Contagious (10 page)

“
Orissa,” Padraic objected. “No. You can’t do this alone. Especially with that nasty cut on your back.”

“
We don’t really have a choice.”

“
I’ll come with you.”

“
No,” I immediately replied. “You need to stay with the others. And carry the third bag.”

“
I can carry it,” Sonja offered. I could tell by the look in her eyes she didn’t want me going on my own either. I wasn’t too keen on that idea myself, but I didn’t see it happening any other way.

“
I’m fast. If anything is down there, I can run back here. And,” I added to appease everyone. “I won’t really be alone. Argos will come with me.”

“
This is stupid, Orissa,” Padraic said, running a hand over his rumpled dark hair. “We can come up with something else. Something that doesn’t involve you going out unguarded.”

I motioned to the dog. “I’ll be guarded. He can hear better than me. If anything is coming, he’ll know before I do.” Before he could come up with another logical counter argument, I dragged the chair away from the door and opened it. Argos went first. I waited, taking his silence as clearance. As soon as my feet were in the hall, I wanted to be back inside. I was scared, and the flaws in my plan slapped me in the face.

What if the first floor was overrun with zombies? What if crazies lurked in the shadows? What would I really do? Use the remaining eight bullets before trying to manically load another magazine?

There wasn’t a choice.

I worked on taking slow, steady breaths as I descended the stairs. Argos was nowhere in sight, yet the jingling of his tags echoed through the empty halls. I’d have to take them off as soon as I got the chance. That is
if
I got the chance.

We hadn’t braved searching the first floor. On ground level, it seemed more of a threat to dangers, unlike the second and third, above the dangerous reality. I stopped in the middle of the hall and closed my eyes, listening.

Something moved to my left. With the gun raised, I whirled around.

“
What the hell!?” I yelled.

“
Sorry!” Padraic said, arms held out.

“
I could have shot you!” I shook my head. “Why the hell did you sneak up on me?”

“
I didn’t want to say anything in case we weren’t alone.”

“
Oh, well great thinking. Now they probably heard me yelling.”

“
How is that my fault?”

“
You snuck up on me!”

“
I said I was sorry!”

“
Sorry isn’t going to make the zombies go ‘oh, I better not see if that’s food!’” I hissed. Argos’ growl interrupted my anger. “Stay here,” I demanded. Padraic didn’t listen. He gripped one of the movie daggers, looking oddly out of place.

Down the hall and around a corner, Argos pawed at a door. I pressed my ear against it. Suddenly, something bumped into the door. I jumped back. The thing clawed at the door, making horrible gurgling growls.

“
Zombie,” I mouthed. I didn’t know what to do. Should we bust down the door and kill it? It had been in there for weeks, I didn’t see it getting out now. I took hold of Padraic’s wrist and pulled him along.

“
You’re gonna leave it?” he asked, his mouth open in alarm.

“
I don’t think it will get out. Come on, we’re wasting time.”

The rest of the complex was zombie free. I stood guard while Padraic went and got the others. I had wanted them to stay safely on the second floor in case something happened, but Padraic insisted we all be ready.

Too bad I was right.

A horde of zombies shuffled around the parking lot. I stood, transfixed on their jerky movements, rotten skin and rumbling, unified moan. A blur of black whizzed past me. I didn’t have time to scream his name. Argos leapt onto a zombie, knocking him to the ground. The movement gained the attention of the others; soon six more dragged their feet in Argos’ direction.

My heart ached for the dog. I pulled the gun, aimed and shot. The scope was off. The bullet hit the zombie in the neck instead of the head, which was where I was aiming. Its head flopped back, arms flailing to the sides. Then it collapsed.

“
What the…?” I muttered. I shot one more, this time in the ear, before telling myself not to waste any more bullets on a dog. My heart hammering, I pulled the keys from my pocket. Seeing no use in being surreptitious anymore, I hit the lock button. A small SUV beeped in response.

