Z Children (Book 2): The Surge (7 page)

“Oh,
my God…oh, my God, she’s really here.” Christine stumbled forward and snatched
the ring from me. “Oh, my God.” She just kept saying the same words, over and
over again. Her tears were flowing like a fountain. It grated on me; I didn’t
like to be confronted with so much raw emotion. I could hear shuffling in the
distance; we didn’t have time for delays. Our luck was about to end; the wolves
were about to descend.

“Good,
you believe me. Now move it.” I gripped her upper arm and started to pull her
along roughly. She didn’t fight me. She was still looking at the goddamn
wedding ring like it was a blinding sign from Heaven.
There are no angels
here, woman. Just demons, shit, death, and fucking demons.
“You either
start walking for yourself or I’m leaving you. I won’t say it again.”

Taking
a precious moment to pause, I looked at her. After a second, she stopped
staring at the ring, stopped muttering. “She’s here.”

“She’s
here. And you won’t live to see her if you don’t get your head out of your ass,
Doc.”

Christine
nodded, sniffled twice, and nodded again. “You get me to her. Please.”

“That’s
the plan. Now move.”

And
she did, I’ll give her that. But she also started crying again behind me.
Great,
I thought,
that’s all I need. More estrogen. Another set of tits with a
menstrual cycle. Thank God for Ranger.

* * *

VIRGINIA

If it
hadn’t been for Ranger, we never would have made it; we’d have been dead in a
matter of seconds. There was no doubt in my mind.

I’d
done what JW had told me to and let loose with a full mag of ammo. Then I’d run
like I was trying out for an Olympic team. No way in hell I’d qualify. Even
pumping at full capacity, my legs felt like they were in slow-motion, backwards
and forwards like double pendulums hanging from a too-slow grandfather clock.
Bonnie was ahead of me, also running as fast as her legs would carry her. The
difference was, if she were a clock, she’d be running on time, dinging out the
hour appropriately and without pause.

Blood
was thumping so hard through my brain that I couldn’t even hear our footfalls
against the hard ground.

I
could hear
them,
though, despite my racing pulse and the sickening jolts
of adrenaline that kept me pushing forward. That angry horde of creatures
jammed together was way too close behind us. The burst of bullets hadn’t killed
nearly as many as I’d hoped it would—most of the rounds had gone wild. Full
auto was a lot harder to control than it looked like in the movies. My arms and
grip just hadn’t been strong enough to hold steady. JW had made it sound so
simple. Do this. Do that. Point and shoot. Typical man. There was a reason I
stuck to dating women. Women…
God, Chris.

I forced
the image of her from my brain. It wanted to encroach on my concentration,
blanket my thoughts with her skin, hair, face, but I couldn’t let that happen.

Ranger
was bringing up the rear. His throaty growl followed behind me, and I found it
to be a comforting soundtrack. As long as that dog—warrior that he was—was
between my body and the monsters, then I stood a chance. And if I stood a
chance, that meant Bonnie stood a chance. I couldn’t imagine being a child now
that Hell had risen and taken up residence on the surface of the planet.

That
had to be why this was happening—Armageddon, end of days shit. I was a rational
woman, but none of this shit was rational.

A bark
at my heels made me move even faster. As I continued to run, I sneaked a look
back. There were even more now. I shouldn’t have looked.

Where
had they all come from?

I
turned back around, facing Bonnie’s back. I could tell she was beginning to
tire. We hadn’t been on the move long, but she was pushing the heavy cart.
Another glance behind us. Was it possible that even more had joined the
undulating mass of rotting bodies? They were just appearing, melting out of the
shadows cast by buildings and stumbling out of alleyways we’d just run past.

A
screech of agony made me turn once more—Ranger had a Z boy by the throat.

Fuck…fuck…keep
running, stop looking back.

We
were almost there. Almost. The Hummer was only several yards away now.

A howl
behind me.

I
couldn’t not look back.

A Z
girl was trying to bite into Ranger’s left hind leg. With a quick snap of his
head, Ranger’s teeth closed around the top of the creature’s head. His eyes
half-closed as he tried to bite through bone and into brain.
Shit…oh,
shit…don’t you die on us, Ranger!

Turn
around, check on Bonnie, watch where I’m going.

