Ryan's Luck (Death's Children - A Zombie Apocalypse Serial Book 2) Page 3

  “Come on, Ry,” Jonathan urged, untouched by the exchange between brother and sister. “The coast is clear.”

  They got out and walked toward the hardware shop with their senses on full alert. By now, Ryan had learned the price of inattention. The zombies seemed to have a knack for jumping out of unexpected places even when it all looked clear.

  The glass front of the shop was grimy from countless years of neglect. Whoever the owner had been, he'd not bothered to wash it. Ever. Ryan squinted through the caked dirt, trying to look inside. “I don't see anything. Do you?”

  “Nope,” Jonathan answered with a shake of the dead. “Guess we'll find out soon enough.”

  “Guess so.” Ryan reached for the handle and pushed.

  The door resisted, and he shoved a bit harder. This time it swung open with a rusty groan. A fetid smell washed over his face. The unmistakable aroma of rot.

  “Ugh, it stinks,” Jonathan whispered. “There's got to be one of them in here.”

  Ryan swallowed and gathered his courage. “I'll go first.”

  Jonathan shot him a surprised look before he nodded and waved. “Go ahead, Ry. I’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ryan stepped over the threshold. One step, two steps, three steps, and he paused. It was dark inside, the dirty windows allowing almost no light to shine through. His pupils expanded as his eyesight accommodated for the low light. Objects appeared in the murk. A row of lawnmowers, racks of tools, boxed odds and ends, pretty much what he expected of a hardware shop.

  Jonathan appeared beside him, and together they moved deeper inside, their eyes sweeping from side to side. A squelch caused Ryan to pause, and he looked down. His shoe had landed in a thick pool of blood. The fluid stuck to the bottom of the sole when he lifted his foot, and bile stung his throat.

  The hair on the back of his neck rose. A whisper of air was the only warning he got. He began to turn when something slammed into his side, sweeping him off his feet. He fell hard, and his side caught the edge of a heavy steel rack. Pain burst through his torso, radiating out from his ribs. The breath left his lungs in a pained rush.

  He expected teeth to pierce his skin, expected the bite of a zombie at any moment. When that didn't happen, he looked up into the murky eyes of a blood-crazed infected. There was no life left in those eyes, no signs of intelligence, just a rabid monster dying to get a bite.

  Jonathan had the zombie by the arms, his slender seventeen-year-old body straining to keep it off Ryan. It was the only thing that kept it from tearing into Ryan’s flesh.

  Ryan tried to crawl away, but he was stuck under the infected’s body. It struggled to get free, its weight bearing down in its efforts to bite into its intended prey.

  Droplets of spit and drool sprayed across Ryan's face along with who knew what else. He turned his head away while his hands struggled to free the umbrella from its cage between him and the giant zombified man.

  “I can't hold him,” Jonathan cried. Ryan pulled with all his might on the plastic handle of his weapon. “Hurry, Ry!”

  The umbrella came free with a jerk, and he thrust the point into the zombie's eye. This time, it didn't pop open. This time, he saw every detail as the metal point ruptured the eyeball. Fluid and blood sprayed out, and Ryan had to fight against the instinct to pull away. Instead, he pushed. Deeper and deeper. Blood rained down in droplets of blackened goo. At last, the zombie went quiet.

  Ryan turned his head away and gagged, regurgitating mouthfuls of vomit that rose unbidden from his revolted stomach. At least, it flushed the other stuff out.

  Jonathan heaved the corpse off his body and helped him to his feet, his expression a mixture of horror and glee. “Damn, he nearly got you, Ry. You okay?”

  Ryan managed a shaky nod before bending over and voiding the last contents of his stomach onto the floor. He wiped his mouth with a trembling hand before using the tail of his shirt to clean his face. “I'm fine.”

  “Ugh, these things are so gross. It's just like the movies, hey?” Jonathan turned in a circle. “Seems like that was the only one, though. The noise would have drawn any others out.”

  “I hope so,” Ryan said. After a few more seconds, he nerved himself to continue. “Let's go.”

