This is Chapter 2 of a post-apocalyptic zombie novel. Please see here for Chapter 1 (should probably read that first!)

Billy

The Station

I fired twice hitting the frenzied woman in the chest and then the side of her forehead. The echo of the gunshots in the compact metal frame of the bus made my ears ring.

She fell instantly and when she did I saw what she had been doing. A dark-skinned woman with shoulder length black hair lay on the floor with blood spilling from her neck and spurting out of her mouth. Her face had been torn to shreds and her eyes were almost completely covered in blood. I stepped over the dead bodies at my feet and ran over to her, crouching down beside her. I raised my hand to apply pressure on the side of her neck, but she grabbed my wrist with a force that surprised me.

Don’t, she said. Don’t let her see me like this. She stared into my eyes with a look of hopelessness and delirium. Please, she begged. Keep her. Her grip weakened and her hand fell to the ground. Please keep her sa—. Her breath dwindled and faded with those final words and her eyes froze up at the ceiling.

Damnit, I pinched the bridge of my nose and heard a sound come from behind me. I whipped my pistol around and saw the little girl from outside staring wide-eyed at us. She looked at me, couldn’t have been older than nine. I saw her eyes begin to water and in those eyes, I saw a reminiscent image of the woman lying dead behind me. She took a step forward and I got up quickly to block her view. No, I said. You don’t want to see that. She shoved me aside and I didn’t fight her.

Get away from her! she sobbed. The girl collapsed over her mother’s corpse, resting her head on her mother’s blood-soaked chest. Mom…no please mom. Please. Wake up.

You can’t stay here, I said. It’s not safe.

She didn’t hear me. Instead, she buried her face into her mother, trying to find her warmth. It was as if she thought holding on harder would stop the world from turning, or maybe she hoped when she opened her eyes she’d wake in the comfort of her bedroom. Instead, when she turned her head and opened her eyes, she saw me. She saw whatever cold look I held on my face. The truth is, I felt just as lost and helpless as she was.

More screams echoed in the distance and I heard a helicopter zoom by over us. Listen, I said, looking sternly into her eyes. You can stay here and cry, but you won’t last very long. Something bad is happening. I don’t know what it is, but you can come with me until I find somewhere safe to leave you.

She didn’t move, and it seemed as though again, she hadn’t heard a word I said. I remembered her mother’s last words, but I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.

With each second, things outside seemed to grow worse and in the end, what obligation did I have to some stranger’s dying words and a little girl that would slow me down? All right. I got up and cocked the pistol and saw a bullet in the chamber. By my count, I had only three bullets left, and only one extra clip in my pocket. It wouldn’t last long. Good luck. Before I could turn around I felt a tap on my shoe. Her mother’s hand twitched.

Mom? the little girl whispered. Mom!

I stared in disbelief as I heard her mother’s breath escape her throat. She moaned and her head twitched sharply. I was sure I had heard her breath give out and had felt her pulse stop beneath my fingertips. I thought it was a miracle or maybe I really was just dreaming.

The little girl smiled, thinking her prayers had been answered and that somehow God had given her mother back to her.

Then, her mother’s head shot up and her eyes opened, red as the blood on her neck. Her mouth pulled back into an animalistic snarl. She thrust her hands onto her little girl’s neck and began to squeeze the life out of her. Shit! I held the pistol against the woman’s head, but she didn’t even feel it, all her attention was focussed on crushing her daughter’s throat.

Momma, the girl tried to speak, as her eyes began to protrude and the blood rushed to her head.

I pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed onto the little girl’s face and she slumped to the ground, catching her breath as she pried her mother’s rigid fingers off her throat.

The girl wept as she stared at her mother’s blood-soaked face. Outside, the other passengers had disappeared. The sirens continued in the distance. Listen. I crouched down on one knee, keeping my eyes out for movement over the window. We have to go. Now.

I can’t— she whispered and then yelled abruptly, I can’t get it off! I looked at her, and saw her struggling with a thin chain and locket around her mother’s neck. I started to help her with it when I heard a scream close by and panicked voices outside the bus. I pulled hard on the chain and it came free from her mother’s neck. I thrust it into her hands and pulled her roughly to her feet, but she collapsed back down on her knees the moment I let her go.

