Z Children (Book 1): Awakening (29 page)

“How long have
you been out here?”

“Since noon, I
think. After Grandma…” she paused, and I knew the tears were starting. That
made me damned uncomfortable, even though I’d cried myself today, “and finding
Dad, I went home and got some clothes and some food. I was going to stay there,
but Mrs. Alice next door, her granddaughter… Well, she got her and I couldn’t
stay.” The sobs that ripped from Bonnie’s broken heart tore at my soul. I let
her cry, seemed like forever, but it wasn’t my place to say when grief ended
and survival began.

“How’d you end
up here?” I asked, once she was finally silent.

“I didn’t know
where to go, so I was just driving. Then the stupid car stalled.”

“How old are
you?”

“Twelve.”

“Small for your
age.” I could see her face screw up in defiance; I’d offended her.

“Yeah. And you
look like a hobo. Guess we’ve both got flaws.”

“Smart ass.” But
I smiled inside, the kid had spunk.

“Is the dog
nice?”

“Yeah, he’s
nice.”

She whistled and
patted her leg. “Here, doggy, doggy.” Ranger looked at me, an expression on his
face that was comical.
Why the hell is this kid talking to me like I’m a
cocker spaniel puppy?

“Go on, Ranger.
Make a new friend.” I jerked my head towards the girl and Ranger made short
work of hopping between the front seats and plunking down next to her. The pack
took up a lot of room, so the two became instantly cozy.

“You are a sweet
little guy, aren’t you?” Bonnie was scratching his ears and baby-talking.
Ranger pleaded with me, his eyes large and desperate.

“Hey, Kid. No
baby-talk. He’s a soldier, not a pet.”

“We had a dog
once, just for a few months. Mom wanted one, but after she left, we couldn’t
afford the food. Can I pretend he’s mine?”

“Sure, Kid.
Since he’s yours, he needs tending to. Grab the sunscreen out of the side
pocket of my pack and coat his scars.” A quiet thrum rumbled in Ranger’s chest,
indicating he wasn’t too pleased with this new arrangement.

“What happened
to him?” Bonnie murmured, now gently applying the white cream to Ranger’s rough
skin. I hesitated, not quite sure how to respond.

Clearing my
throat, I said the shortest thing I could think of that was absolutely true. “A
lot.”

Leaving Ranger
and Bonnie to bond, I surveyed the other cars in the lot until I decided on one-
a late seventies Dodge with dual gas tanks that were nearly full. It was old,
easy to hot-wire, easy to maintain.  The extended cab gave us plenty of
room and the covered bed would be great for supply storage. I kept on my toes
while transferring from the car to the truck, but there were no more threats. I
was grateful for that- I needed a break.

***

The sun was
setting as I finished my second shopping spree- hitting both the market and
hardware store again, now that I had the means to carry more supplies. The
sound of the bed cover clunking down to cover everything from a hacksaw to
cases of mineral water, woke Bonnie up. She’d been curled up on the front bench
seat, a protective Ranger hovering over her. He’d taken to her quickly- once
she’d stopped treating him like an average house pet. But I suspected the
gentle way Bonnie had taken care of his old wounds had really won Ranger over
in the end.

I’d felt bad
asking her to abandon her Dad’s wagon; it had sentimental value. But she also
had a tattered photo album- chock full of pictures. It was good, in a way, to
have reminders of a normal life, but holding onto that shit too tightly would
get you killed. You had to keep your mind right to survive. Of course,
sometimes not having pictures and keepsakes was a detriment.

It was hard
coming out of the ‘red’ after all the killing here at the mall.

“JW?”

 “Yeah,
Kid. I’m right here. Have a good nap?”

“Not really. And
my name isn’t ‘kid;’ it’s Bonnie. Unless you want me to call you…” 

  “OK,
Bonnie, no need to break out the big guns. You about ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we
going?” Came the grumpy response

“Can’t say;
somewhere safe I suppose.”

