100 Days in Deadland (Deadland Saga, #1)(4)

I sucked in a deep breath. “I think I killed Melanie,” I said quietly.

“Melanie Carlson?”

“What?” I glanced at Alan. “Oh. No. The other Melanie.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Did she try to hurt you?”

“Of course she tried to hurt me. She tried to eat me.”

Alan was quiet for a time. “I bet she could eat a lot.”

I belted out a laugh. Not because it was funny but because my adrenaline high was coming down, and with it, my shock. Alan laughed, too, though the stress was getting to him. He wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm and kept driving.

I’d killed someone today. The truth really hit me just then, and I let my head fall against the headrest. I hadn’t even thought about the repercussions. Would I go to jail, even though it was an open-and-shut case of self-defense? I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I’d lose my job. That was a given. How the hell would I pay the bills?

And then there was Melanie. That poor woman’s final minutes were in a bathroom of all places.

“No, no, no, no,” Alan chanted.

Startled, I glanced up to find a massive pileup of cars dead ahead. Vehicles were mashed together, filling up every inch of open space in the four lanes in front of us. An ambulance and two police cars were on scene but no tow trucks yet. Concrete prevented us from getting into the lanes of oncoming traffic, and a deep ditch prevented escape off to the right.

“Can you turn around? Take the last exit?” I asked.

He was staring in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t think so. It’s getting pretty crowded back there. Maybe we can find a way around this mess.”

Doubtful, I scanned the wreck as we drew closer. People were running away, but not everyone. One cop was handcuffing a man who kept twisting his neck, trying to bite him. Several others were standing by cars, helping free the drivers and passengers. I narrowed my eyes.

Hell. They weren’t helping free the people still in cars. “Oh, God,” I whispered.

“What is it?” Alan asked.

“We have to get out of here,” I said, staring at the crazies attacking the people in cars. It was like the entire world decided to go cannibal at the same time.

He frowned, pointing ahead. “Exactly how do you think we are going to get past this mess?”

“I mean now, Alan.”

A man jumped out of his car and started firing his pistol into the mob. The sound must’ve finally registered what was underway because Alan’s eyes widened, and he yanked the car around. Something slammed into our car and an explosive force threw me against the seat. Dazed, I blinked to see that we were now facing another direction.

Powder from the airbags sent dust flurries in the air. I shoved at the deflating white bag. The driver of the car that had t-boned us was still hidden behind his airbags. I glanced back at the horde of crazies to find them looking in our direction.

I unlatched my seatbelt and tugged on Alan’s arm. “C’mon. We need to get out of here.”

He muttered something, and shook his head as though to clear it.

“Stupid idiot!”

I looked outside to see the other driver climb groggily out of his car, shaking his fist. He stepped up to Alan’s door, and pounded on the window. “Moron! What were you thinking turning around in the middle of the road like that?” he yelled.

“Fuck off!” Alan growled right back.

Alan was not a large man. He was my height and had maybe thirty pounds on me. To see him yelling at a pissed off guy only added fire to a tinderbox. Then I saw them coming our way. “Uh, Alan?”

“What!”

I pointed at several crazies with pallid skin stumbling toward us, their jaundiced sights homed in on the man standing outside our car. Their faces and chests were blood-soaked, and a few sported violent injuries of their own. One hobbled along with a broken leg. Another was missing an arm. Still another looked like half her throat had been ripped out. They moved slowly and jerkily but were relentlessly closing the distance. Alan looked and gasped.

The man outside continued to yell until he realized Alan was no longer paying any attention to him. He followed Alan’s gaze. He cried out and took off running back to his car but was too late. All of the crazies attacked him at once. The driver screamed. It was an awful, bloodcurdling scream, but I couldn’t see what was happening under the pile of writhing flesh and gushing blood. Not that I wanted to.

I glanced at Alan, and then opened the door and ran.





Chapter II


Tires squealed as cars rammed into the bottleneck. Gunshots rang though the air. With Alan at my back, we sprinted away from the crazies and into the oncoming traffic.

I headed straight for the midnight blue eighteen-wheeler just rolling in, with an American flag painted on its trailer, dwarfing the vehicles around it. Even though the truck was still moving, I jumped up on the driver’s side step, pulled on the locked door handle, and pounded on the window. “Please let me in!”

The driver scowled. His eyes were covered by aviator-style sunglasses, and I couldn’t see if he was watching me, the crazies, or something else. His lower lip bulged with chew, and with a wave of his hand he motioned me away.

I tried the handle again. No luck. I risked a quick glance behind me to see that, sure enough, the group of crazies that had been huddled around a small truck was now headed this way. I swung back to the truck driver. “Please!”