Riker's Apocalypse (Book 3): The Precipice

by Chesser, Shawn

  As Tara retraced her steps, her image bounced from pane to pane in reverse order, until she was picked up by the camera covering the front entry, where she wasted no time erecting the ladder and arranging the bloody towels on top of the wall.

  If Tara had exited Trinity House like a lion, she came back in like a lamb, closing the front door at her back with all the care of a teenager sneaking in after an unapproved nocturnal excursion.

  Traversing the hall between the foyer and kitchen, Tara said, “Hey Luuucy. I’m hoooome.”

  The obscure I Love Lucy reference drew a queer look from Rose as Tara entered the kitchen. Placing the empty pitcher on the counter, Tara said, “What’s Biter McBiteyface doing?”

  “Nothing much. Still just standing there. I bet it’s waiting to catch sight of something to eat. Or chase.” She shook her head. “I hate biters. I’ve had enough of them to last ten lifetimes.”

  “You and me both,” Tara said. “Did it do anything different after I put the bloody towels up there?”

  Rose shook her head. “Not a thing.”

  “After I wet the blood dried on those towels I smelled that coppery fresh-blood odor coming off them. You’d think if the zombie hunts by smell, he’d be reacting to it by now, right?”

  Nodding, Rose said, “You’re going back out to work?” She bit her lip and worried the dishtowel she’d been holding.

  “I’m going stir crazy in here. Plus, if Flyboy actually shows up and the pad isn’t ready, I don’t know where he’ll land his helicopter. Especially if it’s the same one Lee rented to take us to Niagara Falls.”

  Brows hitching, Rose said, “Why Niagara Falls?”

  Tara sighed. “It’s a touchy subject. I’m not quite ready to rehash it right now.”

  Rose said nothing.

  Tara said, “I’m going to spend another hour or so cutting back saplings. After that, all that’s left to do is trim back the bigger trees.”

  “You have both radios, right?”

  Tara nodded. “Right here in my pocket.” She tapped the monitor. “When I’m about ready to go out the back, I’ll make an X with my arms. OK?”

  Rose said, “OK. Then what?”

  “I want you to create a diversion for me. Slam the front door hard, like I did. That should keep Bitey occupied while I slip away.”

  Face tightening, Rose said, “Should I try to get Lee on the radio? Find out when they’ll be back?”

  “Why? He’s a grown ass man. He’ll call when they’re back in range.”

  Again, Rose bit her lip.

  “Ohhh,” Tara said, eyes widening. “You’re worried about Benny.” Before Rose could respond, Tara continued, saying: “You shouldn’t. Lee has a knack for getting out of scrapes. Oh, the stories I could tell you.”

  Rose forced a smile. “Tonight, then. When they’re all back. Storytime by the fire?”

  Plucking the set of keys off the counter, Tara said, “Deal. You’re going to be”—with her free hand she pantomimed fireworks erupting over her head—“mind blown.”

  Dishtowel clutched tightly in both hands, Rose said, “I want you to check in with me every fifteen minutes.”

  Sensing a reluctance on Rose’s part to remain alone in the house—especially after finding the bunker and all the questions raised by its existence—Tara said, “Deal. And I’m leaving Dozer with you.”

  “Sounds good.” Rose patted the radio in her pocket. “I promise I’ll have this on me at all times.”

  “If Lee calls,” Tara said, “I want you to pick it up. If he needs to talk to me, have him drop off and call back. I’ll hear the second chime and pick it up.”

  Rose said, “Be careful.”

  Patting the Glock on her hip, Tara said, “Always.”

  Chapter 34

  Northeast Santa Fe

  The mini-mall containing the mom-and-pop hardware store Lia had spoken of was roughly half a mile north by east from her house. It shared a misshapen block with a number of other business concerns, all of them facing a small kidney-shaped parking lot. Bordered to the north by a divided two-lane boulevard, and the west by the main arterial that had brought them here, the parking lot was home to only two vehicles: a Jeep Grand Cherokee with faded red paint and a yellow Jeep Wrangler Rubicon whose tan canvas soft top was in complete tatters. It was pretty evident the Rubicon had been set upon by a pack of biters; the side facing the road was dented here and there and covered with bloody handprints trailing feathery crimson streaks. All that was left of the soft passenger-side door was the metal frame and some of the clear plastic that once passed for a window.

