“What did he say about talking with the off-site team?”
Jo’s face was blank for a moment then she said, “That was Aaron. Kilgore killed him, so I don’t know.”
Just before that happened had been Jones’ breaking point with the Colonel and his brutal tactics. Too bad, the Colonel had Jones knocked out and taken into custody for his “insubordination.” That he didn’t act on and plan his push back on the Colonel sooner was something Jones deeply regretted. Maybe if he had acted sooner, Jo’s friend Aaron would still be alive. That would be one that he took to the grave with him.
“Have you tried to call lately?”
“No,” she said.
“Want to try now?”
She had both wanted to and was afraid to try for fear the call wouldn’t be answered.
“I’ve been putting it off until the battery charged,” she said.
He examined the front of the phone and said, “It’s near a full charge now.”
Jo let out a long breath then put out her hand and said, “Give it to me.”
Once he handed over, she held it as if it were a dangerous object. There was so much tension behind making the call. What if Joel said their mission had failed? What if someone in their team had been killed? And the worst of all, what if they didn’t answer at all?
Gertie spoke from the back seat, “Should you be talking and driving?”
Clara said, “I think it’s safe. We’re the only people on the road.”
“I guess you’re right,” Gertie said.
“Do you know the number?” Jones asked.
“It’s the only one stored in the phone,” Jo said. “It’s not like we have a lot of people to call.”
Jones said, “There is that.”
Jo pressed a couple buttons then moved the phone to her ear and waited. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then she heard a long even tone come across the phone. It was replaced by the sounding of tones as the phone tried to ring through to the other phone.
This went on for nearly a minute as they drove in silence as a sense of anticipation permeated the cab of the truck. The tension built with each second as no one answered on the other end of the line. The ringing stopped, and that was it. There was no message that said to leave a voicemail or anything. The call just cut off.
Jo slowly lowered the phone to the seat and let it drop.
“Maybe they have the phone off?” she asked, but there was a lack of conviction behind her question.
“Want me to check the call history?” Jones asked.
“Sure,” she said.
Jones picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. “No new text messages for quite a few weeks. The last one just said, ‘We are heading north.’ There were no calls for several months, then one just a few weeks ago, and that’s it.”
“We can always try again later,” Jo said, but there was no sense of hope in her voice.
The truck went quiet with only the sound of the engine and the tires on the road filling the cab. Jones put the phone back on the charger and watched the scenery go by. Jo maintained her attention down the road, not looking at anyone, lost in her thoughts.
Two miles later, both Jones and Jo sat forward in their seats. The truck was on a long straightaway, and about half a mile ahead of them, figures were streaming onto the road, pouring out of a wooded area on the north side of the road. The figures were too far away to count, but there were at least two dozen, if not more.
Jo eased on the brake but didn’t stop completely, slowing their progress down to around ten miles per hour. “Let the rest of the convoy know.”
Jones lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth and said, “We have some deaders coming onto the road ahead.”
After he let up on the talk button, Donovan replied, “How many?”
“Two to three dozen with more coming in from the woods,” Jones said.
“What should we do?” Jo asked. “I’m going to bring us to a stop. Then we can--”
A scream from behind them cut her off. When the occupants from the truck turned around, they saw a dozen or more zombies shuffling onto the road heading for the open trailer behind the tractor.
“Oh shit,” Jo said.
There was open space ahead of the truck but no guarantee that more zombies wouldn’t come out of the woods at any moment.
Nick banged on the back window of the truck and yelled, “We have zombies.”
“We know,” Jo and Jones yelled at once.
All three of the unarmed kids in the bed of the truck scooted up against the back of the cab as if it could provide them protection. Madison and Ryan edged toward the tailgate. Clara and Gertie both turned around, and Clara started pushing open the window between the back seat and the cab.
“You kids can slide through the window if you need to come to safety,” Clara said. “We’ll find room for you.”
The kids stayed put in the back, but their eyes were wide as they watched the zombies close on the trailer.
“We’ve got to get them off the people in the trailer,” Jo said as she steered the truck off the road onto the shoulder while cutting the wheel hard. She took the truck into a tight turn, shifting everyone back and forth in the truck. Madison yelped and was tossed into Ryan, and both of them fell into the bed of the truck, sprawled on top of each other.
“Oh my,” Gertie exclaimed from the back seat as she held onto the door handle to keep from being thrown into her sister.
“Sorry about that, Gertie,” Jo said through gritted teeth as she turned the truck around.
“You’re not doing what I think you’re doing?” Jones asked.
“We’ve got to get those zombies away from the trailer,” Jo said she as she straightened the truck out and headed for the zombies headed toward the juicy people on the trailer.
Jones wasn’t sure when he said it, but he shouted out, “Brace for impact.”
The truck didn’t have far to go, but Jo had the accelerator almost to the floor as the zombies came toward the grill of the truck. The creatures were so focused on the tasty people standing free and out in the open that they paid no attention to the oncoming truck.
The first impact knocked one zombie into the air, and the second one slid under the front of the truck. It was impossible not to feel the slight rise of the truck as the wheel ran over the dead thing. It was equally impossible not to have the sickening feeling in your stomach as the tires pulped it.
