West of Hell Omnibus Edition (West of Hell 1-3)

by Brant, Jason

  Her hand snapped up the weapon and tossed it down the aisle in one movement. “McCall!”

  He didn’t look up when she yelled his name, and the pistol bounced off the top of his head with a clonk. One of his feet kicked out, landing flush against the knee of the moaner to his right, rending the joint at an unnatural angle. It fell to the floor, though pain never appeared on its face.

  Karen jumped to help him, but stopped short as another cannibal shuffled past him. Its left leg hung limply, trailing behind it, as it shambled toward her. She could see a sheen of light reflect from the exposed femur of the ruined appendage. The clothing, skin, and muscle hung away from the hole in long, blood soaked strips.

  The moaner, as Karen now found herself thinking of them, had been a large man only an hour before. Looking at its wide shoulders, Karen knew she couldn’t overpower it, dead as it might be. She looked around for a weapon while stepping backward, trying to maintain a safe distance.

  William shoved her aside as he barreled down the aisle, yelling his wife’s name. He punched the large moaner in the chest without breaking stride and fought through its outstretched arms. His single-minded attempt to reach his spouse was his undoing as he underestimated the amount of damage the corpse before him could take. It absorbed his strike without so much as a flinch and wrapped its arms around his neck.

  Karen watched helplessly from one of the seats as it bit into the loose, wrinkled skin of his neck. His screams filled the car, drowning out the cries of the young boys. Her hand brushed cold metal and she looked down to see McCall’s Peacemaker wedged under the seat. It didn’t have any bullets, but she could at least use it as a small club.

  She grasped the long barrel in her hand and jerked the pistol free. The heft of the gun reassured her and she struggled back to her feet again. Jones brushed past her as she turned to the aisle and she watched as he kicked out the legs of the moaner feasting on William.

  Bits of flesh fell from its maw as it dropped to the floor, still chewing. Jones pushed the old man away with his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the creature at his feet. He stomped down on its head in three rapid strikes, each sending a sickening report throughout the passenger car.

  Though the skin on its forehead split open, it fought back, reaching for his legs. Jones tried to step away, but his left foot caught on the moaner’s wrist and he fell backward, landing on his ass. His hands were still bound behind his back, keeping him from defending himself as he tried to keep the dead man away from him.

  Karen bound into the aisle, raised the Peacemaker above her head, and lunged at the moaner. It never saw her coming as she brought the notched handle of the gun down on the exposed skull in its forehead. She swung it again in fury, feeling the crunch of bone under the wood more than hearing it.

  She felt its head cave in on the fourth blow and hesitated, watching its limbs go limp, but not trusting that it wouldn’t spring on her as soon as she stopped. Another hammer strike produced no reaction, and she was about to stand when the deafening blast of a gunshot threatened to pop her ears.

  Another shot thundered in the car causing her to drop the Peacemaker and place her hands over her ears. The boys’ cries hit new levels, but she could barely hear them over the ringing in her head. She looked past the body in front of her to see McCall lying on his back with the pistol raised above him.

  Two moaners lay collapsed on either side of him, blood and other unidentifiable liquids pooling under their ventilated heads. He pushed himself to a seated position and sighted two more shamblers entering the car. Karen thought she heard the sound of a misfire, but couldn’t be sure. McCall looked at the gun, his mouth forming a curse, and she knew she had heard one after all.

  The buzzing in her head faded slowly only to come back even stronger as McCall aimed again and fired off two more shots. She felt dizzy as she tried to stand and had to hold onto the nearest seat to regain her balance. Jones managed to stand behind her and yelled something over her shoulder that she couldn’t make out.

  William staggered in the aisle ahead of her, one hand pressed against the spraying, exposed arteries in his neck. He tripped over the body of one of the moaners McCall shot down, and fell into Sarah’s lap. The blood loss from her shoulder made her too weak to push him away from her. The boys backed away, pressing against the window, trying to get as far back as possible. They never stopped crying.

  Several of the spurting jets of blood from William’s neck splashed across Sarah’s face and shoulder, mixing with the crimson that already stained her clothing. Karen had little doubt that the infection now raged through the young mother. She shouted at McCall, trying to get his attention.

  The outlaw staggered forward, unable to hear Karen, and still trying to shoot the oncoming monsters. His gun must have been empty, as he threw it at the nearest moaner before charging at it like a bull. He kicked it in the chest, sending it out the rear door and tumbling out of sight, run over by the wheels of the trailing car.

  Ethel had finally pulled herself out her seat, ignoring the gash on her forearm, and pawed feebly at her dying husband’s neck. The pulses of blood had slowed and now ran in a steady stream from the wound. His eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, looking at everyone in a panic.

  The old woman cried out as he slid from Sarah’s lap and collapsed to the floor. She hunched over him, screaming his name as his hands flopped around in the aisle searching for something unknown. His movements slowed considerably while Karen stepped by them, trying not to look at the horror in their eyes, knowing that his end would arrive within seconds.