  They walked through the aisles, checking for more zombies but found nothing. Along the way, Ryan took the opportunity to arm himself with a tool belt filled with long screwdrivers and a hammer. In his hands, he carried a hatchet. Jonathan did likewise but seemed to prefer a crowbar for his primary weapon. He twirled it around like a baton, and Ryan had to keep himself from snorting out loud.

  His steps carried him to the back of the store where the darkness was thickest. The foul smell intensified until it caked his nostrils. With nervous tension, he raised the hatchet ready to strike. The hair on his arms prickled as a sixth sense warned him of danger. There's someone else here.

  A single row of tiny windows in the back wall allowed a beam of sunlight to cut through the gloom. It shone upon the floor, the golden glow illuminating a writhing figure. Ryan stumbled to a halt, and one hand pressed itself to his mouth. “Oh, God.”

  “What is it?” Jonathan asked before he too gagged when he spotted what Ryan had.

  A woman, or what remained of one, lay on the floor. Her stomach had been ripped open and ropy intestines entangled her legs and arms. The flesh on her face and limbs was eaten away until white bone shone through the rippling remains. She rasped at them, raising a single hand from the pool of dried blood she lay in.

  Ryan backed away and shook his head. “The guy...he must have...eaten her.”

  “Yeah,” Jonathan mumbled, his face pale. He raised a trembling hand and pointed at something the zombie woman clutched in her other hand. “Look.”

  Ryan squinted at the small object until his brain identified the polished leather decorated with a red bow. He reeled in shock and turned away, unable to look. A shoe. A tiny shoe. Did she eat her own kid?

  His stomach heaved again, but before he could do anything, a whisper of sound reached his ears. A scrape, a high-pitched sob. It cut through the haze of horror, and he straightened up with his weapon raised. His eyes scanned their surroundings. “Jonathan. There's something else here.”

  “Where?” His friend likewise forgot the zombie woman and stiffened.

  Ryan thought he spotted the smallest of movements in a corner behind a box and pointed at it. “There.”

  A small figure hurled itself at him, hands outstretched. Ryan raised the hatchet, ready to strike. The edge of the blade gleamed in the faint light. His muscles tensed for the blow, and the ax descended in an arc.

  A single word penetrated his consciousness, spoken in a high-pitched cry that pierced his eardrums. Ryan froze mid-strike. The blade stopped a hair's breadth from the skull of the child who now collided with his midsection and clung to him with frantic desperation.

  “Mommy, mommy, mommy,” the little girl sobbed over and over.

  Ryan stared at her, dumbfounded. “You're alive?”

  She didn't answer, mumbling same word over and over again in a refrain without end. Beside him, Jonathan stood with a quizzical expression on his face, as if he didn't quite know what to make of the situation. Neither did Ryan, but he realized they needed to do something fast.

  With careful movements, he lowered the hatchet and tucked it into his belt. A quick glance showed him the zombie woman on the floor had managed to drag herself closer. He turned to Jonathan, shielding the little girl from the horrific sight. “We need to go. Now.”

  Jonathan nodded. “Go ahead. Take her to the car. I'll do what needs to be done.”

  “Thanks.” Ryan looked at the pathetic remains of the woman for the last time, grateful that Jonathan would end her misery. It felt obscene to leave her like that. Half-dead, half-living, half-monster.

  He gripped the little girl by the shoulders and hushed her. “Hey, there. It's okay. You're safe now, I promise.”

  She con
tinued to blubber through the snot and tears that streaked her skin. He reached down and picked her up, half expecting resistance. She didn't fight but clung to him instead. He jogged to the front door with his precious burden, stopping only to make sure it was clear outside.

  Kerry's head popped up in the back window, eyes wide with surprise. He opened the door and deposited the little girl on the seat. Her fingers were curled into his shirt, and she refused to let go. He unwound her grip, talking to her the entire time. “Calm down, little one. It's okay. I promise. You're safe now.”

  The words had little effect, and he grew scared the noise would attract more zombies. In desperation, he appealed to his sister. “Kerry, please. Help me to calm her down.”

