Something deep inside Cale snapped. Something primal. Despite Damian being almost double his size, he attacked him. Striking the back of his head and tackling him to the blood soaked floor. All the agony he’d inflicted on Cale was being recycled into pure rage. A fury that muted all of his fatigue and pain. He slammed Damian’s face into the floor with hidden strength, knocking him unconscious momentarily.
“Kill him!” commanded Zach. “Kill him, Cale!”
Cale straddled Damian’s back and seized his chin with one hand and the back of his head with the other. Cale began to turn Damian’s head around while keeping his body still. Furiously, Damian began to struggle as he regained consciousness. His wild bucking did him no good. Cale remembered reading somewhere that it took only sixteen pounds of pressure to snap the human neck. He could muster that. Cale tried to jerk Damian’s head around, but Damian resisted. Somehow, Cale overpowered him. He could feel the first vertebrae crack. Followed by another. And another. Cale’s arms bulged. Then he could feel the muscles begin to tear. Damian flailed. Each individual tissue failed and his head became easier to turn.
“No!” shouted Damian. “No!”
His body went limp. Cale wanted to pull his head off, but his body gave out, and his grip became loose. There were obvious signs of deformity along the back of Damian’s neck. A pool of urine formed under his groin.
“No,” he continued to whisper.
“Holy shit, you did it!” shouted Zach.
“No…no,” repeated Damian.
“He isn’t dead!” argued Cale. “Something’s wrong. I-I did something wrong!”
“Get up! There’s nothing you can do now! The other one will come back!” Zach declared.
“I didn’t kill him, Zach!”
“Doesn’t matter!” argued Zach. “You have to get out of here!”
He was right. Connor could return at any second. Cale forced himself to his feet. His legs felt as if they were asleep. Bobby’s body was motionless. The boy was dead. Cale stumbled toward the door. Slowly, he opened it. It was clear.
“No,” Damian whispered after him.
Cale made his way through the holding cells and into the main lobby. Connor was gone. All of Cale’s belongings had been thrown onto a pile of bags, clothes, and blankets. He grabbed the first pair of clothes he could and put them on. They were a bit too large but he didn’t have time to be picky. Cale gathered his personal items; Zach’s notebook, knife, his iPod, and dog tags. Then his firearms and ammo.
Finally, the Horsemen had a reason to accuse him of stealing. Cale gathered all he could find of their food, water, and medicines. After acquiring a pair of boots he stumbled outside with his loot. A white Ford F-250 sat in the snow-covered parking lot. The back end was weighed down with multiple fifty pound bags of sidewalk salt. Cale threw his gear across the seat and jumped in. The keys were in the ignition and it had a full tank of fuel. The engine roared and heat ejected from the vents as he tore out of the parking lot. Connor’s tire tracks went south. Cale headed north. Black exhaust spewed out of the tail pipe behind him.
For miles he drove, constantly checking his mirrors. He feared Damian would recover and give chase. Cale did his best to follow the roads, but since they were under about seven inches of snow he could only guess using mile markers, signs, and guardrails as reference points. He kept his speed low to avoid crashing or getting stranded. The endorphins from his adrenaline rush were dissipating. The pain gradually returned to his injuries. He attempted to flex the burnt stumps that had once been his ring and pinky fingers on his right hand. His own extremity looked foreign to him.
A quick glance in the mirror at himself revealed a dirty, beaten face. He barely recognized himself.
“Your vanity will have to wait,” Zach stated. “Focus on the road.”
Cale was barely holding himself together. He needed to stop and rest, but panic pushed him to go a little further. The truck entered the city limits of another town. Frozen undead stood and lay amongst the snowy abandoned streets. As he emerged on the opposite side of the town he could see a motel. The sign claimed that there were no vacancies. Cale seriously doubted it.
“This place looks as good as any to stop,” he said to himself.
