Bloody Sunrise: A Zombie Apocalypse Romance Page 3

“What?”

  “A whole group of those zombies are coming this way,” Hannah explained, getting Caitlin to her feet. “There’s gotta be a hundred of them. Come on.”

  The house had erupted into chaos. People were running, yelling for each other—orders and directions as to who should go where. She could only catch snippets.

  “… Don’t have enough guns…”

  “… The street is blocked, what do we…”

  “…Keep calm, head upstairs…”

  Caitlin whipped her head around, trying to tell them not to go upstairs, they’ll get themselves trapped, but Hannah was hauling her through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “Hannah, I can help—”

  Hannah shook her head. “Honey, you’re still too hurt,” she said. “Jeremy told me to get you somewhere safe while we figure this all out.”

  “Where…” Caitlin was too dizzy from the painkillers, too rattled by the terror flooding her system, to understand where Hannah was taking her until the door swung open and she was being led down a small flight of stairs.

  “It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable for a while,” Hannah told her, pulling a chain and turning on a light. “But it won’t be for long. At least you’ll be out of harm’s way.”

  “But, Hannah…”

  “It’s okay,” she told her, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

  The fear in Hannah’s eyes told a different story.

  Leading Caitlin to a crate, she helped her sit, and made sure she was steady before turning back towards the stairs.

  “Hannah, what about Josh? The others?”

  She was running up the staircase as she called, “They’re okay, they’re upstairs in the bedroom.”

  “No, Hannah, that’s—”

  The door slammed shut, cutting her off.

  Minutes later the first gunshots rang out.

  Glass shattered somewhere above her, and someone screamed.

  More gun fire.

  The heavy footsteps of a mob trampling through the living room.

  The screaming didn’t stop.

  In a panic, Caitlin searched the dimly lit basement for something to wedge under the doorknob, settling for a broken shelf painted with little toy cars.

  Josh’s.

  It was agony, but she carried the shelf up the few stairs and lodged it securely. All while sounds of carnage clawed at her ear drums.

  Inhuman groans and snarls. People screaming as they were being attacked. Useless gunshots that could never bring down a herd that large.

  Something hit the basement door and she covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. As silently as she could, she went back down the stairs and cowered in the corner, wrapping her arms around herself tightly.

  All she could do was wait. Wait and listen, as people she’d begun to truly care for were torn apart.

  Eventually, the screaming stopped.

  But the other noises… lumbering gaits, scuffling along hardwood, wet smacking… It all painted a horrific picture Caitlin didn’t know how to accept.

  They’d been okay. They were going to get to safety in just a few days. They’d made plans, started gathering up things they needed…

  She covered her mouth and cried.

  Josh had just told her he wanted to read her another comic he liked— a superhero one she’d never heard of. They were going to read it outside, on the porch, in the sunshine.

  Her sobs wracked her broken ribcage, but she stayed silent.

  Hannah… Jeremy… Jessica… Hal… Carl… Everyone…

  Maybe some of them escaped, she thought, staring at the halo of light on the floor cast by the light bulb. Maybe they’d managed to get to one of the SUVs. Maybe…

  Something dripped onto the concrete a few feet in front of her. Viscous and red…

  Blood was seeping between the floorboards over her head.

  Her tears stopped as she went ice cold. Pulling her knees to her chest, ignoring the burn in her sides, she watched in a catatonic daze as the small droplets became a small puddle, and then a pool of blood.

  The monsters above continued to feast.

  ***

  Time didn’t feel like a tangible thing anymore. She didn’t know if it was day or night. If she’d been there for hours or days. Weeks? Had she died without realizing it?

  Did ghosts haunt a broken world?

  The first clue that maybe she’d survived was the pain in her legs and ribcage.

  She had to stretch out, rub the soreness from her joints.

  Ghosts didn’t feel pain, did they?

  When her bladder begged for relief, she took that as another sign of life.

  Afterwards, she paced quietly, staring up at the barricaded door. The sounds of Geeks moving about in the house had long since faded, but she couldn’t bring herself to go up there.

  She was in the basement of a death house now.

  Something rattled in her pocket and Caitlin fished out the bottle she’d forgotten she’d tucked away.

  A handful remained. Enough to keep her comfortable for a few more days.

  Or enough to put her to sleep permanently.

  With trembling hands, she placed the bottle on a nearby tool rack and backed away. She never dropped her gaze, even as she lowered herself to the ground again.

  A decision to be made, she figured. But not right now. Not yet.

  Leaning back, she pressed the back of her head to the cold cinderblock and closed her eyes.

  ***

  The few cans of food she’d found with pop tops lasted her several days. She didn’t want to eat much to begin with, and the cold beans and Spam didn’t entice her appetite any.

  The pool of blood had congealed and was starting to smell, putting her off even more.

  Every time she took a bite, she stared at the pill bottle.

  Life or death.

  Survive or let go.

  The plane crash. The gas station Geek. The broken ribs taped up by a nurse who was now rotting upstairs somewhere.

  What was left for her? Where did she go from here?

