The Truth is Contagious (The Contagium Series Book 4) (15 page)

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Authors: Emily Goodwin

Tags: #undead, #dystopian, #paranormal romance, #paranormal, #zombie, #romance, #living dead, #walking dead, #apocalypse, #survival

BOOK: The Truth is Contagious (The Contagium Series Book 4)
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“I love you, too,” I whispered and closed my
eyes. It only took a few minutes for me to fall asleep.

I woke up several hours later and was
uncomfortably hot from being snuggled next to Hayden and under a
thick comforter. I wasn’t going to move away from my Marine, so I
kicked the comforter down and exposed my arms to the cool air.

I wiggled closer to Hayden. Even in sleep, he
held me tight. I could feel his chest rising and falling with each
breath. Just the sound of him breathing was comforting. I held onto
his arms and never wanted a night to go by without Hayden being
with me.

 

* * *

 

For the next few days, the crazy in the
basement was the talk of the compound. It was odd, hearing the
residents gossip about one lonely crazy with such fear. They had no
idea what we had encountered at the theme park or what we
encountered on any of our missions. And Hayden wanted to keep it
that way. There was no reason to ignite terror in everyone, he had
said more than once during the meetings.

The story of how the crazy burst through the
hospital ward doors, running full speed at me, twisted and grew
each time it was retold like a game of Chinese telephone. In the
end, it was made out to sound like I single handedly took out a
giant, super-strong maniac who came at me snarling and swinging
with dagger like fingernails and very sharp teeth. It was far from
the truth. But I could live with that.

Alex and his group had left three days ago,
the day after we came back from Dogpatch. And then things went back
to normal. I went to training every morning just like before. It
took a lot of convincing—verbally and physically—to get Hayden to
change the time and allow us to sleep in an extra hour and a
half.

Since Hayden was busy going over the
unofficial policies Fuller had written up with Hector, I decided to
go outside and have a look at the cabins. The construction had been
put on a halt while we were waging a battle on Eastmoore and just
recently resumed.

The brick estate was surrounded by tall chain
link fences and ditches had been dug on the outside of these
fences. I blinked in the sun and scanned my eyes over our defenses.
I remembered when I first arrived here; the place looked utterly
normal and abandoned. Even the solar panels and the huge wind mills
didn’t give it away. It was normal for businesses and large houses
to switch to natural sources of energy. The price of fuel had risen
to a fucking ridiculous price prior to the zombies.

Now it was quite obvious that this old brick
estate housed survivors. Still, I doubted anyone would suspect that
the house was just a rouse for what laid beneath. I crossed the
yard, stopping at a large pen. Almost every dog raced over when
they heard the metal latch clinking open. I wedged in, holding up
my hands at the jumping dogs. Once the initial excitement was over,
only one remained by me, wagging his nub of a tail.

“Hey buddy,” I said to Argos and sat on the
trampled grass. The Doberman pushed his face against my chest. I
wrapped my arms around him in a hug. “I missed you, boy. Want to go
for a walk?”

His ears perked up at the sound of the word.
I stood, slipping my hands through his collar. I picked up a
slobbery tennis ball and threw it. The pack of dogs took off after
it, giving Argos and I enough time to slip through the gate.

Happy to be free from the pen and the other
dogs, Argos took off, racing away from me and out of sight. It
wasn’t anything unusual. The dog always came back. And we were
still surrounded by fences. Still…it unnerved me to have him out of
my sight. I went around the house. The cabins were located in what
would have been the backyard. The grass around the construction
sites had been hacked away with electric weed whackers. We weren’t
going to waste gas mowing.

Extension cords snaked through the yard,
coming from the side of the compound. A few A3s stood guard,
holding rifles and looking bored. They snapped their attention up
when they saw me, straightening their shoulders and taking a proper
grip on their weapons.

“Hello, Orissa,” a teenage boy said to me. He
fiddled with the safety on his gun and smiled nervously.

“Hi,” I said, looking for his name tag.
Hayden could rest easy knowing he wasn’t the only one who didn’t
know anyone’s name…though it wasn’t as if I had taken the time to
try and learn. His badge was flipped around. Damn it. “How’s it
going?” I asked just to be polite.

