Shattered World (Broken World Book 2) (8 page)

“Now!” Axl hisses, breaking through my thoughts.

I was so intent on watching the lumbering bodies closest to us that it almost catches me off guard. But my hand was already on the handle, and it only takes a second to collect myself. I shove the door open so I can hop down. The smell hits me as soon as I’m out. The rancid scent of decay is so strong that my eyes water and my stomach lurches. I focus on not breathing through my nose and shut the car door as quietly as speed will allow before taking off toward the store. Winston and I have to run around the side of the car to reach the door since we’re on the opposite side, and Axl has it open by the time we get there.

I rush inside, joining Trey in the darkness. He has a flashlight in his hand and he’s standing in the doorway with it shining into the store, keeping watch for anything that might be lurking between the shelves. My hands shake as I fumble in my pack, searching for my own flashlight. Why hadn’t I thought to get it out in the car?

Breathing in and out is difficult. The stench inside the store is strong. The smell of rotten meat and produce, on top of the dead that are most certainly wandering the aisles, has mixed together to create an odor so strong and unique that there’s no way to even describe it. It makes my eyes water. Even breathing through my mouth doesn’t help. I can taste it. It leaves a film in my mouth that feels thick and sticky. Rotten. I pull the collar of my t-shirt up over my nose and mouth, desperate to diminish the stench.

Axl and Winston join us after moving two rows of shopping carts to block the doors. The tension between us is as strong as the smell in the store. It’s dark in here, and there are almost no windows to help us see. The further back we get, the more dangerous things will be.

“Now what?” I ask. Even though I whisper, the sound of my voice cutting through the silence makes me jump.

“We should do a sweep first,” Winston whispers. “Try to hunt any down so we can load up on goods without any surprises.”

“Yeah. That sounds good. That way we can check out the other doors too. Make sure nothin’s open.” Axl’s still nodding in agreement when he steps forward. “Stick together.”

I swallow and follow him with my shirt still up over my nose. I have no intention of wandering off.

We make it halfway through the store—to the center where all the clothes are on display—before we spot the first body. Its back is to us, but it turns as soon as the beam from Winston’s flashlight is on him.

It used to be a him, anyway. Now he’s a mindless body with only one eye. He opens his mouth and chomps at us as he walks forward. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt and there are bite marks on his arms. He must have gotten bitten and came in here to hide. Maybe he was like us and hoped he wouldn’t turn from the bites. That this outbreak of the living dead was nothing like the ones Hollywood had depicted over and over again. He was wrong, of course, just like we were.

The body stumbles a little as he walks forward, almost falling down. But he rights himself and raises his arms. His hands grip the air as he moves forward. Reaching for us. Axl doesn’t let him get close. Without saying anything, he walks over to meet the body, swiping his hunting knife through the air and sinking it into the skull. It squishes in, spewing out black stuff that splatters onto the table of shirts next to them. The body collapses, and Axl uses the clothes to clean the blade of his knife before turning back to us.

“They’re decaying fast,” I say through the fabric of my shirt. “Maybe they’ll just waste away?” It comes out as a question. Like I want someone to reassure me that everything will in fact be okay. As if they know more than I do.

“We can only hope,” Winston mutters as he starts moving forward again.

We head to the back of the store as planned. We don’t encounter any other bodies along the way, but the place is huge. We could have missed them. I just hope we don’t have any surprises down the road.

The back room is packed to the ceiling with the store’s excess inventory. Just the sight of it fills me with hope. If we can find a truck, we can load it up with canned and boxed food, and we’ll be set for years. They have everything we need at Sam’s.

It’s bright, but it takes my mind a minute to register why.

“Door’s wide open,” Axl says before I have a chance.

He’s right. The door to the delivery bay is open, filling the room with light. It’s one of those huge, silver, metal doors that slide up on a track. It’s electric. Is it even possible to get it shut when the power’s off?

Axl walks over to inspect the door, and we follow him. I’m gripping the handle of my knife so tight my hand aches, but with the door open like this, I’m nervous and jumpy. Every little sound makes my heart race even faster, and right now there are a lot of them. Birds outside chirp, and a can blows across the empty parking lot. What sounds like a flag flaps in the distance. It’s all causing my anxiety level to shoot through the roof.

“Shit! Take a look at this,” Axl calls out.

I almost jump out of my skin, and I swear my heart actually stops beating for a second, but I tell myself to cool it and walk closer to him. He isn’t looking at the doors anymore. He’s staring outside, and when I get next to him I see why. There’s a truck. A delivery truck with its doors wide open. It’s already half full.

