“How much ammo you got?” James asked his brother, looking down at his own vest.
“Full handgun and four extra mags, but only three left for my AR. I went through almost four back there,” Connor said.
“I did go through four, so I have a little under three.”
“Time to use our melee weapons for the zombies.”
“And no more firefights.”
“We gonna do this?”
“Let’s go find Tank,” James said.
Side-by-side they walked toward the Bighorn Mountains while the sun sank lower in the sky before them.
11
The Mountains are Calling
Cresting the hill, James looked down at US-87 as it lay below them. There was a house on the side of the highway at the bottom of the hill. Another house with trees around it sat opposite the road. It looked like a small creek paralleled the road on the west, with green fields surrounding it.
“Let’s check the closest house,” James said as they walked down the hill. His ear was throbbing, but he did his best to ignore it.
Approaching the house from the back, they swung their ARs to their sides. Connor drew his suppressed handgun while James took out his tomahawk. A sliding-glass door was open and a dead zombie was lying inside on the floor. Its head had been pulverized and a bloody rock lay beside it.
“Someone’s been here,” James said as they moved into the house.
The back door brought them into an open kitchen and dining room area with a door to their right and two to their left. All the doors were open. James moved to the right doorway. Inside was the master bedroom, with a door open to the bathroom. Both rooms were clear and no guns were hidden in the nightstand or closet. Moving back out to the dining room, he went through the door on the opposite wall. It was an office of sorts and empty of threats. Taking a second, he looked in all the obvious places for a weapon and only came up with a letter opener, which he left for someone who might actually need it. The other door led to a hallway with a set of stairs going down. Moving through the hall, James briefly glanced in an open doorway on the right, leading to an empty two-car garage with one of the large doors open.
“Down first,” James said.
Connor nodded.
He moved to the top of the stairs and hesitated. The last time he’d been in a basement it had been horrifying. Conquering his fears, he tried to flip the lights on but they didn’t work. He pulled the flashlight off the rails of his AR. With the flashlight in one hand and tactical tomahawk in the other, James moved down the stairs. Connor was a step behind with his flashlight and handgun. At the bottom of the stairs, James released a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. The basement was open with an entertainment center in the right corner behind the stairs and two open doorways on the far wall. Carefully moving throughout the basement, the brothers found it to be devoid of zombies or anything useful. They moved back to the top of the stairs.
“We should probably clean our wounds,” James said, returning to the kitchen.
Pulling out a large bowl, he turned the faucet on and was rewarded with a little bit of water. Connor walked to the master bedroom.
Getting a clean washcloth from a drawer, James wiped the blood off the side of his face and neck. He was careful not to irritate the wound and cause it to bleed again. When he finished cleaning, Connor came out with a small box of Band-Aids.
“This is all they’ve got,” Connor said.
“Put it in the pack. Let’s check the house across the street. Then if we have to, we’ll use those.”
Connor tossed them to him and turned around. James put them in the backpack and they moved to the garage. Walking in, James noticed something he hadn’t before when he’d glanced in. A message was spray-painted on the wall: Anddersons, going to mountains, people chasing us. Meet you. Tank.
“No freakin’ way. He is alive,” Connor said.
“Holy crap!” James said, grinning. “Well, he didn’t make it very far after he called us. That means they probably would’ve come through here last night. Let’s go check that house across the street and hopefully find a car. Then we have to decide on what to do—go after Tank or meet up with our group.”
“Damn . . .”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Exiting the garage, they walked down to the road, turning south. James led the way, his mind a jumble of thoughts. As far as they knew, Tank was still alive, but he’d gone into the mountains, chased by the same people who’d set up the ambush. He’d need help, but how would they find him? There might only be a handful of roads leading into the mountains, but they could easily miss each other and be looking for weeks. Emmett and the girls would be waiting for them. They couldn’t just ditch them, especially little Olive. They could meet Emmett and then head after Tank, but what about the rest of the group? Would they leave them or drag them along? There was no easy decision and he dreaded having to make it. He knew which way he was leaning but didn’t want to even admit it to himself. Things were getting more and more complicated by the hour.
After walking a few hundred yards they arrived at the turnoff for the next house. Trees lined the road and both sides of the dirt driveway, obscuring their view of anything on the property.
“There was a house here, right?” Connor asked.
“Yeah, it’s tucked behind the trees,” James said. He remembered seeing it from the top of the hill.
“That’s what I thought. Keep your head on a swivel.”
James nodded and they started down the driveway. Once the trees opened up, they noticed there were over six buildings spread out on the property—two large pole barns, a shed, two stables, a detached garage and a house. He moved to the house first. They’d clear it and then check the garage and barns for a vehicle. Posting up at the front door, Connor opened it and James went into the house. The kitchen was in front of him, along with the dining room, and a door led off to the left. James moved to the door and Connor opened it. Going into the room, James noticed a set of stairs directly to his left with a door in front of him halfway into the room.
