The Preston Six Collection: (Book 1, 2 and 3)

by Ryan, Matt

  “Hang in there,” he said.

  The engine roared and the broken exhaust pipe made it impossible to even hear his own words.

  After two hours of riding, the sun set to his right. Harris clicked on the light and it flickered on. Sighing in relief, he berated himself for not checking to see if it worked in the first place.

  The cold air on his face made a sharp contrast to the hot motor, pulsing heat against his legs. He slowed down, as darkness crept over the road. The headlight shone a cone of light straight ahead for a hundred feet. A zombie appeared in his head lights. He veered and dodged it with ease. Two cars came next, blocking the road. He slowed down and drove onto the dirt to get around. He gritted his teeth and twisted the throttle. The motorcycle lunged forward and blasted its exhaust to the dark world around him.

  He saw a town ahead and sighed, zombies hung around towns. He couldn’t take any detours, he had to risk it.

  They must have heard him coming, a sound they hadn’t heard in a long time, roaring into their town. Their curiosity of a meal would draw them in.

  A building on each side of the road bounced into sight as his headlight bobbed on the terrible road. With each bob of the light, he strained to see the dark street ahead, then he saw them. A hundred pairs of eyes reflecting into his headlight, filling the road. It didn’t surprise him. He stood on the pegs to get a look over their heads. They were only twenty deep. He would have one chance at getting through them.

  He twisted the throttle and the motor roared to his command. Fifty feet in front of the zombie horde moving toward him, he picked his line and let go of the handlebars. Coasting at sixty miles an hour, he pulled out his two guns and shot the ones in his line. Zombies fell to his gunshots, another crashed off the front, the motorcycle shook and he grabbed the handlebars with one hand to keep it from crashing in the middle of the horde.

  With one hand on the throttle and one shooting a line in front of him he emerged on the back side of the horde. He glanced back at the chasing mob, stumbling after him. He hoped he didn’t run into another town anytime soon.

  He stuffed his guns back into their holsters and leaned forward, putting his chest against the gas tank.

  “Good job, girl. Hang in there, I need you.”

  The cold night air blew against his chest and arms. His fingers became numb and he hung them low, close to the motor to thaw out. He shivered, wearing only a shirt for warmth, but there was no option for stopping and getting a jacket. No stores to shop, no malls to cruise.

  He drove through the night, trying to keep a steady speed. Trees and large pot holes were his biggest concern between towns.

  He welcomed the blue hue of the rising sun. That was the constant, on every version of this planet—a sunrise and sunset. He welcomed the warmth, if only by a degree at first, but more than that, he welcomed the light. He could be warm later. With the path illuminated in front of him, he twisted the throttle. His bike sputtered at first, then hit its power band, doubling its speed.

  “I bet you’re thirsty,” he said rubbing the side of the gas tank.

  Slowing down, Harris stopped on the side of the road, unstrapped a gas can from the back of the bike, and filled the tank. It felt good to stretch his legs and get off the vibrating seat for a minute. His hands were numb from the cold and gripping the handlebars for so many hours.

  Looking at his Panavice, “You’ve already made it halfway,” he said, talking to the motorcycle.

  A bullet hit his shoulder and the loud bang sent him to the ground. He felt his wound, only a graze, but he didn’t have time for a graze or for whoever shot him. He scolded himself for not seeing the man in the farm house across the street. He also noticed the weeds around the van parked out front were stomped down. He might have two people to deal with. Harris waited for the second shot. The first flash came from the second floor, but he wasn’t sure if it was the middle window, or left.

  With gun in hand he timed his counter attack.

  Another shot, this one hit his motorcycle. He jumped and shot into the left window, glass shattered and the man fell through the window and onto the ground. Harris moved behind the motorcycle, sitting against the back wheel.

  “We just wanted the bike,” a man yelled. Sounded close, maybe behind the van.

  “I can’t do that, just let me ride out of here and no one gets hurt.”

