Tugging on a long sleeved shirt and his leather vest, he craned his head to the north, then the south. The road remained empty. If not for the birds chirping in the trees, it would be easy to believe that everything in the world was dead but him. Strapping on his holster, Rune checked both of his Glocks to make sure they were fully loaded.
On impulse, he tried making a call one more time and got the same damn message. “Fuck me, all circuits are busy.” He tossed the useless piece of junk into his bag with a grunt. Tying his folded bandana around his head and donning his leather jacket, Rune picked up his bags and headed toward Charlene.
“Mister! Mister!” a woman’s voice called out.
Swinging about, Rune stared across the sparky flowing water at a woman standing on the opposite side of the narrow river. The breeze ruffled her curly brown hair and blew her blue and white dress against her legs. She waved at him with both arms, desperation in her actions.
“Please! I need your help!”
“What’s up?” Rune asked cautiously. He fastened his bags to the bike, but kept an eye on her.
“This is going to sound crazy, but one of my husband’s friends showed up very early this morning feeling poorly. My husband was going to drive him into town to go to the doctor, but then Jim—the friend—got really, really sick. Then he started attacking my husband and it got all...” The woman faltered, looking back over her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Where is he now?” Rune searched the terrain behind her, but didn’t spot anything moving.
“I...” she hesitated. “My husband said to take the kids and run.”
“Where are your kids?” Rune set his hands on his hips, but only so they were closer to his holster.
Looking over her shoulder, the woman fell silent.
“Ma’am?”
“I’m not sure.” Fear and bewilderment filled her voice. “They were with me.”
“Is your house nearby? Did they maybe double back?” Rune studied the landscape surrounding them. He hadn’t seen a house, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one tucked out of the way behind a hill.
“I’m not sure,” she answered, confusion pulling at her features.
A low, long moan wafted on the spring air. The smell of death, pungent and repellent, touched Rune’s nostrils.
“Ma’am? Was something following you?” Rune reached under his vest, his hand closing on his Glock.
“I don’t remember.” The woman stepped closer to the water. Wringing her hands, she said, “I think Jim hurt my husband really bad. I saw so much blood.”
“Ma’am, your children. Where are they?” Slowly, Rune began to piece it all together.
“They were with me. We were hiding in the barn. I wanted to go get help…” She shook her head, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “Jim was trying to get into the barn…I think my husband was with him…The children were crying. I wanted to get help!”
The scent of death was stronger now. Rune pulled his weapon, but the woman across the river didn’t seem to notice.
“My children are in the barn, I think. I...was there…I wanted to get help…”
A low keening rolled across the river. A figure moved through the trees behind the woman, flashes of color visible through the new leaves on the blooming trees.
“Ma’am,” Rune called out. “Ma’am, look at me.”
Very slowly, the woman returned her gaze to Rune. Her hands nervously fumbled at her collar. “I don’t understand!” she wailed.
A badly mauled female stumbled out of the trees. Her skin was gray beneath a blue and white dress that was shredded and covered in blood and bits of flesh. Huge chunks of her curly hair were ripped off her scalp and her jaw was partially torn from her face.
“I don’t understand!” the woman cried out one more time, then was gone.
Rune watched the shambling corpse blunder through the remaining trees before stepping on to the shore of the river. Behind it were four more zombies. Two were children, two were men.
“Damn,” Rune muttered.
The zombie woman reached the river first, her broken, shredded hands clawing at the air in Rune’s direction. She took several steps into the river before she lost her footing, tumbled over, and fell face down into the dark water. The other creatures followed her into the river, raising their hands toward Rune. Feral hunger filled the dead eyes sunken into gray faces. One by one, they tumbled over, caught in the current.
Rune watched in silence as the walking dead were carried away, thrashing in the water, unable to discern how to escape.
“Mister! Mister!” a woman’s voice cried out.
Rune looked up to see the ghost in the blue and white dress had returned. Waving both of her arms at him, she cried out.
“Ma’am,” Rune called out. “You need to go into the light!”
“I need your help! This is going to sound crazy, but one of my husband’s friends showed up very early this morning feeling poorly...” the ghost wailed, oblivious to the zombies being carried downstream.
With a sigh, Rune tucked his Glock back into its holster, straddled his Harley, revved her up, and left the phantom wailing after him.
Chapter 4
As the bike roared down the narrow country lane, Rune flexed his hands in an attempt to alleviate his death grip on the handlebars. His fingers were numb and his wrists had started to ache. Dragging deep breaths of warm air into his lungs, he tried to relax his tense body. The ugly knot of despair, anger, and pain had lessened slightly as he rode the familiar back roads. The wind, the growling motorcycle, and the unspooling ribbon of the road were the only church he ever needed. Even though his spirit wasn’t as heavy as before, his anguish had transferred into his muscles. Every part of his body was aching and he craved movement to release the tension. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was gunning for a fight. A burst of violence to release his rage would do him some good. In the old days he would have looked for an asshole in a bar, but now he was tempted to find one of the undead creatures. The thought slightly sickened him while appealing to him at the same time.