“Oh good,” he said, his brown eyes glued to
mine. “They’re almost done with the first one.”

I took a step away and nodded. There were
bases for six structures. They were small; the cabins would only
have the basic necessities and how to install running water was
still being worked out.

Raeya had gone over the designs with me
plenty of times and promised they would look modern and clean, not
old fashioned and dark like I imagined. The cabins had an open
floor plan: the kitchen, living room, and dining room were all one
large open room. If a bathroom could be added, it would be in the
back. The sleeping quarters were in the second story loft. The
ladder could be removed in case of a zombie attack, safely stowing
away whoever hid inside. Or at least that was the plan.

I ducked under a hanging cord and stepped
into the first cabin. The walls and floor were plywood, which took
away any feelings of this place being a real home. There was a spot
for one window next to the front door. Eventually, it would be
barred. I walked to the kitchen, happy to see the counters and
stainless steel sink. There was a spot for a stove and a
refrigerator. Maybe Raeya was right after all. With a little decor
and furniture, these little cabins would be totally livable.

The smell of freshly cut wood filled the air
and dust particles floated in front of me, made visible by the
streaming sunlight. I slowly turned, taking in the insulation that
poked out around the door. I had hoped Hayden and I would move out
here, though now I wasn’t sure. With his new job, it wouldn’t make
sense for him to leave the compound.

I chatted with the construction workers for
as long as I could stand. I used training as an excuse to leave
again and wandered around the yard looking for Argos. Assuming he
had gone back to the pen with the other dogs, I wasn’t too
worried.

I tipped my head up to the sun, wishing for
the day when I could spread a towel out on the sand and relax with
a drink in my hand. The beach Raeya and I had gone to in our youth
was nothing more than a manmade sandbar dumped around a lake. But
we had spent many summers there, and each one was as enjoyable as
the last.

I closed my eyes, letting my guard down, and
rolled my neck. Along with a beach I wanted a massage. I was
getting a little tired of being constantly sore, though this time
it was my fault for lifting more than I should have while working
out that morning.

A soft breeze blew the loose strands of hair
that had fallen out of my braid. I tipped my head up, enjoying the
day. The distant sound of barking floated around the house. I
should have brought a ball. Maybe Argos would have stayed near me
to play. I went around the back of the house to find him.

A strangled yell came from the quarantine
barn. My heart skipped a beat and my blood ran cold. The crazy
erupted in gargling growls that twisted into manic laughter.

And then Argos yelped, the pitiful sound
echoing through the narrow halls of the barn.

Chapter 8

 

I raced through the yard. The tall grass
painfully whipped at my thighs as I ran. I didn’t slow down until I
was in the quarantine barn. I blinked, unable to see in the dim
hall.

“Argos!” I shouted as my eyes tried to
adjust. I squeezed them shut and shook my head, as if that would
help somehow. The crazies at the end of the barn thumped against
the stall doors, screeching and growling.

And I heard Argos whimper.

I opened my eyes, desperately scanning the
aisle. I didn’t see the dog. Oh God, had he somehow been pulled
into the stall? I flew to the end of the barn, and slid to a stop.
The young crazy in the homey stall reached through the bars.
Electricity sizzled as it shocked her, and the scent of charred
skin filled the air.

“Argos,” I called again. My stomach
tightened. I was scared to look in the stall but I didn’t hesitate.
If he was in there, I might still have a chance to get him out, to
save him.

But he wasn’t there. I pushed my hands off
the wooden stall and moved to the next one. The crazy was at the
front, snarling. His eyes were gray and clouded over. He was
changing as the virus progressed. I didn’t have time to think about
it. I had to find Argos.

He yelped and barked again. I jerked my head
to the side, looking out the door at the end of the barn. Terror
rippled down my spine when I realized that the fence was only yards
away. I spun and raced out of the barn.

“Shit,” I breathed when I caught sight of the
black and tan dog. He was against the fence. Literally. One of his
paws was through the links and a zombie had a hold of it. She was
standing in the moat and her face was level to the ground. Blood
dripped down Argos’s fur and the zombie bit down harder.

