The Hungry (Book 6): The Rule of Three (The Sheriff Penny Miller Zombie Series)

by Booth, Steven W.

  Set like hulks of metal furniture among the teeming mass of triads and solo albinos, two armored vehicles squatted like large tanks with wheels instead of treads. They began to turn their enormous guns in the direction of the Land Shark. The soldiers saw them as a threat of course, and were just doing their job. The enemy was upon them, and they seemed to mean business.

  Miller swung the minigun around and aimed. Her stomach clenched at having to shoot her own kind again. “Get us the fuck out of here, Judy. We need to get over to the Triad’s main building. Neil? Talk to me!”

  “Working on it,” said Neil in her headset. “Wait one.”

  Miller didn’t know what the minigun would do to an armored car, but she figured if it had tires, perhaps she could at least blow them out. They were about to fire on the Land Shark either way, so time was running out. With no other good option, Miller squeezed the triggers. She opened up on them. Bright lines of tracer fire raced through the night.

  The tires of the first tank-car shredded obligingly. It sagged to the right before its weapons could fully turn. The Land Shark jerked forward and moved to the left, obscuring Miller’s next shot. Meanwhile the second tank-car brought its gun around and perfected its aim. The game was over.

  Miller dropped inside and closed the lid. “Brace for impact, people. We’re about to be fucked up the ass.”

  The armored vehicle fired. The first shell hit the back quarter of the aft section of the Land Shark. The huge trailer rocked precipitously, but held steady without flipping over. Somehow they kept rolling forward. They had to stop the rest of the planes, even if it meant their own deaths. Everyone aboard knew that.

  “Can’t this thing go any faster?” Miller demanded. She smelled smoke.

  “We’re almost there,” said Neil. “Hang on.”

  Miller noticed that Sheppard and Christa were fiddling with something. Sheppard stood up abruptly and moved toward Miller. He handed her an M-4. “It’s locked and loaded, Penny.”

  She took it and two magazines.

  Sheppard grinned. “Shit’s about to get real.”

  Miller smiled. She really wanted to ask, “As opposed to what?” but the cannon hit the truck again, and this time the aft section lurched to the left. More smoke rolled out of the control panel behind her. Electrical wiring popped and sizzled. Screens went dark. Fire was coming. They were going to fry in here if they didn’t escape soon.

  “There go our tires,” said Judy. She unbuckled herself. “Okay, everyone out.”

  “Are we at the Triad building?”

  “We’re fifty feet from the entrance. That’s the best I could do.”

  “We have one goal in the end,” Miller said, “and that is to stop those other bastards from flying out, one way or another. Good luck.”

  Sheppard stood beside Miller in the smoky cabin. He was wearing body armor and an old metal helmet. He held his rifle with a purpose. It was the first time in a long time that Sheppard reminded her of a real soldier. He’d been one, of course, but had perhaps almost forgotten those days. She wondered if they were going to die tonight and if she would ever see Scratch again.

  “Are we having fun yet, Penny?”

  Miller laughed. It was exactly what Terrill Lee would have said back in the day. “I’m having a blast.”

  Sally lowered the side hatch, and they all piled out into the evening. The air carried myriad scents; decomp, burning wood and metal, smoke, human waste and blood, cordite, and expended fuel. The tank-car fired another shot, and this one went completely through the Land Shark’s aft section, leaving a huge gaping hole. They had moved out just in time. They weren’t going anywhere in that vehicle any time soon.

  At the end of the runway the other planes were turning to form up.

  “Run,” Miller shouted. “Find bigger weapons or a jeep or some way to stop those bastards.”

  Taking the lead, she headed for the building, focused on the blown-out entrance where the lobby had once been. It wasn’t far, but the space between was filled with smoke and wandering zombies. Jesus, there were so many. Miller had faced this kind of thing before, but it was always terrifying. They ran and ran, firing and crouching and trying to cover one another.

  The lights were on inside the lobby, but they flickered out and then came back up just as Miller and her small team ran inside. There were vehicles on the other side of the lobby. She could see them through the glass, military jeeps, likely with keys in the ignition or right under the mat. There was only one problem.

