by Mark Clodi
Paige was falling backwards onto the seat behind her, to one side she noticed the shotgun spinning onto the seat beside her, oh so slowly the zombie girl's hand descended to pound her again. Lifting her gun hand from where instinct placed it to brace for the impact as she fell, Paige struck the zombie girl's hand deflecting it into the metal of the bus seat. They both still hit the bench and tumbled down between the seats to the floor. Cramped was not the word for it. The zombie girl could barely maneuver in the tight space, for Paige the best she could do was to keep deflecting the blows raining down on her.
The next punch landed on the floor, going through it, the girl didn't stop and Paige kept deflecting the blows as they were about to land. She took a couple of shots with her pistol, both flew wide and then Paige took a hit to her left breast.
“Oh you fucking little cow! That hurt!” Paige felt even more adrenaline dump into her bloodstream, and wondered why her breast didn't sport a giant hole like the seat did. She blocked the next punch and when the girl's hand was still in the hole Paige threw a punch of her own, sideways into the zombie's arm, it snapped like so much balsa wood. The minor victory cost Paige a ringing blow to the head and then the zombie girl flipped over backwards clutching her arm. Shaking her head, Paige managed to pull herself to her feet just in time for the girl to try and tackle her in the narrow aisle between the seats. However the zombie lacked the mass to knock Paige over, looking down at the little rodent whose shoulder was pressed tightly against her waist Paige laughed. “You don't weigh enough short stuff.”
Then Paige pistol whipped the girl on the top of the head, the zombie was dazed by the blow, which had been heavy enough to crack in her skull and caused a stream of black half-clotted blood to course down her face in an inky black river. Staggering back gave Paige the clearance to bring her pistol up and fire at the girl, however the movement of the bus interfered her accuracy. The little beast still went down with a shot to her neck, but was not out.
“Jim Tiller!” screamed the girl, which caused Paige to switch her aim towards the back of the bus once again. The zombie girl was twitching around on the floor, possibly the neck shot had disabled her for a while. “Jim Tiller!” the girl screamed again.
The zombie came charging out of the luggage where it had been sequestered, in one hand he held a red backpack, overstuffed with someone's belongings, he threw it at Paige, which distracted her enough to miss the pistol he held in his other hand. He fired even as the pack was in mid-flight.
The first shot hit Paige at an angle high on her forehead, the bullet deflected over her skull, ripping a furrow through her hair and exited with a stream of blood out of the back of her skull to strike a screaming teen behind her just under the shoulder blade. The second bullet went wide and hit one of the two nine year old's in the left hand before it ricocheted into the back of Ken's head, the driver slumped sideways and the bus started to drift towards the median.
The next few shots were fired into the crowd at random near the front of the bus as Tiller worked his way forward to his twitching mistress. Paige was on her back next to her shotgun, the revolver still clutched in one hand as she tried to figure out what had happened to her. Blood soaked into the back of her shirt and pants, like water into a sponge. Tiller gathered up the zombie girl and stood over Paige, he lowered his pistol at the young woman and fired.
To Paige it was as if the earth stood still. She saw Tiller standing there, on one hip was the zombie girl, still twitching frantically, calling his name, even though the man already had her. The pistol, when it fired consumed all of Paige's attention, focusing it to a white hot knife edge as the bullet came out, heading for her face. There was nowhere to run, no way to roll out of the way, nothing she could do, she was going to die.
Screaming as if to deny her fate Paige whipped her revolver around, it was empty, she knew that, but she wasn't going to fire it. The bullet slammed into her revolver shattering it and sending hot fragments into her face and hand. Paige flung some small part of it at Tiller, he flinched and backed away a step, then fired at her again, this time there was nothing left to block his shot with. The click as the firing pin fell on an empty chamber was the sweetest sound Paige thought she had ever heard.
