The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation (25 page)

Chapter 19

Nightmare

June 24
th
Evening

“Isn’t Mann’s going to hear our radio chatter with Cecil?” I asked as we pulled onto the road.

Fish smirked.  “Naw.  DJ is having him clean out the latrine or something.”

“The Captain is going to have a heyday with you boys,” Jenna laughed.

I wasn’t in the mood for their humor.  A part of me wondered how they could not be upset after the losing Chad and Gonzales.  Two months without a loss and two deaths in as many days.

Fish looked over and wrinkled his nose.  “Why isn’t the fleabag in the back with the other fleabag?”

“Screw you, Fish,” Jenna shot back.

“Because I wanted him up front,” I stated evenly.  Fish glared at me, but I brushed it off.

We drove into the city.  Shadows were creeping in around us as the sun moved closer to setting.

“Cecil, come in.” Fish said into his mic.  It was then I realized that he was the only one with a radio.  Runners never left the camp unless all were equipped with communications.

There was nothing for a moment, and then Cecil responded.

“Here,” he said in a whisper.

Fish keyed the mic again.  “Status?”

“Only a couple dead-heads in the building.  I can’t see into the lobby, but I can hear some moaning.  There’s a good chance they busted open the front door.”

“Alright.  Sit tight.”  Fish glanced into the rear view mirror.  “Jenna, you’re going to drive.  If there are Zulus in the parking lot, we’ll draw them off in the truck.  You’ll loop back and drop us off.  Keep the bastards occupied.”

She grinned.  “See, aren’t you glad I came along?”

“I’d be happier if you had a muzzle on,” he said under his breath and pulled the truck over. 

Fish, Boomer and I got into the back seat while Jenna took over the wheel.  She pulled ahead and drove toward the dentist office.

Shadows were getting longer as we turned the corner and saw the parking lot.  There were a dozen broken corpses on the pavement from earlier when Vader’s tires crushed them.  More bodies were lying near the door, splashes of dark blood behind their heads.

About thirty zombies were still in the area, mostly in the shade of the dental office building.  The shadows were growing with every second, and they were starting to fan out.

“This isn’t good.  The streets will be full in twenty minutes,” Jenna remarked as she drove slowly around the parking lot.  She managed to run a few over, but the front of her truck’s cattle catcher was designed to push them to the sides, rather than mow them down. 

“Hurry up, Jenna.  We don’t have all day,” Fish snapped.  Zombies were following us, but we needed to drag them further away to give Fish and I a shot at getting into the building safely.

“Cecil, how many rounds do you have left?” Fish asked.

The radio crackled.  “Three.  I spent a lot.”

“What about Chad’s gun?” I asked.

Fish relayed the question.

“He was still wearing it when they got him.  I think he’s reanimated already, because he’s no longer where he… I…”  Cecil broke off, unable to complete what he was trying to say.

Fish grimaced.  “We get it.  Alright.  We’re breaching the door in two minutes.  Be ready and for Christ’s sake, don’t shoot us.”

“Roger that,” Cecil replied and the radio went silent.

“You boys ready?” Jenna asked as she turned the truck one hundred and eighty degrees.  We were about three hundred feet from the dentist office now.

“Waiting on you, woman,” Fish muttered.

“Here we go!”  Jenna stomped on the gas and we sped toward the building.  The zombies, while not fast, were still pretty swift as the sun sank further and further down near the horizon.

She slowed down to a crawl as we approached the front door of the dentist office.  Fish jumped out, followed by Boomer and then me.

Cecil was right, the front door was ajar.  It seemed to close on its own, but the arm of a nearby zombie was stopping it.  A dime-sized hole was above its right eye.  To the left of the door was a giant window with a half a dozen holes.  The glass must have been industrial grade because the window was still holding strong.

Boomer immediately gave off the sign that zombies were nearby.  That was a given, with Jenna towing about thirty of them behind her, but Boomer was alerting into the building that we were about to go into.

“Hurry, kid!” Fish rasped.

I nodded and Boomer and I went to the door.  A low growl erupted from the canine’s belly.

I quickly turned on my flashlights after seeing Fish do the same.

Boomer was hunched down, preparing to pounce as soon as the door opened all the way.  I realized why when I heard a guttural moan coming from the other side. 

I kicked the zombie’s arm out of the way.  An object scattered across the pavement and I realized the zombie was holding a popper.  Cecil must have thrown them in a desperate attempt to distract the attacking corpses.

“Coming in!” Fish said into the radio.

I opened the door and stepped to the side.  Boomer growled louder and Fish shoved his suppressed .45 in the face of the zombie waiting on the other side.  The back of its head exploded in a black mist and it crumbled to the floor.

Fish pushed forward and I heard another muffled shot and another body hit the floor.  Boomer followed him and I shut the door behind us.

The first room appeared to be a waiting area.  There was one door leading to the back that was cocked halfway open.  A receptionist window was located just to the right of the door.  The glass that partially covered the opening was cracked and spider-webbed.

Three more bodies of zombies lay motionless on the floor.  One had to come from Fish’s recent shot.

“Where are you at?” Fish called, not bothering to use the radio.  It made sense.  At the most, a zombie would come shambling out from somewhere and be an easy target.  But none did.

“Coming!” Cecil yelled from somewhere in the back of the building.

Right then I realized Jenna wouldn’t know when we were coming out.  We didn’t take the time to pick up multiple radios, and the CB in the truck wasn’t linked to our hand radio network.

Boomer inched toward the door leading to the back rooms, sniffing.  He was on edge.

