Read The Rabid: Rise Online

Authors: J.V. Roberts

The Rabid: Rise (8 page)

BOOK: The Rabid: Rise
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You should have worn the
lucky hat.

A thick splash
of liquid washes over my face. The pressure is gone. The fists beating rhythmically against my ribs are no more.

I wipe at my eyes
, frantically, with the backs of my arms. When I open them, the Rabid is still there. It hangs above me. A sword runs through one side of its head and out the other.

Katia struggles to hold the thing in place. “Slide out so I can drop it.”

You don’t have to tell me twice.

I scurry back and she lets it go.

“.50s are here, everyone get the fuck down!” Ruiz shouts.

My breath comes in quick steam engine blasts, the air barely
filling my lungs before it’s forced out again.

I go to stand.

Infected. I’m infected! Oh, my god, oh my god!

“No, Tim, get down!” Katia dives on top of me. She presses me back into the pavement as the
rounds from the .50’s suck the sound from the air and send strips of white light careening across the night sky.

Seconds pass. Perhaps it’s minutes. I don’t know. I don’t care.

I’m just waiting to turn.

Slowly,
the quiet seeps back in. The gurgles and growls are no more. The war cries of men cease to be.

“Clear!” Ruiz calls. “We’re clear. That looks like the la
st of em’.”

Katia
is hugging my face against the nape of her neck, one hand wrapped around the back of my head. “Calm down, Tim, you’re okay.”

I claw at the pavement. My heart pounds. I can still smell and taste that vile black sludge.

“Calm down,” she whispers in my ear. She eases my head back, her hands cupping either side of my face.

“I got that shit all over me, Katia. My nose, my mouth, my eyes. All over me.”

“Shh, just breathe, Tim, in through your nose, out through your mouth. I promise, you’re going to be okay. Just look at me. Look into my eyes. Don’t take your eyes off mine. Just breathe.”

I hold her gaze. Slowly
, I begin to lose myself in it. Everything slows down. My hands relax. I can feel the gravel at my back. I can feel the pain where undead fists had pummeled my ribs. I’m still alive. I’m not turning.

“We’re going to need to get you cleaned up.”
She smiles, straddling my thighs.

“How bad?”

“I’m sure we both aren’t looking our best right now.” She lays a hand against my chest. “Thank you, Tim.”

“What? Thank you for what?”

“For saving my life.”

What I’d done was foggy
, an out of body experience. I’m sure it’ll come back in my nightmares.

She pulls me towards her
, her hips closing against mine. Her fingers run through my hair.

“Are you two okay?” Ruiz
appears behind Katia, clutching his pistol.

I expect him to rip her away and plant a fist in my face.

She stands on her own.

Ruiz holds out a hand. He pulls me to my feet and embraces me with one arm. “You saved my life tonight. You saved hers. You’re family
to me.” When I step back, I see the tears in his eyes.

“It was my pleasure
. I guess we’re even.” I should have just gone with the solemn nod and called it a night. My faculties are still on the fritz. I’m lightheaded. I’m cold. My ribs hurt like hell. I take a step and cringe at the pain. My knees buckle.

Ruiz props me up under one arm. Katia gets me on the other side.

The two Humvees stare us down from the opposite side of the parking lot. Smoke still swirls from the barrels of the mounted .50’s. Between us lies the battlefield. It is littered with the mangled bodies of hundreds of Rabid. Some of them are missing arms and legs, many are absent their heads, a few of them still twitch with fleeting life. Cars burn, the seats are long gone. Only the melted plastic and paint are keeping the flames alive at this point.

I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

“Solomon,” Ruiz calls out and a husky little man with a high-and-tight haircut appears.

“Sir?

“Dead and wounded?”

“Casey and Hicksman, sir. Both of them were bitten during the first wave, we had to...”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it.”

“Yes sir.” Solomon nods and hurries off in the other direction.

We move
slowly. Careful to step over and around the fallen Rabid. Men walk the graveyard before us with their empty rifles hung low, covered in black blood. Looks of horror and disgust line their faces.

