Dead South | Book 2 | Dead Lies Page 12

  He turned and aimed the gun, firing at the zombies. This was going to be it. Jon could sacrifice himself here and take out as many of the bastards as he could before he became one of them.

  But, suddenly, he was being pulled up as he heard gunshots ring all around him. Once he was on his feet, he looked over to see Terrence. The rest of the group, led by Brooke and Raylon, were firing at the zombie horde.

  “Come on,” Terrence said, pulling at Jon’s shirt.

  The group continued to offer cover fire and back up to the prison as Jon worked to gain his composure. He remained in a slight daze from the fall, but had managed to hold himself together well.

  He made it to the door with Terrence and some of the others, and went through. The rest of the group continued to offer defense and fire, taking down several more of the zombies or knocking them back and preventing them from advancing any farther.

  When they got inside, Jon stumbled down to the ground, catching himself with his good arm. The pain from the fall hit him, but he worked his way through it with heavy breaths.

  The rest of the group came through the door next, continuing to scream and fire as the horde outside howled.

  Raylon was the last one through, and he slammed the door shut. It muted the sound outside, making it to where you could only hear the people’s heavy breaths inside the prison.

  Several seconds later, though, a slam sounded against the door.

  The zombies beat on it, but they weren’t getting inside.

  30

  The zombies beat against the door like a war drum. Raylon stood with his back against it as if he were keeping it shut, but there was no way the creatures were getting through it. His weight against it made no difference.

  Light spilled into the space through a couple of windows. There were a few chairs in the waiting area, which were currently occupied by a couple of people catching their breath, including Hugo. A receptionist’s desk sat behind a glass shield, only to be accessed by a secure door. Jon scanned the faces in the room. The entire group was safe. Miraculously, everyone had made it into the prison alive.

  Thankful everyone was alright, Jon subconsciously grabbed his hurt arm. He looked down to make sure his sleeve hadn’t ripped and that the wound hadn’t bled through. For the time being, it looked fine. He wasn’t so worried about the blood. He could play that off as part of the motorcycle accident.

  “Jon,” Brooke said, coming to him.

  He jerked a little, still paranoid about the bite wound and not wanting her to find out about it. But she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close.

  “Jesus, I thought you were....” She couldn’t finish her thought.

  “Just a close call. Thanks for helping me out.”

  “You were in a bad way,” Terrence said, walking over and offering his hand to help Jon stand. Jon accepted, and Terrence pulled him up. His body ached as he stood, the accident starting to catch up with him.

  “It’s over now, and we’re all good,” Jon said. He looked at Raylon. “We need to start checking this place out.”

  “I agree.” Raylon turned to a couple of the people in his group and asked them to stay near the door as a precaution.

  Raylon opened the door leading out of the room. They hadn’t heard any zombies on the other side, but he opened it cautiously anyway. He poked his head through, shining his flashlight and pointing it around to scan the area.

  “It looks clear,” he said. “But we should be careful. We should split up into small groups,” Raylon said. “That way, we can cover more ground.”

  “I agree,” Brooke said. She looked at Jon and Terrence. “We should go together.”

  “And I’ll take the other group from Hope’s Dawn,” Hugo said.

  “Groups of three would be perfect,” Raylon said. “We should scour the place and then meet back here in about an hour. That should give us more than enough time.”

  The full group soon started down a dark hallway. There were doors on either side, and Raylon directed one of the trios to hang back and check those rooms. The rest of the group continued down the hallway. Raylon pointed the flashlight at the door at the end of the hall. Posted on the wall next to the door was a sign that read A Block. Raylon encouraged the group to be silent for a moment, and put his ear up against the door.

  Jon listened, and he heard no zombies on the other side. That didn’t mean there weren’t any. Jon now knew all too well about that. He’d learned the zombies slept, and if the prison had remained empty for a long time, the creatures could be waiting around any corner for their opportunity to awaken and feed.

  Raylon turned the handle and pushed the door open, and they walked into the cell block.

  In front of them stood a row with cells on either side. A second level was above it, accessed by nearby stairs, with another line of cells matching the number seen below. Sunlight came into the space through windows high on the walls to both Jon’s left and right. But the thing that instantly hit Jon was the smell.

  “Jesus,” Terrence mumbled, putting his forearm over his nose.

  Jon followed his friend’s gaze and saw the remains of what had been a human body sprawled across the ground to his left. The tattered clothes were the only thing offering any sign of the human being that had once been there. Covering his nose, Jon walked over to the body and kneeled down. There was almost nothing left; the person had likely been long dead, dating back to when the outbreak had first started three years ago. But the pieces of clothing gave Jon enough of an indication to who had been occupying them.

  “Looks like, from the clothes, it was a prison guard.”

  “Do you think those things outside got them before they escaped?” Hugo asked.

  “There’s no way to know for sure,” Raylon said.

  “Everyone just stay on your toes,” Jon said. “These things sleep, and they’re surprisingly quiet when they do. My guess is that most of the zombies ended up outside, but we need to be alert just in case.”

