《Dark Winter》 ONE ¡°Dad? Dad please pick up, pick up.¡± Katie Fox shook her cell phone, willing her father to answer. The roar of the storm was loud, drowning out his voicemail message. The freezing rain came down in sheets of thick needles that crashed against the Plexiglas roof of the bus stop. The wind was nearly as bad as the ice, blowing straight through her parka. It was too late to get back on the warm bus. Its tail lights were barely visible through the storm now, even this late at night. ¡°Don¡¯t cry,¡± she told herself, sniffing back tears that threatened to fall as she shoved the cell into her pocket. ¡°Think like dad. Think.¡± Around her, there was nothing but darkness. The power grid had evidently gone out, as all the street lights were off. There wasn¡¯t a lit sign anywhere that she could see. It was over five miles from the bus stop to her father¡¯s cottage, but he likely wasn¡¯t there anyway. He¡¯d be further in, where he always was. Katie had to get there, or she¡¯d freeze to death. Digging into her backpack she pulled out the beat-up compass he¡¯d given her a decade ago and oriented herself in the right direction. The cottage was due northeast of the bus stop. She¡¯d go there first, it was easier to find. Music filled her ears and she scrambled to pull her cell out of her pocket again. She nearly answered it without checking, thinking it was her father. The name Candace Dougherty filled the screen instead and Katie quickly canceled the call. Her mother could go to Hell. She shouldered her pack and double-checked her heading once more before ducking out into the storm. Her knit cap quickly became soaked and frozen. Her lungs felt like painful blocks of ice after just a few minutes and she ducked beneath the overhang of a strip mall. Coughing and shivering, she sank to her knees and tried to get herself back under control. There was no way she was going to make it all the way to the cottage on her own but there was no one to help her. Despite being Black Friday, the storm cut the power to the area and driven everyone home. ¡°Shit¡­ shit shit shit,¡± she said, gripping her head with her hands and willing the shivering to end. Once it did, she tried her father again. This time it went immediately to voicemail. He was in the bunker then for sure. Fuck. Light caught her eye and when she looked up, she saw a car pulling into a gas station a few blocks up. The lights over the pumps weren¡¯t on, but sometimes they operated anyway. The car was idling, the windows fogged with warmth. Leaping up, she ran towards the car, hoping to catch it before it left. Her lungs were on fire as she crossed the first two blocks and she paused to rest. Only then did her father¡¯s warnings come back to her. Never enter an unknown situation in haste. Mount Hope was a small town, the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. She was near the highway however, and this could be anyone who came off the road in search of gas. Katie hugged the wall of Getty¡¯s Pawn Shop and tried to get a good look at the driver through the downpour. It was a woman, small and thin in stature. She appeared to be struggling with the pump and was wearing a good, thick coat like Katie was. There didn¡¯t appear to be anyone else in the car. Katie was beginning to feel the cold right through her coat now, her gloves and cap frozen and wet. If she was going to move, she had to do it now. She hurried towards the car, making as much noise as she could. Her speed was slower than the all-out run she¡¯d started with, hoping it wouldn¡¯t be threatening. The driver still didn¡¯t see her approach and so she called out to her. ¡°Hey! Excuse me!¡± The girl turned and Katie could see she was young, perhaps her own age or a little younger. She was frightened, her eyes wide and startled. Katie held out her hands, palms facing the girl and her fingers spread. ¡°Sorry! I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ like¡­ scare you¡­ I¡¯m just¡­¡± The girl¡¯s face suddenly changed, from frightened to confused and then it changed once more into something akin to wonder. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.¡°Katie? Is that you?¡± Katie stopped just beneath the pump¡¯s overhang. She was breathing hard, the cold working its way deep into her. Her teeth were chattering and her fingers felt numb. The only smell she could make out was the car¡¯s exhaust. The girl stepped around the car and came closer. Her auburn hair was long and tousled, as if she¡¯d pulled a hat off. A spray of freckles crossed her nose and she had the greenest eyes that Katie could never forget. ¡°Lindsay?¡± ¡°Holy shit!¡± Lindsay Volk said, clasping her hands over her mouth. Her nails were very short and had blue nail polish that was cracked and flaking off. Without another word, Lindsay ran up and hugged her, tightly. ¡°Jesus you¡¯re freezing!¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡­ ah¡­¡± ¡°Get in the car, right now! Pray to god this pump works or we¡¯re both fucked.¡± Katie didn¡¯t hesitate and pulled open the passenger side door, then flopped down into it and pulled the door shut behind her. At first, Katie didn¡¯t even feel the warmth. It came to her gradually, slowly, as if the cold had to melt from her skin first. When it came though, she welcomed it. Shedding her wet cap, gloves and coat, Katie tossed them onto the floor mat between her legs. It took her a few moments to stop shivering and in that time Lindsay turned the car off to fuel it. Still, the heat was trapped inside and Katie soaked it in. Her eyes were still closed when Lindsay returned and re-started the car. The heat started up right away, still hot and wonderful. Katie groaned in pleasure. ¡°So¡­¡± Lindsay said. Katie opened her eyes but stared straight ahead as the ice storm smashed against the gas station parking lot. Words refused to come to her. It all felt very surreal. Memories of the last few days came crashing in and she covered her face with her hands, several tears and sobs escaping before she could do a thing about it. ¡°Hey¡­ hey no, Katie¡­ it¡¯s okay. Hey, what¡¯s wrong?¡± She felt Lindsay¡¯s hand on her shoulder, a touch she hadn¡¯t felt in two years. Not since the divorce. Not since she¡¯d been remanded to her mother¡¯s custody. Not since she was forced to move away from her whole life. Without another word, Lindsay drew her into another tight, warm hug. She¡¯d been Katie¡¯s best friend since elementary school. The only girl who hadn¡¯t called her dad crazy when everything hit the fan. The only girl who tried to keep in touch with her after the move. If her mother hadn¡¯t erased Linday¡¯s number from her phone, even all the ones under fake names, she would have called her instead of her dad. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Katie said after a moment and pulled away again. ¡°Don¡¯t be. What¡¯s wrong? Why are you here? In this storm, I mean?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Katie began but stopped, closing her eyes again. She could still hear her mother¡¯s voice, the screaming rage through her locked door, the names she¡¯d been called. Monster. Evil. Unnatural. You are no daughter of mine. ¡°It¡¯s all right. You can talk to me. Remember? Just like always.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Katie said, sniffling. ¡°Like always. I¡­ I ran away. Crazy right? What am I twelve?¡± Lindsay wasn¡¯t laughing at her. She wasn¡¯t even smiling. Her whole face simply showed concern and compassion. She¡¯d been the same way when all the other girls painted ¡®crazy¡¯ on her locker. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°Yeah I¡¯m just¡­ just cold. That¡¯s all. Bus dropped me off and dad didn¡¯t pick up.¡± Katie felt herself flush when Linday put a hand on her cheek, but it subsided once she moved her hand to her forehead. Lindsay took her hands and rubbed at them to get circulation back. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay in a few minutes. We¡¯ll just sit here until you warm up. Do you want me to take you to your dad¡¯s place?¡± ¡°No!¡± she said, her voice feeling too high pitched and too urgent. She blushed again and shook her head. ¡°I mean, no, you don¡¯t have to do that. This storm is crazy, you know? Could you just drop me off somewhere I can be warm while I get a hold of him?¡± ¡°Fuck that, you¡¯re staying with me.¡± ¡°No, Lindsay, c¡¯mon.¡± ¡°It¡¯s already a thing,¡± Lindsay said and put the car in gear. ¡°Besides, in this weather it¡¯ll take us a year to get to your dad¡¯s.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Katie said, but sighed and nodded. Once Lindsay Volk got an idea into her mind, she wasn¡¯t going to be diverted easily. It was part of her charm. She started to drive, the car pulling slowly out onto the road. After a short silence, Katie broke the silence. ¡°So, what the hell are you doing out here anyway?¡± ¡°Hrm? Oh, I was hoping to get up to the Best Buy in Rounders for Black Friday, but then the storm hit. I decided a cheap TV wasn¡¯t worth my neck.¡± ¡°Well¡­ thanks, Lin. Really.¡± ¡°Psh.¡± Lindsay looked over at her and smiled. ¡°I like to think that seeing my best friend after two years is a better deal anyway. Since, you know, you stopped returning my calls.¡± Katie winced and leaned her head against the window. She shut her eyes and tried to think of a good way to explain that, to make sense of it. None of it was easy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. My mother just¡­ well she basically¡­ I¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s not like I was much better, you know? With college prep coming up and¡ª oh shit!¡± Several things all happened at once. The car¡¯s brakes squealed, the car sliding sideways. Time appeared to slow as Katie saw the world spin outside her window. In one heartbeat, she saw the woods looming very close, and in another there was a face covered in blood. She found that her voice was trapped in her throat. There was the sound of metal twisting, popping, bending and a sudden pain in her shoulder. And that¡¯s when she heard the screaming. TWO There was darkness and pain, terrible pain. It burrowed deep, shocking her to the core and exploding into her mind. Rational thought was beyond her. All she could do was draw a breath, first one and then a second. A third. A fourth. Slowly, her mind began to clear. Where am I? What happened? The screaming was so loud. Was she screaming? Katie brought a hand up to her own lips and found them shut tight. Something wet and warm coated her fingers. She tasted copper. Blood. She was bleeding. Her tongue was on fire. Had she bitten it? There was a heavy thump above her, followed by wild, erratic bangs, like someone pounding on a car roof. A car roof. The car. She was in a car. Lindsay¡¯s car! They¡¯d crashed, hit a tree! She had to see if Lindsay was okay, had to just open her eyes and see. It felt impossible, they were welded shut. Her left hand reached up and wiped away something else that felt like blood. How badly was she hurt? The pain in her body erupted again as she reached up with her right arm to do the same. Something felt jammed into her shoulder. Any movement was excruciating. Slowly she opened her left eye and looked down. A shard of glass was protruding from her right shoulder, just below the collar bone. She stared at it, confused, unsure if what she saw was even real. Absently, she reached up with her left hand and touched it. More pain shot through her and she cried out, dropping her left hand into her lap. Bang! Bang! What the hell was that sound? Katie turned her single-eyed gaze up towards the windshield and saw a pair of shredded pants. A smear of blood arched from them to the driver¡¯s side. At first she didn¡¯t understand until she saw that there were stumps of legs in those pants. They twitched. Katie screamed. Above her, the roof dented inward. The legs moved again. Another hard bang and the dent was deeper and the legs once more twitched. Whoever it was, they were alive and banging on the car roof! She had to get out there, help them! Lindsay. She quickly wiped the blood from her right eye with her left arm, drawing her jacket¡¯s sleeve across her face. Her vision cleared and she looked over. Lindsay¡¯s eyes were closed, her arms hanging loosely at her side. The airbag hung limply from the steering wheel and Lindsay had blood on her face. Broken nose. Possible concussion. That first aid training was coming in handy all of a sudden. ¡°Lin? Lindsay! Wake up!¡± Was she dead? No, her chest was moving. She couldn¡¯t tell how much through her jacket, but at least it was moving. She fumbled for her belt as another loud bang brought the roof in closer to her head. ¡°Lin! Lin, wake up!¡± she reached over and nudged her, though she remembered something about not moving someone with a possible neck or spinal injury. Shit, I should call 911. She reached for her phone but it was in her right pocket and any movement from her right arm sent a debilitating shock of pain through her. Sudden, fierce tears stung her eyes. She was hurt and scared and wasn¡¯t sure what to do, but her dad¡¯s voice echoed in her mind. When you were faced with an impossible situation, focus on what you can do right now. She shifted in her seat, leaning across the car¡¯s console and reached up to touch her friend¡¯s cheek. Another bang and she heard something give above her. ¡°Stop!¡± she shouted. The banging came again, and again and again. Louder, faster. Frantic. The roof bent inward in multiple places. Somewhere in her mind, she thought that you had to be awfully strong to do that. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. A window shattered. Katie looked back towards the passenger side door and saw a bloody hand reaching through the broken glass. She was transfixed, unable to look away from the sight of the flesh torn and tattered, peeling away from the bone. The smell of something foul wafted in, mixing with the biting cold. The shards of glass were smeared with dark blood. It didn¡¯t run, or drip like it did in horror movies. She found that maddening. ¡°Lindsay!¡± she shouted again and this time she heard her friend groan. Katie reached down with her left hand and unsnapped her friend¡¯s seatbelt before undoing her own. She slid across the console towards her. Lindsay still wasn¡¯t opening her eyes, but her head had lolled back against the seat. Progress. A hiss, followed by the chattering of teeth grinding together drew her attention back to the window. A man¡¯s face appeared there. His lips were drawn back over yellow teeth and black gums. His eyes were wide open, sunken and glassy. They were dead eyes set in the face of a corpse, and he was forcing himself inside. First, the ruin of his hand came through the window, then a shoulder. The face was pushing through the broken glass, uttering a sound through a ruined throat that was somewhere between a scream and a gasp. ¡°Stay away!¡± she said, but the hand was reaching for her, clutching at her jacket. She pushed herself against the center console and the hand slipped away, leaving a smear of blood. ¡°K¡ªKatie?¡± ¡°Lin!¡± She turned to see Lindsay¡¯s eyes open but unfocused. Her friend looked dazed and barely conscious. Katie felt the man¡¯s hand grasp at her right arm and the pain made her scream. ¡°Wha¡ªwhat is¡­ Mister Turn¡ªTurner?¡± Lindsay was staring past her. ¡°Your hand is bleeding, Mister Turner¡­¡± Katie reached across Lindsay¡¯s lap and pulled the door release, then pushed with her legs to send the door flying open. With her left arm, she pushed at Lindsay, yelling for her to get out. ¡°Katie? What¡­ why is¡­¡± ¡°Get out! Lin, get out!¡± Lindsay partially turned and groaned, half falling out of the car and half laying on the seat. Katie heard her begin to cry. ¡°I¡¯m hurt¡­ Katie¡­ I¡¯m hurt¡­¡± Katie felt the man¡ªwas that really Mister Turner?¡ªgrab at her coat again and heard the glass giving way more and more. He was pulling himself through the broken window! She forced herself to look. Instantly, she knew the image would haunt her for the rest of her life. The skin on one side of his face was pulling off the bone. The jaw was snapping shut over and over as he pulled himself towards her. For a heartbeat, she was too stunned, too filled with fear to act. What is happening? She¡¯d heard what bath salts could do to someone. There¡¯d been a man who ate a homeless man¡¯s flesh while high on the stuff. Is that what this guy was on? The sight of his face, the memory of the homeless man¡¯s pictures before surgery snapped her out of her paralysis. She twisted away from his grasp and then kicked with all her strength. Her boot caught the man in the forehead and she felt something give way. He slid a little further back so she kicked again and again and again. The man howled as he was forced back through the door¡¯s broken window, inch by inch. Katie found herself yelling as well, both in pain from her arm and from fear. She felt like a wild animal fighting to survive. Moments later, she found herself on the road, lying next to Lindsay. She didn¡¯t remember getting out of the car, but her head was pounding. I must have landed on my head, she thought, and rolled over to try and get to her knees. The man was crawling towards them from beneath the car. In an instant, she was on her feet, the adrenaline subduing the pain her arm. She pulled Lindsay up with her left hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her with her left shoulder. ¡°Lin, can you walk? Lin, talk to me!¡± ¡°Huh? Yeah¡­ I¡­ where¡¯s Mister Turner? Is he okay?¡± Katie didn¡¯t bother to explain and began to hobble them away from the wreck. They moved slowly, falling twice, but they cleared the front of the car, crested the ditch and climbed onto the road. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that the man who had been Mister Turner was still crawling towards them. His left arm was missing, and the right was clawing at the ground. He was pulling himself slowly along like a sinking boat trying row through muddy water. She turned away and concentrated on moving one step after the other. The storm had slowed, but the freezing rain continued to soak her clothes and her hair. At this rate, they¡¯d never make the town. They¡¯d freeze to death on the side of the road. A buzzing sensation in her pocket signaled that her phone was going off. She reached into her pocket, her injured arm sending wave after wave of pain through her until she felt like she¡¯d vomit, pass out, or both. Somehow, she managed to pull it free. The incoming call was from her dad. THREE The phone buzzed again and again, but Katie couldn¡¯t will her right arm to bend. She clicked the answer button and thumbed the setting to put it on speaker. She hoped it would be enough. ¡°Katherine?