The Slaughter - A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (ROT SERIES Book 6)

by Damon Hunter

  “I’m just letting you know he’s there, so he doesn’t surprise you later on.”

  “Thanks, let’s go.”

  Bo looked back to see the dog trotting their direction as Torrance kicked in the door.

  Bo followed him and did his best to shut the door behind them.

  “Take the kitchen and I’ll check the bedroom,” Torrance said.

  Bo nodded and moved to the kitchen. He saw two sets of keys on a hook right at the entrance. “I think I’ve got them,” he yelled back.

  He snatched them off the hook and looked at the keys. He saw they both had the Ford logo stamped on them. This was a problem since outside, a Jeep was in the driveway and a Honda was parked on the street.

  He met Torrance in the living room and said, “I think we have the wrong house.”

  “Why?”

  “Both keys say Ford and I’m pretty sure neither car out front is a Ford.”

  “Shit,” Torrance said. “Maybe the Jeep keys are somewhere else.”

  “Or a friend parked in the drive and they walked to the evacuation point together. The friend probably took his keys with him.”

  “Could be…” Torrance began as an infected German Shepard burst through the front window. Torrance spun and raised his gun but the dog was sinking its teeth into his thigh before he could get off a shot.

  Chapter 30

  Room 12 - The Goodyear Ramada Inn - Goodyear, Arizona

  “No,” Barrington yelled, even though he knew the vampire rotter would not listen. It grabbed him by the hair and started lifting his head towards its open mouth. He leaned back and kicked the infected maid as hard as he could in the stomach. He pushed as hard as he could with both feet as he pulled his head back. The vampire rotter had a handful of his greying hair as he pushed himself loose.

  He could see the gun was not far. He rolled to his stomach and lunged for it. The rotter jumped on his back and pinned him to the faded carpet before he could get his hand on the weapon.

  He was trapped under the infected maid. The gun was only inches away but he could not stretch any father. Barrington got a whiff of the rotter’s rancid breath as it brought its open mouth towards the exposed flesh on the back of his neck. A trio of shots rang out. He could still feel the vampire rotter on his back, but it’s hot breath was no longer tickling his neck.

  He looked over to see Ana holding a handgun. She had sat up, but was swaying back and forth as she aimed the pistol at the vampire rotter. It seemed the act of sitting up and firing the weapon had depleted all her energy. Given her condition, Barrington was surprised she had managed to do this much.

  The rotter leapt, but Ana found the strength to take aim and pull the trigger again. She put a bullet through its open mouth and the round exited through the back of the infected maid’s head. She fell dead next to the bed. Ana kept the gun on the dead rotter for a second before dropping the pistol and laying back down.

  Barrington stood and went to her, saying, “Thank you. You saved my life.”

  “You’re welcome. I was hoping maybe you could return the favor.”

  “I’m hoping I can,” he told her. If somehow they survived the blast and brought the needed supplies, he hoped he would have enough time. Goodyear had seemed deserted until just now, but if there were any more around, the sound of Ana’s gunshot would be bringing them their way.

  Chapter 31

  TMRT Transport - Quartzsite, Arizona

  All eyes were drawn to the first of one of the infected bursting through the window of the liquor store. The window was barred, so all the infected man inside could get out was his arm. Even though everyone was at least twenty yards away, he reached out as if he could grab someone and pull them to his open mouth, which was pressed against the bars. Sores grew and popped on his face as he tried to push his way through. The glass sliced his face. The green pus mixed with his blood as both fluids ran down his face and into his open mouth, where they mixed with the yellowish drool dripping off his blue lips.

  “Take care of him, Sergeant,” Starling commanded.

  The sergeant jogged to the window and jammed the the blade end of his Sick Slaying Stick through the infected man’s face. He gave it a hard twist and then pulled the blade free. The rotter slumped over and then slid slowly back into the liquor store.

  “Check the store, Sergeant,” Starling commanded.

  The sergeant peered inside. “Looks empty.”

