The hands of the dead begin to pound at the glass. I can’t understand how they know we are inside. Something must have alerted them to our presence. Splinters begin to appear in the large storefront windows.
“Hurry up!” I urge. I shoulder my pack and ready the rifle as I back towards the door. Others rush passed me as I hold my position. Nick is the last one remaining in the storefront.
“Son of a bitch,” he curses and knocks over at stack of tires. I blink into the darkness to see what he is doing.
“C’mon, Nick,” I hiss.
“Shut up,” he yells back.
I’m about to turn and leave him when the windows shatter and glass rains down on the tile floors. I raise the rifle and open fire. The powerful rifle causes me to lose my balance and bullets spray wildly into the night. Corpses pour into the building. The dead knock tires and chairs aside as they push through the lobby. Nick stumbles into my back and knocks me toward the dead as he hurries toward the garage. Fingers brush against the sleeves of my jacket. A hand clamps around the barrel of the rifle and pushes it down toward the floor. I try to pull the rifle free as the dead close in around me. I kick blindly and manage to hit something and the rifle is suddenly released sending me stumbling back into a stack of tires.
The engines of the vehicles turn over. Someone calls my name in the garage. I manage to stay on my feet and fire off several more rounds to slow the dead long enough for me to back through the doorway. Once I am in the garage, I turn and sprint toward the taillights of the idling trucks. The soldiers open fire as the dead crowd the doorway. I reach the back of the Humvee and Lorento reaches out a hand to help pull me up into the back of the truck. I collapse onto the floor as the truck begins to accelerate. The first vehicle plows into the garage door and knocks the metal panels off the tracks and rumbles into the night.
I climb back to my feet as the second truck rumbles through the open garage. The air around us fills with the moans of the dead. The headlights of the vehicles illuminate hundreds of corpses surrounding the building. One of the soldiers tosses out a grenade that sends a thick cloud of smoke into the darkness. Muzzles flash as everyone begins to fire blindly into the growing crowd of corpses. The vehicles inch forward, churning bodies beneath the tires.
The corpses grab on to the vehicle and try to climb into the bed. I grab the rifle and point it at the face of a dead farmer in muddy overalls and pull the trigger. Chunks of his skull spray into the air. His body flops back onto the crowd the surges forward behind him. I fire again and again until the bullets are gone. I reach for my pack to reload but, before I can, the truck engine growls and the truck accelerates through the smoke and into the road. The corpses pursue us but as the trucks speed down the highway they disappear into the darkness behind us.
It takes me a few moments to catch my breath. My hands shake and my heart pumps violently in my chest. I can’t understand how so many of the dead happened to descend on the store at the same time. It is like they knew we were inside. Those things just aren’t that smart. None of it makes any sense.
“You okay, Scout?” Lorento places a hand on my shoulder gently.
“What the hell happened back there?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. Hernacki said they all came down the road together. It’s almost as though someone lead them right to us.”
“It had to be Bishop.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that it was,” Lorento agrees.
As the truck rolls into town, I scan the darkened buildings along the road. If this was Bishop, we may still be in a lot of danger. Now that we have been flushed out into the open we are much more vulnerable. Maybe we are right where he wants us.
“Shit,” I mutter.
The crack of a rifle interrupts my thoughts. The lead vehicle swerves in front of us. I’m thrown back down to the floor as the driver hits the brakes to avoid crashing into the back of the first truck. Bullets begin to pelt the Humvee from every direction. I cover my head with my arms and curl into a ball on the bed of the vehicle.
“Go!” I hear Lorento scream as the truck accelerates again. The engine growls and the truck swerves and I hear the soldiers firing back at the darkened building. A moment later the gunfire stops. I slowly raise my head and see Steven covering his son next to me. Beside me Lorento changes a fresh magazine into her weapon. She studies the road behind us.
“They’re coming,” she says.
