Total Apoc Trilogy (Book 2): Fighting the Hordes (5 page)

            "Do you think the guys on the bridge will be okay?" Olivia asked.

            "I don't know," I said.  "I'm worried about them, too."

            Afraid I'd overheat my AR15, I dropped it on the floorboards and pulled Olivia's.  We were more than halfway to the highway, and the zombies weren't as thick thanks mostly to the tractors.  Ralph was actually shooting more to our left rear to help out the guys on the ground.

            "They're falling back," Ralph cried.

            It took me a second to realize what he meant.  The zombies were still charging.  The ground troops were starting to move back onto the bridge.  A moment later we turned onto the service road.

            Once the tractors turned around, the convoy was on its own.  I saw Jake's Trailblazer plowing through them, his cowcatcher push them off to the side.  Still, it was everything they could do to fight off the zombies pressing in from the sides.  The guys inside cabs had doors and windows to protect them.  Everyone in the back of the pickup and us in the jeep were exposed.

            Our progress slowed to a crawl.  I ran out of ammo just as two walkers reached me.  They looked like bloody and battered farmers with wild eyes.  Butt-stroking one away, I kicked the other in the chest.  That gave me just enough breathing room to change magazines.

            Olivia started weaving back and forth across the road to avoid them.  It was everything Ralph and I could do to keep them at bay.  And then we suddenly sped up and veered to the left.

            "Almost on the highway!" Olivia cried.

            I looked forward.  The big trucks in front of us blocked most of my view down road, but as we took the ramp to the highway I could look down it for a few miles.  I saw lots of zombies, but not nearly as many as we'd just plowed through.  They seemed to thin out slowly towards the north.

            "Hey, does anyone know how to change the barrels on this thing?" Ralph asked.  "I don't want to overheat it."

            Wrong time to ask that question.  Jake could've shown us before we left.  Maybe even Officer Hanks knew how to do it.  I've never taken a gun apart in my life.

            "I don't think you have time," Olivia said.  "More walkers ahead."

Chapter 5

            The zombies didn't react well to moving vehicles, so we were able to drive through them fairly easily.  Mostly they stopped and stared at us.  Every last one of them watched us intently, like they were all connected mentally.  If they did have a hive mentality, it wasn't very quick to respond to anything out of the ordinary.

            Most of the convoy was in front of us, so they plowed aside the zombies on the road before we reached them.  Jake used the walkie-talkie to make us stop shooting them.  They weren't a threat, so we shouldn't waste ammo.

            "Shooting a walker is never a waste of ammo," Ralph grumbled.  "Besides, we have a ton of it."

            The convoy sped up considerably as the vehicles reached the highway.  About two miles out of Emory the road was clear.  I could see scattered solitary and small groups of zombies heading south.  The convoy sped up even more.

            "Maybe," I said.  I had to shout now.  With the windshield down atop the hood the wind roared in my ears.  "Don't forget how fast we went through our ammo on the way down from Carson."

            "At least we aren't carrying it on our backs this time," Olivia added.  The vehicles in front started pulling away.  She floored it, but they drove faster.  I looked over and saw we were slowly passing 55 miles per hour.  "Tell Jake this jeep doesn't go that fast."

            I hadn't used a walkie-talkie in fifteen years.  I lifted it to my mouth, keyed it, and tried to speak.  My mouth was forced filled with air and choked off my words.  I had to bend down to get my head behind the dash and out of the wind before I could speak.

            "Jake, or Red Leader," I said, making Ralph snort in amusement.  Olivia didn't get my Star Wars reference.  She probably thought it was just because his Trailblazer was red.  "This is Zombie Patrol.  Slow down.  Officer Hanks said the jeep cruises at 45 to 50 miles an hour."

            "Over and out," Olivia corrected me.

            "Over and out," I quickly repeated into the walkie-talkie.  Then to my friends as I sat back up, "This is too complicated."

            The vehicles in front immediately slowed.  She took her foot off the gas, and I felt the difference in the jeep's ride.  Neither the engine nor the suspension could handle the 60 miles per hour we'd been going.