“Why not my
Great Uncle’s farm?”

“Why do you
think it’s safe?” I asked

“Because Dad used
to say it was halfway between nowhere and nothing. I don’t think the zombies
would ever go there”

Middle of
nowhere. Isolation. Sounded like my type of place.

***

Ambling, that
was the best way to describe it. Ambling.

The old Dodge
just ambled along. Like all of the early models, it rattled because of loose
panels and busted spot welds- which was the main reason we were trading off,
even though it was reliable. The banging and clanking scared Bonnie. I’d told
her we were finding a new vehicle because the 318 engine guzzled gas. She’d
known that wasn’t the real reason though. She was smart enough to realize that
the nearly full dual tanks would last us a long time. I’d half-expected her to
put up a fight; she was a little spitfire and didn’t want anyone thinking she
was a frightened little kid. But she hadn’t argued. After the day she’d had,
maybe riding in a quiet car that didn’t sound like it was going to fall apart
any moment was a comfort she needed.

We’d given up on
the farm; it had been a short-lived ray of hope. Bonnie simply couldn’t
remember exactly how to get there. Texas was a damn big state and taking lefts
and rights in hopes of sparking her memory was a stupid, fruitless plan. So, we
were hunting for a map. I’d never needed one before, rather going where my feet
took me, enjoying solitude and the freedom of a life without roots and
convention. But now, living in an uncertain world, I had a hankering to know
exactly where the hell I was. If Bonnie could magically find the farm’s location
on a map? That would be icing on the cake.

Bonnie saw it
first- the Valero sign in the distance. Instinctively, I slowed the truck to a
crawl, closing the gap until I was within easy visual range. There was a van
pumping gas and a couple of people. They looked normal, as if today was like
any other day- sunny and prime for leisurely conversation and a drive. Maybe
the plague or whatever it was hadn’t gotten this far?

 “Something’s
wrong,” Bonnie whispered. Her voice was barely discernible over the idling
truck. I followed her finger as she pointed to a sedan across the parking lot.
Children. Three of them sitting atop the car’s trunk. They were all focused on
the group of people around the van. Their nearly white hair was shiny in the
sunlight and chocolate ice cream and saliva dripped off their chins to pool
against their blood-spattered clothing. My veins went ice cold and my vision
focused.

“Don’t get out
of the truck!” I ordered as I stepped outside and placed the rifle across the
hood. It wasn’t a long shot, maybe 150 yards. Not even enough to compensate for
drop. I looked through the scope, seeing a woman frantically trying to open the
rear of the van and the three other people huddled together in a circle, all
their hands resting against a dark-colored book.
What the… What the hell are
they doing? Don’t they see!

Then the little
monsters were moving fast, darting towards the exposed people at the pumps.

I knew I was too
slow to stop the carnage unfolding at the van; whatever book the people had
been holding was now abandoned, the tallest man swinging the gas nozzle and
trying to hit one of the kids, the woman screaming and pointing. And the
red-haired young man… he was already on the ground, his body twitching with the
after throes of death.

But the second
woman, the one who’d been at the back of the van, she was bolting towards a
service truck across the highway. I pointed at her. “RANGER, GO!” I hadn’t even
finished the command before the veteran dog hit the pavement top gear and
headed into combat. He circled around the vehicle, moving in such a way that
the woman, in her frantic running, did not see him.

And I was her
second guardian angel, the scope focused on her, ready to protect her. I
couldn’t let four people die here, I couldn’t fail a mission.

A single blink
was enough time for Ranger to position himself on the hood of the service
truck, taking the high ground, ready to pounce. The woman had stopped, looking
back at the van as the tall man fell backwards, a zombie kid attached to his
face. I followed her gaze, seeing that at least one of the monsters was dead. I
didn’t see the third… so maybe the kid munching on the man’s head was the last.
That would make things easier.

