Resistance (Book 2): Resistant Page 4

  “Shit!” Dana screamed, throwing back her head. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Damn car thieves!”

  Chapter Six

  DANA SCANNED the street. The smoke clouded her vision and made seeing much farther than a few yards difficult. But she remembered seeing a car directly across the street from Hugo’s house, parked in the driveway.

  “Dana!” Hugo shouted. “Wait!”

  But Dana didn’t wait. Waiting was the last thing she should do. She ran across the street toward the driveway opposite, turning her head left to right to look for other cars in case the one in the neighbor’s drive wasn’t viable. There were none.

  Dana skidded to a stop, running too fast, as the car suddenly came out of nowhere. She barely managed to skid to a stop before running into it. She peered in through the windows.

  There was nothing inside. It was empty, clean. Dana coughed, barely able to control herself as her body doubled over in a coughing fit.

  Hugo came huffing and puffing out of the smoke. His eyes were burning red, bloodshot and painful. He wore a mask.

  “Here,” he said, handing a mask to Dana.

  She wrapped it around her mouth. Her breaths came easier, smoother. The mask made Hugo’s glasses mist up with his own breath.

  “This one looks good,” Dana said. “I should be able to hotwire it. And there’s some fuel in the tank. Enough to get us to a station.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be heading anywhere fast,” Hugo said.

  “Why not?” Dana said.

  She followed his gaze to the wheels. The axles were hitched up on wooden blocks, like a lady’s skirt over a dirty puddle.

  “Where are the wheels?” Dana said.

  Hugo shrugged.

  “I don’t know if he had any,” he said. “Mr. Sloane was always working on his pet project.”

  The smoke arrived in choking black waves. Each wave temporarily obscured their vision, stinging the eyes with the hot, acrid breeze.

  “It gets worse,” Hugo said.

  Dana looked up the street in the direction of the outskirts of town, opposite to the one they had driven to get here.

  Growing bright and larger than life was what might have been the birth of a new sun, except the burning ball of white was already high in the sky.

  The wind blew and a wave of smoke dissipated. It was a little way away, but even in the few seconds she watched it, Dana could tell it was heading quickly towards them: a wall of blazing fire, destroying everything in its path.

  “We’re never going to outrun it on foot,” Hugo said.

  He was right, of course. Fire could travel at the speed of blowing wind when it had a mind to, and as it blazed toward them now it was clear that that was precisely what was happening.

  They needed to run, not just to get away from it, but to cover most distance where they might discover a car they could use.

  Dana began at a jog, and kept up the pace. She had a deep frown on her face and could taste the smoke in her lungs. She couldn’t die here. Max needed her. She couldn’t let this happen. She lengthened her stride and used her arms to drive her legs forward.

  “What about the clothes and food?” Hugo said, voice already fading.

  Dana didn’t give him a reply. She wanted to save all her energy and whatever oxygen she could salvage from the intoxicating smoke around them for her escape.

  Hugo was a distraction. He was getting in the way. She wouldn’t let him stop her from rescuing Max. He was nothing to her. He wouldn’t pull her into the jaws of death just because he was too fat to escape.

  As Dana ran down the street she turned her head left to right, peering one way and then another, looking for cars, vehicles, buses, anything…

  And then she saw one.

  It was familiar—Hugo’s mother’s car. It had hit the curb and spun, leaving black skid marks on the street.

  Dana ran to the front of the car. It had struck a pylon, the front windscreen smash in, front fender dented, curled around the metal pole.

  Dana threw the driver’s side door open. The car thief still sat in the front seat, his head bloody and wrapped around the steering wheel. Dana started.

  It was the second man at the fake CDC checkpoint. How he’d gotten here, why, for what purpose, Dana didn’t know. He was probably still alive, not that Dana cared.

  She raised her boot and kicked at him, forcing him onto the passenger side of the car. Then she jumped into the driver’s seat. The man’s legs were still in the footwell. Dana shifted them back with her feet so they wouldn’t jam under the pedals.

  “Please God,” Dana said. “Please still work.”

  Dana turned the key in the ignition. The car wheezed and then choked into life. But Dana wouldn’t count her chickens yet. She wouldn’t celebrate until she was safely out of range of the fire.

  A gasping wheeze caught Dana’s attention. Finally, Hugo had finally caught up with her.

  “Dana!” Hugo shouted. “Look out!”

  His voice came from somewhere more distant than the figure standing right beside her.

  The wheezing form, whoever he was, could not be Hugo.

  Hugo’s shout had accomplished two things. One, warned Dana that he was not beside her, and two, let the creature know he was there. Hugo would have become his target, except Dana was already stepping from the car. She was blocked in by the car’s open door and the zombie in front of her.

  There was no escape for her. No way to get out of there. She had no weapon, no way to fight this monster. Then she saw what lay in the door’s pocket: the screwdriver the car thief must have used to jack the car.

  The zombie was burnt to a crisp, blackened and frying. Dana smelled what all cannibals must have salivated at. How, Dana didn’t know. The fact it was human turned her stomach. There was a flickering flame in its cheek, where it was still slightly aflame.

