Mikki zipped up her jacket and snapped the neck shut, quickly put on her helmet, and grabbed one of the Mini Uzis. Unbuckling her seat belt, she turned around and leaned out the window, firing at the nearest biker. His midsection blew apart in smoke and flame. Zeke wasn’t kidding about these antipersonnel rounds. If there was a heaven, he must be lookin’ down, smilin’ right now. That thought, along with the utter mayhem she was creating, made Mikki smile.
“You do know the movie Armageddon was about a meteor, dontcha Mikki?”
“Don’t ruin the moment, Floyd!” She blew away the two closest bike riders on her side as they shot into the cab. She only used short bursts, but the bikers erupted in a cloud of flame and blood. The three remaining dune buggies turned tail and headed back.
“Oh, no you don’t!” shouted Mikki. She jumped back into the cab, grabbed the wheel, hit the brake and almost managed to spin the truck completely around. She hit the gas and took off after them. “You’re turn Floyd,” she said, passing him the Uzi.
Floyd rolled down his window, lined up the helmet of the closest driver and fired. The buggy veered off to the right and jumped the guard rail. Must be pretty hard to steer without a head.
The others were scared to death now. They opened up the throttles and zigzagged around to avoid being hit. It didn’t quite work. Soon another driver’s head turned into a roman candle. Floyd was as greatly appreciative of Zeke’s special ammunition as Mikki was.
Mikki skidded to a stop as the last dune buggy made it back behind the barricade. Mikki opened the door, Stood up outside the cab and yelled, “That’s right! Run you mothers!” A puff of smoke came from the watchtower and a bullet sent Mikki flying back into the cab.
“Sniper in the tower,” Floyd remarked.
“No shit, Sherlock! Really? I hadn’t noticed!” Mikki answered as she checked herself for damage. “Ouch! Goddammit, Floyd! Why does everybody have to shoot me in the tits!”
“Well, they do make for a large target. Oh, crap, I just sneezed inside my helmet! Yuck!”
Floyd had his door open, his hunting rifle nestled into the arch where the door joined the cab. He was hunkered down as much as he could, protected by the bulletproof windshield and the bulletproof door window. He was completely focused on the tower.
“There you are. Hello!” He squeezed the trigger carefully, sending the copper-jacketed bullet on its way. As he watched through the scope, he saw the sniper’s head explode in a mist of blood and gore. “And goodbye!”
“Oh, you have got to be shittin’ me!” Mikki cried, peering through the binoculars.
Four more dune buggies emerged from the barricade. These, however, were better armored with steel plates welded to the frame. No open tube construction on these. Each driver had a passenger with a machine gun in the back. The oncoming raiders took turns firing at Floyd and Mikki, but the bullets bounced off the truck.
“Goddammit! Stop shootin’ at my truck!” Floyd screamed.
“Relax, Floyd. Truck’s bulletproof. You said so yourself.”
“The windows are bulletproof. The truck ain’t! I built it to protect against zombies, not a bunch of G.I. Joe rejects!”
“Then you better start shootin’ back.” Mikki handed Floyd his shotgun, loaded with slugs, along with a couple of extra mags. Looking through the binoculars, Mikki said, “Shit, Floyd, we are way beyond Thunderdome, now.”
Floyd didn’t need binoculars to see what she was talking about. It was some kind of big-ass snowplow with a huge nose. Additional armor plating had been welded onto the monstrosity, including over the windshield. Only two small slits about three inches high and three feet wide allowed the driver and passenger to see out. That made for an extremely tough shot. To make matters worse, it had no tires. It ran on metal tracks, so nothing they had on hand could disable it.
Floyd fired a couple of slugs at the dune buggies to make them keep their distance. They drove around in circles taking potshots at Floyd’s truck without getting too close, being more than content to let their big brother do the dirty work. The plow headed straight at them up the middle of the road.
A spray of bullets hit the front grill of Floyd’s truck, ran across the windshield and blew off the outside rearview mirror on the passenger side. Floyd cursed up a blue streak as a burst of steam started blowing out from under his hood.
