Zombie Killer Squad: Chapter Five
Zombie Killer Squad
Focus on your breathing. This feels like training, except now real-life monsters lurk in the shadows. My heart thuds against my ribs. I force a short laugh, brittle with fear. This isn’t helping.
Asher shoots me a questioning glance. He leads our squad through a maze of abandoned cars, moss and vines constricting around each vehicle. “Rod, what’s our location?”
Rod moves through our overgrown world with ease. As a former military man, his specialty lies in the tactical. He glances at the tablet in his hands, eyes calculating. “We’re four clicks southwest of the distress call.”
“About two and a half miles.” Jamie translates on autopilot. She was raised by a military mom, explaining the lingo to us civilians has become second nature for her.
I groan, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. I don’t mind the walk, but crossing paths with the Rabids makes my palms clammy. All those weeks can’t drown out the anxiety that churns and bubbles in my throat, leaving a sense of fear.
“We got this, Iz.” Val bumps my shoulder, her bright red ponytail bouncing in time with every step. I once asked her about her cheerful attitude during outings, and she said it soothed her inner demons. She jokes that redheads have no soul, but I think it boosts her confidence.
“Isn’t’ it a little strange that we haven’t encountered a single Rabid yet?” My eyes dart along the tree line to the left, each flicker of movement making my pulse skip. A shiver crawls up my spine, sharp and cold, at any shifting shadow and blind spot.
She shrugs. “Most Rabids are drawn to the larger cities. It’s not too far-fetched that the small towns we have passed have been deserted.”
“It is giving me the creepy-jeebies.” I try to shake the unease by focusing on my pace. We have already walked fifteen miles. The sun is high in the sky and the morning has been oppressively humid. Our only reprieve is from highway overpasses, though we watch for unwanted visitors there. Rabids prefer dark spaces, avoiding the sunlight when possible.
Jamie’s laugh is light and teasing. “That’s not how the saying goes.”
“Mine’s better.” I wipe sweat from my brow and gulp some water, the cold a balm to my parched throat.
***
An hour later, we stand in front of an old supercenter. Its faded walls have turned a sickly green from overgrown vegetation and the smell is akin to a decomposing body. “This is it?” Jesse quirks a brow at our squad leader, clearly unimpressed.
“Looks that way,” Asher motions for us to huddle up. “We’re going to need to split up to cover more ground. Rod and Val will enter from the east. Jesse and Jamie, take the west. Izzy and I will go in the rear. Signal if you see or hear anything. If we find nothing in twenty minutes, meet up here. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Rod nods curtly, and he and Val head right from our position.
I bounce on my tiptoes, nerves buzzing under my skin, trying to shake the anxious energy that makes my legs jittery and my stomach clench.
“Come on, cupcake. We can’t waste any daylight.” Asher gestures for me to follow him around the building.
Weeds and brambles poke through the cracked concrete, each step a needle-sharp ordeal. I wince as a barb snags my sleeve for the third time, an acute sting flaring in my arm. Blood beads on my biceps and I swipe at it, frustration clenching my jaw, like swatting a fly.
“I think I see a door,” Asher shoves at a heavy object in a wide archway, revealing two metal doors set into the giant grocery store.
Grabbing my flashlight, I aim the beam at Asher. He gives me a wink and pries them open as gently as possible. It groans softly on its hinges, and I take a slow breath.
Asher and I stare at each other for several beats, my heart pounding as we wait and listen. There’s a rustling in the dark. Asher pulls his weapon from his jeans holster, his jaw clenched. I hold my breath, expecting an army of Rabids to burst through the doorway. Suddenly, an inky ball of fur shoots into the sunlight, making me squeak. Asher blinks as it disappears into the brush. “Just a rat.” I close my eyes, willing my pulse to slow, heat flush prickling my cheeks.
Asher shines his light into the darkness, left and then right. “All clear,” he whispers to me before stepping into the pitch-black in front of us, the small pistol steady in his hand.
Guns are used on most of our stealth missions unless circumstances cause the use of a sword. Such conditions include large cities, where the sound of gunfire could alert nearby Rabids to our location. We’ve had a team learn that the hard way. Warren had this rule drilled into our training as a result.
I pull out my firearm and follow closely behind Asher. Our yellow lights sweep over toppled shelves and scattered contents in the room. Walking on uneven tiles, the shadows play tricks on my mind. “I doubt anyone has returned to this place since the rabid outbreak.” I sidestep a river of brown liquid in the chaos.
Asher’s radio crackles to life, and Jesse’s voice breaks through the silence. “We found them. Move towards the giant sign that says grocery.”
Asher responds with a quick, “Copy that.”
I move toward the closest exit, listening intently for any danger. My foot catches on something. I tug and pull too hard, my mind racing as I stumble backward.
“Shit,” Asher reaches out a little too late to steady me.
A violent, metallic gasp escapes as my skull slams into the concrete. An explosion of pain rips down my spine, radiating hot and wild into every limb. Blackness crowds my vision, and for a split second, terror seizes me before everything slips away.
Editor: Lucy Cafiero
