The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned (4 page)

“Work your way to the side before we get
bowled over!” he screamed up at Kera, who was ungracefully slipping
down the slope like a cat on ice. They soon reached the bottom and
stumbled across the narrow embankment and out of the way of the
falling bodies. Gradually, the thuds and splashes of the flailing
Loonies ceased and Steven looked back up at the bridge and the
highway berm. The remaining Loonies meandered in a state of rage;
occasionally another would get knocked over the bridge and fall to
the embankment with a thud. Steven grabbed Kera’s chafed and
bleeding hand and dragged her away from the bridge abutments when
he saw several of the creatures that had slid down the embankment
picking themselves up.

“Let’s get out of here,” he hissed.

Kera glanced over her shoulder as more of the
Loonies stood up. “Oh shit!” she muttered.

Close to a dozen of the crazed creatures took
off after them, some dragging mangled legs or running with arms
hanging limply at their sides. A few growled, although most were
deadly silent. Up on the highway the swarm began to coalesce again
when it spotted the two humans running. They started spilling off
the pavement and down the steep embankment, some instinctively
controlling their slides while others tumbled out of control. Soon
the hillside looked like a living carpet with the horde of Loonies
swarming over it.

Kera glanced back over her shoulder again and
her face grew pale with terror. There were too many to count. Their
guns would be useless against those numbers. It was the largest
mass of Loonies she had ever seen and they were still pouring off
the roadway and down the slope in a cloud of billowing gray
dust.

“We’ve got to get across that railroad
bridge!” Steven yelled, guiding her along the narrow river
embankment as fast as they could force their feet to move through
the thick tangle of weeds that flourished so close to the water’s
edge. She saw the narrow steel trestle that crossed the lazy, brown
river a few hundred yards ahead of them. They would only have to
climb a ten foot berm to the tracks where the twin rails left the
riverbank. At the base of the highway bridge, the growing horde of
raving mad creatures was building to a breaking point and like a
boiler bursting at the seams, exploded down the riverbank blindly
following those that raced ahead of them. She could hear their
footfalls, growls, and mutterings as they gave chase; she dared not
look back again for fear of what she would see.

Their gear seemed to grow in weight, slowing
their pace while they sprinted the last few yards to the tracks and
raced up the berm to the rusting rails. They barely paused to look
back up the river at the snaking mass of Loonies, some of whom were
running on all fours like animals. The faster of the creatures were
only a few handfuls of yards behind them. They started across the
trestle, their feet dancing from one creosoted crosstie to the next
as they bounced along, trying not to misjudge and step into the
open space between the old oil-soaked wood. Beneath them the land
gave way to muddy brown water while behind them the first of the
Loonies crested the berm and took chase. Kera heard a sound behind
her like the snap of a twig when one of the creatures missed its
step and its leg slid between two ties, pitching it forward and
shattering the femur. Its keening cry of pain was soon smothered by
the pounding legs of those behind it crushed it into the tracks.
More and more of the creatures fell between the ties, some lodging
in up to their chests, and were immediately pressed through the
narrow gaps by those who followed behind them, peeling the flesh
from their bodies like skin from a vegetable.

Steven and Kera pranced over the wooden ties
to the approaching shoreline and expanded the gap between
themselves and the savage swarm of infected while the creatures
falling between the ties bogged down those behind them. However,
like an unstoppable tide, the horde rolled over those stuck beneath
them and thundered onward after the two humans.

The situation was looking desperate. The two
were now halfway across the train trestle with the first of the
Loonies less than fifty yards behind, leaping and jumping down the
track like pursuing lions. The difficulty some of the infected had
with traversing the railroad ties was Kera and Steven’s only
advantage to the Loonies’ adrenaline spiked speed. Up on the
highway bridge, a portion of the horde that had not made it down
the steep slope to the water was keeping pace with the couple
across the span, threatening to head them off when they reached the
shore.

“There!” Kera cried, out of breath. Steven’s
eyes followed where she was pointing with the barrel of her shotgun
to a decrepit-looking dinghy tied upside down to a sapling on the
riverbank a few yards south of the trestle. What might have once
been green paint on its wooden hull was faded and flaking in long
patches. Weeds grew up heavily around it, nearly obscuring it from
their view.

