The Survivor Chronicles (Book 2): The Divide (14 page)

"Wait for what?" John demanded.

"I want to know if it's going to rise back up. We have to know what we're dealing with here," Lee said.

"John," Riley hissed and nodded past him.

Carl was loathe to tear his eyes away from the corpse on the ground, but more than Riley had caught his attention. His gaze was drawn to the other room; his breath froze in his chest as lightning lit the people moving within it. One of them, a young girl perhaps Rochelle's age, had walked into the wall, but instead of turning away from it she simply just remained there. All she needed was a dunce cap and Carl would have believed someone had just placed her in a time out.

He stepped carefully around the body and cautiously approached the other room. He held his hand out to Lee, and took the gun with more bullets in it in exchange for his. He crept carefully to the other room and leaned cautiously out to grab the door that he hadn't had a chance to close on the dead man. A few of the people looked at him, but they didn't seem to see him, didn't seem to recognize him as a human as they continued mindlessly around the room.

Carl shook his head and closed the door against the herd. He slid the flimsy bolt lock into place. "What the… I don't…" He had to take a deep breath and calm himself in order to get words out. "What is
wrong
with these people?"

"Rabies," John asserted.

Carl dropped his head into his hand and shook it. He didn't have words for that one either. "He may not be completely off," Al stated.

Carl didn't bother to take his head out of his hand as he turned it to look at Al. "Are you serious?"

Al removed his arm from around Rochelle's shoulders and warily approached the lifeless body on the floor. "How are your ears?"

"Ringing like church bells, but I'll survive," Carl told him.

Al nodded as he stepped beside the body and carefully moved around it. "I'm not a doctor or anything, and I'm not going to pretend to have a firm grasp on what's going on, but this could be something like rabies. It could be some kind of virus or bacteria that attacks the brain and alters the behavior of the people that it affects. It would explain the unreasonable anger, and the strange disassociation some of them seem to be going through."

"Are you saying we're all going to end up like them?" Rochelle squeaked.

Al shook his head; his eyes were haunted as they briefly met Carl's. "No," Al answered, though Carl read the apprehension in the man's gaze. "No, that's not what I'm saying. We don't know how they contracted this, or even
if
they contracted this."

"But if it is airborne?" Lee pressed.

"You're jumping the gun," Al told him. "Rabies is most commonly transmitted through a bite."

"But this isn't rabies, I think we can all agree on that," Lee insisted. "I've never heard of a case of rabies causing that kind of rash or making someone's nose look like it's going to fall off. If this is some disease…"

"Over the years there have been many types of diseases and plagues," Al interrupted sternly. "And there have been many people that have survived them; otherwise there would be no human race. The people that survived were either because they had a natural immunity, or because they were able to fight it off. I would suggest that until one of us starts breaking out in a rash, or wandering aimlessly around, we remain calm and try to get out of here."

"He's right," Carl said. He lifted the bag of supplies and began to dig through it for some more bullets. "We don't know what caused this."

"But it's definitely something that affects the brain," John said. "Like rabies."

"Or syphilis, or mad cow disease," Al pointed out.

"Oh so this is a rabies/syphilis/mad cow craptastic bag of fun," John muttered as he shook his head and walked away from the motionless body still lying on the floor.

"Syphilis is sexually transmitted though, and mad cow is thought to be caused by a prion, which is a misfolded protein, not a virus or bacteria." They all turned to look at Rochelle as she was illuminated by the endless flashes.

"How the hell do you know that?" John demanded.

Rochelle shrugged. "I told you, I'm advanced for my age. Plus I paid attention in biology."

John shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Who had the time for that?"

"Ok, wait a second. Rochelle's right and there's been evidence that prion's can live in the clay or soil after an animal has decayed by binding to the clay and other minerals. They can also be transmitted that way, and not just through the ingestion of contaminated meat, like mad cow," Riley said as she tugged at her hair.