With a roar of defiance she twisted around and scooped up the shotgun beside her. Jim Tiller was in full retreat by then and Paige fired a shell after him, then set off running as the zombie staggered under the blow. As they neared the emergency exit, Tiller jumped and wrapped his body around the girl, landing on the passenger's side of Steve's windshield and busting through it to crush the man riding shot gun there.
The impact as Tiller hit broke the bench seat off of its anchor and pushed it back into the passengers section of the full sized pickup cab, which pulled Steve away from the steering wheel and pedals used to drive the truck. As Paige neared the exit she did not pause to think, the bus was swerving sideways and she squatted down to get a good jump onto Steve's truck, the barrel of her gun tracking Tiller's back. Paige landed on the hood, denting it and bouncing into the hole left by the windshield. Behind her the bus rolled into a stalled car near the median and then slowly came to a stop. Steve's truck, continued to coast along straight on the highway, the vehicle was not moving that fast now, no more than thirty miles an hour, but it was uncontrolled and started to drift.
When Paige hit the open side where the windshield had been her shotgun caught the roof and was jerked around to face behind her, going with the momentum, she simply slammed the butt of the gun into Jim Tiller's back.
Tiller screamed and thrust the zombie girl through the back window of the truck, where she landed in the bed and started sliding towards the tail gate. Then Tiller brought his arm around and blocked Paige's second blow with the gun, he slapped her weakly across the face and twisted the gun out of her hands. The gun was too long to use in the cab, so he chucked it over his shoulder into the pickup bed. Paige reached automatically for her revolver, which was gone, her hands did fall upon the hunting knife she had clipped to her belt that morning. She remembered remarking to Dora that she was taking it in case she had to cut one of the shotguns off of a motorcycle. Dora had responded “Good, because if you are taking it to fight with you'll know your shit has really hit the fan.”
Paige yelled and pulled the knife up in time to block a fist from Tiller. His hand was cut open to the bone, but he used his other one to rabbit punch her in the stomach.
Paige feinted with the knife, punched him with her off hand in the eye then sunk the knife into Tiller's gut. “That really doesn't do anything dear.” Tiller said as he snapped Paige's head back with a series of sharp jabs. Finally he was able to land a full force punch on her jaw that shoved the young woman up against the dash. Using one cowboy booted heel Tiller kicked her in the breast out onto the hood of the still moving truck.
Steve had seen the frantic boxing match and tried to help, however he was caught up in his seat belt and held to the bench seat, which was broken off of its moorings and floating free inside the truck. He realized that he could not steer the truck from where he was nor could he reach the pedals to stomp on the brakes to slow the vehicle down. When Paige hit the hood Steve finally got a grip on the steering wheel. Just in time he steered the truck around another stalled car, as Tiller picked himself up Steve pulled a pistol off of his belt and pointed it right at the man. Tiller swiped his hand to one side, causing the gun to discharge into the passenger door. As Steve brought the gun around again Tiller punched him hard in the neck, pushing the other man against the driver's door causing it to pop open from the force. Steve managed to grab the steering wheel, which caused the truck to swerve sharply, but saved him from hitting the pavement. Tiller raised his hand to chop at Steve's hand and was tackled by Paige who flew off the hood at him. The two of them ended up in the back of the pickup truck with Paige closer to the rear of the truck. The wonder twin was just pulling herself up off of the bed, and croaked out “Jim Tiller.”
Tiller lurche
d for Paige, who ducked at the last second, then raised up, trying to toss Tiller out of the vehicle. Her ploy worked, Tiller was going over the back of the tailgate, as he flew by he reached out his hand and grasped that of the zombie girls who was laying there, both of them ended up on the pavement rolling as the truck continued slowly away. Paige grabbed the shotgun and fired at the zombies as Tiller stood up, her shots did not have any noticeable affect and she had to stop to reload the gun. Inside the cab Steve had one hand on his neck, trying to get air, and the other on the steering wheel to avoid colliding with anything not moving on the highway. He had pulled himself fully into the truck again and once he had cleared the last foreseeable piece of junk in the road he lowered himself down and pressed the brake pedal with one hand, bringing the truck to a stop.
