All The Beautiful People (A Dread Novel Book 1) (5 page)

CHAPTER 9

So Vanidrum was not only driving people insane, it was spreading. A quick look at Jason confirmed Taylor’s thoughts. His intense look of concentration told her he was thinking the same thing. The two were running side-by-side following in the principal’s wake.

“The bathroom where we locked her in is down the hall and around the corner. This way,” he explained.

Taylor’s mind was already racing faster than her body to understand the scope of their situation. If Vanidrum was causing these reactions and the symptoms could be transmitted through blood, then a future that Taylor didn’t want to imagine was at their doorstep.

The trio covered the inside of the high school building in seconds. Shining white tiles were taken two, sometimes three at a time. Lockers that look new flanked them on either side. Bright white lights reminded them their surroundings were all too perfect to be any kind of nightmare.

“Here, she’s in…”

Taylor came skidding to halt behind the principal. She looked first to his shocked expression then to where his eyes were fixed. The door to the girl’s bathroom was wide open, a puddle of dark red liquid flowing from inside.

“We barricaded the door,” he mumbled as the realization of what was happening began to sink in. “I swear we locked her inside. Is that blood on the floor?”

Taylor was working to take in her surroundings and formulate a plan of action. A few chairs lay scattered around the open door, what she guessed was the principal’s idea of a secure barricade. There was no noise from the inside of the girl’s restroom. The lack of wails or whispers was even more unnerving than hearing someone scream.

At least in the event of James Jones and Amber they were making some kind of noise. Nothing besides a pool of blood came from the open door. Taylor took a deep breath and gave herself a short internal pep-talk.

You can handle this. There’s never been anything you couldn’t take care of. You’re the best at what you do. All those years of training weren’t for nothing. You got this.

“I told you we should have brought guns.”

Taylor realized for the second time that day that despite his fear Jason was right behind her. She was beginning to think she had him wrong the whole time. Waves of tension hit her by the second and this was her job as a Cleaner. She couldn’t imagine what Jason was feeling as an Operator whose duties included monitoring phone conversations and coordinating events over his cell.

“Stay right behind me, Jason. If things get ugly I want you to get out and lock the door. No matter if I’m in there or not. You were right, something big is happening.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the words of affirmation. We can talk about how right I’ve been after we both get out of this alive. I’m not leaving you in there.” He walked past her and through the open door.

Who the heck is this guy?

Senses working on overdrive she clenched both hands into fists and followed.

Jason hadn’t made it more than a few feet in the door when he stopped. Taylor sidestepped his rigid back to get a look at whatever it was stopping his forward progress.

The bathroom followed suit with the high school décor. The white tiled floor gave way to light green stall doors, white sink tops, and a gigantic mirror. The section of the mirror farthest from the door was broken. Shattered pieces were scattered all around the countertop and floor like sprinkles on a cupcake. Taylor and Jason weren’t the only two people in the room. A tall girl stood over the broken pieces of glass while a boy about the same age lay motionless on the floor.

The blood traveling into the hall was coming from a large wound on the boy’s scalp. His black hair lay matted against his scalp as if it had been overly gelled. His white collared shirt rose and fell as his chest gave way to shallow breathing. With the boy on the floor Taylor turned her attention to the girl. She was wearing the same uniform as Amber, an exact match, even down to the red splotches covering her face and clothing.

Rachelle was leaning in close to the broken mirror. In both hands she held a shard of the mirror’s glass. A jagged edge of the glass was buried deep in her face, just under her nose. In a large circular motion the girl tore away her lips.

“Rachelle,” Taylor edged forward, careful to step over the boy’s body. “Rachelle, I don’t know how much of you is in there but you need to stop. You need to stop hurting yourself. Put the glass down.”

Rachelle took in a huge breath of air, and something fell from the girl’s face to the sink below. Whatever it was landed with a plop.

“There! Oh, I’m so pretty now. That voice was right. Look at me, I’m so pretty.”

Rachelle wasn’t talking to Taylor, she was talking to the reflection in the mirror. Through the spider web of cracked glass Taylor looked at what had grabbed Rachelle’s attention.

What she saw brought the taste of stomach acid and the cherry Pop Tart she ate for breakfast to her mouth. The thing that fell from Rachelle’s face where her lips. Her skin from her nose to her chin had disappeared in a jagged circle. Bloody gums gave way to stained red teeth.

Rachelle turned to address Taylor for the first time. The way she started speaking was as if the two were longtime friends.

“I tried to make Amber perfect too but she wouldn’t let me.” Tears were pooling at the corner of Rachelle’s eyes. “They locked me in here and my boyfriend freed me. He didn’t want to be perfect either.”

Without lips the words coming from Rachelle were garbled and hard to understand. The one thing Taylor understood clearly was the utter madness in the girl’s eyes. It was the same wild-eyed expression James Jones had when he decided to attack.

Something inside Taylor told her the only way this situation was going to be resolved was with violence. She shifted her stance, left leg forward, right leg back. She would deal with Rachelle like she had with James Jones. She’d keep her distance, put the target down, and secure her with whatever she could find. The support team would be there any time now.

