The Infected (Book 3): Nightfall Read online

  Jim leaped to his feet, but was still in a crouched position, he caught the shotgun by the stock and aimed the hammer-fist at the Stranger’s knee. When Jim made contact with the knee cap it made a gut churning snapping sound. The Stranger squealed in agony and pulled the trigger on his gun. The shot destroyed a nearby glass display case of sunglasses. Jim cocked his fist and landed another strike dead center in the weasel’s chest. A deep sounding crack resonated out of the Stranger’s torso. All of the air huffed from his lungs like a bellows. Jim knew the man couldn’t breathe so he used this moment to yank the gun from his hands. Sara saw her opportunity to thank the man for a wonderful time and she delivered an elbow up into his dick and balls.

  As the Stranger stepped back, the blunt force trauma to his knee caused it to buckle. He fell straight back onto the floor. He gasped, one hand clutching his wrecked nut-sack the other held tight to his sternum. The weasel wasn’t going anywhere.

  Jim fumed. A rage burned inside. The same white hot flame he felt when he first saved Sara in the graveyard. He helped her up to her feet and released the shotgun into Sara’s hands.

  “Holy shit, Jim! I was wondering why you were so quiet.” Frank called out across the shop, he had only seen Jim fight against the zombies and couldn’t believe the speed and accuracy in which Jim had delivered the strikes.

  Jim let the hammer’s handle slide out the back of his fist as he stepped closer to the Stranger writhing on the floor. He chewed at his bottom lip and fought off the urge to put the hammer through this asshole’s face.

  He took a knee next to the Stranger and grabbed him by the throat. As Jim leaned closer to the weasel’s face he held the hammer in the air. Threatening to lay it down at a moment’s notice.

  “Where are the keys?”

  The Stranger coughed out a few half words but he was in no condition to talk yet. Jim released the man’s neck and searched his pockets for the keys to the cuffs.

  “What should we do with him?” Sara asked as she helped lift Frank to his feet. Jim found the keys in the Stranger’s back pocket.

  What should we do?

  How do you handle a man like this?

  Can’t take him to jail. I can’t kill him either.

  He tossed them up and Sara snatched the keys out of the air. She released Frank from his shackles.

  “I got a couple of ideas!” Frank launched himself across the floor and dropped the heel of his boot into the man’s ribs. A triplet of cracks popped from the Stranger’s ribcage. Another set of zombies hit the gate at the front door. If they didn’t get going fast they would have another horde of sixty waiting for them outside.

  Frank pulled his Beretta and held it an inch from the Stranger’s forehead. “You want to hurt someone you sick son-of-a-bitch?!” Frank’s gun shook wildly. He quickly switched up his grip and added his second hand to the butt of the gun.

  “Frank, don’t do it!” Jim’s voice called to him softly.

  “You want him to hurt someone else?” Frank pressed the barrel down onto the Stranger’s skin.

  “What if your wife and kids walked in here before us?” Sara was on Frank’s side and her point was valid. Jim knew what he wanted to do, but would killing this man, no matter how horrible he was, feel right in the end?

  Could I live with the knowledge that I killed a man?

  No.

  No matter how bad it is out in this new world, Jim Blackmore is no killer.

  “I made a promise to someone today,” Jim said as he backed away and headed for the counter that held the pistols.

  “Are you serious?” Sara’s jaw dropped.

  “No one is watching us!” Frank pushed the gun even harder against the Stanger’s skull.

  “Pl….please…” the Stranger coughed up blood onto his own face.

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don’t get to beg for mercy!” Frank cracked the barrel of his gun across the top of the Stranger’s noggin.

  “We have to-” Sara followed after Jim.

  Jim cut off Sara, turned and swiftly got right in her face, “You want to kill him?!” Jim’s face was all fury. It took Sara’s breath away. “You want to be a monster like him?”

  Sara caught her breath and stood her ground, “We can’t let him hurt anyone else!”

  “Are we doing this?!” Frank looked over his shoulder for the go ahead to end this creep.

