Chapter 1 #3
He shrugs, earning him a dirty look. “We shouldn’t stay here too long,” he warns. “The noise will attract all kinds of creatures.”
I shudder as we move closer. Whether he means more infected, raiders, or something worse, I don’t really want to wait and find out.
After inspecting the fence and securing it, we make our way to the safe house. “Are the horses coming in with us?” I ask, concern blooming for my current companion.
Sal gives me a toothy grin. “Nah, they stay out here. Infected don’t bother ‘em.”
“Newly infected don’t,” I correct him. “But shadow stalkers would.”
“No shadow stalkers out here. When was the last time you heard of a spotting?”
I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. One hasn’t been seen in a while. Sighing, I let it go, even as I stroke my stallion’s neck softly, the worry not quite going away.
The safe house is pretty easy to distinguish from the others—large logs with spiked tops jut all around like a fence with barbed wire swirling around them. A few dead infected are impaled on the spears, their decaying eyes staring in different directions.
Sal and I hop off our horses, and as he takes them both by the reins, I stride over to the corpses.
Flies buzz around as the smell reaches my nostrils. I start breathing through my mouth as I inspect them from afar.
When the outbreak happened, I was still in college, so most of my education has been hands-on.
I thought this would be a weakness, as I wasn’t nearly as qualified as some of the other researchers, but Parker told me it didn’t matter.
I was inquisitive and loved learning all I could, and that was what made me a good person to have on his team.
While his words were nice, I struggle to feel adequate at what we’re doing. Half the time, conversations between Parker and Taylor go right over my head. I know the basics, but I always want to know more.
Which is why this infected is particularly interesting to me.
Upon first glance, it looks how all infected look: malnourished, elongated canines, hair turned white as the virus leeches nutrients from the body. The eyes are cloudy, so I can’t tell if the red ring around the iris was present, but there’s one difference I find strange.
The veins in the infected’s neck look dark blue and coiled.
My face scrunches as I lean closer, trying to see—
“Boo!” Hands on my shoulders from behind have a shriek rise up my lungs as I spin around to find Sal laughing, hands on his knees. “Oh man, I got you—”
He’s interrupted by the safe house front door banging open and a man stepping onto the porch, rifle pointed at us. “Looking to join the party?”
All blood leaves my head as we face a raider. Before Sal or I can wield our weapons, the raider shoots. Sal’s head whips back as blood spurts from the entrance wound, falling to the ground.
Shock overrides my system as a pained yelp erupts from me. My body freezes, unable or unwilling to look at Sal.
“Hands up!” he shouts at me.
A snarl passes my lips as I reluctantly lift them, palms forward.
He gives me a hideous grin. “Come on closer, darlin’.”
Anger wars with my panic. “Little far from your territory, aren’t you?
” I can’t help but sneer, my feet rooted to the spot.
Raiders are nothing but thieves and murderers.
They refused to join the zones, instead deciding that it’s better to steal and kill than to help survive together.
There are pockets of the city that are under their control, but they have no problem pushing into the zones whenever they please.
They have their own hierarchy and camps, sometimes leading to raids and killings between them, but they’ll never pass up an opportunity to attack zone members.
Still, being this far from the city center is new.
Two other men, both armed to the teeth, step through the front door, their eyes alight with a disturbing hunger. No wonder the previous patrollers never made it back.
“What ya got, man?” one of them says.
The shooter’s grin widens into a smile that turns my stomach. “Just a little prize.” He lowers his gun a bit, but I’m not fooled—he’ll shoot me in a heartbeat if I even blink wrong. “You checking out the perimeter, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
He saunters forward, his eyes roving over me possessively. “Why don’t you empty your pack for us, show us what you got on you?”
I grind my teeth, my body screaming at me not to obey.
He sucks on a tooth before lifting the gun again. “Now, now, you wouldn’t want to ruin the fun, right? We’re just getting started.”
The men behind him let out sadistic laughs, which only emboldens the one in front of me.
