The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (23 page)

6

She wanted to cry but didn't. There was no gravestone or even a marker. Just a mound of loose dirt in the back corner of the campsite. It was surrounded by a dozen other graves. A dozen more needless deaths in Concordia's little game. Sam buried her fingers into the cool dirt and wondered when it would all stop. With Cole's death? With hers? Ever? She hadn't started this war, but would she be the one to end it? Or would she end up in her own unmarked grave somewhere along the way. The questions ran through her mind as she kneaded the earth between her fingers.

Cole stood somberly behind her, and to his left, Sawyer said what sounded like a hushed prayer. Their host had ordered the doctor's lab results to be brought to them immediately, as well as firing off a bevy of other commands, as they departed for the gravesite. In her peripherals, she could see the two doctors approaching them from the distance. Sam whispered a goodbye to the teenage refuge and stood.

"Captain," Sawyer said and cleared his throat, "this is Dr. Etter and Dr. Alvarez. They were the ones that examined Alex."

Sam turned and faced the two men. One of them was a tall, heavy-set man with curly gray hair. He held a piece of paper in between his long pale fingers. Sawyer identified him as Dr. Etter. The other, a squat frog-faced man, sported a long black ponytail and wrung his hands nervously.

"Tell me what happened." Sam said as she pulled Sawyer's pistol from the waistband of her sweats. She wrapped her finger around the trigger, but kept it aimed at the ground. "And if you skip any details, you'll be dead before you hit the ground."

The shorter doctor spoke, "We hooked the girl—"

"Alex," Sam interrupted and raised the pistol in his direction. "Show some respect."

"S-s-sorry," the short doctor stammered. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and continued. "W-W-We tried…we tried…"

"We hooked Alex up to a saline drip," the taller doctor said, taking over the conversation, "and drew a few vials of her blood to test for traces of the RIZ-4 virus. Results came back normal except…"

"Except what?"

"Except she had an elevated hCG level of approximately 150,000; a level you would expect to see in a woman during the end of her first trimester." The tall doctor extended the printout to Sam, but she didn't take it. After a moment, the doctor lowered the paper and continued. "We asked Alex about her sexual history, and after hearing about her encounters in Lost Angel determined that a vaginal examination was necessary. The exam confirmed our diagnosis, and we informed her about the pregnancy."

"And then?" Sam asked as she lowered the pistol, dreading to hear the rest.

"And then the patient—" the short doctor began.

Sam covered the short distance between them with two quick steps and swung. The barrel of the pistol smashed into Dr. Alvarez's face, opening a deep gash above his eye. He stumbled backward and as he did Sam swung again. This time the metal connected with the top of his scalp and the doctor crashed into the ground. "Her name is Alex!" Sam screamed. "Do you fucking understand?"

The doctor made no indication that he did or did not understand, and instead twitched on the ground. Sam was vaguely aware of Sawyer approaching from her rear and spun on him, aiming the sight of the Beretta right between his eyes. He stopped in his tracks and held both of his hands up in surrender.

"We are not enemies," Sawyer said.

"We are today," Sam answered.

Two men emerged in the distance, but Sam kept the pistol aimed at Sawyer. They approached quickly at first but slowed when they realized the severity of the situation. One of them called out, "We've got a jeep gassed and loaded, Captain."

Sam cringed at the title. She wasn't sure of Sawyer's rank but she was sure that the soldier had been talking to her. What if they really were on her side? What if they could have helped her beyond the supplies? It didn't matter now. "Cole, are you ready to head east?"

"Yes," Cole said. But the tone in his voice said otherwise.

"Then let's go."

Sawyer led the group back to the front of the encampment as the moon dipped lower in the sky. It would be sunrise soon. Sam never took her aim off of his backside, and kept her senses attuned in case someone jumped out from the shadows to stop them. No one did though, and they made it safely back to the front of the walled city where the jeep and a small cluster of soldiers waited for them. A small mountain of canvas towered above the rear of the jeep, and Sam's heart ached.

"Keys are in the ignition," one of the men said as they approached, "and the tank is full."

