Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 3): Eat Asphalt

by Alex Westmore

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” JB said, loud enough for Zoe and Fletcher to hear. “You and your sister are both special. I gotta say, I’m pleased.”

  Dallas bowed low.

  She grabbed the man eater’s ankle chains and pulled so hard, it flew into the air and landed with a thud on its back. Dallas crushed its face in with the heel of her boot. Before the guards could stop her, she had caved in its skull.

  “God damn it!” JB yelled. “What is wrong with these women? You killed another one?”

  Fletcher pulled back. “Damn, that girl has more balls than a golf course lake.”

  “She’s probably waiting for us to make a move.” Zoe joined him. “We have to make a move soon, Fletcher. We can’t sit around waiting for Hunter and Wendell to bring the cavalry. We need to do something.”

  “And we will, but we have to keep our wits about us. There are a lot more people in there than you realize, and once they know there are enemies at their gate, we lose the advantage of a surprise attack.”

  “I’ve done recon. I know how tough it will be, but we’re running out of time.”

  Fletcher nodded. “So my son went back to Angola?”

  “He did. He and Wendell. Where were you? What have you been doing?”

  “There were a dozen or so man eaters coming up the hill after me. I climbed on the highest rock and took them out one at a time. Before I could make it back, it got dark and I still had another pack of eaters to deal with. Long story short, I was up here when I saw Hunter drive away. It didn’t surprise me that you came back. You are not only incredibly loyal, you are extremely impulsive. To be frank, I’m surprised as hell that you haven’t gone in with crossbows blazing yet. How come?”

  Zoe looked back over the edge. Everyone was leaving the caged area. The guards held their tasers at the ready. “I don’t know what the hell is going on down there, and I’m not about to rush in until I have more facts. Our people are still alive. For now, laying low is the best I can do.”

  Fletcher grinned. “Looks like you really did learn something from me after all.”

  She nodded. “I did, but we can’t sit around here waiting for backup that might never come. We don’t know if they’re living on borrowed time or what.”

  “Have you eaten lately?”

  Zoe’s eyebrows knitted together. “You’re kidding, right? Who can think of food at a time like this?”

  Fletcher started for the door to the stairwell. “I need to know you’re thinking clearly. You never want to sneak up on people on an empty stomach. Your stomach growling would be a dead giveaway. Come on. Let’s catch us some dinner and figure out how we’re going to get our people out of that shit hole.”

  Roper tried to focus her one good eye on the beautiful woman standing at the foot of her bed. Roper’s body felt like a bulldozer had run over it. Her ribs burned, her head throbbed, her lip hurt, and trying to focus with her one good eye gave her a headache.

  “Don’t imagine you feel too hot. You took quite a beating.” the woman said. She pulled a stool up next to the bed. “Everyone here calls me Sanchez.”

  “Yeah. You should see the other guy—”

  “I did see the other guy.” Sanchez tucked the sheets under Roper’s thigh. “I have to say, you busted him up pretty good. His nose will never be the same.”

  “Good. I hope to see it again when I kill him.”

  Sanchez looked around her. “Shh. Keep your voice down. There are guards everywhere.”

  Roper closed her eye and nodded. Even doing that hurt. “How much time are they giving me in here?”

  Sanchez looked puzzled. “Not sure I follow.”

  Roper opened her one good eye again. “When are you cutting me loose to go back to the sexual trenches?”

  “I can’t let you go until your face has healed and you can, um...”

  “Perform liked a trained seal?”

  Sanchez looked down at her clipboard a moment before she looked back up. “Darlin’, you aren’t tamable, let alone trainable, but if you want my words of advice—”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m afraid you better.” She leaned over, her face inches from Roper’s ear. “I know what you are, so you might want to heed my advice where this place is concerned.”

  Roper said nothing.

  Sanchez sat up and reached to brush a stray hair off Roper’s forehead. Roper’s hand darted out and grabbed her by the wrist. Roper turned it over and stared down at a tattoo of two pink female signs overlapping. “Oh. You really do.”