I didn’t have any weapons. My heart pounded.
I was there, right next to Argos, in just seconds. I wrapped my
hand around his leg, hands shaking. I didn’t know what to do. If I
pulled, the flesh would rip right off his leg. Argos squirmed
back.

“Hold on, boy,” I panted. Without thinking, I
stuck my hand through the fence and grabbed the zombie by the hair.
Her tresses were slimy and coated my hand with goo in seconds. But
I didn’t let go. I curled my fingers, dug my nails into her scalp,
and pulled.

She let go of Argos. He scrambled back,
holding his right leg up in the air. The zombie turned faster than
I expected. I yanked my arm back and my hand caught in the link. I
needed to close my fist and tuck my thumb in to fit it through.

The zombie closed her fingers around my hand.
Argos bolted forward, fiercely barking at the zombie. I rocked back
and put my feet against the fence. She tugged on my hand, trying to
pull it to her mouth. Though she was undead, she was strong, and
being several feet lower than me gave her an advantage.

“Let go, you undead bitch,” I muttered
through clenched teeth. Her nails scraped off a layer of skin.
Suddenly she stopped pulling me toward her and moved her face
closer, bringing her teeth to my skin. Argos lunged at the fence,
his nose bumping into the metal. The zombie turned her attention to
him.

That was all I needed. I pressed my foot
against the fence and pushed off. My hand, slick with blood,
slipped from her grasp. I fell back and landed on the ground.
Shaking, I sat up. My hand throbbed, but that didn’t matter.

“Argos,” I said weakly. He was still barking
at the zombie. “Argos!” His fur was on end. He kept his right leg
tucked close to his body, unable to put weight on it but he was
still barking, still showing his fangs and growling. He would
protect me to the very end.

I moved over to him, slipping my fingers
under his collar. I pulled him back. He snapped his attention away
from the zombie, sniffing me. Then he licked my face, his cropped
tail wagging.

I wrapped my arms around him, trembling.
“Good dog,” I whispered and let out a breath. The zombie rattled
the fence. I held onto Argos for another few seconds before getting
up. I kept a hold of his collar and jogged into the quarantine
barn. I needed something—anything—that could be used to kill the
zombie. My eyes darted around, settling on a broom.

Hunched over to keep a grip on Argos, and we
scurried down the aisle. I grabbed the broom and ran back to the
fence.

“Sit,” I told Argos. His fur rose when he got
sight of the zombie but he listened. I knelt on the ground, lining
the handle of the broom up with the zombie’s mouth. The blunt end
made it difficult to kill her. But luckily she had started to rot
from the inside out and after only a few shoves, the handle popped
through the back of her throat and into her brain. She instantly
went limp and slid down.

“What. The. Fuck,” I said slowly. I pulled
the broom backwards and out of the fence. I tossed it aside and
looked down inside the moat. It was deep, too deep for her to be at
ground level. Either she was freakishly tall or…

“There’s a body pile,” I said out loud and
looked at Argos. Three bodies were piled on top of each other like
a festering step stool. The ground at the base of the fence had
been clawed at. A shiver ran down my spine. The zombie was digging
under
the fence. I leaned back, taking it all in. I blinked
and jumped to my feet. “Shit, Argos.”

He was still holding his leg up. A steady
stream of blood trickled down from the flap of fur and skin that
hung lose above his ankle. I turned to the house; it was too far
for him to walk. I bent over, wrapping my arms around his body, and
gently picked him up.

“Shhh, it’s ok,” I soothed when he balked at
being held. “It’s ok, boy.” I ground my teeth. Argos was gonna be
ok…he had to be. Guilt bubbled in my stomach. I shouldn’t have let
him wander off. I should have kept a better eye on him.

Argos was heavy. I was in excellent shape,
but my arms were tired by the time we got to the house. I put my
leg up, balancing Argos against my knee as I punched in the
code.

“Get Jack!” I called to the A3 who stood
guard inside the foyer. “Now!” I tried to keep my voice steady. I
failed. My jean shorts were wet from Argos’s blood. He had stopped
struggling to be put down. My heart was sinking and the guilt was
rising. Argos had to be ok. He just had to.

The A3 looked at us, wide eyed. “What the
fuck are you waiting for?” I yelled, my fear slipping through.
“Open the goddamn door and get Jack!”

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