by Joseph Zuko
At the very least it would ease his conscience.
Shawna followed Paul’s every move. As if he were her childhood security blanket. The cramps in her thighs had dissipated, but the shame for her actions against Leon remained.
He shut down my apology. Shawna tried to recall if that ever happened to her before, but she couldn’t come up with a single instance where someone did not want her to say sorry after she had wronged them.
It was driving her nuts. If it was a way to get in her head and mess with her, it was working. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d dismissed her. She pined over it. Such a simple act was making her crazy.
She watched him climb into the bus and inspect the broken lock. He determined it wasn’t something he could fix without tools and went to his next task. Leon grabbed a body and drug it down the steps. He wasn’t a bad looking guy. He had creeped Shawna out with all his weird staring, but that was no excuse for what she said to him.
He expelled the next two bodies from the bus, and armed with baby wipes, begun cleaning the blood off the steering wheel and dash.
Maybe it was for her own mental health, but she was determined to make it up to Leon.
Troy shook the metal links and gave it a test yank, “God, I hope this works.” It was taking forever to get the line attached to the vehicles. All Troy could think about was getting to Desiree’s and tracking down that piece of shit. He promised himself he wasn’t going to freeze up this time. If he had Ryder in his sights he was going to take the shot.
Until this outbreak, Troy had never killed anything. Never went hunting or fishing. Hell, if he caught a spider in his house he wouldn’t stomp it to death. He preferred catching the eight-legged buggers and setting them free in the grass.
Shooting the infected wasn’t like taking a life. Those people were already dead. In fact, Troy thought of it as if he were setting them free. They were trapped as these monsters and every time he ended one it was as close to releasing their souls as he was going to get.
Ryder pushed too far.
Just thinking the man’s name caused his face to go flush.
Troy’s resolve hardened. He even practiced pulling the trigger in his mind.
It played out like this-
Troy kicks the door in. He witnesses Ryder’s shocked expression.
Boom! Boom!
Troy puts two rounds of buckshot in Ryder’s terrified mug.
He looped the mental clip in his mind and each time he focused on living the experience, he swore he could smell Ryder’s body odor and feel the heat of the shotgun in his hands.
Troy banished his fear and threw away his doubt. By the time he had finished locking in the chain, he had killed Ryder sixty times.
“There. That should do it.” Troy picked his shotgun up from the road and got to his feet.
Cooper inspected it once more, “I know the Hummer has the power. I’m just not sure about this chain. I wish we had something a little thicker.”
Alayna chimed in from the turret. “That’s what she said.” A bright grin beamed as she waved her eyebrows at the two men.
It took them a second, but the well-timed humor won the guys over and smiles grew on their faces.
Cooper stepped away from the chain. “I think we’re set.”
“Start them up!” yelled Troy as he took a few extra paces from the tow line.
The V8 rumbled under the hood of the Hummer. Leon started the bus and put it in neutral.
Paul tapped Cooper on the back. “Watch the rear tire on the bus. Once it makes contact, signal the other driver to hit it.”
“No problem.” Cooper angled himself to get a look at the wheel while keeping Leon in his sights.
Paul took position next to Lisa. “All right. Nice and easy. We don’t want to break the chain.”
Lisa nodded and put the beast into gear. She slowly applied pressure to the gas.
The tires chirped. Smoke floated from the burning rubber.
She feathered the clutch and gas pedal. The Hummer eased forward, pulling the bus from the ditch. The rear tire contacted the edge of the road.
Cooper yelled, “Give it some gas!” as he signaled Leon.
Leon got the rig into first and nudged the accelerator.
The tire dug through the soft grass that lined the highway. It found purchase once it touched the blacktop.
The bus lurched forward and was free from the ditch.
Valerie and Robin let out a triumphant cheer.
Troy barked, “Let’s get moving, guys.”
It was like someone kicked a bee’s nest. The group hustled to get the vehicles disconnected and reload the supplies from the van back onto the bus.
