Tainted Future (The Rememdium Series Book 3) (12 page)

Interstates 10 and 17 were so crammed with vehicles, some on fire, others full of shredded, rotting corpses, Teresa turned around and headed to the outskirts of Phoenix.

She needed more weapons to survive the nightmare and find Maria. The only place she knew for sure to find some—along with plenty of ammunition—was the old warehouse Roberto owned. The way she figured things, Roberto had probably been on his way there to load up, only to fail.

“Ha! Hope your body looks like Swiss cheese now! No, that would be too easy. I hope those monsters ripped you apart and you were alive long enough to watch them eat you!”

Nerves on edge and mind spinning from too much stimulation, Teresa weaved her way through town, numbed by shock and grief. Never, in all her life, had she seen such awful things. People ran through the streets, chased by the dead. Those who weren’t fast enough, tripped, or simply couldn’t run any longer, were torn apart in seconds.

Part of her wanted to help, yet Teresa knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t a warrior, and only had six bullets in the gun. To survive long enough to find her sister, Teresa had to turn a blind eye to the carnage all around her and stick to the original plan.

Watching people die horrible deaths as they fell victim to the monsters, knowing there wasn’t a thing she could do to help, made Teresa’s heart heavy with sorrow.

She’d spotted several military trucks along the way, panicking each time one came into view. Each time one appeared, Teresa stopped the Navigator and crouched down in the seat. She’d figured if they passed by, they’d assume the SUV was yet another abandoned vehicle and keep going.

That plan worked fine the first three times while Teresa inched her way toward the warehouse. The fourth time almost ended her life.

While stopped as a caravan sped out of town, Teresa peeked out the driver’s window, shocked to see the soldiers leave in such a hurry. She didn’t look at the passenger window until a loud, pounding noise on the glass caught her attention.

Spinning around, Teresa panicked. Two undead things clawed at the window. Fumbling around for the gun in the seat, Teresa bumped into the button controlling the passenger window. Screaming at the top of her voice, she tried to push the button in the opposite direction, but the corpses outside already had their bloody, gory arms inside.

“You won’t stop me from finding my sister!” Teresa yelled, finally latching her fingers around the gun. “You won’t! Go back to Hell!”

Four shots later, the unholy monstrosities disappeared from the window. Deciding to take her chances with the military, Teresa jumped back into the driver’s seat, slammed the gear into drive, and took off.

The military vehicles didn’t seem to notice, so Teresa never stopped again.

In complete and total hysteria, Teresa floored it. She drove over curbs, on sidewalks, ran over dead bodies, not even registering the disgusting sounds as the corpses exploded under the Navigator’s tires. All she could think about was getting more weapons so she could head to the airport and search for Maria. The revolver only had two shots left, and she needed more to fight her way through the hordes of the dead.

It was difficult to make out her location, since the streets were littered with vehicles and bodies. She pushed on, winding through the cluttered streets, tires barking when taking curves too fast.

Finally, she recognized the road leading to the warehouse. Another group of military vehicles blew past her at a blinding pace. Ignoring them, Teresa continued on, stopping only inches from the front door.

Grabbing her bag and keys, Teresa jumped out of the SUV. The terror from before ignited into an inferno of panic when a strange sound made her look up.

Military planes streaked across the bright, afternoon sky. Squinting, she noticed missiles shoot from them, and realized why the soldiers were racing to leave.

“Oh, my God! They’re gonna blow us up!”

Teresa ran at full speed into the building. It was old, made from solid concrete, and she prayed it would offer shelter from the bombs.

She made it halfway inside, the ground shaking underneath her feet as the first bombs exploded outside, then stopped short. “No. No, it can’t be! How? Why? Mi hermana bebé dulce!”

Dropping to her knees, Teresa wept at what was left of Maria. She’d turned into one of the vile monsters. Someone had put a bullet in her head and sliced through her neck and breasts, too. A chunk of rancid flesh hung from Maria’s blue lips, another large piece of skin clamped between her stiff fingers.

Any doubts Teresa had the disgusting mess was Maria, vanished when she noticed the ring.

Turning away from the nightmare, unable to comprehend how Maria ended up on the kill floor, Teresa vomited. While in the middle of puking, mind way past the point of sanity, the building exploded.

Teresa welcomed the end, because the only reason she’d kept going, was already dead.

“God, please, just take me. Now. Even Hell is better than this,” Teresa whimpered. “I don’t want to remember these things while I slowly starve to death!”

Teresa hated passing out, because the haunting images replayed inside her mind. Being awake and remembering them wasn’t any easier, either. She’d given up on surviving and prayed for the sweet release of death. God wasn’t listening, granting her requests to have a heart attack or simply for her blood to stop pumping.

“Please, God. Let me move enough to grab the gun! I’ll gladly face your wrath for taking my own life, rather than wait for one of those monsters to come tear me apart! I don’t want to die the way Maria did. Why? Why did you let this happen to us? To my sweet sister?”

Teresa’s pleas to God where interrupted when she heard a noise. Straining to listen, she realized it was the sound of tires crunching through the debris. The noise stopped, followed by doors opening and footsteps.

Forgetting all about her prayers to die, a spark of hope ignited inside Teresa’s chest. “Help! Please, help me! I’m trapped.”

The footsteps moved faster toward her position. Teresa said a silent prayer, begging God to not let the men be soldiers.

“Prisa! La mujer sigue viva!”

Teresa’s excitement at hearing Spanish made her heart race. “Estoy por aqui. Por favor apurate!”

