Crimson Awakening

Chapter 3

Rey’s truck was fast approaching the Texas border. He turned on the radio then scanned for news. For a moment, he feared the noise would wake up Eve. The humming and soft rocking of the truck did wonders with his little girl’s sleeping habits.

It’s better she isn’t bouncing around, asking about her mama. He glanced at the digital clock. 5:47. She’ll be down for at least three more hours.

He found a radio station transmitting out of Amarillo, and the news wasn’t good. They labeled it an “infestation” and provided patchy but mostly unreliable information. One thing was sure: zombies were here, and they were real. Hell, I have one in the back of my trailer.

The news stopped abruptly, and the Emergency Alert System signal transmitted through the speakers. His phone beeped; the same alert message covered the screen. He ignored it and continued to listen to the radio.

“… The infection is spreading fast. Please cooperate with local authorities, stay home, or seek immediate shelter …”

Right, like the authorities can help …

Rey checked the clock again, wondering if he should call Jenkins back. It had been two hours. Maybe the guy sobered up by now. Rey figured another hour might be enough.

His survival instincts perked up, and he imagined a society where chaos was descending rapidly—shortages of fuel, food, water, communication collapsing, and God knew what else. Maybe I’m getting too paranoid, but …

In the distance, the lights of Shamrock, Texas twinkled. The small town was just waking up to the news, and as he approached, the highway traffic on the opposite side intensified.

Alarm sounds blared, fire trucks and police car emergency lights spiked the limp morning light, and a column of smoke rose from the center of the town. He pressed on the gas pedal, the rig’s speed climbing up to ninety miles per hour.

Out of nowhere, images of meeting Gabi for the first time poured into Rey’s mind.

She had caught his eye when bartending at The Drunk Rabbit pub in downtown, Reykjavik. It had been the day he’d been promoted to sergeant, leader of his Delta Squad, and had gone out to celebrate with Jenkins and a few other fellows.

Several months before, Gabi had graduated from college in the States and had decided to take a couple of months off. She had gotten a job bartending on a cruise ship, and when they had anchored in Reykjavik, Iceland, she had liked the place so much that she had decided to stay for a while. Noticing the “Bartender for Hire” ad in the window, she had walked in The Drunk Rabbit pub and was hired on the spot.

He had liked her the moment he had set eyes on her. A fiery, dark-haired beauty in her mid-twenties, she had moved fast and efficiently behind the bar.

When she had threatened to stop serving a group of rowdy customers, Rey had smiled and sat at the bar. He’d been a bit tipsy but … hey! I got promoted today, so … why the hell not?

He had thought of several clever lines to drop on her, but a more daring and borderline suicidal idea had entered his foggy brain.

“Hey, you forgot your b*a at my place last night. Wanna go for coffee and talk about getting it back?” Rey had asked with a most serious face.

Gabi had gasped then narrowed her emerald eyes behind long eyelashes, glaring at him. She had served drinks to thousands of men and had heard enough pickup lines to write a book, yet she had never heard that one before.

The corners of her mouth had gone up a smidge, and Rey, as tipsy as he was, picked up on it. She looked at the guy, liking the impressive physique, the honest face, and superhero-like chin. Behind Rey’s steely blue eyes and the closely cropped blond hair, Gabi sensed the martial look was hiding a Teddy bear character.

Like the rest of his squad, Reynir Halldor was a little over seven feet tall. With Danish and Norwegian genes passed on from generation to generation, Reynir relentlessly sculpted his body by spending a borderline psychotic amount of time in the gym.

While participating in the strong man competition, the Icelandic military had welcomed his skills and offered him a spot in the Delta Squad, which specialized in anti-terrorism intelligence, surveillance, and infiltration.

“Sure. Why not? Pick me up at ten tonight,” Gabi said.

Rey almost fell off his chair. He had expected a resounding slap across his face but had scored a solid date.

He swallowed hard and blinked fast. “Perfect. I’ll see you at ten. Tonight,” he said, saluting with two fingers.

Gabi smiled, and his heart melted.

“You better sleep it off, papa bear. I’m not going out with a drunk,” she said, wiping the counter, although the surface was spotless.

“Aye, aye, Miss …?”

“Gabriela … but friends call me Gabi.”

“And what does a foe call you?” he asked, attempting to sound smart.

She narrowed her eyes again. “Stick around, and you’ll find out.”