Even as Taylor’s plan formed she knew it wouldn’t work. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck when the boy on the ground behind her stirred. At the same time Rachelle twisted her face into what Taylor guessed was her new way of smiling.

“My boyfriend will help make you perfect. I cut his hair to be prefect too.”

“I’ve got him,” Jason said.

Taylor felt a hand on her shoulder pulling her down. As soon as the hand grabbed hold of her jacket it released. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason tackle the boy that was trying to drag her to the floor. All thought of helping Jason left when Rachelle lunged at her with the blade of glass.

Subduing the high school girl would have been easy in an open area not slick with human blood. Rachelle swung the blade in a wide arc. Although Taylor moved out of the way with plenty of time and space to avoid being slashed by the blade, the wet floor held other plans for her future. As if the knife and floor were colluding against her, her boot lost traction on the tile and began to slip toward the arcing weapon.

Taylor twisted her body in the opposite direction in time to see the glass flash in front of her eyes. For a brief second she saw her reflection in the passing piece of mirror, now turned weapon. It was a strange thought and no doubt this was neither the time nor place to think about her hair. Still her brain sent her a quick beauty tip.

If you survive this psychopathic adolescent you really should stop wearing your hair in a ponytail every day.

Then the second was over and Taylor was forced to react. She regained her balance and struck out with an elbow to the back of Rachelle’s neck. Rachelle didn’t have a chance, recovering from her wild swing. The blow connected with a tingling sensation that numbed Taylor’s arm. Rachelle’s knees gave way to noodle like strength and she collapsed.

“I don’t remember being this strong when I was a teenager.” Jason was sitting on the back of a wiggling form. Even though Jason outweighed his opponent by sixty pounds he was struggling to control the squirming mass of blood and flesh beneath him.

Heedless of the numbness spreading up and down her right elbow, Taylor raised her arms on either side of her body as she maneuvered through the Slip’N Slide of blood the bathroom had become. Reaching Jason and his captive she grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair. She raised his head above the floor. With as much force as she possessed she rammed his skull against the tile floor over and over.

On the third strike his body reverted to the limp posture they found him when entering the bathroom. Taylor looked Jason up and down. It appeared as if he was spared from any harm. Though his hands were covered in blood, other than that he was no worse off.

The principal stuck his head into the bathroom. He was beyond words.

“Hurry,” Taylor said, filling the shocked silence. “I’ll need both your belts. They won’t be down long.”

CHAPTER 10

“You’re all they sent?”

The field techs shrugged. “We were the only team available to assist when the call came through,” one of the lab coated technicians said as he finished administering the sedative to Rachelle.

Taylor motioned to the two girls and the young boy that now sat in a drugged stupor in the rear of the unmarked Lazarus van.

Jason was having a hard time accepting the fact that only one field support team was sent. “That’s impossible. At any given time we have an entire staff of security personnel, technicians, Cleaners, and employees on call.”

“Hey man,” the tech said, “I wish I could tell you something else but you know how it is. They only tell us what we need to know. I can’t give you information I don’t have.”

“We’ll follow you back to the office,” Taylor said. She turned to Jason, “We’ll look for answers there.”

The field tech closed the rear doors of the van and whistled low under his breath. “Looks like you guys have some explaining to do.”

Taylor followed his gaze to where the disheveled principal stalked across the lawn to the waiting vehicle. Though he was too far away to be heard when he started to talk, his body language was enough to tell Taylor he was scared. As he got closer, the words carried to her ears.

“What am I supposed to tell the family? Is the area in the bathroom and on the field supposed to be secured? Isn’t it a crime scene? What’s going on? Are we or the other students in any danger?”

Taylor had an answer ready for all his questions. Even as the white Lazarus van pulled away with the deranged students, Taylor was ready.

“I’m sorry,” she said calmly, “I know this must be difficult for you.”

The van pulled a U-turn and headed toward the freeway. It didn’t get far. From around a corner, an SUV hurtled toward the Lazarus vehicle and struck the van like a battering ram. The sound of wrenching metal was worse than the high-pitched noise of nails across a chalkboard.

Smoke erupted from both automobiles. The Lazarus vehicle now lay on its passenger side, and a small fire was starting under the smashed hood of the dark blue SUV. The three stood in shock, their eyes taking in the scene faster than their brains could process.

The accident had taken place only a block down the road. Jason and Taylor were the first to move. Both left the stunned principal and ran for the accident. Before they took their second step, the rear doors of the van exploded outward. All three Steel Hart High students dressed in their school uniforms ran from the rear of the van in a stupor. They headed for the front section of the Lazarus van.

Taylor stopped short and grabbed Jason’s forearm. Jason looked down at her grip and tried to pull away.

“We have to help them!” he screamed. “There’s only three of them, we can take them. Let me go!”

Jason wasn’t seeing the entire picture. “No, Jason, there are more than three.”

