by Lowry, Chris
The man and the teen whacked and cracked at each other with the sticks.
Emma let her foot off the brake and smashed it down again.
The flicker of the brake light caught Steve off guard.
Earl slipped in under a swing and jabbed the edge of his stick against the side of Steve’s head.
It knocked the boy over backwards on top of the third man’s inert body.
Earl grinned, raised the stick to smash it down in an overhead arc.
The click clack of a shotgun racking echoed across the campsite.
“Don’t move,” Bob said.
One side of his face was bathed in red light from the brakes, the other in darkness as he glared at Earl, the shotgun not quite pointed at him.
Earl dropped the stick and turned on Bob.
“You’re not going to shoot me, kid?”
He took a step toward Bob.
Bob backed up until his the back of his legs it the bumper and he could go no further.
“I said don’t move,” his voice warbled.
Earl lunged for the shotgun, grabbed it by the barrel and yanked it from Bob.
The boy’s finger caught on the trigger and blasted a shot into the trees.
The roar bounced across the lake, followed by Earl’s scream.
He held up a hand missing four fingers, jets of blood that looked black in the brake lights spurting across his face.
He screamed again.
Jimmy Ray ran around the front of the giant RV, a flashlight bouncing in one hand, his shotgun in the other.
“Who! What!” he screamed, fear and anger made it hard for him to articulate.
Earl held out his hand and Jimmy Ray dodged back before the blood could land on him.
It missed his shirt and pants, but still landed on his boots.
Earl screamed and sprinted past the ranger, running off into the darkness, the howl of his voice bouncing off the trees.
“Too much noise,” Steve sat up and held his injured head.
“Give me that,” Jimmy Ray tried to yank the shotgun out of Bob’s hands.
“That’s how the last guy got shot,” Bob clenched the shotgun to his chest.
“You’re freaking kidding me, right?” Jimmy Ray reached for it again.
Earl’s scream changed from one of intense pain to sheer terror.
It bounced off the trees and off the water and was joined by another on the far side of camp.
Jimmy Ray looked over his shoulder, and the last thing Bob saw on his face was fear as Emma lifted her foot off the brakes.
“Get in your truck,” Jimmy Ray let go of the rifle and shoved it into Bob. “Get out of here.”
He turned and ran past Steve as more screams joined the others.
“What’s going on?” Emma stepped out of the truck.
Their campsite was too dark again to see.
“We need a light,” Bob said.
He fumbled with the shotgun and opened the back hatch. Then he fumbled around inside searching for a flashlight by feel.
“A little help here,” said Steve. “I can’t see.”
“Give me a minute,” Bob called over his shoulder.
Another camper screamed, closer this time, and they could hear footsteps pounding on the blacktop as people ran by them.
A shotgun blast roared, followed quickly by another.
“We don’t have a minute, Knob,” said Steve.
Emma climbed back in the driver’s seat and pressed the brakes.
“Does that help?”
“It’s outside the truck,” Bob said. “Oh wait, yeah, here you go.”
He clicked on the light as he turned back to the campsite, blinking away the afterimage and squinting as his eyes adjusted.
The beam of light played across the dark vintage camper and settled on Steve in the ruins of the collapsed tent.
The body of the third man sat up next to the boy, grabbed his shoulders and snapped at his neck.
Steve made an animal noise of terror and rage as he shoved against the man’s chest and tried to hold off the gnashing teeth.
Bob screamed.
Emma jumped out of the driver’s seat and ran to the back of the truck.
“Bob!” she yelled, her hands slamming against the flat empty floorboard inside the door. “Light!”
Bob moaned and turned the light toward her. It bounced across the two struggling bodies wrestling on the tent fabric.
She beat it down toward the floor, gave a small cry of triumph and turned with the shotgun in her hand.
She aimed at the dead guy and pulled the trigger. It clicked dry.
Steve groaned louder. The third man moaned, leaned in as the boy’s grip slipped.
Bob reached up, racked the shotgun with one hand while Emma held it with the other.
