The Beginning of the End Page 2

  Even though Riley was a master jokester, he knew when to get serious. He had been excelling at the crossbow, but switched back to his M16 when they went on supply runs. The group backed up to give Harper the room he needed. In one powerful kick his boot struck the door, splintering the frame around the lock, and the door swung open on squeaky hinges. Harper entered the darkened building first, following normal routine, tailed by Riley, Chloe, and lastly, Damon.

  The air of the small library was stale like an attic, but felt moist against the skin. A chill ran down Chloe’s back, with a miniscule amount of sunlight filtering through the shades, the temperature inside felt degrees colder, but she was thankful to be out of the wind. She also had to send up a little thanks to the heavens that Damon and the guys let her stop here. Books certainly weren’t the highest priority to them, with so many people to take care of back at the safe zone. Knowledge was important too, she would try to explain; it could help them so much back home, or at least give people something to do instead of complaining all the time.

  Chloe could scarcely restrain herself waiting for them to clear the place before letting her roam free. She looked down each aisle, anxious to flip through the pages of whatever sparked her interest. She shadowed Harper and Riley as they moved through the entire downstairs, and then as they continued to the second floor. Chloe joined them at the final room; she prayed it would be empty.

  “Ready?” Damon asked with his hand on the handle.

  “Let’s do this,” she whispered.

  Harper gave Damon a curt nod. The mechanic turned the doorknob and quickly pushed the door open revealing a wide conference room. An eerie creak sounded as the door swung. Steely sunshine shone through a large windowpane at the end of the vast space. The four of them froze, the sight in front of them was something they hadn’t seen before. With his shotgun up, Damon went in to inspect the oddity, followed closely by the titanic marine. Bodies sat slouched forward onto the rectangular table like they all had simply fallen asleep as a result of a boring board meeting. There were men and women dressed in mundane street clothes. A thin layer of dust covered each of them. They noted a large punch bowl centered on the table.

  “I guess we know who blocked the front door,” Riley supposed out loud.

  Damon shot him a sharp look, and the tall marine buttoned up. He saw some had a bloody and milky substance dried on their lips.

  Harper moved to inspect it after they were convinced the bodies weren’t going to jump up and try to tear their throats out. Damon watched him trace a finger against the inside of the bowl. Whatever liquid it once contained was long dried up and left a thin white film. Harper held his index finger to his face and looked closely at the substance on his skin, rubbing his fingers together. “Cyanide,” he said after a minute. “These people committed suicide.”

  Damon felt Chloe squeeze his arm, “That’s so sad,” she muttered, before joining Riley back at the entrance, who was making sure nothing was going to sneak up on them.

  If only I could have been here sooner. Damon thought to himself.

  This was something he never wanted to see, people giving up or even thinking there was nothing to live for. He knew what that felt like, back in Arkansas about a hundred years ago in his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger, and it was then he decided to head to Colorado to find his brother…

  He looked vaguely at Harper whose mouth was moving. He was talking to him, but Damon had heard nothing. Shaking his head, he interrupted, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Let’s go. We only have so much daylight left, and Chloe is going to scream if she can’t get some books. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to hear it all the way back home.” Harper turned for the door.

  “Right. I’ve seen enough here,” Damon agreed vacantly as he followed the big marine out, and left the bodies to rest in their tomb. He was sorry to have ever opened it.

  Once the door was closed and all doors were doubled and triple checked, each of the team members went in different directions, but kept their weapons ready and stayed within close proximity to each other. Harper without any care for books, or this adventure, strolled back to the main entrance and waited for the teen to finish up.

  Chloe faintly overhead Damon tell her not to go crazy because he didn’t bring the trailer, but she was already on the move, heading straight for the science fiction and fantasy section. She immediately pulled a slender book off the shelf, it was cool and sleek against her fingertips sending goosebumps up her arms. Slowly, she wiped the dust away from the glossy black cover and thumbed through the pages inhaling deeply the scent of the printed word. She couldn’t explain why she loved the smell of books so much. If it weren’t for the dim lighting, at her hip, and bow on her back, she would have felt like she had before the outbreak happened. Before the teen knew it her arms were full of books, and she called for Riley to bring her a cart.

