Chapter 11 Welcome to Hell
“Help! Help me!” Mariah waved wildly at Iris, her voice cracking with sheer desperation.
“Save me! I’ll give you our store’s gold card!
“No! I’ll give you clothes! Ten pieces! A hundred pieces! Anything you want! Help me! Ah!” she shrieked, tears streaming down her face.
Her scream turned into a gurgle as fear choked her.
Baseball bat gripped in one hand, Iris had only one response to such pleas–and a silent thank–you.
The louder Mariah screamed, the faster she strode away.
“Thank you for being useful one last time before you die,” Iris murmured.
Engine roaring, Iris slammed her foot to the gas, tearing out of the parking garage at full throttle.
It was just past eight o’clock, the hour when the city usually stirred to life.
But the zombie virus that had erupted at dawn had plunged
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The first casualties were early–morning breakfast cart vendors, sanitation workers, public transit staff, and 24–hour businesses.
In these open, crowded spaces, a single infection was enough to ignite pandemonium.
That morning, 911 lines were overwhelmed, and those who tried to call later couldn’t get through. The city’s emergency services were paralyzed.
Next came the office workers–those at the mall Iris had just raided included.
Rush hour should have filled the streets, but fortune favored those relying on public transit; most were stuck on roads with no available buses or trains.
Misfortune, though, awaited those who’d managed to board a vehicle–it was a hellish start to their day.
Numerous buses reported elderly passengers collapsing.
Once those passengers rose again, there was nowhere for anyone on board to run–trapped with the infected in a metal box.
A lucky few made it to work, Mariah among them. They’d driven their own cars or ridden electric scooters, arriving safely only to find the doors locked.
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Huddling in confusion, they soon spotted blood–soaked figures stumbling toward them, moaning gutturally.
This was the early apocalypse.
To anyone seeing these scenes, they looked like gang fights or violent attacks.
Well–meaning souls rushed to help, only to be instantly bitten and turned–their kindness a death sentence.
The same horror played out across the city, block by block falling to the infection.
Iris knew this was only the beginning. Tens of thousands remained trapped in their homes, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding outside. Now was the best time to escape, before mass panic set in.
Soon, a tidal wave of people would flood the roads, paralyzing all traffic completely.
“Please help!” A young woman suddenly darted in front of Iris‘ car, arms outstretched like a barrier.
By the roadside, her boyfriend knelt, trying to help an elderly woman who’d collapsed.
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“Stop the car! Someone’s fainted here! Please take her to the hospital!” the woman shouted, planting her feet firmly in the middle of the road.
Iris‘ car was the only one in sight–somehow, the streets were eerily empty, and 911 lines were still dead.
She had to stop this car.
Coldness settled in Iris‘ eyes as she stared at the woman.
Without hesitation, her right foot pressed the gas pedal to the
floor.
Terror jolted the woman, and she leaped back just in time—Iris‘ car raced past, inches from hitting her.
She stumbled, heart pounding in her chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you! You won’t help, and you almost killed me! Crazy bitch! Cold–hearted! Selfish! No empathy at all!” she screamed, trembling with rage and fear.
“Honey, are you okay?” her boyfriend called, abandoning the elderly woman to rush over.
“I’ve never seen someone like that! She didn’t slow down–didn’t even hesitate! She almost killed me!” the woman ranted, still shaking.
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“You shouldn’t stand in the middle of the road like that! There are too many selfish people in this world–hardly anyone’s as kind as us. Take a photo of her later, post it online! Expose her- ah!”
A blood–curdling scream cut off his words.
The elderly woman he’d supported had risen, cloudy eyes locking onto the nearest warm body before she sank her teeth deep into the man’s neck.
Bright red blood sprayed across the pavement, painting the concrete in a gruesome arc.
“Honey!” The woman stumbled back, then grabbed her purse and swung it hard at the old woman. “Let go of him! Let go of my husband!”
She kicked and bashed the creature repeatedly, her blows useless against its undead flesh.
When it finally released its grip, she dragged her husband away, his neck gushing blood.
“Honey, we need to get to the hospital—are you okay?” she cried, supporting him with one arm while fending off the zombie, which had already climbed back to its feet.
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No matter how hard she hit it, it didn’t flinch.
Even more terrifying was the way its limbs bent at impossible angles, bones popping as it moved.
Its ashen face was drained of all color, its cloudy eyes fixed hungrily on them, and its toothless mouth gaped open, stained scarlet with blood.
It looked exactly like the zombies in horror movies.
Fear finally clamped down on her throat.
Could this really be a zombie?
Just then, something heavy tackled her to the ground.
It was her husband–now a zombie, his eyes cloudy, his mouth sinking into her neck.
“Ah! Honey! It’s me!”
The old woman zombie joined in, tearing open her abdomen with her bare hands.
As her intestines spilled out onto the pavement, the last thing she saw was the taillights of Iris‘ car disappearing into the distance.
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Iris had glanced in her rearview mirror just once, the gruesome scene registering briefly before she focused ahead again.
Kindness? Empathy? Those were virtues for heaven.
Here, in this hell, they had no place.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