  Suddenly Dana knew why the man had lost control of his vehicle and slammed into the curb. This monster. Clearly not everyone was used to seeing them in the flesh yet.

  Dana seized the screwdriver, raised it up as the zombie turned back to her, and fell upon her. Dana positioned the screwdriver just so. There was a horrible squelching noise as the screwdriver entered its eye socket and pierced its rotten brain. It slumped to its knees and then fell to the side.

  Dana tossed the screwdriver, now blood-stained, back into the door’s pocket. She climbed into the car and shut the door. If Hugo didn’t get in soon, she would leave him behind.

  Dana put the car in reverse and spun the wheel, putting her in the middle of the road. She would not stop for Hugo. Not for a moment. He was gaining. He opened the door and jumped in. Dana hit the gas before he had a chance to shut the door, and whipped his leg up in time before the door slammed shut.

  The wheels squealed as the car took off like a bat out of hell. And now, finally, they were whizzing down the street, away from the flaming wall inferno. Dana let herself feel relaxed for the first time since they had stopped at Hugo’s home.

  Hugo was looking out the window, at the place that had been his home. He was looking at it for the last time in the form he had always known it. He might well be the last person to do so, as the flames would quickly turn it into charred rubble.

  A scream, female and high, joined the roaring of the flames that had ignited her body. She was alive, a living uninfected person, but that was soon to be rectified.

  “Dana…” Hugo said.

  “She’s already dead,” Dana said.

  “But she’s screaming,” Hugo said.

  “Her body hasn’t caught on to the fact yet,” Dana said.

  She let the woman’s screams wash over her, her subconscious filing them away for later consumption during her nightmares. The woman’s screams died before the undead reached her. Small mercies.

  The smoke was fading, but out of it came the flaming figures of the undead, running for safety like fleeing rats. Some of them were aflame, their hair and skin crackling, their clothes ci
ndered rags.

  One fell to her knees and then her front, the fire having extinguished her life. They didn’t pay much attention to the vehicle. They were too busy trying to escape than to feed.

  It was hard to gauge the progress of the fire from ground level, even once the smoke had thinned out. It was frustrating, knowing there was a bigger picture to be seen if only they had access to it.

  Finally, the smoke dissipated, rising like the removal of cataracts from an old man’s vision. Everything was crystal clear now.

  The car thief beside Dana in the passenger seat groaned. He was still unconscious.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Hugo said.

  “Toss him,” Dana said.

  “But he could be really useful,” Hugo said. “He might have skills we need.”

  Dana pulled the car to a stop, leaned over, opened the door, curled her leg, and shoved him out onto the pavement.

  “Maybe,” Dana said. “But I’d prefer to avoid the drama.”

  The instant the man was out, Dana hit the gas. They zipped along the street in the direction of the University of Washington.

  Chapter Seven

  THE FIRE might not have existed for all the activity they could see of it in the city’s center. Did the concrete, glass and metal structures have some kind of flame resistant properties that prevented the fire from spreading? Dana doubted it. An inferno was as powerful and unstoppable as any force of nature could be.

  “Do you think the fire will ever stop?” Hugo said. “Will it head this way?”

  “Who knows,” Dana said. “But it isn’t here right now. That’s something we can count on.”

  For now.

  Gunfire. Explosions. Somewhere to their left.

  It sounded distant, popping like a giant party was taking place.

  Dana slowed to a crawl. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of a building in the process of being renovated. Huge scaffolding structures clung to its face, like a mask. A crane stood sentinel.

  It was strange, Dana thought, to see these things that were meant to be temporary. Was that building now always going to remain in a state of half-repair, unbuilt, a ghost building?

  Even if some semblance of normality did return, it was difficult to imagine people simply picking up where they had left off. Too many people had been lost. Too much had been destroyed. It made Dana’s head swim, the things that would have to be begun again, re-organized and structured.

  The world was never going to be the same.

  Dana decided to play it safe and loop around the fighting. She didn’t want to face the battle. It would invariably end with failure for the soldiers. Another left, and they were once again heading in the direction of the university.

  Dana kept her eyes peeled, neck swivelling. Hugo assumed the same posture. They didn’t want anyone to get the jump on them. Not right then.

  The closer they got to the university grounds, the more intense the situation became, the more the muscles in Dana’s stomach twisted, the more she feared what she was about to face.

  The soldiers would be well trained, well armed, and spoiling for a fight they could win. And here they were, a nice little target heading right for them.

  And then she made the connection.

  The soldiers fighting in the city adjacent to their current location. The lack of defense surrounding the university.

  Dana increased pressure on the peddle and the car sped up. The buildings began to blur as they rushed by. Dana negotiated the turns around the rubble and destroyed vehicles, hell’s slalom course.

  “Woah,” Hugo said. “Slow down. We can’t check everywhere if you drive too fast like this.”

  “There’s nothing to keep an eye out for,” Dana said.