“Steve, you okay?” Paige asked.
He motioned at his neck; he was still having a hard time breathing and couldn't talk.
“Can you breathe?”
Steve shook his head as the world started to go dim.
Seeing him collapse Paige hopped out of the truck and swung open the driver's side door. She pulled Steve out and laid him down on the pavement, then raised his chin, as if she were going to do cardio-pulmonary-resuscitation on him, by then he was unconscious.
“Don't you die on me! Don't you die!” Paige said, lowering her lips to the man's mouth. She pushed air into his lungs, but it was like blowing up a small balloon, the air was constricted and would not flow evenly passed the swelling in his throat. However after three or four blows some air had gotten in, enough to cause Steve to moan and thrash with his arms. As Paige was breathing in a fourth time Steve started to throw up.
“Oh shit!” said Paige as some of the vomit landed on her face and one hand. “Goddamn it, where’s Mary when you need her?”
Steve's vomit turned into a long, low belch and Paige wiped his mouth off and breathed in again. The sour, acidic taste made her want to throw up too, but she kept at it until the other buses had backed up to her and Mary came to her aid. After a few more minutes Mary performed an emergency tracheotomy right on the road, inserting a clear plastic pipe into Steve's airway. Steve's recovery was remarkably fast once he could breathe again, and though he was clearly in pain, he was climbing to his feet when the third bus, escorted by Becka on her beat up motorcycle, drove up. Dora was driving and she swung up along-side of the group on the road and opened the door, calling out “Anyone need a ride?”
Chapter 43
The caravan was reorganized with Dora taking over the third bus. The pickups that had been between the buses were moved so that there were now two in front and two behind to cover the rear. Becka still had her motorcycle to help scout the way in front when it was needed. Dora also made sure that the piles of supplies and luggage were moved around to make it easier to get people to the rear of the bus in case it was needed. Paige was going to be sitting at the back to support the two pickups behind them, she was not alone, a man named Chris had volunteered to help protect the rear bus after the group realized more help was needed. They were all waiting to board the vehicles now and get underway, but before they did so they looked towards Dora and the other council members who had gathered around where Steve was.
Standing Dora addressed the crowd, “We knew this was going to be hard. We knew not everyone was going to make it. The hardest part should be behind us. Did any of you think the farmers would let the cattle go willingly? I didn’t. Perhaps I should have explained this better before we left. I think we have done fine so far, we broke through and we crippled the group of super zombies that were imprisoning us. One of the wonder twins is dead. I killed her myself. Look back there.” Dora pointed to a column of smoke back the way they had come, her finger, however moved further down towards the three cars idling by the side of the road. “That is all that is left of the zombies, we plowed through them with the bus I was on, I don't think I disabled any of them, but I could see there were only about a half dozen of them left. That means we have killed super zombies on a one for one basis with the people we’ve lost so far. Hopefully they will be smart enough to go find easier targets, but if not we will kill them all. We lost Jake, he was a good help, but got hurt too badly to come with us any further. However, he told us where to go, so let's do this. We've got to travel less than a hundred miles and we have ten hours of daylight left, we can do this today and be safe tonight. Is everyone ready?” Dora didn't give them a chance to say 'no' she just nodded and said, “Good, let's go!”
Throughout her speech gunshots had been going off to eliminate the slow zombies that got too close, now the gunfire stopped as people got down off the roofs of the buses where they had been keeping watch and prepared to leave. Moments later a few more shots rang out from inside of the buses to kill any zombies that had gotten too close again during the pause in firing.
