Season of Rot (26 page)

Gerald sighed, knowing he’d lost the
argument. “All right. But please tell me we’re not moving far. Some
of the cars can’t handle much more yet.”

Mike shook his head. “We’re just headed up
the road to Jones Creek, far enough to buy us some time and get
closer to Warren’s next raid.”

“Can I go with them this time?” Gerald asked.
“Those guys don’t know crap about what parts we need to keep going
in the long run. I swear they must never read the lists I give to
Warren.”

“Gerald...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m too important and
all that crap. You’d think the apocalypse would’ve spared more than
one engineer, eh?”

“Oh, I think one’s quite enough if they’re
all like you, Gerald.”

He let Mike’s remark slide and changed the
subject. “Guess I better go give Warren’s jeeps a once-over before
his team heads out, huh?”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

Mike smiled as the engineer hurried off,
leaving him alone with his thoughts. The man could be a damn pain
in the ass, but Mike needed him—the whole convoy did—so there was
no choice but to endure his constant whining about the state of
their equipment. Besides, he was right: everything was falling
quickly into disrepair.

#

“Good luck,” Mike said as Warren slid into
the passenger seat of one of the convoy’s three military jeeps.

“You too,” Warren said. He glanced at the
madhouse around them, people loading up the last of their things
and making sure nothing was left behind for the rats to find. He
didn’t like leaving the main group with less than half of its
trained defenders, but he had no choice if they were to survive
long term.

Raising his hand over his head, Warren gave
the rest of his team the signal to roll out. His driver, Matt,
fired up the jeep’s engine and led the others onto the road towards
Greensburg.

“Let’s hope they make it back,” Benji said,
walking up to Mike.

“Warren always comes back.” Mike placed an
arm around the younger man’s shoulder. Though many in the convoy
didn’t approve of their relationship, Mike had stopped trying to
hide it. Some secrets couldn’t be kept in such close quarters.
“Let’s get to the command vehicle and get this show on the
road.”

Two

Warren flicked the lighter, taking a deep
drag off what might be his last cigarette as the sun sank in the
sky. He stood on the hilltop above Greensburg, looking into the
remains of the town, and Michelle and Matt stood at his side.
Behind them, the three combat jeeps were parked in a row; Jenkins
and Daniel leaned against one, inspecting their weapons.

Scott had gone ahead on foot to recon the
outskirts of the town and should have been back by now. The team
hadn’t seen or heard any signs of trouble from below, but Warren
could feel tension in the air, the fear and dread that gripped
soldiers just before the shooting started. “How long?” he
asked.

“He’s been gone nearly two hours,” Michelle
said, and Warren grunted in reply.

“We got a plan, chief?” Jenkins taunted him
from behind.

“How about you drink a nice tall glass of
shut the fuck up?” Matt said, quoting one of his favorite
films.

Jenkins pushed away from the jeep and stood
up straight, his cheeks red with anger.

“Enough,” Warren said. “My guts tell me
there’s a demon behind Scott being late. Maybe more than one.”

The others fell silent. Even Jenkins settled
back against the side of a jeep, keeping his mouth shut for
once.

“Scott’s never late,” Warren continued. “He’s
too damn good for the dead or the vermin to take him down without
him getting off a couple shots.”

“Where does that leave us?” Matt asked,
looking to Warren for direction.

“We’re going into Greensburg and we’re going
to take what we need, demons or not.” Warren tossed his smoke aside
and walked past Matt to the jeeps.

“Whoa, hold up!” Daniel cut in. The hulking
mass of muscle that he was, he still managed to sound like a
frightened child. “Didn’t you just say there may be demons down
there?”

Warren climbed into the driver seat of the
closest jeep and turned its key, revving the engine. Only then did
he speak. “We have to get those supplies or everyone in the convoy
is dead, not just us.”

“You heard the man,” Michelle barked.
“Daniel, you can ride with me and Jenkins. I don’t want you stuck
alone with Scott gone.”

The big man scrambled over to join them as
Warren peeled out down the hill, barely giving Matt time to hop in
the jeep.

The road into Greensburg was filled with
abandoned cars. There was no sign of the dead—even the true dead.
It was odd not to see picked-over skeletons littering the street.
Clearly the rats had swept through this area some time ago.

