Dead America The Third Week (Book 8): Dead America, Bismarck Pt. 2

by Slaton, Derek

  Both girls nodded solemnly.

  “Okay, good, come here,” Susanna said, and opened her arms. The little girls scurried towards her and wrapped their arms around her neck, burying their tiny scared faces into her neck. She grabbed them and stood up, two quivering bundles. “I’m taking them to the car with the doc,” she said to Myles. “Can you…” She inclined her head to the backyard.

  Myles nodded and watched as she went down the hallway. When she got to the front door, he went outside, gun raised, prepared for anything. He went up to the man, finding a stab wound through his throat. The woman appeared to have a broken nose, and a stab wound in her chest. He shook his head in disbelief, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.

  Susanna emerged from the kitchen, finding him standing there, bewildered. “The girls are safe,” she said. “Are their parents…”

  “Both dead,” Myles said tersely. “Stab wounds.” He clenched his fists. “I’m going to murder this motherfucker six ways from Sunday.”

  “Get in line,” Susanna agreed. “But we have bigger problems.”

  His brow furrowed as he turned to her. “What?”

  “The little girl said the bad man took Ann to where the monster is,” she replied.

  He looked confused for a moment, and then realization dawned on his face. “Why would they go to the zombie?”

  “Whatever the reason, it can’t be good,” she said, letting out a deep whoosh of breath.

  Myles led the charge towards the east where the zombie had been tangled up in barbed wire as her Ann’s report earlier.

  “Got something!” Susanna hissed, skidding to a stop to look down at some tire tracks.

  Myles ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “God, he’s not on foot.”

  They picked up the pace, running the half a mile to the fence. There were two zombies tangled up in the barbed wire so much that it was impossible for them to break free.

  “Neither one of them is Ann,” Myles mused.

  Susanna’s breath caught in her throat. “Look. His mouth.” She pointed to the front zombie, dripping fresh crimson from its maw.

  “What the hell is going on?” Myles breathed, as the zombie found a small bit of flesh it hadn’t ingested earlier, chewing on it and agitating its undead friend.

  Susanna looked at the tire tracks, which ran parallel to the fence and the road. “Oh god,” she said slowly, putting a hand to her chest. “That’s the direction of the Johnston place.”

  “There’s fourteen people there,” Myles growled. “And if this maniac infected Ann…”

  They looked at each other and then sprinted for the car. As they approached, the doc got out of the driver’s seat, gun at the ready.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You and the girls need to stay here,” Susanna instructed as she skirted the car. “Go to the front room, lock it up tight, and wait for someone from the Ranch to come get you.”

  The old man shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “We may have runners,” she said, eyes blazing.

  His face went pale, and opened the back door of the car. “Come on girls, we’re going to go back inside and play some card games,” he said brightly. “You like card games, don’t you?”

  They reluctantly got out of the car, nodding and clutching each other.

  Susanna grabbed his arm as he passed her. “Grab the front porch mat on your way in,” she said quietly. “There’s a rather large blood stain by the stairs, and I don’t think it would be good for those girls to see.”

  He nodded and headed inside.

  “Susanna we gotta move,” Myles said from the driver’s seat.

  She ran to the passenger’s side and jumped in, slamming the door behind her. “Let’s go!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “How in the holy hell can you have half a dozen prime-looking vehicles like this and not a single damn one of them runs?” Glenn groaned, scrubbing his hands down his face.

  Emily shook her head. “Collectors collect for different reasons.”

  “Well, if you got a car that don’t run,” the cowboy replied, kicking the bumper of one of the beaters, “you ain’t a collector, you a junker.”

  Ernest raised a hand. “Totally agree with that.” He raised an eyebrow as the others gaped at him. “What? Cars are meant to be driven.”

  “No, not that,” Glenn replied, waving his hands in front of his face. “It’s just, you agreed with me on something.”

