by Brown, TW
They would not be safe unless every single one of those zealots were wiped from the face of the earth. And just killing the apparent leader was not enough; that would simply create a vacancy that would be filled by the next nutcase.
“Kill ‘em all,” Joel muttered. He didn’t notice Debra smile and nod.
10
Who Lives and Who Dies
As Boulder City passed by their view, a few of the team could be heard making sounds of astonishment. The consequences of bringing the power back up in this area without advanced preparations had taken a bigger toll than they’d realized. Joel was mentally berating himself for not taking that into account. He realized that he was learning on the fly, but he would need to be smarter moving forward, and making the same mistake twice would be unacceptable.
Joel’s eyes could not help but drift over and search the scene on the driver’s side. A slight pang came unbidden when he saw what remained of the mobile home park that slid past. It was still shrouded in a haze of smoke that wafted from the remains of what had once been part of his real estate portfolio.
He’d made it a point every year to visit each park at least a half a dozen times. He’d refused to let any of them slip into disrepair. He’d built quite an empire for himself over the years, and likely made in a month more than most of his tenants did in a year if they combined their incomes. He prided himself on knowing almost all of his tenants by name. From what he saw, he doubted that few if any had managed to survive.
“Holy fucksticks,” Debra gasped as they rounded a bend.
Hanging from the overpass they were approaching were at least fifty bodies. All of them were truly dead, but somebody had certainly been busy to fashion each of those nooses and toss each body over the edge. However, that was only part of the horror of the scene.
The overpass was thick with a few hundred zombies. The long line of now defunct school busses the most likely source of this particular group of walkers. Not one of them was over ten years old.
“It’s like they’re watching us,” Malik whispered in Joel’s headset.
“Get us through as fast as you can,” Joel barked, patting Debra on the shoulder.
The Humvee began to accelerate, its powerful engine rumbling louder. They plunged into the swath of shadow the overpass provided and then burst into the sunshine just a few seconds later.
Joel let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. He was just glancing into the sideview mirror when Malik’s voice came through with uncharacteristic horror.
“Dear mother of God, there’s no fucking way this is happening,” Malik moaned.
Debra slammed on the brakes, her own eyes riveted to her sideview mirror as well. Joel was still processing what he was seeing when the sounds of Malik opening fire with the machine gun erupted.
Both embankments were a writhing mass of the walking dead. These were not children, but instead, just massive swarms of the adult version.
“What the hell…?” Malik’s voice sounded strangled as it faded.
Then Joel heard it. The first time, he wasn’t sure of what it was. But as the Humvee’s engine dropped to an idle and the sound came again, he was able to locate and verify what he was hearing.
“That’s just wrong,” Joel breathed.
In his sideview mirror, he watched as several of the zombie children had migrated over to the other side of the overpass. Many held an assortment of solid objects in their hands, and in a hellish cacophony, they slammed, smacked, or beat those objects against the metal guardrail of the overpass.
“They’re ringing a goddamned dinner bell,” Debra gasped.
“This isn’t possible,” Will’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Everybody shut the hell up!” Joel snapped.
He knew well enough from his time in combat that fear could be contagious. If a few people started getting panicky, it could turn to a landslide in a hurry.
“We need to get our asses moving before we get cut off,” Joel said with as much calm authority as he could muster.
Debra started forward. Glancing in the sideview mirror, he could see the other vehicles that remained in their convoy starting to roll as well.
Looking around, Joel felt a chill go through his body. Much of the highway was wide open. Unlike the movies that often depicted miles and miles of bumper-to-bumper traffic clogging the streets, there were only pockets. Those pockets often coincided with a major collision of sorts.
This was one of those spots. Up ahead about three hundred yards was what looked like a nasty pile-up. People running for their lives had taken it upon themselves to swing out into the emergency lanes as well as oncoming traffic. The westbound lanes had been probably fairly clear until the accident in the eastbound lane had caused people to try and escape by any means necessary.
People leaving Las Vegas using this particular highway had probably been heading east towards Arizona. The accident up ahead involved what looked to be military transport as well as large chartered busses. In the mix were a variety of privately owned vehicles as well. Some of the smaller ones were probably what made up a good portion of the debris scattered everywhere.
The problem that he had at the moment was that this seemed to be too much of a coincidence. Why would the zombie children gather in this particular spot? Why hadn’t they wandered away from those school busses on the overpass? It was as if they’d congregated here with the sole intention of springing this trap. For the most part, they would be forced to remain within the confines of the highway as concrete walls lined both sides along this part of the corridor that wove through Boulder City.
He would worry about that later. Right now, he just wanted to get free and clear of this mess. Glancing to the left and right, he saw the waves of undead stumbling, staggering, and lurching down the hill toward them. Perhaps later they could come back and check the area out and try to figure out what had brought this horde to this precise location.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he whispered.
“What’s that?” Debra asked absently as she swerved to get around what looked like the rear half of a sports car that had literally been blown in two.
