Chapter Seventeen
Consequences
The moaning became all that Riley knew. With her eyes closed, the zombies’ incessant, hungry pleas filled her ears. How bad would getting ripped apart and eaten alive be? Her ankle had been a testament, she guessed, to the degree of anguish that was to befall her. How could she go out like this? She couldn’t and she knew the solution: a bullet to her own brain. Opening her eyes, the wall of undead had drawn closer, their stench overpowering.
She turned her rifle around so that the barrel pointed toward her chest. She raised it up under her chin and reached for the trigger. Despair further delved into her soul as she realized her arms weren’t long enough to reach the trigger. She would have to rig something and there wasn’t going to be enough time. She closed her eyes again after placing the rifle beside her.
The moaning grew louder, much, much louder as if the undead were coming at her from behind too. Was that possible? The moaning from behind her became more of a rumble—no, an exertion of machinery. That wasn’t the sound of zombies. Riley spun around, her ankle reminding her how incredibly stupid she’d been, and saw what she hoped would be her salvation: a pair of vehicle headlights.
The vehicle was approaching rapidly and Riley was worried it might run her over. Getting to her feet, ignoring the pain as best she could, she began waving her arms above her head. The vehicle, which she now believed was a truck of some kind from the sound of its engine, kept coming fast. Maybe the driver had no intention of stopping for her, no matter her plight. With the mass of zombies blocking the road, the driver would need all the momentum to carry the truck through the horde. Not sure what to do, Riley began hobbling toward the woods.
Reaching soft dirt and wild brush where the asphalt ended, she began limping along the side of the road and in the direction of the vehicle. If the truck passed her by and plowed through enough undead, disabling them, maybe she’d have a chance.
Staggering along, she watched as the truck began to slow, before swerving to the side of her. It was the Milners’ red pickup truck. The passenger door swung open. “Get your ass in here, now!” Joanne yelled.
Relief flooded through Riley, her body almost collapsing from the release of pressure. She was going to be saved.
She began hobbling toward the truck. Joanne was looking over her shoulder at the coming horde. “Come on girl!” The pain was piercing, as if someone was stabbing her in the ankle with each step. Looking to her left, Riley saw that the zombies were within a few feet of the truck. A runner had broken out of the group.
Reaching the truck’s door, she tossed the rifle inside, placed her knee on the inside of the cab, and grabbed onto Joanne’s outstretched arm. The woman held onto Riley’s forearm, Joanne’s grip like a steel vise of absolute power. She was hauled into the truck and onto the passenger seat. With the door still open and her feet protruding from the cab, the truck lunged forward, but not before Riley felt something tugging at her left foot.
“One’s got me!” she yelled. “Help, Joanne.”
“Hold on,” Joanne hollered, slamming on the brakes, sending Riley sliding off the seat and out of the zombie’s grasp. Then she hit the gas again, sending the truck tearing forward and leaving the zombie behind. “Get up off the floor, pull your feet in and shut the door.”
Riley, grimacing through the pain, climbed from the floor to the seat. “Seat belt,” Joanne said, angrily. Riley managed to get the pack off her back before clicking on her seat belt.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Joanne screamed. Riley had never seen the woman looking so haggard, even during their escape from the city. Her hair was disheveled and her skin was lined with sweat. Riley didn’t know what to say. She was a conundrum of emotions: relief, shame, pain, joy, sadness. “Well?” Joanne asked and when Riley remained silent, gathering her wits, Joanne continued. “We love you, Riley. Why would you want to leave us?”
“I… I was planning on coming back,” Riley said.
“When?”
“A couple of days… As long as…” she trailed off.
“As?”
The truck took a sharp turn, the large tires screeching on the wet pavement. Riley thought Joanne was driving a little erratic and hoped the woman would calm down a bit, but she could understand her angst.
“As long as I didn’t become a zombie,” Riley answered, her tone somber, and barely audible over the truck’s engine. The truck hit a bump in the road, jostling her and her ankle, sending a painful reminder of what she’d done.
“Damn it, Riley. Don’t tell me you…”
“I did,” she said quickly. “I had to know.” Joanne turned on Riley, a medley of horror, anger and disappointment evident on her face. “Look out!” Riley screamed, pointing ahead.
A group of deer had darted out of the woods and were crossing the road. The first two animals made it across safely, but a few others were blocking the road. Joanne was driving way too fast to stop in time. She tried swerving in between the group of deer, but they were too close together—their natural instinct to appear bigger to any prey. Riley held her arms out, bracing for impact.
The truck struck one of the deer head-on. The thud was solid, sending a jolt through the entire vehicle. Riley thought they’d collided with a boulder. She watched as the animal flipped up, spinning, onto the truck’s hood. Its legs flailed about wildly as it slid into the windshield. Its weight sent cracks throughout the glass as the deer’s body rolled up and out of view.
Joanne had lost control of the steering, but quickly gripped the wheel and tugged it to the left. The truck swerved, sending Riley’s head smashing into the passenger window. “Hold on!” Joanne yelled.
Riley, the pain in her leg forgotten for the moment, watched as the truck headed off the road, the forest fast approaching. The front tires caught on something, sending the truck into a sideways slide, landing with a rocking crash into the ditch alongside the road. Riley’s seat belt dug into her neck like a blade.
Suddenly all the commotion ceased. The only sounds Riley heard were the crinkling of car parts as the wreck settled. She was leaning sideways in her seat, the truck at an angle, her seat belt keeping her from falling onto Joanne.