  “Let’s go ahead and split up,” Raylon said. “Again, we’ll meet back in about an hour at the front.”

  “We’ll take this side,” Brooke said, gesturing to their right.

  Jon took the lead as Brooke and Terrence followed him to the far right side of the room. He had the flashlight in his hand, but there was enough sunlight creeping in through the caged windows for him to see where he was going. Looking down at the concrete floor, he noticed the bloodstains. They had darkened patches of the floor. Even with the large horde occupying the land around the prison walls, Jon found it surreal that, apparently, no one had been inside the place since the outbreak. What with how much the world had changed and deteriorated, this was almost like walking into an old tomb. And he hoped to find treasures lying within its depths.

  They reached the far row of cells, and another stench hit them. Jon stretched his forearm over his face, blocking the smell. The remains of at least three other people lay on the ground, scattered down the row of cells. Remains of clothing littered the entire aisle, making it impossible to tell exactly how many bodies were there. The zombies had picked them clean, assuring that almost nothing was left but some old tissue over bones.

  “I can’t even imagine what it had to be like to be here,” Brooke said.

  “Thank God we weren’t,” Terrence said.

  Jon pointed to a door down to the right. “Let’s head down and go through there. I don’t think we’re going to find anything here in the block.”

  They walked down the aisle, and Jon peeked in each cell as they passed. Almost all of the doors were open. Some of the cells still held the personal possessions of the people who’d occupied them, including photographs on the walls, clothes, blankets, and pillows sprawled on the beds. Corpses even occupied a few of the cells, including one locked one where someone had apparently been trapped inside. This person had appeared to have starved, which might have been a better death than to be eaten by zombies. Terrence walked closer to the cells, investiga
ting them for anything useful. Jon let him, but stopped looking inside the cells halfway down the row. He didn’t think they’d find anything here, and hoped the door they were heading to would lead somewhere more promising.

  When he reached the door, Jon glanced at his friends and put his finger up to his mouth, urging for them to be silent. He placed his ear against the door and, like before, heard nothing.

  “Sounds clear,” he whispered.

  “Then let’s see what’s on the other side,” Brooke said.

  Jon readied the flashlight and turned the knob, then pushing through.

  31

  The room had lower ceilings than the cell block. There were a few windows that Jon could reach if he stood on the tips of his toes. Each had steel bars over it, but he was glad they were there to bring some light into the space. There were also tables, each secured to the floor, and some shelves with books and board games. Many of the shelves’ contents had been dumped onto the floor.

  “Looks like a recreational area,” Terrence said.

  “That’s not going to do us much good,” Brooke said. “We need bandages, not books.”

  Jon flashed the light down to his left and saw a single door at that end of the hall. Then, he turned and looked down to the other end of the hall, where he saw a large doorway covered with a cage.

  “Terrence, why don’t you go check on that small door to the left and see what that is?” Jon asked, then looking at Brooke and gesturing toward the cage door at the other end of the room. “Let’s head this way and check that out.”

  They stepped carefully over debris. Books, magazines, and pieces of board games lay amongst more decrepit corpses. Jon hated how he could step over the dead bodies without thinking much of it. If they didn’t have their humanity, what else was there? Of course, he knew he soon wouldn’t even have that.

  “How often does it hurt?”

  Jon looked over at Brooke, his lips parted. He put his hand over his arm with the bite wound as if trying to cover it up.

  “What?”

  “Carrie and Spencer,” Brooke clarified. “Knowing that they’re gone.”

  Jon exhaled, trying to do so without being obvious. He then tried to digest the question she’d asked so that he could answer, though it was simple.

  “All the time.”

  “Do you think it’ll ever get to the point where it doesn’t hurt all the time?”

  Jon shrugged. “I hope so, but I don’t know for sure. I know that it’ll always hurt in some way. I’ll never get over what happened. But I do hope that I can get to a place where it doesn’t pain me all the time.”

  Brook soaked in the response. “I didn’t feel a damn thing when Peter left and never came back. I guess that says a lot about how I felt about him. I’d already grieved that relationship. It was already dead to me. But I just don’t know what I’d do if something happened to…” she trailed off, unable to get the name out of who she was thinking of. But Jon knew. He put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Nothing is going to happen to Lucas,” he said, filling in the name for her. “I promise.”

  “See, but that’s the thing,” she replied. “You can’t promise that. No one can. I’m not sure I can even look him straight in the face and promise that anymore. I mean, did you do that with your son?”

  Jon stared back at her with no words. So much of what she had said struck him. Not only the fact that she’d brought up his inability to guarantee Spencer’s security, but she’d also said that he couldn’t promise to keep Lucas safe. Thinking of the bite on his arm again, he knew this was especially true. She frowned, her face going red as her shoulders slumped in humiliation.

  “I’m so sorry,” Brooke said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s fine,” Jon said. “I know you didn’t mean any ill intent in saying that.”

  “I just don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him, Jon. My only responsibility in this world is keeping him safe and taking care of him.”

