IX

Death Toll: The Turnpike/The Drains/The Church

The jungle was hot and humid and the rifle slung around Bill's shoulder was getting increasingly heavier with each advancing step. The callous in his hands were beginning to erupt, his skin peeling and breaking, just like it was with his entire squad. Bill looked to the five other men in his platoon, all of them weary and tired and hungry and afraid of what might happen to them. Just yesterday, Bill had to send one of his men home in pieces after the poor boy stepped on a carefully placed landmine. Bill was standing right next to him when he looked up and his face disappeared in the flame and smoke and pools of blood.

"Sarge, what are we gonna do now?" Private Michael Scott asked. "We've been walking for over a day now; where the hell are we goin'?"

"Orders from the top, Private," Bill answered, patting the young man on the shoulder. "We're doing a search and rescue over here. Intel got info about a squad of men who disappeared in the jungle around here not a week back. We're ordered to go in there and get them out if they're still alive."

Bill heard many sighs behind him, sighs of disappointment and fear. He closed his eyes and thought of the carnival he and Beatrice had went to before he flew out to this mess. They were on the Ferris wheel and she was so afraid, clinging to his arm for dear life. She looked so beautiful; her hair was up, her smile perfectly shining in the moonlight. She had kissed him on the cheek and he felt on top of the world. He smiled back, of course, before he whispered something in her ear.

Her gaze let up a little. She turned to him with glassy eyes and pursed her lips. "I love you, too," she said back, embracing him even harder. They stood like that until the Ferris wheel came to a halt. They looked at one another as though this was going to be the last time they were ever going to see one another. "You don't need to ask me, you know? To wait. I'd wait forever and a day for you."

"You really mean that, Bea?" he asked, suddenly surprised. "I could be gone for years. I could die out there, and all that waiting will be for nothing."

She shook her head and smiled. "I know what I'm getting into, William, and I know what I want. You're the man I want to be with for the rest of my life. I'd wait months, years…and whatever days may come after that."

Bill's smiled beamed into space. He lowered his gaze to meet hers. He knew she meant what she said, and he was glad she did. Beatrice meant the world to him, and living a life without her would be unbearable. Bill pressed his lips against hers, feeling her cool hand on his neck.

An explosion rung out then, sending one of his men flying in the air. Bill lifted his M16 and fired in the rustling bushes, hearing a yelp of pain coming from the other side, followed by a small blood spurt. He ran over to the young man who was sent flying in the air by the explosion. He turned him over and saw that his face was charred, the skin melted off half his body.

"Defensive maneuvers!" Bill shouted, hitting a tree to his side. Chunks of bark splintered from the tree. Bill had his eyes shut, thinking of the peaceful times before. He extended his rifle to the edge of the tree and pulled the trigger, shooting blindly into the rustling bushes.

Not many minutes after, Bill heard Scott shout "Sir!" from afar. "Joyce, Brush, and Madsen are dead! What the fuck do we do now, sir?"

"Just keep firing, Mikey! Let 'em think we got more numbers! And for fuck's sake, keep your goddamn head down!"

Scott pulled the pin of the grenade in his hand and threw it. A second later, a cloud of dirt erupted not too far from Bill. He saw that someone was approaching Scott's flank. He raised his rifle and fired a pot shot that hit him in the chest and shoulder, putting the Vietcong soldier down to the dirt. Scott took the time to look behind him and nodded to Bill, showing his thanks.

Blind fire was exchanged between the two opposing forces, spurts of dirt, bark and blood mixed in with the awful smell of their body odor and gunpowder in the air. After a few more minutes of exchanging potshots on the Vietcong, Bill didn't hear a rustle of a leaf or a crunch of a boot besides his and Scott's own.

"What's your call, Sarge?" Scott said lowly, waiting for a response. "Sarge? You with me, Sarge? Bill? Bill?"

- - -

His name echoed in his mind, and his eyes slowly fluttered open to find Louis lightly tapping his cheek. "You with me, Sarge? Bill? Bill? Come on, man, you gotta wake up."

"What happened?" Bill said weakly, coughing. He sat up with Louis' help and noticed the burning wreckage of the helicopter behind them, lighting up the dark expressway. Its smoke, which was pitch black, gave an indication that it was about to explode within minutes, if it hadn't already; Bill couldn't tell from the angle he was looking at it.

