Xander held his hand out to her, she grabbed hold of it and he helped to pull her onto the toppled wall. Something beneath them crunched and a low howl erupted. She felt no sympathy for whoever it was; all of her sympathy for these creatures had been left on the side of the road with Bobby's body. These demented sick people were too far gone for them to be saved, and in a fight to the death, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure they all survived, even if it meant literally stepping onto some of the sick ones to do it.
She kept hold of Xander's hand as Carl flung open the broken door they had entered through. Light spilled in to illuminate the store and the half a dozen or so creatures coming at them. Toppling the wall had initially thrown them off but they were recovering rapidly. Carl spun away from the door and started firing his gun. She didn't know if he was aiming at anything or simply trying to deter the monsters she could feel closing in on them.
A thud and squeal indicated that he'd hit someone but she could practically feel them breathing down her neck as Josh fell through the doorway with John close on his heels. Xander tugged on her hand, pulling her before him. She didn't have time to protest before he shoved her out the door.
The debris and bodies pinned beneath it had created a three-foot drop to the outside that she hadn't been expecting. She fell forward, smacking her already bruised knees and right elbow off of the pavement. Putting her hand beneath her, she pushed herself to the side, rolling out of the way in time to avoid Xander and Carl as they jumped out of the doorway behind her.
Riley caught a glimpse of three of those things almost in the doorway before Xander spun and slammed the door shut. Carl pressed his back against the door with him, both of their shoulders heaved from the force of their rapid breaths. Riley pushed herself to her feet, she wasn't as swift to recover this time but she limped rapidly toward the dumpster.
"No," Carl grunted as those things banged loudly against the door behind him. They managed to push the door open almost an inch before Xander and Carl were able to shove it shut again. "Not this time. John, Riley, get against the door."
Riley was confused by the command but she changed direction and added her weight to the door with John. "Just hold on for a few minutes more," Carl told them and scurried out from underneath them.
Xander slid up the door beside her as he rose to his feet. Angry grunts and animalistic sounds came from the other side of the door. The sick humans continued to beat and shove against it. She could almost feel the resentment and frustration emanating from them as their nails raked down the door in a screeching sound that made her teeth clench and her ears ring.
The door pushed open again, fingers curled around the edge of the door just inches from her face. Her eyes crossed as the filthy, bloody tips crept closer to her nose. Blood dripped from where the fingernails had been torn from their beds. "Carl!" she screamed when the weight of the bodies inside began to push the door further open.
Her back strained; her legs and bruised knees screamed in protest as more pressure was placed against them. She had no idea how much longer she would be able to keep this up before her body gave way beneath the weight. A strong whiff of gas filled her nose when Carl appeared by her side again.
Raising his gun, he fired into the hand just centimeters away from her nose. Blood burst from the back of the palm and sprayed her in the face. She blinked it away from her eyes as a howl erupted from inside and the hand hastily jerked away. Carl turned his gun, aimed inside, and released a rapid series of shots into the building. The door crashed shut with a thud but she wasn't fooled into thinking those things weren't going to come back.
"Get the dumpster now," Carl commanded gruffly.
Riley had no idea what he planned to do but she hurried over to the dumpster and got behind it. Josh looked like he was about to drop as he jogged over to help her, but he put his good shoulder against the dumpster and helped her push it toward the door. Another thud sounded against the door from inside the store and loud shouts began to emanate from inside. Carl had managed to get those things to move away for a little bit but they were already back. She had no doubt that some of them were already trying to get out of the store through one of the other doors in an attempt to circle around and come at them.
"We have to go," she panted as they succeeded in pushing the dumpster over near the door.
"We will," Carl assured her. She spotted the source of the gas smell when he brought forth a bottle with a rag hanging out of it. He must have filled it from the gas cans in the back of the truck. "Give me your gun."
She handed him her gun and took hold of his. He stepped away from the door, inched it open, and discharged another round of shots into the building. He dropped the empty gun on the ground, lit the end of the rag and tossed the bottle into the building. "Dumpster!" he barked.
Riley threw her shoulder into the dumpster to push it the last few feet toward the door. John and Xander jumped forward to slam it into the door with her and Josh. Carl snatched her empty gun off the ground and pushed John toward the truck. "What did you do?" John demanded as they ran toward the vehicles.
"No one is walking into that trap again," Carl huffed as he ran.
Riley prayed that was true as she wiped the blood away from her face with the back of her forearm. She glanced over her shoulder, but she couldn't see any smoke or flames coming from the building yet. Opening the door, she slid behind the steering wheel of the car and turned it over. Xander hopped into the passenger side and Josh slumped into the back. Carl slammed the doors on the back of the truck closed and locked them before running to the driver's side.
A tendril of smoke curled out from the backdoor as she shifted the car into drive and slammed on the gas. The tires squealed on the pavement but she didn't ease up on the gas. Smoke curled up behind them, the smell of burning rubber filled the air. The car fishtailed before finally gripping hold of the pavement. She kept her foot on the floor and sped toward the corner of the building. One of the sick ones burst out from the corner of the building and threw themselves at the car. Riley swerved the car at them and clipped them with the left front fender. It was childish of her, but she couldn't stop herself from slamming her middle finger against the window as the person bounced away from the car.