  Emily grinned. “Well mark the day and time down, because the apocalypse just officially began.”

  They shared a chuckle as they congregated in the center of the garage.

  “So, in all seriousness,” Glenn finally said with a sigh, “how the hell are we gettin’ outta this one?” he asked.

  Ernest turned towards the front of the building, peeking out through the slats in the blinds. There were still dozens of zombies on the road. Even without the sirens still blaring, they were moving in one direction and likely weren’t going to stop until something gave them a reason to.

  “Well, going out the front is a bust,” he muttered. “Unless you want to watch me gun down half the population of Bismarck.”

  Emily approached the side street window, peeking out at the handful of creatures close to the building. She strained to get the right angle to look further north, but she couldn’t quite see.

  “Looks like we can get out this side,” she said, “but I can’t see anything past half a block up.”

  Her companions sauntered over, taking turns straining to see at the right angle, but it didn’t work.

  “You got anything, city boy?” Glenn asked.

  Ernest shook his head. “Not a damn thing, hillbilly.” He sighed and stepped back from the window.

  Emily crossed her arms. “So what’s it going to be, boys?” she asked. “You wanna chance it?”

  “I mean, as much as I would love to spend eternity trapped in a mechanic’s garage with you two,” Ernest replied with a wry smile, “I think we need to make a break for it.”

  Glenn nodded. “Agreed.” He shrugged as the other two took their turn to gape at him this time. “What? He started the apocalypse, I’m just continuing it.”

  “How are you two doing on ammo?” Ernest asked, reloading his own from the pouch.

  Emily checked guns. “I got a mag and a half on my handgun, and a few rounds for my rifle.” She sighed. “Of course if we’re running and gunning, it doesn’t do us much good.”

  “Four in the rifle, twenty in the handgun,” Glenn reported.

  Ernest took a deep breath. “Well, I think it’s safe to say, you two only shoot when absolutely necessary,” he declared. “If we do run into trouble, I’ll do what I can to pick the ones on the side off to give us a path.”

  “The Capitol building is two blocks to the west, so there’s a good chance we’re going to run into a lot of company,” Emily warned.

  Glenn held up a fist. “Then we bust through ‘em.”

  “How far north do you think we need to go?” Ernest asked.

  “Two blocks up,” Emily replied, motioning with her hand, “then we start heading to the west.”

  Glenn furrowed his brow. “But won’t that take us through the Capitol grounds?”

  “Yep, which is nice and hilly,” Emily confirmed. “Going to be a lot less likely those things are going to be able to bunch up on us.”

  The cowboy nodded in appreciation. “Well hell, girl,” he declared, “it’s clear you thought this through. Let us in on everything.”

  “Okay,” she began, using her hands as she spoke. “We get past the Capitol, work our way through the small neighborhood beside it. If we can get a car, great, if not, the golf course is right next door.”

  Glenn snapped his fingers. “And that’ll take us up to the I-94 bridge on the north side.” He grinned. “Yeah, I can dig it.”

  “I trust you,” Ernest added with a shrug, “just consider me to be along for the rid
e. If you want something shot, just point.”

  She smiled at him and headed away from the window. Glenn smacked Ernest on the shoulder and leaned in.

  “I think she’s sweet on you, city boy,” he whispered conspiratorially.

  Ernest froze. “Wait. Really?” His eyes widened. “Nah, you’re just playing with me, right?”

  “I swear I’ll never understand how someone so oblivious could make enough money to afford a shiny rifle like that,” Glenn said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

  Ernest rolled his eyes. “And I swear I’ll never understand how you know what oblivious means.”

  They shared a laugh, and the shorter man clapped his friend on the back.

  “Thanks for telling me,” he said quietly. “I appreciate the observation.”

  Glenn puffed out his chest. “What are hillbilly wingmen for?”

  They turned towards the woman in question, as she looked around on the tool wall.

