Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3) (8 page)

“You can’t wait anymore. I’m sorry. We have to go.” I reached for the smaller
of the two. She screamed and pulled from me, pushing herself closer to the older girl. I clapped my hands, fast and hard. The young girl looked at me. Good, I’d gotten her attention. “I don’t want to leave you here, but I will.” Tough love. I hated saying it, but it was the truth. I couldn’t abandon Heather and now all those other women and children headed toward Sandpoint. These two would be just more sacrifices in the war against Dominic and his undead.

The girl stood with the smaller one wrapped in her arms. “We’ll come, but we don’t have a car.”

A car.
Right.
I’d forgotten.
Crap.
We didn’t have a car either.

I
chewed the inside of my cheek, grateful the stench kept my mind from envisioning all the different muscle groups in a human body and all the different ways I wanted to taste them.

Heather stood beside our dirt bike when I came out followed by the two girls. James’s gaze found them and then snapped to the older girl’s face. He shuffled his feet and glanced at me.

I turned and watched the shapes moving closer, becoming more recognizable. My heart, which only had a day or so left to beat, thrummed a chaotic pattern against my ribcage. I suddenly doubted we were going to make it north. Odds were against us, always had been.

Only a fool pursued dreams when reality turned them into zombies. I folded my arms. It wasn’t like me to give up, but the situation seemed hopeless.

“They don’t have a car.” I spoke the words but didn’t look at my group. How could I? Tears sprang easily to my eyes and I forced them back. I would lose Heather and my brother and all because of some dumb girls who I couldn’t leave behind. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Maybe the virus upped my estrogen. Since when was I so damn emotional?

Maybe when my mortality kissed me on the lips an
d grabbed my ass before walking away.

James cleared his throat and climbed on his bike.

That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to ride and save myself and Heather, but a deeper need to be better than Dominic ruled over me. James held out his hand to the girls. “Ride with me.”

His simple words snapped me back to myself. The bikes were more than powerful enough. James had been riding forever and a half. A small girl, roughly five or six, wouldn’t give him any trouble up front and the sister could hang on from the back.

I didn’t ask or care if the small girl wanted me to touch her. I grabbed her around the waist and flung her in front of James, close to the gas tank. The sister didn’t hesitate and climbed on behind him. On my own bike, Heather and I settled in.

We j
umped off the sidewalk and barreled down through the parking lot. Shapes and their edges defined. I spotted a more detailed version of half-dead men searching the town for people… for food. One man carried a mutilated corpse of a small cocker spaniel in his hand. He tore a piece of meat from its hindquarters but his eyes roved for more.

Yuck. I ranked dogs up there with cat
s. Domestic. I couldn’t eat pets. Even if I was starving. Which I hadn’t quite reached that stage again. Apparently, I would eat human before pets. Twisted but there it was.

No close calls chased us from town, just the
knowledge that zombies moved like an infestation, slowly, methodically, eating whatever they could get their hands on. If Dominic had been through there, we not only had zombies behind us, but more in front of us as well. And if Mom did as I’d suggested, we’d have fire engulfing us on all sides.

Things were just getting interesting.

Heather
wrapped her arms around me. She leaned her head on my shoulder blade. The longer she was with me the less sleep she got. In a day or so, I wouldn’t be around and she wouldn’t have that problem anymore.

I was sick of
stupid roads. We had dirt bikes. We could take ourselves up the mountains. Cars spread out before us. I’d promised a vaccine to each woman and child in the vehicles. We started passing the cars, one by one, as they slowed until we’d caught up to the first. The woman with the shotgun stopped the caravan. I pulled up and turned off the engine.

She rolled down her window
. “If we go this way, we’ll get to the freeway. If we go this way, we get to the airport. And if we go this way, well, the road ends and then its national forest almost the entire rest of the way.” National forest meant fire. We didn’t fly planes. We only had one option and it wasn’t a glamorous one. The forks annoyed me. Everything about our situation annoyed me.

Two cars back, a boy rolled his window down and yelled, “Dad! Over here. Dad!”

I turned my head and almost fell off the bike. A man stumbled out of the woods about ten feet from the line of cars. His matted, dark hair framed his pale skin and hollow eyes. A bright red smear ran from his bottom lip to his ear. He couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing, but zig-zagged toward his family’s car.

The fathers were returning.

I leaned down to the woman, anxiety chopping my words. “Go. Get to the freeway and don’t look back. Drive as far north as you can. In case we get separated, tell anyone you see to start fires and head toward Sandpoint. Once you get there, find the hospital and get your vaccines. Don’t stop. For anything.”

The kids in her car had turned in their seats. One pointed. “Look, Mom, there’s Dad.”

She whipped around, straining to see. A whimper escaped her and she moved to unbuckle her seatbelt. I pressed my hand on her shoulder. “It’s not him. I promise. Get out of here before you lose your children, too.”

Screams erupted from the car where the kid had first called to his dad. I didn’t release the woman’s gaze until she shifted into drive and sped down the branch of road
leading to the freeway. Her tires sprayed us with pebbles and dust.

Heather clenched my sides and dug her forehead into my upper back. James murmured something to his passengers. The oldest one nodded. He met my gaze. I jerked my head towards the highway direction.
“Don’t look back.” Oh, I hated the freeway.

Hopefully, the other cars would learn from the first and run like mad. But the draw of being with
a loved one was strong. I just couldn’t tell all of them to fight the urge to see their husbands and fathers. If I had the chance, I’d want to see mine, too.

