Undead heads swiveled as the 'Cuda thundered by, and then it was gone. The zombies stood there as if befuddled, having lost their prey, and then watched in apparent amazement as a large flock of crows descended and began to feed on the bodies scattered in front of the Armory. With them came the large black raven that had led them, and it was the same that Cy had seen on his dash for survival earlier. It alighted on the nearest body and the surrounding zombies immediately backed away, as if sensing that this one lone arrogant raven packed more evil in its tiny little body than did they and all of their undead comrades combined. The raven cocked its head at them, and then gave a mournful cry so loud and intense that all of the zombies cringed. After that they began to shuffle away. Soon enough all of the zombies were moving away from the Armory and heading back the way they came. That was how both the crows and their fearless leader were allowed to feed in peace, and they fed heartily on the feast of meat that was laid out before them.
"Where to now?" Cy asked, as Lisa gunned the 'Cuda and sent it flying down the city street.
"Hospital," Lisa promptly replied. "It's the closest place that'll have a radio transmitter. It's about ten minutes away normally, but it'll probably take us twenty or more given all the wrecks on the main beltway. There's also a Metro City police substation on the other side of the block where it's at. We might be able to get Kevlar body armor there. If they don't have any, Southwest Sporting Goods might have some, and I'm going there even if they don't."
"What for?"
"Ammo for my AK," Lisa said. "It's the only place close to us where I can get some. Both they and the hospital might also have other supplies we need to get out of town, like food and medical stuff."
Cy thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Makes sense." He gave her a friendly look. "You're a very sensible girl, Lisa."
"Thanks," Lisa said, and then added quickly, "Here comes our exit. Hang on!"
Lisa took the exit to the Metro City beltway on two wheels, having to dodge around a wrecked city bus at almost the last minute. A pack of zombies trapped inside the wreck howled at the 'Cuda as it swung past at a crazy slant. There was a loud WHUMP! as the car came back down on all four wheels, and then it was up the ramp and on the beltway seconds later. Thankfully the section they had just entered was fairly straight and had only a few stalled or wrecked vehicles, so Lisa was able to open up the Hemi and let it go full. The 'Cuda took off like a rocket down the beltway, heading towards its next destination and whatever new unseen foes and dangers lay ahead.
"Hey, Cy?"
Cy turned to look at Lisa. She still had her eyes on the road. "Yeah?"
"When we get to the hospital, I want some of your blood."
This time Cy did a full double-take. "What? Why?"
Lisa gave a stern smile. "I'm guessing the Army or the government gave you and everyone in that stupid convoy some shots or something to protect you from the virus. I don't know what the deal is with me, but I'm not counting on my luck holding. You know? That's why I want some of your blood."
Cy nodded. "Yeah, I know. Yes they did, and I'll gladly give you some, only I don't know how to do a transfusion."
"Neither do I," Lisa said. She grinned this time, and he could see her eyes twinkle even though she kept them on the road. "I know they've got the equipment there. Maybe they'll have an instruction manual or something. If nothing else, they'll have needles."
"That's dangerous," Cy noted.
"You got a better idea?"
Cy thought a moment, then shook his head. "No. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
"We'll have to," Lisa said. She paused a beat, and then added, "Thanks, Cy."
"You're welcome, Lisa."
The inside of the 'Cuda became silent again, save for the steady rumble coming from the Hemi in front. While Lisa remained focused on her driving, Cy turned away and looked out his window. Behind them, downtown Metro City was beginning to recede in the distance. He could see the tall columns of smoke from the fires that were burning in there, and knew that some of them were coming from the remains of his convoy. He could do nothing for his friends and fellow soldiers back there. All of them were dead, and he had been very lucky to escape the carnage surrounding that debacle. There had never been any hope that the convoy would succeed in its mission to begin with, but it had gone in because it was something that had to be done, and it had its orders. Even so, despite the longest odds Cy had ever known, somehow, incredibly, miraculously, he was still alive. For that he had to thank a female stock car racer by the name of Lisa Stanridge whom he hadn't known personally before today, but whom he was beginning to appreciate more and more the longer he stayed with her.
