Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Read online

  “Now I’ve seen everything,” Barry mutters as he drops a couple cartridges into his gun.

  Barry is beside me and the blast from his shotgun is deafening, so I take several steps sideways away from him before he robs me of my youthful hearing. He takes out a zombie with his first shot, but the second shot clicks when he pulls the trigger, and nothing happens. The zombies turn towards us with hungry moans, and I stop watching Barry fumble to reload and focus on thinning down this group. Megan and I fire off several shots in the time it takes Barry to reload.

  The boom of the rifle fires again, taking down another zombie. I can’t help but notice how huge the kickback is on the gun, and I feel bad for Barry—I’ll take my handgun any day of the week. Barry’s next shot is more like an explosion, and I scream and fling my hand over my face as pain slices through my cheek.

  “What the fuck?” I yell, turning to see what in the hell Barry is doing. My anger drains from my body when I see that Barry’s down on the ground, the barrel of his rifle peeled back like a banana and his face—my stomach rebels against me. A cry issues from my throat, and Megan glances over briefly before turning her back on us once more to deal with the zombies. I glance over at the zombies and see that there are only four left, and Ryan is climbing down from the tree, so I turn my back on the firefight and force myself to go to Barry’s aid.

  I fall to my knees beside him in snow that is now flecked with red spray, and I just don’t know what to do for him. His face looks like a crater of raw hamburger. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and I grab his flailing hand and hold it tightly in my own. I never really liked Barry, but no one deserves to have their face blown off... I don’t even understand how something like this could even happen.

  Ryan runs over and lands on the other side of Barry, and I watch him press two fingers to check the pulse in his neck. I’m pretty sure it’s an empty gesture though. There isn’t anything we can do for him; his wounds are too bad. Back when it was as easy as calling 911, maybe he would’ve had a chance, but not now.

  “What do we do?” I screech at Ryan when Barry started bubbling and choking in his own blood, and Ryan shakes his head helplessly—he has tears in his eyes.

  “He’s suffering...” Ryan chokes as he pulls his gun from his belt and presses it to Barry’s temple. His hands are shaking so badly that I’m scared he’s going to miss. Ryan sits there, looking down at Barry, frozen. I know in my heart that I can’t let him go through with this. I gently push his hand away; Ryan is too good to have something like this on his conscience.

  I tug the gun from Ryan’s hand and gently press it to Barry’s forehead. “I’m so sorry Barry,” I choke out as I sob even harder—I force myself to pull the trigger and the bubbling gasps stop right away.

  “Jane!” I look up through my tears and see everyone running towards us. They must’ve arrived during the firefight; I didn’t notice with everything that was going on with Barry. Silas reaches me first and pulls me to my feet, away from the body, and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. My dad comes next and pushes Silas out of the way and gathers me up in his arms.

  Silas tosses off his jacket, rips a strip off his shirt, and presses it to my cheek, and I realize in a kind of detached way that blood is gushing down my cheek.

  “Baby, why did you do that?” Dad sobs into my hair, and for a minute I’m convinced that he hates me for murdering Barry.

  “We couldn’t help him, Dad. He was hurting so much,” I sob, and my Dad holds me even tighter.

  “I know, you did the right thing, but you didn’t have to do it. I’m so sorry that I failed you. I wish I could’ve been here on time so I could’ve done it in your place,” Dad sobs even harder, and I go boneless with relief. He doesn’t hate me or think I’m a monster. He is feeling guilty that he wasn’t here to help me.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I murmur in his ear, my throat raw and sore from crying. “I’ve had to do it before,” I confess, and I feel him stiffen in surprise. “That’s why I didn’t want Ryan to have to do it,” I manage to get out as everything becomes too much effort and my world fades to black.

  I wake up wearing a halo of pain that seems to engulf my entire body at first, but after several deep breaths I realize that it’s mostly centered in my head. I raise my fingers and gingerly poke at my face. I feel a rough patch across my cheek that feels tight and itchy. Someone grabs me and gently pulls my hand away, and I realize that it’s Silas. I’m lying on the couch back at the cabin and everyone is gathered around, staring down at me with varying degrees of worry on their faces.

  “What happened?” I ask, and it feels like trying to talk around a mouthful of cotton.

  “You fainted,” Mom says, coming over to sit on the edge of the couch, and she strokes my hair back away from my face. “Silas gave you some stitches on your cheek...” She stops and has to hold back a sob. I look over at Silas and grimace.

  “Again?” I ask, referring to the first time I met Silas, which was also the first time he had to stitch me up.

  “I’m afraid so,” he says, giving me a half-attempt at a smile. “Lucky for you, I’m awesome at stitching, so you’ll be good as new in no time,” he jokes, and I’m not sure if I should believe him or not. Silas isn’t usually the type to try and soften the blow, so maybe it’s much worse than I think.

  “What happened to Barry?” I ask, and everyone freezes like they think I forgot that I shot him and now they’ll have to break the news to me again. I shake my head and it hurts. “Not that part,” I say. “How did it even happen?”

  Silas’s face registers understanding. “The barrel of the gun exploded. He put a twenty gauge shell in a twelve gauge rifle. The shell slipped down and became lodged in the muzzle.” Silas shakes his head. “It happens more than you’d think—when he reloaded and the proper shell struck the obstruction, the pressure blew up the chamber—I checked his pockets, he had two different cartridges mixed up in there.”