She took two steps toward the tent and blasted the guy off Steve.
Emma bent down to help him up and saw the side of his head was covered with blood.
“Yours or his?” she asked.
Steve reached up and winced as he touched the wound.
“Mine,” he said.
“Bob, help him,” Emma instructed.
Bob stumbled forward and grabbed Steve by the arm.
He steered him to the passenger side and tried to put him in the back seat.
“Shotgun,” Steve moaned.
“No way,” Bob said. “I’m riding up front.”
Steve slipped and stumbled. Bob flinched and tried to catch him.
But Steve grabbed the door handle and cracked the front door open.
He tumbled into the front seat and grinned through the window in a dazed and confused fog at Bob.
“No fair,” Bob said as he slid into the backseat and slammed the door.
Emma jumped behind the wheel and passed the gun back to Bob.
“Don’t use it,” she said.
“Unless we have to?”
She waited a moment then nodded.
“Okay, unless we have to.”
She started the truck, dropped it in gear and backed out onto the blacktop.
A camper ran up to them and pounded on the glass, beat the door.
“Now?” Bob grunted as he stared with wide eyes at the person trying to break in.
“Not yet,” said Emma.
She dropped the truck in drive and dodged people as she raced for the exit.
A crowd of dead bodies walking up the road blocked the way.
“Now?” Bob squealed.
Emma grit her teeth and slowed down.
“Not yet,” she said.
“You’re slowing down,” Steve pointed out.
“Too fast and they could damage the truck,” she said as they reached the crowd and began knocking them aside and down.
“Too slow and they’re roadkill,” said Steve as the truck rocked up and over small crunching mounds of former people.
Then they were through and the road ahead was empty.
Almost.
Earl sprinted out of the trees and jumped on the running boards of the truck next to Steve.
He smashed his elbow against the glass, spit flying from his open mouth as he screamed in rage.
“Now?” Bob bellowed.
“Now!” Emma shrieked back.
Bob hit the electric window. It dropped automatically.
Halfway down, he racked the shotgun, aimed and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"How do you propose we do this?" Bob asked from the back seat.
"We hide," said Emma as she gripped the wheel with both hands, tears streaming from her eyes.
A bunched strand of hair had worked its way loose from the tight ponytail and whipped in the wind through the cracked window. "We keep quiet and we hide."
"Hide where?" Steve asked in a tired sounding voice.
He longed to reach out and tuck the hair behind her ear, to put his hand on her shoulder again and lend her support, comfort, whatever she needed.
He knew if he did, Bob would too, and instead of hoping that comfort from the two of them would work twice as much, he resented it. He thought it would make his offer only a half measure.
He hated the part of him that thought this, hated that it even crossed his mind. But it did, and stuck there, like grit in shoes, rubbing a raw spot on his self esteem.
So he kept his hand to himself and instead watched her hair whip around in the wind like a ribbon.
"We need to find a place to hide," said Emma. “Until daylight.”
"Like a cave?" Bob leaned forward from the backseat. "I don't know of any caves around here."
"Not a cave, Knob."
"What's your bright idea then, pretty boy?"
"A house," said Emma. "We can use houses to hide overnight."
"I thought we were going camping," said Steve.
“Yeah, that turned out well,” said Bob.
“He’s injured,” Emma said.
“It might knock some sense into him,” Bob sniffed. “But if that was the case then all the hits to the head when he was playing would have done it before.”
Emma reached the ranger’s truck that blocked the entrance.
As her headlights washed over the side panels, she saw Jimmy Ray run from the woods and jump into the driver’s side.
The truck started and pulled away from them, opening the road so she didn’t have to squirt through the mud on the side.
They reached the intersection and turned.
They drove in silence until they reached a tiny town, what some people called a map dot when they were driving through, and what the people who lived their referred to as a quaint community.
It was a collection of houses built on a small grid off the crossroads, stretching back six streets in either direction.
The houses were dark, little more than shapes in the night.