  A minute long pause before he heard the cocking of a shotgun, much closer than the house. Looking between the spokes of the motorcycle’s back wheel, he saw feet under the van.

  He didn’t have time for this.

  The bike gave him very little protection. He jumped up, running toward the van, guns raised. Anything that moved was going to die.

  Rounding the van, he spotted a man with his back to him pointing the shotgun past the front of the van.

  “Drop it,” he yelled.

  The man, whether on purpose or not, jumped from shock and dropped the shotgun. He looked like a zombie with his sunken face, dirty clothes, and rotten teeth. Harris could smell him ten feet away. Fear filled the man’s eyes and he held out his hands.

  “Please sir, he just wanted your bike—did you kill him?” The man covered his mouth, as he looked at the man laying in the weed covered front yard.

  “Are you alone?” Harris asked, looking around.

  “No, my family’s in the van,” the man replied.

  “Anyone else in that house?”

  “Just my brother.” He eyed the man’s body surrounded by weeds, and spit on the ground. “He kicked me out a month ago.”

  “And you live in this van?”

  “We can’t go anywhere with them things. So we hide here, hunt anything that comes by.”

  “Like me?”

  “Sometimes.” He looked at the ground.

  “Open the back door.” Harris pointed to the back of the van.

  The man walked to the back doors. “Don’t kill us, please.” Tears welled in his eyes.

  Harris suppressed a sigh, seeing a grown man embarrass himself in such a way. “Just open the door already.”

  The slim man staggered to the van door and opened it. A pungent smell hit Harris and he covered his mouth and nose with his free hand. A young girl appeared from the dark innards of the van. The sun light shone on her skeletal face. She shielded her eyes from the sun, gazing at him with blank eyes.

  “She’s all I got, her mom died last year,” the man whimpered.

  Harris gripped the trigger on his gun and pointed it at the man. It would be a pity kill, the girl would be harder to shoot, but wasn’t it crueler to let them live?

  The man fell to his knees. “Please sir, I’m all she’s got. Look, you killed my brother, I can go into the house and get you food, take anything you want.”

  Harris sighed and took his finger off the trigger, he should apologize to the man for letting him live. If he didn’t have that daughter. . . .

  “Take your daughter and protect her, keep her happy. I’ll be coming back to make sure of it. Maybe tomorrow or maybe a year from now, and if she isn’t the happiest kid in this sick world, I won’t show mercy next time.”

  The man got to his feet, tears streaming down his face. “Oh, thank you, and I will. I will, I promise.” He picked up his daughter and ran toward the house.

  Harris stuffed his gun into his holster and walked over to the shotgun. Cocked it and checked the chamber, empty. He tossed it back on the ground and walked to his motorcycle.

  Black oil dripped from the side of the motor case, coming from a hole made by the man in the house. If the bullet went into the motor, it’d be over. He pressed the start button and the motor roared to life with its deafening sound. Oil spit out from the hole like black blood, but it ran. Injured, but not killed.

  He brought one can of oil with him. He’d probably have to stop and find more, if it kept leaking like that. It was only a matter of time until it bled out and died. The thought of letting such a machine die on the side of the road made
him glance back at the house, contemplating the mercy he showed. He hopped on the motorcycle instead.

  Harris leaned in and rubbed his fingers on the side of the smooth tank. “I know you’re hurt girl, but keep it together for a bit longer.” He twisted the throttle, launching the bike down the road, with its thundering exhaust.

  He rode through the day, stopping at a gas station.

  Filling the gas tank, he also poured oil into the engine. The overheat light appeared early in the morning, and then the midday sun made it worse. But he pushed the machine through the day and it held together for him. He welcomed the night, it froze him, but the bike stayed cool. The bike is what mattered.

  He stopped early in the morning, still dark, and put the last of the fuel in the bike. Sitting on the seat, he petted the gas tank. She was tougher than he could have ever hoped for. It hurt his heart to ride her so hard, but the kids needed him. “Only fifty miles left.”

