Trepidation (18 page)

“I’m so sorry about this, Dean,” Sandy apologized. 

“I’m alive. That’s the important thing, right, neighbor?”

She smiled. “My sister’s on our side too. She already untied Asia and helped her escape. Asia has your rifle. She’s waiting for you in the woods, on the south side of the camp.”

“Thank you.”

“Just get word to Max. Destroy this camp and then destroy Z. I’m sorry, Dean. I guess...well, I didn’t see Z for the maniac he really is. This whole thing has blinded people. Everyone is so worried and scared...just trying to survive.”

“But now you know the truth, see Z and that fiend brother of his for their true colors.” “Definitely.” She peered out between the flaps of the huge tent. “Run straight into the woods. If you go right now, you can make it without being seen.”

I nodded. “Thanks again...and don’t forget to invite us to your housewarming party.”

She smiled and handed me a rifle.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

“Use it to knock me out. I’m gonna tell them you hit me, then loosed Asia and took off. I don’t want them realizing my sister or I had anything to do with this, or we’ll be next on Z’s chopping block. The only things he hates worse than trespassers are traitors.”

“Sandy, I can’t hit you. What kind of neighbor would I be?”

“You have to, Dean. It’s the only way to save my life. They can’t know I helped you. They’ll kill my children back at the warehouse. You’ve gotta knock me out or shoot me, or else you have to get back in that chair and let me tie you up again. Now hurry up and pick one.”

I gripped the gun and hit her on the head, trying to do it as humanely as possible. When she collapsed, I gently checked her pulse to make sure she was all right, and then I muttered, “Sorry, friend,” and ran out of the tent.

Outside, the place was swarming with guards. I ducked behind a pile of crates and boxes, then sneaked behind a truck. I crouched there and scanned my surroundings. The woods didn’t look to be so far away, so when the coast was clear, I emerged and crept to the next tent. I peeked around it and rushed over to a smaller tent. I crouched down and squinted across the camp and spotted the woods Sandy had mentioned. Just one final sprint, I told myself.

Ruff! Ruff!
a little dog barked, threatening to alert my enemies to my presence.

“Chill out, Fido,” I whispered, then  leapt into a nearby snowdrift, with a shower of bullets flying over my head. 

F
ootsteps crunched in the snow as I slid under the vehicle. The ground was cold and solid, as if I was lying on an iceberg, and I could smell smoke from a nearby fire. I kept perfectly still as my body shook.
I have to get out of this camp.
I was surrounded by the enemy, and I only had this one opportunity to survive. If I screwed it up, I would be a dead man, and I wouldn’t have a chance to warn Max of Z’s evil plans.

I peered out and considered my options and escape routes. I thought about hotwiring a car I saw not too far away, but there were too many men standing around it. I could run east, straight to the forest, but that area was even more heavily guarded. If I went west, I’d have to sneak through the most populated part of the camp. All things considered, east seemed like my best bet, so I tried to mentally calculate the distance.

Five armed patrolled the area, cursing and laughing about my demise. My life meant nothing to them, and that was a scary thought.

I used my elbows and feet to Army-crawl over to some tall weeds, hoping they’d give me cover. Someone had fired at me, so it was a bit frightening to know that they knew I was out there somewhere. I wasn’t completely hidden yet when a pair of grungy black combat boots stopped right in front of my face, and I froze, other than the wild thumping of my terrified heart. I debated inching back a bit; I knew even the slightest noise would give me away. When the man moved on, I crawled deeper into the brush.

I glanced around and saw that it was as clear as it was going to get. Like I was competing in some kind of Olympic decathlon, I jumped over logs and ran around huge rocks as branches whipped across my face. My feet crashed through the underbrush, but I kept going, never looking back, knowing my reward would be much more valuable than a gold medal: I’d actually live.

When I realized I’d finally made it, I leaned against a tree for a moment to catch my breath. An owl watched me from a snow-covered limb high above, then hooted nonchalantly and flew away. I looked around for Asia’s footsteps in the snow, but I only saw deer tracks. I kept moving, but when a twig snapped somewhere in my vicinity, I jumped and darted my gaze all around me, my eyes wide. My shoulders slumped in relief when I saw a rabbit hopping away, into a pile of debris and logs. 

