by JT Sawyer
Within minutes, the main biker force downtown was splintered and silence loomed out in the immediate area. The only sound came from occasional gunfire in nearby streets as the rest of Enrique’s dwindling men fought the encroaching zombie horde which poured over the city like a mountain torrent breaching a dam.
Travis knelt beside LB, pressing a thick wad of gauze from his med kit into the gaping neck wound. LB’s eyes were glossy and his breathing wheezy. He reached his hand out to Travis, who met it with a tight grip. “I don’t want to go like the others. Promise me you’ll end it before I turn into one of those things.” He choked out the words.
Travis held his grip firm over LB’s hand. “I promise, amigo.”
“If you find yourself back in New York one day”—he sputtered out the words, coughing up blood—“could you look up my kids and tell them I love them, and how much I thought about them?”
Travis gripped LB’s arm. “You got it, my friend. We were always in good hands with you on our side, LB.”
Katy and the other women gathered around him. Rachel brushed her hand through his hair, trying to emit a calming smile but instead only managed to contain her trembling lips.
LB’s grip relaxed and his body slumped to the ground as he emitted a final breath. The world outside grew distant and the only sounds around them came from muffled cries. Travis lowered his head and clenched his fist repeatedly on LB’s crumpled sleeve.
A few minutes later, Clara and her team staggered into the small retreat beside them. Clara looked down at LB, whose glazed eyes were staring up at the concrete ceiling.
“My God—I’m so sorry,” Clara said. “We can’t stay here, though. The streets are crawling with RAMs. The biker army has been shattered and the main battle is over but we gotta go, now, before we’re overrun. Dane said he saw a clear passage out through the west end, where the rest of our forces have gathered.”
Travis handed his rifle to Becka. “Someone help me lift LB up. We’re not leaving him here.”
“You can’t bring him,” said Clara. “He’s gonna turn, Travis—you know he is. The best thing we can do for him is to finish the job.” She reached for her pistol. “It’s time to go, before we all get pinned down.”
“No, we’re not leaving him like this, dammit,” he said as his voice trembled. He felt the walls around him squeezing in and his stomach reeling in knots. The strain of battle and constant fatigue contorted his face.
Travis felt Katy yanking on his sleeve as she motioned him to move out from under the bridge. “She’s right,” Katy said. “We have to save ourselves.” Travis turned to go back under the bridge but Clara stepped in front of him. “Go—I’ll take care of LB.”
“Step aside—I got this,” Travis said, moving past Clara with his rifle unslung. “He was my responsibility. The dead are always my responsibility, in this life and the next one, it seems.”
Chapter 18
Once the main army of bikers had fallen, Crawford’s fighters swept into the woods around town and finished off the rest that were fleeing from the undead. Then his battalions retreated south, making their way past the bullet-riddled homes as the hordes of zombies overtook the city. As dusk approached, Travis and Clara’s teams regrouped with the main battalions who were concentrated in the forest several miles away.
That night, those who were severely wounded were transported on trucks to the field hospitals in Winslow and Sedona. After that, vehicles made constant trips back for the other fighters, who piled onto the remaining trucks until the fuel supplies were exhausted. Those that were left behind walked on foot to the passage that wound through Oak Creek to the outpost at the northern edge of Sedona. Travis and his team made it to Winslow on the last three trucks, arriving just before midnight.
Chapter 19
Amidst a tangled heap of jagged metal and cement rubble, Nikki’s eyes fluttered and she tried to focus on the twisted iron girders in the ceiling above where she was lying. As she regained consciousness, she felt like the right side of her face was pressed against a blazing woodstove. A fist-sized section of skin on her left cheek was charred. The pain ripped through her psyche and she let out a piercing shriek, then quickly muffled her voice through clenched teeth. As she sat up, she caught a faint reflection of her face in a shard of broken computer screen on the ground. Her eyes widened and her stomach constricted as she raised a pale hand over the crisp, blackened flesh while gazing in horror at the wound. She thought about the graceful contours of her face—a seemingly angelic face that deceived men into forgetting about the demons clawing away behind her powder-blue eyes. Her looks had always given her the upper hand in a male-dominated world, and now it was an image that was marred.
“Travis! Travis Combs…I will shred your body slowly for this, keeping you alive for months,” she said with an animal growl of pleasure.
She turned slightly to her left and saw her pistol lying under a heap of distorted, burnt wood fragments. As she strained to reach it, she felt a stabbing sensation in her leg and discovered a finger-sized splinter of metal sticking out of the fabric in her right quadriceps as a slow rivulet of blood dripped onto the floor. The searing pain in her face had been overriding the dagger-like wound in her leg, but now the full force of both injuries pushed through. She tried to force it away momentarily while reaching for the gun but the pain was too intense and she recoiled into a fetal position.
She gasped in several deep breaths and then sat up and bellowed in agony. Nikki reached down and grabbed the ruby-colored splinter with her fingers.
“Travis must pay for what he has done. No one defeats me—not him, not any man.” She yanked the jagged piece of shrapnel out while biting her lip until it bled, containing the scream as her head thrashed from side to side. She gulped down another breath as tears welled up in her eyes from the pain of both wounds.
