Z-Risen (Book 5): Barriers

by Long, Timothy W.

  I backed us up, and then gunned the engine again so we could pile-drive on.

  Another shuffler faded from sight. Joel tracked him and fired a three-round burst that sent him scrambling.

  So it went. We'd made it a few feet, then slow. I'd have to back up and jiggle the wheel back and forth as we drove over Z after Z.

  At last, we made it into the clearing and proceeded toward the road I'd been aiming for all along. The entire time, my passengers were tense. I got so tired of them shouting out pieces of advice I finally told them to shut the hell up.

  "I'm driving this school bus. Anyone think they can do a better job can have at it," I said.

  "You're doing fine, Jackson," Anna informed me with a wink.

  I couldn't believe it was working. We had managed to make it out of the mass even though they clawed at the windows on every side. So many dead and rotting it boggled my mind.

  But there it was. The road. Straight ahead. It would just be another few minutes and we would skirt a highway toward Portland. We would be free at last.

  I drove between two houses we'd designated as unlivable mainly because they had Zs in residence. Plus, one of the homes had been mostly picked over, and the other was a biological nightmare thanks to an exploded septic system. Living there would have meant living near rotted, liquid shit. Hey, rotted liquid shit. I just came up with a new way to describe the world today.

  We broke free of the mass of Zs, and I couldn't help but let out a whoop!

  I met Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror, and he shot me a thumbs up. Then he turned back to the window and shot a Z in the head. Classy.

  We were going to make it after all.

  The front of the bus was covered in blood and shreds of clothing. A Z’s arm dangled from the top where it sloped toward the windshield.

  But the Z-scoop had held up and done its job.

  After we broke free from the mass of Zs, we had made it a mile or two from Fortress, and I thought we were in the clear. Our only issue was that the scoop rattled like the dickens every time I got up to anything over fifteen miles an hour. It bounced up and down and occasionally touched the road before being flung back up. It had to be the shitty screws. They had obviously come loose, and now the noise was going to be worse me standing on the roof bellowing like Tarzan.

  There were still a lot of Zs out there, but the mass had dissipated a great deal once we had broken free of the main group around Fortress.

  A side window shattered and pieces of safety glass sprinkled across the floor. Christy ducked and pulled Frosty close. The dog whimpered. I nearly slammed on the brakes. If something had happened to her, I was going to go out there and sort things out with my newly-minted lead pipe.

  "Everyone okay?" I yelled.

  "Yeah. Someone shot at the bus," Erik replied.

  “What the actual fuck?” I said in disbelief.

  He had ducked down, but his head appeared as he tried to find the shooter. Another blast and another window took a hit.

  We slammed into a fresh hell of Zs in the form of a strange flash mob. They jerked as they approached us like there were going to break into Thriller at any second. I slammed on the brakes and nearly went through the windshield for my effort, and the scoop ground into the road, the tip crumpling. We slowed to a crawl as I struggled through them with the huge vehicle.

  "Speed up!" Anna called.

  "You crazy? There's at least thirty out there, and the shitty cattle prod has just about had it."

  Another shot and the window above Katherine cracked. Two more shots followed and did a good job of sending glass flying.

  "There, on the roof," Joel called.

  Erik moved from behind the seat and took up station next to Joel.

  "Where," I asked, struggling to find whatever Joel tried to point out while simultaneously keeping our mass at a slow crawl and ducking so I didn't get my ass shot off.

  "Just keep it cool, man. There's a guy up there with a hunting rifle. Luckily, he can't hit shit," Joel said.

  "He's doing a great job of hitting our bus," I argued.

  "Stay on target," Joel said.

  "Sure thing, Obi Wan," I muttered.

  Joel opened up with his rifle, firing five or six rounds He ducked back down, ejected a magazine, and then slapped a fresh one home.

  "You get him?" I asked.

  My nerves were already frayed and someone using us as target practice wasn't helping matters one bit.

  "Not sure."

  More guns fired and, this time, I did sink towards the floor. Rounds rattled off the siding while others punched through glass.

  I broke free of the Zs and said fuck it. I pushed the gas pedal to the floor, and the bus slowly came up to speed even though the Z-scoop bounced up and down like a broken washing machine. We hit a main street, and I found our way free up ahead for at least a quarter of a mile.

  Joel and Erik returned fire. Scott joined them and shot back as well. Anna must not have wanted to be left out. She pulled her big handgun and found an empty seat. She looked for targets with her gun trained in their direction.

  Three or four rounds rattled the bus again. One of them hit the driver's side window and exited the glass on the door. I exhaled a groan and kept my foot down.

  "At least five of them. Eleven o'clock," Erik said and shot in that direction.

  "Suppress them, every last one," Joel urged.

  Guns boomed, including Anna's. It was like someone had stuffed my ears with cotton and smacked me upside the head.

  There was a bend in the road where it split in two different directions like a Y. The right side was overgrown, and a bunch of Zs waited. I took the second path and found more empty road before we came around a curve. I had to slam on the brakes again so we didn't hit an abandoned sports car. It was covered in dirt, and the soft top had been ripped apart from the inside.

  I swerved but we still clipped it. I got us back on track and raced up the street.