I look back and see several sets of headlights in the road. Then more headlights appear until I can’t tell exactly how many vehicles are giving chase. I get to my feet and pick up the rifle.
Lorento grabs the radio from her belt and talks into the microphone. “We need to pick it up, fellas.”
“Piper’s hit,” Hernacki says. His voice cracks in panic. “He can’t drive like this.”
“I’m good,” Piper argues. His muffled voice in the background is barely audible.
“You got shot in the fucking neck, man,” Hernacki says. “We need to pull over.”
“No,” orders Lorento. She pauses and lowers the radio for a moment as she thinks. “Damn it,” she whispers. Lorento raises the radio to her lips. “Piper, hang in there for a few miles. We need to lose them. Hernacki, do what you can for him, then get in the turret.”
“I thought these trucks are supposed to be bulletproof,” I say.
“I wish,” says Lorento.
“Can’t this thing go any faster?”
Lorento ignores me and turns toward the front of the vehicle. She grabs a large grenade launcher on the hood and begins removing it from the rack. I watch as she loads the RPG and crouches down to hoist it onto her soldier. This whole situation is getting insane. The headlights from the approaching trucks draw closer. It won’t be more than a few minutes before the lighter vehicles are able to catch up.
“When they get close I need you to lay down some fire for me, Scout.” Lorento says. Her voice remains steady and even. “Think you can do that?”
I nod and grip the rifle.
Fawn drives ahead in the pickup as the military vehicles pull side-by-side on the road. I spot Hernacki in the turret of the first vehicle. James and Morris ready their rifles in the back of the other Humvee.
“I can help.” Steven appears beside me with the rifle in his hands. I glance back at his son, cowering against the wall of the front cab. His lip quivers as he cries.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell Stevie. All I can do for now is tell him something that feels like a lie and hope that it isn’t.
I look back to the road behind us and see the headlights advancing on us. They are close enough I can make out the silhouettes of the men in the trucks and the barrels of the rifles in their hands. There’s got to be at least a dozen trucks.
“Here we go,” says Lorento. “Give ‘em hell.”
I pull the trigger and fire wildly at the vehicles. The drivers swerve as the incoming bullets hit hoods and windshields. The passengers begin to fire blindly back at us. When my magazine is empty, I reload. I glance over at the other truck and see James firing away. When he pauses to reload a bullet tears through his chest. The shot knocks him backwards and splatters the back of the Humvee with blood. For a few seconds, I can’t even manage to move while my mind tries to make sense of what I just saw.
“Keep shooting, Scout,” Lorento yells.
I rotate my body and squeezed trigger again. Tears begin to blur my vision so I can’t even see where I’m firing. Before my magazine is empty, Lorento stands up and steadies herself. She fires the RPG at the lead truck. It smashes into the grill and explodes lifting the truck off the ground. The pickup crashes back down to the pavement sideways and rolls along the road as it bursts into a ball of flames. The vehicle to the left veers off the road and slams into a tree. The driver on the right slams the brake and collides with the other pursuing vehicles. I watch the destruction as we speed away and the other drivers give up the chase.
“That will give them something to think
about,” says Lorento. She lowers the rocket launcher and retrieves her radio. “We just bought ourselves a little time,” she says. “Good job, boys.”
“Shit, man, Piper’s in bad shape,” Hernacki responds.
“Take over behind the wheel for him, Hernacki,” Lorento says. “Hoff, find us a place to regroup.”
Eleven
Hoff pulls the truck off the road onto a long dirt driveway that winds into a dark forest of trees. I hadn’t even noticed there was a driveway until we were turning off the road. That should make it tough for Bishop to track us down again. As soon as the truck pulls to a stop in front of dilapidated farmhouse, I hop out and run to check on James. His shirt is soaked with blood and his lifeless eyes stare at the sky.
“Jesus,” I whisper.
