Torn Apart (Book 1): Terror In Texas

by Hoaks, C. A.

  “It better be,” Ryder growled.

  Harry shifted the bike into gear and he accelerated.

  Ryder tossed a beer bottle at them as they pulled away. The glass shattered only a few feet from Harry and Liz as the bike roared by. The assemblage of bikers took their time. Beers were passed around as the riders moved out.

  Ryder dropped back to carouse with his cronies. They had started drinking around ten that morning and even forgone lunch for more beer and a couple bottles of JD. Ryder yelled something in their direction that Liz didn’t catch but felt the hair on the back of her neck raise.

  Harry cranked the bike and eased further ahead with John close on his heels. “All those loud mufflers are drawing all kinds of attention,” Harry commented.

  They passed houses and monsters appeared in the yards. It was easy to see they were being drawn by the sound of the motorcycles. More and more appeared from around buildings and out of doorways. Those trapped in stalled vehicles turned toward the sound, all reaching out and gnashing teeth.

  The gang’s interest in John and Harry faded as they consumed more and more beer. Ryder was handed another bottle after tossing an empty bottle. Bottles tossed against road signs sound like shots from handguns. Laughter boomed above the sound of the motorcycles. More bottles sailed from drunken riders.

  Liz glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Ryder hurl a bottle at a monster amid a cluster of his brethren. The bottle hit the monster in the side of the head and the gang exploded in celebration. They were less a mile from the overpass, when Harry accelerated.

  Liz yelled into the mic. “No one is paying attention to us. Keep going!”

  The gang was drunk and Liz ducked lower against Harry as she waited for the impact of a bullet from Ryder’s gun when he noticed they were pulling ahead of the pack.

  “Now!” Harry yelled at John then gunned the engine.

  The bikes vaulted forward and raced toward the overpass leaving the gang behind still tossing bottles at random targets. Harry and John didn’t wait to see how soon the gang noticed. Liz watched the roadside flash by. John matched the pace without giving a hint of easing up on the throttle.

  A sudden clank of metal and the report of gunfire made Liz duck. She looked back to see guns pointed at them. Another shot whizzed by and she screamed.

  “They’re shooting at us!”

  “Hang on!” Harry yelled back and opened the bike up with a deafening roar of the oversized motor. John matched the action. Together they pulled away quickly and began the gradual turn toward the overpass.

  Liz felt the back wheel on the left rise from the ground and she clutched Harry tighter. He made a guttural sound that was a cross between a laugh and grunt of strain.

  Shots echoed in the distance while the closest bikes accelerated to a crazy pace considering how drunken most of the men were. Liz watched as they barreled after them, all the while firing wild shots. More of the infected were drawn toward them as the cacophony of roaring engines and gunfire grew.

  Harry dodged an infected and screamed into the mic in his helmet. “John! First cross street! Take a right!”

  John’s bike raced through the underpass with Harry at his back fender. Both men braked. Liz was thrown into Harry’s back then momentum pitched her to the left. If not for Harry grabbing a handful of the leather, she would have fallen from her perch on the back of the bike. Harry pushed her back onto the seat then accelerated again. They raced away from the overpass and the trailer.

  Liz looked back at the cross street and saw what could only be described as a cluster-fuck of epic proportion. The first bikes flew through the underpass into dozens of the undead that had appeared around the disabled trailer and overpass at the trio’s passing. Unable to see what lay ahead, the rear bikes slammed into the riders being attacked by the infected. More and more of the monsters stumbled toward the twenty or so bikers fighting for their lives. Motorcycles were knocked over riders were drug from the bikes as the infected overwhelmed the gang.

  Harry turned around the corner of a large building and eased up on the accelerator. He and John slowed the bikes. They rode to the end of the business complex, turned a corner and then headed back to the west away from the road. They moved the bikes into the parking lot of a lumber yard and eased around the back of a storage area. Harry killed the motor and John followed suit.