"You saved our asses is what happened," Louis answered, looking at the wreckage as well. "Looks like we all blacked out when we crashed. I was the first one to wake up so I grabbed you and Zoey and pulled you guys out first, and by the time I went to get Francis he was already up, muttering how he hates not being the one who gets pulled out first."

Louis chuckled a little bit. Bill glanced back over to the wreckage. "The pilot?"

"He's over there," Louis answered, pointing to a deserted car on the expressway, the pilot's body clearly visible slumped against the rear passenger door, his bloodstained face canted towards his shoulder. "I couldn't just leave him to burn in there… The poor guy…he tried to help us and that woman and little girl from the streets. He didn't do anything wrong but give a shit about people's safety."

Bill could see that Louis was visibly shaken by the pilot's death. It didn't take very long nowadays to know someone, and in the minutes they got to know the helicopter pilot, they could tell that he was a very caring individual, risking life and limb to bring others to safety. He had the warm personality of a father, something Bill could relate to all too much.

When Bill stood up, he saw that his M16 was lying right next to him. He could see Zoey changing the magazine in her 9mm and could see Francis storming about, smacking his palm against his head in a fit of rage.

When Bill and Louis caught up to Zoey and Francis, Zoey looked at Bill and smiled and then said, "Well, boys…it looks like we're walking."

"Yeah, well," Francis began, pointing a finger at Zoey, "next time someone offers us a ride, don't shoot him!"

"He was a zombie, Francis!" Zoey argued.

"On the bright side, look at all the great scenery we would have missed if we flew over it in a helicopter, huh?" Louis interjected, smiling. "So looks like we're gonna have to walk out of here."

"I hate walking," Francis sighed.

Bill knelt down next to the supplies and rummaged through the ammunition. Most of his stash was thrown around when the helicopter crashed, and his machete was nowhere to be found, but thankfully, Francis brought just enough for him to feel comfortable.

"We all set to go?" Bill asked. "Or does anyone have anything else to say?"

"Guys. Everyone. I wanna say something," Francis said, huddling everyone around him. "I. Hate. Helicopters." Three pairs of eyes rolled and three heads shook as they continued on. As soon as passed the pilot of the helicopter driver, he looked at Zoey and said, "Hey, Zoey, here's the pilot. Case you wanna shoot him again."

"He was a zombie, Francis!" Zoey repeated.

Louis laughed and shook his head, falling in line behind Bill.

"Hey, Sunshine Beams," Francis began, nudging Louis. "We just crashed. You got anything positive to say about that?"

Louis scratched his scalp and thought for a quick second. "That was my first time in a helicopter. Pretty exciting!"

Francis contorted his lip and raised an eyebrow before letting his shoulders relax. "All right. I'll give ya that."

The survivors pressed on into the dimly lit expressway, the heat from the helicopter's flame dissipating as they got further and further away. They saw a few straggling infected on the road that were easily disposed of before coming to a halt on the overpass.

Zoey sighed, "Of course the bridge is out," followed by an "Ah, hell," by Louis. Bill walked to the tip of the crumpled bridge and looked below. Aside from a few infected that were wandering the area, Bill could see that there was a ladder on the other side of the bridge. He pointed down to it, following the path with his finger back to where they were. It was a big dip to the bottom of the overpass, but it was their only shot to get somewhere.

"All right, people," Bill said, falling back. "Follow me. We're gonna have to backtrack a bit." He led them down the dip in the expressway, careful not too disturb too many of the infected hanging about, and froze mid-strafe, perking his ears. "Careful, people. There's a hunter around here."

Not much longer after that, Bill could spot the thing descending down meters away from the ladder, which is where they were supposed to be going. He nudged Zoey and pointing his finger at the Hunter, getting a wink in acknowledgment. Zoey craned her neck and looked through her scope and Bam! one shot, one kill, the Hunter's body falling down the ladder, crumpling at the bottom. "Nice shot, kiddo," Bill smiled, crouching towards the ladder and ascending it.

When he reached the top, Bill saw what used to be an old woman standing in front of him. The infected tilted its head and unleashed a flurry of bile that covered Bill completely. He grabbed it by the leg and swept its leg, sending the infected falling to join the Hunter below. He heard the howl in the wind and knew that the infected were going to be drawn to the smell. He could hear Francis cursing and firing his shotgun at the infected they had tried so hard to avoid. Bill brought himself to his feet and took a defensive position against the back drop of the ladder, firing three round bursts into anything that wasn't remotely human anymore. After a few seconds the horde seemed to be letting off, and it gave Bill a chance to vomit on the floor himself from that horrid smell.

