by David Rogers
“Damn stupid place to put a fucking sidewalk. Or a fucking building.” Happy said as the truck bumped back down across the curb and into the street again.
Candice realized her hands were hurting, and looked down to see she was gripping the seat she was sitting on hard enough to seriously bend the stiff plastic covered cushion out of shape. Her knuckles were white, and throbbing. She tried to ease off, but was afraid to let go entirely. Happy was accelerating again.
Just as she looked back up again, she heard a new sound over the roar of the big engine, crunch and smack of zombies, and the incessant barking of the dog. Like little dit-dit-dits of something hitting metal. Just as she noticed them, the mirror on her side of the truck exploded into shards of broken glass. Some of them skipped off her window, which was rolled up. A crack appeared in it. Then something smacked into the upper corner of the windshield on her side, and almost at the same instant went through the back of the cab above her head, then into the cargo box.
“They’re shooting at us!” she screeched, ducking down in the seat as far as the seatbelt would permit.
“Must be in the right fucking place then.” Happy said. “Hear that you fucking fuckers?” he added, shouting out his window, which was down. “Fuck you, you fucking bastards!”
“Happy, they’ve got guns!”
“Those stupid fuckers can’t stop this fucking thing. No chance.”
“But—”
“See how many fucking zombies there are?” Happy said as bullets — it had to be bullets, Candice knew — continued hitting the truck. A lot of them were ripping into the cargo box behind her. A few holes were opening up in the hood, just a few, as bullets hit it too. And a second one went through the windshield, this time in the middle.
The star-and-pebble pattern Candice had seen when mom’s car had wrecked back in Atlanta appeared across the glass, radiating out from the hole. A hole big enough for her to almost cover with her fist. And when she turned her head, she saw a smaller hole in the back wall of the cab, between the seats.
“They’re going to hit the dog!” she shouted, trying to think of something that Happy might care about. The hole in the back of the cab was only a little above where the dog had been.
“They do and I’ll get pissed.” He reached out again and patted the dog, who was by now getting — incredibly — even more excited. It was barking louder, and sort of whirling back and forth between her seat and Happy’s as it strained to see what was going on.
“Why are they shooting?”
“They’re fucking crazy Candy. Why else would they be shooting people and not zombies? Hell, even I’ve shot some zombies. That’s just what you fucking do when there’s fucking zombies around, you fucking shoot them.”
“So why aren’t they?”
“Candy.” Happy said, looking at her. She gestured frantically at the broken windshield, but he ignored that even as the truck continued plowing through a mass of zombies as big as any Candice could remember from the last few minutes. “You need to lighten the hell up. It’s a new fucking world, remember?”
“Not if we get shot!”
“Yeah, about that, hang on.”
“Oh—” she gulped, then her breath caught as Happy finally — finally — looked back forward to where he was driving and turned the truck over to one side of the road. He got past the worst of the zombies, so it was merely a lot rather than being a near solid mass, then jammed his foot on the brake and spun the wheel around quickly.
The truck definitely skidded, and hard. She felt the seatbelt catch painfully against her shoulder as she was tugged toward Happy’s side of the truck. The vehicle’s rear end was skidding around, accompanied by the loudest succession of thuds and jolts yet as zombies in its way as it came about lost their battle between being where they were and resisting the truck’s mass as it slewed through them.
“Yeah!” Happy said, banging one hand on the dashboard as the skid finished, leaving the truck facing back the way it had come. Candice snapped back upright as the momentum of the sliding turn ceased, then smashed into the door arm first with a painful bump. As she rubbed at it, she heard more bumps, and recognized it instantly as zombies beating on the sides of the truck. Most of them were on Happy’s side, but she saw more staggering closer to hers, only steps away.
“Go!” she blurted.
“Fucking going!” he said, putting his foot down. The truck surged forward with enough force to press her back against the seat for a few moments, as the engine powered it into motion again. Then she ducked as several bullets hit the vehicle’s front.
