The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation (2 page)

By the time the fourth zombie fell, I was right up on the last two.  One reached for my rifle, ripping at it like it was an extension of me.

I had to keep moving forward.  The dead-heads that had cut me off were close behind.  I could hear them just feet behind me.

As nifty as my suppressed pistol was, it required two hands to draw from its makeshift holster.  It was impossible to use a regular holster with the oil filter attached to the end so I had strapped it to my side with a couple of old belts.  With the closest zombie hanging on my rifle and a second about to lunge in for a bite, I had to think fast.

You’re immune!
A voice screamed in my head.

Not to pain!
I mentally shouted back.

But I saw little choice.  I charged through, firing my AR-15 as I did.  The one holding the rifle took two rounds in the chest.  He was rocked back, but still held the barrel firmly.  In the same motion I tried to shoulder block the other one.  There is a reason I never tried out for the football team, and I proved it right then and there.

The zombie barely budged.  This was the one with the messed up leg, but that didn’t matter now.  He grappled onto my vest and dove in for a bite out of my shoulder.

I heard a loud crunch, like something breaking, and felt strong pressure where he tried to take a chunk out of me.  Not bothering to stop and fight them off, I continued forward, dragging the two behind me.

I twisted and turned myself and the rifle until I broke free of the two and almost fell face first to the floor.  I regained my balance and continued forward.

Panic filled me as I ran.  There was a chance Chuck wasn’t going to wait for me.  He could have taken off as soon as he and Karina were safely in his vehicle.

A snarl echoed in my ear right before I turned at the end of the aisle.  Too late, I spun to see the short, fat female zombie plunging toward me.  An indent shaped just like the top of the sledge hammer was imbedded in her face.  Jagged pieces of her cheekbone were poking out like razor blades.

She tackled me and caused us both to slide a couple of feet across the tile floor until my head smacked the edge of a metal shelf.

Immediately, she dove in, trying to take a chunk of flesh from my face.  I pushed her head aside, forcing it next to mine.  My move saved my face, but I felt her teeth sink into my forearm.

There wasn’t any time to waste.  I knew the rest of the dead-heads would be on us soon.  I grabbed her jaw with my other hand and pulled down, releasing my forearm.  My left hand then strangled her neck, keeping her from biting me again.  She tried forcing her mouth towards my hand, but it was futile.  I had her throat locked tight. 

I pushed back with my legs while ripping at my Glock that was tightly bound to my right leg.  Finally, I knocked her off of me, but lost my grip on her jugular.  Just in time, I wrenched my hand gun free and swung it in her direction.  The oil filter met her mouth as she dove back in.

I fired twice, though I’m sure the first shot was enough to put her down.  She collapsed on top of me.  Quickly, I rolled her off.

I couldn’t scramble to my feet fast enough as the gaggle I had been running from was closing in.  Once I was standing, though, they were just not quick enough to catch me.  I broke off and ran as fast as I could towards the exit.

With my heart pounding I burst out of the building and into the garden area.  My stomach was turning over and over as the thought of being abandoned kept rushing over me.  As I made my way towards the exit, I could hear the moans of dead outside mixed with what sounded like a car spinning out.

I readied my AR-15 as I came within a couple of feet of the door.  I wasn’t sure how many rounds I had left in it, but I didn’t think it mattered.  If they left me, I would probably be overrun before I could change out a magazine, not to mention I didn’t have enough bullets on me to take on the hoard that was waiting outside.

I took a deep breath and kicked open the door.

To my surprise, there were not a hundred dead-heads waiting to devour me.  And even more importantly, Chuck had not driven off, but was driving in circles around the parking lot.  The zombies couldn’t help but be attracted to the noise and motion of the large Jeep. 

The smell was horrendous, but what was worse was the noise.  The Jeep was loud, but the overwhelming croaks and groans of the hungry were drowning out all my cries to get Chuck’s attention.

I decided to take a chance and raised my rifle.  I shot at a few dead-heads that were near my position.  Luckily, the flash and bang of the AR-15 attracted Chuck.  Unluckily, it also attracted about a hundred zombies as well.  Santa Claus swung his sleigh around and headed straight for me.

Behind me, the moans of the dead who were following me grew closer.  I spun and shot at the first two coming through the garden area, taking one of them down. 

A screech from the Jeep told me Chuck had just pulled up next to me.  I spun to jump in.  The front end was a wreck.  I even caught sight of part of an arm hanging out of the radiator.  But of course, my priority was getting in and leaving this death trap, so I didn’t dwell on it.

He had reached over and flung the passenger door open.  I jumped in and the tires spun out as we drove off.  Boomer barked in excitement as I slammed the door shut.

I let out a huge breath.  “Thanks!”

The Jeep plowed through a group of the dead.  There was no choice but to hit them.  The whole compound had been swarmed by the walking corpses.

“Don’t thank me yet!” he said excitedly.  “You alright back there?” he asked with a turn of his head.

“Yeah,” I heard a scared voice reply.  I peeked back and saw Karina holding Boomer tight.  I couldn’t make out her pale skin or reddish brown curls in the dark, but I could see the fright in her brown eyes.

I wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing back in the building, but Chuck spoke up first as we skidded onto the main road.

“You alright, Christian?” he said, eyeing me crossly.

I noticed the blood on my sleeve.  It was dark, and he probably couldn’t make out the bite mark, but my flashlight, which was still on, must have illuminated fresh blood while I entered the truck.

“Scratched my arm on a rake,” I lied, and then changed the subject.  “Where are the others?”

“I was going to ask you that,” he said as we swung on to the main road heading north.  Chuck did his best to avoid the gaggles of zombies still coming into the area.  I could see he was a trained driver.  Maybe not combat driving, but police training was close enough.  He definitely was better than Fish.  Still, though, it was unavoidable and we smacked a few of the dead-heads as we maneuvered toward the bridge that crossed Interstate 95.

