Q Island by Russell James

Author:Russell James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror;quarantine;epidemic;medical
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Melanie awoke to a room that glowed orange.

She’d slept on the floor of the princess bedroom, Aiden on the bed, both fully dressed, not from a lack of PJs as much as from fear of a midnight catastrophe. That fear that now came to fruition. The air smelled of smoke. The unmistakable flicker of flames lit the window from outside.

She jumped to her feet and parted the curtains. Two houses on the block burned like giant tiki torches, belching smoke and flame into the night sky. Triumphant whoops and hollers echoed outside. Shadows skittered back and forth, backlit by the blazes. The streetlights were dark. The clock in the room as well. No electricity.

A car pulled up in front. A man hung out of the passenger window with a Molotov cocktail in his hand. He lit the rag at the bottle’s end. Flame rippled up the hanging cloth fuse. The firelight illuminated the gray web across the attacker’s face. His blood-red eyes sparkled. He wound up like a major leaguer and hurled the burning bottle straight at Melanie’s window.

The flickering rag cut a flaming arc through the darkness. Melanie ducked. The bottle missed the window and shattered against the exterior’s dry cedar shingles. Flames erupted along the facade. The pitcher whooped in victory as the car squealed away down the street.

Instantly, the window glass went hot. Aiden snapped awake, took one look at the window full of flames, screamed and ran for the hallway. Melanie scooped his shoes off the floor and followed.

Aiden cut right for the living room, but she cut left for the master bedroom. She banged on the door.

“Eddie! Wake up! The house is on fire!”

Eddie yanked open the door as he put on his glasses. His hair was a mess, but he was fully dressed. Apparently Eddie hadn’t felt that secure either. “Where?”

“Firebombed out front by some of the infected,” she said.

Eddie checked the fire from his bedroom window. Flames already blazed up to the roof and across the asphalt shingles. “Damn. We ain’t putting that out. Time to abandon ship. Where’s Aiden?”

“Already up and moving.”

“Out the kitchen door, go!”

They ran down the hall. The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut punctuated the crackle of flames outside. Melanie entered the kitchen and caught sight of her son leaping from the back porch into the darkness.

Eddie paused and stepped into the living room. He gave his head a sad shake. He pulled his wedding picture off the wall, popped the photo from the frame and shoved it in his shirt. Melanie went out the kitchen door. Eddie followed her into the night. She stopped at the edge of the long-harvested tomato garden.

“Aiden!” she called. “Come here now!” Under her breath she added, “There’s no time for this.”

The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke. The indirect light from the blazes gave the yard a hellish, otherworldly glow.

Eddie came up beside her. “Where’s your boy?”

“Here, somewhere. You’d better get your car out of the garage before the fire reaches it.

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