Lovin' in the Apocalypse Ch. 16

"Do you think it's a trap?" Tom asked, his finger resting near the trigger of his gun.

"Maybe," Gregg answered. "If they're still alive and not beat all to hell."

"Let's flank the car," Kenneth added. "If they made it out, there's bound to be some blood to follow."

"True," Gregg said. "Alright, let's do it safely."

The men got out of the truck with rifles aimed at the crash. They could hear a loud hissing as fluids poured out onto an overheated engine. There was no stink of leaking fuel so the fear of an explosion was low. They still kept their distance from the car while they slowly circled it. The scene was calm and ominously still. The men could tell that the area had been abandoned even before their eyes confirmed it. Even though the immediate area was clear, none of them relaxed. They were close to their target now.

"Got something here," Bruce said, pointing down at the ground.

"It's blood," Gregg confirmed, squatting down to see it closely. "Fresh too. Look, it's pretty obvious which way they went."

The trail of blood drops was a zigzagging arrow, aimed right at the abandoned building. All the men in the group looked at it with feelings of unease. They had managed to catch some of the bandits off guard at the gas station. This person was not only aware of them, they were also prepared to fight. Storming into this place would likely get them hurt or worse. The afternoon sun was sinking down, threatening them with looming evening shadows. The window of opportunity was closing.

With a rough plan of attack, Gregg loaded his makeshift unit into the truck and began to approach the store. He felt his skin crawling with anticipation and instinctively knew that there was at least one gun aiming in his direction. He wondered if it was pointed at his back. This would be the perfect time for these strangers to assassinate him and Tom. Especially if they were coordinating with the raiders. If this was an elaborate trap, they could not have counted on a car crash. If they had planned an ambush, their plan was now in shambles. He remembered the way the three of them had opened fire on that man in the station. In hindsight, it did seem a little bit like overkill.

Gregg stopped the truck a few hundred feet away from the dark building. He quickly slid out of the seat, taking cover behind his open door. The rest of the men did the same; they held their breath and made no unnecessary noises. Gregg placed his rifle in the crack of the door and scanned the building through the ACOG scope. While he watched, Tom and Stephen moved to the right and the other two sprinted left. Gregg waited until both pairs were in cover before he moved his gun barrel away from the front of the store.

Trusting in the cover from his team, Gregg moved straight for the front of the store. He placed a shoulder against the side of the building, facing the entrance. He could see the blood trail left by the person they were chasing--a smear of red on the door handle. He waited for the others to join him with his weapon ready to fire. They circled the store, checking the surrounding area for traps, and then grouped up on Gregg. They whispered for a few seconds and prepared to storm the building.

On the hill, unnoticed by the men focused on the store, an infected man stumbled up over the crest. He had been drawn by the sound of the wreck. The crash itself offered nothing of interest for the infected, but the humans running around down below were a different story. The infected man felt its insides churn with starvation and knew the warm bodies would fill that emptiness. A moan of agony escaped the creature and it lurched into motion. Behind the infected man, a parade of hungry creatures followed along. They too were curious about the noise from a few minutes ago.

"On three," Gregg whispered, his hand on the handle of the front door.

Stephen nodded. He had offered to be the first one in and no one argued. They needed to make sure Dave died without spilling the beans. He looked eager with his rifle stock snug against his chest. His eyes were dancing in excitement.

"One."

All the men took a deep breath, pre-battle adrenaline flooded into their systems.

"Two."

Safety switches clicked and weapons rose.

"Three!"

Gregg pulled the door open and Stephen moved forward. His rifle was ready but the man never got a chance to pull the trigger. As soon as his profile was squared in the doorframe, a burst of automatic gunfire opened up from the darkness inside. Stephen jerked on the spot as bullets tore into his exposed flesh. The body armor he wore did nothing to stop the ones that flew through his neck, arms and legs. Stephen made a sound of surprise and then toppled as if his bones had disappeared.

"Oh, shit!" Gregg cried out as he fell back.

The other men ducked and moved away from the door. In this moment of wild scurrying, Tom took a look around, and saw the mob of infected. They were close now, already near the truck and its still open doors. Tom knew they had no chance of making it to the truck, nor could they go inside the store. The recent shooting was already making the mob move faster, they had seconds to react.

"Gregg!" Tom shouted, making his partner aware of the threat.

"Fuck me," Gregg groaned.

"Come on!" Tom said, tugging on Gregg's arm. "There's got to be a roof access ladder!"

