Dead Texas (Book 4): The Journey West

by Slaton, Derek

  Jeff nodded and moved towards the gate. Ricky peeked out through the slats and then quickly shut it, ducking back in.

  “What is it?” the skinhead asked.

  Ricky put a finger to his lips. “It’s a patrol.”

  The group crowded around the gate, and Sparks peeked out before turning towards her companions. “Okay, when I give the signal I want you three to take off running,” she said.

  Ricky furrowed his brow. “Are you crazy?”

  “Trust me,” she replied. “They might get off a panic shot, but they won’t get off any more. Rufus and I will be sure of that.”

  Ricky scrubbed his hands down his face. “Goddammit.”

  “You take left, I got the right,” Sparks said to Rufus as the trio prepared to sprint for their lives.

  The older man raised an eyebrow. “And the center?”

  “First come, first served,” she said.

  Rufus grinned. “It’s on then.”

  Sparks watched the patrol as they carefully moved closer, and when they hit the twenty yard range, she tapped Jeff on the shoulder.

  The trio burst from the gate, startling the guards into jumping back before even thinking about raising their weapons. As they took aim, one took a bullet in the head, the other in the stomach. The third barely opened his mouth before two bullets blew through his chest.

  “Pretty sure mine hit first,” Rufus said.

  Sparks punched his arm lightly. “You better get your eyesight checked old timer, cause I think it’s fading quick.”

  “Check the score sweetheart, my guy’s dead while yours is still wiggling around,” he teased as they strolled out through the gate.

  “I wanted to ask him some questions, so I adjusted my aim,” Sparks feigned offense at his insinuation.

  Rufus rolled his eyes. “You sure you weren’t one of them slick politician types instead of a cop? Cause that’s some next level bullshit right there.”

  “Alright, you got me.” She laughed. “But you have to admit that my bad aim paid off.”

  “That it did, girl,” he agreed as they reached the moaning cop. “Now let’s ask this sumbitch some questions, shall we?”

  Sparks knelt down beside their victim as Rufus kicked his gun away. “How you doin there, bud?” she asked. “Looks like you hurt yourself a bit.”

  He simply moaned, clutching his stomach as blood puddled beneath him.

  “Yes, I know it hurts,” she said, “but you really need to suck it up and listen to what I have to say.”

  “Please… I…” he hissed. “I have a family.”

  “And if you ever want to see them again, you need to pay attention,” she demanded. “Now, I’m going to make this as simple as I possibly can. You answer my questions, and my friend and I will be on our way. You refuse, and, well…” She drew her knife, holding the blade up near his face. “I’m going to jam this thing through your eye socket and twist it until you stop moving. Do you understand?”

  He nodded furiously, eyes wide.

  “Good,” she said. “So, let's start with your name.”

  “It’s…” he gulped. “It’s Mitchell.”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sparks wiggled the knife. “Now, how many men do you have?”

  “There are…” He coughed, spitting blood all over the sidewalk. “There are a few dozen or so up by the airport. We… we took over the hangars and made it a base.”

  She cocked her head. “Is that where your family is?”

  “No…” he hissed. “The families are in the south of town.”

  “Families?” Sparks raised an eyebrow. “How many are there?”

  He shrugged and then coughed again. “Forty, maybe fifty women and children.”

  “Jesus Christ,” she snapped. “If you are protecting families, then why did you assholes murder that bus full of people?”

  “Because that…” Mitchell gasped. “That’s what the Sheriff demanded. He puts his people first, and we need the supplies.”

  “So that means the rest of us have to die?” She lashed out and grabbed his throat and squeezed, causing him to sputter as his face turned bright purple. She finally let him go and he gasped and hacked, adding to the pool of blood beneath his head.

  “It’s nothing personal,” he wheezed.

  Rufus barked a laugh. “As you can tell, we sorta took it that way.”

  “The Sheriff came around when this all started… and gave us an ultimatum,” Mitchell croaked. “Join him and our families would be safe. Anybody who refused was executed and their families were taken to the hospital.”

  Sparks clenched her fists. “This maniac attacked the families?”

  “No, he locked them in the hospital,” he replied.

  Rufus furrowed his brow. “What’s in the hospital?”

  “Zombies… and lots of them…” Mitchell hacked. “As soon as the first person turned, the Sheriff locked it up tight to contain it. When people don’t co-operate, they’re forced inside.”

  “So you selfish maniacs have murdered hundreds of innocent people?” Sparks took a deep breath.

  “We did it for our families,” he wailed, and coughed violently again. “What would you do to protect your family?”

  She raised her knife. “You’re about to find out.”

  “Hold up there girl, I got a question for ole Mitchell here,” Rufus interrupted.

  She lowered her arm. “Okay… go for it.”

  “Who were the thirteen Vietnamese Generals involved in the Tet Offensive?” the older man asked.

  Mitchell hissed in pain. “How the hell would I know?”

  “Alright, carry on, girl,” Rufus said with a wave of his hand.

  Sparks slammed the knife down into the side of their victim’s head, and his body twitched violently for a moment before falling still. She ripped out the blade and wiped the brain matter off of it on the corpse’s shirt.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” she said as she stood up. “What the hell was up with the Vietnam question?”