  The quiet around them was deafening. They could still hear shots and screams in the distance. Both men pulled off their helmets.

  “That was bad,” Liz commented as she pulled the helmet from her head. She took a minute to describe what she had seen. “We’ll never get back through the underpass. Riders were pulled from their bikes and the ones behind them ran into the bikes and bodies.”

  Harry shrugged. “They deserved what they got.”

  “We gotta find a way to get outta this town and away from Ryder. That is if any of them survived. They were drinking pretty heavy.” John chuckled. “Fucking assholes got.”

  Harry pulled a map from his pocket. He opened it and studied the colored lines. “We can go north on this farm-to-market road for about forty miles then head back west. I think we need to wait until tomorrow.” He ignored Liz’s look of frustration. “I doubt we have much left in supplies and we need to locate some weapons.”

  John searched the saddle bags on either side of his bike then opened the storage unit behind the seat. “Empty. I got nothing.”

  Harry stepped off his bike and flipped open his bike’s saddlebags. He grunted then opened his own storage compartment. “Sons-a-bitches didn’t leave us anything. We have to find weapons and supplies before we leave this Podunk town.”

  “They were going to kill us,” Liz asked in a hesitant voice.

  “Probably,” Harry answered flatly. “They just wanted to make sure we were telling the truth about the trailer. It was the only reason we were still riding.”

  The two men pushed the bikes into the shadow of a storage rack and listened to the sound of gunfire in the distance. Gradually the shooting became more sporadic. Then they heard a dozen single shots then silence.

  “Do you think any of them survived?” Liz asked.

  Harry shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but I imagine so. I think someone was putting down the injured.”

  They stood in the shade and listened. The firing stopped and then the sound of motorcycles rumbled to life and faded into silence.

  John stepped closer. “We need to find some weapons.”

  Liz looked toward the lumberyard. “Maybe we can find something in there.”

  Harry led them toward the darkened building. They found an open, door used by employees to access the storage area. As they got closer, they found a stack of construction scraps. Harry and John both picked up pieces of two by fours and Liz picked up a piece of rebar.

  Liz noticed only the emergency lights were on in the building when the trio crossed the garden area and stepped into the main building. It was not a chain store so merchandise cluttered the isles. Liz considered a display that she was passing and stopped. She studied the four inch cylindrical tubes in a display then picked one up and pushed a soft rubber switch at the bottom. A light flicked on. Both men stopped and she tossed each of them flashlights and stuffed the remaining three in her back pocket.

  John stepped closer to the garden tools and came back with three machetes. He tore open the plastic and pulled the first one free. He used the sharpened edge to quickly open the second two. With everyone armed with clubbing weapons and blades, they made their way deeper into the gloom.

  Harry picked up a canvas utility bag and walked over to a drink machine. He pulled water bottles from the shelves.

  “Do you think they have a break room?” Liz asked as she stuffed bags of peanuts from a countertop display into her pockets. “Could be food there, if they have a break room.”

  Harry shrugged. “John, find some crowbars or hatchets.” He hesitated a moment then added. “Liz, we’ll look for a break room
in the back.”

  John headed off into the dark and Harry whispered. “Watch your ass!”

  Harry and Liz headed toward a hardware display. They froze in place when they heard the first moan. It was distant and a pitiful sound. Liz imagined it a keening of loss and pain. The companion sound that followed was angry and dangerous.

  “John!” Harry called out. “Out of here, now!”

  Steps could be heard stumbling toward them. John called out. “We got company and he looks pissed. Time to move. Fast.”

  Harry grabbed Liz’s arm and turned her toward the garden center. He started running and nearly pulled Liz into an infected man covered in blood from the neck down. Harry elbowed Liz out of the way and swung the canvas bag of water bottles knocking the monster off his feet.

  He swung the machete with one hand connecting with the side of the infected man’s head peeling an ear and a connected flap of skin from his skull. The monster righted itself and reached for Harry, still struggling to recover his own footing.

