Alyssa finished working with the sample she had and sealed it back up, then looked to Beth, “Beth, this new supervisor that we have has been watching me like a hawk; asking why I insist on wasting all of the agencies precious time? He has told me over and over to just do what he has told me to do and everything will be for the greater good.”
Alyssa shook her head, “He is about as incompetent as they come, as soon as he leaves, or when he backs off, I’ll go back to being consistent with what I have known. He always shows back up though, shooting his mouth off, saying stuff like, you know if you don’t start breaking your old ways, I will be forced to terminate you. Then I can bring in somebody else. It would be cheaper and less frustrating than keeping someone around that refuses to change.”
Taking a deep breath, Alyssa looked at Beth, “I love my job and I don’t like the ways that things are going. I have seen things that I shouldn’t have seen, and I just don’t know what to do or who to talk to about it.”
Beth cocked her head to the side and looked at Alyssa very puzzled, “What things Alyssa?”
“Papers, articles, signatures... and those just to name a few. Then I also have heard people talking about how they are planning on downsizing our department and combining it so that less money will be spent... ”
Then suddenly the door opened and a couple of the staff members walked in which caused Alyssa to stop talking dead in her tracks. “Want to go get a bite to eat today for lunch?”
Beth looked at her with a sincere smile, “You got it. I have to get back to my desk and check my email. Catch you later.”
Beth turned and walked by the other staff members who were talking about how big the Packers were getting in the playoffs.
Beth made her way back to her office, Beth’s stomach started to bother her. She knew that things hadn’t been right since all of these changes started coming down the pike. Seeing Alyssa upset really made Beth thinking about just how bad things were getting.
Beth’s body hit the floor, she instantly realized that she was dreaming, and had been tossing when she rolled off the couch.
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A lone survivor from the battle had worked his way in and out of gullies near the road always keeping it in sight. Limping from a bullet flesh wound in his right thigh, he was dripping blood from the makeshift bandage. Sun had set and only the stars and a slight quarter moon lit his way. Every time he stumbled and fell, it seemed his hand hit a cactus which caused him to cry out and cuss, “GODDAMNIT! SON OF A BITCH!” It wouldn’t be long until he started to attract others.
As he reached the top of a hill he sighed, “Fucking finally…”
There in front of him were the lights of the town, walking down the hill he found the dirt road that led to it and began moving along towards home. His spirits being lifted a little, he decided to try to take his mind off of the pain by singing a song he had heard in a movie once... “Show me the way to go home. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”
His voiced raised loudly on the next line as he could hear voices and laughter ahead coming from the town...”I HAD A LITTLE DRINK BOUT N HOUR AGO AND IT WENT RIGHT TO MY HEAD...”
He didn’t see the four deaders in front of him until it was too late. He stopped and his eyes went wide with fear. Turning around he wanted to run, but it was too late, he was boxed in by a whole herd. They were on him in an instant. He pulled his knife and stabbed one in the eye then another in the forehead. The knife stuck but he was too weak to pull it back out. Grabbing the revolver from his holster, he aimed and pulled the trigger only to hear it click. Frantically pulling the trigger each time, the gun went click.
He screamed as the first one bit into the back of his neck. He tried to hit the one in front of him with the pistol but the blow just glanced off its head and had no effect. He was screaming loudly now as the deaders began to rip, bite, and tear into his flesh. Falling to ground from their weight, he laid there and watched as they tore him open feasting on his organs. It wasn’t long afterwards, he fell silent.
Looking at the body on the ground, the other deaders somehow knew there was not enough room. They turned to the lights up ahead and the voices from the town. Slowly they started to move towards their next meal.
The two men standing guard at the edge of town were drinking beer and sharing a joint. The music blaring from the tape deck back down the street caused them to start singing along to Sweet Home Alabama. They could hear the women screaming and laughing and knew that soon their shift would be over and they could go join in the fun of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. One of them jumped off the fifty gallon drum he was sitting on, “Mike I gotta take whiz, I’ll be right back.” Mike waved the joint at him, “Yeah go ahead, just don’t piss down your leg.”
