Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 1): Nicole's Odyssey (3 page)

She doubted her father believed in such things as a soul.  Her mind wandered. 

What if he’s right?  Is the only difference between the living and the dead the stench and lack of speech? 
She continued to study her features. 
I may have dad’s eyes, but everything else is mom’s. 

Sandra Bennett was a beautiful woman.  She was known and loved by her friends for her gracious generosity and quiet dignity.  Nicole was her mother’s daughter.  The qualities of beauty and generosity that she inherited made it easy for Nicole to find friends and meet guys.  Her college years called into doubt whether quiet dignity was a trait passed on.  Nicole was also known for being a partier around campus.  She had many boyfriends but no lovers.  Guys who only wanted one thing, called her a tease sometimes but it did not bother her.  Most of them were probably shufflers now and that would be an improvement.  She smiled at the thought.  That smile was her mother’s too and Nicole recognized it immediately.

 Her thoughts returned again to her mother and a tightness formed in her chest.  She bit down hard, fighting back her emotions. 

She stood straight and breathed a heavy sigh, “Shower definitely needed,” she said. 

Going into the bathroom, she tested the water again.  It was getting warmer, but not yet hot.  She stepped out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed.  Nicole kicked off her cross-trainers and lay on her back.   

 
Just a minute while the water gets hot
she told herself as she drifted off to sleep, the steam from the running water wafting out of the bathroom and fogging up the mirror.

☣
 

Nicole was in her clinic.  She wrapped a golden retriever's front paw in a bandage while a woman smiled and lovingly stroked the dog's head. 

BAM!

The sound reverberated around Nicole and made her jump.  She looked down at the retriever and then to the woman.  Neither one seemed to have heard the noise.  Nicole finished bandaging the retriever’s paw and the woman scooped up her dog, smiling at the prospect of injuries healed and years of companionship ahead.  A little boy holding a cat came into the office next.  The cat sneezed and the little boy looked concerned. 

“Just a cold,” she said as she stroked the cat's chin and administered a shot.

BAM!

Nicole jumped, but the cat remained still and the little boy did not act like he noticed.  She smiled and the little boy scooped up his cat and left.  Nicole slowly turned and the clinic dissolved into a courtroom.  She looked up at the judge’s bench looming over her and saw her father sitting there in his dress uniform.  Holding a gavel in his right hand, he brought it down hard. 

BAM!
 

Nicole flinched.  “
Why is my father here?”
she thought as she approached the bench.  He glared at her and brought the gavel down. 

BAM!

She was about to speak, but was cut short by three more strikes from the gavel. 

BAM!

BAM! 

BAM!
 

On the third strike, Nicole's eyes flew open.  She stared at the ceiling of her room in the Friendly’s Motor Inn.  Her eyes focused on a water stain long dried.  Her mind worked the pattern of the stain into an image. 

“Huh, looks like Jesus… or Willie Nelson…”  Her words trailed off as she drifted back to sleep.  Just a few more minutes and then she would go, she thought. 

BAM!
 

Nicole's eyes flew open a second time and she sat bolt upright.  She looked over at the large window to her right. Thick curtains blocked the light, keeping the room in shadowy darkness. She kept her eyes fixed on the curtains as she eased herself off the bed.  With trepidation, she reached out and slowly slid them open.  Something was still blocking the light. She shoved the curtains wide then froze.  Pressed against the glass were seven wet, oozing Dead.  Their faces smeared blood and gore across the glass. Nicole began to shake, her lower jaw quivered uncontrollably.   She screamed and the Dead, who seemed to be searching for her, locked their eyes on her.  They moaned and pounded the glass. Nicole could not look away but was forced to as something beyond the Dead caught her attention.  It grew larger.  She screamed again as the runner came at her.  It slammed into the only remaining spot at the window. 

BAM! 

It hit with such force that the decaying flesh on its face burst.  Blood and gore spattered the glass.  A new sound emerged under the groans of the Dead; a crack began to spread across the window.  Nicole backpedaled and her legs hit the bed.   She tumbled head over heels, collapsing in a heap between the bed and the wall. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she held them tight as she rocked. 