The wreckage filling the roadway forced the
team to slow down so much that Warren almost wished he’d brought
the tank to clear a path. As the team finally rolled into town, the
dying sunlight vanished from the sky, and night fell over them.

Warren scrapped the lists of needed supplies
in his head, focusing solely on fuel. Something wasn’t right here,
and the sooner he could get his team in and out the better. He
ordered the jeeps to a halt at the first gas station and dispatched
Michelle and her crew to find a tanker truck, which they would use
to haul the fuel. He and Matt secured the station and went to work
on getting the pumps operational; luckily most stations had a
backup generator, and it was just a matter of getting it
running.

By the time the tanker drove up with Michelle
at the wheel and Daniel and Jenkins following her in the jeep, the
lights were on at the station. Warren said a quiet prayer of thanks
that his information about the town had been correct. There weren’t
many places left with easily accessible fuel tankers. Daniel and
Matt leapt into action and began filling the massive tanker to its
brim.

Michelle approached Warren, and his eyes
lingered on her long legs for a moment before he realized he was
staring. He cursed himself for his weakness and got to business.
“Well?”

“No sign of Scott. We haven’t seen a single
rat or walking corpse either. It’s as if this whole town is just
empty.”

“Shit.” Warren grimaced. “It’s a trap. The
rats must have been watching the convoy.”

Michelle retreated a step, as if afraid he
might lose it. “But if it’s a trap, why aren’t we dead yet?”

“It’s not that kind of trap,” Warren
explained, springing into movement. “Finish filling her up, then
get the hell out of here!” he told Daniel and Matt. “I don’t care
where you go, but don’t head to the rally point—no matter what
happens. Understood?”

Both men nodded.

“Keep your radios on and stay sharp. We’ll be
in touch as soon as we can.” Warren sprinted to his jeep, motioning
for Michelle and Jenkins to follow him. “The fucking demons are
making a move on the convoy. We’ve got to get back there—now!”

#

The dead came out of nowhere and the rats
followed in their wake. The convoy had been in the process of
setting up a new camp, and the handful of trained fighters Warren
left behind simply weren’t enough to organize the would-be
defenders. Hundreds upon hundreds of the dead surrounded the camp’s
perimeter as nearly everyone with a weapon opened fire. Most of the
bullets struck rotting chests and arms without real effect; worse,
some of them struck legs and kneecaps, creating crawlers who wormed
their way beneath the protective line of vehicles into the already
terrified mob of civilians. Only a headshot stopped the dead.

One woman, in her attempt to flee, ran in
front of the M-60 mounted on the command APC, and Mike, unable to
turn the heavy gun away in time, watched her body splatter into a
bloody pulp.

Benji sat behind him atop the APC, spraying
the dead with an AK-47 cranked up to full auto.

Waves of rats poured beneath the shambling
legs of the dead, using the corpses as cover as they raced towards
camp. The convoy’s flamethrowers were the only defense against the
vermin, but if Mike ordered them to be employed now, with the rats
under cover the way they were, the whole convoy would be
overwhelmed by a sea of flaming corpses. Somewhere in the battle a
man howled as the rats washed over him, pulling him to the ground
as their teeth tore into his skin.

Mike watched as Gerald and two of his
mechanics struggled to load a group of children into an escape van.
The engineer blasted a dozen rats into blood and bone with his
shotgun. As he went to pump another round into the chamber, a cold
gray hand latched onto his weapon and pulled him face to face with
one of the dead.

At that moment, the ground itself seemed to
shake, nearly blowing out Mike’s eardrums. He lost his balance and
fell from the top of the command car, but Benji grabbed him by the
shirt at the last possible second and kept him from falling off
completely. He helped Mike climb back up, and they looked around
for the source of the quake.

Some idiot had tried to fire the tank’s main
gun, but the shell had detonated against a clog of rats that had
been searching the barrel for a way in. The combat vehicle was now
a flaming mass of wreckage and secondary explosions as its
remaining ammo expended itself in the blaze.