"Thank you, Baker," Sawyer said dismissively.

They paused at the rear of the vehicle and Sam lowered her pistol for the first time since leaving the gravesite. There was a long awkward silence that was finally broken by the city gates rattling open.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Sawyer said. "I can still wake you up. Fry the chip in your brain. You would stay if you could see the big picture."

"No, I wouldn't," Sam whispered and then turned toward the jeep. She took a couple steps before Sawyer spoke again.

"We can't do this without you, Albright." Desperation filled Sawyer's voice "You go out there and get yourself killed…then we're all doomed. Every single person outside their walls is counting on you."

Sam stopped, but didn't turn back. "I can't help you."

She opened the passenger side door and heard a bark. Artie bolted out of the darkness of the camp, sprinted past the soldiers that had gathered around the vehicle and then hopped into the front seat. Sam had forgotten about Artie, but as she stared into the dog's dark eyes, all she could think about was how hard Alex had fallen for the little pup. She nudged it over, climbed into the jeep, and then shut the door. In the rearview mirror, Cole shook Sawyer's hand and words were exchanged. A moment later, the driver's side door opened and Cole climbed in.

"Dual tank," Cole said as he turned the key. "We've got a good chance to make it through Utah if the roads aren't too bad." The engine sputtered once and then roared to life.

"Do you want to stay?" Sam asked.

Cole grabbed ahold of the shifter but paused. "Yes."

Pain shot through Sam's heart and she struggled to find the right words to convince him not to stay. She didn't want to do this by herself. She needed him more than she had ever said. Cole spoke again before she had time to think of an argument to make him stay.

"But I reckon I need to see the end of all this," Cole said and shifted the jeep into drive.

Sam let out a sigh of relief. She didn't know whether to feel guilty or happy as she slouched down in the jeep's seat. Cole pressed on the accelerator and nosed the jeep out of the complex. Sam watched as Sawyer and his soldiers turned to small blurs in the rearview and then disappeared into the darkness.

7

They drove for almost nine hours before the engine sputtered to a stop. Sam had dozed on and off for the first few hours of the voyage, but each time the nightmares of the burning city had grabbed ahold of her mind. Finally, she invited Artie to ride up front with her. It had curled up in her lap, but now its head was cocked as the vehicle coasted down the road.

They slowed to a stop before Cole shifted into park. They stared ahead silently for a long time. A mountainous landscape lined the horizon, blocking their path to the eastern side of the country. Artie's tail thumped against Sam's leg and he sniffed wildly at the cool air.

"Do you know where we are?" Sam asked.

Cole stroked his beard and looked upon the world. "Colorado. That's the Rockies in front of us."

"How many miles are we from Concordia?"

"A thousand if I had to guess."

She cringed at the answer and opened the passenger door. The thought of a two-month hike was nauseating. Artie jumped down and relieved himself on a nearby tree.

"Should we try to find some gas around here?" Cole asked. "This was a main highway once. Should be a service station around here somewhere."

Sam walked to the rear of the vehicle and unzipped one of the bags. It contained two pairs of military fatigues, five pairs of knit socks, a pair of leather boots, two hatchets, an old road map, and a first-aid kit. Sam shook her head at the sight of the gear. Sawyer had really been on their side. Why else would he have sent such precious resources with them?

"Miss Sam?"

"No," Sam said, moving onto the next bag.

"There's gotta be something in between here and Concordia. How else would the blood trucks make it back and forth?"

The next bag contained nothing but boxes of MRE's. Dozens of them just like the ones from New Hope that she and Jordan had shared. She remembered how stale the crackers were and how they couldn't figure out how to cook the enchiladas. The thought brought a smile to her face and an emptiness to her soul.

"Looked like there was a town about a half-mile back. I can check it out if you'd like."

"Be quick," Sam said. "We can't afford to waste any time. If you don't find anything then if we come across one in the next few days, we'll turn around. Right now, we need to divvy this gear up into two bags and figure out how we're going to carry it all." She opened the third bag and her heart leapt. Inside were an Atchisson Assault Shotgun, two MAC-10 submachine guns, two Glock 19's, and a dozen boxes of ammo. "Because we are not leaving this behind."