As if to spite the beauty of the spring day, the telltale signs of the collapse of the world made themselves visible as the hours of the day ticked by. On the horizon plumes of black smoke rose into the wide blue sky. The occasional pop of gunfire ricocheted through the hills. Around the houses set back from the road, people were securing them with nails and boards while others patrolled their fences on horseback. Yet, it wasn’t just the obvious markers of the downfall of humanity that put him on edge, but the signs that only Rune could see. The flickers of ghosts dotted the terrain as the dead and lost wandered across the landscape.
His daughter’s spirit had been adamant that he could not return to San Antonio, so Rune was temporarily at a loss as to where he should direct his path. Well acquainted with the rural roads of Texas, he knew a small town loomed ahead. Rune hoped to talk to one of his buddies that lived there and get the lowdown on the situation. Rick was an all-around solid guy, and the single father of a teenage girl named Cassidy. If Rick could update him, Rune might actually get a solid bead on what was going on. Then he could plan his next move.
Cresting a hill, he was surprised to see a row of cars queued outside of a heavily-fortified barricade. Two regular police barricades were set across the road, but behind it were sandbags, armed men, and two large Ford trucks. A small crowd of adults of varying ages and ethnicities clustered in the front of the first car in the line exchanging heated words with the armed men.
Gunning the engine of his bike, Rune skirted past cars packed with supplies, complaining kids, pets, and worried looking adults. He scooted Charlene right up to the barricade and pushed up his goggles. The stink of perspiring bodies and fear mingled with the sweet scent of the tall wild grass lining the road. Over the grumble of the motorcycle he could hear one woman’s voice above all the others.
“Do not tell me what to do! I have to get to Austin,
pinhead! I need to go through this fucking town to get there. Now move this fucking barricade.” A young woman with thick blonde streaks through her brown hair stood before the rest of the people gathered to argue with the men manning the barricade. Clad in white shorts and a pale blue tank top, she was the sort of obscenely beautiful young woman that Rune knew from experience was instant trouble if she didn’t get her way.
“The Mayor has ordered the city limits closed to all outsiders,” one of the men behind the barrier informed her. “You’re not getting through. Backtrack about ten miles and take the alternate route.”
Shaking her mane of streaked hair, the woman gripped the barricade with one immaculately manicured hand. “No fucking way. There are things back there! That’s why I came this way!”
“She’s right,” an older, pudgy man said, his ruddy face beaded with sweat. His graying brown hair hung limply to his collar, damp and stringy. He kept wiping the back of his neck with a ragged kerchief. “Some city folks had an accident out that way and it’s bad with those...those things. You have to let us through!”
The stern-faced local police officer was quite intimidating in his dark uniform and heavily shaded sunglasses. Sharp cheekbones made his long, angular face appear almost skeletal. The shotgun in his grip was glossy black and gleamed dangerously in the sunlight. “The Mayor has ordered the city limits closed.”
“This isn’t even a city! It’s a joke of a hick town!” the beautiful woman screamed. She waved her cellphone. “I’ll upload these pictures and show the world your pathetic attempts at martial law.”
Another man, a skinny white guy with lots of bushy blonde hair, shoved his way to the front of the group. “We barely made it through the pileup back on the highway! You can’t make us head back that way.”
“Yes, I can,” the police officer answered. He ominously flipped off the safety on his shotgun.
That was enough for Rune. “Hey, man, calm down. These are just scared folks.”
The other men behind the blockade had been eyeing the biker since his approach just waiting for him to cause trouble. A few took on more menacing stances.
“I have my orders. Move along,” the officer ordered. “This is not up for debate.”
“My wife is injured!” the blonde man exclaimed. “I need to get her to a doctor.”
The older man spun about on the younger one. His bushy gray eyebrows lowered over narrowed eyes. “How did she get hurt?”
“You have to let us through!” the beautiful woman screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to drown out all the other people arguing.
“We’re all Texans, man. We don’t treat each other like Yankees,” Rune protested, annoyance making his twang heavier.
“We can not and will not allow the infection to enter our town. Now move along,” the officer said in a sharp, loud voice.
The weapon in his hands barked, the shot echoing through the hills. Rune had witnessed the officer pulling the trigger, but he still started. The knot of angry protestors ducked in fear, shocked by the sudden burst.
“Move along. Now!” the officer shouted. “The next shot won’t be over your heads!” The man pointed straight at Rune. “You, there! Back that bike up.”
“Sure thing, officer.” Rune knew better than to agitate the man further. Once a person fired a gun, it became a whole lot easier to pull the trigger a second time. He immediately started to pull the bike around, already calculating how he could bypass the roadblock via another route and make it to his buddy’s home.
The beautiful woman lifted her cellphone and started snapping photos of the police officer. “I’m posting this to the internet!”
“You all need to disperse now!” the officer barked.
The men standing behind him all made a big show of lifting their weapons.
“Wait! Wait!” the older guy cried out. “This man’s wife is one of those things. Infected! We can’t go back to our cars! She’s back there!”
“No, no! She got hurt when she fell down. We were trying to get away from those things!” the younger man protested. “She just skinned her jaw and broke her arm!”
