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Painted Red
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Book Three Of The Burn Our Houses Down Series
Painted Red
By:
Kelsey D Garmendia
☣
Lulu
Raleigh, NC USA
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Kelsey D. Garmendia
All rights reserved, including the right of
reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
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Designed by Kelsey D. Garmendia and Lulu.com
I would like to extend my biggest thanks to Heaven Lyanne Flores for keeping me on track with this novel.
Even through the ups and downs, you kept my spirits. I couldn’t thank you enough.
The Wild
Day Zero
The Beginning: December, 2012
And with a simple decision, my entire life is gone. I left my best friend, and the only other good person in this world in the hands of the Army. I should be grateful that they’re safe, but I’m not. I feel like I made the biggest mistake of my life. It’s been hours, and I can’t bring myself to move from a rotted-out tree trunk at the edge of the forest. The gunfire ceased when the sun started setting. I lost track of time I guess. My legs throb; I haven’t ran that hard in a while.
I pull myself up along the stump and try to figure out where I am. I don’t see anything through the barren trees other than a sea of brown and white. I’ve got to get back to the hotel. All my weapons are there. My best chance of getting by until this all ends is there. The only shelter I have from the cold is my jacket. I was lucky that those monsters forgot about taking it when they brought Hayley and Aisley to me in the woods.
I start walking back in the direction I came from avoiding broken branches on the ground. The moon hovers above the trees like a beacon. It’s silent aside from my breathing. The trees tower over me like a giant’s foot waiting to come crashing down at any moment.
My fingers are numb from the cold, and I lost feeling in my feet when I let Hayley and Aisley go. I hear dull shouting from somewhere in the trees, and adrenaline floods my veins—movement about a hundred meters to my left. I duck behind a tree and hold my breath.
“Where the fuck could he have gone?”
“Do I look like a god damned GPS, man?”
“Listen asshole, we lost a lot of us. They were my friends too. So, I’d appreciate if you cut out the sarcastic remarks.”
“Fuck off, Randall!”
A gunshot snaps and then another. I peek around the tree and squint into the woods. I still don’t make out any bodies, but I hear them getting closer.
“Jesus Christ, Earl!”
“Will you shut up! There isn’t gonna be any fighting or disagreements here anymore.”
Silence.
“Get the bodies and head back,” the guy they call Earl says. “At least something good came out of killing those two assholes. We’re gonna have something to eat tonight.”
I take a step around the tree and land my foot directly on top of an old branch. The crack booms throughout the forest and deafens my ears.
“Who’s that?”
“Did you hear that?”
“Someone’s listening to us out there.”
A gunshot goes off and grazes my arm. I bite down on my tongue so hard, I taste blood. It takes everything in my power not to make a sound.
“You’re wasting bullets, Earl.”
“What would you do? Waste bullets or get whoever it is stalking us?”
I breathe through my nostrils trying to get the fiery pain to stop. The voices get drowned out by the sound of my pounding heartbeat. I strain to hear, but all I catch is muffled yelling.
The wetness reaches in between my fingertips. I don’t have anything to wrap it with so I squeeze tighter. A light pops into my vision. I look around the tree trunk and see more white orbs flip on through the trees.
My heart pounds harder in my ears. Think Xavier. Think! I push myself up against the tree trunk and run in the direction back towards the fort. They have guns. Guns mean cover fire.
I take off through the trees. Branches whip against my face creating new stinging cuts. I can hear the shouting behind me now. The stone walls ahead of me glow in the moonlight through the woods. I make it to the front doors without getting another bullet hole. A new soldier stands outside in a thick camouflage jacket.
“On your left,” I hear. The soldier turns and aims. I raise my hand of my hurt arm.
“He’s wounded,” the soldier says.
I watch the head of another soldier pop up from a tower wall. “Corporal says no,” he says. “Clear him out.”
I don’t have time to protest. Gunfire from behind me tears through the forest. I grip my wound and bolt into the woods. I don’t look back. I can’t look back. I’m already closer to the hotel, and that’s exactly where I need to be.
* * *
I can’t believe I did that. I left them. I left Hayley and Aisley with a bunch of strangers. How the hell do I know if they’re the good guys? They could be worse than the people chasing me. I promised her that I would be there for her. Doesn’t that mean that I have some sort of obligation to keep her safe?
No. Stop it Xavier. You made the logical decision. So what if they wouldn’t take me in? Hayley’s guts were pouring out of her stomach, and Aisley is a kid. They knew I could fend for myself. That’s why they sent me on my way. But why did they say I would never see her again? Hayles, what did I do?
The sun peaks over the tree tops into the third floor window of my room at the hotel. I finally found my way back after running through the night. Most of the cannibals who pursued me were picked off by the soldiers at the fort—the rest stalked me looking for blood. I scrounged up whatever food I could from the lobby and hid in a closet for what seemed like years.
