44
“Everyone, look alive!” Garret shouts. Last night he assumed command of the group without much of a fight from Kenny. All he had to do was claim it. Kenny glumly moved down to the bottom of their unofficial rank structure after being deposed, lower than the women because he doesn’t have as much use as they do, or as Garret put it, ‘fuckability’.
Kenny is not allowed to arm himself as the others prepare for the inbound caravan their scouts spotted. From the looks of it, all of Rubicon is heading their way. Rocky has been assigned to lead a team of men at the northern side of their camp where travelers once were able to enter the rest area from the highway. They have machine guns and rocket propelled grenades, all they need is the order to fire.
“I want the pass blocked!” Garret commands. “Get whatever will roll under the overpass to slow them down.”
“Their scout will be here in ten minutes,” it is reported.
“No one fire! We want the mother lode. Stay out of sight.”
Here’s my chance, Rocky thinks while getting into position. “Stay low boys,” she tells those under her command. I can get KB outta here.
An expression springs to her mind, ‘Sacrifice the few to save the many’, that she ignores planning to do the opposite. She can’t risk letting the Rubicon convoy through, Garret might talk a big game but like most men he’s likely to back down at the last second. Once the impending chaos begins, she’ll have to be ready to slip away.
All eyes are focused down the long straight stretch of road waiting for sight of the scout. Then it happens a dot is inbound, a jeep coming their way fast. Rocky predicts the driver’s reaction to the blockade that has been set up, she figures he will take one of two courses of action; the first, turn around, and the second simply stop and wait for the rest of his people to catch up. Both outcomes will likely yield the same results, them getting slaughtered before she gets a chance to make her move, or the procession making a detour leaving her with no way to save Killer B. Her course of action turns her stomach but she feels she has no choice.
Acting as if she’s listening to her radio, nodding and confirming orders that aren’t being given, Rocky turns to her man holding a rocket launcher. “Fire!” she orders him.
The RPG is fired as the scout slows in the face of the obstruction. The unsuspecting vehicle is struck low, the blast sends it into the air with a deafening explosion.
Everyone’s ears are ringing, slowly Rocky can hear furious shouts coming from her radio through the high pitched residual wail. “Who the fuck did that?” Garret screams.
“Gerry,” Rocky responds. “He got a little overzealous.”
“But you said…” the man begins to say. She stabs him in the throat to ensure he never breathes a word to anyone. Before the other member of her small squad can react and go for his weapon, Rocky is on top of him. Looking into his eyes she slides the knife into the witness, her hand over his mouth to contain his screams of rage and pain.
“Rocky!” the voice calls over the radio. “I asked if everything is all right over there.”
“Right as rain,” she answers cheerfully. “I’ve got Gerry calmed down now.”
“Lotta good it does us, they’re gonna be out for blood.”
“We’ll be ready, boss,” she consoles him as she strips anything useful from the bodies of her men; a couple of guns and some ammo. She can feel the rumble in the ground, the Rubicon tanks approaching. Things are about to get very bad, the Rubies will see their scout has been obliterated, they’ll charge through guns blazing. She plans on being long gone.
Quick and low she dashes for the hotel only to find a glitch in her plan, Kenny is leaving in the Man’s Ruin bus, it was the only vehicle left in the lot since the others have been spread out to deliver guys and guns to the engagement areas. “I guess we’ll be walking,” she says, not letting the hiccup stop her.
In the halls she can feel the rumble in the ground deepen by the second. She lets herself into her room. “KB, let’s go!”
“Go where?”
“I dunno. Anywhere. Move your ass,” Rocky orders her friend.
“We can’t leave the others,” Killer B says.
“Sure we can,” Rocky replies simply. “Fuck ‘em. You feel that vibration under your feet? That’s the Big Bad Wolf coming to blow our house down.”
“I’m getting the others,” Killer B says adamantly.
Rocky groans. “Just hurry the fuck up.” She laces her skates nice and tight. “And, tell them to pack light!”
