contamination 7 resistance con Page 2

  "Quiet," Simon warned.

  "There will be fewer mouths to feed without us," Hector pleaded. "You'll have a better chance at survival if we're not here."

  Simon pointed his pistol directly at Hector's chest. "I'm not doing a thing until Reginald's back."

  "What if he dies? What if he doesn't come back?" Sandy asked.

  Simon turned toward her. A curious expression crossed his face, and Sandy took a guess as to what that might mean. "You know where the supplies are."

  "No, I don't."

  "You do," Sandy said again. "I can tell by your expression."

  Simon pursed his lips, but didn't say anything.

  "This might be the chance we need to escape, Simon. If we take those supplies and leave, we might be able to find help. There has to be someone else out there—the military, the National Guard. We've talked about it on our supply runs. I know you've lost your sister. I lost my brother. We've all been through enough, Simon. We deserve to live."

  "I don't believe anyone's out there anymore." Simon's face grew sad as he said the words. "The only thing I know for sure is what's here. And that's why I'm staying."

  "For how long? Until Reginald decides he doesn't want to feed you anymore?"

  Simon bit his lip as he grew angry. "He won't starve me," he said, but his eyes harbored doubts.

  "He might, if he has to decide between feeding you and feeding himself. Reginald stole Dan's station wagon and left me to die while we were in St. Matthews. He has no allegiance to anyone. He's a convict, Simon."

  "We've all done things," Simon said, waving his hand dismissively.

  Sandy noticed Simon's eyes looked darker than she remembered. She realized she didn't know him well. He'd told her that he was a construction worker from Tucson, and that he'd escaped the creatures and made his way to St. Matthews after losing his sister. Regardless of what he might be hiding, the immediate threat was that she'd see headlights coming back toward the lumberyard. If Reginald returned, their hopes would be crushed.

  "The food is just a temporary fix," she argued. "We'll need more of it. Whatever we have here won't last more than a few weeks."

  "How will we find more?" Simon asked, the gun wavering in his hands.

  Sensing she was getting through to him, Sandy persisted, "We can take the food and water, and we can look for help. We'll have a better chance at surviving together than staying with Reginald."

  Simon opened and closed his mouth as he thought of an answer. Instead of replying, he looked over his shoulder, as if Reginald might be listening and waiting to accuse him.

  "You can blame me if something happens," Hector said, stepping forward. "I have nothing left to lose."

  Simon looked from one of them to the other. His eyes lingered on Anabel, who shielded her face while staying next to her mother. Finally, he lowered his gun and pointed at the shelves of lumber on the far side of the warehouse.

  "I saw where Reginald hid the supplies. If we're going to take them, we better hurry."

  Chapter Four

  "Reginald didn't think I saw where he put them, but I did," Simon explained as he hurried to a far corner of the warehouse. He threw a panicked look over his shoulder, as if Reginald might come charging through the door. He stopped and motioned toward a shelf about ten feet off the ground, holding up a lantern, illuminating stacks of wood.

  "We should probably guard the door," he said.

  "Finn, will you watch for Reginald's car?" Sandy called. "Let us know if you see headlights."

  "Will do."

  Finn ran across the warehouse and toward the entrance. He cracked the door and peered through. Simon moved a stepladder with wheels to the shelf.

  "I'll climb," Sandy suggested. "I'm smaller, so I can move faster."

  Simon nodded reluctantly, holding his gun at waist-level. "Okay."

  He watched Sandy climb to the top of the ladder. She put her leg onto the shelf, straining, and pulled herself up and onto a stack of wood. The wood shifted as two boards clanked together, sending an echo through the warehouse.

  "Crap," she swore.

  "All the way back, you'll see several garbage bags," Simon called up.

  Sandy scooted forward, using her hands to guide her. The shadowy light of the lantern barely lit the shelf on which she was crawling. For a moment, she envisioned creatures emerging from the wall and dragging her into the recesses of the warehouse, consuming her. Hot sweat poured down her face as she crawled across the boards. And then her hands were on the bags, and she was scooting back to the edge of the shelf and passing one down.

