The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel) (5 page)

BOOK: The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel)
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As we stood behind the glass doorway between us and the Z’s that were wandering around the streets, Dax laid out his plan of how we were going to get over to the bank. None of us had considered the thought that it might have been overrun by biters. No, we were going there, because the mighty Dax said so.

I tuned out as he rattled on like an army commander bellowing orders to his platoon. My eyes were fixed on the police station. I could see movement behind the main windows, but I couldn’t tell who it was.

“So are we ready?”

I felt a slap on the arm.

“Did you hear one word of what I said?”

I nodded, still trying to adjust to the fact that we were still alive. Everything felt surreal.

“Now focus.”

Dax pulled back the door and we filed out behind him onto the sidewalk like a line of ants hugging the wall. There was a low mist that hovered through the town like a ghost. It made the place seem even creepier. Z’s immediately noticed us and once again we found ourselves moving fast and shooting. Many of the shots didn’t hit them in the head. It was hard to hit accurately while running.

“Keep up,” Dax yelled.

We were a few feet from the entrance of the bank when I finally could see who the figure was in the window at the station. I squinted. By now the others had made it to the bank and Dax was already inside.

“Dad?”

I began changing direction and heading towards the police station. Specs spotted me.

“Dude, where are you going?”

“That’s my father.”

I fired round after round taking out Z’s, oblivious to the fact that every shot would only bring more of them. Dax came out. I only knew this because he shouted my name.

“Johnny. Get back here.”

The police station was surrounded by a high metal fence with barb wire at the top. I don’t know if they built it because they thought it looked cool, or whether it was some part of the mind tricks that they liked to use on anyone thinking of breaking the law. Within its fenced walls Z’s were roaming around the burnt-out cars like buzzards hovering around dead carcasses. I dropped down low behind a cruiser that had barely made it out the front entrance before it must have been stopped by a horde of Z’s. The windows were busted up. The door was wide open. Dried blood now streaked the doorframe. No one was inside. Only the faint crackle of the radio could be heard.

Dax and Specs sprinted over. The others stayed inside the bank.

“You better have a good reason for this.”

“It’s dad, look.”

Dax looked towards the open door before ducking back down.

“He’s secure. But we’re not.”

Dax’s eyes darted back and forth between the path that led back to the bank and a group of Z’s that were heading our way. They were the slow-moving suckers. Several were dragging their feet as if they had snapped at the ankles. Their moans were getting louder.

“I’m not leaving without him.”

“How the hell do you know he’s not one of them?”

“I don’t. But we need to at least try,” I replied.

He grabbed hold of my collar. “Listen, you asshole. You are going to get us all killed. Look at how many are in front of the station.”

I peered over. There had to have been at least twenty pressed up against the doors.

“Even if you could get over there, you wouldn’t get in. If dad is alive, he would have barricaded himself him. Which is exactly what we need to be doing right now. Now get your ass up or I swear...”

I pushed up against him. “You’ll what? Huh?”

“Screw this, I’m outta here,” Dax said.

With that Dax took off in the direction of the bank, firing off a few rounds at the Z’s. This only made the ones around the police station take notice.

“He’s right, man. We need to go. We’ll get your dad. But right now we got to stay alive,” Specs said.

I took one last look, then gave a nod to Specs. We bolted towards the bank. I used my baseball bat a few times to take out a few heads, and unleash the pent-up anger that I was carrying around.

Jason slammed the door behind us. We were gasping for air. Inside there were dead lying around. Dax went around and stuck his hunting knife into the head of each of them. He wasn’t taking any chances. Meanwhile Scot and Jason used the rope to tie off the door handles while I searched for anything we could jam up against them. The windows in the doors had a fine metal grid inside of them. That industrial strong shit that was super hard to smash. We knew the chances of them breaking through it was slim, but we didn’t want to wake up in the night overrun.

Meanwhile, Baja and Specs followed Dax, clearing each of the offices on the main floor. I heard the sound of a few gunshots and then it was quiet. The plan was to systematically clear each of the five floors.

None of us really had a chance to process the full extent of what was happening. Every thought or decision we made was focused on survival.

“You think we could have holed up in the baker’s? I’m starving,” Baja said.

Specs tossed him a Twinkie.

“Great.”

There was an elevator that appeared to be out of order. No doubt it was filled with Z’s. No amount of punching the button did anything. A set of stairs went up. We crept up behind Dax until we reached the next level. There were so many offices in this place. The building was used for insurance companies, the bank, a call center, and several other financial institutions. Each of them had a floor dedicated to them. Before everything went to shit, there was always an influx of people coming and going. Now it was dead. Literally.