James revved off.

Another car filled with screams. I shifted into first. In my heart, the guilt filled me. At the rate I was going, even if there was a cure, I doubt I’d use it. I had more shame piling inside me that I didn’t know if I wanted to survive. Brian had gotten an out. At least I think so. Maybe my end would be more welcome than I thought.

Maybe
not.

We reached the freeway and didn’t look back.

The woman had stopped on the side of the desolate highway. She leaned over a railing and retched.

Oh, man,
I’d give anything to throw up, relieve the constant nausea strangling my gut. Anxiety did that to a person. Gruesome reality did worse.

Three cars stopped behind us.

We waited a little longer. The woman climbed back in her car. Her kids watched us from the back window, tears streaking their cheeks. No more cars came.

I slapped the back panel of her car and she lifted her head. The engine turned over. Four cars traveled with us to Sandpoint. According to a sign posted above a mile marker, we didn’t have far to go. Maybe three more hours.

We’d have to make it through Moscow before reaching Coeur d’Alene. Moscow was already infested with zombies.

~~~

The deep growl of the dirt bikes made conversation impossible. Heather slipped and slid on the seat behind me, probably falling asleep.

I didn’t miss sleep. The act itself had been relaxing, but I had such limited time, it seemed like a waste
to pass even a second with my eyes closed.

Heather jerked on my waist and I think she mumbled sorry. I couldn’t shift her to my lap to sleep or I’d lose all steering capabilities.

We’d been rolling forward for a good hour or so before the woman pulled over again. Hopefully not to throw up. The smell of the last one had finally been washed away by the smoky air.

I
stopped at her window. She lowered the glass and pointed in the back. “My kids need to go to the bathroom.”

Moscow wasn’t far. I nodded. “Okay. We have to go as fast as we can through Moscow. I know they have the virus. I’m not sure how long or how many so far, but it doesn’t take long
to spread.”

She chewed on her lip and watched the
empty road ahead of us. A finger tapped on the wheel. “You know, we could go the back way. It might be slower, but we won’t have to go through any towns.”

“How is that?” Doubt
screwed up the side of my mouth.

“This whole area is riddled with logging roads. You can drive for miles and miles and never see a single soul.” She didn’t look extremely enthused about it.

My excitement skyrocketed. “Really? ‘Cause the smaller the population the less likely we are to see any zombies.” Unless I looked in a mirror. Okay, I had to curb the joking. Honestly, I was starting to sound like a jackass.

I ignored her startled expression, until she raised a hand and slowly spit out, “Zombies? You’re kidding me, right?”

My jaw dropped. “What the hell did you think they were? Vampires? No. Zombies. They want to
eat
you. The virus is spread by biting through skin. You don’t have to be alive to get the virus, either. Believe it or not, but dead bodies are getting up and walking around hunting for food, too.”

She covered her mouth
and looked forward.

“Can
Heather and those girls ride with you? Heather hasn’t slept in a while and she’s slipping off my bike.” I wanted to keep Heather with me, but side logging roads didn’t sound like smooth travel. She’d slip off and damage more than just hair. Plus, her scent kept springing at me when I was the least prepared and my mouth would get wet. I wanted to eat so badly. A break from temptation would save some of my energy.

The woman nodded and unlocked the doors.

Heather didn’t argue as she slid from the back of the bike and rounded the car. She took the front seat. James’s two passengers joined the two kids in back.

I
murmured my thanks.

W
e left the freeway by the next exit and followed gravel roads north.

~~~

Coeur d’Alene Lake spread out before us underneath a haze of white smoke. We’d passed fire patches and raging infernos as we’d traveled the logging roads. James and I hadn’t taken the chance of off-road trail riding to search for food. The call of the heat would be too much. As it was, a fever-like shaking rattled through me every few minutes or so.

Thankfully, a doe and fawn had crossed the road an hour or so before, most likely fleeing from the fires. We’d taken them both down – baby meat not exactly my choice, but it was either we eat them or they die in the flames.

The meat had started wearing off minutes after we’d eaten.

My hands and feet felt like ice. James’s hands m
atched mine with the gray-gloved look over fingers and up wrists.

S
moke blanketed the area, undisturbed by wind or rain. We wouldn’t need long to get to Sandpoint. I was surprised we’d gotten the women as far as we had.

Not much of an army in chicks and kids. But sometimes even the smallest numbers counted for something.

Or had to.

Right?

One car had turned back. We didn’t ask questions or try to stop her. The situation was difficult to understand let alone believe. That we were at war with creatures made up of our loved ones and people we knew was worse than fighting for a specific cause.

The only
thing they fought for was meat. And the meat they wanted was yours. How did you not fight them?

We opted to drive straight through town.

But Heather had a different idea.

She made the woman stop the car as we crossed a long
overpass, according to a sign, called Veteran’s Memorial Bridge. Spanning across forest hundreds of feet below, the bridge looked out over the lake and the town intermingled with trees.

Heather climbed from the car and walked to the edge. She placed her hands on the railing and looked over.

Then she turned to me.

I cut the engine. The rest of the cars waited. I’m not sure what for. Curiosity held me
in limbo.

Dark circles attested to the sleepless week Heather had been trapped in. She hadn’t fought me or accused me of forcing her into the situation she was in. She’d accepted each and every trial like she’d been born to do it… and knew it. And maybe she had been. She
was immune to the virus. She hadn’t died or changed or even had any infections from the bites she’d received.