She didn't look away from the rearview mirror as the body fell beneath the tires of the truck. Turning her attention back to the parking lot she sped across the empty spaces and down the back hill toward the fast food restaurant. She didn't know where she was going but she didn't dare ease up on the gas as smoke began to rise into the air behind them.
CHAPTER 22
Carl,
"Are you ok?" Carl demanded of John.
He glanced over at his friend but didn't dare take his eyes off the road for more than a second as they raced down crowded streets that he didn't recognize. They blew past an exit ramp he believed they should have taken to get back toward the racetrack and camp, but an overturned box truck and some cars blocked the ramp. In the car before them, Xander was turned around in his seat, trying to work on Josh as Riley zipped expertly in and out of the abandoned vehicles congesting the road.
"Are you ok?" he demanded again.
John's eyes were almost bugging out of his head as he turned his hand over to stare at the chunk that had been torn from the fleshy part of it. Carl didn't think it would ever be fleshy again as the skin and muscle had been torn off nearly to the bone from his pinky knuckle to his wrist.
"It bit me." John said as he continued to stare at his hand. "That bastard bit me!"
"Yes I know, I saw. Are you ok?"
"What the fuck? I mean what the fuck!" John shouted as he stared at the blood oozing out of the gaping bite mark.
"We have to get that cleaned up, now."
John was pale as he lifted his head to look at him. There were shadows under his sunken and frightened eyes. Then his mouth dropped and his good hand went to his head. "It bit me," he muttered. He rubbed at his forehead as he stared at
the blood trickling down his arm. Carl didn't know if it was shock over the bite or over what might happen to him, but John just sat there and stared at the bloody mess.
Riley made an abrupt right at a set of lights. Carl had thought she'd been traveling too fast to make it around the turn but the car didn't even skid. She was forced to ease back on her speed in order to navigate the car over the bricks in the center of the road that was more of a hump dividing the two-lane road from another two-lane road. Carl followed her over the hump in order to avoid a cluster of abandoned cars.
Brick and wooden storefronts, restaurants, and a large town hall came into view. Along with the buildings came the realization that they had to get off of this road. There were too many vehicles blocking the way, light poles had toppled up ahead and a brick store had crumbled into the road. But more than that, as they drove by a pink diner, numerous heads popped up over the top of the brick wall. Multiple eyes peered out at them from the drawn and battered faces behind the broken diner windows.
"Hold on," Carl said and slammed on the gas.
The tires of the truck squealed, John was thrust back against his seat as the truck lurched forward, but he had to get ahead of Riley and off of this road. He had a feeling if they didn't leave this area of town soon they would become trapped between the vehicles and the people now walking down the steps of the diner and coming out from behind the other buildings lining the road.
Down the street, he saw more heads popping up above the vehicles congested through the roadway. A few of the sick people fell as they made their way forward and sprawled on the pavement. Carl found himself riveted on the sight as two of them turned on the fallen ones. Squeals that had nothing to do with the truck tires filled the air but he finally caught up to Riley.
He slammed his hand against his window when Xander glanced at him. He pointed at a road coming up on their left. A set of lights had fallen across the road but the poles had fallen along the sidewalks instead of across the roadway that ran in between a bank and a middle school. On the inside of him, Riley made the turn onto the road first. Carl yanked the wheel sharply, sending John into the dashboard with enough force that the air exploded from his lungs. Riley dropped further back to allow him to take the lead.
More heads could be seen in the windows of the school and some of the heads of the sick people lying on the lawn of the school lifted. Though their heads lifted, little else of them did and their heads fell limply onto the ground again. At first he'd assumed that was simply where the sick had decided to curl up and sleep, but looking at them he began to realize that something more was going on with them.
"I'll be," he whispered. In his mirror he could see some of the sick trying to follow them but they were falling further back as they sped down the road. "I think they're dying."
John pushed himself off the dashboard and slumped into his seat. "What?" he asked.
Carl glanced over at him as he eased the truck to a more reasonable speed on the windy back road. Beads of sweat trickled down John's pallid cheeks, the purse of his mouth told Carl he was doing everything he could not to throw up. They had to get out of this truck and do something about his hand before John passed out.
"They're dying," Carl said again. "Or at least they appear to be. We have to find somewhere to stop."
John shook his head and braced his hand on the dash. "We have to get as far from them, and that store, as we possibly can."
"We've put a fair amount of distance between us. We have to stop. At the very least we have to get that cleaned up and the bleeding stopped. For you and Josh." John glanced at the car in his side mirror and gave a brief nod. "Plus I'd prefer it if you didn't vomit in the truck."
"Me too," John muttered as he bowed his head.
