This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)-A Zombie Novel

Chapter 18

I broke the ice with the first shot, aiming for the infected only two unkempt lawns away. It flew onto its back, not getting back up. With my feet firmly planted, I started to aim at the others. Soon, a handful of brass shell casings surrounded me and the rifle was empty. I removed the magazine and replaced it with the full spare one.

The closest infected had been taken out, mostly by me. Roy said he didn't want to waste the bullets with his crappy aim. We creeped up to the porch and peered inside the front window. I couldn't see any movement behind the sheer curtains so using the butt of Roy's AR-15, I smashed the window. The glass shattered and fell to our feet. Roy made sure to clear the edges of jagged shards with the gun I handed back to him before we went in.

Just before we entered, an infected in a tattered yellow cardigan stumbled from between the house and the one beside it. Roy hit the trigger too soon, bullet holes now adorning the paneling of the house we were breaking into. On the bright side, he at least hit the zombie version of Mr. Rogers. What a wonderful day in the neighborhood.

I lifted a leg over the window sill and dropped inside the stuffy house. The smell of rot hit my nose and I cringed, not the least bit enthused about what we would find.

"Ugh," Roy groaned as he lifted the neck of his shirt over his nose.

We panned out and searched the house. It didn't take long. The whole floor couldn't have been more than nine-hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms towards the back with a bathroom between them; all of the rooms clear of infected. We had to pass the small living room and kitchen area to get to them. On the way back to the front, I spotted a door that I assumed lead to a basement and went over to investigate.

The smell got stronger the closer I got to the paint-chipped door. Why was it always the basement? I could see a tuff of fur sticking out from under the door and decided that I wasn't going to open the door this time. I just rattled the handle to make sure it was locked and it was. I wedged a chair from the dining table under the handle just to be one the safe side. Last thing we needed was a rabid dog after us.

"Something down there?" Roy asked, suddenly right behind me. He moved like he weighed nothing at all.

"Something dead, but this should be fine for now."

We headed back outside into the wonderful smelling fresh air. More infected had gathered. I could just picture them as a bunch of nosy neighbors drawn outside by some kind of domestic drama playing out on the front lawn.

"You take Chloe inside while I get these ones," I shouted to Roy who was already at the car.

He gathered Chloe from the car, grabbing her hand and running back to the house. As he placed her through the broken window, I could hear her say, "Eww, what's that smell?"

It was weird, but I had almost missed my Beretta like it was a person; I much preferred the heavier, but well balanced weapon. The infected only a few yards from me turned just as I shot, causing my aim to go askew and rip off its upper lip in the process. The infected turned back to me, its face now in a permanent scowl.

The fact that the infected had turned just at the right moment must have been a fluke because my next shot hit home and it dropped to the ground with the rest of its face. I turned in a circle seeing that even more were coming out from their hiding places. It was like a swarm of wasps after kicking their nest.

I shot until the slide of the gun popped back and it felt like I had hardly made a dent in the incoming crowd. Why were there so many of them? Was it because we were technically in the city now?

"Shit!"

I turned to see Roy lifting Chloe out, their bathroom break over. We all met back at the car and I shoved Chloe in. I grabbed the other automatic rifle from the bag, but the crowd was still too big.

"We need to get moving. I hope you didn't have to use the bathroom too because it's too late," Roy said as he stuffed himself back into the passenger's side.

I ran around and got in, turning the car back on. The needle landed on less than a quarter of a tank. Why had I not noticed that? That note from Ethan really threw me for a loop.

"We need to add some gas otherwise we won't get too far," I said, smacking the dash.

"You keep them off of me and I'll fill it," Roy said. "Pop the trunk."

I pulled the latch and saw the trunk lift in the rear-view mirror. Roy took off out the door before I had time to ready my gun. Stepping back outside, I had to bash one of the infected in the head with the butt of my rifle. They were getting too close for comfort. Leaving the driver's door open, I used it to prop up the gun and shoot.

I turned to see Roy sticking the end of one of our jerry cans into the tank. It looked like he was trying to be careful not to spill, but I'd say urgency outweighed being frugal at the moment.

"Hurry!" I yelled as I took out another wave of infected, this time having to use the roof of the car.

The magazine clicked empty and I cursed.

"I'm out!"

Roy closed the tank lid and smashed down the trunk as he ran around again. We both got in and locked the doors. The tank was now sitting at seventy five percent full which was more than enough to get us far from here. I pressed on the gas and carried forward. The bodies drew closer and I had to slow back down to maneuver by them. More and more were pouring into the street and clogging our escape route.

The car bounced up and down as we ran over a limb or two, and then stopped. I hit the gas and the wheels spun but we must have bottomed out on a stack of infected. This car had practically no clearance. I looked at Roy, unsure of how to get us going again, especially since we were in the middle of an infestation.

"Everybody start rocking," Roy demanded.

Even with the four of us rocking forwards and backwards, we hardly made the car move. I tried to swallow, panic making it almost impossible.

We were so surrounded by the bodies of the infected that the inside of the car went black, like we had been engulfed in a tarp. Banging hands scraped at the windows and doors. I had no idea how much pressure a side window could take before it shattered, but I was sure I was about to find out.

The sound of loud gunfire outside seeped into the vehicle. We all stared at each other confused. Shot by shot light started to infuse the cabin of the car, like holes being poked into a blind, as the infected dropped outside.

"What the hell..." Roy trailed off.

Once enough of the bodies had hit the ground, I could finally see who our savior was. It wasn't just one person, it was multiple. All with their own automatic guns. I started to panic. Were these from the group of mercenaries? Roy was probably thinking the same thing from the worried expression stuck on his face.

"We need to refill these magazines. Now," I barked.

We fumbled for the ammo, shaky hands making it hard to put the bullets in properly.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Roy muttered as he dropped a handful of bullets onto the car floor.

"They're comin' over here!" Chloe screamed, having picked up on the frantic atmosphere.

I looked up to see two of the men heading towards us. The rest were picking off the wandering infected. I couldn't even open the door because there were too many bodies lying outside like they were in protest. And the vehicle was suspended in limbo. We were trapped.