It took us all of thirty minutes to clear each of the floors. The final floor had more Z’s than we had expected. It was the call center. It was weird seeing Z’s walking around with headphones on. It was almost like they were still doing their job. The final stretch of stairs went up to the roof. Baja pushed against it hard and daylight lit up our faces as we stumbled outside. I had imagined that the roof would have had some survivors. But there were none. Not even dead people.

I looked out over the town. We now had an even better view of what we were up against. Below the streets were crawling. Alleys filled and there was a large horde still in the vicinity of where the festival had taken place. On the roof of the local pizzeria, we saw two individuals. They looked like teens. They were alive. We tried to get their attention but they seemed preoccupied with holding the door closed on whatever was banging against it.

“Hey,” Dax yelled but we were too far away.

We were closer now to the gun store. Only four stores away. The thought of not being able to help Jess or my father niggled me. We were running out of bullets. It wouldn’t be long before we’d have no choice but to head over there. As for my father, he wouldn’t be able to live long without food.

Our stomachs grumbled, and now that we were behind the safety of doors, our basic needs began to surface. Hunger, the need for sleep and a shower. Oh what I would have done for a shower. When blood dried on the skin, it became itchy and it stunk worse than a skunk’s ass.

“We’ll settle here for now. It will give us time to figure out what our next move is,” Dax said. But no one could settle. You see, no one is prepared for when Mother Nature flips the switch on society. We assume that everything will remain the same; that armies would come in and save the day, and the government would be able to hold back the flood of any disaster that hit. But this was the worst thing that could ever happen. And there was no one coming to save us. At least that we knew. If anything, it wouldn’t have surprised me if they dropped a bomb on us and just wiped all the small towns off the map.

Even Specs with all his father’s pep talks about the end times, and weekend trips out into the desert to show him how to survive. He never really got it, because he wasn’t listening. Sure there were moments he tuned in, and that’s why he was a little paranoid. But I often wondered if he acted like that just for his father’s sake. The truth was, we knew it wouldn’t be long before the power would go out, water would stop flowing and then what? The thought of being really thirsty was foreign to us. But I had a strong feeling that before this was over, we would come to know what it meant to be thirsty, hungry, and willing to kill even the living to survive. Right now though, it was just a passing thought.

GUN RUN

P
atience was never
a virtue of mine. Throw in the fact there was no internet, we were running low on food and ammo, and all we had was a battery radio that was broadcasting the same message on repeat. You could say, the stress level was running high for everyone.

“I’m hungry,” Scot said, tossing an empty packet of chips to one side.

“We’ll go out this evening,” Dax replied.

Scot rose to his feet. “I’m going now.”

“We go this evening,” Dax barked back.

“Right, cause that makes sense. Go when we can’t even see them. Didn’t they teach you anything in the corps?”

Oh shit, I thought. This was about to go sideways real quick.

“Take a seat and shut the hell up.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I for one am going to get food.”

Dax jumped up, and Scot spun around aiming his rifle at him.

“What are you going to do? Huh?”

Dax put his arm out. “Put it down.”

“Yeah, just lower the gun,” Jason said.

“You siding with them now?” Scot’s eyes darted between them.

“I’m not siding with anyone, but we aren’t going to get anywhere if we start turning on each other,” Jason said.

Scot held it there for a few more seconds then he lowered it. In an instant Dax was on him. He didn’t have a chance to see it coming. Dax shoved him up against the wall.

“You point a gun at me, you better pull the trigger.”

With that he took Scot’s weapon from him.

“We go this evening,” Dax repeated.

He walked away with the gun, Scot slung him a dirty look before disappearing into the stairwell. Jason followed behind him.

“You know he’s right. Don’t you?” I said.

“Don’t you start.”

“Dax, I’m all for camping out here until we can figure out what’s the best move to take, but we need to make sure we’ve got the basics. Ammo and food. We are running low, brother.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. I already know.”

“You can’t control everyone. This is way out of our hands. The only way this is going to work, is if we work together. The last thing you want is to have Scot and Jason gone.”

I held out my hand for the gun. I could see him shaking his head just a little as if some part of him was trying to cling to whatever remaining control he had. Reluctantly he tossed the Winchester rifle to me.

“We’ll be back soon.”

He laughed. “I’m giving you his gun to give back. I’m not giving you free rein to lead them into the next bad choice. I’m going with you.”

“Fair enough.”

Down on the ground floor, Scot was speaking with Jason. It didn’t look good. It was as if they were hatching some kind of plan to leave.

“Here.” I tossed him his gun, hoping that he would be pleased to get it back.

“We’re going on a run for ammo, then food,” Dax said.

Scot still had a hard scowl on his face.

“Listen, a few of us should stay here. No point in all of us going,” I said.

