A New World: Untold Stories (31 page)
Everyone just nodded, not really knowing what could be happening.
“Or, it could be the plane,” Elise commented, voicing her opinion in one of her rare interjections.
“It could be, I guess. I don’t think that was a bomber but I don’t really know for sure,” Sam replied, only to jump sideways as a lone screamer slammed against the security cage in the store window.
* * * *
Death from the sky was out tonight, searching for more of his kind to destroy. His group avoided most of their own kind due to bad experiences which resulted in many of their brothers being killed. A splinter pack, broken off from a much larger horde that was no more, had started setting up their own shelter before things got bad. To allow a two-legged that wasn’t food within the camp seemed to go against the very essence of their being and could only lead to ruin which it had.
Sticking to the shadows, much as she had taught them, they caught small rodents, cats and dogs coming to scavenge from the carnage left behind. What seemed nothing but rubble tended to provide a steady meal for his pack. They waited as the vibrations of the prowling death became distant, the sounds of its attention being directed at another portion of the city as it had for the last couple of nights. The hunting was slow and he was about to head to another hunting ground when he instinctively flung himself on to the ground as a huge fire ball shot into the sky lighting up the night. The ground shook and the wind raged outward from the blast, flinging any unsecured debris into the air only to switch directions as the air rushed back to feed the fire’s irrefutable need for oxygen.
The others in his pack whimpered with fear as they hid from the blast, but he didn’t. He worried about them being weaker as two of his own were killed in the blast, their life force snuffed out. The mushroom cloud hung like shrouded death over the city and he knew that they must return to their lair and hide from this terrible night. He could sense in the distance that many more of his kind was gone. No, tonight was a good night to hide even though they were still hungry.
As the pack, down two members, approached their lair, they could all sense that something about their home was different. Something not only smelled wrong, deliciously wrong, but they could hear voices. Maybe they would not go hungry tonight after all, but he was smart enough to know that the two-legged always had teeth.
Seeing that the windows were shattered and the two-legged standing casually talking was enough to send the younger ones into a rage. They threw themselves into the caged windows as the smarter ones watched, waiting for the prey to present itself. They screamed with rage as their food sat just beyond their reach. Then, their bodies suddenly began to spasm and jerk as hot chunks of steel perforated holes through them before they fell dead on the ground.
He and the rest of his pack crouched low in the trees out of view. He motioned and five of his own knew what he wanted them to do. They headed off to the opposite side of the building as he and the rest moved towards the closer side and back doors located there. He knew that they wouldn’t open; you don’t live in a lair for a while without knowing all of its secrets. He went to one of a few windows that were high off the ground on the inside but at ground level where the building was dug into the hill. The kind of window you wouldn’t probably see in the darkened interior. He wasn’t aware that he had picked the window in the worst state of repair and was able to pull it, frame and all, right out from its concrete surround. He and four others slowly slipped through the window and immediately heard voices in a far room. In the old days, he would have instantly followed his instincts and rushed into the room with the legendary screech of his kind, but he had learned that would usually result in death. He survived her by secretly sneaking away with his pack, resisting the urge to kill her and eat her pet human. He would feed tonight by using those same skills and told his followers that the first noise from them would result in a horrible death from his hand. The five of them crept through the storage room as five more screamers worked at the much better-conditioned window on the other side of the building. He thought about telling them the other side was open but never bothered.
They were close now and he could actually make out their words, which always tickled the faintest hints of recognition deep within; recognition from a time of laws and control from the masses. Now was the golden age. Now was the time of freedom. Now it was their world.
****
“So, what do you plan on doing once the island is secure?” Roger prodded Zack, having warmed to his easy going nature.
“Farm. A side of beef or fresh vegetables may not be a big item now with all of the abandoned food available, but when things stabilize in a year or two, it will be worth its weight in bullets,” Zack replied as he waited for the next attack.
He was nervous because they usually were relentless in their attacks. In the past, they knew nothing but full-on rage until one or the other were dead, but he had seen the others out in the parking lot. He knew they were still there, but what were they planning?
“What, no family back in San Diego?”
“No, just my bro back on the island. My married life was a short story, a fantasy short story. Shhht.” Zack said as he held up his hand as he turned towards the storage room.
The others heard or felt something too as all guns, other than Sam’s, suddenly pointed back into the store. Sam had been living on the edge in the apocalypse for months protecting his only remaining child as he fought beside his wife. He watched the front with his rifle pointed low, ready to swing wherever he needed as he reached down and slowly unlocked the security cage on the shattered window frame before putting his back to the wall.
I’m not going to get caught without an escape ever again
, he thought as he visually checked the path way to the roof.
Sam would let the others handle the attack while he kept an eye on the back door making sure their exits were clear. The sound of breaking glass father back in the store room let them know where their mistake was, they never thought to look for windows.