  The lobby was filled with zombies. Dozens, all packed together like canned sausages, wiggling and grunting. It was like a multi-level marketing convention of the undead; shredded clothing and torn flesh, thick blood and shattered bone, bodies with their insides out. The lurid colors and shapes ran together like runny watercolor paint dripping down a red tinged canvas. The room reeked of death and that familiar sound was everywhere. Unhh hunhh hunh…

  The zombies turned in their direction and several of them approached, arms raised, mouths gaping wide.

  Uhh-hunnhhh-huuhhh.

  Someone put something in Miller’s hand.

  “On three,” Sheppard said. She looked down and realized she now held a fragmentation grenade. Sheppard had one in his hand as well. As good plan as any, Miller thought, he is on his toes again.

  “Hold up there, cowboy.” Miller took aim and shot down the two closest zombies. She shouted: “Anyone alive in here? We’re going to blow this place to shredded wheat. We have to get to those jeeps.”

  “Wait!” They heard a voice from the center of the lobby. “Help me!”

  “Find some cover and stay flat! We’ll be coming for you.” Miller turned to the others. “Okay, grenades on three. Left and right only. Let’s try not to kill that poor bastard in the middle.”

  Neil and Sally were ready. Christa and Judy just stared numbly at the huge armada of the undead, looking a bit dazed. The sight did take some getting used to, but Miller had almost forgotten that after so many battles. Apparently, this was Christa’s first introduction to the smell. She vomited violently to the side and splattered her own boots.

  “Hold it together, Christa,” said Miller. “We only have a few minutes to stop those damned planes. All right, guys. On three. One. Two.” She pulled the pin on hers, and let the spoon flip off the grenade. She had about five seconds to detonation. “Three!”

  It came together well. Four grenades flew in graceful arcs over the heads of the first line of zombies. Miller and the others automatically ducked down to avoid the coming shrapnel. Everyone was safe and smart… Except for Judy. She just stood there with her nose primly pinched and watched for fireworks like some little kid on the 4th of July. Something in her mind seemed to just click off.

  Sheppard and Miller reached up together and pulled her down by the wrists just as the first grenade went off with a shower of hot metal. The rest followed in quick succession. The sound of the explosions, one after the other, hurt their ears. The zombies flew apart like undead piñatas at a birthday party. Miller watched with no small measure of satisfaction. Her mental clock was still ticking. They had to find a way to stop those planes.

  One zombie, a chunky cop in a summer uniform, was thrown high into the air, chopped into three parts, his torso abruptly missing any lower extremities. Trailing guts and splattering blood, the unfortunate policeman landed squarely on Sally, where it started snapping its teeth at her tasty flesh. She reflexively shoved the torso off but the zombie was too fast. It managed to bite her at the base of her neck. Sally shrieked in pain, and the blood flowed. She was a goner.

  “Son of a bitch!” Sally cried. She turned in rage to shoot the thing in the head. Her shot went clean through its head with a perfect brain shot, out the other side, and hit a startled Neil directly in his Kevlar vest. He was knocked back into a pile of writhing zombie parts. He lay there in the gore, stunned for a moment, but still alive.

  Miller reached over and pulled the rest of the defunct zombie
off of Sally. She stomped the head flat and kicked the parts away. She knelt down quickly. She could tell that Sally had only a few seconds left before she turned.

  “I can feel it inside me,” Sally said with terrified eyes, gripping her neck wound. “I can feel it!”

  Christa stood nearby, horrified and paralyzed by the sight. Meanwhile, Judy’s expression was still blank, and could have been read as either total indifference or sad disbelief. At least Sheppard was paying attention. He was busily shooting any approaching zombies. “Penny? Now is not a good time for a memorial service. Those planes are going to be turned soon. We’ve got things to do.”

  Miller knew Sheppard was being practical, but the remark came out sounding ice cold. She shot Sheppard a warning look.

  “Help me,” Sally whispered, but her eyes were already starting to change.

  “I’m sorry, Sally.” Miller aimed her weapon at Sally’s head.