  She nodded and scooted over, placing gentle hands on the girl child. “What's your name? I'm Kerry, and this is Ryan.”

  The commonplace question seemed to get through to the child because she hiccuped the word, “L...Lu...Lucy.”

  “Lucy? That's a pretty name, and you've got such pretty hair too.” Kerry rhythmically stroked Lucy's black curls, further soothing her. “Are you hungry? I bet you are. Would you like an apple? I've got some. They're nice and sweet.”

  The continuous stream of chatter did the trick. Lucy quieted and allowed Ryan to close the door. Right then, Jason jogged around the car to the driver's side and asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Yup, let's go.”

  Ryan slid into his seat with a sigh of relief. In the short amount of time they'd been there, he'd come to hate the town and everything in it. Finally, we can get out of here.

  Chapter 5

  Jonathan drove through the small community to the outskirts of town within minutes. In this regard, the tiny population proved to be a boon. There were very few obstacles of any kind. A wreck, a few abandoned cars, and a couple of wandering dead people were the only things they saw.

  There was evidence of violence aplenty. Blood smeared windows, and smashed storefronts flowed past as they drove, now just another part of the scenery. Grinning zombies turned to stumble after them, and one building showed evidence of a fire, but for the most part, the streets were empty.

  Ryan stared at it all with mute fascination. The paralyzing fear that had been part of him all along was gone, replaced instead by a sense of triumph. He'd faced his fears, fought the Boogeyman that hid beneath the bed, and won. It was a novel experience.

  All his life, he'd gone unnoticed. Not one of the nerds, but certainly not one of the jocks either. Pale and slender with dopey brown eyes and floppy hair, he was indistinguishable from the rest. Just one of the crowd.

  Sport was out. He couldn't play rugby to save his life, his legs neither fast enough nor strong enough. He sucked at athletics too. Academically he did well enough to keep his parents off his back but not well enough to excel. Early on, he'd resigned himself to a life spent in the middle, never more than average.

  Now everything had changed. His parents were dead, his school was abandoned, and the adults that were supposed to protect him wanted to eat him. But I fought back. I didn't give up, and I saved Kerry. I even saved Lucy.

  Pride welled up inside his chest, and he lifted his chin. He'd proven he was strong enough to survive, and that he had what it took to live in this new world. The zombies wouldn't get him. They wouldn't get Kerry either. He'd make sure of that.

  The remnants of the town faded into the distance, and he focused his attention on the now quiet Lucy sitting in the back. Kerry had done an excellent job of cleaning her up. She'd wiped the little girl's dirt-streaked face, straightened her clothes, and combed her wild head of hair into submission.

  Now Lucy munched on an apple with the intense concentration of the truly hungry. She must be starving, the poor thing. I wonder what happened to her.

  He cleared his throat. “Lucy.”

  The child raised huge eyes to his.

  “Do you feel better now?”

  She nodded and took another bite of the shiny green apple.

  “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

  She regarded him for several seconds but didn't reply.

  He tried again. “Do you have any family we can take you to?”

  She shook her head, still silent. A shimmer of tears betrayed her feelings, though.

  “How old are you?”

  She raised five fingers.

  So young.

  “Okay, well just tell me if you need anything.” She didn’t react and simply stared at him with those eerie eyes. They were striking. A piercing steel gray offset by porcelain skin and thick black lashes. She was a pretty but strange little thing, and he turned back to the front to quiz Jonathan on their destination. “Tell me more about this place we're going to.”

  “It's okay.”

  “You’ve got to give me more than that,” Ryan protested.

  Jonathan sighed. “It's a fishing resort called Riverbend.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “There's a dirt track that leads to the gate and a big farmhouse where you check in.”

  “Is it safe?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I guess. Safer than town anyway.”

  Ryan ground his teeth in frustration. “We've got my sister and a little girl to look after. We need more than vague details.”

  “All right, all right. Don't wet your panties, man.” Jonathan shook his head. “There's a wall around the house, and it's off the road. That should help. Far as I know, the owners are an oldish couple. They've got a knock-out for a daughter too, but she's off at university.”

