Tracking Blood: Episode 19

An apocalyptic serial

Table of Contents

Note: The main story is free to read for everyone, however paid subscribers will have access to many longer episodes that include extra scenes, characters, and sub-plots. Consider subscribing to enjoy the expanded story, as well as to support the author.

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The D.C. Armory was a ten-thousand seat stadium topped by a huge, curved ceiling with suspended lights. Originally built as an armory during World War Two, now it was mostly used to hold concerts and sporting events.

Tanya and Ryan sat in the stands. On the open court below, the group was collecting all their things in one place, while others were fanning out to look around. “Remember we went to a roller derby match here?” she asked Ryan.

“I remember.”

“That was fun. I think you enjoyed it.”

“It’s a bunch of girls in shorts pushing each other around, what’s not to like?”

She shook her head at him and grinned. “You’re growing up way too fast on me.”

Max was in his element on the court below, ordering people around with his pitbull Herman at his feet. It wouldn’t be long before he assigned Tanya and Ryan some task to complete. Considering they were being kept safe by these people- and they still didn’t have their guns back- it would be hard to refuse any requests he made. She appreciated what he’d done for them, saving her and Ryan from certain death in front of Donegan’s shop, but it didn’t mean she had to like him.

Angry voices rose from the court, quickly turning to shouts. An argument had broken out between two men. The men, one much taller than the other, started shoving each other as others shouted for them to stop. Tanya squeezed Ryan’s hand to let him know he was safe.

A few others, including Max, closed in on the two, pulling them apart. After a bit more arguing, the tall guy took a swing at Max. Max ordered him to be taken out of the room. Things calmed down after that, but a while later the guy still hadn’t come back.

Tanya worried about how Max was running the show. She stood up from her seat and walked down the steps, crossing the open floor to approach him.

“Where did you take him?” she asked.

Max turned to see who was addressing him. “Who?”

“You know who.”

“I sent him to search the armory. He needed to cool down.”

“Sure.”

He looked her up and down, then glanced up at Ryan in the seats. “What are you two doing?”

“Waiting.”

“Sitting on your asses, you mean. We don’t play favorites here. Everyone has to pull their weight.”

Tanya put her hands on her hips. “I have no problem with that.”

“Good. You can start by clearing out the bodies.” He pointed to a small group by one of the side entrances who were putting on gloves and surgical masks. Tanya’s expression wavered. She looked down at Herman, who licked his lips at her. “Is there a problem?” Max asked.

“No,” she replied. “No problem.”

He chuckled to himself. “Don’t forget to wipe your feet. This is our home now. I expect you to treat it that way.”

Tanya waved for Ryan to join her as she walked away from Max and Herman. “How did it go?” Ryan asked.

“We’re on body detail.”

“Okay, so not very good.”

They hooked up with the small cleanup crew and took two sets of gloves and masks before following them out into the hallway. Then they began dragging bodies and piling them by the exits to be dumped outside. Ryan stared at the face of a dead girl whose neck was covered in bites. He had the girl’s feet while Tanya had her by the arms.

“You okay?” she asked him.

“I’m pretending they’re movie props.”

“Don’t do that.”

He looked up at her, his concentration broken. “Why not?”

“If you pretend the dead don’t matter, it’s not long before you do the same with the living. These were people, not things.”

They rounded the corner and headed toward the pile of bodies. “I know it’s not easy, but you can’t tune out to make things easier on yourself. Being numb isn’t the same as being strong.”

They laid the girl’s body down next to the others. As Tanya looked around, she noticed a few of the corpses looked relatively clean. No bites. No red eyes. She thought back to the gunfire when they’d arrived. They were told to wait in the bus while the others cleared out the armory. It took a while, but eventually the others reemerged and gave the signal to join them.

Max said there were no survivors inside, only infected. More and more, she had serious doubts about how honest he was being with them.

As they walked away from the pile of bodies, Tanya leaned in toward Ryan. “I don’t like what’s happening here. We have to get to the-”

“What are you two whispering about?” CiCi, the black girl with the machine gun, had come up behind them.

“I’m talking to my son. I’m still allowed to do that, aren’t I?”

