The Infected (Book 2): Karen's First Day (10 page)

Two more SUV’s followed him and they all were armed to
the teeth. They looked like a band of rebels escorting the new President. 

“Bunch of assholes,” Morgan spit the words like
venom. 

“Where the hell are they going?” Cliff didn’t have time
to ponder. A small pack of infected was in hot pursuit after the convoy. He
waited for a heartbeat to make sure the street was clear and then punched the
gas.

On the way back to the apartment they passed the two cop
cars. The officers were torn apart and a few of them had joined the ranks of
the dead. Red blood was splashed everywhere and stood out in stark contrast to
the white paint of the cruisers.

When Cliff slowed down to make the turn he noticed a pair
of handguns and a shotgun on the ground. Twenty plus monsters roamed the street
blocking him from the weapons. There was a good chance all of them were empty,
but the desire to have more choices to protect his family than a cleaver and
revolver was very tempting. After seeing the parade of assault rifles, Cliff
suddenly had a strong need to get armed. He lay on the horn, got all of their
attention and like before the infected chased after the truck.

“Clifford?”

“I want to grab those guns.” He drove fast enough so none
of them could catch up, but slow enough that he did not lose them. Cliff made
three left turns. After the last turn he was facing the cruisers. He stomped on
the gas and left the infected in the dust.

The Dodge raced toward the two cruisers. The street was
clear of upright monsters. Scattered all around the intersection were dead
bodies, chewed up and torn apart.

Cliff pulled up next to the police cruisers. He yanked
the emergency brake and climbed out of the truck, leaving the engine running.

A block away the small horde of infected rounded the
corner hunting for their meal. There was no time to smell the dead roses. Cliff
played hopscotch as he jumped over and avoided stomping on any of the gore.

His stomach felt like it was about to turn inside out. He
had never seen anything like this before. At the retirement home it was dark
and he couldn’t make out all of the details. These bodies were laid out in the
warm spring sun. All of the organs that made up a human were out on display in
vivid detail. He stepped over one more body and a hand reached up. It caught
his leg mid step. Cliff fell to his face. He landed hard. The wind was knocked
out of him. Both of his palms were covered in road rash. Something reached
farther up his leg.

“What happened?” Morgan asked as she helplessly watched
her son. 

Cliff rolled over to his back and looked at what tripped
him. It was a dead officer. Its dark blue uniform was ripped wide open and even
darker now that it was blood soaked. The contents of its gut were spread out
across the street. Both legs had been torn off and laid a yard away from its
waist. The thing’s face was what stopped Cliff’s heart.

It was impossible to tell what the man might have looked
like earlier that day. Its features had been torn completely from its face.
There was just enough muscle left to operate its jaw. The snapping teeth were
only inches from Cliff’s calf. In the panic of the moment Cliff fired off a
kick into what was left of its face. The toe of his boot made contact with the
bottom of its jaw. Its head was cranked straight back.

Cliff immediately stomped its face and this time its neck
broke and the body went limp.

“Clifford!” Morgan yelled at him from the cab. Cliff
looked back down the street at the swarm of infected. They were half a block away.
Cliff sat up and plucked a gun from the ground that sat next to him.

“I got it.” He got back to his feet and scampered over to
the other pistols. When he got the guns into his arms he realized they were all
coated with blood. It only added to the collection of blood he had going on his
clothes. He had a tough time cradling all of the handguns against his body as
he reached down to pick up the shotgun. It took a bit to juggle all of the
weapons and it was seconds he didn’t have to spare. He worked it so three of
the guns hung from one hand and the shotgun was propped up on his shoulder.
Once he got them set, he bolted back for the Dodge.

“Move your ass!” his mother encouraged him.

The monsters were so close to the back of the truck. As
he crossed over the dead body that he kicked to death Cliff noticed the
officer’s utility belt on the ground.

It might have extra ammo.

Cliff stuck his foot through the loop that stood in the
air. On the next step he kicked his leg out and flung the belt at the side of
the truck. The belt had some of the officer’s intestines wrapped around it. As
the belt flew through the air it pulled along the dead body’s guts. It looked
like a horrible party streamer chasing after the leather Sam Browne. It hit the
side of the Dodge with a splat. Cliff hotfooted it for the truck and dropped
the guns off into the bed next to Morgan’s chair.

The leader of the infected had passed the tailgate of the
Dodge. Cliff grabbed ahold of the rear quarter panel for balance and kicked out
at the creature. His boot landed dead center of its chest and was able to send
it backwards to the ground. The next few infected tripped and fell over its
body.

Cliff bent down, grabbed the belt and tossed it into the
back of the truck. Some human goo flicked off of the intestines and speckled
Cliff’s face. His knee jerk reaction was to vomit, but he didn’t have time to
let his body takeover. The infected were right behind him.

A hop, step and a jump and Cliff was in the cab of the
truck. He pulled the door shut and an infected arm shot in, stopping the door.

