Contamination: Dead Instinct (Contamination Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Series) (13 page)

"Keep moving!" Isaac screamed.

They continued, dodging several sets of hands. Many of the creatures were still at the front of the building, giving Isaac and Kate a head start. Most had yet to make their way around.

Isaac focused on the distant cars, hoping one of them had keys.

Beside him, Kate stumbled, and he reached out and grabbed her wrist, keeping her on her feet. She was still clutching the knife she'd found. He could sense the creatures in their peripheral vision—a mound of flesh that was increasing in size and density, as if the horde were a single entity that had fused itself together.
 

That was the way the entire week had felt. It was as if the whole world had ganged up on him, threatening to pull him under. Everything around him seemed strange and uncertain, as if he were trapped between the realm of nightmares and the land of the living.

Isaac just wanted it all to be over. To be safe again.

They dashed to the row of cars, and he groped at the door handles. The first several were locked. He made his way down the row, passing a Civic, then a Taurus, then a Chevy. Finally he found an open door, and he tore at the handle, ducking inside. It was a Chrysler, and the keys were in it.

"In here!" he yelled.

He jabbed the unlock button, and Kate hopped into the passenger's seat. The creatures were almost on top of them. Isaac turned the key, listening to the engine rev up. Then he slammed the door and put the vehicle into drive.
 
The path in front of them was clear. Thank God.
 

The car bounded forward, and he watched a mound of creatures in the rearview slam into the trunk, rocking the vehicle. He increased his speed, shaking off several clinging arms that still clung to the bumper.
 

The remainder of the parking lot was deserted, but the asphalt behind them was littered with infected. There had to be several hundred near the restaurant, if Isaac had to guess. He shuddered at what had almost happened.

Trapped inside, they'd almost become meals for the things.

Kate was breathing heavily, and he could hear himself gasping for air, too. Twice they'd had to flee on foot, and twice they'd escaped. He didn't think they'd get that lucky again.

At the end of the parking lot, he turned out onto the main road.

He kept an even speed as he drove down the street. Wreckage and rubble lined the pavement; bodies were strewn in gutters and on sidewalks. But there was no sign of the creatures. It was as if the infected had all congregated behind them, allowing them free reign of the city.

Even so, he knew the quiet wouldn't last.
 

 
He turned his attention back to Kate. Although he knew her name, he didn't know much else about her. Kate tucked her long dark hair behind her ears, perusing the streets with terror-stricken eyes. Even in her panicked condition, she was an attractive girl. Isaac pegged her at about twenty-five years old.

"Are you from Phoenix?" he asked.

"Yep. I just moved here a month ago," she said.

"I'm new as well. I've only been here six months."

"What a welcome, huh?"

"Tell me about it."

The girl sighed, and he could sense sadness in her voice, the sound of someone who was still coming to grips with all she'd lost. Isaac knew the feeling well.

"Were you alone when this happened?"
 

"I was with my sister, but she was infected."
 

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

Isaac fell silent. He could tell the girl needed a minute. Kate drew a deep sigh before recounting her tale.

"My sister's name was Clara. We moved here a month ago, hoping to start over. A few months ago, my sister was laid off from her insurance job in Connecticut, and she desperately needed some new scenery. I'd just graduated college, so I told her I'd move to Phoenix with her. We'd always been close," Kate said.
 

She paused and wiped her eyes.
 

"A few weeks ago, we got an apartment. We hadn't even found jobs. And then this whole thing started, and Clara...well, she turned. I tried locking her in her room, thinking there might be a cure for this thing, but she broke out and came after me. I had to hide in my closet. She banged on the door for almost an hour. I thought she was going to break it down. Finally she left, and I haven't seen her since. I was hoping to find her out here..." Kate lowered her head.

Isaac nodded sympathetically. "My roommate turned as well. He attacked me, and I barely made it out of my apartment alive."

He relayed the story to Kate, and she listened intently. While he spoke, he took several more turns, putting more distance between them and the scene at the restaurant.

"Do you have any relatives or friends in the area, Kate?"

"No one close by. Everyone I know is on the East Coast."

"I don't either." Isaac paused. "Listen, I'm thinking we should get out of the city. There has to be help somewhere. I don't think we'll last much longer if we stay."

Kate was silent for a moment, and he could see hesitation in her eyes.

"Where would we go?"

"My parents live in Oklahoma. I was thinking of maybe getting on the highway, heading east, maybe finding someone who can help us. Then maybe we can get ahold of your family."

"Do you think the highways will be safe?"

Isaac glanced out the windows. A few creatures had wandered out of a nearby building, and they stopped and stared.

"I'm sure it can't be much worse than here."

Although they'd made the decision to leave, Isaac and Kate were still a considerable distance from the interstate.
 

Isaac navigated the streets with unease. The infected had appeared again, creeping in corners and lurking in alleyways. Driving the Chrysler felt like operating a bullhorn—wherever they went, heads turned and the infected scrambled in their direction.

Over the first few days, he'd seen several people try to escape in vehicles, and the outcome had never been good. Usually they ended up stuck or overtaken. At one time, he'd considered taking his own car, but before he could make the decision, someone had hot-wired it and driven off.
 

Of course, that'd been days ago.

He hoped things had changed since then.
 

Perhaps with less traffic and fewer moving bodies, they'd be able to make their way through with better success. Although the streets were cluttered, they weren't impassable, and he had faith they could complete the journey.
 