            I didn't think I could handle that wind all of the way back to Carson.

            "I thought we were Old Rat?" Olivia said.

            "Red Leader to
Geek
Patrol," Jake replied.  "Take the lead, out."

            "Ha!" Ralph laughed.  "He got it."

            "Wait," I said before she started to go around them.  "Pull up closer to the truck in front."

            "Why?"

            "I want to lift up the windshield," I said.

            Olivia shook her head vehemently, while Ralph thought I was crazy.  I didn't see a problem.  I just didn't want a fierce headwind hitting us when I lifted it.  That would snap the windshield up and knock me down, if not out of the jeep.

            "I told you to do that before we left Emory," she said, glaring at me.

            "Just move up close," I demanded.  "If there is still too much wind, then I won't do it."

            She gave me a dirty look.  Ralph sat back and shook his head.  I knew it was dangerous, but I wasn't as worried at them.  Maybe I should be.

            "We wouldn't have this problem if we'd lifted it in place when I asked," Olivia replied.

            My face heated up.  "Just do it."

            Olivia eased us up closer, tailgating the big cargo truck dangerously close.  That provided us a nice relief from the straight in our face wind, making it wraparound behind us wind.  I carefully stood up, leaned out over the hood, and tried to yank the windshield up.  It didn't budge.  Then I noticed how it was held down with catches, and released both catches.  I was precariously stretched across the hood for a moment, and it was a lot easier said than done, but I got it up after that.

            "See?  No problem," I said, grinning as I ensured the windshield locked into place.  There were latches in front of the driver's and passenger's seats.  "Now we can go around them.  And you're welcome."

            "I almost peed myself," Olivia said, scowling.

            I glanced back at Ralph, who was staring at a small group of zombies to our far left.  I noticed the driver and gunner on the pickup behind us were both shaking their heads.  I grinned at them as Olivia let off the gas a bit, backed away from the cargo truck, and then went around to the left.  We hit almost 60 again as we passed the cargo trucks, pickups, and Jake's Trailblazer.

            "You're our guides," Jake radioed.  "Set the pace, out."

            Olivia settled in just over 45 miles per hour.  It was kind of slow, but it felt fast in that jeep.  While we drove, I had Ralph hand me up an ammo box of 5.62mm cartridges.  None of them were in clips, so I had to load them into the empty magazines one at a time.

            I had my head down loading magazines when Olivia asked, "How fast do you think it's safe to hit zombies with our cowcatcher?"

            My head popped up to see about a hundred of them a mile ahead of us.  Zombies didn't move with any kind of organization or thought, so they were spread out across the highway from treeline to treeline.  Most of them appeared to be on the road in front of us, too.

            "Slow down to about twenty," I said.  "Just in case."

            The cowcatcher, which I was thinking of a zombie-catcher, looked rather flimsy to me.  It was made out of inch thick rebar and vaguely resembled a cowcatcher on an old steam locomotive.  I never looked to see how it was connected to the bumper.  Truth was, I was afraid 20 miles per hour was going to prove too much for it, but I didn't want to go too slow through the zombies, either.  20 felt like a slow crawl even in that jeep.

            "Ralph, clear them out as much a possible!"

            "You betcha, Sarge!" Ralph cried.  Olivia cast a quick glance and grin my way.  Have to admit, being called that was a little thrill.  "Die zombies!"

            That M60 was loud in my ears.  He went through a whole belt by the time we reached them.  I opened fire while Ralph reloaded. And a second later we plowed into them.

            "Ugh!" Olivia cried.  It was quite a jolt, but the zombie-catcher worked like a charm.  Walkers went flying to the side, with a few going under the jeep.  Ralph was almost bounced out of the back, his hold on the M6O saving him.  "Sorry!"

            The guys behind us opened up, mowing more down to either side of us.  I thought they were shooting dangerously close to us.  But then a zombie got close enough to grab my shirt, ripping it open.  Ralph quickly kicked him in the head, knocking him away.  Olivia pulled her pistol and shot a zombie that got too close to her.  Then I spotted one running towards up, about to jump into the jeep.  I rose up half out of my seat and slammed the butt of my AR15 into his upturned face.  Jake ran over him a second later.