THWACK! 

Nicole jumped at the sound, which sounded wetter to her.  She felt wetness; it seeped into her jeans as she sat on the floor.  She screamed and tried to brush away the viscera she knew now covered her.  Kicking and screaming, she fell to the floor by the bathroom door.  Only then did she notice that the shower was still running.  It had filled the tub and flooded the floor.  Now lying on her back, cold water seeped into her shirt.  “Water,” she said.  Nicole’s relief was short lived as she looked at the window and saw that another of the runners had slammed into it.  With no space left, the runner crashed into the bodies of the others.  Nicole scurried back and huddled between the bed and the wall.  Panic seized her and she clutched at the blanket on the bed and began to cry.  The Dead clawed and pressed the glass, sensing their meal just feet away.  Sanity all but left Nicole as she buried her face in the bed, her screams muffled by the blankets and pillows.  As she felt the blankets against her face, Nicole’s tears began to ebb and she raised her head.

Outside her room, the Dead continued their clamoring vigil.  Those pressed against the glass slammed it with their heads and clawed at it with their hands.  The more recent arrivals pressed against them.  Occasionally they would stumble backwards, only to slam their bodies back into the group.  This resulted in the ones against the glass being slowly crushed.  Bodily fluids, blood and gore coated the window, yet still they clamored.  The glass, already weakened by cracks from the continual pressure, began to give way.  The motel room door flew open and a form darted out.  Nicole, covered in the blankets, ran to her car.  The Dead caught her scent in an instant and were on her.  Hands reached out and tugged at her.  Teeth clamped down on the blankets.  Nicole fell under their weight and disappeared.  The Dead tore and ripped at the blankets in an effort to consume.  Nicole struggled under their relentless onslaught as she crawled along the ground and out of the blankets.  The Dead tore the blankets to pieces then went to work on the thick pillows that she had put on her back.  Nicole jumped up and ran to her car.  She grabbed at the door handle but her hands would not work.  Her fingers floundered as the Dead discovered their meal was still feet away.  Casting aside the shredded blankets, they turned and advanced on her.  Nicole turned and watched them.  Her hands dropped to her side in blind fear and resignation to what was about to occur.  As they reached out for her, suddenly a single harsh and commanding voice screamed in Nicole’s mind.

“
Focus or die!” 

She spun around and her hand grabbed the door handle and pulled.  The door swung open and she dived inside.  Scrambling, she pulled the door closed as the wave of the Dead crashed into the driver side window.  Nicole slammed the lock down on the driver side door then did the same on the passenger side, just as a second group piled against it.  She shoved her keys into the ignition as one of the Dead on the passenger side bashed its head against the window. Shattered glass filled the seat and three pairs of hands reached for her as the engine sprang to life. Dropping it into drive, Nicole mashed the gas.  The little Cavalier sped away as those in the window were dragged along.  She made a hard left turn out of the parking lot and onto the road, scattering her hungry passengers in a wet mess behind her.

Four

In the town of Wheeling, West Virginia, Nicole Bennett’s Chevy Cavalier had given out.  She figured it was a buyer’s market and set out to find a suitable replacement.  Her quest brought her to the doors of Pinnelli’s.  Alfonse Pinelli had prided himself on having the finest array of foreign sports cars in the Southeast.  His unsold inventory sat in his immaculate showroom just waiting for those with the taste for the finer things and the means to acquire them to come along.

Had he ever met Nicole, Alfonse would not have pegged her as a person with the taste for the finer things, or someone with the means to acquire them.  He would have been right on both counts.  For her part, had she ever met Alfonse Pinelli, Nicole would not have pegged Alfonse as anything but a pompous ass and a douche bag.  She too would have been right on both counts.  Regardless, in the showroom of Pinnelli’s she stood. In one hand, she held the keys to a 2013 Ferrari F12 Berlinetta.  In the other hand, she held a brochure.  The brochure stated that it was a 730 horsepower V-12, and to date was the fastest Ferrari ever built.  Under different circumstances, Nicole would not be caught dead in a car like this.  This was a car for douche bags like Alfonse Pinelli.  Nicole figured she may be many things, but a douche bag was not one of them.  Nevertheless, she wanted fast.  She had somewhere to be and faster was definitely better.