Chapter Sixteen — Get high, stay low
“Some maniac in a truck is running through the horde out front.” Jessica panted as she pulled herself up into the building’s second floor.
“Thought I heard an engine, a big one.” Austin said. He was in the hallway, standing hunched atop the desk and peering intently into the mirror as he angled it back and forth to scan around outside. There was still gunfire sounding out there, echoing from and across the surrounding buildings; making it sound strange whenever it got back to the hatch so they could hear it.
“Moving truck I think.” Jessica said as she tried to catch her breath. Best shape of her life or not, climbing from the shelf up here wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Especially when she was pumping adrenaline and trying to hurry.
“Is this the chance we’ve been waiting for?” Ed asked.
“Los guardias estarán observando él camion.” Diego said in his odd voice. He was deaf, and his words had the strange and slightly off articulation that Jessica remembered deaf characters on TV using. He was watching everyone wide eyed with quick shifts of his gaze, but it only made him look alarmed; she knew he was actually trying to read lips.
“The guards—” Arcelia started to translate, but Austin cut her off.
“They’re distracted, yeah.” he said. “Got that part.”
“Can we use it?” Wes said.
“Still a risk.”
“Austin, whoever’s out there, there’s only so long before they run over too many zombies and screw the truck up, or a bullet screws it up.” Jessica said.
“Or … asusta them.” Jorge said.
“Scares them.” Arcelia said.
“Sí.”
Austin looked away from the mirror and around at the people clustered around him, then locked eyes with Jessica. He studied her for a long moment, then looked away quickly. “Maybe we can try a few shots at them. Pop up and down, try to score some hits while they’re not watching.”
“Great.” Wes said, drawing his pistol.
“How?” U asked, eyeing the hatch.
“No escaleras.” Jorge said.
“No stairs.” Arcelia said.
“Yeah, which means I probably can’t do any shooting since I don’t think any of you can lift me.”
“Hell bro, I could manage.” U started to say, but Austin shook his head.
“I mean quick up and down. Fast. Take a shot, down. Check the mirror, then try another.”
“You can lift me.” Jessica said, unlimbering the shotgun from her shoulder where she’d slung it for the climb.
“Yeah right.” Ed said. If Austin’s eyes hadn’t been flashing with such misery as he looked at her Jessica would’ve laid into the kid for dismissing her just because she peed sitting down.
“Me.” Diego said in halting and oddly formed English. “Lift me.”
“Can you shoot?” Austin said, turning his head from Jessica and facing Diego.
“Sí.” the man said, bobbing his head. “Muchos zombies.”
“Jessica, give it to him.”
She almost protested, but he looked back to her and she just didn’t have the heart to carry through with it. There was too much pain in his eyes. Holding the shotgun out to Diego, she let him take it while continuing to look at Austin.
“Thank you.” his eyes said.
“Arcelia, translate.” Austin said, then he tapped Dieg
o on the shoulder, who was looking over the weapon in his hands. His fingers were moving across it like he knew what he was doing. “Her. Watch her.” Austin said, pointing at Arcelia. Diego looked at Arcelia, and Austin spoke again.
“I’ll lift you up. When you shoot, I’ll drop you down. If they see you, kick and I’ll drop you. Understand?”
Arcelia translated it, line by line when Austin paused at the end of each statement. She finished by saying “Entender?”
Diego nodded. “Sí, sí.”
Austin offered his hand, and hauled Diego up on the deck when he took it. He looked through the mirror, adjusted it, then motioned for Diego to look. The man peered into it and nodded again, and gripped the shotgun in both hands. His thumb took the safety off as he pressed it against his shoulder and elevated it nearly vertical so the barrel wouldn’t catch on the edge of the hatch.
“Listo.” Diego said.
“Ready.” Arcelia translated.
Austin grasped the man by the waist, took a breath, and lifted him straight up through the opening in the roof. His arms went high enough that Jessica was impressed he could hold the man in place, even though Diego wasn’t a large man, and also because she knew Austin really was the physical beast he looked like. It was still impressive to see it on display though.