  “Good God,” he said with his eyebrows at his hairline. The tall narrow cart squeaked to a halt. “You better hope there isn’t a gang of deaders out there waiting for us.”

  “I know. I know. I love books, what can I say?” She plopped the books on the metal cart, and looked up at Riley as they strolled down the next aisle over. “I’m sure there is something here you can find interesting.” She pointed across the shadowy aisle at Damon who had his nose wedged in a book. “Look Damon’s found something.”

  Hearing his name, Damon looked up from a book with a red 1969 Chevelle on the cover, and waved to the two of them. He chuckled when he saw the cart, that Riley had unknowingly started pushing while Chloe continued to pile book after book. “Take it easy. ‘K?”

  “Pfftt,” Chloe said between her lips and continued into the children’s section. Quickly, she pulled a row of vibrantly colored books off the first shelf. Ms. Lana back at the safe zone acted like a Mother Goose type, and loved to read to all the kids that called the compound home. It was a sweet gesture, but mostly Chloe thought she did it because Ms. Lana lost her two children to the outbreak. It was a tragic story that too many parents regretfully told. Chloe continued down the lane of books puling whatever she thought would be useful, never losing sight of Damon.

  Damon stood in the filtered sunlight, propped up against the opposite bookcase, halfway through an Oldsmobile history book when Harper appeared at his side, causing him to jump. “Dammit man! Don’t sneak up on me.”

  “You let your guard down. We’ve lingered here long enough,” Harper said with his hollow voice, always keeping the mission on track.

  Damon slapped the book shut and stuck it back on the shelf. “You’re right. We need to make one more attempt at finding food, then a place to crash for the night.” The mechanic was on his way to see what type of load Chloe had for the truck, while Harper pulled Riley’s nose out of a book dedicated to weapons.

  When Damon reached Chloe he noticed her library cart was spilling over the edges, and she even had books wedged under her skinny arm. She looked at him with a smile on her round face. “Oh…hi.”

  “It’s time to go.”

  The teen pushed out her lower lip. “Already?” she whined.

  “Yeah, Harper says so. Plus we still gotta find food and stuff.”

  Chloe sighed. “I was just getting a good collection going. Plus I can’t find all the books on my list.” She puffed her bottom lip out.

  “I can see that. Sorry you couldn’t find all the ones you wanted. Now let’s get these to the truck before we are attacked by zombies, and are weighed down by a bunch of books.”

  Damon and Chloe met the marines at the door; by the look on Riley’s face he had something to tell them. A second later he whipped something out from behind his back.

  Before he could explain Damon piped up. “Wow, Riley, you found a book.”

  “It's not just a book, ya dick.”

  Chloe snatched it out of his hands and read the title. “How to survive a zombie apocalypse.” She laughed, and so did Damon; Harper j
ust slapped him upside the head with a monster sized hand.

  “Hey!”

  Chloe put the book on the cart. “We’ll keep it just in case we are doing something wrong.”

  “Wrong?” Damon asked. “We’re still alive aren’t we?”

  Harper gave them all a stern look under wrinkled eyebrows, then quickly checked the entrance to the library. He had already removed the barricades while everyone was busy. The vehicle was in sight, but from the look of it, they had drawn the attention of some progressively decomposing zombies. The undead creatures teetered aimlessly in the street; some had even stopped moving, as if they had completely forgotten where they were heading in the first place. The big marine quietly shut the door just as the lead zombie brushed against the trunk of a birch tree-the friction peeled off its right forearm without it even slowing down as the severed limb splashed in a cold mud puddle at its feet.

  “We have some company waiting for us, nine to be exact, four at three o’clock, two at noon and three at ten o’clock.”