Cy's gaze remained on the view behind and beside the fast-moving HemiCuda, a view that was straight out of a Hieronymus Bosch painting, but he found himself thinking instead about Lisa. She was something else. He liked that something else too. He liked it a lot. He could only hope that he was impressing her as much as she had certainly impressed him. Cy found himself smiling at the thought. What a thought to have in the middle of a zombie outbreak! Nonetheless it was there, and he was glad it was. It gave him hope. Hope. He had hope again, thanks to Lisa, and that was something. In the middle of all of the death and destruction within Metro City, he had hope again ... and he had his unexpected savior to thank for that.
Cy gave a sigh, and then turned back around to face the road ahead while the HemiCuda roared down the beltway. It deftly zig-zagged around the occasional obstacle, Lisa giving it all the speed that road conditions would allow as they sped to their next destination.
Chapter 2
Road Trip
Lisa had been right about the beltway. Once they got around the first big turn, they began to encounter multiple abandoned and wrecked vehicles. In fact it got so bad in places that Lisa was forced to slow down to almost a crawl and take to either the median or shoulder as needed, or even cross over and drive on the opposite lanes until they could get clear of the worst of the jams. A 1971 Plymouth HemiCuda is not a car designed to crawl along at what for it would be a snail's place. To Cy it often seemed the car was complaining, its 425 Hemi motor grumpily growling away through the 'Cuda's Shaker hood as Lisa zigzagged her way around these metal derelicts at a speed well below what it could really do in search of the next open path. It was never boring, for any time they were in sufficient number, then the zombies of their former owners or occupants were often there to greet the pair. It was on occasions like this that their newly acquired Colt .45 pistols came in very handy, in the few instances when they had to fight their way clear. Both Lisa and Cy were crack shots, and the large and heavy .45 ACP rounds they were firing meant that usually it only took one or two shots from either of them to make any given zombie threat eat pavement, instead of the human flesh it desired. Still, it was slow going. A drive that should have normally taken only ten minutes or so, and that Lisa had estimated would take at least twenty, wound up being almost a good half-hour instead.
The two talked during their slow journey to the hospital. It was as good a way as any to pass the time, save for the occasional zombie encounter and put-down. The local radio station was off the air for obvious reasons, and all of the others were carrying 24 non-stop hour news coverage about the Metro City Outbreak. Neither Lisa nor Cy needed to hear the news. They didn't have to be told what was happening. They were living that experience. They talked as Lisa's HemiCuda moved along, weaving its way around the many obstacles on the beltway and towards their far-distant target: the Metro City Medical Center's off-ramp and exit.
"I knew it would be bad, but I didn't know it would be this bad," Lisa was saying, as she scanned the road ahead. "I've been sticking mostly to the side streets and alleys until I rescued you." She thought for a minute, and then added. "You know, maybe we could stop by one of these big rigs, deal with any zombies nearby, and use its CB radio to call out."
"Wouldn't matter," Cy said from his seat beside her, working to reload t
he rest of their empty ammo clips. "The Army's not listening to any civilian racket. It's as bad on the CB bands as it is on the regular radio, or so I was told from our convoy's radio operator before he got killed. Everybody yakkin' about the Outbreak and all. Oh, I'm sure some people tried to call out from here before they turned, but only other civvies would have heard them. The Army's only listening on official military or emergency bands. That's what we gotta use to call out if we're gonna be heard."
"What about using a police car or ambulance radio?"
Cy gave her a look, although he made sure to smile when he did. "Have you seen a police car yet that isn't wrecked? Same goes for the two ambulances and one fire truck we've seen so far."
Lisa bit her lip, and then nodded. "Okay. Point taken." She gave a sigh. "I wish there had been time to use one of those vehicle radios back at the Armory."
"You did the right thing in getting us out of there when you did, Lisa," Cy said. "We didn't have the ammo to hold out, what with that entire downtown horde about to drop down on us and all." He too now sighed. "We'll just have to hope that the hospital's main transmitter is in better shape."
