Wheels and Zombies (Book 4): Wheels' End

by M. Van

  “Please, please, please,” I started to whisper as I eased the curtain covering the small window in the backdoor. The window gave a partial view of the garage door and a side door—both stood open.

  A trail of blood started inside the garage and colored the white pebbles, decorating the drive a crimson red. A shoe I didn’t recognize lay halfway up the trail, but I couldn’t see a body. Another blood trail led to the back door, but again I didn’t detect any movement.

  I had to expect the worst and told myself to do so, but that tiny flicker of hope that still lived inside me couldn’t draw the curtain close. In my mind, I knew the chances for Mr. and Mrs. Marsden to come out of this unscathed were nonexistent, but my heart told me I might be able to help. After all, the zombies wouldn’t come after me; I might be able to help.

  From out of nowhere, a body slammed into the door, cracking the window and pulling me from my futile thoughts. Miller’s bloodied face pressed against the glass with eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. Blood gushed from a deep gash in his neck as he pounded a fist against the wooden frame of the door.

  “Let me in,” he shouted. “Let me in!” Footsteps came up behind me.

  “Let him in,” Luke said as he pulled the curtain open more widely and gasped. Releasing the curtain, he took a few steps back and sounded as if he were clearing his throat. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him standing bent forward with a hand over his mouth.

  “Tell me you have seen this before,” I said in a harsh tone. Luke nodded.

  “Just not this up close,” he said.

  “So you know we can’t help them.”

  He nodded again without the reply.

  Shifting the curtain, I returned my gaze outside. Miller had disappeared from sight, although I heard an eerie scratching sound at the bottom of the door. A woman stumbled into view as she exited the garage. Her feet shifted on the gravel, and she slowly turned as if she were finding her bearings. The back of her dress was torn and hung loosely off her body. Her gaze shifted to the house as her head tilted backward, and she sniffed the air. It wasn’t Mrs. Marsden, but I recognized Mrs. Johansson, one of the friends who had followed Mrs. Marsden inside the garage. As a low growl exited her throat and my peripheral vision caught some additional movement behind her, I dropped the curtain. I didn’t have to see the Marsdens to know what had happened to them, and I preferred to keep them in my memory as they were.

  I turned to find Luke, and I found him still standing by the table. My eyes took him in and then veered to his sides and the kitchen floor.

  “Where’s Rowdy?” I pulled back from the door and swirled around. As I passed the kitchen table, I shot Luke a look. “Don’t open that door!”

  “As if,” I heard him say just before I entered the living room. My heart stopped at the sight of the empty room.

  “Rowdy,” I said while I rolled around the couch, “where are you, little man?” My voice wavered, and my breathing was heavy as I heard a small whimper. I spotted Rowdy hiding underneath the coffee table.

  “Hey, little man,” I said in a soft voice, trying to coax him out, “you can come out now.” He hesitated, looking up at me from underneath the table, and my heart broke at the sight of his tear-streaked face. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  He crawled out from under the table and straight into my lap. Arms wrapped around my neck, and his body shook as he started to cry again.

  “It’s okay,” I said in an attempt to comfort him, but I knew that it was anything but okay. Patting Rowdy’s back, I called for Luke. He stepped into the living room, looking a little less green then he had before.

  “What?”

  “I need you to check the downstairs windows,” I said. “Make sure they’re all closed. We can’t let them smell you.” He nodded and started to move.

  “I’ve got one dead elderly woman lying in the drive,” he said as he went from window to window. “That agent from the back door is now lumbering across the front lawn.”

  As Luke left the room, it went quiet for a while except for Rowdy’s whimpers. The little guy’s agony brought tears to my eyes. As I wiped my eyes with the palm of my hand, I stared at the door. A strange combination of fear that zombies would break it open and snatch Rowdy from my arms and the futile hope that Mars would come bursting through at any second kept me frozen in place. That and the fact that I didn’t know what to do.