“Good
job, boys,” Ruiz says as we pass them by. “You go get yourselves cleaned up. Get some sleep. You’ve earned it.”

A boy, probably a few years younger than me, runs up to us, breathless, afraid,
with filth covered features. “Mr. Ruiz, you’ve gotta...you’ve gotta...come, quick,” he pants.

“What’s the matter, boy?”

“It’s...Loco. He’s bit, sir. Bit pretty good. Gonna be turning.”

Loco,
I recognize the name right off, the guy with the machete, the one I’d loaned my Ruger to during the battle.

Damn shame.

“Oh, Jesus,” Ruiz sighs. “Katia, get him back...”

“No,”
I cut in, “I want to go with you, I want to be there, however I’m able.” I ease myself away from Katia, standing on my own two feet. “I can walk. I’m not gonna slow you down.”

Ruiz shrugs. “Alright, it’s up to you
, but I’m warning you, this is gonna be ugly.”

I nod. “I’
ve seen ugly.”

Loco is
about a hundred yards up, past the Humvees, propped up against one of the cement support columns weaved throughout the perimeter of the security gate. The Ruger lays on the grass beside him, empty, the slide locked back. He’s clutching his arm against his stomach and sweating like a hog, but, he smiles at our approach.

“I bit off more than I could chew this time, eh
, Ruiz?” Loco’s laughter is broken by coughing fits. He holds up the injured arm. His wrist is a mess of mangled flesh and splintered bone. “They got me good.”

Ruiz kneels beside him. “Looks like you went down swinging,
hermano
.”


Literally, damn gun ran out of bullets. I was pistol whipping motherfuckers.” He laughs. Coughs. Blood streams from between his lips. His eyes are fogging over. “I can feel it happening. I used to talk shit, you know? About how we all had to go at some point, and I wanted to go down fighting. Now, here I am, and I’m fucking terrified, bro.”

“It’s okay to be scared. We’re in it with you my friend, all the way, we’ve got you.”

Other men are beginning to gather. They’re reaching in to pat Loco on the shoulder and to shake his good hand.

“You’re a trooper.”

“Way to take it to em’, Loc’.”

He returns the accolades to the best of his ability. His body vibrates
under a blanket of cold sweat. The color begins to drain from his face. Still, he smiles and nods.

To ward off the terror perhaps?

I imagine I’d be kicking and screaming. The pistol would already be in my mouth.

I’ll take the bullet over the bite any day.

Katia steps in closer to me. She wraps her arms around mine and sets her chin on my shoulder. “He doesn’t have long,” she whispers.

A warning?
In case, I want to turn away?

“Ruiz, can I...see my family, before, you know...”

“Of course.” Ruiz sits down beside Loco and wraps an arm around his neck. He points to two men in the growing crowd. “You two, get his family. Bring them here, fast as you can.”

The two men Ruiz chose from the
crowd aren’t gone for long. The wailing of women heralds their return.

A wife.

A daughter.

Loco’s family.

Ruiz stands back as the two women fall on top of Loco. Tears and kisses bombard his face. He winces in pain, yet, he makes no effort to push them away.

Ruiz looks nervous. His gun is out of
the holster and just out of sight behind his right hip.

It’s almost time.

Katia still clutches my arm, harder now, her head on my shoulder. It’s an odd feeling of tranquility considering what’s about to happen.

Ruiz even smiles at us.

I’m
family
now.


Okay, its time.” Ruiz gestures to the two men that brought the women down to say their goodbyes.

They approach the scene, timid. They hover over the weeping forms, locked together
, arms and necks. The two men aren’t sure what to do next. They look to Ruiz for guidance and shrug.

Ruiz spares them the task and steps in. “Ladies, I’m so sorry, but it’s time. I need you to go back with these men. They’ll take care of you.”

The daughter screams and latches even harder. Thankfully, the mother, through her own grief, understands the gravity of the situation. With gentle prodding and whispered comfort, she manages to pull the little girl to her feet.

I breathe easier. That wasn’t a tug-o’-war I was
eager to witness.