  “Well, you said if he answered your questions you’d let him go,” Rufus replied with a shrug. “So I asked him something he wouldn’t know. You’re a lot of things, but a liar ain’t one of ‘em. Just wanted to, you know, protect your honor.”

  Sparks stared at him for a moment, and then swallowed hard. “You know, for a tough old bastard you can be a big ole softy.”

  “Only with certain things,” he replied with a wink, and leaned down to grab ammo from the fallen cops.

  “We should get moving,” she holstered her knife.

  Rufus nodded as he pocketed the ammo. “Agreed. South part of town?”

  She nodded. “Lead the way.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The hijacking trio crept up the road towards the exit ramp.

  “I’m really worried about Sparks,” Mary said quietly.

  Ricky squeezed her arm gently. “Aw, baby, don’t worry, she’s just blowing off some steam after a rough couple of days.”

  “By murdering an entire town full of people?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Jeff shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like they don’t deserve it.”

  “I know,” Mary replied, biting her lip. “But she’s just… different. I wish we could have convinced her to come with us an escape. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “Don’t worry babe, she’s a tough girl,” her husband assured her.

  Jeff nodded. “And Rufus will do anything to protect her, too,” he added. “She’ll be fine.”

  They reached the base of the exit ramp and knelt down in the bushes, peering at the two officers about sixty yards away with their backs turned.

  “Alright, there they are,” Jeff said.

  “How you wanna do it?” Ricky asked.

  The skinhead shook his head. “Terrain is too rough on the side of the road, so flanking them really isn’t an option. They’d hear us coming.”

  “Don’t think any of us is a good enough shot
to hit them from here,” Ricky worried. “Let alone hittin’ both of ‘em.”

  “They aren’t even looking this way.” Mary motioned flippantly, lips pursed. “Why don’t we just walk up on them and do… do what needs to be done?”

  The guys glanced at each other and shrugged.

  “That’s just crazy enough to work,” Ricky said. “Good job, baby.”

  “Alrighty then,” Jeff agreed. “Walk softly, guns out, and nobody fires until you’re within ten feet.”

  Mary put up a hand. “Or they turn our way.”

  “That too,” the skinhead agreed.

  Ricky checked his handgun and stood. “Well, here goes nothin’.”

  They spread out across the ramp, marching in unison, stride for stride. They were careful not to stomp or drag their feet, but at the fifteen foot mark one of the officers caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

  “What the hell?” he blurted, but before he could even draw his weapon, bullets riddled the pair. The corpses hit the ground and the guys double checked to make sure they were really dead.

  “Everybody good?” Jeff asked.

  Ricky nodded. “Peachy.”

  “I…” Mary stammered. “I’ll live.”

  “Baby, you okay?” Her husband furrowed his brow.

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just not a fan of all this killing.”

  “I know.” He rubbed her shoulder. “But this is an us or them situation.”

  She nodded again. “I realize that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Guys,” Jeff cut in, “we’ll have plenty of time to talk this out, but right now we need to hide the bodies and get changed into their uniforms.”

  “What the fuck?” Ricky blinked at his comrade. “I ain’t wearin’ that.”

  “Gonna have to if we want to take the truck by surprise,” the skinhead replied. “If they don’t see two cops standing here, they’ll just drive right over us.”

  “Babe, I shot a man in the back so we could get the truck,” Mary said firmly. “You’re gonna put that uniform on or you’re gonna be sleeping on the couch whenever we find a place that actually has one.”

  Ricky sighed. “Yes, dear.”

  They got to work stripping the officers as she walked over to the closest cruiser. She opened the passenger side door and sat down facing the interstate. She swallowed and blinked rapidly a few times, but couldn’t stave off the sob that tore its way from her throat.

  “Babe, you okay?” Ricky called.

  She furiously wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah hon, I’m okay. Just gonna keep watch for the truck.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rufus knelt to wait as a patrol car drove by. “See anything, girl?”

  Sparks peered through the window of the house they were hiding behind. “Thrift store furniture and a bit of a mess,” she said. “Not sure something went down in there or if they just aren’t good housekeepers.”

  “Well, I’ll feel right at home, then,” he replied.

  She patted his shoulder. “Oh, wait, I see a couple of deer heads on the wall,” she said. “Could be some guns in the house.”

  “That’s good, cause if there’s thirty of these fuckers we’re gonna need a little more firepower,” Rufus said.

  She took out her knife and jimmied the window open before looking down at him. “Can you give me a boost?”

  “Because I’m a gentleman,” he said with a grin, “I won’t attempt to turn that dirty.” He turned and cupped his hands together.

  “Aw, don’t go soft on me now, old timer,” she replied and planted her foot in his hands. He lifted her up and she dove through the window, landing in a crouch, knife drawn.

  She waited. When she didn’t hear any movement, she walked to the back door and unlocked it to allow Rufus entry.

  “Help me with the chair,” she whispered as he gently closed the door behind him. They dragged the heavy recliner in the living room over as a makeshift barricade in the living room door. Once it was wedged into place, Rufus banged loudly on the doorframe.

