The SS sisters took them all to the front of the truck where there would be a little bit of privacy and started checking them for any bites or scratches in the beam of the headlights.
Collins came up to Gunny, Griz and the boys a few minutes later, announcing that the last of the teams had returned. All present and accounted for. They’d be ready to go as soon as Sara and Stacy finished up with the Mayor and his people.
“Mount up!” Griz hollered at the lounging men and women who were swapping stories and introducing themselves to the newcomers. “Let’s get some chow!”
That was met with more than a few grimaces. It was hard to have an appetite with so much death just a hundred yards away.
Dinner was a festive affair, another all-out effort by Cookie and Martha. All day long, the people in the camp had heard sporadic gunshots and had only had the one radio transmission from Bastille asking for the medics. They were nervous, worried and concerned. They tried to keep themselves busy but there was an edge of fear that was finally alleviated when they gathered around the truck to watch the men and women unloading from Griz’s lowboy along with some new people. There were shouts of relief and joy as the teams were led into the circle of trucks and given the best camp chairs near the fire. There was much hand shaking and back patting from everyone as some of the darkness hanging over many of them from the day’s grizzly work started to lift.
After dinner, Gunny found Stabby deep in the shadows outside the edge of the firelight. He was leaning against a truck, smoking one of the cigarillos the boys were fond of.
“You hiding out? The kids are looking for you, they want a story” he said.
“Nah, mate. Just ain’t feeling it.”
Gunny sat on the battery box step of the rig and pulled out his own fixings for a cigarette. He rolled slowly, sprinkling the tobacco with care in the flickering light. He had an idea what Stabby was going through, what everyone went through their first time in a heated battle where the outcome was unsure. Where it could have just as easily been you face down in the dirt, your enemy victorious.
The kid would talk if he felt like it. Wouldn’t if he didn’t. Gunny gave him time.
“How do you guys do it?” he finally asked. “All this killing doesn’t bother any of you. I know they need to die, I know we’re doing the right thing, but they were still people. Does it get any easier?”
Gunny thought about that last question for a minute before he answered.
“Yeah, Jody, it does.” he said, exhaling the fragrant smoke of pure tobacco. “You gotta remember, me and Griz were in the killing business for a lot of years. Scratch was only over in the ‘Stans for six months but his unit was in the worst of it. Hollywood must have seen some pretty sick stuff from the Cartels down south.”
“I guess you get used to it.” Stabby said, a little resignedly.
“Sad to say, but you do.” Gunny replied. “I remember the first man I killed. I still think about him sometimes. I still remember the look on his face, what he was wearing, the way he held his hand up to try to stop me. He needed killing, there was no doubt. He’d been planting IED’s along the road and we caught him red-handed. I remember it like it was yesterday but the rest, I couldn’t tell you about. I reckon I got used to it.”
Stabby nodded. “Yeah. Scratch woke us up one night, thrashing around and moaning. Bad nightmares. He has them sometimes. He said he didn’t remember the dream but it wasn’t about zombies. It was the war he was in. He kept saying something in English and Farsi, over and over. Demanding something. Information, maybe.”
Gunny sighed. He didn’t know about Scratch’s dreams or what he did that caused them. Of course, Scratch didn’t know about his, either. A man kept his secrets secret, didn’t act like he was on Oprah and blab them to the whole world.
“They say every man is guilty of the good he doesn’t do.” Gunny said. “If we didn’t kill people we thought were the bad guys over there, then they would kill innocents. Sometimes you weren’t sure, that was the worst part. At least with the zeds, there is no doubt. If I don’t put one of those things down, if I decide I can’t shoot a zombie child in the head, what if it bites someone later on? What if my weakness leads to the death of one of them?” Gunny pointed with his cigarette hand at the crowd of hundreds.
“I see what you’re saying. Then it’s on you. You could have prevented it, but you didn’t.”
