Rotter World (20 page)

“Roger that.”

Both men kept their eyes glued to the sides of the road, searching for street signs. They found it difficult to see them, racing along a rotter-filled road in limited light, with gore from crushed zombies splattering the glass every few seconds. Finally, Thompson patted Robson on the shoulder and pointed.

“There. On the corner. It says Sterling Avenue.”

Robson ran his fingers along the map until he found the name, and then scanned farther, looking for Market Street. Shit. It was the next turn. He looked up just as the armored car entered the intersection.

“Turn here!”

Dravko spun the steering wheel left. The armored car whipped through the intersection and swung onto Market Street, the tires screeching in protest at the sudden change in direction. Robson placed one hand on the door and pushed, trying to keep himself from being thrown against it. Even as the armored car entered the turn, he knew something was horribly wrong. The vehicle continued tilting to the right, the angle slowly getting steeper until it toppled onto its side. It slid along its right flank, chewing up chunks of concrete before eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the intersection.

Chapter Thirty-two

“No!” screamed Natalie when she saw the armored car fail to make the turn onto Market Street. She held her breath as its left wheels left the road, teetered for a second, and then flipped onto its right side. The weight and speed of the vehicle propelled it along, gouging out the tarred surface and plowing through the mass of rotters. It ground to a halt after ten yards, the only signs of movement being the tires that still spun on their axles.

One hundred feet behind the armored car, Daytona slowed as he approached the crash site, quickly calculating his options. Natalie jumped out of her seat and ran forward.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Daytona sounded frustrated.

“We can’t just leave them there.”

“We sure as hell can’t go outside. Not with all these rotters around.”

Tibor stepped up behind Natalie and pointed to the emergency escape hatch in the bus’ roof. “We could go over them.”

“We have ourselves a plan.” Daytona’s frustration gave way to relief. “Tibor, be ready to move when I tell you. Natalie, get the Angels ready. They’re going to have plenty of targets soon.”

Tibor stepped back to the emergency escape hatch, unfastened the locks, and pushed it open. Natalie rushed past him, ordering her girls to action. The Angels lowered the windows on the left side of the bus to give them clear shots, and then stepped back into the aisle, ready for action.

Daytona grabbed the radio and keyed the microphone button. “Mad Dog, we’re gonna try and rescue Robson and the others. Hang tight for a few minutes.”

“Good luck, man.”

Daytona placed the radio back on the dashboard. “Things are about to get hairy.”

* * *

Mad Dog stopped the Ryder and shifted into reverse. The loud, steady beeping cut through the night as the truck slowly backed down the road.

“You’re not leaving them?” asked Tatyana.

“Fuck that. But if we just sit here and wait, these things will swarm us.”

* * *

Daytona swung the school bus in a wide arc, driving through the section of street cleared of the living dead by the crash, and pulled the bus parallel to the armored car’s overturned undercarriage. He inched closer until the armored car’s wheels scraped along the side of the bus. Shifting into Park, he looked over his shoulder.

“Go!”

Tibor jumped up and grabbed either side of the escape hatch, pulling himself onto the roof. He quickly looked around. Hundreds of rotters were closing in from all sides. Their collective moaning mixed with the buzzing of thousands of flies was deafening. He had a few minutes at most to free Dravko and the others.

Jumping the two-foot gap between the vehicles, he landed on the left side of the armored car and moved to the passenger door. It was locked. He banged on the metal, but got no response from inside. This time he pounded harder. Still no response. Morphing into his vampiric form, he grabbed the door handle and pulled, the muscles in his neck and shoulders straining.

* * *

It took only a few seconds for the first rotters to completely surround the bus.

“What are you waiting for?” ordered Natalie. “Fire!”

Fourteen rifles went off simultaneously. At this distance, no one could have missed. A dozen heads exploded, showering the windows and seats in brains and skull fragments. Swarms of flies, dislodged from their feast, flew inside and buzzed around the windows. As the first line of rotters collapsed beside the bus, they were replaced by more of the living dead, each one desperate to claw their way inside. Lifeless hands scraped against the exterior or grabbed hold of the window frames, trying to rip them off. Another volley eliminated these rotters, but more took their place. They were already packed two deep around the bus, with more closing in. The smell of mass decay and spent gunpowder became overpowering, forcing Natalie to place her hand over her mouth.