Carl glanced in his mirror again, he didn't see any of the sick back there but he still went a couple of miles before pulling the truck into an empty lot on the right hand side of the road. They climbed a small hill and drove past the remains of some concrete blocks buried beneath the overgrown grass. There were charred marks on the blocks that stood testimony to whatever had once stood on the open lot. He drove to the edge of the woods line, turned the truck around and parked it five feet away from the trees.
Even if someone came up the driveway, there were plenty of ways for them to escape the lot without having to return to the pavement of the drive. To the left of them were nothing but woods and power lines. To the right was a swimming pool and a grouping of at least thirty bungalows. There was one large building in the center of the bungalows, apparently the main meetinghouse or something, around the property stood a six-foot high chain link fence. Carl had no idea what the property was, if it was a camp or something, but he kept a wary eye on it as he shifted the truck into park and turned it off.
There was enough open space between them and the bungalows that they would be able to see anyone approaching them from there, but they wouldn't see someone hiding inside the buildings, possibly with guns. He braced himself for the possibility of getting shot before opening his door and climbing out. The breeze tugged at his hat as he scanned the buildings but the only thing he saw amongst them was a scrap of garbage blowing across the pool area before getting caught up in the fence.
He turned when the backdoors opened on the truck and Riley jumped into the back. Turning away from the bungalows, he walked to the end of the truck. "How's Josh?" he inquired of Xander when he appeared around the other side of the truck.
"He'll be ok if we can get the bleeding stopped. That thing took a chunk out of him."
Carl nodded and turned to look back at the buildings. There were so many places for eyes to be staring out at them from, but if any of the sick people were over there, they would already be coming forward, that much he knew. Xander reached into the truck and grabbed a black t-shirt from the tumbled pile near the back doors. He pulled it over his head and tugged it into place. Riley jumped out of the truck with an armload of bandages, peroxide, rubbing alcohol, some hand towels, and a bottle of aspirin.
"Can you find me some needle and thread?" she asked briskly of Xander before turning to John. She winced as she studied his hand before handing out a couple of bottles and some bandages to Carl. "You take care of him and I'll get Josh."
Carl nodded as he took the supplies from her. John looked at him like he was carrying an armful of scorpions when he approached him with a bottle of peroxide. "Let me see your hand," Carl commanded.
"All of the medicine's at the camp," John said. "You're just wasting supplies on me. We'll never make it back in time to take anything to help us."
Carl couldn't bring himself to look at John as he uttered those words. They'd lost so many already but he didn't know how he would take losing John. The kid grated on his nerves more than anyone he'd ever known before, but he was his best friend. Ignoring John's words, he unscrewed the cap on the peroxide and shoved in the protective cover.
"Carl come on," John said. "You guys will need these things, to waste them on us is…"
"You don't know that it's a waste," Xander interrupted briskly as looked over the sideboards at them from the back of the truck. "I was bit and I'm fine."
John turned to look at him. "But you were able to get some medicine into you. Those pills are at the camp, we're not making it back there before nightfall and we're not going to travel at night. Not for any one. Risking all our lives is complete stupidity."
"That medicine could have just been a coincidence. My leg could have been infected."
"And this won't get infected?" John demanded and thrust his hand at Xander.
"Not if you let me clean it." Carl grabbed hold of his hand and jerked it toward him. Before John could protest he dumped half the bottle over the bloody mess of his hand. "They're not zombies John, they die, they stay dead, and they are dying."
John's eyes burned into his when he lifted his head to look at him. "Aren't we all?"
"Not today," Carl said fiercely. "Not today."
He wiped the
blood away with a hand towel to examine the ragged edges of the wound. The imprint of the teeth was clearly visible on John's flesh. Turning John's hand before him, he realized there wasn't enough flesh left for him to sew closed.
Grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol he twisted the top off of it. "Wait, hey now, the peroxide should be good enough," John protested.
"Do you want this to get infected?" Carl demanded.
"I think I might prefer it to that." John waved a finger at the bottle in Carl's hand.
"You're such a wimp."
"Hey, hey wait! OW!" John protested when he dumped the alcohol over his hand. "Son of a bitch!"
John jerked his hand away from him. Grabbing his wrist he began to jump up and down, cursing as he shook his hand in the air. Carl was trying not to laugh as John's face became the color of a tomato. "You're acting like a baby."
John cursed vehemently at him; he kept hold of his wrist as he bent over and tucked his elbow between his legs. "You enjoyed that."
"A little," Carl admitted.
John shot him a look before bending back over his hand. "That hurt worse than the freak's bite did."
"Let me finish with it."
"No more alcohol."
"No more," Carl promised. He screwed the top back on and placed it on the ground.
Xander jumped out of the truck and headed toward him with a small sewing kit. "Found it," he said.
"That's not going to be any help here, we won't be able to stitch it," Carl told him.
"I'll bring it to Riley."
Xander turned and walked around the back of the truck to wherever Riley stood with Josh. He didn't like the idea that he couldn't see them, or the car from here, but he couldn't be in a position where the bungalows were blocked either. Less blood came away when he dabbed at John's hand with the towel. He grabbed the peroxide again.