Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

Still shiny glass windows reflect back what’s left of the city, which now is nothing more than a burning shell. We crammed Walker into the cab with us and Cole climbs in the back of the cargo truck with the other men before we crossed the bridge into town. The risk of Eater attack is high, although at the same time, the entire city is disturbingly barren.

“Yep,” says Walker. “It’s pretty nice inside too. We’ll be safe.”

“Showers?” Chloe asks.

“A whole bunker underground. Bedrooms, showers, food, electricity,” she lists.

“Sort of like the base?” I ask. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

“But better.” She notices my expression. “Look, I know this is weird for you but I’ve worked for PharmaCorp for a long time. They’re not the bad guys. The world has just turned into a shitty place and they’re the only ones willing to fix it.”

“Sounds a little radical,” I say.

“Radical times, girlfriend.” She lifts her fist in the same gesture Richardson gave before falling to the Eaters. He’d also said something about “FF.” What did that mean?

She continues, “Once we get that antidote together, PharmaCorp, with their state of the art labs will be able to start shutting this thing down, but this time, all the shitty, murdering terrorists around the world will be gone and we can start over again.”

“Uh, yeah them and a whole lot of other people who didn’t deserve to die,” I say.

She shrugs in return. Shit. This girl bought into PharmaCorp’s view hook, line and sinker. I’m starting to realize Walker isn’t in this for the money like Wyatt but some other sense of deranged national pride.

The area surrounding the fortress looks like a complete warzone. Abandoned tanks, dead bodies. Roaming Eaters. Davis stands in the back of the cargo truck and signals to someone in the tower. A large metal gate begins to shift slowly to the side while armed guards line the top of the fence, guns ready.

Wyatt revs his engine and the walkie-talkie Walker carries crackles with his voice. “Wait here until I get the truck inside. They’ll do a sweep and re-secure the gate. Then you’ll get the signal to come inside.”

“Got it,” Walker replies.

His truck gains the attention of some of the Eaters nearby and they begin to follow with increased interest.

“I’ve got this,” Walker says pu

shing the back window open and leveling her gun.

“Ugh, just leave them. We’ll be inside in a minute,” Chloe says, with her forehead pressed to the window. I agree. We’re so close to being inside—being safe who needs the extra trouble?

The cargo truck disappears behind the gate and the walkie-talkie crackles to life again. “We’re inside. Proceed forward. Watch that group to the left. They’re a little agitated.”

“Let’s do this,” Walker says. I start the engine and begin to move forward once the man in the watchtower signals us in. There’s less than twenty feet between me and the gate when the first gunshots ring out from the wall.

“What was that?” I ask keeping my hands on the wheel and foot on the gas.

“Are they attacking the Eaters?” Chloe asks again looking out her window. “No, shit! Go! Alex, Go!”

The truck falls under a hail of bullets, pinging as they hit the ancient metal sides. I hear the back window snap, a shower of glass falling over our shoulders and we all duck.

“What the hell!” I scream, sparing a glance backwards to see where they’re coming from. The horizon grows dark as an army of military vehicles proudly displaying the American flag closes in. Erwin. He’s found us.

“Go! Go! Go!” Walker screams. The cab gets hot and I slam on the gas, pushing as fast as I can. We’re close and I have no fear we’ll make it in—I’m just not sure we can keep them out.

We burst through the gate and see that on the other side there isn’t much room. Wyatt’s truck is blocking our way and I have no choice but to slam on my breaks, crashing hard into the side of the green camouflaged vehicle. The front window splits and cracks on impact.

“You okay?” I ask, while checking the gate we just came through. The guards already have it locked down but there’s a battle going on outside. Like Erwin said. This is a war.

“I’m okay, but hey…Chloe,” Walker says. Her head is slumped over. She tilts her neck back and brushes her blonde hair out of her eyes. A thin sliver of blood runs from a wound on her forehead. Walker flips on the walkie-talkie and screams, “We need medical. Now!”

I jump out of the truck and race around the back. Bullet holes riddle the outside. Cole rushes over when he sees me. “What happened?”

“Chloe’s hurt! Something happened! Maybe when we crashed?” He’s gone before I can even move and I follow him around the passenger side of the truck.