Diego’s head and shoulders and torso cleared the hatch. There was a very pregnant moment, as gunfire continued sounding outside and Austin held him in place, then the shotgun went off;. It sounded much louder than the rifles outside since Jessica was only a few feet from it. As soon as Diego shot, Austin lowered him. The big man immediately looked in the mirror.
“Again. Mismo lugar.” Diego said, working the slide to jack another round into the chamber.
“Again, same place.” Arcelia said.
“You got one.” Austin said, putting his hands on Diego’s waist again. “There’s only two now.”
“Two?” Ed said as Austin lifted Diego back up.
“On the one roof.” U said. “If it was only two we’d be vaulting up there and all going at it.”
“Oh.” Ed said before the shotgun went off again.
Diego dropped back through as Austin lowered him.
“They’re down.” Austin said, peering in the mirror. He changed the angle of the mirror quickly, panned it some, then touched Diego’s shoulder and pointed at the mirror. Diego looked, nodded, and readied the shotgun again. Austin moved around to get behind him as he faced where the targets would be, then lifted him a third time.
This time the shotgun went off almost immediately, so quickly Jessica wasn’t sure he’d even gotten a good shot off. But Austin looked through the mirror and nodded. “That’s two down.” he said. “They’re either down or you wounded them.”
“Two … roofs?” Wes asked.
“Yeah. Listen, I think we can rush the roof now.” Austin said. He was panning the mirror around. “I don’t think they’ve really noticed what we’re doing; the others are all still looking down at the street. I’ll throw people up as fast as I can. You take one step, two tops, and fall flat and start shooting. But aimed shots, and stay on your targets. Who’s in?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Let’s do it.”
Jessica blinked at the eagerness in the voices of the three college students. Arcelia was speaking rapidly to Jorge and Diego as Austin stayed busy not looking at Jessica.
“Sí.” Jorge said.
“Cual direccion?” Diego asked, working the shotgun’s slide again.
“They’re in.” Arcelia said. “Me too. Who’s shooting where.”
Austin started assigning directions, pointing to make sure it was clear. Diego gave Jessica back the shotgun and drew his own pistol, while the others produced or patted their own weapons. She stuffed fresh shells into the magazine beneath the barrel, taking them from her harness pockets.
“Ir dos pasos y caer plana, y matarlos.” Arcelia told the two Hispanic men, who nodded.
“Hop up here as fast as you can.” Austin said, bending down and linking his hands together. “Step into my hands, get up there, and start shooting. Whatever you do, keep shooting until they’re down. Everyone understand? Keep shooting until they’re down.”
“Matar a todos.” Arcelia said.
“U, go after them.” Austin said, jerking his head at U who had clearly positioned himself to be where he was going to be second.”
“Hey, why?” the young man protested.
“Because you’re fucking heavy, and it’ll be faster to throw them up first.”
“Yeah, make way for the fast guys.” Wes said, tugging on his friend’s shoulder.
“I can still lay you out you know.” U said unhappily, but he stepped back.
“Same team bro.”
“Focus. U, help push them up here as fast as you can. The faster we get up there, the better, so hustle everyone. Remember, keep shooting. Here we go.” Austin said, looking at Diego. “Ready?”
“Hazlo.” Diego said, lifting his foot into Austin’s hands and tensing.
“Do it.” Arcelia said.
Austin lifted and straightened with a grunt, bringing his hands up sharply; much faster than Jessica believed was possible. Diego seemed to almost fly right through the hatch, at just enough of an angle so he went far enough sideways that he came down on the roof rather than into Austin below the opening. U and Ed were already in motion, U pushing Ed up onto the desk fast enough that it looked like a shove. As Ed put his foot in place, Jessica heard Diego start shooting.
