Hollowland - Page 35/73

Since I was behind them, I could see the zombie jump out from behind a garage, but I couldn’t do anything except yell at Vega to watch out. She turned her head just as the zombie rushed at her, knocking her to the ground.

Sam went to pull his gun out, but it caught on his ammunition clip. I bolted forward and slammed into the zombie on top of Vega, tackling it before it bit into her. It tried to roll over to face me, clawing desperately at the gravel in the alley.

I grabbed an old car battery that happened to be sitting by us and lifted it over my head, preparing to use it crush the zombie’s head. Before I did, a gun went off, and the zombie’s head exploded on me.

“That’s better,” Sam said, his gun still pointed at the zombie. “Sorry it took me so long to get it out.”

“Thanks, but I could’ve gotten that myself.” I set the battery down and got up off the zombie corpse. “You didn’t need to waste a bullet.”

“We have plenty of bullets.” Sam turned, already walking away. “We should hurry. The zombies travel in packs now.”

“Are you okay?” I asked Vega as I wiped zombie brains off my shirt.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Vega replied in a clipped tone.

“It didn’t bite you?” I asked.

“No, it just knocked the wind out of me,” Vega shook her head.

“We don’t have time for this.” Sam glanced around, looking for hidden marauders. “We’ll check for bites at the compound.”

Since Sam wouldn’t slow down, I sped up and followed her, keeping my pace to match Lazlo and Harlow in case another zombie jumped out at us.

We rounded a large white building with pillars in front. It reminded me of the White House, but on a much smaller scale. Sam ran around the back, pushing away some carefully placed shrubbery, to reveal a set of heavy wooden cellar doors. He flipped them open, then gestured down the darkened hole with his gun.

“You want us to go down there?” Harlow asked peered down at the pitch black cement stairs.

“Yes. Hurry,” Sam said shortly.

Vega plummeted into the dark without batting an eye. Blue took a breath and followed her. I didn’t see that we had much of a choice, so I went too. When I started walking down, I felt Harlow’s hand squeeze mine, her slender fingers latching onto me.

When we finally reached the bottom, I realized it wasn’t completely dark. A dim yellow light glowed ahead of us, and then Sam slammed the cellar doors shut when he came down, submerging us

“This way.” Sam pushed past us.

He led us down a narrow hall, lit by a single kerosene lantern. At the end was a massive steel door, and he pounded on it. I tried to pull my hand from Harlow’s, but she refused to let go.

“Who is it?” a voice said from the other side of the door.

“Sam. Open up!” Sam shouted.

A moment of silence, followed by bolts clicking unlocked. The door opened, bathing the hall in bright light. Sam walked in, and we all followed.

It reminded me of any other basement. The walls and floor were brick and cement, and they had that cold, damp look to them. Kerosene lamps were placed all over the room, so it was actually well lit.

One wall was lined with old, moldy looking books on a metal shelves. A huge wooden table sat in the middle of the room, covered in papers and maps. In the corner, another table was covered with weapons; guns, knives, ammunition, pipes.

A doorway was off to the side, but I couldn’t see past it.

Sam went over to the weapons table to discard his own guns, without introducing us to the man and woman standing in the middle of the room.

The man looked to be about thirty with a confident, handsome face. He was dressed similar to Sam, his clothes dirty and worn. The woman had short blonde hair and a warm smile.

“I found them out in the streets,” Sam said absently as he unloaded his ammunition.

“Hello,” the man extended his hand, first to Blue, then to me, shaking our hands. “I’m London, and this is Hope.”

“Hello,” the woman smiled at us but didn’t move forward.

“This is our compound.” London gestured to the room around him. “You all look very worn. How long have you been travelling?”

“Awhile,” I answered vaguely, unsure of the exact amount of time that’d passed.

“They had a run-in with the marauders,” Sam said. He leaned up against the weapons table, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The marauders?” Lazlo asked.

“The men with guns in black camouflage,” London clarified. “They raided an army base, and they’ve been trying to rule the town with nihilistic brutality. We’ve been maintaining a stronghold against them.”

“Remy shot some of them,” Lazlo said, almost proudly. “How many did you kill?” He looked to me for confirmation, but I shook my head.

I swallowed hard and clenched the fist that didn’t have Harlow’s hand. I wasn’t about to brag about anything I had done when Lia had died. I had failed, and four uninfected people died today. Anger flared in me like I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I’d been forced to kill healthy humans, and even if it had been in self-defense, I didn’t like it. We had so few people left in this world, and it was such a horrific waste.

“We lost… someone.” Harlow sniffled next to me.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” London said earnestly.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and get some rest?” Hope suggested. “You all look so exhausted.”