“You handle the soft targets, Floyd. I got the big guy.”
“Right!”
Floyd kept peppering the dune buggies. They sped around the asphalt like mosquitoes, making it hard to aim. But Floyd took his time. He lined up every shot. If he didn’t hit one of the occupants, he at least hit the vehicle somewhere and that was enough to convince the drivers to keep their distance. He must have hit a gas tank, because one of them blew up from the rear. That didn’t keep the Snowplow-From-Hell away, though.
Mikki loaded up Bonnie with anti-armor rounds. She had plenty from the nuke plant, but there weren’t many left in her mags, so she aimed carefully. Fortunately, with the big brute barreling straight down on them, she had an easier target. She squeezed off a round.
The bullet bounced off the inside edge of the driver’s side slit, smashed through the windshield and went bouncing through the cab. It didn’t hit anyone inside, but it spooked and infuriated the driver, who up until now was convinced he was safe. The plow began swerving right and left in a serpentine pattern, slowing its approach, but not stopping.
“Perfect!” Mikki smiled. “Floyd! Try to put a slug between them slits. Just keep him swerving!”
Floyd sent a slug bouncing of the armor only inches away from the sweet spot. The driver heard it, though, as the projectile slammed into the armor too close for comfort. He continued to dodge left and right with the huge vehicle.
Mikki grabbed one of the RPG cases. It wasn’t hard to figure out. A small sticker on the side said, “Turn knob and press button.” One end cap popped open, a sight popped out to the left, and a pistol grip dropped from the bottom. She lined up her shot and waited for the plow to swerve to her right. As soon as it did, she led the target and fired at the front of the track.
The plow, however, swerved back to Mikki’s left as the rocket shot ahead. At first, Mikki thought she missed, and quickly grabbed the other RPG case. By the time she raised her head again, however, the missile flew in between the front of the rack she had aimed for and hit the inside track. There was a tremendous explosion as the track blew apart. Flying metal shrapnel and debris wiped out the two nearest dune buggies. The last one made a hasty retreat, as the plow sat there motionless, burning.
“Yeehaw!” Mikki screamed. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Come and get it!” She aimed through the scope of the second RPG and fired at a weak spot in the barricade between two piles of junk cars. She blew a hole in it wide enough to drive through and the explosion caused the rest of the barricade to topple over. Dropping the empty launchers outside, she jumped back into the driver seat and fastened her seat belt.
“Buckle up, Floyd! Gonna be a bumpy ride!”
“You just won’t quit until you blow us up, too, will you?” he said, quickly following her advice.
The truck was still running, despite the steam pouring out of the front grill. Mikki slammed her door shut, hit the button to raise the window and floored it. She drove right through the flaming wreckage of the barricade, bounced over a couple of raiders and looked for a way out on the other side as bullets drilled the truck’s tires and bounced off the windows. Floyd wasn’t much of a religious man, but he prayed like mad that they would keep shooting at the windows and a bullet wouldn’t hit one of the full gasoline cans in the truck bed. That really would have ruined his day.
Mikki saw her chance. There was a wall of sorts about eight feet high at the back of the compound. A makeshift ramp allowed guards to reach the top of the wall to patrol. She drove the truck right up the ramp and went sailing over the wall. Neither Floyd nor Mikki knew if the road continued past the wall or if they woul
d find themselves dropping into a gorge.
Ah, well, thought Floyd, as they sailed up the ramp to a future unknown. Beats getting’ bit in bed by a zombie rat.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Freedom landed hard and bounced at least twice, but Mikki managed to keep the truck under control. Apparently, the road did continue on the other side of the barricade. When they stopped bouncing, Floyd said, “That’ll do, Mikki. That’ll do.”
Mikki watched the temperature gauge climb higher and higher. Then she saw an exit sign that said, “Emerald Valley Campground.” She figured this was as good a place as any to get off the highway before the engine seized up. Floyd agreed.