Rocky waits for Killer B to return with the wives willing to leave, and then for Killer B to lace up. She would have liked to have been long gone by now, as they head for the back exit of the hotel an explosion rocks the planet. The group stops frightened and wide eyed, all except for Rocky who continues to the door. She rolls on leading them out to a narrow alley that connects the back lot to a side road that runs along the highway. They head south. Rocky has an open invitation from the leader of the Rubies, they just need to get to where ever the large convoy is heading. She doesn’t doubt they will be victorious, perhaps a bit worse for wear. The man that called himself Brass will take them in, and if the other ladies joining them are fortunate enough to survive, them as well.
Rocky had told Killer B to pack light, her faithful friend is wearing a rather large back pack, but Rocky doesn’t say anything. Gunfire is being exchanged behind them, she needs to focus on the road ahead. Armed with the small group’s only weapons; an assault rifle, a pistol, and of course her blade, Rocky takes the point position, she needs to be ready for danger. The war that rages will bring the dead down upon them, she can only hope to have her and Killer B clear when that happens. Since Killer B is on skates, Rocky isn’t too concerned with her well-being, the slower moving wives will be easier pickings and their screams will get her attention.
Within the span of just a few minutes the war ceases, the battle ends with an eerie calm. The tanks rumble onward along the parallel route, they can feel the Rubies catch up and overtake them, soon they will be far ahead. Rocky hopes to see some sign of where they ultimately stop, if not she’ll figure something else out. She always does.
45
The second day of the plague is when Simon Brass located and fired a gun for the first time in his life, today he fires one last round—just not yet.
“Sorry, honey,” Simon sits up suddenly from where he lays beside his wife and daughter’s bodies. He straightens his pajama top. “I feel like I should be doing something,” he says as if explaining to her why he can’t get to sleep. His people are heading into possibly hostile territory, running from the countless super zombies coming up behind them. “Right through here.”
He stands, scratching his chin. He debates what has just popped into his head, an idea that may give his friends an advantage against the dead, or at least reduce the threat a bit. He can create a bubble of safety in the swarm.
“No, honey, I won’t be coming to bed just yet. I have to run out real quick, but I will be joining you. One way or another.”
The grumbling Buick Riviera makes one last commute to the old store. Simon, still in his pajamas and far from the man he’s been portraying for so long, parks alongside the barrier the demolition people had erected and dashes to a small shed that went up that same day. It’s a simple bare plywood structure well weathered and set on pallets so it can be transported easily with a fork truck. All over the dirty panels of beige particle board, painted in red, are the words: CAUTION and EXPLOSIVES, along with warnings against smoking too close to it.
He had never opened it, even long after the town was theirs and it was safe to do so. He saw it as looking at a bullet that might have killed him if it was an inch to the left. He didn’t want to see the implement of his life’s almost demise, those wretched sticks.
He grabs ahold of the padlock that seals the small shed. Keeping with the tradition learned through pop culture he has only the one bullet. If he uses his only round to open t
he door, he won’t have one for himself later. Another debate, he literally weighs the two objects in his hands, the lock and the old fashioned western revolver he found on the second day after the zombies arose. Rough Rider and Peace Maker taught him how to shoot it, they figured they had to after watching him unload into one zombie while he saved them.
“Fuck it,” the man says, letting the lock drop against the door. He places the barrel against it and fires, he looks away expecting a ricochet to come back at him. Wouldn’t that be ironic, he thinks as the lock falls to the ground.
With the door open and not helping to maintain structural integrity, the shed wobbles slightly. Inside, Simon is surprised to find only an old tan leather bag, stiff and rough from age, sitting in the middle of the rickety building. I guess it wouldn’t take much to level the place, he ponders the explosives in the bag. Shifting the open bag he lets the dynamite roll a little and estimates there to be about fifteen sticks, the amount isn’t too important since it’s all he has.
