by Hoaks, C. A.
“Try to stay cool, man.” Harry stood up and walked back to the door and turned the handle. “Give me a few seconds so they can’t mow us both down at the same time.”
John sighed. “Optimistic, aren’t we?”
Harry stepped out into the late afternoon heat. The setting sun silhouetted four men stepping from two vehicles.
“You light that fire?” A deep voice called out.
“Yep,” Harry answered, “Didn’t have shovels to bury a dead man and didn’t want to leave him for the buzzards.”
The tallest of the four stepped forward. “Family?”
“You might say.” Harry took a step closer and lowered the barrel of his shotgun. “You folks aren’t heading back toward Sierra Blanca, are you? We passed by there, and it’s overrun. It’s pretty bad even in the outskirts.”
Liz could hear voices but couldn’t listen to what was being said. “Stay here, both of you. You hear shots, get out the back window and run. I’ll be right behind you.”
Cody nodded as Liz walked toward the front of the camper staying out of sight from the men talking to Harry. She could see the men facing Harry. They wore western hats, rough work clothes, and boots. They looked Hispanic. Liz’s jaw clenched. If they came from Mexico….
“Thanks for the warning,” the tall man answered. “Where are you folks headed? There ain’t much out here.”
Harry hesitated a moment, then answered, “Looking for a safe place to hide.”
The tall man pushed his hat back and tilted his head to look at the camper. Liz’s eyes opened wide with recognition. Randy Matherson! Liz slammed the camper door open and raced toward the tall stranger. “Randy!”
“Liz?” Randy answered as she flew into his arms.
Chapter 41
The Mission
The roar of running water grew ever louder. It rushed to escape the dam created by the tree, and additional debris becoming rougher and more dangerous by the minute. Brian waved Juan ahead while he raised the propeller of the motor to slow his boat and let Leon’s boat catch up. Margo screamed and clung to the side of the flat-bottomed boat as it swirled and drifted in the churning water.
Brian called out. “Throw water on him!” He called to Margo then continued to call out Leon’s name. Suddenly, he sat up and shook his head. His eyes were wide with confusion for just a moment before he took control of his Jon boat motor again. He dropped the propeller back into the water and twisted the handle to guide the craft back into the rushing torrent.
Leon settled back on his seat and jerked the tarp back over his head. The roaring grew louder and louder. With a sudden crack of splintering wood, he looked over his shoulder. He stared at the overpass for a minute, then turned to shout at Juan and Brian. His words were lost amid the pelting rain and rushing water, but the frantic pointing at the overpass spoke volumes. He guided the Jon boat closer to Brian and Juan, then yelled, “Let’s move it, man!”
Brian waved his understanding and gunned the engine as much as he could. He carefully worked his way to the center of the stream and let the flood water drive them from the danger of the military base. Juan and Leon followed.
The light of the burning buildings and crashed helicopter faded while the rain swallowed the shores. The further away from the base, they got, the more muted the sound of the remaining gunfire, yet the roar of the raging water grew steadily louder.
Leon guided his boat next to Brian and called over, “It’s gonna bust loose soon. There’s too much water pushing against the jam to hold much longer!”
Brian answered, “It won’t be just debris, there’ll be dead bodies, and those bastards will still be moving. We sure don’t want to be in the water with ‘em.”
“I know a couple places a mile down the creek that we might can get outta this,” Leon answered.
Brian gave a thumb’s up. “Lead the way.”
The tropical storm finally began to wane, leaving the trio of boats motoring down the creek shrouded in the darkness. The only sound was the rushing water surrounding them. They moved further and further downstream through residential areas into a commercial section of the city. The water jostled the boats, slamming chunks of debris into the sides. Each slam against the aluminum jolted the occupants and caused yelps of surprise and terror.
Leon guided the Jon boat closer to the shore watching infected draw closer to the water’s edge. “Not far now!”
“We need to make it quick, Leon. We’re running out of time,” Brian called back.
Juan guided his boat closer to Brian. “Is Dale okay? He ain’t moved since we left the truck.”
Suddenly, Leon turned his boat toward the shore and waved excitedly for the others to follow. All they could see was hurricane fencing at the edge of the water. Juan and Brian followed Leon’s boat to the shore.