Freedom was built to take extreme punishment, but this was beyond anything Floyd had ever planned on. He would have to make more modifications as soon as possible. Not to mention repairs. He was already calculating the weight-to-gas-mileage ratio in his head to decide how much armor plating he could add—assuming the truck didn’t completely fall apart on him within the next few minutes.
For now, he was busy wiping the snot out of the inside of his helmet with tissues. He kept coughing as well, and his head felt twice its size. If he had taken a bullet, the raiders would have done him a favor.
The entrance to the campgrounds was blocked with barbed wire, spiked logs, trashed cars and anything else the locals could find. Mikki complained, “Oh, come on, now! Ain’t nobody friendly in these parts?”
“Well, one good thing,” Floyd remarked. “At least we know we ain’t the only non-brain-eaters left on the planet.”
“Oh, great! We get to decide whether we wanna get bit or shot.”
“I choose shot.”
“Yeah, me too. But let’s try to avoid both.”
“You have no idea how funny it is to hear that coming from you, Mikki.”
With her helmet on the seat beside her, she stuck her tongue out at Floyd. He just laughed. Then he coughed again, hacking up a bunch of phlegm, which he spit into a tissue.
“You don’t look so good, Floyd.”
“I don’t feel so good. Pull over there, between the two cars in that barricade. Just tuck Freedom in between the barbed wire.”
They pulled on all their gear, loaded Bonnie and Clyde with the shot shell drum mags, and stuffed some MREs into their backpacks. Floyd poured water into flasks so it wouldn’t slosh around and make noise when they were half empty. They put only ammo and a few other odds and ends into the backpacks, leaving plenty of room in case they found something useful to bring back. Like a new radiator, Floyd thought, wryly.
Floyd took the last swig of his cough medicine and threw the empty bottle away. It made his head a little woozy, but kept his sneezing and coughing in check. Then they grabbed several fallen tree branches and shrubberies and threw them over Freedom to hide her as best they could. Finally, they climbed on top of the truck and made their way over the barricade.
The two walked along the edge of a dirt and gravel road as silently as possible, listening for anything anywhere around them. Just because someone had built that barricade didn’t mean they were still alive. The forest was pretty overgrown beyond the road and anything could be hiding in there. They walked on the left side of the road with Mikki next to the forest.
Floyd tapped Mikki on the shoulder and pointed to the road ahead. It only took a few seconds for her to recognize what he was pointing at. A bear trap semi-buried in the dirt with some leaves thrown over it for good measure. Whoever had done that must still be alive or very recently dead, or the leaves would have blown away long ago. Scanning ahead, they saw a few more traps set in different areas of the road. Fortunately, they didn’t trigger any of them.
There was an old guard shack ahead where a ranger would have charged for parking. It seemed empty now, but the gate was down on both sides.
They came out of nowhere. Two simply stepped out of the forest into the road behind them. One came out of the guard shack and two more stepped out from behind trees ahead and on either side of them. All had firearms of some kind pointed right at Floyd and Mikki.
“You both want to turn right around now, and head back out the way you came,” came an authoritative voice.
The man who spoke wore an old ranger uniform, complete with Smokey Bear hat and a badge on his shirt. He carried a double-barreled shotgun. The rest seemed like regular folk, dressed in jeans and various types of shirts. Again, the clothes were old but clean, not ragged or torn. Most importantly, everyone was breathing and no one was moaning.
“We don’t want no trouble,” Floyd said, lowering his shotgun and holding up his left hand.
“Then, turn around and head back on out!”
“My friend is sick!” Mikki explained. “We just need a place to stay the night.” She pulled off her helmet.
“Geez, she’s just a baby!” said the man on the ranger’s right.
“Quiet, Bob!” the ranger ordered.
“I ain’t no baby!” Mikki protested. “My friend is sick, he just needs to rest.”
“Sorry, ma’am, but we seen what happens to people who get sick nowadays,” said Bob.
“He ain’t bit and we ain’t no zombies! Don’t you got no hospitality?”
“I’m really sorry, Miss,” the ranger spoke again, “but we got family in here and very limited resources. We can’t afford hospitality. Never turned out too well in the past. We learned our lesson the hard way. Now, please turn around. We really don’t want to shoot you, but we will. No outsider gets into our area.”