Something inside was groaning and weakly scratching at the door. Connor moved to the door as James stopped a few steps back from it and nodded. Connor opened the door. A zombie stumbled out, arms reaching for him. Its face was met with the spike of a tomahawk and it fell to the ground before he could pull the weapon free. Instead of going for the weapon, he immediately drew his handgun and aimed at a second zombie coming through the doorway. Firing, the suppressed 1911 made a muffled crack as the zombie fell to the ground, a .45 caliber bullet hole in its head. Nothing else came out of the room. James holstered his handgun and reached for his tomahawk that was embedded in the first zombie’s skull.
“We good?” Connor whispered, aiming into the room.
“Yeah, let’s clear it.”
Going through the doorway, James tried to ignore the blood-splattered bed. His mind flashed back to a different master bedroom covered in blood, with small bodies scattered on the floor. Shaking the memory from his head, he moved to the other door. Inside was a bathroom with a first aid kit under the sink.
“Score!” James said, pulling it out. “Let me see your shoulder.”
Connor closed the bathroom door and pulled up his sleeve, exposing the shallow graze in his shoulder. It looked like it hurt, but he knew the alternative was worse. If the bullet had been a few inches to the left, it would’ve been devastating, if not deadly. Using one of the antiseptic wipes, James cleaned the wound and then put antibiotic ointment on it. Finally, he wrapped gauze around his brother’s shoulder. James could only remember part of his wilderness first aid training, but he remembered that cleaning the wound was first and foremost, and he’d done that. They would check it in a day or two and make sure it wasn’t infected. The graze was shallow enough that they shouldn’t have to worry about it though.
“Your turn,” Connor said, pulling his sleeve down.
“Yay,” James said without enthu
siasm.
Connor cleaned James’s wound, then leaned back, examining it.
“I have no idea what to do here. You’re missing a chunk of your ear and I can’t figure out how to help. Should I wrap a bandage clear around your head? Or just your ear? Or just stick a Band-Aid on it and call it good?”
“Well . . . hell, I don’t know.” James looked in the mirror, assessing his ear. He could see that the missing chunk was probably the size of a dime taken off the top of his left ear. The more he looked at it, the more he realized it hurt. But he couldn’t for the life of him think of a way to bandage it properly. “I guess just soak some gauze and wrap my ear. Then put one wrap around my head to hold it in place.”
“That’ll have to do,” Connor said as he went to work. In a few minutes he had a redneck-looking bandage on James’s ear. “It doesn’t look pretty, but it should hold.”
“Feels better, I think. But I already feel an itch coming on.”
“Sucks to be you.”
“Yeah,” James said, chuckling as he packed up the rest of the first aid kit and shoved it into the backpack. “Let’s check upstairs and then go get a ride.”
“You decide what we’re doing yet?” Connor whispered as they left the bathroom.
“I’m trying not to think about it, actually.”
“Well, you’d better decide because you know where I stand. Tank is blood.”
“I know.” But that didn’t make this decision any easier; in fact, it made it a whole lot harder.
Climbing the stairs, James took the lead. At the top, the room opened up to an entertainment center with a door to the left. Hearing a thump on the other side of the door, James moved to it and waited for Connor. Once in position, James nodded. Connor opened the door. It was no zombie but a man armed with a Colt 1911 handgun. James lunged forward but knew he wouldn’t make it in time. The man had the safety off and the gun leveled at James’s forehead. James didn’t see his life flash before his eyes—he didn’t think at all—he just tried to act quickly. Being so focused on the gun and the threat of dying, he didn’t look at the man until he had his tomahawk cocked behind his head, about to bring it down on the man’s hands.
“Tank?” James asked, standing frozen, his tomahawk raised over his shoulder. He’d just about attacked his best friend!
“James? What the bloody hell are you doin’ here?” Tank asked, lowering his handgun.
“What?” Connor said, coming from behind the door. “It is you!”
“Holy . . . !” James said, sheathing the tomahawk and giving Tank a huge hug.
“I didn’t think I’d see you guys here,” Tank said as he released James.
Connor and Tank embraced, patting each other on the back.
“We didn’t think you were here either. We were about to head into the mountains after you!”
“Oh yeah,” Tank said, chuckling. “That was for the asshats following us.”
“Us?” James asked.
“James, Connor, meet Chloe.”
A woman in her twenties stepped into the doorway and gave a little wave.
“And this is Selena.”
From the other side of the doorway, an older woman with dark hair and a square face emerged.
“Nice to meet you. I’m James.”
“Connor,” his brother said.
“Hi,” Chloe said.
“Nice to meet you two,” Selena said.
“Wait, so you left the note and have been hiding out here ever since?” James asked.
“Sorta. We vandalized the wall, stole a ‘stang, took it for a joyride, looped around and parked it in the barn, then hung out in here all day. We were going to head north tomorrow, but I wanted to make sure those bastards weren’t following us still.”
