Badlands Trilogy (Book 3): Out of the Badlands Page 2

  Below, the strange creatures shrieked and growled, the horrific clacking of their long talons echoing throughout the halls. Outside, a flash of lightning arced, flooding the upper floor with bright, white light. A chorus of screams erupted from below, melding with the crash of thunder.

  “The lightning blinds them,” Sam said. “That’s why the camera flash worked. It disoriented them.”

  After navigating through two classrooms, they found themselves on the other side of the school now, opposite where the attacks had occurred. Sam and his mother’s room awaited them below on the first floor. If they hurried, they had a fighting chance of making it in and out before the unknown predators took over the school completely.

  Another door greeted them at the top of the steps. Sam pulled it open and let his mother and Chloe pass. They stepped slowly and carefully down the steps, in total darkness save for the tiny beam of Sam’s flashlight.

  At the bottom they met another solid door. Denise pushed it open and the rusty hinges screamed, slicing through the silence like sharp knife. They were now on the other side of the school, with a set of classrooms separating them from the pale creatures. A quick glance up and down the hallway revealed no immediate threats.

  “Sam, you got that camera of yours ready?” Denise asked.

  “Yes, Mom.” He held the digital camera in his right hand, his finger poised on the shutter button like a trigger.

  “Good. Chloe, you still have your pistol?”

  Chloe shook her head. “Jonathan took it away when I got here. He said I was too young for a gun.”

  Denise sighed. “Figures.” She paused for a moment, but went on. “We’ll just have to make do then. When we get to the bottom of these steps we go straight to the room. No bright ideas,” she said, glancing toward Sam. “We grab our packs and go out the window. In and out, got it?”

  Sam and Chloe both agreed.

  “Now!” Denise whispered, stepping into the darkened corridor. Sam followed, lighting the way as best he could, Chloe in tow. They hurried through the darkness, pulses pounding. Sam hadn’t been this afraid in a while, not since before they found Jonathan and the school, back when he and his mom were still on the road. With every step he could imagine one of those white nightmares appearing in the flashlight’s anemic beam, long talons tearing into his stomach, his guts running out like a bloody waterfall.

  They made it to the room in less than a minute, encountering no predators along the way. The still-burning candle cast a pallid glow through the open door of their room and onto the hallway floor like a homing beacon. A dozen steps later they found themselves back inside their room. Sam glanced around, realizing keenly how much he’d miss this place.

  “Be quick,” Denise said when they arrived in the room.

  Sam nodded. He retrieved the backpack from the foot of the neatly-made bed while Chloe went to the window and lifted it open. Rain rushed in, riding on the heavy winds of the storm, pooling on the tile floor just inside the room.

  Sam walked to the window, pack in hand and turned back toward his mother just as another lightning flash streaked across the sky. The glow from the flash lit the room, including the hallway just outside the door, revealing a hunched, pale figure creeping up behind his mother.

  “Mom!” he screamed.

  The flash blinded the creature as Denise turned. Recovering quickly, the creature pounced. Denise got off one random shot before striking the floor hard, the monster on top of her. Sam dropped his pack and began to run toward his mother. Quickly, Chloe reached out a hand and gripped him by the arm, pulling him back. Denise screamed one last time before the creature sank its sharp teeth into her throat and violently shook its head, leaving behind a cavernous hole in her throat. It lifted its head, bloody flesh dangling from the thing’s mouth as Denise’s body jerked. Blood quickly pooled beneath her as her eyes rolled back in her head.

  Sam stood, horrified and unable to move. The creature slurped down the bloody chunk of Denise’s throat before opening its mouth wide in a terrifying scream. Eyeing more prey in the room, it hunkered down on its haunches, ready to attack.

  Sam could only stand there, mouth agape, unable to move. Chloe tore the camera from Sam’s grasp and fired the flash toward the creature. Bright, white light filled the room, forcing the predator to shield its red eyes from the blinding glare. The creature shook its massive head, slamming itself into the wall, unable to see its prey and shrieking in frustration.