  A tall teenage zombie tore around the corner, bloody torso hitting the back of the chair and flipping her forward.

  Rufus drove his blade into the back of her skull. “Well, that worked better than expected,” he said.

  Sparks nodded and banged on the doorframe a second time. “Just to be sure,” she said. This time there was no response.

  “If it’s all the same.” He readied his knife. “I’ll do a pass through the house for any other threats.”

  “I’ll see if there’s anything left in the cupboards,” she replied. The parted, and Sparks headed into the kitchen to riffle through the cabinets. She tossed a box of crackers onto the counter, and found a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge.

  “House is clear,” Rufus said as he entered the kitchen. “Looks like some shit went down in the back, but nothing’s moving. How’s it look in here?”

  “How does crackers and tea sound?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Little too British for my liking, but hell, not gonna complain at this point.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s sweet iced tea,” she assured him, and laughed. “Although the mental image of you with a teacup is amusing.”

  He wagged a finger at her. “Hey now, I can raise my pinky just as good as anybody.”

  “Hopefully we live long enough for me to see that,” she replied.

  “Speaking of which,” he said, “any idea how you want to go about slaughtering this town?”

  She scratched the back of her head as she picked up a sleeve of crackers. “Yeah, that’s a bit of a pickle there. We have a few dozen people holed up in a fortified position, and I’m not sure we even have fifty bullets between us.”

  “Plus, based on the firepower that took out the bus, they ain’t fucking around,” Rufus added as he poured the tea into two glasses.

  “Hey, when you cleared the house, did you see any weapons?” she asked.

  He nodded as he lifted his glass. “Gun cabinet in the back bedroom. Looked like there were a few hunting rifles in there. Don’t know how much ammo.”

  “Well, let’s go check that out,” she said as she clinked her glass against his.

  They took a deep draught and then Rufus wiped his whiskers with the back of his wrist. “You got an idea?”

  “I always have an idea,” she replied. “The question is whether it’s a good one or not.”

  They each took a handful of crackers and headed back to the bedroom. The walls were covered in blood, but there were no corpses.

  Sparks ignored the untold horror and crossed to the gun cabinet. “Well, that’s a good sign,” she said, noting the three hunting rifles with scopes.

  Rufus opened the bottom door, revealing a few boxes of ammo. “And that’s an even better sign.”

  “How good are you with one of these?” she asked, popping a cracker in her mouth.

  “Hunting rifle?” He straightened his shoulders. “Pretty damn good, girl. After the war I’d go hunting several times a year with my dad. Nothing fancy, just deer and the occasional hog. Something about sitting in that deer blind just waiting for a shot was so damn calming.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard where it’s therapeutic for some war vets. I was in the academy with a few guys who were in Iraq. They said just being up there helped them cope with their memories.”

  “Don’t know about them boys, but for me just being camped out with a gun in my hand knowin’ that there wasn’t some chickenshit sniper aimin’ at my forehead did the trick,” he replied and shook his head.

  Sparks sighed and brushed the cracker crumbs from her hands before pulling a rifle from the cabinet. “Well, guess we’re both chickenshits because we’re about to snipe the fuck outta these boys.”

  “Well, it’s different now,” Rufus said.

  She furrowed her brow. “How so?”

  “We’re the ones doin’ the snipin’.” He pointed to his chest and the
n grinned. “Plus, look at us, we’re fuckin’ awesome.”

  Sparks chuckled. “That we are, old timer,” she said, “that we are.”

  “So girl,” Rufus said after finishing off his own crackers, “not tryin’ to rain on your parade there, but just being snipers sounds like half a plan. Pretty sure after the first shot rings out, they gonna be divin’ for cover.”

  “Well.” She turned to face him completely. “You know how you said you wanted to blow shit up?”

  His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

  “I’ll take that as a yeah,” she said with a laugh.

  “Oh hell yeah, girl,” he confirmed, gaze blazing. “Whatcha want?”

  She shrugged. “That hillbilly dynamite seemed to do the trick last time.”

  “Well, not sure I’m gonna be able to find fertilizer,” he admitted. “But don’t despair my dear, I’m pretty sure I can find the stuff to make a redneck rattler.”

  Sparks cocked her head. “Think it’ll be strong enough to take out a door, and something big, like a car?”

  “Goddamn girl, you know how to party.” Rufus’ smile showed all his teeth. “Whatcha thinkin’?”

  “These assholes turned a hospital full of people into zombies,” she said, fire in her eyes. “I feel like those poor souls would like a word with them.”

  He nodded. “Give me twenty minutes, and we can go arrange a meet and greet they’ll never forget.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Rufus wedged a long metal PVC pipe into the door handle of the hospital front doors. Sparks watched him from the second floor about six houses down through the scope of one of the rifles. He ran back to her, and she relaxed a little when he reached the front door.

  “Grab me a drink on your way up?” she called down from her window.

  He saluted up at her. “Yes, dear.”

  She chuckled and took stock of the hospital through her scope. Not a single window was empty. The building seemed jam packed full of zombies.

  “Hope you like room temperature light beer,” Rufus said as he entered the room.

  Sparks shrugged. “Something something, beggars choosers…”