"There are also some people that believe global warming may release a new host of viruses that have been trapped within the earth, and the ice, for thousands of years. There are even some that believe that one of those ancient viruses could be the reason for the increase in autism," Lee said.

"You're right," Riley agreed.

"So what you're saying is that when the earth split open and unleashed its torrent of fun and goodies today, it also released some new kind of virus or bacteria or prion that is just kicking around out there having a grand old time with people's brains," John said. "Awesome, freaking spectacular. Just when you think it can't get much worse we now have to worry about some super virus possibly infecting us."

John turned away and paced to the other side of the room before coming back toward them. "I suppose we're stuck with this guy's body now too."

"I'm not touching it," Lee told him.

Rochelle approached hesitantly from the shadows. "Syphilis does cause sores and irrational behavior if it goes untreated, but it takes awhile to manifest," she muttered as she moved around his body.

"It's a little disturbing how much you know about that," Carl told her.

She offered a tremulous smile. "Sex Ed."

"Well at least they're teaching you the important stuff," he muttered.

"Mutated syphilis," Riley suggested. "Or even mutated rabies or mad cow. There's no way of knowing what it is without a laboratory, and someone with a whole lot more experience than any of us have with this stuff."

Carl leaned back against the door and studied the unmoving chest of the man that he had just killed. He hated the idea of staying in here with the body, but it didn't seem as if they were going to have a choice. "Whatever it is it definitely reacts in different areas of the brain. Some it makes as useless as zombies, and others it seems to drive into madness and rage. It's also fast acting and fast moving. I think if any of us have contracted it we will know by morning," Al said.

Carl glanced around the room and the people he had come to rely on in such a short amount of time. People that had made sacrifices for him, killed for him, and had his back when he'd needed them most. People that were now looking around the room with the same realization he had already come to dawning in their eyes. By morning, one or more of them, may have to be put down. Much like a rabid dog.

CHAPTER 11

Xander

Plainville, Mass.

Xander's mouth dropped, his hand lingered on the door handle as all those vacant eyes swung toward the car. Josh's hand tightened around his arm as he made some sort of noise that Xander had never heard before. A lump formed in Xander's throat, what was wrong their faces? He couldn't tell if they had chicken pox or a severe case of leprosy. He was so busy trying to figure it out that he hadn't seen the figure ambling out of the crowd until he crashed into the side of the car.

Shrill screams and shouts filled the car and he wasn't ashamed by the fact that one of them was his. Josh was practically on his lap as they gawked at the hideous face of what had once been a man, but now appeared to be more monster than human. He hit his palm against the passenger side window as he sniffed at it like it was an apple pie sitting on the windowsill to cool.

Xander didn't plan on being that pie. Mary Ellen released Molly and shoved her back as she scrambled over the backseat to the space that Allie had vacated. The thing's eyes turned toward her as the motion caught his attention. She froze, her eyes were as round as golf balls as her hand hung in the act of reaching for the open door.

The sight of that door spurred Xander into motion. He wasn't going to sit here and be eaten by these things, or ruthlessly torn apart by them. "Hold on!" Xander shouted and hoped that Bobby and Peter heard him. He didn't feel like killing his best friend today, or breaking his legs. "Get the door."

Mary Ellen lunged forward and snagged hold of the handle as the man lurched at the doorway. Molly screamed again as the door slammed shut and Mary Ellen fumbled with the lock switch. Xander shifted into reverse and slammed on the gas. The tires spun on the pavement, smoke filled the air, and the scent of burning rubber permeated the luxury car. For a split second he didn't think the tires would catch and they would sit there and burn rubber as the thing continued to beat on the car.

Then the car heaved awkwardly backward with a loud squeal that at any other time he would have thoroughly enjoyed. Right now though all he cared about was keeping the car on the road. The trunk blocked his rearview mirror so he had to use the side mirrors the best he could as he navigated in a swerving motion down the street.

