Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Plague 11: The Outbreak ❯ Rescue Mission ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter 8: Rescue Mission
A lone zombie limped into the highway. He fell down next to another body and began chomping on it. A loud humming sound filled the road and started coming closer. The infected looked up and let out a confused groan. The cargo truck carrying John and his friends flew at it and crushed it beneath the tires with a sick pop and crack. It had been a day since the departure from Mesa and they were now in Utah. Now, the team was making a huge risk. The highway they were on led straight to Salt Lake City. Going into the city was suicide and they all knew it. But if they were to get to California in time, no detours could be taken.

They passed a green sign on the side of the highway indicating that they were only four miles from the city. John sat in the back with Trent and Lauren. He was letting his mind wander about his parents. He didn't want to admit it, but the chances that they were alive at this point were not good. No sign of them was found in a week. John wondered how his whole family was doing. He thought about his grandprents, living in Vermont, his aunt and uncle that lived in Manhattan, and his sister, who was away at college. He stopped thinking instantly. After a minute, he gathered his thoughts. Vicky is at college. She goes to University of Utah, which is located in..... oh god, he snapped.

"Stop the car!" he yelled loud enough for Andrews to hear from inside of the cab.

The truck haulted to a stop. Andrews grabbed his chainsaw and jumped out. Quickly scanning the area, he ran to the back and opened the door. "What the hell did you stop us for?" he asked.

John slid out of the cargo compartment and looked off into the city. "I need to ask a huge favor. I need to get to the University of Utah. My sister's there and I need to get her out." John explained.

"No!" Andrews said, "No way in hell! That's suicide! We'll be dead within seconds."

"He's right, man." Trent added, "That wouldn't be smart."

"Guys, come on! I need to help her. Please?" John pleaded.

"I don't know, John...." Lauren murmured.

John took a deep breath. He looked them all in the eye. "Trent, when we were at the camp and you found your parents, you were so relieved and happy. And so were you, Lauren. You guys were so thrilled to see your family. But my parents weren't there. And I've been freaking out, thinking about my family. At least let me get closure about my sister. Please!"

They were quiet for a minute. Trent simply nodded and climbed back into the truck. Lauren looked from John to Andrews and back again. Andrews had a large frown on his face. "Are you telling me that you want to go into a capital city and get to theat college campus, so we can save your sister, who might not even be alive? And all that with minimal weaponry?" he snapped at John.

John nodded while staring at the ground. He glanced up at Andrews who closed his eyes and shook his head. "Damn it... Fine! Let's go! But if we get stuck, I'm freakin' killin' you!" Andrews threatened.

The truck descended on Salt Lake City quickly. Andrews looked ahead and saw the streets were filled with cars, burning debris, and, of course, the undead. Pressing the gas, ANdrews plowed through the infected, swerving to miss all the other cars in the streets. They passed hundreds of burning stores and buildings. After almost half an hour of driving, they passed a sign that read: UNIVERSITY OF UTAH AHEAD. But the closer they got to the school, the larger the crowds of zombies grew. Andrews figured that the would have to ditch the truck in order to get to the school.

The truck turned toward a parking lot. As it pulled into the zone, the tires slashed and popped from a set of anti-theft blades on the ground. The truck buckled and stopped moving. Andrews slammed the dashboard and cursed loudly. He looked out the window and saw a few zombies running toward the truck. He grabbed the chainsaw and weed wacker and leaped from the cab. With two swings of the chainsaw, the enemies fell to pieces. He rounded the vehicle and swung the door open. "Get your weapons and let's go! Now!" he yelled.

John, Trent, and Lauren grabbed their items and slid out of the back. As more undead came running up, John swung and took one's head off. They all made a mad dash to the huge buildings of the campus. Trent aimed at all the oncoming monsters and fired a series of nails into their skulls. Andrews revved the engine on the chainsaw and slid it into another zombie. Their running grew more frantic as more zombies flowed after them. Even Trent was using his bad leg normally. John swung his machete at an infected in his blind spot and pulled back. His hands came back empty handed. Looking back, he saw the corpse laying on the ground with the machete embedded in its skull. John wanted the weapon, but he had to keep running.

Andrews sliced more zombies until the chainsaw sputtered its last bursts of power. He threw the tool down and cursed aloud, reaching onto his back. He pulled the weed wacker loose and pulled the cord. The three wires at the end of the weed wacker spun at such a speed, that anything that touched it would be torn to shreds. He guided it into the crowd and watched as a plume of blood flew into the sky. He kept running with the group and after ten minutes of non-stop running, they reached a building.