  Riker pulled hard to the curb, put the radio to his lips, and thumbed the Talk button. “Keep your eyes open,” he urged. “I want to get a sense of what we’re getting into before we commit to entering the parking lot.” God, grant me the serenity, he thought to himself. It was tedious work having to game every single move six ways from Sunday. He missed the days when he could just wake up, knock down his pushups, strap on the bionic, and walk to the nearest coffee shop to grab a steaming cup of joe. Now, seemingly, there was danger lurking under every metaphorical rock and in every metaphorical crevice. He imagined this must be how the Aussies felt about their existence before all this. What with all the deadly critters Down Under, every second spent in the Outback demanded one exercise extreme caution.

  This new train of thought made him think of Clay, the Aussie gas attendant at the Shell station in downtown Santa Fe. What had happened to him? Santa Fe was a madhouse then. People driving like maniacs. The Smith’s store overrun with panic shoppers. Hell, Santa Fe was a ghost town now. Where did everyone go?

  The rumble of a diesel motor snapped Riker back to the present. Shorty had pulled the EarthRoamer to within a truck length of the Shelby’s rear bumper. The vehicle cast a shadow over Riker’s pickup.

  Over the radio, Shorty said, “Screw glassing the place. Steve-O wants to bust out the drone. Do a little aerial recon.”

  “Not for this one,” Riker replied. “Way to be thinking ahead, though. I’m going to glass the place. If it looks good, I’ll go in on foot and get a closer look.” What he wanted was a moment alone with his thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the dead kids. The pickup driver’s brains dribbling from his fractured skull. Next to him on the blood-soaked bench seat, the passenger curled into the fetal position. What the fuck were they thinking? Maybe this was their idea of living out their favorite video game. The type in which you played the bad guy, cops were the enemy, and citizens the cannon fodder. Or the kind of game where you squad up virtually with people from all over the world, then proceed to engage in digital combat for hours on end. What did they call those games? It came to him almost immediately: first-person shooters.

  Sadly, in this new reality, the dead came back to life, the Thin Blue Line was nonexistent, and incoming fire was real as a heart attack. Benny the bullet magnet could attest to that. Thankfully the only medical attention he had needed this time around was a thorough cleaning and a good bandage job. All of which Riker had provided while Shorty went about siphoning gas from the Escalade and diesel from the lifted pickup.

  Now, in the passenger seat next to Riker, Lia was already busy glassing the mall with the Steiners.

  Benny was in the seat behind Lia, both biceps bandaged, and staring out his window at the mini-mall. Leaning forward, he perched his elbows on the front seats and turned to face Riker. “Assuming we get inside and find everything on your big ass shopping list … how are we going to lug it all across the lot to the trucks? Shopping carts? I don’t want to be going back and forth pushing a noisy shopping cart. There could be biters lurking about. What if those dicks we killed have more friends? Surely they’ll come looking for them sooner or later. Think about it … If you found a scene like we left back there, and those were your bullet-riddled pals, wouldn’t you go on the warpath? Rustle up a posse and start looking for the ones responsible? I sure as hell would.” He bowed his head. His body was
shaking. Clearly, he was agitated. “If that is the case,” he went on, “then I don’t want to take the chance of being the one who gets caught out in the open. I’ve a feeling my luck is spent. I’ve been shot twice already, Lee. Came away with flesh wounds both times. Third time I might not be so lucky.”

  “First of all,” Riker said, a trace of annoyance in his tone, “why don’t you put a little more lemonade in your glass. Positive thinking breeds positive outcomes. Secondly, my big ass list was about a third the size it is now before my sister got her hands on it.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “We’ll collect as many of the items on the list that we can find and pile it all near the door. Then we drive onto the lot and load it all at once.”