The man stumbled off into the desert, “FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON!”
He walked a few yards out then unzipped his pants. He was just about finished, when the first one got to him. He never heard it come up from behind. ‘OH FUCK MIKE... MIKE OH SHIT!”
The deader was on him biting and tearing at his arm that still held his manhood. The man jerked his arm back and swung at the deader, then screamed in pain as another had bitten down where his hand had been. Mike came running, hearing the screams of pain from his partner. ‘WHAT THE?!!? JOHN WHERE ARE?!?!? OH FUCK DUDE SICK!”
His eyes locked onto John who was now covered with three deaders, one on each side of him biting and gnawing at his arms and one in front eating its way up to his stomach. Mike fired a few rounds from his rifle, hitting the one on the right in the head and the other one in the body. “FUCK THIS!”
He turned to run and was met by five more between him and the safety of the town. He fired till his rifle ran out of ammo. By then it was too late.
Back in the bar Clara, one of the girls stopped dancing. She had stripped down for the guys to just her G string, “What was that?”
One of the bikers slapped her ass, “What the fuck was what? Keep dancing baby.”
Clara jumped down off the table, “Fuck you, I heard gunshots.”
The man stood and tried to grab at her, “Well honey, that’s what I was planning on and I didn’t hear shit.”
She pulled away and grabbed her jeans sliding them on quickly, bouncing to the door trying to get them all the way up. She ran out the door. One of the other girls walked over to Clara, “Are you sure?”
Clara turned, “Yes Cass, I’m fucking sure. I know gunshots when I hear them. Lord knows I’ve heard enough,” Clara ran out the door
The wind was blowing slightly, crickets were chirping, but as they scanned the street they saw nothing and heard nothing more. Cass turned to Clara, “Maybe those two idiots, Mike and John, were just popping off rounds. Come on; let’s get back inside before they get restless. They get mean when they get restless and I don’t feel like going through that tonight.”
The two women turned to go back in, Clara looked back over her shoulder as Cass went ahead. She scanned the street both ways then turned to go in, just before the herd came into view.
The main body of the herd walked down the main dirt street heading straight for the bar. It numbered close to two hundred. Another herd was moving in from the east of town numbering around seventy; a third herd was coming in from the other end numbering about another fifty.
The music was blaring, the girls and guys were laughing loudly. The beer and whiskey was flowing freely as were the drugs. It was no wonder no one noticed till it was too late, as the herd poured through the door.
A young man who was passed out by the door was the first to be overwhelmed. He had four on him before he could even scream. Clara was dancing topless on the bar and just spun around when she saw them flowing into the bar. “OH JESUS, HOLY SHIT RUUUNNNN!”
Chairs flew everywhere as the people inside tried to get up and get away. One man pulled a pistol and just started firing, hitting another biker in the leg as he was trying to ki
ck a deader. The man fell and was mauled immediately. The deaders ripping and tearing his flesh off.
Five men ran to the back of the bar. Throwing open the door; they were met by the second herd. They pulled their guns and knives and began fighting furiously, shooting, slashing and stabbing wildly at the onslaught of horror coming at them. One pushed another man right into the herd as they were all trying to retreat back into the bar. The man stabbed three before one bit into his arm that held the knife. He turned to the group. “You mother fucker, I’ll kill you.”
The man who pushed him, turned to run, was shot in the back by the man who just yelled. The next instant, both men were on the floor being eaten alive by deaders. Their screams along with the others in the bar were horrifying.
Cass had run up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, slamming the door shut. She lit an oil lamp so she could see, then pushed a dresser in front of the door and sat on the floor. She heard footsteps outside and then pounding and clawing at the door along with snarling and growling. “Go away, Go away, leave me alone!” Cass screamed.