Cole scouted the nearby city while Sam prepped the gear. In total, there were five bags. The fourth bag was packed with more clothes, these much bigger in size and obviously meant for Cole, and the last bag contained a half-dozen canteens, all full of water, a metal spile, an awl, a rubber mallet, and a cloth rag wrapped around something. Sam took the object from the sack and unraveled it. The remote control was inside and a chill ran up Sam's spine.

Cole returned a couple hours later with two rusted shopping carts and an empty plastic jug. The carts' bodies were a hardened plastic and made to withstand a lot of weight. A wide smile found Sam's face as she checked them out. "These are perfect, Cole."

"I checked a couple of stations around town, but tanks were all dry."

"Figures." Sam shrugged as she tested out one of the carts. The wheels wobbled and groaned, but when she heaved one of the heavy bags into it, it held the weight with ease.

Cole grabbed the empty jug from his cart and then got down on the ground. The giant managed to wedge himself under the front of the jeep and Artie hopped around his feet as if he was uncomfortable with the situation. Cole grunted a few times and a moment later he said, "Ha!" When he emerged from the undercarriage, the jug was half full with pitch-black oil. He graciously got to his feet and then knelt by the cart. Cole poured a liberal amount on each of the wheels, on each of the cart, leaving small inky puddles on the faded asphalt.

Sam stripped off her socks and shoes and rubbed an antiseptic on her feet that she found in the first-aid kit. She bandaged them as well as she could and then slipped on a double layer of socks and then the boots. Cole did the same and then they each pulled out a weapon and loaded the bags into the carts.

"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked as she strapped the M-16 across her chest.

Cole nodded and holstered one of the Glocks.

They set off east as the sun climbed down the sky behind them. It was cooler than the desert, but they still made plenty of stops to hydrate. They walked into the night and finally made camp when the moon had reached the apex of the night sky. They had covered close to thirty miles. Sam decided to take the first watch as Cole and Artie curled up beside a small fire. She found the L.A. doctor's journal in one of the bags and read as the wood crackled and smoke bellowed into the heavens.

They traveled like that for days on end. Walking 20 to 30 miles during the day and sleeping by firelight during the night. They hunted each morning after the ration of MREs ran out and caught small game that they could carry with them during the day. They filled their canteens with stream water or would tap sugar maples with the awl and spile. Artie would sometime walk alongside them, but sometimes would beg to ride in the cart. Each night, the small dog would crash down beside the fire and not move again until morning. Each morning they rose, and each day the road stretched out in front of them like a never-ending bad dream.

The infected they encountered along the way,
halfways
Alex called them,
zombies
Sawyer called them, were few in number. They would spot them, normally staggering alone in an open meadow or a small group huddled in the middle of the road. Sam would pick them off one by one with the MSR like she was born with the sniper rifle in her hand.

They walked for days and days; through ghost towns and stretches of nothingness. Sam's hair grew longer as did Cole's beard. Cole grew thinner and thinner as the weather grew colder and the hunting became scarce, but he never complained. There were days when Sam could walk 40 miles without breaking a sweat and some days where she could barely force herself to walk ten.

On the forty-fourth night of their travel, Cole took the first watch, and as he told Sam the tale of the night he knocked out Marcus Gilmore in the 14
th
round of a title fight, this was the only story he remembered from his past and he told it often, she fell asleep. And for the first time in over a month, she dreamed.

She stood in the center of the city, only it wasn't burning. Jordan stood facing her, a goofy grin on his face. "What are you grinning at?"

"It's almost over," Jordan said and his smile widened. "We'll be together soon."

Sam took a step forward as he enfolded her in his familiar arms. The tears welled in her eyes as his sweet aroma filled her nose. "Do you promise?"

"Yes. Do you promise to do what you need to when the moment presents itself?"

Sam thought about this for a moment and then asked, "What do you mean?"