  With their attacker stunned, Chloe yanked hard on Sam’s arm, shoving the upper half of his body through the open window. Another push and he fell through, tumbling the short distance to the muddy ground below.

  Another set of glowing red eyes appeared behind the blinded creature. Chloe raised the camera again and pressed the shutter button.

  Nothing happened.

  “Shit!” she screamed. The flashing amber light taunted her from the top of the camera.

  “Come on, come on, come on!”

  The LED turned green. Chloe hit the shutter button as the second creature entered the room. It recoiled at the flash, covering its eyes and uttering a shrill, ear-piercing shriek.

  Wasting no time, Chloe dove through the window, doing a quick tuck and roll before striking the ground below hard. The maneuver worked only partially, as she landed on one shoulder and the back of her head in the mud. Her backpack was the only thing that kept her from breaking her neck.

  Ignoring the pain from the fall, she got to her feet quickly and found Sam. He stood, transfixed, staring at the open window.

  “Come on!” she yelled, gripping him by the arm.

  He didn’t budge.

  She slapped him across the face as hard as she could, the sound of the impact audible above the torrential rain. That seemed to snap him out of his daze. With water running in rivulets down his face, he looked at her with an expression of sadness, a defeated and lonely look that nearly broke her heart.

  “Come with me,” she said, her voice taking on a soothing tone.

  Sam continued to stare at the window.

  She touched his cheek and turned his face, looking him in the eye. “Come.”

  He nodded and followed.

  They ran. Behind them, the creatures fed on the bloody remains of Denise Treiber while her only son and his only friend escaped into the malevolent and stormy night.

  Chapter Four

  Ed Brady stood across from Dave Porter in the courtyard of Glenn Summerville’s former compound, a repurposed Kansas City university residence hall that had been a prison up until a month ago, until Dave and a group of prisoners liberated it, freeing nearly fifty captives.

  “I guess this is it,” Ed said.

  Dave nodded. “I guess so.”

  “You don’t have to go after him, you know,” Trish Connor said, flanked by Ed’s sons, Zach and Jeremy.

  “We all have things we have to do,” Dave said. “This is mine.”

  “I just…I just don’t want to see you go,” Trish said. “I feel like I’m never going to see you again.”

  Dave smiled and changed the subject. “So how many are going north?”

  “Twelve,” Jasper Carter said.

  “So with the group of twenty-eight going to California that leaves, what…five or six people staying behind?” Dave said.

  Ed nodded.

  “Everyone should be going,” Dave said. “It’s reckless staying here.”

  “And they say it’s suicide to go,” Ed said. He shrugged. “They’re going to do what they want and that’ll be that.”

  “I suppose. Who’s leading your truck in the convoy?”

  “John,” Trish answered.

  Dave chuckled. “Good for you. Could’ve been worse. You could’ve gone with Alice.”

  Ed shook his head. “I asked for John. There’s something about Alice…I don’t know. John is the lesser of two evils, I guess.”

  “You should be leading this thing,” Dave said. “I told them so, but you know how these
fucking committees operate. They put it to a vote, but they don’t know you like I do.”

  Ed grinned. “Sounds like you’re the one who should be in charge. After what you did to Glenn and his crew, you’d be a shoo-in.”

  “I had help.”

  “Things have come a long way since Mitchell’s warehouse, eh?” Ed said.

  “I guess so,” Dave replied. “I miss that guy.”

  “We all do,” Trish added. “He was one of the good ones.”

  Dave nodded. “We’ve lost a few of those along the way.”

  Silence passed between them before Dave broke it. “Well, I’d better check on Johnny and see how far he’s gotten with the Jeep. He’ll be pissy if he has to do all the work himself.”

  Ed extended a hand. “It’s been good knowing you.”