¡± ¡°Dad!¡± she said, shouting above the wind and rain. ¡°Kather¡ªca¡ªear me?¡± The phone was cutting out and she couldn¡¯t see how good her signal was. Beside her, Lindsay was flagging, her legs stumbling more often than walking. They tripped, going to their knees and the phone fell from Katie¡¯s hand, skittering across the road. She cried out and nearly dropped Lindsay in her haste to retrieve it. Hoping her dad was still on the line, she pulled it to her ear with her left hand. ¡°Dad! Dad can you hear me?¡± ¡°Katherine? Can you hear me?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°Thank God, where are you?¡± ¡°We¡¯re on Twenty-Eight!¡± There was a brief pause and Katie feared the connection had been cut. ¡°Dad?¡± ¡°You¡¯re here?¡± She swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Katherine, listen very carefully. How far away from Mount Hope are you?¡± She coughed, trying to ignore the freezing rain that threatened to turn her hands to ice. Turning her head back the way they came and forward again, she searched for a good landmark. There was only forest on both sides, but in the distance she could make out faint light flickering in the darkness. She figured if she¡¯d been three miles from Mount Hope when she¡¯d been dropped off, they¡¯d come roughly a mile in Lindsay¡¯s car. The lights looked about two miles away, so she supposed they hadn¡¯t gotten turned around. ¡°About two miles? Call 911, there¡¯s someone injured back by our car. There was a crash¡ª¡± ¡°911 isn¡¯t going to help,¡± he said in a tone that brooked no argument. ¡°Who is with you?¡± ¡°Lindsay. Dad, we¡¯re both hurt.¡± ¡°How badly? Can you move?¡± She turned her attention to Lindsay. She was still breathing, but her shivering was becoming alarming. When she shook her, Lindsay barely responded. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ Dad I don¡¯t think we can move,¡± she said and once more bit back tears. Her arm throbbed and she began to worry about the dark stain that was growing on her jacket around the wound. How much was she bleeding? She was feeling a little lightheaded. ¡°Okay, damn it. Do not go into Mount Hope, do you understand? I¡¯ll come and get you.¡± ¡°Dad¡­ we hit someone¡­ Lindsay called him¡­ called him Mister Turner?¡± There was another small bit of silence. ¡°How did he look?¡± her dad said, speaking slowly and clearly. ¡°Huh?¡± she said. Her head was feeling fuzzy. She knew that wasn¡¯t a good sign. Either she had a concussion too or blood loss was becoming a real problem. She had to do something, clear her head somehow. ¡°Have you been bitten?¡± ¡°Bitten? What?¡± ¡°Katherine, I need you to listen very carefully. Have you been bitten by anyone?¡± ¡°N-no!¡± ¡°Good. Was Lindsay bitten?¡±¡± Katie frowned. She didn¡¯t understand why he was so insistent but turned her attention on Lindsay. The effort made her dizzy, but she managed to check Lindsay for further injuries and found none. Her friend¡¯s eyes were closed and no matter how much shaking she did, Lindsay wasn¡¯t opening them again. Panic began to seize her. ¡°No, but dad, she¡¯s not waking up!¡± ¡°I¡¯m coming. Can you get out of sight until you see my truck?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡­ I can barely move!¡± ¡°Katherine. Katie. Listen to me very carefully. You have to try. Do not approach anyone but me. Do you understand? I don¡¯t care who it is.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°O-Okay,¡± she said. She shook Lindsay to wake her but nothing happened. The storm was getting worse again, but she was soaked so thoroughly that she hardly noticed. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in twenty minutes,¡± he said and the line went dead. Katie shoved the phone into her jacket pocket. She felt so tired, like she¡¯d just run a hundred miles. Her mind felt fuzzy and her vision was swimming. I have to get out of the rain. That single thought put her into motion, going to her knees first and then to her feet. The wound in her shoulder throbbed as the adrenaline began to drain from her system. It was all she could do not to collapse again. ¡°Lindsay¡­ Lindsay please get up,¡± she said, leaning over to grab hold of the back of her friend¡¯s coat. Could she really drag her ten feet into the woods with one hand? Katie was strong and Lindsay was very petite but she was hurt and only had one hand to leverage. Have to try. Through pain and dizziness, she began to drag Lindsay off the road. Several times, she nearly collapsed, her voice a shrill screech in the still night. That ten feet felt like a thousand, with each step full of agony. Focus on what I can do right now, she told herself over and over. One step. Another. Another. Lindsay was dead weight and the exertion made sweat break out to mix with the freezing rain. She felt warm for the first time since she arrived. By the time they reached the tree line, Katie was so tired that she collapsed into a bank of snow. The shock of pain through her shoulder nearly made her black out and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn¡¯t pull Lindsay any further. The canopy of thick firs blocked some of the storm and she could only hope it was enough. Closing her eyes, she willed her father to drive faster. He would make everything all right. He would know what to do. # She woke suddenly, her heart racing. I fell asleep! Did I miss dad? Momentarily forgetting her injury, she sat bolt upright. The searing pain was so intense that she opened her mouth to scream but the sound stuck in her throat. Tears stung her eyes and began to slide, warm and thick down her cheeks. It felt like an eternity before the pain subsided. She glanced down at her wound. The piece of glass still protruded but her jacket looked no more soaked with blood than it was before. She decided that was a good sign. Lindsay. Her friend lay nearby, unconscious but breathing regularly. She leaned close and felt her breath against her cheek. It was strong, also a good sign. A sound caught her attention and she thought for a moment that her father was arriving. She crawled to the edge of the tree line and looked both ways. Coming towards her from the north was not a car, but people. They were moving slowly, as if in a daze. A collective groan came from a dozen throats. Through the storm it was hard to make out faces. What are they doing out in this? A girl, looking no older than Katie was, paused. Her head swung side to side drunkenly and she was sniffing the air. Pale hands reached up before her, as if they were trying to find an invisible wall. Then she turned and looked straight at Katie. The sound that came from the girl¡¯s throat was not human. It was halfway between a scream and retch. What was worse were how the others all made the same sound, as if answering her. ¡°What the hell is this?¡± she whispered and shifted her weight to move back into the trees. She didn¡¯t know what was wrong with these people but it wasn¡¯t good. Too late. The girl began to run towards her. Almost immediately the rest followed, lurching into motion on stumbling feet. Some slipped and crashed to the ground only to scramble up again. ¡°Oh my God,¡± she whispered and tried to rise, using a tree for leverage. She barely made it to her knees.. The girl leaped across the ditch and landed heavily against her, knocking them both to the ground. Katie landed on her right arm and screamed. Her vision darkened. Don¡¯t black out, don¡¯t black out, she told herself. If she did, she¡¯d die. She wasn¡¯t sure why, but she knew it was true. ¡°Katie?¡± Lindsay¡¯s voice came from nearby. ¡°Lindsay! Lindsay get away!¡± The girl was on her then. Katie spun and threw up her arm, her elbow connecting with the girl¡¯s throat. It didn¡¯t even slow her down. In an instant she was on her again, teeth snapping, fingers clawing for Katie¡¯s face. She heard Lindsay scream but couldn¡¯t look back. It was all she could to do to keep her arm against her attacker¡¯s neck, preventing slavering, clicking teeth from digging into her face. Have you been bitten? Her father¡¯s question rang loud in her mind. It was the only thing that made sense to her in that moment. It was a goal, an objective. Don¡¯t get bitten. The sound of a roaring engine and squealing tires preceded the crunch of flesh and bone. Dad! It had to be him. It had to be! ¡°Dad!¡± she cried out and kicked at the girl on top of her. Her boots connected but the girl was strong and heavy on top of her. She couldn¡¯t budge her, couldn¡¯t move her. ¡°Dad!¡± Lindsay screamed again just before the sound of a shotgun erupted just a few feet away. Katie¡¯s ears rang and she nearly let her defenses drop in shock. Those teeth were inches from her face, snapping, hissing. She turned her head away in desperation. The shotgun went off again and again and again. Another sound thundered nearby and the girl went limp. Pistol, Katie thought. In another instant, the weight was lifted off of her and she sucked in a deep breath. A hand went around her arm and lifted her to her feet. Her right shoulder was numb. She barely felt it as she stumbled against a warm, solid body. She screamed again and began to thrash. ¡°Katie! Katie it¡¯s me!¡± Her eyes opened and she turned to look into the pale, blue eyes of her father. For a moment, she could do nothing, could say nothing. The relief that flooded through her made her catatonic. Her father shook her. ¡°Katie, snap out of it. Were you bit?¡± ¡°What? Huh? Uh¡­ no, no!¡± ¡°Get in the car, go!¡± He turned her around and gave her a gentle shove towards the waiting SUV. She stumbled towards it, focusing on this new objective. Get to the car. Get to the car. She didn¡¯t even remember Lindsay until she pulled the door open and turned to get in. Her father was carrying her in his arms, her face turned against his chest. Katie never knew just how small her friend was until that moment. Like a doll, she thought, numb. ¡°Get in!¡± But Katie was seeing the girl now, as if for the first time. She knew her. It was Samantha Evans. They¡¯d had freshman biology together. Katie borrowed her hair tie for gym. Now she lay in a pool of black blood, a bullet having ripped her skull apart. Her father rounded the car and Katie heard a door open. Somewhere ahead of them, the screeching she heard was eerily familiar. With one last look at Samantha¡¯s corpse, Katie pulled herself into the SUV and slammed the door shut. FOUR Her vision came in patches of light and darkness as consciousness ebbed in and out. Windshield wipers slashed at the snow. Trees rushed past. The faces, however, the faces were the worst. They appeared suddenly, eyes wide with madness instead of terror and were gone with a loud thump that shook the SUV¡¯s entire frame. It shook Katie too, but she found no energy for fear, for anxiety, for remorse. She could only lay there, barely moving. Drawing a breath was hard enough. Antiseptic. She smelled antiseptic. The odor was strong and stung her nose. It overpowered everything. She lifted a hand, her left hand, and saw it was wet with it. Her face too. The taste of it was on her lips. ¡°Awake?¡± The voice was familiar. A man¡¯s voice, strong and clear, yet soft in tone. It was her dad¡¯s voice. Her dad was driving. He¡¯d rescued her. From what? She couldn¡¯t remember and thinking about it was exhausting. ¡°No,¡± she said in response, closing her eyes. ¡®No¡¯ was easier to say than ¡®yes¡¯ but she couldn¡¯t figure out why. ¡°We¡¯re almost there, hang on.¡± She tried to nod, but the moment she leaned her head forward, the darkness reached up and swallowed her. At first, the dreams were chaotic and visceral. They were full of teeth, blackened gums and glassy eyes but soon they solidified into Samantha Evans. She sat next to her in the locker room before gym class and was offering Katie her hair band. Katie reached out for it but something was wrong with Samantha. Her hands were gray, the flesh cracked and peeling. When Katie looked up into her face, the eyes were sunken, the lips pulling back over yellow teeth. Katie screamed and Samantha¡¯s head exploded, the shards of her skull ripping through Katie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she said and the dream was suddenly gone. Large, strong hands were lifting her, carrying her but she couldn¡¯t see where. Her eyes refused to open. She was just so tired. She heard the sound of boots on stone, the creak of a door and then the smell of cut pine. It reminded her of summers with her dad, at the cabin, when they¡¯d hunt and fish together. Good, happy times. ¡°Katie, can you hear me?¡± Her dad¡¯s voice. ¡°Tired,¡± she managed to respond. ¡°We need to get to the bunker, but we can¡¯t take the car there and I can¡¯t carry you both. I¡¯m going to give you a shot. It will wake you up. Just do what I say and everything will be all right. Do you understand?¡± Katie could just make out a shadow looming above her. The words all swam around in her head. Where was she? Why was she there? Samantha¡­ no, Lindsay. Lindsay Volk was with her. Was she all right? She¡¯d been injured. They were both injured¡­ weren¡¯t they? She felt a pinch and something cold slid through her left leg. Her leg turned to ice and within moments the freezing sensation ran straight through her. It was as if she¡¯d been dumped in ice water. Every muscle came alive, her heart pounding with sudden invigoration. She cried out and sat up, the pain in her shoulder dwarfed by the sudden influx of energy. Her vision snapped into sharp focus. She was in a large room, the walls made of stacked wooden logs, the rafters above open and spacious. She was in her dad¡¯s cabin after all. Lindsay was slumping on the couch, eyes open but unfocused. Her father was standing at Katie¡¯s side, his face full of worry. She saw he had a few days of stubble on his face. That was odd. He was a military man, even retired. He never let himself go for even a day. ¡°Katie, we need to move. Do you understand?¡± he said, his voice quiet but urgent.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The memories flooded in and suddenly she remembered everything. The bus trip in, the ice storm, Lindsay¡¯s car, the crash and the attacks. She remembered Samantha most of all, laying in the woods with her head blown open. She turned her gaze on her father. He was wearing one of his old army jackets and had a shotgun over his shoulder on a strap. There was a pistol strapped to his right leg. It was like when they were practicing or when they were teaching others. ¡°Dad? What¡¯s happening?¡± Her voice was shaky, her whole body buzzing. She needed to move, to run, anything. Without waiting for him to answer, she slid off the dining room table where she¡¯d been laying and looked around for¡­ for what? Her father¡¯s hand on her good arm stopped her and he gently turned her towards him. ¡°There¡¯s no time to explain that. We need to get to the bunker, right now. Can you walk?¡± Her legs felt okay, even if they were a little shaky. The protruding glass in her right shoulder wasn¡¯t bleeding and she hardly felt it now, so she nodded. ¡°Good,¡± he said and picked up a black backpack and held it out for her. ¡°Can you carry this?¡± Katie reached out and took the bag in her left hand and carefully slid it onto her shoulder. Pain ran deep beneath the surface of her shot-induced high, but she was able to keep a hold of it. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. My Bug Out bag, she thought. Holy shit. She knew it was serious, knew that something horrific was happening in town but if her father was going to the bunker and grabbing the Bug Outs, that meant he thought it was a catastrophe. The next minute was a flurry of activity as her dad grabbed another pack just like hers and slung it on and then picked up Lindsay. Her friend was conscious but groggy and reached a hand out to her. Katie took it with her left hand and squeezed. ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay,¡± she said, hoping it was true. ¡°My¡­ mom¡­ will worry.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll call your mom soon,¡± Katie said as they moved through the cabin to the back door. Her father got it open and then stepped out into the cold again. ¡°Katie, the power,¡± her dad said. Turning around, Katie found the metal box to the right of the back door. Pulling open the lid, she pulled the kill switch to the cabin¡¯s power. Everything within went dark. Leave no trail, no sign. Her father¡¯s lessons were there and Katie found them comforting. He was ready for things like this. They were going to be okay. The bunker was almost half a mile into the woods behind the cabin. Be close, but don¡¯t be obvious. She knew they were close when she spied solar panels suspended in the canopy above. While not hidden, the panels were hard to spot if you weren¡¯t looking for them. The fir trees were thick here. The snow was deep and barely disturbed. It wasn¡¯t long before Katie found her new energy flagging. Her heart was hammering in her ears and her hands felt like they were on fire. She shivered uncontrollably as they waded through the snow and underbrush. Just when she thought she would collapse, she heard the soft click of a metal lock. The snow shifted just ahead of them, falling away as the bunker¡¯s door lifted up from the ground. That¡¯s new. ¡°Powered garage door opener,¡± her dad said with a grin over his shoulder. ¡°Thought it might come in handy.