Dead America The Second Week (Book 8): Dead America: El Paso Part 3

by Slaton, Derek

  Reed whooped and threw his arms up in celebration. “Holy shit, that was bad fucking ass Detective!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea you were gonna go all Dukes of Hazzard and fly through the goddamn air!”

  “Well to be honest, neither did I,” Rogers admitted. “Guess this town wasn’t very high up on the list for road improvements.”

  Trenton clapped him on the shoulder. “Regardless of whether it was intentional or not, it was pretty effective. That could be a useful strategy for when we take on the hospital group.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be the case,” the Detective replied, shaking his head. He headed back to the SUV and reached beneath the dash, popping the hood.

  The duo followed him as he released the latch and opened it, recoiling in disgust at the display.

  “See what I mean?” Rogers asked as he motioned to the zombie bits clogging up the motor. “Landing on them probably wasn’t the best strategy. I got lucky there were only a handful. If this happened at the hospital, I’d be a box lunch.”

  Trenton sighed. “You’re just dashing all my dreams today.”

  “Well, the day’s not over yet, so there’s still time to dash a few more,” Rogers replied.

  Trenton chuckled, shaking his head.

  “Come on, let’s get that gas so we can get our barbecue set up,” the Detective urged, using his machete to wave at them with a dramatic flair.

  Reed saluted him. “Aye aye, Detective.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There were few cars scattered along the embankments of Highway 90, but Clara knew better than to stop to find out if there were threats inside of them. She let off the throttle a bit as she spotted the Marfa - 2 Miles sign, slowing to a stop in the middle of the road.

  She took a deep breath, and unlatched the holster for her handgun just in case she had to make a quick draw.

  “Okay, two miles, I can do this,” she said under her breath, and double checked her gas tank. It was just past half empty, so enough if she had to make a quick escape. She eased the accelerator, heading forward at a slow and careful pace.

  Clara’s heart thrummed hard in her chest. She expected to see some movement in the distance, but to her surprise, it looked completely deserted. Her brow furrowed as she hit the town limits, straining her eyes for any movement.

  There was absolutely none at all.

  She stopped the idling bike, holding herself up with her legs, and let out a loud yell. She put a hand on her gun barrel, expecting something, anything to tear out at her.

  But nothing happened.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she muttered.

  She eased into a slow putter, heading down the center line of the highway, peering suspiciously down each side street as she passed. The whole town looked completely ghosted.

  Well, if this place is abandoned, it might have some useful stuff, she thought. Can’t hurt to look, right? She came to a stop in the main intersection, looking up at the sign pointing to the 22 miles to Fort Davis.

  Okay, I should be safe to investigate, right? She paused briefly and turned the bike, heading slowly down the main drag. The storefronts were all locked up, the shelves and windows completely empty. Nothing was broken, on fire, or had cars smashed into it. It was as if the town was raptured, taking everything valuable along with all the people.

  Clara chewed the inside of her cheek, a growing sense of unease gripping her chest. Not only was this insanely creepy, but if she couldn’t find anything useful than they were boned with the Cartel.

  As she passed a little street a few blocks down from the main highway, she froze at the sight of a barricade up ahead. She stopped immediately and stared, knowing there was no point in trying to hide. If someone was going to see her, they would have spotted her coming.

  Looks like the local church group went the extra mile, she thought as she inched forward, making out a few giant crosses lining the road.

  Her stomach sank as she got closer, noticing that there were bodies stuck through the chest on the barricade, and a few impaled lengthwise, bloody wood sticking up out of their mouths. She put her hand to her mouth, stomach roiling as she came to a stop.

  There was a low moan, and Clara tensed, hand flying to her gun again, but upon listening harder, she realized it wasn’t a zombie. She reluctantly looked up at the nearest cross, a slightly shifting body crucified there. She immediately dismounted her bike, rushing over as the man started weakly mumbling in Spanish.

  “Hang tight, I’ll see if I can get you down,” she blurted, wringing her hands. Her heart clenched when she realized that his feet and hands had been pierced with railroad spikes, and she swallowed bile. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped, backing away slowly from the suffering man.

  “Now why in the world would you feel sorry for that piece of shit?” a man asked, his southern twang thick and close behind her.

  Clara immediately drew her gun, whipping around and coming face to face with a clean cut cowboy. He was older than her, his clothes pristine, looking like he’d just stepped out of a cigarette ad from the 1980’s. He held his hands up, palms out, but the four men standing behind him were armed to the teeth.

  “That very well may be a valid question,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “But what do you say before we talk about it, I put my friend here away?” She inclined her head towards her gun.

  The man smiled, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, it almost would have seemed warm and inviting. “Might be in your best interests there, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Just take her nice and slow there, and we’ll treat you nice.”

  “Just so we’re clear, y’all ain’t taking me anywhere,” she said firmly. “I can guarantee you that.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry, treat you nice wasn’t a euphemism for anything.”

  Clara nodded and took a deep breath, lowering her hands and sliding her gun back into its holster. She let her arms fall to her sides, and let out her lungful as the four men pointed their guns at the ground.

