“What the hell?”
“We’re not getting off.” One of the ZB’s yelled back.
“They have a goddamned tank,” Zoe yelled. “Get a move on! Grab gear. Grab water. Find a place to hide, but keep a CGI with you.”
CGI stood for Can’t Get Infected…the name they gave the homosexuals.
Ferdie zoomed past her and into the bus, his hair bouncing as he moved. He grabbed three backpacks of gear and tossed them over his shoulder. “Come on. Get off the damn bus.”
Ferdie saw Wendell take off alone and head up into the rocks on the hill behind them. He called out to Hunter, “That way. Follow Wendell.”
Hunter and Fletcher took off after Wendell. As an un-armed ZB, Wendell, their resident genius, wouldn’t last an hour.
Zoe watched Hunter and Fletcher catch up to Wendell moments before a man eater rose off the ground not twenty feet ahead. Hunter rammed a crossbow bolt into its temple. He yanked the bolt from its head and then kept moving away from the bus to higher ground.
“Go,” Fletcher said, pushing Wendell. The two men continued to run toward the hills. Hunter killed two more zombies to keep them from pursuing his dad and Wendell. As Zombie Bait, Fletcher and Wendell had to reach higher ground to be safer from the man eaters surrounding them, so Hunter bought them more time by killing any that might follow.
Safer.
There was no such thing in a zombie apocalypse. They all knew that.
Zoe grabbed her pink crossbow, a backpack of bolts, and another bottled water, and threw the bag over her shoulder.
“Come on.” She jumped from the bus and coaxed everyone else out.
When the last person exited, the survivors scattered like leaves in the wind. “Zoe, look out!”
One of the Jeeps from the group around the Fuchs barreled toward the bus. Zoe dove into some bushes and was able to get away before the men peppered the bus with bullets.
The bus was Swiss cheese by the time they finished.
Zoe hid, crossbow at the ready, and watched the men examine the bus. They shot the engine and tires. The sound of punctured metal rang through the air, and when they stopped shooting, the silence was deafening.
“Jesus,” Zoe muttered. As she watched the men, they looked into the distance and talked among themselves. She caught a few words here and there, and that was when she knew.
Chills ran up her arms as something told her they might not all make it out of this one. A tank, military Jeeps, and men who would destroy a good vehicle spelled trouble. Big trouble.
“Look. Over there,” one of the men said. The group looked where he pointed and took off running in that direction.
From where she hid, Zoe couldn’t make out what they were running toward, so she poked her head up.
That’s when she saw what had grabbed their attention.
The men had spotted the Chips, a group of six male Vegas dancers who were going to help start the new sanctuary. One of the men had fallen. Five of the others helped him to his feet. In doing so, they were completely exposed and vulnerable. Once the fallen Chip was on his feet, they turned to the armed men and raised their hands in surrender even though each Chip held a sidearm in his hands.
“Please…don’t shoot.”
“Drop your weapons,” the red headed outlaw commanded as he aimed his rifle at them.
Zoe pointed her bow at the shooter and took aim. “Why aren’t they shooting?” she whispered, peering through the crossbow scope. “Come on, fellas, take the shot. Take the goddamned shot.”
As if on cue, the Chips began firing at the outlaw, who sprayed the air with hundreds of rounds from his automatic rifle.
“Oh no, no, no, no.” Just as Zoe had the shooter’s head in her sights, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled roughly to the ground. Her bolt shot errantly toward the sky.
“Shh, Zoe. It’s me.”
Zoe quit struggling and yanked Hunter’s hand from her mouth. “What the fuck? He’s killed them all. That fucker killed them.”
“Shhh. You got no shot, Z. You’ll only get their attention.”
“But the boys—”
Hunter shook his head. “Are dead. Isn’t nothin’ we can do for them now, and getting killed won’t help anyone. Keep your head low and your voice lower.”
Zoe nodded before peeking over the rocks in time to see the outlaws stand over each of the Chips and shoot one bullet into each of their heads. Gone were six of the sweetest men she’d ever met.