“I will not scream. Screaming is weakness,” she said in between gasps of air. “Only the guilty and condemned scream for mercy.” She fought to hold in the agony as tears streamed down her face and her hand clenched the seeping leg wound. Nikki flung a hand up to her vest pocket and removed a trauma kit. She tore through the contents, removing several gauze packets and surgical tape.
After a few seconds of shuddered breathing, she wrapped the gaping puncture, trying not to black out. Then she reached back into the kit, removed a morphine syringe and drove it into her arm, just above the rose-colored tattoo which was partially splashed with blood. While the opiate tide washed over her, she surveyed the chamber. The mangled remains of her men lay scattered around the concrete floor, which was strewn with shattered tables, weapons, and computer parts. The pallets of supplies and crates beside her had partially shielded her from the blast and prevented her from meeting the same fate as the rest of her team. In the nearby entrance tunnel, she could hear the splatter of water on the floor as a damaged pipe spilled forth a steady stream.
After a few minutes of slipping in and out of consciousness, she forced her mind back to her surroundings and the location of her Sig pistol. She slid it free of the debris and then staggered to her feet, leaning against a damaged table while leaving a swath of blood along the floor as she pushed forward.
Nikki peered over to the elevator, which was blocked with a fallen girder, and then she glanced to her right, down the dark hallway that led to the tunnel below. She held her pistol outstretched before her, trying to focus her mind beyond the haze of morphine flowing through her system. She careened towards the corridor, stopping to search the contorted bodies for a walkie-talkie. After finding an intact radio, she tucked it in her vest, retrieved two spare magazines and then limped to the nearest wall for support.
She paused, pressing her figure into the cold concrete while taking the weight off her injured leg. Her breathing was ragged and shallow. She regained her bearings, looking into the blackness of the concrete tunnel ahead. The path was faintly illuminated by sunlight piercing the edges of the metal service door that led below.
&
nbsp; Nikki leaned one hand on the wall as she staggered ahead, the pain still managing to pierce through her delirium. Her thoughts raced back to her sister, who was trapped in her own sedated hell. “I’m sorry I failed you, Marina. We’ll get out of this together, I promise,” she said as a tear slid onto her raw cheek, sending a bolt of pain through her. As she trudged along the corridor, she felt her anxiety turn to rage. Her mind rushed to the image of Travis. As Nikki considered the horrors she would inflict on him and his family, her faint smile expanded into a grin.
Chapter 20
The next morning, the cold air of dawn was seeping in through a broken window as Travis rustled back and forth on his cot in a back room at the La Posada Hotel. Strung out asleep around him was the rest of his group along with dozens of cowboys. The entire two-story hotel was filled with weary and injured fighters. Between his wounds and the recurring images from the recent knife fight, he had gotten little rest. His eyes were still heavy and he struggled to fall back asleep. Not having much luck, he got up and put on his boots, then walked out onto the immense front porch which overlooked the Painted Desert. He thought back to the tattooed woman’s comment about his son back in Denver. Todd must still be alive if she mentioned him. He must have made it. Where could he be?
While he stared into the wilderness, running through a dozen possible outcomes, he heard soft footfalls behind him. He turned to see Katy coming up next to him. She smiled and placed her hands on the tarnished wood railing, joining him in staring at the rugged landscape before them.
“You OK?” she said. “You looked like someone who just sprinted up a hill with a hundred- pound pack.”
“You could say that,” he said, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. “Some memories that you think you’ve buried just seem to rear their hideous heads when you least expect it.”
“I’m a pretty good listener if you wanna run anything past me.”
He rolled his shoulders back, wincing at the discomfort from the stitched wounds. “I’m alright, thanks, Katy. Besides, you might have nightmares yourself if you ever dug through my head.”
“You don’t have to play the stoic card with me. You’ve got a whole family here who cares about you. You’re not alone anymore, Travis.”
He sighed and tried to find something to say, but just turned and continued his outward gaze at the windswept mesas.
Katy turned towards him. “We stood in an old hotel like this once before, not long ago.”
“Yes, we did. It seems so distant now.”
“You were saying how you had to pull up stakes and push on.”
“I remember,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “I wish that night had gone differently.”
“You did what you felt you had to.”
“If I’d done that, I would have pulled you into my arms and let you know what you mean to me, Katy,” he said, turning and resting his hand on her shoulder, then running his fingers up through her golden hair.
“Whatever happens from this moment forward, we’re in this together,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. “Your trail and mine are the same.”
“That whole time I was away, after I left, and all through the long days, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, pushing his dark memories away and focusing on her lovely features. He pulled her in close as she placed her arms around his neck. He felt the fine strands of her golden hair brush across his face. He wanted to pull back and felt the need to close up inside, but her touch, her fragrance, and those emerald eyes, were unraveling him.
The sound of approaching cowboy boots caused them to turn abruptly as Crawford came down the stairs into the lobby beside them. They both placed their hands on the railing, re-centering their gazes upon the desert. Katy let out an uneven smile then flung her golden hair back.