Lauren pulled a door open and they ran inside. She shut the door and locked it from the inside. They took a short breather, heaving and huffing. They almost had lost it all. But they made it. They were drained and tired, but they made it. John and the others then read Andrews' mind. Getting back to the truck would be impossible. Sounds came from a floor above and they decided to climb the staircase that filled the room.

The walls were a peach-like color. After a few flights of stairs, they found another door. John pulled the two smaller blades on his back out of their covers and pushed the door open. He was followed by Trent, who held the nailgun and then Lauren and Andrews. There was someone moving through the hall ahead. John moved quickly and turned the corner. It was a man, but his back was to them. "Hey! Say something!" John called to him.

He turned around and looked at them. "I'm human." he said.

He was a student at the school. The other students had been able to survive the crisis and were just biding their time. John and the others followed the college student down to a huge room where hundreds of other students sat and conversed. They made their way to the center of the room and discussed a way to get out. John, however, had a different vendetta for now. He turned to the guy who led them to the room. "Hey, I'm looking for my sister. Her name's Vicky Thompson. Have you seen her?" he asked.

"Oh, Vicky? Yeah, I'll go get her for you." he said, walking away.

John's mind was pulled from the clouds of doubt and fear. He sat down and waited with his friends. After around ten minutes, John saw a familiar face. It was Vicky. He stood up and ran over to her. They embraced and talked about the past week. "Have you heard from Mom or Dad?" John asked.

"No... I wqas hoping you had. That's horrible." she said as tears filled her eyes.

John knew he had to keep spirits high. "I'm sure they're fine, Vicky." he assured her.

After a few hours of catching up, Vicky was filled in on the plan for California. She agreed with them, but needed some time to prepare. She filled them in on a good route that would lead to a set of trucks. "We just need to go from here to the food court. Then we'll head stright to the campus police office, and from there, to the delivery parking lot." she showed them, using a wall-mounted map.

Trent pointed out that they could gather some weapons, if any, in the police station. But there was one problem: From the food court to the police station, they had to go across an outside courtyard. It was a risk. Almost too big of a risk, but it was their only chance. They looked around while Vicky got ready and saw the other students. Some looked scared and others calm. There was no telling how bad this was going to get, but John knew that waiting around for something like the students were. Action needed to be taken.

They passed by a pair of college students playing pool. As one lined up his cue stick and shot, the ball flew off of the table. Like a magnet, it traveled and struck Trent right on the bandage on his leg. Trent let out a grunt of pain and stumbled down. John and Lauren knelt down to aid him. "Are you okay, man?" John asked. His eyes widened as he saw a red stain spill about underneath the bandage. Trent groaned in pain as they pulled the filthy wrap off and reapplied a new bandage. He stood up and started walking. He now had to keep the weight off of his leg, causing him to limp. Finally, Vicky came back with a bag.

"You guys ready to go?" she asked.

"Yeah. Let's go before it gets too late." John said.

Vicky led them into the food court. It was completely empty and had a large set of glass doors and windows on the far end. Vicky showed them the campus police station just a short run across the courtyard. They gripped their weapons tightly. John passed one of his machetes to Vicky to use and walked across the room. He approached the door and looked at the infected that were rubbing against the door, smudging it with blood and dirt. He looked one in the eyes. There really was nothing there. He turned back and returned to his friends. After some discussion they figured out a plan to clear the doors. Using the three remaining bottles of turpentine, they soaked the doorway and two main glass doors. Lauren flicked the lighter and gave a thumbs up. Andrews pushed the doors open as forcefully as he could. Lauren threw the lighter at the flammable liquid on the floor and doors. The doorway lit up in flames and all the undead backed away.

John started running at the doorway, followed by Andrews and Lauren and Vicky, who were helping Trent move faster. John hacked at the attackers rapidly. Andrews fired up the weed wacker and slammed the spinning blades into a number of zombies. Lauren swung her hatchet at them, cutting them down to size. While Vicky tried to fight off the infected, Trent pressed the trigger on his nailgun and fired more steal pegs into the creatures. Vicky swung the machete and sliced the throat of a zombie, making it squirt blood across her arms. She swung again and the machete was released from her grip, the blood acting as an unwanted lubracent. The blade sailed away, far out of her reach. As more zombies began to swarm them, Trent shot the last of his nails into the monsters' heads. "Get over to John!" Trent called to Vicky as he started clipping in a new chain of nails.