The older man shook his head adamantly. “Officer, you gotta go kill her! His wife is going to be one of those things!”
“No! No! She’s not infected!”
The line of cars had grown while the conversation became even more heated. Other people were climbing out of their cars, frightened looks upon their strained faces. The tension in the air was palatable and building to an explosion. Rune could feel the armed men tracking his every movement as he slowly reversed the bike down the road. There was no way in hell he was going to put his back to the barricade.
Holding her phone over her head, the beautiful woman was obviously trying to get some bars while still yelling about letting the world know what backwards hicks the police officers were. A car door opened behind Rune. He glanced over just long enough to see a young woman with light brown hair and deeply tanned skin emerge from the passenger side, clutching one of her arms. She was coated in blood and her jawline was one large abrasion. Rune could see the fear in her dark eyes.
“She’s one of them!” the older man screamed.
“No, no!” The younger man shook his head. “She’s hurt. Officer, please let us through.”
“Dave?” the woman called out.
“Back up now!” the men behind the barricade shouted.
A few fired their weapons.
Panic seized the frightened crowd. The small group of people scattered, some ducking down behind the first car.
“Morons,” Rune grunted. He was almost clear of the long line of vehicles.
Emboldened by the crowd breaking apart, the armed men began to fire into the air, shouting out orders to turn the cars around.
The older, frightened man ran to his small truck three cars down from the blockade. Rune kept an eye on him, sensing the man might be a bit of a wild card. The last few cars in line managed to U-turn and speed off. The beautiful blonde remained near the barricade, screaming at the police officer, clearly not frightened by the display of firepower. Rune was impressed by her utter lack of fear.
To his disgust, he had to push his bike onto the grass to avoid a car nearly sideswiping him as the driver tried to maneuver and escape the escalating chaos. In order for Rune to safely get away, he was going to have to wait out the bedlam or risk being run over by the panicking people. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young man help his injured wife into their car. A swiftly approaching figure drew the biker’s attention. It was the older man running toward the young man’s car.
“Hey! Mister! Let them go!” Rune shouted.
“You have to kill all of them!” the terrified man screamed, raising a small firearm.
Placing his hand on the Glock in his holster, Rune tried to track the old timer with the lanky gray hair, but it was difficult as people ran along the street trying to get to their cars while other vehicles nearly collided in their haste to get away. Rune lost the man behind a big blue truck. Several loud pops burst the air and then a male voice rose in a terrified scream.
“Shit,” Rune grunted. He was too late.
The blue truck finally skidded around a smaller vehicle and roared away revealing a tragic scene. The young man who had been seeking assistance for his injured wife was inside his car screaming as he rocked her body in his arms. The shattered windshield and spray of blood told a truly gruesome and terrible story. The scared older man gawked at his handiwork, gun still raised. He appeared to sense Rune, for he lifted his eyes and stared at him.
“We have to kill them all!” he yelled. “We have to kill them all!”
Rune had never been so tempted to shoot someone (other than his ex-wife’s new boyfriend) in his entire life. His fingers flexed on his firearm, the desire to draw and fire almost overwhelming. No one behind the barrier seemed to notice what had just occurred. The murderer’s gunfire had melded into the cacophony of warning shots to drive away the fina
l cars.
“I’m an American, fucker!” the blonde’s voice rang out. “Do you understand what that means?”
The only reason the gorgeous psychotic bitch hadn’t been shot was probably because of her looks.
As one of the last cars sped away, a station wagon full of kids, dogs, and possessions, Rune finally let go of his weapon. Only the blonde’s sedan, the murderer’s small truck, and the victim’s car remained.
“She was one of those things!” the killer shouted. “You saw that right?”
Pulling back onto the road, Rune shook his head. He was ready to go and leave this madness behind him.
“Move it!” a voice shouted.
The killer ran to his truck, shoving his gun into his belt.
“You cannot enter the town. We’re not allowing anyone in! How many times do I have to tell you this?” The police officer’s voice was exasperated, but not nearly as forceful as when more people had been gathered at the barricade. Rune recognized that voice. The guy was going to give in.
The killer rode away in his truck, narrowly missing Rune’s bike and leaving him in a cloud of dust.
“Asshole!” Rune gunned Charlene and aimed the bike away from the men he knew were watching his every move. Without looking back, he took off at a fast clip.
Chapter 5
Rune wanted to put as many miles as possible between him and the barricaded town. He knew a bad scene when he saw it and that town was headed for an epic downfall. Already one woman had lost her life due to idiots panicking. He hoped Rick and his daughter Cassidy would be all right despite the mayhem. Rune considered trying to circle around and enter the town through the south side, but the steadily increasing popping of gunfire echoing through the hills was not a good sign. He had promised Lainey he’d stay alive.
Rune was seriously considering laying low until the initial hysteria was over. If this thing was as bad as his daughter said, then when the dust settled only the lucky, smart, and mean people would remain. He wasn’t too sure how much luck he had, and he was only mean when he had to be, but he was sure as hell smart.
As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 Page 2