This only encouraged the deaders more. They began beating harder on the old wooden door. It finally started to break and the dresser moved a couple of inches. Cass turned and put her feet on the dresser trying to push it back, but there were too many. Suddenly a surge on the door caused the oil lamp to fall off the dresser and break right in front of Cass, splattering her with oil. Within seconds, she was engulfed in flames as the deaders broke through. Her screams echoed through the night.
The rest of the gang members were sleeping in various houses, up and down the street. Hearing the gunfire and the screams woke them all and brought them out, guns blazing. Some were half dressed; others only in their underwear, and few were naked.
As they hit the street, they were unaware of the numbers they were facing. They could see the flames shooting out of the top of the saloon and hear a woman's scream for what seemed like a long time. The group headed towards the main herd shooting as many as they could. They spread out trying to take cover along the other buildings and pick off the ones they could see.
As soon as they started to fire, the herd turned and came at them. The herd was moving slow and methodical. The gang was barely holding them off, but they were getting a lot of headshots. A bearded man looked to the woman beside him, “run back to the room and grab the ammo can, we’re going to need it.”
As she turned she was met by a deader, who reached up, and grabbed her arm, then bit right into her breast. She screamed in horror and pain. The man turned and fired two shots, then ran across the street to get away from the new herd, which had now appeared. The woman shot the deader in the head, then turned and ran into an old store slamming the door behind her. She looked out the window at her boyfriend who had left her to die. In her anger, she broke out a window pane and fired three shots at him, “YOU BASTARD!”
She hit him in the chest and he fell back against a wall and was swarmed. The woman realized that her act of revenge had caused her more problems than it was worth. The door broke open and more of the deaders poured in. The woman turned and scanned the room. She leaped over an old table then pushed some other wooden chairs in front of the ones coming at her. They tripped and fell over them. Running through the house, she made it out the back door. There sat an old pickup truck. She jumped in and saw that the keys were in the ignition so she started it up. As she hit the gas, several of the deaders had made it to the truck. She tore off into the desert screaming and crying.
The saloon was engulfed in flames; the gang was trying to fight their way out of the town, as the herds that had them surrounded. As the saloon collapsed, a lot of it landed on the bikes, trucks, and cars. One of the trucks held a portable fifty gallon gas tank in the bed. The explosion rocked the desert and destroyed the other nearby buildings. The fireball could have been seen for miles.
***********************************************************
Running Buffalo had gathered a small army of braves, numbering close to a hundred. They had decided in a tribal council less than an hour earlier that after the battle at the ranch, these intruders in the ghost town had to be dealt with. They had gathered their arms and rode through the night to attack before dawn.
The tribe was only about two miles when they saw the fireball. Running Buffalo looked at Stray Eagle, “What do you think?”
"I don’t know, but I’d guess somebody dropped a match in the wrong place.”
A couple of the braves nearby chuckled.
Running Buffalo turned in his saddle. “LISTEN UP. WE’RE GOING IN, STAY TIGHT, STAY ALERT.”
Within minutes, they were within sight of the town. Running Buffalo stopped the tribe holding up his hand. It was an hour before the sun would come up, but he could see a lot from the flames in front of him. The whole town was burning, and they could hear sporadic shots from within, along with a few screams. He turned to some braves, “You go that way, see if you can find any survivors.”
Then pointed to another group, “You go that way, and you all remember, we’re not here to save anyone.” The braves all nodded and rode off.
Running Buffalo turned to Stray Eagle, “we’ll wait for the sun, then go in and check things out. I don’t want to ride into a war that we didn’t start.”
As the sun came up, the scouts came back. They reported they had killed several deaders and also a few bitten bikers and women. They had put them out of their misery.