Another heave, and Ed was through. U got Wes up, and Austin tossed him up too. Jorge followed, then Arcelia. Jessica slung the shotgun behind her shoulder, tightened the strap, then held her hands out, one to Austin and the other to U. She had time to just register the instant of pained hesitation in Austin’s eyes before she was face to face with him on the desk as the two men pulled and pushed her up.
“Stay flat.” he said quickly. “Flat, you hear me?”
“You too.” she said, stepping into his hands and putting hers on his shoulders for balance.
Austin threw her up to the roof, and Jessica’s stomach dropped toward her legs. She barely had time to blink, then her feet hit the sticky gravel that covered the roof and she stumbled. Rather than trying to hold her balance, she let herself fall forward and caught herself on her hands. It hurt, the pebbles digging into them, and she felt a flash of pain as her knees hit, but nothing like a real injury.
Rolling away from her left side, Jessica got the shotgun off her shoulder and into her hands. Bits of rock and grit were sticking to her skin. She ignored that like the bumps and scrapes of the landing as she clicked the safety off. Wes was just ahead of her, his pistol out before him in both hands. She rolled to her right, once, twice, before stopping clear of Wes and belly down so she could see and shoot without hitting him.
The other rooftop was empty, as far as she could see. She clicked the safety off her weapon and stretched it out so she could butt it up against the top of her shoulder. There was a grunt from behind her as U came through the hatch and skidded across the pebbles. She ignored that too, focusing on the other roof. On her sector as she knew Austin would call it.
There were guns still going off all around her, everywhere but from ahead it sounded like. Some of them were close, the others further away; some the louder and more distinctive sounds of rifles, and the rest the shorter and sharper barks of pistols. She heard some shouting, a few gasps and grunts, and a couple of sounds that meant someone was in pain.
Seconds went by, and nothing appeared on the other roof. Just as she was about to ask Wes if he’d already gotten everyone, she saw a woman’s head and shoulders appear from behind the parapet. And the barrel of a rifle. She was lifting it up and then down, bringing it to level so she could fire. Jessica didn’t know who she was aiming at, but the opening at the end of the rifle sure looked pretty big as it came around in her direction. She swiveled the shotgun and foun
d her through the ring sight and squeezed the trigger.
The shotgun jolted her shoulder, and it hurt. Not a lot, but it wasn’t as comfortable as when she shot it properly, standing and holding it pressed against the front of her shoulder. Her collarbone ached already, but she ignored that as she jerked the slide back then forward to load the next round. The woman was still there, but the rifle was lying against the top of the parapet. She still had a hand on it, but her other was against her shoulder where Jessica saw blood.
Right as she registered all that, the woman jerked and fell back; blood arcing out in a jet as her body gave up its life in a welter of red. The rifle tumbled over the edge of the roof, falling to the street and zombies below. Jessica heard Wes stop shooting, and very carefully did not look over. A moment later she was glad she hadn’t, because two men rose up from behind the parapet. They had rifles too.
She swung the shotgun to one and fired without stopping to try and aim very closely, trusting the buckshot to spread like it was supposed to and hit him. Working the slide, she fired a second time. He was still there, and nothing had hit him. Jessica stepped hard on a surge of anxious fear as she loaded her next round, trying to stay focused, but he fired before she could get the slide back forward again. A bullet plowed into the gravel right next to her, raising a cloud of rock fragments that peppered her side. Some of them hit her in the cheek, and she winced as she fired again.
This shot did something, something that sent the man to his knees. He was wearing dark clothing, but she was positive he was hurt. Next to her Wes cried out, but she ignored that the same way she was the blood she felt trickling down her face as she jacked another shell into the shotgun’s chamber. As she laid the ring sight across the man she’d wounded, another bullet zinged past her. Close. Really close.
Startled by the displaced air of the round sliding across her neck, she twitched as she shot, and cursed as she darted her eyes to the other man on the opposing roof. He was aiming his rifle at her, right at her, and working the bolt as she found him. Jessica felt cold and rolled herself to the right again. Another bullet hit the pebbles next to her, this time on her left. She came down flat again, worked the slide, and fired back at him.