  “No!” Neil stopped struggled to get to his feet in the slimy, smelly puddle of zombie guts. Instead he tried to bring his own weapon around to aim at Miller. “You can’t just kill her like that.”

  Uhhh-huuunnhhh-huuuuhhn.

  It was too late. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Sally’s eyes had turned white, and she let go of the wound in her shoulder. It was no longer pumping blood. The zombie who was once Sally then surprised Miller by not rushing her. Instead, it turned and grabbed Neil by the ankle. She opened shark-wide and brought her mouth close to Neil’s booted foot. Sally was gone, replaced by a mindless carnivore.

  Miller didn’t hesitate this time. She found an angle that wouldn’t risk hitting Neil and fired two quick shots into Sally’s exposed head. Sally collapsed. Neil vomited this time, right into the gory pile beneath him. Miller knew she had to take charge in a big way and snap these people the hell out of their panicked state. The planes. The planes.

  “Help him up,” Miller ordered Christa and Judy. She turned back and began taking down the few zombies that were left, and were busy flanking them. After the grenade attack, which had bought them some time, only about a dozen zombies were still in operation, though more would surely be coming. It didn’t take long for Miller and Sheppard to mop up the immediate area. They stood panting, reloading, and exchanging worried looks. Sheppard nodded for Miller to turn around and check on her remaining troops. Smoke filled the air and the stench of decomp was overpowering. The jeeps still seemed like their best option. Perhaps they could race across the tarmac and block the runway with vehicles and shoot anyone who tried to get out and move them. That would at least buy the world some time.

  Miller turned to see Neil on his feet. He was covered in zombie guts and Sally’s blood, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Christa looked stricken. Judy checked the load on her rifle. She had yet to even fire it. She had frozen up like a rookie.

  “Hey, you in the middle?” Miller squinted through the haze at a man trying to get to his feet, the one who had called for help. He moved like a scared human being so she lowered her weapon. “We didn’t kill you by accident, did we?”

  “No. I’m okay.” He stood up. Miller recognized him immediately. It was the receptionist, Lankford, the one who had helped her, Judy, and Piper to escape the base in business suits.

  Miller made her way towards him, stepping over pools of blood and shredded zombie bits. She could hear footsteps behind her. The others were following a few feet back like obedient soldiers. She was in command again, and knew she had to make some smart moves and quickly. She looked through the glass window. The first plane had failed at the turn and was inching backwards at an angle, trying to get set for takeoff. Sheppard caught Miller’s eye and shook his head.

  “We’ll never make it out there in time, Penny. We’re going to have to take another approach.”

  Miller knew he was right. She changed gears. “Lankford, Crespi says Happy Birthday.”

  “You?”

  “You seem surprised to see us again.”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” The soldier paused to reconsider his remark and opted to get right to the point. “Look, please get me the hell out of here, Sheriff!”

  Miller rested her rifle on her hip. “We have one more thing to do first, and then you can come with us, providing you’ll man up and fight. We have to stop those planes. Do you know where our other people are?”

  “What? No. I have no idea. I just work for Crespi.”

  Miller exchanged a glance with Sheppard. He shrugged.

  “Okay, if you help us find Crespi and fight if I need you to, we’ll let you live. We need him to find a way to stop or divert those planes.”

  Lankford stared. Miller read him as trying to make up some bullshit, but then going for the absolute truth because his life was on the line. “I don’t know where he is, either, Sheriff! He’s probably been evacuated by now.”

  “Then this is not your lucky day,” Miller said. She brought the rifle around to point it at Lankford. The others did the same. The man almost wet his pants. He raised his hands and babbled.

  “All right, all right, please don’t shoot me. At least I can help you look for Crespi. But I really am not positive where he would be.”

  “Well, let’s start with his own damn office, shall we? And then we’ll just work our way down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  1 hour, 18 minutes to Stage Three (10:42pm)

  McDivitt fired and the lead plane became a white ball of flame and smoke. They all whooped for joy. Scratch said, “Can any of the others get around him to fly out?”

  “I think we’re about to make sure that doesn’t happen,” McDivitt said.

