Z Children (Book 2): The Surge (2 page)
And,
at that moment, I was beyond glad that I’d forgotten the scone. Vomiting is
easier when there’s only liquid in your system.
I lost
the tea in a stream of foamy pale wetness that arced out over the space in
front of me and hit the conjoined twins. They were splattered in red. Red. I
hadn’t noticed that at first.
Blood.
Crimson and wet, but quickly changing color.
And
then I saw the body of the nurse prone on the ground.
A
gaping hole in her chest, an abyss where the heart should be, drew my eye like
it possessed magnetic force. I wanted to crumple, collapse in confusion and
fear, into that crater of emptiness.
“Oh,
my God…oh, my God…what the hell is going on?” My voice was a whisper, only
traveling a few inches from my mouth and then plummeting to the ground.
Like
stills in an old horror movie, the girls come at me. Circus freaks joined at
the hip, they fought one another. Holly seemed to want to go back to the nurse
for seconds, but Faith wanted me. There was hunger in her face and thick trails
of drool dripped from her mouth. The fact that they did not move together as
one unit is what saved me.
Grabbing
the rolling exam table next to me, I yanked it between myself and the twins and
then I pushed it over so that all the instrumentation rolled off the tray and
littered the floor. Holly’s foot landed on an otoscope, and it rolled so that
her leg slide out from under her. She fell, pulling her sister down with her.
I
backed out of the room quickly, wishing the doors had a locking mechanism. They
were already getting up. They moved in unison now, both focused on me instead
of having divided interests; their upper halves tilted away from one another as
their four legs cooperated. Their coordinated effort was fast, ridiculously
fast. They leapt, easily sailing across the gap between us just as I slammed
through the door.
“Fuck!”
I felt
a jolt as I pushed my body against the doors to keep the twins from barreling
through. It opened an inch before I could muscle it reclosed. There was nothing
to shove into the handles. Nothing to keep me safe. They threw their conjoined
weight against the double doors again and I grunted.
“Fuck!”
Screaming
was coming from all directions now. I felt like I was in the house of horror I
visited last Halloween; the one that used strobe lights to keep people’s
eyesight from adjusting and keep them in suspense. I had screamed more than
once in that place. Here, I bit my tongue to stifle the yells that wanted to
escape my body. I raced away from the recovery room and back towards the
construction entrance that was off-limits to people (and hopefully off-limits
to conjoined twins with human flesh cravings).
Behind
me, I heard the twins push through into the hallway now that I wasn’t blocking
the doors.
DALLAS, TX
“No.
No one’s coming with me.” JW raised his hand, silencing the protests. “I’m not
arguing about this. You’ll just slow me down.”
It was
fifteen past eleven. The sun was high in the sky and rays bounced off of a
nearby building with mirrored windows.
“I.
Am. Coming,” Virginia’s voice was forceful. “Chris doesn’t know you and may not
go with you unless I’m there.”
JW
looked back down at the magazine and snapped another round into it. “I don’t
think you understand the situation we’re in. These weapons and ammo we have are
from a National Guard road block. Do you remember it? Twenty-one citizen
soldiers—fully armed, torn to shreds by those little bastards. No, you’re not
going. Neither is Ranger or Bonnie, and I don’t give a hot damn how big a fit
you have.”
JW was
really trying to control his temper. Honestly, he was.
Jesus. It’s like she
doesn’t even remember the carnage. Those poor guys, never stood a damn
chance—older gear, the stuff that usually lines the backs of shelves and
gathers dust. Like the LBEs instead of the ALICE gear. Still worked, though,
and the M-16s weren’t anything to scoff at.
JW liked the feel of them,
sturdy and reliable. M-4s weren’t some giant, earth-shattering improvement.
“Chris
will NOT come with you!” Red-faced and furious, Virginia stomped her foot and
looked more like a bitchy teenager than a grown woman with a medical degree.
“Then
I’ll punch his goddamn lights out and carry him back!” JW slammed the magazine
home and racked the slide. “What a hunk of junk. You think they would take
better care of their weapons.” Even though JW raised his voice, he didn’t sound
mean, just matter-of-fact.
Virginia
opened her mouth to speak again, but she was interrupted.
“Gin,
if you go, who will protect me?” Bonnie’s voice carried across the small hotel
suite. She didn’t sound scared, more like she was trying to defuse the
argument.
Virginia
turned and looked at the scared little girl sitting on the couch of their
makeshift hotel command post and smiled. Bonnie had started calling her Gin two
days ago and, although she normally preferred her full name, coming from Bonnie
she liked the shortened version. Virginia also knew that Bonnie was a scrappy
kid probably capable of keeping herself alive, worst come to worst. But still,
Virginia didn’t know if she could leave Bonnie alone. Chris was an adult and
Bonnie was just a kid—capable or not.
Virginia
looked at Bonnie’s third protector, the disfigured dog lying next to her.