  “Now, with that unpleasantness out of the way,” the man continued, “why don’t you tell me what in the hell you are doing here and why you are trying to help that asshole?”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m just passing through, that’s all. I didn’t see anything moving in the town from the highway and thought I’d check it out. Supplies are going to be real scarce real soon.”

  “So you just thought you’d come and loot to your heart’s content, huh?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Well the place did look abandoned. Just didn’t seem right to let stuff go to waste if there wasn’t anybody here to use it.”

  “Fair enough, I’ll give you that,” he said, and motioned behind her. “But that doesn’t explain why you were willing to help that asshole. You sure nobody sent you to retrieve him and his buddies?”

  Clara shook her head. “I have no clue who any of them are,” she promised. “I just saw something that frankly, I’ll never be able to unsee. It was just an instinctual response to offer to help.” She turned her head so that she didn’t have to see the impaled corpses in her periphery.

  The cowboy studied her closely, eyes narrowed, sizing her up. “So the Cartel didn’t send a pretty little white girl to get their men?”

  She snarled at the mention of the Cartel. “They have other uses for pretty little white girls.” She let the insinuation hang in the air, forcing down the memories of her less fortunate friends who’d suffered before she escaped the clutches of the Rivas’. “You sure these guys are with the Cartel? Given what they did in El Paso, this seems a bit far out for them.”

  “Yeah, we’re sure.” The cowboy nodded. “They came from the east a few days after this stuff started going down. They rolled in here like they owned the place, and started causing trouble. So we put an end to that real quick.”

  She put a finger up in the air. “Okay, then. Excuse me for just a moment.” S
he turned her back on the men, and drew her handgun, popping off a quick shot into the crucified man’s leg. The man screamed in anguish, blood pouring from his busted mouth, and she holstered her gun immediately, turning back around.

  “Apologies,” she said hotly. “I don’t really have a good relationship with the Cartel, so I needed to let out some frustration.”

  The cowboy raised an eyebrow. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you ain’t with them.”

  She shook her head. “They took over El Paso last week and started doing horrific-”

  “Let me go ahead and just stop you right there,” he cut her off. “We really don’t care about your problems as we have more than enough to deal with ourselves. Now you’ve convinced me that you’re not one of them, which is the only reason you haven’t joined them up on that cross. We just want to be left alone to fend for ourselves.”

  Clara put a hand on her hip. “There’s only five of you, we have a community you can come to.”

  “We have a community too, up in Fort Davis,” he replied. “And just a free bit of advice, we won’t be nearly this friendly if you or any of your friends come a’knockin’. So why don’t you hop on your little bike there, and go back to where you came from?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I need to pass through here tonight, and maybe in the future too,” she said sternly. “If you don’t want me in your town, I’ll honor that request. But you can’t shut down that road because doing so would mean the death of my community. And at the moment, we’re the only buffer between you and the Cartel. While I’m impressed with your handiwork, I don’t think they’d share that sentiment.” She motioned to the crucified man, fire in her eyes.

  The cowboy pressed his fingers together as if praying. “All right,” he finally said, “I’ll give you free passage on this highway. No stopping or turn offs. We have a deal?”

  “Deal,” she replied immediately, putting a hand to her chest.

  He nodded. “Head on out, then.”

  Clara didn’t wait for any further conversation, and hopped on the bike. She started it up and peeled out, back towards the highway. As she crossed the outskirts, she pulled off to the side of the road, shutting down the bike and leaning over, chest heaving with panic.

  She took deep lungfuls of air, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. That could have gone a whole lot worse.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “That does not look fun,” Trenton whispered as the trio ducked behind a low wooden fence on the side of the road. The hospital parking lot was packed with several hundred zombies, huddling around and shambling about. Some growled as they bonked against each other, some simply stared off into space.

  “Come on, it’s only five, maybe six hundred zombies at most,” Reed joked under his breath. “You’ve got a machete. Have at it.” He motioned to the empty space between them and the horde, roughly a football field away.

  Rogers frowned at the two-story hospital, with its busted windows and the ambulance smashed into the side. “Actually, not a bad idea.”

  “Um, Rogers,” Trenton stammered, eyes wide, “not sure what you’re thinking about but you can count us out.”

  The Detective scoffed. “I’m not saying hack them all to death, but we’re going to have to do something to lure them away.”

  “We have guns, you know,” Reed put in.

  Rogers shook his head. “Do you want to risk attracting the school horde?” he asked, waiting for his team to begrudgingly agree. “Speaking of which, we should probably check on that.” He pulled out his walkie talkie, making sure to turn the volume down to the lowest setting. “Come in, Leon.”

  After a moment of silent and a soft click, Leon said, “Hey, Detective. How you boys doing down there?”

  “Oh, you know, just scouting out the neighborhood,” Rogers replied quietly. “Heard the schools were good in this area, so figured we’d check out the real estate.”

  Leon chuckled in response. “Oh yeah? Found any good deals?”

  “Eh, you know, plenty of property up for grabs, but from what we’re seeing it’s a pretty rough neighborhood,” the Detective said.

