Pedal to the Metal (Riders of the Apocalypse Book 4)
Page 12
“Thanks. It was dicey a few times, but nothing was going to keep me from my family.”
Egypt made a tiny, yet plaintive cry in Einstein’s arms. He rarely gave her up, and when he did, it was begrudgingly. Zoe called him a baby hog.
“The Boss calls. I, for one, would love a bed.”
“One bed, coming up.”
As Dallas turned the Fuchs around, Einstein replaced Butcher in her position between the front seats.
“Dallas, are you sure you don’t want to engage?”
She took her eyes off the road and slowed down to look at him. It wasn’t at all like him to advocate violence. “Why?”
Einstein pulled a worn map from his back pocket. “Well, whoever created the barricade knows they are giving trespassers three options: go back, go forward, or go around. I think we need to proceed as if they now have the last two options covered.”
Dallas slowed the Fuchs down to a stop. “You think it’s a trap?”
“I think it’s a possibility. Given the lack of road options, we ought to be mindful that we might be being herded.”
Dallas turned around to face him. In the darkness, he looked much older. “Herded. By marauders?”
He shrugged. “By whoever set that roadblock up. I am not assuming it’s marauders, but it’s someone who wants something, right? And we have but three choices.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I think reconning your intended route is vital. We’ve got the motorcycles. I think we need to make sure they haven’t merely pushing us to a detour where they are all lying in wait. This roadblock? It’s too…too big…too obvious.”
Dallas didn’t even hesitate. “Then the motorcycles it is. We’ll take Fletcher and Hunter on back. Let’s find some shade and let everyone stretch their legs.”
“There’s only one problem. The only person who can keep up with you on a motorcycle is Zoe.”
Dallas shook her head. “No way. She’s not ready.”
“Yes I am!” Zoe called from her seat.
“Roper can ride.”
Roper shook her head. “Baby, I know you want to protect her, but I would only slow you down. Z is the only other one of us who can ride hard like you do.”
“She’s still healing. I’ll go alone.”
“Hello? I’m right here.”
Einstein shook his head. “You can’t go out there alone, Dallas, not when we know these guys could be up to something, and Roper isn’t nearly as good motorcycle rider as she is a horse rider. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“You have to let Zoe make the decision.”
“Right. Let me make my own life choices. Jesus, Dallas.”
“Not a chance.”
Einstein put his hand on Dallas’s shoulder and squeezed it. “If you don’t start trusting each of us to make our own decisions, you will be crushed by the weight of them. Don’t become a dictator, Dallas.” He moved to the back of the Fuchs.
“He made another good point,” Roper said, taking Dallas’s hand. “If Zoe doesn’t think she can do it, then she won’t. But love, you can’t micromanage us.”
“I’m not––”
Roper gently placed her index finger on Dallas’s lips. “Yes, baby, you are. At least give her the option. She’s a great rider. No one else is. Let her make the call.”
“Exactly!” Zoe said, pounding her fist into her palm. “Let me make the call. If I didn’t think I could do it, I wouldn’t.”
Dallas inhaled deeply and took Roper’s hand from her mouth. “I guess you’re right. I can’t remember the last time that kid was wrong.”
“Neither can I, love. Neither can I.”
Einstein had nailed it.
They’d only been off-road on the Kawasakis for ten minutes when an ambush team roared through the desert heat toward them.
Dallas and Fletcher made an abrupt U-turn, followed by Zoe and Hunter. Her U-turn wasn’t as tight, but it did the job.
“Jesus Christ, she can ride,” Zoe muttered, wrenching on the throttle of the red Kawasaki.
She had jumped on the opportunity to get back in the game, and when she straddled the motorcycle, all pain had seemed to dissipate from her body.
“So can you, Z. You’re keeping up just fine.” Hunter sat back-to-back with her on the bike so he could shoot more easily and protect her rear. “I got two bogeys at six o’clock.”
“Vehicle?” Zoe yelled above the whine of the bike.
“Open Jeep. Not military. Canvas top. Go for it, Z.”
