Survival Instinct: A Zombie Novel (74 page)

“What’s your name?”  He thought the man should be remembered.

“Tyler,” the man said without any stutter.  “Tyler Jacobson.”

“Good luck, Tyler,” Mathias told him.  “I hope you make it to the cabin.”

Tyler nodded and Mathias turned to keep walking.  He caught up with the others in a short amount of time.  He looked back once more and saw that Tyler was dragging the woodsman’s body toward the tree line.  Mathias didn’t know why he was doing that, but he wanted to think he was relieving those behind him of the tension that seeing the body would cause.  Heaven knew, they would be wound tighter than a clock already.  He looked even further back and saw that the delay had allowed the swarm to get even closer.  He could see several people walking along now, some in small groups like theirs.

“If we don’t find a ride soon, we’re going to need to head off into the woods.”  Mathias knew the majority of people would stick to the highway, making the forest the safer of the two options.

“Find us a ride then,” LeBlanc turned and smirked at him.

“Found one,” Bishop said it in such a nonchalant manner, Mathias assumed she must have been joking.

LeBlanc must have assumed the same thing as he also said nothing.

“No really, look over there.”  Bishop pointed up ahead.

It took a moment for Mathias to see what she was seeing, but there was indeed a car sitting a good distance ahead.  It sat off to one side, partly off the road, almost sideways.  What looked like exhaust was coming out of the tailpipe.

“Well, it may not be drivable, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out.”  Mathias picked up his pace a little, trying not to get his hopes, up but they were.

* * *

As they got closer, they could see that it was indeed running.  This meant nothing though, as the car may have just been abandoned for other reasons that made it undrivable.  The car looked familiar to Mathias and it took him a moment to figure out why.  It dawned on him that it was the same car that had flown past them earlier; the one with the bloody windshield.  It was a beat-up, little, tan Escort that looked to be at least as old as Danny.

As they approached the vehicle, they all raised their rifles and began to circle it, coming at it from different angles.  The windshield was still intact and still a bloody mess.  There were skid marks behind the car, and it didn’t appear to have hit anything, so it must have just skidded out.  The reason why the car would’ve done that worried Mathias, especially considering none of the tires looked flat.  The car was in park, which was a good sign.  It meant that whoever had been driving when they spun
out had at least half a brain left when they stopped.  The driver’s window was open and Mathias approached it slowly.  LeBlanc stood back to watch his ass while Bishop took up a post a few arm lengths away from the opposite corner of the car.

Through the window, he could see that no one sat upright in either the driver’s seat or the passenger seat.  That didn’t mean they weren’t slumped over where they couldn’t be seen, however.  Mathias stepped closer, one step at a time.  Each step allowed him to see more inside the vehicle. 
Finally, he got close enough to search the whole front interior.  There was no one inside.

Just as Mathias was beginning to feel relieved that it was safe, something wrapped around his ankle and pulled his feet out from under him.

“Fuck!”  He went down hard on his back, his rifle managing to pop out of his hands and skid away across the pavement.  One of the first things he had been taught in training was never to lose your rifle, and there it went.  Luckily, his pack broke most of his fall or else his head would probably have broken on the pavement.

From underneath the car came an eerie groan, as whatever had his ankle tried to pull him under it.

Mathias kicked out with his free foot.  His boot connected with something, and there was a crunch.  It felt and sounded like it could have been a nose.  He kicked two more times at the same location, two more crunches.  That didn’t stop or even slow the tugging on his other leg.  This time, instead of kicking, he braced his free foot against the side of the car.  He pushed against it, hoping that his other leg would come free.  The thing under the car though, had a grip like a bear trap.  He looked between his legs and saw a bloody face peering out at him, trying to bring his foot into its mouth.  Its nose was completely pulped into its face leaving a gaping nasal hole.

“Shoot the fucker!” Mathias yelled at LeBlanc.

LeBlanc had lain down in front of the car with his rifle pointed underneath it.