  “Speaking of which, hang on a second,” Leon said, and then there was a click before the trio heard the crack of a rifle off in the distance. “Sorry about that,” he came back, “had a straggler that wanted to head your way.”

  Trenton pursed his lips. “Hopefully that gunshot didn’t attract more.”

  “A single rifle shot is hard to locate due to the echo,” Rogers explained. “Firing off multiples, however-”

  “You boys still there?” Leon’s voice cut in on the radio.

  The Detective raised the walkie talkie to his lips. “Yeah, sorry, had to put Trenton’s mind at ease over your shots.”

  “No worries,” came the reply. “So where y’all at?”

  “Just getting ready to move the horde into storage,” Rogers said.

  The radio went silent, and then another shot echoed. “Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but y’all might wanna speed up your raid,” Leon said.

  The Detective sighed. “Shit, what now?”

  “Just had a dozen or so wander past in your direction,” came the reply. “I know y’all can handle that amount, but you know how these things like to conga line.”

  “It’s always something, isn’t it?” Rogers asked.

  Leon chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t be our luck if it wasn’t.”

  “All right, we’re going dark so we can get this done,” Rogers said.

  “Be safe, brother.”

  The Detective nodded. “You know it.” He clicked off the radio and stashed it back in his pocket. “Okay, new plan. You two think you can handle moving these fuckers to storage?”

  “Shouldn’t be a big deal,” Trenton replied. “What are you going to do?”

  He motioned to the building. “As soon as you get them out of the parking lot, I’m going in.”

  “Alone?!” Reed hissed.

  Rogers nodded. “Yep, alone.” He motioned towards his projected path. “I’m going to make a beeline to the pharmacy and stock up. With any luck, I’ll be in and out by the time you get the bonfire roaring.”

  “But what if there are zombies inside?” Reed demanded. “You gonna machete them all?”

  “Hell no, I’m going to open fire,” the Detective said.

  Trenton threw his arms up. “Won’t that attract the school horde?”

  “Nah, hospitals are well insulated, so that should muffle the sound enough that it won’t carry,” Rogers assured them.

  His companions shared a skeptical look, and Reed stammered, “I… I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”

  “Truth be told, neither have I,” Rogers admitted. “But it sounds like something that should be true, right?”

  Trenton scrubbed his hands down his face. “Given that it sounds like we’re already on the clock, I don’t think it’s going to matter much.”

  Rogers shrugged. “Well, we’d better get a move on, then.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “So, do you want to rock paper scissors to decide who goes up to get their attention?” Reed asked as they casually walked up the street to get in position.

  Trenton laughed. “I just figured I was gonna pull rank on you.”

  “And here I was, thinking we were equals.” Reed shook his head.

  His friend smirked. “Well, that’s what you get for thinking.”

  They stopped behind a garbage can, surveying the parking lot.

  “All kidding aside, how do you want to play this?” Reed asked.

  His partner took a deep breath. “We get their attention and casually walk the four blocks to the warehouse. Once we get them going, I say you run up ahead and get out of sight. I’ll lead ‘em through to the back and you lock ‘em up.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” Reed agreed.

  Trenton shook his head. “Somehow I doubt it will be.”

  His friend extended his fist, h
olding it out over his open palm.

  Trenton raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

  “Rock paper scissors,” Reed said. “Let’s do it.”

  His partner chuckled and shook his head, and then glanced at the ground. “How about we play, rock rock rock?” He picked up a fist-sized rock off of the ground and held it up.

  “Ooh, I like this idea a lot better,” Reed said with a grin.

  They gathered up a few rocks and crouched behind a wayward car, one behind the hood, one behind the trunk. They nodded at each other and then stood up, firing their projectiles. The first few landed just short of the parking lot, but after a few tosses they got the range down and began bonking some zombies.

  “Oh yeah, that one got him good,” Trenton declared as his rock smacked into the back of a corpse’s head.

  A few zombies turned and saw the two walking meals across the street, moaning their excitement and alerting their friends.

  “I think we got their attention,” Reed said as the ghouls began to shamble towards them, and dropped his rocks.

  Trenton followed suit, and they backed slowly down the road. This spurred the horde, and the faster zombies leapt to life, the group moving like a wave towards them.

  “I think I’m good from here,” he said. “Go get in position.”

  They exchanged a fist bump, and Reed said, “See you in a few, bud.” He took off running towards the warehouse.

  Trenton turned his back to the horde, keeping a brisk pace and constantly checking on them over his shoulder. “That’s it, right this way,” he called, voice shaking. “We got a barbecue all set up for you.”

  Rogers peeked out from behind a wooden shed in a backyard near the parking lot as the horde began to move away from the hospital entrance. “Good job, boys,” he said quietly. He checked his handgun to make sure that the magazine was full and the safety was off, and then pulled his rifle from his back and did the same.

  He watched the last of the stragglers leave the parking lot, and then darted soundlessly across the asphalt to the front entrance. He ducked quickly behind a pillar in the breezeway, rolling around the inside and kneeling down. A sigh of relief escaped him as he peeked back around, noting that none of the zombies had noticed his stealthy approach.