An (Incomplete) Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse: Chapter 8
March 13th, 1999 - 6:33 pm
Rachel wakes to a pounding headache and the absolute certainty that she's been kidnapped. Zombies don't use metal pipes to whack people over the head; other people do.
Fuck. Being kidnapped while searching for Eric was not in the plan.
She groans and rolls over, feeling her stomach lurch at the movement. Concussion, then. Lovely, she thinks, though it's not surprising. She'd been hit hard enough to knock her out instantly; she would have been shocked if she didn't have a concussion.
She hears movement next to her and peels one eye open, hoping against hope that it's Kara. It is, and Rachel is at least thankful that they haven't been separated.
With a groan, Rachel sits up and takes in her surroundings. They're in a small room. It's dark enough that she can't make much out, and she thinks briefly about the rest of the team, waiting for their return. They'll be worried by now, if it's already dark. That means that it's nightfall, which is several hours past when they had planned on regrouping and leaving.
She hopes that no one has come after them, though she knows it's likely in vain.
"Kara," she croaks, and then groans at the pain in her head. It's staggering, splitting, all consuming. She lurches to the side and throws up, and then moans in pain, holding her head in both of her hands to keep the world from spinning.
"Rachel?" Kara asks, and her voice sounds small and frightened. "Where are we?"
Rachel can't answer Kara's question, both because she doesn't know and also because she feels like she's going to be sick again any second. She thinks she manages to mumble something along the lines of "dn't know", but it may have just been in her head.
Kara shuffles closer, and the noise makes Rachel's head pound. She groans, dropping her head to her knees, and lets a few tears fall.
"Hey," comes Kara's voice, and it's soft now, as if she's realized that Rachel is hurt. "They hit you pretty hard. I saw you fall. Are you OK?"
Rachel shakes her head "no" and immediately regrets it.
Fuck. She wants to pass out and sleep for a year.
But she can't.
She has to figure out where they are so they can get out, so they can escape from this place.
She takes a deep breath and forcefully tells her stomach to calm the fuck down. Once she feels like she won't throw up again, she raises her head, slowly, and meets Kara's eyes in the darkness.
"We're you... hit?" she asks, and Kara shakes her head.
"No. They had guns. And they had you. They said they'd shoot you if I didn't come peacefully, so I did. I didn't fight them."
"That's good," Rachel says, reassuring Kara that she'd done the right thing. "Were you awake the whole time?"
If she was, then she'll have a good idea where they are and how far they are from the highway.
Kara nods, and Rachel sighs in relief.
"Who are they?" she asks, and Kara shrugs.
"I don't know. There were four of them, all men. I don't know who they are or why we're here."
Rachel can hazard a guess, but she knows that dwelling on the worst case scenarios won't do them any good. Instead, she takes a moment to slowly map out their surroundings. There is only one door, no windows. She's sure there's a guard outside the door, and not having a second escape route complicates things. She's not in any condition to fight, and Kara has always been the weakest of the group in terms of hand to hand combat. They're at a definite disadvantage.
"How far did they take us?" she asks, and as Kara considers the question Rachel clambers ungracefully to her feet. She presses a hand to the wall, closing her eyes as she tries desperately to not throw up or pass out.
"Not far," Kara answers, and Rachel is thankful for that, at least. "We walked for less than ten minutes. I saw their camp; it was daylight when we got here."
"All right. Tell me everything you remember."
Kara nods and begins to recall all of the details that she can. There had been at least six people that she saw once they'd arrived at the camp, in addition to the four who had attacked them; all men, all armed. They had taken Rachel and Kara along the riverbank. "Which is good," she comments, "Because we'll know how to get back to the highway. The camp is small, two tents plus the small shed we're in. And they said something weird," she concludes, frowning as she watches Rachel press her ear against the door, listening. "They said not to put us with the 'other two'. Do you... could they have Eric, do you think?"
Rachel bites her lip. She wants to hope, but she doesn't want to be disappointed.
"Maybe," she says cautiously, and then pulls away from the door, moving to sit next to Kara. "Did they take all of your supplies?"