  It wasn’t the first time she’d thought those things, only her past hadn’t included things like a zombie virus and apocalyptic conditions. No, her past had been brutal and not at all unique.

  Divorced parents. An abusive stepfather. Years of therapy. Jagged wounds barely hidden by her over-achieving tendencies and intimacy issues.

  The world she’d learned to traverse before was nothing like the world she faced now.

  She stared the pill bottle down like a challenge.

  She’d decide what to do in the morning.

  ***

  Caitlin woke up with a raw throat that burned like she’d been screaming in her sleep.

  Maybe she had been.

  But at least she’d made up her mind.

  Snatching the pill bottle off the shelf, she tucked it into her pocket and dragged herself up the stairs. Pushing the barricade out of the way, she took several deep breaths before covering her nose and mouth and opening the door.

  Flies buzzed all around, and the stench made her eyes water.

  She couldn’t look away though. She wouldn’t hide from the horror they endured.

  Some of the bodies she recognized. Jessica… Hal…

  Some were too decomposed. Some were barely bodies at all, so gnawed on they were little more than bones and greasy sinew.

  As she walked through the kitchen, she spotted Carl’s tattered ball cap dropped on the floor. None of the bodies near it looked like him though.

  She kicked a few game board pieces as she entered the living room and her heart sank into her hollow gut. If the children had survived, she would have heard them.

  The comic Josh had left out for her was now torn and scattered in a gelatinous pool of blood and fluid.

  She was standing in a graveyard.

  Forward, she thought. Keep going. Survive.

  On numb legs, she wandered into the laundry room, finding the clothes Hannah had was
hed for her. She took a few extra pairs of socks and clean underwear in her size and stuffed them into a plastic grocery bag. It would be the only thing she took from the home that had sheltered her. From the family that had taken her in and perished.

  Walking back into the living room, she forced herself to look at each remaining body. They’d been kind, generous with her when she had nothing, and she’d been unable to protect them. The least she could do was honor the tragedy of their deaths.

  Checking that the street was empty, she opened the door that barely hung on its hinges and left.

  ***

  One of the houses a street over was safe and out of the way and untouched by the numbers of Geeks that had trampled through.

  There Caitlin found a large backpack, and enough supplies to last her for a while. Food, bottles of water, aspirin for the pain. She kept the prescription bottle but didn’t plan on using it unless absolutely necessary. She was heading out into unknown territory and needed to be sharp. She couldn’t afford to be doped up and loopy now.

  Packing everything she could find, she tested the weight of her bag and decided it was just light enough not to hurt her too much. Caitlin didn’t know how long broken ribs took to heal, but her chest didn’t scream with agony every time she moved, so she guessed she was improving.

  Going into the kitchen, she found a steak knife she could easily tuck into the side pocket of her backpack and drank a full bottle of water before heading for the door.

  She only had one plan now—Get away from Atlanta, get out of Georgia, find her way back to New York.

  Keep going.

  Survive.

  Survive for those who didn’t.

  Chapter Four

  Three Weeks Later

  The small Alabamian town Caitlin was slowly trekking through had proven to be a bit of a gold mine. Plenty of abandoned cars to scavenge, and the Geek population was thinner than the previous city she’d accidentally wandered into.

  She thought she’d have gotten better with directions by now, but when things weren’t laid out on a grid, she was hopeless.

  The neighborhood wasn’t too large, and the street she turned down looked deserted. She watched for Geeks but, in her experience, they didn’t tend to stick around in places without a food source. They wanted two things—food, and a larger herd to join. The reptile brain hive mind was a scary thing to witness in motion.

  Spotting a red sedan parked in front of a moderately sized ranch house, she decided it would be a good start.

  But first, nature called.

  Stopping at the back wheel of the car, she searched through her pack to find the roll of toilet paper she carried and beelined for the shrubs nearby.

  Peeing outside was still something she was getting used to. It wasn’t exactly comfortable to start with, but add in the constant threat of a Geek attack on top of the already present wildlife, and Caitlin was less than thrilled every time she had to relieve herself.

  Yanking her jeans down, she squatted, and caught herself on a branch when she lost her balance. She paused a moment, waiting for an animal to run out. When nothing happened, she sighed and sank down.

  Footsteps. Steady, even… Not shuffling like a Geek, but…

  “Hey!”

  A human. A man.

  Shit.

  Caitlin didn’t move.

  “Hey, you!” The man yelled. “Get out from there right now!”

  The distinct sounds of gunmetal clicking made her breath stall in her throat.

  “Stand up!”

  Caitlin lifted her arms, toilet paper roll still gripped in her right hand. As she tried not to trip herself on the uneven ground and her jeans around her ankles, she let out an undignified squeak. Panicked, she stood, not even bothering with pulling up her jeans. She hoped the bushes would cover her.

  Caitlin saw the rifle first, barrel aimed for her chest.

  Blinking, she took in the six-foot-tall man holding it.

  His face was obscured by the gun and the glare from the noonday sun, but she could still see he was built as thick and sturdy as an oak, no tremor in his hands.

  He wasn’t a man afraid to use his weapon.