One
more glance.

Our
canine protector was in power again—everywhere, knocking the Z’s back with
precision like a well-oiled machine. The adults were nearly on top of us now,
catching up to their smaller counterparts. I wanted to replace the M-16’s mag
and help our furry bodyguard with another spray of ammo. Unfortunately, I
wasn’t versed enough to do it efficiently, especially not while running.

With a
resounding slam, the front of the cart hit the army truck and Bonnie yelped.

I
wanted to keep watching Ranger, make sure he survived, but I couldn’t. We were
at the vehicle, we had the fuel and the dog was buying us precious time.

It was
hard to concentrate as I listened to the fighting—the small footsteps coming
closer, the inevitable crunch as Ranger halted a Z’s advance. The screams of
frustration and anger—shrill and demonic—were unrelenting. They pierced my
brain like
Mussorgsky's
Night on Bald
Mountain
.

Opening
the front passenger door, I grabbed Bonnie’s arm and pushed her into the
vehicle, and then I slammed the door shut again. “Gin, what are you—”

“Lock
the door. Stay in there no matter what,” I interrupted her, hoping she’d obey.

For a
second, I saw her hands hovering above the door frame at the base of the
window, looking for a lock, something to depress and make her safer, but there
wasn’t one. Guess the Guard was brave enough not to need to hide behind a
secured door
.
Wait…Virginia. Think. Don’t be an idiot.
JW had
shown us both how to lock the door, but in our panic we’d apparently both
forgotten.

“Bonnie!
Look down! Combat lock!” I pointed down frantically and her gaze dropped from
the door’s upper ledge where a lock would be on a normal, domestic car to where
the single-movement combat lock was located on an older Hummer. It had been one
of the first things JW had taught us about the vehicle.

The
hair on my arms and back of my neck were standing on end as I turned away from
Bonnie’s face in the window of the truck. I’d heard the bolts slide into place.
All the doors were locked. At least I thought they all were. I tried to think,
tried to count how many clicks I’d heard. Four. Had I heard four? Yes. Hopefully…
No, all the doors were locked. She was safe. I wasn’t. I didn’t want to stay
out here—there were still so many of them and Ranger was only one dog.
Just
buy me a little more time, buddy.

Laying
the gun across the top of the cart, I tried to ignore the danger. I wasn’t
successful. It was like asking a drug addict to ignore the prepped needle and
rubber banding two feet away from their twitching fingers and itchy skin.

The
fuel access was next to the rear passenger door. Grabbing the first full milk
jug, I popped off the top and unscrewed the fuel cap. My hands were shaking so
badly—the sounds of war behind me—that I spilled half of the diesel while
pouring.
Stop shaking, idiot. Fuck!
We’d risked our necks to fill the
containers and I was wasting it. Dropping the first empty jug to the ground, I
picked up the next.

Trying
to keep my hands steady as I poured this time, I craned my neck to see what was
happening behind me.

Ranger
wasn’t going to be able to keep them away much longer. His movements were
beginning to slow, but I knew he wouldn’t stop—not until both Bonnie and I were
out of harm’s way.

Second
empty container to the ground. Third container opened. This one still smelled
slightly of bleach mixed with the pungent odor of diesel fuel. A noxious combo.
Steady. Steady.

Half-way
finished with pouring the third, my body was pushed abruptly against the
Hummer. I gasped, feeling the jug slip from my grip and plummet to the ground.
Fuel began to pool at my feet and snake beneath the vehicle in a river. I
wanted to scream in frustration. But then I realized it was Ranger’s body
pushing mine. His scarred body was shielding my own from a Z adult who’s hands
were reaching out toward me.

A
scratching sound from above me pulled my attention.

This
time I did scream out loud.

“Shit!
Ranger!” Grabbing one of the still-closed and full containers, I swung it above
my head and aimed for the Z girl perched on top of the Hummer. The bottom of
the jug caught her on the chin and knocked her off balance. Grabbing the gun
with one hand, I gripped the handle of the rear passenger door with the other
and swung it open so hard that I thought I might bust the hinges. I realized as
I clambered in that the door should have been locked.

I’d
been wrong. Bonnie hadn’t been safe at all.

