When a few wrecked cars began dotting the other side of the highway, Floyd knew he was heading into a populated area of some kind. He also knew the place had to be fulla shamblers. That’s exactly what he encountered heading down the I-40 into Barstow, a couple of hours later.
Chapter Fifty-One
“Oh, crap!” Floyd exclaimed, as he slammed on the brakes, waking Mikki who had fallen asleep after playing Angry Birds for an hour and a half. He came to a stop about 20 feet from the edge where the bridge had collapsed. He pulled out his maps and found one that included Barstow.
“This here must be the bridge over Main Street. If we take that exit we just passed, we should be able to get around back onto the interstate up ahead there. Should be flat road after that.”
Floyd backed up and made a Y turn. As they headed back, they could see over the rail down into a little shopping center. Floyd stopped to get a better look.
Barstow Station. Only six buildings spread around a couple of parking lots, but what caught Floyd’s attention were the railroad cars. Apparently, someone had put a bunch of old railroad cars together to build a combination restaurant and tourist trap. There was a building connected to the train cars. A set of wooden stairs on the outside that had clearly collapsed long ago pointed to a second floor.
Through the binoculars, Floyd could see ladders on the sides of some the cars and a sign that said, “Keep off the trains.” Floyd didn’t think anyone around would mind if he disobeyed that sign. They could easily climb on top of the trains to reach the roof. No brain-eater would be able to come after them.
And there were quite a few around. They weren’t active. Probably hadn’t seen a living soul in more than a year. A couple dozen were standing motionless throughout the area, sticking to any shaded area they could find. Moths were attracted to light. Zombies to shadow.
“Hey, Mikki.”
“Yeah, Floyd.”
“Feel like drivin’?”
“Maybe.”
“Feel like bowlin’?”
“You bet!”
Mikki’s face lit up as she climbed into the driver’s seat vacated by Floyd. He came around to the passenger side and reentered the cab. Mikki was thumbing through her CD collection.
“Ah! Perfect!”
In a moment, Steppenwolf’s Born to Be Wild was blasting through the cab speakers, as Mikki gunned the engine. She lifted her foot from the brake and they were on their way, barreling down the onramp into a field of standing undead. Munch started meowing and jumping around in the bag hanging from the hook behind Mikki.
Fire all of your guns at once and explode into space. Yup. That was Mikki alright. Floyd decided he had finally found Mikki’s theme song.
Mikki slammed into the first wave, taking out about six creepers in a row. “Yeehaw!” The girl loved her work.
The area was split, with half of the buildings on each side of the street. Mikki spun the car around in any direction that offered the most targets. They weren’t lined up as thick as in the last city, so it took more maneuvering to maximize her score. This would have made one helluva video game! Mikki was as happy as a pig in slop.
First, she cleared the McDonald’s parking lot. Then Popeye’s Chicken. Then across the street to Grill It! and Starbucks, and then back over to Tom’s Burgers and Panda Express. Once again, the world was safe for fast food. For the moment, anyway.
They debated staying in the upper floor of the Travelodge, but Floyd said he didn’t want to pay the room tax. Mikki didn’t get the joke at first, but then she laughed. In reality, neither one felt like slogging through zombie-infested hallways blowing away everything that moves just to sleep in a dusty bed that may or may not have fallen apart and may or may not have zombie rats.
When they were satisfied that no more creepers lurked near enough to pose an immediate threat, Mikki parked Freedom in the back parking lot, next to an old caboose. The truck was tall enough that they could jump onto the roof of the caboose from the top of the cab. From there, they made their way to the top of a long raked gable, then over to the McDonald’s roof. Perching themselves in one of the corners, they had a fairly wide view of the area below them.
Floyd unfolded two canvas chairs he had pulled from Freedom and dropped a bedroll beside them. Then he spread five motion detectors in a semicircle around the roof about 20 feet away. They would take turns sleeping, and the motion alarm would provide plenty of notice if something made its way towards them. That seemed pretty unlikely, since brain-eaters weren’t likely to parachute in any time soon, but Floyd worried about undead rats climbing up through a pipe or something.
