The Orphans Series Vol. 1: The Orphans (32 page)

             
This entire day seemed like one giant nightmare. People were dying and coming back from the dead to eat living flesh. The cure he'd worked so hard on for all these months had turned into an epidemic.

             
They heard a scream from outside the door. Lennon yelled, "You going to be able to handle this, Frank!?"

             
Frank pushed through the door back to the hallway, seeing what he knew would be only the beginning. He held up the pistol, aiming steady, and squeezed the trigger one time. The shot went into the back of the creature's skull. The nurse was quivering on the floor, bleeding out and coughing up blood, spewing it from her lips. Lennon took a long look at her, thinking about his fate and contemplating taking his own life to save someone else the trouble later. He still had hope, no matter small, that maybe it wasn't going to spread like Dr. Fox had mentioned. Giving up wasn't in his nature and he wouldn't start quitting now, on what could be his last day on Earth. He walked by the nurse and pulled the trigger once.

             
They made their way down the hall not worrying about scaring anyone at this point. They walked quickly keeping their pistols in front of them. Waiting and ready for something ... for anything to pop out at them from anywhere. Lennon hit the elevator button to go down, but Frank shook his head. "We don't want elevators. We're going to want as much notice as we can get here."

             
Lennon nodded, thinking about the mob of creatures which had run after him, and thinking, if he'd been in an elevator coming from a different floor, how he would have been a dead man. "You know what? That's actually a pretty good thought."

             
They pushed through the doors and made their way down the stairwell. On each floor, they could hear growling and tearing from the other side of the door. They got to the ground floor, unsure what the best thing to do would be.

             
Frank noticed Lennon and pointed at his face. "You're bleeding."

             
Lennon wiped the light trickle of blood away from his face and closed his eyes for a moment. "Promise me, Frank! Promise me, God damn it!"

             
"Don't worry. You can consider it done."

             
Lennon smiled. "Well, at least you didn't have to think about it. Are you ready? The ground floor could be crawling with these damn things!"              

             
"Yeah, let's go. I need the best of you while we still have it." Frank kicked the door open and as he did a flood of men and women started pouring through the open door. All that could be seen were torn open creatures running into the stairwell. Frank put his gun up and expertly picked them off as quickly as he could put one in his sights.

             
Lennon did the same taking out two--ten--fifteen.... The bodies were stacking up on each other and the Turned were unable to make their way through the mess of corpses below them. Frank dropped his first clip and racked in a second one, trying to make good use of his bullets. Lennon was a killing machine taking out two at a time. His high caliber bullets were absolutely unforgiving at close range.

             
The onslaught had died down. They walked over the group looking at what they had done. Both were wishing for more bullets. Frank poked his head out of the doorway and peered around. He saw a few of them preoccupied with someone already, and he signaled for Lennon to follow him. Frank could see his eyes were looking worse. He remembered his promise to Lennon and knew if he still had bullets, he would ensure he would get one of them delivered to the skull.

             
They made their way quickly down the hall trying their best to get to the front entrance. Frank wanted desperately to try and contact Shaun, but now was not the time to stop. He looked behind him at Lennon following in close pursuit. Frank ran quickly past the doorway hearing a grunt. He looked back and saw a bloody pair of hands reach out and pull Lennon off his feet. Frank stopped and ran back for the doorway, squinting, trying to see inside. His eyes adjusted and saw what he didn't want to see.

             
There were five of them all pulling on Lennon who was on the floor, screaming. "Frank! Frank! Help me, Frank! Help me!" Frank fired at each of the Turned. All of them fell to the side, no longer a threat.

             
They pushed their way out not bothering with any of the monsters who were busy feasting on a victim. Freedom was their goal and it was close enough to achieve. Once they made it to the parking lot, there were few of the monsters here, but Frank could see there was a very strong chance it would grow by leaps and bounds. He helped a tiring Lennon into the back of the squad car and took the driver seat, securing a little distance and a metal cage between them. He wanted all the protection he could from Lennon when he finally turned.

             
Frank started the engine and pumped the gas pedal. He looked around the hospital parking lot, losing any hope there would be a chance to contain this outbreak unless an army showed up. It wasn't just hospital staff ... there were civilians running for their lives, some who'd been bitten and were fleeing by car or foot as quickly as they could. The people who had already turned ran for everything they were worth until they found something that fit what they wanted ... something living to devour.

             
Frank quickly shifted his attention to one thing in particular. He slammed the gear selector into drive and punched the gas, fishtailing the car whose wheels were attempting to keep up with the powerful engine.

             
Lennon yelled from the back seat, "What the hell are you doing, Fox!? These things can't drive, right? We can beat them back to Adel with no worries. Take it easy driving so we don't get in a damn crash!" He clenched the seat with one hand and grabbed the overhead door handle with the other, white-knuckling both of them. He focused on what was outside making Frank drive like such a mad man. In front of them was a woman clutching a screaming, blonde-haired little girl. The young mother was fumbling to get keys into a car.

             
Frank wasn't aiming towards her as he veered it to the right at a black man dressed in an orderly's uniform--the same creature Lennon had shot earlier. It was running for everything it could directly at the woman. The once white uniform might as well have been red from the start.

             
Frank got close and slammed down on the gas. The car began fishtailing and he spun the rear end of the car so that it connected with its legs and, slamming full force, sent the monster flying into the air. It landed in the windshield of a brand new white SUV, his head going through first and lodging its body up to his gut, kicking and growling trying anything and everything to free itself.

