Chapter 14
I’m awakened by a crack of lightning. My eyes fly open just as the thunder booms outside, and I can feel it shake my bones through the concrete floor.
I sit up sharply, straining my eyes to see in the dark. The others heard it too, and we all scramble to our feet.
“What was that?” January whines.
“Shh!” we all whisper in concert.
Lightning cracks again, and it feels like it’s directly overhead. A boom of thunder rips through the sky in answer as sheets of rain pour down on the roof over our heads. Then I hear something else. Something nature didn’t create.
A screech fills the air, then another, and another, until I lose count. I imagine the woods surrounding us, alive with newly awakened carriers, and I shiver.
In the dark, I find my machete and grip it tight.
I move my finger over my lips, hoping the group can see my plea for absolute silence, but I can already hear sniffles coming from Jan’s direction.
Keisha rubs her arm, attempting to comfort her, but it only makes the sniffles louder.
I can only hope the rain muffles the sound.
I begin shoving anything I can find into my pack and rolling up my sleeping bag, silently encouraging the others to follow my lead.
Another crack of lightning screams overhead. This time, the tiny hairs on my arms rise up from the electricity. The next crash is indescribable. Something cracking apart and the scream of twisting metal. The noise is awful, but the realization of what just happened is far worse.
A flash of lightning reveals our truck, pinned under one of the tallest pine trees I’ve ever seen.
Its needles pour through the open doorway, nearly blocking our view to the outside, but another flash reveals just enough of the campground to show we’re in big trouble.
A mass of carriers races toward us, drawn by the awful sound. I lose count after seven.
My ears are ringing, and it takes me longer than it should to realize January is screaming, wide-eyed and red-faced, her hands over her ears.
“Shut her up or I’ll do it myself,” I hiss at Nurse Patrick, flashing my machete.
He goes to his bag and pulls out a syringe I didn’t know he was carrying.
Diazepam. In seconds, January is quiet, slumped against the bank of sinks, crying softly.
I don’t know what to do. I wonder if the tree and the truck blocking the open doorway will be enough to keep out the horde outside.
I touch the walls around me. Thin plywood.
Thin wet plywood. I press against the board and feel it give.
It won’t take much to bring this entire structure down around us. We need to escape.
The horde hits the truck and presses it tightly against the structure. The plywood creaks around us.
“Help! Help us!” Ginger screams wildly.
“Ginger, no!” I whisper harshly. “There’s no one to save us. You’re giving away our location! You need to be quiet! Get your boots on now! Put your backpack on. We’re getting out of here!”
I see the first arm breach the bathroom doorway, coming from underneath the truck. They’ve already found a way in.
“Keisha! Lucia! Grab your bats. Do not let them in here!”
I eye the back wall. Behind the thin plywood is the other half of the structure. The men’s side. It’s not barricaded, and I have no idea if the carriers have surrounded us or if they were all drawn to our side. I grip my machete and hope for a miracle.
I swing the machete with everything I have. I can hear the horde growing outside. Ginger sobs uselessly, but there’s nothing to be done about it. The others fight off the carriers who breach the barricade one by one.
Soon I’ve created a hole in the plywood separating the men’s and women’s bathrooms. I peer through it and see no movement. This might work. I keep hacking through the plywood until there’s a hole wide enough to fit through.
“Get your packs! We need to leave! Now!” I yell over a clap of thunder.
I step through the hole and into the other side, then wave the others through. Ginger goes first, followed by Lucia, then Keisha.
“Come on!” I urge. At this pace, it’ll be a miracle if we survive the night.
In the dim moonlight I can see Nurse Patrick struggling with the weight of January in his arms. She’s like a ragdoll, nothing but dead weight in her medicated state. He nearly drops her several times, but he finally manages to wedge himself and her lifeless frame through the hole in the wall.
We run through the men’s corridor, feeling for the exit in the dark, hoping the carriers were all drawn to the other side by the noise.
Above us, we hear the structure begin to give way. The pressure of the carriers and the tree pressing against the walls and roof is too much. The beams tilt and groan.
“Run!” I shout.
As we rush through the doorway, a tiny shriek catches my attention. Behind me, a carrier has Lucia by the ankle.