That went over like a wet paper bag. After they unwound the wire, everyone piled out.

“Or, we can all go,” I finished.

T
he gun store
was a block and a half down from us on the other side of town. In between us were several burnt-out cars. Bodies were everywhere. There was no telling if they would rise as we navigated our way through them. It was like a fucking minefield of Z’s. Specs tied off the front of the bank so none of them could get in.

“We sprint it?” Specs said.

“We don’t have much choice,” Baja said.

It was true. There was no real way of doing this. You couldn’t exactly sneak along the side. There wasn’t enough cover. The moment we came out, Z’s were already heading our way. Their faces torn apart. Their groans filling the air.

“This is like Zombiegeddon, except these fuckers aren’t going to tear your tags off.”

“No. They are going to tear your balls off,” Specs replied.

“Fuck yeah,” Baja pumped the air with his fist like an overeager kid excited about obtaining a top score in a video game. I honestly don’t think he had fully clued into the danger that we were in.

“A block and a half, we can do this.”

We began to sprint. We started in a line, but then eventually formed into an arc. Scot was at the tail end, taking out any Z’s from behind. Dax led the way and Baja, well he was just all over the place, throwing out kicks as though this was a scene from
Fists of Fury
. Fucking guy had me in stitches. Though I was thoroughly convinced he had lost the plot when I saw him round house kick a zombie and the head flew off the Z’s shoulders.

“See that shit. That’s how we do it in the hood.”

“Dude, you are not even from the hood,” I said, shooting off round after round.

“What the fuck do you call this place?”

He had a point. Our town looked in worse shape than some of the housing projects in Harlem, New York.

“There’s too many,” Jason yelled. The gunfire was attracting a slew of Z’s that were piling out of the alleyways. But there was no going back. I had run out of ammo, and left my baseball bat back at the bank. Dax had used up all of his, and was now firing off the few rounds he had left in a Browning M2. All I could do was use my legs and kick them back.

“Just take out the fast ones,” Dax said.

The slow ones were easier to take down.

“We’re not going to make it,” Scot said.

I could recognize a lot of the Z’s, even though their faces had eyeballs hanging out, and they were beginning to rot. We were nearing the gun store when more gunfire started. However, it wasn’t ours. I looked up and saw on top of the roof, Jessica and Izzy. Both of them had assault rifles and were laying down some serious heat on the biters in front of us. As they cleared a path for us, I was more worried about being hit by a stray bullet than having one of the Z’s chew into my arm. We ran towards the opening where the cruiser was, and Baja and I were the first inside. Inside the gun store, we immediately started looking for anything to block off the window once they were in. There was no doubt in my mind that the window wasn’t going to hold once the Z’s attempted to get in.

As soon as Scot slid in, Baja and I jammed army fatigues into the hole, then piled several cabinets behind that but not before Scot fired a few more rounds. The noise of a gun going off inside was deafening.

Jessica came running out with Izzy close behind. I grabbed hold of her and we hugged. She kissed my face, and then the tears came.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think any of us are.”

Izzy glared at Dax. They had some history, and a whole lot of bad blood between them. Dax had dumped her before he went off to the military. But I think there was more to it than that.

“Grab what you can now,” Dax said.

We turned to see a wall full of weapons. There had to have been over three hundred stacked like fingers pointing to the ceiling. Tactical rifles like the AR-15, AR-10, bolt action, TAC shotguns, TAC pistols. Below that in a shattered glass cabinet that extended from one end of the store to the other were boxes of ammo, and a delicious selection of revolvers and handguns. Some had already been stolen. Turning around to face the next wall, I stood mesmerized by the amount of shooting gear, lasers, flashlights, knives, holsters, magazines, and optics. There was more here than we would ever need.

That was one thing about our town that they had got right. We were gun lovers at heart. This was the Wild West and shit was about to get real.

The first thing I grabbed was a large black duffel bag. Scot and Jason each grabbed AK-47 rifles and magazines, then kept a close eye on the main door while we started filling duffel bags.

“Just take what you can carry. We don’t want to be slowed down,” Dax said.

Over the next ten minutes we went on a shopping spree. For those few minutes we forgot that the world outside had turned into a flesh-eating fiesta. Smiles appeared on our faces. A new sense of hope could be felt among us. Though unless we could get over to Specs’s dad’s store, we weren’t going to be able to get our hands on any army fatigues, bulletproof vests, or clothing that might protect us from bites. They had gloves, but that was it. I tossed a pair in. The rest was just wall-to-wall guns, knives, and accessories. I threw in some suppressors and whatever else would fit in the bag. It was mostly boxes of ammo, 9mm pistols and a .44 Magnum as I was always partial to a good Clint Eastwood moment.