Karen and Jim each lugged a duffle bag up the still bloody steps. They dropped the load of guns and ammo at the first available seat.
Leon pointed to the busted lock. “We’ll have to find a new way to secure this door.”
“My Dad has the tools to fix that kind of stuff,” said Jim as he headed back to the van to get the medical bag.
Karen got the little ones settled in their seat and gave them a few Hostess treats. “Here is a Twinkie and a Ho Ho. One for each of you for being so brave.” The snacks brought smiles to the girl’s faces.
Beth entered the rig. She grimaced at the coagulated goo that covered the entry and headed for the center rows. “Can I sit next to you kids?”
“Sure. There’s plenty of space,” said Valerie.
“Twinkies!” shouted Robin as she held the yellow sponge in the air.
“Dang girls, you have the good stuff.”
“There’s more in that bag.” Pointed Valerie.
“Thank you, but I’m going to wait until we get to our destination before I eat.” Beth sat across from the girls. She noticed the massive dent in the side of the rig. She asked Karen who was busy cleaning as much of the blood as possible with the wipes, “What the heck did that?”
Karen looked where Beth motioned, “A horse.”
Beth was flabbergasted. “A horse? Did that?”
“Animals can contract the disease.” Karen tossed a wad of black soaked wipes from the side of the rig.
“Really?”
“Yep. You haven’t run into any animals yet?” Karen headed for the seat behind the girls.
“No.” Beth gently touched the monster sized dent in the steel. A sadness fell across her face as she drifted away into her thoughts.
Jim raced up the steps with the medical bag. He tossed it in with the other duffle bags. Troy was right behind him.
A little out of breath, Troy huffed, “Let’s get this beast turned around, partner.” He patted Leon on the back and headed for his seat. “They’re going to follow us to Desiree’s.”
It was a six-point turn to get the bus headed in the right direction. Once he did, Leon put his foot to the floor.
The box stuffed with ice cold beers sat in the front seat. Jim snagged three. He offered one to Troy, but he brushed it off.
“I want to stay sharp,” said Troy as his fingers fidgeted around the barrel of his shotgun.
Jim offered one to Beth. She took it and gave him a brief grin.
“Thank you.”
“I need a little something extra to take the edge off,” said Jim as he gave a bottle to his wife.
She took the cold beer. They smiled at each other after they realized they would need each other’s help to open these twist offs.
Karen held the bottle with her good hand as Jim popped the cap off with his working arm. They did it once more and both took a long swig of the sweet and bitter nectar of the gods. Jim eased his sore body next to Karen. The whistling wind that poured through the busted windows and bullet holes cause them to talk louder.
“We earned this brew,” said Karen. She slurped another long pull.
“No doubt.”
Karen twisted in her seat and pointed her bottle at the Hummer that followed them. “What do you make of that guy’s total flip flop bac
k there?”
“I can’t say. I have no idea what makes the man tick. One thing at a time. We got the girls back. Now we find Sara.” Jim reached out with his bottle. Karen touched the neck of hers to his.
Clink.
Chapter 21
Ryder stormed along the pavement. His legs and lungs screamed for him to stop, but the adrenaline sizzling through his system allowed him to tune out the pain. His only focus was getting his fingers wrapped around Red’s soft throat. His heart galloped in his chest. Sweat stung his eyes. Ryder regretted his pack a day habit only because it was slowing him down. He wanted to move faster.
Two zombies stepped from a house and shuffled to the street.
Ryder tightened his grip on the knife’s handle. Like a locomotive running late for the depot he plowed shoulder first into the closest zombie, knocking it to the ground as he stabbed at the second one’s eye socket.
The monster on the ground flipped and tumbled into the gutter. Ryder raised his boot above its head and curb kicked its skull into the concrete. Chunks of brain matter went flying in every direction.
He took off like a bullet fired from a gun.
There were three blocks separating him from Desiree’s house.