Sitting in the chairs, Floyd mixed up some fruit juice powder in his water and went to work on one of the MREs. Chicken Fajita. Mikki agreed it tasted pretty good. Lemon poppy seed muffin top from another pouch for dessert.
Mikki lit up a cigarette and sat there with it hanging half out of her mouth, keeping an eye out for movement below. As night fell, creepers began waking up and wandering about. Both Floyd and Mikki had their rifles, and took turns popping off a round into the brain of some creeper that was unlucky enough to wander into view.
“Boy, look at them stars, Floyd! It’s like the whole sky is lit up.”
“Yup,” he said, blowing off the head of a brain-eater as it emerged from the 76 gas station across the street. The moon was out, and he could see clearly enough in the twilight. Mikki had her night vision scope turned on, and was having fun playing with it.
“Don’t remember seein’ so many stars before,” Mikki continued. “Guess I never really looked up before. Too busy looking around on the ground for what might jump out at me.”
She drew a bead on the head of a half-decomposed dog about a mile away. To her delight, it blew apart and the body dropped to the asphalt. Helluva shot. She was quite pleased with herself. She clearly had the sight adjusted perfectly, now.
“I used to sit on the roof of an old gas station somewhere in New Mexico.” Floyd reminisced. “Was my base of operations for a while. You can see a lot of stars away from city lights. Of course, cities ain’t had lights for a while now, but my eyes were always on the ground, too, lookin’ for anything that moved.”
Puff came the muffled blast from Mikki’s rifle as she sent another creeper into oblivion.
They had plenty of ammo, so they enjoyed themselves for a few hours. Since both rifles were silenced, the creatures below had no idea what was happening to them, but Floyd and Mikki each kept one of the Mini Uzis with them (as well as Bonnie and Clyde) just to be safe.
“Sure is a beautiful night for killin’ zombies, Floyd.” Puff! Another zombie head exploded.
“Sure is, Mikki.” Puff! Puff! “Sure is.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Mikki laid down on the bedroll first, staring up at the stars. Everything seemed so peaceful. She wondered if Zeke was up there someplace, lookin’ down at her. Wherever he was, he was in a much better place. People used to say that all the time before, but it was really true now. Soon she was asleep, snoring soundly, as Floyd kept watch. About four hours later, he woke her and then it was his turn to grab some sleep.
The sun had risen and was making its way into sky when Floyd finally peered out at the world through sleepy eyes. He yawned, stretched, and slowly got to his feet. He looked over the edge of the building.
“What the hell? Where did they all come from?”
“Oh, all over the place,” Mikki answered. “They cain’t really see well, so I reckon they must have one helluva sense of smell. But they ain’t started moaning or howlin’ or nothin’. They know somethin’s up, but they ain’t figured it out yet.”
“Dammit, Mikki, why didn’t you wake me?”
“Are you kiddin’? You had the cutest little smile on your face. Like you was dreaming of puppies or somethin’. I couldn’t wake you. Besides, I been watchin’ ‘em real close. They ain’t no threat, and it’s fascinatin’ the way they all seem to know each other without really communicatin�
�. They don’t really work together, but they seem to have some kinda collective consciousness.”
Floyd stood there with his mouth hanging open. He decided to close it. He was doing that far too often lately. He turned the alarm monitor off and started gathering up his motion sensors. When he came back, he said, “Well, I guess it’s time we started heading out. You got a plan on how we get out of here? You’re outta grenades, remember?”
“Oh, hell, Floyd. The truck’s right below us. We just blow away whatever creepers are around the truck and plow our way back onto the highway.”
“You know it’s never that easy, right? And by the way, you’re cleanin’ the body parts off the grill this time, after we’re outta here.”
“Why bother? You worried about what people will say at valet parking?”