¡± The door exposed a narrow stairwell of concrete and a heavy metal door at its base. It descended roughly ten feet, though Katie never knew the exact depth of the place. Stepping down one leg at a time, she reached out for the metal handrail for balance. She¡¯d made this descent a hundred times, but she felt dizzy now and very unsure of where her feet were in relation to her body. Once at the bottom, she keyed the code on the number pad next to the door. It didn¡¯t work. She was about to call up to her dad when she remembered that the sequence changed every month. She counted backward from May and then tried again. The satisfying sound of metal unlatching made her smile as she pushed the heavy door inward. It was harder than she imagined and her right shoulder began to scream in pain. Her vision darkened again and for the first time since the shot, she felt the jagged shrapnel dig in. ¡°Inside,¡± her dad¡¯s voice urged her from the stairwell. She felt his guiding hand on her left arm. As she stumbled inside, she heard the door slam shut and lock. The low powered LEDs in the ceiling slowly came to life, dimly illuminating a rectangular room with a couch opposite a small TV. At the end of the room, she could just make out two doors. One would be a door into the living area. The other would be into the radio room and batteries. A switch was thrown and there was a fizzle, followed by a second slamming of metal against metal. He killed the power to the keypad switch outside. We¡¯re sealed in now. They were safe. The very idea made her feel as if her body was emptying, draining out all her energy and wakefulness. She slid to her knees, her Bug Out bag falling from her shoulder. The last sensation she knew before darkness claimed her was the rough feeling of carpet on her cheek. FIVE When she woke again, Katie was warm. It was the type of warmth that promoted turning off the alarm and sleeping until noon. A good, lazy Saturday morning, and when she finally got up, her dad would chide her for being lazy. They¡¯d have a late breakfast of eggs and scrapple and orange juice on the cabin¡¯s porch and let the sun warm her face and brown her skin. The birds would sing in the trees but beyond that, it would be so quiet. Peaceful. Safe. Safe from her mother. Safe from the kids at school who knew. Safe from the mothers who picked up their children instead of letting them ride on the bus with her. Here, no one bothered her. No one knew except Lindsay and they hadn¡¯t even talked about it. Her dad knew, he had to know by now. Didn¡¯t he? She¡¯d talk to him when they went fishing. They always fished in the early afternoon if he wasn¡¯t teaching his survival classes. She loved those too. They taught people how to shoot, how to prepare, how to survive events like¡­ Like this. Her eyes opened and she began to hyperventilate. She was disoriented and for a brief moment she thought the cot above her was the wall. She tried to turn around and instead she fell off the cot she was laying on and hit the floor. A sharp, but brief pain shot up her arm and shocked her back into full consciousness. She was in her dad¡¯s bunker. They were sealed in. Something happened to the people in the town. They¡¯d gone crazy and attacked them. Her dad shot them. He¡¯d blown Samantha¡¯s head off, but Samantha tried to bite her. ¡°Dad!¡± she cried out, all the fear and helplessness of those events punching through her. Suddenly it was all too much. She began to cry in big, heaping sobs, her breathing labored. The reasons, the whys behind her distress were confusing and insubstantial. She¡¯d been strong, tried to hold it in, but now it was pouring out of her like water bursting from a dam. Lindsay was the first one there, her skinny arms wrapping around her shoulders. Thin, delicate hands dug into her hair. Nails raked gently against her scalp. She said words but they were just sounds to Katie. Soothing sounds. Good sounds. Her dad was there a moment later. He lifted her chin with his rough, thick fingers and shined a light in her eyes. It made Katie blink and shocked her out of her uncontrolled sobs. ¡°Katie, honey, listen to me,¡± her dad said. His blue eyes were so clear, so much like her own. People always said she had his eyes. She managed a nod. ¡°Can you say your name?¡± ¡°Huh? It¡¯s Katie, dad.¡± He smiled at her, his face still unshaven. The image of her father with a growing beard brought the recent events back in full. It chased away the last of the fog in her mind and replaced it with a sudden numbness. The fear was iced over. ¡°Your shoulder, how does it feel?¡± She looked down at her right shoulder and saw that the glass was no longer protruding from it. When she shrugged, it protested, but the pain was bearable. Only then did Lindsay let her go, sitting on her knees and looking concerned. ¡°It¡­ feels okay.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll hurt for a while, but it wasn¡¯t as deep as I thought.¡± Her dad moved in close and pulled back the neckline of Katie¡¯s t-shirt. There was a clean bandage over the wound with only a hint of bleeding seeping through. He peeled the bandage away slightly and then replaced it and her shirt again. He looked surprised. ¡°No infection and it¡¯s damn near healed already.¡± ¡°How long was I asleep?¡± ¡°Twenty-eight hours, about. I kept you sedated for a while.¡± Twenty-eight hours. A lot can happen in twenty-eight hours. Katie rose slowly and sat down on her cot. They were in the living quarters of her dad¡¯s bunker. A plain, white room with six cots arrayed along one side of the room. One cot was placed above another, creating three columns of two cots each. The other side of the room had a desk, a dresser and a bookshelf. There were two doors at the far end of the room. One that led towards the supply room and bathroom and the other connected to the main room and radio room. In the background, Katie made out the faint whisper of the air-cleaner filtering air from the outside before pumping it down into the bunker. ¡°Dad, what¡¯s going on?¡± Her dad licked his lips and turned to look at the doorway to the main room. She waited, drawing Lindsay up to sit next to her and holding her friend¡¯s hand tightly in both of her own. He would tell her in his own time, once he realized she wasn¡¯t going to let him ignore it. After nearly a minute of quiet pacing, her dad stopped and sat on the desk opposite them. He laced his hands together between his knees and looked right at her. Their eyes met and held. Her dad was always calm, composed, unworried, but she saw worry in his eyes now. It was bad then, very bad.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°What I¡¯m getting is sketchy at best. Bill thinks it might be a bio attack by a terrorist group.¡± Bill was her dad¡¯s army buddy, who still worked down at the base about fifty miles south. They talked on the CB a lot, usually when he was in the bunker and needed ¡°intel¡± as he always called it. There wasn¡¯t a summer that her dad didn¡¯t prepare for an extended stay, though Katie figured that might have all been part of their bonding time. She never minded it, and it made him happy. She liked when her dad was happy. Ever since the divorce, that was pretty rare. ¡°So what is the army doing?¡± she said, glancing at Lindsay. Her friend sat with her head down, lips pressed tight together. She gave Lindsay¡¯s hand a squeeze but nothing was returned. Her dad shrugged. ¡°Mobilizing the National Guard as best they can and filling in with Army where needed. Officially, nothing is getting out to the news except that a viral outbreak hit New York City and Philadelphia. FEMA is slow to get its act together until the President declares a state of emergency. Which he hasn¡¯t done yet.¡± ¡°What?¡± Katie found that a little hard to believe. If this was a virus, a bioweapon of some sort, it turned people into maniacs. Samantha tried to¡­ She tried to kill me, Katie realized. Several things struck her at once. Mister Turner¡¯s legs being severed. His endless banging on the rooftop. The way his hand pushed through the window, peeling his skin off. None of that bothered him. And he¡¯d been trying to kill her too. Bite her. ¡°Bite¡­ dad, you said not to let them bite me?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how it passes from host to host. Saliva and blood.¡± He slid off the desk and took a deep breath. ¡°We have eight months of supplies in here for three people. We¡¯ll wait until we get the all clear.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Lindsay said, looking up. ¡°My mom? My mom is still out there.¡± Katie turned from Lindsay to her dad, frowning. Until that moment, she hadn¡¯t thought about Mrs Volk. She hadn¡¯t had a thought for anyone in the town really, or even her mom back in New York. She¡¯s not in the city, so she¡¯s fine. ¡°Dad, you said the cities were hit¡­ we¡¯re nowhere near there and those people...¡± ¡°I said the news were only reporting about it there. It¡¯s spreading, fast.¡± He turned his gaze on Lindsay and exhaled very slowly. ¡°Lindsay, we¡¯ve tried to call your mother three times. There was no answer.¡± ¡°The power might be out at the house!¡± Lindsay said, suddenly standing, ripping her hand free from Katie¡¯s. ¡°That storm was bad! Our power always goes out! And she never charges her cell phone¡­ never¡­ I told her to charge it¡­¡± Katie stood to pull her into her arms when Lindsay began to cry. Over her friend¡¯s shoulder, she gave her dad a look. He set his jaw, shaking his head. ¡°Dad.¡± ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous. There could be dozens of infected people out there.¡± ¡°It¡¯s her mom, dad. Just because I don¡¯t give a shit about my mom doesn¡¯t mean¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± he said, his voice an angry bark. Katie stiffened, but kept Lindsay held tightly. Her friend¡¯s sobbing was slowing, but Katie still felt warm, wet tears against her neck and shoulder. Surprisingly, her own wound barely hurt now, even with Lindsay pressing against it. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you ran here, Katherine, but she is your mother and she loves you¡ª¡± ¡°No she doesn¡¯t!¡± Katie didn¡¯t realize she was shouting until Lindsay cowered away from her. The anger was so intense, so sudden, that it flushed away her exhaustion and grogginess. ¡°You weren¡¯t there, dad. You don¡¯t know.¡± He held up his hands in a calming gesture. ¡°You¡¯re right. I don¡¯t. Unfortunately, however, that doesn¡¯t matter right this moment. What matters is keeping you safe, and Lindsay safe. Nothing can hurt us down here. We can wait this out. This is the kind of thing we planned for, remember?¡± Her anger calmed but when she looked at Lindsay again and saw the pain in her expression, resolve took its place. She moved down to the supply door and unlatched it, then looked inside. Her dad called after her, but she ignored him. Flipping on the light, she walked passed the rows of shelving and their stored goods to a metal cabinet. It had a combination lock that she quickly dialed in and pulled open. ¡°Katherine, stop. This is ridiculous, you¡¯re not even healed.¡± Her dad had followed her and was now standing by the quietly humming freezer. She turned away and reached in, pulling out one of her father¡¯s rifles. It was as familiar to her as a friend. Some of her best memories recently involved firing the weapon on the range behind her dad¡¯s cabin. She eventually trained others how to shoot too, as part of her dad¡¯s survival courses. She¡¯d even taught Samantha once, when her dad was out of town. She¡¯d never told him about that. ¡°Dad,¡± she said, turning to face him after grabbing several empty magazines. ¡°Why did you set up those survival courses?¡± ¡°What? You know very well why.¡± ¡°To protect your family,¡± Katie said and knelt to draw out a box of ammunition. She began to fill the magazines. ¡°To survive right? You knew something like this would happen.¡± She paused with her thumb on a cartridge as it clicked into place. He knew something like this would happen. ¡°Dad, what else do you know about this?¡± She didn¡¯t look at him. Not out of disgust or fear, but because she needed to hear him. She could always hear when her dad lied. Glancing her way, he shrugged. ¡°Only what Bill said.¡± She heard it. A lie. The hurt on her face must have been easy to see as her dad looked away, as if ashamed. Silence hung in the air until she heard him exhale. When he spoke, he sounded exhausted. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, that¡¯s the truth. There was a virus the military tested back in ¡®09, but lost track of it.¡± 2009. That was when her dad was discharged. That¡¯s when it all started, when he started preparing, when he made the bunker. When her family began to fall apart. A hand on her wounded shoulder brought something more to mind. ¡°Could terrorists have gotten a hold of it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe. But when it hit earlier this week, the CDC tried to contain it and failed. The news never had the right information and it spread so fast. Those people you saw out there? The virus makes them mindless. They attack anyone, anything, and feel no pain.¡± She frowned, feeling that fear growing inside of her again. Her mind tried to process what he said but it felt too unreal, too impossible to even consider. ¡°Zombies.¡± They both turned to see Lindsay standing in the doorway. She was shaking, her hands wrapped around herself. When Katie tried to meet her eyes, Lindsay just turned away. ¡°Zombies aren¡¯t real,¡± Katie said and looked to her dad. ¡°Right?¡± Her dad said nothing, but turned to the cabinet and pulled out another rifle similar to her own. ¡°Dad?¡± ¡°Katie, I¡¯m going to need your help if I¡¯m going to find Lindsay¡¯s mom. You were right. I did this to protect my family, but I also did this to help others. I trained you to help others. So let¡¯s go do our job.¡± SIX ¡°You can¡¯t just leave me here!¡± Lindsay clung to the sleeve of Katie¡¯s coat, nearly causing her to drop the gas mask she held. Katie tried to ignore her and adjusted the straps on the mask, but the tugging on her sleeve became more insistent. Finally she gave up and turned to face her friend. Lindsey looked terrified and desperate and instantly Katie¡¯s heart went out to her. ¡°You¡¯d only slow us down. No offense, Lindsey, but I am barely allowing Katie to do this,¡± Katie¡¯s dad said as he zipped up his white parka and shouldered his pack. They were both wearing thermal gear and a thick, waterproof jacket. The jacket and their pants were both white with woodland print. They¡¯d used them for hunting in the snow in the years past. As Katie fingered the mask in her hands, she began to wonder if her dad hadn¡¯t used hunting as a cover for a lot of things. ¡°No I won¡¯t, I promise! I can be fast! Please, Mister Fox, it¡¯s my mom!¡± Katie looked at her dad, her face full of questions. When her gaze met his, his jaw tightened and he shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but Katie¡¯s been trained and you haven¡¯t. It would be even more dangerous if you were with us.¡± ¡°She showed me how to shoot a gun though,¡± Lindsey said, her fingers falling away from Katie¡¯s arm. Katie froze, looking back at Lindsey with a frown. Why did she have to mention that? ¡°What? When?¡± ¡°Two summers ago¡­ you were away on business,¡± Katie said. ¡°I just thought it¡¯d be good for her.¡± ¡°Katherine, her mother¡­¡± her dad began to say but stopped, shaking his head. He pulled his gas mask off the peg of the supply room, picked up his rifle and shouldered passed them. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter now. The answer is no. It¡¯s safer in here for her. This will be hard enough with someone I have trained.¡± Katie turned back Lindsey and put a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. She drew her close and touched her forehead to Lindsey¡¯s. It was an old custom, something they used to do when they were younger, thinking they could share thoughts. She thought very hard now. Be strong. Trust in us. She broke the contact and leaned up, kissing Lindsey on the forehead before grabbing her rifle and turning to go. Behind her, Lindsey began to sob. ¡°Ready?¡± her dad said as they approached the entrance to the bunker. Katie let her AR-15 hang off its tactical sling as she prepared to don her mask. She nodded and then pulled it on, tightening the straps to make a good seal. The wide, wrap-around lens offered good visibility, but the first few breaths she drew tasted of charcoal and chemicals. There was a slight effort involved in drawing air through the filter and it took a moment until the shortness of breath subsided. Meanwhile her dad already had his mask on and was applying power to the door again. Together they drew it open and stepped out into the stairwell. Katie quietly moved up the stairs until she was at the hatch and waited until her dad had closed and locked the main door again. Once the code was armed again, Katie unbolted the hatch and slowly raised it a few inches. They¡¯d already checked the external cameras for any¡­ zombies¡ªthough Katie was still unwilling to accept such a thing was real¡ªand found the area clear. Still, it was dark outside and her dad didn¡¯t want to use the hydraulic opener just in case. It was good for a quick entrance, but could provide too much sudden movement if anyone was nearby. She waited for nearly a minute, searching and listening for any sign of movement before opening the hatch further and stepping out into the snow. She drew her weapon to her shoulder and went to one knee, covering her dad as he exited. The butt of the rifle against her shoulder sent a dull pain through her system, but it wasn¡¯t as bad as she thought it should be. Obviously, her dad was right. The glass hadn¡¯t hurt her as much as she thought it had. A quick tap on her left shoulder and her dad was moving quickly towards the cabin. Katie rose and followed, keeping her head on a swivel as they moved through the dark woods. Thankfully, the moon was nearly full and provided enough light to see by. The ice storm was gone but the sky overhead was overcast. Katie guessed that snow was on its way. It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. During the summer months, she and her dad could get from the cabin to the bunker in five minutes, if not less, even with all their gear. Now, however, they were careful to check their approach and scan for anything moving in the woods. Katie found that her fear was held in check. She had a job to do, a clear goal and it drove all other thoughts away. They climbed the few short steps to the cabin¡¯s back door and each took a side. Her dad made a hand signal for her to check the far corner and that he would do the same with one behind him. They split up and circled the cabin, but found no one when they met at the front door. Katie saw that no fresh tracks were made in the snow, either. No one else had been here. ¡°Do we take the truck?¡± she said, leaning close so he could hear her through the mask. Her dad looked over his shoulder towards where the vehicle was parked. The ice had made a sculpture out of it. He grunted and shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll have to take the snowmobile,¡± he said, nodding towards the north side of the cabin, where the aging Polaris sat covered up. Katie loved that old machine and missed the days when they were still a family, and she was here during the cold and bitter winter months. Her dad would drive her up into the mountains with it and they¡¯d camp under the stars. