“But how do you know the bad ones from the good? How can you make that call?”
“Thoughtfully, but in the end you usually only have a split second, and you have to trust your instincts. I was trained extensively to tell the bad guys from the good. When someone is shooting at you, it’s always easier. It’s harder when they haven’t threatened you yet. It’s never easy to take a life, but it is necessary sometimes.”
His daughter wiped the tears from her face and stared out the window. What Emmett told her was the truth, but it wasn’t that cut and dry. There were some who were pure evil and enjoyed killing. Others, like himself, were willing to kill to protect what they had, and others were just desperate. In the end, anyone who threated his life and the life of those he cared about was a “bad guy,” and he’d end them. There would be no hesitation, no thinking. He would give them a swift death so his daughter could live. Was that right? Probably not, but it was what he would do.
The world had come to a place where he had two choices—survive or die. He would survive as long as he could, ensuring Alexis’s safety. She had her whole life ahead of her, if they could just live long enough to get to Alaska. Then, she could have a new life, and he prayed they could make it before the world took more from them.
22
Guns Blazing
Post-outbreak day eight, morning
We’re ready for this, Connor thought. We have to be.
He sat in the middle of the backseat, ready to open the hatch in the roof. Chloe had moved to the third row of seats, so now he could get out from either side. They were back in Montana, having just crossed the state boundary. This was where their journey had begun. It’d been another hundred and fifty miles to the northeast, but they’d almost made a full circle. It felt weird.
So far, it’d been quiet since Sheridan, with no sign of their group or the Reclaimers. A few zombies roamed around here and there, but nothing to worry about. The sun was hidden behind the nimbostratus clouds, and he knew it would rain today. There were five-hundred-foot ceilings and only a half-mile visibility. This wouldn’t be a good day for flying, that was for sure. He thought about Alaska and couldn’t wait to soar through the sky again—the trees and lakes passing below, the mountains rising beside the small plane, and the freedom that only came with flying.
I-90 took a shallow curve to the left and they began to descend into the barren hill country south of Wyola. They drove through a small pass, hills rising on both sides. Being higher than the country before them, he could see for miles and miles. Below them, the interstate continued north, taking a shallow curve back to the right and disappearing behind a hill. Something caught Connor’s eye. At the base of the hill sat a few vehicles, and there were people around those vehicles.
“Damn!” Tank said, slamming on the brakes and swerving off the road to the right.
The vehicles had been just at the edge of sight, and once the angle changed as they dropped into the ditch, they vanished.
“What?” James asked, sitting up straight.
“There are people in front of us,” Connor said.
“Reclaimers?” James asked, coming fully awake.
“I think so,” Connor said.
“It looked like ‘em,” Tank said. “What’s the plan?”
Connor looked around. The hill the people were behind could be climbed from this side without them seeing. At the top there were pockets of green brush and a few tan-colored sandstone outcroppings. It would be perfect cover and only about a three-hundred-yard shot. His Bushmaster ACR DMR, with its turret-adjusting scope would make the shots easier.
“Drop me off here and let me get to the top of the hill,” Connor said. “I’ll confirm they’re Reclaimers, then start picking them off once you guys go in and keep them distracted.”
“So shock ‘n awe,” James asked, “with you on overwatch?”
“Roger,” Connor said.
“Hell, yeah,” Tank said. “We’ll go in with guns blazin’!”
“Keep ‘em off my back,” Connor said, grabbing his AR and slinging it over his shoulder, just in case.
“We will. You sure you wanna go out there alone?” James asked.
“Yeah, it’s far enough that they’ll have a hard time hitting me, unless they take the time to really aim, and it’s up to you guys to prevent that,” Connor said, opening the back door and stepping out.
“Oh, I can cause some mayhem,” Tank said, that mischievous glint in his eye.
“Good luck,” James said. “You mess with the best…”
“You die like the rest,” Connor said, before he turned and started up the hill.
~~~
“Tank, I need to borrow your SAW,” James said, climbing into the back seat.
“But I never got first blood,” Tank said.
Chloe rolled her eyes.
“I know, but I need it,” James said, setting his ACR down on the seat beside him.
“You always have to ruin the fun,” Tank said. “Just like my ‘stang.”
“That was a safety issue,” James said. “We had to make it—”
“Practical,” Tank said. “Yeah, I know. It’s already in the back. Just make sure the first time is memorable.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” James said.
“You’re so weird,” Chloe said from the back.
“You might wanna buckle up,” Tank said. “It’s about to get bumpy.”
“I am,” Chloe said. “Just don’t wreck us.”
James chuckled as he picked up the SAW.
“You need me to do anything?” Chloe asked.
“Just stay buckled and keep your head down,” James said.
“I can do that,” Chloe said.
“That dude is fast,” Tank said, watching Connor hike up the hill.
“He’ll need a little time at the top to get situated,” James said.
“I figured,” Tank said, checking over his plate carrier and tightening his helmet.
“It’s going to get that bumpy?” Chloe asked.
“It might,” Tank said.
