***
The roar turns to a screech when the truck comes under attack. There are hundreds of E-TRs outside, maybe a thousand. We’ve got two soldiers, a couple of ninjas, a super lying-liar ninja named Wyatt, the twins and me. We’re screwed even if I do have my trusty hatchet back.
“Davis, man the roof,” Richardson barks. “Cooley, the back.”
The ninja named Davis springs into action and pushes a flap in the top of the canvas and pops out, taking his automatic weapon with him. Within seconds, he’s firing, spent shells raining down at his feet.
“What do we do?” I scream to Richardson.
“We fight,” he says. “You stay here—you’re precious cargo.”
Oh hell, the reality of his admission about working for PharmaCorp hits home. This is about getting me, the human lab test, to their bosses. I glance at Cole and its clear he’s caught on too
.
“Screw that,” I say. Cole nods while loading his bow. Chloe checks the gun she tucked in her waistband earlier, and then picks up a long blade. Bullets aren’t going to last very long with this crowd.. “Sitting by isn’t what kept us alive all this time—which by the way we managed to do okay before Erwin kidnapped us.”
Richardson stares at me for a minute and says, “Fine. We’ve got to distract these monsters.” He shoves a box in my direction and I drop to my knees to open it. “Grenades. Toss them as far as you can to the left of the truck. I’ll take the right.”
He uses a knife to rip open another hole in the roof.
“You two keep it clear down here,” he directs the twins. They nod and shift into position.
Standing, it becomes obvious that we have to get from where we are in the middle of the drive to the main road a hundred yards away. We can’t do it on foot—we’ll get eaten alive. Wyatt moves the truck forward slowly, rolling over the screaming ETR’s, while Walker and Davis pick them off as they climb over the hood of the truck.
The grenade feels small and compact in my hand. I spring the trigger like Richardson showed me and toss it as far away as possible. The orb sails through the air, landing in the middle of the swaying beasts. The second it lands the earth shakes with an explosion, a second comes from the other side and I clamp my hands over my ears on instinct. Before my eyes, Richardson’s words have come to life. We are definitely in a war. One side uses weapons—the other teeth.
The distraction works—at least a little and the mindless Eater’s shift toward the explosion. I wind up again and throw the next one in a different location, while I hear the grunts from Cole down below, beating off the closest ones with the butt of his bow.
Wyatt moves the truck forward slowly and I wipe my forehead, sticky with sweat and from the looks of it Eater blood. Maybe my own? I don’t know. My ears ring from gunshots and explosions. I reach for another grenade but Richardson hands me my hatchet instead and gestures for me to fight below. I drop down to help the twins and hack away at the ones trying to get inside.
Leaning over the back tailgate I chop away at the hands trying to get inside. Pale, dirty hands. Caked in blood and guts. Even over the sulfur they reek, no longer smelling like humans. The longer this virus holds on the less alive these people are.
Richardson bangs on the top of the cab. “Faster man, we’re running out of ammunition and time.” Wyatt picks up the pace, but that makes the back of the truck rock and lurch. The explosions have amped up the remaining Eater’s—they’ve got too much anger—hunger. I crack a female with long matted hair in the head with the hatchet and her head splits open like a melon. The insides are black with death.
God.
I look ahead and see that we’re close to the main road, and the hoard is thinning out. Carnage lies behind us, but we’re not completely in the clear. The truck drags from the bodies beneath it. Literal road kill.
“Hold on,” Wyatt yells from the cab. He shifts the truck into gear and again it lurches forward as he tries to dislodge the bodies. I fly forward landing face first on the dirty, hard tuck bed. Chloe screams and I scramble to get up but all I see are boots and feel a scuffle over my head.
“Chloe!” Cole yells as I roll to the side. An Eater has her by the neck, dragging her halfway out of the truck. Her feet kick in front of me, trying to hold on and I grab them, my muscles aching, to pull her back.
Cole moves fast and hard, slamming the butt of his bow into the Eater’s decaying head. Even from below I hear the crack and Chloe’s ragged breathing. The truck lurches again, this time faster and harder and everyone else tumbles to the bed with me. Everyone but Richardson who wobbles backwards. He reaches for something to hold on to but the ragged canvas top is too compromised. With a panicked, pissed off look in his face, he topples over the side of the truck.
“Get him!” Davis yells diving after him. Cole holds him back and God love him, Richardson jumps to his feet. He doesn’t even stop to assess the situation—the fact he’s so terribly outnumbered. He starts swinging, kicking ass and cracking skulls. He’s got a crazy smile on his face when the closest Eater’s descend—they’ve been waiting to sink their teeth in one of us all night and from the look on his face he’s been waiting to dish it out—one by one until he’s got nothing left. I reach for my hatchet, but Cole’s hand wraps around mine.
“Go!” Richardson screams at us, just as a massive Eater tears into his shoulder. He locks eyes with Davis and holds a fist in the air. “Do it for the FF!”
“No!!” Davis yells, but he’s also holding his fist in the air. Wyatt moves the truck forward, finally gaining full speed with the Eater’s occupied.
We’re driving away when the scream pierces my skull and I look away, down at my dirty pants covered in dust and blood. I should watch, acknowledge what he’s done for us, but I don’t. I’m weak and exhausted and this world has turned me into someone I don’t like.
***
The water in the pot is boiling—perfect to try to burn away the blood staining my hands, to wash my face…anything to cleanse the darkness of where we are.
“Are you okay?” Chloe asks. We’re in the bathroom together sharing the pot of water. She’s wearing only a bra and fatigues and the ring of bruises left by the Eater are clearly visible. No scratches…that I can see. “What did they do to you there?”