“Yeah, we know those guys. They hit our group too. We lost at least thirty,” James said.
“Ah hell, I’m sorry guys. Those pricks deserve a reckoning.”
“We got a few of ‘em,” Connor said.
“Good. Serves ‘em right,” Tank said.
“So what’ve you been doing all day?” James asked, looking around the messy room and disheveled bed.
“Oh, you know. We found somethin’ to do,” Tank said with a wink.
“Oh shut the hell up you perv,” Chloe said. “I’d never even touch you.”
“See what I get for saving her ass?” Tank said.
“We’ve been playing board games,” Selena said, shaking her head as she pointed to the Monopoly and Risk boxes laying on the floor.
James and Connor burst out laughing.
“I almost believed you,” James said, cracking up.
“I had to try,” Tank said, smiling.
“What, you forgot Munchkins?” Connor joked.
“The game’s in my pack,” Tank said. “And my pack’s in my truck.”
“That’s a shame,” James said as Connor turned to the side so Tank could get a view of the backpack.
“Hell yeah! You guys rock,” Tank said. “It’s good to be back together!”
“Hell yeah, it is,” Connor said.
“Well, let’s get out of here,” James said. “We have some people to meet.”
Smiling, the three friends led the women from the bedroom. James couldn’t believe Tank was alive and here of all places. He’d been hoping he’d be okay, but he hadn’t dared hope for more. Now that they were together, they’d be able to take on anything they faced. They’d meet Emmett and the girls and continue their trek to Alaska, together. Everything was finally starting to look up.
“So where’s Frostmourne?” James asked as they walked downstairs.
“Lost it in FoCo, plus the damn thing was so heavy. Completely impractical. I should’ve grabbed one of the other dozen weapons I had hanging on my wall. But I mean, come on, it’s not every day you can go around slaying undead yelling, ‘Hail to the king, baby.’”
“That’s true,” James said, chuckling. Tank led the way from the house and continued toward the barn a few hundred yards away.
“Shotgun,” Connor called when they were halfway across the yard.
“Dammit,” James said.
“You’ve always been a little slow on that Jamesy Boy,” Tank said.
“Come on, not that nickname or I’ll tell everyone your real name.”
“I already told the girls my name. Being stuck in a room all day with two talkative girls will make a man do some dangerous things. But they promised not to use it, right girls?”
“Don’t count on it, Arthas Menethil,” Chloe said, putting emphasis on the name with a sweet smile.
The brothers burst out laughing so hard they couldn’t continue walking as they doubled over in mirth.
“What?” Chloe said.
“Sweetie, I told you that wasn’t his real name,” Selena said.
“But he was so reluctant and honest!” Chloe exclaimed. “He even teared up when he said he hadn’t told anyone since this all started!”
Tank chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Sorry, baby, I had to.”
“You dick,” Chloe said angrily, which made the brothers laugh even harder.
After a few minutes, they stood up straight. Their raucous laughter quieted down to a chuckle.
“You, my friend, are a genius,” James said. “Now, no more jokes or we’ll draw all the zombies within five miles.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Tank said as they continued to the barn where a black Ford Mustang sat. The car had red racing stripes the length of the body and looked brand new.
“Nice ride,” Connor said.
“Thanks, just bought it,” Tank said. “Only like a hundred miles on it.”
“We need to customize the rear window,” James said, looking at it. The Mustang was a two-door sports car, and if they got into a gunfight the people in the backseat wouldn’t be able to shoot. “Just in case we get in a pinch.”
“But, my baby . . .” Tank said, deflated.
“Sorry, buddy.”
/>
~~~
Pulling out of the driveway, Tank hit the gas and they sped off on US-87, the sun setting behind the mountains to their left. It was great to have the Wolf Pack back together. It’d been years since the three of them had been able to hang out at the same time. With Tank living in Colorado, James in Montana, and Connor in the corps, it’d been hard to coordinate. But now here they were, together at the end of the world. What were the chances?
It’s not just by chance, said a voice in James’s head.
The voice was right. It hadn’t been just by chance they’d survived and found each other in a random house.
James said a quick prayer: Thanks God, if you could keep helping and guiding us, that’d be awesome!
In the front seat, Connor had a small smile on his face and so did Tank.
Yes, it’s good to be back together, James thought, smiling also.
“So what the hell are we doing?” Tank asked.
“We’re meeting Emmett and the rest of our group somewhere on this road. I already told you about Alexis and Ana, but we picked up a lot more in Burns, Wyoming,” James said. “We started out with over a hundred and are now down to thirty-some.”
“Wow, that’s harsh,” Tank said. “I won’t ask how.”
James nodded as they sped down the highway. The wind from the missing back window whipped the girls’ hair around. “We can talk about that later,” he said.
“Sounds good, but did you have to get glass everywhere?” Tank asked, pulling a piece from underneath him and throwing it out the window.
The Brother's Creed (Book 2): Battleborn Page 13