“What do you think the odds are that it has gas and keys?” Winston asks with a huge smile on his face.

“Don’t know,” Axl says as he jumps down. “Only one way to find out.”

We all follow him, and I glance around nervously once we’re outside. We’re at the back of the store and it seems clear. No bodies and very little stench. I rip my shirt off my nose and take a deep breath. There’s still a hint of decay in the air, but it’s faint. A hell of a lot better than it was inside.

I follow Axl to the front of the truck while Winston climbs in the back to check it out. Trey hangs back, scanning the area with a tense expression on his face. The driver side door is wide open. Axl pulls himself inside, while I stay below to keep a lookout. It would be too good to be true if this thing was gassed and ready for us to drive back to the shelter. Much too good.

I wait for Axl to tell me what’s going on, nervously shifting from foot to foot. My eyes never stop moving. Never stop scanning the area. I find myself sniffing the air. If they’re coming, the smell will give them away.

“Somebody’s lookin’ out for us,” Axl says.

I look up at him, and he’s got a huge smile on his face. He holds up a set of keys, and I want to jump for joy.

“And the tank’s full,” he says, hopping down.

“Can we drive it? I mean, don’t you have to take a special class to drive a truck like this?”

“We’ll figure it out. Not like we’re gonna hit traffic.”

He has an excellent point. Right now, I’d try to fly a rocket if I thought it would get us to safety.

We head back toward the store and find Trey and Winston waiting for us.

“Keys and gas,” I tell them.

Axl jingles the keys. “Don’t suppose either of you knows how to drive a semi?”

Winston nods, and I feel like kissing him. “I worked for the San Francisco Fire Department for over twenty years. I drove the truck.”

“Told ya somebody was lookin’ out for us,” Axl says, winking at me.

8

I SHOVE A MASS OF DAMP hair out of my face and wipe my brow. My body is covered in sweat. At this point, I probably smell as bad as the store. It’s late morning now, and the Las Vegas sun is sweltering despite the fact that it’s fall. The smell in the store gets more intense as the minutes tick by. More than once, I’ve had to stop because my stomach keeps threatening to empty all its contents onto the floor.

We’re moving as fast as we can. Working in teams of two, filling wheeled flatbeds with boxes of cereal and cans of soup. We’ve gotten everything from huge bags of flour to packs of toilet paper. Anything we may need in the near future. We’ve been at it for hours, although it feels more like days. The truck is nearly full now. My arms ache from loading the carts and pulling the flatbeds, and my neck is tense from constantly looking over my shoulder. Amazingly, we haven’t come across any other bodies.

I pull the cart toward the dock, trying to ignore the sweat that trickles down my back. The cart is loaded down with stuff I found in the baby aisle. It reminded me of Sophia when I saw it. Wipes and boxes of diapers in every size are crammed on. After this, I’m going for the clothes. She’ll need all of it in about six months.

Axl is right next to me, lugging a cart full of canned goods. It probably weighs twice as much as mine.

“Truck’s getting pretty full,” Winston says when we finally get to the back.

“We can get still get more,” Axl says.

He’s so determined. I admire it.

I shift from foot to foot while the men unload the flatbeds. I can go get more. We should stick together, though. It’s stupid to wander off. But we’ve been in the store for hours. If there were other bodies walking around we’d have seen them by now. Right?

“I’m going for clothes,” I say. “For the baby and the kids. They’ll need new stuff, and the condos don’t seem to have a whole lot.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Axl says, but he barely pauses. He’s dripping with sweat, and his face is streaked with dirt from handling all the boxes. I probably look the same.

“I’ll be okay. This place seems pretty clear.”

Axl shakes his head, but he keeps unloading the cart. Trey’s on the ground, and he takes the box from Axl before handing it to Winston, who is in the truck. They have a nice rhythm going, and it’s pointless for me to just stand here watching.

“I’ll be careful,” I whisper.

He pauses for just a second and purses his lips. “Promise me.”

The words wrap around my heart and squeeze it so hard that I almost have to gasp for air. I have the sudden urge to kiss him, but he’s back to unloading the cart before I can even respond. His eyes are still on me though, waiting for my response.

“I promise.”

He nods, and I head back out into the store. I find a shopping cart sitting in an aisle, full of food from the refrigerators and freezers that went bad a week ago. I pick them up and the boxes squish in my hands. They’re soft from when the frozen food thawed out, and the cheese is almost completely green. I gag as I toss them aside.

