Apex Predator (20 page)

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Authors: Glyn Gardner

BOOK: Apex Predator
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The three GI’s surprised her too.  She figured they’d be like peas in a pod.  But, the leader and the skinny black kid seem to be real chummy.  She thought they were alright.  Hell, she thought, it was the leader that saved her and Simon from those two inbred retards.

The third guy seemed to be an outsider.  She was uncomfortable around him too.  He just looked lost.  Well, he looked angry too.  I wonder if that’s how I look to these people, she thought.

Then there was the girl.  Kerry didn’t know what to think of her.  Something about her was odd.  She was nice enough, but something was off.  She saw the look on the girl’s face when Jimmy and his brother were shot.  She was sure the girl was smiling.  While the rest of the group showed a mixture of horror and shock.  This teenager only smiled, and it was an eerie smile.  It sent a shudder through her body.

Then her thoughts drifted to Simon.  Jesus, of all the people to be stuck with as the world ended.  They had worked together for about a year.  She was a year ahead in school.  She’d known back then that he had a crush on her.  When they started working together he thought he’d found his chance.  The problem was, the kid wouldn’t take no for an answer.  In fact, she had reported him to the store manager a couple of weeks ago.

Now she’s here under a bridge with a bunch of people she neither knows nor trusts, and her very own personal stalker.  Damn!  What a shitty new world, she thought.  The rain picked up.  She slid a little closer to the group as the rain drops encroached into her space.

“You think we’re ok to stay the night here?” ask SSgt Brown.

‘That’s what I was thinking,” replied the young trooper.  “We can get some rest, and get moving at first light.  I really don’t like moving at night.”

“I agree.  See if you can set up the emergency radio and one of those solar chargers.  If we’re gonna sit here, we may as well try to get some news or something.”

The young trooper rummaged through his pack and found the radio and the flexible solar panel.  He moved to the corner closest to the redhead.  He reached above his head and over the edge of the overpass, placing the solar panel on top of the concrete.  He then connected it to the radio that was sitting out of the rain.

He turned on the radio, and began trying the preset emergency channels.  He only found one station broadcasting, and it was the same recorded message that they had heard for the past few days.

“You wanna keep an ear on this for a while?” he asked the redhead.

“Sure,” she replied flatly.  “Whatever.”

Jackson just let it go.  The girl’s been through enough.  He crawled back to SSgt Brown.

“Nothing new,” he reported.  “I got the redhead listening for any changes.”

“Alright,” the NCO replied.  “Get something to eat and relax.  It looks like we might be here for a while.”  The rest of the night passed uneventfully.  The group could still hear sporadic small arms fire to the south and east of their overpass.  It was hard to tell how far away the firing was, due to the pounding of the rain.

 

 

Day 9

The Overpass

Simon woke early.  He didn’t sleep very well.  The concrete hurt his back and he was cold and wet.  He hated being cold and wet.  He’d never slept outside.  He’d never gone camping.  His father viewed such things as frivolous.  Weekends were better spent studying or performing some science project.  Even his summers were spent at a science camp through the local junior college.  Now here he was sleeping under a bridge like a common bum, dodging rain drops.  Even Kerry, the one person he knew, wouldn’t talk to him.

The rain had stopped sometime during the night.  Now the landscape was cloaked in a thick white blanket of fog.  He realized that he couldn’t see the road 15 feet below.  He looked at the others.  Mike was awake, ostensibly keeping watch.  Everyone else was asleep.  How could they sleep so well?  Oh well, he didn’t care.

He needed to relieve himself, but where?  He surely couldn’t do it here.  There were too many girls around.  He thought about the road.  No, he could just see himself slipping and sliding down the concrete into the gaping maw of some zombie.  Up he decided.  He could climb up and pee on the top of the overpass.

He stood up and walked past Mike.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to pee,” replied the young Asian boy.

“Take a pistol with you,” Mike whispered.  Simon’s mind was already thinking about the pee he was going to take.  He didn’t hear Mike’s warning.