“
Thank God,” I whispered. This was exactly what we needed. I flew to the door, my hands shaking as I unlocked it. I jumped in, jammed the keys in the ignition and started the engine. “Son of a bitch!” I hit the steering wheel. The ‘check engine’ light came on. Taking a car with engine problems isn’t a good idea even if you’re not running for your life. We couldn’t rely on this.

The second set of keys didn’t have a remote. The Chevy symbol was etched into the black top of the key, which helped narrow it down. The parking lot was nearly empty; only three Chevys were in sight. The truck would be too convenient. The Camaro, however, was the least practical. And it was a match.

I didn’t know how to drive a stick. I had always planned on learning but the opportunity came and went. The engine roared to life. I forced the stick in any direction it would move. In reverse, the car jolted back, slamming into another car. Fumbling, I moved the stick one over. The engine squealed, but we were moving.

Leaving the engine running, I jumped out and ran inside. “Go!” I yelled, waving them out. “Hurry! There are zombies out there!” I caught Padraic’s arm. “Keys,” I instructed. He reached into his pocket. “The Camaro’s a stick,” I explained shortly. “I don’t drive a stick.”

“
I can,” Hilary said. She hoisted her bag up on her shoulder and darted out. My fingers closed around the Range Rover’s keys and I was off again. I didn’t want to look for Argos. I couldn’t stomach the sight of zombies ripping his flesh off of his body, shoving into their decomposing mouths. The Range Rover was close to the main doors; we snuck out through the back. I ran around the building, my thighs burning from moving so fast. I could barely breathe as I started the SUV.

I almost hit him. I slammed on the break and swerved, threatening to tip over the vehicle. There he stood, practically untouched, wagging his stump of a tail. I opened my door and called him. With ease, Argos jumped inside, stepping over me and into the passenger seat. Tires squealing, I pressed the gas pedal hard. I jumped out, almost forgetting to put the SUV in park, to help load the remaining bags and Zoe. By some miracle, Finickus remained wrapped tightly in her arms.

The zombies that had chased Argos were making their way back with disturbing speed. I scrambled to throw the heavy bag of food and water into the back of the SUV. Argos sniffed the air, showing his teeth and turning in the direction of the zombies. He tried to jump out of the back of the open SUV. I reached out for him on impulse, my fingers wrapping around his collar. He jerked me forward, pulling my left arm which sent ripples of pain across my torn flesh.

I involuntarily cried out. Padraic appeared from thin air, getting Argos back in the Range Rover. He shut the door, put his fingers through mine and moved forward, only to get stopped by a zombie. Letting go of my hand, Padraic swung the dagger at the zombie, slicing its chest. Pale yellow pus and blood oozed out.

Argos barked and Zoe screamed. More zombies were coming. We were about to be surrounded. The zombie in front of us staggered, waving its hands blindly in our direction. The eyes were clouded over. I didn’t think it could see very well anymore.

“
Drop!” I whispered to Padraic. His eyes questioned me, but he followed suit. I crawled under the running SUV, desperately moving away from the zombie. My hands burned from pulling myself along the pavement as I scrambled up. The zombie had just figured out where we had disappeared to. Padraic kicked it in the face and dragged himself into the clear.

I shot another zombie in the shoulder as I frantically got into the car. With no real destination in mind, Padraic gunned it. We tore out of the parking lot, past a herd of zombies, and onto the main road.

“
The highway,” I panted. Padraic made a U turn (an illegal U turn, but who’s gonna stop us?). It was a little sickening to remember the full carts of food, water and supplies left to fester in the street. I told myself there’d be other stores to rob.

More zombies than I could count meandered around the chaotic streets, with absolutely no signs of human life. It was horrifying and frightening beyond describing. And it confirmed my worst fear: we were the only survivors in the city.

Cars were pulled over on the side of the road with their doors left hanging open. Suitcases, bags and other personal belongings lay scattered and forgotten amidst the occasional dead body. Where had everyone gone? Following the body trail seemed like a literal dead end. I kept my mouth shut. I needed to go north. I had to see if she was alive.

The number of zombies dwindled the farther we got from the heart of the city. I waited until we made it ten minutes without seeing the dead milling about to say that we needed to stop for gas.