  Sanchez pulled her hand from Roper’s. “That’s why I’m allowed to be in here. I have proven my worth but I am every bit the prisoner you are. They don’t want me sexually because I am flawed in their eyes.”

  Roper tried to sit up, but her ribs hurt too much. “Yet, here you are when you could just as easily run.”

  “All is not as it seems.” Sanchez placed her hand on Roper’s chest. “Stop fidgeting. Stop fighting. Just stop. Your ribs are too cracked up and you need to rest. Will you do that for me?”

  “Why, cause we’re sisters from another Mister?”

  “No, because I can help, but first you need to heal. Let me help that process.”

  Roper sighed. “I appreciate you taking care of me, but I can’t stay here.”

  Sanchez pressed her index finger to her lips. “The longer you rest here, the less you have to put up with that shit they do.”

  “You don’t understand. I mean I can’t stay here. In this place. And if I have to chew off my own arm and leave it handcuffed to this bed, that’s what I’ll do.”

  Sanchez looked at Roper. “I just bet you would.”

  “I hope like hell I don’t have to, but I will. I won’t survive being raped, Sanchez. It’s not in my skill set. I can live with one arm. I can’t live without my dignity. Call it a character flaw.”

  “Mind if I call it crazy?”

  Roper nodded. Her energy was beginning to wane and she closed her eyes. “I suppose it looks that way, huh?”

  Sanchez pulled the blanket around Roper’s chin. “Rest, crazy one. I’ll be back later to see if you’re hungry.”

  When Sanchez left, Roper opened her eye and examined the handcuff on her wrist. If she worked hard all night and tore the skin off her hand, she just might be able to break free.

  It was certainly worth the try.

  “Take the plane down in that field.” Butcher pointed out the cockpit window after Hunter told her they were getting close.

  “Okay!” Colby yelled above the engine noise. “Down we go.”

  “Eaters all around that ranch,” Wendell said, pointing to a ranch a few miles east of the warehouse district. “But it’s as good a place as any to land.”

  “Must be ZBs there.”

  Hunter leaned forward. “There are man eaters everywhere out here, Butcher. The area where the tank came from has a high population density of humans who let the eaters live.”

  “And they haven’t cleared the area?”

  “Not that we saw.”

  Wendell nodded. “They’re all over the place, Butcher. There’s food here and they aren’t leaving. It makes me wonder if the leaders inside the warehouses actually want the zombies outside. It certainly makes for a less enticing escape.”

  Butcher watched the twenty or so zombies claw at the windows and siding of the small ranch house. That meant there were people in it. Trapped people. The medic in her felt they ought to help anyone in distress. Some character traits just never go away.

  “Take her down as close to the ranch as possible, Colby. Make sure we have an exit out of here. Multiple if at all possible.”

  “We’re going into that house, aren’t we?”

  Butcher nodded. “Just you and me, Hunter. I won’t put all of us at risk unless I have to.”

  Hunter shook his head. “Let me clean out the exterior before going in. No need for you to put yourself in danger.”

  “Fine. You clean it up. I’ll take
care of those who wander this way.”

  Once they landed, Hunter hopped out, bow drawn, quivers full and ready for killing. The first two zombies each went down with an arrow through the eye. The three at the front door were made truly dead by arrows to the head. He walked around the ranch house shooting zombies in the head until they were all dead.

  Butcher stood on the wing of the plane and buried her machete into four eaters who wandered over to them. When the yard was empty of the zombies’s moaning, Wendell and Colby climbed out of the plane, weapons at the ready.

  “It’s safe to come out,” Butcher yelled at the house.

  They waited but no one came out.

  “Don’t go in,” Wendell said. “Not yet.”

  He pointed to a couple of dead zombies on the ground. “These are fairly new eaters. They’re clearly from around here by the looks of his belt buckle. I’d feel better if we made them come out.”

  Butcher nodded. “Come out, or we’ll just leave you here.”

  “Wait! Wait!”

  They all stopped.

  “That sounds like a kid.”