  “And you’re doing a fantastic job. Balancing being a community leader and a mother isn’t an easy job, but you’re doing fantastic at both.”

  Brooke took Jon’s hand and gripped it tight. Her eyes welled.

  “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that. And I’m so glad you’re here with us. Hope’s Dawn is a safer place with you being a part of it, whether you want to believe that or not.”

  Jon couldn’t respond. So many emotions crept up on him, knowing that he would be gone soon. He had only one more promise he could fulfill, and that was to find the medical supplies to get back to Hope’s Dawn and hopefully help them get them back there.

  Flashing his light ahead, Jon pointed it over the wall as they approached the cage door. A thick door was there, too, though it was open from this side. The sign on the wall was both dusty and bloodstained, but Jon could read it.

  “Cafeteria.”

  This was obvious also from looking inside the room through the cage door. Long tables were stationed in rows across the large space, all fastened to the ground. If they hadn’t been, Jon assumed they would have been flipped onto the floor amidst the chaos that had arrived in the prison alongside the virus.

  He started to open the door, but Brooke took hold of his arm. Turning to look at her, he furrowed his brow and was about to say something when she put her index finger to her lips.

  “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

  He didn’t move, his hand still on the door as he closed his eyes and listened. The sound he heard was a familiar one. But he was surprised he hadn’t heard it as they’d walked up to the door. A dull collection of wheezing breathing.

  Opening his eyes, he shined the light into the cafeteria and followed the sound he’d heard to the left of the room.

  That’s when he saw them.

  32

  The sleeping horde stood still, bunched shoulder to shoulder in the corner of the cafeteria. From Jon’s angle on the other side of the door, he couldn’t see them all, but there had to be nearly two dozen of them. He flashed the light on them, trying to gather an accurate count. From what he had learned when they’d first seen the sleeping horde in the pharmacy, the light wouldn’t wake them; only loud noises would.

  “There ain’t shit back there,” Terrence said, approaching from behind. “I tried to—”

  Both Jon and Brooke shot around, throwing their index fingers up to their lips. They let out a harmonized, “Shush,” and their friend stopped in his tracks.

  “What?” he asked in a whisper.

  “There’s a sleeping horde in the cafeteria,” Brooke said.

  Terrence’s eyes went big, and he crept over, being more careful to avoid debris on the ground. He looked through the cage, shining his light toward the corner where the zombies slept.

  “Damn,” he said, stepping away. “We should turn around and see what else we can find.”

  Jon pointed his flashlight across the cafeteria and squinted his eyes. He could see another doorway similar to the one they were standing in. The door was closed.

  “That’s gotta be the kitchen,” Jon said.

  “Do you think the door is unlocked?” Brooke asked.

  Jon shrugged. “Only one way to know for sure.”

  “We should just turn around and go find the others,” Terrence said. “Maybe they’ve found what we need by now. At a minimum, we can go check the kitchen out with more numbers.”

  “And we’ll make more noise,” Brooke said. “It could be easier for us to get to the kitchen if it’s just the three of us.”

  “Or just me,” Jon said.

  “If we’re doing this, we’re all going,” Brooke said. “If what we’re hoping for is inside that kitchen, then we’ll be able to carry a lot more out if there’s three of us.”

  Jon had known that’s what she would say, but he had to try to do this by himself. He thought, at that moment, to tell her that he’d been bitten and that there was no point in risking any one of them but hims
elf, but he decided against it. Even then, she would still want to go. All that truth would do was make her worried, and if Jon was going to make sure she made it out of the prison alive, she needed to be in a clear headspace.

  So, instead, all he did was turn to Terrence. “You in?”

  Terrence lowered his eyes. “Fuck.”

  “Good,” Brooke said, accepting the expletive as a commitment.

  “They will only wake with sound,” Jon said confidently. He wasn’t totally sure that was true, but he said it as if it were. “So, watch your step and make sure you don’t make too much noise.”

  He grabbed the handle of the cage door and pushed. He opened it slowly, not wanting the door to squeak and wake the zombies. The door did its part, only creaking a little as he got it open enough for the three of them to sneak through.

  The high windows brought a fair amount of light into the room, but Jon kept the flashlight pointed at the ground in front of him to ensure that he wouldn’t step on anything. As he moved across the room, taking a wide path between the long cafeteria tables, which could each have seated a couple dozen prisoners, he couldn’t help but listen to the horde snore. It was a sort of wheeze, and the creatures made the noise in a chorus that echoed through the cafeteria. Jon tried to ignore it and focus on crossing the cafeteria, but he couldn’t block it out.

  He turned back to check on Brooke and Terrence. Each followed right behind him, watching the floor in front of them. Jon then focused ahead again, but the brief turn away had a price.

  He didn’t notice the aluminum can until his foot was about to step on it. As soon as he realized his mistake, Jon hopped on his other foot to avoid the can, but he lost his balance. He used his good arm to catch himself on one of the nearby tables, but still ended up going all the way down to the ground. Landing on his injured arm, Jon sucked in a groaning cry. He breathed to fight through it while also remaining still.