Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

“I didn’t mean to…” she cries.

“Yes,” I say. “You did.”

She sobs next to me and I lift my hatchet. The other Eaters are on their feet and charging. I position the hatchet, ready to make my move and…I freeze. Black spidery eyes narrow down on me. I can’t do it. I’m going to die. We’re going to die.

“Alex!” Mom yells and I jolt, hands tightening around the wooden hatchet handle. But it’s too late, the Eater is on me, hands grabbing, jaw snapping. A loud, mechanical click echoes off the pool deck.

“Get down!” A voice demands. A male voice. I fall backwards, blade lashing. I nick the Eater in the chin, dark blood pours down the wound. A shot to the head jerks and incapacitates the one near me. Three more shots pelt the night air. Three more heaps on the ground. “Get up! Let’s go!”

I scramble up following the voice. My mother is already there, choking back sobs. The figure is shrouded in the shadows and a flicker of concern washes over me as he leads us through a door. The roar of the Eater’s pushing against our backs.

The man bolts and barricades the door, pushing a metal desk in front of it. His gun lies on top of the desk. I stop to catch my breath, check on my mom, and settle my frayed nerves. “Thank you,” I say finally seeing his face.

He looks to be in his late twenties. If I had to guess I’d assume mixed race—possibly Asian or Hispanic. I’m sure it doesn’t matter, but my mind wants to focus on something other than the banging on the outside door.

“You’re welcome. Come on, they won’t quiet down if they can hear us.”

He picks up a flashlight and I start to follow him down the narrow hall. Mom grabs my hand and holds me back.

“We can’t just go with him, Alex. What if he’s dangerous,” she whispers.

“He just saved our lives, Mom.”

“That doesn’t mean he may not try to kill us…” The look of panic washes over her face. “Or worse.”

“Everything okay?” he says realizing that we didn’t follow him.

“Yeah, just give us a minute okay?”

He nods and disappears into the dark hallway.

I sigh. She’s right,

but I’m tired and just glad to be inside. “Look, we both have weapons. We can protect ourselves.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Seriously, we can,” I say. “This is our reality now. We have to adapt.”

She lifts her gun and nods. God, she’ll probably blow one of our heads off with that thing. I catch up to the guy and he leads us to a series of small offices, complete with a break room and a running refrigerator. The lights are off but I make out the space by the ever moving beam of his flashlight. “I’m Paul, by the way.”

“Alex. This is my mother Sarah.”

At the end of the hallway he enters a room and flips on a light switch. My first guess is that it’s a storage room more than an office. There are no windows but it looks like Paul moved a couch into the room at some point. I tighten my grip on the hatchet. Mom’s right, this guy could be a psycho but we’re not really in the position to go back out on our own right now.

A sleeping bag lies across the cushions and food wrappers fill the trash can. I notice several electronic devices plugged in the walls. We’ve only been on the road for twenty-four hours but I can already tell it’s not a terrible set up.

“You may want to shut the door. I can’t decide how much of the light filters out there or exactly how much it aggravates them.”

“Is there a bathroom?” Mom asks.

“Two doors down.”

“Alex, why don’t you come with me?” she suggests.

“I’ll be okay.” She doesn’t look pleased at this but I’m tired. And tired of being next to her. “Seriously, I’ll be okay.”

She drops her bag but I grab her by the arm. It takes me a minute to find my flashlight. I give it to her and say, “Take your bag and your gun.”