            And then we were past that little horde.

            "This is much better than the trip down," Ralph said.  "We have to take this jeep when we escape."

            Olivia and I shared a long look.  I could see it in her eyes.  Eagerness.  I felt it, too.  We agreed to lead them to the armory.  I didn't recall promising to go back with them.  It was understood, I suppose.  I grinned at her, and she smiled.  When I looked back at Ralph, he was leaning back in the small bench seat and nodding at me.

            "All of those pickups can outrun us," Olivia said.  "So we have to sneak away."

            "Yes.  I think we have to do it in Carson," I said.  "Probably while they're all loading up their trucks with guns and ammo."

            "It's not going to be easy," Ralph said.  "Especially if the armory has already been looted, as I suspect it has."

            There was that.  I agreed, for Emory, it was worth a try.  If they succeeded, then they'd have weapons and ammo for months.  If they failed, well, they'd run out a couple months earlier than if they didn't try.  I suspected that Jake was also after food, since he brought a lot more trucks than I thought they needed just for guns and ammo.  Also, there were extra men along who could drive any older trucks they might find in the city.

Chapter 6

            "Shhhh," I hissed, crouched over as I skirted the treeline.

            It was just me and Ralph.  Olivia was waiting in the jeep, while the rest of the convoy waited impatiently behind her.  As guides, we were also tasked with the scouting duties.

            "I hear something," I whispered.

            Voices drifted on the wind, coming from the gas station we were sent to check out.  There were two, this one was the smaller, and the one across the highway was a big chain truck stop and café.  Jake wanted to fill up our tanks before we entered the city.

            It was late afternoon and we were still a good hour out of Carson.  Driving 45 miles per hour all of the way made for a long trip.  All of the stops to scout out potentially dangerous spots didn't help.

            "Follow me," I whispered, turning into the woods.

            Sunset was still many hours away.  At least the rain finally went away, but it heated up fast.  Dead bodies produced an indescribably sickening stench in the summer heat.  And there were lots of dead, mostly half-eaten, bodies along the highway.  Places like small towns and gas stations were the worst for rotting carcasses.

            The woods were cooler out of the direct sun.  We moved quietly, mostly thanks to the rains that soaked the dead leaves.  As a rule, neither of us was that stealthy.  We dropped to hands and knees before reaching the treeline beside the gas station.

            "Holy crap, there's a lot of them," Ralph said.

            I nodded.  The sight before us scared the bejesus out of me.  There were motorcycles and RTVs everywhere.  There had to be over fifty men and women.  Everyone was young, in their twenties, and looked tough.  The guys were covered in tattoos, and most of the women, too.  Hoodlums was the first thought in my head, an echo from my grandfather.  Any unsavory looking young person was always a hoodlum in his mind.

            They looked more like young thugs than outlaw bikers.  Many still wore hip-hop clothes, and they were multi-racial.  Most were white, but there were black, Hispanic, and at least three Asians visible.  All of their motorcycles were dirt bikes.

            Several of the RTVs had flags attached to the back.  I saw a couple of Confederate Battle Flags, but most were black pirate flags.  On a few the word "Deathdealers" was written on them in white.  Also, Deathdealers was written on the gas tanks of many of the motorcycles and RTVs.

            "Guess they have a name," I muttered.

            "It's a stupid name," Olivia whispered.  "They're a bunch of morons."

            Some of them were still filling their tanks, but most were standing around and smoking.  Yeah, smoking in a gas station.  I shook my head.  And it wasn't just cigarettes they were smoking.  I could smell pot smoke in the air.  Still, the most interesting thing was they had an older Peterbilt with a gas tank trailer behind it, and they were filling it up from the underground tanks.

            "Jake will want that," I said with a sigh.  I couldn't imagine Emory having unlimited fuel supplies.  I wondered if they'd even thought about finding a tanker on this mission.  "Getting it from them will be a mother."