Jason looked at her confused and angry. Rather than heed her warning, he turned back to the scene of the accident.

Doors of the dark blue SUV were opening and a family, a male, female, and two children, fell out. Even from this distance it was clear all three were deathly pale and covered in blood. The psychotic family wasted no time in joining the three high school students. Together, the bloodstained group smashed in the windows of the white Lazarus van. Cries for help echoed through the air as the two Lazarus techs were ripped from their seats.

“We have to go,” Taylor said.

“What?” Jason looked at her as if she were a stranger pulling him to the car. “No, they need our help. We can’t leave them there.”

“Do you think I want to?” Taylor screamed. “Do you think I want to stand by and let people rip into each other? There is nothing we can do. They’re already dead. All we can do now is get back and find out what we’re dealing with and how to stop it.”

Jason refused to go but Taylor felt his forward momentum fade. He wasn’t trying to pull his arm free from her grip anymore. He couldn’t turn back and get in the car, not yet.

Taylor knew how he felt. Every fiber in her body told her to run to the aid of the men trapped in the Lazarus van. The only thing holding her back was responsibility to her employer, and as silly as it sounded to Jason, she wasn’t going to get him killed his first day out.

Taylor released Jason’s arm, and he stood looking on helplessly as the group of fiends tore away at the flesh and bones of their Lazarus co-workers.

Taylor knew their time was short. They had a small window of opportunity to get back in their vehicle, the attention of the maniacal gathering of psychopaths would be on them soon.

She had less time than she thought. The wailing silenced. The little girl from the SUV was the first to look their way. Her curled hair bobbed. Her pink ribbon shook on top of her perfectly woven braid as she locked eyes with Taylor and started to nod. The nodding turned into a shriek of glee. The little girl—blood and bits dripping down her lips like a messy lunch of spaghetti—ran for them.

“In the car,
now
,” Taylor told Jason.

Jason didn’t say a word but he moved. The girl was a block away, screaming like a child whose favorite TV show was about to be missed. Taylor turned toward her car and couldn’t believe her eyes. The school principal was on the front lawn were they had left him. He was in shock; Taylor witnessed it in his glazed eyes. The events of the day were too much for him to handle.

“Get inside!” Taylor screamed. “Lock yourself in the school. Call for help. Go, now!”

Either Taylor’s yelling or the young child dripping blood running down the street toward them was too much for the principal. The man turned and ran back to the school faster than Taylor thought he was capable of moving.

The faint pitter-patter of bare feet on pavement reminded Taylor of her own dilemma. Jason was already at the car. In one motion he yanked the passenger side door open and jumped inside. Taylor did the same, and not a moment too soon. The second the driver side door was shut behind her, the little girl hit her window with the force of a baseball bat, rocking the entire car.

She hammered on the window, over and over again. The little girl was growling, slapping her tiny hands on the car’s closed window. Taylor felt the girl’s frustration vibrating from the car door.

She jammed the keys into the ignition, slammed the transmission in drive, and struck the gas pedal with her right foot harder than she intended. With a roar and a squeak of spinning ties, the car lurched to life.

Taylor didn’t bother to see if her car’s back tires ran over the girl or not. One second their youthful attacker was banging on the car window with the wrath of a titan and the next she was gone.

Adrenaline was flowing to every inch of Taylor’s body. Her hands tingled and vibrated, begging for action. Her heartbeat was so loud she could hear it over the car’s engine.

With a quick flip of the steering wheel and a screech of rubber lost from the tires, Taylor pulled a sharp U-turn.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked. It was the first thing he had said since they ran for the car.

“The freeway is the fastest way back to the office. It’s this way.”

Taylor and Jason both looked out the car’s wide windshield to the approaching group. All seven of the infected were running for their car. The wails from the little girl must have warned her comrades of other fresh targets in the vicinity.

Taylor hunched over the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she gunned the engine.

“What are you going to do?” Jason asked. “These are still people. They’re
people
, Taylor. People like you and me. There could be a cure.”

The group was running down the street, closing the gap at a sprint. They would reach the car in seconds. Taylor considered Jason’s words. Somehow she knew they weren’t people anymore. The lack of humanity in their eyes, the blood sticky and fresh, running from their hands and mouths made Taylor to decide to hit the gas pedal again.

The car rocketed forward from a standstill. The speedometer read a steady 40 miles per hour as she struck the first body. Lucky number one was Rachelle, the girl with no lips. Rachelle made no move to dive out of the way or avoid the impact. Like a mindless drone, she ran right at them. Her body made a loud crack as her spine snapped in half and her body folded in on itself. The blow from the car’s bumper sent her flying over the hood and roof of the car.

Then the others followed. Bodies of many different sizes and shapes glanced off the car and went either over or under the vehicle. The scene in front of Taylor was so horrific her conscious begged for anything else to fixate on besides the events unfolding around her. Her mind immediately related the scene to bowling. Her car was nothing but a big bowling ball knocking down pins of people. If she were to give herself a score as the last person ricocheted off her windshield, it would be a strike.