“Don’t go too crazy at first,” James said. “I’ll need enough time to get some rounds down range. We need to draw their attention first, then Connor will open fire. With the chaos and the suppresser masking his shots, he’ll be harder to locate. Best case, they won’t even know he’s there.”
“Just like a damn ghost,” Tank said.
“Exactly,” James said. “He’s at the top.”
“I see that,” Tank said. “How long you wanna give him?”
“A couple minutes,” James said.
“Isn’t this waiting killing you?” Chloe said after a minute of silence. “I’m freakin’ out back here.”
“Oh yeah,” Tank said. “I’m just good at holdin’ it inside.”
“Same,” James said.
“At least I’m not the only one,” Chloe said. “What about Connor?”
“Prolly not,” James said at the same time Tank said, “Nope.”
“He’s stalkin’ his prey right now,” James said.
“I almost feel sorry for ‘em,” Tank said.
“They deserve what they got comin’,” James said.
“Oh, I agree,” Tank said. “I just hope Connor saves some for us.”
After a couple of minutes, James glanced up at the hilltop. Connor should’ve had enough time to set up by now.
“Ready?” James asked.
“Almost,” Tank said, scrolling through his iPod. “Got it!”
Comin’ in Hot by Hollywood Undead began to play as Tank stepped on the gas and they swerved back onto the interstate.
~~~
Connor crawled to the peak of the hill and lay next to a sandstone mound. It would obscure most of his body and be a good place to take cover if he needed it. He’d been mistaken about one thing, though. It was at least four hundred yards, maybe a little over. His first shot would be a good ind
ication of how far it really was. The biggest gamble was assuming that the ACR he had was zeroed and would actually hit where it should. At this distance, there was little room for error. Dialing the scope to four hundred yards and turning it all the way to twenty-four power, he looked through it and then slowly backed off the power to sixteen to get the best field of view and less shake. His AR lay next to him, ready to rock and roll. Then, he waited. Tank and James would be heading in soon.
He watched the men and women. Connor couldn’t confirm for sure that they were Reclaimers. They weren’t wearing anything special—like Xs painted in blood on their chests. They did have some heavy firepower and even an RPG. That would be the one he took down first. More than likely they were the Reclaimers, but he’d have to wait and see.
There were ten of them and five vehicles. Well, five working vehicles. There were three more that made what looked like a blockade—a truck was even smoking. It seemed like the other five might’ve taken fire and there was one missing. When the Reclaimers pulled out of their hideout, they’d had six vehicles. Where was the silver SUV that the black-haired woman had climbed into? Two more men and a woman walked out of the trees to the east. That made thirteen total. Not as many as he would’ve guessed, there were definitely some missing. As he watched, the three newcomers walked up to a man who seemed to be in charge. Connor would take him down second.
A vehicle revved up back to his left, and quickly glancing around, he confirmed it was Tank. It was go time. James was peeking out of the hatch on top with the SAW, bipod down on the roof. They rounded the slight corner and were in plain sight of the men and women down below, who began to fire on them without hesitation. James let loose with the SAW. Whether they were Reclaimers or not, at this point they were hostiles and that was all Connor needed to know.
The woman with the RPG moved to take a knee. Crosshairs settling on her chest, Connor slowly released his breath and squeezed the trigger. The round tore through her leg as she knelt. He quickly dialed the turret on his scope to four hundred and fifty yards. Crosshairs settling on her again, he noticed one of the men had scooped up the RPG. Connor readjusted and fired. The bullet slammed into his chest and he collapsed, firing the RPG as he fell. It hit one of their trucks and exploded. Two men went down with the blast, and it knocked more off their feet. The man who was presumably the leader took cover behind the makeshift blockade. As he fired on the LAPV, a bullet whizzed by his head from James. He ducked back down. Connor had a shot through a window in one of the vehicles, and he squeezed the trigger, but the bullet punched into the door just to the right of the window.
Connor cursed, steadied himself, and fired again. This time the bullet shattered the window and entered the leader’s head. He collapsed. Acquiring a new target, Connor watched as another fell to James’s fully automatic fire. One of the women shot an AK-47 at the LAPV as it sped towards them. Connor aimed at her and fired, hitting her in the shoulder. She staggered back and was raising her rifle again when another bullet center-punched her. Connor found a man lying prone next to a truck, firing on the LAPV, and he sent a bullet through that man’s chest and into the pavement.
Something slammed into the rock next to Connor’s face, sending out a small explosion of dust and debris. They were firing at him. Another slammed into the ground in front of him. Searching, he found the man lying partway in a ditch with a bolt-action rifle. A bullet streaked by Connor’s head, and he returned fire but missed his mark by an inch. The man didn’t even flinch. He fired again and the bullet ricocheted off of Connor’s helmet. He cursed, rolling behind the rock.
~~~
Comin’ in Hot by Hollywood Undead blared through the speakers as they rounded the corner. The people saw them and immediately started firing.
“They’re shooting at us!” James yelled from the roof of the vehicle.
“Then shoot back!” Tank yelled as he sped up.