“I think it’s clear,” Fish concluded.  “I’m sure we would have heard one when Cecil and I yelled at each other.”

I nodded, but kept an eye on Boomer anyways.

Fish pushed his way through the door leading toward the back.  The hallway continued, but there was an open entryway leading to the receptionist desk on the right.

Fish walked past the doorway just as Boomer growled.  A hand reached out from the receptionist area and grabbed his ankle.

“Fish!” I yelled and shot the zombie’s forearm.  Fish jumped forward and spun, but not in time.

My warning had attracted the zombie.  Its head came around the corner and before I could shoot, the zombie sank its teeth into my shin.  In our rush to leave Camp Holly I had neglected to put on my usual body armor, and I just paid the price.

“Christian!” Fish barked.  His boot swung around and kicked the zombie in the head, effectively pulling a small chunk of my jeans and flesh with it.  Before the zombie could react, Fish fired two shots into the creatures head, spraying black ooze and brain matter on the tile floor.

I fell back against the wall, shaking from the pain.

“What happened?” Cecil asked as he walked toward us in the hallway.

Fish was staring at my wound.  Slowly his eyes came up to mine and locked on tight.

It’s hard to describe the emotions I saw in them.  Hatred really isn’t the right word.  Disgust might be closer to what I saw.  I don’t think it was directed at me as much as himself, though.

“Holy shit!” Cecil exhaled when he saw what had happened.  “My God, Christian.  I’m sorry…” he said.

Fish’s jaw clenched, and gave off an eerie ambiance in the glow of my flashlight.

Slowly, he raised his weapon.

“Fish, no!” I said in sudden realization of what was about to happen.

“I’m—” he started to say, but I cut him off.

“You can’t!  Listen to me,” I pleaded.

“Don’t make this hard, kid.” Fish’s voice was shaking, as was the .45 in his hand.

“Fish—” I began to plead again, but Cecil interrupted.

“If you need me to do it, Fish, I will—”

“Get out to the truck!” Fish roared, glaring at Cecil.

“I’m just saying…” He started to argue, but the look in Fish’s eyes said it all.  He would kill Cecil where he stood if he didn’t obey his order.

“Okay,” he nodded, and then glanced at me with an odd look as he walked out into the reception area.  I heard the front door open and shut again.  It was just me, Fish, and Boomer now.

I looked into Fish’s eyes.  They had gone cold.

“Fish, I’m telling you not to do this.  I didn’t tell you before but—”

He growled a loud and angry roar, reminiscent of a lion.  His hand slammed against the wall, creating a dent in the drywall.

“I’m sorry!” he said in a low snarl.  “I should have been more careful.  This is my fault.”

“Fish, it’s okay.  Look, I was trying to tell you, I’m immune.  I have been from the beginning!”

He breathed heavily.  “Christian…  Don’t beg.  Don’t make it end like that.”

Before I could say anything, I yelped in pain.  Boomer had started to lick the wound.

“See!” I exclaimed.  “Boomer isn’t reacting to the bite.  I told you, I can’t turn.  I’ve been bit more than once!”

Fish shook his head, partially lowering his gun.  I could see that he didn’t believe me.  Either that or he just didn’t hear me.  He was fighting an internal struggle, not sure if he should kill me or not.

“Fish…  Please…”

His face hardened again and he stared at me.  Or rather, past me, as if he had decided something.  He raised his .45 again and leveled at my head.

“Take your gear off,” he whispered.

“Fish—”

“Take your gear off!” he roared.  “All of it.  Drop your gun.”

I went silent.  Tears started forming in my eyes.  Not just because I thought I was going to die, but because I knew I may have been carrying humanity’s last hope.

I slowly took off my vest and dropped my Glock to the ground in front of me.  Boomer, who had been nursing my wound, turned to Fish.  A low rumble formed in his throat.  He knew something bad might be happening soon.

“Back up,” he said, emphasizing with a wave of his pistol.

I backed into the small receptionist area and unconsciously sat in the wheeled chair next to the desk.

Cecil’s voice blared over Fish’s radio.  “Fish, man, you have to hurry.  It’s getting dark and the shadows are starting to move.  Jenna’s having a shit fit!”

Fish looked toward the exit and then back to me.  He reached into his belt and pulled out his handcuffs. 

I saw a ray of hope through the bleakness before me.  I thought he was going to cuff me and take me back to the camp.

He tossed the cuffs to me and I caught them in my lap.  I was about to speak, but he beat me to it.

“Cuff yourself to the desk,” he said and glanced back out toward the front door. 

I followed his gaze and looked through the small receptionist window.  The light outside had almost completely faded.  The sun was close to going down.

“Fish…” I moaned.

Fish clinched his pistol and jabbed it in my direction.  “Now!”

I nodded and cuffed my left hand with one end and latched the other above a metal crossbeam on the side of the desk.

Fish snatched my Glock up and ejected the magazine.  He pulled back the slide and caught the bullet in midair as it ejected out of the port.  Then, he dropped the Glock at my feet.

His voice cracked as he spoke.  “I… can’t.  But… but you can.  Promise me you will.  For the sake of everyone at the camp.  The kids…” he choked.  “You have to, Christian.”

I didn’t know what to do.  I was entering self-preservation mode.  I would say anything to not be shot.

I nodded and stared down at my gun on the floor.

Fish tossed the bullet on the desk and then grabbed my ammo vest, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Boomer, come on,” he ordered my dog. 

Boomer didn’t move. 

“Boomer!” he called again.

Boomer, sensing the conflict, bared his teeth at Fish.

“Fine…  Be zombie food,” he mumbled, then looked back up at me.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he started to move toward the exit.