  “We’re wasting time, let’s get the shit we came for and leave.” Jim reached out and grabbed Sara by her shoulder. He nodded his head at her. It was an old sales technique he learned years ago from his manager, Bill. Get the customer nodding yes and they are more likely to agree with you and buy whatever stupid thing you are showing them. “Devon’s waiting for us. We are still alive and we aren’t like the monsters out there.” Jim pointed towards the gate. “We need to hold onto that for as long as we can.” Jim’s words rang true.

  Sara wasn’t a killer and nor was Frank. They were caught up in the fear. The adrenaline sizzling in their veins only fed their desire for vengeance. Jim was right, no matter how bad it was out in the world they had to do their best to stay humans.

  Sara’s eyes narrowed as she mulled over the dilemma, “Frank, find your ammo and let’s go. We don’t have to kill him, but he’s not coming with us either,” Sara gave the order and this was her compromise.

  Frank’s spine straightened and he lifted the gun away from the Stranger’s forehead. He was not used to being ordered around, but she said it with such authority that he listened.

  Frank slid his Berretta back into its holster, “They’re right. You’re not worth the bullet.” He raised his hand towards Sara, “Cuffs?” he asked. She handed him the steel restraints that were just around his wrists. Frank grabbed the Stranger by the collar and pulled him across the floor. Every move caused him to yelp like an injured dog. Frank pulled him over to a heavy-duty gun safe behind the counter. Frank propped him up against it. He locked the cuff around one of the Stranger’s wrists and then onto the handle that was bolted to the door. Frank gave it a good yank and the handle was solid.

  He did not waste anymore time with the Stranger. Frank flicked a set of switches and the place filled with bright fluorescent light. The back of the store had a small office and on the far wall was a selection of army surplus duffle bags. “Both of you grab a bag.” Frank cased the place and found exactly the stashes he was looking for.

  The crew made speedy work of filling the green canvas bags. Frank pointed out and grabbed plenty of shotgun shells, nine-millimeter rounds, and ammo for his SKS. They also snatched up a fresh set of pistols, plus matching holsters, for everyone. They kept the weasel’s shotgun, grabbed another assault rifle, it looked similar to an M16, but Jim couldn’t be sure and didn’t want to waste time asking what everything was. Frank also pulled down a large hunting rifle with a powerful scope attached and a large case of its ammo. It took only five minutes to fill their bags and hands to the limit of what they could carry.

  The Stranger had regained control of his lungs, “Please, do not leave me here!” he begged.

  The crew did not answer or even look at him. Jim picked up his spear and used it to take down the small horde that had gathered by the entrance. A dozen thrusts through the gate and he had cleared out all of the infected.

  The Stranger franticly pulled at his shackled wrist, “You can’t leave me! Please don’t go! I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t really going to do it. I am a good person. I promise. You said your name was Jim, right? Jim, you have to save me! Please!” The Stranger’s voice cracked under the pressure of his fate.

  Sara used the keys to the cuffs to unlock the gate. “What are we going to do about him?” she asked.

  Jim looked over the store and there was a small display case of cheap looking knives. He popped it open and picked out a small lock-blade with a serrated edge. Jim took a few steps closer to the Stranger and then slid the blade along the floor over next to him.

  “What is this for?” he asked a
s he lifted the knife with his free hand.

  “That’s up to you.” Jim’s words were ice cold. He rejoined his crew at the front door and popped the lock to open the PT Cruiser. As they left the gun shop they made sure to leave the gate wide open. The Stranger’s voice called and pleaded after them long after they had gone.

  CHAPTER 9

  Leon sunk the last screw into the last plank of wood that secured the last window of the house.

  Finally done!

  The place was a fortress. Kind of. They needed to get a little better lock system on the front door, but the windows could handle a good sized horde without a breach.