At the front of the crash site, a single rotter in a tattered jogging suit wedged itself between the two vehicles and pushed its way into the confined space. It stumbled over the front tire of the armored car, falling face first to the asphalt, leaving scraped skin and broken teeth on the ground. Struggling to its feet, the rotter continued to push its way between the two vehicles.

Behind it, a second rotter with two broken legs noticed the gap and began to pull itself onto the armored car’s tires.

* * *

Tibor felt the door’s hinges start to give way on his third try. He paused, summoned all his strength, and yanked again. This time the grinding and snapping of metal accompanied his groan. A moment later, the door broke free. He stumbled backward, momentarily thrown off balance. Whipping the door to his right, he watched it sail over the edge and crush three rotters under its weight.

Tibor leaned through the opening, afraid of what he might find. He yelled into the void. “Hello?”

“It took you long enough,” grunted Dravko.

Tibor breathed a sigh of relief. “Is everyone okay?”

“I’ve got a broken arm.”

“What about the others?”

“I’m fine,” Robson called out from the rear of the car. “But Thompson’s out cold.”

“Pass him to me,” ordered Tibor. “And hurry.”

Robson lifted the colonel and carried him up front, where he and Dravko hoisted the unconscious body up to the open door. Tibor reached down, wrapped his hands underneath the colonel’s arms, and pulled him out. He lowered the colonel onto the metal, and then reached back down into the cab. Dravko went first, clasping his good arm around Tibor’s and allowing himself to be pulled out. Robson followed close behind, using the driver’s seat to climb up. When he reached the open door, Dravko and Tibor each grabbed an arm and lifted him to safety.

Robson looked around and muttered the single phrase, “Holy fuck.”

By now almost two hundred rotters had closed in on the vehicles, most converging on the school bus where they were packed four deep along its left side. Constant gun fire came from inside the bus, dropping the dead in scores. For every one that went down, another surged into its place.

“Come on,” said Tibor. “We don’t have much time.”

Dravko jumped the gap between the two vehicles and headed for the escape hatch, dropping down inside. Robson bent over to pick up Thompson, but Tibor stopped him.

“Go ahead. I’ve got him.”

Robson jumped the gap between the two vehicles and turned, waiting for Tibor. The vampire lifted up Thompson, draped the colonel’s right arm over his shoulder, and vaulted off the armored car. He landed safely, but gravity pulled the colonel’s unconscious body down. He started to slide off the rounded roof of the bus and into the gap between the two vehicles. Kneeling down, Tibor clutched the colonel’s arm, preventing him from falling all the way. However, the dangling legs caught the attention of the jogger zombie. Tibor tried pulling the colonel to safety, but the jogger zombie grabbed his leg and latched on, refusing to let go.

“Shit, one of them has Thompson.”

Robson reached for his sidearm, but could not find it. It must have fallen out in the crash. He knelt and yelled down the escape hatch. “I need a weapon. Now!”

* * *

Daytona heard Robson’s call for help and checked the side mirror, noticing the jogger zombie grasping at the colonel’s legs.

“We’ve got trouble.”

Rashid also saw what was happening and ran to the exit. “I’ve got this.”

Daytona opened the side door. Rashid jumped out into the gap and took two steps toward the rotter, removing his .357 Magnum and aiming. But Thompson’s legs were in the path of his bullet.

“Hey!”

The jogger zombie turned around, standing back just enough that the colonel wouldn’t be hit by the bullet. Rashid squeezed off a single round that blasted away its head. It fell back against the undercarriage of the armored car and slid to the ground. Tibor lifted the colonel up onto the roof and quickly lowered him through the escape hatch.

Rashid spun around and headed back for the door, tripping over the rotter with the broken legs. He fell on top of it and quickly kicked himself off, but in the process moved closer to the front tires and away from the door. Leaning against the axle, Rashid raised his Magnum, aimed at the back of the rotter’s head, and fired. Its head disintegrated.