She tossed the brochure over her shoulder and pulled open the door on the Berlinetta.  She was about to climb in when, looking up she saw another dealership across the street.  Over there, the cars were not sheltered in a climate-controlled showroom.  They sat in a lot in the open air for anybody and everybody to see.  What Nicole saw made her doubt almost immediately that her first choice in transportation was the correct one.  She dropped the keys to the Berlinetta where she stood, and exited Pinelli’s.

Pete “Petey” Maxwell sold heavy metal.  He prided himself on dealing in American steal that could propel you down the road at a furious pace, in a cloud of smoke and a strong scent of burning rubber.  At six feet, three inches, Pete Maxwell was an imposing man, until he smiled.  He had spent his early years as a semi-professional boxer.  He never got his shot, but came darn close on more than one occasion.  He retired and sank his savings into his second love, vintage muscle cars.  Though he had been out of the ring for a long time, he was still more hardened muscle than fat.  Had Nicole ever met Petey, she would have found his open good nature immediately likable.  For his part, Petey would have thought Nicole, “Nickel” to her friends and she would have told him that, was pretty cool too.

In 1967, Pontiac made some changes to the GTO.  A Rochester four-barrel carburetor was added.  The engine got a wider cylinder bore of 400 cubic inches and came in three models, economy, standard, and the one that had drawn Nicole’s attention, high output.  Nicole ran her hands along the body of the car and stood in front staring at it, its Cherry-Red paint job gleaming in the afternoon sun.  The car, for those who believe such things are possible, stared back at Nicole and spoke to her mind. 

“
What’s your name, girl?
”  Whether Nicole actually heard this was not something she would ever articulate, but she answered all the same. 

“My name’s Nicole Bennett, friends call me Nickel.” 

The car stared back and said, “
The keys are inside, Nickel.  Let’s get the hell out of here.
” 

Nicole nodded.  “Hell yeah,” she said.  Ninety seconds later all that was left of Nicole and the car was that cloud of smoke and scent of burning rubber that had made Pete “Petey” Maxwell so proud.

Five

It was the job that kept him going.  That was it.  For the past twenty-seven miles, Nicole was trying to remember what kept Martin Riggs going in the movie Lethal Weapon.  The Job.  That was the thin line that kept him from the barrel in the mouth.  Nicole didn’t think she was the type of person who would  ever commit suicide, but back at Friendly’s she had to admit she almost did a pretty good impression of someone who could.  Some part of her, a part that maybe she did not know existed, had not allowed that to happen.  She told herself that maybe she too had a reason to keep going, that the reason was every bit as flimsy as Martin Rigg’s did nothing to encourage her.  What kept her going was the promise of safety, but that is where the incentive ended.  Her father would be there, and while on some level he might be happy to see her, she doubted it would result in even a physical embrace, let alone doing anything to bridge the gulf between them.  She would be safe, but then what?  She would get to witness first hand Col. Steven Barrett at his finest, executing the mission, determining acceptable losses, and being as distant as he ever was.  Nicole looked out across the empty landscape as it whizzed by at ninety-five miles per hour.  She imagined that was how her life was going to be from here on in, whizzing by and full of emptiness. 

Turning her attention back to the road, she saw a sign up ahead.  Fair Valley City Limits.  She crested a rise and slowed the GTO.  In the distance was a building.  Fair Valley Home Improvement Super-center was emblazoned high atop a pole close to the road.  Bringing the GTO to a stop, Nicole gazed through the windshield.  The store sat on the outskirts of town, a lone structure on a vast expanse of open land.  She stared down at it, looking for any signs of the living or...