  Rolf got a training program going, how to launch the drone and handle the takeoff and landing. Sunita seemed to take to it right away and moved along to one on arming the weapons. Jimmy struggled to keep up. Scratch could see he was a smart kid, but still a little unsure, despite the constant bravado. He knew Jimmy could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean he knew it all. Jimmy reminded Scratch of himself, ready for everything, knowing nothing. He’d never be quite as reckless and heroic again. Jimmy was a teenaged boy with a chip on his shoulder the size of Catalina. Damn, that was a good age.

  Rolf tapped Scratch on the shoulder. “Are you ready, Friend Scratch?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m ready. Any idea what we’re up against?”

  The kids quietly trained each other. McDivitt targeted the next plane and gave them instructions for how to target zombie hordes safely. Meanwhile, Rolf went to the door and put his palm flat on it. He paused for a moment, eyes closed. He opened them and looked deeply into Scratch’s eyes. Scratch tried to hold the stare, but ultimately couldn’t take the intensity. Insanity was just a heartbeat away with this good old soldier, the man with the zombie finger around his neck; old Rolf with his crazy, broken heart. There was always something weird going on in there.

  “There are a few stray zombies out there, and when we start making noise, they will head this way. Most are albinos, so be careful with your shots, go for the brain stem in every case. Another huge battle is coming. But that’s not my main worry. Once we launch the drones, the humans left alive will realize we are hiding in here, and they will try to stop us. They will hit this building with whatever weaponry they can muster. The zombies are secondary, Scratch. The biggest threat to the survival of these children is Dr. Charlotte Williams and her followers. They must now command our attention.”

  “Maybe they won’t even try to stop us. Maybe the soldiers out there will realize we’re the good guys.”

  Rolf smiled. It was the puzzled smile of a baby learning to laugh. Scratch tried not to let the vacant eyes creep him out. “We are the good guys true enough, but they won’t see it that way. Most are bought and paid for and stand to be convicted of terrible crimes if they do not win tonight. Motivations like survival are difficult to change.”

  “Penny won’t like it if we end up killing the living,” Scratch said.

  “This is true.”


  “So it’s a damned good thing she’s not here to see it.” Scratch raised his rifle and pulled the slide halfway back to check the load. “Do whatever you have to do to win. How much longer before the albinos show up outside?”

  Uhh-huuuhhh-huhhhnnn!

  They all heard something scratching on the bolted door, only one at first but then two or three and four and five. Rolf said nothing, just smiled again. Scratch shook his head. “How the ever loving mother fuck do you do that? Is it from chewing on that zombie finger all this time?”

  McDivitt whispered to the children to follow orders and keep working. Scratch glanced at the television screens. Explosions rocked the base outside. Planes on the runaway vanished. McDivitt’s drone was doing its job.

  Suddenly Rolf’s attention went elsewhere. His personality changed. “Walter, how are we coming with getting those other birds airborne?” He sounded like a man used to authority again, not at all like the same crazy bastard. “We need those other eyes in the sky five minutes ago.”

  “The other six Predators are online and spinning up. System checks all green. The other end of the runway was already blocked with a shitload of debris and now someone with real talent just blew up that lead plane.” McDivitt turned his chair to face Scratch. “I’m guessing that’s probably Sheriff Miller who got the other end earlier, Scratch. And now we have them in a vise. Looks like you may see her again after all.” McDivitt spun around. He hunched over the console and turned a knob on a display of some kind. “The taxiways are open and clear of debris. Follow my lead, kids. We’ll launch from there. Give us another couple of minutes, Rolf.”

  “Very good, Walter. Carry on.” Rolf walked over to Scratch. He leaned in close and whispered, “The spring always brings the brightest flowers. Don’t you agree?” His breath reeked of something foul. His eyes fluttered. He was definitely surfing in Nebraska again. Scratch just looked back blankly. He had no idea what Rolf was talking about. “I couldn’t agree more, Rolf.”

  Rolf clapped him on the shoulder. “You are a good liar, my friend.” Rolf picked up his rifle and went to the door. The officer was back. “You take the right—I know you favor that side. Hold your fire until I give you the word. Are we clear, soldier?”