James aimed at the largest group of them and opened fire. To say he was aiming would be a lie. He was throwing as much ammunition as he could at them from the top of a moving vehicle, so he was surprised when two of them dropped to the ground in a spray of blood. He continued to let them have it as they began to dive for cover. Two were behind a truck and James fired on them. After a few rounds, the truck exploded.
“Holy…” James said.
Bullets ricocheted off the LAPV and James lowered his profile in the hatch as he continued to fire, trying to focus more on aiming where the Reclaimers were clustered behind the vehicles. A man stepped from behind the front end of a truck and James filled him full of lead. He fell to the ground, having taken three rounds. They were only two hundred yards out now and closing fast. James continued to fire, surprised the gun hadn’t run out of ammunition yet. Two hundred rounds was a lot compared to a thirty. He dropped a woman who tried running into the trees right before his ammunition ran out. A bullet smacked into the hatch door beside his head, and he quickly ducked back inside.
Surprisingly, only two rounds had hit the windshield, both on the passenger’s side. He grabbed his ACR and popped his head back out. Two of the hostiles jumped into the middle truck and started to pull out. They had to maneuver their way out before they were free of the other vehicles. A man stood up in the ditch and began to run toward the trees. James shot four rounds at him, but all of them missed, and he disappeared into the trees. James shot a few more rounds into the trees to encourage the man on his way. Tank began to slow the vehicle down. They were only fifty yards away from the truck. Moving his sights to the truck trying to get away, he aimed at the driver’s-side window and opened fire. Bullets shattered the glass and the driver slumped against the wheel. The passenger jumped out with his hands in the air.
“Don’t—” he was cut off as a bullet slammed into his neck.
Connor.
Tank slowed the LAPV to a crawl and James glanced around at the vehicles and bodies on the ground. Blood covered the pavement and vehicles, and pooled under bodies. They were all dead.
“I think we got ‘em,” James yelled down at Tank.
“Hell yeah, we did!” Tank said as James came back inside. “I just wish I could’ve joined in. I didn’t even get to run anyone over.”
James chuckled as he switched out his partial magazine for a full one.
“Did you see me blow that truck up?” James asked, still yelling from the ringing in his ears.
“Yeah,” Tank said. “I didn’t think that’d happen in real life.”
“Me either,” James said. “Let’s clear the area, just watch the trees where the one got away.”
“Of course,” Tank said.
“Let me know when it’s safe to come out,” Chloe said.
“Gotcha,” Tank said, opening his door.
“Chloe,” James asked. “Could you hand me one of the drum magazines for the SAW.”
“Sure,” she said as she grabbed one from a bag on the seat, handing it to him.
“Thanks,” James said, taking it and stepping out.
He could see Connor coming down the hill over four hundred yards away. He grabbed the SAW and drum magazine and spent a minute reloading it. Tank walked over to his side and watched as James struggled to get it reloaded. Once done, he handed it to Tank.
“Put a hundred rounds into the trees over there,” James said pointing at the tree line. “Make sure our friend is long gone.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Tank said, walking over to a truck.
Resting the bipod on the hood, he opened fire and bullets peppered the foliage, slamming into wood and cutting through leaves. He did it in bursts, taking a break every few shots and then starting to shoot at a different location. If the last survivor was smart, he would make for the hills.
As Tank covered the trees, James walked up to the first body, drawing his tomahawk. He slammed it into the man’s skull. Moving on to the next, he repeated the process. They needed to be sure none of them would come back. He pulled the blad
e of the tomahawk from the sixth body, a man who’d been burned to a crisp in the explosion. A noise came from his left on the other side of an SUV.
“I got an undead over here,” Tank said, as his suppressive fire stopped.
“One of the people we just killed?” James asked, astonished.
“Yep,” Tank said. “Hasn’t been dead for more than a couple minutes.”
“Why so soon?” James said. “It usually takes longer.”
“Must’ve been bitten at some point,” Tank said, shooting it in the head with his SAW. “There, at least I got to kill something.”
James chuckled, turning around to finish his work. His brother was only a hundred yards out now, but movement caught his attention on the ground ten yards away. It was a woman with a handgun aimed at him. He didn’t even have time to raise his rifle as a bullet slammed into his chest.
23
Lame Deer
Post-outbreak day eight, late morning
Emmett took in the town of Lame Deer, but there wasn’t much left to see. It seemed that the apocalypse had been brutal there. Trash was scattered everywhere and all of the houses looked rundown and ransacked. Someone had come through this town with a vengeance, which was odd since it was literally in the middle of nowhere. He pulled to a stop at the intersection of US-214 and MT-39 when Troy flashed his hazard lights, pulling up next to Emmett’s truck.
“I hate to stop in Lame Deer,” Troy said, “but I’m dangerously low on gas and I don’t think I’ll make it to Colstrip.”
“Okay,” Emmett said, looking around at the few infected shambling toward their vehicles.
“Take a right here,” Troy said. “I think I remember the gas station being down a block or so.”
They turned down the street, Emmett counting the infected they passed. By the time they arrived at the gas station he’d counted two dozen. There were another three in the parking lot. He pulled to a stop next to one of the pumps.
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