  Liz grabbed the machete from the scabbard at her waist and raised the blade in a two handed swing and chopped off both of the man’s arms just below the elbows. The arms fell to the floor with a wet splat. The monster, ignoring the loss, raised his stumps and focused hungry eyes on Liz.

  Before Liz could act, Harry cleaved the man’s head open. Harry caught her by her arm and held her still for a moment. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I could have finished the job.” Liz responded. “It’s just...well.” Finally, she shrugged and fell silent.

  John caught up just as they jogged through the garden center. “That was ugly. I had to take out the cashier in the break room.” John caught up and continued. “Her legs below the knees were eaten clear to the bone. The rest of her was big as a brood sow carrying a litter.”

  Harry glanced over his shoulder at John and commented. “Better pick up the pace, old man. Customer service is heading our way.”

  Harry hopped on his bike and pulled Liz up behind him then cranked the engine. He eased forward while John got his bike started and began moving. They put helmets on and led a following of infected as they pulled away. After the first two blocks, they lost sight of their pursuers when they turned around a corner and made their way back out on a main street heading back through town.

  “Keep an eye out for a place to pick up some guns,” Harry ordered.

  Chapter 23

  Silent Night

  Steve debated about removing his prosthetics, but in the end didn’t trust the safety of the barn enough to make himself that vulnerable. The barn was sweltering despite the sun setting. Della and the girls pulled bedding from the camper to take advantage of a hint of a breeze.

  Jimmy and Zack arranged bales of hay at the back of the camper as makeshift beds. Della and the girls cleaned up from their meal then spread bedding on the bales. They sat around the dim glow of the lamp speaking softly.

  Martha glanced over her shoulder at Steve and Zack working on the van. “Why do we have to stay here? There’re people over there. They have lights and running water.”

  Della sighed. “We don’t know who they are.”

  “Why does it matter? People are people.” Martha argued.

  Della stood up and looked down at Martha. “You need to understand the world is different than it was. There’s no one left from the military base to contain the infection. Not everyone will be out here helping each other. We can’t take a chance.”

  Martha eyes filled with unshed tears. “Mathew was on the base.”

  “I’m sorry,” Della whispered. “But we have to be realistic.”

  Martha jumped to her feet and ran to the ladder leading up to the hayloft. She scrambled up and when Jimmy started to follow, she turned a screamed. “All of you! Just leave me alone.”

  They could all hear her crying in the dark. Finally, Della asked. “Who is Mathew?”

  Sandy answered. “Her fiancé. They just got engaged last week.”

  Martha refused to come down from the loft despite attempts at talking to her by both Jimmy and Della. Cloaked in the gloom of the barn and with only the sound of Martha’s muffled sobs overhead, Steve and Zack went back to the van and began the task of removing the wheelchair ramp.

  “Damned thing is just too slow. Besides, using a wheelchair is a death warrant now.” Steve commented.

  Zack opened the toolbox and found wrenches. After looking around, he pulled out two pins that anchored the aluminum ramp extension to the lift mechanism. Once the extension section was out of the way, Zack held up his hand. He used a flashlight to look under the van, around the floor by the door and then back under the van again.

  Finally, he stood grinning at Steve. “This won’t be bad as I thought. The unit is designed to fit in the van without modifying the vehicle. I think we can remove the rest of the unit by taking off two plates on the undercarriage and then the assembly at the door.”

  Steve and Zack worked late into the night disassembling the hydraulic system from the van. It was a tough job with the limited tools available. After a brief discussion, they left the electronic close mechanism on the side door but disconnecting the safety that would cause the door to reopen if obstructed.

  “A punch of the button and it’ll close, no matter what,” Steve warned as he glanced toward the hay loft. “I hope she’s alright.”

  Zack glanced toward the loft. “I guess she hadn’t figured it out.”