Lisa now gave a chuckle. "You'd think they would have issued you guys personal radios. I know they have them."
"They probably didn't think we'd need them, given that we were all together in one big convoy," Cy said. "I'll concede the point, though. That would have been a good idea."
"Yeah."
Cy now put the ammo clip he had just reloaded into his bandolier. "There," he announced. "All done, both you and me. We're about as ready as we're going to be."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Lisa gave a chuckle. "I'm glad I met you Cy. It's making this easier, you know? Going through it with someone, instead of being alone?"
Cy nodded. "Yeah. I know what you mean." He too gave a low laugh. "I thought I was stuck on my own there for a bit, and then you came along to the rescue. Boy was I glad! Hey, just think of how the news will handle this once they hear of it. Stock car driver and Army corporal survive zombie plague." He laughed again. "God, but I hope we live long enough to actually make that headline somewhere."
"Me too," Lisa agreed, and she chuckled again. "Me too."
Cy took in a deep breath, let it out again, and then looked at Lisa. "May I ask a question?"
"Go ahead," Lisa answered. "Looks like we've got plenty of time."
"How did a good-looking girl like you wind up being a stock car driver?"
Lisa smiled. "Oh, that! Well, racing's in my blood. I got it from my dad. He's a full blood Cherokee from Oklahoma, and he used to race horses. He was unusually small and light, which would have worked against him in the old days, but it was just right for being a horse jockey today. He loved horses, and horses loved him. That was his ticket to bigger and better things when he was young. He wound up becoming a professional horse jockey, racing with various farms and outfits up and down the East Coast, and that was how he met my mom. They met at a race track in Virginia, I think it was, and they got married at another one in Kentucky the next year as part of a big festival they were having there. I was born the year after that, so that kept Mom busy for a while. Dad still raced, but he spent as much time with us as he could.
"We moved around a lot when I was little, but Dad eventually retired and took a job as a horse manager and trainer at one of the breeding farms near here, because it was within easy reach of the Cherokee Nation. Dad wanted to make sure I was thoroughly grounded in the ways of our people, you see. Mom supported him on that, although she made it clear she didn't want to live in Oklahoma, so Uncle Ray came to the rescue. Remember, Mom's brother and the gun nut of the family? He and Dad had hit it off immediately because Uncle Ray had served with some Indians from another tribe in 'Nam and had become good friends with them. Anyway, he found Mom and Dad a place in the country just outside of town and within easy driving distance of the Nation, so they could have it both ways."
Lisa gave a short laugh, and then continued. "As I was growing up, Mom let Dad school me in the old ways of the Cherokee as much as he could, and he took me to the Nation a lot on visits with his relatives there. I developed a great respect for them, and both their ways and what they know about the world that I wouldn't have had otherwise. They in turn eventually accepted me as part of the Nation even though I'm a half-breed and don't actually live in it. On the side, Dad and Uncle Ray also made sure I knew weapons and was trained in survival techniques, even though I was a girl. I remember one week in the summer, right before my senior year in high school, when they had me try out my survival skills in one of the more desolate areas of the Nation with nothing except the clothes on my back and a hunting knife. What an experience that turned out to be, but you know what? I did it, and knowing I did it made quite an impression on the tribal elders. 'Too bad you're not male,' I remember one of them telling me. 'You might have made a good brave back in the day.'" She laughed again. "I thought learning all of that was pretty cool, and maybe I might use it someday if I ever went on an adventure far away or anything, but I honestly never thought I'd have to use any of it until now." She paused, shaking her head as she did, then resumed. "Anyhow, back to your question. Dad's thing was horses and mine turned out to be cars. Once he figured out that was my talent, both he and Mom supported me in every way they could."
Cy nodded. "I'll bet you met a lot of prejudice along the way."