Fawn rushes over to see what happened and gasps when she sees James in the back of the truck. She brings a cupped palm to cover her mouth as she lets out a sob. I put an arm around her shoulder as she turns toward me and buries her face in my neck.
“Fawn!” Hoff calls as he opens the front door of the Humvee. Hoff and Hernacki haul Piper out of the truck and carry him toward the house. Fawn wipes her eyes and leaves to grab her medical bag from the pickup and lugs it up the driveway.
I’m so sick of crying. Sick of losing people. And I’m tired of facing what comes next. I pull out his knife from his belt and turn his head to the side. Then, I bury the blade below the base of his skull. I remove the knife and wipe the blood on the sleeve of my jacket. I stare at the wet blood on the fabric. It looks black in the moonlight.
When I finally lift my eyes I see Lorento standing behind the Humvee. I look down to avoid her gaze and realize I am still clutching the knife in my hand. I retrieve the sheath from James’ belt, slide the knife inside, and tuck it away in the pocket of my jacket. I climb down off the truck and return to the other vehicle to get my pack. Lorento trails behind me, studying my movements. I’m just hoping she will leave me alone right now. I’m not ready to deal with anyone at the moment, but especially not her.
“What are you doing?” she asks me.
“I have to bury, James,” I say as I head back to the Humvee.
“Bury him?” Lorento sighs. “Now?” She checks her watch and then looks at the darkened windows of the farmhouse.
“Yes,” I snap. “I’m going to bury him because he is my friend. That’s what normal people do. I’m not going to dump him on the side of the road and let the wild dogs eat him just because you’re in a hurry.”
I brush passed her and stalk back to the other truck. Lorento shakes her head and follows behind me.
“I just meant that we might not be safe here very long,” Lorento says. “Bishop is not going to give up, especially after what just happened.”
“I know that,” I growl. I let out a long breath as I stare at James in the back of the truck. I can’t keep it together anymore. I lower my eyes and let out a sob.
“Come on,” Lorento says as she puts a hand on my back. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Lorento helps me move James into the grass. She locates a shovel among the gear in the back of the Humvee and we take turns digging his grave in the moonlight.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” she says. It almost sounds sincere, but not quite.
“I’m sorry for losing it,” I tell her as she digs the spade into the earth. “I know you’re just trying to help, even if you have a fucked up way of going about it.”
“Thanks, I think,” she smiles.
“I just don’t know if I can handle any more of this,” I admit.
“From what I’ve seen you don’t know how to give up,” Lorento says. “Probably never gave up on anything in your life.”
I think about it for a few minutes. There were lots of times I wanted to give up on things. Hell, I swore a million times I was not going to stay in my crappy marriage or be a servant to my kids for the rest of my life, but no matter how miserable I felt at the time I could never do it. Given everything that happened, I wish for just one more minute of that miserable life every single day I wake up now.
“I quit writing,” I finally say. “When I was younger I used to think I’d write a novel someday.”
“Really?” she says. “Why did you give up?”
“Well, when we had the kids I never had time,” I admit. “I still carry the notebook around with me, though. It’s one of the few things I took with from home. God knows why.”
“Sounds like you still didn’t give up to me,” Lorento pants. “You’re just still getting around to it. Your turn.”
I take the shovel from her and resume moving the dirt. By the time we finish digging, the dawn of a new day begins to brighten the sky. We lower James into the ground and begin pushing the dirt back into the grave. After the last shovel full of dirt, I take a minute to catch my breath. Maybe I should say something nice, but I just stare at the mound of dirt instead. Words don’t really mean anything once you’re dead.
I hear footsteps approaching and turn my head to see Hoff heading down the drive. In the dim light it takes a moment before I notice the dark bloodstains all over his uniform.
“How is he?” Lorento asks.
Hoff grimaces.
“Is he gonna make it?” Lorento presses.
“He is stabilized for now, but he lost a shit-ton of blood. I don’t think we can move him. Not without killing him.”
