Page 5
Her legs screamed in exhaustion. She’d been running for what seemed like forever. Every time she paused to catch her breath, she heard the low moan of a shambler or glimpsed an undead that seemed to speed right by her. Stupid! After getting spooked by that man, she took off and got turned around. Although she’d been to Baltimore dozens of times before the uprising, she only visited specific areas, and because she’d panicked, she had run the wrong way and gotten lost.
She sniffed the air, trying to latch onto the awful, pungent smell of the river. Similar to sulfur, because of the algae and stagnant water, it wasn’t hard to figure out the direction she needed to go as long as she wasn’t cut off by zombies again. In the distance, random gunfire popped, which meant either her group had entered the city, or a different one was already in hiding.
Renee racked her brain as she tried to recall how to get to the baseball stadium from the harbor. Oriole Park, where the Baltimore Orioles played, was only a couple of blocks away, past the Baltimore Convention Center. Her chin tilted to the sky. It was growing darker by the minute. She dashed down the street to get closer to the inner harbor to help herself get her bearings and she spotted him again. The tall, intimidating man.
She’d spotted him on the roofs as she ran and near the building’s alleyway. Each time, he appeared to be staring at her, which made her even more frightened. There were horror stories of people kidnapping others to satisfy their carnal cravings, but something still felt off about him. Renee wanted to slow down and get a better look at him but understood it would only bring trouble, so she kept evading him as best she could.
Exhausted, she pressed herself against the brick wall of a towering apartment building and tried to catch her breath. She shuddered when she spotted a few zombies zoom past her, chasing one of the scavengers that had teamed up with her group prior to entering the city. Shit. That meant her group was probably being massacred.
You can’t keep up this pace, princess. Pick a spot and hunker down until things calm, her brother told her.
Iris was right. She told Mark it was too risky. Even when he argued, the scouts had seen nothing. Now both of them are going to die… or maybe they are already dead, she replied.
A scream bounced off the buildings to emphasize her point. The somewhat metallic sound of the scream, because her implant battery was low, did nothing to make her feel safer, even if it did mean there were other humans. When she’d first started hearing environmental sounds as a child it frightened her, but surprisingly her brain quickly adjusted to them. Ambient sounds faded into the background, and she mostly ignored them, the way others could ignore a dog barking. But voices - no. That was the main purpose for her implants. The ability to speak and be spoken to. Communication. At the moment, she didn’t want to hear any human sounds, words, or utterances, especially from those screaming out.
The only reason they’d been dumb enough to enter the city was for needed supplies. She didn’t believe there was a zombie-free zone and hoping there would be was nonsense, but after all her failures, she wanted to get one thing right, so she took a risk, knowing it was probably taunting death.
Renee hadn’t told anyone, but once her group got closer to Nantucket, she was going to leave because she had unfinished business. There were many large groups of zombies. Initially, when everything hit the fan, it hadn’t been like that, but over the years, they seemed to group together for reasons unknown to the surviving humans. If a horde found your encampment, surviving was almost impossible. No one could figure out when the hordes actually began to grow in number or why it continued, but there were upsides to the changing dynamics. Humans spotted groups of them much more quickly, allowing themselves a chance to escape.
Despite her cowardice, Renee didn’t want to escape. Not exactly. She didn’t want to fight them herself since she abhorred violence and death, but she did want to watch the undead and try to find a weakness or discover something that would help humans win this war. Because that’s what it was. A war to the death but not for land, money or resources - it was a war to live.
You’re not made for vengeance. You don’t even have a plan. Her brother said close to her ear as she panted.
She hoped when she found information that could destroy the zombies, they would be in larger groups so they could be decimated en masse, giving humans a real chance at mending the world. She hadn’t found the right group of people, but she never gave up. She wanted to find others who wanted to use whatever leverage they had against the zombies; the longer she searched, the better her chances of finding other people with a similar mission. It was obvious fighting the undead in small groups or with weapons wasn’t dwindling the numbers fast enough, and if humans didn’t come up with something else and soon, they were all doomed.
That still isn’t a plan, Renny.
Liam, stop! I don’t need this right now. I’m not a fighter, a scientist, or a doctor or anything that would be useful to come up with a smart plan on how to fix everything. Renee balled her hands into fists. But because of my disability, I pay attention. More than most people. I might see or hear something that would really change things. I know Mom wouldn’t think I could make a difference, but I want to believe someone could, and so, why not me? What if it’s like that old book I read?