“I can’t.”  He stood back up.  “I can do body shots just fine but I can’t take a head shot without risking blowing off your foot with it.  Not with this gun.”

“Then pull me out!”  Mathias usually appreciated LeBlanc’s always calm nature, but not at the moment.  “Drag it out with me, then shoot it!”

“Can’t,” LeBlanc shook his head.  “The damn thing’s legs are wrapped around the axle.  It’s probably the only reason it hasn’t made it to your face yet.  It’s too stupid to let go of it.  Give me a minute and I’ll think of something.”

“It’s chewing on my boot!”  Mathias would rather something be done now than a minute from now.

“You boys want to shut up so I can concentrate?” Bishop spoke up.

Mathias looked over and saw that she was lying on the ground at the rear of the car, her rifle pointed underneath it.

“Hey now, I like my foot.”  Mathias did not feel any better about the situation.

“LeBlanc, move away so that I don’t risk the bullet passing through it and into you,” Bishop sounded as calm as LeBlanc.

Why was Mathias the only one panicking?  Right, because he was the one about to loose his foot to either a zombie or a rifle shot.

“When I tell you to hold, you hold as still as you can, okay, Cole?” Bishop was using what was probably her clinical voice.

“Fuck me,” Mathias muttered.  He regretted wanting that side of her to come back.

“Okay, Mathias?” Bishop spoke harsher.

The fact that she used his first name didn’t go unnoticed by him.  “Okay.”

There was a moment of silence.  Well, almost silent, the zombie still made slobbery chewy noises.

“Hold!” Bishop shouted.

Mathias froze, and the rifle went off.  Most of the sound echoed under the car making it louder than it should have been.  It hurt Mathias’s ears to be that close.  He had squeezed his eyes shut on instinct.  When he opened them, he expected the zombie still to be chewing, but it wasn’t.  Then he expected to feel a great pain in his foot, but there wasn’t any of that, either.

LeBlanc grabbed his arms and pulled him backward.  He slid easily enough although the one leg felt heavier than the other.  The zombie was dragged out with him, still latched onto his boot with its mouth.  Its legs had apparently let go of the axle.  LeBlanc punted it in the head, knocking it off of Mathias’s leg.  Before that, Mathias saw where the bullet had gone.  It had entered the zombie’s skull and exited it again in a straight line.  A straight line that had passed mere centimetres above where his toes had been.  Mathias wiggled his toes in his boot to make sure they were all accounted for, then he scrambled up to his feet.

“You could’ve shot me.”  Mathias didn’t know whether to be extremely grateful, or extremely pissed.

“But I didn’t.”  Bishop shouldered her rifle once more, irritated by either his accusation or lack of confidence.  Or both.

“Whatever, no point in arguing about it, what’s done is done.”  LeBlanc got between them before anything could even think about starting up.  “Let’s just get rolling.”

Mathias went to pick up his fallen rifle while LeBlanc went to open the back door.

“Fuck!”  LeBlanc stumbled back a quick three steps, raising his gun into a firing position.  He didn’t squeeze off a shot, though.

Mathias quickly ran to his side, his own rifle at the ready.  He lowered it when he saw inside the car.  The whole back seat was covered in a bloody mess.  A woman lay across it, her bright blue eyes shining out of a red mask.  She was reaching toward them, her mouth moving.  Mathias took a step closer, so as not to miss when he fired.

“Help,” the woman gasped out weakly.

Mathias was stunned.  She wasn’t a zombie.  She was still alive.  She had wounds all over her body and was surely bleeding to death, but she wasn’t a zombie yet.  Mathias didn’t know what to do.

Bishop stepped forward then, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.  She grabbed the woman’s shoulders and dragged her out onto the pavement.  The woman gasped in pain, but it was very weak.  She was fading.

“Please,” she managed to get out.

Mathias was barely close enough to hear her, so he crouched down beside her.  Bishop crouched on her other side, carefully looking over her wounds.