  Moments passed, but he didn’t move to shoot. Didn’t even tap the trigger. He only stared at her over the length of the barrel, dark eyes unwavering.

  Annoyance Caitlin hadn’t allowed herself to indulge in this new world rushed to the surface.

  “Well?” She shouted. “You gonna shoot me, or can I finish?”

  The man started to lower the gun, a week’s worth of dark stubble evident now.

  “Yeah, g’head,” he called, chuckling.

  She didn’t hesitate. Dropping back down behind the bush, Caitlin was never more relieved to pee in her life.

  When she was done, she yanked her pants back up and walked out from behind the bushes. The guy was leaning against the sedan she’d been about to scavenge.

  “You always go around aiming guns at people trying to take a piss?”

  He laughed which only irritated her more.

  “Thought you were a groaner,” he said, watching her approach.

  “A what?”

  “Y’know…” He gestured vaguely. “A zombie.”

  “Geeks.”

  “Huh?”

  She slowed about two feet from him. “I’ve been calling them Geeks. That’s what the first group I was with called them.”

  “First group, huh?”

  Caitlin nodded, refusing to elaborate. This stranger wasn’t vetted enough to learn her grief.

  “Well thanks for scaring me into flashing you, but—”

  “Nah, I didn’t see nothin’,” he said, thick twang a little jarring for her. She hadn’t seen a normal person in weeks, let alone talked to one.

  Caitlin stooped to pick up her bag. “Sure, tell that to those red ears of yours.”

  “That’s just sunburn,” he told her.

  She started to brush passed him, ready to carry on her original plan of pilfering anything useful from the neighborhood cars, when he turned and took up stride alongside her.

  “You got a name?”

  She eyed him. “Well I wasn’t called ‘hey you’ my whole life.”

  The guy waited, staring at her, but she didn’t give in.

  “Alright, lemme try it another way,” he said. “I’m Jack. Jack Booker.”

  “Sounds like a video game character,” she muttered, reaching in her bag for the bent wire hanger she’d been using to jimmy open locks.

  “Yep, heard that one before.” He leaned against the back door of the car, swinging the rifle over his shoulder by the strap. “And you are…?”

  She paused, glancing over at him again. “Caitlin. Meadows.”

  “Nice t’meet you, Meadows.”

  Caitlin mumbled some sort of response, focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the wire in between the window seal, she started wiggling it around.

  “Been doin’ this a while?” He asked, watching her.

  “You mean was I a car thief before the world went to shit? No. I figured it out.”

  He made an impressed noise at the back of his throat. “Smart.”

  “4.0 GPA, graduated top of my class at Columbia, became the youngest account lead at my firm, and none of that means squat now.”

  His brows lifted, and he nodded, a mix of surprise and agreement flickering across his face.

  “Columbia. You still live in New York?”

  “Yep.” She stalled, eyes darting to him. “Well. I guess. I did.”

  “How the hell d’you end up here?”

  She sighed. “You always ask this many questions?”

  “Not every day you find an ornery woman in the bushes in bum-fuck Alabama.”

  “Well forgive me if I’m not chatty Cathy with a white guy holding a gun.”

  “Safety’s on.” He paused and then tilted his head. “Point taken though.”

  The lock popped on the door and she quietly celebrated. “Look, it
was sorta nice to meet you Jack Booker from Alabama—”

  “Not from Alabama.”

  “Whatever.”

  “From Dallas.”

  “Okay, nice to meet you Jack Booker from Dallas, but I’ve got stuff to do and I gotta find my friends, so…”

  “Your friends close?”

  She leaned on the open car door. “No.”

  Caitlin silently chastised herself for admitting to being all alone.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think you were from here.” He grinned at her and she glared up at him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Your accent is Northern, you’re wearing skinny jeans and diamond studs in your ears, and you’re ruder than a hen on layin’ day.”

  She smirked, and it was sharper than any blade. “Well aren’t you a charmer.”

  “Just sayin’.”

  “And for your information, I was wearing these studs and jeans when I flew into Atlanta so—”

  “Atlanta?” He eyed her again. “How’d you get out?”

  Caitlin tried to come up with a lie, but nothing was coming to her, so she admitted the truth. Something this guy seemed to pull out of her effortlessly.

  “I guess I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, dropping her bag near the open car door. “I was heading to San Francisco for work. My connecting flight was out of Atlanta. Twenty minutes after take-off, we… We crashed.”

  “Got shot down.”

  She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah. Found that out later.”

  He was quiet for a moment before saying, “Sounds like you got a guardian angel lookin’ after you.”

  Caitlin didn’t respond. Just shrugged and bent over to crawl into the car, searching for anything of use. So far, she’d only found half-melted gum and a McDonald’s to-go cup.

  “So, you’re headin’ back north then?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  She heard him shift his weight, the butt of the rifle tapping the door by accident.

  “Just thinkin’ there’s safety in numbers… Maybe, uh…”

  Tilting her head to look at him through the window, she said, “You sound like you’re asking me on a date.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

  “Look, I appreciate the offer, but…”

  Just then she straightened to look in the backseat and saw movement around the corner of the house. Geeks, at least four of them, shuffling towards them.