Would the others still be there? Wondered Ryder.
Am I sprinting headlong into a suicide mission?
His brain understood the danger, but at the same time it didn’t give a shit. He was blinded by his rage and the shot he gave himself added to the fury.
Ryder huffed loudly, “If they’re gone. Desiree’s car should still be in the garage. I’ll take it and hunt those fuckers until I get satisfaction.”
A three pack of zombies raced toward him as he crossed the street. The leader had one broken arm which dangled at the elbow. It swayed back and forth as it jogged. One of its cheeks was ripped open and Ryder could see its red stained molars.
He brought the knife upwards and stabbed the thing through its jaw. As the body dropped, it spun and took the knife with it. Ryder wiggled the blade to extract it. The next monster came racing toward his side and he wasn’t ready to land a killer blow.
Ryder kicked out at the creature’s knee and sent it the wrong direction. The busted limb caused it to tumble into the street. No time to stab the third zombie. Ryder whipped the crossbow around. He put the tip of the arrow to its chin and tugged the trigger.
The bolt launched from the bow and exited the top of the zombie’s skull. Its body collapsed to the sidewalk.
“Hot damn! This little baby has some punch.” Ryder yanked the bolt the rest of the way through the bone and reset the bow with the bloody arrow. He put the weapon on his back and went for the knife’s handle.
The infected with the busted knee crawled toward him.
“What do you want, Slick? You tryin’ to take a bite?” Ryder heaved on the handle and the knife came free.
He put his boot to the monster’s ear and pinned it to the ground. Ryder slid the blade into its temple.
Each kill helped keep his anger boiling. Plus, it was super fun. Ryder loved to watch the light go out in their dead black eyes.
He turned on the afterburners and zoomed across another block. Desiree’s house was now in sight. It was like Christmas morning and that house was the biggest present under the tree.
Ryder aimed for the gate to the backyard. He rocketed his boot into the wooden entry and blasted off its lock. The gate swung wide open.
Ryder had his gun drawn, ready for a fight. He figured if they were here, Red would have told them how she cuffed him to a toilet. The last thing they would be expecting was his handsome ass dropping by unannounced.
The yard was clear except for the two stiffs wrapped in the cheap sheets.
He kept his gaze locked on the windows of the house. Ryder searched for movement as he scooted across the lot.
He reached for the sliding glass door. Locked. Ryder thought about putting a bullet through the glass but didn’t want to waste the ammo. He searched the patio and found a big pot full of flowers. He holstered the gun and knife, picked up the pot and hurled it at the glass.
Sara was about to fall asleep behind the wheel of Desiree’s Mustang. A little dream was already in process. She wrapped her arms around Troy’s neck and was about to plant a kiss on his lips, when the busting glass on the other side of the house ripped her from the fantasy.
Her first thought was, Zombies smashed their way into Desiree’s home.
Then she heard his voice. As if Beelzebub himself was calling her from Hell.
“Red!? Are you in here?!”
She snapped forward. A flop sweat already forming on her brow.
How the hell is he still alive? Thought Sara as she reached for the light switch on the dash. She flipped on the high beams. The sudden pitch black to incredibly bright light strained her retinas.
As quiet as humanly possible she opened the car and raced to the door that led into the house. She spotted Ryder as she reached the entry. His skin was bright red and coated in sweat. His eyes bulged when he spied her.
“I told ya I’m hard to kill, Red!” A pistol came out of nowhere and he fired at her.
The bullet crashed into the door as she slammed it shut. She reached for the lock, but she was on the wrong side of the door for that.
He stomped across the house as she raced for the SKS in the passenger’s seat.
Sara flung open the car door and snatched the rifle by its stock. She spun and dropped to her knee at the same time. Her finger searched for the trigger and found it as Ryder opened the door.
Bullets sprayed wildly as she fired.
Ryder screamed, “Fuck!” and dove for the hallway.