"You all right, Bill?" Zoey asked, rubbing his back, squinting her eyes at the goo of the Boomer's bile before rubbing it on Francis' vest.

"Hey!" Francis retorted, brushing at his vest. "Watch the merchandise!"

On the other side of the overpass, a flaming tanker might've caused the overpass to crumble, but as they headed forward, Bill looked up to see the exit sign, Riverside, Exit ½ Mile. "It's through this tunnel," Bill informed, carefully treaded into the dimly-lit tunnel, flicking his flashlight on to provide some further light. Cars were abandoned in mass bulks inside the tunnel, and Bill swore he could make out the imprints of the deceased driving in the car before they eroded away.

And to his surprise, there were no infected inside for much of the walkthrough. But when they reached an area that had cars cluttered together, Bill could see the infected roaming around mindlessly below. "This tunnel was a deathtrap," he breathed lowly, before realizing his mistake. The infected—he could never guess how—set a trap for them.

Immediately, a pink tentacle came rushing forward, wrapping around Zoey's chest. Both sides of the tunnel were being flooded with the infected, toppling over themselves to be the first ones to get a meal. Bill took a knee and fired at the incoming mass, as did Francis at their rear. Louis held onto Zoey for dear life, training his Uzi 9mm against her shoulder so he too could fire some potshots into the crowd. But that wasn't enough as Louis' hold gave sway and Zoey was dragged into the horde, disappearing in countless bodies standing above her, her bloodcurdling scream the only thing echoing in the tunnel.

"Shit! I-I lost her! God damn it! I fucking lost her!" Louis cried, firing into the horde, trying to hit the pink tentacle.

Francis, dispatching the last zombie that was in plain view from the rear, looked up and saw what Louis was talking about. He quickly loaded five shells into his shotgun, the amount her knew he only had time for, and leapt in front of Bill and Louis, pushing his way into the crowd, smacking any infected in his way with his shotgun. He turned and fired once, killing a few zombies that were cluttering together, the sound of one shell hitting the floor. He fired into the mass in front of him, careful to aim up so as to not hit Zoey, the sound of the second shell hitting the floor. An infected sunk its teeth into his leg, to which he fired his third shell, blowing the face off of it. He reached Zoey and held onto the pink tentacle.

"Miss me, darlin'?" Francis asked, grinning. He held onto the tentacle with a firm grip and fired just below it, watching the thing explode as it did, and being dragged up towards the Smoker like a pulley. He thought he was flying in air before he realized that a chunk of the upper expressway had fallen into the one they were currently in. When he reached the top, he felt his firm grip on the tentacle and pulled the Smoker closer to him, aiming his shotgun with one arm before firing into its hideous face, watching it disappear in smoke and blood, the sound of the fifth shell in his shotgun echoing in his eardrums.

Bill looked up in amazement as Francis made his way down by climbing the asphalt and then began to reload his shotgun as if nothing had just transpired. Zoey was still coughing from the Smoker's grip on her, but all Francis was worried about was making sure his shotgun was fully loaded.

"Th-thanks, Francis," Zoey coughed, to which Francis nodded.

"Hey, the tunnel's blocked," Louis informed, pointing to a large truck that turned sideways, blocking their paths. "But there's a door open here. Come on, guys."

Francis piled in with Louis and Bill stuck around a minute longer to help Zoey to her feet and handed the Hunting Rifle her rifle. "I'm sorry…" Bill said lowly. "Sorry I didn't get to you in time."

"No harm, no foul," Zoey smiled. "Still in one piece, right? Let's catch up."

Bill nodded and followed Louis and Francis as they made their way down countless steps before stopping at some sort of generator room. He looked forward and could see that part of the ramp had broken off, and it was just a little jump from there to make it to the other side. He informed the others and took the first leap of faith, bringing himself to his feet and waited for the others to follow suit. Once done, the survivors headed back into the night, dispatching any infected that happened to be roaming within uncomfortable distance.

"Safe house up ahead!" Bill shouted, pointing to that savior-like red steel door. Once the survivors piled in, Bill turned and shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief. "All right, people. Take a few minutes to take a breath but no longer than that; we got some tracks to cross."