“Matt’s dad?” I asked Jessica.

She shook her head. Her eyes went between us. “Matt didn’t make it?”

“No.”

And like that the thought of his face flashed in my mind. A hole piercing his forehead before he vanished over the edge.

“Anyone else here?” Dax asked.

“Just us,” Izzy said.

“The dead?”

“There are three out back. We shot two when we got in.”

“I hope you double tapped the head.”

“They don’t have any heads now.”

“Clean. I like it.”

Once we had gathered what we needed, we went up into the apartment above the store. It belonged to Matt’s father. It was strange how every family’s home had a different scent. You could go to four different houses and each one would smell different. Matt’s house always stunk of cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Just a whiff, and I was instantly transported back to a time when dangers were the furthest thing from our minds. Matt didn’t have any brothers or sisters. His father was an asshole. Wherever he was, I kind of hoped that karma had its way with him.

We barricaded the door with furniture and settled in for the night. I began rooting through the cupboards and found boxes of pasta. There was no milk in the fridge. A few eggs and a piece of cheese that looked like it had seen better days. The bread on the counter seemed OK. There was only half a loaf but we couldn’t exactly be picky, at least until we could get to the grocery store. I snorted, at the thought. We’d be lucky if the place was still in one piece. I had visions of all the shelves being empty.

A few years back a sandstorm had blown through our town. For some reason folks thought we were going to run out of water. I had gone to the store and every single bottle was gone except one. Another guy and I looked at each other and he grabbed it before I could.

“Better luck next time, kid,” he said, chuckling to himself like he’d won the lottery.

I wondered if he had ended up as some Z’s Happy Meal. I kind of hoped so.

That night we ate like kings. Compared to the rations that we had on our roof. Which was pretty much junk food. I ate my way through two bowls of macaroni and cheese. Despite the cheese looking a little funky, once it melted, it didn’t taste too bad. I had a feeling we would get used to eating whatever was available.

Once darkness came, so did the silence. The only sound was the occasional groan of the dead. Gunshots had stopped sounding, which wasn’t good news. It meant either people had run out of ammo or were dead. Either way it meant they were threats.

I lay back on the ground with my arm around Jess. She had really long black hair, the kind that came halfway down her back. It was naturally curly. Her eyes were a deep blue, like the ocean, the kind you wanted to get lost in. After the shit we had just been through, she was a welcome sight. We’d hooked up when we were only sixteen. It was a kind of off and on thing. We never really took it serious. A lot of it was just messing around until we hit eighteen and that was when things got heavy. I kind of think it was because of her dad. She was super anal over not getting into trouble. Her dad had raked her over the coals after the one night when she came out with us to fire off rounds. She said her father, Officer Dan Wright, was a good guy at heart. But anytime I saw him, he had this look on his face as though he was trying to penetrate my thoughts. It used to freak me out.

He and my father got along like a house on fire. I think it was because he was constantly visiting the saloon most evenings to turf out drunks.

“Your dad?” I asked Jess.

“I don’t know if he’s alive. We were just getting back from the store with my mother when this lady came out of nowhere and attacked her. I thought she was on drugs or something. When I saw the blood I froze. I would have probably been next if it wasn’t for Izzy. She KO’d her. I tried to help my mother but…” she trailed off. I could see her eyes tearing up. “There was so much blood. So much.”

She stared at her stained hands.

“Your brother?”

“He was at the festival. I haven’t seen him.”

“How did you get the cruiser?”

“We ran. We just kept running until we reached the station. By that time all hell had broken loose on the streets. My father put us in a cruiser and told us to get back to the house and lock ourselves in. As you saw, we didn’t even make it that far. There were too many. The sound of them hitting the top of the roof as we knocked them down. One after one.” She squeezed her lids shut. I ran my hand over her face. Jason was watching. He would look out the window, then back at us. He’d always had a thing for Jessica. They never went out with each other, but there was some definite fuck me eyes going on across the room. The thing was Jess had a body on her. Like it wasn’t model-like. But it was curvy and for her age, hot as hell.

I didn’t want my mind to go there. But it did. What happens when society breaks down? When there is no infrastructure in place, or law to govern the actions of man? Sex was a deep need in all of us. A drive that could compel us to do stupid things even when there was a law, but now? I felt even more protective of her.

We sat in silence, occasionally Scot would mutter something about a biter. Whatever had hit our town had swept through it like a wildfire. The devastation had hit hard and few had a chance to escape. Those that were alive, were probably holed up inside their homes. Most folks owned guns. It was just expected.

Specs kept pacing the room. I could see he was agitated.

“Sit down, dweeb,” Jason said. “You are starting to get on my nerves.”

“Give it a rest,” I said.

He scowled back at me.

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