He almost slipped down the embankment when his foot hit the wet concrete.  He almost slipped again when he stepped onto the wet grass.  He finally made it to the top.  He hopped the guard rail and walked a few yards up the road.   Finding the right spot, he unzipped his pants and did his business.  Wow, he thought, this is the best pee ever.

Then he heard it, the scraping sound.  He couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from.  He turned his head left and right.  Still, he couldn’t get a fix on the sound.  One thing was certain, it was growing louder.  No, No, No!

The group!  He knew that was his key to safety.  He turned around.  No!  He couldn’t see the guard rail.  He couldn’t tell where he’d come over the side.  He started to walk towards where the side should be.  How could he have been so dumb?  How could he get lost in ten yards?

The scraping sound was getting louder and more distinct.  The sound was actually several things scraping on concrete.  Oh this is bad, he thought.  Where the hell is the bridge?  There!  He could see the guard rail.  He ran the last few steps toward it.  He looked over the side right before he leaped over it.  He pulled up short.  He couldn’t see the embankment.  He should be able to see grass or something.

“Pssst,” he heard from his left.  Looking, he could see Mike’s head and right arm.  Mike was waving him on.

“C’mon.”  The young Asian ran to Mike, and hopped the guard rail.  The two retreated under the overpass.

“Next time just piss here.  I count at least four zombies up there.”  Mike frowned and shook his head.  “You didn’t even have the sense to take a gun.  You’d better find a buddy and stick with them or your gonna get killed quick”

The reprimand stung Simon more than Mike would ever know.  He prided himself on his brains.  He was used to being smarter than most of the people he knew.  Now, he was out of his element.  He didn’t know anything about the outdoors or what someone might call field craft.  He barely knew which end the bullets came out of the gun that was sitting four feet away.

He crawled to his stuff without uttering another sound, unzipped his back pack, and popped the top on a soda.  Tsshhh!  At least he could still have some caffeine.  He thought about what Mike had said, tears rolling down his cheeks.  How was he going to survive?  He was going to die.  He didn’t know anything he needed to know about surviving in this environment.  He was going to die if he didn’t find someone to teach him how to stay alive.

But, who would teach him?  The big Sergeant?  No, he was the leadership of this little group.  How about the black kid or maybe that guy in the flight suit?  Maybe, but he wasn’t sure.  Then he thought about the big black guy.  He seemed like he could handle himself.  Maybe he would help.  He decided to talk to him when everyone was awake.

Simon realized at this point the sound from above him had changed.  He no longer heard the scraping of feet.  He heard moans of several zombies.  They seemed to be directly over his head.  Ok, Simon, you’re safe here.  They can’t get to you.  Hell, you could barely get here without falling.  As if on cue, a zombie tumbled over the side of the overpass and rolled down the embankment.

Maria let out a scream as the zombie rolled past her.  The rest of the group woke at this point.  Several others screamed when they heard the moaning.

“Queit down,” barked SSgt Brown.  “They can’t get to us, so just tighten up and keep it quiet.”  They screaming stopped.  Everyone in the groups slid just a little farther under the overpass.  The sound of moaning was now coming from both above and below the group.  None of them could see the zombies due to the fog though.

“How many do you count?” SSgt Brown whispered to Jackson.

“It sounds like about six above us, and maybe four down on the road,” replied the young scout.

“Shit,” he whispered.  “I only saw one go over the side.  Where did the others come from?”  Another zombie from the overpass rolled past them.

“Everyone just stay still,” the big NCO whispered to the group.  “They can’t see us, but they can obviously hear us.  Let’s see if we can wait them out.”

For the next three hours, nobody moved.  Willie’s butt was killing him.  He needed to move off of this hard concrete.  Even if it was just a little.  He shifted his weight.  The sound of his pants scraping on the concrete seemed louder than it should.  Shit! He thought.  We are so screwed.  Several other members of the group were getting restless also.  He could hear cloths scraping across concrete, and someone was unzipping a backpack.