Just like that.
And for what?
“Oh shit,” she said. A second Jeep pulled up to the group of murderers who stood over the Chips.
“Stay down,” Hunter whispered. He tried to pull Zoe down to safety.
“This is all sorts of wrong.” Zoe shook her head. “If we’re gonna be attacked, I wanna see it coming.”
One of the men pointed toward the hill up where Fletcher and Wendell had escaped.
Zoe reached for Hunter, who looked like he was about to spring into action. “No, Hunter. You can’t—”
“You stay here, Zoe. Keep your head down. I’m going after my dad.”
Before she could say another word, Hunter took off up the hill in a sprint she wasn’t at all sure he would win.
The outlaws spotted him just as he reached the ridge over which Fletcher and Wendell had disappeared. The outlaws fired a bunch of rounds at him, but he managed to scoot around a large outcropping and vanish.
“Run, Hunter,” she whispered, just as one of the Jeeps started up the hill after him. “Keep going. Keep going.”
It wasn’t long after the Jeep vanished over the ridge-line that shots rang through the canyon and echoed through the hot air. Zoe closed her eyes and hoped Fletcher and Wendell got away and that Hunter was well hidden. But, even if Fletcher and Wendell did get away, how long could two ZBs make it out here alone? How long would it take for the zombies to overcome them or the outlaws to find them?
Zoe hunkered down behind the rocks. She clutched her crossbow until the Jeeps returned, leaving the ghostly sound of death blowing through the air.
Still, Zoe waited in hiding, her heart banging inside her chest, her palms sweaty.
Ten slow minutes later, coyotes came to feed on the still warm bodies of the once beautiful men. She wanted to shoot them all—the act of desecrating her friends brought an anger she hadn’t felt since watching her brother get eaten as he screamed for her to help him. She’d never forget the sounds of his screams or his bones being cracked by undead teeth.
Never.
At least the Chips were dead while they were being consumed. That was a small consolation as she impatiently brushed tears from her lashes.
The pack of coyotes would certainly get their fill tonight.
Zoe leaned her back against the rough rocks and tried to block out the sounds of her friends being eaten. She considered going up to the ridge, but thought better of it. The coyotes would smell her and she would be their next meal.
She needed to wait here until dark. Wait and see if the outlaws came back—wait for Hunter or someone else to return to the bus. Waiting was the wisest decision. She knew that even though everything was telling her to make a run for it. She had a gut feeling the outlaws would return.
And they did.
Shortly after dusk, a military transport with enormous spotlights pulled up to the bus. The high-pitched squeal of a microphone filled the air.
“Any of you who wish to see daylight are welcome to grab a seat on this transport. We will feed you and make sure you are well rested. You won’t last long against the zombies and coyotes. You have fifteen minutes, then you’re on your own. If you choose not to come, you will be considered a hostile and treated as such. We will not harm you if you return with us now.”
Zoe wondered if the seven breeders would take them up on it.
“Don’t shoot! Please!” Nancy something cried out. She and her sister, Ingrid, had volunteered to go to California. They hoped they coul
d find their parents still alive somewhere in Nevada. It was a futile hope, but Nancy’s skills as a doctor had been handy on the road.
Not so much for Ingrid. She was the timid, scared-of-her-own-shadow kind of person Zoe had no time for. Zoe wasn’t the least bit surprised they surrendered to a bunch of hoodlums.
“We won’t hurt you, ma’am, but you better hurry along. Them coyotes will be back any time.” He pronounced it Kie-Yoats.
Zoe peeked over the rocks in time to see Nancy and Ingrid run to the transport. To her surprise, the men kindly helped them into the truck.
“Eight more minutes, people. You do not want to be out in the open when the pack of dogs comes through here.”
Pack of dogs?
Ever since the outbreak, domesticated dogs had become feral pack animals roaming the streets in search of food. They were meaner and more desperate than the already wild coyotes, and Zoe had seen more than once what they were capable of doing to a man.