  “Such a waste of life,” Regg mutters, looking visibly upset, and I’m sure they are both thinking of ways to blame themselves.

  Our conversation is interrupted by sobbing and I struggle to sit up on the couch. Ryan and Silas both help me up, and I turn to see Sunny coming down the stairs with Abby.

  “I’m sorry,” Abby apologizes. “She is just so upset, I can’t get her to stop crying. I thought maybe letting her see that Jane is okay would make her feel better...” Abby shrugs helplessly.

  I open my arms up to her and Sunny runs and jumps, bumping my cheek with her head and making me see stars for a minute, but I don’t mention it. “It’s going to be okay,” I murmur into the little girl’s hair, but Sunny shakes her head.

  “No. It hurts,” she says, still sobbing, and I look down at her in confusion.

  “Did you get hurt?” my mom asks, moving in closer to rub Sunny’s back, and she nods.

  “Did you get bitten?” I ask, barely managing to contain my budding hysteria.

  Sunny shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she admits.

  I try and paste a smile on my face so I don’t freak her out, but it’s taking ALL of my self-control. “Show us where it hurts,” I ask, and Sunny snuffles as she gingerly rolls up her sleeve and shows us the perfect imprint of a bite on her forearm. Blood is weeping from the wound, so it definitely broke the skin. I quickly wrap her in a hug so she won’t be able to see my face crumple.

  I look around at the rest of our group and there isn’t one person in the room that isn’t affected. Even Regg is letting the tears run down his face, not bothering to wipe them away. Silas looks like he’s seeing a ghost, and I know he’s thinking about his little brother right now.

  “This can’t be happening,” Abby sobs, but it is.

  “You’ll be okay,” I lie through my teeth, and Sunny pulls out of my hug to stare up at me solemnly.

  “Do you promise?” she asks, and it breaks my heart.

  “Sunny?” Regg says to distract her, and thankfully it works
and she turns towards him. “When did you get hurt?” he asks, and she looks thoughtful.

  “When they chased us into the tree—I didn’t run fast enough,” she says, her lower lip trembling.

  Ryan blinks in surprise. “But that was hours ago,” he protests, and we all look at Sunny in surprise.

  “How long does it take?” I ask, hating to even ask, but I haven’t really seen anyone turn yet, with the exception of Kyle back at the farmhouse, but he turned from a scratch.

  “Anyone I’ve ever seen get bit, always turns within the hour,” Silas mutters.

  “We were in that tree at least four hours,” Ryan protests again, surprising the hell out of me, and we all stare at Sunny in wonder. Even though I haven’t known her for very long, I’ve come to love this little girl; when she turns, it’s going to shatter my soul.

  Silas walks over and examines her arm, staring at it intently. “It’s definitely a bite,” he confirms before walking over to pace in front of the fire that someone must’ve lit while I was unconscious.

  A heavy knock interrupts our strained silence, and I know before Regg even opens it that it’s Jack. Jack takes one look at everyone and a look of alarm passes over his face.

  “What happened since the last time I saw you?” he asks, and Regg has to clear his throat a few times before he can explain.

  “Sunny was bitten,” he chokes out, and Jack’s face falls and he claps his hand on Regg’s shoulder.

  Jack walks over and stares down at Sunny, examining her. Even though I really like Jack, I just want him to go away. “You know, she could be immune,” he says, and we all stare at him in shock.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” I demand stubbornly, refusing to let myself have hope.

  “There ain’t nobody immune to this shit,” Silas agrees, and Jack looks at us all in surprise for a moment before he starts pulling his shirt off.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Regg asks when Jack tosses his shirt onto the couch and turns around for us all to see his back.

  “Left shoulder,” Jack instructs, and my eye is drawn there against my will. I blink in surprise, not one hundred percent sure what it is I’m looking at.

  “I was bit the first day of the infection,” Jack confesses, and we all lean in closer to stare at the obvious bite mark on his shoulder. It’s a raised bump and the imprint where the teeth connected is completely black. It almost looks like a tattoo.

  Regg leans forward, runs his hand over the mark, and shakes his head in wonder. “I can feel the impression of the teeth,” he says, and Jack nods.

  “You should’ve felt the damn impression the day that fucker bit me,” he counters.

  “How did it happen?” Ryan demands. “She doesn’t even look sick. Did you ever get sick?” he asks, and Jack shakes his head.

  “The damn virus never touched me, just gave me some messed up dreams and after a week or so, the scar just turned black and stayed that way.” Jack reaches for his shirt and shrugs back into it.

  I stare at Sunny and feel the first ray of true hope that I’ve felt in a long time. I don’t want to freak out and drop my guard, but Sunny doesn’t seem to be falling ill. She isn’t fevered, or chilled, and she definitely isn’t vomiting blood.

  I grip Silas’s hand so hard that I hear his fingers crack. “She has to be okay,” I whisper to him so Sunny won’t hear, and Silas nods, letting out a shaky breath.

  “Only time will tell...”

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  Coming October 2016

  Zomb-Pocalypse 4 coming January 2017