  McCall continued fighting in the doorway, doing his best to keep the rest of the moaners from entering the car. Karen moved to help him when Jones yelled from behind her again. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t trying to escape. He shouted again, bobbing his head toward the window to his left.

  “What?” The ringing in her ears, though lessening, still drowned out everything else. She focused on his lips, hoping she could decipher what he said.

  “The Tartarus!” He moved his mouth in an exaggerated way.

  Karen looked out the window and saw a large dam ahead of them, to the right of the train. It looked to be at least a mile away, maybe more, but its incredible size made it visible from a great distance. She had never seen a structure so large.

  “So what?”

  Jones said something else that she couldn’t make out. She shook her head and pointed at her ears before turning back to McCall. Though she knew that Jones had men waiting for them ahead, it wouldn’t do them any good if they didn’t survive the next few minutes. If McCall was as fatigued as she, then he would need all of the help he could get.

  She scooped up the Peacemaker and charged the last few feet to the end of the car. She swung the gun like a tomahawk and felt a satisfying crunch as fingers broke under the blow of the handle. A hand had gripped McCall’s shoulder, but she smashed it away with the gun.

  He glanced over and gave her a minute nod before grabbing the long, blonde hair of the young female moaner rushing at Karen. He twisted its head around and yanked it out of the door and off the train. Karen watched as the body rolled and tumbled in the sand, kicking up dust before it disappeared from sight.

  Two more came through the door, bumping into each other as they came forward in disjointed steps. Karen swung the gun and connected with the temple of the nearest, a teenage girl of no more than fifteen, and knocked her sideways. The momentum from the strike sent both of the infected people over the side of the connecting joint, only to be crushed under the giant metal wheels of the train.

  McCall walked into the next car without hesitation, staying on the balls of his feet, and looked around the seats for other moaners. Karen followed him, the gun held up by her shoulder, her eyes darting from side to side, inspecting the area around her. She spotted a knife under one of the seats and picked it up.

  “McCall,” she said.

  He walked to the end of the car bef
ore looking back at her. She tossed him the Peacemaker. He caught it by the barrel and proceeded to wipe the blood and gore from the handle on one of the seats. After inspecting it for damage, he dropped it into one of his holsters as he came back to Karen.

  “Where did Evans go?” Karen asked him.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. He’s bat shit crazy though. Maybe we should go ask Jones.”

  “What do we do about the wounded?” Karen asked, putting her hand up to stop him. “I don’t think I can kill a mother in front of her two sons.”

  McCall looked past her, thinking the situation over. “I’ll do it.”

  “What about the children? They aren’t going to handle that very well.”

  “I’d rather them hate me than become breakfast for her.”

  The thought of what would come next sickened her, but she couldn’t argue with his logic. No one that was still alive and unharmed would remain so for long if they didn’t take care of Ethel, William, and Sarah. The boys didn’t deserve what would come next, but then again, none of them did.

  “Shit.” Karen led them back into the first car. She stopped long enough to give a mournful look down at Ethel as she cried over William’s body. His skin looked ten shades paler as he lay there. His eyes were still open.

  McCall put his hand on Karen’s shoulder and nudged her past them. “Go see what Jones thinks Evans is up to and try not to get kicked in the stomach this time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Karen said to Ethel, ignoring McCall. She moved past the elderly couple without waiting for a response.

  Jones stood in the middle of the aisle, watching the approaching dam out the window. Karen glanced outside and noticed that they were much closer than before. They would reach the dam in a couple of minutes. The number of rambling dead out the window had dwindled, but she could still see a few dozen. They moved in the same direction as the train – toward the river.

  “What were you trying to tell me before?” Karen’s ears had recovered from the gun blasts and she could now hear much better, despite the ringing that remained.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He didn’t look back at her. “We’re going to make it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The dam was supposed to blow when the train was in sight of it. We had some men waiting, but I’d say it’s safe to say that they didn’t survive.”

  Karen gaped at him. “Why would you blow the dam?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Ethel yelled at McCall from behind them. Karen tried not to look back at the commotion. She knew what was about to happen and didn’t want to think about it.

  “I think it does,” Karen said.

  Jones gave her an appraising look. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

  “I’m no one. Just a lowly prostitute,” Karen said. “Why were you going to destroy the dam? What benefit could that possibly have?”

  “We pulled a job a few days ago. A big job. There’s an army of federal agents on our asses. Our guys were going to blow the dam when we got in sight. Evans and I were going to slow the train down enough to jump off and then allow it to be destroyed by the rushing water.”

  Karen couldn’t believe what she heard. She escaped a city that had become a living hell only to board a train meant for destruction in a matter of minutes. It seemed that no matter what action she took, there would be no escaping her fate. Death followed her doggedly.

  “You want the train gone so the government will presume you dead,” Karen said. “Then you can get away free and clear.”

  “That was the plan anyway.” He looked out the window again. “Before the end of days reared its ugly head that is.”

  “End of days?”