  "Here you go!" she said to Simon.

  He climbed up to meet her. They repeated the process several more times, until four bags of food sat on the warehouse floor.

  "Last one," Sandy said, scooting in and retrieving another.

  She paused before handing it down. A sting of guilt hit her. By taking all the supplies, she'd effectively be condemning Reginald, Billy, and Tom to death if the theory that they were immune wasn't true. But wasn't that the same fate with which Reginald threatened all of them?

  Sucking in a breath, she passed the bag down to Simon.

  A scream ripped their attention across the warehouse. Finn stumbled back through the doorway, flailing his arms. One of the creatures was latched onto him. He fell to the ground as the creature tore away a mouthful of his neck, hissing and groaning. Panic and confusion hit Sandy as she tried to figure out what was happening.

  "Finn!" she screamed, scooting from her perch on the shelf.

  Hector, Marcia, Anabel, and Simon were already racing for him. Sandy rushed down the ladder. Finn's screams of agony pierced through the warehouse. His hands flailed wildly at his sides as he tried to get out from underneath the thing that was pinning him down. Sandy ran across the warehouse, feeling powerless and too far away. Hector and Marcia reached Finn first, tugging at the creature's arms, but the creature was latched onto Finn, its long, dark hair swinging back and forth over its face as it attacked. Sandy couldn't even tell if it was male or female.

  "Stay back!" Simon shouted, reaching the scene and aiming his pistol. He shot the creature in the head, sending it sprawling face first on top of Finn. The others reached in and pulled it off.

  But it was too late.

  Finn spat mouthfuls of blood and grabbed his neck.

  "Jesus!" Sandy screamed as she took his side.

  Finn groped blindly, as if someone, or something, might help him.

  Another hiss drew their attention to the doorway. A creature ran at them from the parking lot. Hector slammed the door, but not in time. The hungry, writhing thing wedged itself in the frame, fighting and scratching. Sandy joined Hector, jumping to her feet and ramming the door with her shoulder, hoping to knock the thing back into the parking lot. The creature shrieked rabidly. Suddenly, it snaked an arm around the door and grabbed hold of Hector.

  "Hector!" Sandy shrieked.

  She tried to pry it off, but the creature had a firm grip.

  An enraged yell sounded from behind them. Sandy turned. Simon rushed at the creature with Hector's knife. He stabbed the creature in the arm. All at once the creature recoiled, giving them enough room to slam the door closed. Hector bolted the door with a click.

  "Thanks," Hector told Simon, panting for breath.

  Simon nodded. The room went a decibel quieter. Outside, the groans of several other creatures echoed from the parking lot.

  "How the hell are they getting in?" Simon asked in confusion.

  "They must've slipped in before we got the gate closed," Sandy guessed, gasping. "Either that, or they found another way."

  "All the commotion probably drew all of them from the area," Simon said. "We need to get out of here before it gets worse, if they haven't overrun the place already."

  Anabel let out a frightened sob as she knelt next to Finn's body. In the frenzy of the attack, Sandy had momentarily been distracted. She looked back at her companion, but Finn had gone lifeless. His
eyes were eerily vacant, as if he'd died hours ago instead of seconds. Sandy wrung her hands, wishing there was a way to revive the lifeless young man, even though he was beyond saving. She exchanged a desperate glance with Hector.

  "I found some towels!" Marcia said, appearing from behind them a beat too late.

  She dropped them as she realized there was no bringing him back. Sandy bent down next to Finn's motionless body, a wave of guilt crashing over her. This was her fault. She'd told Finn to keep guard. But how could she have known? She wiped tears from her eyes.

  A crash drew her attention back to the door. The door shook violently as more creatures threw themselves against it. Sandy pictured the things bashing their faces and bodies apart, willing to obliterate the last remnants of their humanity to procure a meal.

  "We have to get out of here," she said.

  "Did you see how many of them were out there?" Simon asked, watching the door.