Hanging above the car was the emergency release cord for the garage door. She jumped onto the hood, tugged the rope, and rolled to the driver’s side of the Mustang.
Ryder blind fired into the garage. The rounds pinged off the car’s quarter panel. “I don’t want to kill you!” He popped another shot and peeked into the garage. “You didn’t scream. Did I kill ya?”
Sara stayed low to the ground as she grabbed the handle on the garage door and heaved it up the tracks. The room was flooded with natural light.
“Are you tryin’ to run?”
Ryder inched his head into the doorway.
Sara crawled toward the car and slipped in behind the wheel. She cranked the key and the engine purred under the hood.
Ryder jumped through the doorway.
A blur appeared in the rearview mirror.
Sara put the car into reverse and hit the gas.
The rear bumper came ramming toward Ryder’s knees. He dropped to his belly. The bumper missed him by half an inch and smashed his backpack against the wall.
Sara moved the stick from R to D and floored it.
The car zipped down the driveway as Ryder jumped to his feet. He opened fire into the rear window.
Sara ducked low into the seat, kept the accelerator pegged but couldn’t see where the hell she was going. This was the most powerful car she had ever driven and she wasn’t used to the rear wheel drive. She hit the street and cranked the wheel.
Ryder continued to fire into the car. Glass exploded around her. The headrest blew apart and covered her with, soft fluffy foam.
The rear end got squirrely on her and fishtailed. She poked her head above the console, but it was too late. The Mustang was sliding sideways straight toward a parked car.
She clipped the stationary vehicle doing fifty miles an hour. It changed her trajectory and now she was aiming at a telephone pole.
She crushed the brake pedal with both feet, but it wasn’t enough. The airbag exploded in her face.
Ryder jogged out from the garage, reloaded the magazine, and sneered, “Lady drivers.”
He closed in on the wreck. “Are you still awake in there?” He cocked the slide on his gun and aimed it at the car. “It looks like your friends took off on you. I guess they don’t love you as much as you thought they did. Y
ou’re all alone, Red.” He moved within ten feet of the driver’s door. “Just you and me out here.”
Blood was smeared on the airbag. “I’d hate for ya to be unconscious right now.” He thumbed the sweat out of his eye to keep a clear view of the car. “I bet you have a ton of questions, like, how the hell did I get out of the bathroom? And where did I get all these kickass weapons?”
The passenger door opened. Ryder changed his angle, but he couldn’t see her. He rounded the rear of the car and slowed his progress. “A nice woman named Amber set me free. I was so mad at you that I couldn’t help myself. I smashed the brains out of her skull. She’s dead because of you. You should have killed me when you had the chance, but you’re too much of a pussy.”
Ryder paused for a second, then leaned out from the end of the car. He fired a shot where he thought she was lying. The bullet left a divot in the concrete.
He scanned the area. “Where are you? I know I should be quiet, but I’m too fucking excited. You see I took an adrenaline shot. I needed to make sure I had the energy to get here. Now I think it’s clouding my judgment.”
He checked the interior of the car. Her rifle laid across the center console. “Sweetheart, you forgot your gun. Don’t make this too easy on me now.”
The head of a home-made spear poked from under the car and like a King Cobra’s lightning fast strike, she stabbed Ryder in the meaty part of his calf.
She drove the kitchen knife to the hilt. It went through one side of his leg and popped out the other.
Ryder howled to the heavens. He grabbed at his injured leg. His fist clutched the handle to the spear and he ripped the weapon out of her hands. He stumbled backwards and fell to his ass.
Sara rolled across the asphalt and emerged on the opposite side of the Mustang.
He aimed under the car and opened fire.
Sara cowered behind the rear wheel. Blood trickled from her eyebrow and made it difficult to see.
Ryder grunted and cursed.
Sara tugged at the handle and pried open the door.
Ryder noticed and fired into the car.
Exit holes punched through the metal a few inches from Sara’s face.