When the cart is empty, I head to the center of the store where the clothes are. They don’t have a lot, but I grab as many pairs of infant sleepers as I can in every size they have. They’re Carter’s brand, covered in things like frogs and hearts, ducks and princesses. They have some other infant clothing too, so I load up on those. Both boys’ and girls’ clothes, since I have no idea what she’ll need. The other side of the rack has clothes for older kids, so I get some things for Ava before heading to the table next to it and pulling out jeans and shirts I think will fit Jake. If only I could do more.

I move my flashlight around and the beam stops on a huge swing set. Toys. They have toys here, too.

              Before heading that way, I glance over my shoulder. The store still looks clear, and it’s as silent as a tomb. The thought sends a shudder down my spine and I chew on my lip. I should head back, but it would be so nice if the kids had a few books and toys to play with. It won’t take long if I hurry.

I’m rushing when I turn the corner, focused on the swing set looming in the distance. The stench of rot hits me just as my cart slams into the body. My flashlight isn’t pointed in that direction, so it catches me completely by surprise. I scream and grope for my knife as the undead man lurches forward. I shove the cart into him as hard as I can, backing away while I desperately try to get my knife free. The damn thing’s stuck.

“Vivian!”

Axl’s panicked voice echoes through the store. My heart is in my throat, and I can’t force any words out. I stumble back and somehow trip over my own feet, falling to the ground just as I get my knife from its sheath. My elbows slam into the floor. Pain radiates up my arms and the knife slips from my fingers. It skitters across the floor and into the darkness.

My elbows throb. The body in front of me gets around the cart and takes a step closer. The pungent odor of the black ooze is so much stronger and more distinct than the stench in the rest of the store. It’s too dark to get a really good look at him, but I don’t miss the way his hands grope the air in front of me. Reaching for me.

I crawl backward and finally find my voice. “Axl!”

My knife is gone and my gun is in my pack. Back in the loading bay. I’m weaponless, and the body is so close that I get a whiff of his rotting teeth every time he chomps at the air. It takes another step forward, and his foot lands on my toe. I shriek again and jerk my leg back, scrambling further away. My legs won’t cooperate, so I can’t get to my feet. My heart pounds and my mind screams
run!,
but I can’t do anything other than crawl backward.

Axl calls for me again, and my heart pounds harder. He’s getting close. I call to him, praying he finds me or I can get my body to cooperate in some way. The dead man in front of me leans down and wraps his bony fingers around my ankle. I scream and kick, and my foot makes contact with his face. It’s soft and squishy, and my stomach convulses.

The body loses his grasp, and my leg is free. I move back two more paces and bump into someone behind me. My heart pounds and a sob pops out of my mouth when the body is finally illuminated by the beam of a flashlight. His milky eyes move up. A shot rings out, echoing in my ears, and the head of what used to be a man explodes, spraying black goo and decaying flesh all over the surrounding merchandise.

I shake, and tears stream down my face when I look up at Axl. Only it isn’t Axl standing behind me.

The man points the gun at my head. “You bit?”

He’s tall and imposing, standing over me with an expression that could freeze a volcano. He’s in his late twenties, possibly early thirties, and he’s filthy. His blond hair is greasy and matted, clinging to his scalp. He has a thin, blond beard that has grown out of control.

I shake my head, unable to find my voice, and my eyes flit past him as movement catches my attention. He isn’t alone. There are several other people standing in the shadows, but it’s too dark to see how many there are.

“Vivian!” Axl is suddenly there, running down the opposite side of the aisle.

Trey and Winston are behind him, and their guns are gripped tightly in their hands. Axl’s eyes grow huge when he sees the man holding a gun to my head.

“Get the fuck back!” he yells, raising his own gun and aiming it at the man.

“Not until I know she hasn’t been bitten or scratched,” the man responds in a tense voice.

Two other men step forward, flanking him on either side. One is in his late thirties. He has a ratty hat pulled down low, covering most of his face. The other is young, probably only sixteen. They’re both armed, and their eyes are just as icy as the blond man’s.

The men in my group come to a stop next to my shopping cart with the dead body lying on the floor between us.

“We take care of our own,” Winston says.

Axl steps forward and holds his hand out to me, but the blond man stops him. “If she tries to walk away, we’ll kill her. We don’t need any more of those things walking around. We have a zero tolerance policy.”

I’m shaking, but I manage to find my voice. It comes out small and squeaky. “I wasn’t bitten.”