“
Where?” Padraic asked. “I don’t think the gas stations will accept my credit card anymore. That and I don’t have it.”

I rolled my eyes. “We need to stop at a house, preferably one with a nice garden. Then, you’ll see.”

“
A garden?”

“
Yes.”

“
Can I ask why?”

“
You’ll see,” I repeated. A house with a nice garden promised a hose and gardening tools. I didn’t need the entire hose, just a few feet of it. “Get off on the next exit,” I told him. “And we’ll try to find a neighborhood.”

Every minute that passed without finding what I was looking for felt like a waste. I nervously wound my braid around my fingers, thinking about her, hoping she was somehow still alive. I had zoned out when Padraic said,

“
Is this ok?”

“
It’s perfect.” I straightened, almost smiling at the sight of the large houses. We passed three massive brick homes and pulled into the driveway of an impressive colonial style that was elaborately decorated for Halloween. “Stay here,” I told Padraic. Looking back at Zoe, I added, “If anything happens, drive. I’ll meet you at the front of the neighborhood.”

“
Orissa…” he shook his head.

“
Keep her safe,” I persisted. “Come on, Argos, let’s go.”

The decent thing to do was knock, which is what I did. No one answered the door, as I suspected. I peered in through the big, living room window, kicking a fake grave site out of the way. I knocked on the glass too, just in case. I looked, I watched, and I waited.

Nothing.

I picked up a decorative brick, red hot pain searing through my open flesh as I did so, and threw it against the glass. It shattered, not as neatly as it does in movies. Using a stupid plastic skeleton arm, I broke away the rest, allowing Argos and myself to get through without slicing ourselves open.

“
Hello,” I called out quietly. “If anyone is hiding in here, sorry I broke your window. And I’m not a zombie, so don’t shoot.”

Still nothing.

The house was incredible. The décor looked like something out of a magazine. Everything was grand and must have cost a fortune, but it wasn’t overdone. Whoever lived here had good taste. And apparently a dog; Argos happily picked up a rawhide bone.

“
Maybe I’ll find you some food,” I told him. My first priority was the kitchen and the garage. Every nonperishable item had been taken, including all beverages. There was a small bag of dog food in the walk-in pantry. It wouldn’t last Argos long, though it was better than nothing. With the food in one hand and gun in the other, Argos and I carefully picked our way into the garage.

“
Yes,” I whispered when my eyes feasted on the shiny, pearl white Cadillac parked in front of me. It was roomy, way better for a long road trip than the sports car Hilary drove. I went back into the house and began somewhat frantically looking for the keys. An odd feeling began to form in my stomach, a feeling of dread and anxiety. Not that it was odd to feel given the circumstances. I wanted out of the house. I was wasting time. That’s all it was. I knew I needed to hurry.

Giving up and sadly leaving the Escalade behind, I grabbed a pair of garden shears and exited through the back to find a hose. I pulled a few feet out and cut it. I stood, sighed and bent down again. It could be helpful to have two siphons.

A gun fired behind me. I jumped, dropping the shears. I snatched up my own gun, expecting to turn and see a dead zombie and the person who saved me from it. My heart raced when I turned. There was no zombie, only a man.

And his gun was pointed at me.

-Chapter 5-

“
Don’t shoot!” I cried, holding up my arms. “I’m not crazy or a zombie!”

“
Like hell you aren’t!” the man shouted, aim unwavering.

“
I’m not, I promise! I haven’t been bitten!”

“
It’s not the virus that’s making you crazy,” he said angrily, moving forward, rifle in hand. “Damn looters started already!”

“
I’m not looting,” I said back, though in all fairness, I had broken into someone’s house. Where had this guy come from? And where was Argos? “No-no one lives here,” I tried. I debated if I should raise my gun. I could drop to the ground, shoot him in the leg, take his gun and make a run for it. No, that was a crappy thing to do. The man came closer. I could see his hands shake ever so slightly. My heart pounded and my palms sweat. I swallowed hard and stepped in his direction. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

“
People lived in that house.”