Riley looked down and saw Joanne. She had shattered window fragments in her hair and on her face. Small cuts appeared along her cheeks, neck and forehead. Her eyes were closed, her body limp.
Riley’s neck stung where the seat belt sliced into her. Using her fingers, she touched the injured area to assess the bleeding. It wasn’t bad as her fingers were hardly smeared. She’d be fine, but she needed to help Joanne.
“Joanne,” Riley said, hoping to stir her awake. “Joanne.” The woman didn’t answer. Looking at her chest, Riley saw that she was breathing and felt a small amount of tension disperse.
This was all Riley’s fault. Even leaving at night, without informing anyone and she still managed to hurt the ones she loved. It seemed like life was easier at times when she was alone and no one knew of her existence. But none of that mattered now; her thoughts were ridiculous. She loved having Joanne and Eric in her life and wouldn’t trade them for the world, but at the same time she had to do what she did. Damn, life was so screwed up sometimes.
Holding onto the strap to keep from falling, she unbuckled her seat belt. The truck’s incline wasn’t too steep, so keeping herself from sliding into Joanne wasn’t a problem. “Joanne,” she said again. “Joanne, wake up.” The woman began to stir, letting out a groan.
“Riley?” she muttered.
“Joanne, you’re okay.”
Joanne opened her eyes. “Well this can’t be good.”
“We’ll be okay. We crashed.”
“Damn deer,” she said. Riley smiled. Joanne craned her neck and began moving, pieces of glass and debris falling off of her. “We need to get out of here. The zombies… They’ll be coming.”
“This far?”
“If they have trackers among them, which I’m sure they do, they’ll still be able to catch our scent. We aren’t really that far from them and the road is unobstructed—an easy trail for them to follow.”
Riley climbed out of the passenger window. She grunted with each painful movement, but managed.
From her view above, Riley saw Joanne’s face begin to glisten with blood as the liquid life flowed from a gash in her scalp. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” Joanne said, gathering up supplies that tumbled to her side of the car.
“Looks kind of serious.” Riley had seen a lot of wounds and a lot of blood. Joanne’s wound was gushing.
Wiping at her face, clearing the blood away from her eyes, Joanne said, “Head wounds bleed a lot.” She felt through her hair until she came across the cut. “Hurts like a bitch, but it’s not deep. I’ll be fine.”
Joanne handed the bag she’d brought with her and Riley’s backpack to Riley, along with two handguns. “Now help pull my old ass up.” Riley reached as far into the car as her arms would go and helped Joanne out of the window.
“Now what?” Riley asked, staring at the slanted-in-a-ditch truck. “I can’t walk too well on my leg.”
“Let’s see it,” Joanne told her.
“No.”
“Riley, what the hell’s the matter with you?” Joanne asked, taken aback. “It might be broken.”
“It’s not,” Riley said, looking down at the wet roadway, shame evident in her tone. “It’s where…” the words were caught in her throat for a moment, but she managed to get them out. “It’s where I was bitten.” She looked up at Joanne.
The woman’s eyes widened, her stare intense. “You actually went through with it?”
Riley looked away from the woman that had become a mother to her. She wasn’t ashamed of her decision. No, it was something she’d do again. How could she have known the zombie would take more flesh than she wanted to give? And what were the chances a mass of undead would come ambling down a lone back road? “I’m sorry I got you into this. And I’m sorry I ruined the truck.” She felt tears coming on, breathed deep and fought to hold them back.
“Riley,” Joanne said, laying a tender hand on her shoulder. “I’d love to discuss this mess with you, but we’ve got to get moving.”
Joanne helped Riley put on the backpack, stuffing the two handguns into her own pants. “And I pray that you don’t turn and that the Hag was correct and you really are special. I can’t explain what happened to you the first time you were bitten, but…” she turned her back and began walking in the direction of the house, “if you begin to turn, I’ll shoot you myself.”
Riley was stunned, as if slapped in the face by Joanne’s harsh words. But she knew the woman was right in saying so. Joanne had a son to protect and that meant keeping him as well as herself from harm’s way. And if Riley did become a zombie, she wouldn’t be any different than the rest of the undead. She picked up her rifle and Joanne’s bag. Wincing with each hobbled step, she followed Joanne down the road.
Chapter Eighteen
War Zone and Miracles
Riley’s entire leg was burning with pain, but Joanne refused to stop and Riley didn’t want to cause a problem by resting. She pushed through the hurt.
They walked for what seemed an eternity. There was no sign of the undead, but Riley knew that didn’t mean they weren’t coming.
An hour later they arrived at the house. Riley began wondering if maybe they had driven far enough away, and that the sniffers wouldn’t be able to track them.
“Might’ve gotten lucky with the zombies,” Joanne said, as if reading Riley’s mind, as she and Riley huffed up the stairs to the house. They each took a minute to rest as they collapsed on the couch. “Can’t rest long. Just in case.”
Riley limped to a first aid kit in the kitchen. She cleaned her wound again, this time making sure she did a decent job before bandaging it up again. She would have to make sure, if she didn’t turn, to keep the wound clean or the relief of not becoming a zombie wouldn’t matter. Infection could set in and kill her.
Eric was woken up and told they were going into lock-down mode. Weapons and ammo were rounded up and placed in the living room: twenty rifles of various caliber, twelve handguns, two compound bows with forty-two arrows, a dozen grenades, forty sticks of dynamite and ten homemade pipe bombs. The dynamite was found on a construction site not far from the Milners and the grenades were acquired from a damaged military truck sitting off the road in the brush along the Thruway.