Rey instantly sobered up. “Okay, Gabi, I’ll see you at ten then.”

She nodded, crossed her arms, and glared at him with a get-the-hell-outta-here look.

He saluted smartly, took his stomach butterflies with him, and left.

That night, they had walked and talked, and when the morning had arrived, she’d said, “I like you, Rey. You’re like a big fluffy bear. Come see me again and … okay?”

The rest was history.

Shortly after a tour in Afghanistan, Eve had been born and Reynir Halldor had quit the squad. He’d married Gabi, emigrated to America, and had settled as a family in the quiet town of Spring Grove, Minnesota. They had bought a truck and, ever since, had crisscrossed the country many times, delivering goods throughout the land.

I need weapons. The thought came out of nowhere.

What if these creatures were to attack him? Or Eve? He shuddered at the thought and focused on the road ahead.

The morning sun peaked from behind and bathed the trailer in a warm embrace. Would she be hot in the trailer?

As the rig passed a cemetery on the right, Rey casually glanced at it. Something moved. He slowed down, convinced his brain was playing tricks on him.

The hell with it. He pushed the brakes and pulled over onto the shoulder. Keeping the engine running, Rey turned toward the sleeper of the rig and listened intently. Silence.

It’s crazy, but I gotta see it.

He locked the cabin and climbed down. Behind the sleeper, he then grabbed a tire iron cross from the toolbox.

Across the field, he watched in astonishment as people crawled out of the ground. I really gotta see this. He jumped over a small, barbed wire fence and strode toward the spectacle.

A woman with a foul face and crumpled clothes glared at him from a distance. She bared crooked teeth then broke into a sprint toward him. Behind her, other branch-like arms pierced the surface of the dirt and wiggled toward the sky, more coming out of the earthly embrace.

Rey didn’t break his stride and, as soon as the zombie reached him, he swung the tire iron. She flew back a few yards before crumbling to the ground.

The hit to the head was so devastating that it had almost decapitated her. The head dangled, barely holding on at the end by ropy tendons and ligaments. Yellow puss gurgled in her throat, and dark blood seeped through her ghoulish eyes. Her limbs twitched as the eyeballs followed Rey’s moves. Her jaw continued to snap and teeth chattered, still hungry for human flesh.

Rey glared at her in disgust, the stench of death and decay fouling the air. Strangely, the smell brought back memories of an old Viking long boat that he had once visited in a museum back in Reykjavik.

A cold chill went down his spine, and he shook off the feeling of dread.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught more movement. A second zombie wriggled his way out of the dirt. Rey braced himself for a second attack. Here we go again …

The newly aborted abomination crawled out and scowled.

As Rey gripped his tire iron, more limbs struck the dirt and broken fingernails at the end of skeletal hands reached outward. Never known for backing out of a fight, Rey knew the numbers were not in his favor. One more, and I’m outta here.

The zombie crouched low to the ground. He crawled on all fours, like a spider, and dashed toward him with mind-dizzying speed. To meet the zombie at his level, Rey dropped to his knees and swung the tire iron. With just a few yards to go, the zombie jumped up and, within a blink of an eye, was upon Rey.

Somewhat stunned by the sudden move, Rey missed the swing and collapsed under the zombie’s weight. With one hand, he grabbed the zombie by the throat and, with the other, forced the head backward. It snapped like a twig, causing big fat worms to fall out of the decayed skull.

Rey jolted back to his feet. What the f**k was that?

As more gurgles and shrieks pierced his surroundings, Rey glanced over his shoulder. The time for fighting was over. He bolted back to the truck.

Behind him, six zombies exploded in a mad race, running across the grassy field.

Rey jumped the barbed wire fence, hoping the small barrier would trip or at least slow them down enough for him to make it back to the safety of the rig. However, a more ambitious zombie got tangled in the wire and took the entire fence down with him. Rey cursed himself for locking the doors, but his daughter’s safety was more important.

He leaped between the rig’s sleeper and the trailer, hoisting himself up onto the cabin. Sounds of bone crushing against the shiny fenders of the Volvo blasted behind him. Huh, that was close …

The zombies growled at the human, and a couple shrieked with frustration. One vomited blood on the right headlight, while the rest extended twisted hands toward Rey.

Just then, the window of the passenger seat slid down, and the sweet voice of an angel jingled from the cabin, “What are you doing up there, Papa?”