Z Children (Book 2): The Surge (13 page)

“I
don’t think going into a town is such a good idea…” Virginia’s voice trailed
off. She didn’t think she was in a position to question JW’s decisions. He was
one the one with the background and the frame of knowledge for this situation,
but something in the pit of her stomach, rolling about and slamming into the
thin wall keeping acidic juices from blood and flesh, was making her uneasy.

“Before
you go any further, I want you to know that I do agree with you, Virginia. It’s
a very bad idea.” JW’s voice was matter-of-fact.

“Then
why the hell do you want to do it?” Chris’s eyes were wide and her facial
expression screamed ‘
he’s a fucking idiot’.
Virginia could see the unspoken
words in her significant other’s face. When she didn’t get a response, Chris
continued her rant. “Seriously, why the fuck would you do something that you
think is a bad idea?”

“Chris
watch your language,” Virginia whispered harshly, cocking her head pointedly at
Bonnie who was still in the vehicle with Ranger.

Chris’s
gaze flicked to the young girl, but she shrugged noncommittally. “Sorry, but
he’s being a dumbass. He thinks it’s a bad idea and he’s asking us to just
follow along like good little minions?” Her foot kicked the small parcel hard
and it jumped a few inches in the air.

“You’re
the dumbass!” Bonnie was nearly yelling and the sound ricocheted off the walls
of the delivery truck. She was still standing inside between the now
nearly-bare shelving. “He saved you. He’s freaking bleeding and banged up from
getting you out of that stupid hospital.”

“Bon—”
JW didn’t even get her name out.

“No,
don’t call me kid or tell me to calm down or anything. She,” Bonnie pointed at
Chris, “was added to our group. She’s not in charge. She’s ungrateful and
doesn’t know a thing about survival but acts like she does. I’ve only known her
a few hours and I’m already sick of her!” The young girl was shaking with repressed
rage and JW got the feeling that only part of it was because of the know-it-all
doctor. “And…” Bonnie had gone from nearly screaming to mumbling, “…she took a
whole cookie, JW. She didn’t even think to share it with anyone or ask when the
last time we’d eaten was.”

Ah,
there it is
, JW thought.
The kid is hungry. I can’t say I blame her. All
she’s had is a cookie in the past twelve hours or so.

Bonnie’s
shaking was increasing and her knees were visibly bending. JW was sure she was
going to keel over at any second. “Sweetie,” it was Virginia that approached
the upset child, “do you get weak when you haven’t eaten in a while?” Crawling
up into the back of the delivery truck, Virginia stayed on her knees and patted
the floor in front of her. Bonnie dutifully sat, her outburst was fully over
and only now did everyone realize how pale she was.

Chris
stepped forward. “Hypoglycemia?”

“I
think so. Fasting hypoglycemia.” Virginia had her fingers pressed against
Bonnie’s wrist. “JW, do you have anything to eat? Even a hard candy or
something?”

JW
shook his head. “Nothing. Food is definitely priority one once we get into
Tyler.”

“Bonnie,
you just need to take it easy until we find you something to eat, okay?”

“I
have something.” Chris was moving past JW, looking uneasy. Reaching into the
right pocket of her pants, she pulled out a somewhat smashed chocolate bar. “I
forgot I had it until you mentioned candy. There’s this broken vending machine
in the hospital and I basically ate everything out of it hiding in the construction
zone before JW…” Chris trailed off, realizing that Bonnie was giving her a
dirty look. Chris scratched her head, embarrassed. “Look, I wouldn’t have taken
one of the cookies had I remembered. I’m not that much of an ass.”

“I’m sure
everyone believes it was an honest mistake, Chris. Can I have the chocolate
please?” Virginia held her hand out for the candy. Her body language was
another matter—Chris could tell that even her fiancé didn’t one hundred percent
believe she’d forgotten about a king sized Kit-Kat in her pocket.

Once
Bonnie was eating the chocolate, breaking off small pieces and chewing them
slowly like she’d never had the coated-wafer candy before, JW got back to
business.

“So,
are we heading to Tyler then?” Again, although he said it in the form of a
question, everyone now knew that it wasn’t a question, it was JW informing them
of his plan. Their plan.

