Dead World (Book 1): Dead Come Home (9 page)

“Let me in … please,” he begged, breathing heavily.

Lily unlocked the door and he screamed “GO!” as he threw himself into the cluttered passenger seat. She jammed the truck in reverse and stomped on the gas. They heard the sharp thud of the truck slamming into something and felt the heavy jolt of the truck running over something thick. Lily didn’t know or care what she hit. She slammed the truck into drive and bolted off. The young man turned in the seat to see what she had hit.

“You’re bleeding all over the place. There’s a towel on the floor behind my seat. Wrap it around your arm and keep pressure on it until I can take care of it.”

He found the towel and wrapped it around his heavily bleeding arm. He tied the towel off as tightly as he could with his free hand and teeth. His arm taken care of, he hit the magazine release on his semi-automatic pistol. Lily looked over and recognized the gun as a 9mm. Her older brother used to own one just like it. He shrugged out of his backpack, reached into it, and pulled out a box of rounds. He fed six more into the clip and pushed it back home with a satisfying click.

Lily noticed the road suddenly seemed considerably livelier. People were running in all directions. There were fights in front yards, in cars, and in the middle of the street. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar figure — the mediocre guitarist from yesterday. He had the splintered remains of his guitar slung over his shoulder and was attacking a teenager.

Lily drove faster.

Her new passenger didn’t complain about her driving or even suggest they stop. They were out of the city limits and past the big wreck before either of them said a word.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. Another couple of minutes and I’d have been screwed,” he said. “I’m Brian.”

“Brian, I’m Lily. Now tell me what the fucking hell just happened.”

“The news is saying it’s some kind of riot. My insane neighbor said it was an attempted revolution or some other kind of bullshit. He’s road kill,” Brian said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “But every accident victim declared DOA, every person the police shot…everybody that should have been fucking dead, stood up and started moving. They attacked everyone. Police and the military showed up last night and opened fire on anyone in the streets … After that, it got bloody. Every normal person they shot center mast got back up a few minutes later and came after the rest of us. The only ones that stayed down were hit in the head.

“My own brother and his daughter attacked me in my own house. Goddamn they were strong. I don’t think pain even registers with these things. I managed to get away and found a couple dead cops in the street, so I took their guns and ammo. I broke into a pawnshop and took another handgun and all the boxes of bullets I could stuff into a backpack. That was last night.

“I spent the night in the pawnshop with the gate locked. At dawn, I came out and the street was crawling with those things. I went into that house because it was quiet. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. The first one to come at me in the house was pretty fucked up. Looked like something gnawed on him and left the parts it didn’t like. By the time I shoved a knife through its head, three more appeared. The rest you pretty well know.”

Lily steered towards the mill again. The truck bounced along the path too quickly to be completely safe. She didn’t stop the truck until after the second bend where she was certain they would be out of sight from the main road.

“Come on,” Lily said, turning off the engine and getting out of the truck. Brian stumbled out with his gun drawn. His breathing had become labored and raspy. Lily pulled the well-stocked first aid kit out of her toolbox and walked over to the stream.

Brian staggered his way over to Lily, eyeing everything around him. It looked like he felt uncomfortable so far, really it was less than 100 feet, from their transportation … and shelter.

“I’m not so sure stopping here is a good idea,” he said.

“I just saved your life, and you’re arguing about where I choose to take you? We need to get you cleaned up, and from what you said, the hospitals won’t be any safer than the streets,” Lily yelled, nearly throwing the med-kit on the ground. “Shut up, get over here, and let me take a look at that.”

She untied the towel. The gaping hole in his arm bled profusely; she hissed and winced as she dropped the towel. She had hoped she had been imagining that the thing had taken a large chunk out of Brian’s arm. Seeing it, the wound was larger and deeper than she had given credit. She shoved his arm into the cold water. Brian barely seemed to notice; he was still scanning the surrounding woods, holding the nine-mill in a death grip.

“This is going to sting,” Lily said after she pulled Brian’s arm out of the water. She tipped a bottle of Peroxide over the wound. Brian winced but didn’t move his arm. Lily bandaged Brian’s arm like her daddy taught her. He flexed his wrist to make sure it wasn’t tied too tightly.

“Come on … there is a safe place a little farther up the road. We can figure out what we are going to do next,” Lily said, cramming everything back into her first-aid kit.

“What? No,” Brian stammered. “We’ve gotta get the hell away from here.”

“And where do you propose we go?” Lily asked, already walking back to the truck. Brian remained silent. “That’s what I thought. Get in the truck.”

* * *

Lily and Brian stood over the desk looking at a AAA road map book. The best plan they had come up with was to head to the nearest small town, find a hotel, and get more information.

Lily slapped the map shut and carried it back to the truck. She looked at Brian again. She had seen printer paper that wasn’t as white as his face had become. Despite the bandage, the wound kept bleeding. She tied the second bandage as tightly as she could without making it a tourniquet. Brian had developed a fever and was now drenched in cold sweat. She didn’t want him falling asleep, not yet anyway.

“Brian, didn’t you say you picked up more than one gun?” Lily asked.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, as though drugged. “The others are in my pack.”

Lily pulled Brian’s pack from the passenger side across the center console and into the driver’s seat. She flipped the top of the knapsack open and fished out a 9mm Beretta from the bottom of the pack. She pulled the slide back just far enough to see brass, making sure there was a round in the chamber. The dim bronze glint was oddly reassuring.

“If we are going to wait here ‘til morning, you may as well turn on the radio for a bit,” Brian said with a shiver in his voice.