Cliff could see the exposed tendons move as it reached
for him. Morgan’s screams filled the cab. She grabbed at his back as if that
would help the situation. Cliff pulled with all of his might on the Dodge’s
door handle. He tried to shut it, but there was no closing it on the bone of a
forearm.

The clawed hand tried to scratch at Cliff’s face and
arms. A fingernail broke off as it ground down Cliff’s thick leather sleeve. Another
set of fingers wrapped around the edge of the door. Dead bodies crashed into
the back of the Dodge. Each hit jarred the whole vehicle. Soon they would be
surrounded.

Cliff readjusted his grip on the door as the infected
pried it open. The cleaver rested on the dash to his right. If he let go of the
door they would rip it wide open. He felt like such an idiot for stopping to
pick up those guns. They didn’t save the officers that were trained to use
them.

How are they going to save him now?

The black-eyed monster stared at him through the window.
It didn’t give a shit about its arm. Tear it off if you want to, as long as it
got a taste of their delicious flesh. Cliff’s hands were slick with sweat. His
grip on the plastic door handle was about to give.

The two monsters pulled harder at the door. One of the
infected was a firefighter, dressed in his proper gear. He must have been
putting out a fire when he was turned. The left side of its face was melted.
The skin hung loose off his eye and jaw. It reached in closer towards Cliff’s
face. He promised himself that if he got out of this mess he would never take an
unnecessary risk again.

“Put it into gear!” He yelled over his shoulder at his mom.

She rocked over in her seat and leaned across the cab.
Morgan grabbed the stick and forced it into first. The transmission ground
metal on metal but she was able to work it into position. The instant it popped
into gear, the truck lurched forward.

Cliff reached for the wheel. As he pivoted in his seat,
he forced the accelerator down. The creatures pulled at the door and ripped the
handle out of Cliff’s grip.

The door swung wide open. Cliff cranked the wheel and
aimed for the back of a police cruiser. The infected kept pace with the truck
and were not looking ahead to where they were running. Their bodies slammed
into the back of the cruiser and the Dodge’s door clipped the rear bumper. The
force of the hit rocketed the door shut and Cliff pulled away from his and
Morgan’s demise. He let out a triumphant yell as he got the truck back up to
sixty.

“Goddamn it, Clifford! That was too close!”

“Don’t tell Tina. She’d kill me.”

It was a twenty minute round trip for Cliff, but it felt
so much longer. His daughter, Eve was waiting and watching for him by the
bedroom window. She recognized the sound of the pickup as it raced for his
parking spot.

“Daddy’s back!” She announced to her Mama.

Tina had been trying to calm herself after her excursion
with Karen to save the little girl. Organizing and cleaning the kitchen normally
did the trick to clear her mind. She finished placing a box of rice up on a
shelf, picked up her knife, headed straight to the front door and down the
stairs to meet her husband.

Tina was already crossing the lot to join him when he
opened the door to the Dodge. It was even harder to open after the crash into
the back of the cruiser.

She noticed all the blood covering his jacket and pants, “Holy
shit, are you hurt?”  

“I’m fine,” he opened his arms and gave her a big hug.

“What happened?” Tina planted a kiss on him.

“I need a shower. You don’t want to kiss me just yet,”
Cliff tried to pull away but there was no stopping her. After a few more
smooches she let go of him and waved at Cliff’s mother.

“I’m so glad to see you Morgan.” She let go of her
husband and walked over to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door.

“I’m guessing I have you to thank for sending my son to save
my saggy old ass.” The two women hugged.  

She worked to get Morgan ready for her chair. Tina
grabbed the bag off the floorboard. Cliff pulled the wheelchair from the truck
bed and popped it open. They lifted Morgan out of the truck and placed her down
on her seat. Tina moved behind the chair and pushed towards the steps. The
bloody guns lying in the back of the truck caught her attention.

“Where the hell did you get those?” Tina pointed at the
weapons.

Cliff had never been good at lying, especially to his
wife.

“I found them in the street on the way back. I thought we
could use them,” his voice wavered at the end of the sentence.

“In the street? Why are they covered in blood?” Tina
asked suspiciously.

“Some cops didn’t make it.”

“And you just walked by and picked up the guns?”

“Yeah…?”

“Is that a question?”

Morgan came to her son’s rescue, “Hey, get me inside before
I turn into one of those biters.”

Tina and Cliff moved fast for the steps. They each took a
side of the wheelchair and hoisted her up.

“I want to use the junk in the bed of my truck to build
up a wall to keep those things off our front door,” Cliff grunted out.

“You want to spend more time out here?” Tina grunted
back.

“It will take me an hour tops to get something up.”

“What if we need to get down and what about our other
neighbors across from us?”

“We have the rope ladder. We can climb down off the
balcony and the neighbors are out of town this week. They probably won’t make
it back here anytime soon. If they make it back at all.”

The two of them got Morgan to the top of the steps and
set her down.

“What if we need to get out of here fast?” Tina eyed down
at Morgan.