Another bullet whizzed by my head, and yet another ricocheted off the tree trunk in front of me, sending a shower of bark everywhere. A hail of bullets slammed into the tree trunk next to me. As they continued to fire, I dove behind a huge tree and contemplated firing back. They’d been too busy torturing me to bother taking the ammo out of my pockets, and there were still some bullets left in Sandy’s rifle. Still, I thought it was a better idea to keep moving and save my ammo for when I really needed it—like when we had to trek back home through all those zombies. There was no use firing aimlessly into the woods, wasting all those bullets without even hitting anything. 

As if I didn’t have enough trouble on my hands, I heard a mindless moan and turned around to find a zombie with a hollowed-out face. Its eyes remained, but they looked possessed and empty, and it snapped its jaw at me, much faster than the average zombie. Black ooze dripped down its blood-stained chin as it hissed at me, and I almost threw up at the site of its putrid face, with all that exposed, torn, shredded muscle. I felt even more nauseous when I saw intestines dangling in its decayed hand. I knew Asia was out there somewhere, and I only hoped I wasn’t looking at part of my friend. 

The thing was tall and muscular, and I wasn’t willing to gamble that I’d win a fight against it. I aimed my weapon; it was a precarious situation, well worth a bullet. I was sure the gunfire from my enemies had drawn it there in the first place, so one more shot wasn’t going to matter.

Another zombie burst out of the vegetation and grabbed my leg just as I fired. It was crawling so I was able to easily crush its skull in. Because of the distraction, I hadn’t nailed the towering zombie standing in front of me. The round hit the deceased in the neck, and I quickly took aim again. My finger squeezed the trigger, and this time, I nailed it in the head, putting a huge hole in its cranium. A shower of crimson and bone fragments sprayed the tree beside it, and the moaning abomination fell back against a boulder. When I looked to the left, I saw a fallen deer in the brush, surrounded by pinkish-red snow. I felt sorry for the creature, but I was a bit relieved to know that—and not Asia—was what the undead abomination had been feasting on before I came along.

More zombie moans filled the air, and dread washed over me. I was already on the run, and those hideous monsters were the last thing I wanted to deal with, but it seemed I would have no choice. I peered through my scope and scanned the landscape in front of me. I took a deep breath and shot four more, then fumbled in my pockets for more ammo and reloaded. I spun around to make sure nothing, human or zombie, had sneaked up from behind, and I was relieved to see that I was alone out there. A second later, though, more zombies shuffled through the towering ferns toward me. I felt the rifle recoil gently on my shoulder as I took out three more of the infected, putting them out of their sorry misery and mine.

Another twig snapped, and I spun around to stare into the powder-white complexion of a rancid zombie with the biggest, gaping head wound I’d ever seen. It was shirtless, so I could see its ragged torso. I didn’t know which was fouler, its arms and neck bent at unnatural angles or the oozing scratches running down its face. The zombie was also missing some fingers, and I was sure it had been in some sort of horrible accident or—worse—had been partially devoured by another zombie. My stomach dropped at the thought, but I fired off a shot, straight into its cranium.

In spite of the cold, sweat began to roll down my back. I clenched my teeth as a sick feeling nestled in my gut. My life was in jeopardy; I could face a violent, painful death from a bullet hole in the head or a bite from the undead, and neither of those options seemed appealing. I thought about the island, my old life, my parents, and my friends. It was as if a million thoughts whirled through my head at once, like my life was really flashing before my eyes.
Will I make it out of this? After everything I’ve been through, am I gonna die out here, alone, in the woods?

Something hissed behind me, and I spun around on my heels. A zombie with one good eye staggered toward me like a drunk. Its other eye was hanging out of its eye socket by a reddish-purplish thread, a vein. It had swollen lips and a broken nose. As it reached hungrily for me, I aimed and squeezed the trigger.

Pure fear washed over me as shells crashed into the snow not far from where I was hiding, gasping for breath. Even a leg shot could be fatal, because I had no access to a doctor or medical supplies, and I still had to get back to Fairport on foot, through a zombie-infested forest. A gunshot wound would slow me down and make me vulnerable, an easy mark for the living dead. Realizing that, I tore through the snow, moving rapidly and zigzagging around huge rocks and tree stumps. Bullets snapped through twigs and limbs as they passed my head, and I wondered just how close the shooters were.