  "I'm not sure, but Reginald will be back soon," Hector said. "And then we'll have even more trouble. We should see if we can make it to the truck."

  Sandy looked between Finn and the bags of supplies across the warehouse, listening to the cries of the creatures outside. Finn's death couldn't be for nothing. They needed to get out of the lumberyard.

  "Maybe only a few got in," Simon said with a shrug.

  Sandy nodded, hoping to God he was right.

  Chapter Five

  The creatures pounded the warehouse door as Sandy, Simon, Hector, Marcia, and Anabel ran toward the office. Sandy fought the grief in her stomach. Finn shouldn't have died like that. But there was no time to mourn him now. They picked up the bags of food and water and ran into the next room, weaving around desks and chairs. When they reached the side door, they huddled next to it and regrouped.

  "The pickup is past the next building," Simon whispered. "We'll have to go through the alley, into the parking lot to get to it. We won't be able to fit by the fence in back."

  Sandy nodded, knowing that was true.

  "Here," Simon hissed, handing her something in the dark.

  Sandy reached out and felt her knife. She took it appreciatively. He handed the blades back to the others. She still didn't trust Simon, but he'd redeemed himself by saving Hector, and she didn't have time to question his loyalty.

  A few errant shrieks pierced the lumberyard, but none seemed close.

  "I'll go first," Simon whispered, opening the door and leading with his gun.

  Before anyone could respond, he snapped on his flashlight and crept into the alley. His body was little more than a silhouette as he took a few steps, casting light on the ground, giving just enough visibility to guide them. Gathering courage, Sandy and the others followed. They moved as a terrified unit, muffling the sound of the bags in their arms. Sandy snuck quietly over the gravel. The alley felt like it extended for miles, even though it was only a hundred feet.

  Reaching the end, Sandy stared into the dusty parking lot as the shrieks grew louder. Some of the creatures were inside the fence, but she guessed more were outside of it, as well. Plenty of them would come. They always did. Sandy kept her eyes on Simon's flashlight, hurrying after him.

  A creature jumped from the blackness.

  Simon cried out and raised his pistol, shooting it, sending it sprawling back into the dark. Marcia screamed as another creature emerged from the dust, latching onto Hector. Hector cried out and pushed it off, sending it tumbling to the ground. He knelt down and speared it with his knife.

  Sandy looked around frantically. Before she could catch her bearings, another creature was scrabbling for her, arms outstretched. She raised her hands, dropped her bag, and met it with her knife, fending off its snapping teeth. Panic fought with survival instinct as the world became a vicious, biting mass and the creature overtook her. She smelled the dank odor of blood, sweat, and whoever had last fallen victim to it. Sandy tried stabbing, but the thing twisted one of Sandy's fingers. She cried out and kicked it in the leg, freeing herself, leaping backwards.

  With a scream, she ran at it and sank her knife into its forehead. She pulled out the blade. The creature's eyes rolled back in its head and it fell.

  Sandy breathed and stepped back.

  "Are you okay?" Simon asked.

  "I'm fine!" Sandy hissed, collecting her bag. "Let's go!"

  They raced through the parking lot and past the next building. The windows were dark and dirt-streaked, harboring who knew what manner of danger. Hector cursed as he tripped on a pile of loose stones. Marcia and Anabel ran next to him. Sandy clutched her knife and her bag. Hisses drifted from the blackness, as if the creatures were surrounding them in all directions. It was impossible to tell how many, or where they were.

  Rounding the corner of the building, they came upon the white pickup. Simon shone the flashlight, searching for the door handle. He dug in his pocket for the keys.

  "Get in!" he yelled, as he opened the door.

  He jumped into the driver's seat while Hector and his family tumbled into the back. Sandy raced for the passenger's side. Dirty exhaust plumed into the air as Simon started the engine. The truck's interior lights illuminated his hardened face.

  "Drive!" Sandy shouted as she got in.

  Simon clutched the wheel. He reached for the shifter.

  Before he could drive, the driver's side window shattered.