“Don’t worry about me honey. I’m not going to be going
out to score some dick,” Morgan laughed hard at that one. They pushed through
the doorway and she spied the cases of beer at the front door, “Grab me one of
those beers, sweetheart.”

“You haven’t had a drink in three years,” Cliff sighed as
he wheeled her past the brews.

“Didn’t you go through hell to get me here?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to drink one?”

“Yeah,” Cliff parked her in the living room.

“Well, my best friend Sal had his goddamn nose eaten off
today. So give me a fucking break and a beer,” Morgan just noticed her grandbabies
standing in the hallway, “Oops,” she covered her mouth. The kids had heard her
talk like that their whole lives. They didn’t even blink.

“Come here, girls,” she sat up and put out her arms. The
three little ones ran to her and they shared a hug. “Have you girls been
causing your folks trouble?”

“Lots,” Tina entered the room with a beer in her hand.
She popped it open and handed it to Morgan. “It’s warm.”

Morgan’s eyes got big and excited like a kid on Christmas
morning. She reached out for her first adult beverage in three years.

“That don’t matter. Let me at that sweet hooch.”

Tina handed it over and Morgan sucked most of the beer in
one pull.

“Oh….! That was good.”

Cliff headed for the kitchen. He had spent years watching
his mother drink. He didn’t need to hang around to watch her fall off the wagon
again, regardless of the circumstances. Cliff turned on the water faucet at the
sink. It was cold at first and felt good against his warm skin. As the water
turned hot he washed his hands and face with soap. He scrubbed up like a
surgeon, like he wanted to scrub off the first layer of skin on his hands. He
felt hungry, tired and pissed.

Tina joined him in the kitchen as Morgan played and asked
the little ones silly questions only a grandmother could ask.

“Relax, Doc. Those won’t grow back,” Tina tested the
water with Cliff.

He whispered, “Why did you give her that beer?”

“If things get worse out there, how long do you think we
can keep her alive in this apartment? Without a real doctor and meds?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he continued to wash his hands
without looking at her.

“I don’t know either. We should try and make her as
comfortable as possible.”

“Don’t let her get drunk. Please.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Tina rubbed Cliff’s shoulders. “How
was it out there?”

He slowed down the scrubbing on his hands, “A nightmare.”

She pressed her cheek to his back, “What are we going to do?”

Cliff grabbed a towel from the counter and dried his face
and hands, “I have no fucking idea.”

Tina picked up another armload of food off the floor to
load into the kitchen as Cliff pulled out his tool belt from the closet next to
the front door

“I have plenty of materials down there to get a little
wall up in less than an hour,” he wrapped it around his waist, clicked the belt
and cinched it tight, “Keep an eye out for me.” Cliff told his oldest, Eve.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said as she gave him a silly army
salute.

Cliff unzipped Morgan’s bag and pulled out the box of
ammo. He surprised Tina with the revolver in his back pocket.

“Where did you get that?” Tina’s mouth dropped. She had
never been a fan of having guns in the house

“It’s Morgan’s.” He emptied the spent rounds and replaced
them with new ones.

“What? Why would she have a gun?”

“You’d have to ask her,” he said as he placed it back in
his pocket. He checked the peephole and darted out the front door.

The first thing Cliff grabbed from the back of the truck
was the pistols, shotgun and officer’s belt. He carried them back up the steps
and dropped them off on the counter next to the sink.

“Wow!” Tina shook her head.

Cliff grabbed an old kitchen towel, wet it and rubbed the
blood off of one of the Glocks. He found the magazine release button and popped
it out.

Empty. Shit.

He checked all of them and the shotgun. Empty, every one
of them. He ran the police belt under the water tap to get off the nasty gunk. On
it he found a set of handcuffs and the matching key, a small flashlight and a
pouch full of rubber gloves. On the other side of the belt were a retractable
baton, taser, pepper spray, radio and one full magazine for the Glock.

Thank God.

He picked the cleanest of the guns and slid the new magazine
into the bottom of it. After watching thousands of TV shows and movies Cliff
felt pretty good about how to operate the pistol. He noticed there was no
safety so he did not rack the slide.

He got the belt clean, dried and put it on in addition to
his tool belt. It was very heavy and clunky but it made him feel safer.

“Let me show you this.” Cliff held up the revolver to
Tina. He showed her what to push to get the cylinder to pop out. “You can pull
back the hammer first and it makes it easier to squeeze the trigger.”

He handed over the gun. She got used to the weight and
popped the cylinder out a few times. Then she pulled a round out to see how to
reload it.

“Okay, I got it. Now go get your wall up.” Tina patted
Cliff on the butt.

It was time for him to do the job that he was good at.
Building something fast and cheap was his specialty. His daughter watched and
kept an eagle eye from the bedroom window.

Cliff threw on a pair of heavy work gloves as he jogged
to the back of the truck. He grabbed four long lengths of lumber and up the
stairs he went. He carried load after load up the steps. There was no doubt
that he would get a good night’s sleep after all this cardio. Like Cliff
promised, he had a strong, well-braced wall up in less than an hour of cutting,
drilling and hammering.