  Starling was about to order them forward when the transport pilot said, “Sir, the dogs are up.”

  The helicopter gunner saw this too and did not waste any time. He fired down, taking out both dogs coming around the right side of the transport

  The voice of the co-pilot of the helicopter came into Starling’s earpiece and said, “You have two on the roof of the transport and the others coming around either side. We can’t shoot the ones on the transport.”

  Starling said to the four soldiers exposed in the road, “We have hostile canines, coming your way.”

  The sergeant turned to see what he thought was a Doberman leap from the top of the transport. He didn’t think it was possible that the dog could jump far enough to reach him, but the infection gave the animal an extra boost of strength. The sergeant started to raise the Sick Slaying Stick to defend himself as he realized the Doberman was going to easily reach him, but he was not quick enough. The dog hit him with an open mouth and sank two rows of sharp teeth into the sergeant’s shoulder.

  The nearest soldier to the other side of the transport was faster with his Sick Slaying Stick. He used the spiked ball to bash the rabid, infected poodle that leaped for his throat, sending it back to where it came from.

  While he was looking at the crushed body of the poodle, who had been white but was now a mosaic of blood and green pus, the German Shepherd on top of the transport leapt on top of him.

  The helicopter gunner shredded the other dog coming around the corner, but he could not do anything but hope the armor the men wore would deflect any bites, since he could not open fire without killing the men as well.

  Both of the other soldiers turned to help their friends, but Starling yelled to them, “You’ve got hostiles coming our way, use the gas.”

  One of the two turned to the road and took aim with the canister launcher while the other used his Sick Slaying Stick to bash in the brains of the German Shepherd tearing into the TMRT soldier on the ground. With the dog dead, he turned to help the other man, but the dog had left him and started running towards the open transport. The chopper gunner fired, but the Doberman was too fast. It was in the transport before he could put a bullet in it.

  While the lead soldier fired a canister in the middle of the amblers drawn by the gunfire, the other soldier followed the dog, hoping Starling and Donaldson could hold it off until he could get there to help.

  “Dickenson,” he heard a voice say from behind him. He glanced back to see the sergeant rise to his feet and pull his helmet off to expose his expanded jaw and yellow eyes. His chest was covered in blood. His body armor was no match for the dog’s mouth full of jagged teeth. Hearing the clearly infected sergeant say his name made Dickenson pause. He had heard rumors that some of the predator rotters could speak, but this was his first time seeing it for himself.

  Dickenson swung his Sick Slaying Stick at the sergeant as the newly infected vampire rotter lunged towards him. If he had acted right away, the infected sergeant would have taken a spiked steel ball to the temple, but Dickenson’s hesitation gave the rotter enough time to get a hand up and catch the Sick Slaying Stick before it could strike him. It pulled the weapon from Dickenson’s hands and tossed it away. Dickenson grabbed his pistol, but the vampire rotter was slamming him to the ground before he could get off a shot.

  The firearm bounced away as the sergeant tried to use his new teeth to tear through Dickenson’s body armor. Dickenson drew his knife and stabbed the infected soldier on top of him in the ribs. If it had been a man, the knife wound might have stoppe
d him, but the vampire rotter could not be deterred by anything but death. Dickenson pulled the blade free and drove the blade through the back of the Sergeant’s skull. Taking an eight inch shank of sharpened steel through the back of his head did not stop him, but the damage his brain took when Dickenson twisted the knife and pulled it free did.

  Dickenson pushed the dead rotter off of him and looked for bites. He was thinking he had survived when he looked up to see an infected Private Banner stumbling towards him. The gunner on the chopper put a bullet through the infected soldier’s head before it could get close.

  Dickenson turned to the transport. He could see Donaldson and Starling were both down and the infected dog was moving deeper inside. He drew his rifle and headed for the transport.

  In his headset he could hear the chopper pilot saying, “If you go inside, we can’t cover you.” Dickenson ignored him and went inside.