  Karen gave Leon a tired thumbs up. She needed the strongest cup of coffee on the planet. Exhausted was not a strong enough word to describe her. Way past any point she had ever felt before, including popping both of her children out. But the day wasn’t over yet. There were a handful of hours left and Karen really wanted a vehicle lined up just in case they had to make a fast escape. That meant sending Leon out to find a car.

  Would he go alone?

  Without backup, going alone might be a death sentence.

  There was no one else to send. Troy was laid out on the couch watching cartoons with the girls. He was one notch above a teenage babysitter at best. He was in no condition to run and fight. Was it worth the risk to step outside and help Leon find them a ride, just so they had a chance to escape if the worst was to happen? The worst almost happened earlier today when the apartment was smashed in. If it wasn’t for Troy they would have died.

  Running on foot with the girls is not an option.

  If they found a decent set of wheels on this block, depending how fast Leon was able to hotwire the vehicle, they might make it back in under a half an hour. The first thing they needed to do was clear out the garage to fit the new car. Plus they would need to find Penny’s spare garage door opener, so that if a legion of the dead were in hot pursuit they wouldn’t have to get out of the car to get back inside.

  Leon peeled off his sweat soaked dress shirt and laid it on the kitchen counter. His undershirt was a tank top that revealed his lean muscular arms. A poorly drawn black tattoo covered his left shoulder. It read “Light on my feet, but heavy on the gas”.

  The wording perplexed Karen so much that she couldn’t help herself but ask, “What’s that mean?” She pointed at his shoulder.

  Leon looked at his shoulder as if he totally forgot that he was the proud owner of this baffling work of art. He grimaced. “I was drunk and I thought I was being clever. The first line is about being a thief, like faster than the law. The second line was to symbolize my skills behind the wheel, you know how I’m good at high speeds and racing.” Leon flashed a crooked unsure smile at Karen.

  “Oh, okay I get it now.” Karen couldn’t hide the smile that grew with every passing second.

  “Yeah, that’s what it was supposed to mean, but when you read it sober it sounds like I’m a dancer and that I have a digestive track problem.” Leon’s crooked smile changed to a pout.

  The smile on Karen’s face exploded into a full blown laugh at the top of her lungs. It was her first real laugh in quite a while, but she felt bad that it was aimed at Leon’s misfortune, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” She bit both of her lips together to keep them from grinning ear to ear.

  “It’s alright. It is a little funny. That’s the problem. Guys read it and they no longer take me serious.” Leon could see how hard Karen was fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s fine, get it out of your system.” As she giggled it made him start to giggle too. It was contagious. He pointed at his other shoulder, “I thought about getting the words Twinkle Toes and Toot Pants on this shoulder.”

  That made her laugh even harder. Karen needed it and it helped wake her back up.

  “That’s so funny. Sorry. Thank you for that.” She covered her mouth and got control of herself.

  “I’m glad I could help. Now what do we need to do?” Leon said as he picked up his shirt and slid it on to his thin frame. He did it only to cover up the bad tattoo because he was still hot as hell from all the construction work.

  “Let’s clear a space in the garage for our new ride. Then we’re hitting the street to find us something just in case we need to get the fuck out of here in a hurry.” She talked as she headed for the garage door.

  “Alright, that sounds like a plan. We already cleared up space by using all of the wood so it shouldn’t take too long.” Leon followed right behind her.

  Karen opened the door to the garage and kicked on the light switch, “Some of this is mine and my husband, Jim’s, old furniture.” She headed for an old sofa and end tables that sat close to the garage door. “Maybe we could put these where the stack of wood was and then pile everything else onto it?”

  “Let’s do it,” Leon gave his back a quick pop and then was ready to lift the hunk of furniture.

  They worked quietly and moved the junk away from the garage door. Some of the possessions were still brand new in their boxes. Leon lifted one of the old boxes and looked it over. It was an old fashioned popcorn machine and the box had never been opened. Karen noticed Leon inspecting it.

  “I once said to Mama that it would be fun to do movie nights at her place and we should make popcorn. The next week she got that, but we never scheduled a movie night to use it.”

  Leon set the box down on the sofa and then picked up another box with a bird feeder in it.