“Kill me,” she whispered.  The woman tried to raise her hand toward Mathias, but was too weak to get it any higher than her own hip.

Mathias looked across her body to Bishop.

“She’s too badly injured for me to do anything,” Bishop answered his unasked question.  “Even in a fully stocked hospital, survival would be extremely slim.  She’s lost too much blood and is very badly injured.”

Mathias looked down at the ruined woman again.  Her mouth moved to speak, but this time, nothing came out.  Mathias thought she was trying to say please again.

“Okay,” Mathias nodded to her.  She must have been in extreme pain.  She probably also knew what she would become.

The woman nodded, the barest of movements.

Mathias stood up and took out his pistol.  Bishop walked away, snapping off her gloves and tossing them on the road.  LeBlanc stayed to watch but made no move to do it himself.

“It’ll be painless,” Mathias spoke to the unknown woman.  “And it’ll be quick.  I’m sorry this happened to you.”  He meant every word.

When he pulled the trigger, the light went out of her eyes as a clean hole appeared in her forehead.  Mathias would never forget her bright eyes.  He stood there, looking down at her, for at least a minute until LeBlanc put a hand on his shoulder.

“I think the still-living need some help, too,” LeBlanc said to him, directing his attention to Bishop.

She was kneeling on the highway’s shoulder, her shoulders shaking.  Mathias holstered his pistol, walked over to her, and knelt down beside her.  She wasn’t crying, but her chest and breath kept hitching as her body threatened to bring forth tears.  Mathias had no idea what to say, so he just sat next to her silently and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  Eventually, she got herself under control and turned to him.

“Thank you,” she said and got to her feet.

Mathias didn’t know what he did, but accepted it and got up himself.  They gathered with LeBlanc on the other side of the car so that they didn’t have to see the woman.

“Would you be able to do that for me if the time came?” LeBlanc asked out of the blue.

“What?  Shoot you?” Mathias frowned.

“If I were infected and dying,” LeBlanc nodded.  “Could you do it?  Place a bullet in my brain?”

“I don’t know,” Mathias shrugged.  “Why do you ask?”

“Just an insurance policy,” LeBlanc shrugged back.  “I don’t want to become one of the walking dead if I can help it.”

“We can’t take this car,” Bishop sighed looking at the backseat.  “If anyone sits on that seat, they’ll be at serious risk for exposure.”

“That’s why you’re riding bitch,” LeBlanc said to her.

Bishop frowned at this, insulted.  “What?”

“It’s simple,” LeBlanc explained.  “I’m going to drive, and you’re going to sit on Matty’s lap in the passenger seat.”  He grinned broadly.

“What?”  This time Mathias wheeled on him.  Not only did he find the idea absurd and surprising, but did he just call him Matty?

“I am not sitting on his lap.”  Bishop crossed her arms and sounded almost disgusted.

“Don’t think I’m totally pleased with the idea.”  Mathias was actually kind of offended by her tone.  Did she really think he was that repulsive?

“Seriously now.”  LeBlanc held up his hands the same way he did when he talked to Tyler.  “It’s either that or walking.  Or you could sit on
my
lap.”  LeBlanc made suggestive faces at Bishop.

“Why don’t
you
sit on his lap?”  Now Bishop really was disgusted.

“I would, but I think things might get a little too hot and heavy for you to keep driving.”  LeBlanc was clearly joking, but it still took Bishop aback.

“Seriously, dude?” Mathias looked at his friend.  “If you tried anything, I
would
put a bullet in your head.”

“Good to know.”  LeBlanc started walking around to the driver’s door.  “Now I’m going to get into the car.  If either of you would like to join me, you’re welcome to do so.”

Bishop and Mathias watched as LeBlanc got into the car and shut the door behind him.

“What do you think?”  Mathias turned to Bishop.  “Think we can get along long enough to find a better ride?”

“If we don’t, just remember that I know where you’re wounded.”  Bishop shoved on his chest where the bullet had hit him.  Again.