In this large generator room, Bill could see the words Exodus 9:15 in huge, black spray-painted letters. He tried to will himself to what it was, but couldn't come up with it. He had it on the tip of his tongue, he knew; Beatrice was always reading the bible in her spare time. She used to say it was something that kept her sane, and Exodus had been one of her favorite readings. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

"You ready to go, old man?" Francis asked.

"Just about. Gotta grab some more ammo." When Bill headed downstairs once again, he began loading up and thinking about the passage that was written. It bothered him that he couldn't remember, as Beatrice would see it as a long waste of time for even listening in the first place. He shook his head and glared down at the wooden table with all the ammunition. He saw that there looked to be a Bowie knife by the ammo container, and he quickly took it. He had lost his machete in the crash and was thankful to have anything close to a weapon he could use. He put the knife in his shirt pocket and moved on, Francis opening the door and the others following closely behind him.

They wound up in a sewage area that had interconnecting pipes. Following the pathway into a pipe that smelled to the fullest extent, they dropped down into another sewage area that housed many ladders. Once they descended them all, they found another sewage drop, to which they all sighed.

"Aren't we gonna get a disease from running around in other people's shit?" Louis asked.

"Look around ya, son. We're in the shit already. We've been in the shit for the past two weeks. You gonna start complaining now because your clothes are starting to smell? Be thankful we haven't run into the infected yet." Bill grinned and nudged Louis on the arm, falling into the slop a moment later, following it up to a ramp that housed yet another sewage pipe. When he reached the pipe, Zoey grabbed him from behind, causing him to jump and almost shoot her in the process.

"Witch," she said softly. "Lights off. Shh."

Bill nodded and clicked his flashlight off. When he peeked his head around the corner he could see her with her hands buried in her face, traditional Witch style, like all the others. Like Beatrice… He willed the thought away and motioned for Francis to come forward with his shotgun. Francis peeked around the corner and waited for the Witch to turn and face him before he placed the muzzle of the shotgun against her face and pulled the trigger. The Witch's body flailed and fell prostrate against the floor.

"Well, how about we get movin'?" Francis smiled, putting another shell into his shotgun.

They dropped down a ladder that let to the worst smelling sewage they had encountered thus far, which was saying a lot because the smell of the others made them want to vomit. Infected were sloshing around in the murky water and were quickly put down. It was easier to put them down because the water impaired their movement, making them much easier targets.

Bill followed the ramp around to an area with a dead Army personnel. The man was positioned close to a switch for the floodgates to close, which would lower the floodgates, allowing them to be used as a bridge to the staircase at the far end of the room. So when Bill flipped the switch, a loud siren buzzed around, and infected started jumping down from the pipes the survivors had just come from. They all fired below at the easy targets having had the upper advantage against them, and waited until the floodgates came down. They then walked across them and up the staircase in the corner.

When they reached the top, they followed the sewage pipes as tunnels, Francis taking the helm at decimating the Infected in close-quarters with his shotgun. This led the survivors into a tightly-squeezed room with many infected, all of whom took notice to the survivors that had entered their home. They wailed as they rushed forward, and were mowed down after wave after wave of gunfire tore into their bodies and cut them asunder. When all was said and done, Bill grinned and motioned his head forward, wishing he had had a cigarette that moment. It had been so long since the supply from the warehouse had been used up, and he didn't think highly of taking cigarettes off of the infected, though he knew that many of them probably had a pack in their pockets.

But when he reached the corner, Bill heard a growl and a large fist came flying towards him, missing him by mere inches, the large thing crashing into the wall next to him, crushing it. "Tank!" Bill shouted, already falling back as the hulking giant made its entrance and began to pace after them, bullets pinging off his thick muscular body. Bill was on his knee firing as the Tank came towards him. When the Tank reached him it grabbed him by the body and slammed him against the wall, Bill gasping for air as the wind was knocked out of him. Francis rushed to Bill's side and fired his shotgun into the Tank's back. The thing roared as shell after shell was dispensed, and it reached its arm backward, knocking Francis off his feet.

Louis and Zoey provided covering fire, but when it looked like things weren't going to plan, Louis reached for a bottle fastened on his belt and lit a rag. He threw the Molotov in the direction of the Tank and it caught really quickly, the monster thrusting his arms about trying to find a solution to alleviate its pain. Bill was already belly crawling by then, shooting glances back as the charred giant finally gave up its fight and crashed to the floor, the smell his skin giving Bill's nostrils a run for their money.

"Good, work, people," Bill coughed, lying on his back. "Good stuff."

