RF0 Chapter 7

Rebecca isn’t sure what to do. Even if she had her gun, there’s just too much. Forget about Billie Jacques; what is going on with these women? Even unconscious, both women still sport huge, throbbing erections that ooze something clear and gooey.

Billie watches her obvious confusion and snorts. Then she kicks the pistol across the carpet toward her. “You should get out of here,” she says,

Rebecca’s heart pounds, but she’s still a medic. “You don’t look so good.”

Billie’s more than a little pale. There’s sweat on her forehead, and a bulge in her jeans.

Rebecca’s nose tingles. The smell is so much stronger near these women, and it was intoxicating when they were all over her. When that huge, gray cock was coming toward her, Rebecca didn’t hate the idea.

She shakes her head. “I have to take you in.”

Billie turns her back. “Forget it. You have bigger problems.”

Rebecca clenches a fist and watches Billie leave the car. Fuming, she bends to pick up her gun, stiffening at a jolt of sensation from her chest so intense that it’s almost painful. Her body is wide awake, and her nipples are dangerously sensitive.

“Jeez,” she says through clenched teeth. Just putting the gun back in its holster seems to take a lot of effort. She zip-ties the fallen zombies before climbing past them to make her way down the aisle. She halts at the door, collects herself, and draws the gun. Billie saved her, but Rebecca is still a cop.

She enters a narrow corridor with windows on her left. The lights are on, but their golden light is somehow claustrophobic and inadequate. The smell is present, but it’s not as strong. There are spots on the carpet, and the train itself is a mess. A closet has burst open, and boxes from within have spilled into the corridor.

“Hello? I’m with RPD. I’m here to help,” Rebecca says as she makes her way forward.

Something smacks the window beside her, and she jumps with a shriek, pulling her gun. The glare from the windows and the rain make it difficult to see.

A palm slaps the glass and Rebecca squints. “Oh my god! Edna?”

Rebecca jams her pistol into her holster and fumbles with the window, flicking both locks and ramming it upward. It’s not much, but it’s enough for a woman. She grabs Edna’s hand and helps her clamber up and through. Edna immediately falls to her knees, gasping. She’s badly disheveled; her uniform is torn, and Rebecca sees scrapes and blood. Her sidearm is missing. Rebecca turns back to the window, and the noise of the rain is louder with it open. She pulls her gun and peers into the dark.

“They’re out there,” Edna pants.

Rebecca raises the gun. “Who?”

Edna shakes her head and sits against the wall, wheezing. She’s going to hyperventilate. Rebecca holsters the gun and shuts the window, dropping to one knee and pulling her medical kit from the small of her back. “What happened?”

“They came out of nowhere.” Edna has a glazed look in her eyes, but they flash hungrily for a minute. “I feel strange. They grabbed me. Those women were telling the truth. She came on my face.” She sounds more disbelieving than upset.

That sounds like the two zombies in the other car. “I’ve seen them too,” Rebecca says, splashing disinfectant. She presses a pad to the worst scrape to stop the bleeding, but blood loss might not be the problem. Edna’s breathing is only speeding up, and she’s losing color. Rebecca checks her pulse and loses track within seconds.

“Don’t go out there,” Edna warns, clutching at Rebecca. There’s something terribly wrong with the look in her eyes, and she’s not calming down. She’s only becoming more agitated.

Rebecca hurriedly prepares a sedative. “You’re going to be OK, Edna. I just don’t want you stroking out, OK? Relax. I’ve got you.” She pulls Edna’s hand away from her thigh and injects her.

Edna shudders, eyelids fluttering. Her breathing slows, and her eyes close. Rebecca worriedly checks her pulse. It’s strong and steady. Edna needs a hospital.

Rebecca zips up her kit and gets to her feet, keying her radio. “Bravo Team, this is Rebecca. We need medevac and backup. This area may need to be quarantine—”

She’s cut off by a burst of static.

“Rebecca?” It’s Carla’s voice.

“Carla? Do you read?”

“Rebecca, find shelter immediately and be on the lookout for Jacques. She isn’t just a murderer. She’s ex-military. A combat specialist. You’re no match for her. Do not engage. Just call it in if you locate her. Alpha Team will be here soon. Stay—”

There’s another burst of static.

“Marini? Carla!” Rebecca grips the radio and grinds her teeth. “Damn it.” She puts it back on her belt and looks down at the motionless Edna Dewey. The zombies in the other car are neutralized, but Billie’s still on the loose, and other people might need help. Rebecca has to keep going, and it doesn’t sound like anyone’s coming to help.