Zoe peeled off from Dallas and flipped another U-turn, putting her right in front of the Jeep and heading toward it. “Left side!” she roared above the engine.
Hunter leveled his crossbow to his right. He knew she was going to drive right past it so he could get a clean shot.
As difficult as it was, the Olympian did not miss the shot.
The bolt shot through the neck of the driver, and as he slumped forward, the passenger shoved him out of the vehicle and grabbed the wheel, looking up in time to see Dallas and Fletcher circling back as a second Jeep hit a fallen tree and became airborne.
“Shit.” Yarding on the throttle, Zoe left their quarry and headed toward the third Jeep making its way toward Dallas.
“Marauders for sure!” Hunter yelled. The absence of gunfire meant they were either cannibals or collectors. Collectors were just as dangerous. They collected anything, from vehicles and weapons to women and children. Having survived collectors of women, they were all too familiar with their biblical ways and end-of-the-world proselytizing.
Whatever these people were, they intended on keeping them alive or they would have been shooting at them.
Zoe would make sure they never had that chance.
When the third Jeep approached Dallas and Fletcher, Hunter let three bolts fly in less than five seconds. He took out the driver with two. The third landed in the headrest.
The driverless Jeep hit a large boulder and ran on two wheels before skidding to a halt on its side, inches from a huge Saguaro cactus.
Dallas and Fletcher peeled away from their adversaries to help take out the third Jeep just as a fourth vehicle, a smaller Hummer, raced toward them.
“We gotta fuckin’ leave, Dallas!”
Dallas looked at the Jeep blocking a path back to the Fuchs. “Let’s finish off door number three, then get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that.”
As both motorcycles made their way back to the Jeep, the fourth Jeep exploded, sending the hood skyrocketing in the air.
“What the fuck?”
A yellow dune buggy had joined in the fray and had somehow managed to wipe out the fourth Jeep with some sort of rocket launcher. Hunter and Fletcher fired bolt after bolt, killing everyone scrambling out of the disabled Jeeps until every last one of them was dead. Three more vehicles converged on them, and Dallas realized they needed more fire power.
“Zoe! Get behind those boulders!”
The two motorcycles jumped to life and flew across the hardened desert ground while Hunter and Fletcher kept shooting.
This time, the people in the SUVs shot back, hitting Fletcher in the hip and knocking him off the bike where he tumbled and rolled on the baked earth.
“Fletcher!” Dallas yelled as she skidded to a stop behind the boulders.
Zoe watched in horror as Fletcher fell to the hot, cracked ground, bounced once, and lost his grip on his bow before rolling to a stop.
“No, no, no!” Zoe said, flipping the bike around once more and grinding to a halt in front of him.
“Dad!” Hunter was off the bike before it could stop.
Zoe pulled her crossbow around to the front and squeezed off three bolts to cover Hunter’s movement. The SUV slowed as it approached her, and to her surprise, it stopped in front of them, the marauders staring at her through their cracked windshield.
“Hunter, I got a bead on the driver,” Zoe said, pink crossbow raised. “Is he okay?”
“Not leaving you, Dad.” Hunter’s gaze never wavered from his father, his hand bloodied from pressing on the wound.
Fletcher pushed is hand away. “Do it.”
Hunter and Zoe both adjusted their aims when a man shouted, “Put your weapons down or you’re all fuckin’ toast!” He raised an M-16 to show off the toaster.
“Shit.”
“Weapons down. Now!”
Neither bowman took their eyes off the M-16. Neither dropped their weapons. Zoe and Hunter had made a pact after the last time their women had been taken and abused. They would never surrender. They would never give up their weapons if it meant her being taken prisoner.
Never.
Ever.
“Dallas is behind us, Hunter. We gotta drop and roll.”
“I’m ready.” Hunter’s lips barely moved. “Go left.”
“Now.”
Zoe rolled to her left, Hunter to his right. Both came up on one knee and commenced firing just as rifle shots reverberated through the air, killing every man in the Jeep. The man with the M-16 gazed down at his chest with a surprised looked on his face before falling backwards, dead.
