Zombie Road VI: Highway to Heartache

by David A. Simpson

  He pulled the last of the blinded gropers away from the bars, kicked in their heads and tossed them aside. At the other end of the pool, the mob had turned away from the newly infected and started shambling back towards the cage. Twitching, well dressed bodies lay in pools of blood and would be rising soon. Jessie faced Scarlet, his worried eyes danced over her body looking for wounds or fresh bites. There was flowing blood that would need to be staunched but she wasn’t badly hurt. Wasn’t bit. Just a trickling from the spear jabbed at her shoulder. Nefertiti wound around her legs and rubbed against them, purring loudly.

  “Ah, my Romeo.” Scarlet smiled at him, her hands shackled at her sides. “I would forget all my sorrow to see you standing there. Oh, how I love thy company.”

  “Huh?” Jessie said and cocked his head, wondering if she’d taken a hard blow to her own.

  Her smile broadened and tears threatened to overflow her eyes. Jessie had come back. He had risked everything for her like she knew he would and now he stood before her, the girl in chains. The woman bound and caged. Her rescuer. Her knight in shining armor. Her Prince Charming. He was strong and rugged and covered in blood, all of it from his enemies. He had vanquished them. A thousand fell from his right hand and a thousand from his left. He came for her and her heart swelled, she was being rescued like a princess in a fairy tale.

  “Yet, you must take your leave, lest I kill thee with my cherishing.” she said in her best Juliet imitation. “Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, the look of concern became one of puzzlement.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You have no romantic bone in your body.” she said, shaking her head. “Zombies behind are going to eat you.”

  Jessie heard them and spun, steel meeting flesh, then hurried to dispatch the ones that had just turned. The fast ones sprang to their feet only to fall right back down, new holes in their heads leaking yellowish fluids as they joined the piles of unmoving bodies.

  “Be back in a sec.” he said and jumped out of the pool.

  He unclipped the dead man from the chain and pulled it, lifting the cage up and away from her as Cody returned from his chase. He had a frog-stepping, purple suited man with him and a big hand was wrapped into the greasy rows of dreadlocks. Without the sounds of the undead moaning or the pissheads cheering, the room echoed with his whines and cries, the quiet sound of clinking chains from Scarlet and the heavy boots from the fireman.

  “Keys.” Jessie said as he walked over.

  Shaking hands brought them out, nearly dropping them but Jessie caught them and hopped back down into the deep end. He unlatched her, pulled the chain away from her waist and let it fall. Cody and the man watched as they embraced, kissed long and hard then jumped from the bottom of the deepest part of the pool all the way up to the edge in an easy bound. An impossible leap, but they did it.

  “Who are you?” the man asked, some of his fear falling away with his amazement. “What are you?”

  Jessie said nothing, but gently touched the blood seeping out of the spear wound in her shoulder. His eyes turned hard and his fist flashed out, sinking six inches of steel into the man’s own shoulder.

  He cried out and tried to fall but Cody held him in place.

  Jessie took her hands in his, softly turned them over, took in the angry red welts on her wrists from too- tight handcuffs. He gently dropped them and snatched up the man’s wrists, twisting them like he was wringing a chicken’s neck. Bones broke and the man screamed in agony, again tried to fall to his knees but was held in place. Cody grimaced, not comfortable with torture, but held the him steady.

  Jessie turned back to her, his Scarlet, his everything and looked for more hurts. More injuries. More pain they had caused. Her neck was purple and black from the garrote and his face clouded when he turned to the man. His hand shot out, gripped the boney neck and squeezed. His fingers dug in and the mans eyes bulged, his face reddened then turned blue. He pulled at Jessies arm but he might as well have been pulling at an iron girder. Jessies eyes bore into his as he choked the life out of him, as he destroyed the thing that dared to hurt her. He could feel the tender cartilage of the man’s neck starting to break as his tongue stuck out. His vision would dim and go black, he would die knowing why. He would die knowing he had crossed a point of no return the moment he laid hands on the woman Jessie loved. He would die with the Road Angels hard eyes boring into his and he would know why.

  He felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and his name whispered.

  “Jessie.” she said and he loosened his grip.

  Cody did too and the man fell to the floor, broken hands trying to massage life back into his throat. They heard the whistle of air as he sucked in a lungful and Cody kicked him over into the pool. He fell with a grunt on a cushion of corpses and lay there in agony, sipping in air and barely believing he was still alive.

  “They might regroup and come back with weapons.” Cody said, eyeing the door nervously. “We need to go.”

  “Good.” Jessie said. “I won’t have to hunt them down.”

  He was still angry, still pissed off that they had hurt her. Had dared lay a hand on her.

  “I told you. You guys might be spear proof but I’m not.” Cody said

  “We can’t leave yet.” Jessie said. “We still haven’t found what we came here for.”

  Cody looked confused for a second then cocked his head at them.

  “Why are you here?” he said. “I never thought to ask, but there must be a reason. Lots of easier places to hit for supplies.”

