Free Z Children (Book 1): Awakening by Eli Constant, B.V. Barr Page B

were safe on the
grass outside my shop, I vowed to replace the storage window with a much larger
one- if owning a shop was even a practical endeavor now that I’d witnessed the
start of the freaking apocalypse.
    Sneaking around
the building slowly, we headed toward my car. Knowing that our survival might
depend on a reliable set of wheels, I kicked myself for passing up the
no-money-down sale at the local Ford dealership. As it stood, Marty and I would
be lucky to make it fifty miles before my POS bit the dust.
    As we approached
the front of my shop, I put a hand on Marty’s chest to keep him behind me.
Peering around the corner, I tried to get a look through the front glass. My
mouth went dry at the sight of Deb walking around, her face marred by the wound
where her nose once was. Izzy and Sam circled around her like stalking
predators. Every now and then, one of them would dart forward and push or bite
Deb… their mother. It was sickening, but also to our advantage. Once we darted
for the car, we’d be in full view, exposed, vulnerable.
    Taking another
deep breath, I looked at Marty. “Stay right behind me. I’ll unlock the driver’s
door and you get in first, okay? I don’t have automatic locks. Buckle up as
soon as you’re in the seat.”
    He just nodded.
    I hesitated, not
knowing how to prepare him for the sight inside my shop. “And… Marty…” I sighed
heavily, “don’t look into the shop. Just keep your eyes on my back and
concentrate on getting into the car.”
    Marty didn’t nod
this time, but his swallow of unease was thickly audible. His idle hands tugged
at the dampness of his shorts; the urine was beginning to dry and the material
couldn’t be very comfortable as it began to stiffen. The smell didn’t make me
very comfortable; that was for sure. I stared for a moment at the boy and knew
my plan wasn’t going to succeed. Marty was too small, too slow. The car was
right at the front door, ten feet away max, but it may as well have been a
mile, a mile between us and a safe getaway. By the time we made it to the car
those freaks inside would have us for lunch. Not freaks, I reminded myself.
They were… they used to be… human beings; they used to be Marty’s family. It
was callous of me to call them freaks, even mentally.
    Where we stood, we
were hidden from view so I took a moment to look around. Eventually, my eyes
came to rest on Kyle Erving’s idling collector’s item currently doubled-parked
in front of the liquor store- as it was every morning while he purchased his
daily bottle of Kentucky bourbon and cancer-causing pack of Camels. Kyle did
his best to keep his addictions a secret from his wife, but Noel wasn’t an
idiot. She knew where he went every morning and she counted the savings jar
every Friday, knowing she’d never get that Paris vacation.
    Well, this was
one time that Kyle’s feeble attempt at hiding the truth from his wife was going
to cost him. His vehicle beat the heck out of my crappy Neon. I smiled despite
my predicament. I could keep my car’s nickname Daisy, though Kyle’s 1969 Ford
Thunderbird was a nicer shade of yellow than my POS.
    I reached down
and yanked Marty off his feet, throwing his body against my side, I began to
run. The boy automatically wrapped his legs around my hip and his arms around
my neck felt like an unbreakable vise grip- little boy fingers masquerading as
locking pliers, threatening to bruise my skin. A small gasp escaped my mouth at
Marty’s unexpected grip and my abruptness did nothing to calm his nerves. As I
forced myself to run even faster, his hands only dug deeper into the soft
tissue of my neck.
    “It’s okay,
Buddy; just a change of plan!” I yelled as I bolted across the two lane road. Buddy,
why did I call him Buddy? I call Marcel Buddy… Marcel. Jesus, Sophia and Marcel
had a doctor’s appointment today. I hope Susan’s okay; I need to call her,
check on her. And then I realized I’d left my mobile phone on my desk.