The streets were in disarray and chaos, as if we were in the middle of a terrorist attack or a battlefield. I had hoisted the girl on my shoulder. She barely moved and remained silent, as if she were dead already. She was light, so I could still move at a good pace.

I had to find the nearest police station quickly. They probably needed me back at the bar. I tried 911 on my cell phone again and still, the line rang busy. I knew the closest police station was only a couple kilometers away. I’d been detained there a few times myself and had to bail our guys out over the years. Charges were always dropped of course,  thanks to our lawyer who had connections within the police department.

On the way to the station, cars zoomed past in every direction. It was as if everyone knew they should be running, but had no idea where to or what from. More helicopters passed overhead, this time in groups. Whatever this was, it was real. Luckily, we didn’t encounter any more trouble on the way. From the outside of the station, it was already clear no help would be found here. In the parking lot normally packed with cruisers and unmarked cars, only one cruiser remained.

Up the small flight of stairs, the two double doors had been left propped open. I set the girl down on the first step. Can you walk? I looked her in the eyes and her blank expression showed me she was still in shock, yet she nodded ever so slightly. Stay close behind me.

I loaded my spare clip into the pistol and took the girl’s wrist firmly in my free hand. Her arm was so small, so frail I thought she might break within my grip. To my left, the front desk had been left unattended. The BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! of a phone left off the hook played somewhere in the empty office.

Hello? I called out. No answer. Hello! Louder this time, but still no answer. I let go of the girl’s hand and scoured the first floor with her following close behind me, but all I found were empty chairs and empty desks. The second floor was no better, just abandoned offices with folders and papers knocked on the floor and a lunch room table left with half-eaten meals. Completely empty, a ghost station. Stay here. I sat the girl down in the break room and went back down to the first floor and shut the doors, making sure they were locked. I checked to make sure the parking lot exit had been locked too.

Finally able to breathe, I sat down at the first desk I came upon and let my head rest in my hands, laying the pistol down on the desk. What am I doing? What are you doing, Billy? My eyes drifted to the nameplate on the desk, Det. J. Conway. I knew him, or at least I remembered him. He’d been more self-righteous than the rest. His badge lay on his desk. He must’ve left in a hurry. I picked it up and pocketed it, could come in handy later. Next to his computer was a small photo frame. In the photo, his daughter sat on his shoulders. Both of them smiled for the camera. Was he with her now? What would he do with the girl if he were here?

A rustle came from behind me. I turned instantly, pistol in-hand ready-to-fire, but it was just the girl. Jesus, I breathed. Didn’t I tell you to wait upstairs? She said nothing. Instead she took a seat at the desk next to me. I sighed, looking at her. It’s safe here, for now, I said. We can hole up here until I figure out where to take you. Still no answer from her. I’m gonna get something to drink. I stood up, but before I reached the stairs she was already following behind me.

***

I found the gun locker on the first floor. Although it had been almost emptied, they left numerous pistols, a shotgun, and more rounds than I could carry. I found the locker room and looked for a duffel bag, but all I could find was an army camo backpack. I grabbed three pistols and shoved them in the bag along with nearly two hundred pistol rounds and fifty shotgun shells. I saw Kevlar vests and picked one up and immediately set it down again after feeling it’s weight. Much too heavy. The shotgun was heavy enough, especially if I had to keep the girl in-tow.

Before I knew it, night had fallen. Luckily there were no windows on the first floor of the station, so the place was secure enough for now. I found a small couch in the captain’s office and I showed the girl to it. I left her there and told her to rest. I went back to the first floor, but a few minutes later, she came back down silently and put her head down on one of the desks next to me. To my surprise, she fell asleep easily, and started snoring lightly.

In the night, we heard that sound again. The sound of screams like nails on a blackboard. She woke in a jolt and I told her to go back to sleep, but she wouldn’t. She just sat there, listening with her eyes wide with terror. When the screams and screeches didn’t stop, I propped a couple desks against the front door hoping it would make her feel safe. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was to calm my own nerves as well.

Eventually the screams stopped, and I didn’t know which was more unsettling: screams in the night or the sound of the silence before the storm.

No cruisers returned to the station that night.