  “It may be a while before any of us know about families if ever.” Steve wiped moisture from his face with a rag and shrugged. “Time to get some rest. We need to get outta here first thing in the morning.” He glanced toward the back of the barn. “I think I heard screams a few minutes ago from the buildings back there.”

  Zack shrugged. “I’ll wake Jimmy and he can keep an eye on them.”

  Steve nodded and went to lie down on a couple bales of hay. “Tell him to wake us if any lights head this way. Otherwise, stay in the barn.”

  The first rays of sunlight turned the darkened interior of the barn into a gray gloom. Della and Steve were the first to wake. When Jimmy heard the conversation near the camper, he came down from the back of the loft to speak to Steve.

  Jimmy whispered. “It’s quiet now, but people were screaming and crying over there last night. I told Della and she found binoculars and I saw they have guards posted that don’t look real friendly. Something isn’t right over there.”

  Steve nodded. “Then we need to get out of here. Go wake up Martha then get down here. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

  Della rousted Sandy with a gentle nudge. “Get up and pack up as quickly as possible. Be very quiet.”

  Suddenly Jimmy scurried down the ladder gasping for breath. “There!” He pointed up to the open door at the apex of the roof. With the fading of night and the glow of dawn dawning, they all could see the silhouette of a body hanging from a rope. The rays of the rising sun glistened off Martha’s copper hair. Her body moved with the slight breeze of morning.

  Della yelped then slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God...oh my God.” She whispered under her breath.

  Sandy looked up and screamed. The sound shattered the quiet of dawn with a long piercing shriek. She kept up the screech until Zack slapped his hand over her mouth and pulled her into his arms. There was no way the sound could be mistaken for an animal.

  “Shit!” Steve cursed.

  “You have to be quiet,” Zack whispered. “Please, Sandy. You have to be quiet.”

  “Do you think they heard?” Della whispered.

  “We can’t wait to see. Throw what you can in the van.” Steve ordered. “Zack, get Sandy in then help Jimmy, open the door!”

  Della balled up bedding and threw it in the back of the van. Steve threw camp supplies on a blanket and gathered up the corners into a knot. He pulled the bundle toward the van while Zack pushed Sandy inside and into a seat. Once Zack had belted her in, he pulled the bundle from Steve and then went back to the
camper to pick up the last box of supplies.

  Zack shoved the blanket full of provisions inside the van and called out as he lumbered off toward the door. “I got it. Come on Della!”

  Della jumped into the passenger seat.

  Zack and Jimmy raised the board from the door and Zack tossed it aside. Jimmy pushed against the right door and Zack took on the left. Jimmy’s door pushed open easily enough until it caught on a clump of weeds. Jimmy struggled a moment, then a splinter of wood whizzed past his face. The rifle report echoed as the sound of the van engine roared to life. Light streamed in the open barn from the back of the structure as a door was opened.

  Zack charged against the left side door and slammed it back against the wall. Steve accelerated toward the door as Zack ran across the entrance to help Jimmy. The doo lodged open and they turned toward approaching van.

  The front of the vehicle reached the entrance and Steve slowed enough for Zack to dive into the van with Jimmy close on his heels.

  Zack turned to pull Jimmy into the van. With a determined grimace, Jimmy reached out and raised his right foot to leap. Zack grabbed his out-stretched hand just as Jimmy stumbled. His left foot was anchored to the ground, caught on something. He yelped and looked back to see a beaten and bludgeoned infected woman clutching his leg.

  Zack called out. “I got ya’” Zack wrapped his massive hand around Jimmy’s right wrist and pulled. “I won’t let go.”

  Jimmy fell to the ground with Zack still clinging to his wrist. He kicked at the claw-like hand still clinging to his pants while being drug along.

  “Stop!” Della screamed. “Oh God!”

  The ping of a bullet hitting metal and report of a rifle echoed from the back of the barn. Three men clambered over the pile of hay bales with raised rifles.

  Steve slammed on the breaks and stuck the handgun out the side window. He squeezed off three quick shots at the men.