Mike could see Benji shouting something at
him but couldn’t make out the words over the ringing in his ears. A
dead hand reached up from below and took hold of his ankle, trying
to pull him from the vehicle. Benji slid to Mike’s side, pressed
his 9mm sidearm against the creature’s head and pulled the trigger.
Mike jerked free as the thing toppled backwards to the ground.

More explosions rippled through the convoy,
lighting up the night like flares. Many of the cars and trucks were
engulfed in flames.

Mike heard the bullet before it slapped
against his skull. As Benji leaned over him and the darkness
swooped down over his vision, Mike realized too late that he hadn’t
been able to alert Warren and his team to the attack.

#

Michelle could see the fires raging where the
convoy was supposed to be camped, red and orange flames leaping up
into the darkness.

Warren slammed on the brakes and the jeep
came to a screeching halt on the road.

“What the hell are you doing?” she
screamed.

“We’re too late,” he said; he sounded hollow.
He went to slam the gearshift into reverse, but Michelle bolted
from her seat. Warren turned to Jenkins. “Why the hell didn’t you
stop her?”

Jenkins didn’t answer. He was frozen as if in
some kind of shock, his eyes transfixed on the carnage in the
distance.

“Shit.” Warren jerked the gearshift into
park, then swung his feet onto the asphalt and ran after
Michelle.

She was tall and fast, made even faster by
the adrenaline pumping through her veins, but Warren managed to
grab her from behind and bring her to a halt. “Michelle, it’s
over.”

“No!” She tried to shove Warren off of her.
“My brother’s there—we have to help them!”

“Michelle—”

She elbowed him hard in the stomach. Any
other man might have fallen from the blow, but Warren’s training
took over; he spun her around and smashed his fist into her
cheek.

Michelle toppled to the road. She got on her
knees and looked up at Warren with a burning rage in her eyes. He
didn’t have time to argue with her. They had to get out of the area
before the rats from the convoy discovered they were there.

He kicked Michelle in the head, and she fell
over, eyes rolling up to the whites. Then Warren picked her up and
tossed her into the jeep’s passenger seat.

Jenkins was beginning to come around.
“What... what are we going to do?” he asked.

“Survive.” Warren gunned the engine, and the
wheels spun out as he doubled back the way they had come. “Mike!”
he said into his radio. “Mike, if you’re out there, bring anyone
you can to the second rally point. Mike!”

The radio remained silent.

“It’s like you said,” Jenkins reminded him.
“We were too late. They’re all dead.”

Warren tossed the radio aside and focused on
the road in front of him.

#

“Hey there, sis.” Benji smiled as Michelle
opened her eyes. At first she thought she was dreaming, until she
tried to sit up and a sharp pain stabbed through her head.

“Whoa.” Benji gently pushed her back down.
“You had a pretty rough knock to the head.” He laughed. “I told you
that Warren guy was a psycho. Maybe next time you’ll listen to
me.”

Michelle looked around at her surroundings.
She was lying on a makeshift pile of bedding stretched out on the
dirt. The sun was high in the sky, and she could hear people
talking in the distance.

“The convoy was burning.” Tears ran down her
cheeks. “I... I thought you were dead.”

“I almost was,” Benji replied. “Less than
twenty of us made it out of there alive.”

“Mike?” she asked.

“Mike’s fine. A bullet grazed his head, but
he’s fine.”

Michelle squeezed Benji’s hand and smiled. He
nodded and smiled back.

“Where are we?”

“About seventy miles closer to the base
Mike’s been leading us to.” Benji shook his head. “We’re down to
one overcrowded van, a pickup truck that’s nearly falling apart,
and the tanker and jeeps you guys brought with you from
Greensburg.”

“That doesn’t sound too hopeful.”

“Actually, in a kind of sad and sick way,
Mike says we’re better off. We can move faster now and we’re a
smaller target. Mike said the rats may even think they got us all
and leave us alone if we’re lucky.”

“I doubt that.”

Benji gave her a funny look. “Warren said the
exact same thing.”

“Where is that bastard?”

“He’s off with Mike. I think they’re
discussing a faster route to the base since we don’t have as many
people to worry about now. Mike talks like we might be able to
reach the base in just over a day if we keep pushing straight when
we roll out.” Benji paused, “A day, Michelle, can you believe it? A
single day.”