  “I told Mama we should try and get some more birds to come around to her house because the girls would think it was fun. So she got that, but we never got around to putting it up.”

  Again Leon set it down and went to move another never opened box. This one was a kit to make clay pots. He picked it up and looked at Karen, “Told Mama it would be fun to make your own pots and then she got this?”

  “Bingo. Mama, had such a big heart and she…” Karen struggled. She had made the deal with her tear ducts and she was about to break it if she wasn’t careful. “She did her best to make everyone happy.”

  “She sounds like a wonderful woman.” Leon set the box down on top of the others. They lined the walls and stacked everything up to the ceiling. Karen tried her best to turn off her thoughts. It took them only a few minutes to get the room cleared out enough to handle any sized ride they came across.

  Karen could feel her ass dragging along the floor. She was beat. Today had been like running a marathon, but she had done nothing to train or prepare for it. She limped her way into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  Leon leaned against the fridge and rubbed at his neck, “What do we have to drink around here?” He didn’t mean water or tea.

  “I think we got a couple bottles of wine in the cupboard.”

  “You think the stores around here would be thick with biters?” He waited for Karen to move away from the sink so he could get his own glass.

  “I don’t know. Why, do you want to make a pit stop and get a bottle of booze?” Karen said with a laugh.

  “After the day we’ve had. I could use a stiff drink. How about you?” Leon slurped down his water.

  “I could use six stiff drinks, but I don’t want to leave the girls for that long.”

  “Maybe we don’t have to go to the store. I bet one of the neighbors has a liquor cabinet we could loot.” Leon raised his eyebrows at her.

  “I bet you know how to pop open doors too, am I right?”

  “I’m no lock picker, but today if no one’s home, I think we can just walk in and take what we need. In and out real slick like before any biters notice.” Leon mimed pouring a drink into his glass, takes a sip of his fake drink, licks his lips and rubs his belly. “Yummy mind numbing booze.”

  “Mama said a couple times that the neighbors five houses down throw a lot of parties. We could hit it first. See if anyone’s home.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s gear up and head out before it gets dark.” Leon put his hand up in the air for her to give it five. Seeing Leon
’s hand up in the air reminded Karen of Jim. Her husband prided himself on giving the best high-fives. Karen raised her hand to meet his in the middle of the kitchen.

  Slap!

  It was a damn good fiver.

  Jim would have been proud.

  Karen searched the kitchen drawers. She dug to the back of every one of them until she found the second remote to the garage. It was in the last drawer. Of course. She checked it to make sure it had a fresh set of batteries. She tapped the button and heard the garage door start to open. Karen quickly tapped it again and it came to a stop. One last tap and the garage closed. She tucked the opener into her pocket. Karen checked and then rechecked all three magazines for her gun. They were loaded and ready to jack up any infected monster that crossed her path.

  Leon slid his suit jacket back on. He grabbed a set of pliers and a few screwdrivers from the tool belt and tucked them into his jacket. Then he slung one of Troy’s bandoliers over his shoulder. He looked the shotgun over and familiarized himself with its workings and popped a few new shells up into the pipe.

  Click Clack! Leon was ready to roll.

  Karen took a knee in front of Troy. She had a fresh icepack for his head, “I have to step out for a minute to get us some new wheels.” Karen helped him replace the pack on his forehead, “Don’t go outside, just stay here and watch TV with the girls?”

  “Okay, I feel a little better than before.” Troy had a sharper gaze than he did an hour ago, but he wasn’t all the way back yet.

  “That’s good. The girls have been fed and I just took them to the bathroom.” She switched to her girls and drew their attention off the TV with a snap of her fingers. “Girls, Uncle Troy is still hurt. I need you to be good and keep an eye out for him. You’re my little doctors, so take care of him, okay?”

  “Yes, Mama. Can we still watch Dora and take care of Uncle Troy?” Valerie’s eyes darted around the room from Troy, to the TV, to Leon and then back to her Mama.