“Quinn!” In the dark, Lucia’s eyes beg me to help. I’m within arm’s reach of her, but I hesitate. I can’t help it. Every instinct screams at me to keep running.
I look ahead, then back at Lucia. Her tiny arms are locked now, holding the carrier’s body just inches above her face.
Its snapping jaws drip black bile. When I don’t come to help, Keisha whips into action and swings her bat at the carrier’s body, but it’s no use.
Keisha’s eyes flash with betrayal and beg me for help. I cave.
I wave Ginger and Nurse Patrick forward silently, pointing to a copse of trees, then run toward Keisha and Lucia as more lightning flashes.
I give the carrier a hard kick to the ribs, and it tumbles to the side.
I can feel its ribs crack under the force of my boot.
It rolls to the side, disoriented, and I step over Lucia to finish it off.
From the ground, the carrier reaches for me, black goo foaming between its snapping, screeching jaws.
I throw all my weight into my swing, letting the blade of my machete come down on the soft tissues of its neck.
My aim is true, and my swing is enough to separate the carrier’s head from its body, but there’s no time to celebrate.
We’ve attracted the attention of the horde.
Another flash of lightning reveals what’s coming, and my stomach sinks.
I grab Keisha’s hand and pull her forward, hoping Lucia is following.
When we reach the trees, we find Nurse Patrick, Ginger, and a sleeping January crouching behind a pile of fallen branches, stupidly waiting for us when they could have been yards ahead of the horde.
“We have to move. Let’s go,” I say without stopping.
Nurse Patrick picks up January, straining under her weight.
We run as fast as we can into the forest with no idea where we’re headed.
I can hear the wet footsteps of the carriers behind us getting closer.
Their screeches grow more and more impatient, and the thick raindrops pour relentlessly into my eyes, making it hard to see.
Keisha and Lucia keep pace with me, but when I look back, I see Nurse Patrick struggling to keep up.
Ginger runs awkwardly beside them, fighting for each breath.
Another flash of lightning reflects off something shiny ahead. I squint hard. Water. Lots of it. The river ahead of us glistens like a beacon of hope. I force my legs to keep pushing me forward and run faster.
In the next lightning flash, I see a row of canoes bobbing, tied to a small dock. I can taste our salvation. But one glance back tells me our chance of escape is narrowing by the second. The horde is too big and too fast for the others. For Keisha.
An idea forms. For a moment, I worry about what Keisha will think, then shake off the feeling. If I don’t do this now, she won’t survive.
I double back to Keisha and Lucia, who trail a few yards behind me. “Keisha! Lucia! Get into a canoe. Cut the rope and wait for us. Be ready to go!” I shout, turning back to run toward the others.
As I reach Nurse Patrick, I can see he’s barely holding on. January is weighing him down more with every step. The determination in his face is fierce, but the horde is closing in.
“Keep going toward the boats. Do not look back,” I say sternly. “I can hold off the carriers. Go!”
He nods and pushes forward, shouting over his shoulder in Ginger’s direction. “Keep moving, Ginger! We’re almost there!”
Ginger hobbles awkwardly just a few steps behind with three screeching carriers on her heels.
I pull out my machete and set my feet. Ginger runs toward me with hopeful eyes. A grateful smile tugs at her lips. When she’s just a step away, I let my machete swing downward toward her right leg.
As my blade meets bone, Ginger tumbles to the ground, and I hear the scream I was counting on. I don’t waste a single second. I turn and sprint for the canoes, but honestly, I could walk there if I wanted to. I have plenty of time now.
Behind me, Ginger’s screams turn to gurgles. Even through the rain and thunder, I can hear them tearing her apart.
I’m the last one to climb into the overcrowded canoe. It bucks wildly as I step inside. I sit down, and it begins to steady. No one speaks.
Lucia uses her new knife to slice through the ropes tethering us to the dock. The river does the rest, and we begin to float downstream, away from the chaos.
As I look back, I try to count the carriers, but they’re so tightly packed around Ginger, it’s impossible. Thunder booms in the distance. The storm is moving farther away from us now, but the rain keeps coming. Exhausted, we sit in the canoe in silence, shivering as the river moves us south.