CiCi scowled at her. “Get back to work.”

“Before there’s two more bodies to clean up?”

CiCi smirked at her as she walked away. “Something like that,” she replied.

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Stanley’s van weaved along the private road. The partially melted tire tracks of Will’s truck were still visible from the first trip back to town, mixed with occasional footprints that had appeared since. The morning sun blanketed the snow, lending a peaceful glow to the scene.

Stanley looked down at the bandage wrapped around his arm. He winced as he thought back on the cabin, especially the part with Will aiming the gun at him. He’d seen the look in his brother’s eyes, that look that told Stanley everything he needed to know.

His brother was capable of pulling that trigger. He knew things were bad between them, but in that moment, the distance between them became clearer than ever.

Except Will didn’t pull the trigger on him. Instead, he’d shouted to duck and fired inches over his head as Stanley moved out of the way. A scream came. Stanley didn’t look, but he felt a weight land on his back and then the snow on his face as he hit the ground.

A terrible pain shot up his arm. Stanley knew in that moment, knew with certainty, that he was dead. More gunshots. Will pulled him to his feet.

One of the infected on the ground was dead, the other bleeding but alive. Will cursed as another came at them from the trees. More of them had followed Will and Stanley through the woods.

Will was shouting in his ear and then they were running, running, out of breath, running toward the cabin. They got to the van, a miracle itself.

In a daze, Stanley used the keys to open the driver’s side door. Stanley jumped in first, then Will pushed him in and took the driver’s seat. He closed the door as the two other infected ran at them. Will said something about having to leave the rest of the supplies in the cabin, but Stanley already knew that. He didn’t care about that right then. Looking down at his arm, he didn’t care much about anything.

It was a scratch, nothing more. He wasn’t dead.

After they’d driven out of there, Stanley patched up his arm with the first aid kit in the back before they headed back to town. Will drove carefully around his overturned truck and the delivery truck that had it pinned. Both the driver and the infected were gone.

He continued through town until they came to the small creek bridge where the group of infected had been attacking the snow plow. The plow was still in the same spot, but the infected were no longer there.

As Will slowly pulled up next to the snow plow, they noticed someone had shattered the side window. There was no need to get out and check on the plow driver, they could see the bloody mess inside the truck just fine from where they were. Bits of sticky flesh were stuck to the windshield, and what looked like a foot was resting on the dashboard.

“If they can get into a truck like that, we might need a tank to get to D.C.,” Stanley remarked.

“We’ll have to settle for being smart,” Will replied.

There was a flash of motion from under the bridge, then another under the snow plow. The infected came out of the woodwork like cockroaches with the lights turned off.

“So much for smart,” Stan grumbled.

Will put the van into drive and stepped on the gas as the infected converged on the van. One of them leapt and hit the front grill. The van fishtailed, but Will regained control. They sped away, the cluster of hungry infected running and screaming after them.

A banging echoed from the front of the van. One of them had clung to it somehow. “We need to take care of that,” Will said, taking a sharp turn at speed.

Stanley checked the side-view mirror. The others hadn’t fallen far behind, which meant they couldn’t slow down to deal with the thing hanging off the front of the van.

Will took another turn onto a country highway. They’d gotten a little distance from the town, and though they couldn’t see the others following them, he knew the monsters couldn’t be far behind. He tried again to shake the infected from the van, but the creature held on.

It crawled up over the hood and looked at them through the windshield. It was a woman, or it used to be. She was naked and covered in rotting bite-marks. She bashed the van’s hood with her fist, screaming into the wind. Will tried to shake her loose again. She struck the hood a second time, denting it.

“That’s it, hold on,” Will said.

As she raised both fists, ready to smash them down, Will stomped on the brake pedal. The van’s tires screeched on pavement, launching the infected woman off the van. She tumbled down the street, a bloody rag doll rolling in a jumble of limbs before she came to a stop.

After a moment, she stirred. Will floored it again, aiming directly at her. Her head bounced off the bumper. The vehicle jumped and jostled over her body and she let out a final scream before being silenced completely.

Will glanced at Stanley, and both men couldn’t help but smile. They were finally on the road.

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