Up on the highway bridge the Loony horde had
reached the end of the span and was pouring off the roadway and
down the hillside toward them, moving like one monstrous organism.
They would soon be literally surrounded by the creatures. Then
Steven saw him again, the calm Loony from before. This time, it was
walking slowly along the overpass with its eyes locked on the
couple. Steven again experienced that cold fear in the pit of his
stomach. He tore his eyes away to keep from miss-stepping on the
trestle.

Steven reached the end of the train trestle
first and launched himself off the edge onto the weed-choked
western riverbank, glancing briefly over his shoulder to make sure
Kera was right behind him. He saw several of the Loonies veering
off the trestle into the water trying to make a beeline toward
them. He swiftly sprinted along the bank and reached the side of
the little vessel and without pause, reached down and effortlessly
flipped it onto its keel. Kera already had her sheath knife pulled
and with a quick swipe, severed the rotting yellow polypropylene
rope that had secured the dilapidated boat. It was barely large
enough to hold both of them and their gear.

They each grabbed a gunnel and hastily
carried the boat to the edge of the river and tossed it in. Steven
held the transom while Kera scrambled into it, almost toppling
overboard when the boat wobbled unsteadily beneath her. Steven
promptly climbed in, using one leg to shove the vessel away from
the shoreline barely ahead of the leading Loonies as the horde
reached the end of the trestle and scrambled crazily toward them. A
tall black Loony, wearing only a torn, dirty tee shirt, launched
itself off the bank like a cat springing on a mouse. It slammed
into the water behind them, its hands clawing onto the transom, and
pulling the back of the boat underwater briefly as it tried to
climb aboard. Without checking their stride, the rest of the
creatures crashed into the water behind the boat while even more
poured off the trestle both into the water and onto the shore.

Without hesitation, Steven reached behind him
and with a quick, fluid motion withdrew the katana and in a broad,
sweeping arc severed both arms near the elbow from the babbling
creature. It howled as blood shot like a fountain from its severed
limbs and it slid swiftly below the muddy water, cutting its howl
short in a gurgling of bubbles. Steven gingerly pried the hands
from the back of the boat and tossed them onto the water. He
dropped the katana into the hull which already had several inches
of river water in it and turned to Kera.

“Use your hands and paddle!” he screamed at
her as the Loonies continued to pile into the water only feet from
their stern. Frantically, they dug their hands into the water and
paddled the boat away from the shoreline. Neither one of them dared
to look back at the water that was writhing with the masses of the
once-human creatures. Some were instinctively dog paddling to keep
their mouths above the water, while others tried to clamor atop
their brethren to keep from drowning. Guttural screams of rage
overwhelmed the couples’ ears while the targets of the creatures’
wrath slipped away from their killing grasp.

When the boat reached the middle of the river
the current started carrying them downstream away from the mass of
struggling creatures and they were finally able to relax and look
back at the fearful sight. Hundreds of heads bobbed in the water
behind them. The water foamed with the thrashing of arms and legs
trying to keep bodies afloat. Hundreds of corpses of those who had
lost the battle with the water also cluttered the surface like
water-soaked logs. A mist rose from the water into the chilly
morning air, forming a thin layer of fog above the river, adding an
even more sinister aspect to an already gruesome scene.

Steven glanced up at the distant overpass,
however, he could no longer see the lone infected man in the ragged
pajama top and dismissed it from his mind. Maybe it only had been
sick or injured and couldn’t give chase.

What looked like thousands of the Loonies
meandered on the shore while a few in the front began pacing the
boat while it lazily drifted downstream. Then, as if controlled by
some invisible hand, the entire horde swarmed along the thickly
weeded bank, following the boat as it drifted in the current. Up
ahead, the river curved sharply to the left where it cut deeply
into the side of a mountain. A wall of grayish-brown rock soared
from the water line up several hundred feet, forming an
impenetrable barrier that continued until it disappeared from sight
around the river’s bend. Steven knew that once beyond that bend
they would be safe from the horde of monsters.

“We’re safe for now.” He picked up his katana
and stuck the blade in the river to remove the blood before
returning it to its sheath.

Kera nodded in return, staring back up the
river with wide eyes at the horror behind them.