  Dana sped through the wire link fences that had been hastily installed to hold back the flood of undead. It was a thin and flimsy thing, probably the best they could find with short notice. Did they seriously think it could hold any of them back? It had been shredded like tissue paper by the flood of undead.

  Hugo leaned back in his seat, seatbelt tight over his chest and stomach. He grasped the sides of his seat, they were going so fast. Dana took the curbs and pressed the accelerator to the floor to race over the areas that couldn’t normally be driven on.

  Dana’s heart was thumping in her chest at the thought of what had happened in this place. The closer they got to the center, the heart of the university, the more wrecked the areas became. It was not looking good.

  The university grounds opened like an open wound. The university was large, focused around a central building complex. Dana hadn’t been to the university before—had never thought she would set foot on its hallowed grounds, but the layout of the buildings was simple enough.

  They came to the center of the facility. It was the main building, a large amount of rubble. The worst in the whole complex. This was where the majority of the fighting had taken place. Right here.

  The majority of the bodies that lay in the space were mostly felled infected, their bodies blown apart, destroyed beyond all recognition. There had once been a fountain, an ornate thing with angels and water flowing like honey. Now it was rubble.

  And worse, the smoke had descended upon them once again. It was thick and cloying and there was little they could see beyond their peripheries. They knew what was coming, and if they didn’t hurry, they would be too late to do anything about it.

  “Get out,” Dana said.

  She leapt from the car and took off toward the main building. She didn’t know that this was the right building, only assumed it was. It would be where the majority of the forces would have been located when it had been in full operation.

  “Quick!” Dana said.

  She said it to herself more than to Hugo, who was struggling with his backpack. It began to snow. Not with the beautiful flakes of winter, but scorched filaments of paper.

  Dana pulled her mask up over her mouth again and wished she had some water to dampen her mask with. She slammed into the glass door with the sole of her boot, blasting the door open. She kept her rhythm and was carrying herself forward with her weight.

  The world turned blood red and orange outside, like the sun was imploding, a rogue solar flare gone wild. It was the end of the world. The movement of air coming from the fire was strong, reminiscent of a hair dryer aimed at the skin.

  They vaulted the few steps that led to the huge main foyer. The glass in the doors and windows creaked and croaked, warping like heat coming off the jetway.

  Boom!

  Unable to take the pressure, the windows exploded, showering the vicinity with shards of glass.

  “Down!” Dana yelled.

  They dropped to the floor, cowering into as small a shape as they could, wrapping their arms over their heads. The glass rained like confetti, except this confetti had razor sharp edges.

  Dana was up the instant it ceased. She didn’t check her body, or else she would have noticed the half a dozen bloody grazes to her skin.

  “Up, up, up!” Dana said, already taking off.

  She wouldn’t wait for Hugo. She had somewhere to be and would get there with or without him.

  Without the protection of the glass, the building was fully exposed to the inferno. A thick tongue of fire seared the ceiling, running its fiery tendrils over the surface.

  Glass crunched under Dana and Hugo’s feet as they rushed toward the stairs that led into the basement. Dana’s ears rang painfully with tinnitus. She could hardly think.

  But she didn’t need to think. Neither of them did. They just needed to run, to get away. Nothing could live faced with that heat. Nothing.

  Dana rushed down the steps, and every few feet that she went down, she felt a tiny incremental lowering in the temperature. It was getting cooler and she knew then that if they were lucky—very lucky—they might just get through this.

  They came to the basement floor. There was a row of doors, each thick and plain, not like the deco
rative and beautiful doors on the first floor. These doors weren’t meant to be seen by visitors. They’d been built for purpose, to last a long time. Much better, Dana thought. She’d take purpose over design any day.

  Dana threw the door open, leapt inside, held it open a moment for Hugo, who rushed in behind her, and slammed the door closed.

  They stood there, in pitch darkness, puffing and panting, getting their breath back. It was cool in here, the air passing with confidence down their throats, sating them better than a glass of ice cold water.

  “Thank… Thank God… for… for that…” Hugo said between gulping mouthfuls of oxygen.

  Dana could hear the merriment in his voice. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one.

  Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  Chapter Eight

  DANA FELT along the wall. The door had to be here somewhere!

  Just a moment ago she had been relieved. They were finally somewhere safe. And now the door appeared to have disappeared, melting into the wall. They couldn’t see the handle. They were doomed.

  Suddenly, a burst of pure light.

  “There!” Hugo said. “The handle’s there!”

  Hugo had thought quickly, turning on the torch attached to his rifle. Dana cursed herself for not thinking of it herself, but not before she pressed the door and threw it open. It was one of those emergency exit doors where you push on it to release the lock. Dana practically fell through it and back onto the landing of the first basement floor.

  Hugo followed her. Dana caught sight of the grim reality of the undead in the light that illuminated the room. She slammed the door in their faces. They banged against it.

  Dana stepped back. There was no way the undead were going to fail to get through. One of them would accidentally push at the door at some point, out into the stairwell.

  There was nothing to lock the door nor block it with. They couldn’t worry about it now. They had to move on. The heat was already pervading the basement floor and it wouldn’t be long before it was scorched like the rest of the city.