I feel the hole in my gut now. It burns around the edges. I’m sure it’s the festering infection from leaving Hayley half dead in the hands of people I didn’t trust. But only time will tell.
I open a muffin and force a couple bites down. I’ll go back tomorrow. Something will change, I’m sure of it. They probably needed me to lead the cannibals away from the front doors to the fort. Yeah, that makes sense. But if that were true, why did it feel like I said goodbye to Hayley? Why do things feel final? Why do I feel loneliness creeping into my skull?
I peel off my shirt and look down at the graze mark. It’s not that deep, but I need medical supplies to clean it. “I’ve gotta go back out there, don’t I?” I let my head fall back with a sigh until I’m looking up at the florescent light in the bathroom. I run some water over my wounds to clean out whatever dirt made its way in while I ran from the cannibals.
A dull sound of voices travel from outside the building. I shut off the water and crawl over to the window. Two men in plaid shirts stand directly below me. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I can tell they’re fighting. Most likely fighting about where I went.
I tear a piece of the bed sheets off and tie it around my wound. I throw my shirt back on wincing when I move my muscles around my bullet grazes. No weapons. Wonderful. I hope I can run with this much pain.
The forest surrounding the hotel has no noise. I sprint across the small parking lot and into the woods without looking back. The sound of my feet pounding against the snow keeps me moving. I have to circle wide around the fort. I don’t want to risk be shot at again.
I reach a main road and spot the familiar blue squ
are with a white H in the middle indicating where the hospital is. Not going all the way back to town has its perks; don’t have to go to a supermarket probably packed with those freaks. I take off through the woods again in the general direction of the hospital.
Screaming fills the air as I make my way closer to the hospital. An ambulance flies up to the emergency room exit. Two men dressed in street clothes hop out of the front and swing open the back doors; a woman covered in blood lays lifeless on a gurney.
I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see a group of men and woman with rifles stalking through the woods towards the hospital. I take off toward the chaos and through the emergency room doors.
The yelling deafens my ears. People sprint around the emergency room stealing anything they can. A gunshot goes off and a nurse in blue scrubs collapses to the floor. A dull growling keeps the chaos moving.
I run around the desk and into an exam room. A man shoves me into the wall and presses a scalpel into my throat. “What was the last thing you ate?” he growls.
“What?”
“Do you eat people!”
“No! No dammit! I need bandages. I was shot by those psychos,” I yell. The blade depresses from my neck. He slams the door and wedges a chair under the door handle. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I used to be a doctor here,” he says. “I’ll clean and dress your wounds, but only if you help me get the hell out of here.”
“If I can get in here, then you can find your way out—”
“Please,” he says. “I don’t know how to fire a gun—”
“What makes you think I can?”
“You look like you’ve been on the move for a while,” he responds. “Skins pale, emaciated features, teeth mostly like chipped or knocked out—what I’m saying is, you look like you know how to survive.”
I glance down at the knife and back up at him. My arm throbs. He is trained to do this. He’ll be my best bet at keeping this wound clean. A staph infection now could be mean certain death. “What’s the catch?”
“Nothing,” he says in a pinched voice. “I’m just scared and I want to get back to my family. I haven’t seen them in months. I don’t even know if they’re alive.”
“You’ve been here this whole time?”
“Yes,” he responds. “The hospitals have been full with patients that—they seem like have some sort of dementia, Alzheimer’s perhaps. Tremors are common as well. Then the rage sets in.
Most of my nurses were killed within the first few weeks by combative patients. I’ve seen death in my lifetime, but nothing so relentless as these patients. Then the food went missing and once the police were out of the picture—” He looks down at the knife in his hand and swallows with a whimper. “A group of men are taking over this hospital. They’re using our operating rooms as butcher shops. I’ve been hiding in basement with some janitorial staff, but we got separated in our attempt to leave. I think they might be dead.”
A pounding on the door makes us both jump. “Shit,” I whisper. I look around the room for an exit. A small window above the cabinets lets a sliver of light on the wall. I point up there and boost myself up on the counter. No movement on this side of the hospital.
“It opens if you push on it,” the doctor says. “Fire safety protocol.” I push on it with my good arm. The window pane slides open with ease.
“Grab whatever you need now,” I whisper. The doctor rips the plastic bag out of the trash can and fills it with supplies from multiple drawers. He tosses the bag up to me and I shove them through the opening.
“There’s someone in there,” a muffled voice from the other side of the door says. The banging on the door rattles the chair propping it closed. I climb through the window and reach out a hand for the doctor. He scales the counter just as the door bursts open. “Hey!”
I pull him through the opening and slam the window shut. “Come on,” I respond. “There’s a hotel—”
“I want to go to the fort!” he says. “They said they’re taking survivors there!”