A man’s face appeared above her head. He stared down, scanning the small space Teresa was crammed in. She thought her heart would explode from her chest with joy. “Miguel!”

“Teresa?”

“Yes! Oh please, help me. My leg, it’s stuck. And water. I need water.”

Miguel’s face disappeared, and the sounds of the others grew fainter. Someone tossed a bottle of water and an apple over the edge. Teresa caught both, alternating between guzzling the cool liquid and tearing out huge chunks of the sweet fruit.

“Any broken bones, Teresa?” Miguel yelled from above.

“I don’t think so. My leg’s trapped, though. I can’t lift the stuff on top of it. Pretty sure it’s just a flesh wound. Hurry, Miguel! I can’t stand being down here another second!”

“Sí, Teresa. Un momento.”

Miguel and the others had moved far enough away so Teresa couldn’t make out their words. For a few seconds, she feared they’d given up and left, until she saw a rope drop from above.

“Hang on, we’re coming,” Miguel said. “You sure you’re okay? We don’t have a doctor up here, and the hospitals are gone.”

“No, I’m fine. Really. Please, hurry!”

Less than four minutes later, Teresa was free from the concrete prison. Miguel and Juan helped her to their vehicle, holding Teresa between them. The soft leather of their SUV was a welcome sensation on her sore, tired body.

Tomas, Miguel’s younger brother, climbed behind the wheel. He glanced at her in the rear view mirror, a crazed, hungry look on his face. Looking down, Teresa realized her shirt was torn, exposing her right breast. Grabbing the edges, she shifted the material.

“Here, mamasita, eat,” Miguel urged. He held out another apple.

“Thank you,” Teresa whispered, snatching the fruit away. She was beyond ravenous. “I can’t believe you all found me! I thought this was it for me.”

Miguel’s hand touched her thigh then squeezed. “Not yet. It will be, however, if you resist.”

“Oh, God, no!” Teresa screamed. On instinct, she fought back, clawing and kicking against Miguel’s body.

Something smashed into the side of her head. Teresa’s vision blurred as blood pounded in her ears. With the last ounce of strength she possessed, Teresa whispered, “Dios , este es el final. La salvación estaba tan cerca.”

Moving. She was moving.

No, she was in a vehicle! The excitement of realizing she was alive, and free from the crumbled building that had been her tomb, made Teresa’s heart pound with joy. She felt the cold leather against her back and legs. And pain. Shooting, burning pain radiated from her left leg. She knew it wasn’t broken, but the deep gash and bruising hurt like crazy. The rest of her body ached as though she’d worked out for twenty-four hours straight.

If she felt movement and pain, she was alive! Her mind was clouded with a mishmash of jumbled thoughts. Teresa’s giddiness waned, because she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or awake. Strange sounds, smells, and new pain flooded her mind. They confused her already deteriorated mental state.

She knew she wasn’t asleep when a cold, strong hand reached under her shirt, grabbing her breast. Teresa’s body reacted instinctually, squirming to move away from the intrusion.

“Not now, fool! I can’t listen to her scream again. Wait until we stop.”

The hand disappeared. Teresa started to tremble.

“The screams are half the fun, Miguel. Makes it more intense. She’s still alive, so guess we didn’t do any major damage.”

“You are a sick pendejo, Juan. Sick.”

“I don’t remember you being bothered by her wails when it was your turn, Miguel. Admit it—you enjoyed it.”

Miguel laughed. “True, but I didn’t have a headache then. I do now. Too many hours on the road.”

“Your head hurts because you haven’t had any
llello
. I told you we shouldn’t have left it in the tunnels, but no, you insisted. You’re not the only one having withdrawals!”

“My insistence brought you this far, didn’t it? You’re still alive, Juan. Had we all listened to your plan instead of mine, we’d be like the rest of them:
cadavers andantes
! How was I to know Roberto’s stash was already gone?”

“Mother Mary! We’re in a world now with no cops in sight, free to snort up until our noses fall off, and not one line around. Figures. I’da rather stayed in the tunnels, Miguel. I could have snorted my way into the next world!”

“Stop complaining, Juan. We’ve got some food, water, gas, guns and pussy. No coke at the moment, yet when we make it to Dahlert, we’ll head right to our stash. In the meantime, if we want to keep her around, at least until we make it closer, we should probably give her some more water. And food.”

“Good idea, Miguel. The entertainment isn’t any fun when she doesn’t move. Tomas? Where are we?”

“About thirty miles on the other side of Santa Fe, Juan. We’re lucky the roads are practically empty here in the mountains. Want me to stop here? No one’s around. Besides, I’m ready for my turn of that
panocha
before it gets too stinky.”

“Or Miguel’s big
pene
rips her in half!”

All three men burst out laughing, making Teresa cringe. Disturbing memories flooded her mind. Intense pain in between her thighs replaced the burning in her leg.

Oh, God. I remember now. What they did to me after pulling me free. What they’re going to continue to do. They aren’t saviors—they’re devils!

Teresa opened her eyes, only to be greeted by darkness. Panic welled up in her chest at the realization her arms were bound and something covered her face. Unable to see, she had to rely upon other senses. She’d heard three distinct voices—Miguel, Juan, and Tomas. Was it just the three of them, or were there more who had yet to speak? She tried, but couldn’t remember, how many she’d seen back at the slaughterhouse.

Mind scrambling, Teresa wished she had the gun.

That won’t help! It only had two bullets left. Besides, I can’t move! Screw you, God. I’m not talking to you or asking for any more help. I’ll handle things on my own!