Candice Olson sat atop the warehouse near where the vines had reached the roof. She constantly scanned the area around the building looking for anything moving below. In the darkness, she used thermal view, and after the long months following the outbreak, had figured out the difference in the heat signatures of an infected and a non-infected. Although she knew that Hatch was back, she had never seen him approach, nor did she hear anything until the large steel door slammed shut. She smiled, knowing he was safe and back inside. It was hard enough being out and about with the others, but at night, it just seemed worse. They had a bad habit of showing up out of nowhere and in large numbers.
In recent history, the others had begun forming up in packs, much like wild dogs. She supposed that hunting in numbers increased the chances of a meal. She had once had the misfortune of seeing what they did to a person they made a meal out of. Usually, nothing was left but a few bones, and even those had scrapes across them from teeth. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought and pulled her jacket in tighter.
Hearing a crashing sound in the distance, Candy hunkered close to the wall and peered over the edge with the thermal binoculars. She scanned the area and heard a similar sound again. It was off to her right, in the trees where she couldn’t make out anything. Every now and then a flash of color would show up moving quickly through the trunks, but she couldn’t make out any discernible shapes. She heard another clanging, crashing sound and watched as two people burst from the tree line and bolted across the warehouse parking area. As soon as they were in the clearing of the lot, heat signatures from all sides began pouring out and rushing toward the pair.
Candy reached for her belt and pulled her radio. “We have incoming!” she whispered loudly. “They’re being chased by Zulus.”
“Are they hot?” came the static-filled reply.
“Negative.” Candy continued to watch through the thermal binoculars as the pair ran in the general direction of the warehouse. “They’re headed toward us.”
“Wait one.” The radio hissed and crackled with the reply.
“They don’t have one!” she nearly yelled as she followed the frantic pair.
With the howls of the pursuers and the screams in the distance, Candy never heard the steel door being opened, nor did she hear the calls to the running couple, but she watched as they suddenly changed course and began running toward the warehouse entrance. She sighed inwardly and reached for her rifle. Wally had fitted the barrel with a suppressor to keep noise to a minimum, and she levelled the weapon across the edge of the building, sighting in on the running figures below. There wasn’t a lot of moonlight, but she could see well enough to take out the lead runner. She took a bead on the next attacker and dropped it as well. She purposely skipped the next one. It was obviously a child before it had been turned and she still couldn’t bring herself to shoot a child, even though they were just as dangerous as the adult Zulus.
She continued firing until she emptied the magazine, then slipped back behind the edge of the roof and waited, hoping the others would either lose interest and leave, or hunt elsewhere. Moments later, she heard banging on the metal door below and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what would be asked of her if they didn’t stop soon, and she didn’t want to do it. She had spotted children in the crazed crowd.
It didn’t take long for the radio to bark back to life. “Drop the heat on them.” Candy lowered her head and could feel the moisture threatening to escape as she debated telling the radio voice to go to hell. Instead, she stood and picked up one of the Molotov cocktails scattered about the roof and lit the rag hanging out the top. As she walked to the edge of the building, she looked down at the growing number of Zulus packed around the door and let the flaming bottle slip from her fingers. She turned her face at the last moment to not have to see what happened next. She knew from prior experience.
The wave of heat that climbed the wall washed over her and she heard the screams from the creatures below. She didn’t need the thermal binoculars to see the flaming creatures as they ran into the night, setting some of the dry grass and smaller tinder afire as they ran from the source of their pain. As the screaming and pounding faded from her hearing, Candy chanced a glance over the edge. She nearly lost her supper when she saw the lone scorched figure laying prone on the ground by the door, parts of its body still aflame, crushed by the larger creatures in their haste to escape the fire. It was one of the children.
Denny Wallace stood by the steel door as the pair ran through the opening and helped the guard slam the door shut behind them, Zulus beating on the metal as soon as the bolt was thrown. “What the hell were you doing out there at night?”
The pair collapsed to the floor, sucking in air as they tried to catch their breath. The male counterpart tried to meet his eyes, but quickly turned away. Between ragged gasps, he answered, “Scrounging for food.”
The female clung to him for dear life, her eyes jumping from face to face as she took in her surroundings. Denny shook his head in disgust as he assessed the pair lying on the concrete floor. “We could have lost the entire compound because of you two.” He looked