Kara shakes her head. "No, I hid a few things while they were distracted with you. I have two flares in the gun, and this," she says, and she hands Rachel a bottle of water. Rachel takes it gratefully, gulping down the liquid and sighing, pressing it to her forehead when she's done. She passes it back to Kara, who finishes it off, and then holds out her hand for the flare gun.
"We can use this to let the others know our position," she whispers, and tucks it into her waistband, pulling her shirt out to cover the lump it makes. "But the second we do, they're going to know we have it. We'll have to time it perfectly."
"Do you think they're looking for us?" Kara asks, and Rachel nods.
"I do. There's no way Tex and Danny would just leave us. And from what we know of Tom so far, I'm willing to bet he's the one leading the rescue mission."
Kara smiles and gently bumps her shoulder into Rachel's.
"I think he's into you."
Rachel blushes and scoffs, hiding a small smile. "He is not," she argues, but she can't help the way her heart beats more quickly, or the way hope blooms in her chest. He hadn't been upset when she'd kissed his cheek, and he'd said he would hold her to her word when she'd said their conversation would be continued later.
"If we get out of this mess," Kara continues. "You should talk to him about it. He's kind, and a good fighter, and easy on the eyes, too."
Rachel shakes her head, but doesn't deny anything that Kara has said. "I don't think now is the right time," she finally decides, after several moments of silence.
"There will never be a 'right' time," Kara argues. "This is never going to get any easier. You might as well enjoy whatever happiness you can find, because none of us knows if we're even going to be here tomorrow."
"I'll consider it," Rachel relents, and then presses her palm into her forehead when the world starts spinning again. "For now, though, we need to come up with a plan."
March 13th, 1999 - 6:49 pm
Tom is the first one to see the blood on the ground, coating the leaves and the rocks. He feels sick to his stomach, because it's bright red and warm to the touch; it's not zombie blood, it's theirs.
"They were here," he says, and clenches his fist tightly around his knife as he stands up.
"Couldn't have been zombies," Danny decides, frowning as he takes in their surroundings. "They make a mess, when they get someone. And they've never taken off with a whole body before. There would definitely be more blood and more gore."
"OK then what, a human?" Tom asks, and the thought is somehow worse. Had Kara and Rachel been kidnapped? For what purpose? And where had they been taken?
"We've run into a few groups before," Danny explains, walking a few feet away from the small pool of blood. He's searching for a trail — footprints, disturbed undergrowth or leaves, anything. "Most aren't good people. Everyone has been doing what they have to, to survive, and some have taken it too far. This one group, the first ones Kara and I came across, they acted nice at first. We stayed with them a few days, before Kara overheard them talking about selling her for rations. We left that night, and we didn't trust anyone else until we ran across Rachel."
Tom feels sick at the thought of Kara being sold, and then he feels bile rise in his throat at the thought that it might be happening to Kara and Rachel again, right now, wherever they are.
"Do you think that's what's happened?" he asks, voice quiet.
"I don't know," Danny admits. "But maybe."
Tom sees red.
He will kill anyone that thinks they can sell women for rations or supplies, or who would use them that way. Hell, he might kill them anyway, when he finds them, because they had hurt Kara and Rachel, enough to leave a pool of blood and a trail —
"Can we follow the blood trail?" he asks suddenly, stumbling forward and searching the ground intently for any further drops of the bright red fluid.
Danny turns from where he's searching and joins Tom, eyes scanning the ground carefully for any sign of blood. While he hates the idea that one of the girls had been hurt badly enough to leave a trail, it's the first solid lead they've had since they started searching over two hours ago, and it might be what saves their lives.
They find a second drop on a leaf several feet away from the original pool, and Tom's heart starts beating frantically in his chest. A third and fourth drop let them know they're going in the right direction, and Tom and Danny fall into formation as they continue searching the ground. Tom takes point, following the trail, while Danny walks behind, gun drawn and at the ready. Tom's attention is on the ground; he's trusting Danny to watch his back, should any of the infected attack. He pays no attention to anything other than following the macabre trail that has been left for them, hopeful for the first time in two hours that they'll find Kara and Rachel.