  “Back up,” Wendell said. “I can’t explain it, but—”

  Shots were fired from the upstairs window and Colby raced to get back to the plane.

  Hunter dove behind a tree and Butcher and Wendell ducked onto the porch and out of the line of fire.

  “They’re shooting at the plane,” Wendell said.

  Too late, Butcher realized they were shooting at Colby. “Colby, run! Hunter, can you get a clean shot?”

  “On it.” He shot five arrows through two windows, but it wasn’t enough. Colby went down with a shot to his leg. He landed face first in the dirt before hobbling to the plane.

  “Butcher?” Wendell said, reaching for her. “There are more.”

  She followed his gaze to a trio of eaters on the other side of the plane hobbling over to where Colby struggled to get to his feet.

  “Colby, no!”

  Thirty feet from the cockpit, he limped toward the plane amid bullets and oncoming eaters.

  “He’s not going to make it,” Wendell said. He swung his rifle to his shoulder and ran out into the open, shooting at the zombies on the other side of the plane.

  “Wendell, get back here,” Butcher ordered.

  Wendell looked like a man possessed as he ran toward the plane, spraying bullets as he went. More bullets thudded around him as he attempted to help his friend.

  Butcher kicked open the front door as she pulled out a Sig Sauer handgun and lead with it as she entered the house taking the stairs two at a time. As she ran up the steps she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she fired twice. One down. She continued up the stairs to the room where the shooters were.

  Butcher came through the door, Sig blazing. Two shooters at the window didn’t have a chance to escape her bullets. Too late, Butcher realized they were kids, teenagers.

  “Fuck.”

  Someone outside screamed.

  As she was racing down the stairs three at a time, she felt the hot lead as it nicked her neck. She emptied the rest of the Sig into the girl who’d shot her.

  Butcher pressed her hand against the wound and ran outside. She watched the plane roll to safety with Colby at the wheel. Three zombies lay dead with arrows in their heads. Wendell stood with his rifle in one hand, pointed at the ground.

  Butcher ran up to Wendell and Hunter. “I heard someone scream,” she said. “What happened?”

  Wendell sighed. “It was Colby.” He stepped up and looked at Butcher’s neck. “What happened to you? You’re bleeding.”

  “Some kid shot me. Is Colby okay?”

  “I lost sight of him when he went to the other side of the plane. Are there any more in there?”

  “Three teenagers.”

  “Any alive?”

  Butcher took her hand off the wound. It was covered with blood. “Nope.”

  “Jesus. We need to get to the medical kit and patch you up.”

  Butcher covered the wound with her bloody hand. “Come on. Let’s get a Band-Aid on this and get to Colby.”

  As they ran passed the truly dead zombies, Butcher noticed there was fresh blood around the mouth of one of them. Hunter slowed long enough to yank his arrows free.

  “Nice shots,” she said even as she felt her blood chill.

  Fresh blood? That wasn’t right, was it?

  “It’s what I do.”

  Butcher started for the door handle of the plane when Colby suddenly flung himself at the cockpit window, growling and moaning. Butcher stumbled backwards, and would have fallen over Hunter if he hadn’t caught her.

  “Oh shit. Oh shit,” Butcher said. She looked at Colby foaming at the mouth, now one of the undead.

  “No. No. No. No,” Wendell said. “Not him. Not Colby.”

  Colby pounded harder against the glass, snarling, and chomping his teeth when Wendell stepped closer.

  They stood there and watched their friend, no longer alive, no longer their friend, clawing and scratching at the window, wanting their flesh, craving their blood.

  “That one over there must have bitten him. That’s why he screamed.” Butcher pointed at the zombie with the bloody mouth. “Yeah. God damn it. God fucking damn it.”

  Hunter pulled out his Buck knife. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Butcher pulled Wendell away. “You don’t need to see this.”

  Wendell bowed his head and refused to move. “I don’t want him to die alone, Butcher. He would do the same for me. I’ll be fine.”

  Butcher nodded and gave Hunter the go ahead.