“Take that, mother—”

A rotter reached over the tires. Grabbing Rashid by the neck, it dragged him out into the street where four more of the living dead descended on him. The kid didn’t stand a chance. He had just enough time to fire off a single round into the face of the rotter that had grabbed him, but before he could move the other four sunk their teeth into his flesh, tearing off chunks of meat. Rashid raised the Magnum, trying to aim for his head. Before he could do so, a fifth rotter grabbed his wrist and bit into his forearm. Rashid dropped the gun and screamed, his death cry drowned out by the carnage taking place around him.

Inside the school bus, Daytona watched helplessly as the zombies tore Rashid apart. He closed the door and bowed his head.

“Go with God, buddy.”

* * *

By now, Robson and Tibor had lowered Thompson into the bus and joined the others. Natalie and Compton had placed the colonel in one of the seats on the right side of the bus.

Robson turned to Daytona, brushing away the flies swarming around his face. “Let’s haul ass.”

“No need to tell me twice.” Daytona shifted into Drive and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The bus did not move. He tried again, applying more gas until the engine roared, but the bus still would not budge.

Robson stepped up behind him. “Why aren’t we moving?”

“I don’t know.” Daytona swatted away some flies that had landed on the gear indicator. “The damn thing’s in Drive.”

A rotter in police riot gear clawed at the door beside Daytona, grabbing hold of the handle and pulling. Daytona glanced over at it, his eyes also falling on the side mirror. He saw the rotter corpses piled up alongside the school bus. The converging horde had pushed some of the bodies underneath and around the wheels, not allowing him enough traction to move. Shifting into Reverse, Daytona tried to back up, hoping to give himself some more room. The bus moved only a few feet before the front wheels became jammed against more bodies.

“Shit!”

“What’s up?” asked Robson.

“The wheels are blocked by rotter corpses. They’ve wedged the tires in place.”

Daytona shifted into Drive and gunned the engine. The school bus shot forward, and then jerked to a stop. The rear wheels dug into the bodies, trying to get enough traction to roll over them, but there were far too many. He tried shifting into Reverse again, but did not move much farther than before.

“Is it going to work?” asked Robson.

Daytona shook his head. “There’s too many for me to get over.”

“So what now?”

“Someone has to go out there and pull those bodies from around the tires.”

Robson looked at him aghast. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Yes. I’m sending someone out there to get killed.” Fear crackled in Daytona’s voice. “But if someone doesn’t clear the bodies from around those tires, none of us are getting out of here.”

Tibor stepped up to Robson. “I’ll do it.”

“No,” said Robson. “I can’t spare you.”

“You can’t spare anyone. But I’m stronger than you humans. I stand a better chance than any of you.”

“Let him do it,” groaned Dravko.

The argument was interrupted when Mad Dog’s voice came over the radio. “Daytona, hold on and get ready for the ride of your life.”

The four stared at the radio, not understanding. Daytona went to pick up the microphone when he happened to see in his rear view mirror the Ryder racing up behind the school bus, the front grill growing larger.

Daytona swung around in his seat, grabbing on to the steering wheel and bracing himself for impact. He yelled over his shoulder, “Everybody, hang on tight.”

* * *

Mad Dog continued his slow retreat down the street, his attention switching between what was behind him and the rescue attempt. Even from this distance and in the dark, he could see the battle around the school bus growing increasingly intense. The flash of rifle fire remained continuous, and the spray of gore and dislocated flies hung around the vehicle like a cloud. Mad Dog watched Tibor’s rescue, thankful to see Robson and the others being pulled from the wrecked armored car. But the mass of rotters swarming the bus made him uneasy.

Thankfully, most of them were attracted by the noise generated by the melee around the school bus and lumbered off in that direction, ignoring him. Only a handful of the living dead came after the Ryder, not enough to be of any concern.

Tatyana leaned forward to stare at Mad Dog. “Shouldn’t we do something to help?”