Lily looked over her shoulder at Brian. He had his head down, wrapping a blanket tightly around his shoulders as he rocked back and forth slightly. She turned the ignition back. The radio crackled to life with the hiss of an empty broadcast. She hit the seek button.

Three silent radio stations later, she found one still broadcasting.

This is a recorded message. This radio station and several others have been evacuated. If at all possible, listeners are advised by state and federal authorities to make their way to designated rescue stations set up throughout all major cities. Seattle and the surrounding communities have several rescue stations set up at designated locations. Please stay tuned as a list of these stations will follow. The National Guard has secured these places for the evacuation of citizens to safer areas. Medical help is available for the injured. Do not attempt to barricade yourself into any building. Law enforcement officials are encouraging people to use heavy vehicles that are hard to roll over and proceed immediately to the nearest rescue station.

“Looks like it’s the end of the world as we know it,” Brian said, half-chuckling to himself. “Ugh, I feel like shit.”

Lily watched Brian stagger a few feet from the desk and double over, vomiting. He straightened up too quickly, stumbled back, and dropped down onto the stump. He braced his arms on his legs, shivered, and slumped forward.

“Brian … you ok?” Lily asked, turning to him. Brian didn’t act as though he’d heard her. She thumbed the safety on her pistol, tightening her grip as she stepped closer. “Brian?” She stepped close enough to reach out and check his pulse. His skin was cold and slick with sweat.

Lily gasped sharply. He had no pulse. The blanket slid from his shoulders as he fell onto his side. Lily backed away from the lifeless heap as it hit the ground.

This wasn’t the first time she had seen a dead person. Working as a search and rescue volunteer, she had found her share of sun-cooked hikers who strayed too far from the marked path. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near the body. Part of her screamed to get in the truck and get away.

Get away from here, away from cities … get the hell away from people.

He rolled slowly to his hands and knees, raising his head with a moan. He looked at her with frighteningly empty eyes. His look was like that of the blood-drenched man who’d left half of his head on the side of her truck. Lily’s heart plunged through the pit of her stomach. Brian scrambled to his feet like a predator, hurling himself towards her with inhuman swiftness. He growled from the back of his throat, clawing his way to an upright stride, covering most of the twenty feet between them in the span of only a few racing heartbeats.

Lily’s shooting hand came up instinctively. She squeezed the trigger twice without realizing it. The first round blasted away his lower jaw. The second round tore through his left eye and blew out the back of his head. Brian pitched forward.

‘
The only ones that stayed down were hit in the head.’

He won’t get back up this time.

Lily looked at the corpse at her feet that had once been a young man named Brian. She draped part of the blanket over what was left of his head. The second bandage she had wrapped around the bite was completely drenched with blood. She had never formally studied medicine, but she wanted to know what the bite looked like now. The responsible voice in the back of her mind kept her from unwrapping the bloody bandages with her bare hands.

Lily pulled the first-aid kit back out and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. She held the limp arm with one hand and unrolled the bandage with the other. The top layer came off without too much difficulty. The original bandage stuck together with drying blood. She pulled harder and, by fractions of a turn, unwrapped the original bandage.

She knew the bite was deep and had chanced infection without stitches. But she wasn’t prepared for it when she saw the edges of the wound turning black after less than eight hours.

Whatever was in that bite must have killed him … bacteria or some kind of a virus maybe … maybe he just bled out … but somehow he wasn’t completely dead. The bite has to be the source of the infection. That explains the fever and sickness … What the FUCK makes a person with no heartbeat move? It’s like something jump-started him.

She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and called home. She barely noticed her trembling hands. She had to warn her family.

“Lily, baby, is that you?”

“Yes, Daddy it’s me. And I’m so scared. What is going on out there?”

“Sweetie listen to me, okay, the cities aren’t safe. The government’s declared martial law, and it isn’t even coming close to helping. Don’t go anywhere near those rescue stations they’re talking about on the radio. Come home as fast as you possibly can. The highways are a mess, so you’re going to have to use the back roads and byways. Don’t speed, but don’t stop for anything if you can help it. Come home now, Lily-flower. I’d come to get you myself if there was any way in the world.”

“Daddy, watch out for anybody that’s been bitten.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This guy had to kill a handful of the rioters before we got out of town. One of them bit him, took a chunk out of his arm. He bled like a stuck pig. He died from it. Not five minutes later he attacked me—“

“What?! He attacked you? I’ll—“

“I shot him!” Lily briefly lost her composure. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Their eyes are scary, empty, like they aren’t even people anymore. Anyone who’s bitten comes back with empty eyes. They attack anyone in sight. The only way they stay down is if you hit them in the head … and hit them hard. Daddy, I’m scared.”

“I know baby. Just try to calm down and drive home. I’ll spread the word. You just get home, now. Check in every few hours if you can. The cell phones might start going down soon, so I’ll try not to worry if you stop calling.”

“I’ll leave first thing in the morning. I should be safe here ‘till then. I should be home in a few days. I’ll call as often as I can.”

“Good idea, sweetheart. Driving at night is just going to draw the wrong kind of attention. We love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. Tell Mom I love her and try to get her not to worry.”

Lily hung up and slid the phone into her back pocket. She pulled the gun out of the front of Brian’s pants and put it on the “desk.” She wrapped his body in the blanket and pulled it into the mill. She pulled the blanket-draped body all the way into what had once been an office, probably the mill foreman’s. She pulled the door closed on her way out.

Lily put Brian’s gun in her pack with the other one, along with all the spare ammo. She grabbed her sleeping bag and flashlight and walked back over to the tree stump desk.