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

against the windshield nearest Marty’s door.
    I hesitated; the
gun was my lifeline; it increased my… our… chances of survival. I turned my
body and lunged for the gun… just as the bestial boy burst through the station
door.
    He took the
stairs two at a time, his face contorted in animalistic hunger. “Shit. Shit.
Shit!” My voice was cracking, going hoarse from fear. Screw the gun! In
a pulse-pounding, gut-wrenching matter of seconds, my fingers were on the
driver’s door handle. It was still freaking locked. I yelled in frustration and
slammed my left palm against the door glass, keeping my right hand in the ready
position. Marty yelped and I heard the upwards click of the metal lock. I
wrenched the vehicle door open; the boy was rounding the front of the T-bird
now… so close… so damn close.
    I didn’t bother
removing the heavy backpack. I just shoved my body into the car, slamming the
door behind me and hitting the locking button like my life depended on it. Because…
my freaking life did depend on it. There was no doubt about that. If I’d
been a fraction slower, I’d be dead- a chunk of flesh ripped from my bones by
sharp teeth. Then I’d be changed… be like Deb, slamming my head into glass,
trying to gain a meal in the form of Marty.
    I took a deep
breath, trying uselessly to slow my out-of-control heart rate. The .38 shoved
in my skirt waistline jabbed into my stomach. I pushed my back against the car
seat and roughly yanked the handgun away from my soft skin. Again, I was
acutely aware of how out of shape I was. The run had almost killed me. I forced
my body to stop shaking long enough to turn the key in the ignition… the engine
didn’t greet me with its comforting roar. Shit. Shit. Shit! Not here. Not
now. No freaking way . My mind protested the possibility that the T-bird
could be out of commission. Kyle kept it in tip-top shape. It was a mistake.
I’d just drifted into an alternate reality for a moment, a reality where I was
stranded in a gigantic classic car paperweight. It was nearly impossible to
ignore the screaming psycho kid scratching at my window. The sound grated
against my brain and my stomach churned as I took in the sight fully. The kid’s
nails were splintered and his fingers were sloughing off in meaty chunks as he
desperately tried to remove the barrier blocking him from my flesh. Taking a
deep breath, blocking out the noise and death knocking at my chamber door, I
turned the key once more.
    The big block
ford roared to life. I wanted to drive, burn out and screech across the
concrete. But my gaze fell upon the shortened-barrel shotgun. Argh!!! My
brain screamed! How could I have been such a… a… woman! My life depended on
being able to protect myself and I’d dropped the gun. There it was, sitting on
the hood, taunting me.  Damn. I’m not a soldier, but I’m not a girly-girly
‘only good for a roll in the hay’ chick either. I shouldn’t have been such a
freaking clutz. Jesus.
    I went to throw
the T-bird into reverse, but my brain wouldn’t allow me to. I had to get the
gun back. It was my lifeline, my symbolic safety. It was the only weapon I felt
comfortable using. The .38 felt foreign in my hands, unfamiliar. The smooth
wood and dark metal of the shotgun felt like family, like my dad was watching
over me somehow. I needed that damn gun . It almost felt as if without
the weapon that I was doomed to die, hopeless, no chance at all against the
current landscape of cannibal hell on earth.
    “Marty, listen
to me.” The boy was helpless with fear watching the creature outside my window.
“Marty, look at me!” I knew my voice was loud and scary, but I needed him to
wake the hell up and tough love was all I had left in my emotional arsenal.
    Marty snapped
out of it, shaking his head vigorously like a narc coming out of a drug haze. I
guess I was scarier than what was outside.
    “Do what I say;
kneel down on the floor boards, close your eyes and cover your ears.”