Panting hard, I spun around and saw two men hiking through the snow, dressed in camouflage coats. As much as I hated having to point my rifle at living human beings, I really didn’t have a choice; they would have no problem shooting me first. So, I aimed my gun with steady arms, kept my legs in a wide stance, and fired at my targets. I nailed one in the knee and the other in the shoulder. I clenched my teeth and felt heat rising into my face. I was furious and swore I was going to make Z’s brother pay for ordering them to kill me.

“Dean!” Asia called.

Relieved to hear a familiar, friendly voice, I glanced to my left and saw her standing behind a towering, granite rock, squeezing off shots with her rifle. I was so thankful to see that she was safe, but upon closer inspection, I realized her eye and lip were puffy and swollen. My face contorted with rage. Now, rather than running, I wanted payback. “You’re hurt,” I said.

“I’m fine.” She looked at me and shook her head, taking notice of the cuts and emerging bruises on my face.

Another bullet ricocheted, sending my heart into overdrive.

“Get ‘em!” a man shouted. “Z’ll give us a bonus for those two!”

I grabbed Asia’s hand, and we rushed behind a huge boulder as a barrage of gunshots cut through the air. Sucking in deep breaths, I peered around the rock to see how far away our adversaries were. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear their voices. Every muscle in my body tensed. “We need to move,” I said. “C’mon!”

She motioned me to the left, and we tore through the deep snow as bullets whirred overhead. We ran deeper and deeper into the terror zone, evading capture and homicide. Round after round was fired at us, and I flinched with every near-miss. Adrenaline flooded my veins, and I knew we had to lose the enemy, hot on our trail.

The terrain was becoming a problem, and before I knew it, I took a tumble. My body hit the ground hard, and the next thing I knew, I was helplessly rolling down a snow-covered hill. Loose snow chased me down the steep incline, slapping against my face and stinging my skin. My lungs still burned from running so hard, and when I finally landed at the bottom, I smelled death and decay. I gazed up into milky white eyes. “Zombie!” I yelled.

T
he creature was covered in snow, as if it had fallen down one too many times. Its skin was black and torn, revealing the muscles underneath. As it stumbled toward me, I reached for the rifle slung around my neck. I aimed and fired, and then I inched back as black gore exploded from its head. I took a deep breath, jumped to my feet, and ran to Asia. “You okay?” I asked.

Her face contorted in agony as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m good.”

“Then let’s go!” I said, grabbing her hand.

We ran across the meadow and arrived, much to our dismay, at a cliff with a fifty-foot drop into icy water below. A chill shot up my spine as shouts and yells echoed behind us.

“They’re coming,” she said, stating the obvious.

My stomach lurched. “What do we do?” I stammered. 

“Well, if we jump down there, we’ll be mulched into snow cones for sure.”

I peered at her. “We’ve gotta trick them.”

“How?”

“We need to make them think we jumped. Then we’ll double-back and trace our footsteps, and, uh...” I looked around and pointed to a bunch of oversized rocks. “We can hop across those, jump off, and bury ourselves in the snow.”

“Hmm. It could work,” she said, contemplating. “Actually, it’s ingenious.”

“Good. Then follow me,” I said, retracing my own footsteps.

We climbed across the rocks and Asia lay down by some huge, towering trees. I buried Asia completely, all except for a hole near her mouth, so she could breathe. Then I lay down near her and quickly covered myself with snow and dead leaves and sticks.

It wasn’t long before the men followed our tracks to the cliff.

“Those crazy kids jumped!” a man said.

“They’re as good as dead then. If the fall didn’t kill them, the cold water will.”

“Even if they do survive the river, the zombies will finish them off like human popsicles.”

The seconds slowly ticked by. Five minutes eventually passed, and I couldn’t help nervously fidgeting with the hem of my jacket. I breathed in and held in the air for a second as a shudder ran down my spine; I refused to let fear consume me. The footsteps and voices faded away, and when I felt it was safe, I finally stood and let the snow fall off me, breathing a huge sigh of relief. I gave Asia’s hand a squeeze, and she let out her own tiny sigh.