Zombies careened off the fenders of the truck, spinning uncontrollably, broken limbs flapping around in unnatural ways, still stuck inside the flesh, but just barely. A couple of these deaders ended up rolling off the roadway and down the gentle grade beside it. One ended up on the road, looking like a crushed doll. Most of its limbs were broken, but it still tried to thrust its battered torso along the road, looking more like a worm than anything human.
Jo got most of them, but three made it through and headed toward the trailer. Drew, the man driving the tractor, had slowed it down to almost a stop when Jo made her crazy turn. She had hoped that he would have sped up and moved into the space she had vacated, but he panicked.
When he attempted to floor the accelerator, he accidently slammed on the brakes. The people in the trailer were tossed forward, and two of them tumbled onto the roadway. Their landings look painful even at this low of a speed.
The zombies didn’t seem to care about the injuries of the fallen. This was just fate delivering their meal on wheels a little bit faster. The three zombies diverted from the trailer and went for those people on the road.
The people on the trailer needed time to recover from being tossed around, but a couple of them quickly saw the predicament of their fallen comrades and jumped over the side. Each one of these people had hand weapons. One had a hand ax, and the other one had the mattock they had taken from the farm earlier.
Unfortunately, the trailer hitched forward at the last second, and the man with the ax was knocked off balance mid-jump when the edge of t
he trailer clipped his foot. He tried to correct his body’s movement but wasn’t able to in time and ended up rolling down the road a few feet. That only left the man with a mattock facing off against three zombies and covering two stunned people lying on the road.
“They’re going to get those people,” Nora screamed from the back of the truck, and it was clear that she was near hysterics.
Jo saw that she wasn’t going to be able to get the truck turned around in time and shouted into the back of the truck, “Madison, Ryan, do you have a shot?”
Madison responded, “No. That man is in our way.”
“Get out and get a different angle,” Jo shouted.
“Turn the truck, so I can get a shot off,” Jones said, wrestling to get his rifle aimed out the passenger window. He didn’t have a shot at all because the truck was perpendicular to the road, leaving him facing away from the tractor and the trailer.
By then, Madison and Ryan had untangled themselves. She hopped over one side of the truck while Ryan leaped out the other as the three other teenagers looked on in fear. Madison ran down the side of the road, looking to get a better angle. Ryan tried to get a shot off after only moving a few feet, but the man with the mattock completely blocked any shot. Ryan cursed, dropped his aim, and started down the roadway.
“There are more coming out of the woods,” Clara shouted, pointing at the tree line on the north side of the road.
When Jo looked that way, she saw Donovan’s Jeep speeding toward a dozen or more zombies streaming out of the canopy of darkness.
“There are too many for Donovan to handle on his own,” Jo said.
“The kids will have to handle the zombies near the tractor,” Jones said.
“Dammit,” Jo said as she jammed on the accelerator. The truck groaned in protest as she cut the wheel hard and started down the side of the road with the truck canted at an unnatural angle as it bounced along on the uneven ground.
“Hold on, Gertie,” Clara said as she strained not to slide all the way across the seat.
Madison chugged along, her legs pumping as she tried to get a better firing position. She watched the man with the mattock take in the three zombies headed his way. On the ground behind the man, the other man who had tumbled out of the trailer started to push himself up to all fours, but blood dripped from a wound on his head.
The man with the mattock danced to his left three steps, drew the mattock back, and slammed it into the zombie’s side. The blade dug deep and a dark ooze slipped around the blade.
Madison noted the man’s mistake. He didn’t go for the head, and now he was in trouble. The blade of the mattock wasn’t coming free, no matter how hard the man yanked on it. He was stuck dragging the damn dead thing around as he tried to free the mattock, while the second zombie went after him.
The third zombie ignored that struggle and focused on the easy pickings lying on the ground. Someone on the trailer screamed for the man to get up, but he was just too stunned.
She finally made it to what she considered to be a safe shooting spot and dropped to one knee, just like Mr. Schultz had trained her. She brought her rifle up and aimed for the second zombie. Just as she locked in on the creature, the man with the mattock yanked hard on the mattock but this time in the wrong direction. The motion flung the first zombie into the second zombie, knocking it off its feet.
The hard tug freed the mattock, but the man still had a hungry zombie bearing down on him. He back-stepped and brought the mattock up above his head and, with a loud yell, slammed it onto the zombie’s head, nearly chopping the front half of it entirely off.
While this happened, the third zombie had closed the distance on the downed man to just two steps. Madison tried to target it, but she was on a direct line with the people left in the trailer. If she missed, she would surely hit one of them.
“Shit,” she yelled as she jumped to her feet and started on an off-angle path toward the trailer.
Again, someone yelled at the downed man to get up, but he was clearly out of it. He was on all fours, staring down at the road, trying to make sense of the world.
One of the trailer’s passengers reared back and tossed a piece of lumber at the third zombie, but it just glanced off the creature’s shoulder, barely slowing it.
