Subject Number 67

Chapter 4

When the black of night cloaked the city, I slithered from the dark corner of the shop I had temporarily called home to the entrance of the dome, waiting for the next caravan of trucks to depart. The west coast trucks left every evening and the east coast trucks arrived every morning. They carried weapons, intel, food, supplies...basically everything we thought the east coast would need in order to continue thriving, and vice versa. 

I crouched amongst some cargo, careful to mind my arm where it was still bleeding from where I cut my tracer out. It had hurt like a bitch trying to find it buried in my skin, and I prayed that I hadn't caused any nerve damage; I'd need the use of both of my arms. I had managed to grab a couple of scary-looking tools from the hardware store so I had some sort of weaponry to defend myself with against other people...or zombies. I shuddered at the thought of the latter. I hoped I wouldn't run into any of those in the near future. My plan was to ride onboard one of the caravan trucks as a stowaway until we were far enough away from the dome to the point where I felt safe. Well...as safe as I could be. The only problem? I was injured, and I would be entering zombie country. I figured I would fare pretty well, though, considering the sole purpose of my creation was to destroy those sons of bitches. Still, the thought of smelling like fresh blood when there might very well be a hoard of angry, hungry zombies nearby terrified me.

When the caravan crew began loading the first of the trucks, I slipped soundlessly into the last one, hiding between barrels of what smelled like dog food. Curious, I popped the lid off one and was surprised to find what appeared to be beef jerky. Hallelujah. I hadn't eaten anything all day, and my escape had drained all of my energy (along with the blood loss from my injury, but I wasn't going to think about that. I couldn't let anything hinder me while I was this close to freedom). I'd need to eat now and take some food for later until I found a suitable place to camp out. Ideally, it'd be a deserted town where there were empty houses and hopefully a couple of supermarkets. That settled the case of finding shelter and food. The only thing I would have to worry about would be unwelcome, undead visitors. But again, baby steps.

After what felt like hours of crouching and hiding and waiting, the truck finally started to move. Thank god! I was so close! The ride was short-lived, however, and when the truck slammed on its brakes, I couldn't help but wonder why. Then I heard the voices.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" I heard the truck driver rasp.

Shit. Officers? They really were looking for me everywhere. If they found me, I'd probably be decommissioned back at the Factory.

"Do you have the inventory list for the cargo you're carrying?" I heard another voice ask, this one more authoritative. This had to be one of the elite officers charged with keeping security inside the Dome.

"Sure do. s'right here. There a problem?"

"We have been monitoring every truck preparing to leave to ensure that you are not carrying any resources that are unaccounted for. Mind if we take a look inside?"

Inside? Shit. No! I glanced around anxiously, searching for a place to hide. I saw a rectangular crate and scrambled over to it, muffling a hiss of pain as a sharp tingle shot through my arm. I lifted the lid of the crate, relieved to find that the only things inside were bedsheets. I heaved myself inside, covering my body with the sheets and lowering the lid of the crate just as the door to the truck opened.

I sat in the darkness, covered by the sheets and trying to control my breathing so it was as quiet as possible. I could hear the sound of someone shuffling around, and through the slim space between the lid of the crate and the wall, I could see the beam of a flashlight illuminating the back of the cargo truck. I could distinctly make out two people (whom I could only assume were guards) looking through the various crates and barrels, and I could only pray that they didn't look into mine.

"Find anything?" one asked.

"Nope. I think we're all clear."

Before I could determine if I'd heard them directly, the door to the truck slammed shut, and I heard them speaking to the driver. "Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. You have a good night."

"Same to you, Officer."

I didn't move. I barely breathed. I sat, waiting for something, anything, wondering if it was a joke and there was a swarm of guards inside the truck waiting to ambush me.

Then the truck started moving.

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A/N:

Well hello my little zombies! 

Sorry it has been SUCH a long time since I have updated this story, but I've been thinking about it a lot, and doing some plot development, and I'm excited to get it started again! So yeah. Updates will be much faster now!

Hope you liked this chapter! What do you think will happen next????