  “What about guests?”

  “They're in a separate area away from the house. Nothing to worry about.”

  Ryan allowed himself a cautious smile. “Sounds cool, I suppose.”

  “That's what I said.”

  “How far is it?”

  “Another kilometer or two at most. We'll be there soon.”

  No sooner had the words left Jonathan's lips than he yelled something indecipherable and yanked the wheel. The car slewed to the side and careened across the road before it slammed nose first into a tree. Ryan shot forward. His head hit the dashboard, and he saw stars.

  For a minute, all was silent. The engine had died, and a few creaks from the protesting metal were all that could be heard. With a few rapid blinks, Ryan cleared his vision and pushed himself upright. He pressed a palm to his aching forehead. An egg had formed and was swelling rapidly.

  From the backseat, whimpers emerged. He twisted around and reached a hand toward Kerry. “You okay, sis?”

  She nodded groggily, her eyes vague and confused. “I'm fine.”

  “And Lucy?”

  The little girl had fallen into the footwell where she now lay crying. A quick examination by Kerry proved she was fine, however, just scared.

  He turned to Jonathan. “What was that? What happened?”

  Jonathan groaned, slow to answer. “I thought I saw a kid on the road.”

  “A kid?” Ryan asked. “Like a zombie kid or a live kid?”

  “I don't know.” Jonathan shook his head. “He just stood there, and I didn't want to hit him in case he was alive.”

  Ryan peered through his window, trying to see what Jonathan had seen. His gaze met nothing but brush, trees, and foliage until faint movement caught his eye. He craned his neck then jerked back when two fists beat on the window right next to his face. His heart stuttered. “What the...?”

  Ferocious growls were followed by the hungry face of a zombie kid. A boy. Blood dribbled from his torn ear. It hung by a single thread of skin and flapped as he moved. More blood soaked his t-shirt with smears of crimson. It splattered the glass as he attacked, decorating the window in a polka dot pattern of bright red.

  “See? I told you there was a boy,” Jonathan said, happy to have his word proven true. His triumph soon turned sour, however, when another zombie joined the boy. More figures stumbled toward them from the brush, and he croaked, “Oh, crap.”

  “Start t
he car, Jonathan. Now!”

  His friend obeyed, but a twist of the key proved that the engine was dead. Smoke rose from the bonnet in clouds of billowy gray. Jonathan tried a few more times without success before he slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “Now what?”

  More zombies had joined the first two by now. They scratched and beat on the metal box that hid their prey, and their plaintive moans created a din that grated on Ryan's nerves.

  Ryan twisted in his seat, heart leaping when he saw how many there were. Too many to get everyone safely out of the wreck. They were trapped. He scoured his brains for an escape, distracted by the tearful girls in the back. An idea occurred to him. “How far is that place of yours again?”

  “Not far,” Jonathan replied. “Question is, how do we get out of here with the girls?”

  “Can you make a run for it?”

  “What?”

  “Can you get Kerry and Lucy to safety?”

  Jonathan stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I'll distract them. Draw them away. Then you three make for Riverbend.”

  “I'm not leaving you behind, man.” Jonathan's ruddy skin began to glow with anger. “No way.”

  “Jonathan, that's my sister over there and an innocent little girl. We've got to protect them, no matter what.”

  “No.”

  The noise around them grew as more infected showed up, drawn to the crash. Their gruesome faces leered through the glass, terrifying both Kerry and Lucy in the back. The younger girl sobbed in terror until Ryan had to shout to make himself heard. “I can do it, you know I can. I'll meet you at the resort later, I promise.”

  Jonathan hesitated. “Ry...”

  “Please, let me do this,” Ryan begged. He glanced toward Kerry who stared at him with complete trust in her gaze. “She's the only family I've got left. If something happened to her...to them...I'd never forgive myself.”

  Jonathan slumped. “Fine, but you’d better get back to us, okay? And not as a zombie either. I don't do zombie friendships, dude, what with all the stink and stuff.”