  Glass sprayed the interior. Reaching hands groped for Simon. He craned his head away from the window, stomping the gas, but the truck was still in park.

  "Dammit!" he shouted.

  He grunted as the pistol was knocked from his hands. Sandy reached frantically for the shifter. She found reverse. The tires squealed as the vehicle careened backward. Sandy felt a jolt as they ran over something, and then they were backing wildly through the parking lot.

  Sandy's stomach plummeted as one of the creatures tore at the passenger's side mirror. Simon reclaimed the wheel, but not in time.

  "Look out!" Sandy screamed.

  The rear of the truck collided with one of the lumberyard buildings. Sandy's head snapped forward and she threw her arms in front of her, protecting her face. She flew back in her seat as the vehicle stopped. She sat in stunned silence while she caught her breath, listening to the moans of the oncoming creatures. Her body ached from the impact, but nothing seemed broken. At least, she didn't think so. She looked over her shoulder, surveying the people in the backseat. Everyone was fine, except Hector, who had suffered a bloody gash in his forehead.

  "Hector!" Marcia exclaimed.

  The tires spun and stopped, spun and stopped. Sandy listened to the purr of the engine and the snarls of running creatures that were quickly catching up.

  "Get out of here, Simon!" she shrieked.

  The backseat came alive as Marcia and Anabel screamed similar things. Simon hit the gas. The vehicle groaned in protest as it unglued from the building.

  The pickup flew forward.

  Several creatures emerged from the darkness, throwing their bodies at the vehicle and bouncing off the side. The headlights illuminated several snarling, vicious faces. The creatures' eyes were jet-black.

  Simon steered toward the gate, which was already open.

  The creatures had knocked it down.

  Sandy winced as a creature glanced off the front bumper. One ran straight for Simon's window, but he turned the wheel and clipped it with the front of the truck, sending the creature reeling back with a screech. They plowed through several more bodies, each one causing enough impact to convince Sandy they were going to stall or stop.

  But they didn't. They kept going.

  Soon, they were driving through the gates. And then they were away from the lumberyard, careening into the night.

  Chapter Six

  Reginald's blood raced as he gripped the steering wheel of the Buick. He stared into the dusty road as a few creatures emerged from the road's shoulder, roused by the noise of the car's engine. He could no longer see Dan's station wagon. The fucker had g
otten enough of a jump to lose him.

  "Hopefully none of those things will show up at the lumberyard," Billy said.

  "Let someone else worry about it," Reginald snarled, his eyes flitting back and forth across the road.

  He felt a shiver up his arms as the meth he'd shot up coursed through his veins. His pulse was beating so fast he could feel it behind his eyeballs. He had a stockpile in the lumberyard, several boxes he'd tucked away in one of the furthest shacks. He didn't think anyone knew about it.

  That was the first thing he'd done when the shit hit the fan.

  Get to the dealer…

  Find the stash…

  The motherfucker had already been dead, his face chewed off by one of the creatures.

  That meant the stuff was Reginald's. It hadn't gone easily, though. Several others had had the same idea as Reginald. No sooner had he discovered the dealer's hiding place than he'd been interrupted. Two people had come into the room, yelling and screaming. Reginald had pounded their faces in with the first thing he'd come across—a baseball bat. He barely remembered what they looked like, because the celebration that had ensued afterward had been enough to forget about what he'd done.

  Reginald smiled. He'd do the same thing to Dan, once he caught him.

  Anger overtook Reginald. He wanted nothing more than to find Dan and pay him back for everything he'd been through. Not only for escaping the lumberyard, but also for the things he'd done prior to the end of the world.

  It'd been a year since Reginald had been released from jail. In the past decade, he'd wasted several years of his life in a cage, all because of Dan Lowery. Dan had first arrested him in 2008 for car theft, and he'd shown him no sympathy. Neither had the judge, who had given Reginald a strict probation that he'd unwittingly violated, landing him in jail.

  To be fair, Reginald had learned a lot while in prison. He'd learned how to fight, how to steal, and how to survive a beating.