  “You about ready to go?” Ernest asked,

  She held up a hand. “Almost,” she said, “just need to pick up some essentials.” She picked up an old leather tool bag the size of a large purse, and headed back over to the confused men.

  “You women and your handbags,” Glenn said, raising an eyebrow.

  Ernest immediately smacked him on the arm, and the cowboy playfully rubbed it as if it had actually hurt.

  Emily rummaged in the bag, pulling out a handful of wrenches and ratchets, some up to a foot long.

  “Okay, I’m lost on this one,” Ernest admitted, scratching the back of his head.

  She smiled and tossed the tools back into the bag. “Never know when we’re going to need a distraction,” she said, and jiggled the bag, making a racket of metal clanking against metal.

  Glenn nodded. “Oh, she’s a smart one.”

  “Coming from you, I’m sure it means absolutely nothing, hillbilly,” Ernest quipped.

  The cowboy barked a laugh. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get outta here.”

  They stood by the window, plotting their move. There were easily twenty zombies still in the immediate vicinity, but they were spread out fairly well.

  “What do you think?” Emily asked, turning to Ernest.

  He pursed his lips for a moment. “The hardest part is going to be getting out of this window, since we have to go one at a time,” he said. “I can cover you, but it’s going to be loud. So I was thinking we could try out one of your decoys. Throw it against the wall of the building across from us, hopefully draw some of them that way.” He pointed in the direction he meant. “As soon as we’re out, we start running and don’t look back.”

  “And if they don’t bite?” Glenn asked.

  Ernest held up his rifle. “Then they get a bullet in the face.”

  “I’m in,” the cowboy replied, raising his fist in solidarity.

  The trio readied themselves by the window, the men on either side, each with a hand on the base. Emily held a large foot long wrench, reading to wind up and throw. She nodded, and they shoved the window open.

  As soon as it was clear, she stepped forward and whipped the tool with everything she had, and they closed the window quickly behind it. The trio watched as the wrench soared through the air, landing just short of the building across the street. The heavy metal clanged loudly on the pavement, drawing the attention of most of the zombies nearby.

  As the ghouls converged on the tool on the road, Ernest opened the window again.

  “Go!” he hissed.

  Glenn struggled to get through the thin opening, but he squeezed through and lowered himself to the ground as quietly as he could. He moved to the side to get out of the way.

  The zombies had all turned their attention towards the wrench, save for the closest one that heard his boots hit pavement. The old tattered corpse slowly turned and moaned, reaching rotted hands as she shambled towards him.

  Emily threw another wrench, hoping to clear the zombie and make noise behind it, but it hit it in the shoulder and fell to the ground beside it. The noise immediately attracted the rest of the horde that had been distracted, and they turned back to the live humans.

  “Go now!” Ernest urged.

  Emily quickly clambered through the window, and as soon as she was clear, Ernest opened fire. He shot seven times in rapid succession, knocking down five zombies in the front of the pack. With a few seconds bought, he dove out the window to join his companions.

  Glenn fired twice, hitting the next two closest zombies as they headed north. They broke away from the alley, but the gunfire attracted creatures from the north that turned towards the gunfire. When they got to the first intersection, they saw a few dozen zombies pouring into the road ahead.

  “Which way?” Glenn asked, whipping to look towards the Capitol building to the west a few blocks.

  “There could be a ton of them around the Capitol,” Emily said, turning to Ernest.

  The wiry man shook his head. “But we know there’s a ton of them to the north,” he countered, pointing to the wave of zombies up the road.

  “Fuck it, good enough logic for me,” Glenn cut in, and took off running westward towards the Capitol building.

  The other two rushed after him, moans growing in volume behind them as the two groups of zombies converted in the intersection and headed after them.

  Within half a block of the Capitol, Ernest took the lead, slowing down from a run to a deliberate pace to maximize his aim. As they came around the corner on the last block, there were eight zombies blocking the most direct path to the grounds, looking like an undead tour group from hell.

