“Hey, nice piece,” Sonny had said, smiling but reaching slowly inside the beaten up pickup truck bed for a blood stained, sharp ended wooden pole. “Got any more weapons like that?”
The big guy laughed. “Ah, sure. I’ve got a whole, god damn armory in the truck back there.” He turned his head around to his yellow pickup truck and jabbed a meaty thumb towards the cab. When his gaze turned back to Sonny, the sharpened end of a wooden stake rocketed through his right eyeball.
“Too bad all your prepping turned to shit, huh?” Sonny mocked, standing over the felled body. “Guess when it came to crunch time, you weren’t cut out for this shit, hey Sparky?”
Sonny left the wooden pole embedded in the big guy’s head and took the Colt handgun and his wallet.
“Mr. Blake Peabody,” he read aloud, studying the Texas driving license. “Well, thank you very much for your contribution, sir.”
Sonny snickered to himself and made his way towards the Dodge Ram, yellow pickup truck. Now he could continue with his relentless pursuit of his enemies, with the help of Blake Peabody’s extensive range of firearms and an alternative assortment of weaponry.
Sonny had caringly loaded and laid the array of guns out in a series of organized lines across the passenger seat next to him.
Leticia heard a vehicle approaching from behind her but she didn’t have time to turn around to see who or what was heading her way. She frantically fired off round after round, hoping Trey would soon join her on the gatehouse roof. The infected gained ground and were only a few yards from the gatehouse. She’d seen Mancini and some other men leap from the upstairs window and make their way to the car parked at the furthest point from the house.
Sonny heard the crack of a semi automatic rifle and saw the girl perched on the gatehouse roof, firing on a mass of onrushing crazy heads.
“You’re fighting a losing battle right there, Baby Doll,” he scoffed.
Sonny slowed his truck slightly in front of the opening gates and selected his weapon of choice. He picked up a 9mm Uzi sub-machine gun, capable of firing six-hundred rounds per minute and sending a wall of lead at any intended target.
Mancini and Pablo reached the idling Lexus, with Luiz frantically waving them inside. Mancini fired the last of his shotgun cartridges at the encroaching infected while Victor bundled Pablo into the backseat alongside Logrono. Mancini knew it was going to be a hell of a tight squeeze for Trey and Leticia to also cram inside the interior, but once they were free of the perimeter boundary, they’d quickly transfer to the Thunderbird and get the hell out of there.
Mancini tossed the empty shotgun into the back and drew his Heckler and Koch handgun. He fired another two shots at the nearest onrushing infected. The back door clunked shut and Pablo grimaced in pain, gripping his damaged leg with his hands while sitting between Logrono and Victor. Mancini, still with the one remaining firearm in his hand, jumped into the passenger seat alongside Luiz.
The infected closed around the Lexus and bumped their hands against the windows, their sneering, snarling faces pressing against the glass.
“Go!” Mancini yelled.
Luiz had already engaged the transmission into reverse and hit the gas pedal. The Lexus lurched backwards at speed, throwing off some off the infected stragglers.
Trey’s arms ached as he turned the crank handle inside the closet until it wouldn’t turn any more. He breathed heavily and slumped against the closet door.
“Is that it?” he called out, glancing up at the ceiling. “Are the gates open, Leticia?”
He’d heard the rifle fire and assumed the infected were close. Stepping over the body of the infected guy he’d shot, Trey moved to the window.
“Holy shit,” he gasped, when he saw a whole crowd of infected rushing towards the gatehouse.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Sonny saw the reversing lights engage on the Lexus further down the driveway. They were deciding to make a break for it so now was the time to put a halt to their escape plans. But first, he’d have to take care of the girl on the gatehouse roof. She had a scoped rifle and would be able to pick him off once he was inside the grounds. Sonny pressed the button on the vehicle’s control panel to open his side window. He rolled the pickup truck forward a few yards so he was through the gates and directly beside the gatehouse.
“You better have that cure for this shit ready and waiting for us,” Mancini growled at Luiz.