“What the fuck?” Zoe said, rising slowly, her crossbow still up to her face.
Hunter didn’t reply. He was back at his father’s side in an instant. “Hang in there, Dad. Don’t you dare die on me.”
Carefully walking over to the dead men in the SUV, Zoe kept her crossbow up. She counted four men, four head shots.
Head shots.
Dallas was good. Not that good.
“Z?”
“Hang on a second, Hunter.” Reaching into the Jeep, she grabbed four rifles of various makes and slung them over her shoulder.
“Uh, now would be good.”
“I’m getting their shit. There’s still that other––”
“Put your weapons down or she’s headless,” came a deep voice from behind Zoe.
Turning, she saw a large man with a black, scruffy beard holding a sidearm to Dallas’s head and using her body as a shield.
“Don’t. Do. It,” Dallas growled. “Kill. Him.”
Zoe flicked her eyes over to Hunter, who looked at her helplessly. “Take the shot, Z.”
“Drop the fucking weapon!” The guy demanded, pressing the muzzle into Dallas’s temple.
“Don’t,” Dallas said to Zoe. “He’ll kill all of us.”
Hunter looked down at his father, who was slowly bleeding out and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Z, but my dad––” As he surrendered, the man holding Dallas swung his weapon away from her and toward Hunter.
“No!” Zoe yelled, just as a shot cracked through the air.
For a second, nobody moved.
The bearded guy’s head jerked back as a single bullet entered through his forehead, blowing out the back of his head––dead before he could hit the ground.
Everyone scrambled for a weapon before running to Fletcher.
“Who the fuck is shooting?” Zoe asked, looking around.
“No idea, but we’re vulnerable here. Get him in the vehicle and get back to the others.”
“We’re not leaving you out here. That other Jeep––”
“Suffered the same fate as this guy. Somewhere out there is a damn skilled sniper. Just because he killed Bubba doesn’t mean were allies.” Dallas helped Fletcher to his feet. “You okay, old man?”
“My side is on fire, but I’m still kickin’,” Fletcher huffed.
Dallas handed him over to Hunter. “Get him out of here. I want to keep one of the bikes, so I’ll follow you.” She shielded her eyes as she gazed up a rocky ridge. “Whoever it is obviously doesn’t want us dead or we would be dead.” As she finished speaking, the dune buggy started towards them.
“Who the hell is riding around in a goddamned Dune Buggy?” Hunter asked.
“Motherfucker,” Zoe cursed, raising her crossbow. “Are we wearing a ‘Kick Me’ sign or what?”
The dune buggy stopped and two hazmatters slowly exited the vehicle with their hands up. Neither was wearing a helmet.
They were two beautiful Asian women, arms high in surrender, walking toward Dallas.
“It was the Asians?” Hunter uttered under his breath, taking aim with his bow.
“Stay right where you are,” Dallas ordered the two women. “You guys cover me. Let’s see what the hell it is they want with us.”
Walking half the distance to them, Dallas realized they were two very young Asian women, probably barely out of their teens. “You killed these men?”
Only one nodded.
“Why?”
“My name is Akiko. This is Yuzo. We were at the base when you attacked it. We escaped when all of the chaos broke out afterwards. We were hoping you would consider letting us join you.” Her English was flawless.
“No fucking way,” Zoe growled from behind Dallas. “We don’t need them.”
“Why would you want to join us? You’re the enemy.”
Akiko slowly shook her head. “You are mistaken. Most of us are not here by choice and are every bit prisoners as you could be. When your military overtook the base, we managed to get out in time. We have been planning our escape for a while now.”
“You keep saying escape. Why is that?”
“Dallas, can we take this convo elsewhere? We’ve got a wounded man here,” Zoe said.
“I can patch him up. I was pre-med at Harvard before going home to care for my father.” Akiko spoke rapid Japanese to Yuzo, who nodded and started back to the dune buggy. “My medical gear is in the dune buggy, and you needn’t worry about anymore Jeeps. They’ve been taken care of.”