"Here, let me help you up," Zoey said, bending down to give Bill some aid.

"Thanks, kid," he looked to Louis. "I owe ya one."

Climbing up a ramp way that had broken off from the upper level, the survivors exited through a window and followed the vast warehouse they were in around to a gated area and into another building, the red steel door of the safe house giving them all a breath of relief. When they were coming upon it, Bill scratched his head in confusion. He saw that the safe house was a train car, and he wasn't even aware that there was even any tracks around here. But rather than tempt fortune, he shrugged his shoulders and piled into the safe house, the other three survivors in tow.

Much like the other safe houses he's been in thus far, Bill saw that there was writing on the walls of the train car from other survivors who had been passing through. There was an almost illegible paragraph from another survivor warning other survivors to stay away from a certain infected, but he was able to read it fully.

It read: "Stay away from the ones that cry. I saw one RIP apart ten people. Listen for them and walk around!! No sneak up behind them and if they don't hear you coming they are sitting ducks."

This generated many replies from other survivors, such as: "You go ahead. Sneaking works for me." And "I'm happier now I can kill anybody I like." Bill cringed at the though of the person who wrote it, and another replied "Psycho," right below it.

Turning around, he saw another conversation written. It was about the Army.

It read: "Where is the Army!" "All Dead." "They're around! They just pulled back!"

And below that, "Riverside: Overrun. Newburg: Overrun. The Army's not coming back. Get out!!!"

"Jesus," Francis spat. "Buncha rays of sunshines, huh? I think these people hate more shit than I do. They sure sound like they do, complainin' on and on about the Army and Witches. You know what: I hate the Army, and I hate Witches, but you don't see me complainin' about them! I just kill the things. But you got people comin' in here with black markers and their fancy college handwriting and smarts and write up on the walls and—"

"This rant isn't going to end, is it?" Louis asked. "I mean, you're just going to keep going until you feel like stopping, aren't you?"

"I hate being interrupted," Francis answered, folding his arms.

Bill moved forward in the train car after loading up and saw something that made chills run up his spine. Somebody had written: "They can't change back. Don't take them w/you. SAVE YOURSELF!!" Bill immediately thought of Beatrice and thought of what he had done. He would disagree with this poster, but agree with him or her entirely. He felt better knowing that Beatrice died by his own hand and was put to rest rather than living on the way she was.

"You guys ready?" Zoey asked. "We gotta start getting somewhere."

"All right, people," Bill said, opening the door to the safe house. "March."

The train yard was surprising empty for the most part. Bill shuffled forward with his M16 at the ready and noticed many of the dead infected at his feet. Some survivor or survivors had to be here very recently; the bodies looked like they were fresh and hadn't been here longer than an hour. He wondered if they were closing in on that survivor's colony the helicopter pilot was talking about earlier.

"I don't like this one bit," Bill said. "It's too quiet over here. Everyone, keep on your toes; we may have a survivor around here or a nut job with a gun. Let's stick together and try to see where these tracks."

As the four survivors followed the tracks to a wooden building, they could see that the bodies of infected were still large in number. There were infected in the distance, but the path they needed to follow was conveniently swept through without any of them having to break a sweat, to which Bill was thankful. He still took the necessary precautions as he made his way past a new door: look in, sweep the area, then continue on. He could see that the three others with him felt the same and did not want to take any chances when it came to the sometimes crafty infected.

"Who do you think did this?" Zoey asked.

"I don't know," Bill answered. "But whoever it is, the guy sure knows how to use a gun. Look at these corpses; almost all of them have shots to the forehead or the upper body area. I think we may have some luck if we manage to run into him or her. We could sure use an extra pair of hands around here, especially if we're dealing with another marksman. Makes our lives a whole helluva lot easier."

"You said it," Louis agreed, grinning. "So what's say we just find the guy and ask him to join our ragtag group?"

"I hate meeting new people," Francis sighed. "If you ask me, you're all about to go lotion yourselves for some dude we haven't even met, and aren't even sure if he kicked the bucket or not. So let's save all this heroic bullshit for later when we find the fucker. If he doesn't want to come with us, we'll just take what he has and be on our way."

"We're not gonna rob the guy, Francis," Zoey said, shaking her head.

"Why not? It's every man for himself, right? We're in the world's biggest bar fight right now, and I don't know about you, but I plan on walking out of this place in one piece and get myself a nice shot of whiskey and a brew when I do. Man, I can just taste that beer now."