  “When I stop shooting, go to the right,” Ernest instructed, and then took aim, firing off three shots and hitting the three creatures to the right in the head, dropping them. “Go!”

  Glenn took off first, leading the trio past the outstretched arms of the rest of the tour group, causing the zombies to trip over their fallen friends.

  When they reached the hilly grounds of the Capitol, they saw it ran the equivalent of four city blocks to the west. They skidded to a slower pace, as the zombies were thinned out due to the terrain. They got to the top of the last hill before the neighborhood, easily dodging and emerging without a zombie even within fifty yards of them.

  When they crested the hill, they froze at the sight of a hundred ghouls between them and the first row of houses.

  “Guessing them wrenches ain’t gonna do much on grass,” Glenn muttered.

  Emily let out a deep breath. “Afraid not,” she sighed.

  Ernest looked down intently as he reloaded his gun, wheels turning in his brain as he calculated shots in his head.

  Emily cocked her head. “You see something?” she asked.

  “I think I can make it work,” he said, “but it’s gonna suck.”

  Glenn barked a dark laugh. “That describes this whole damn day, city boy.”

  “Just wait,” Ernest warned.

  The cowboy sighed heavily.

  “So which side are we going through?” Emily asked, turning to face him.

  He stared at her, ignoring the sun glinting off of her sandy brown locks, curiosity in her pretty eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “With my life,” she replied immediately, and the response made his chest tighten with something he wasn’t ready to deal with just yet.

  He motioned to the horde. “We’re going through the center.”

  “What in the hell kinda look did you just give him, girl?!” Glenn exclaimed. “It scrambled his brain.” He shook his head vigorously. “Plus, I’m insulted that you didn’t ask me if I trusted you.”

  Ernest smirked. “Well, I already know you do,” he insisted, “because we’ve been zombie hunting partners for two weeks now.”

  “That wasn’t cause I trusted you, city boy,” Glenn shot back, pointing a finger at him. “That’s because I drew the short straw.”

  Ernest put a hand over his heart. “I guarantee after this, you’re gonna trust m
e.”

  Glenn growled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Okay,” he finally said, “what harebrained scheme you come up with now?”

  “You’re going to get a head of steam and barrel through the center of them, and Emily is going to follow you,” Ernest said, pointing straight through the horde.

  Glenn crossed his arms. “And what the hell are you gonna be doing?”

  “Picking off as many as I can on the sides,” he explained. “Once you’re through, I’m going to take off, hopefully getting through before the opening closes.”

  Emily shook her head vigorously. “That’s crazy!” she insisted. “You just need to come with us.”

  “They’re too thick,” Ernest replied. “You’re going to need someone expanding the hole you’re creating, or else they’ll just collapse on you.” He shot Glenn a pointed look, and the cowboy nodded, hooking a thumb into his jeans.

  “City boy here is right,” he added. “And don’t worry, when we get across, we can clear the path for him.”

  Emily clenched her jaw for a moment, and then took a deep breath, nodding jerkily. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  The trio walked down the hill, closing in on the horde for the plan to take fruition.

  “You’re one crazy sumbitch, city boy,” Glenn said with a sigh. “We’ll see you on the other side.” He turned to Emily. “You ready?” He waited for her nod, and then held up a fist. “Okay, stay on my ass.”

  He took off running, and she moved close behind him. He picked up a head of steam, crashing into the front edge of the horde. The first one he hit flew off of its feet, crashing into a couple of others directly behind it. There were about a dozen zombies remaining in their path.

  As soon as the cowboy made contact, Ernest started shooting. He started with the right, popping off three quick shots, dropping three zombies, before switching gears to do the same on the left. After the initial shots, he stepped forward and fired again.

  Glenn shoved a teenage zombie aside with such force it flew through the air, crashing hard onto the ground. As it landed, the zombies beside it turned, and their heads exploded from Ernest’s precise shooting.