“I really don’t want to shoot you, sweetheart.
I’d rather share you with my brothers.” He struts off the porch toward me, the barrel of his gun taunting me just as much as he is.
“But I will if you don’t do what I fucking told you to do. ”
Stiffly, I reach for my backpack straps, about to yank it off when all three of their heads whip to the side, eyes wide.
“Shit, did you hear that?” one of them exclaims.
My ears perk up, and I dare to look in the same direction. It could easily be mistaken for the hissing of grass moving in the wind, but we all know better than that.
The one before me swings his gun from me to the distance, readying himself.
Before a dozen infected race from behind another house, snarls like a cacophony of disturbing alarm bells.
“Fuck!” one of the men yells before they open fire, trying to down as many as possible.
I don’t hesitate to race in the opposite direction, trying to get to my horse before the infected do.
The stallion runs toward me around the side of the house, panic in his eyes.
I reach for the reins, which he fights me on, but eventually, he lets me climb atop his back.
I kick him into a sprint and he doesn’t waste time, revving up like an engine and leaving the raiders in the dust.
Their screams and curses mixed with the snarls of the dead gets quieter as we keep going, but I don’t slow the horse down. Some infected like the chase.
I peek over my shoulder, the overwhelming sense of being followed flooding my system as I see a handful of infected racing for us. Their mouths are open, baring their elongated canines as they chase us.
My horse gallops faster, the distance between me and the horde growing with each second. I grip the reins hard, not letting myself feel relief until I’m back through the gate. Harsh winds threaten to knock me off.
“Faster,” I shout, but I doubt he can hear me over the roaring.
I dare a glance behind us, and I can no longer make out the faces of the infected chasing me.
Michelle was right; I shouldn’t have left the safety of our building.
If I can outrun them, I’ll safely get back to the zone without the fear of them following, but it’s not a guarantee. I need to make sure I lose them before damning everyone else.
My horse suddenly veers left, shocking me and nearly throwing me from the saddle.
I twist my head to look to the right and see a few infected charging toward us, frothing at the mouth.
I pull my pistol from its holster and fire multiple shots, managing to down two.
I fire again, trying to kill the remaining one, when it ducks behind a rotting fence.
Twisting forward, my braid slapping against my cheek, I put my gun away and kick my horse’s side to tell him to go faster, even though he doesn’t need it—he doesn’t want to get ambushed either.
The high-rise buildings and skyscrapers are getting closer, meaning I have to decide: run straight to safety and risk everyone, or guide them further away and risk myself. A horde this size running directly into the fence will surely cause it to collapse.
Should I radio to the zone that a horde is on my tail and to be prepared for them to break through the fence?
I let out a quiet screech of frustration and direct my horse to stay on the outskirts. I don’t have enough bullets or supplies to last long, but I could never live with myself if I fucked everyone over.
Agitation worms under my skin as I work through how long we can run for, when something collides with me, knocking me from my horse. I hear my horse’s panicked shriek as I fall from his back, but he doesn’t bother to stop running.
I don’t blame him.
My head smashes into the pavement below, making me see stars.
Get up, I shout to myself. I scramble into a seated position, my vision tripling as I spot the infected before me.
The infected snarls at me, and I reach for my gun. Head splitting pain radiates through my brain, but I can’t give up. I can’t die like this. There’s three of it vibrating in my vision, so I pick one and fire haphazardly as I crawl backward.
The monster roars before advancing again. I take another shot, and the gun clicks.
No more ammo.
I swing my arm, hoping to hit them with my gun, but it grabs my wrist before climbing over me. Its head blocks out the dying sun that shines above us.
The fight leaves me as I realize I’m done for. It’s going to bite me. My body will succumb to the virus, and I’ll die while my body is forced to exist long after I do.
I try to keep my eyes open, to stare down death, as I await the dreaded bite.
But it doesn’t come.
What comes instead is a blow to the head, and everything goes black.