He hid the vehicle from view behind the structure. Laboriously, he climbed out of the truck. His left arm wasn’t strong enough to do much of anything, and his right hand was in worse shape. He fumbled his handgun several times before finally managing to adequately manipulate it in his dominant hand. Cale was in a great deal of discomfort. The likely hood of a threat was low, but caution was now fully part of his nature.
Cale ventured back around to the front. The motel was laid out in an “L” shape. The main office where guests would check in was a separate structure across the parking lot. A chain linked fence cordoned off a pool filled with frozen water. A thick layer of snow covered everything in sight. He started with the first of twelve rooms. He leaned close to the window to peer in. Cale was in no condition to be performing breaches. A rotting corpse occupied the bed. On a nightstand next to the bed was an empty bottle of pills and a half-full bottle of alcohol. He moved on to the next window, however, the curtains were closed. An undead woman smashed herself into the glass at window three. Her attempt to get at him was feeble. The fourth window had a similar problem. Again, the curtains hindered his view at five. Finally, at the sixth window, a room of promise. It appeared empty and in order. Cale tried the door’s handle. Locked. He was surprised to see that this establishment utilized archaic keys rather than the digital keycards.
If he wanted it to stay secure he couldn’t shoot the lock off. He looked at the main office that lay beyond the mini tundra. He had no other alternative. Cale limped across the icy parking lot. His left arm struggled to open the glass door. He quickly slid his body through the opening he’d created. As the door closed, a pin welded to the door struck a bell that dangled from the ceiling. Even without power, he could tell it was at least fifteen degrees warmer inside the building. The bell’s chime was answered with a low moan. Cale could hear the creature shuffling in back. Its metal chain rattled on the floor with each step.
“I’m not sure you’re up for this,” Zach said sounding concerned.
The undead desk manager shambled out of his personal office and behind the desk. His ashen skin was dried and cracked. Cale raised his firearm, but stopped to think a moment before lowering it.
“What are you doing?” asked Zach.
“I can’t kill it. He’ll know I was here,” Cale answered.
“Who will know?” Zach continued.
“Connor,” he stated.
“Do you think he’ll come after you?”
Cale shrugged. There was no way of telling. He didn’t seem absolutely loyal to Damian, but he did seek retribution for the other two Horsemen.
“Better safe than sorry,” he answered.
“The keys?” Zach pointed behind the desk. “How are you going to get them?”
Cale didn’t answer, but he could see the key he needed. He backed away from the undead man and waited to see how far the chain reached. The man worked his way around the desk and Cale maneuvered to avoid his grasp. His motions were sluggish and poorly coordinated. Obvious signs that his body was preparing for the deep freeze hibernation.
If Cale moved quickly he could avoid the man altogether. There was a small space between the desk and the wall. He squeezed through and made his way to the open lock box. Cale snatched them up the key labeled “6.” The man had already turned around to come after him. Cale hurried back through the tiny gap, just barely making it in time. He let out a sigh of relief as the corpse growled at him from behind the desk.
“Thank you,” Cale said to the motel manager.
The bell rang as he stepped back out into the cold. Cale followed his own footprints back to the door of room six. The key slid into the mechanism with ease. He dropped his gun as he turned it. The door creaked as it swung open. Cale kicked his
firearm across the threshold and onto the carpet. He fumbled it along the floor before finally picking it up. Cale pushed the door shut behind him. He could smell something rotting, but it could also be from the neighboring room.
“Hello,” he said loudly.
“Hello?” scoffed Zach. “Are you trying to clear the room or make friends?”
Cale ignored him. The room appeared to be an ordinary motel room. Cale walked to the back of the room where there was a closet and a bathroom. It was empty. He could hear his neighbor scratching at the wall on the other side. Its moans were muffled.
“How are you going to sleep while that’s going on?” asked Zach.
“This is just an ordinary motel room. I’m going to pretend that that is the obnoxious couple next door having sex,” explained Cale.