Diving
into the vehicle like a graceless swan, I landed on top of the gun. The butt of
it jabbed into my stomach. I expected Ranger to follow in after me. He didn’t.
There was no brush of fur and burned skin against my legs. I felt a whoosh of
air as the Hummer’s door was pulled closed. Bonnie’s body was stretched over
the front seat, her hand still resting on the door she’d yanked inward.

“You
didn’t have all the doors locked!” I gasped, my chest rising and falling
erratically.

“Good
thing or you wouldn’t have been able to get in quickly,” she stammered.

I
pushed her out of the way and shoved the combat lock into place just as the Z girl
from the roof slammed its body into the rear passenger door. Bonnie had
retreated to the front seat, her body pushed against the dash as her eyes
stared at the Z girl shoving her bloody face against the glass.

“What
about Ranger? We can’t leave him out there alone,” Bonnie’s voice quavered. Her
eyes had moved from the Z to stare at the combat lock I’d just bolted; the one
she’d consciously or unconsciously forgotten to lock.

“He’ll
be fine, Bonnie. He’s more equipped to fight them than we are.”

Her only
response was a quick nod. It was not brimming with trust in my words.

Outside,
Ranger was moving away from the Hummer, trying to draw the rest of the horde
away. I worried that he would be overwhelmed. It was amazing that he’d fought
them off for so long. He was only one dog. One amazing dog. But only one.

It was
like Mighty Mouse against a sea of alley cats.

Fumbling
with the rifle, I tried to get another magazine in place. Twice it dropped out,
and I cursed at it like it wasn’t operator error. Once it was in, held tight
and ready to be deadly once more, I breathed. I didn’t want to leave the vehicle,
didn’t want to re-enter perdition, but I had to—for Ranger. “Lock the door
behind me. You hear me? This time, I want them
all
bolted.”

“Gin,
don’t go out there again.”

“You
think I want to? I’m basically messing my pants here.”

The
young girl frowned at me, her face wrinkled and worried. “Don’t leave me all
alone, okay?”

I knew
what that meant. She was telling me not to die.

“I’m a
doctor. If I get hurt, I’ll patch myself up. Promise.”

Because
that’s what I was.
A doctor.
Not a killer. Not a soldier.

But
when the world becomes a cycle of killing or being killed, then you have to
adapt—even if that means changing in the worst way possible. I didn’t want to
change, for worse or better.

I took
a deep breath before re-opening the passenger door.

Ranger
and the following mass of zombies were quite far away now. I needed him to
separate from them. I didn’t want to risk hurting him. Whistling low, I watched
the dog’s ears perk up, but he didn’t look my way. I whistled low again. I
didn’t want to be too loud, draw them back here and ruin all of his hard work.

Come
on, Ranger. Just hear me. Get the hell out of the way and let me help you now.

But he
didn’t. He kept playing cat-and-mouse with the Z’s until he rounded a corner
and all of them were out of sight.

I
stood there like an idiot for a long time. Part of me hoped that JW would never
come back—because if he did, and his loyal companion had died because we hadn’t
listened to him and stayed in the hotel, then I knew we wouldn’t need Z kids to
kill us.

The
longer I waited for Ranger to appear, the more moisture built in my eyes. It
was ultimately my fault. If we’d just stayed put in the suite…if we hadn’t
gotten cocky and decided to take matters into our own hands. I couldn’t even
think about Chris now. All I could think about was that stupid dog, that stupid
and heroic dog. When the tears finally began to stream down my face, they were
unstoppable, acidic things that burned my skin. Salty and unyielding.

So…I
almost truly soiled myself when Ranger jumped onto the hood of the Hummer and
startled the crap out of me. “Ranger! Oh, thank God!”

The
self-satisfied look on the dog’s face as he looked at me was picture-worthy. It
seemed to say—
No need to waste bullets, woman. I got this. Easy-peasy.
I
wanted to hug the animal, but I didn’t get the chance. Bonnie beat me to it,
exiting her safe haven with bounding enthusiasm.

“Oh,
Ranger, I knew you wouldn’t die.” She hugged him tightly and whispered into his
scarred and hairless neck. She had to step on her tippy toes to reach him atop
the hood. “You’re just the best dog ever.” He grunted in satisfaction and
seemed to push harder against the girl to assure her that he wouldn’t ever let
her down.