  Dave shook Ed’s hand with a tight grip. “Same here. And thanks for not shooting me back there in Mitchell’s warehouse.”

  Ed laughed. “I think we both have Mitchell to thank for us not shooting each other.”

  Dave turned to Trish. A tear streaked down her cheek as he reached out a hand. Instead, she pulled him in and gave him a hug.

  “Don’t go,” she said. “Please.”

  “I’ll be okay,” he replied.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “You take care of these boys,” Dave said, breaking the embrace.

  Nodding, Trish quickly wiped another stray tear away.

  “You guys take care of each other,” Dave said to Zach and Jeremy. They nodded in return.

  Dave extended a hand to Jasper. “Glad to have met you, if only for a short while.”

  “Sometimes a short while is all we have,” Jasper replied, shaking Dave’s hand. “Every extra day is a bonus.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Dave said, releasing Jasper’s grip.

  Dave took a deep breath and faced the group. “See you on the other side,” he said before walking away.

  Ed watched as his friend departed, slightly limping from the healing ankle broken by Calvin Summerville before fleeing the compound. As much as Ed didn’t want to admit it, he knew Trish was right.

  They’d never see their friend again.

  Chapter Five

  The bright morning sun cast its rays over the walls of the residence hall, basking the grounds below in a sparkling radiance that would have been beautiful were it not illuminating such a sad and desperate state of civilization below. In the days before the virus the grounds would have been teeming with young people, all living and studying together, gaining skills and wisdom to last them their entire lives, lives they could reasonably expect to last decades.

  Now the sun’s blazing rays revealed an entirely different scene within the confines of the residence hall’s high walls. Dozens of ragged survivors hurried about in the summer heat carrying rifles, food, clothing and treated gasoline. Three distinct groups worked to box up and distribute the weapons and supplies. The largest group filled the two trucks headed to California. They’d need the most supplies. For them California beckoned with an intercepted broadcast, promising a safe haven, free of the deadly virus and its just as deadly victims.

  The second group took most of the remaining supplies. For them Canada promised cold and hinted at a respite from the teeming hordes of the infected.

  Both groups left a small share for the group electing to stay behind. The third group hadn’t been happy about being left with so little, but as outnumbered as they were their arguments fell on deaf ears.

  By noon the trucks had been packed half-full. Evening found the trucks fully-stocked and gassed up, ready to roll out the following morning. A small celebration sprang up as night fell, complete with several bottles of whiskey, a large fire and an acoustic guitar retrieved from one of the derelict dorm rooms.

  Ed Brady sat near the fire, accompanied by his sons, Zach and Jeremy. As the boys stoked the fire, Ed watched the exchange between the celebrating survivors, remarking on how well they seemed to get along. Ed didn’t particularly like crowds. After traveling for two years alone with his sons, he’d never planned on having any company.

  Then they stumbled upon Trish Connor and everything changed.

  Before he knew it, his group more than doubled in size. He found himself not only responsible for his own children, but for the welfare of the entire group—and they almost didn’t survive.

  Tomorrow morning he’d be traveling with more people than ever before. The idea overwhelmed him, but there really was no other option. Traveling alone with a single pistol between them and only as much food as they could carry on their backs wasn’t a viable option. Not anymore, if it ever had been. Strength lay in numbers and he had to bet on the best chance of getting Zach and Jeremy to a true safe haven. Their first attempt—St. Louis, Missouri—had only provided a year’s worth of sanctuary before dumping them back out into the wild. Kansas City ended up being a prison camp. Ed had his concerns that a safe place could even exist at all, but he had little other option left than to hope.

  “Where will we sleep?” Jeremy asked, breaking Ed’s thoughts into pieces.

  “In the truck,” he replied.

  “Will there be enough room?” Zach asked.

  “Not really. It’ll be fourteen to a truck, plus all the supplies. We’ll all be on top of each other,” Ed said.