“They don’t care,” she muttered.

“What?” Steven asked, watching the swarm of
Loonies along the bank, moving like a flock of birds would move
through the sky; a murderous ballet of motion.

“The Loonies, they don’t care if they die.
They don’t try to avoid anything dangerous or painful.” She was
quiet for a few moments, deep in thought. “They’re less than
animals.”

Steven stared back through the mist as the
swarm came up against the cliff and bounced around without any
direction. The rage seemed to blow out of them like steam from an
engine after they lost sight of their prey.

Yes
, Steven thought to himself,
but
what
are
they
?

Water was seeping in through the dry-rotted
floorboards of the small vessel, adding to the water that had
already flooded in when the Loony had tried to board. It soaked
through their pant legs while they knelt, chilled in the late
October air, watching the Loonies on the shore disappear while the
boat rounded the bend. The riverbank appeared again up ahead where
its course straightened out between two mountain ridges. A dead
Loony bobbed and floated face-up several yards behind them, the
expression on its face frozen in a rictus of incoherent rage; blood
still staining its teeth. More and more of the dead creatures
silently floated past them on the misty surface, caught in the
river’s gentle current.

Steven tore his eyes away from the macabre
sight. “Let’s head for shore,” he said.

He bent over the side and, paddling with his
hands, propelled them toward the muddy bank of the western shore.
Without a word Kera followed suit, letting out a startled grunt
when her hand brushed against one of countless half-naked bodies
floating by. The silence of the river was nerve-wracking after the
tumultuous racket from the horde of Loonies only minutes ago. When
the two had lost sight of the swarm around the bend, the growls and
mutterings faded away. The only sound now was the gentle lapping of
water against the hull and their hands splashing the cold surface
of the water as they determinedly paddled for the shore.

Soon the prow of the dinghy bumped softly
against the muddy, weed-choked riverbank. Steven slung his rifle
over his shoulder and sprang out, tugging the nose of the boat
further up on dry ground. When they were both ashore they collapsed
in a heap on the moist loam, their arms wrapped tightly around each
other.

“That was too close.” Kera whispered, feeling
drained after the adrenaline dump from their flight.

“Yeah it was,” Steven agreed. “Their behavior
is evolving. Did you notice how when they’re in a large group like
that they move in a coordinated motion, like a school of fish?”

“All I noticed was that they came damn near
to tearing my ass apart.”

“That would be a waste of such a fine piece
of ass,” Steven said with a half-smile.

Kera pushed him away playfully. “You would
miss me,” she stated seriously.

Steven nodded. “Yeah, I would.” He stood up
and hauled her to her feet. “So let’s not put your ass in a sling
anymore, okay?”

She smiled slyly. “Sounds like a plan to me.
So where to now, lover?”

“We start climbing. We need to get back to
the highway.”

“I thought you said you were going to try to
keep my ass out of the fire for a while?”

He shook his head and smiled reassuringly. “I
will. We’ll get back on well down the road from that group.”

“I told you we should have stayed in bed this
morning.” She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, then
grabbed her pack out of the boat. “After you, big boy.”

Chapter Three

Jeremy walked along the edge of the highway, wrapped
in a heavy coat against the chill. The 9mm pistol was back in his
holster, dried and oiled, after finding it during a quick search of
the stream where he had lost it in the fight with the Loony the
night before. He had to abandon his sleeping bag because of the
amount of water still soaked into its poly-filled batten after
being submerged in the creek. With temperatures dipping into the
upper 20’s at night, Jeremy knew that he could easily develop
hypothermia if he didn’t have some type of bedroll to sleep in. He
also knew this meant he would have to leave the highway and hit
some homes, or maybe a town, to find something. This invariably
would put him into contact with the Loonies, which were much more
dangerous than the cold. He had checked his ammo supply this
morning while he ate a stale muffin and found he was down to a mag
and a half of .223, two full mags of 9mm, and the one mag for his
.22, plus a partial box of 50. From afar he had seen some of the
larger groups of the infected during his time on the road and knew
if he ran into any more than a handful he would need as much ammo
as he could physically carry. He would also need to find more ammo
soon, his survival would depend on it. Again, that meant an
excursion into the areas that used to be the domain of men.