  He slid his Panavice into his pocket. A zombie walked up behind him, but the broken muffler roared to life, sending the motorcycle down the road. He heard a metal clicking sound in the engine, she didn’t have much longer. He sighed, a motorized vehicle like this should be displayed in a museum, not ridden to death.

  “Fifty miles girl, if you give that to me, I promise to take care of you.”

  IN THE DARK NIGHT, POLY stared at the back of the house they parked behind. She glanced out the left window, the stone was in that direction, walking distance. They all agreed to wait until light to make the final leg. She fidgeted in her seat.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” Poly said.

  Lucas looked like he agreed, but reminded them, “It’s our way out, our only way out.”

  “I’ve been thinking of the same thing,” Julie added. “This is the closest stone. If Travis told them where we went, they’d be waiting for us to arrive here.”

  Poly yanked on her seatbelt. She wanted to leave Ryjack as much as the rest of them, but she wanted to live long enough to see it happen.

  “We should do some recon, see where the stone is first,” Hank said.

  “It could be at the bottom of a prison or something,” Julie said.

  Lucas tossed up his arms, “Fine, as soon as daylight comes, we’ll go check it out.”

  She didn’t like the group siding with her over Lucas, but sometimes he was wrong. Poly turned her attention to the play structure, with swings and a spiral slide making a new home for weeds and grass. Lucas had one just like it behind his house. His dad spent a few days building it and invited everyone over to play around on it. Lucas pushed her in a swing just like that.

  She cracked the window open and felt the cold morning air creep into the SUV and thought about trying out the swing set. How long had it been since she swung? She squinted her eyes and leaned her ear close to the opening in the window.

  She jerked up in her seat.

  “What?” Lucas asked.

  “You hear that?”

  “Is that a motorcycle?” Julie asked.

  Lucas rolled his window down. “I think it is and it’s getting closer.”

  “We should move.” Julie said.

  “We’re behind this house, they’d never see us unless they came back here,” Lucas said.

  Poly held a dagger in her hand as the sound grew louder, maybe a street or two away. The sound roared onto the street in front of them, echoing through the whole valley, then silence.

  “They stopped,” Julie leaned forward between the two front seats.

  “Maybe they saw us,” Hank said.

  Lucas grabbed his bow and opened the driver’s side door. “Poly, you throw, I’ll bow. When I give the word.”

  Poly nodded and held her throwing daggers in her hand. She creaked open her door, shaking her head at the situation. Grinners were predictable to an extent, but they didn’t ride motorcycles. Whoever parked in front had to be a human. Humans were unpredictable.

  Her fears jumped, as a man wearing all black walked next to the house, holding something in his hands.

  “It’s one of MM’s guys.” Julie pointed out the front window.

  Poly couldn’t make out the face in the twilight, but saw the clothes; nothing on Ryjack looked like that.

  “Go,” Lucas said. He flipped the bright lights on.

  Poly jumped outside the car and threw her first knife at the man, she heard the twang of Lucas’s bow and saw his arrow flying toward the man.

  The man stiffened his posture and moved his hips, dodging her knife and at the same time Lucas’s arrow. Poly’s heart raced and her adrenaline pumped, as she reared back with a knife in her hand, looking for a head shot . . . until she saw his face.

  “Harris,” she yelled, running across the thick weeds toward him.

  He smiled warmly, “Poly.”

  She jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. He smelled of gas and oil. “I made him promise not to hurt you,” Poly said, pulling back and poking him in the chest.

  “I thank you for that, and I owe you one. Lucas, Julie, Hank, so glad you guys are okay,” Harris said, shaking their hands.

  “How did you get away from Travis? I didn’t think he’d ever let you go,” Julie asked.

  “We came to an agreement,” Harris said.

  Poly didn’t care about the why, she couldn’t stop smiling. With Harris, she felt they had a better chance at getting off of Ryjack and getting Joey back.

