The Virus Within: The Unranked (Book 4)

Ch. 30: That's Not A Pigeon

The Runner landed on several zombies and caused a rather interesting domino effect in the tightly-packed crowd. He was also the fastest one to get to his feet and stumbled across the squirming, snarling carpet.

Other zombies staggered on top of the fallen, only seeing an open path to the truck, which resulted in many of them tripping and falling as the ones below thrashed. I tilted my head and watched the ensuing mayhem that had more in common with a comic book bar fight than a bunch of zombies set on hunting humans.

It was a chaotic scene where dozens of zombies had fallen on top of one another and struggled to fight off those next to them while trying to stand up. Like a bad game of Twister with fifty participants, it wasn't working well for the zombies either, and they kept falling down and snarling insults at one another. Some simply kept crawling toward the truck.

The Runner was more coordinated and only fell a few times, quickly rising. He also seemed to pick the more open areas and was halfway across before most of the zombies managed to get back up.

I remained on top of the car, still swinging the snacks at shoulder height. It seemed to work, and the Runner remained focused on the food. Once he was closer, I jumped to the ground and ambled to the bus door, making sure I didn't leave his line of sight.

The other zombies I passed didn't see anything interesting about the crackly plastic and were still convinced there was something edible at the truck. I opened the bus door and waited for the Runner to push his way through the remainder of the crowd.

I opened the Pop-Tart™ wrapper slowly, purposefully making lots of crackly noises to spur him on. He picked up speed, especially now that he'd reached the fringes where there were fewer zombies. He was moving fast enough that he was catching the attention of zombies near him, making them think he might be hunting something.

I climbed the steps into the bus, and the Runner followed without hesitation. I threw the package so it skidded across the floor to the far end of the bus. When he went after it, I leaned over the partition to push the door closed.

The Runner was successfully secured in the bus with no other zombies. Now we were waiting on Daniel, and considering he was supposed to be the fastest zombie around, I was beginning to wonder if he remembered he was supposed to be catching featherdusters and not looking for lab equipment.

After just one bite, my new "friend" dropped the Pop-Tart™ in disgust. Perhaps he wasn't a fan of the strawberry flavor, or perhaps, time hadn't been kind to the fruit filling which had turned dark brown at some point over the years.

I opened the bag of BBQ chips and tossed it in the middle of the floor. The Runner approached the bag, not nearly as enthusiastic as before, but still curious. The BBQ flavoring must have met his approval since he started crunching the potato snacks.

I walked over to a window, wondering where Daniel was and if I had to start hunting pigeons and rats. I had my bow, so I could catch a flock if I was fast enough, but it was going to take quite a few to supply enough blood to bring this Runner back to sanity.

Through the dusty windshield, I could make out a figure sprinting down the street toward us. I opened the door and went outside, confirming it was Daniel jogging around the edge of the sinkhole. He was carrying a duffel bag big enough to stick our hitchhiker in, but considering the sides were already bulging, I doubted that was his intention.

When he got closer, I asked, "Is that really full of pigeons?"

"Only about half are pigeons. Some geese and ducks happened to wander too far from the river's edge." He hefted the bag. "I have to find more but I think it's a good start." He tilted his head with a smug grin. "So, am I as persistent as Nicky?"