The woman’s
expression was a mixture of disbelief, anger, grief. And then the mixture
dissolved into a singular emotion- fear. And I saw why.

Two were still
alive. And they had just leaped over the front of the van and were racing
towards her. She was still too far from the truck, she couldn’t make it to
safety… at least thirty feet. She turned away, desperate to reach the service
vehicle. And then she screamed, having seen Ranger atop the hood.

I knew what she
saw- a wolfish dog covered in burn scars growling viciously, the sound primal
and full of raw hatred. I mentally soothed her, urged her not to be scared of
Ranger.

The woman fell
to her knees, as if finally succumbing to inevitable death. Ranger leapt,
sailing over her head and towards the threat. Watching him work was a thing of
beauty. The screeches of the zombie children were deafening as he dodged closer
and then retreated, each time taking a piece of killer kid flesh with him.
Finally, his jaws locked on the throat of one and he shook his head vigorously.
Black blood sprayed into the air and the boy’s body crumpled onto the ground.

Ranger now
circled the last of the kids, but this one had learned a thing or two from the
deaths of the others. He matched Ranger, movement for movement, being patient
and careful. But I was also patient. And I waited, for what seemed like an
eternity, until finally the dog had maneuvered the monster into perfect
position.

In the
crosshairs and my finger caressed the trigger.

The echo of the
rifle shot ripped across the flatlands and the kid’s head disappeared in a
cloud of red.

“Bang-a-rang.” I
whispered, to no one but myself. Straightening my posture and slinging the
rifle across my back, I turned to peer through the windshield at Bonnie. “Come
on, Squirt. Let’s see who we saved.”

“I am NOT a
squirt!”

I smiled, nearly
a full-out grin, which was unusual for me, and I began walking. The sound of
the Dodge’s door opening and closing behind me was reassurance enough that
Bonnie would soon be at my side.

JW, RANGER,
VIRGINIA, BONNIE

Dallas, Texas

JW looked through the scope at
the large hospital below.

They were holed
up in a luxury suite on the sixteenth floor of a hotel adjacent to the Dallas Medical
Center. They’d had to fight their way into the building; the damn place was
overrun with families- which meant there was far more than a kid or two roaming
the hallways looking for room service. But he and Ranger had cleared this
floor, disabled the elevator, and blocked the stairwells. Which meant they were
safe. For a while. Being in a metropolis though… fucking stupid.

A farm. A
secluded, sustainable, defensible farm. Bonnie was even relatively sure where
it was now, having studied an atlas snagged at the Valero.

But, noooooo.

He’d been a sap
and let some woman talk him into driving into the very zombie epicenter of
Texas to get her boyfriend, who was likely dead already. Chris. She’d kept saying
Chris over and over again, sobbing when he’d started driving in the opposite
direction to see if they couldn’t find that damn farm. He couldn’t stand the
sound of a woman crying; he’d just wanted her to shut the hell up.

Emotional
attachments, they got people dead. He was better off without them.

A giggle sounded
behind JW, and he half-turned, bringing Bonnie and Ranger into his peripheral
vision. The pair was lying on the burgundy carpet, the girl’s fingers playing
along the texture of the dog’s burn scars. Virginia was curled deep into a
plush armchair, her eyes closed, and her face still swollen from excessive
crying. Who was he kidding; he was already attached and vulnerable. He hadn’t
asked for this. He’d been totally content living out of his pack.

He remembered
his life before though; his wife and what it meant to really have someone.

And that was
another reason he’d let himself be swayed from the course.

They’d gone to
Chris’ apartment first, the girls staying in the car while Ranger and he
checked out the dwelling. That would have been just too easy- for Virginia’s
boyfriend to be there, relaxing on the couch and watching shitty reruns on the
TV.

Focusing back on
the hotel, JW cracked his neck and started doing what he did best- assessing,
strategizing, preparing his body for a smash and grab and possibly one of the
more brutal operations he’d ever tackled.