The women disappear back through t
he crowd. Their final goodbyes a chorus of choked sobs.

Ruiz stands over Loco now. His eyes are mournful and determined. He’s been here before.

“I don’t suppose you’d give me the gun and let me spare you the trouble?” Loco asks, a weak smile indicating that he already knows the answer.

“You know I can’t. But if I could,
well…”

“I know
, brother, I know.” Loco takes in a deep breath and let’s it out slow. His eyes are shifting color. The deep brown has been eclipsed by fog. The machines are assuming rapid control. Without the mercy of a bullet, he’ll soon be one of them. One of the Rabid. There’s no time left. “I’m ready for it when you are,” Loco says, closing his eyes and lifting his chin.

Proud, even in the face of death.

I break away from Katia and start back towards the apartment. I’ve seen ugly, but I don’t need to see this.

 

***

Bethany is pacing the walkway in front of our apartment door, gun in
one hand and a flashlight in the other. When she sees me, she breaks my way in a full sprint, sobbing uncontrollably. Part of me wants to yell at her, to tell her not to run in the dark with a loaded gun. But I don’t have the strength to play guardian right now. Plus, she’s already upset enough as it is. No need to pile on.


Oh, my God, Tim, what happened?” She slips the gun into her waistband and feels me over with her other hand. I flinch and she recoils. She pulls the flashlight from her pocket. “This looks so bad,” she gasps, taking in each new bump and bruise with the narrow beam of light.

“It’s not, really, it’s not as bad as it looks. Most of the blood isn’t mine.”

She starts pawing at my bare chest.

“Ah!” It takes everything in me not to slap her hands away.

“Sorry, please, I’m sorry, just let me look.” Her face is still wet, but new tears have stopped forming. I’m alive. The cause for her hysteria has been vanquished. “Shit, Tim, you’re black and blue.”

“Yeah, I got my ass kicked a little.

She steps back and blinds me with the beam. “By who?”

I hold my hands up and jerk my head away. “Can you turn that?”

“Sorry,” she says, aiming at my feet instead
, “who kicked your ass?”

“More like
what
kicked my ass.”

“Rabid?”

“Yeah, a lot of em’. Breached the back gate. Killed that Loco guy and two other guys.”

Bethany slaps a hand across her mouth. “
Oh, my God!” The panic in her voice is muffled. “Are you bit?” She reaches for me again, spastically.

This time I deflect her, stepping away; the
night’s events combined with her coddling, it’s too much for me. “I’m fine...seriously. I just need to sleep, please?”

Her feelings take a small kick. Her eyes start
growing shiny again. She’d been fretting over me. There’d been the gunshots and the screaming and the not knowing whether I’m dead or alive. Now, here I am, brushing her aside rather than allowing her some well-earned time to prod and poke.

I’ll apologize tomorrow. Tonight, I’ve given all I’ve got to give. There’s nothing else left.

I rustle past her and into the apartment. I’m hurting like hell. But, thankfully, the fatigue far outweighs the pain.

 

11

 

At first, I think it’s Bethany tickling my face and rustling my hair. I roll onto my side, groan, and bat her hand away.

My body hurts. I’m tired. I’m committed to sleeping through lunch.

She’s incessant.

I roll onto my back
and reluctantly open my eyes to find Katia standing over me with a breakfast tray in hand, smiling from ear to ear.

I’m shocked and a little embarrassed. I sit up and pull the blankets a little higher before setting my fingers to the task of
alleviating the radical case of bed head dancing a boogie across my scalp. “I thought you were Bethany trying to mess with me.”

“Bethany is out by the pool swinging swords again.”

“Of course.”

“You slept through breakfast.”

“Well, I kinda had a long night. My ribs are killing me.”

“Would you mind taking the
tray, my arms are getting tired?”


Oh, yeah, sorry.” It’s a basic set up: eggs, grits, two pancakes.

Katia leans back against the kitchen counter, watching me eat.

When I’m finished, I set the tray aside and throw my legs across the side of the cot. A surge of pain runs up one side of my body. I do my best not to let it show, faking a yawn instead, and rubbing my eyes.

