Omega Virus (Book 2): Revisited (22 page)

“You alright?” Mika asks almost hovering over her.

“AHH!” She screams as she looks up and sees his hauntingly friendly face smiling down at her. “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping an eye on you,” He says grinning wider.

“Well would you mind giving me some space?” Hope asks clutching the sheets tighter than before. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“Sorry,” Mika says the smile fading slightly as he backs away, “I just wanted to make sure you stayed safe.”

“I appreciate it, I really do,” Hope wheezes, “but this really isn’t what I need after the day I’ve had.”

“Ok, I understand you need personal space. I can respect that,” Mika responds fading backward into the darkness.

             
And then there is Mika. I’m glad he’s awake… but he just doesn’t seem like the same guy he was when we first met him. Almost like he’s changed, for the worst.

Chapter 18

              The thought of rest seems moot after a certain time. Hope sits up, her head pounding, her eyelids feeling puffy and heavier than normal. She takes her first steps with her hands holding the sides of her head as she tries to fight off the deep pounding that resonates within.

              “Bad night?” Fanny asks.

              “Barely slept,” Hope responds, “heads pounding. I could so use something to get rid of it.”

              “I might be able to help with that,” Brad says after eavesdropping.

              “I don’t know how,” Hope moans, “but I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

              Brad waves for them to join him. He leads them over to Cynthia’s medical cabinet. He forces the doors open and picks through the glass jars as he mumbles out loud, “I know it’s in here somewhere. Was it the yellow one? No, no it was darker. Oh here it is!” he removes a small cylinder shaped jar from the back of the cabinet. There is a thick purple cream inside that shakes like jelly as he struggles with the cork stuffed in the top.

              “What is that stuff?” Hope asks slightly concerned.

              “If I remember correctly,” Brad says as he is finally able to remove the cork, “I believe Cynthia said it was a mix of Lavender oil and flax seeds.”

              “And I’m supposed to drink that stuff?” Hope gags.

              “No, you never want to ingest lavender oil. Just rub a few dabs on both sides of your head. Something about the smell calms the brain and makes you feel better,” Brad says.

              “I’m willing to try anything at this point,” Hope says taking the vial.

              She dabs a few drops onto her fingers and rubs it slowly onto each of her temples, the fragrant smell invading her nose.

              “Why couldn’t she have used something this good smelling on me,” Fanny jokes.

              “Any better?” Brad asks ignoring Fanny’s remark.

              “Not yet,” Hope replies.

              “Did you want to wait for your headache to go away before we leave?” Fanny asks.

              “No,” Hope says shaking her head, “I think this place is the cause of most of my headache.”

              “Alright then, why don’t we pack up the few belongings we have and move on,” Fanny suggests.

              “I did mention I have a closet full of supplies didn’t I?” Brad says with a shrug, “I can set us all up.”

              “Alright, load us up,” Hope says, “because we still have a long way to go.”

Hope takes the cork out of Brad’s hand and inserts it back into the top of the glass bottle. She goes to put it back but has a second thought, instead placing the vial into her pocket before rushing to catch up with Fanny and Brad who have made their way to an old locked closet door. Brad sticks a key into the door lock and turns it slowly, listening to the tumblers click three times before sliding the key out.

“This lock is really tricky,” Brad says as he pulls hard on the doorknob. The door sticks as he struggles to get it open leaving him frustrated as he tries the key again. Getting more irritated each time the door doesn’t open. “Goddamn door!”

“Move,” Mika says backing each of them up before he lifts his foot up, kicking the doorknob violently. The wood around the door shatters as the door opens freely.

“Thanks,” Brad says with a hearty laugh. He pulls the remains of the door open revealing several years’ worth of scattered inventory inside.

The closet is full from top to bottom, handguns, shotguns, ammunition, and such.

“Holy fuck,” Fanny gushes as Brad shines a flashlight inside, moving the beam across each item.

“Yeah this is the stuff Miss Cynthia wouldn’t let me take to the roof. She said it had a bigger purpose down here,” Brad reminisces as he grabs a dull red backpack hanging on a hook in the back. “Take this,” he says tossing the bag to Fanny before pulling out a dusty looking charcoal gray bag.

He pulls out of the closet and hands the flashlight to Hope as he brushes the dust off of the outside. He unzips the largest part of the bag and fills it with several rounds of ammunition. He pulls out two black handguns checking the clips before spinning them around and handing them off to Fanny.

“Thanks, but,” Fanny starts to stutter.

“What? Don’t you like them?” Brad asks giving the guns a confused look.

“Actually,” Fanny says pushing him out of the way and grabbing a shotgun resting against the wall. She looks it over thoroughly before cocking it once, discarding the empty shell from the chamber, “I’d kind of prefer this one if that’s OK?”

“Hey, ladies choice,” Brad laughs before looking at Hope, “what about you?”

“I’m fine with my sword,” Hope says looking around in the dim lighting for her weapon of choice.

“Hope, I know you like your sword, but I think you should consider keeping a handgun as well,” Fanny urges.

“But what’s the point? I can’t kill a Zombie with one,” Hope argues.

“No but you can stun them if you’re surrounded,” Brad says.

“Plus if you had one the other day maybe Justin wouldn’t have…” Fanny says stopping short when Hope gives her a dirty look.

“Fine,” Hope grunts giving in, “I’ll take the handguns.”

Brad hands the guns over to Hope, who inspects them briefly with a look of disdain on her face, before sliding them into the waistband of her pants.