“I
still think—” Chris started protesting, but then slammed her lips together at
the exasperated and tired looks that everyone gave her. Even Ranger joined in,
letting loose with a low warning growl.

“Look,
it’s simple survival. Let me spell it out for you. Our two M-16s are our only
main battle rifles and our best bet for getting across half a continent teeming
with monsters. Without ammo, they’re nothing more than blunt clubs. I would
feel a great deal more hopeful about our chances if we had a case or two of
ammo. I’m betting that old Bud has got a stash at his shop somewhere.”

“How
far is Tyler? And you know it’s probably already been ransacked,” Chris said
defensively.

“I
don’t know how far, but we picked up an atlas at a gas station yesterday and
this truck was delivering that package today, so it can’t be a long way off. As
for the store already being looted—shit hit the fan so fast. From what we’ve
seen…” JW emphasized the ‘we’ve seen’ to point out that Chris had been stowed
away in a hospital for more than twenty-four hours before he’d rescued her; she
hadn’t seen the ripple of destruction outside in the world, “…this spread so
quickly that most folks didn’t have time to prepare or loot stores for
supplies. This is a good bet.”

“Gambling
is more like it and with our lives.”

“Anytime
you want to bail…everyone here has a choice. Except Bonnie. The kid’s staying
with me.” Ranger barked. “Dog too. So anytime you or Virginia want to bail.”

“I’m
not going anywhere,” Virginia piped up.

Chris
sighed. “Look, I don’t want to go anywhere either.” Her gaze fell on Virginia,
still kneeling in the back of the truck next to Bonnie who was now sitting up,
her cheeks once again rosy with life. “I just don’t want us to be in the middle
of a big mistake either.”

“You
think I do? Every choice we make in this situation comes with risk. Sometimes,
it’s calculable risk, sometimes it’s not. If we do make a mistake, won’t it be
better to do it with a fully-loaded magazine?”

That
was a point even Chris couldn’t argue.

The
drive to Tyler was an hour and a half long. Everyone slept except JW. Even
Ranger snoozed, curled up beside Bonnie on the floor. When the delivery truck
arrived at the outskirts of town, JW pulled alongside the large wooden welcome
sign and shut the engine off. The town was his idea, but no way was he
exploring it in the dead of night.

* * *

CHRIS

I knew
this was going to be a big damn mistake. I thrummed my fingers against the
Berretta. I held it loosely at my side, safety on. JW had to check again if I
knew how to use it. If he asked me one more time, he’d know beyond a shadow of
a doubt that I knew how. I’d paid good money for that damn course. It wasn’t
some pansy housewife deal.

Morning
light hurt my eyes as we trudged towards the gun shop, the door of which was
ajar. I couldn’t help glancing at the UPS truck that was parked across the
street. We should move it; butt it right up against the entrance to this store
so we can get the hell out if necessary. We’d only seen a few Z’s so far…that
didn’t seem right. It made me uneasy.

So
far, every place we’d entered had been a total mess. The drug store wasn’t even
accessible, its door blocked by a full metal barrier that was padlocked at the
bottom. I’d joked about shooting the lock. JW had given me an earful for that
and Virginia had gone pale as a ghost. I’d only been kidding. I didn’t want to
attract unnecessary attention any more than they did. Absentmindedly as we
walked, I wondered if whoever was supposed to open the pharmacy the day
everything went to hell had just died too soon to get to work. That was a
morbid thought. Maybe whoever it was had survived and run for the hills so to
speak.

A car
had driven through the front of the small convenience store and we could see
several Z adults ambling about inside, so we hadn’t taken the risk of working
our way between the busted-up wall and banged-up sedan. Even though I’d spotted
pork rinds and canned ravioli—the breakfast of champions—and tried to argue
that we could handle a few of the monsters to get some food.

Bonnie
was the one that had spotted the burger joint right after I’d dropped my
argument with JW over going into the convenience store. That had made me feel a
bit stupid.

The
small eatery was also a mess—although that chaos had been worth sifting through
to get several bags of slightly stale hamburger buns, condiments, canned Spam,
and baked beans. We drank our fill of tap water and JW filled the fluid bladder
in his pack, despite the drinking hose being shot. I worried about the water,
but we had to stay hydrated. The body could go a lot longer without food than
water and still operate normally.