“Yep. Zed’s are easy. You don’t have a choice. With people, you don’t always know if you made the right choice. Sometimes, you probably didn’t. That’s why so many of us drink.” Gunny said. “Trying to get the demons out of our heads. I can imagine the most popular place in this town is going to be the bar. Everybody is a war vet now, not just a small handful of people.”
“Yeah. That’s an idea.” Stabby said, perking up a little. “Maybe I’ll take over that Irish pub we cleared. Might be fun to own a bar. I think my touring days are over.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Gunny said. “Those Amish folks are probably into death metal.”
Stabby snorted laughter and brightened, his conscience relieved a little at all of the slaughter they had done. “Maybe I do have a tale to tell tonight.”
“Oi!” He shouted at some of the kids who were running around looking for him. “What are you little hellions doing? Who keeps yelling my name?”
They ran over to him, dragging him back to the fire, shrieking with delight when he finally agreed to tell a story, but only if they could go gather up his helpers. It didn’t take them long to pull Scratch away from Kim-Li and Lars away from his second helping of blueberry cobbler.
It was an incredible story of harrowing close calls and gentlemanly chivalry. He weaved the heroic last stand of the Mayor and the people he had saved into the tale, scaring the children as they acted out the dangerous flight to the shelter. Undead hands reached for them every step of the way, Lars and Scratch popping out of the shadows, roaring and snarling. He sanitized the gory parts down to a PG rating, mostly skipping over the massacre at the courthouse and by the end of the tale, one of the crews were bouncing around on trampolines to get the upstairs zombies. It was over the top ridiculousness and everyone was roaring with laughter at their antics. The Legendary First Battle of Lakota went down as one of the new favorite stories, to be embellished with each retelling.
Bastille filmed it all.
Chapter 22
Jessie
The Strip Mall
Jessie lay in the shadow of the air conditioning unit on the roof, not even feeling the pebbly gravel digging into his skin. He was so tired. How could somebody only sixteen years old feel like he was so ancient. He felt like he hadn’t slept for days. His face had torn open again and was dribbling blood. His hands were raw with old wounds opened back up and new ones adding their misery to the mix. He hurt all over, his head was pounding but worst of all, his heart ached. It taunted him with every beat, telling him he deserved every little pain that he had and all the ones coming for him in the future. He had no tears. A casual observer would say he looked emotionless. Maybe he was, he felt nothing, just blackness. A void in his soul. An emptiness that wouldn’t even let him feel remorse. That would come later, if he lived long enough to get over the big nothing he felt at the moment. The big hopeless nothingness.
He had taken a quick look around the roof when he finally made it up, before he lay down in the shadows. He was out of ideas and out of options. There were hundreds of them milling around the strip mall. There was no escape. No trees to swing through to the lake. No homemade spears to kill them with. No power lines to shimmy across to another building. He was well and truly trapped.
Sheila was down below him, in the convenience store. Gary was crawling around outside, probably still near the car. He could hear them. Their voices were different than the rest. Fresher, somehow. A little less dead, if that were possible. He hadn’t heard Doug’s voice in hours. He didn’t know if he was dead or if he was staying quiet. Maybe he was still barricade
d in a bathroom and was just waiting them out.
Maybe.
This trip had started out so well. The car ran fine, there weren’t any zombies outside the garage and they outran any that began following them. They were golden. They were so sure of themselves. It was going to be an easy in and out here at the strip and then on to the Southern Pines Mall. They were going to get all the cool stuff they ever wanted, have a blast running around in all the stores. But things went wrong.
They were only a dozen streets away from home when they saw a black SUV between the houses a few streets over. Jessie hit the brakes and they turned to try to see it better. It was driving around like they were. Jessie tried the horn but it didn’t work.
“Should we go after them?” Sheila asked? “Do you know who it was?”
“Nobody I know drives anything like that.” Jessie said “But maybe we should. It’s the first survivors we’ve seen.”