  “This is all your fault, Chloe,” Riley joked, not caring why the zombies were really here, just happy he got to kill some more.

  “Not now Riley,” Damon barked.

  The four of them took their positions. When it came to a fight Damon and Chloe held back to let Riley and Harper out first, then they followed behind on the flanks. When Damon and Chloe pushed the doors open, Harper and Riley moved with experienced military precision and dispatched four zombies with short pops. Limp bodies collapsed to the concrete, one landing hung over the back side of the park bench to Harper’s left.

  Chloe strung an arrow in her bow and pulled back; the shot went into the forehead of a man’s form dressed in the remnants of a three piece suit. She pulled back to land another shot, but cried out when a zombie rounded the corner of the library unseen and crashed into her. The bow skittered across the cold concrete as her right hand shot up under its chin to keep it from biting-a move Riley taught her. She went to sweep its legs from underneath but failed. The zombie moved too quickly. Another shriek escaped her throat as Chloe fought against the snapping jaws of the undead woman. The thing craned its neck, thrashing back and forth trying to get at Chloe’s face and neck. Chloe fell to the ground, landing hard on her back, the gore-covered hair of the undead dangled in her face; she felt spiders on her cheeks when it made contact. She tried to get her feet under the zombie to kick it off, but her ankle was caught on something she couldn’t see. Unable to free herself, panic strangled her chest. She was sure she was going to die and felt the tears well up. She waited to feel sharp teeth against her next, but the next thing she knew, the zombie was being torn off her.

  Damon heaved the woman off by her shoulders, then dispatched the thing with a shattering blast of the shotgun. He yanked Chloe off the ground while the marines finished off the rest of the zombies. “You OK?” His voice was slightly shaken. He was concerned it bit her since there was grime all over her brown jacket and on her face.

  “Yeah…” Chloe answered, a little rattled. She snatched her bow from the ground, cursing that it had landed in a puddle. She stuffed the loose arrow back in her quiver before joining the other concerned faces at the vehicle; she kicked the dead zombie in the gut. “I could have handled that,” she lied.

  The three men gave her a nod, happy she was okay. Knowing the outcome wouldn’t have been the same if one of them hadn’t intervened. “Let’s get your books in the bed,” Damon said, and gave her a quick pat on the right shoulder.

  After loading the books into the bed of the truck, each one jumped into their designated seats in the death machine; Damon driving, Harper in the passenger seat, with Riley and Chloe in the half cab. Riley constantly complained about the lack of leg room, so occasionally Harper would slide the chair back to smack his skinny knees, then apologize sarcastically. The two managed to joke every now and again. They would get into a playful scuffle, making Damon have to break them up. It only took ten minutes to get to the next stop that the men thought would be a good candidate.

  They rolled up to a small pharmacy and convenient store that looked as though it had a lot of customers the day the outbreak happened. The array of cars and trucks in the parking lot were dusted with a layer of grime and dirt; doors hung wide open, squeaking in the chilly wind while white plastic “Thank You” bags danced in the air. From their vantage point, the parking area was clear of the undead, so the four of them filed out of the Silverado. Damon could hear scant bird calls in the distance and the wind whistling through the empty vehicles, but nothing more. His boots crunched over trash as they moved forward.

  “Deader nine o’clock,” Chloe said.

  Damon heard a cackling growl. “Here, too.” He pointed about ten feet away; the thing had picked itself up off the ground on wobbling feet.

  Before they knew it there were about fifteen zombies shambling about, the majority piled out from the pharmacy’s shattered glass doors, causing a commotion that led more zombies to their location. Their bodies wobbled from between the cars on the street while their limp necks bobbed on their shoulders.

  “Stay close,” Damon said instantly to Chloe. He noticed Harper and Riley pulled closer to the teen as well.

  The teenager strung a sharp arrow in her bow and let it fly, striking a zombie between milky eyes, and immediately reloaded to fire at another that stumbled too close. “Don’t worry about me, let’s just kill these deaders before more of them show up.”