“Where is everyone?” Bob whispered from the back seat.
“Use the light, Knob,” said Steve.
He seemed to be coming around more. Emma supposed he was used to knocks on the head like Bob said.
Bob clicked on the flashlight and played it across the houses as Emma drove down one street and took a right turn.
They passed a house. Then another. Cars missing from the driveways. Garages left open. Front doors open. Like the people inside just left or disappeared.
"We'll have to be careful though," she warned them. "In case there are, you know...inside."
"Zombies," said Bob. "They're Zombies."
"That sounds like such a stupid movie," said Steve. "Zombies. It's trite."
"Whoa, two dollar word from the ten cent mind," said Bob. "I didn't know you knew what that meant."
"Shove it, Knob."
"Up your ass," Bob answered.
"Quit it," said Emma. "If you guys keep this shit up, I'm putting you out and you can make bicker all you want without me."
"Bicker," said Bob.
"Like an old married couple," she said.
"Gross," Bob and Steve said at the same time.
Bob snickered. Steve didn't.
"Jinx," said Bob. "You owe me a Coke. What would you call them then?"
"Z-men?" said Steve.
"Real original. Besides, there are women zombies too."
Steve shrugged.
"Z then?"
"Just Z?" asked Emma.
"Sure. Z."
"Alright, now we have a name for the enemy. Now where are we going to hide from them?"
“There,” Emma pointed to a house that looked empty. “That’s a good place to start.”
And she wheeled the truck into the driveway.
TO BE CONTINUED
THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES
Can I send you FLYOVER ZOMBIE for free?
Join the Adventure in BATTLEFIELD Z while you wait
A father leads a ragtag group of survivors on a hunt for his lost children in a zombie filled wasteland.
Battlefield Z
Children's Brigade
Sweet Home Zombie
Zombie Blues Highway
Mardi Gras Zombie
Bluegrass Zombie
Outcast Zombie
Renegade Zombie
Everglade Zombie
Flyover Zombie - the Battlefield Z series
Headshots - the Battlefield Z series
Overland Zombie
Battlefield Z – Gone Dark
Battlefield Z – Silent Run
Battlefield Z – No Entry
Lunar Hustle- Prequel to The Dipole Shield
The Dipole Shield - The Dipole Series
Planet 9 - The Dipole Series
Planet 10 – The Dipole Series
Phalanx - Invasion Earth
Pyrrhic - Invasion Earth
Beachhead - Invasion Earth
Bridgehead - Invasion Earth
Lodgement – Invasion Earth
Ultima Thule – Invasion Earth
Infiltrate – Invasion Earth
Dustoff – Invasion Earth
Riki Tik- Invasion Earth
Snakebit – Invasion Earth
Defilade – Invasion Earth
Moon Men
Epoch - The Future Templar
Eon- The Future Templar
Era - The Future Templar
Super Secret Space Mission
The Herd Shot Round the World
High Steaks
Conscripted - the Shadowboxer files
Mission One - the Shadowboxer files
Shadowboxer - the Shadowboxer files
Decreed - the Shadowboxer files
Suspect - the Shadowboxer files
True Nature – the Shadowboxer files
Nominee
Attache
Nazi Nukes - a Shadowboxer story
Witchmas - a Marshal of Magic story
Witchmas Eve - a Marshal of Magic story
Witchmas Day- a Marshal of Magic story
Small Medium at Large
Low Elf Esteem
Big Trouble
The Holy War – Blood Bound
The Holy War – Oath Bound
The Holy War – Honor Bound
Fort Smith – Judged by Twelve
Fort Smith - Carried by Six
Evasion - Destruction Earth
Omnibus Collections
Battlefield Z Collected Adventures Volume I
Battlefield Z Collected Adventures Volume II
Invasion Earth Collected Adventures Volume I
Invasion Earth Collected Adventures Volume II
Sanctioned – Shadowboxer Files
Unsanctioned – Shadowboxer Files
Incursion
Mobilize
