Zombie Rage (Walking Plague Trilogy 2)

“Does he have any extra bullets?” Jared asked her. She was about to ask why, he could tell. “Just to be on the safe side. We don’t know when we’ll be back.”

“All right,” Anna couldn’t stop thinking about the animal killings. Those poor, beautiful animals that depended on the zoo staff to take care of them. She fought down her anxiety. She wanted to be good. She knew her father wanted her safe. And Jared, too.

Anna stepped into her father’s room and brought back the box of ammo he kept in his dresser. Jared made sure the gun was loaded and ready to go. He put up a brave front for her. He hadn’t told her that he couldn’t get in touch with his own parents. That would be just one more thing for her to worry about. There was nothing to be done about it anyway, he supposed.

“Better get a jacket,” he said. “The fog’s going to be heavy tonight.”

Anna, feeling a touch of rebellion, grabbed a sweatshirt instead.

They started walking up the tree-lined streets toward the Greek Theatre. It would have been a nice walk. Except for the fog. Except for the fear of what Anna was now calling zombies.

“They don’t act like zombies,” Jared kept up the conversation. Even though they were talking about some crazy shit, it felt good just to talk. But the fog was rolling in quickly now, and their voices echoed in the mist. They found themselves speaking softly.

“I know, weird symptoms,” Anna agreed. “But then they want to kill. Mike almost killed my father.”

The way leading up to the Greek Theatre was unusually quiet. Normally, people were out walking their dogs or going for a run. On this evening, Anna and Jared were alone.

“True,” Jared said, “but then he got cured.”

“Yeah. Not enough information, I guess. Maybe we can go online again if we can get into the observatory.”

“Right,” said Jared, taking her hand. He was getting a little nervous. All of the houses were locked up tight, a minimum of lights on.

Suddenly, Anna stopped. “Shh,” she whispered, glancing behind them.

They stood silently. Somewhere back there in the dense fog, they heard a sound. Distant but definitely there. Like something dragging along the street.

“Shit,” Jared said. “Come on, Anna.”

They started running, still holding hands in the fog and descending dark. Just a few blocks to go, Jared told himself. They could now only see about ten feet in any direction.

They were moving as silently as they could, not only to remain unheard but to listen.

Jared stopped abruptly, yanking Anna back. Up ahead, and close. The same dragging sound...

They froze. Behind them, now in front of them.

“The trail,” Anna whispered.

Jared remembered her father’s instructions...except the trail seemed their only option now. “What if we get lost? Carla’s waiting.” I hope to God she is, he added to himself.

Anna was about to answer when it materialized before them, seemingly out of the fog itself, moving slowly straight for them. Human but not human, gnashing its teeth, eyes blood red.

Anna screamed. Jared let go of her hand, took off the safety, and drew up the pistol.

He aimed for the head and squeezed the trigger.

Chapter Twenty-five

The head exploded.

Blood and brain spattered as the zombie fell to the ground, twitching, then lying still. Jared couldn’t believe what he had just done but there was no time to think about it. Because Anna had bolted for the trails.

Jared took off after her. He didn’t know these trails as well as she did. But he had to get to her. Sweating, panting, he rounded a corner and tripped over a rock, crashed into the brush. The gun slipped out of his hand.

It was almost fully dark now.

“Anna!” he yelled out. He moved his shaking hands out in front of him. The gun, I have to get the gun I have to get the—”

Anna shrieked somewhere in the distance. Jared’s instincts were to run toward her cry. But he needed that gun. He heard footsteps ahead of him, coming fast.

“Shit, oh, shit!” He was coming undone.

He made one last effort, moving his hands around on the ground. His right hand fell on cold steel. He picked it up, rose up, and Anna came crashing into him.

“Jared!” she sobbed.

Jared swore to himself he would not let go of that pistol ever again. He put one arm around her.

“Another one,” Anna tried to whisper. She was hysterical now. “Up ahead.”

He put a shaking, dirty finger to his lips.

Anna tried to slow her uneven sobs. It was too late. The dragging, it was the noise of dragging feet.

“They’re in front of us,” she whispered.

“And behind us,” he replied softly.

She shook her head nearly uncontrollably, losing it herself.

The teenager thought quickly. He shushed her again, took her hand, and guided her off the trail. They found a scrub oak and hid behind it. Their hearts were pounding; they barely dared to breathe.

They could hear them on the trail. Three or four by the sound of it, Anna figured. They met where Jared had fallen and Anna had run into him. The two teens held their breath, not daring to move. They listened to moaning, snarling, snapping jaws, and then the slow dragging of their steps as they faded into the night.

“Ohmygod, Jared, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answered miserably. I actually shot someone. He pushed away the memory of exploding brains. “Calm down, let’s just calm down.”

For once, she listened to him. Jared held the gun tightly, listening. It was quiet. For now. “Let’s go back to the street. Maybe they’ve moved on.”

“We can’t go back to the street! They’re waiting, I know they are!”

“We can’t use the trails,” he countered. “In the street, we have a better chance of dodging them. I think they respond to noises.”

“But Jared—”

“Look. We’ll be quiet. Like cats, all right? Carla’s coming for us. And she won’t be on the trails; she’ll be in a car. That will be safe, to be in a car.”

“But—”

God, he was tired of arguing with her. He gripped her hand and guided her back to the trail. “Take us to the road. You know the way back better than I do.”

Anna understood the tone in his voice. Finally, she nodded and led him by the hand, slowly. Listening, always listening for movement.

It didn’t take long to reach the road. The rows of houses were behind them. They could barely see an occasional street lamp through the fog. The lights were of little comfort.