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The snowmobile only took two tries to start up after her dad got the keys from the cabin. Soon they were driving northwest through the woods, an eerie red-yellow glow on the horizon. She held tighter to her dad as he drove. They stopped where the tree line thinned out before dropping down a gradual incline to the town below. Through her mask, Katie couldn¡¯t smell the fires, but the smoke wafted up through the trees, rising like an ash-colored cloud. Emerging from the woods, they knelt at the edge of the incline. ¡°Oh my God,¡± she whispered, the sound echoing within her mask. Mount Hope was a small town, where two streets met and was nestled into the shadow of the Appalachian mountains. Katie grew up thinking that one day, if she was lucky, she might get out of this town. She might go to the west coast, or overseas somewhere. Now, as she looked down at what was left, all she wanted was that life back. The town burned. Nearly every house and building was on fire, or flattened. In the center of the town, where Main Street intersected Central Avenue to form the single streetlight, only a crater remained. Blackened scorch marks reached out from the crater like skeletal fingers and debris lay everywhere. Katie couldn¡¯t speak, her words were caught in her throat. Her mouth was dry and her eyes burned from staring so long without blinking. ¡°Damn. So that¡¯s what the vibrations were,¡± her dad said, just loudly enough for her to hear. His voice brought her attention back to the here and now and she turned to him. Through the plastic of his mask, she saw the grim set of his jaw, the squint of his eyes. ¡°What?¡± she said, moving closer so he could hear her. ¡°While you were recovering, there were tremors, like an earthquake. I thought maybe¡­ goddamnit, Bill.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Missile of some kind, Tomahawk maybe. Attempt at a quarantine. Isolated area, stop all traffic, close all media outlets¡­¡± ¡°Dad,¡± she said, his words reminding her of things he¡¯d told her long ago. ¡°They¡¯d evacuate anyone not infected.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± he said and motioned down the hill. ¡°One way to find out. Hand signals from here on.¡± Without another word, he made his way down the hill. Katie followed, knowing better than to question him at a time like this. He was in the lead, and she did not disobey orders unless circumstantial knowledge demanded it. She¡¯d been taught how to follow him, how to shoot, how to execute a battle plan and how to survive. It was those lessons that she held tight to now. The world was burning around her, and her dad and his training was all she knew. They moved across the open ground between the slope and the town at a quick trot, keeping low and their weapons ready. Several times she nearly put her finger on the trigger, but years of scolding and instruction overrode her anxiety. She kept it against the guard, ready, but at least she wouldn¡¯t fire off a shot by accident. The old Romero¡¯s building was all but rubble, the walls so low they had to crouch to take cover. Her dad moved quickly, heading towards the far corner that would take them toward Main Street. Katie followed, keeping her eyes trained on their left and sweeping around behind. She wasn¡¯t sure what to expect, but she certainly didn¡¯t want to run into anymore¡­ zombies. They¡¯re not real, she told herself as they reached the far corner, her dad leaning around to the front of the building. He tapped her on the shoulder and signaled to cover him. She readied herself and when he went around the corner, she took his place and went to one knee. Training her field of view to start at her dad¡¯s right and sweep nearly 180 degrees behind her, she kept her eyes open and her thoughts to a minimum. Her dad paused at the door to Romero¡¯s market and aimed his weapon at it. Her breath caught, heart hammering in her chest. Were there more of those things in there? She kept her weapon trained in his direction, ready if he needed help. For a long, tense moment, nothing happened. Then her dad lowered his weapon and moved into the doorway and waved her over. Once she reached him, he leaned close and said that any quarantine would be in the school. It had a bomb shelter. It was the only place where things could be contained and sealed. She nodded and they turned their gaze northward. There, in the center of the road, was the first body. Blackened, charred and hardly recognizable, it lay in the middle of Main Street. The body was so badly burned that Katie couldn¡¯t tell if it was a man or a woman. Her stomach nearly heaved what little she¡¯d eaten before they¡¯d suited up. They gave the corpse a wide berth. They moved, quietly and quickly, from destroyed building to destroyed building. Katie saw nothing to indicate life, only more bodies. They lay in the street, or in houses and buildings. She made herself look at any that were half-recognizable. None were Lindsey¡¯s mom. The school was flattened, but they found the entrance to the shelter. It was a metal door that was slanted away from base of the building into the dirt. They managed to pull it open after several attempts. It was nearly welded shut. Inside was all that remained of Mount Hope. Clothes and paper and mementos lay everywhere, discarded in a panic. There were bodies here too, but they weren¡¯t burned. They weren¡¯t moving around either. Laying in cots, where they¡¯d been shot in the head, were men, women and children who all showed signs of infection. She knew them, every single one. Miss Taylor lay with her eyes closed, her dirty-blond hair nearly covering the red, seeping wound in her forehead. She¡¯d taught her geography in seventh grade. There was a Josh Niven, a boy her own age who lay curled up into a fetal position, hugging a pillow. His brown hair was curly and mussed and Katie sank to her knees. He once told her that she was pretty. He was in a special class for kids who couldn¡¯t read well. He had some kind of autism, but she never knew much more than that. He always smiled at her during Study Hall, where he¡¯d sit and color something with markers. She could still smell them. Red was his favorite. She¡¯d given him a whole pack for Christmas once, before she¡¯d left for New York. Now a pool of red blood collected on the cot and seeped slowly through to drip onto the floor. ¡°Katie,¡± her dad said from behind her. She tore her gaze away from Josh, fighting the brimming tears that threatened to fall, and turned away. Her dad held a piece of paper in one hand and tapped at a number written on it with his thumb. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°A Shelter number. It¡¯s a three-digit code, an even number for east coast, a four usually means New England¡­ the rest I¡¯m not sure of.¡± ¡°Do you think they got out?¡± Her dad didn¡¯t say but folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. A quick search yielded no other hints of survivors, but Katie didn¡¯t find the body of Lindsey¡¯s mom either. After a while, her tears stopped and she just felt numb. She could barely think of anything but doing whatever task was ahead of her. Finally, they climbed the stairs from the bomb shelter and into the night air. It had gotten colder and a light snow was falling. It coated everything, from the burned bodies to the destroyed buildings, hiding them in a blanket of white like a burial shroud. They¡¯d walked a dozen feet back towards the incline when her father threw out a hand and stopped her. Instantly his weapon was up and she followed suit, her eyes peering into the darkness ahead. At first, she saw nothing, but then she heard it. The moans of the dead. SEVEN At first, there was only the flicker of burning fires and wafting smoke turning the cracked street into an image of hell. Then, the sound of the dead came on a wind that felt too warm for the early December air. It came from dozens of throats, beginning as scattered moans and hisses before slowly melding into a cacophony of horror. They came slowly, lurching through the smoke and into the dancing firelight. Katie knew without seeing their wounds that they were infected. It was something instinctive, a survival mechanism buried deep inside that told her these were predators and she was prey. Those feelings were quickly confirmed as they emerged onto the street. Some wore the body armor of the National Guard, guns still hanging from dead hands, while others were people she knew. Mrs. Athens had been her biology teacher in tenth grade. Now she stumbled into view with her jaw missing, a black tongue swinging in the cool air. Her dad made a signal with his hand towards her right, telling her to fall back into cover. Katie kept low and hurried to a position further along the ruins of the school to her right. She ducked into deepest darkness she could find and took cover behind a two foot wall of rubble, covering her dad while he hurried to her. The group of infected was large, two dozen at least. The part of her brain that was still focused on her task made a quick scan for Lindsay¡¯s mom, but didn¡¯t see her. The other part, the one that was just seventeen and scared out of her mind, found herself shaking at the sight of them. Focus, Katie. You can do this. Together, Katie and her dad moved towards the rear of the building and then crossed the street, trying to keep as much distance and real estate between them and the infected as possible. Her dad spoke to her with hand signals, getting her attention with a tap on the arm or a quick wave of his hand. This was one thing they¡¯d practiced every summer, but until now Katie always thought it was annoying. Why signal when they could just talk? Now she knew. He¡¯d been training her. She took the lead at the next corner and at her dad¡¯s direction, turned left to head back toward the street. Her eyes were focused on the far corner and she hurried towards it at a crouch, her gun held at the ready. It was that focus that made her miss the open doorway. The infected was a ten year old boy. A sharp, hungry hiss made her turn just as he jumped at her. Katie fell back, her feet falling out from under her, her rifle turning with her. Her finger slipped through the trigger guard and squeezed. Once. Twice. Both rounds struck the boy in the chest as she hit the ground on her back. The chambered 5.56 rounds punched through his small chest, staggering him. That saved her life. The boy let out a screech that made Katie¡¯s insides go cold. She froze up, eyes wide with fear as he reached for her with hands blackened and burned. The fingertips were white where the bone showed through and his teeth were yellow and caked with viscera. She couldn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t do anything. In an instant she thought of all the stupid things she¡¯d done in her life. Why did she have to make this one little mistake now when it really mattered? A burst of blood and brain sprouted from the side of the boy¡¯s head. A second shot exploded his right eye and carried the bridge of his nose and left cheekbone with it. Katie was unable to stop the shriek of fright escaping her lips as the boy fell onto her legs. She kicked frantically until her dad was able to drag her away. With her dad¡¯s strong hands lifting her up, she stood while he checked her over for wounds. Only a few seconds had passed but it felt like hours until she¡¯d composed herself. ¡°Are you okay?¡± her dad said, leaning close enough for their masks to touch. His breath fogged a the bottom of his faceplate and hid his eyes from her. Katie wished hers would do the same. She felt like the world¡¯s biggest idiot. And the most incompetent daughter ever. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Now¡¯s not the time,¡± he said and pointed back at the street. She turned and, despite the darkness, she saw that the infected were moving their way now. She could hear their moans and screeches. They sounded like a pack of wild animals. ¡°They¡¯re on the hunt now,¡± he said. ¡°Are you good to run?¡± She nodded. There was no choice, even if her legs felt like jelly and her nerves felt like live power cables. Her rifle still hung by the tactical sling and she took it up again, the heavy weight reassuring in her hands. It was a good, solid tool that made her useful. It made her feel secure, even if just a little bit. Sometimes, that¡¯s all she needed. They moved to the edge of the building, keeping as close to the shadows as they could. It didn¡¯t matter. The infected had heard the shots, heard her scream. They lurched forward like a wave of broken marionettes, picking up speed as they crossed the distance toward them. ¡°The snowmobile, now! Run!¡± her dad shouted and Katie ran. She pounded across the street, slipped once on some loose snow but turned the fall into a clumsy shoulder-roll. Her dad reached down a hand as he rushed past and pulled her up. Together they crossed the street, but the fastest of the infected were only twenty feet behind them. Her dad turned and fired off a few shots. One dropped, another had its legs cut out from under him. ¡°Go! I¡¯ll cover you!¡± ¡°Dad!¡± ¡°Take this,¡± he said and shoved the paper they¡¯d found in the shelter, the one with the possible evacuation location on it, into Katie¡¯s hand. Then he shoved her away towards the hill and woods. ¡°Go!¡± ¡°Not without you!¡± Her dad fired again, backing up towards the hill as he did so. Another infected dropped, but it wasn¡¯t dead. It began to crawl towards them, pulling itself along with just its hands. Katie brought her rifle up and looked down the holographic sights. She remembered to keep both eyes open and centered first on the crawling man, but her peripheral saw another closing faster. Turning her aim the closer threat, a middle-aged man she didn¡¯t recognize, she squeezed the trigger and saw a small black hole appear in his throat. He didn¡¯t fall. Shit. Shit! She aimed a little higher, hands shaking, and this time took him in the forehead. The corpse fell forward without any further movement. It didn¡¯t jerk or spasm when it fell. It just simply went still. More of them were coming around the corner of a nearby building. Katie and her dad had backed halfway to the hill but there was no way they were going to make it in time. Her dad pointed up the hill towards the woods. ¡°Go, now!¡± he said and began to sprint to the left, firing his rifle at the infected and shouting as he did so. The infected began to turn to give chase, drawn to the sound of his rifle¡¯s report and his voice. She stood there for a heartbeat, caught between the horror of watching her dad being chased and the command he¡¯d given her. She couldn¡¯t leave him here, she couldn¡¯t! She knew it was a stupid thing to do, but she couldn¡¯t be responsible for this, could not leave her dad here with those¡­ things. Bringing the rifle up to her shoulder, she aimed and fired. One, two, three. Two of the infected fell. The whole world seemed to go still for her. In those moments, all she had was a target. A finger pull. Crack. The metallic clang of the next round being chambered. The infected fell. Next target. Pull. Crack. Before she knew it, the chamber resonated a hollow, empty ping, signaling that her magazine was empty. The magazines held roughly 30 rounds, had she really unloaded that many? She didn¡¯t have time to find out. Half of the infected peeled away and began to chase after her. Some of them tripped over the bodies of other fallen infected, but quickly scrambled up again. She lost track of where her dad was and turned to run towards the tree line. They were right behind her, the sound of their feet slipping and crunching the snow just behind her as she crested the hill and found the tree line. She leaped over the small hedge of bushes and zig-zagged her way through the trees, hoping to confuse or trip some of them up. As she ran, she fumbled for a second magazine but couldn¡¯t get it out of her chest pocket. Shit, shit, shit! All that training and she couldn¡¯t even reload her weapon when she needed it! A cold, dead hand grabbed her sleeve but she twisted away and turned hard again, her boots keeping her sure-footed on the snow-covered ground. A woman in a tattered parka and business skirt reached for her from around a tree. Katie brought up her rifle and slammed the butt of it into her forehead. It didn¡¯t kill the infected, but it knocked her back enough for Katie to slip through. Almost there¡­ She spied the group of trees where the snowmobile was parked. Ten more long-legged strides took her straight to it. Only to find that the snowmobile was gone. EIGHT The dead were coming for her. Katie stood where the snowmobile should have been, but in its place was only rutted snow and torn up shards of ice and grass. Where was it? Who might have taken it and how? She stood there, rooted to the spot. The impossibility of it, the unfairness of it, made her hesitate. That hesitation nearly cost Katie her life. Something cold grabbed her from behind. Stiff fingers clutched at her jacket, dragging her backwards while another clutched at her arm. A hiss slid across her ear, the infected¡¯s breath a fetid wind of blood and decay. It leaned towards her, teeth snapping for her flesh. If she didn¡¯t move, if she didn¡¯t fight, she¡¯d die. Right here in the dark and the cold. Fight, Katie! Fight! She could almost hear her father say the words, just like he¡¯d said them so many years ago. Screaming, it was like something broke within her. Her fear melted, replaced by a sudden need to live. Her blood burned hot, her muscles flooded with adrenaline. Twisting her body, the infected¡¯s teeth clamped down on her mask instead of her skin. The jaw snapped shut so hard that its teeth broke on the plastic. Her mask¡¯s filter cracked and a spray of dark blood hit the faceplate. She brought her arm up and slammed her elbow into the thing¡¯s neck. It staggered just enough for her to draw a knee up between them and kick outward, driving the heel of her boot into the infected¡¯s knee. Something snapped and the thing ¡ª it was a thing, not a person anymore, she told herself ¡ª fell forward. Twisting out of the way, she grabbed one of her spare magazines with one hand and pushed the slider to release her spent one with the other. Clicking the new magazine into place, she charged the bolt and fired into the back of the thing¡¯s head just as it started to rise again. More slipped through the trees, staggering in on all sides, boxing her in. The only open path was straight behind her and she turned to run, bringing the rifle to bear as she did so. Infected moaned and hissed, reaching out with hands and teeth. With a few trigger pulls, she brought down the closest in front of her. She¡¯d just burst through the group when one caught her ponytail. Nearly losing her footing, Katie reached out a hand and grabbed hold of a low hanging branch to keep her balance and struggled to free herself. The dead hands were strong, pulling her head back painfully. She felt her hair giving way, ripping out at the roots. The mask dislodged, twisting to the side and obscuring her vision. She knew she only had seconds before the thing was close enough to bite her. Letting go of her rifle and letting it hang by the sling, she pulled off her mask and drew the knife sheathed against her left shoulder. Her dad taught her how to sheath it there and how to draw it. Those lessons were fun and Katie had felt powerful then, just like when she shot the rifles and pistols. Now, terrified and nearly blinded with pain, she let muscle memory do its thankless work. The knife came free and she could turn just enough to stab backward. Too low, the knife bit into the infected¡¯s shoulder, catching on bone and and nearly causing her to lose her grip on it. She turned again, harder. Her hair tore out and fire trailed up her scalp, followed by the warm wetness of blood. The infected¡¯s face was inches from her own, mouth open wide and yellow teeth closing in. She was too close to bring the knife up and threw up her left arm in front of the thing¡¯s snapping maw. The infected¡¯s mouth closed around her forearm as she freed her right hand enough to thrust the knife upward. The blade sank deep beneath its jaw, passing through the jaw and up into the brain. The infected immediately went slack and fell, dragging Katie with it. Though the body had gone limp, the hand and jaw was still clamped on her hair and forearm.