On his way back to his car he is surprised to come face to face with an unexpected tourist in Rubicon. “Kenny, right?” he asks the man as he walks right by him.
“Yeah,” Kenny confirms. “Everyone just up and left you too, huh?”
“I told them to go.” He explains no further. Just heads back to his car. Upon the hood of the black Riv that clicks and pings Simon opens the bag and begins to twist the fuses together making one big bundle.
“Oh. I thought you may have been dethroned like I was,” Kenny says sadly.
“I abdicated,” Simon clarifies. “I was never really a king, more of an inventor…”
“Yup,” Kenny interrupts bringing their dialogue back to his woes. “They ousted me. Garret took over. He’s really gonna put the ‘dick’ in dictator he is.”
“If it makes you feel better, I can tell you his reign will be very short.”
“You know it kind of does…Wait. What do you mean?”
With a sigh, Simon explains. “Even if your people attack my people and happen to survive, there’s about a million zombies of a new, scarier sort on their way here as we speak. They’ll be storming through and continuing southward, devouring everything human in their path.”
“Fuck.” The information weighs heavily on Kenny’s mind. “So, what are you doing here in your jammies?”
“Armor is only necessary should I plan on living, as for what I am doing, hopefully I can buy my people some time. In the very least, I’ll take out as many of the New Breed as I can.”
“Can I have your armor?” Kenny asks sounding worried.
“It wouldn’t fit you even if I had it here with me,” Simon explains. A terrifying screech is heard in the distance, followed by more howls in response. “Besides, we’re out of time.”
“Holy shit! Is that them?”
“Yes.”
Kenny watches Simon slide behind the wheel of his Riv, placing the bag of dynamite right next to him on the bench seat. “I never wanted my group to go the way it did,” he blurts. “I wanted to be liked by my men, keep them loyal.”
“And, the women?”
“Guess I had to choose. I did negotiate them down from rampant rape to…”
“Subjugation?” Simon offers. “Slavery?”
“It seemed the lesser of the two evils. Less unseemly.” The howls are getting closer and more plentiful. He shifts his weight from foot to foot nervously. “Shit, I know it was a dysfunctional family, that’s been my life forever. I was the product of rape, a botched abortion, got left on the doorstop of a fire station, stuck in an orphanage until I turned 18. No one ever wanted me. No one loved me. You must know what that’s like.”
“Because of my size?” Simon asks, scruntching his face as if he doesn’t understand. “No. I have no idea what that’s like. I was my mother’s little underdog. She made damn sure I grew up with a ‘can do’ attitude, and standing up for myself. Then, I became a husband and father, I couldn’t risk making waves with so much at stake, so I learned to take whatever lumps life threw at me. I taught myself to keep going no matter what.”
“You’re stronger than I am, and I’m a regular sized man,” Kenny says, actually meaning it as a compliment.
“I’m also much smarter,” Simon adds. He begins to close his door that creaks slightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a full tank of gas, I wish to cruise around, get the attention of the dead, and blow them to shit.”
“Can I come?”
“You want to die?”
“Yeah, seems like a pretty big job for one guy,” Kenny says as if he’s doing Simon a favor. “We can both go out like heroes. There’s nothing for me in this life anymore, never was. I might as well do some good for once.”
“Hop in.”
“God, a Buick Riviera,” Kenny admires the interior of the old personal luxury sedan. “I love these.”
“I have to ask, why did you never try to join us, Kenny?” Simon inquires as he lets the car roll, he honks the horn intermittently to draw the dead their way.
“You know the school in Jasper?”
“Quite well. We use it for training. When we discovered the place everyone inside was dead.”
“That was mine once,” Kenny admits with deep sorrow. “Well, I was with them.”
The New Breed flood into the parking lot as Simon drives in a big circle. The dead chase them around in the loop as more and more join the train.