The man doesn’t blink, and his finger twitches on the trigger. “We need to be sure. Take your clothes off.”

“Like hell!” Axl growls. He steps over the body and jerks me to my feet. “We ain’t stupid. You think we’re gonna just let you strip search her and not bat an eye? You ain’t touchin’ her!”

The blond man shakes his head and doesn’t lower his gun. “I won’t touch her. I won’t take a step closer to her. I just want to be sure she’s clean. We’ve been fooled before.”

I’m shaking and Axl is gripping my arm so tightly that he’s sure to leave a bruise, but it’s clear this guy is serious. He fully intends to kill me if I try to walk away. Maybe he’s making it his personal mission to clean out the city, or maybe he’s just seen too many people ripped apart by the undead to stomach seeing someone else turn. Even a stranger. Either way, he’s prepared to kill me in order to stop me from turning.

“I’ll do it,” I manage to get out. “I’ll take my clothes off to prove to you I’m okay.”

“No!” Axl says through clenched teeth.

“It’s okay.” I put my hand on his, the one holding my arm, and slowly loosen his grip until I’m free. “It’s okay.”

I turn back to the blond man and meet his eyes. “If you move, he will shoot you.”

The man nods but doesn’t say anything. This isn’t some crazy guy out trying to get his jollies. I’ve seen that type a lot in my line of work. They flock to strip clubs in hordes. This guy just wants to protect his people and probably me. Maybe he’s going about it in a crazy way, but I can’t fault him for that. This world is crazy now.

I pull my shoes off with shaky hands and toss them aside so I can remove my pants. Once they’re off, I pull my shirt over my head and drop it on the ground next to me.

“Put your arms over your head and spin around so we can see you,” the blond man says.

I nod and do what he says, raising my arms and turning slowly, giving him the chance to check for any injuries. When my back is to the man, my eyes meet Axl’s. They’re hard, and his jaw is tense. Anger is visible in every muscle of his body, and the hand holding his gun shakes just a little. I keep spinning until I’m facing the man again. When I stop, he nods and lowers his gun. He averts his eyes like he hates he had to put me through that. I believe he did.

“Put your clothes on,” he mutters, still looking away.

The other men in his group lower their guns as well, and I quickly get dressed. No one moves, and the tension surrounding us is so volatile that it’s likely to cause an explosion if I don’t do something fast.

Once my clothes are back on, I turn to the blond man and give him a smile, hoping to relax him. “Thank you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and even in the dark store the color in his cheeks is visible. He swallows and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. It’s just—we’ve seen so many people turn.”

I nod and glance back toward the three men in my group. They’re still tense, and Axl hasn’t lowered his gun yet. “It’s okay,” I say, nodding to Axl before turning back to the men in front of me.

I glance behind him, trying to get an idea of who else is in his group. He motions for the others to step forward. There are four of them. A woman and three children. They’re filthy, and their eyes are wide and full of terror. The woman holds a gun that shakes so badly I doubt she’d be able to hit anything even at point-blank range.

“Are you here looking for supplies? Do you have a safe place to hide?”

The blond man shakes his head and sighs. The sound is worth a million words. “We’ve been moving around, hiding in stores and homes, trying to stay safe. We were out of food though, so we decided to come here and stock up. We just can’t keep running like this. We have to get out of the city.”

The men in my group step forward, and Axl places his hand in the middle of my back. It relaxes me. He’s still tense though, and he’s glaring at the blond man in a way that I know means he’d love to punch him in the face. I give Axl a tight smile and nod to let him know that I’m okay. He doesn’t relax.

“We have a safe place,” Winston says.

The blond man tilts his head to one side and looks us over like he doesn’t believe it can be true. “Where?”

“About an hour outside the city,” I say. “You’re welcome to come. We have room.”

“Can we trust them?” the older man next to him says, speaking for the first time. He pulls the hat off his head and scratches his scalp. He’s slight, and his hair is dark and thinning. The skin on his face sags. He looks weary and exhausted like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

The blond guy runs a filthy hand through his hair and sighs again. “Do we have a choice? We’re going to die if we stay here. Hell, most of us already have.”

He glances behind him at the woman, and she nods. Her eyes are huge, and there are tears on her cheeks. She looks just as exhausted as the man.

He turns back toward us and nods. “I’m Nathan, and this is Brad.” He points to the older man on his left before turning to the teen on his right. “And Jhett.” He turns around and pulls the woman and kids forward. “This is my wife, Moira, and our daughter Liz.”