  We had outdistanced the shooters, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then the bus went wonky as something exploded. A gunshot's report arrived a split second later.

  The bus shimmied to the left so I leaned to the right. The Z-scoop must have seen enough because the top set of screws gave loose, and the end struck the ground. I pushed it along the road like a fucked up snow plow, the noise a horrendous screech. It finally crumpled, and I had to come to a stop. When I backed up, the scoop gave up the ghost and popped free.

  The stop was a mistake because another shot sounded, and then something exploded toward the rear of the bus.

  "They got a tire," Joel yelled.

  "Damn. I know," I yelled back.

  I had no choice but to back up a few feet, then crank the wheel hard so I could get around the crumpled remains of the Z-scoop.

  The road split ahead again, and I took a right this time. This wasn't getting us any closer to Portland, but it was getting us out of those gun sights. Back before the zombie apocalypse, I would have had my cell phone in one hand while I used a GPS program to locate the quickest path. Now I just played it by eye, so to speak. Joel and I had traversed this area so many times over the last six months, we both know it well, but we approached from a different angle.

  The street took us into the outskirts of Portland where there were strip malls, gas stations, and fast food shops.

  The bus bumped up and down on the flat tire. There was a 76 Station, and I wished we could stop, jack up the bus, and fix the tire, even if I had to set the damn thing on fire again.

  At least the guns had stopped blazing.

  "Hey, see that road? It leads to one of the bridges into Portland. According to that map those guys handed us, that's close to our way in," Erik said.

  "Yeah. It's blocked though. No way we can make it in this rig," I said.

  Sure enough. The ramp crossed a huge river and was packed with abandoned cars. A couple of lone Zs traipsed across it, but they were few and far between.

&nb
sp; "So, we do what, just park out front and take a long walk? That's miles," Anna said.

  "It is miles, but think about it. That's one hell of a long way for a Z to walk. They'd be able to pick off anyone who didn't belong from a distance," Joel said.

  "Sound tactics," Erik said.

  Another shot rattled me.

  "Fuck it. Let's just get the hell onto the bridge. Maybe our pursuers will give up," I said.

  "Maybe. Or maybe we'll be stuck out in the open and easy pickings," Joel said.

  I hated it when he made so much sense, but what choice did we have?

  The bus was about to give out, and we had no idea who or why people were shooting at us.

  Another vehicle sped toward the bridge. This one a big SUV that was painted dark green. It stopped and someone got out and looked around. They spoke into a radio, got back into in, and raced away.

  “What’s with all of the activity around here?” I asked.

  “Got a bad feeling about this,” Joel said. “I think people have been herded in this direction. Like it’s a big damn trap.”

  “I don’t like it when you get bad feelings because you’re usually right.” I grimaced.

  The bus fought me as one of the rear tires gave way. Rubber slapped pavement, and the rim ground against the road. Ahead there were a couple of abandoned cars, but we didn’t have time to do stop and find out if any of them had keys or if they even worked. There were simply too many variables.

  Erik broke out a pair of binoculars and trained them on the bridge. I focused on getting us around the side of a strip mall so we could use it as cover from whoever was shooting at us.

  I fought the steering wheel using every bit of upper body strength I had to make the corner. The noise was horrendous and was sure to call every single Z in the vicinity, not that they weren’t already heading our way.

  “Shit. The bridge is going to be a problem,” Erik said.

  “What the hell?” I asked him.

  I put my hands next to each other, grasped the wheel, and leaned to the right to turn the bus. A big green Ford F250 cut across the street ahead of me and headed for the river. Where was everyone heading?

  “Looks like about a hundred zombies. Maybe more. There’s a whole line of military vehicles stuck up there. Maybe we can find some more guns in them,” Erik said,

  We finally got around the side of a Greek restaurant. I hit the door release, and Joel was the first one out.

  “So, the bridge a go? Or do we need to find a new vehicle and make for the other side of the city. The horde can’t be that large,” Joel said.

  “Maybe. I’d like to get somewhere high and see what’s out there,” Erik said.

  “We have Zs on both sides and some random shooter or shooters aiming for us. Doesn’t seem like a safe bet,” I said.

  “I have an idea. How do you feel about being moving target?” Joel turned to me.

  “Not good. How would you feel?”

  “Brother, we’ve been targets since this whole thing started. Hear me out,” Joel said.

  “Nope. If you want me to go out there and be some kind of bait, I’m out,” I said.

  “Just need you to run across the street. You’ll be out of sight before they get a bead on you,” Joel said.

  “Then you do it. I’m not going out there,” I said.

  “Can’t. I’m going to take them out. I know the direction the shots were coming from. Did you see that little Chevy that was taking up half of the sidewalk? The front end is high enough that I can crawl under it. You make a run, and when I see the glint of a weapon, that guy is dead meat.”

  “That’s actually a great plan,” Erik said. “Let’s give them a little more confusion. I’ll draw fire as well while you get into position.”

  “Solid plan. Let’s sweep our immediate area and make sure we have a clean AO. If there are a lot of Zs around, no need to be fighting them hand to hand while my ass is hanging in the wind,” Joel said.