  Walker put another canister in his launcher as a large group of amblers began to melt in front of him. He had turned to aim into the center of the remaining infected still coming his way when he heard a loud thump to his right. He turned to see the bars on the window fall down as a vampire rotter burst out of the liquor store. He fired the canister, but the infected man ducked under and the poison gas sailed into the liquor store.

  Walker went for the trigger on his rifle. He didn’t think he was going to make it, but the helicopter gunner came through again, turning the vampire rotter into a pile of body parts as it jumped.

  He turned back to the approaching amblers and saw they were too close for him to load and fire the gas canister. He kept the rifle and fired as he backpedaled away.

  Dickenson stepped into the transport as an infected Donaldson sat up. The yellow eyes and popping sores rapidly growing on his face left no doubt. He double tapped Donaldson in the forehead and kept moving. He stepped inside and saw Starling sit up and scream as his jaw began to elongate and a new row of teeth pushed their way through his gums.

  He swung the gun and put the sights on his commander’s sore-covered face. As he pulled the trigger, the transport lurched hard to the left and instead of blowing Starling’s head off, he fired into the wall of the transport and stumbled back into the side.

  The dog came out of the front of the transport as Dickenson regained his balance. He could feel the transport still lurching hard to the left but he had to deal with the dog first. He fired his weapon and practically disintegrated the Doberman’s thin face. He swung the rifle back to where Starling was and saw he was gone. He knew the major was at his feet when he felt the bite on his ankle. He fired and put bullets into the back of vampire rotter Starling’s head until he stopped moving. The jaws of his former commander remained clamped on his ankle.

  He was trying to pry the dead major off his leg when he saw the transport’s driver come out of the cockpit. The transport itself was still rolling, heading off the road. Dickenson raised his weapon, thinking the infected transport driver was going to attack.

  The driver made no move for him and Dickenson knew why. He felt the sore growing on his head and his fears were confirmed. Starling had penetrated the body armor on his lower leg and infected him.

  He put the gun under his chin and got his finger on the trigger, but forgot why he wanted to blow his own brains out before he could squeeze the trigger. He dropped the rifle and turned to the outside of the transport, looking for someone to bite so he could spread the infection.

  Dickenson no longer knew who Walker was, all he knew was that he needed to sink his teeth into the man’s flesh. The transport was picking up speed, taking Dickenson farther away from his sole purpose. He moved toward the opening when the transport rolled into the gas station parking lot and plowed into the pumps.

  The impact of the transport to the structure providing shade over the pumps created a spark and the spark found its way to the fuel spraying from the pump. The transport was covered in flame as it kept rolling into the station itself.

  Walker stopped chasing the transport when it burst into flame. He saw the infected versions of Dickenson and the transport driver step off the moving transport. The fact that they were both on fire did nothing to deter them as they came at him. He raised his gun and alternated putting three round bursts into them until they fell.

  He looked back to see the infected were still gathering and heading his way and then watched the flaming transport plow throw the gas station. Before it came out the other side, the gas station was burning as well.

  “I need an evac,” he said into his headset.

  “I need to be clear of the fire,” the pilot said. “I’m putting this bird down on the other end of the street.”

  Walker watched the chopper lower itself to the spot near where they fired the first canister and ran towards it.

  Chapter 32

  The Ramada Inn - Goodyear, Arizona

  Vance stumbled out the front door as the three dogs reached the edge of the parking lot. He had been using the Sick Slaying Stick as a crutch, but did not like his chances of using the weapon on the three big dogs. He heard the gunshots from inside the hotel and knew every man or beast afflicted with the rot within earshot would already be headed their direction, so there was no reason not to use the rifle slung over his shoulder. Besides, he did not want to waste a second getting to Katelin.

  He dropped the Sick Slaying Stick and grabbed the rifle. As he brought the weapon to his shoulder, his foot on the end of his good leg stepped on the intestines of the mutilated corpse in front of the door. His body instinctively shifted his weight to the other leg. The injured leg could not support him and Vance went down, falling forwards. When his elbows struck the ground, the rifle left his grip and bounced into the parking lot.