  Zach frowned. “I don’t want sleep with all those people around. Can’t we just go by ourselves? Just us and Trish?”

  “And Jasper,” Jeremy added.

  Zach nodded. “Definitely Jasper. I wish Dave would’ve come too.”

  Though Dave had only left the prior day, it already seemed like years ago. “It doesn’t make sense for us to travel alone anymore,” Ed said. “We have a truck, fuel and supplies this way, plus guns. This trip is just way too long to take on foot.”

  “What about bicycles?” Zach asked.

  “Too long for bicycles too, buddy.” He paused, glancing at the crowd as they milled about, illuminated by the roaring fire in the dusky twilight of their last night in Kansas City. “Everything will be fine.”

  “I’m not convinced,” Jeremy said. “I still have my doubts.”

  Ed grinned, reminded just how much his youngest son had matured. Five years old when the virus broke, Jeremy would soon be celebrating his tenth birthday. And in a year his older brother would be a teenager. They’d both lost most of their childhood, along with their mother. And, if he was being honest, Ed had to admit that in many ways they’d lost their father, or at least the man Ed had once been. The virus hadn’t killed him, but it sure as hell changed him.

  “I have my doubts too,” Ed said. “But it’s still our best chance. I think you both know it.”

  The kids nodded and went back to stoking the fire. Ed searched the undulating crowd, eventually finding Trish engaged in a conversation with a gay couple who would be sharing the same truck as Ed and his family. They’d had the fortunate luck to survive the virus together, but the unfortunate chance to share the same first name.

  Trish raised a hand and waved. The couple, Kevin and Kevin, followed suit.

  Ed waved back. The Kevins seemed like good people, but who knew anything about anyone until things got rough, until things got dangerous, until a true life and death situation? Most of the folks traveling with them Ed only knew from seeing them at dinner or passing them in the hall. Anything could happen along the way and he had no real idea as to whether he could trust any of them.

  Trish made her way to where Ed sat. He stood to greet her. “How come you’re over here by the fire?” she asked.

  “I’m not much for crowds.”

  She nodded. “Figured. I thought it’d be a good idea for me to get familiar with the people we’re going to be riding with.”

  Ed smiled. “Always thinking, aren’t you?”

  Trish shrugged. “I try. Unfortunately I’m about pooped for the night. We should get some rest for the big day tomorrow.”

  “Good idea.�
� Ed turned to Zach and Jeremy. “You guys ready?”

  They both nodded, tossing their sticks into the fire before getting to their feet.

  “Question is, are you ready?” Trish asked.

  Ed smiled. “I have a feeling this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Trish said. “Things will look better in the morning.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said.

  They made their way through the crowd and back to the room. After everyone had fallen asleep, Ed remained awake for some time, thinking as he stared into the inky blackness of the room. Unease tugged at him hard, but he couldn’t quite pin it on any specific thing.

  Eventually sleep overtook him, tugging him down into its restless and murky depths as the world moved on around him.

  Chapter Six

  They awoke to bad news.

  As Ed opened the door to his room, a large man with red hair and a full beard just as red passed him in the hallway.

  “Did you hear?” Red Beard asked.

  “Hear what?” Ed replied.

  “They stole our shit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The group headed to Canada. They snuck away early this morning after taking a bunch of our stuff. Food, guns, you name it. As much as they could carry.”

  Ed sighed. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. We got two thirds of our supplies left, maybe less. They’re doing an inventory now to see how bad it is.”

  “Are they still planning on leaving today?”

  “I’m sure they are,” Red Beard said. “Low supplies or not. We’ll just have to pick through the leftovers along the way.”

  “That’s dangerous.”

  “Well, no shit. But what other choice do we have? Ain’t no way I’m staying here though. We won’t make it through the winter.” Red Beard shook his head. “Ain’t no way we’d catch the sons of bitches. They got a two hour head start on us. If I could, I’d make ‘em pay.”