  “Fabergé egg in the penthouse.” Jessie said. “I need it.”

  “A blue one with fancy gold work?” Cody asked “We have it. Jacob traded a bucket of water for it months ago, before we started fighting.”

  Scarlet started laughing and after a moment, Jessie joined in. This new world was ridiculous.

  The egg sat on its stand on the kitchen table. It was dark blue, encrusted with diamonds set in red gold and other than being a little dusty it was nearly perfect.

  “It’s beautiful.” Scarlet said. “These are worth tens of millions of dollars, only fifty were ever made for the Russian tsars. They gave them to their wives as Easter egg presents.”

  “I paid a bucket of water for it.” Jacob said. “And I’ll give it to you if you can get us out of here.”

  Jessie grinned at her as she picked it up and started packing it back in the case. Easiest ten million he’d ever make. He’d skip the part about it being traded for a few gallons of water when they got to the Tower. No use letting that cheapen his asking price of fixing whatever was wrong with Scarlet. The doctors needed to figure out the right mix of antibiotics or mega vitamins or what ever it took kill the infection slowly spreading through her.

  “We’ll have you out of here in an hour.” Jessie said “Pack light, there is no shortage of anything except good people in the fortified towns.”

  The rest of the enclave were gathered in the apartment, all forty-eight of them, and excited whispers ran through the tightly packed group. Jessie had marked all the known cities on pages torn out of a travel book and the best routes to get to them. The people could stay together for safety or convoy to different places, it was entirely up to them. The roads were dangerous but if they didn’t stop except to refuel, ran hard and fast, they should be able to make it to the safety of a walled enclave.

  “Cascade needs people.” Jessie said, pointing it out on the map. “It’s a logging and fishing town. They have electricity and a pretty good setup. You could have your choice of houses and there are some nice ones. I helped clear it, they could really use a group like you to help out.”

  The room was filled with murmurings, excitement at the prospect of finally escaping the slow death they were suffering.

  “Good weather.” Jessie continued. “It’s on a big lake, they don’t get much snow, enough rain so you don’t have to worry about a forest fire burning you out and I
’m going that way. I’ll escort you there, make sure everyone makes it.”

  That clinched the deal. Their fears of the unknown, the worry about breakdowns and wandering hordes or marauders gunning them down all fell away. The Road Angel would be their guide, would make sure they made it to safety.

  “We’ll need weapons.” Cody said. “I know a couple of gun stores we can hit up.”

  “Good idea.” Jessie said. “Everyone know how to shoot?”

  The men all nodded, some raised their hands. Being it was Idaho, the women did too.

  “We’ll be back with a bus or RV in about an hour.” Jessie said as he geared up.

  Scarlet had been bandaged and precious water spared to clean her jacket and wounds. She would be able to walk out slowly and get the Mercury then lead the mob away. There were hundreds surrounding the building with more stumbling in but they were still a small enough horde that it wouldn’t take long for them to all be gone again, following the car. The truck Cody had been trying to start had almost fired, they were pretty sure another hard push start would get it going. There was an RV place on the outskirts of town, they’d jump start a few of the diesel pushers, make sure they had fuel and be on their way. It was only five hundred miles, they wouldn’t have to stop once they got rolling.

  7

  Gunny

  Gunny awoke with eyes wide, fully alert and listening. It was early, sunrise was still a half hour away and the gray dawn light left everything shadowy and indistinct. It took him a second to realize the warm body shifting beside him was what pulled him out of sleep. They were in the back of the modified Chevelle, the seat removed and a sleeping area built in. The ’65 had plenty of room inside, even with the bars on the windows and guns in their racks. It was the safest place to sleep when out in the wastelands. The tribe called her Cherry Pie but she’d told him that her real name was Dee Dee. There was a pair of smiling cherries on stems tattooed on her shoulder, probably done when she was a teenager from the faded look of them. She was curvy in all the right places and her hair had been purple at one time but the natural dark red was growing out. She wasn’t a member, didn’t wear the finger bone necklaces or have tattoos on her face but had a reputation as a fighter. They were working on breaking her. It usually didn’t take months to have their captives fully trained but this one was a little tougher than the rest. They usually kept her in the cages at night and the bruises she wore was evidence of her spirit.

  The tribe had drunk heavily until the wee hours of the morning welcoming the two newest members. Johnny Killjoy had chosen her because he said he liked a challenge. He liked it rough and she might come back with chunks of her missing if she got sassy with him. He snapped his sharpened Halloween store fangs at her and they laughed. She had started undressing dutifully when he shoved her into the backseat area, freeing her ample chest from the tight-fitting shirt. Once he closed the door, he told her to stop. They talked for a long time before drifting off to sleep and Gunny started formulating a plan. An actual plan, not just a seat of his pants goal with no idea how to actually achieve it.

  Griz had done the same. Found the feistiest prisoner and claimed her for his own. They chose the ones who hadn’t been broken, the ones who hadn’t accepted their new life and were trying to fit in. They chose the fighters.