As they neared the major part of the accident, Joel could see several squirming figures inside the vehicles. Fortunately, the glass was either so cracked or smoke filmed that it was almost impossible to see the interior clearly. His eyes did land on a figure that was on its belly, crawling out from under a large pickup truck.
The man’s face had mostly been burnt away, leaving bits of charred flesh and lots of exposed skull. His mouth was made even more hideous due to the lack of lips. Dark teeth gnashed and a black tongue darted out and swished around like an angry cat’s tail.
By the time they managed to get past the wreckage, the army of the undead had closed almost half the distance. Joel was surprised at the sigh of relief he breathed once they were clear and the Humvee was able to accelerate and leave the scene behind. He would worry about how they would deal with the situation on the return trip later. Right now, his sole focus needed to shift back to what they would face when they reached Las Vegas.
Once Boulder City was behind them once and for all, the drive remained uneventful almost to the point of dull. Only, nobody seemed to be able to relax. Joel noted the way that Debra kept gripping and re-gripping the wheel. They all knew that this little stretch of highway was only temporarily void of activity. They would be coming to the Mission Hills area next, and that would signal the end of any sort of break they might be trying to enjoy right now.
Up ahead, they would have the choice of Highway 582, or Interstate 515. Both would take them through what had once been a heavily and densely populated area. Joel already knew what waited for them on the interstate. The road, while not empty of abandoned vehicles, was traversable. This was largely in part to the fact that a few of the neighborhoods had been entirely razed by fires that had burned out of control in those early days when power had been on everywhere but all civ
il services had become non-existent.
He’d recalled the reports of the highways being nothing short of a zombie feeding ground. That had caused many people to actually try and flee on foot. Some of the last local news footage had been of crowds of the living running for their lives…smack dab into walls of the walking dead.
They would stick to the interstate. That much had already been established. They were rounding the big dog leg on Highway 93 and entering a section of road with weathered hills rising up on both sides when Joel called for Debra to stop. The sign on the left hand side of the road read: Railroad Pass Hotel Casino.
The parking lot was massive and included what appeared to be some sort of truck stop. At least ten of the big rigs were still parked, and a few merited stopping on the way back to inspect provided this operation went well and he was alive to make the return trip.
He wasn’t sure why he’d not paid any attention to this location his last time through. The logos on the sides of the trailers were enough to warrant checking the place out. Two of them were gasoline tankers. One was from one of those big box hardware stores, and three were from Walmart. There was an 18-wheel flatbed loaded with what looked like roofing supplies and another with pallets of bags that might be concrete. Of course, the highway would need to be cleared, but that shouldn’t be too difficult. But driving these rigs back to their community would be like an early Christmas.
“Note this location,” Joel said into his mic. “I want us to work towards getting a security post here. That will effectively put us at both ends of Boulder City.”
Debra made a noise that he took as an affirmative. There were an assortment of affirmatives from several others as they rolled past. And then they were back in what Joel was now considering “the Wasteland” as the highway gave over to the larger interstate. But this stretch was short-lived as the smudge of what had once been the Las Vegas suburbs came into view.
“No way,” Debra breathed in an uncharacteristic display of astonishment.
It had been just days, but in the time since his last trip to the Strip, Las Vegas was deteriorating. He did not think that it would be more than a matter of a few years and there might be almost no sign that this area had once been a burgeoning city with suburbs that had begun to sprawl fearlessly, if not foolishly, into the desert.
Joel was no stranger to a war zone. He’d seen his share during his tour. This was something else entirely. Buildings were shot up, burned down, and/or graffiti tagged beyond belief. Most of the graffiti was easy to determine the origin of with phrases of “He is Risen”, “The end has come! Praise God!” and a variety of scripture chapter and verse tags. But there was still a fair share of obscene images, words, and phrases sticking out like weeds.
Amidst all the chaos were buildings or residences that appeared untouched. It reminded Joel of how a tornado could rip through a neighborhood, destroying some houses entirely while others were left without a scratch. And now that they had rounded the big bend, the dark smudge on the horizon told them exactly where the city of Las Vegas sat in relation to their current location.
Joel opened the map that he’d insisted be placed in each vehicle and began to study it as they rolled along. Twice he glanced up when somebody would remark about what were simply the latest in a string of horrors that gave the impression they were rolling into the gates of Hell itself.
The second time he looked up, he was just in time to see a group of four or five people sprinting after them, waving their arms wildly over their heads in a futile attempt to flag them down. There was one Humvee a deuce-and-a-half, and a panel van still in his convoy.
Looking up, he saw the signs for the Interstate 515/215 interchange. An idea came. Part of him wanted to push it away. But it was perhaps the best strategy considering what they faced.
