Her roving gaze fixed onto a narrow alleyway across the street. It appeared to be empty. At least, she hoped it was. Either way, it was her only hope, and she shifted closer until she reached the tail end of the minibus. She could go no further. Not without the cover of darkness. Dropping into a low crouch, she waited.
And waited.
With every second that passed, the zombies drew closer, moving in on her position from two sides. Terror spurted through her veins, but she dared not make a run for it. Not yet.
A chill breeze swirled around her collar, and the clouds above drifted across the bright face of the moon. Immediately, Tamara lunged across the open street, praying she wouldn’t be spotted. She’d almost made it when the light returned, and she jumped the last few steps into the safety of the alleyway. Thank God.
Without waiting, she dashed through the narrow corridor and headed toward the other side. Surely, it would be empty. The horde couldn’t have reached that far. Not yet. Hope filled her breast. Hope that she’d be able to find a hiding spot. An open shop or office. Anything.
Instead, she stumbled to a stop when she spotted more zombies milling around in the street ahead. Their low groans filled her ears, and the smell of their decaying bodies washed across her nostrils.
With a muttered curse, Tamara dropped to her haunches behind a metal dumpster. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, and her cells cried out for oxygen. Her frantic gaze searched for an escape route, but there was none. Bitter tears burned her eyelids as she realized the truth. She was trapped. Is this how it ends? Caught like a rat in a trap?
Tamara shook her head and muttered below her breath. “No way. Not a chance. I’m not dying today. Not like that.”
She ran her hands across the side of the dumpster and tested the lid. It lifted up easily enough, and she probed the inside with questing fingers. It was filled with plastic bags, but there was enough space for her to crawl inside.
Without wasting another second, she clambered into the metal bin. The smell made her eyes water, and she nearly hurled on the spot when her hand landed in something soft and squishy. An insect crawled across her face, and she slapped at the offending creature with a surprised yelp only to clamp her lips shut with a horrified gasp. Be quiet!
Cushioned by the waste below, Tamara curled her body into a protective ball. She closed the lid, leaving only a tiny gap for fresh air. With her fingers pressed to her lips, she waited.
It didn’t take long for the first infected to stumble into the alleyway. Within minutes, they were bumping and grinding past the dumpster in growing numbers. The bin shook and shuddered, and she clung to the lid with both hands until her muscles cramped.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and fear played tricks on her mind. She longed to burst from her hiding spot and make a run for it. Anything would be better than just lying there doing nothing. They’ll find me. I know they will. I’m a sitting duck.
But, she didn’t move. Didn’t act on the wild impulses that would’ve caused her certain death. Instead, Tamara closed her eyes and thought of happier times. Afternoons filled with sunshine and laughter. Days before the dead rose to plague the living. This will pass. They will pass. All I need to do is wait.
***
Maria Guadalupe Espinoza used to be a beautiful woman before the Vita virus took control of her brain and body. In many ways, she still was if you could ignore the obvious signs of decay. Her high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and smooth brow spoke of a proud heritage, and her waist-length hair rippled down her back like an ebony waterfall. Unfortunately, her golden skin had taken on an ashen hue, and her full lips were drawn back in a predatory grimace.
It was in her hometown Dallas where she first heeded the call of the horde. A large group streamed in from the south, driven by the virus. Restless and hungry, she fell into their midst and followed the front runners east until they met up with another, larger horde from Austin. Together, they shifted to the north-east, their trajectory placing them on a collision path with Fort Detrick. Unbeknownst to Maria, another group of infected were moving up from Florida, making their way to the north. Together, they numbered in the tens of thousands with more swelling their ranks each day—an army of the undead.
None of that mattered to Maria. All she cared about was the need to feed. It drove her ever onward in the search for food, and instinct told her it would be more abundant in the warmer climes. She didn’t realize she was being controlled by the virus and its need to make more of her kind. She didn’t know, and if she had known, she wouldn’t have cared.
A rat dashed across her path, bewildered and trapped by a cage of feet and legs. Many hands reached for the rodent, but Maria swiped them aside with an angry snarl. Her fingers closed around the fat, wriggling body, and she lifted it to her lips. Her ravenous teeth bit into its warm flesh and tore off a mouthful. The rat squealed in agony before another infected latched onto its head and ripped it clean off. Within seconds, there was nothing left but a single bloody claw that was quickly trampled into the dust.
Maria’s hands dropped back to her sides, and her brain returned to a fugue state. Barely aware of her surroundings, she continued on her way, bare feet dragging across the tar. She was part of a larger being now—an amorphous beast with thousands of arms and legs motivated by a single purpose: Feed.
Chapter 1 - Alex
Alex raked up the last of the dead leaves into