  Colby didn’t notice Hunter open the cockpit door. Hunter drove the knife into the soft underside of his friend’s chin. He dragged Colby out of the plane to try to keep him from bleeding all over the cockpit. Once Colby was on the ground, Hunter reached in for the medical kit. His hand brushed against some of Colby’s blood.

  “Oh shit, Butcher,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Who’s gonna fly the plane?”

  Roper’s hand was ripped and bloody, but the handcuff was halfway off when Sanchez came back. Roper hid her hand beneath the covers and pretended to be asleep.

  “Where were you folks headed?” Sanchez asked, sitting down next to Roper.

  “Shh. I’m sleeping.”

  Sanchez chuckled. “Sure you are. Look, I know your kind. Your mind hasn’t stopped racing since you got here. Your eyes are constantly searching for a way out. You’d rather die trying to escape than live in chains. I get that.”

  Roper looked away. “I have a lot to live for.”

  Sanchez laid her hand on top of Roper’s. “Then you are one of the luckiest people in the country. Who is it?”

  Roper turned and shook her head.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust me either. What’s a lesbian doing here with these redneck nut bags anyway, right? Well, my wife and I were making our way to Angola State Prison in Louisiana. We heard they’ve actually made it safe. That they have food, clean water, and...” she shook her head and looked down at an invisible spot on the floor. “It sounds too good to be true.”

  Roper said nothing.

  “Then she got sick. Appendicitis. I had no choice but to operate. She didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Sanchez wiped a tear from her cheek. “I was on my own for a few days before I hooked up with a really nice group heading to the Military Zone. We were overcome by those things and probably would have been killed if JB and his men hadn’t helped us out.”

  “So you’re here because of gratitude?”

  Sanchez studied Roper’s puffy face. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go.”

  Roper turned her hand over and held Sanchez’s. “What if I told you that Angola was real and that I can get you there?”

  Sanchez pulled away and looked around before moving closer. “How do you know?”

  Roper whispered, “That’s where we came from
.”

  Sanchez’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “No way.”

  “Way. This group actually started it.”

  “If that’s true, why did you leave?”

  “We made Angola a thriving community which would fight back. We’ll all die if we don’t start eradicating the man eaters in a massive way. Once Angola became successful, we knew it was time to start another safe community. This time in California.”

  “Wow. So it’s not an urban legend?”

  “Not at all. It’s an amazing place. We even have a theater group, school for the kids, and fresh food.”

  “Sounds like heaven.”

  “It’s not. It’s a base for war against these zombies. It’s a successful, thriving community where we train soldiers to be able to kill these fuckers.”

  Sanchez lowered her voice. “I’ve heard JB talk about sending his men there to steal supplies.”

  Roper chuckled. “Let him try. They won’t get within a hundred yards of the gate. There are several thousand people who live there now. He’s got, what, five hundred here?”

  “He’d have more, except for the test.”

  Roper cocked her head so she could a better look at Sanchez’s face. “Why just women? Why doesn’t he test the men, too?”

  Sanchez closed her eyes and shook her head. “He believes all men who lived through the apocalypse were chosen by God to restart the planet. God’s little Noahs is what he calls them.”

  “He’s a crazy ass motherfucker.”

  “Lucky for us, yes, he is. Otherwise, he and his men might be far less accommodating.”

  “Are there gay guys here as well?”

  “I’m sure there are, but no one is out. Before you judge us too quickly, Roper, many of us have no place else to go and we’re tired of running. Tired of always being afraid. Tired of being hungry. In the absence of normalcy, we grabbed onto the one thing that felt safe.”

  Roper looked down at her handcuffed hand beneath the covers. “That’s just not in my nature.”

  Sanchez followed Roper’s eyes to the blood stain spreading through the sheet from Roper’s hand. “I can see that. You know they’ll just tie you to the bed and keep doing it until you’re pregnant.”

  “No they won’t, because I’m never going back to that room. I’d rather be dead than endure that.” Roper looked at Sanchez hard with her good eye. “I’m not going back, Sanchez.”