“Because the stuff gets stuck in the grill, which reduces the air intake, and that reduces the engine cooling. Besides, that crap smells nasty when it starts to burn from the engine heat. You make a mess. You clean it up!”
“Yes, sir! Mr. Man, sir!”
“And will you please stop sayin’ that!!!”
“Not as long as I know it annoys you.”
Floyd packed up the chairs and bedroll and the two scampered back up over the raked roof to the top of the caboose, moving as quietly as possible. Oh shit! That damn cat! No wonder every brain-eater for miles had moved into their location. Floyd could just barely make out the sound of the cat bouncing around in its bag as it slammed against the side window, me-oaning. Several dozen of its friends were all around the truck.
Floyd really regretted Mikki’s lack of grenades at the moment, and the two RPG launchers were in the cab. Not that they would have done any good. Mikki was just as likely to blow up the truck as anything else.
The Uzis would do the most damage for a crowd like this, but they were loud. That kind of noise would frenzy the creatures too much. Their best bet was to blow away as many as they could around the truck with the silenced shotguns before the brain-eaters knew what was happening. Death from above. He whispered the plan to Mikki, who agreed.
“Really?” Floyd asked.
“Yes, really. Why?”
“No argument? You don’t have a better idea to cause more damage?”
“No. You got a good plan. I agree. If I can’t blow shit up, let’s shoot shit up. Only one thing.”
“Of course, I knew it. What?”
“When we get in the truck…I drive.”
Floyd smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“You get the creepers in the rear. I’ll take out the ones in front. Aim for the ones farther out, then make your way to the ones closest to the truck. That way, they’ll be lookin’ away from the truck, wonderin’ what’s happenin’.”
“Roger that.”
Floyd had to hand it to her. Mikki knew her zombies. They started firing into the crowd about 20 feet away from the truck. One shotgun shell, one zombie brain. The ones closest to the truck turned to see what had happened to the ones who had fallen and started heading in that direction—away from Freedom.
Floyd and Mikki wasted no time. As soon as they dropped one, they set their sights on the next creeper head in line. Brain-eaters started dropping almost as fast as they could pull the trigger. With 32 shells in each drum mag, they had plenty of ammo to do the job. Soon they had cleared a fairly wide area around the truck. The hideous howling indicated the remaining undead were thoroughly confused.
Floyd and Mikki dropped down onto the truck and Floyd dove over the side into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind him. Mikki stayed on the roof and grabbed the 50-cal.
“What are you doing?” Floyd called up to her.
“Insurance!” she shouted back. “Start the truck!”
Dammit! Floyd knew Mikki couldn’t just follow a plan! He turned the key and the engine fired up. With the disc still in the CD player, Born to Be Wild blasted through the radio again, starting over as Mikki opened fire. She cut a fairly wide path ahead of her, then crawled over the top of the cab to turn the gun around to the rear. After about a hundred rounds or so, she locked the gun back up and pounded on the windshield. Floyd opened the driver side door from the inside and Mikki poured herself into the seat.
“Now the fun begins!”
The girl really did enjoy all this way too much. She headed off down the road, sending a wave of creepers into the air on both sides of the truck.
“Mikki you’re goin’ the wrong way! We gotta get back on the highway that way!”
“Oh, sorry!”
Mikki slammed on the brakes, turned the wheel, and hit the gas, making a perfect 180. Heading back the other way, she plowed through a couple dozen more creepers before zooming up the on ramp to the I-40 West. She was really getting the hang of driving the truck. Soon she’d be doing doughnuts with no problem.
“Nice turn,” Floyd said.
“Thanks! Oh, I got ya somethin’.” She handed him a couple of bumper stickers that read, The Highway Stations FM 98 and 99. “Figured we could put ‘em on the truck later.”
“Where did you get these?”
“They got a radio station in Barstow. Top floor. Roof access was open and no creepers anywhere. And I got a whole new case of music CDs!” She tossed Floyd her backpack. Sure enough, inside was a large black CD folder of assorted highway hits the radio station used to play.