Ranger had really taken to Bonnie overnight. The scarred dog didn’t seem too
worried about Virginia’s argument with his master, JW. In fact, he seemed
relatively apathetic; like Virginia didn’t have a chance in hell of winning
against JW in the stubbornness department.
She
sighed heavily; she knew she was going to stay here—take responsibility for the
young girl, and hope, with every ounce of her being, that JW would find Chris
and that Chris would eventually walk through the hotel room door and head
straight for her arms. And if that happened, if Chris was alive, then they’d
never be separated again. Virginia promised herself that.
Turning
back to JW, Virginia was satisfied with her decision, but still not liking it.
“All right, but I want you to take something with you.” Her face was set in a
calm kind of determination.
JW
knew that face—his wife used to get it when she’d let him win part of the
battle, but still had conditions she wanted met. Women were all the same.
JW was
not in the mood for flashbacks to his wife and negotiations. He threw a half-dozen
extra mags into his now-empty duffle and rolled his shoulders to work out the
knots there—courtesy of trying to sleep upright in a chair all night. Patting
his chest, JW felt underequipped for walking into a fight. It would have been
nice if any of the guard they’d ‘borrowed’ supplies from had been carrying
newer gear. But the saying ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’ exists for a
reason.
“Here,
please, just take this.” Virginia’s fist was closed around something; it rested
against her side protectively.
She
lifted her arm partway once, but then dropped it down again as she saw the look
on JW’s face. He was irritated, and he actually looked a bit…scary. It was as
if he was getting ready, transforming into someone different for the task
ahead.
“What?”
JW’s voice was anything but nice this time.
Virginia
hesitated a moment longer, but then lifted her hand fully up. Something shiny
and small, something that brought back uncomfortable memories to JW and more
flashbacks to his ex-wife.
She
held an engagement ring. The large stone caught the light from the kitchen
fixture, and it sparkled like it contained its own fire, ignited and alive.
Flame within glass.
“Take
this. Chris will recognize it.”
JW
took the band of silver with the diamond crown and then looked at Virginia, the
anger slowly slipping away.
Which wasn’t good.
He needed the rage and
the focus to get through what was coming.
“You
realize that Chris may not be alive…or, Virginia, he might be something worse.
You’ve considered that, haven’t you?”
“Chris
is alive, I feel it. And Chris isn’t a…” She stopped talking, her voice
crumbling at the edges with emotion. Virginia’s mind was now consumed with
Chris—all their wonderful times together, all the hard times, all the arguments.
JW
turned back to the balcony to survey the area around the hospital one last
time.
“But
if Chris isn’t okay…JW will you… Don’t leave Chris that way. Please don’t.”
JW
could hear the anguish and pain in her voice as Virginia spoke the words.
“Yeah,
I’ll make it quick.” Pushing a gun at Virginia, J.W. gave her the short and
sweet version of an instructional manual. She listened intently, holding the gun
gingerly. “You hold it like that, woman, you ain’t going to survive shit.
Here.” He repositioned the M-16 in her grip and realized she was shaking
slightly. “Being nervous about shooting a gun is human. People, normal people,
they don’t like killing. But if it comes to that, you hold this like you mean
it and you pull the damn trigger. You understand?”
Virginia
nodded; her swallow was audible.
***
As JW
disappeared through the door, as it clicked behind him, Virginia realized that
she’d never described Chris; she hadn’t even finished saying that Chris wasn’t
a…
God,
she hadn’t told him anything at all! All he had was a name. Why hadn’t he asked
for more? Why hadn’t she thought to tell him every detail—the way Chris’ eyes
twinkled, the way Chris smiled, the way…
Chris,
please be alive. Just be alive and let him save you.
* * *
JW
Nothing
was good about the situation.
I
breathed in and out steadily, surveying the scene from behind the visual
barrier of a banged-to-hell police cruiser.
Dallas
was overpopulated and I was doing a snatch in a children’s hospital. What the
hell was I thinking? I don’t even know this guy. I barely know Virginia for
that matter. I rubbed my eyes roughly, wondering what had compelled me to put
my life on the line for relative strangers.
Because
it’s the right thing to do. And I’ve never been one to shy away from doing the
right thing. If we stop helping one another… then the world really will have
gone to shit.
My
pack felt too light for a rescue operation, but it was a quick in-and-out
mission. Ammo, water, weapons, entry equipment, and some strips of a thin
cotton blanket from the hotel room. I hadn’t bothered to explain to Virginia
what they were for, but if this Chris got out of hand, then he’s gonna find
himself horse-tied and gagged quicker than eggs frying in summer heat on
blacktop.
I knew
that going through the front door was way out of the question. It was a freak
show of wandering parents, doctors and happy little cannibal kids hopping all
over the place. I didn’t have any idea how many kids were in this hospital, but
it was a lot more than any one doctor could survive.
“Chris is alive, I feel
it.”