Leon grabbed a fence, pulled the boat closer to shore then retrieved a small flashlight from his pocket. He pointed the narrow beam of light into the dark beyond. “Hang on! I think this is it.”
“Well is it or not?” Brian yelled.
A log slammed into the side of Brian’s boat as he held the craft against the fence a few feet down from Leon. “Damn it, Dale. Help me hold this fence.”
Dale shuddered, then slowly got to his feet. The boat tilted and swung out with the sudden shift in weight.
“Sit down and grab the fucking fence, Dale!” Brian yelled.
Dale turned, and the tarp fell from his shoulders, catching in the water, it disappeared into churning torrent. Hearing the raised voices, Leon turned, and the beam of his flashlight whipped around to pan across Dale’s face.
“He’s infected!” Paula screamed and released the fence she had been holding.
Brian saw the gray pallor and vacant gaze of his eyes just as Dale turned and moved his right leg. His foot caught under the seat. He fell toward the back of the boat, his chest landing on the center seat with the snap of bones, his arms still reaching toward the back of the boat.
Brian kicked out, lost his grip on the fence, and the boat spun out and away from shore. He glanced at the others but could do nothing with Dale coming at him. Billy dove across the bow of his boat and grabbed the side of the Brian’s boat while Paula screamed and tried to pull away. Brian faced the monster that used to be Dale and kicked out with a booted foot. The impact barely registered, and the creature pulled himself toward Brian, all the while his jaws gnashing and his teeth snapping. The roiling water spun the boat away from Billy, but he hung on with dogged determination. Debris slammed against the aluminum craft knocking the occupants back and forth. Brian pulled a Ka-bar knife from his belt and jabbed at Dale’s eye. The first swipe deflected from the side of Dale’s head when he flung his arm out to grab at Brian’s leg. The monster, that had been Dale, opened his mouth and leaned toward Brian’s leg. Dale rose on his hands and feet determined to climb over the aluminum barrier between them. Brian kicked with his boot into Dale’s forehead. The momentum threw the massive body off balance, and it fell to the side of the boat. The craft tipped into the roiling water drawing in gallons of water into the bottom. Righting himself, Brian leaned over and stabbed the knife into an eye then jerked his blade free. He gave the massive body one last shove. The monster didn’t move. Throwing his weight against the opposite side of the boat, Brian used both feet to push against the thick body one last time. The massive girth rolled over the edge of the boat and disappeared under the undulating waves, but not before scooping up, even more, water. The craft tilted back the opposite way, and Brian was thrown on the opposite side.
Billy righted the boat at the last minute leaving Bian to reach for a handhold along the river bank to cling to, but it slipped through his grip. The boat, caught by the current, drifted back from the bank barely riding above the waves. The trio of boats had been torn from shore.
“You okay?” Juan asked as both he and Billy steadied Brian’s boat.
“Yeah. Asshole died and turned,” Brian answered as he pulled his camo tarp
back into the boat and stuffed it under the seat. The roar in the distance grew louder and louder almost making their voices unintelligible.
“We have to get outta the creek. It’s higher than I’ve ever seen it,” Leon announced. “All the pumps have shut down, and that shit in the floodwaters is going to be real trouble.”
“Get over here,” Brian yelled over the raging water and waved Billy toward the bank.
Billy clutched at the Jon boat and pulled the two crafts closer. He stepped into Brian’s boat and fell into the seat. He pulled his tarp with him, after a minute he began scooping water.
“Leon, find us a place. Juan, stay close and the first place we can we get the boats out of the water. Stay close to the west bank!” Brian called out. “Leon, use that spotlight to find somewhere to land.”
The trio of boats slammed against debris and the bank when suddenly, Leon yelped, “There!” He pointed toward a sandstone mission tower silhouetted against the sky in the distance. “Around the bend! I know where we are.”
Brian slipped in behind Leon’s boat and motioned Juan to follow. The roar of the water grew ever louder while the swirling torrent climbed higher and higher up the bank. The infected on the banks fell into the creek while large chunks of debris floated by at a terrifying speed.
The three boats made it around the bend and remnants of what had once been a tranquil garden came into view. Ornamental trees and shrubs had been uprooted and ripped from the shoreline leaving long angry gouges in the landscaping.