Lisa nodded back, although she kept her eyes on the road. "Yes, I did. I got it both ways, you know. Both for being a girl and for being an Indian. It wasn't so bad for my dad, since horses and Indians kind of go together, but it was bad with me when I was trying to get started. I got prejudiced against because of my Indian blood, but the worst of all was the harassment. People kept telling me that I was a girl and I needed to be a secretary or even a model, not a stock car driver. There were also the hints too, both veiled and not-so-veiled, about how certain people would help me get what I wanted if I'd sleep with them. I turned those down flat, because I knew they were lying. They weren't going to help me. They just wanted to take advantage of me. I already knew what I wanted was possible without them, so I refused them each and every time."
"Good for you," Cy commented.
"Yeah," Lisa agreed. "You know, maybe I did miss some opportunities early on because of my bullheadedness, but I eventually found some decent people - Rob and Cathy Vesper - who were willing to give me a chance, and it all clicked from there. I also had some good examples to inspire me along the way. Jim Thorpe, for one, the Indian who wound up winning at the Olympics. There's also Shirley Muldowney in the NHRA and Janet Guthrie in NASCAR. If they can do it, then so can I. I just kept them in mind every time somebody told me that an Indian couldn't compete against whites, or that a girl shouldn't be a race car driver, and all that. I found somebody who would sponsor me, I did better than everyone expected, and that's how I eventually wound up being a Sportsman division driver and winning the Bellville Cup last year, even though I'm still in my twenties." Lisa laughed "Hopefully I'll earn the right to race NASCAR someday too." She smiled and gave a chuckle when she finished, then spoke again. "So what's your story, Cy?"
"Eh?"
"How'd you end up in Metro City? I mean, I know you came in with that convoy, but how'd you end up in this area in the first place?"
Cy was about to respond when a concerned look crossed Lisa's face. He felt the 'Cuda slow. "What is it?" he asked.
"Look ahead," Lisa said calmly.
Cy looked. There was a large multi-car pileup at the next off-ramp exit, and there were at least a dozen zombies roaming freely in and around it. He gave a disgusted grunt, and then pulled his pistol. "Zombie clearing time again."
"Better get your rifle ready too," Lisa said, "and see if you can reach my AK. You may need its bigger bite before we're done. Save the 'nades for later, for when we really need them."
"Right with you," Cy said, even as he reached behind Lisa's seat so he could get t
o her AK-47.
It took all of five minutes to clear the zombies at the multi-car pileup, and fortunately Cy's pistol was sufficient to do the job. It took another five minutes for them to figure out a way around it, because all off the lanes and the off-ramp were completely blocked. Lisa eventually had to back up enough to get to the last emergency crossover they had passed, get into the opposite lanes, drive on the other side until she could get past the pileup, and then get back over when she could. Fortunately the Outbreak ensured that there was no oncoming traffic, so she made the next crossover with no difficulty. After that, it was back to the proper beltway lanes and on their way again.
"Man, oh man," Cy said, as he rested in the 'Cuda's front passenger seat again. "I hope it's not like this all the way to the hospital."
"Me too," Lisa said. "We've still got three more off-ramps to go before we reach ours."
"We do?" Cy said, cocking an eyebrow at her.
"'Fraid so," Lisa said. "Tell you what. Let's pick up where we left off. How'd a nice guy like you end up in Metro City?"
Cy grinned. "You really think I'm nice?"
"Yes," Lisa said pleasantly, "but please answer the question."
"Thank you," Cy answered, and then he began. "I'm not from around here. I was born and grew up in Belknap, Tennessee. Don't worry if you've never heard of it. It's a little farming town out in the middle of nowhere on the eastern side of the state, total population just under two thousand, and about as segregated as towns in the South these days can get. It had two railroad lines coming through it, one north-south and one east-west, and it split the town into four quarters. That's also how everyone grouped themselves who lived there. All the rich whites lived in the northeast quarter, all the middle-class whites in the southeast quarter, all the poor whites and white trash in the southwest quarter, and all of us blacks and other types in the northwest. We even had our own separate schools at one time too, until the feds came in and made 'em mix everything up, but that town is still split up that way even today and most folks there think it's the right way to live."
Escape From Metro City Page 3