Vicky ran forward. Trent slipped the expended chain out and started applying a new load. As he snapped in the nails, he looked up and gasped. A zombie stood infront of his. He tried to move to shoot, but there wasn't enough room to aim the gun. He screamed both in his mind and out loud as the zombie bit him in the space between the base of his neck and his shoulder. As he felt the teeth sink in, he mustered up a vocal yelp. "JOHN!" he yelled.

John turned around and saw the horror that betook his friend. He ran at the zombie screaming loudly. "NO! No, get off him! Trent!" he yelled.

Hacking and slashing the monster, he eventually was able to sever the head. He pulled the body away from Trent, who was bleeding profusely. Trent stared up at John in a deathly daze, tears rolling down his face. The tears found their way into John's eyes as well. He began lifting his friend and carryed him quickly across the courtyard. Andrews and Lauren cleared the way. They all had the same look of dread in their eyes. Even Andrews seemed struck deeply.

They made it into the buildinga nd closed the door behind them. John brought Trent into a small office and layed him out on a desk. Trent grabbed for the chunk missing near his neck, trying to stop the intense blood flow. John ran out of the room and returned immediately with a bundled up clothe. He pressed it against the wound and kept repeating aloud that everything would be okay. The others ran into the room to check on Trent. There was seemingly no end to the blood. John was on the brink of hyperventilating. He kept checking on the wound in hopes that it would somehow stop bleeding and fix itself. Finally, Trent grabbed his hand and pushed him back slightly. "John, stop." he coughed out. "There's nothing you can do. I'm not going to make it."

"Don't say that! We can find a way to save you!" John cried.

"No you can't. There's only one thing you can do. You have to stop me before I become one of them and kill you." Trent said weakly.

John turned to the others with a look that told them what he could manage to say. The nodded and left the room. John shut the door and turned to his friend. He looked around and saw a gun resting in a holster that was hung on the wall. He pulled the weapon out and sat down next to Trent. He looked at him and back at the gun. "Do you remember back a few years ago when we went cazmping out in the woods. That crazy guy with the magnum was walking through the woods and passed our camp site. You remember what you said when he looked at us and ran off?"

"Yeah..." Trent said, "I said.... 'Man, I really hope we don't die tonight.' That guy never came back, did he?"

"Nope.... I stayed up thinking he was gonna come and gun us down. But he didn't. And we didn't die that night." John grew silent for a moment. As tears breached his eyes and flowed down his cheeks, he finally said, "Trent.... I- I'm so sorry I didn't get to you in time.... If I had known sooner, even a second sooner, I could have saved you. I know I could have found a way past this.... I'm sorry, man."

"No, John. You did the best anyone could h-have done. You're not a superhero. You can't s- save us all. You've always had my back and this time wasn't different. But at least I didn't go out lonely. I keep thinking about my p- parents. I never saw them after we got away. I wasn't there to save them either. But at least I was lucky enough to be saved... well sort of. But I want to thank you for trying to help me. If it weren't for you, man, I- I wouldn't have made it this far."

John let his head fall into his palms. "Oh God, Trent..." he spoke in an extremely shaken voice and through sobs.

"John, I just want to s- say that you're my best frie..." Trent fell silent.

John looked up at him. The room was very quiet. Almost a scary quiet. A sound came from the body of John's best friend. "Trent?" he asked.

Outside, Andrews approached Lauren, who was also sobbing. He sat down next to her. Vicky was across the room, deep in thought. She hadn't know Trent much, even when she lived in Hunton City. But she couldn't help feeling an unending sadness for her little brother. Andrews looked at Lauren thoughtfully. "You okay, kid?" he asked. She sat there for the longest time and then spoke. "I only knew them for a little more than a week. But we connected. And I can't help feeling horible. I really hope John can pull through this. He and Trent were best friends. I watched them talk for hours about different things. I can't even begin to imagine how John is feeling." she said.