  “You boys go do your stupid thing. Christy and I will stay back and do a sweep. Let’s just get it done ASAP so we can evac this place. Sitting here is giving me the creeps,” Anna said.

  “You sure?” I asked Anna.

  Wait. Was I actually agreeing to this stupid plan?

  “Yeah, I’m sure, you dope. Just don’t slow down when you start running, oh, and don’t get shot,” Anna said.

  “I’ll help.” Katherine rose to her feet.

  Her eyes were dark and hollow. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. Was any of this a good idea? No. In fact, it was a terrible idea. But there were seven of us, and it made sense to work as two separate teams.

  “Good, we’ll need it,” Anna said.

  Joel pointed at the cross street. “You guys run for cover under that overhang. If you’re moving fast, you can cover it in a few seconds, but not until I’m in position.”

  “How are you going to do that without getting shot at?”

  “By crawling. They probably won’t be able to see me. That Chevy’s front bumper is right up against the wall. The shade will provide the rest of my cover,” Joel said.

  Erik picked up one of our two M4’s and moved toward the door. “Once we’re across the street, I’ll get on the overhang. Should give me enough room to see over the roof. There may be some cover I can use. I’ll start looking for targets with the binoculars.”

  “If you put your head in the air, it’ll probably get shot off,” I said.

  “Nah. The roof doesn’t look like it’s flat. There’s got to be an access panel to get up there. If it’s high enough, I’ll use it for cover and shimmy over to,” Erik said. “If there isn’t any cover, we can try a different rooftop.”

  “Why don’t we just use the buildings as cover while we get the hell out of this area?” I asked.

  “Because we’re going to be sitting ducks every time we need to cross a road. Even if we move at random, or zig zag, a shooter will be able to find us. Even if we split up into smaller groups, it’s still too many people out in the open,” Joel said.

  “Shit. This is not good,” I muttered.

  “I guess I’ll stay with the ladies and help crack skulls,” Scott said.

  “This is the stupidest plan in the world,” I said.

  “You got something better, let’s hear it,” Joel said.

  “Yeah. Let’s wait here and kill anything that comes near us,” I said.

  “Take my binoculars and look at our eleven o’clock. Tell me what you see,” Erik said.

  I got out of the driver’s seat and moved to the rear of the bus. The buildings provided limited sight, but I was able to pick out movement a mile away. I adjusted the focus until the objects were clear.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I said.

  “What is it?” Anna asked.

  “Look.” I handed her the binoculars.

  “Is that—?” she started to ask.

  “Yeah. That’s about five thousand Zs, all heading our way,” I said.

  I stretched my legs while Joel and Erik got into position. Anna, Christy, Scott, and Katherine picked up weapons and spread out as they left the bus. They used the building as cover from the shooter, but if they ended up chasing a Z, it might put them out in the open.

  Joel gave Erik the thumbs up. He slid along the wall toward the sidewalk, and then went prone. He poked his head around the side, and then pulled back. When someone didn’t blow his noggin off, he crawled toward the Chevy.

  Erik hunkered down and motioned me to his side.

  “What’s the plan besides not dying?” I asked him.

  “I’ll go first,” he said. “I’m going to move fast. You follow when I’m across the street. But stay low. I figure that guy will have his scope following me. If he fires, and he’s using a bolt action, it will take a second for him to reload.”

  “What if it’s an AR?”

  “Then don’t stop,” Erik said.

  Joel’s legs stuck out around the side of the building as he cra
wled toward the Chevy. This would have been the perfect time to grab one and yell, “Gotcha!” I resisted the urge and, instead, put on my game face.

  Joel’s feet disappeared. I moved closer to the edge of the building but was angled enough to see he was still sliding along the sidewalk. He grunted once as he shimmied along the road, and then a fist sized rock flew over his shoulder because it must have been in his way, or he’d tried to Marine his way over the stone.

  “You guys ready?” Joel said just loud enough for us to hear.

  “You in position?” Erik asked.

  “Yep,” Joel answered.

  “I’m moving on three. I’ll count down,” Erik said.

  “Affirmative. On three,” Joel said.

  “This is going to suck,” I muttered.

  One. Two. Three,” Erik said.

  He broke into a sprint and was halfway across the street before I could take a breath. He ducked and juked, then sprinted full out. He just crossed the threshold of the building across the way when a shot rang out. Pavement exploded as the round made contact.

  I said a prayer, and then made the same run.

  I tried to sprint as fast as Erik, but he must have something in his legs or feet that made him a natural runner. I had never been anything like athletic and it showed. On my first step, I hit a rock and my foot turned. I about went down and let out a little gasp. I didn’t stick around long enough to see if I was in serious pain or had sprained my ankle again. Instead, I pistoned my arms and made it across the street as another blast rang out. I expected to feel something strike me but, instead, I almost ran into the wall.

  As I dove around the side of the boutique fashion store, a shot blew a chunk of plaster off the wall.

  Joel’s gun fired. I rolled to my back so I could see his position but he was completely obscured by the Chevy.

  The gun fired again.

  “Got him?” I yelled?

  Joel didn’t answer.

  “Don’t break his concentration,” Erik said.