deafening.

The team followed Lloyd as he did a commando crawl across the floor toward the back door. His movements were quick and coordinated. The others dragged their uncoordinated bodies across the floor as glass and other debris covered them. Fuller was focused, staying right behind Lloyd. Santiago shaken. Davis let out screams of terror as clouds of plaster dust covered his hair. He lay on the floor covering his head for dear life. Fortunately Santiago’s toned and curved butt—accentuated by her tight jeans—distracted his mind as they scrambled toward the door.

The team made it to the back door, quickly slipping outside. They ran hard across the damp lawn, climbing the fence, and making it safely to Lloyd’s neighboring house.

The sound of gunfire suddenly ceased. Everything quiet.

A moment later, the front door of Davis’ house burst open; several tactical team members, led by Becksworth, entered the house, securing the entrance. They systematically searched through the house looking for survivors and any sign of Fuller and Santiago.

***

Three armored four-by-fours were parked on the front lawn. Scared neighbors peaked through their windows from across the street, not daring to come out. The tactical team finished up their search, spilling out of the house like roaches. Becksworth stormed out behind the team, visibly annoyed that they didn’t find anything.

“Search this whole damn street for the Englishman and the old man! And get local PD to assist! Start right here!” Becksworth pointed at Lloyd’s house.

Six tactical soldiers gathered on Lloyd’s front lawn, crouched and ready to breach the property’s front door.

The garage door suddenly exploded, sending pieces of metal across the lawn. Tactical team members ducked for cover. The truck—Beast—burst through the garage door, squealing its large tires and sliding halfway across the driveway, tearing up chunks of lawn.

Fuller hung out of the passenger window letting off several random shots with the twelve gauge.

Tactical team members scrambled to take cover as the shots rang out. The truck sped off up the street.

Becksworth unstuck himself from the ground, dusting off his uniform. He was pissed. “Tear these places apart!” He pointed to the two homes, as he reached for his cell phone. “I want names, family members, where they buy their friggin’ groceries. I want an APB put out for that vehicle. And get me a damn chopper!”

***

The Beast sped along the freeway. They were making their way out of the city. The four sat in silence, each a little shell shocked. Even Lloyd hadn’t seen this much action in over twenty years. The government would soon be hot on their tail and they didn’t have a game plan. Lloyd needed answers. He needed answers now.

At a small rest stop just outside of town he pulled over. “Okay, I want some damn answers, Freak Show!” Lloyd demanded, directing his question to Fuller. “And who’s the Latino princess you’ve picked up on the way?”

“My doctor.”

“About time you got your shit checked out.” Lloyd adjusted his mirror to look at Santiago in the back seat. “Okay, Doc, what’s the story with this fruit loop?”

Santiago cleared her throat and scratched at a non-existent stain with her nails on the seat in front of her. She wasn’t sure how to answer the abrupt question, but she thought she’d just give it to him straight up.

“The government has been working on a virus, so to speak. It has had an adverse reaction, causing people to have psychotic delusions... attack people, spreading from one person to another. It has spread into the general public, including yours truly.” She pointed at Fuller. “The government is trying to contain it by tying up loose ends… and we need your help to find the doctor who created it, so we can find a cure, before it’s too late.”

“Too late? Too late for what?” Davis injected.

“A pandemic…”

“What the fuck,” Davis mouthed silently. He knew exactly what she was saying. He had studied enough science and read enough books to know what was about to go down. He sat forward in the seat behind Fuller and poked him in the cheek. “You’re talking about zombies,” Davis muttered quietly.

“Why is he not trying to attack us?” Lloyd asked.

Fuller removed a bottle of his pills, held it up and gave it a small shake.

“That’s really reassuring. I’ve seen what you can do,” shot back Lloyd.

“You’re talking about a bloody zombie apocalypse! Right?!” interrupted Davis.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it that…” Santiago replied.

“We’re all dead. It’s started. It’s started.” Davis started to freak out. “I’m not ready for this! I haven’t even graduated yet.”

Everyone ignored Davis, letting him have a little meltdown all to himself. The four sat in silence. Fuller’s attention was drawn outside. He saw the leaves blowing in the wind. He was taken back to his childhood. The tall trees around his parents’ farm. Carefree, open country, fresh air and home-baked dinners. Not anymore. Instead, a concrete jungle, twisted steel and pollution. What had he gotten himself into? This wasn’t the plan. He wanted out of this mess.

Lloyd spoke up. “Why hasn’t he fully… you know? Turned?”

Santiago looked over to Fuller. His attention still on the trees.

“We’re not exactly sure. We think his exposure was minimal. He also may have a small resistance to the virus—”

“Not exactly sure?” Lloyd interrupted. “What kind of a show are you running here, Doc?”

“We didn’t get to finish our tests. The project was shut down.”

Lloyd tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Nothing was making sense. The doc was as crazy as the other two.

“We need your help to fix this,” said Fuller.

“Get out!” Lloyd pointed outside.

Fuller glanced over the back seat at Santiago.

“Please, we need all the help we can get,” Santiago pleaded. “We need to find a cure.”

“What if there is no cure?” Lloyd threw his hands in the air, visibly annoyed. “It’s over! You’ve now put me on the government hit list. These guys aren’t going to back down until all of us are in a body bag.”

Santiago gathered her items, ready to get out of the truck. She was fuming. She slid forward, getting close behind Lloyd’s ear. “Fine! Leave, you coward!”

“Wait a damn minute! Coward? I already served my country. I’ve seen things you’ve only had nightmares about! So if you want to play this hero shit and get a bullet in your ass, then go ahead. As for me, I’m bugging out.”

“If this spreads, you’re not going to have anywhere to bug out to,” fired back Santiago.

“Whether we like it or not, we’re going to war.” Fuller tried to reason with everyone. “Dr. Fiedler is the key to stopping this happening, and hopefully helping us get back our lives.”

“This isn’t my war! Now, get the hell out!”

Fuller opened his door, pausing before getting out. “It soon will be. This is a fight you can’t turn away from. You have to face it head on.” He stepped out onto the roadside.

Lloyd gazed out through the windshield, not even looking at them. Santiago soon followed, stepping out of the dirt covered truck.

“You too, English. Get out!”

Davis snapped out of his meltdown, realizing Lloyd was talking to him. He slowly climbed out of the truck with Samson tucked under his arm. The cold air hit his half-naked body, giving him a shiver. He pulled his night gown closed. Lloyd sped off, leaving the three of them standing at the secluded rest stop, in the cold.

***

The Beast made it a little further down the road, where Lloyd pulled his large vehicle over to the shoulder. He looked down at the twelve gauge resting by his leg. The words of Fuller and Santiago were starting to mess with his head. Images of mass devastation flashed in his mind. He had seen things no one should. War-torn villages. Fields of fire. His mind drifted to his family. A daughter and grandchild he never sees. What if they were right? A pandemic? A war was coming.

***

Lloyd pulled his truck up in front of the team. They hadn’t moved since he left them a few minutes ago. The three looked at each other and decided to get back in the truck. Lloyd stared straight ahead. As the three climbed into his truck, he held up his index finger, indicating he didn’t want anyone to speak. Not a word.

“Science boy?” questioned Lloyd.

The three looked at each other. Davis realized he must be talking to him. He nodded from the back seat that he was listening.