  “Minimizes our exposure,” Lia said. “But who’s keeping watch while we’re inside?”

  Riker removed his hat and rubbed his temples. Tossing the Braves cap on the dash, he said, “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have an eye in the sky. So many moving parts, though.” He drew another deep breath, then hailed Shorty on the radio.

  After a burst of static, Shorty said, “What’s up, boss?”

  Riker said, “Steve-O may be on to something. If he can run the drone from inside your rig, I think it would be a valuable asset. I’m going to swap out the batteries and bring everything back to you.”

  “Take your radio,” Benny said. “If we see anything, we’ll let you know.”

  Riker said, “Sounds good. Be right back.” He checked the mirrors, elbowed open his door, and stepped to the empty boulevard.

  “B … R … B,” Lia said, then lowered the binoculars.

  As soon as the door thunked shut, Benny said, “What?”

  “Be right back,” she answered. “I’ve heard that one before.” She raised the binoculars, trained them on the mall.

  Benny asked, “You lost someone?”

  Lia said, “M …Y … O … B.”

  Benny said, “Point taken. Minding my own business.” He craned and looked out the back window. The tonneau cover was now hinged up and blocking everything save for his friend’s head and wide shoulders. Every now and again Lee would bend over and disappear from sight. This went on for a minute or two. Finally, Lee closed the tailgate and dropped the tonneau cover back into place.

  Benny turned around and checked the mirrors again. Seeing nothing moving, he turned back and watched Lee pass the remote through Shorty’s open window. The two men shared some words, then Lee placed the insect-like drone on the EarthRoamer’s hood.

  Benny regarded Lia. “Still looking good?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “Vern’s is boarded over. That’s going to be a problem.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I know Vern, like I think I know Vern, the old coot is holed up inside there.”

  “You know—”

  The driver door opened, and the shrill whine of the drone drowned out Benny’s question.

  Riker climbed in, slid behind the wheel, and closed his door. Looking to Lia, he asked for the Steiners.

  She said, “Looks clear to me,” then dropped the binoculars into his waiting palm.

  Lifting the field glasses to his face, Riker said, “Just to be certain, Steve-O is going to circle the block a couple of times with the drone and tell us what he sees.”

  Benny said, “Lia knows the owner. She thinks—”

  Cutting him off, she said, “I can speak for myself, dude.” Fixing Riker with a hard stare, she added, “I buy all my potting supplies from Vern. In fact, we’re on a first-name basis.”

  Riker said, “You think he’s in there?”

  She said, “I think that’s his Jeep out front.”

  Near simultaneously, Benny and Riker said, “Which one?”

  “The red one.”

  “Good,” Benny said. “I don’t think the owner of the little Rubicon survived that attack.”

  Riker said, “Whatever did that to the Rubicon I’d bet is long gone.” He donned his hat, collected the AR-10 from behind his seat, and went through the paces of making sure the magazine was full and a round was chambered.

  Benny asked, “You still going it alone?”

  Riker handed him the key fob. “If I like what I see when I get there, and Steve-O comes back with good news, you can bring her around. Probably ought to back her in next to the red Cherokee. That’ll make it easier to load everything.”

  Lia squared up to Riker and shot him an icy glare.

  Eyes going wide, Riker said, “What’s this all about?”

  She crossed her arms. “While I didn’t expect you to ask a complete stranger, one who happens to be a girl, to drive your prized pickup, I was hoping you’d ask my opinion about Vern’s.”

  Riker thought about it for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Has nothing to do with you being a girl. I just want to go alone. Fewer people for me to let down.”

  Lia’s glare softened. She said, “Suit yourself, Eli.”

  Already halfway out his door, Riker turned back. “Eli?”

  Benny said, “As in The Book of … Eli. You know the movie, right? The one where Denzel plays the brooding loner.”

  Riker said, “You got it half right,” then set off for the hardware store, alone with his own thoughts and saddled with guilt that he couldn’t quite comprehend.