They hurried around the building, no longer cautious about the hidden man. The looming infected were more dangerous than a single gunman. Tom and Gregg flew around the building and spotted the gated metal ladder that was attached to the store. Without hesitating, Gregg aimed his rifle at the padlock and fired a single bullet. It was a good shot, the lock shattered and fell away. They began to climb as Kenneth and Bruce came running around from the opposite side. Bruce had the good sense to close the safety gate before joining Tom and Gregg on the roof.

The four of them laid on the backs, panting from the exertion of the panicked escape. Luckily for them, the sun was setting on this unreasonably long day. At least for now, they did not have to worry about being cooked. The cries of the infected were all around them now. The store was completely surrounded and the truck was too far away to make a run for it. They were stuck up here, but knew it was about to be a lot worse for the person inside the building. Staying quiet and still, the four men listened to the last minutes of their target's life.

Dave felt sweat pouring out of his whole body. His limbs were trembling like he was in a freezer. Thoughts swam in his head like slow, buzzing insects. He could not remember why he felt hunted, but knew the danger was real. The gun he recently used, felt too heavy and ungainly in his soaked palms. It had worked perfectly though--chewing up the invader that tried to come into his safe place. Dave clung to the small machine gun as if it was a lifeline. He could see the shapes of more attackers surrounding his place. It made him feel angry.

"Come on," he muttered with a feverish voice. "I'll show you a thing or two."

The business end of his weapon swayed while he trained it on the front door. He could not see through the murky glass but the silhouettes of infected humans were obvious. He waited until one was in front of the door and squeezed the trigger. Several bullets rushed from the gun, the recoil caused it to rise, but most of his shots hit the target. Unfortunately for Dave, it also shattered the glass door. The infected human he shot, fell forward and joined Stephen's unmoving body. Another being quickly stepped in front of the door and sneered in at the human.

"I'm so hungry," the infected woman said. "Please?"

"Eat this," Dave groaned and fired again.

One by one, infected humans died in front of the store. Dave's mind was starting to wake up and he suddenly realized what he was fighting against. The realization sent him into a panic. He did not have enough ammo to fight a horde. Plus, every shot he fired, would bring more of them. Dave cried out in pain as he stood up off the crate he had been sitting on. He needed to find a way out of here before he was surrounded. He limped to the back of the store and dread fill his bowels. The emergency exit had been chained closed with an enormous lock. He did not have time or a coherent state of mind to consider breaking it.

Dave spun around, feeling his hurt leg buckle under the weight. He cried out and stumbled. The MP5 slipped from his grip when he tried to break the fall. He heard the sound of metal sliding on tile and knew his weapon was lost. It was far too dark to see and the sound of hungry infected people was filling the building. Dave's breathing became labored as the reality set in for him. When the first of the monsters limped into the stockroom, he began to cry.

"No, please don't," Dave sobbed.

"I'm hungry," a woman with bloody hair and a missing eye said, matter-of-factly.

"No, you can't! E! E, help! There's one in here! Andy? Please, help me!"

The infected took a few steps towards him and Dave saw another one come in through the open door. He tried to stand again but his leg would not take any weight. There was nowhere for him to run--a press of bodies closed in on the stock room's only available door. More mouths than he could count were grinning at him with evil intentions. A mind numbing fear settled into Dave and he knew he was about to die. Worse, he was going to be ripped apart while still alive. He was going to feel it, there was no escape.

"No!" Dave screamed. "Fuck you!"

He shoved his body back as the first infected tried to fall on him. He barely avoided the crashing weight and was immediately pressed by the next infected person in line. It lurched at him with its black mouth open. Dave brought his hands up and grabbed it by the neck. He had just enough strength to hold its snapping jaws away from his face. He bared his own teeth at the monster and roared his defiance up at it. His arms were shaking with fatigue, survival instinct was all that was keeping this mouth away.

Dave felt the weight of something grab his shattered leg. The pain of it made him scream and he felt his strength waver. In an instant, the fight was over.

"AhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!"

The man's screams took on a new octave when several sets of teeth bit into his flesh. A terrible ripping followed the piercing agony and all Dave knew was pain. His humanity fled, leaving behind a shell of a human to wail out the rest of its life. He felt himself being consumed, torn, pulled apart, but any understanding was far beyond his reach. All that existed was pain. His scream became a gurgle and in his last moments of life, Dave saw Andy's face. She was glaring at him from the other side of the vail. Her face held a slight smile of satisfaction.

*