  “Dammit,” I said under my breath. Mars had gone back to Monterey Regional Airport, and I wouldn’t be able to count on him, but I should know what to do: I’d been in situations like this before. On my lap Rowdy stirred and looked up at me in shock.

  “You said a bad word,” he said, barely audibly.

  “I know, kiddo. I’m sorry,” I said, matching his tone of voice and wiped at the tears rolling down his cheeks. His face was a mess of tears and snot, and I rolled us to the couch to set him down when Luke came back into the room.

  “I’ve checked the entrances and the windows; all are closed. From what I can tell, there is only the one body, one person is roaming around the house, and that could mean five are on the move. We need to call this in.”

  “Phone is in the kitchen,” I said. “You need to press zero for an operator.” Ever since the outbreak, phone use had been restricted. If you wanted to make a call, then you had to get permission through an operator. It was as if the country had regressed back to the nineteen fifties.

  I spotted the stuffed panda bear on the floor and picked it up. Rowdy crawled into the corner of the couch, and I handed him the stuffed animal.

  “Here you go, buddy,” I said. “Hang on to Pan. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, sounding worried.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen for a second and be right back,” I replied. “You can see from here, okay?” Rowdy nodded reluctantly, and I took the opportunity to leave him.

  Luke was already on the phone and tapped an impatient foot on the floor. I grabbed some paper towels and a glass of water.

  “See if you can contact Mars,” I said as I rolled past Luke to make my way back into the living room. He nodded slowly as his eyes went wide, and he pointed at the phone. It usually took a while to get through, but still I hurried to get back to Rowdy. If Luke managed to get Mars on the phone, then I would have to talk to him myself. I wished I didn’t have to do this on the phone, but I wanted him to hear about his parents from someone familiar, and unfortunately, that would be me.

  I swallowed hard at the memory of Mr. and Mrs. Marsden, but I couldn’t change what had happened, and I needed to focus on what was to come.

  Rowdy took a few swallows from the glass of water that I handed him before I started to wipe at the snot and tears that coated his face.

  He looked up at me with those big eyes as he asked in a small voice, “When are Grandma and Grandpa getting home?”

  I held his gaze for a moment but had difficulties forming the words. Mr. Marsden had been in the garage for a while. Rowdy must have thought he had gone out, and I guessed he hadn’t heard Mrs. Marsden come home. How was I supposed to tell a child that his grandparents had turned into zombies?

  “I don’t know, kiddo,” I said, opting for the easy way out, “but see Luke over there?” I pointed at Luke who seemed to be in a heated conversation on the phone. He looked a lot more freaked out than he had before, and I hoped he’d be able to keep it together. It hadn’t been that much of a joke when I said he looked like a twelve-year-old. Standing at the door earlier, it had seemed as if he had come here straight from boot camp with a serious lack of experience.

  Rowdy followed my finger with his gaze until it hit the young man in uniform. “That man is a soldier, and he is here to protect us,” I said. Rowdy nodded but then turned a questioning gaze in my direction.

  “He doesn’t have big guns,” he said in a whisper.

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said as I eyed Luke with exaggeration. “Maybe he has hidden them in his back pocket.”


  Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “That won’t fit, silly,” he said and giggled a little. I smiled at him and rubbed a hand over his head, relieved that the kid was sort of okay. Luke entered with the cordless receiver in hand.

  “Mars wants to talk to you,” he said.

  I grabbed the phone from Luke’s hand and gestured for him to stay with Rowdy as I rolled into the hallway. Tears sprang to my eyes as I heard his voice on the other end of the line.

  “Ash,” he said, “you there?” I pressed a hand to my mouth until I reached the end to the hall and swallowed hard. A lump in my throat prevented me from talking, so I cleared it before I spoke his name.

  “I’m so sorry, Mars,” I said. “I don’t know what happened, I—”

  Mars cut me off as he addressed me with a firm voice. “Listen to me. Luke already explained what happened,” he said, “This is not the time—just know that this is not your fault.” I nodded like an idiot as if he could see me. “I’m on my way along with containment teams. I need you to stay inside the house. Stay away from the doors and windows. Don’t let them see you or let them smell the others. Got it?”