  Trinity House

  Tara sidestepped the fallen zombies, then turned and locked the perimeter wall door behind her. As she stood there in the open, with the map vivid in her mind’s eye, she cast her gaze north, to the wall of foliage. Somewhere behind the tangle was a road. Or so the squiggle on the map suggested.

  Fighting the urge to investigate, she headed off east, along the short path to the clearing. She had a job to do.

  Depositing her water and bag lunch Rose had fixed for her on the clearing’s edge, she felt a twinge in her lower back.

  “You’re thirty-two, Tara,” she said to herself. “Too young to be breaking down.”

  Taking advice her mom had often proffered, advice Tara rarely heeded, she placed her palms on a nearby tree trunk, planted her feet a yard back from the gnarled roots, then went about stretching her hamstrings and calves. Just as she felt her back pop and some relief was achieved, she heard a much louder pop from somewhere off to her left. Though she wasn’t aware of what was happening to her, a millisecond after hearing the out of place noise she was hit in the left side, just below the armpit, by twin steel-barbed darts. In the next beat, thousands of volts coursed into her body via a thin insulated copper wire. As the modulated current wracked her body, causing temporary neuromuscular incapacitation, she tasted metal on her tongue and was falling face-first against the tree.

  Her eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of her head. With the ongoing internal explosion of electrical current clenching her fingers and limbs, she crashed to the ground, the pile of cut branches providing a semi-soft bed for her twisting body to land on.

  As a cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a pair of black boots entering her field of view. It was the last thing she saw as her vision blurred and she was plunged into an all-encompassing shroud of darkness.

  Chapter 35

  Northeast Santa Fe

  Vern’s Hardware and Garden was bookended by two business concerns that seemed totally out of place. To Riker, putting a day spa offering Brazilian wax jobs and manscaping and a wellness center specializing in acupuncture and reiki anywhere near a hardware store was almost as dim as locating a new age shop selling crystals and aromatherapy crap next door to a Marine Corps recruiting center.

  To the left of High Desert Spa was a chain pet store. Like the spa, it had been completely ransacked, the plate-glass windows reduced to a million little pieces scattered inside and out. A vinyl sign fluttered in the window frame: SELF-SERVICE DOG WASH $10. As Riker stared past the sign, searching the shadowy interior behind it for anything of value, he detected something moving deep in the back of the store. It was bipedal. And moving slo
wly, left to right. A zombie, that much he was sure of. Whether it was a Random or a Slog, he didn’t care to find out.

  After radioing a warning to the others, asking one of them to keep tabs on the thing in the pet store for him, he pocketed the radio, raised the AR level with the shops to his fore, and continued across the lot, head on a swivel and moving as fast as his aching left leg would allow.

  As Riker neared Invisible Healing - Acupuncture and Reiki, located to the right of the hardware concern, he saw that it had been left alone, its mirrored plate-glass windows and glass front door untouched. Even during the apocalypse, he mused, the needs of our pets took precedence over personal well being. Essential oils offered none of the things a four-legged companion could provide. He knew that for a fact. While he had never been much of a dog person, that had changed the second he met Dozer. And as he thought about the gray pitbull, he wondered what kind of trouble Tara was getting the mild-mannered pooch into.

  Stepping onto the cement walk in front of the reiki place, Riker slowed his gait and stole a closer look at the vehicles in front of Vern’s. Sure enough, the Rubicon had been the main focus of a prolonged zombie attack. Or, more than likely, someone had driven it into a horde at a high rate of speed. The passenger side front fender was peeled back. What looked like human hair and scraps of fabric were lodged in the gap where the fender had separated from the grille. In addition to the blood and gore on the flank facing Riker, bits and pieces of skin and flesh were dried fast to the beefy front bumper; some had also become stuck in the grille’s many vertical slots.

  Getting a better angle on the Cherokee, Riker saw that, save for two flat tires, it was virtually untouched. Which made him doubt the attack on the Rubicon had gone down here.

  Inside the EarthRoamer, Steve-O was kicked back in his seat, boots off, stockinged feet planted firmly on the dash. In his hands was the drone’s remote control.