Luiz nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his side mirrors, while winding his way backwards along the driveway. He saw a yellow pickup truck emerge from the access road and come to a stop, slightly beyond the open gates.
“Who the hell is that?” Luiz muttered.
Mancini turned in his seat. The pickup truck had dark tinted windows and he couldn’t see the driver. Logrono swiveled in his seat and gazed out through the rear window.
“Keep going,” Logrono barked. “It’s probably just some idiot delivering a package. He’ll have to back up.”
Trey pulled the Heckler and Koch handgun from the back of his waistband as he hurried to the gatehouse door. He pulled down his sleeves, trying to hide the wound on his left wrist. He had to concentrate on helping the others to escape. The rifle cracked again from above him and Trey took a deep breath before he opened the door. He instinctively aimed and fired at a few infected surrounding the gatehouse. The first few infected people leading the charge went down and Trey continued to fire until his weapon clicked empty. He fumbled in his pocket for a fresh magazine but his arms felt heavy and cumbersome after cranking open the heavy gates.
“Get up here on the roof, Trey,” Leticia yelled above him. “You don’t have time to reload.”
Trey glanced over his shoulder up at Leticia. He nodded and leapt up for the edge of the roof. He didn’t have the strength in his arms to haul himself upward and he sagged below the roofline. Leticia placed the rifle beside her and grabbed at the back of Trey’s shirt to pull him upward, out of the way of the onrushing infected.
Sonny aimed the Uzi sub-machine gun at the girl on the gatehouse roof and fired off a rapid burst of rounds. He laughed when he saw her back arch and her head jerk backwards as several rounds ripped through her torso. She fell forward and disappeared from sight.
“Shame, she was kind of cute,” he muttered.
Now it was time to take care of the bastards in the Lexus.
Sonny pressed the button to close his window and hit the gas pedal hard.
Trey heard a burst of gunfire and felt the rounds zipping above his head as he crawled up the stone wall. Leticia let out a wheezing rasp and suddenly rocked forward. She fell off the gatehouse roof and landed on the slab pathway in front of the door. Blood oozed around her and Trey couldn’t figure out what the hell had just happened.
“Leticia!” he squawked, enduring a rush of grief and guilt wash over him.
Trey clung onto the side of the roof and clawed at the stonework until his torso was over the top of the gatehouse wall. He felt the handgun slip from his waistband and heard it clatter onto the path below. Snarls and shrieks of the infected below caused him to instinctively swing his legs up and around so he was lying across the edge of the roof. Trey glanced down at the carnage beneath him and immediately wished he hadn’t. The infected crowd set about Leticia’s still warm body, ripping, tearing and biting at the flesh, until she was reduced to a mutilated, bloody pulp.
“No! No, you fuckers, no!” Trey howled, with tears welling in his eyes.
Mancini thought he heard a burst of gunfire above the roar of the pursuing infected. He turned in his seat and saw the pickup truck accelerate at a rapid speed.
“What the hell is he doing?” Mancini yelled.
Luiz shrugged. “I got no clue but he’s going to run into us if he doesn’t slow…”
Luiz’s words were lost amid a metallic crunching sound as the pickup truck rammed into the back of the Lexus. The car ceased traveling backwards and was rocked into the opposite direction. Nobody inside
the Lexus had thought about putting on a seat belt. Mancini and Luiz jerked forward in their seats, hitting the engaged air bags face first. Victor was killed instantly when his head smashed against the metallic support between the front and rear side windows. Logrono and Pablo both pitched forward and their faces smashed into the front seat headrests.
Sonny whooped as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the pickup driver’s door. He selected another weapon from the passenger seat to accompany the Uzi. This time he picked a German made Luger pistol that looked as though it was a relic from World War Two. Some of his weapons had slid onto the floor during the impact but he’d retrieve them later. First, there was business to take care of.
Mancini coughed out the dust in his throat that accompanied the air bag engagement. He knew he had to get out of the car but he couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. His neck hurt like hell and he felt as though his breath had been sucked out of him. He’d dropped his Heckler and Koch someplace due to the impact and he groped around either side of the deflating air bag but couldn’t locate the firearm. He heard moans and groans from inside the car but was aware of somebody approaching from the rear and the onrushing infected from the front.