  “I know the drill,” I said, but I didn’t hear the confidence in my voice as I had hoped to expect from myself.

  “Just give me an hour,” he said and paused. “Ash,” he added in a questioning voice.

  “An hour,” I repeated more firmly this time and nodded again. Mars excused himself for a moment, and I heard him shouting at someone. I took the time to collect myself and then started rolling down the hall back to the living room.

  “Ash,” Mars said in a soft voice as he came back, “could I …” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I could guess what he wanted to say.

  “I haven’t told him yet,” I said and swallowed down another lump.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to him after I get you out of there.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said as rolled into the living room and approached the couch. “Here he comes.”

  “Ash,” he said again, more firmly. I returned the phone to my ear and felt the nerves unsettle as he began to speak.

  “That is my boy,” he said, “if anything were to happen to him …” The silence that followed the deep exhale probably told me more than his words would have.

  “I’ve got him,” I said, “you just get here.” I pulled the phone from my ear and held it to Rowdy’s.

  “Hey buddy,” I said, trying to sound light, “your daddy’s on the phone.”

  Rowdy’s face lit up as he gripped the device with two hands and called out, “Daddy!”

  Luke gestured for me to follow him. I checked Rowdy, who was listening intently to his dad over the phone, and I rolled to the kitchen where Luke waited for me with a concerned look on his face.

  “What?” I asked. His eyes flickered nervously from me to the living room where Rowdy was still talking to Mars.

  “I’m worried,” he said.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “We’re all worried,” I said.

  “No, I mean, I’m worried he won’t be able to come.”

  I frowned, not exactly sure what he meant by that.

  “That’s his son,” I said incredulously. “Of course he’s coming.”

  “I’m not saying he won’t try, but with three more outbreaks surrounding this area, I’m worried he might not be able to,” he said.

  I glared at him in shock.

  “And he didn’t tell you. Great!”

  I turned my chair and rushed into the living room. Just as I had reached the couch, Rowdy pressed the button to disconnect.

  “Shi—” I started to say, but stopped myself as I noticed Rowdy’s eyes on me. I took the phone from him and tossed it at Luke. “Get him back on the line.”

  Meanwhile, Rowdy got to his feet, standing on the couch. I was about to grab for him as he let himself fall into my lap. He landed with a thump. I didn’t feel him hit my legs, but I was pretty sure he’d just left me with a nice bruise.

  “Daddy said to stick to you like glue,” he said.

  “He did, huh?” I said.

  “Yep.”

  The distant sound of tires screeching followed by a crash had me drawn to the window. Someone must have wrecked a car. I pulled the curtain aside but couldn’t detect any movement. The agents’ black sedan stood parked right in front of the house and blocked most of my view of the street. Those zombies would have wandered off if they didn’t find an immediate snack in the direct vicinity, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be close. I didn’t need to see them to know this was about to get out of control, and considering multiple outbreaks in the surrounding area, I tended to agree with Luke. Mars might not be able to get here in time.

  My eyes veered across the lawn, and I spotted a handgun in the middle of the driveway. Must have belonged to one of the agents or that soldier who had come along with Luke. I glanced back at the sedan, wondering if there’d be more weapons inside. Movement inside a neighbor’s house across the street caught my eyes. As I watched Mr. Jackson’s place for a moment, nothing seemed to stir, and I wondered if I’d imagined it.

  Then I saw it again and gasped. This time it was hard to miss. Bloodied hands clawed at the window from the inside. Having seen enough, I turned my head. Besides, Rowdy didn’t need to see that.

  “Hang on, buddy,” I said as I rolled us back to the kitchen. As he saw me, Luke shook his head in an emphatic no.