The men were all clearly scared. Scared but determined. Mikki was more than pissed, but Floyd understood. Why should anyone trust them when they came walkin’ in outta nowhere with high-power shotguns, wearing black body armor and helmets. Once again, he had planned for a zombie encounter, not a run-in with living people.
“It’s OK, Mikki, they’re right.” He coughed a pitiful cough.
“What do you mean they’re right? Whole world’s gone to hell and you can’t help someone who’s sick? Hell, we might be the last people alive on this whole freakin’ planet and you gonna kick us out?”
“Ma’am, please, just go,” said one of the men off to the side. “We will shoot you. We ain’t got no help to give.”
Floyd turned around to go and stumbled on back up the road, but Mikki wasn’t finished. She started crying, but her voice was strong despite the tears. “OK, fine! You turn us away! But we help people! You just remember the next time you need help with something that you sent us away! Hell, we just took out a whole freakin’ camp o’ raiders on the interstate. I bet you run into them assholes, haven’t ya? Well we just took a bunch of ‘em out for ya! So thank you all very much for nothin’!”
She turned away to join Floyd when the ranger asked, “That was you?”
“Damn right that was us! Nearly got our asses shot off in the process, but that was us!”
“Hold on!” The ranger called the others over and they spoke for a couple of minutes. “You sure your friend hasn’t been bit by anything?”
“Ain’t nothing can bite us through these suits,” Mikki explained. “Stopped more than one bullet a time or two as well.” Floyd removed his helmet to show he wasn’t undead, although he looked and felt half-dead.
“How many raiders are left?” the ranger asked
“I don’t know. Not as many as they was when they started shootin’ at us. We were pretty well armed ourselves…but we used up just about all our ammo in the fight. Only got what’s on our backs now.” Mikki lied just to be safe. They might seem like a few scared-as-shit yokels, but she didn’t want them knowing about the firepower they still had in the truck, just in case.
“Those raiders have been giving us a hard time. That’s why we fortified our position. Well, that and the…things…that live in these woods. We bloodied the raiders’ noses the last time they came, so they’ve pretty much left us alone lately. We keep an eye on everything from the ranger tower there. Bob and I saw what you did. Pretty impressive. Where
’s your truck?”
“Truck didn’t make it,” Floyd explained, following Mikki’s unspoken line of thinking. “That’s why we’re walking. You know, if you let us stay, we can help lead an attack on the raiders camp. There can’t be too many of them left. With you and your men, we could put an end to them once and for all. We just need a place to stay.”
“Alright,” the ranger said after a long pause. “But even if you aren’t bit, we can’t let you in with the others. Not yet, anyway. We don’t have a proper doctor and we can’t allow any infection inside the camp. You can stay in the guard shack here. It’s not terribly big, but it’s got a cot and a toilet and it keeps the weather out. You stay there until you get well, if you get well. If you set one foot outside of there, you better be headed back down the road. If we see you anywhere near our camp, we will shoot you, and you’ll never see it coming. Understood?” Floyd and Mikki both nodded.
“You got food and water?”
“We got enough rations for a couple days,” Floyd asserted.
“OK, then. We’ll leave you for now and I’ll check in with you tomorrow. You will be watched until then.” Defensively, the ranger added, “We’re good people. We’ve just seen a lot of bad people come through here. If everything works out…well, that’ll be great for all of us.”
The two thanked the ranger as he walked away and his men disappeared back into the woods. Floyd sat in the guard chair and told Mikki she could have the cot, but she would have none of that. “You are sick! You get on the cot!”
Floyd was too tired to argue. Mikki helped him out of his gear. He laid down on the cot wearing just his pants and a T-shirt, dripping with sweat. Seeing him there so helpless made Mikki want him again, but he was in no condition for her to jump his bones, and she knew they had no privacy.
She pulled a blanket up to his chin and tucked him in. His forehead was burning up as she stroked his hair. “Don’t you go dyin’ on me, Floyd. Seriously.”
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 15