  “Sorry for shooting at you,” Lucas said.

  “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t,” Harris said.

  Lucas smiled and slung his bow over his back.

  “How did you find us?” Julie asked.

  “Almadon placed a tracker mod on your Pana.”

  Julie looked at her Panavice, nodding her head.

  He continued. “MM has a trap set up for you at the Alius stone.”

  “Oh great,” Lucas said.

  Poly looked at Lucas with her I-told-you-so face.

  “What do we do?” Hank asked.

  “It’s only a few miles from here, a couple of us should scout it out and see what they have planned for us.”

  “Why can’t we go to the New Vegas stone, or some other one?” Lucas asked.

  “We are on the east coast and those are both on the west coast. We travel that far and we’ll be pushing our luck.” Harris paused and Lucas looked at the ground.

  “I’ll go scout it out,” Poly said. She’d wanted to get a look at the stone from the second they arrived late last night.

  “Okay, you three stay here. The less, the better,” Harris said.

  “You sure, Poly?” Hank asked.

  Poly looked at the worry in his face. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  Hank put his hands in his pockets and nodded.

  “Early morning is the best time, the zombies get confused about the rising sun,” Harris said.

  “Let me grab my sword.” Poly ran to the SUV, returning with it on her back.

  Harris eyed the sword for a second and then studied his Panavice. “This way.”

  She walked with him behind the houses. Trees scattered the backyards, seedlings sprouting up. She saw the end of the house line and where the forest took over, with dark oak trees and thick foliage. She didn’t like being confined to small areas, it was harder to stab.

  “If we run across any zombies—”

  “Grinners,” Poly corrected. “They grin at you when attacking. It’s a name we picked up on. Zombies just seemed too silly to be saying all the time.”

  Harris stared at her. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “But if we do run across any, we need to be silent. Do you have a blade I can borrow?”

  “And here I thought you were an ‘all gun’ kind of guy,” Poly said, handing him one of her daggers.

  Harris held it in his hand, turning it. “Thank you.” He pointed to the sword on her back. “Where’d you get that?”

  Poly pulled the sword out of its scabbard. “A gift from Travis.” She admired the s
hiny blade for a second and then guided it back into its sheath.

  “Those weapons are like his kids—not something he’d part with lightly.”

  “He offered it up, but I still prefer my throwing knives.”

  Harris nodded. “I’m sorry for all this, you know?”

  “You suffered as much as us, if not more, from the hands of MM.” Poly thought of the few people she’d seen killed, each one had been a close friend of his and she got hints there were many more killed before. How could he stay so solid when there was so much death around him? Joey being taken nearly broke her, but if any of her friends were killed, she doubted she would recover.

  They walked into the forest. Poly watched her warm breath puff out in the cold air.

  “I must say, I’m impressed with you all,” Harris said. “Staying alive in a place like this takes intelligence and cunning in spades.”

  Poly thought about the night in the back of the truck and it sent chills down her back. “It hasn’t—”

  Harris held up his finger and stopped walking. He pointed in front of her, she didn’t see it at first, but then caught movement, two hundred feet away. She moved her head left and right, trying to see around the foliage.

  “I’ll take this one,” Harris said. “Watch my back.”

  Poly stayed close to Harris, glancing over her shoulder. The thing spotted Harris right before he ended it with her dagger.

  Retrieving the blade, Harris wiped it on the grinner’s jacket. “It’s a shame what happened to this planet.”

  Poly nodded, gazing at the grinner on the ground. She couldn’t get used to killing them. Even with its mangled face and partially removed torso, she saw a human, somewhere deep inside.

  “Do you think they remember anything, you know, about themselves?” Poly asked.

  “No, MM actually took some to their bunker in LA and experimented on them, but the only part of their brain that is active is a small region, allowing for animal instincts only.”

  THEY’D WALKED THROUGH THE FOREST, jumped over a stream, climbed over a hill of boulders, and come to the edge of the forest.