"Tom," Danny whispers, bringing Tom to a sudden stop. He glances back at the younger man, a questioning look in his eyes. Danny doesn't speak, but he points, and Tom follows his line of sight, reaching back and clutching the gun that's tucked into the back of his pants. He falls back, taking careful, silent steps, until he's standing right next to Danny.
"I see six," he whispers, and Danny nods.
"Three buildings," Danny adds. "Could be more people inside."
Tom hums quietly, eyes flickering from one end of the rundown camp to the other. Two tents and a shed. It's not much, but the men walking around the camp are armed to the teeth. It's dark, but there are two different fires going, one on each end, that light the camp up enough for Tom to see clearly what they're up against. The way the men move makes it clear that they're patrolling the area carefully. They've been trained, and that makes this whole rescue operation much harder.
"They're the one who took Rachel and Kara," he whispers, and has to take a deep, steadying breath to keep himself from running into the camp and shooting all of them.
"Yes," Danny agrees, and reaches out to put an hand on Tom's arm, squeezing tightly. "But we can't just run in there. We're outnumbered three to one. We need a plan, or we'll all die, Rachel and Kara included."
Tom knows he's right, so nods, trying to channel his anger into something more productive. He takes a deep breath and holds it, before blowing it out.
"Yes. OK, you're right. We need a plan. We need some way to communicate to Rachel and Kara that we're here. We're more likely to succeed if we're all on the same page, working toward the same goal."
"I don't see any windows on that shed. I'm not sure how we can communicate with them," Danny responds, and Tom grins.
"I may have an idea."
March 13th, 1999 - 7:12 pm
"When they come for us," Rachel whispers, and crouches by the side of the door that will allow her access to their kidnappers when it opens, the flare gun grasped tightly in her hand. "We run."
They had spent the past half hour mulling over various plans, but none of them were realistic when they were so outnumbered. If they tried to use the flare gun as a weapon, they only had two shots, and then they would have to fight past the other eight heavily armed men. Attacking outright was also a terrible plan, they had decided, due to them being so much smaller and weaker than their kidnappers.
They had also eventually agreed that, whoever the 'other two' were, they would have to wait until Rachel and Kara could get backup. There was no way the two of them, alone, would be able to complete a rescue operation on their own.
In the end, running had been the only plan that they didn't foresee ending in their deaths. Rachel would shoot the flares at whoever came for them, and then they would run, as fast as they could, in the direction of the river. They may have been weaker than their captors, but they were fast, and they could use it to their advantage. The fact that it was dark was also an advantage they had — it would be harder for anyone to shoot at them with any semblance of accuracy.
"I'm scared," Kara says, and although Rachel knows it's true (because she's petrified, though she's trying to be strong), Kara is doing an admirable job of not showing it.
"I know. I am, too," Rachel admits, and re-balances herself, settling most of her weight on her heels. Her head is still pounding, though the nausea and dizziness have mostly dissipated. "But we can do this. We're in the woods, it's dark, and, thanks to endless hours of searching, we know this area like the backs of our hands. We'll disarm whoever opens this door, and then get the hell out of here. With any luck, we'll run into Danny, Tom, and Tex on the way back, and they'll be armed. We can do this."
"We can," Kara agrees, and takes a deep breath. She plasters herself against the wall behind Rachel, preparing to bolt when the door opens.
March 13th, 1999 - 7:23 pm
"I'd just like to make sure you heard me when I said that this is a terrible plan," Danny deadpans, running a hand through his hair as Tom begins to hand over his weapons. "This is an insane plan. Easily the stupidest thing you've ever done."
"You've only known me for two days," Tom points out.
"Yeah, well, my point stands," Danny says, and shoves Tom's gun in his waistband along with his own. He takes the pack of supplies with the flares, medical kit, and food, and tosses it over his shoulder as well. Tom tucks his knife, and then the extra one Danny hands him, into his boot, and then stands up, turning to face the camp.
"Wish me luck," he says, and Danny cringes.
"Please don't die, man," he pleads, and Tom salutes him before walking forward.
It takes the men on patrol less than a minute to see him, and then chaos erupts.
