Frustrated and not wanting to be left behind, Jacob lifted himself to a push-up position and brought his knees forward. He climbed up and followed the other two. He could see the patrol car clearly now. It was empty. Whoever previously occupied it was gone. Murphy and Stephens moved quickly along the shoulder, then cut diagonally across the pavement and crouched near the patrol driver’s side door. Jacob knelt by the brush guard at the hood of the car while Murphy circled it and Stephens moved around to the passenger side to look through the window.
“Keys are in it,” Stephens whispered just as they heard heavy shoes striking pavement in the distance and moving back in their direction.
Jacob ducked behind the grill of the patrol car. Without speaking, Stephens and Murphy moved back to flank him, where they watched and waited. As the footsteps grew louder, Murphy stood straight up, holding his rifle in front of him, the stock in his shoulder and the barrel still pointed down at the street. Stephens did the same, side stepping and using the vehicle for cover. Stephens looked down at Jacob cowering. “Stand up fool; get your weapon out,” he hissed under his breath. “And be ready, just in case.”
Jacob forced himself to his feet and raised the small rifle in the direction of the footsteps just as two figures emerged from the shadows. Both were police officers wearing black body armor; one cradled a shotgun, the other walked with an empty holster. They continued moving forward then stopped as they saw the trio formed up around the patrol car. The officers didn’t speak, or even as much as look at each other to communicate.
Their movements were jerky. One stepped awkwardly to the left, trying to focus on them while the one with the shotgun took a quick step forward and brought the weapon up in his arms.
“Stop; we’re with the Army,” Murphy said in a commanding voice just loud enough to be heard.
Without any warning, the unarmed officer ran at Stephens, a scream erupting from the man’s mouth. Frightened, Jacob stepped back as the other officer raised the shotgun and fired. Jacob could hear and feel the buckshot zip past his head. In tandem, Stephens and Murphy brought up their weapons and fired. Jacob watched the soldiers’ rounds tear holes through the officers’ vests. The policemen dropped to the ground dead; the shotgun clacked as it hit the pavement.
“What the hell was that?” Stephens said, moving forward and kicking the weapon away.
Jacob quickly rounded the vehicle where Murphy was already leaning over one of the officers.
“Holy shit, you guys just killed two cops!” Jacob said.
Murphy looked back at him shaking his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, lifting his gloved hand. The black oily blood clung to his fingers and dripped off in thick strings, like heavy paint.
Stephens pulled out a knife and cut a long gash down the other officer’s arm.
“No! Ahh, what the hell are you doing?” Jacob gasped in disgust.
The skin split open, revealing a dark oozing gelatinized flesh. “Yeah, these ain’t cops. We gotta get the fuck outta here, Sergeant.”
Hearing the sound of tree limbs snapping, Jacob turned his head toward the woods. More were coming, obviously attracted by the sound of gunfire.
“I said we gotta go,” Stephens repeated as he ran back to the patrol car.
Jacob turned and ran after him. Stephens was already in the driver’s side with the car running before Jacob jumped into the backseat. The passenger’s door closed with Murphy slapping the dash and yelling. “Go, go, go!”
Stephens hit the gas, the tires spun, and the car pulled away before the first of them broke the tree line. Jacob watched out of the passenger’s window as several of them ran onto the road and turned to follow the patrol car. They passed deserted cars rolled to the sides of the road, houses with broken windows and doors left to hang open, and the occasional abandoned body on a sidewalk. Stephens drove at high speed with the lights off until he hit a side street and quickly slowed to make the turn in time, the engine roaring with every maneuver. He drove for several more minutes, pulled to the curb of an empty road, coasted to a stop, and cut the engine.
Jacob looked out and knew they were only blocks from the park. There were no homes here; it was a long, empty street. A river ran parallel to the road on the left and he knew they would cross a bridge ahead that would take them to the park’s main gate. To the right stood a high “noise pollution” fence that sheltered the high-priced homes on the other side from the traffic sounds.
Stephens pressed a button, and the cars doors all locked simultaneously. “Looks like a nice enough neighborhood, but why take any chances.” He grabbed the CB radio, clicked the mic, and scanned through all of the channels only to receive interference and static. “Nothing; we can’t get our comms on this radio without the frequencies loaded. Cops must be off the net,” he said, clicking it off and letting the mic hit the floor.
“What the hell happened back there?” Jacob asked.
Murphy looked at him over the backseat. “I’d say we got away. Were you hit?”
“No, I wasn’t hit… but he shot at us!”
“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Stephens whispered. Keeping his hands on the steering wheel, he continued looking straight ahead.
“What do you mean, they do that sometimes?” Jacob asked, frustrated.
Stephens shook his head and leaned back in the seat. “It’s like some of them know.