“We’ll go tomorrow then,” I respond. “Remember you said you’d patch me up first?”
The window opens from the exam room. “Let me get at him first!”
“No, that fucker goes to Earl!”
Both the doctor and I sprint in the direction of the woods. “You know where you’re going right?”
“Yes,” I respond. “I just ran these woods fifteen minutes ago. Trust me.”
“Sorry. Kinda hard to know who you can trust these days.”
The screaming dies down as we whip through the forest. Eventually all I hear is our feet thumping against the frozen snow. I notice after about five minutes of running that the doctor is severely out of shape. He huffs in air and keeps up a pace about as fast as a snail.
“If you want to stay alive, you’re gonna have to move faster than you are right now—”
“I’m forty years old,” he responds. “The last time I ran was to the grocery store—and by ran and I mean drove. In a car.”
“Tough shit,” I respond. “Get moving.” The sign shines through the trees like a faded beacon of hope. “It’s just on the other side of this set of trees. I can see it from here.”
He nods and picks up the pace to a steady jog. I duck beneath the dry brush just outside of the hotel’s entrance. “I see a guy,” the doctor whispers. “He’s just inside the doorway.”
“I propped open the emergency exit which will bring us straight to my room,” I respond. “Stay covered. We’re gonna run around the other side.” The doctor nods and ducks down lower in the brush.
We make it to the other side of the hotel and sprint to the door. I swing open the door and guide the doctor in then, remove the prop from the door’s hinge and pull it closed. “Follow me,” I whisper.
We take the stairs two at a time until we reach my floor. I check the hallway and nod once when I see everything’s clear. We sneak into my room and close the door behind us.
The doctor collapses onto his knees and kisses the carpeted floor. “I never thought I’d be so happy to be in a tacky hotel,” he says in between heavy breaths. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” I respond removing my shirt. “Now, fix this damn hole in my arm.”
* * *
“Make sure to keep it wrapped,” the doctor says. “Change the bandages at least once a day. I definitely would recommend you find a safer place to stay.”
“This is where I need to be,” I respond. “But thank you.”
“I know that you don’t know me,” he says. “But you’re more than welcome to come stay with my family and I. My house isn’t too far from the fort. And I promise that we’re good people.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I say shaking his hand. “Safe travels.”
“You as well.” The doctor swings his lab coat over his scrubs and heads toward the door. “I just realized, I never got your name?”
“Xavier,” I respond.
“Jude,” he says. “Stay safe out here Xavier.”
I nod. A small part of me wants to go with him once he disappears on the other side of the door, but I know I can’t leave now. Not with safety so close.
The End Of January
My boots squish in the mud with each step I take towards the edge of the forest. A kid limps up to the front doors of the fort. I hear him call something out, but can’t understand what it is he’s saying. A soldier kneels down to his height and holds out his arms. They disappear into the fort together, and my heart sinks a little further; three people in three days.
The soldier returns to their post and stands flush against the stone wall. I pull my feet out of the mud and climb my look-out tree. I don’t see much movement aside from the soldier on the ground. Two more stand in towers on either sides of the front doors with what looks like .50 caliber sniper rifles. Other than the front entrance, it doesn’t seem like there’s any other way into the fort.
“Have you seen that guy Earl was talking
about?”
I look down and spot two men walking in my direction. I push myself up against the trunk of the tree.
“No, but I think someone saw him run off towards town.”
“I don’t know. I heard Tommy saying something about that rickety hotel looking like someone was in there.”
“Ain’t there food there?”
“Not anymore. Tommy took it all back to the house.”
“To eat?”
“Nah, so we can bribe more people to come with us.”
They both laugh, and my stomach flips. I dig my fingernails into the bark. What the hell is wrong with them?
“That should get more people to come back to the house with us.”
“God, I love the way they taste when they’ve got food in ‘em.”
“Oh yeah, I totally agree with you man,” the other one says nudging his partner in the shoulder. “You know, I’ve been craving it these days. The hunger is unbearable. It’s all I can think about.”
“I know. Me too,” the other one says. “I can’t wait until we can overrun the fort. I bet you they’re all well fed in there.”
“Stop it man, I’m drooling over here.”
I hold down the vomit. These are real people that were out in the real world a couple months ago. Disgusting.
“Come on, let’s get back to the house. I’m sure someone hauled something in while we were out.”
“Yeah, I’m starved.”
They walk off in the opposite direction of the fort. I wait until their out of earshot to vomit on the forest floor. I shimmy my way down the tree and into the mud.
Xavier, you’ve got to leave that hotel. It’s suicide if you go back.
“Well, if I do, I’ll be farther from the fort,” I say answering myself. “I can’t give up on Hayley and Aisley. I made a promise to them both. Who knows what’s happening in there?”