July 12, 2011 by Mark Lidstone

Zombies I – Chapter 6

VOTING FOR THIS CHAPTER IS CLOSED

This is the Sixth chapter in my Vote Your Own Adventure series. Your vote will determine the next step and could end up winning you a prize. To read more about the series, click here. To read the previous chapter, click here.

Friends

You release Will’s hand and stare at him in awe. You haven’t met another living person in days and finding someone willing to help you nearly brings tears to your eyes. The two men behind him lower their guns in acceptance and a smile stretches across your face.
“Beats the hell out of walking,” you say.

“Welcome aboard,” says Will with a smile.

The four of you walk out into the main room of the gas station just as the front door flies open. A man rushes in, his eyes filled with panic. He runs directly towards Will, nearly crashing into him.

“We’ve got to go,” he blurts out. “Now.”

“Calm down, Derek,” Will says. “What’s going on?”

“They’re coming,” Derek says, trying to catch his breath. “There’s a lot of them and they’re close. We need to move now before we’re surrounded.” He stares at you, sizing you up. “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” says Will.

“Clean?”

“Looks like it.” Will reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a small, grey handgun. He tosses it to you. “Can you handle one of these?”

You nod but your hands shake. You ready the gun and switch off the safety.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” says Geoffrey and you all move through the door and into the parking lot.

The five of you stop at once and you stare at the swaying bodies filling the parking lot. They must have followed you there. You catch a glimpse of an old, red pickup truck but it’s surrounded. One of the zombies catches sight of you and breaks away from the pack. You begin to back away into the gas station.

A bang echoes out next to you, startling you, and the straggler drops to the ground as his head explodes. Will stands beside you with his eye level to his rifle, staring down the sights. The bang attracts the attention of the rest of the horde and they all move towards you.

Will reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pistol clips. He hands them to you without looking at you.

“You’re going to need these,” he says.

You take them and slide them into your pocket without thanking him. You swallow as you hold the gun in front of you and take aim. Gunshots echo around you as your team pulls their triggers. Bodies drop to the ground and the ones still standing moan in excitement. Geoffrey pushes past you and closer to the crowd. The butt of his shotgun rests against his shoulders as he unloads bullets into the mob. Dark blood and entrails spray through the air like mist every time he pulls the trigger.

You catch sight of Derek out of the corner of your eye. He’s holding a pistol like yours and moves around the mob to the right, keeping his distance and picking off stragglers or anything that gets close to him. You decide it would be best if you did the same so you mimic him on the left side. Will and Brian keep their distance and pick off as many as they can with their rifles.

You still aren’t used to firing a gun. Each time you pull the trigger, you squeeze your eyes shut and jump at the sound of the bang. Your aim has improved but the majority of your shots hit your targets in the body, only slowing them slightly. You use up your first clip and struggle to load a new one. You watch the others drop their targets with ease and feel a sting of embarrassment. You steady your aim and take a deep breath. You pull the trigger again and your bullet pierces the forehead of a young, white-eyed woman in front of you. She drops to the ground and you focus on your next target.

Before you can pull the trigger, hands grip your shoulder and you feel warm breath near your neck. You turn your head and see the face of an elderly man inches from you – his mouth gaping as it closes in on your skin. The monster’s head explodes as a bullet enters his skull and blood covers the side of your face and your shoulders. You wipe the thick goo from your eyes and look up to see Will stomping towards you, his rifle in his hands.

“Are you OK?” he asks.

“I’ll live,” you say.

“It’s not living that I’m concerned with,” he says. He grabs your shirt and pulls you close. “Keep your head in the game or we leave you behind. There’s no room for mistakes. You have to be on your guard. We can’t keep an eye on you all the time and if you get bitten, I won’t hesitate to take you out. Are we clear?”

You slowly nod your head and turn away from him. You try to ignore the pain building in your side but it’s becoming unbearable. You reach into your bag and pull out the bottle of pain killers. There are only a few left. You put the bottle back into your bag without taking any. You have to conserve them. As you close the flap, you see Brian staring at you with a look of concern on his face.