“I abandoned them in their time of need,” Kenny continues. He watches the pursuing dead in his side mirror. “I came back to see if anyone had made it. You and your guys were there. The douche that took over my group, Garret, told me how you had forced him out of your society. I fed into his hate and held a grudge myself.”
“You should go to Story Book Land,” Simon says as if such an absurd sounding thing is possible in their current situation. “That’s were my people are heading.”
“Well, let’s do it!” Kenny says, opting for anything but the fate he has just signed up for.
“The man I am at this moment can’t exist any longer. But, if you want to go I can probably find a way to ditch you, keep them on me and give you a brief head start. I hear Kelly Peel is there,” the last part is said to entice the passenger.
“Naw,” Kenny answers after a second of thought. “I think for once in my life I’d like to see something through to the end, even if it is the end of my life.”
“I wish we could have met under different circumstances. I like you.”
The lot is packed tight with the berserk dead. There is hardly any room for Simon to drive. He notices they are avoiding being run over after seeing a few end that way. Carla and Oz showed him the videos of this variety, examples of their capacity for thought. He sees first hand they have at least a grasp of the concept of self-preservation. It won’t help once the dynamite goes off.
The New Breed batter the car as Simon slowly creeps around and around, he guides his car out through the labyrinth of rubble to check the main road and then back again. The driver can see some have already given up on trying to get a piece of the bounty inside the Riv and are heading out of town. He catches a glimpse of the vast legion of them that stretches north heading into his beloved Rubicon.
Heading back through the looping passage to the lot, the dead that had followed now have to squeeze to the sides of the corridor lest they be taken under the wheels. Simon pushes in his car’s lighter and has an odd thought. This is actually the first time he has ever used the thing, probably the only original piece of equipment that hasn’t failed on him over the years. This will also be the last time her ever uses it.
The Riv comes to a rest in the center of the lot, leaving lots of room for the zombies to gather around. The lighter pops, glowing red, Simon uses it to light the fuses that stick up from the beat-up leather bag between the occupants.
“Just relax, Kenny,” Simon says. “This will be quick. We won’t feel a thing.”
The Riv is allowed to remain running
, Simon figures they can die together as well. It idles, grumbling, while the dead move in closer. They avoid the front for now, focusing on the sides and back of the vehicle.
Kenny watches the dead close in as the fuses beside him hiss. The corpses strike the windows and steel panels of the car. Kenny peers over at Simon and can’t believe how serene the man looks, as if the rocking of the car caused by the dead is lulling him to sleep. He wishes he could be so tranquil, so at peace, but he isn’t able to relax. He’s afraid.
Hyperventilating, Kenny stares out at the howling zombies that blot out the light as they batter the vehicle. The glass starts to crack under the barrage of rotten limbs. He fears death but wants the pain of living to just go away. The fuse hisses and Kenny wishes it would hurry up and get there, he’d rather go in a flash than experience what will happen to him should the dead make it through the glass that fractures more and more.
The hissing fuse suddenly ceases, Kenny holds his breath for a split second, and then in an instant he never has to take another.
46
Their legs feel like rubber, their feet burn. Having followed their ears in the most likely direction the caravan could have traveled, the ladies finally make it to a most unlikely destination, Story Book Land. If not for her exhaustion, Killer B would be beaming. Their journey has taken them to the top of a series of overpasses just outside the park’s vast lot, atop the numerous elevated on and off ramps, like a gift bow of asphalt, they have a view of the park. The majestic empire’s tall walls are lit up, lights cut through the darkness to where a lone vehicle has stopped at the entrance of the parking area. From the thick black void come spine tingling shrieks. Inhuman howls.
The doors of the truck open in turn and the riders leave on foot, not pausing to shut their doors their dome light remains on as the two sprint toward the castle. Behind them the shadows boil with movement, the terrifying howls increase. Then from the darkness more figures enter the light, filling the circles of illumination, clearly dead, definitely different. There’s too many to count. The surge of bodies seems to have no end like a raging river, running after the two from the truck.
Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End Page 32