  Damon had shouldered his shotgun after the thing ran out of ammunition. He continued by clobbering an armless old lady with his machete, then launched himself at another, slicing its skull in two. Damon didn’t wait to watch the cap and brain splat on the pavement, nor did his ears register the controlled rifle blast from Riley and Harper. Chloe had just killed another when Damon noticed something beyond the obvious mess in front of them, and it didn’t bode well for the convenient store they had found. Zombies trickled out from between buildings and from down the same road the companions had come from; moans surrounded them, and he could tell there were too many to handle. It would also be a waste of their precious ammunition.

  “Back to the truck!” Damon shouted.

  Both marines snapped their heads up and immediately saw the threat. “Chloe! Truck, now!” Riley bellowed involuntarily, his concern showing through his cool demeanor.

  The girl was busy tearing arrows out of dead zombies when she heard the marine call out. “Coming!” She looked up, immediately registering the threat. Damon was running towards her, his mahogany eyes alight with fear; he reached out a hand, and she took it. She felt his strength propelling her. In a flash she was in the truck, staring at the back of Damon’s seat.

  Riley and Harper made it into the truck and were reloading, as Damon dashed around to the driver’s seat. In his haste, Damon collided with the dead form of a teenager adorned in a winter coat; its skin still relatively fresh. Before the thing could open its mouth there was a bullet hole in its temple, and a wisp of smoke emanated from Harper’s rifle. Damon pushed aside the body and let it crumple to the ground. Chloe released her ears from her hands when Damon jumped in the front seat.

  “Thanks,” Damon said.

  Harper nodded in acknowledgement, but stayed silent.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” Damon was referring to the multiple times zombies have surprised him while rounding the front of his truck and how close to death he’d been each time.

  Chloe leaned forward and shook her head, “And I’ll never get used to how loud that is.”

  “It was that or Damon was gonna be deader meat,” Riley said, “But not today, huh Damon?”

  “Not today…” Damon mumbled and shifted the truck into drive.

  Two zombies slammed into the cab, jolting its inhabitants. They plastered their disgusting faces against the glass, spreading gelatinous gore with dead mouths. Rotten hands thumped over and over.

  “Well this town is too busy with deaders for an
y scavenging,” Harper said, and pulled out a map of Wyoming. His sausage like finger pointed out a blue line cutting south. “Well, we can hop on I-25 and run into multiple towns. Plus we will be headed back home at the same time.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Damon agreed, barely glancing at the map; he trusted Harper like a brother. His brain flashed to Keith, but he quickly shook it away. Then his mind lingered to the safe zone, and Victoria who stayed behind to manage it. The winter was hard on them, and they went through the majority of their supplies over the long months. She was as smart as she was beautiful, and he couldn’t wait to be home with her. Being outside the wall always made his skin itch, which was a quality he and Chloe differed on greatly; he was always getting reports from perimeter guards stating Chloe was climbing the fences. It was a direct violation of the rules, but since it was Damon’s safe zone, the guards didn’t say much about it. His brain continued to wander as the Silverado rumbled down the road.

  “Turn here,” Damon heard Harper utter.

  They were heading down a snaking highway with leafless trees and evergreens on both sides as far as the eye could see. The thawing ground was devoid of any color other than gray and brown. With the cloud cover, even the sky remained colorless and dull. Now and again there was an abandoned vehicle, and they stopped to investigate each one. Every supply and weapon counted, nothing was guaranteed.

  Damon slowed the truck when he spotted a dirty black Honda angled in the middle of the highway with its trunk popped open. It wasn’t a promising lead, but they would check anyway. When they stopped Damon and Harper got out followed by Riley; Chloe chose to stay in the cab with the new book she had started reading. Quite honestly, the teen was exhausted; after being nearly torn apart by a zombie at the library, and then the fight at the pharmacy, she was ready to take a break. They had been on the road for three days in the cramped truck. Outside they had to remain vigilant for threats; it took a lot out of someone. Her brain…her nerves needed a break.