“What about you?” Brad asks calling Mika over, “you want to pick a gun?”

“Oh, yes please,” Mika says with an excited grin. He pokes his head into the closest and pulls out a long black assault rifle, “damn, a M27, I haven’t seen one of these since I joined the marines.”

“You were a marine?” Brad asks.

“Yeah, I signed up the day after I turned eighteen,” Mika responds as he inspects the gun from butt to barrel, “served for six years. I was part of the first squadron that was dropped into North Korea.”

“Sounds intense,” Brad observes.

“It was. I lost ten members of my unit on that mission. After that I was sent back home, honorably discharged after getting shot half a dozen times. They awarded me, and the rest of my troop that survived with purple hearts. President Quinn shook my hand himself and congratulated me on a job well done. I gave him back the medal, never saying a word to him, but I know he knew I wasn’t happy with him. A few weeks later the bombs dropped and I found myself gathering survivors, being told by The Major to follow him as he led me down to the shelter.”

“That’s quite a story,” Hope says her jaw slightly dropped.

Brad goes back to filling the two bags with supplies before tossing Fanny and Mika each a new machete. Mika looks at his sleek black bladed machete, the hard wooden handle wrapped tightly with a black tape like substance. Fanny’s is different; the blade is silver with an extended curve at the top. The spine is serrated. She runs her thumb along the side of the sharp teeth before giving a smile of appreciation.

“I’m guess you’re opting out of receiving one?” Brad asks looking at Hope.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hope says, finding her sword a few feet away, resting on top of a table. She slides the blade out of the sheath giving the old steel a good look before covering it back up.

“Alright, then we’re all set,” Brad says closing the closet door.

Brad tosses the gray bag over his shoulders while Fanny does the same with the second bag. She looks at the two long weapons coming out of both her hands.

“Oh, here,” Brad says taking the shotgun from her and walking over to the closest table and laying them all down.

He pulls out a few small bundles of white rope. He wraps the rope around the barrel, knotting it tightly before he turns the gun around and does the same to the butt. He gives it back to her and she throws it over her left shoulder, letting it bounce off her body as she moves.

“You need some too?” Brad asks holding out some of the rope for Mika.

“Nah, its ok,” Mika says holding both of his weapons firmly in each of his hands, “I’ve got this.”

“OoooK,” Brad says rolling his eyes in a slightly scared manner as he shoves the rope back into his pocket.

Hope leads the way to the door, waiting patiently, as Brad slides the wooden block off of the door and struggles to toss it off to the side. The door creaks open, letting in the sunshine and strong breeze. Silence deafens them as the door is pushed open the rest of the way. One by one they step out of the building, leaving the gym completely abandoned. They take a few steps away as the sounds of growls and scratching start to surround them.

“Oh this can’t be good,” Hope says releasing the sword from its scabbard.

“Get to the red Jeep!” Brad says pointing toward the end of the parking lot.

“Why? How’s that going to help?” Fanny asks brandishing her blade as Zombies begin to swarm around them.

“The keys are in the visor on the driver’s side; get it started,” Brad says pulling out his handguns, “I’ll keep them busy.”

Brad begins to unload bullet after bullet into the Zombies as they approach the group. They stagger back giving him enough time to pull his machete out from his back. He rushes them one by one, not stopping until he watches each of their heads roll off their bodies. Fanny grabs Hope by the arm and drags her toward the Jeep. The parking lot seems to go on forever as they fight their way across the concrete, removing a couple of heads as they do until they finally reach the car. They both jump into the front seats. Fanny throws her bag and shotgun in the middle seat as she drops the visor above her, catching the keys as they fall out. She fumbles with them before getting the key out and into the ignition. The Jeep stutters, the engine fighting to turn over.

“Come on!” Fanny growls, turning the key again.

The Jeep struggles again, causing her to slam the steering wheel hard with both hands. She grunts and growls again as one of the undead monsters gets up against her window, scratching and fighting, anything to get at the girls. Fanny turns the key again, finally getting the Jeep to start.

“Roll the window down!” Hope says.

“Are you crazy?” Fanny screams.

“Just do it and lay back!” Hope urges.

Fanny pressed the button on the arm of the door, letting the window slide down into the door panel. Hope holds the shotgun up and aims the barrel directly in the Zombie’s face. She pulls the trigger; firing the round and blowing the Zombie’s head clean off. She pulls the shotgun back as Fanny sits up and throws the Jeep into reverse and slams on the gas, running over a few more of the undead. She goes to shift the vehicle into drive when she feels the cold, clammy grip of a Zombie’s hand reaching for her neck from the backseat. She screams and shouts as she tries to fight it off, driving the Jeep erratically as she does. Hope cocks the shotgun again and once again blows the head off the Zombie, shattering the back window. Fanny peels the fingers off her throat as the back doors open. The two girls scream as Hope cocks the gun again.

“We have to get out of here!” Brad says tossing the Zombie’s remains out the door.

Mika climbs in the other side as Brad frees the bag from his shoulders, placing it beside them. Fanny drives over half a dozen more Zombies as they free themselves from the gym parking lot. Each of the group leaning back, catching their breath as they continue to put more distance between them.

“How much gas do we have?” Brad asks after calming down.

“A little over half a tank,” Fanny says glancing down.

“Good, let’s get as far as we can by car,” Brad says.

“What about stopping and filling up the tank?” Mika asks.

“Not likely,” Brad replies, “all of the gas stations around here have been cleaned out. Can’t say the same for all of them, but it’s not likely any of them have gas.”