“Okay, listen up,” Joel keyed the radio. “We are rolling into an unknown situation against hostiles of both the living and undead variety. I want half the team to go with Will. The Deuce follow Interstate 215 into the zone. I will be circling around and coming in from the north. Both groups will use Interstate 15 to approach. Once we separate, I want us to maintain radio silence. I am not sure what their monitoring capabilities are, but if we hit them from two directions, I believe we will have the best chance at success. Both teams have the noisemakers, and are to utilize them at their discretion.”
“Roger that,” Will answered after a brief pause.
“See everybody on the other side.” Joel pulled his headset off and tossed it on the floor.
For the next several minutes, the only sounds were of the engine of the Humvee as it churned along the interstate. Eventually, the sounds of a firefight could start to be heard intermittently. The Strip was to their left, so Joel would have to crane around and past Debra if he hoped to catch any glimpse, but he knew that it was a pointless exercise. Nothing could be done until they came all the way around the city and dropped on to Interstate 15 heading south and into the heart of Las Vegas.
As it was, they still had to roll through the heart of the residential suburbia that surrounded what had once been considered an adult vacation Mecca. As they rolled along, the going did become a bit more treacherous, and Debra spent her time equally between cursing the abandoned vehicles that were now more numerous and trying to avoid hitting the growing number of undead that were stumbling along.
Many of them had likely been drawn out by the sounds of gunfire and explosions in the distance, but more still were coming out as the growling engines of the Humvee and the van echoed off every flat surface that bordered the interstate.
According to the last sign they’d passed, the Interstate 15 junction was two miles ahead. Joel could feel a single bead of sweat on his neck as it rolled down his spine, sending a chill through his entire body.
“I just want to be on record as saying that this is not your best idea,” Debra muttered as they rolled along.
Joel glanced over and saw that she’d removed her headset. The conversation would be just between the two of them. It seemed that she gave him more reasons every day to respect and admire her.
“I understand,” Joel said with a nod. “And I know I am the one who has stated repeatedly that emotions would be a weakness. However, this young man represents a promise that I made. Also, if we can manage to rescue him, I believe we will grow our population in a big way and to our benefit. Every single person we save will see us as the sole reason they are alive.”
“That sort of gratitude only lasts so long, boss.”
“But in the time we have, I believe we can weed out those who don’t fit our mold and hone those we wish to keep.”
They drove in silence for a few moments, but eventually Debra spoke again. “This is still not a good idea. And you have to understand that we’ve already lost some people in this. We have to be able to not only refill those vacancies, but also come away with enough manpower to make this viable. You risk the morale of the entire community with this move, and I would not be doing you or me any favors by not pointing this out.”
Joel heard the hidden message in her voice. Part of him wanted to lash out, but he knew that would be pointless.
As they continued to drive on, he considered her words. He’d denied other attempts at rescues in the past claiming that it was not worth the risk to their manpower. Yet, here he was doing exactly what he’d forbidden. Of course, he couldn’t show any doubt in what he did. That was how leaders lost their flock.
He was about to try and make some sort of statement asserting his decision when what had once been the main strip of Las Vegas came into view on their left.
“Wow.” It was the only word that could find its way out of his mouth.
He had not really thought about this part of the city in the past several weeks. He certainly hadn’t realized that it was not nearly as interconnected as the newer area that he’d considered his home away from home.
“It’s a wasteland,” Debra breathed.
While the fir
es had gone out some time ago, many of the landmark casinos that had helped build Las Vegas into what it had become were little more than smoldering ruins. And then there were the undead.
“There must be thousands,” Joel said as he found himself unable to look away.
With many of the taller structures little more than mounds of smoking rubble, the undead could be seen in great numbers. It was also obvious that they were all headed in one direction.
He was scanning the road ahead when he heard a rumble that was not from his group. This was in front and growing louder.
“Stop,” he said, placing a hand on Debra’s arm.
The wait was short. The bullet-riddled sign ahead announced that they were approaching the Interstate 15 exits. North led to Salt Lake City and south would open up to Los Angeles. Coming down that southbound off-ramp were a procession of motorcycles.
Joel had not been as into the whole zombie genre as his wife, but he’d watched a few of the films with her. This one instantly brought to mind the motorcycle gang at the end of Dawn of the Dead. The reason Joel could remember this particular instance so well was because he’d commented on the idiocy of riding around in the zombie apocalypse on a bike. Add in what he knew about how the walking dead were apparently drawn to sound and he was stunned that this band of morons were still alive.
“Malik?” Joel called, still not keying the mic to maintain radio silence.
“Yeah, I’m on them,” the man shouted back.
It was also clear that the bikers had spotted them. The procession slowed and came to a stop just beyond the bend in the overpass that came from Interstate 15. They did not cluster, but instead, remained spread out.
Joel was deciding whether to just give Malik the go ahead to light this group up when one man engaged his kickstand and climbed off his bike. The rider pulled off his helmet and hung it on his handlebars before starting off on foot in Joel’s direction.
“Stay put and don’t hesitate to do what needs to be done,” Joel said as he removed his harness and exited the vehicle.