The sound of the truck’s door slamming shut claims your attention and you look up to see Derek in the driver’s seat. Most of the mob has been cleared out, many of them still pull themselves across the ground – their legs and torsoes torn to pieces by shotgun blasts.

“Come on,” Will shouts.

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you across the parking lot. You cry out as you feel the wound on your side tear open. Will releases you and you nearly drop to the ground in pain. You hobble towards the truck. Will climbs into the front with Derek while Geoffrey and Brian climb into the back. Geoffrey reaches for you as the truck starts and begins to roll forward. You grab his hand and climb into the pan and pain shoots through your entire body as your wound splits.

You collapse onto the cool steel and grind your teeth in agony. Blood oozes past the bandages and runs down your skin. You look up to see Brian and Geoffrey staring at you, their backs pressed against the back window of the truck. They say nothing.

You slowly push yourself into a seated position. Nausea overwhelms you as you do. You press your hand against your mouth, trying to fight back the vomit creeping into your throat. It pushes its way through and onto the pan of the truck. Your fingers are covered in a thick liquid resembling purple blood. The sight of it brings about another wave of nausea and you throw up again, this time bright red blood.

Your stomach begins to settle and you force yourself to meet Brian’s eyes. He shakes his head at you and frowns.

“Jesus Christ,” says Geoffrey. He turns his head away and stares at the landscape as it zips by, a look of sadness on his face.

Brian slaps his hand onto the roof of the truck twice and Will turns to face him from inside. They exchange a knowing look before Will nods and turns away. You watch as he speaks to Derek. Derek turns to face him, briefly, with fear in his eyes. He brings his eyes back to the road before responding. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you are overwhelmed with dread and bury your face into your hands. The truck makes a u-turn and they drive you back into the city, away from the radio signal.
—

They drive deep into the city. You pass the apartment complex where your parents lived and the hunting store. You demanded answers at the start of the trip but nobody answered so now you sit quietly, wondering what they have in store for you. You’re sure Brian suspects you’re infected but you wonder why they didn’t just pull over and put a bullet in your head. Where are they taking you?

The truck finally stops in front of a small, white house with a picket fence. Derek and Will leave the truck cab and walk to you. You want to run, get away as fast as you can but Geoffrey stares you down. He has his shotgun in hand and the pain in your side would slow you down.

“I’m going to need that gun back, Mate.”

Will reaches his hand over the side of the truck. You hesitate a moment before dropping the pistol into his hand.

“What’s going on?” you ask, feeling defeated.

“Looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s talk about it inside.” He nods his head towards the house.

You pause and look around, weighing your options. Derek pulls his pistol from his pants and holds it at his side. You have no other choice but to follow them into the house. You wince as you step out of the truck.

They lead you into a dark basement and close the door. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling, filling the room with a dim glow. The room is unfinished and the floor is mostly dirt. In the middle of the room is a long metal table covered in blood. Next to it is a stool and a small, round table. Brian steps in front of you. He’s holding a bag in his hand that you hadn’t noticed it before.

“Take off your shirt, please,” he says.

You stare up at Will with a questioning look on your face. He sighs and nods, telling you to do what Brian says. You unbutton the plaid shirt, revealing your blood-soaked bandages. You gasp in pain as Brian unwraps them.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he sees your wound.

“Infected?” Will asks.

“Most definitely.”

You fight back the urge to cry. You had known all along that you were infected but hearing it said out loud was too much. You swallow the lump in your throat and stare at Will.

“Now what?” you ask. “You’re going to kill me?”

“That’s up to you,” he says. “Brian here, is a doctor. A specialist.”

“Infectious diseases,” Brian adds.

“He thinks he can find a cure.”

You stare at him intently, studying his face before focusing your attention on Brian.

“A cure?” you ask.

“I can’t promise anything,” Brian says. “I need to study the infection. Take some blood samples, study the wound. I might be able to help you.”

You pause to think. It’s possible that he could help you, maybe even cure you. You look at the table in the middle of the room. It’s covered in blood and so is the floor around it. It doesn’t look like they were just taking blood samples.

VOTING FOR THIS CHAPTER IS CLOSED

Do You:

A: Stay with them and let them examine you.

B: Tell them no and resume your journey towards the safe zone.