I thought about what he said for a second, confused.  Then I remembered.  I had the radio.  I checked to make sure the earpiece was secure, then reached down to hit the transmitter.

The police radio wasn’t there.  I must have lost it during my scuffle in the store. 

“Dammit!” I cursed angrily.

“What?” he asked.

“My radio is gone!”

Chuck let out a breath.  “Shit.  We know where they’re going, though, right?”

I nodded.  “Yeah, Camp Holly.  It’s a hell of a drive, though.” 

I looked out into the road.  One of the headlights was either broken or covered in zombie goo.  The one working light showed a massacre.  Bodies had been flattened or torn apart.  I guessed it was a result of Big Red and its plow.  There were still hundreds of zombies out there, but you could see a path had been made.  The ever growing number of zombies was already filling it in. 

Just before we made it to the bridge, the Jeep started to cough.  We were never expecting that much damage leaving the compound.  Big Red was supposed to clear our path to safety.  The Jeep Cherokee might have been tough, just not tough enough.

“We’re not going to make it much further,” Chuck grumbled.

“There!”  I called out, pointing toward a gas station just before the bridge.

“Too many windows,” Chuck argued, but added, “We can make a break for the freezer inside.” 

He turned the Jeep in the direction of the gas station.  There just wasn’t anywhere else for us to go.  The vehicle was sputtering and stalling as we crept forward.

“We’re never going to make it,” I said, looking around at the mass of zombies that were visible from both the headlight and the moonlight above.

“We have to,” Chuck maintained.

“Karina,” I said, spinning around to talk to the frightened young girl, “have you ever fired a gun?”

She shook her head ‘no’.

“Okay,” I nodded, “it’s going to be okay.”  I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe me.  Hell, I didn’t believe me.

“We’ll keep her in between us,” Chuck said.  “You take the lead.”

“Alright, take this,” I told him, grabbing my MP5 from the back and setting it on the center console.  “It’s fully loaded.  Karina, grab that pack,” I said motioning to my bug out bag.  She did, and I saw how big it was compared to her small frame.

“It’s heavy,” she said anxiously.

“If you can’t—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

“I can carry it!” she proclaimed with surprising defiance.

The Jeep was barely moving and I knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to make a run for it. 

“Open the door for Boomer to jump out first,” I told Karina.  “Then follow behind me.”

We were only two hundred feet from the front door of the gas station when the Jeep finally stalled for good.  Between us and the gas station were a hundred zombies scattered in small pockets of five or ten.  They all knew we were there, and they were already moving toward us.

I turned on the rest of my flashlights and prepared to move.

“Now!” I yelled before they could get any closer. 

I opened the door and immediately looked behind the Jeep.  Scores of dead-heads were behind us.  I couldn’t even begin to tell you how many because of how dark it was, but there had to be a thousand just from the movement I saw in the moonlight.

The back passenger door opened a couple of seconds later.  Boomer leaped out and came directly to my side.  I wish I could have told him to stay with Karina, but that would have been futile.  Boomer always took the lead.  Normally, that didn’t bother me, but I would rather not have him charging the zombies that blocked our path.

Chuck opened his door and Karina jumped out behind Boomer with my pack weighing heavily on one shoulder.

“Let’s go,” I said urgently.

We had some wiggle room, just not much.  The closest zombies coming at us from the gas station were a good twenty feet away, but with both of us charging at each other, that distance would shrink fast.

“Chuck, take the left!” I called out as I moved forward.  Just as I feared, Boomer jumped out in front, growling at the onslaught of death.  But he was careful not to get too close to the zombies.  Boomer knew they were dangerous.

We did well.  Chuck and I shot a decent sized path through the hoard.  I took care of the right, while he did the left.  I forgot about one thing, though.  Chuck didn’t have any spare magazines for the MP5.

We were thirty feet away when I heard him curse.  He pulled out his handgun and continued shooting as many zombies as he could.  Thankfully, he didn’t drop my weapon.

The gas station was elongated.  Most of the windows had already been smashed in and I prayed that there weren’t any dead-heads waiting for us when we entered.

Boomer made it to the edge of the building seconds before I did.  The window closest to us was missing and led behind the counter.  I regretted not putting a flashlight on my AR as I scanned the dark area behind the register with the light I had taped to my baseball cap.  It wasn’t that bright, but it seemed all clear.

Deciding it was best to send Boomer in first, I heaved him over the edge of the three foot wall.  He whined and squirmed, but I quickly dropped him to the other side praying no glass cut into his paws.

Karina was right in front of me when I turned around.

“Jump over!” I ordered as I watched Chuck getting surrounded fifteen feet away.  He was changing magazines as the zombies closed in on him.

“But—” she started to protest, but I cut her off, grabbing her and my bug out bag.

“Stay near the wall,” I said quickly, “If Boomer starts growling, find somewhere to hide!”  I pushed her over the edge and heard her clamor to the floor.

“I’m coming!” Chuck yelled at me, stealing my attention back to the hoard.

He was running, though wearily, with a number of zombies on his tail.  I lifted my AR and gave him cover fire, spending half the rounds out of my magazine. 

Chuck passed me and dove head first into the building.  I heard Karina yelp as he hit the ground.

“Cover me!” I yelled back at him as I shot at the zombies who were only feet away now.  I was afraid if I turned around, they would get the jump on me and drag me into the mass of dead coming behind them.

A gunshot went off right next to my head, and the closest zombie fell to the ground.  I cringed from the blast.  Spinning around, I climbed in as Chuck emptied another magazine out of his pistol.