Zoe started to protest when Hunter held his hand out to stop her. “If she can stop my dad from bleeding to death, let her.”
“We can’t trust them, Hunter.”
“We mean you no harm. He could bleed out before you get him back to your camp. Let me sew him up.”
Dallas nodded. “We’d appreciate that.”
Yuzo returned and handed the medical bag to Akiko.
“We have been planning this flight for several weeks now,” Akiko said. “What we are doing here in your country is wrong. We have no business being in America, taking your people and virtually making them slaves.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Zoe muttered as she bent over to help Hunter get Fletcher’s shirt off.
“If you wanted us to take you in, why didn’t you ditch the suits? Act like Americans? Your English is certainly better than most out here.”
Akiko pulled a thread through a needle with unerring precision. She threaded it on the first try. “In the likely event we ran into more of the sweepers, we thought it prudent to have the suits to make it appear as if we had captured you.”
Dallas took a step forward. Her gaze caught two sniper rifles in the dune buggy. “Sweepers?”
“That’s what it’s called. Clean Sweep. Our job is to round up the living for job placement, select the gays and lesbians for zombie clean up, and repair the infrastructure of a nation quickly crumbling from within.” She said something in Japanese to Yuzo, who opened a small bottle of peroxide and handed it to her.
“The little one doesn’t talk?”
Akiko shook her head. “Not English, no. She comes from a rural area in Japan where only Japanese is spoken. She was part of our secret service before your virus broke out. We came here on the same transport. We became good friends on the ride over and cannot stand what the Asian Nation has in store for your country.” Akiko poured the peroxide on Fletcher’s wound. “Hold him still, please.”
“How’d you learn how to shoot like that?”
“It was mostly Yuzo. She was a sniper for our secret service before Isolation Day. She learned how to shoot on a farm. I’ve been in training since they collected us. I have a surgeon’s stable hand.”
“Wait. Whoa,” Zoe
said. “They collected you?”
Pushing the needle through Fletcher’s skin, Akiko began suturing. “Of course. We are not here of our own volition. The countries of the Asian Nation collected, trained, and then shipped their homosexuals out of their nations here. You see, while the rest of the world legalizes rights for gays, the Asian Nation views us as defective. Immune to the zombies, yes, but defective nonetheless.”
Fletcher swore as she pulled the thread through.
“How long has the rest of the world known that gays are immune?”
Akiko said something to Yuzo, who opened a package of gauze and handed one to her. “Three months into the epidemic, the Chinese government began testing the virus on its felons. None of the European countries would test their own people, of course. The Chinese did and within a few days, they discovered the makeup of the virus. Now, every nation’s greatest scientists are trying to create a vaccine for the living and a weapon for the unliving.” Akiko tied off the knot and nodded to Hunter. “Please gently turn him over.”
Hunter helped Fletcher roll onto his stomach.
“An exit wound is a good thing.” Akiko poured a little more peroxide on him.
“So the rest of the world knows gays are immune. Did the virus make it out of the States?”
Akiko rummaged through her bag. “Oh, it did. The Mexican border was like Swiss cheese. Luckily, everyone within ten miles of the border had been evacuated the first day, and any zombies were put down, but of course, no one is sure if they really got them all. Same with Canada, only they forced evacuation twenty-five miles back. Canada will, most assuredly, give way to the virus because so many Americans came across the border that first week. The Canadian law now allows anyone to shoot any American who cannot immediately identify themselves as a Canadian citizen as well. Your government’s weapon has ruined many lives outside of the ones it lost here.”
Yuzo handed Akiko a magnifying glass which she used to examine the wound. “Clean exit. Doesn’t seem to be much muscle damage. The hip is a tough creature. He’ll be fine once I sew him up.” She handed the glass back to Yuzo. “See, no one knew what horrors were going to be unleashed when they decided to make your government pay for creating such a bioweapon. One of your scientists was paid handsomely to reveal the nature of the weapon only after it was released. No one suspected that your military had created a bioweapon of such destruction. An indignant United Nations then created the Global Tribunal to deal with you.”