The attack began with a manic rush as four dashed in from a door off to the side. Janine was first to notice them as the dim light, cast by the burning city in the distance, reflected the movement of sweaty gray skin speeding toward them. Zack swung his AR15, acquired from the store’s inventory, its fixed light revealing screamers to everyone within its little spot light of visibility. They started shooting at the shadows; screams echoing through the store as if they just couldn’t be held back any longer. Adrenalin forced them beyond the pain caused from bullets or the fear of death. Aiming for where the shrieks came from, they heard the sounds of thick skull bones shattering with a hollow thump like a ripe melon being smashed with a large stick. They couldn’t see the blood, brains and other viscera spraying out from the backs of the advancing screamers, they simply shot for where the screeches came out of the dark.
They stopped firing. Zack was startled when Roger stepped beside him and pushed him out of the way as he shot at the floor where Zack had stood. A screamer had managed to crawl close enough to become a threat to Zack even though it had multiple bullet wounds.
More screams as another group of infected rushed from the opposite direction. As one they turned and fired towards the shrieks as the city fire’s light did not reach that far into the building. All they knew was where their partners were, with the exception of Sam, who stood with a semi-automatic Remington 30/30 by the window with his back against the wall watching the pathway towards the roof exit. He thought he heard or felt something down the opposite aisle but he couldn’t be sure.
Janine stepped behind the group and switched out her mag while moving to the opposite side of the shooters. A screamer broke from the darkness right where Janine had been, grabbing Roger and throwing him to the side. Elise, whose rifle was empty, pulled out a revolver and shot it in the knee before she even finished raising her gun.
The screamer jumped back to its feet, his face a mask of hate and rage, until Roger rearranged it with a massive cleaving swing from behind. Zack dropped his empty rifle and drew his side arm with his left hand and a plunger in his right. He kept the pistol in his weak hand, knowing that he wasn’t good enough with it to be firing unless they were right on top of him. He held the plunger as if it were his greatest hope instead of being his last one and only a piece of wood.
Sam brought his rifle tight to his shoulder as he struggled to see down the dark aisle towards the roof hatch. He fired a couple of rounds and was sure that he saw something like a shadow move behind some shelving. Elise screamed as one jumped up and out of the darkness, coming down hard on her and knocking her to the ground. Sam turned and fired off three shots into the attacking screamer standing him up high as Roger stepped in and put a 9mm round through its temple, his rifle also empty. Before Sam could return his attention to the roof access, a silent screamer lunged out of the darkness and latched on to Janine with his teeth and claws. Janine screamed with agony, dropping her weapon so she could pound her fists into the thing that had latched on to her upper arm.
Sam, who had developed a mental picture of his wife’s location so he could point directly towards her blindfolded anytime, found himself at a disadvantage and facing the wrong direction. Janine’s head was first to come into his sights. He could barely make out her nappy hair and dark skin in the gloom so he pulled his aim more to the right. The creature’s head was behind her body but he thought that he could make out a leg and hip poking out as the screamer tried to wrestle Janine back into the gloom. However, it was having a hard time as the woman fought viciously back. He pulled the trigger three times, trying to hit the femoral artery. Gasping in horror, he saw the head jerk back and forth trying to rip out a chunk of her flesh.
Instantly there was silence. Janine watched the light fade from its eyes as it slowly loosened its grip before sliding to the floor. Zack’s plunger dragged down the side of her body as it stuck partially out of the creature’s temple.
* * * *
When the sun finally broke the horizon, it reflected on five full kayaks heading across the sound though only three held people. The others were loaded with two .50 cal Barrett’s and a number of other rifles and rounds.
“Do you think she will make it?” Zack asked Roger, who had cleaned the wound and given her some antibiotics.
“I think so. She didn’t lose all that much blood. So, where to now?” Roger asked.
“Well, we need to find a ferry, then a well drilling rig, fencing, clothing, cattle…”
“Sounds like we will be the new world’s Walmart. Hey, I know where there’s a construction ferry that they keep a small crane on that’s in pretty good shape,” Roger stated as he and Zack walked back to the cube van that was still loaded with gear.
“Sounds good. We’ll also have to find more people if we’re going to be as big as Walmart and maybe clear another island,” Zack said with a smile.
It became easier to dream with every inch the sun rose into the sky.
John O'Brien is a former Air Force fighter instructor pilot who transitioned to Special Operations for the latter part of his career gathering his campaign ribbon for Desert Storm. Immediately following his military service, John became a firefighter/EMT with a local department. Along with becoming a firefighter, he fell into the Information Technology industry in corporate management. Currently, John is writing full-time on the series, A New World.
As a former marathon runner, John lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest and can now be found kayaking out in the waters of Puget Sound, mountain biking in the Capital Forest, hiking in the Olympic Peninsula, or pedaling his road bike along the many scenic roads.