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The other infected were nearly on top of her as she fought to free herself. Withdrawing her knife from the infected¡¯s head, she sawed and hacked until the ponytail was severed, then jabbed the knife into its jaw and pried it open. Teeth snapped, bones cracked, and her jacket tore but she managed to pull free just as another infected reached down for her. A loud whir resounded through the woods a split second before something heavy and metal crashed into the infected around her. The snowmobile struck the dead man reaching for her in the side and sent it crashing into a nearby tree. Then it too struck a tree and slid sideways, her dad¡¯s figure rolling away from it. ¡°Dad?¡± she said, dumbfounded. ¡°Run!¡± he shouted as he stood and began firing at the infected turning towards him. Several dropped under the sudden explosion of gunfire. The muzzle flashes were so bright that Katie saw spots. ¡°Katie, run!¡± Shaking herself from her momentary stupor, Katie got to her feet and raised her rifle again, once more thankful for the tactical sling it was still attached to. The cold air was brisk and biting against her now-bare face, but it woke her fully as well. She sighted and dropped two infected that approached her dad from the side. ¡°Dad, come on!¡± ¡°Be right behind you! Run for the bunker!¡± She fired again, dropping another infected before turning around and running. If one thing Katie was good at, it was knowing her direction. It was something she¡¯d learned as a kid from playing a heck of a lot of hunting and tracking games with her dad in the woods. Back then, she dreamed of being a Ranger like him, but time dimmed a lot of things and her teenage years inflamed new passions. Katie ran as fast as she could through the dense underbrush and clawing fir tree limbs. She could hear the hisses and moans of the infected behind her but she no longer heard the bark of gunfire. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw no sign of her dad either. He¡¯s fine, she told herself. Run. Follow orders. After running for nearly five minutes, the ache in her legs and lungs finally made her slow her pace. She paused for a brief moment and held her breath, listening for any sound. The infected made a hell of a racket as they crashed through the woods and their moaning carried far on the wind. They were still close, but she¡¯d managed to put some distance between them. She used that time to settle her nerves, catch her breath and listen for anything that might mean her dad was still alive. To this end, she heard nothing. She turned her gaze on her left forearm, where the infected had bit her. Swallowing a sudden lump of fear, she pulled back her jacket¡¯s sleeve. Underneath, a bracer of heavy wrapped leather showed dents and small tearing but had held. She sighed with relief. The armor had been her idea and they¡¯d torn apart a leather quiver to make them. If she found the time, she¡¯d see about making some for her neck and shoulders. But now it was time to move. Keep going. That¡¯s what he¡¯d want. Starting off again, she kept her pace brisk but not an all-out run. Every few hundred yards she¡¯d stop and listen for sounds of infected. She thanked every god in the universe for the light of the moon to see by, even if the snow clouded out the stars. Otherwise, she¡¯d never find the bunker in the dark. Its general location was no problem, but actually spotting the entrance? It was very well hidden. A shot rang out north of her. Then another and another. The growling and hissing of the infected became a low rumble in the distance. It was moving north and away from her. Dad, no, she thought, tightening her grip on her rifle. Another shot. Another. They were coming in more rapid succession now and Katie surmised he was either leading them or was cornered. Either way, she yearned to run towards the sound. She wanted to help, to save him. You did this to protect your family, she thought, remembering her own words in the bunker. He¡¯d done all this to protect her and running off to get herself killed would only destroy what he¡¯d done. She couldn¡¯t do that to him either. ¡°I love you, dad,¡± she whispered into the night air and turned to run for the bunker again, feeling tears freeze on her lashes. It took nearly an hour of running and resting to get back to the location of the bunker. She almost ran right past it until she spotted the solar panels glinting in the moonlight. Then, with a little bit of searching, found the door again and opened it. She dropped into the stairwell and kept her rifle trained back the way she¡¯d come for several long minutes. He¡¯d come. He would. She¡¯d just wait until he did and cover him. The shots had long since died out and the last location was far north of her. As the minutes dragged on, she knew, deep in her heart, that her dad was not coming back. Not tonight. Maybe, never again. NINE ¡°You can¡¯t go back out there!¡± Lindsay grabbed Katie¡¯s arm as she pulled out a box of ammunition from the supply closet. Shaking it off, Katie pried the metal box open and knelt to begin reloading her empty magazines. Have to go. Have to go. Taking too long. Hurry, Katie! She fumbled with a round and instead of snapping it into place, it slipped out of her hand and skittered across the floor to roll beneath the dresser. Her vision swam as she reached for it, exhaustion filling her. ¡°Get me a 5 Hour Energy,¡± she said, reaching her hand beneath the dresser to feel for the round. She could have just gotten another one from the box but wasting ammunition felt wrong. She had to get this one. It was very important to her for some reason. Lindsay knelt beside her. ¡°Katie, please! Stop it. You¡¯re barely staying awake.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, just get me a 5 Hour.¡± ¡°No¡­ no, I w-won¡¯t!¡± Irritation flared to sudden anger as the round slipped away from her fingers and rolled against the wall. Withdrawing her arm, she flailed, slapping away Lindsay¡¯s hand. Dizziness overcame her and she stumbled, then fell over. For a moment, there was only vast darkness. Was she dead? Had she been bitten after all? But no, no there was Lindsay again, her hands on her, drawing her up. Warm arms went around her and held her tight. She was just so tired. ¡°Just¡­ get me¡­¡± ¡°Shh,¡± Lindsay whispered into her ear. ¡°My dad! He¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s out there¡­¡± ¡°He¡¯ll come. And if he doesn¡¯t then you¡¯ll just die out there too.¡± Katie wanted to push her away, to stand up and grab her rifle, but she was weak and exhausted. Just opening her eyes was a chore. ¡°I¡­ I have to¡­ to go¡­¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t. Your dad wanted you safe. He¡¯ll make it back if he can, but he wouldn¡¯t want you go out there like this and die¡­ I don¡¯t want you go out there and¡­ and¡­¡± Katie realized that Lindsay was crying. They both were and she turned just enough to hug her friend in return. What if her dad didn¡¯t come back? What if he was hurt out there and she couldn¡¯t get to him? She¡¯d be letting him down. She¡¯d be letting him die. I¡¯d be alone, she thought. # Her dreams were filled with images of suffocation. She was curled inside of a box buried deep in the earth, the weight of a mountain crushing her to death. She struggled for breath, struggled to stretch out, struggled to live. In the end she woke with a start, a gentle weight around her middle. She panicked until she realized it was just Lindsay¡¯s arm curled around her waist. She was laying on her cot, Lindsay snuggled against her back and clutching tightly to her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Katie struggled to banish the last thoughts of crushing confinement from her mind. Why had she dreamed of boxes? Of buried boxes of all things? She had no fear of confined spaces normally. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Dad! She sat up so quickly that she nearly hit her head on the bunk above her. Lindsay started awake with a groan. Swinging her legs out of the cot, Katie quickly found her boots and slipped them on. ¡°What time is it?¡± Lindsay said, still groggy. Katie didn¡¯t answer, but instead looked around the room for her dad before moving into the other compartments. ¡°Dad!¡± she shouted over and over, but when only deafening silence answered her, she returned to the bedroom. Putting on her coat, she found her rifle and began to reload its magazines. This time, her hands were steady, even though a cold fear threatened to shake her to her core. ¡°Katie?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going out looking for him. It¡¯s after five in the morning and he didn¡¯t come back. I have to look for him.¡± ¡°He could be anywhere,¡± Lindsay said, kneeling behind her and putting a hand on Katie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Where would you even look?¡± There was silence for a short time as Katie finished loading two more magazines and shoving them into her vest pouches. The question was a good one and Katie didn¡¯t have a good answer in return. Her father went north, further up into the mountains. Where would he go? There wasn¡¯t anything up there¡ª Boxes. Crushing, buried boxes. Katie jumped to her feet and ran into the supply room. She ripped open the drawer containing the maps and rifled through them, fingers fumbling with giddy anticipation until she found the one she was looking for. It was an old map, black and white with lined topography. ¡°Katie? Katie, what the hell are you doing?¡± ¡°Caches,¡± Katie said, turning to grin at Lindsay. ¡°My dad buried caches all over this mountain as a training exercise. He¡¯d store food and ammo and all kinds of things in them. He always said it was something everyone should do, just in case they couldn¡¯t get back to their bunker in time.¡± ¡°Like last night,¡± Lindsay said. ¡°Right.¡± Katie spread the map open on top of the shelving unit and found the location of the bunker. It was outlined as a triangle in red marker. Then, tracing her finger north and west towards the town, she measured out about three miles, then started looking north. Her finger ran straight into one of her dad¡¯s buried caches. She found herself smiling. ¡°I¡¯m coming with you,¡± Lindsay said, her voice quiet but firm behind her. ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡± Katie grabbed the map and brushed passed her. Moving into the living room, she checked the monitors to make sure the area around the entrance was clear. So far, so good. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Lindsay said, catching up and putting herself between Katie and the door. ¡°If you¡¯re going to go out there and get yourself killed then I¡¯m coming with you. I can help.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°I can shoot. You showed me, remember?¡± ¡°Once!¡± Katie said, feeling her irritation and anger rise again. This wasn¡¯t a time for arguments! This was her dad¡¯s life! ¡°Please, Katie, I don¡¯t want to be useless anymore.¡± Lindsay¡¯s voice broke as she said it. There was something there, something more than words being conveyed. A memory flashed of two years ago, when Lindsay said the same thing. Her father had thrown Lindsay¡¯s report card at her and told her that she better shape up, like her brother. He was going to Johns Hopkins for Pre-Med. He wasn¡¯t a failure. He wasn¡¯t useless. Katie had been there. How could she forget that? ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± Katie said, her tone softening. Digging into her pocket, she drew out the paper her dad recovered from the shelter beneath the school and handed it to Lindsay. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°The number of a shelter somewhere in New England. I don¡¯t know where. Dad and I found this in town. Your mom¡­ she might have gotten out. If she did, that¡¯s where she¡¯d be.¡± Lindsay looked at the number written on it for a long moment and licked her lips. ¡°Use the radio in the other room. Ask anyone you can reach about it, but do not tell them where to find you. Okay?¡± ¡°Like I¡¯d know how to direct them here,¡± Lindsay said, but her eyes remained desperate. ¡°N-no, I¡¯m coming with you. Then, afterward, we¡¯ll all check the radio.¡± ¡°Lin,¡± Katie said, her voice very quiet. She looked into her friend¡¯s eyes and held them. ¡°I need to do this. I need you to be here, to be safe. If something happened to you I¡¯d¡­¡± In that moment, she realized how much she meant that. I¡¯d never forgive myself. ¡°But¡­¡± ¡°Please. Lin, I can¡¯t lose you too. Okay?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Lindsay began, but then her gaze dropped away and she nodded. ¡°Okay. Okay.¡± Katie reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her friend desperately close. She didn¡¯t want this to be a goodbye. It wouldn¡¯t be. She¡¯d find her dad and they¡¯d get back here. No problem. ¡°Be safe,¡± Lindsay replied. ¡°Now go before I change my mind.¡± TEN Katie was four hours north of the bunker when she spotted the tracks. They curved deep fissures through the snow and hadn¡¯t filled in yet. Fresh tracks then. The sun was reaching its zenith but the temperature was still cold enough to burn her lungs. She waited for several minutes, listening intently for any sound that might indicate who made the tracks. The urge to move was strong. By her estimation, her dad¡¯s cache should be roughly five hours north of the bunker by foot. She was so close and she had to know if he was alive. Licking her chapped lips, she dug out a protein bar and ate it quickly before pressing on. Her energy was flagging and slogging through freshly fallen snow was not easy work. Her direction took her perpendicular to the tracks and when she crossed them, she paused to look at the impressions. They were big and heavy, judging by the displacement and depth. Large tires with thick tread. She didn¡¯t recognize the pattern but they were widely spaced, so a truck of some sort. Was her dad picked up by someone? Did he find other survivors? If he did, why didn¡¯t he contact her by now? There was no sense stopping here in any case, so she hurried on, pulling out her map to double check the location of the cache. Then, with a quick look at her compass, she reoriented herself and headed over the hill and into a thick batch of brier. ¡°Great, just gr¡ª¡± The mountains were suddenly very quiet, the sudden silence louder than any gunshot. While the sounds of Mount Hope were often too far away to hear, the forest had its own sounds. Birds, the rustle of fir branches, squirrels romping in the snow. This stillness cut through her far worse than the cold and she flicked the safety off her rifle. It appeared through the brush just ahead of her. Once, it had been an old man. She knew him, even if most of his face was torn away from the eye to the jaw, exposing white bone and shredded muscle. Jacob Eisner was¡­ had been¡­ a miserable old man. He hated anything that wasn¡¯t originally from the town and constantly complained about all the foreigners moving in. He¡¯d disliked her father teaching her things that he felt women didn¡¯t need to know. She¡¯d hated the man. Yet, in that moment, as he came crawling through the snow on hands blackened and burned, Katie found no hate for him. Everything was missing below the waist and gray and rotted guts trailed behind him like the tentacles of some horrid sea creature. She expected to be frozen by fear but found herself feeling only pity. Yes, Jacob Eisner had been a miserable human being, but no one deserved this. She raised her rifle and aimed for the middle of his forehead. He opened his mouth, a dried, cracked tongue sliding from between yellow teeth, and croaked. Hands reached out but he sank into the snow and floundered, stuck in place. Katie slid her finger from alongside the trigger guard and curled it around the trigger itself. Rest in peace, Jacob Eisner. I¡¯m sorry. The sound of an engine stilled her hand. Then came voices from down the hillside, back the way Jacob Eisner had come from. They were male, a few hundred yards away, and none of them was her father. They were yelling, angry. Then another set of male voices. These were desperate. Pleading. She flicked her gaze upward, away from Jacob Eisner but saw no one, then looked down at him again. A gunshot would be too loud. Instead she safetied her weapon and let it hang by the tactical strap. She drew the knife at her shoulder and moved toward the struggling corpse. He was still stuck in the snow, hands reaching up. He rocked from side to side, the movement causing him to sink deeper into the snow. She swallowed against the bile that threatened to rise in her throat and blinked at the tears that clouded her eyes. Kneeling, she grabbed hold of the old man¡¯s hair and shoved the knife through his eye. It was harder to do than she imagined. The eye gave way easily but the sensation made her want to throw up. Then the knife scraped on bone and hit something spongy. She pushed, grunting against the revulsion and nausea. The knife sank all the way to its hilt and Jacob Eisner shuddered, then went still. Katie gagged, holding her arm to her mouth and shutting her eyes, willing herself not to be sick. She¡¯d just stabbed a man through the eye and into his brain. It was so much worse than simply shooting him. So much more personal. She left the corpse in the snow where it fell and moved slowly, quietly, towards the sound of voices. Every crunch of snow and scrape of thorns against her pants sounded as loud as an explosion to her ears. The voices never seemed to notice and she crept close enough through the brier patches to see faces. She found them beside a pond that was beginning to freeze over. The vehicle turned out to be a military humvee and explained the tracks she¡¯d seen, but the men who stood around it did not look military. There were three of them and Katie didn¡¯t recognize a single one. The first one she spotted was a small, skinny man wearing a thick, wool cap, dark gray parka and held a military assault rifle in his hands. By the way he held it, one hand tight around the grip and the other wrapped around the barrel, she surmised he was an amateur at best. He stood behind the truck, watching what the other two men were doing. They were both much bigger, husky with more fat than muscle and wore woodland camouflage jackets. They both carried military rifles as well. One had a thick brown beard and black ball cap turned backwards while the other had some light stubble and wore his long blond hair in a ponytail. Bearded Guy was dragging someone from the back of the truck. Katie¡¯s breath caught, fearing that it was her dad. It wasn¡¯t. The one they dragged out of the truck was young, maybe her own age and frightfully skinny. His hands were bound behind him and he had silver duct tape across his mouth. They roughly shoved him to the ground and Katie heard a rifle¡¯s bolt charge.