The eight minutes dragged by. Two more women came out of the darkness. When the time was up, the transport turned around and left. Zoe and the bus were left in complete darkness.
In the dark, but not alone.
Zoe knew she couldn’t stay out in the open all night. There was too much blood and death to lure carnivores, and she didn’t want to be exposed should that pack they spoke of came around.
The totaled bus was her only option.
Zoe snuck around to the door and climbed in. She heard someone running toward her, probably thinking, as she did, that the bus was the safest place to spend the night. Wheeling around, she peered through the din to see if she could offer any assistance.
Only, the person didn’t make it.
Out of the depths of the darkness came the pack of feral dogs. The dogs attacked whoever the person was and tore the cries right out of his throat. There was nothing she could do.
Zoe closed the bus door and jammed one of her machetes near the hinges to keep it closed. She crawled down the aisle until she came to the back emergency exit where she leaned back against it, rifle aimed at the entrance. As night unfolded around her, Zoe took a sip of her water and closed her eyes for a moment and considered her limited options.
There were none. For now, she would try to rest and preserve her energy. Her people were still out there somewhere, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she knew if they were dead or alive.
It was going to be a long, sleepless night.
Butcher stared down into the crib of her three-month-old daughter, Egypt, and wondered where Dallas, Roper and Einstein were tonight. Not one hour went by that she didn’t think of one of them, that she didn’t wonder if they were safe, if they were okay. She needed them to be okay. She needed to know they were still out there safe…alive. She was here and they were there, and she couldn’t protect them anymore.
How fucked up was that?
She should be with them. After a year of fighting zombies together and building Angola into a small city, they all agreed it was safer for Egypt if she stayed here. To a one, her new family believed taking an infant on the road was a foolish and dangerous thing to do and that she would be safer within the cement confines of the prison.
Maybe safe was over-rated. Maybe togetherness trumped safety and danger. Maybe—
Butcher caressed Egypt’s chubby cheek with her index finger. She’d never known that such a tiny thing could make such a big impact on her life. So much had changed since the birth of her daughter. Not in a million years had she thought having this baby would separate her from those she loved. If she’d have thought it through…Butcher shook her head. Too late for that now. Egypt was here. She was safe and warm. How in the hell she was going to keep Egypt safe in a world gone to shit was beyond her.
Luke slid his arms around Butcher’s waist and nuzzled her neck. “She amazes me every day. There are times I can’t take my eyes off her.”
Butcher slid her hand up his arm. “I know what you mean. She looks more like you every day. Look at her chin.”
Luke turned Butcher in his arms so they stood face-to-face. “Are you okay? You’ve been so quiet.”
Butcher forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Just tired.” She turned back to Egypt and pulled the blanket up to the baby’s chin. She looked like Luke in every way.
“Missing them, huh?”
Butcher sighed, her eyes not leaving the baby. “Is it that obvious?”
Luke moved to the other side of the crib and caressed his daughter’s head. “Darlin’ they’ve been gone less than two days and in that time, I’d lay money you’ve sighed a thousand times.”
Egypt’s thumb managed to find her mouth. Butcher pulled the blanket down a bit. “I should be with them.”
“You? Don’t you mean we?”
“I said we.” Butcher cocked her head at him. “Didn’t I?”
Luke took her hand. “Doesn’t matter. You—we made the right decision, the only decision.
Egypt is safe here. She can grow up without us worrying about the eaters. It’s not forever. If all goes according to plan, some day it will be safe enough for us to return to California…to find the gang.”
“I know. It’s just—”
“They’re family. I know. I get that.”
Butcher nodded as a tear slid down her nose. “More than any I ever had. It felt like I was being gutted when they drove off without me—us. It felt all wrong, you know? Luke tucked her hair behind her ear and laid his palm on her cheek. “I understand, darlin’. I really do, but we’ll be happy here. Our daughter is safe. Taking an infant on the road would have been careless and irresponsible, not just for her, either. She would put us all at risk. We’ll see them again someday.”