Isaac weaved between the abandoned vehicles, swerving to avoid scattered bodies. For the past few months, he'd marveled at how clean the city was, how well maintained the buildings were. It hadn't taken long for everything to go to shit.

He wondered how and when the city would ever be restored.

Would things ever go back to normal?
Could
they, after this?

His thoughts drifted to his parents. For the first time in days, Isaac was finally making progress to reach them. Ever since the infection had hit, he'd prayed they were still alive, that somehow their area had been unaffected. They were in Oklahoma, after all—a thousand miles away. There was a good chance things hadn't progressed there yet, and even if they had, maybe his parents had gotten out in time.

The fact that they were so far away gave him a sense of relief, but it also gave him a sense of guilt for leaving. It was hard to believe he'd been gone for six months.

His parents had been sad to see him leave, but they'd supported his decision. Isaac had seen how difficult other parents could be—controlling their kids with money or guilt or expectation. But his parents had never been like that. Ken and Roberta had always encouraged him to follow his own passions, and for that he'd always been grateful.
 

Whenever he'd hit a stumbling block, they'd been there to provide meaningful support and advice, and they'd never condemned his decisions.
 

By all accounts, he was lucky to have them.

As Isaac approached the next intersection, he wiped his eyes. He'd get back to them, no matter what it took. He approached the next turn, fighting the urge to put on his turn signal. These days, flashing lights were a way to get oneself killed rather than an example of good driving.
 

"Which way are you going?" Kate piped up from the backseat.

"Selden to Main," Isaac replied, tracing the route in his head.

"I know a better way. If you take a right, we can cut through Arcadia. There'll be fewer cars there. No one ever uses it. Or at least, they didn't used to."

"OK. Just let me know when."

Isaac glided down the main road, watching for the street Kate had suggested. When he saw it, he took the turn. As described, the road was narrow, but uncluttered. There were a few piles of overturned trash and rubbish, but no bodies, and no infected in the vicinity that he could see.
 

"Good call, Kate," Isaac said.

"This is how I managed to stay alive for the past few days. I tried to think of the least-populated areas, and I tried to hide where no one was looking," she replied. "The fewer people there are, the fewer infected there are likely to be."

"That's smart. How did you know about this street?"

"Me and my sister used to cut through here on our way to the grocery store. We took a lot of walks together. It was a great way to learn the city."

"That must've been nice."

Kate nodded. "I miss her. More than anything."

Isaac nodded and focused on the road, trying to keep watch several blocks ahead. By his estimation, the highway was only a few more minutes away. They were getting closer. Would the interstate be clogged? Would it be impassable? He tried to dismiss the thoughts that plagued him, keeping his attention on the drive.

They'd find out soon enough.

He could already see the next intersection. He looked over to Kate, ready to ask for directions. But instead of paying attention to the street, her eyes were glued to the side of the road.

"Oh my God," she whispered.
 

"What is it?"

"Stop the car!"

Startled, Isaac hit the brakes. The Chrysler ground to a halt. He turned to see what she was looking at. They'd stopped at the base of an alleyway leading between two buildings, and she was pointing directly down the center, where one of the infected was ambling toward them.

"What is it, Kate? We need to keep going!"

He let his foot off the brake, ready to keep moving, but she clutched his arm.
 

"We can't!"

"Why?" he asked.

"That's my sister! That's Clara!"

The infected girl swayed left and right in the alley, her arms slack, her mouth dangling open. Her blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt, her clothes ripped and torn. When she spotted Isaac and Kate, she scrambled in the direction of the vehicle.

"There's nothing we can do. We need to go!" Isaac repeated.

But Kate wasn't listening. Before Isaac could stop her, she'd thrown open the door and was darting for her sister.

The interstate into Phoenix was comprised of six lanes, and almost all of them were clogged with dead-stop traffic. If Ken hadn't known better, he would've likened the scene to rush hour in New York City, or an exodus from a World Series baseball game.

He'd never witnessed either, but he could imagine the frenzy.

He surveyed the license plates. Many were from New Mexico and Arizona, but there were a few from farther away. He recognized several from Oklahoma, and the sight filled him with both nostalgia and foreboding.
 

Almost all of the cars—including those from his home state—were filled with half-eaten bodies.

The farther along he drove, the more tightly compacted the vehicles became, and soon he was barely making progress. He scouted his path, moving along one car length at a time, engaged in a life-sized puzzle. Having been able to drive for most of the day, he was fearful that he'd have to abandon his station wagon, leaving most of his acquired possessions behind.

There was no way he could carry all of it.
 

He continued forward, squeezing between cars and making the best of his situation, until finally he hit an impasse. Frustrated, Ken parked the vehicle and stared out the front windshield. By the looks of it, he was on the outskirts of the city—he could see a cluster of buildings in the distance, even though he couldn't get to them.
 

He canvassed the cars around him, staring extra hard at the bodies inside. Ever since he'd entered the city limits, he'd been looking for a single face among them, even though he was hesitant to admit it. The pit in his stomach was hard and tight and tangible, as though his nerves had taken on a life of their own, intent on usurping his body.

He glanced at the vehicles on either side of him.

To his left was a female sitting in the passenger's seat of a hatchback, her face half-gone, her hair ripped out and ragged. To his right was a package delivery worker in a cargo van, his brown outfit stained with blood and grime.