“You got these while I was sleepin’?”
“I got bored. And like I said, I didn’t want to wake you. You got the cutest little profile when you’re sleepin’, you know that, Floyd?”
Floyd didn’t waste any energy getting mad at her for taking such a risk, not to mention leaving him unguarded while he slept. That was Mikki. Pure, vintage, crazy-ass Mikki. Still, no one could cause mayhem like her when you really needed it. He wasn’t kidding about cleaning the body parts off the truck, though. That would be her job as soon as they stopped.
Chapter Fifty-Three
It only took five minutes to leave the Zombie Family Reunion behind. There wasn’t much in this part of California. The next town they would come to was Victorville, and it was miles away. A little nothing town that was virtually empty before the zombie infestation. Whoever Victor was, he apparently had accomplished nothing in life other than having a town named after him. And given the town, that was no big deal, either. They would blow right by it as millions of travelers had for decades before. To think that some idiot senator from Nevada had once wanted to build a high-speed rail here from Las Vegas. That kind of stupid was hard to find.
I-40 had turned into I-15 and the truck was now heading south. Closer and closer to New California Haven. Closer and closer to their destiny, whatever it might turn out to be. With all they had been through, individually and together, neither Floyd nor Mikki took anything for granted. They approached their arrival with as much suspicion and fear as hope.
As they entered San Bernardino National Forest, Floyd thought about stopping by Big Bear Lake. If someone like Ranger Martin was at the campground there, they might find a settlement of survivors. Then again, they might also find nothing but a bunch of big bears, and Floyd had already seen one of those. Up close and overly personal. Besides, he had promised Mikki no more unnecessary pit stops. He was as anxious, nervous, and cautiously optimistic as she was to find out whether New California Haven was a dream come true, a fantasy, or a nightmare.
“Stay on the 15 South,” Floyd instructed, as they came to a split in the highway.
Wrecked cars along the road on both sides were becoming more frequent as they passed through the City of San Bernardino. Floyd could only imagine what it must be like ahead. The guy on the radio back at the campsite had advised entering through the 710 freeway, but there were several ways to get there and none of them inspired Floyd with any confidence. The most direct route was to take the 210 to the 605 South, 10 West, and the 710 straight down from there, but that would have brought them nearly to the heart of Los Angeles. Ent
ering America’s second largest city with nearly four million brain-eaters was something Floyd preferred to avoid. He didn’t like the odds. Even Mikki would have to agree.
They still took the 605 South, but they continued to Highway 60 before heading west. The 60 wasn’t an interstate and was presumably less traveled. It had five lanes in each direction and led to the 710, while avoiding downtown Los Angeles altogether. Mikki made a crack about stopping by Hollywood to see how good all those movie stars looked as zombies, but Floyd ignored it.
Mikki had to dodge around cars more frequently now, and had plowed through more than a few wandering creepers, but eventually the 60 turned into the 10 West. Floyd told her it shouldn’t be far now. They passed a sign with a diamond on it that said, “Carpools only, two or more persons per vehicle.”
“Hey, Floyd! We can use the carpool lane! I wonder if zombies counts as a person?”
“Either way, let’s not have any in our vehicle.”
“Unless they’re hangin’ off the front grill. Haha!”
Mikki took the exit and slowed way down, following the signs along a long winding strip of highway that circled through a maze of elevated cement ramps. “Where the hell are we, Floyd?”
Fortunately, she managed to stay on the right path and spilled out onto the 710 south. They both breathed a sigh of relief. As they passed over the I-5 freeway, they could see smashed cars up and down the interstate below them for as far as the eye could see. Although it was clearer on the 710, they still had a hell of a time making it through. More than once, Mikki had to plough between two cars smashed together or back up to swerve around a pileup they couldn’t force their way through. Luckily, the freeway was pretty wide, and they slowly made their way ever southward.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 25