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Oh my God, she thought and fumbled to bring her rifle to bear. Bearded Guy pointed at something hidden by the truck and motioned towards the young man. ¡°He ran all right, but not fast enough. So let¡¯s do this again, boyo. Where. Is. The fucking. Goods?¡± Another voice answered, coming from someone who was hidden by the truck. ¡°It¡¯s not here! Do you think we¡¯d keep something like that here?¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Bearded Guy scoffed and waved a hand. He drew a pistol and pointed it at the young man they¡¯d pulled from the truck. ¡°Jesus Christ, man. Just tell us where it is. I ain¡¯t got all day and neither does he.¡± He made a motion to indicate the young man. ¡°Every time you don¡¯t say something I like, I¡¯m going to shoot off a fucking finger. Got me, bud?¡± Bearded Guy reached down and grabbed the young man¡¯s hand, forcing his wrist to bend and placing the barrel of his pistol against a finger. The young man started to groan and struggle, but Ponytail put a boot on his back and kept him still. Katie¡¯s heart beat hard inside her chest. She had to do something. ¡°Where¡¯s the shit, Allan? Your kid¡¯s never gonna jerk off again if you don¡¯t say something useful.¡± There was a very pregnant pause and Katie raised her rifle and pointed her sights on Bearded Guy. Bile rose in her throat. Could she shoot this man? She didn¡¯t know the situation. Didn¡¯t know who had done what to who. Maybe this¡­ Allan guy had murdered half a dozen people? Killed Bearded Guy¡¯s family? ¡°I¡¯m going to count to three. One. Two¡ª¡± Suddenly the skinny one in the knit cap began to cough violently. Katie saw dark flecks splatter across the snow as he bent nearly double. Bearded Guy looked over at him and cursed. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be okay, buddy, okay? Allan¡¯s going to tell us where the shit is. You¡¯re going to be fine.¡± There was a concern there that made Katie hesitate. She wasn¡¯t expecting that. This looked too much like a scene from every apocalypse movie she¡¯d ever watched. Bandits out on the road, robbing people. Look with your eyes, not your brain, her dad constantly said. The brain is for analysis. See first. Take data. Bearded Guy cocked the hammer of his pistol and turned his gaze back on the man Katie couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Tell me where it is, you piece of shit, or I swear to God I¡¯ll blow his fucking hand off!¡± Another brief silence. ¡°Tell me!¡± ¡°I¡­ ah¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± Allan¡¯s voice trembled. Katie shouldered her weapon and took aim. Maybe she could hit his arm, throw his aim off. Then you¡¯ll be a target. Take center mass or stay out of it. Her aim wavered, then steadied on Bearded Guy¡¯s chest. ¡°Now!¡± ¡°Dad! Don¡¯t tell him!¡± the young man said, only to get kicked in the stomach by Ponytail. He coughed and groaned. ¡°Jesus Christ, Allan! This is your son! Tell us where it is!¡± Bearded Guy shouted. The skinny one with the cap coughed again and leaned against the back of the truck. Bearded Guy shifted his aim from the young man¡¯s hand to his head. ¡°Fuck this. Tell me or I¡¯ll kill him. You¡¯re killing Davie, man. It¡¯s only fair.¡± He took a firm grip with both hands on his pistol and Katie heard the sound of the safety pull free. She sighted him again and let her finger glide to the trigger. Suddenly a strong hand went around her mouth while another pulled her hand free of her weapon. She flailed but the hand on her trigger hand moved around her middle and dragged her down, pinning her. She tried to cry out but the hand was so powerful. ¡°Shh, Katie girl, it¡¯s me,¡± her dad whispered. ¡°Shh.¡± He released her and she spun around to see her dad kneeling behind her. He had icicles in his growing beard and he looked very pale. She hugged him fiercely and barely remembered to keep silent. Relief flooded through her and for a moment she forgot all about the men below. Her dad was alive. It was all she could ask for. ¡°It¡¯s up in Solon¡¯s Wake. The bank. A vault there¡­ okay? Just¡­ let him go.¡± The sound of Allan¡¯s voice made her turn back to peer through the briers at the action below. Bearded Guy looked back towards the truck, but didn¡¯t move his weapon. Katie¡¯s dad held a finger to his lips and put his hand on her weapon to keep it down. He shook his head. ¡°What vault? Your personal account?¡± Ponytail moved behind the truck, presumably to where Allan was. ¡°Yes. You¡¯ll need my authorization code.¡± ¡°Not if the power¡¯s out, doc.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take you, okay? Just¡­ don¡¯t harm him.¡± Ponytail reached down and pulled Allan to his feet. He was a middle aged man who still had a thick head of hair, though it was all white. He wore glasses and jacket that looked far too light for the weather. Ponytail shoved him towards the truck and then opened the rear passenger door. ¡°Get in, buddy,¡± he said with a snarl. ¡°We¡¯re going for a drive.¡± Bearded Guy picked up the young man by his collar and marched him around to the other side. In moments they were all packed up and the truck started. Solon¡¯s Wake. She remembered going there once with Lindsay and her mom when she was twelve. Upscale area with expensive shops. Lindsay¡¯s mom got herself a designer purse. The two of them pretty much lost themselves in the arcade. Her dad tapped her on the shoulder as the truck drove off and they backed away, further into the woods. They stopped near the corpse of Jacob Eisner and her dad shook his head at the sight. The look he gave her was a sorrowful one. Katie only shrugged. ¡°Dad, we have to help those people. We could have taken them¡­ why didn¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Are you that ready to take a living man¡¯s life, Katie? Are you ready for that responsibility? That weight?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± She didn¡¯t know. Afterall, she¡¯d hesitated earlier. What if she couldn¡¯t do it when the time came? Her hesitation had nearly gotten them killed before. She hung her head. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± His hand touched her shoulder again. ¡°It¡¯s nothing to be ashamed of. But you are right. We need to help those people. We¡¯ll need them.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Her dad¡¯s face turned grim and he released his grip on her shoulder. Reaching down, he pulled up his sleeve, revealing a torn leather bracer. Dried blood was crusted all over the bite location. It had gotten through. Katie¡¯s heart sank. ¡°Because he knows how to stop this.¡± ELEVEN Katie stared at her dad, unable to process what he just told her. He can stop this? That guy can stop all this? She opened and closed her mouth half a dozen times before she managed to speak. ¡°How?¡± ¡°Katie, it¡¯s a very long story. What¡¯s important is that we ensure his safety.¡± Her dad exhaled heavily, his breath misting in the chill air. Katie felt strange, like her whole world wasn¡¯t quite in focus. He knew this the whole time? He knew about the virus too. What else did he know that he wasn¡¯t telling her? His gaze turned from her, following the direction of the truck. For long moments, silence stretched between them. Katie wanted to ask him why he didn¡¯t tell her this, why he¡¯d keep such a secret from her? Why he kept any secrets from her at all. Didn¡¯t he trust her? ¡°Okay. We need to get back to the bunker. We¡¯ll never beat them there but they¡¯ll have to pass near the base. If I can get through to Bill¡­¡± He was already pushing hard through the snow, heading back the way Katie had come. He was a good ten yards before he realized she wasn¡¯t following. Turning, he frowned at her, a bewildered expression on his face. ¡°Katie? Let¡¯s go. We need to hurry.¡± ¡°How do you know that guy, dad?¡± She gripped the tactical strap tightly, the weapon attached to it suddenly felt like a live viper. He¡¯d taught her how to use it, trained her to survive yes, but also how to fight, how to kill. He¡¯d trained her. She¡¯d thought it was all fun and father-daughter bonding, but now she wasn¡¯t so sure. ¡°Your dad is a liar, Katherine.¡± Her mom¡¯s voice had shouted those words at her the night before she¡¯d left. Are you a liar, dad? Are you lying to me? ¡°What? We don¡¯t have time for this, Katie. Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Not¡­¡± She swallowed hard. ¡°Not until you tell me.¡± The expression that settled into her dad¡¯s face unsettled her. It was closed, impassive. Unreadable. He¡¯d always been so open with her, so warm. This look was cold. ¡°Katherine Leigh, I¡¯m sorry, but right now we need to move. I¡¯ll tell you everything you need to know, but right now we need to move.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair wash over her. He took a step towards her, his jaw clenching. ¡°Katie, we need to move. Infected are all around this area. Don¡¯t be stupid. You¡¯re acting like a child.¡± I¡¯m your child, dad. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she said, her voice barely more than a whisper as she brushed past him. He growled, then sighed and fell in step beside her. They walked briskly, making good time. Katie¡¯s anger and frustration and uncertainty washed away any fatigue. In that state, she felt like she could walk forever. They were within sight of the bunker when he put a hand on her arm and stopped her. She didn¡¯t look at him, opting to just stay where she was and look at the copse of trees with the solar panels suspended in them. ¡°His name is Doctor Allan Kirchner. He¡¯s treated the virus in the past¡­ in a way.¡± ¡°In a way?¡± she frowned, turning her gaze on him again. ¡°The hell does that mean, dad?¡± ¡°If the virus hasn¡¯t reached the later aspects of Stage 2, it can be treated. It doesn¡¯t get rid of the virus, but it does delay the effects.¡± ¡°For how long?¡± He shrugged and opened his mouth to say more when a shriek came from the woods directly ahead. It was quickly answered by another and another. Soon the howls of infected were numbering in the dozens. ¡°Shit,¡± he said and pushed her forward. ¡°Go!¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The sun was already low and the overcast skies turned the forest dark early. They came out of the woods like wraiths in the night, skin pale and dead, mouths open and hungry. Katie ran for the bunker entrance, her hands grasping her rifle and flipping the safety off. She found the trigger and fired, trying to drop any that were close to her destination. Firing while moving was hard and she missed more often than she hit. Her dad was right behind her and was far more accurate. Every time his rifle barked, an infected fell. He might have trained her, but she was barely a beginner in comparison. The hatchway began to lift with a click of her dad¡¯s remote and Katie sprinted for it. Just as she was about to jump for the stairwell, a man in the remnants of a national guard uniform appeared around the hatchway door. His hands caught her shoulder and she was lifted off her feet and crashed heavily to the ground, stunned. Her head rung and an intense dizziness overtook her. She didn¡¯t have time to cry out as the infected fell on her, hands reaching for head. Instinctively she brought a knee up and wedged it between her body and his. She tried to kick him off but he was too heavy. Her rifle was pinned between her leg and her chest as well. Useless. Cold, dead hands grasped her face and pulled it towards his open mouth. ¡°Katie!¡± her dad¡¯s voice was close. Where was he? She wanted to cry for help but the thing was too strong. As she was pulled upward, her eyes caught sight of a holstered pistol on the infected¡¯s chest harness. She fumbled and drew it out, praying it was loaded and ready to fire. Aided by fear and adrenaline, she squeezed the palm safeties as her finger pulled on the trigger. The explosion of the bullet going off caused terrific pain to shoot through her ears and a deafening ring replaced the sound of her dad¡¯s cries. Then the weight of the infected was gone and her dad lifted her up and guided her towards the entrance. She stumbled towards the door at the bottom, turning to watch as her dad shoved the barrel of his rifle into the throat of an infected as it tried to climb after them. She couldn¡¯t hear the rifle go off, but the black and gray matter that erupted from the back of the infected¡¯s neck told her all she needed to know. Then the hatch was closed and bolted and her dad punched in the code for the main door. Moments later they were inside and Katie fell to her knees, coughing as the memory of infected¡¯s mouth just inches from her own made her stomach churn. She reached up and touched her ear. Despite the pain she felt, her glove came away dry. Her ear drums weren¡¯t ruptured at least. Arms were suddenly thrown around her and she panicked, trying to throw them off. It was only when she saw Lindsay¡¯s face hovering nearby that she realized she was safe. The ringing slowly began to dissipate and her hearing returned, if more than a little muffled. ¡°Katie? Katie are you okay?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± she said, likely too loud. Lindsay flinched and her dad knelt at Katie¡¯s side. He had a flashlight and was doing something to her ear. ¡°Katie, focus on me, okay?¡± Lindsay said and took Katie¡¯s face between her hands. She found herself staring into those big, green eyes and the overwhelming fear from the last few minutes began to drain away. Minutes passed while her dad looked her over and eventually, her hearing returned somewhat to normal. ¡°Katie? Can you hear me?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah,¡± she said, breaking Lindsay¡¯s gaze and turning toward her dad. ¡°Did it¡­ did it bite me?¡± He chuckled and held out a pistol to her. It was the one she¡¯d taken from the infected. Grasping it, she looked up with a frown, uncomprehending. ¡°You¡¯re fine. That was damn resourceful of you, shooting it with its own weapon. A Ranger couldn¡¯t have done better.¡± Katie looked down at the weapon. I hit it? She¡¯d been so panicked at the time she wasn¡¯t sure. Guess I got lucky. Her dad squeezed her shoulder. ¡°Katie¡­ I¡¯m sorry about calling you childish. You¡¯re not a kid and¡­ we¡¯ll talk soon. Okay? But right now I need to see if I can contact Bill.¡± Katie managed to nod and after he disappeared into the room at the back of the bunker, she felt an overwhelming need to strip off her gear. Struggling with her vest and coat, her fingers fumbled until Lindsay reached out and stilled them. Without a word, she unzipped her coat for her and pulled it off. Dropping it on the floor, she hugged Katie again, tightly. ¡°I saw¡­ on the monitor¡­ I wanted to help but I¡¯m so useless, I couldn¡¯t even find a gun. I¡¯m sorry!¡± Katie tried to tell her that it was fine, but found that she had no energy for it. Her dad knew things but wouldn¡¯t share them. The infected had almost bitten her. Just like that. One minute they were talking and the next¡­ ¡°I¡¯m so scared.¡± Lindsay¡¯s whispered, terrified words cut through Katie¡¯s self reflection and she looked down at her. Her friend was shaking, her face buried into Katie¡¯s shoulder. Part of her was angry. She¡¯d been safe down here, what did she have to cry about? But another part, a part that put herself in Lindsay¡¯s place knew exactly what she meant. And that part won out. Katie pulled her into a tight embrace. ¡°I¡¯ll protect you. I promise.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make promises,¡± Lindsay said and Katie found herself nodding. How could she, after all? Death was only a bite away. Unless they found Allan Kirchner. ¡°Did you have any luck with the radio?¡± Lindsay stepped away and her expression slowly changed. It was nearly a smile, a tentative hope. She nodded. ¡°There¡¯s a FEMA camp north of here. I talked to some guy named Zach who is a soldier there but we got cut off after a few minutes. He says it¡¯s near Lake Seneca.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a long way,¡± Katie said. ¡°Did your mom get there?¡± Linday shrugged, her expression falling again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I tried to contact him again but there¡¯s been nothing.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll keep trying, Linds. That at least, I can promise.¡± TWELVE Katie was eating cold ravioli from a can when her dad emerged from the radio room. His expression was controlled, but something about his stance told Katie that he was preparing for something mentally. Lindsay saw it too when she looked up from the book she was reading, a dog-eared SciFi paperback. Licking her lips and dropping her spoon into the half-finished can, Katie regarded him carefully. ¡°What¡¯s going on, dad?¡± He didn¡¯t answer right away but walked to the gun closet and retrieved a gun that Katie rarely saw him use. The SCAR 17 was distinctively different looking than their AR-15s and chambered a bigger round. ¡°Stopping power¡± her dad called it. But if their normal 5.56 rounds were good enough for the Infected then¡­ ¡°Katie, stay here. Watch the bunker. Keep Lindsay safe.