Sonny inspected the front of the pickup truck as he walked by. The crash bars and solid front had prevented any damage to the vehicle. Slight scraping on the chrome work across the crash bars was the only evidence of the collision. Sonny nodded to himself in approval. He glanced up the driveway at the Lexus. He’d managed to shunt the vehicle a few feet down the track and the trunk lid had opened up under the impact.
“Well, what do you know?” Sonny muttered to himself. “I love that damn truck.”
Screams of the infected rushing down the driveway alerted Sonny to the impending danger. He aimed the Uzi beyond the Lexus and fired off a couple of short bursts. The leading infected fell to the ground and Sonny returned his attention to the open trunk in front of him. He stuffed the Luger into his waistband, rooted around the contents of the trunk and opened a cardboard box. Inside the box, he found a clear plastic bag, the size of a pillow, stuffed full of small green crystals.
“Well, praise this ship and all who sails in her,” he said.
Sonny stuffed the large bag of crystals into the inside of his oversized combat jacket, liberated from Blake Peabody’s clothing closet, but was alerted when he heard the sound of one of the Lexus doors opening.
Logrono dabbed at his bleeding nose and groped for the Lexus door handle. He fell out of the open door, his head was groggy but he knew he had to try and get away. The growls of his infected former employees and good time girls rang in his ears. The ungrateful bastards had returned to bite the hand that had fed them for all these years. He stumbled around the back of the car and met the gaze of a big tall guy, dressed in baggy combat fatigues, who aimed a small machine gun at him.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
“Howdy,” the guy said, smiling.
Logrono muttered something Sonny didn’t catch. Sonny shrugged and squeezed the trigger for less than a second. Logrono’s face screwed up in a brief state of pain as the 9mm rounds ripped through his chest. He fell on his back onto the ground, with his eyes open in death, blood from the bullet wounds seeped through his white shirt.
Sonny glanced back up the driveway and saw more of the infected rapidly approaching. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to find more booty.
Mancini heard a brief rasp of fire and knew they were in serious trouble. Luiz coughed and hacked next to him in the driver’s seat and moved to open his door.
“Don’t get out of the car,” Mancini grunted but it was too late.
Luiz staggered out of the Lexus, retching and coughing.
“Well ‘aint this nice,” Sonny chimed, aiming the Uzi at Luiz.
Mancini heard the southern drawl outside the car and glanced in the side mirror.
“Ah, shit,” he croaked. “Not that guy again.” He also caught sight of Logrono’s body lying beside the car. They needed to keep Luiz alive if they were going to mass produce and deliver a cure for the infection. Luiz was in imminent danger and Mancini had to try bargaining with Sonny.
“Any more of this green produce, Senor?” Sonny asked.
Luiz held up his hands in a surrendering motion while he coughed the dust from the air bag out of his lungs.
“Come on, hurry it up,” Sonny snapped. “I ‘aint got all day here. Those crazy heads are going to be on top of us any second now, boy.”
Luiz took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the infected hurtling in their direction.
“I can get you some more,” Luiz croaked. He saw the bag of crystals poking out from inside Sonny’s jacket. “I can make as much as you want. I am the manufacturer.”
“Well, now. That is interesting,” Sonny said with a sneer.
Mancini had one last search for his Heckler and Koch handgun but couldn’t find it. He gave up, he had to save Luiz. Mancini opened his door and crawled out of his seat. He raised his hands above his head and saw Sonny re-direct the short Uzi barrel towards him.
“So, we meet again, Hoss,” Sonny said. “I guess you were the guy who busted my nose back out there in the desert.”
Mancini nodded slightly before he spoke. “Listen, I know we don’t have much time but you can’t shoot this guy.” He pointed at Luiz. “He has a cure for the infection and we need him alive. I’ve got a shit load of cash in the trunk of the Thunderbird out the front there. It’s all yours if you let this guy live.”