Things were moving too fast for Madison. She was just a kid, despite the circumstances and all the action she had seen. She had done a gutsy thing back at the Manor when she had shot two soldiers to turn the tide of the rebellion, but they had their backs turned to her. This situation was chaotic, with things happening in every direction. It was hard to focus on the one most important thing.
As Madison dropped to one knee again, she heard a gunshot and looked to see Ryan standing just a few feet away from the second zombie and blowing its brains out. By the time she looked back, it was too late; that damned third zombie had descended onto the man and bitten deep into his back just above the shoulder blade.
The man’s head jerked up, and his back bent away from the zombie’s teeth as he let out a blood curdling scream. Those looking on saw a burst of blood spray from the wound as the zombie jerked its head back and chewed on a mouthful of flesh.
All motion in that direct vicinity stopped for a moment. Collectively, everyone knew what that bite meant. They also knew the man’s scream was the scream of the doomed. He knew it, too.
Still, the man with the mattock was having none of it. He rushed across the road and buried his mattock into the zombie’s back, cursing loudly at the zombie as he did it. This time, that tact worked as he was able to tug the zombie away from his fallen friend and pull the dead thing to the pavement.
When he got the zombie off his friend, he stuck a foot onto the zombie, holding it down, and pulled the mattock free. After that, he made quick work of the zombie, bashing its head to bits. With each hit, the man yelled a curse as tears streamed down his face.
Madison felt the man’s pain with each blow of the mattock. She had failed, and the man lying on the road was lost because she hadn’t acted in time. She blinked away tears.
A hail of gunshots sounded down the roadway, and when she looked that way, she saw Jones shooting from his window on the truck at the zombies climbing onto the roadway. Jo stood beside the truck, blasting into the scrum of zombies. More gunshots sounded as Donovan and his men joined the fray.
It was like an old fashioned shooting gallery. Unlike human enemies who would avoid being shot, the zombies made it easy, shuffling up the slight grade onto the roadway, oblivious to the danger ahead. Their hunger didn’t care. It only wanted what it wanted - flesh.
Together, Donovan and Jo’s group made short work of the zombies that had shambled onto the roadway. From Madison’s perspective, it looked like there were no more on their way, but she knew the damage had been done.
Chapter 25
Stand-Off
Two shots were fired, echoing in the forest, and a single shot answered. Birds panicked and flew out of the trees and up into the sky, winging in dozens of different directions. Del thought they were smart to get the hell out of Dodge.
Instead, these dumb humans were heading toward the sounds of the gunshots. It made him really doubt his intelligence and sanity.
Mason put up a clenched fist, and Clayton and Del held up. They stood among a tight stand of trees. The gunshots had come from ahead of them as they crept forward slowly.
They had ditched the two ATV’s a mile back, not wanting the sounds of the engines to give away their position as they tried to sneak up on whatever was going on. They had also sent Ron and Denny back to the caravan. That had taken some convincing. Going back meant walking, and it was at least three miles. To say that Ron and Denny were pissed off was an understatement. They were both livid, and the argument nearly spun out of control, but Del talked the two men down.
That was in the past now. Time to focus, Del thought. There were men with guns ahead.
And he was heading towards them. How fucking stupid was that?
He wondered if this insanity would ever end and he would be reunited with his son. Just to pass the time. Maybe to play a game or just relax. That would be nice.
That is if his son was still alive, but he didn’t let his mind go there. In fact, he couldn’t go there. Without his son hanging out there as his hope for a better day, Del wasn’t certain how he would keep going, so he pushed that down and out of sight.
But the old adage, there’s no rest for the wicked echoed in his mind.
Another shot was fired but no more.
Mason stepped back near Del and leaned close to his ear. He whispered, “I saw two guys up ahead. They both were focused on something ahead of them.”
“What is it?” Del whispered back.
Mason shifted his head, looking forward for a few seconds, then he pulled it back. “Can’t tell. Let’s see what Clayton has to say when he gets back.”
Clayton had broken off from their twosome to scout the woods off to the right of where Del and Mason were. He had taken a wide arc through the trees. As Clayton moved away, Del couldn’t help but admire how well Clayton moved, like a jungle cat.
He reflected that was probably why he drove trucks and why Clayton was on the front lines in Iraq. At the time, he was glad to be the awkward one. As they listened to the firefight, he wished he had all the battle skills that Clayton possessed. Then again, he had learned a thing or two after the world fell.
Clayton hit a set point that he had held in his mind then he made a hard cut and was heading back toward the action. As he moved forward, a gunshot sounded, and he froze. Two more sounded in response. To Clayton, it was like someone was having a conversation -- only with bullets.
Silence fell upon the woods, and after ten more seconds, he moved forward again slow walking from tree-to-tree, all the while keeping a vigil on where the shots had come from. He counted off fifteen trees as he passed them and decided it was time to make an assessment.
From behind a gnarled oak tree, he glanced ahead. At first, he saw only leaves and tree trunks. He hated the thought of moving further ahead because he had no idea was what he was getting into. The fear of the unknown is man’s greatest fear, he thought. Well, besides snakes biting your junk.
The Deadland Chronicles (Book 2): The Undead Horde Page 15