He easily forced himself to misinterpret the sound of the undead creature as a lusty couple engaging in coitus. Cale opened the door to get his things out of the truck. He looked forward to resting, but mostly he was excited in anticipation of eating an actual meal.
Chapter 27
A FELLOW SOLDIER AND THE NOT-SO-FICTION WRITER
Cale checked his mirrors for the third time in five minutes, then looked at his speed. The deep snow kept his speed under fifteen miles per hour. What Cale figured would be normally an eight or nine hour trip north was going on day three now. He’d already crossed through Virginia and into West Virginia. An abandoned military blockade and emergency medical triage center prevented him from continuing to Charleston on I-64, and forced him toward Morgantown. Cale was less than excited to be headed northeast. He checked his mirrors again.
“Your behavior is bordering on paranoia, Cale,” said Zach from the passenger seat.
Cale didn’t respond. He checked his speed then his mirrors once more. Fear is what was driving him, and he knew it. The truck bounced as it ran over objects hidden under the snow.
“God damn it,” he swore as he readjusted himself in his seat.
He’d almost smacked his head on the roof. If Cale slowed any further the truck would get stuck and he’d be stranded. The truck accelerated and rocked aggressively as it climbed over more obstacles hidden beneath the cold white blanket.
“Shit!” exclaimed Zach. “What the fuck was that?”
“Probably a flock of undead,” suggested Cale.
“Flock?” Zach inquired with a grin.
“Pod, herd, swarm, gang, mob. Take your pick,” Cale snapped.
“Relax, man,” encouraged Zach.
The road steeply declined and the truck swerved wildly. Cale began pumping the brakes to keep the vehicle under control. At the bottom of the slope he pushed the accelerator to climb the next hill. The tires spun, throwing snow high into the air. Cale was unintentionally burying the truck.
“Come on,” he tried to convince the truck. “Please, please, please. Come on! Damn it!” he cursed as the truck came to a halt.
He put the vehicle in reverse and tried to back up. It didn’t move. He tried forward again. No luck. For awhile he tried to get unstuck, but only succeeded in further burying himself. Cale lowered his head onto the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” he yelled.
Zach opened his mouth to speak.
“What now? What are you going to do now?” Cale mocked him. “Don’t fucking ask?”
Cale zipped up his coat and began the task of putting on his gear. He opened the door and stepped onto the chrome side rail. His foot was submerged in snow. Cale stepped down onto the road. The snow was just below his knee. He slammed the door and trudged to the front of the vehicle. The headlights were still on, but Cale ignored them.
The region was hilly. Tall trees surrounded the mountain road. Slowly, Cale made his way to the roadside. He used the trees as cover while he hiked alongside the highway. The wind whipped snow up into flurries. Cale guarded his face from the cold. He carefully watched each step he took. There were multiple animal tracks that weaved about the trees. One set especially raised concern with Cale. A large paw print.
Cale didn’t know what animal it could belong to, but speculated that it possibly belonged to a mountain lion or some other kind of large cat. It was heavy enough to sink into the snow but not as deep as Cale’s. He stood and place and watched traced the path of the tracks by sight. The glare of the sun off the snow stung his eyes, but he was able to see that it went east and curved to the south.
“It went south,” voiced Cale.
He turned to continue north, but remained vigilant as he did. Snow crunched under each step. Cale marched up one hill, down the other side, and up another. At the top of the next ridge he checked to see his proximity to the highway. It remained about fifty yards to the west. His breath hung suspended in the air with each exhalation. With squinted eyes, he made his way down the steep hill.
Cale forced himself to walk on. If he stopped, the cold would settle into is already stiff legs. He came to a small frozen creek. The surface cracked as he stepped on to it, but didn’t break. A frozen hand extended out of the ice. There were infected below its surface. Faces peered up at him from beneath the ice. Cale crossed quickly. After his short hike up the hill he leaned against a tree to rest. He was winded. While catching his breath, he looked around. Two dormant undead sat below a tree together.
“Well, that’s cute,” Zach stated. “Why would they do that?”