Crawford walked up and stood next to Travis. “I want to talk with you both about your Colorado plans, but right now I’m gonna meet with a few of my unit commanders. Why don’t you get together with me on the back porch in a little bit so we can hash out some things before you leave?”
Crawford strode down the hallway, which was just beginning to bustle with movement as people were waking. Once he was gone, Katy pushed Travis into the shadows of the wall behind him and began kissing him. Travis couldn’t stop himself, and responded by running his hands along her neck while her body softened against his. He relished the taste of her lips and her fragrance—that same fragrance that had driven him to longing in all their months together. He felt the passion begin to tremble through his chest as his hands raced over her figure. Then his instincts kicked in and he heaved himself back slightly. He wanted to keep kissing Katy but his mind was racing and he felt the need to bolt from the room.
“We should go meet with Crawford before we wake the rest of this hotel,” he said.
She began moving towards him but he stepped out from the shadows and ran a hand over his scruff. A slight smile formed on his lips and the tension left his shoulders. “Katy, you’re a beautiful woman. It’s just been a long time and, you know, sooner or later I rub people the wrong way.” He longed to move closer and kiss her again. Instead he stood still.
Katy put her hands on her hips and blew a strand of hair off her nose. “It’s OK. I have to go see how Becka and the girls are doing anyway. Promise me you’ll come find me later, though.”
He looked up and nodded. “Actually, why don’t you gather up the rest of the group and meet in the kitchen. There are some things we all need to discuss before I meet with Crawford.”
Chapter 21
A half hour later, Travis strode into the kitchen, where the group was gathered around a rectangular steel table. He sat down beside Pete, who was downing a spoonful of beef stew. He looked over the faces of each person there and took a deep breath while calculating each word he needed to say about his departure.
Before he could speak, Nora looked up and began talking. “So, when do we leave, boss—for Durango, that is?”
Travis frowned and looked over at Pete and then Katy, who both averted their eyes momentarily while keeping their frowns in check. “As you all know, I’ve been discussing my plans for many months to get back home to Denver. That time is nearing, but first I have to take care of something in Durango. Something that I’ve kept from all of you during our time together and others here have had to carry the burden of,” he said, putting his hand on Katy’s forearm, which was resting on the table beside him.
He then spent the next hour discussing the vaccines, Pearson’s role, and the rogue agency while stressing how imperative it was that he push on, with due haste, for Colorado. “Each one of you is welcome to join me or to stay with Crawford and his people. I will think none the less of you if you decide to drop your saddlebags here. You’ve all had a hell of an uphill battle, in more ways than one, to stand on your own two feet in this new world and make it to this day of victory.” He paused, looking into the eyes of each person around the table. “The road to Durango will be arduous and I can’t guarantee what awaits us, but if there’s a chance that we can halt the coming of the second wave and save lives, then I’m willing to walk down that trail, alone if necessary.”
“Relax, Mr. Lone Wolf; you’re stuck with me for a while longer,” said Pete. “Besides, the last time I let you wander off alone, we had to pluck your mug off a rooftop. Better if you’ve got someone with sage advice to keep you from making hasty decisions.”
Nora put down the glass of water she was drinking from and stood up. “Sir, Rachel and I have stuck it out with you this long and we’re in for the long haul. Neither of us are the kind to sit around for long anyway.”
Travis looked at Becka, who was sitting across the table, her blue eyes resolutely staring into his. “I’ve already been through this once before with Katy. I’m not a kid anymore and you can’t make me stay here. I’m coming and no one can hold me back,” she said.
“I figured as much,” Travis said wi
th a half-smile. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve got tiger blood in your veins, so you’ll fit right in with these three lasses here,” he said, shooting a glance at Katy and the two sisters, who were all grinning.
He sat down and rested his hand on Katy’s leg underneath the table. “Now that our Rocky Mountain High vacation plans are in place, why don’t you all get as much rest as possible today and do an inventory of your gear so I can let Crawford know what we need in the way of ammo and supplies.”
He reached out to grab a green ceramic mug off the table and pour a cup of tepid coffee from the thermos beside it. “We’ll leave in the last remaining helo tomorrow after sunrise.”
Chapter 22
When he was through speaking with the group in the kitchen, Travis got up and walked out to the back porch, where Crawford was finishing breakfast. Travis spun a wicker chair around and sat on it, resting his arms over the backrest while gazing out at the vast expanse of desert.
“What happens now—you gonna regroup in Flagstaff and make that the new HQ?” Travis said.
“Maybe in the spring, once we’ve recovered. For now, we’ll let the winter snows reduce the remaining stragglers there and hopefully the RAMS too, then I’ll take in some search-and-destroy teams and make that town our northernmost outpost. We’re completely out of fuel for the vehicles so it’ll have to be horse and boot power from here on—the way it used to be when my forebears settled this land,” said Crawford with a weary voice.
Travis looked over at the man, glancing at his weathered face and hardened eyes. “You, Clara, and your people are some of the most valiant human beings I’ve ever fought alongside, and you’re a damn fine leader—even for a former marine.”
