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Chapter 3

Author: R. L. Ankney
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56
My heart began to race and the sense of dread that I had been fighting swamped me. I threw open the door to my pickup and jumped in, barely even throwing my seatbelt on before I threw it into gear and floored it. The sounds of angry horns once again accompanied me as I sped down the street. This time, I didn't stop until I reached Marcus' school.

I grabbed Johnathan out and raced into the school, almost running over a few ladies from the office in the process.

"Mrs. Andrews what are you doing here?" the teacher asked in shock as I stormed into the classroom.

I ignored her as I searched for and finally spotted Marcus' dark brown hair. His confused eyes connected with my panicked ones.

"Marcus, come with me we need to get home," I said ignoring the teacher.

"What's going on, Mom?" he said worriedly responding to the urgency in my voice.

I didn't answer as I grabbed his stuff and shuffled him out the door still ignoring the protest of the other adults.

"What's going on, Mom?" Marcus asked as I buckled them both in the truck.

I stopped and looked at his panic-stricken face knowing that I couldn't brush him off as easily as I could his little brother.

"Honestly, hon, I don't know. All I know is that there's something wrong and I would feel better if I kept you with me," I explained as quietly as I could.

I checked on Johnathan again while I made sure his seatbelt was fastened as tight as it could be. His face was very pale, and his breathing was ragged. He hadn't even stirred when I had taken him out or put him back in and I knew I had to get him to the hospital as fast as I could. I slammed his door shut and had barely opened my door up when Marcus spoke up again.

"Mom, what's wrong with that lady?" he said pointing.

Feeling the sense of dread well up again my eyes followed his finger. Over by the fence that surrounding the playground was a woman and, Marcus was right, there was something wrong. Her skin looked shallow almost translucent despite her normal dark African American skin color, and she was twitching. Almost like her muscles themselves wouldn't stand still no matter how hard she tried. She seemed to be using the fence to hold herself up but was almost losing the battle.

"What's wrong with her, Mom?" Marcus repeated.

"I don't know, honey but we have to go. We have to get Johnny to the hospital," I said quickly stepping up to get into the truck.

I was honestly and selfishly more than willing to dismiss this woman in favor of my own children.

"She needs help," Marcus implored.

"I know, sweetie, and I'll call 911 as soon as I can. But for now, we have to take care of your brother."

I was trying to reassure him with what should be a solid sensible plan.

"Mom, if we're going up to the hospital why can't we take her with us?" he asked.

It was such a rational statement coming from my seven-year-old that I had to pause and look back to see if a grownup had replaced him. Although I knew he was right, I still hesitated to wait any longer to get Johnathan up to the hospital. The impending sense of doom that shrouded him seem to grow stronger with every passing second.

"Please, Mom?" Marcus begged when he sensed the crack in my willpower.

"Marcus," I whined out.

"Mom, it's the right thing to do."

His words cinched it, I knew now there was no way I was going to get out of this without going and at least checking on her. With a heavy sigh, I slid out of the cab of the truck before turning back to him.

"No matter who comes up to this door, DO NOT UNLOCK IT," I instructed him harshly.

He nodded solemnly his dark brown eyes, which were a replica of my own, were also filled with the same worry and fear I felt myself. I forced myself to turn away despite the fact I wanted nothing more than to stay. I quickly locked the door and slammed it with a resounding thud, then began to mutter to myself about the stupidity of walking up to a person who was obviously whacked out of her mind.

My steps slowed as I got closer and noticed her eyes were completely dilated causing them to appear pitch black. Originally, I had thought the weird movements of her mouth had been a part of the seizure she was caught up in, however now I could hear her mumbling unintelligibly.

"Miss? Do you need help?" I said cautiously.

There was no response, not that I had really expected one. I reached out to touch her, but a noise rang through the playground stopping me dead in my tracks. It was the same animalistic noise I had heard at the clinic, and I turned slowly to find a group of people gathered in a cluster on the other side of the fence clear across the playground. They were screeching in unison and shoving hard against the fence as if they couldn't figure out why it wasn't giving away.

Their actions sent warning bells off in my head. Anyone in their right mind would have just hopped over the fence. Hell, even my five-year-old wouldn't have seen this metal linked fence as much of a barrier if he wanted to go play. Yet, these people seemed to be unable to see it as anything but a wall that needed to be shoved down. Something was extremely wrong with them, and it left me with a sense of panic. Every horror film I had ever watched flashed through my head until it landed on one impossible fact that I couldn't refute. My heart raced painfully in my chest as I heard one word bounce around in my head.

Zombies.

"Oh shit," I breathed.

My eyes refused to believe what I was seeing, and I continued to stare as the crowd began to grow bigger and bigger. There was something wrong with their movements; to begin with, they weren't the normal stiffness you saw in the movies and still, they seemed to be unable to control their movements at the same time.

I would have stared at them for forever if a noise from the woman in front of me hadn't brought me back to the present. She was having an even harder time trying to stand. Her movements were still sporadic and even more so than those across the way. But her eyes had changed, instead of being black now they were blood red almost like a demon's eyes. Her face was drawn, almost skeletal, and I slowly stepped backward fearful that at any moment this woman would attack me. Her unnerving stare stayed on me no matter what. She was watching my every movement, tracking me. All the sudden she straightened away from the fence and began to amble towards me.

"Victoria," she gasped out.

Her voice was ragged and cracked almost as if the vocal cords had been ruined or overworked. The sound sent chills down my spine and my teeth on edge to hear it; it was like nails on a chalkboard.

I stepped back even further wanting nothing more than to get away from her. I didn't know how she knew me, nor did I want to know. My self-preservation was telling me that I needed to get the hell away from her… from everything.

"Victoria," she said again.

The jerky movement in her step was suddenly gone, though they still seemed weary almost as if her legs couldn't support her body anymore. I countered each step of hers with one of my own until it was kind of like a dance between the two of us.

"Victoria," she repeated before mumbling something and lifting her hand to stop me.

Fearing that now was the moment she would attack me and eat my brains, I hastily scrambled backward until my back slammed into a wall that I hadn't even known was there. She kept repeating my name as she shuffled forward with her hand outstretched. Her other arm stretched out a closed fist and I shrunk back thinking she was going to hit me, but she stopped an inch away from me.

"You have not been eliminated. You have been given a chance," she said in her still hoarse gravelly voice before she dropped something on the ground.

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