             
Frank reversed the car quickly and rolled down the window. The woman ran to him, yelling, "Thank you! Thank you! You saved my baby! What is wrong with these people?"

             
Lennon yelled from the back seat. "They're coming, Frank! He isn't alone!"

             
Frank looked at the woman and commanded, "Get in your car,
now
! Leave the city, and, if you can, try and leave the state." Frank looked out the passenger door window and saw the Turned coming straight for them. He looked back one last time as the mother was climbing into her car. "Don't stop for anything! Get out of town! Don't let them
touch
you!"

             
She quickly started her car, crying frantically--her lower lip quivering. She mouthed a thank you at Frank, and never looked back.

             
A creature with its ear ripped jumped onto Frank's hood and started pounding on the windshield. Frank punched the gas pedal, and the tires spun. The V8 under the hood was screaming as it revved up higher and higher. The thing on the hood was pounding its fists on the windshield, trying to break into the car, and cracked the glass. Frank looked to the side of the monster and saw dozens of the Turned running their direction.

             
Lennon yelled, "Go! Go! Get out of here while we can! Damn it, man!
Go
! "

             
Frank hammered the gas pedal down launching the car forward. He pulled out the pistol he had tucked in his jacket putting the muzzle up to the windshield and fired two quick shots in succession. They punched through the creature's thick skull exploding out the back and painting the hood red. The smashing of the windshield halted as its arms fell limp followed by the rest of his body, which all crashed onto the roof. As he sped towards the exit which was blocked by a mob of the Turned, he steered at an angle turning quickly again and sending the dead man on the hood flying into the group.

             
Onlookers had stopped what they were doing and stared in disbelief at this scene unfolding in the middle of the street, unsure if it was really happening. Most of them watched like they thought it might be a stunt for something. Frank noticed the onlookers thinking what a great looking buffet they would be just sitting there for the taking.

             
He rolled the window down as he turned out of the parking lot, and scared every one of the onlookers by firing off a burst of five shots directly into the air. The people ran in any direction thinking the man in the car must be delusional. They ran for their cars and nearby buildings hoping it would be their way to safety. Once they saw the mob chasing after Frank and Lennon's car, the fact that something was horribly wrong became easy to believe. The majority of the Turned were covered with blood, or had some sort of guts, intestines, or bodily fluid pouring from them.

             
A group of five raced across the street. One of the Turned was smashed by a car breaking its legs and back instantly. When the driver, a young black man, got out of his vehicle he was scared to death by what he had done. Upon seeing the blood and freaking out even more he ran to the creature's aid. "Ma'am are you ok?! What the hell were you doing?"

             
It reached up, pulling him to the ground, and ripped a chunk out of his neck, filling the dirty street with the young man's blood. The people in the nearby gas station saw this and those who were pumping gas, as quickly as they could, tried to put the nozzles back and leave, but there wasn't enough time for them to know why they needed to hurry.

             
One with dark hair and wearing a janitor's uniform, locked eyes on an oriental man who was trying to get his gas cap back in place. He was smoking a cigarette while pumping the gas ignoring all rules of common sense. The janitor jumped up into the air knocking him over while still holding the gas pump making him spray gas everywhere. The janitor ripped into his chest and, as he screamed in pain, he dropped the burning cigarette onto the spilled gas. It set the two of them on fire, and turned his car and the gas pump immediately into a firebomb. The car exploded flipping into the air and landing on its hood on top of the man crushing the top half of his body and skull underneath the small car. The janitor ran away searching for another victim, unconcerned that he was burning. The fire set off a chain of explosions blowing up all sixteen pumps and setting the canopy ablaze. Black smoke rolled into the fresh blue sky.

             
By now they had made it to the convenience store. There was little to no hope for the occupants.

             
Frank saw this happening, knowing he didn't have enough time, enough luck or enough bullets to make a difference. He sped for the interstate which would take him to the highway leading home, hating that he could be of no further assistance to these people. He wished he could save them, or at the very least warn everyone. He looked at his cell phone which was of no use. He watched as the interstate became a cesspool of bodies and carnage. The Turned were leaping off of bridges, landing on cars, and smashing their way into the cars of innocent men and women. They ate, but unable to quench their appetites. The cars quickly piled up blocking all the oncoming traffic. People abandoned their cars, racing for the hills or anywhere they thought would be safe. Unbeknownst to them, nowhere was safe.

****

              Sergeant Thompson hated this part of his job. He knew Shaun was a great kid and probably kept Greg out of trouble. He hated how one action by the parent could screw up a kid's entire life forever. Greg had gone through the same thing when he was young from an accident rather than an illness, but nonetheless, he knew kids having to deal with losing a parent wouldn't leave them the same.

             
It was probably why the two boys had grown so close, each having similar circumstances. He thought it might have been easier for Greg--he didn't have to watch his mother grow weak. He just had to take it all at once, and the drunk driver didn't give any time to prepare for the grief to come. It was like ripping an adhesive bandage off all at once instead of peeling it back slowly. Thompson checked the house to make sure no one was looking, and took the last puff from a smoke he only allowed himself when the stress of the job was more than he could handle. He always found it easier when people were strangers. It took a much smaller emotional toll on him.