Sonny’s eyes widened. “How much?”
“About two million dollars.”
Sonny broke into a smile. “Hell, I wasn’t going to shoot him anyhow. He promised to make me as much of this shit as I wanted. But thinking about it, who am I going to sell it to anyhow? Two million dollars in cash sounds a whole lot more appealing.” He swiveled his aim and fired a burst at Luiz.
Luiz jerked backwards as the nine millimeter Parabellum rounds tore through his internal organs. He hit the ground hard, coughed out blood in one gurgling retch before he took his last breath.
Mancini held the top of his head, breathing heavily in shock and disbelief. “What the hell have you done?” he gasped.
The smile on Sonny’s face slipped away. He returned his aim to Mancini’s chest. “Get the fuck in the truck,” he ordered.
Mancini had no choice but to comply and reluctantly made his way to the passenger seat. Sonny remembered his scattered firearms in the cab and shook his head at Mancini.
“Get in the back of the bed,” Sonny instructed. “And stay sitting right in the center where I can see you. I can still shoot you through the back window, you know.”
The infected crowd began to swarm around the wrecked Lexus. Mancini heard pained screams from the interior as he crawled onto the pickup truck’s rear bed.
“Sorry, Pablo,” Mancini muttered.
The infected also leapt on the bodies of Logrono and Luiz, ripping and tearing them apart with their teeth and fingers. Sonny aimed the Luger pistol directly at Mancini as he rapidly reversed back down the driveway towards the open gates.
Trey crouched on top of the gatehouse roof, aiming down the rifle scope. He’d seen Sonny ram the Lexus and execute one of its occupants - a gray haired guy who fell out of the backseat. He’d heard more gunshots but couldn’t see who Sonny had shot from his position. He couldn’t find the angle to get a clear shot away at the guy he now realized had killed Leticia. Trey’s arms were weak and shaky and he felt as though he was on the verge of a fever. Sweat rolled down his face yet he felt cold and shivery.
That bastard Sonny was also reversing back down the driveway, so Trey couldn’t even fire a shot at the windshield. Mancini was in the back of the truck with his hands held over his head as though he was a prisoner. Trey didn’t want to take a shot at the cab in case he missed and hit Mancini by accident.
“Ah, man, this fucking sucks,” Trey hissed, holding back the tears in his eyes. He couldn’t believe they’
d come unstuck after getting so close. He tried to gulp away a sorrowful lump in his throat.
Mancini glanced up at the gatehouse roof as the truck whined while reversing along the driveway. He saw Trey crouching down and a sudden thought crossed his mind. Luiz was gone but Jorge would probably know all the places they’d made batches. Perhaps Jorge could lead them to the cure for the disease. As long as Jorge was alive there was still hope. Mancini looked directly up at Trey as they neared the gatehouse.
“There’s a cure and Jorge might know where it is,” Mancini yelled. “Get back to the Thunderbird and get out of here.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sonny shouted, tapping the glass with the Luger barrel. In normal circumstances, he’d have shot Mancini in the face through the window but he wanted to torture him a little after he handed over the two million in cash. The guy was going to pay for busting his nose.
Mancini thought he saw Trey nod. He turned around and scurried along the gatehouse roof and back along the top of the wall. Sonny fired a few token rounds with the Luger at Trey but missed, his shots flying high and wide.
“Damn it, should have reloaded that Uzi,” Sonny spat.
Sonny stepped on the gas, eager to catch Trey before he escaped in the Thunderbird. He’d have a shock when he got back there anyhow, Sonny thought. The kid obviously didn’t know Jorge was already dead. Sonny swung the pickup truck around in the turning circle outside the front gates. Mancini almost tumbled out of the truck bed and had to grip hold of the sides to stop himself falling out. He considered throwing himself out of the truck and making a run for freedom but Sonny was now traveling too fast. He’d almost certainly sustain an injury and either Sonny would come back and shoot him or leave him for the pursuing infected.
Green Ice: A Deadly High Page 36