While
Virginia was drinking, I absentmindedly read the stained menu on the counter in
front of me. What I wouldn’t have given for one of the home-style burgers on
the menu—double patty topped with a slice of fried spam, an over-medium egg, a
fat slice of cheddar, and choice of condiments. God, it sounded like heaven.

The
raw meats were pretty well ruined since the fridge was propped open by a
half-eaten body still wearing a paper chef’s cap. The frozen foods were covered
in frostbite and might have thawed okay and been edible, but JW had nixed
bringing along perishables.

We’d
eaten two of the cans of spam sitting in the diner. Not sure how we managed it
with the stench of bodily fluids filling our nasal cavities, but we had. We’d
all just been so hungry. Me less than the others. I’d at least had access to
vending snacks while holed up in the hospital. Bonnie’s stomach had been
rumbling like crazy—even after she’d eaten two makeshift sandwiches of
room-temperature meat and brown mustard. Her nostril had flared at the mustard.
I don’t think she’d ever had it before. It’s not really a kid-friendly
condiment. She hadn’t complained. I’d give the kid that—she wasn’t a complainer.

I’d
felt a number of things watching the girl eat. Envy for one. JW only rationed
us out one sandwich and she got two piled high with meat. Guilt, for begrudging
a child a second helping. And then there was a niggling need to prove to this
girl that I wasn’t a waste of space. I could see it from her perspective. From
all of their perspectives. I’d been rescued, selflessly, by JW at the behest of
Virginia and all I’d done since being added to their ranks was argue and think
of myself.

Shit.

JW was
just in charge? De-facto leader because he was a man and used to wear a
uniform? I hated masochistic bullshit like that.

What I
hated more was the way Virginia was deferring to him. She was a strong woman,
always had been. Now, in this situation, she was acting like because this guy
saved her life, that she owed it to him to be a good little follower. I refused
to believe that she really would stay with him instead of go with me if it came
to that. I know she wanted to speak up more, say that she didn’t want to head
to Tyler. He shut her down, though.

That’s
what most men were like.

And
that’s why I preferred women—aside from my anatomical preferences of course. In
that arena, women were just more…satisfying. In every way.

When
we’d stepped out of the dinner after eating, we took a moment and really
digested what we were seeing along with the food we’d hastily eaten.

The
whole town looked like a warzone, and it was obvious that the Texans from Tyler
hadn’t gone down without a fight.

Rotting
corpses were everywhere and so were carrion birds. Vultures by the hundreds
scattered as we began to walk. JW’s eyes were squinting and his face was set in
hardened emotion, like crying concrete. You couldn’t see the tears, but I knew
they were there. I realized that he’d probably seen things like this—the death
and carnage. The aftermath of tragedy. I wasn’t used to it. I never wanted to
be used to it. It was like something out of an old history book. The Roman
legions had ransacked a city, the dead were scattered in the streets. Children,
adults, domestic animals. All dead. Blood pooled in the spaces between
cobblestones, waiting on a good rain to wash away the carnage.

I’d
liked history in school.

I
didn’t like it now.

Still,
I could compartmentalize it. I could move forward from the wreckage. That was
who I was, how I survived losing a patient and not quitting medicine.

“Wait.”
JW had his hand up, fist raised and elbow crooked. He tilted his head and
closed his eyes for a split second. “Nothing. There have to be survivors or
even Z’s out here. Those few in the store can’t be everything that’s left.” His
eyes open again, JW looked up, studying higher windows of the buildings around
us. He moved slowly in a circle. “Maybe hiding in one of these buildings. There
has to be someone here. Even one person. Someone had to survive.”

I
could hear it in his voice, how desperately the old soldier wanted at least one
person to have survived the destruction in Tyler. I didn’t understand that
want, that need. If they were all dead, how did that affect us? We were alive,
weren’t we? Why should we wait and worry? He was staring intently at one
particular window now. It was broken, the iron bars that were once behind glass
fully exposed. Squinting, I saw the very tip of a gun barrel poking from
between two bars. It didn’t seem to be moving.