"When the time comes, are you prepared to do whatever it takes to bring down the Flowers Corporation?"

"Yes."

"Even if it meant making the hardest decision of your life?"

Sam pulled away and offered him a smile. "I've lived without you for so long now. There's nothing that can be harder than that."

Jordan's smile faded. "There will be something."

"What?"

"You'll have to see for yourself."

"See what?" Sam asked.

"I'll show you," Jordan said and extended his hand. Sam took it and the two walked through the epicenter of the city. Through the epicenter of Concordia.

"Why isn't it burning?" Sam asked after a while.

"It isn't that time yet," Jordan said. "Don't you remember?"

"No," Sam said.

"It will come to you," Jordan said, "when the time is right. You'll remember everything. Even the flowers."

The two strolled past skyscrapers that she only remembered painted in flames. Seeing them now, in their normal state, was almost unsettling. They moved deeper into the heart of the city, and the buildings gave way to an open area. A park full of luscious green grass and trees sprawled in front of them.

"I've never seen this part of the city before," Sam said in amazement.

"Sam," Jordan said in a dark tone, "what I have to show you…it's going to upset you."

"Then why are you showing me?" Sam asked.

"Because you need to see it. You need to see it before it's too late. It's the only thing stopping you from reaching the city and you must deal with it before you get there."

"Does it have to do with the fire?" Sam asked.

"When the time is right, you'll remember, you'll remember everything about the fire. That's not why we're here. "

"Then why?" Sam asked.

Jordan looked around and then pointed in the distance toward the park. Sam followed his finger with her eyes and nearly screamed as she saw what he was pointing at. In the distance, bathed in the soft light of the moon and covered from head to toe, was a midnight runner. The creature screamed toward the night sky and as it turned toward them, Sam's heart bottomed out into her stomach. The beast had the body of a midnight runner, but its face was pale and distorted. It was the face of a boy. The face of David.

The monster, not paying them any attention, leaned down and lifted the carcass of a baby deer. It stared at the dead animal for a long time, David's bright blue eyes, the midnight runner's sharp teeth gleaming with moonlight, and then it ripped the head from the animal. It tossed the torso of the deer back down to the ground and then took a bite out of the deer's face. Sam gasped and the monster fixed its gaze on them.

"Do you see it, Sam?" Jordan asked.

"Yes," she said as her heart quickened in her chest. David's face was morphing in front of her eyes.

"Then really see it," Jordan commanded.

As if his words were real, Sam opened her eyes. She stood at the edge of the campsite and fifty yards away, standing at the edge of a stream, Cole Porter was doused in blood. He held a decapitated river rat over his mouth as bright crimson poured from its body.

"Oh my god," Sam whispered.

Cole's head jerked to the sound of her voice and Sam gasped. Cole's eyes were no longer green, but a poisonous yellow. He stared at her blankly before grunting and then lifting his head back to the body of the rat. He squeezed its torso tight and a mound of guts and organs squirted into his mouth. Sam took a step back and Artie padded over next to her. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end and the terrier bared his yellowed fangs.

Sam swallowed hard as she continued to watch the gruesome sight in absolute silence. This was not the man that had saved her from New Hope. This was not her friend. The monster that stood in place of the man she loved like a father, chewed feverishly, swallowed and then screamed at the moon.

"Cole?" Sam asked. The world spun around her and her voice echoed weak between her ears. The giant man turned to her and she watched in disbelief as the yellow eyes faded into his normal shade of green.

"Sam?" Cole asked, his voice trembling. "What's happening to me?"

Sam shook her head as tears streamed down her face. "Nothing, Cole." The tears broke into a sob, but after a moment, she managed to stifle them. "You were just sleep walking, that's all. You just need to get some sleep."

Sam led Cole back to the campsite and he fell fast asleep by the fire. Sam watched as he stirred restlessly in his sleep, her finger hovered over the trigger of the pistol but she couldn't make herself shoot him. The time was coming though. The dreaded time that she had fretted over for days. The time that had been gnawing at her soul like a dog chomping on a piece of meat. The time had come to kill Cole Porter.