Not The War of the Worlds again… Liam grumbled.
It could be something like that! Maybe not a disease, since I think that’s what they have, but maybe a virus? I think that’s kind of like a disease, but different.
I think you should be more worried about you right now. Liam’s voice grew soft as the thundering of feet thudded towards her.
Renee gritted her teeth and forced her body to move again. Dead. They were all going to die. Or worse, history was about to repeat itself for the thirteenth time, she’d be without a group… again. She rounded a building and almost stopped when she spotted the same man from earlier, the one she’d been catching glimpses of as she tried to traverse what was left of the once great city of Baltimore, Maryland. Only this time, there was enough light for her to realize he wasn’t alive. Although he wasn’t disheveled or stunk like many of the other zombies. Even running, Renee spotted his alabaster skin that was almost translucent, showing the visible veins and arteries beneath and the strange washed-out irises all the undead seemed to have.
The hungry, animalistic sounds grew closer. She stopped staring and picked up her pace. Damn it, there were broken-down cars, scrap, and signs that had fallen blocking her path. Her only choice was to pass the man - no zombie - who had been following her. For a split second, her mind wandered to what that might mean, since zombies didn’t seem to pay attention and strategically follow prey. Unless he moved, she would be just out of arm’s reach.
The cool breeze picked up and citrus filled her nostrils again. Pleasant, considering it might be one of her last moments. The undead were on her heels. Squinting her eyes, she focused and pushed her legs harder. Sweat dampened her back even with the mild temperatures.
Shit. Shit. Just as she was about to pass the man, he reached out. The tips of his pale fingers grazed against her sleeve. She almost peed her pants in relief, understanding he must have been one of the slow ones.
An upscale, tall hotel loomed to the left of her as her feet thudded against the concrete. Surprised to find Mark fighting two zombies about fifteen feet away, his presence confirmed her group was there. Seconds later, Tom, one of the militant people who had joined them a few months ago, sent a battery of shots toward zombies seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.
Renee shuddered from the sounds that were loud enough she felt them as pops in her chest. Her steps slowed, and she risked a quick glance behind her. She was being pursued, but not by the numbers of undead like she anticipated. The sound of their steps was less like thunder and more like people rushing to enter an amusement park when it first opened. Stupidly, her mind recollected she’d only ever been to two theme parks before all this happened.
Continuing forward but staring back, her steps were erratic as she gasped for breath. Her entire frame shook as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to go toward danger instead of her typical behavior to run the other way. She couldn’t let herself shut down or run away, otherwise nothing would change and she would once again be alone.
Her fingernails dug into her palm when the tall man - no zombie - rounded the building like he was taking a stroll. Immune to the sounds of battle, overwhelming stench, and violence around him, his gaze immediately locked on her. He remembered she’d run past him? But only the fast zombies seemed to have any sort of memory, although it wasn’t anything substantial from what she’d learned over the years. If someone evaded them long enough, they would forget or be distracted by fresh prey.
Mark screamed. Renee lost her balance and stumbled. More gunfire and then Tom cried out. Her conscience told her to turn and try to help, but logic said they were already dead and even though she disliked Mark, no one ever deserved what happened when a group of undead got a hold of someone.
They’re all dead… again.
Dead.
I’m alone.
Renee took in her surroundings as her heart threatened to beat itself out of her chest. Had to move, but exhaustion made her lethargic and her movements even more sluggish. The group around the tall zombie had reduced its speed to a shuffle as the smaller horde moved in her direction. Her brain couldn’t process the information; what was happening didn’t make sense because some of them had been the fast zombies, they never approached their prey slowly, and she couldn’t make sense of where they all came from so suddenly.
Her head snapped to where Mark and Tom had been. She forced the acidic lump in her throat down. She knew they were dead, but… they had been reduced to pieces that the undead fought over, paying her no attention. She veered to the left, focused on the double doors when she heard a guttural cry from behind her and feet slapping the pavement.
Run! Her brother’s voice called out.
Broken out of her panic, she felt energized and took off toward the hotel. Just as she lifted her foot to clear the curb, she slipped and fell against it, cracking the left side of her head against the concrete. She cried out but only caught the beginning of her shriek because the sound cut out, signaling that she’d damaged her last implant.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5 (Reading here)
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40