There was a smashing impact against the driver's door and they all yelped in surprise, Jessie’s foot slipped off the clutch and stalled the car with a jolt. A toothless, slobbering, gray-haired woman was bashing her face against the window, trying to get at him. Her hands were in claws and a breathless, hungry keen was coming from her withered old lips. Everyone was yelling “GO! GO! GO!” and Jessie's eyes were huge staring at her and turning the key. The big Ford fired back up and he took off, squealing tires. The She-Demon ran after them and they forgot all about the black SUV they’d just seen, all of them intent on getting away as fast as they could. Within a half mile, they were already laughing about it. That old woman had made them nearly piss their pants and they hadn’t been in any real danger. They were inside the car.
“You should have just rolled down the window and shot her.” Gary said
“Next time, for sure.” he replied. “She just surprised me, that’s all.”
Jessie knew where Gary’s rehab place was. It was one of those out-clinic type places away from the main hospital. It was in a long strip mall that had a few medical and dental places in it along with a Sub sandwich store and Kwik Mart on one end. He knew where it was because it was also home to the nearest Game Stop to his house. He hadn’t even realized the rehab place was there until Gary started giving him directions. He’d never noticed it. They’d talked about going to their own houses, to see if anyone survived. They wanted to but they didn’t want to. What would they do if Sheila saw her brother in the yard, long undead? What would Doug do if he saw his parents hungry for his blood? They decided to leave it. No one came for them when they were trapped in the school. No one was left alive.
Jessie sped along the deserted roads, the Magnaflow mufflers cackling with premium fuel and big block power every time he shifted gears. It sounded good. It sounded like American Muscle and he started blipping the throttle between shifts like his dad did. They were the cool kids out cruising the town. He noticed a few zombies in the rear view but he lost them every time he took a turn. Those dummies were probably running around in circles. All they needed was some cruising music so Doug started playing with the dials of the old AM radio.
“Seriously? No iPod hookup?” he’d said when he first noticed it. He turned up the volume and spun the channel knob. They all listened but it was mostly just a hissing coming through the speakers. Near the bottom of the dial he caught a faint voice and quickly turned it back slowly, trying to hear. It faded in and out but it was definitely somebody broadcasting. It came from a long way away, just the occasional word distinct enough to understand. It was in English so probably a government channel. Maybe it was telling them when rescue was coming or something.
“I bet that comes in clear at night.” Gary said. “There’s no solar interference.”
He turned it down low and left it set to the station. The sound of someone else’s voice was comforting somehow, even if it was mostly static and faded in and out. They’d have to come back out to the car once the sun went down. If whoever was sending the message was still broadcasting, maybe they would be able to hear it.
Jessie took the long way around, they were all curious about the rest of the town. Maybe they’d see other people and besides, Sheila seemed to like it. He noticed her smile. They circled around for a few miles and didn’t see anything except the occasional zombie running towards them but Jessie would just give a little gas and zoom right by. Once they turned the next corner, they’d lose him.
No worries.
No danger.
Even if they did happen across a bunch of them, the old Mercury would run ‘em down if needed. This was old American Iron, he told them. Bouncing a few zombie heads off of it wouldn’t hurt a thing. As they were getting close, Jessie sped up. He zig-zagged around a few blocks until he didn’t see any more of them in the rearview before he shot in behind the strip mall. They were hidden from view of the road by the privacy fence running along the back of the property. They were good-to-go.
As they were pulling in, Sheila pointed to the back door of the Kwik Mart.
“Hey, let’s get some energy drinks and Doritos while we’re here. There’s only one more Monster left. I want some of those Coffee Flavored ones.”
Good plan, they all agreed. They were going to need something to fuel their soon-to-be epically long Xbox marathons. Gary said if they got the right cords, they could multi-play. They could all have their own box and TV, he knew a hack.