Running Buffalo signaled for them to move forward; they hadn’t heard any gunfire for a while. As they neared the town, they started to come across more and more deaders. The braves used bows and arrows to take them out. Riding up to the edge of town, they watched as the buildings were still burning. Almost all of them had collapsed in on themselves. There were burned bodies all down the street. Some only slightly charred, others were burned beyond recognition. They worked their way through the carnage, putting anything still moving out of commission. As they reached the end of town, Running Buffalo waved for all the braves to come to him.
“Make one more pass then head back. Stray Eagle and I will go to the ranch and check on Niz.”
He watched as they rode back through the town then looked at Stray Eagle, “we’ve done enough, let’s go.”
The two rode off as the sun was shining bright, with few clouds in the sky.
As they rode to the ranch, they came across straggler deaders and shot them with arrows or stabbed them. It was soon apparent why they were moving the direction they were. They were following gang members who were badly burned or bitten or both. These too, they took out.
They reached the edge of the ranch and could see movement on the porch. Stray Eagle looked at Running Buffalo, “Things look like they had a quiet night.” Running Buffalo grinned, “They deserved it and needed it.”
Stray Eagle turned and looked at him, “why needed it.?”
Running Buffalo shifted in his saddle, “I’ve been thinking about that town back there. It was attacked from three sides. Now either these deaders are getting smart or there's a hell of a lot more out there and more coming our way...
Chapter 8 – Storm Cloud Brewing
The birds chirping, before the sun even rose, woke Alden straight up. That along with the fact he rolled over on his sore rib. “Shit, damn that hurts.” Sitting up, he swung his feet over the edge and examined his calf and the snake bite. It was red, but the swelling was minimal. He gave a sigh of relief, “Well, looks like I got the poison out in time.” Alden slid on his jeans, slowly standing to check his balance and his ankle.
Pain shot through his leg as he gritted his teeth, “Jesus, that’s sore too.” Limping and half hopping to the dresser, he grabbed a pair of socks then hopped back to the bed. Soon he had the socks on and was lacing up his jump boot tightly. Scanning the room, he spotted the crutches left for him, he thought about how much he hated the thought using them again. As he reached for them, Tonto raised his head and whimpered.
Al
den reached down and petted his head, “Let’s see how you do.” Alden got up and grabbing the crutches, he made his way to the kitchen to get the coffee pot ready. He opened the door and Tonto limped outside and went to take care of his business. It took several trips to get everything out to the fire pit.
With the fire started, he made one more trip in to get his cup. As he came out, he stopped and looked out across the desert. He spotted the two men on horseback and knew immediately it was his old friends. Looking down at Tonto, he smiled, “You know buddy, I want to be a good host but my leg hurts, so they can go get their own damn mugs.”
He pulled a chair over to the table and put his foot up on an ottoman. He continued to watch his friends riding up to the ranch as the sun came up.
By the time Running Buffalo and Stray Eagle arrived, the coffee was brewing nicely. Alden held his cup up as a salute, “Welcome, my friends. The sun is up, the sky is blue, and it will be warm today. Coffee is hot, but you have to get your own mugs, my leg is still a little sore.”
As the two men got off their horses, Stray Eagle smiled, “No problem, Alden.”
He turned and headed for the house. Running Buffalo took a seat next to Alden and reached down to rub the top of Tonto’s head. “How’s he doing? He going to be okay?”
Alden had taken a sip of coffee, “Yeah, I need to get him another purple heart, but he’ll be fine. He took a round to the side of his paw. Your daughter should be okay too. I expect it will be a few days before she can move. How did things go in town?”
Stray Eagle walked out and over to the pit. He poured two cups, then added some creamer and sugar to one. Placing one on the table, he handed the other with creamer to Running Buffalo, who thanked him. Alden raised an eyebrow and grinned, “I never would have taken you for cafe light kind of guy.”
Running Buffalo smiled back, “Hey, when the days turned dark, so did my coffee, but now things are a little brighter, and so is my coffee.”
Surviving Day by Day (Book 3): Still They Come Page 12