¡± He pulled six fully loaded magazines and started loading them into a plate-carrier before slinging it over his shoulders. With his vest strapped on and his SCAR secured, he went into the supply room and began shoving supplies into a scramble pack. She got up and followed him in, lingering in the doorway with a frown. ¡°Dad, where are you going?¡± ¡°I told you, we need to get Kirchner back. Bill and I are going after him.¡± ¡°Bill¡¯s coming? How? The base is a good two hours away!¡± He hefted the pack onto this shoulders and grinned at her. He didn¡¯t say anything but moved past her back into the main room and knelt in front of Lindsay. She had the book folded over her thumb, keeping her page and just stared at him, unsure what to do. He held out a slip of paper to her. ¡°Bill says the guy you were talking to is Zach Evans, a Specialist with the US Army up in Geneva. They have a FEMA camp and fortified position up there. Here¡¯s his frequency.¡± Lindsay reached out and took the paper hesitantly. She nodded to him just once before he reached out, squeezed her shoulder and then stood. Turning to Katie, he took her aside and led her from sleeping rooms and into the living quarters. ¡°Listen to me very carefully,¡± he said, lowering his voice. ¡°Bill is bringing in a chopper. The plan is to get to Kirchner, extract him and retreat to Fort Dix in New Jersey. We¡¯ll be gone for several days.¡± ¡°I want to go with you,¡± she said, a sudden panic welling up inside her. ¡°Dad¡­ you¡­ I thought you were dead¡­ you can¡¯t just go now¡­¡± His face softened and he frowned, gripping both her shoulders with his large hands. When she was little, she used to hold those hands as they walked through the woods. Her small fingers would be completely enveloped by his. They were rough, worn and strong, yet always holding hers so gently she barely felt them at all. In the two years since the divorce, she¡¯d only ever felt comfort here, with him. Her mother expected things she couldn¡¯t give and couldn¡¯t be. Her dad just wanted her to smile. And to shoot straight, of course. Words were never his strong point. They spoke in other ways, with a language written in trips to the mountains and the beauty of a winter morning in the forest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Katie-girl,¡± he whispered and hugged her tightly. She returned the hug, the suspicions of his lies forgotten for now. She wanted to feel safe again and right then, she did. Don¡¯t ever leave me again, she thought but could not bring herself to say it aloud. Finally, he sighed and stepped back.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Look, the CB isn¡¯t powerful enough to reach Jersey if power is down or the relays fail. Do you remember the radio station in Thorpe?¡± She did, but only barely. They¡¯d gone there for one of her birthdays when she was convinced she was going to be a famous radio personality. She¡¯d gotten to sit in the torn leather seat Johnny T sat in when he was doing his show. She¡¯d been very excited. And also ten years old. ¡°I¡­ kind of?¡± ¡°If you go back to Main and head straight east out of town, you¡¯ll come to Route Eleven. Remember? Eleven north for about twenty minutes, then take the Thorpe exit. It¡¯s the biggest building. You can¡¯t miss the tower.¡± ¡°Okay, sure, I got it¡­ but why?¡± Her dad squeezed her shoulders again. ¡°If I don¡¯t get back, or if the radio has trouble, go there. It should have enough power to reach Fort Dix. The frequency is in my files. You still remember the code for the safe?¡± Four-one-nine-five. ¡°Yeah.¡± He grinned and patted her on the shoulder. ¡°Good. If you don¡¯t hear from me in two weeks, try to get in touch with Fort Dix. Got it?¡± She paled. Two weeks? He could be gone two weeks? What was she supposed to do for that long? Suddenly the bunker felt very claustrophobic. The air smelled musty and damp. She felt cold and it seemed too dark inside. Her breathing started becoming more rapid as panic threatened. ¡°Hey, hey, Katie,¡± he said and gave her a small shake. ¡°It¡¯s because they could put us under guard for a bit. Understand? I don¡¯t want to tip them off about this place if I don¡¯t have to¡ª¡± A sudden, constant pulsing echoed through the ground and into the bunker. It was a steady, rapid wap-wap-wap. The helicopter. ¡°Dad¡­¡± she began, but found that her panic had turned to sharp fear. ¡°Dad, don¡¯t¡­ just¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t say the rest. Don¡¯t leave me. He must have read it in her face and drew her into another fierce embrace. She hugged him hard, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She whispered ¡°don¡¯t go¡± over and over. Suddenly she felt like she was five years old, grasping her dad¡¯s leg and saying those same words before he left for deployment. She¡¯d said them again years later, after the divorce papers ripped her away for 9 months out of the year. ¡°There¡¯s a folder, in my files. Black Dawn. Remember that word, do you understand?¡± He was looking her in the eye now, his face deadly serious. Black Dawn, she thought and committed it to memory even though she didn¡¯t know what it meant. It only scared her more. It felt like he was saying goodbye. She nodded. ¡°Be strong,¡± he said and kissed her on the forehead. ¡°Always remember. The easiest day was¡­?¡± ¡°Yesterday,¡± she sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes, then nodded. ¡°Remember, get to the radio station if the CB goes down. Two weeks,¡± he said and went for the door. Katie rushed to the monitors and saw that the helicopter was descending into the area west of the bunker. It was attracting attention too. Infected were converging on it from all angles. ¡°Dad, they¡¯re everywhere out there!¡± He pulled open the main door and turned to give her a wink. She was about to protest again when there was a series of flashes from the helicopter. Turning back to the monitor, she saw a large machine gun opening up on the infected. It was mounted to the side of the helicopter and operated by a soldier in full combat gear. There was one firing from the other side as well. Stunned, she didn¡¯t even see her father leave and lock the door behind him. With her heart thumping hard in her chest and her stomach attempting to purge itself from anxiety, Katie watched her father run towards the helicopter. He raised his powerful rifle and several infected fell. The men in the helicopter continued to fire, the large machine guns tearing into the small horde that was converging on them. They closed in, running towards her dad on both sides. For a long, terrible moment, Katie didn¡¯t think he was going to make it. She was looking around for her rifle, ready to run out and help, when she saw a bright flash go off into the middle of them. The bunker vibrated slightly and there was a quick, muffled thump. The monitor went white for a moment and Katie blinked her eyes in alarm. When it cleared again, the infected had turned on the source of the violent explosion of sound and light. Her dad¡¯s path was now clear and he jumped into the helicopter as it began to pull away. It was out of sight in seconds, but the horde remained, seeking the disturbance in vain. She made mental note of that. Lindsay appeared at her side, her eyes glued to the monitors as well. She reached out and took Katie¡¯s hand, then turned to look at her. Katie could see real fear in her friend¡¯s eyes, but something else too. Trust. Lindsay trusted her to get them through this. And I will. THIRTEEN The helicopter flew low over snow-covered trees. The wake of disturbed air created a white mist behind them, flaring outward in concentric circles before falling to the earth again. The wind was biting cold and the heavy thumping of the rotor blades made the chill air blow strong into uncovered faces. Six men sat within, the pilot and co-pilot were up front while four others crouched in the loading area. Three were all dressed the same, with black BDUs, bulletproof vests and tactical slings. M4s were stowed between their legs. Unlike the AR-15, the M4s civilian-approved cousin, these guns were military issued and had fully automatic fire. Only these men weren¡¯t military. Not anymore. Chris Fox held his SCAR 17 across his lap, the muzzle facing the open door. The man across from him was grinning. The man¡¯s beard was thin, closely cropped across a wide, dimpled chin and mottled gray and brown. The hard look in his eyes matched Chris¡¯s. They¡¯d both seen the Beast, something soldiers called Combat. They¡¯d seen other things together, horrible things. That they were paid handsomely for the work didn¡¯t seem to matter much anymore. ¡°What¡¯d you tell her?¡± Bill said, speaking across the headsets they wore. Chris shrugged, not wanting to talk about the daughter he¡¯d left sealed in his bunker. She wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. He¡¯d made contingencies, plans to keep her safe. She and her mother were to be evacuated first if Zero Event occurred. He¡¯d gotten confirmation that his ex-wife was safe an hour before Katie had called him. Katie. She didn¡¯t belong wrapped up in this, but there was nothing for it now. He¡¯d trained her, but he¡¯d never really believed she¡¯d need it. Zero Event was never supposed to happen. Plans were made. SOPs were in place. Obviously, they¡¯d all failed. He looked out across the treetops and spotted the radio tower he¡¯d mentioned to Katie. Grabbing hold of the door¡¯s safety grips, he leaned further out, trying to get a good look at it. What he saw turned his pale skin white as milk. Infected were everywhere. They milled about within the chain-linked fence and were climbing in and out of the shattered windows. The tower itself was littered with bodies. Someone had tried to climb it. Her remains were just tatters, stuck through the piping. Shit. He called into his headset, hoping the pilots were on the same wave. ¡°I need to make a CB call!¡± A moment later the pilots voice responded. ¡°Frequency?¡± ¡°Zero-Niner-Charlie.¡± ¡°Message?¡± ¡°Radio Tower overrun. Do not approach. Repeat, do not approach.¡± ¡°Copy.¡± Several minutes passed as the chopper cruised passed the radio tower and onward towards Solon¡¯s. He waited anxiously while the pilot, or likely the co-pilot, relayed his message. He could only hope that Katie heard it. I was stupid to tell her to go there. ¡°Sir?¡± the pilot was broadcasting again. He almost missed it and clicked the return button. ¡°Did it go through?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. No response.¡± ¡°Send it again, every two minutes.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Bill frowned at him, squinting his eyes. The expression was a silent question. Chris swallowed and pointed back towards the radio station. ¡°I told Katie to go there if the CB goes down.¡± ¡°How long did you tell her to wait?¡± ¡°Two weeks.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be done in three days,¡± Bill said and grinned again. ¡°Just like old times.¡± No, Chris thought as he stared back at the tower. This isn¡¯t anything like that. # ¡°Two minutes!¡± the pilot called over the intercom. The chopper was cruising fast and low towards Solon¡¯s Wake. The town was full of low buildings made of brick, all in neat and orderly rows. It was dominated by a single, enormous graveyard at its center. The dead laid to rest there numbered in the hundreds and dated as far back as the Revolutionary War. From the looks of it, the walking dead were now outnumbering them. ¡°Land on the bank roof,¡± Chris said and the pilot zippered the mic to acknowledge him. Three short blips. Turning, Chris looked at Bill and the other two men. Turner and Williams were stenciled on their breast pockets but he didn¡¯t recognize either of them. ¡°We¡¯re here for Allan Kirchner. I trust Bill¡¯s briefed you on him?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The two men nodded. ¡°Good. We are to capture him alive. This is paramount. We must secure the samples as well. Both of these are primary objectives.¡± ¡°Williams here is a certified safe cracker,¡± Turner said, jabbing a thumb in Williams¡¯ direction. ¡°I was a Naval Corpsman before this, sir. We can secure the samples.¡± ¡°Do you know what you¡¯re looking for?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Chris quirked a brow at Bill, who grinned. ¡°You think I¡¯d bring newbies? Fuck, I¡¯d bring the whole Spook Corps if I could find them.¡± ¡°Has anyone checked in?¡± Bill nodded. ¡°Yeah. North West and DC. Both are on the Ford.¡± Chris breathed a small sigh of relief. Good, not everything had gone to shit. The USS Gerald R. Ford was in motion then. The Supercarrier would be off Virginia¡¯s coastline by now. ¡°The government?¡± Bill grinned and was about to open his mouth when Chris spotted a truck out of the corner of his eye. The humvee was parked at the rear of the bank, its tailgate smashed right against the door. Infected crawled all over the hood but as the chopper circled about, Chris didn¡¯t see anyone inside. Must have gotten out through the hatch, he thought. Not a bad plan. The humvee¡¯s bulk was keeping any infected from entering the door, at least for now. The chopper settled onto the flat, stone roof with a rush of wind and the whine of rotor blades. Dust and small rocks flew out from the skids as the four of them jumped out, Chris taking the lead. He¡¯d replaced his headset with a tactical earpiece and clicked the mic at his throat as he rushed to the roof entrance door. The chopper lifted off again, intending to stay aloft for twenty minutes on alert. They wouldn¡¯t need that much time, he hoped. Stacking up at the door, Turner held up three fingers, then two, then one and pulled the door open. As one, all four checked the door and, finding it clear, Chris went through it. The stairwell was cast in a red light, the emergency lights at his feet the only operating illumination. He kept his head on a swivel, his gun following wherever his eyes went. Up, down, side to side, always moving as he descended the stairwell to the ground floor. The door there had something pooling beneath it. Chris clicked on his rifle¡¯s light and illuminated a dark liquid slowly running from under the door to his boot. Blood. It had to be fresh, otherwise it would have dried by now. He signaled to Turner and Williams to stay on the stairs and train their guns on the doorway while he and Bill pulled it open. A body slumped inside the moment the door was pulled. Turner and Williams tracked the body with their weapons as it fell while Chris and Bill stepped back and aimed at the doorway. No one fired a shot and nothing appeared from the hallway beyond. A few moments passed while they waited in silence and then Chris turned his light on the body. It was a woman who must have been a bank guard. There was a single gunshot wound to her temple and an empty 1911A pistol in her left hand. After a quick search, Chris found bite marks on her left leg. That explains that, then. He made a few more hand signals to Bill and they went through the door, Chris going left while Bill went right. Turner and Williams came behind, closing the door behind them, leaving the body in the stairwell. The hallway was lit just like the stairwell, small red lights at the baseboards casting everything in a dull, red hue. Chris moved quickly forward, crouching with his weapon ready until he came to a corner. When he checked around it, he saw five infected trying to get through a door behind the main bank counter. The main doors were closed and infected were milling about outside. He¡¯d have to secure them fast. A tap on his shoulder told him Bill had completed his sweep and that the rest were stacked up behind him. He held up his hand, forefinger and thumb making an ¡°O¡± and placed against his forehead. Infected. Then held up five fingers and indicated the direction. Keeping two fingers up he pointed to himself, then one to Bill, then one each for the others. Finally, he swept his hand left to right. He¡¯d take the first two on the left, Bill the next one, Turner and Williams the final two. Everyone nodded. It happened very fast. They fanned out quickly and Chris fired two shots, both striking each one of his targets in the head. The first had been a man in a business suit and woolen overcoat. He fell against the wall, leaving a red and gray smear as he slid away. The next was a girl no older than Katie. His shot took her in the back of he head and she pitched forward into Bill¡¯s target, an older woman. They disappeared together behind the counter in a spray of blood and brains. Chris didn¡¯t take the time to think about whom he¡¯d killed. If he did, the fact that girl looked a lot like Katie would haunt him for hours. He had a job to do. Turning he sprinted for the doors and took out two steel chords from his pack. He looped them through the door¡¯s bars and secured them tightly, sealing them with a click of the lock. That would hold them for a while and the glass was bulletproof. They¡¯d never break through it. He¡¯d just secured the second set of doors when the infected rushed it, drawn by the gunfire. They slammed against the doors, but they opened out and the undead began to clump up, hissing and screeching and clawing for him. The woman in front was old, her gray hair tangled, dirty strands matted against a wrinkled, spotted forehead. She hissed with a toothless mouth. ¡°Chris,¡± Bill said and turned back towards his people. Turner and Williams pulled the bodies away from the door while he and Bill swept the rest of the room for any entrances. When they¡¯d secured the only other entrance into the main room, they returned to the door behind the counter. If Infected wanted in there, something to eat was inside. Turner and Williams stood on either side of the door while he and Bill took cover behind the counter. When they were all ready, Chris called out. ¡°Kirchner? Are you in there?¡± ¡°Yes! Oh my God, help¡ª!¡± There was a sound that was halfway between a cry and a hiccup. Something cut off the man¡¯s words. Chris¡¯s finger twitched but he kept it still against his trigger guard. ¡°We¡¯re going to breach the door. You have ten seconds to open it. No one needs to get hurt!¡± Four second passed and then another man¡¯s voice came. It was the bearded man from the forest. ¡°Who are you? Military?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Captain Chris Fox,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re hear to get the Doctor.¡± ¡°We need him!¡± said the man behind the door. ¡°M-my brother¡¯s sick!¡± Chris swore silently. Kirchner was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the world at that moment. ¡°We¡¯ll see he¡¯s treated. Now open the door!