Dora shut the door to the bus and while waiting for the vehicles in front of her to start moving she turned to her passengers, “Okay, that speech was all well and good, now here is your little motivational moment. The last bus is going to be hit, and hit hard, we know that, most of you know that and if any of you want to run or cry or piss yourselves that is okay, so long as you are running towards any zombies who get onto this bus, are crying while you fire your fucking guns and are pissing yourselves while you bash the motherfuckers over the head with your bare fists if you have to. Really people, what Paige told me about how you acted before is pathetic. Do you want to live or die? Those of you from the other buses are excepted of course, but anyone on this bus, they fight or they walk. Got it?” The people nodded slowly. “Good, I know I can count on you. Now the back door is broken, we got it held shut with baling wire and duct tape, but it is a weak point, if Paige or Chris need help those of you sitting in the back three rows have to go help them. If you don't I will and I will kick all of your asses down the aisle ahead of me to get there.” Dora turned to a teenaged girl with rifle who was sitting directly behind the driver's seat and pointed at her, “You! What is your name?”
“Jamie.”
“Good. I like that name. Everyone, meet Jamie. She is our backup bus driver. Jamie, can you tell me how much experience you have driving a bus?”
The girl flushed and shook her head, “I...I've never driven before. I am only fifteen, I don't even have a license.”
“And there you have it folks, a few words from our back up bus driver. Jamie will be taking over for me if I have to deal with any problems on this bus. Now do any of us want to see that happen?” Everyone shook their head or said 'no'. “I don't want to see that happen either. Time to go. Jamie?”
“Yeah?”
“I mean it, you’re it. If I have to deal with any problems I will be turning this over to you, so you better watch what I do. And don't worry girl.”
“Why?”
“I only have about five minutes of bus driving experience myself.”
As the last two pickups started moving the three cars with the super zombies also slowly started forward. The little girl in the blood stained white dress looked up at Jim Tiller as he drove the big Ford pickup and said, “If we can't have them, no one can. Right Jim Tiller?”
Tiller merely nodded in agreement.
“You tell me when to get them. You tell me and I will get them. Okay?”
“Don't worry I will tell you.” To the only other zombie in the truck with them Tiller said, “We will hit them when they get close to where the Iowans are fighting the horde. Mo and I will call in all the undead we can to swarm them from the front and we will hit them from behind when they are pinned down. Tell the others.” The zombie in the back called out Tiller's orders to the other two vehicles by leaning out the windows on either side of the pickup truck as they slowly followed the buses.
Farther behind still Jake pulled himself up from the shallow grave he had buried Willy. The man was skinny to the point of being gaunt, his hands and face were pale with splotchy tan spots. His clothing, ripped and bloodstained,
hung on him as if it were three sizes too large, which for now, it was.
He stood after patting the last of the dirt into place and said, “Thanks Willy, you won't come back. I have never been much for words, but you were a good person, you gave your life for what you believed in. I have lived a long time and I can tell you that there have been many men and women who died never finding anything to believe. You were wise beyond your years and if you had lived I have no doubt you would have ruled Iowa and led the charge to kill every last zombie on the face of the earth. I won't kill all the zombies for you, but I will keep my promise to you and to Dora, I will do my best to get the other living to Iowa. Rest in peace young man, you deserve it.”
Turning to go Jake, picked up the shotgun from where he had set it earlier, checking the gun he found he had four shots left. On the way to the blue Caliber Jake picked up Dora's bent barrel shotgun and salvaged another three shots out of it. He was feeling weaker and knew he would not be worth much in a stand up fight, but he still retained his ability to push slower, weaker zombies away from him and he might be able to surprise anyone hassling the buses if he could catch up to them.
Sliding into the driver's seat Jake patted his belly; there was white skin there now, regrown from draining Willy dry. The skin was pulled taunt over his new innards, it was thin and translucent and fully visible through the tears in his shirt, he noted with curiosity that his navel had not come back, nor was there a scar from the appendicitis surgery he had forty years ago. His body was still healing, it was going slower now than when he was feeding, but it was still happening at a rapid rate. The keys were still in the Caliber's ignition, he turned them and the engine came to life smoothly, Jake started forward at the precise moment that the buses moved out ten miles ahead of him.
Chapter 44