“Jesus,” Lorento sighs. She props her hands on her hips and turns her head toward the sun climbing above the tree line to the east. “We’ll have to go without him.”
“Negative,” says Hoff. “I’m not okay with that. That’s not an option.”
“We’ll come back for him in a few days,” Lorento continues. “He’ll have a better chance if we leave him behind with Fawn.”
“What?” I say. “No.”
Hoff folds his arms across his chest.
“It’s either that or I have to go inside and put a bullet in his head so we can proceed with our mission,” Lorento warns.
“Jesus,” gasps Hoff. He looks at me briefly and notices my incredulous expression.
“You heard me,” Lorento snaps. “Don’t make me do that, Hoff. Make the right call.” She clearly isn’t messing around.
The soldier scratches at his golden beard and sighs. He considers the situation for a long moment. Lorento takes a step toward the house and reaches for her weapon, but Hoff grabs her arm to stop her.
“Fine,” he relents. “But we can’t leave him here alone.”
They both look at me and wait for me to speak.
“Fawn will stay with him,” I tell them. “I don’t like it, but she probably would refuse to leave someone that needed help anyway.”
“All right,” Lorento agrees before she turns and walks back toward the truck. She opens the door and sits down on the passenger seat and picks up a bottle of water. She takes a gulp and looks back at the two of us. “Just make it quick. The sun is up and I want to be back on the road in twenty.”
Hoff holds open the door and waits for me to step inside before trailing me into the derelict farmhouse. It reeks of mold and urine and smoke. Every room is filthy and littered with trash. The only furniture is a busted lawn chair that tilts to one side. Squatters must have been living in this place for years before the outbreak. Still, it wouldn’t be the worst place I’ve been since this started.
Piper rests on a stained mattress in the corner of what used to be a family room. Hernacki is hunched over on one knee beside him and clasps the injured soldier's limp hand in his own.
“I know everyone is tired,” I say. “But we need to get back on the road.”
“What about Piper?” Hernacki asks me. He hops up, gesturing at his comrade on the floor. He sees my grim expression and turns his stare on the soldier beside me. “We can’t, Hoff?”
“Orders,” Hoff says.
“Bullshit,” Hernacki gripes.
“I don’t like it much either,” Hoff agrees. “He
’ll have company here and we’ll be back for him soon.”
I notice Steven sitting beside his son on the moldy floorboards across the room. Stevie is passed out with his head on his filthy Captain America backpack. His dad brushes his teeth with his bandaged hand as he winces in pain. He looks even worse today than he did yesterday. I cross the room and collapse on the floor beside him. I know we need to get on the road, but I just need to rest a minute. Steven pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth and rinses it with a water bottle.
“How are you holding up?” I ask him.
“Not bad, all things considered,” he says. He seals the toothbrush in a plastic bag and returns it to his pack.
“I’m sorry that had to happen to you back at the diner,” I tell him. “I wish it would have been me instead.”
“He could tell you would be tougher to break,” Steven says. “So he tried to get me to talk.”
“Were you going to?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he admits. “I was about to tell him everything to keep him from pulling the trigger.”
I shake my head.
“I know it doesn’t make sense. But Stevie needs you as much as he needs me now. And I need you,” he sniffs. “I don’t think I could wake up every day and tell him things would still be okay if you weren’t around.”
“Steven,” I sigh. “He needs you, not me. You’re his father. I’m just...” I search for the right words. I look down at the ground as if I might find them down there.
“The truth is I was never a great dad,” Steven says. “I traveled a lot for work. His mom was always the one taking care of him. I’m just trying to do my best for him now, but I’m not always sure what he needs.”
“You’re a great dad,” I assure him. I put a hand on his shoulder but quickly remove it as he winces in pain.
“Jesus, Scout,” he groans.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so tired. I forgot which shoulder it was.”
Steven smiles and shakes his head. One of the truck engines turns over outside. It’s time to get moving again.
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 7