  “For, behold, the Lord cometh out of his place to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity: the earth also shall disclose her blood, and shall no more cover her slain!” Jones nearly shouted the last few words. He continued looking out the window at the dead scattered across the land.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Karen never expected a man of such ill repute to hold knowledge of the bible. Nor did she think he would spout scripture in the face of death. If the specifics of his reputation were true, he had seen and contributed to the demise of more people than she had ever known.

  Even still, the words he spoke rang true to her. Three times now, she had been preached to, and the scripture always seemed fitting. Did her stubborn adherence to logic and reason keep her from seeing the truth of the events unfolding around her?

  “That was Isaiah 26:21. Seems pretty accurate, doesn’t it?” Jones asked.

  “I’m not going to get into yet another religious debate.”

  Jones gave her a questioning look before resuming his moaner watching.

  “Someone in Gehenna espoused the same nonsense you are now,” Karen said.

  The dam exploded.

  Chapter 7

  McCall gently placed both hands on Ethel’s shoulders and tried to get her to stand up. She twisted in his grip, fighting him. Her body felt frail in his hands; as if he would break her if he tried to force her up. He released her shoulders and looked down at the sad, doomed couple.

  When they walked into the car, he had made up his mind that he could deal with what needed to be done. Now that he looked at the two boys and their dying mother, he wasn’t so sure. The elderly husband and wife twisted at his gut, making him feel nauseous.

  Though they were infected with whatever disease spread across the area, they weren’t moaners yet. Killing monsters that tried to eat him alive was one thing, but murdering innocent people proved to be something else entirely. He didn’t think he had it in him to do this after all.

  “Ethel – he’s gone.”

  “No, he’s not!” She looked up at him in genuine anger.

  “I don’t know if it helps or not, but that bite on your arm means you’ll be joining him soon.” McCall regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth.

  Ethel’s anger mixed with fear. She shrank away from him, raising her hands in front of her body. “Are you going to hurt me now?”

  He didn’t know how to answer that. He planned to throw her from the train, but he didn’t want to do it until she was about to turn. Being an outlaw with a conscience didn’t really seem to be working out for him the past few days. He was thrown in jail because he couldn’t shoot the young deputy of Gehenna, and everything had spiraled out of control ever since.

  “Ethel—”

  An explosion rocked the car, the floor vibrating under his feet. He looked around, trying to find the source when he spotted flames out the window. They spiraled into the air, sending a massive amount of small black objects in every direction. He pushed past Ethel and stared out the window.

  What fresh Hell is this?

  Towers of smoke blotted out the sky. The dam, or what had been the dam, sat less than a half mile up the track. McCall guessed it to be another quarter of a mile or so off to the right of the rail. They would break even with it soon.

  “Oh shit,” Jones said.

  Water burst through the massive hole in the dam and crashed against the ground. Mud and soot rolled ahead of the water, cutting a swath through the desert. McCall could see the rough outline of the bed where the river had been prior to the dam. The water followed that path, but the immense amount of it consumed the bed and more, spilling out further and further.

  “Shit... ” McCall echoed Jones, realizing the trouble they were in. The water already approached the tracks ahead of them and they would crash into it soon. They had no ammo or food, and the moaners, as scattered as they were, approached from the East.

  McCall jumped back into the aisle and raced toward the front of the train, hoping the conductor could slow the locomotive. Karen must have realized where he was headed and ran along behind him. He threw the door open and did the same for the engine car. The smell hit him in the face.

  The engine stank of death. Blood coated every surface. Th
e conductor’s head was impaled on a lever in front of the boiler. His mouth hung slack and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. Blood still dripped from the severed neck. His body wasn’t in the room.

  “What the hell?” Karen asked. She covered her nose with her hand.

  “Evans,” McCall said with a grimace. “Sick fuck.”

  He looked over the controls and noticed that most of them were too badly damaged to operate. Evans had not only killed Andrew, he made sure that no one could do anything to slow them down.

  “We’re screwed,” Karen said.

  “That sounds about right.” McCall jogged back into the passenger car and stood beside Jones. They looked out the window and watched the churning water as its level rose higher, engulfing the area. They were seconds away.

  Karen tore past them, running farther down the aisle.

  “What are you doing?” McCall asked.

  “The boys! We have to save the—”

  The train collided with the water, spraying it from under its wheels like a geyser.

  The impact sent the occupants of the car hurdling forward. Jones flew into the front wall of the car, his shoulder wrenching at an odd angle. McCall landed on top of him, feeling his insides smash together. They fell to the floor in unison, a jumble of limbs and blood, as water overtook them.

  Something splashed into the water beside McCall, but he couldn’t make it out through the splashing and bubbles. His head crested the surface and he gulped at the air, taking in giant mouthfuls of it as he tried to shake the water from his eyes. He looked toward the other end of the car and recoiled when he realized it was tipped at an angle.

  More murky water rushed in as the car fell over on its side, dragging McCall along the seats. He fell against the roof, grimacing as he landed against the hard wood. He stood again, this time on the right wall, which was now underneath him. The water rose past his chest and covered his shoulders before he could orientate himself.