Simon had never been so scared.  He never knew he could be afraid of the entire outside and claustrophobic at the same time.  He could feel the panic welling up inside.  He just knew that the fog was going to burn off, and they were going to be face to face with a hoard of zombies.

Why wasn’t anyone doing anything?  Why weren’t the soldiers killing these things?  He knew he couldn’t stay there.  He had to move.  He had to do something.

Without warning, he crawled to the edge of the embankment, grabbing someone’s baseball bat as he went by.  He could clearly hear the zombies above him moaning.  He charged up the side of the embankment and began swinging the bat wildly at anything he could see.

He connected with the torso of one zombie as it turned towards him.  It reached for him.  Panicked, he shoved the end of the bat into its face knocking it off balance.  It fell over the side.

He turned to the right and swung down on the head of the next zombie he saw.  The monster’s head made a wet crunching sound as it collapsed to the concrete.  He turned in a circle, looking for a new target.  He could no longer hear the moans over the sound of his own breathing.  Was that it he wondered?

Suddenly, a hand seized his hair from behind.  He screamed as he tried to turn on the unseen attacker, but an arm quickly wrapped itself around his neck.  He could feel the cold emanating from the attacker’s arm.  He struggled to free himself from the attacker’s icy grip.  Another hand grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in the opposite direction.

Several more hands began clawing at his flesh.  He could feel the fingernails scrape across his face, legs and stomach.  He continued to swing the bad in a feeble attempt to inflict some damage to the monsters.   Finally the first bite came.  It came to his left shoulder.  He screamed again.  The second bite was from the zombie that had him in the headlock.  It came to his right ear.  The pain was excruciating.  He tried to twist out of the zombie’s grip.  This only served to sever his right ear.

He pushed backwards with his legs, still trying to connect with the baseball bat.  He felt himself falling backwards.   He screamed again.  The fall was longer than expected.  He tumbled several times as he rolled down the embankment.  He was sure he could hear Kerry scream his name as he fell.  He and his assailants, who had not released their grips, hit the bottom.  He landed on his left shoulder, slamming his head into the concrete.  He was mercifully knocked senseless as the zombies literally ripped him to shreds.

The rest of the group was horrified.  Mike couldn’t believe the kid had done something so stupid.  He watched helplessly as the young Asian boy charged up the embankment.  He could hear the moans of the zombies grow louder, as if the monsters were more excited by the appearance of new prey.

“Ok, get your shit and follow me,” barked SSgt Brown.  Everyone but Mike and Kerry grabbed their backpacks and began moving.  Jen looked over her shoulder as they began moving south.

“Mike!” she yelled.  Mike turned towards the sound of his wife’s voice.  He began moving, but the young redhead didn’t.  Shit, thought Jen, what’s her name?  “Hey!”  She still didn’t move.

“Mike, get her!”  He turned, and saw why Jen was so panicked.  He reached out and grabbed the young girl by the back of the shirt.  She still didn’t move.  She just continued to stare down the concrete embankment into the foggy abyss.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he hissed at her.  She still refused to respond.  Fuck it, he thought.  He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her towards the rest of the group.  He looked over his shoulder.  Jen was just beginning to climb the embankment on the other side of the bridge.

“We’re coming,” he shouted.  “C’mon lady, help me out here.”  As he pulled her across the top of the embankment his right foot slipped.  His butt hit the concrete, the girl landing on top of him.  The duo began sliding down the embankment.  Kerry screamed.

They hit the bottom with a thud, Mike’s rifle clattering several feet away.  Mike jumped to his feet and rushed bent over in an attempt to retrieve their only means of defense.  As he scooped up the rifle, he could hear the sound of the zombies feeding on Simon.

He turned towards the young redhead.  She was sitting at the base of the embankment with her face in her hands, audibly crying.  Mike quickly kneeled next to the young girl.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he quietly whispered.  “We have to go now.”

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