Page 34 of Redemption
“Holy fuck!” I gasp, chasing Baylor down as we race through the parking lot and as far away from the grocery store as possible. We run, not back to where we’d come from, but away from everything, taking the road that leads to the main gates. We go for miles, our feet and ambition and will to live propelling us farther and farther away from the swarm.
And then, after about a half an hour, it hits us.
The sound of... absolutely nothing. No zombies growling from the shadows. No deranged assholes intent on world domination. No bombs or grenades. Not even the commonplace sound of a V-22 Osprey flying overhead.
Absolutely... nothing.
Silence.
Both on the same page, Baylor and I stop right there in the middle of the road as we realize we’re all alone and, more importantly, not being followed.
We escaped. We’re free.
I turn to Baylor, a grin lifting on my face as I heave out a breath, my lungs starving for oxygen. “We did it.” The words are soft but said with enough elation and relief that he hears them, returning my smile but remaining quiet as he catches his breath along with me. Unable to stop myself, I pull him in for a half hug, patting his back as relief washes over me. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
A few minutes later, we round a bend, my steps lighter and more full of life than I’ve felt in a while. It’s funny... how alive you feel after outrunning death so many times. It makes me think of all the things I want to do with the time I have left, as well as everything I’ve come to regret in my life.
Alessandra.
Mi Alma.
I absolutely and truly fucked up when it came to her. I’ve known this, but after everything, the truth of the matter is blinding now. I should have never left her there at that airport. Looking back, I would have done everything differently. Would have married her the second I got out of bootcamp. The second I saw how strong she was for making it through three months of an overly ambitious pen pal relationship. I should have known then that she could do anything she set her mind to.
Including being the wife to an insufferable Marine grunt.
While I wish she were here with me right now so I could hold her and tell her just how much I love her, I’m actuallyhappy she’s in New York. That means she’s as far away from this bullshit as she can pretty much be.
Which means she should be safe, wherever she is.
And at this point, that’s enough for me.
Baylor, keeping in step with me, pulls his girl’s picture from his blouse pocket, fingering the worn edges while looking fondly down at her.
“Excited to get back to her? Now that we’re away from Waverly—and from how empty the base is, I’m pretty sure the mandated shutdown is over—nothing’s holding you back. You can go to her. Make sure she’s ok.”
I can see his throat jump with a gulp and his eyes narrow as they remain fixed on the Polaroid, but after a moment he blinks himself out of his rapt focus and turns his gaze back to mine, a small lift to the side of his mouth. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure I’ll see her soon enough.”
I clap a hand on his back, picking up the pace. Our excitement for a hopeful reunion with our girls driving us to the end.
After another mile or so, the main gate comes into view... along with, what seems like, every single member of base personnel. Thousands of suited-up Marines stand shoulder to shoulder, blocking the exit and the length of the fence line as far as the eye can see.
“Maybe it’s to keep people from going AWOL during the shutdown?” Baylor suggests, but it’s not until we edge closer that we realize what we’re actually up against.
Death fills their eyes.
Every single one of them is covered in blood, their faces perpetually set in gruesome, snarling, ravenous hunger.
And then they see us.
It’s slow at first, their advance. From a crawl to a lumbering jog, they fight one another to get to us.
Stunned, we stand there, frozen in fear and unsure of what to do. We can’t go back. Waverly and his team might find us and no doubt kill us for desertion. We could try for another exit. The lines of ranks go for what seems like miles, but base is huge, which means there should be a gap in the horde somewhere. We just have to find it.
Then again, those deadheads were stationed on base right along with us. Fought against the same shit we did. That’s a lot of fucking Marines. Could our depressing little group actually be the only survivors left? If that’s the case, then there are hundreds of thousands of Infected to go up against, spread out along the entire interior of those gates and probably outside of them as well. Not to mention those wandering the streets or trapped within the buildings.
Impossible odds to overcome.
But we can hope for a chance at a lucky break.