He jumped and almost slammed on the brakes as the trunk suddenly shut. His heart dropped, it took a disconcerting second for him to register the fact that Peter and Bobby had locked themselves in the trunk. He would have laughed out loud if it wasn't all so awful. With the trunk down he was able to get a better view of the road as he draped his arm over the seat and turned sideways to watch the road.

Mary Ellen was leaning against her door to get as far out of his way as possible, but Molly seemed to be frozen in shock. Xander navigated the car around a corner and hit the brakes. Something, or someone, crashed against the backseat, and then loud bangs echoed through the car as someone beat against the seats.

"Can you get those seats down?" Xander demanded.

"No time," Josh said frantically.

"What?" Xander asked. The kid grabbed hold of his arm and jerked it off the backseat. Xander almost yelled at him but the kid pointed ahead of the car. The entire world seemed to blur before him as his mind strained to register what his eyes were seeing.

There were thousands of them, or perhaps only hundreds, but it seemed like thousands as he stared at the people filtering through the streets. A woman pushed and shoved her way to the forefront, she looked more disgruntled than frightened as she elbowed her way past the last of the horde. She stared at the people like they were crazy, and Xander gave her credit for braving them in the first place. As he watched one of the ones that he was pretty certain had some kind of bizarre leprosy also emerged from the group. The woman didn't see him until he grabbed hold of her and brought her to the ground.

Xander started to make a move to help her, but even as the thought crossed his mind he knew it was already too late. Though she screamed and gave a feeble fight, she was quickly silenced beneath the ferocious blows she was dealt. Josh's mouth was gaping as he leaned forward to stare out the windshield. Xander's hand clenched on the wheel, he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from the atrocity before him. The freakoid, as Xander now thought of him, didn't eat or tear into the flesh like Xander had been expecting, but pummeled and beat at the woman as if she were a punching bag that he was determined to tear open.

Then, he did tear her open.

Xander's stomach somersaulted. Like a fire whistle going off, Molly began to release a series of shrieks that not only nearly pierced Xander's eardrums, but drew the attention of the mob across from them.

Mary Ellen slammed her hand over the young girl's mouth, and although her palm muffled the sounds, they didn't silence her completely. "Shh, hush, shh Molly you have to stop. Shh!" she urged.

"Shut up!" Josh shouted. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"Not helping," Xander told him. "Not helping
at all
!"

His eyes were drawn back toward the mayhem and blood before him, his heart pounded as the man that had so brutally ripped the woman apart now focused upon them. "We have to go," Josh said. "We have to go now."

Josh hadn't had to repeat himself; Xander had every intention of getting out of there. Turning back around in his seat, Xander met Mary Ellen's dark brown eyes. She was an attractive woman with her perfect complexion broken only by the freckles on her broad boned face. Her mahogany colored hair was a mess as it straggled around her face and shoulders.

Molly was still screaming against her hand but the two in the trunk had gone silent as Xander hit the gas again. He heard them bounce against something, but this time there was no disapproving pounding on the backseat. There was only a strange silence that somehow managed to bother him even more than the fact that he was doing thirty in reverse, in an attempt to avoid the craziest people he'd ever had the misfortune of encountering.

He turned the car onto another side road and threw it into drive. Squealing back out of the road, the car fishtailed as he was finally able to drive forward again. He knew he should be cautious, knew he should take it easy on the demolished roads, but it was getting darker out, and the last thing he wanted was to be trapped in this town, after dark, with those
things
.

"Xander," Mary Ellen breathed when they hit a hole with enough force to send the car airborne for a few feet. His jaw clenched, his heart hammered, but he somehow managed to force himself to ease off the gas pedal enough not to destroy the car and everyone else in his urgency.

"Where are we going?" Josh asked.

Xander opened his mouth to answer, but he didn't have one. There was nothing he could say because he didn't know where they were going right now. Sturbridge yes, but they had to be somewhere else when night completely fell. Otherwise he didn't know what would happen to them.

"I don't know."

"Our families?"

Xander shook his head. "I don't think many families exist anymore."