Butcher pressed her cheek into his palm. “Will we? Given all we’ve been through and all we know, do you honestly think we’ll find our way back to them?” Butcher wiped her face with her sleeve. “How bad is it that I can’t imagine my life without those three knuckleheads?”
Luke grinned and opened his arms. “Pretty bad. I was sort of hoping that Egypt and I would be enough.”
Butcher stepped into his embrace and laid her head on his shoulder. “You are. It’s not that I’m not grateful. I am. We’ve managed to make something work here. Our numbers are growing. We have a surplus of food, and the kids even have school. I get all that.”
“But?”
She shrugged. “But a huge piece of me is missing and I don’t know that I’ll ever get it back. I feel hollow.”
Luke kissed her forehead and held her tighter. “Until that happens, will your beautiful daughter and I do?”
Butcher nodded and pulled him closer,. “Of course you will.”
But they both knew she didn’t mean it. She owed her life and the life of her baby to Roper and Dallas and Einstein, and she knew, in the marrow of her bones, that she would not be whole until she was with them again.
“Everyone stay calm,” Dallas said as the transport they were in followed the Jeep. The Fuchs was sandwiched between the Jeep and the tank. “This might not be as bad as it looks.”
“Horseshit, babe, this looks really bad.”
“I’m with Roper on this,” Churchill said. He stared out the back of the transport as dusk settled in. “Are those warehouses?” He asked as they neared warehouses on the outskirts of town.
Dallas nodded. “Looks like one of those warehouse districts near the railroad stations. Looks like that’s where they’ve made camp. I just wish we knew what kind of camp. This little escort service doesn’t feel very friendly. ” She clenched Roper’s hand tighter. “Here’s what we’re going to do. In the event something goes down and we get separated, keep heading west along the rail line. As long as we know to look along the railroad, we have a chance of finding each other again.”
“Railroad,” Roper said. “Good idea.”
Dallas swallowed. “Don’t anyone panic when we get out. We need to stay level headed. We’re outnumbered. Remember that.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, if they want the Fuchs, let’s give it over without bloodshed and be on our way. I don’t want to lose anyone over a vehicle.”
Einstein leaned in between Dallas and Roper and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You think they’re military, Dallas?”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. They didn’t refer to each other in a way that suggests that they are.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Their uniforms are all mix and match, too.”
Four months ago, the United States military had attempted a hostile takeover of Angola because it was a thriving, safe community of survivors. Dallas and her group had not only fought back, they’d gone on the offensive, destroying the military camp on the other side of the river and claiming nearly fifty lives. The President of what was left of the not so United States had paid a visit to Angola, where Dallas was able to extract a promissory note from him stating that gays and lesbians would be afforded equal rights across the board when and if the country could pull out of this military-induced apocalypse.
Dallas had sent him packing back to New England and the Military Zone, a place where hordes of man eaters were currently traveling toward. The man eaters, acting like white blood cells trying to devour the “sickness” that was heterosexuals, clumped together on their way to fresh meat and soon became what the group referred to as a horde.
After she had the President sign the note, Dallas and the others began training the military gays how to fight, reclaim ammo, and basically destroy the zombies threatening them all. So she knew what military looked like and felt like, and this wasn’t that.
As they rolled into the warehouse district, Dallas saw what all they had done to secure the area. She was impressed. It wasn’t Angola by any stretch, but it was pretty damn secure.
Four warehouses had been cordoned off from the rest with a combination of chain link fencing, old cars, commercial dumpsters, and cinderblock. A two-sided cyclone gate swung open, guarded by half a dozen armed men all wearing police riot gear, including helmets. They were well-armed and appeared well-trained, but they weren’t military. She could tell by the lackadaisical manner of guards who were far too cocky in their demeanor.
Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 3): Eat Asphalt Page 2