  “Agent Marsden left and they cannot reach him,” Luke said. I sighed and refrained myself from cursing. Rowdy was sitting on my lap after all. I glanced down at him, and the PJs he wore. It was time to get him dressed and ready in case we had to move.

  “Can you keep an eye on things?” I asked Luke. “I need to get some stuff and change.” Without waiting for a reply, I rolled my chair along with my passenger from the kitchen and headed to my room.

  | 9

  Mags

  My butt ached as I sat up in my chair and shifted to get a better look down the row of seats. Beside Angie, who sat next to me, only three other seats inside the small plane were occupied. Staff Sergeant Eric Preston sat on the first row on his own. Two rows behind him sat Corporal Tom Harding, a stocky guy who talked as if he had seen too many Rambo movies, and next to him Chase Gibson, a combat medic.

  Preston had introduced us just before we’d boarded the small plane bound for Alabama. After our chat with Colonel Marshall, we had received another briefing where Preston had shown us maps and details of what we were planning to do, but my attention had kept slipping.

  A low sounding growl came from my left as I shifted in my chair again.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Angie said. “I’m trying to get some sleep here.”

  “Sorry,” I whispered as I slumped back in my chair.

  Preston had also told us that as soon as we landed at Maxwell Air Force Base, we’d be heading out, and he had suggested we take a nap on the plane. That just seemed impossible to me.

  “What am I doing here?” I said under my breath. Angie groaned and sat up. “I’m not a soldier.”

  “You’ve said that already,” Angie said. “Several times in fact.”

  I had tried to bring my point across to Colonel Marshall, but the woman wouldn’t relent. Only three men had volunteered to be injected with the serum, and she countered that she needed Angie and me for the team to succeed. That didn’t make sense to me, and it felt I’d be more likely to endanger the mission with my lack of experience in just about anything.

  “Your instructors tell me that you performed adequately in the basic training that you’ve received and that your gun handling was even above adequate,” she had said. When I’d flat-out refused, she had pulled the one card that I couldn’t counter—Ash. The bitch had actually threatened to keep Ash away from me. My assertion that Colonel Lauren Marshall would do what it took to get the job done had become evidently clear to me then, and the rest of the conversation had become a lot less civil. Angie had to drag me from th
e room after that.

  “How did I get here?” I said, starting to sound like a broken record.

  “You decided to take a vacation in the Big Apple, and then after it became too crowded with zombies at the airport, you took a left and headed into Brooklyn,” Angie said. I lifted an eyebrow and glared at her. She grinned in return.

  “Look at it on the bright side,” she said.

  “Which is?”

  “You won’t be cold in Alabama.”

  I groaned and sank further down in my seat. At that point, there was some movement at the front of the plane, and two men started to approach our seats.

  For a moment, I hoped they would pass us to maybe check our gear or something, but it became evident that we had been their targets as the medic, Chase Gibson, moved into the row of seats in front of us and Corporal Tom Harding took the seat next to me across the aisle. I cleared my throat as I gazed up at the men. With my mood, I didn’t think I’d be good company, but I forced a friendly smile on my face anyway.

  “What’s up, guys?” Angie said.

  “We thought it would be polite to get to know one another a little better before we land and start slicing and dicing,” Tom said. Chase shot Tom a look of disapproval and slightly shook his head.

  “We heard you were awake, and we thought we’d come say hi,” Chase added.

  “Hi,” Angie said. When she didn’t say anything else the men kind of glanced at each other as if they were asking each other now what? I grinned at the blank expression on Angie’s face.

  “Chase, wasn’t it?” I asked.

  “Call me Gibs. Everyone else does,” he replied. Figured, most people I had met over here either used a nickname or some abbreviation of their real name. I turned to Tom questioningly, wondering if he had some altered version of a name.

  “Tom,” he said and shrugged.

  “So,” I said after a moment of awkward silence, “what’s up?”

  “We were wondering if we could do a little background check of sorts,” Gibs said hesitantly. His eyes flickered from Angie to me and then to Tom as if he needed some confirmation.