When they reached the end of the train, the four survivors hopped down and began following the road to a school bus that had crashed into a tree, the front of the bus still on fire. As they got closer, they saw a corpse lying just feet before the bus with a 9mm handgun and an M16 slung around his shoulder. When Bilk knelt down to inspect the body, he saw that he was killed not long ago.

"This your marksman?" Louis asked.

"It could be," Bill answered. "All's I know is we got ourselves another handgun and assault rifle though. Lou, grab yourself the M16 and Francis, you take the 9mm. Lord knows you're gonna need some extra protection with that close range shotgun as you can get." When the two settled on their weapons, Bill knelt down beside the man and rolled him over. Upon further inspection, Bill could see that there was a neat bullet hole in the center of his forehead, suggesting that there were more survivors than this poor bastard walking around.

"Let's keep followin' the road," Francis said. "The guy isn't going to get much livelier I you keep looking at him. Jesus."

The survivors dispatched of some straggling infected as they made their way down the road further, stopping at a storage shed for a moment to raid it for supplies, to which there were none. Leaving that place and following the trail of bodies up to a house on the top of the road, Bill knelt down and saw another corpse slumped against the wall with a battered and empty shotgun in his hands, the corpses of the infected surrounding him as well.

"What about him?" Louis asked.

"Looks like this guy got killed after he turned, so my guess is there are more of 'em around here somewhere. We just gotta keep looking."

The inside of the house used to be pretty once before blood stained the walls and a fire was erupted in the kitchen. Seeing as though there was nothing useful for the survivors to take within the house, they pressed on and followed the road and bodies to a cemetery. Bill saw that the road was blocked beyond that, and a sign that once read "Welcome to Riverside" was now written "Welcome to Hell."

"I hate cemeteries," Francis wailed, looking over his shoulder. "gives me the creeps."

"We've been killing dead people for how long now?" Louis asked. "And a cemetery is the thing that bothers you the most? Really?"

"I don't know, man," Francis scratched his head. "I just really hate cemeteries."

Bill shook his head and continued on. Further into the cemetery was a beautiful church that had floodlights surrounding the entire area. His eyes lit up and he let out a big smile, thankful that there were survivors other than them that were still walking around. Safety in numbers, as he always thought. "The lights are on in that church!" he shouted in joy.

Francis chimed in. "The safe place is up there!"

"We made it!" Louis smiled. "Thank God, man, because I can really use a bite to eat and take a crap. It's been a while of holding it in if you know what I'm sayin'."

Zoey shook her head and squinted her eyes at Louis. "Gross, Lou. Come on."

Louis shrugged his shoulders. "What? A guy can't talk about crapping anymore?"

"Let's just get movin', people," Bill laughed. "We gotta make some new acquaintances. Sorry, Francis."

When they made it to the top and saw the red steel door of the safe house, Bill could hear someone muttering something on the other side of the door. He was saying, "Better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry." Before Bill was going to knock, he heard the man inside wail, "It's been an hour. Been an hour. Must be immune. That's right, must be immune. No, I have to be immune. I can't believe he bit me. I never should have let him in."

Bill shook his head and pressed his palm to his forehead. There wasn't a colony of survivors here; there was only one man who had been bitten and is freaking out.

"Who's there?" the Church Guy asked. "Is someone there? I've got a bell in here!" But before Bill could answer, he heard the man say very quickly, "I trusted you. You said you were immune. You said you were immune. Won't fool me twice. I can't believe he bit me, I can't believe he bit me. I'm gonna start ringing this church bell if you don't say something! Is someone there? Don't make me use this bell!"

"Jesus, this guy's flipped his lid," Louis whispered. "What do we do?"

"No matter how human they look," the Church Guy continued. "Won't be fooled twice. Don't get fooled twice. Don't get fooled twice. Better safe than sorry." Bill then heard the man cough violently.

Bill knocked on the door and said, "We're survivors, son! We got the infected on our tails and need to hole out in the safe house. Please, open the door!"

"No one gets in here until I know you're immune!" the Church Guy replied.

"We're as human as they come, son, I promise you," Bill answered. "Please, open the door."

"Nonono! You said that last time! You said that last time! I trusted you last time!"

"Let me try this," Francis said, clearing his throat and knocking. "Open up! We're the cops!"

"Oh yeah?" the Church Guy asked. "What's your badge number?"

"Uh," Francis began, scratching his head and then looking to the other survivors. "I don't think that cop thing worked."