Virginia’s words banged around inside my brain.
“Well,
I don’t feel shit, lady…except that my ass is totally exposed here.”
Shifting
the old weapon in my hands, I looked through the cruiser’s windows at my
target. It was an eight-foot-high fence, and behind it were cooling units and
back-up generators. The hospital would likely have a service entrance and the
fence would give me some protection assuming I could make it there without one
of the ‘kids’ spotting me. My gut told me that the mini-bastards could scale
the fence in a second once they put their minds to it.
And
they would set out to climb it if they saw me on the other side.
I
looked at the Vietnam-era rifle in my hands again. It was neat, especially
considering most from the mid-60s were gone or had been updated by Colt.
Would
be even neater still if it wasn’t prone to malfunction when it got dirty. Guess
I just got to keep it clean and lubed
. The rifle would work; I just needed
to keep focused and moving. Clean. Lubed. Focused. Moving. Sounded like I was
mentally working on my sex game rather than my killing one.
Inching
around the cruiser slowly, I made my way towards the next concealment, an
abandoned delivery truck. An advertisement for sugary snacks greeted me.
Against the current landscape, a too-large blond girl with pony tails smiling
and chomping into a bright pink confection was unsettling rather than enticing.
I tightened up against the truck’s door and had to stand nearly erect to glance
inside. Across from where I stood, the passenger door was open, and blood splattered
the seats. Not much guess work needed to figure out what happened here.
Zombie opens door, grabs driver, eats driver, and then has a chocolate muffin
for dessert. In my mind, I saw the blond kid from the giant color picture
biting into someone’s face rather than a Nutty Bar. Feeling the muscles in my
neck flex as adrenaline pumped more steadily through my body, I studied the
death scene for a moment longer before prying my gaze away.
Getting
on my knees, I scanned under the truck and the ground area past it looking for
movement. I could make out an over-turned armored vehicle in the distance, and
debris was scattered across the ground. Closing my eyes for only a moment, I
strained to listen for any cues that monsters were about. Nada. Nothing
skulking around where I needed to go. And I didn’t hear the pitter-patter of
little feet, a sound that used to be idyllic, but was now fear-inducing.
I
shifted my body so that I could see past the rear wheels of the truck. There
may not be movement near me, but there was a hell of a lot of movement towards
the entrance of the hospital. Z adults were roaming aimlessly and Z kids were
darting about in some perverse game of tag. As I continued to watch, I saw one
dark-haired child race and pounce onto the back of an unsuspecting Z adult. The
kid bit down on the adult’s—the woman’s—right shoulder and then hopped off,
holding up his hand and shrieking.
Maybe
it wasn’t tag…maybe it was a version of capture the flag, but in this case, the
flag was flesh and the aftermath was blood.
I
looked behind me and scanned back the way I had come. I was almost two blocks
from the hotel where I’d left Ranger and the girls. Ranger hadn’t been happy
that I’d left him behind; I could see it in his eyes and how his entire body
had tensed as I turned away to walk out of the door, but it was what it was. I
might sacrifice myself for some idiot trapped in a hospital, but I’d be damned
if I let Z kids eat my dog.
What
the hell am I doing?
I
thought about that question, letting it run laps inside my head, as I moved
around the front of the truck towards a Range Rover in the near distance. My
brain drifted to those poor saps in the National Guard unit. Small town local
boys with no intel and no proper gear. Just told to go set up a check point and
look for…what?
Wonder what they were told that got them so dead?
There
wasn’t time to dwell—not on why other people were dead. I only had time for the
present, for my situation and what was waiting for me in that hospital. Looking
up, still walking slightly bent over, my weapon ready, I caught furtive
movement in a second floor window. A blink and it was gone though.
I
still couldn’t believe it was a children’s hospital. Virginia hadn’t shared
that tiny little detail with me. When I’d first looked through the scope and
seen the giant lettering, I’d been first pissed, second scared, third…I don’t
even know what the hell I was third. I didn’t let it show, of course, but as
soon as I saw what kind of facility it was, I knew that I had to go in alone.
No girls, no dog, just me. And if I didn’t come back, Ranger would keep Virginia
and Bonnie alive or he’d die trying.
Checking
my six one last time, I slowly crossed the final twenty feet to the Rover. When
avoiding detection, speed attracts attention. It’ll get you killed. In
zombieland, it’ll get you eaten. So, keep it slow. Keep it steady. Slow and
steady wins the race.
Every
move I made was precise and thought-out with the end goal always held in my
mind like a promise that I had to keep, a promise that my life depended on. I
had chosen the Range Rover because it was beside the fence; actually, it was
more like part of the fence now since someone had rolled it—probably a panicked
driver trying to avoid a kid in the road, a hungry Z kid by the looks of the
bloody Rorschach-esque windshield. Resting against the barrier, it was my
easiest way into the compound since the gate area was locked off.