  Vance looked up to see the lead dog, a Husky mix with thick fur that seemed out of place in the hot, dry climate in Arizona. It charged with an open mouth full of twisted, long fangs which even its oversized jaws seemed too small to contain. Vance went for the pistol at his side but even as he grabbed it, in his peripheral vision he could see the animal closing the distance fast. He could smell its rancid breath as he pulled the gun from the holster.

  He turned to get a close up of the thing’s jagged yellow teeth as it opened its mouth wide enough to engulf Vance’s head. Before the jaws could clamp down, a shot from the parking lot hit the animal and knocked it over. The dog rolled over and got back to its feet. The holes left on both sides of its bloody fur by the slug was only a temporary distraction from its single-minded desire to rip Vance apart.

  Vance saw the open mouth coming his way again, but the few seconds the shooter had given him was enough. Vance pulled the trigger on his own pistol and put bullets into the beast’s open mouth until it fell dead in front of him.

  Vance could see the next animal, a toy poodle with yellow eyes, coming over the top of the infected Husky’s shredded corpse. Another shot from the parking lot removed the small dog’s head before it could get near him.

  Vance looked over the two dead dogs to see Katelin with a pistol in each hand, killing the last dog, which had turned to attack her and Talbot when she fired on the lead dog. He looked past his daughter and could see more four-legged creatures heading their way. A smattering of people also came into view.

  Katelin looked back as she reached him. “It’s looks like most of people are gone but there are still a bunch of fucking dogs.”

  Vance took her hand, let her help him up, and said, “Language.”

  “Whatever,” she said as she left him standing and grabbed the Sick Slaying Stick and handed it to her dad. “Get inside, I’ll cover you.”

  Vance wanted to argue, but she had already picked up his rifle and dropped the nearest infected dog. Even if he could say something to convince her to get inside first, she wouldn’t hear him over the gunfire. Using the Sick Slaying Stick as a cane, he headed for the door.

  Dr. Talbot moved past them and entered the hotel. He was holding the door open for Vance. The way he was turn
ed meant he couldn’t see the amblers coming down the hall towards him.

  “Behind you,” Vance shouted.

  Talbot dropped the supplies and let go of the door. He drew the pistol and raised it just as the infected bellhop reached him. The ambler chomped down on his hand as he pulled the trigger. Talbot tried to pull away, but the infected bellhop kept his mouth clamped down. As the ambler dug his teeth deeper into Talbot’s flesh, he could no longer hold onto the gun.

  Talbot tried to push it away, but it held tight as an infected woman in a housekeeper’s uniform reached him and sank her teeth into his shoulder.

  Vance couldn’t draw his gun until he had opened the door, since he needed to keep a hand on the Sick Slaying Stick to keep his balance. Once inside, he fired and put a bullet through the skull of the ambler digging her teeth into Talbot’s shoulder. As she fell away, Vance was able to get a clear shot at the bellhop chewing on Talbot’s hand. He fired and his bullets striking the ambler in the chest let Talbot get his hand free. The doctor looked at his wound and slumped into a seated position on the floor as the realization of what had just happened hit him.

  Vance put the last ambler, this one looking like a guest instead of an employee of the hotel, in his sights, but when he pulled the trigger, no lead projectiles came out of the barrel. The infected man reached for Vance, who swung the empty gun and smacked the ambler across the temple. The blow knocked the infected man back a step but he kept moving forward.

  Vance leaned back against the door and raised the Sick Slaying Stick. He shoved the end of the weapon into the chest of the ambler, keeping it away from him. He hit the button on the side and released the blade. The mechanism shoved the blade clear through the ambler, but it still pushed, reaching and trying to grab Vance so it could pull him within biting range.

  Vance hit the button to pull the blade back into the stick and pushed as hard as he could against the infected man. The ambler stumbled backwards but immediately came forward. Vance put the end of the Sick Slaying Stick on its neck this time and hit the button again.