"Ya think?" Zoey grinned.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Let's see, I'm Francis, that's Grandpa Bill and…there's zombies out here! Open the God damn door! Have a heart; we got a helpless old man with us!"

"Hey!" Bill yelled. "Open the door, son. This has gotten real old real fast. We're immune so you don't have to be scared on our accounts."

"You said that last time! No one rides for free! Ding, dong, ding, dong!" Overhead, the sound of the church bell rang loudly into the night. Bill could hear the howling that filled the air as the infected made their way to the cause of the noise. "Dinner's served! Come and get it!"

"I don't believe this," Bill muttered, firing as the infected flooded into the church. Both sides of the church were getting flooded as the barricades were being ripped down. All four survivors fired into the crowd, but they found that more and more of them were coming in. Louis grabbed for his belt once again and relinquished one of three pipe bombs the survivors had left, lit it, and hurled it through the air, watching the infected switch course in favor of the loud distraction. Moments later a blast was heard and body parts and blood shot up into the sky.

Minutes passed that felt like an eternity, and it seemed like the infected were not planning on stopping. In a last ditch effort, Bill ordered Zoey to cover their backs while Francis, himself, and Louis all shouldered the door to break it down. It was a long shot, but it was more than what they were currently doing.

Bill, Francis and Louis all shouldered the safe room door what seemed like countless times. When it gave, the door came crashing open, and Bill saw the man who had kept him from coming in coughing on the floor.

"Better safe than sorry…" he hacked as he shifted and turned, coughing.

Bill felt a numbness run through his body. He pulled out the Bowie knife that was in his shirt pocket and screamed as loudly as he could as he grabbed the man's shirt, lifted him to eye level, saw the fear in his eyes, and plunged the knife into his chest over and over again.

"You piece of shit!" Bill cried. "You utter fucking worthless excuse for a human being! You fucking disgrace! We could have died out there, you know that? We could have died!"

Of course the Church Guy didn't hear him; he was long gone by the time the knife entered his body for the second time. And if that wasn't going to kill him, his soon turn towards the infected sure would have. But Bill kept thrusting his knife deeper and deeper into the man, cursing and shouting and crying and yelling as the Church Guy's blood painted Bill's face. His blood ran down his eyes and dripped off his chin.

"All right, God damn it!" Louis said, grabbing Bill's arm. "He's dead. He's fucking dead, man! Stop it! Stop it!"

Bill breathed heavily as he held firmly onto the Bowie knife that was caked in the Church Guy's blood. He could see that the young man hadn't been much older than his son or Zoey and he took especial notice to his eyes as they rolled dead in the back of his head. He spit the awful taste of blood that was in his mouth as Louis slowly let him go.

Bill could see Zoey's eyes burning into his heart. The eyes of Beatrice were burning into his heart. Zoey looked frightened; her mouth was slightly parted open in a gasped expression as she looked between Bill, the knife, and the Church Guy. When Bill looked over at Francis, all Francis did was look away and shake his head and began to barricade the door.

Bill thought long and hard about everything, until he pictured himself sitting in his living room listening to Beatrice read the bible. Her words echoed in his brain.

"For if by now I had put forth My hand and struck you and you people with pestilence, you would then have been cut off from the earth." – Exodus 9:15

- - -

I stared down at my barbaric hands and dropped the knife. A boy…I had killed a boy who was frightened because he was just looking out for himself after being fooled by others. But why didn't that stay my hand? Why did I keep thrusting that knife deeper and deeper knowing that he was no longer feeling it? Something inhuman took over my body at that moment; I became the animal that he very well came to fear—the animal that came into his domain to kill him. And it sickens me.

- Sergeant William Overbeck, United States Army (Ret.)

- - -

A/N: I hope you all liked the chapter. I'm so sorry it took me so long to put it up, but I've been quite busy. I wanted you all to realize something in this chapter and I hope you all noticed it. In the beginning of the chapter I wrote about Bill and Beatrice on the Ferris wheel and she coins the title of the story. I just wanted you all to know that when it's being said by Bill throughout the course of the story, or even previously, he says it in remembrance of her; just because she died within the story doesn't mean she won't appear later on, so I hope you all are very patient with the past sequences with Bill and Beatrice. She's an essential character in his development throughout the story.

And thank you for your continued support and patience with this story. I hope to have all of it done in no time so look for an update soon. God Bless.