Leon ran his boat into the rugged slope of mud and dirt. Margo jumped out of the boat and pulled at the aluminum craft until it scraped on the gravel underfoot. Leon joined her and began pulling and tugging the aluminum over the rough ground.
Brian steered the bow of his boat a few feet further downstream into gravel and debris. Billy jumped out and tugged the Jon boat up the grassy slope. Brian jumped out, and together the two men wrestled to move the water laden craft. Leon rushed to pulled supplies from the inside of the boat. The rumble of the flowing water suddenly grew louder. Amid the whoosh of floodwater was the noise of breaking branches and collapsing structures.
Juan guided his boat into the grass another twenty feet further down the bank. The craft began to drift back into the water before anyone could get out and pull it onto the bank. The trolling motor was losing the battle against the current that now raced past the shore. Billy dropped the front of Brian’s boat and raced to shore, diving to catch the bow of Juan’s boat. He twisted around until he dug his feet into the mud then jerked at the bow. He glared at Margo and ordered, “Get out of the fucking boat and help me!”
Margo stumbled from the boat and crawled up the bank where Billy grabbed her hand and slammed it onto the side. Together they tugged at the boat dragging it up the bank.
Juan jumped at the bank, missed the bank and slipped under the rushing water. His head bobbed back up, and Brian arrived just in time to grab Juan by the arm and dragged him to the shore. On hands and knees, Juan climbed up the bank and joined Billy and Margo in pulling the boat onto the grass.
Brian led the two men back to retrieve his boat. They quickly finished offloaded the supplies, checked the battery and tipped the boat to be rid of the water. They reloaded the boat as soon as it was emptied.
“Pick up the boats! Get them as far up from shore as we can! Then we cover with the tarps to keep rain out,” Brian yelled.
With two people on each boat, they stumbled, tripped and man-handled the shallow crafts across the garden to a rock faced terrace. They hauled the boats up the rise, then flopped down on the wet grass. Everyone sat there for a full minute, exhausted.
They watched as a massive floating trash pile rolled and churned amid the wall of water. The torrent rose up the bank nearly ten feet spreading toward the terrace where they rested.
Brian stood and reached for the boat, but Leon raised his hand.
“No need,” Leon said. “It was just the log jam giving way. The water is going down already.”
Still, a little unsure, Brian watched through the darkness as more trash and bodies floated by amid the rolling water. “Let’s find some shelter.”
Brian looked at the closest structure. It was a stone with tall narrow windows at the side. No lights shown through the windows. The building he was looking at was a small chapel in a monastery. The grounds appeared to be surrounded by a stone wall about eight feet tall and included three buildings. Brian turned to Billy. “Come with me. Juan, you and Leon keep watch.” He glanced toward the women. “Stay put. We’re going to check the place out. Watch for trouble. If you hear anything, get two of the boats back in the water and get the hell outta here. We’ll follow if we can.”
Leon and Juan nodded grimly. The two women looked nearly drowned and shell-shocked. Both women shivered uncontrollably. They were all spent. They had to secure a place to rest.
Billy and Brian walked the perimeter of the ground and verified doors were closed, and the gate at the front of the compound was secured. They returned to the chapel and slipped inside the double door. Ten minutes later, they returned to the four survivors. They gathered packs hurried the foursome into the structure. They were safe. At least for the time being.
The End
About the Author
Charlotte Hoaks spent the last twenty years working as a Technical Writer for some of the largest companies in Houston, Texas. Now retired, she is devoting her time and energy to a new kind of writing.
A life-long love of the written word has provided a solid foundation for her fiction writing. She’s been involved in local writer’s groups for over 30 years and published a number of on-line articles, editorials, and special interest newsletter. As a founding member of the Houston Writer’s League, she organized and coordinated their first national writer’s conference.
Thank you for reading “DEAD TEXAS ROADS”. If you’ve enjoyed this novel, please leave a review on Amazon
Want more? Check out the online serial of the Torn Apart Series. http://charlottehoaks.com
Check out the collection of short stories set in the Adrian’s Undead Diary world. “ONLY THE LIGHT WE MAKE” The collection includes DEAD RISING, DAY ONE by C. A. Hoaks and additional authors: Chris Philbrook, Joe Tremblay, Shannon Walters, and many more.
https://www.amazon.com/Light-Tales-world-Adrians-Undead-ebook/dp/B01MRI8H0A