They all jumped as a horridsnarling sound came from the room next to them followed by a single, loud gunshot that echoed through the halls. They stood up slowly and turned to the door. Andrews turned the knob and pulled it open. John had fallen to the ground with the gun in his hand, smoke rising from the barrel. He had never ending tears pouring from his eyes and his breathing was in an almost gasping style. Trent's zombified body lay on the other side with a bullet hole in his head and blood and brains splashed across the wall. Lauren let out a miserable cry and knelt down to John. She embraced him as they both mourned over the loss of someone dear. It was something unexpected that they almost didn't want to admit happened. But whether they wanted it or not, there was no way out of this reality. Trent was dead.

Andrews walked into the back of the small station and found a weapon stash. He carried the heavy box back to the main room and dropped it the floor. After almost an hour of silence, sobs, and sulking they decided to move on. John hated the idea of going back out into the hundreds of zombies. He wished he could close his eyes and things would return to normal. But they wouldn't. Andrews walked up to him. "Look, we gotta go. I know you're goin' through some tough stuff, but if we don't get out of this city, we'll all become a freakin' zombie. So grab a gun and let's go." Andrews said.

John moved to the box and pulled out a set of pistols. After a moment of staring at them, he slipped them into his belt and stepped aside. Andrews has already pulled a shotgun out from the box and was loading it, shell by shell. Lauren and Vicky each eqipped themselves with the remaining pistols and they started making plans. Vicky showed them the hatch that led to the roof of the building. From the top of the station, they could see the delivery lot just on the other side of a fence that was only a short walk away. Vicky led them to the edge where a small metal ladder was built into the wall. One by one, they climbed down as fast as possible. John landed on the ground and pulled out his two pistols. As the zombies came running up, he fired shot after shot into their heads. Andrews landed and blasted his shotgun at the crowd. Lauren came next and shot as well. She wasn't as graceful as the others were and missed most shots.

John and Andrews ran to the fence. As Lauren ran up, they hoisted her up and over the metal blockade. John pushed Andrews up onto the fence and yelled back to Vicky. "Sis, we're going! Get a move on!" he said loudly.

John started climbing the fence and was soon joined by Vicky. After he made his way up and over the fence quickly, he looked back to check on his sister. She was almost to the top. Vicky pushed off once more with her left foot, extending her leg. John was relieved for only a split second as horror met his eyes once more. A zombified hand reached out of the pit of death and cast a tight grip on her foot, causing her to stumble down slightly. Several more hands flew up to grasp her. John pulled out the pistols and started firing through the fence. But eventually he had exhausted both clips. "John, help me!" Vicky screamed as she was pulled farther down.

John ran up and tried climbing to save Vicky. But hands shot through the holes in the fence, causing him to jump back. Vicky was eventually pulled down far enough for a zombie to jump and sink its teeth quickly into her ankle. She shrieked loudly as she fell victim to the infected and released her grip from the fence. She fell and disappeared into the sea of undead. One final scream rang out and then silence descended on the world. John fell to knees and looked on in an almost lost mind. He had no thoughts. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even manage to move.

Andrews and Lauren looked back and saw John had fallen and Vicky was gone. The fence started shaking and swaying under the pressure of the infected. Andrews ran as fast as he could and grabbed John forcefully. He almost had to drag him to the nearby vehicles. Lauren looked around and saw something better than a delivery truck: it was a large RV. She alerted Andrews and they ran to the mobile fortress. They pulled at the door and, to their surprise, it opened. Lauren ran inside and Andrews followed. He layed John down on a seat and jumped into the driver's position. He checked around the area for a key, but no key was found. Lauren slammed the door closed as the fence came crashing down. "Andrews, if you're gonna do something, do it now!" she said.

Andrews ripped the bottom cover off of the steering collumn and pulled out two wires. He took the severed blue and yellow wires and pushed the exposed cables into each other. The engien hummed for a minute before roaring to life. Andrews pressed down on the gas pedal and the RV took off, smashing through all the zombies that had run it its path. They broke out of the parking lot and drove back into the city. From there, they flew through the streets until they came to the highway. Once there, they drove fast, escaoing their doom one more time. Andrews followed the highway back into the country side and watched the signs to be sure he was headed west.

John sat in the seat for the ride in silence. His thoughts had returned. But all he could think was how nothing would shake him from this impact. Trent was gone. Vicky, his own sister, was gone. All he had left was two team mates, of whom he only truely trusted Lauren. The only thing to do now was to get to California. John had talked with Trent of their plans for after they escaped the country. Now he didn't care about plans. He just wanted to get out.