Jessie unconsciously revved the engine like his dad always did before he shut it off. He didn’t know if he really believed the excuse his old man gave when he asked him about it once. He said it primed the cylinders with gas so it would be easier to start. It did sound cool though, and every time he let him drive it, he would blip it a little as he killed the engine. They climbed out, crowbars in hand and hurried to the back door. It had one of those metal panels over the latch to make it hard to get in but they weren’t worried about the police showing up if they made too much noise. With a few hard shoves, they got the bars in the jamb and started prying. The door was tougher than they anticipated, the bars kept slipping out. Gary was watching from the back seat and keeping an eye out if any stray zombies happened to wander up.
“Maybe you can shoot it.” He suggested, seeing the difficulty they were having.”
“Or smash the glass out front.” Sheila said.
“Shit.” Jessie said and shook his head. “These places are open 24 hours. The front door is unlocked. Let’s just go around.”
“Come on, stick your bar back in.” Doug grunted. “We got this.”
The door was bending now that he finally had a good bite and could put his weight behind it. Jessie did and started prying when they heard the collective roar of a hundred undead voices. Every single undead thing they thought they had outrun had caught up. Sheila screamed when she looked back the way they had come in and saw a massive hoard coming in off the road, running straight at them.
The latch broke suddenly and the door flew open. A thing with outstretched claws launched himself straight at Jessie.
He screamed too and instinctively swung the crowbar wildly in the general direction of the horror flying at him. It connected with its ribs and he heard them break as it was thrown sideways just enough to miss biting down on his face. It crashed down in a heap but was springing for the still shrieking Sheila instantly. There was a gurgling sound of ripping flesh as it plowed past her outstretched hands. The festering thing sank its teeth into one of her breasts and savaged a huge chunk of it lose as he drove her to the ground. She fell beneath the brutal onslaught as the three boys looked on helplessly, eyes wide and mouths open in shock and surprise. The horde from the road was on them and Gary slammed the car door closed as Doug and Jessie dashed inside the store, pulling the door shut behind them. Before it was even closed, the bodies started piling up against it, screaming in fury and hunger. They rammed it and pounded with their fists. The new meat was so close, they could smell the untainted blood coursing through their veins. There was a crash from the front of the store,
the sound of a magazine rack or something toppling over. Both boys reached for the pistols tucked in their belts. It was all they had. They didn’t even have extra magazines on them. This was supposed to be a quick in and out. The zombies weren’t supposed to be in the store or following them in off the street.
The back door was broken, there was no way to lock it. They made sure of that when they busted in. The door moved slightly in and out with the constant battering. If one of them got a hand hold in the gap where they had pried it, they would be able to wrench it open. There was a keening from the front of the store and they heard more shelving and racks being knocked around. They heard a window shatter over the roars of the undead outside and Gary’s shrill screams. There was gunfire, a lot of it, but it only lasted a few seconds. The screaming lasted much longer.
The swinging door on the stockroom shuddered open and the keening thing from the store staggered in. It was a woman in a business dress. Or what was left of her. The clerk had been the one to turn first, munching on a sausage sandwich purloined from the warming racks. His first customer hadn’t fared very well. He had taken chunks out of her legs as he drove her to the floor when she turned to run. Both of them were bitten down to the bone, the muscles and tendons dangling and what was left barely allowed her to walk. They both fired simultaneously, one black eye and most of her teeth exploded out of the back of her head.
“We’ve gotta block this door.” Doug nearly shrieked, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. The service entrance they’d forced their way through wouldn’t hold for long, it was moving in and out with their incessant clawing and pounding. There was no handle on the inside, nothing to tie a rope to if they had one. Just the big ‘Emergency Exit Alarm Will Sound’ push bar. They looked around for a shelf or something heavy to stack against it but there wasn’t anything. A tiny break area table and a few chairs, stacks of boxes on flimsy looking racks. Jessie looked at the door again and saw the automatic door closer at the top. He had seen this done in a movie once. It worked then, it might work now.
Zombie Road (Book 2): Bloodbath on the Blacktop Page 19