March 13th, 1999 - 7:29 pm
"What the hell is going on out there?" Rachel hisses, and then reaches for the door. Maybe they don't even need the flares. If the men are distracted, and it sure as hell sounds like they are, they can just make a run for it.
She tries the door and it creaks open slowly in her hand. She's not terribly surprised it's not locked; the men who had kidnapped them don't seem like they're too worried about them escaping. No one has checked on them or even spoken to them.
"Ready?" she asks Kara, and the other woman nods.
Rachel flings the door open and backs up against it immediately, flare gun held out in front of her, and takes in the scene before her.
"Tom?" she whispers in astonishment, and she hopes fervently that the big idiot has at least brought backup with him. He's standing at the edge of the camp, both hands in the air, and is talking to one of the men, the others surrounding him with guns raised. Rachel can't make out what he's saying, but it doesn't look like the men are buying it, and she winces when one of them walks behind Tom, nudging him none-too-gently in the back with his rifle. Tom staggers forward, eyes scanning the camp while he does, and Rachel meets his eyes briefly.
Run, she wants to scream, but she knows that he's done this to offer them the chance to run. He'd likely come to the same conclusion that she had - there was no way that she and Kara would be able to fight their way out.
Their eyes hold for a moment that stretches into eternity, before Tom jerks his head to the side, indicating a thicket of trees to their left.
'Danny,' he mouths, and Rachel nods, understanding, and turns to Kara.
"Run that way," she says, and Kara takes several steps before she realizes that Rachel's not following her. She turns back to see Rachel unloading the flare gun, holding both of their flares in one hand, a look of determination on her face.
Tom had done his part, offering them a distraction so they could escape, and now she is going to do what she can to help him.
The flares, she knows, will take about three to five seconds to ignite once she throws them in the fire. So, instead of heading into the woods with Kara, she takes off running in the direction of the second bonfire, the one that Tom isn't standing nearby. He tracks her with his eyes, and she sees the exact moment that he understands her plan. He nods, once, and Rachel holds the flares over the fire, raising her other hand, all five fingers in the air. She drops the flares, and then starts counting down. When she gets to 'two', she begins running, hands over her ears to block out what is going to be an impressive noise.
As soon as the flares start to explode, Tom tumbles to the side to break out of the grasp of the man who's holding him. He throws himself on the ground, rolling away from the men, and when he stands up, he has a knife in each hand.
"What the hell?" one of the men shouts, and Tom turns to him, slashing across his Achilles tendon as he rises to his feet. The man falls, unable to walk, and Tom turns to search out Rachel. She's running, and the man who had shoved his rifle into Tom's back has noticed.
Fuck, Tom thinks, and heads to intercept the man. He's waylaid briefly by one of the other kidnappers, and thrusts his second knife into the man's thigh before continuing, his chest burning and his vision blurring with blood from the wound he'd managed to reopen.
As he chases the man, he notices that Rachel is running more slowly than he knows she can, and her gait is awkward.
She was the one who was hit, he thinks, and he's still about five steps away from catching the man chasing her when she stumbles, one foot collapsing beneath her and sending her to the ground. She cries out, and the man is on her instantly. He has one hand wrapped around her upper arm and is yanking her back to her feet, his free hand reaching back before connecting with her cheek, hard.
"Fucking bitch!" he yells, and throws her backward to the ground again. Rachel falls, whimpering, and as the man is about to go for her again, Tom finally reaches him.
He doesn't think twice. He wraps one arm around the man's neck from behind, and presses the knife into his jugular.
"Go go hell," he whispers harshly, and then runs the knife across the length of the man's neck. Blood coats his hands immediately, but he doesn't give it a second thought. He tosses the man's limp body to the side, drops the knife, and reaches down for Rachel.
She's unconscious, and as he slides one hand under her neck to lift her, he feels the sticky warmth of her blood coating the back of her head.
He wants to stop and check her injuries, to make sure she's still breathing and alive, but he doesn't have time.
"TOM!" Danny shouts from further in the woods, and Tom whips his head around to see three of the men from the camp running toward them. He quickly shoves his other hand under Rachel's knees and lifts her, settling her body against his chest, and runs.