  She awoke when the sun peeked over the horizon and clutched the surrounding blankets in fear, waiting for another attack or assault. Gunny watched her relax when she realized where she was and turned to face him, her dark eyes questioning. Was it true? He really wasn’t an animal like the rest of the gang? Her face was bruised but they were fading. The Human Hunters liked to dominate and control but she scared some of them. She was unpredictable. She might bite off your junk if you weren’t careful so after the first few days of her capture, they’d mostly left her alone. She was too pretty to just kill and they could trade her off to some other unsuspecting tribe. Casey had promised a slave auction once they took the clifftop town, they’d be able to sell her there and maybe pick up a few that weren’t so much trouble. They made her do domestic work, the washing and cooking, and she did a pretty good job if they didn’t try to force themselves on her. There were easier ways to get laid, easier women who didn’t fight quite so hard. Some had been with them for months and they’d given up. They did whatever they were told and a few had even become members, wearing the red paint stripes on their faces that identified them as one of the tribe.

  “Just go about your business, do the work they tell you to do.” Gunny told her. “I’ll claim you as my own, that’ll keep the others off you and you won’t be expected to clean up after them. Find out how many more are willing to fight and remember, if you get caught, there’s nothing I can do except die with you. We’re outnumbered, outgunned and completely surrounded with hardcore Casey followers. We have no chance of winning yet. You need to recruit where you can and only the ones you trust with your life.”

  She nodded. She knew how it worked, what happened to spies. Snitches got stitches.

  “It’s showtime. You ready?” he asked and she nodded again, gave him a small smile and undressed.

  She gathered her clothes in her hands then stumbled out of the door with a small squeal of pain as he slapped her bare bottom.

  “And find me some coffee!” Gunny yelled after her to the laughter of the men still gathered around the fire.

  Gunny joined them a few minutes later, pretending like he was nursing a hangover.

  “Looks like you got her trained up good.” One of the men said when she came hurrying up with a steaming cup of java.

  “What’s your secret? Honestly man, I was afraid to close my eyes when I was around her, afraid she’d slice my throat. She seems a little psycho.”

  “Aren’t all women?” someone said to more laughter.

  “Sometimes the threat is more effective than actual violence.” Gunny said. “Learned that when I was riding with the Club. A few bikes show up at someone’s house that is supposed to testify and all of a sudden, they forget what they were going to say. We didn’t have to tell them anything, just seeing us scared them quiet.”

  There were nods all around. It made sense and talk turned to the cliff top reservation and how to get up there. Griz joined them and slowly others came over with varying states of hangovers. The fire kept the desert chill away and obedient slaves brought coffee and started cooking breakfast. He was learning what they called themselves. The leader was Python. The rest had similar tough guy names.

  Switchblade Jay.

  Slick.

  Billy Kill.

  Stevie Slaughter.

  He didn’t know if Casey was an evil mad genius or just some clown that got lucky by applying a few ideas from TV shows and movies. Everyone had lost everything and Casey was there to show them the way. Give them new names so they wouldn’t have reminders of who they once were. They had all probably been decent people on some level even if they were only faking civility to stay out of jail. He encouraged debauchery and bloodshed. Rewarded them for it and the thin veneer of civilization peeled away quickly. The insane craziness of the first six months seemed to have leveled out and they were actually creating a society. A violent and ruthless one on par with war tribes of the past but a society, nonetheless. Gunny had a pretty good working knowledge of the Army’s history. He knew the 7th infantry had worked with cannibal Indian tribes back in the 1800s, had used them as trackers to hunt other tribes. The Tonkawa’s were legendary for eating the Comanche but they didn’t discriminate. They’d throw anyone into a stew pot. Cannibalism had always been taboo in civilized societies but it occasionally became an accepted way in some cultures. It hadn’t been openly practiced for over a century before the fall but here it was again: revived and in full swing although the raiders only did it ritually now, not as an everyday entrée.

  “Tastes like chicken.” Stevie Slaughter said when talk turned to the feast Casey had planned once all the tribes arrived.

  “More like bear mea
t.” Billy Kill said. “Used to poach them all the time. Tastes better with barbeque sauce if you ask me. I hope they have some ‘cause I used up my last bottle.”

  “I like it raw and still bleeding.” Slick said. “I just take a bite out of a living one whenever I get a little hungry.”

  Gunny sipped at his coffee and kept his face plain, controlling his normal reaction to wrinkle his nose or roll his eyes at the conversation. Slick was one of the hardcore bikers that still rode a motorcycle and liked to let everyone know he was tougher than them. Everything they’d done, he’d done it too but twice as good. He was one of those guys that talked big and liked to have everyone paying attention to him. He tried to push Gunny’s buttons, tried to get a rise out of him but went on to insult someone else when the new guy just stared at him calmly over his coffee cup. Maybe he shouldn’t mess with him, he decided when the icy eyes didn’t flinch. He looked like he knew how to handle himself.