¡± A few more seconds passed and then, slowly, the door pulled open. It revealed Allan Kirchner on his knees with the bearded man standing behind him with a pistol to his head. The skinny man who must be his brother was sitting on the ground nearby, coughing. The one with the ponytail was half hidden behind the door, his rifle aimed at them. Bill and Chris aimed their weapons but did not fire. Williams and Turner remained motionless, unseen in their positions. ¡°Put your weapons down!¡± the bearded man said. ¡°Or I¡¯ll kill him.¡± ¡°Okay, man. Cool, all right?¡± Chris said and complied, standing to put his rifle on the counter. Bill rose and did the same. When Allan saw Bill¡¯s uniform, the color drained from his face. ¡°No¡­ not them! Oh my god, not them!¡± FOURTEEN It began in the Ukraine. Katie sat on her cot with the files open in her lap. Her dad¡¯s safe was right where he¡¯d always kept it, hidden behind the freezer storage. The numbers were the same and it opened on the first try. Inside, she¡¯d found hundreds of folders full of papers. She expected to find his financial records and house sale stuff along with what he¡¯d told her to search for. She¡¯d expected to spend hours rooting around, sifting through the data of their past. Maybe she¡¯d find old photos too, ticket stubs when he¡¯d taken her to see Finch in concert. There was nothing in these files that connected him to her in any way. The entire safe was full of personnel and identity records, transfers from one unrecognizable series of numbers to another. Classified locations, she thought as she¡¯d set them aside. She remembered her dad telling her about scrambled GPS coordinates he¡¯d used as a Ranger. ¡°The normal person can¡¯t remember more than seven digits easily,¡± he¡¯d said once when they were camping high in the mountains. She¡¯d been fifteen and complaining about math homework and how numbers were annoying and hard to remember. In the crackling firelight he¡¯d laughed and held up all ten fingers. ¡°So we¡¯d just scramble random numbers, ten of them, for locations. Easiest encryption in the world.¡± I wish I¡¯d asked how to unscramble them, she thought with a sigh as she stared down at a paper full of numbers. Beside each number was a name and a four digit number attached to it. The file was labeled ¡°O-UK POI.¡± People of Interest. One of them was crossed out, a woman named ¡°Gilski, H. 4981.¡± Allan Kirchner was on there too. ¡°Kirchner, A. 1176.¡± In that same file, on a separate piece of paper, was a collection of notes about virulence and strains. It didn¡¯t make much sense to her, being full of incoherent formulas and terms like Lyssavirus genus and ribonucleoprotein. She¡¯d ask Lindsay about them later. She¡¯d always been good at biology. A letter-sized print out of a map was attached to this, showing a topographical layout of a remote mountain region. After comparing some other notes she¡¯d found, she decided that this was somewhere in the Ukraine, in the Carpathian Mountains. Under the Soviets, sick miners had been quarantined there years ago, left to die so what they had didn¡¯t spread. In that same collection of notes she found references to experiments done on the island in 1943 by German scientists. The term ¡°Null-Ereignis¡± was circled. She had no idea what that meant but committed the term to memory. Later, she¡¯d ask him about it. She¡¯d have time later. In another folder she found more references to a town named Pyiv. In it she found notes on experiments, their dates and findings. It was there that she found her first notations about a virus. There¡¯d been cases of it dating back as far as the 1960s. The Soviets claimed a virulent flu had killed miners in the region and quarantined the entire area. US and UK special forces had infiltrated the area years later, looking for evidence of what they suspected was a Bioweapon. Worse, she found that a Ranger team had secured samples of a virus from a lab in the area and brought it back to the United States. The names of those Rangers were omitted, though Katie suspected she knew at least one of them. Her father had been there, she knew it. He¡¯d known about the virus and what it did. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She forced herself to keep reading, to dig deeper. It got worse, so much worse. They¡¯d known about the virus, about its effects, about what it could do and they¡¯d covered it up. Not just the military. The CDC. The very highest members of the government. She found references to the virus in a letter to the CDC director in Atlanta, stating that they were working on a cure. Folded inside an envelope were several letters from to her dad, but there was no hint who¡¯d sent them. Some of them were over five years old. Whoever they were, her dad had been in contact with them since 2009. Another name made her stomach freeze over. Also addressed was ¡°Captain William Reynolds.¡± Bill. That was her dad¡¯s friend¡¯s name. Why would he lie to her? Why didn¡¯t he tell her about any of this? He¡¯d left the Rangers back in 2008, just before he¡¯d¡­ before he¡¯d¡­ Before he¡¯d begun to make the shelter. That wasn¡¯t all. There were dates that coincided with when her dad went off with Bill ¡°hunting¡± or ¡°training with his old army buddies.¡± Sometimes he was gone for a week. Katie remembered those absences very well. She found that he¡¯d been deployed to Mexico, Cambodia, Peru and a number of other places. All it said about the missions were that they were ¡°quarantine¡± operations. She felt a sudden anger rush through her and she stood up, wanting to throw the papers onto the ground and stomp on them like a child might step on a broken toy. He¡¯d lied to her! He¡¯d lied to her and mom! He¡¯d known about all of this from the start and he¡­ he¡­ He trained you to fight it, she thought, slumping back onto the cot. Suddenly, she felt like crying. Everything she thought she¡¯d known was one big lie, a lie that was now burning up the world. Had her dad helped unleashed this on the world or merely tried to contain it? The answers might be in those files but there were so many. She¡¯d spent the last day just trying to understand them. Standing, Katie went into the pantry and began to brew some coffee. Most people used the drink to wake up but Katie always felt calmer when she was holding a warm cup of coffee in her hand. Drinking it helped too, but it was merely sitting with a fresh brewed cup that did the trick. While the coffee brewed, she ducked into the radio room to check on Lindsay. Her friend was hunched over the CB radio, her head on her arms, fast asleep. Lindsay was up all night trying to contact this Zach Evans without much luck yet. The radio waves were a mess and the connection had cut out sometime that morning. That didn¡¯t stop Lindsay from trying anyway. Katie retrieved a blanket from the living quarters and returned to drape it over Lindsay¡¯s shoulders. Her friend stirred but didn¡¯t wake up, which Katie was glad for. Katie silently hoped they hadn¡¯t missed word from her dad since Lindsay was using it all the time, but the radio went two ways right? Wish I¡¯d taken more of an interest, she thought, considering how her dad had always tried to teach her how to use it and repair it. The CB never held much of an interest for Katie. She preferred to spend time with her dad out in the wilderness rather than talking to other people. Other people were why she ran back here so often. Crossing back into the living area, Katie briefly thought of those she¡¯d left behind in New York. Well, of one person she¡¯d left behind. They hadn¡¯t parted well. It had been full of tears and pleading and yelling. She felt a pang of guilt at that. Was her mother even alive? Was New York overrun? She found, to her disgust, that she felt almost nothing in regards to it. No longing, no fear, no apprehension. When she tried to feel sorry for her mother, it wouldn¡¯t come. Thump. ¡°The hell¡­¡± she said aloud as another loud thump came from the direction of the door. Her eyes widened and she rushed to the security cameras. The cloudy days had made their solar power stretched thin, so she¡¯d kept most of them off, but not the ones facing the bunker¡¯s doorway and hatch above. What she saw made her wish she¡¯d never looked. Standing in the stairway leading to the bunker¡¯s main door, were three people she knew. They¡¯d all taken the survival class her dad offered and that Katie helped him teach. Patrick and Veronica Petersen and their son Jon were standing outside, banging on the door. Fear was all over their faces, but that wasn¡¯t all. She saw blood, too. FIFTEEN Chris Fox held his hands up, palms out and fingers splayed as he stepped back from the counter and away from his SCAR 17 rifle. Beside him, Bill did the same while they both eyed the bearded man as he held a gun to the head of Allan Kirchner. The man¡¯s hand shook and he constantly looked from Chris and Bill to somewhere out of sight. He held Allan hostage behind an open security door that led to the bank¡¯s vault. Chris needed to get in that vault. Pressed against the wall on either side of the security door, Williams and Turner waited, unseen by the bearded man and his group. The two soldiers were like statues of flesh and blood, barely moving, barely even breathing. Only their eyes shifted from the door to Chris and back again, slowly, over and over as they waited for a signal. Chris calculated they could take down the bearded man easily, probably before he shot Kirchner, but there was another two men inside. One of them was out of sight, but sick. Chris had gathered that much. A skinny little man, he was the bearded man¡¯s brother. The other was a tall, blond man with a ponytail. He was the real danger, carrying a rifle that Chris couldn¡¯t quite make out. It was an unknown and Chris did not like unknowns. Allan was white with fear, his hands shaking as he held them up in front of him. His thin, wire-framed glasses sat askew on his wide nose and his thick, white hair was matted with sweat. He swallowed several times and opened his mouth but couldn¡¯t seem to find any words. ¡°What the fuck do you mean, ¡®not them¡¯?¡± Bearded Guy said, nudging Allan with his pistol. The cold steel shoved his head forward, making Allan wince and whimper, the only sound he¡¯d made since his initial outburst. ¡°They¡¯re gonna fuckin¡¯ kill me!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, Allan,¡± Chris said, staying as still as possible with his hands still held up. ¡°We came to get you out of here.¡± ¡°Like Helen Gilski? You¡¯re going to get me ¡®out of here¡¯ like you did her? I know! I heard the rumors!¡± ¡°What¡¯s he talking about?¡± Bearded Guy said, eying Chris now. ¡°Who the fuck are they?¡± ¡°Private military! I told you!¡± Allan said, turning to look at Bearded Guy. ¡°They¡¯re here to kill me!¡± Chris continued to keep his hands up but he took a small step to his left. The movement made Bearded Guy switch his aim from Allan to Chris. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± Bearded Guy said. Chris nodded and stood rock still but from his new vantage point he could make out where Ponytail was standing. Turner could take him without completely clearing the door. He was carrying a modified AP4 which was both good news and bad news. The bad news is that it could shred Chris¡¯s body armor at this range, but the good news was that it was heavy, kicked hard and was fairly large to maneuver in that tight spot. Briefly catching Turner¡¯s eye he blinked rapidly twice. Turner squinted his eyes, not understanding the message. Chris inwardly cursed. He¡¯d likely been infantry then, or Navy. Damn it. Didn¡¯t those SEAL guys have SOPs when dealing with No-Talk-Hands-Bound situations? Unfortunately, if they did, Chris didn¡¯t know them. ¡°Allan, no one is here to hurt you,¡± Chris said just as the Infected outside began to wail and bang on the doors. They tried to swing inward but were held shut by the locks. Chris glanced over his shoulder, looked at both metal chords and estimated how long they¡¯d hold. Not long enough, of course. He¡¯d made countless plans that took many years to set up. Katie should be safe on the damn Ford, not holed up in his bunker! He¡¯d miscalculated the animosity between his daughter and his ex-wife. What had sparked it? What prompted her to leave in the middle of the night? But those were questions for later. ¡°Oh my God¡­ they¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re going to get through!¡± Allan said. ¡°You fucking led them to us!¡± Bearded Guy said and Chris saw the man¡¯s finger wrap around the trigger. This was getting stupid. Fast. ¡°No, you did that yourselves,¡± Chris said. ¡°You know it. You had to escape through the trunk. How were you planning on getting out? I can get a chopper here to get us all out safely.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. That appeared to give them all pause. Bearded Guy¡¯s finger came away from the trigger and Chris let out a breath he didn¡¯t know he¡¯d been holding. His aim slipped and for a brief moment, Chris considered signaling Turner. The man turned his gaze to his right and the gun pointed slightly down and away from Chris¡¯s center mass. He could signal and roll out right. The fight would last moments, but he had no way to organize Williams and Turner together, which could create confusion and a bad crossfire. That would likely kill someone he didn¡¯t want killed. He let the moment slide as Bearded Guy turned his attention back to Chris. ¡°My brother¡¯s sick. He needs a hospital.¡± ¡°I can provide that,¡± Chris said. ¡°What¡¯s he have?¡± ¡°He was bit! It¡¯s infected. Gave him a fever, ya know? He¡¯s sick.¡± Chris cursed inwardly. It was infected all right but not like this guy thought. Was he really that naive about the situation? True, not many people knew the facts like he did but everything seemed pretty obvious. Still, he had to play along. ¡°How long ago?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°How long ago was he bitten?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Bearded Guy looked down again, thinking. Once more Chris felt the urge to move, but the Infected slammed themselves against the glass doors again and the gun came up. It pointed past him, at the doors. Chris took a slight step forward and to the right. He was closer to his weapon now. One good lunge and he¡¯d have it. ¡°Your brother¡¯s a dead man, son,¡± Bill said in a voice that was almost kind. Bill was a little older than Chris, but always acted like he was a decade or more his senior. The man had no children, not even a wife, but somehow he acted like a father to everyone he met. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking say that!¡± Bearded Guy said and turned his aim on Bill. ¡°The doctor here says he has a cure!¡± ¡°No, not a cure, not really. It¡¯s an antibiotic of sorts, like for the flu!¡± Allan said, but another bang at the doors silenced him. Chris risked a glance backward. A thin, young woman was reaching a hand through the slight opening. As he watched, her forearm followed, the skin tearing and slicing off from the pressure as she pushed it through. The barrier would hold but not for much longer. He had to act and act quickly. The woman screamed through the doors and Bearded Guy shifted his aim again, his arm shaking. It was now or never and he had to take the chance. Chris locked eyes with Williams and made a motion towards him. Bearded Guy saw it, just as Chris intended and began to move to inspect what he was waving at. Luckily, Turner saw it too and stepped back from the wall. It all happened at once. Turner found Bearded Guy and brought his rifle to bear, then fired. Chris lunged for his own gun, caught it and went to his knees behind the counter. Bill rolled away, moving towards where his own weapon lay. Then Williams stepped back from the wall just as Turner¡¯s bullet ripped through Bearded Guy¡¯s chest. He found and took aim on Ponytail, who was caught utterly by surprise to see two new men step into view. He only had time to raise his weapon to his shoulder before Williams put two rounds in him. Chris brought his rifle to bear but found both Bearded Guy and Ponytail sprawled on the ground, Williams and Turner securing the entrance to the door. Allan was whimpering and crawled out of sight. There was another sound too, a moaning from the infected man. He was calling out feebly, asking for Rick over and over. Chris supposed that was Bearded Guy¡¯s name. He received no answer. Stepping into the room, Chris saw that both Rick and Ponytail were unmoving. Blood was beginning to saturate their clothes and pool on the tile floor. The Infected outside went wild, banging harder and screeching at an alarming rate. He swung his rifle around to check on them. One of the doors had a spiderweb crack appearing at its center where an Infected was ramming his head into it over and over. Blood smeared the location. Soon, others got the same idea. It was time to go. ¡°Allan!¡± he said, turning to where the man sat, cradling his son. The young man was conscious but dazed. His eyes were open but not looking at anything. He was white as a sheet. Infected? No, the eyes were normal. Shell shock then. Great. ¡°Turner, Williams, get the door and secure the samples. Allan? You¡¯re going to assist them.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just going to kill us!¡± he said, not looking back at Chris. ¡°No we won¡¯t, doctor. We need you.¡± Allan turned his head, small, beady eyes meeting Chris¡¯s. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°Get up,¡± he said and helped him do that with more force than he probably needed to. This civilian sack of shit was becoming more than a little annoying. Where was his courage? His fight to survive? He had a goddamn son to look after! Shoving him towards the vault, he turned to inspect the infected man. His eyes were open but glassy. They were bloodshot and pale. Veins stuck out clearly on his pale skin and his breathing was shallow and rapid. There were dried flakes of black blood on his lips. Stage 3. Chris let his rifle hang by its tactical strap and drew his pistol. Arming it, he stared once more at the dying man¡¯s cloudy eyes. They looked left and right, up and down. ¡°Rick?¡± the man coughed. ¡°Rick, I wanna go home. I feel¡­ I feel like¡­ shit¡­ can¡¯t see man¡­ it¡¯s all red¡­¡± Bringing the pistol up, Chris shot him in the forehead. The noise made Allan jump and squeal but garnered no reaction from Turner or Williams. Bill laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him around again. He pointed towards the door, then raised his rifle. Chris followed his line of sight as glass broke. They were coming through.