“They must’ve chased a squirrel or bird or something,” Cale replied.
A quick scan of the tree revealed a hunter’s deer stand. It was unoccupied. In the snow Cale could see that the undead circled the tree a couple of times before lying down. A third set of tracks led from the stand and down the hill to the east. For a moment he panicked, thinking it could be the Horsemen somehow. Well, Horseman.
“Relax, man,” encouraged Zach. “There’s no way it’s him.”
Cale took a deep breath and held it in order to calm himself. His hands were trembling.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked.
Zach didn’t answer. Cale watched his hand slowly stop shaking. Was that a panic attack? He took one last deep breath and began moving again. As he walked by the undead he noticed punctures in their skulls. They weren’t dormant, they were dead. The hunter was an opportunist.
Cale looked up to continue his journey. He took a couple of steps before noticing a shape in front of him, it was about fifteen yards away. He took another step and realized what he was looking at. It was a mountain lion. It’s tan fur stood out against the snow.
“Oh shit,” began Cale.
The one hundred forty pound cat stalked toward him slowly with an icy gaze. Slowly, Cale raised his pistol. His gun didn’t have enough stopping power to drop this thing, but maybe the sound would scare it. The cougar picked up speed and Cale fired. Missed. It broke into a run at him. Cale discharged his weapon rapidly, but hitting something that moved fast was more difficult. In a matter of seconds, the mountain cat was almost on top of him. A gunshot thundered through the air, Much louder than Cale’s 9mm. The wild animal stopped and roared loudly before turning and running away.
“You okay?” a man asked.
Cale looked to the east at a group of men. There were four of them.
“Shit,” he hissed as he fired a shot at them.
Each man took cover behind a tree, but didn’t return fire. Cale fired again. His clip was empty now.
“What are you doing?” asked Zach. “They just saved your life.”
Cale didn’t know. All he knew was that he saw four of them.
“Easy friend!” shouted the man. “We don’t mean you any harm!”
Cale didn’t reply. He just reloaded his pistol.
“What’s your name?” the man asked.
“Answer them, Cale,” urged Zach.
Cale looked around to make sure the other three men weren’t flanking him. He didn’t see anyone. Quickly, he poked his head around the tree to see the men. All four were still present.
“If we wanted to
kill you we would’ve let the mountain lion get ya,” confessed the man.
Cale looked at Zach, who shrugged.
“It’s true, buddy,” he offered.
“My name is Lee,” the man called out. “And we’re gonna put our guns away now, okay?”
Cale could hear the men argue amongst themselves, but it sounded like Lee won the argument.
“Alright,” Lee said. “We’re unarmed. What’s your name?”
Zach nodded as a gesture for Cale to talk.
“Just let me pass!” yelled Cale. “I don’t want trouble.”
“And you won’t get any,” replied Lee. “But I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk away. That was just a mountain lion. There are all sorts of predators out here. Wolves, bears, even the snow itself.”
Cale thought about what the man said, but was still foggy on what he was offering.
“Look,” Lee started. “We have safety in numbers. The bigger our numbers, the safer we are. You can’t go it alone.”
“He’s right,” agreed Zach.
“I have you don’t I?” Cale said sarcastically to his hallucination.
“What’s your name?” Lee asked again. “This here is Elliot,” he pointed to the man to his right who was still behind a tree. “And that is Mr. Jordan and Mr. Kyle.”
Cale couldn’t see them. He scanned the two men he could see in an attempt to determine if this olive branch was genuine or a farce. Lee stood with his arms held out to his sides, displaying that he didn’t have a weapon. Elliot cowered behind his tree, his hunting rifle was ready if he needed it. Fuck. Cale looked at Zach already knowing what he’d suggest.
“Be friendly,” he encouraged.
“We can keep talking if you want. I understand if you’re not ready,” offered Lee. “You’ve probably been by yourself for awhile. We’ll just have to get acquainted is all.”
Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming Page 25