I’m shirtless, wearing only my jeans. I need to brush my teeth. A long shower would be nice too,
but I’ll settle for the wash bucket. “How’s...” I run my hand in a circle trying to remember his name.

Why can’t I remember the
guy’s name? He’s been dead less than twenty-four hours.

“Loco?”

“Yeah, how’s Loco’s family?”

Katia shrugs. “I haven’t seen them since last night. I imagine they’re pretty messed up right now. Like
any other family that loses someone.”


Yeah, been there.” Am there. “Well, if there’s anything I can do, or whatever.”

She nods. “That’s sweet of you. But short of bringing their man back, I don’t think there’s shit that can be done. We just have to keep kicking ass and taking names, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“We’ve never been overrun like that before. We’ve had a breach or two, a couple
Deadheads here and there. We’ve even had guys bitten that had to be put down. But nothing like that.”

“I guess I’m just a lucky charm.”

She giggles and drops her head. Her hair is brushed over to one side of her head. The other side has been freshly buzzed. “You really are though; you know, like a lucky charm. If you hadn’t been there...my brother...me...well, we’d be dead.”

“I did what came natural, I guess. Didn’t really think on it
much. Hell, you saved me too. I tripped over my own damn feet. I’m not exactly ninja material. And ya’ll saved us at the storage facility, so I guess I still owe you one.”

“Yeah, well,” s
he pushes herself off the counter, “I wanted to say thanks, again. You saved my life.” Katia’s jeans ride low on her hips, like every other pair of pants she owns. They’re frayed at the pockets, and across the thighs and knees, intentional, or not? Hell, I don’t know. It’s a good look. The white undershirt she wears has seen a pair of scissors. It’s cut off just above the belly button. A navel piercing glimmers in the sunlight, her tattoo dances across her V-cut abs. “Do you like me, Tim?”

Oh, here we go again. “Katia, I’m not
in the mood for the games today. You’re beautiful, every guy here likes you. I’m not sure what the point of this is? Yes, I’m a virgin. Yes, you scare the shit out of me. I’ve never been good with girls. But, I’m not the puppet type. I don’t really appreciate you trying to pull my strings for kicks.”

“You done ranting?”

I sit forward, elbows on my knees. There’s no point responding.

“Good.
” She pushes herself off the counter and heads for the front door, hips swaying. Instead of opening it to leave, she locks both deadbolts.

“What are you doing
?”

She turns.

Biting her tongue between her front teeth.

She starts towards me.

“Katia, what’re you doing?”

She unhooks the belt holding her swords in place and props them against the wall. “Tim, I wasn’t playing a game or trying to pull your strings.” She’s all hips as she moves
in closer. “Like I said, I like you. And there’s really not room for subtlety.” She pulls her shirt over her head and drops it at her feet. She’s not wearing a bra. She stands there, arms by her side, allowing me to drink her in.

She’s breathing heav
y. Her abs flex with each movement. Each of her nipples is pierced through with little silver barbs. Her breasts sway up and down with the swell of her chest; small, perfect, inviting.

She’s n
ervous, maybe?

I’m dizzy.

My mouth is dry.

What do I say? What do I do?

She saves me from thinking on it much longer.

She’s quick. She plants me against the cot. Straddling me. Pressing her breasts hard against my chest.
Her skin is warm. Soft. Like velvet. She wraps her lips across my mouth and coils her tongue around mine.

I just
go with it.

The pain in my ribs is gone. Hell, every sense I possess is out the damn window. I feel nothing, other than a very distinct throbbing.

“Put your hands on me, dipshit.” She grabs my wrists and slides my hands down across her lower back and beneath her jeans, cupping my fingers across her ass. “There you go.” She darts her tongue out, playfully, nibbling at my upper lip. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

At
first, I doubt my ability to form words. “That...obvious?” I manage.

She rubs my nose with her own. “It’s okay. Do you want to?”

“What the fuck do you think?”

I’m definitely going to miss lunch.

 

BOOK: The Rabid: Rise
8.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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