The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel) (8 page)

B
aja was completely
oblivious to how long we had been gone. He was still driving back and forth with the car, leading the Z’s like the Piped Piper of Hamelin. He would stop, get out, rest his assault rifle on the top of the door, and unload an entire magazine of ammo. He actually looked like he was enjoying it.

We began waving frantically. Seeing us, he waved and continued shooting a few more. Getting down would be easy. We could hang from the edge and drop down on to the top of the truck’s container. From there it was a skip and jump down to the ground.

Within five minutes we were all back inside the warmth of the cruiser. I turned up the heat, still trying to thaw out our fingers. It felt like someone was jabbing needles into my toes and fingers.

When we returned, we parked around back, keeping the driver’s side within a couple of feet of the door. Thankfully there were only a few zombies hanging around the back. We shot them and disappeared inside. Specs secured the door and we carried up the heavy shopping bags.

Scot and Jason immediately came over like buzzards looking to devour whatever we had managed to get.

“How did it go?”

“Cool,” I said in jest.

Specs was still hobbling slightly.

“What the hell happened to him?”

“He shot me.”

Dax threw me a look.

I held up the shopping bags and shrugged. “I got steaks.”

Jessica fished around inside the cabinets until she found a medical kit. She soon had him patched up as though nothing had happened.

That night we would eat like kings. Lunch might have been good if it wasn’t for the sound of guns going off. Scot poked his head out the window and glanced down the street.

“Looks like there is some action going down at the police station.”

I was stuffing a piece of apple pie into my mouth when I rose from the table.

“It could be dad.”

“If it is, he will take care of it,” Dax replied.

“And if he can’t?”

Dax’s chin dropped.

“You really going to leave him out there to die?”

He looked around the room at the others. I could tell if they weren’t there he would have me up against a wall by the scruff of my neck. I was challenging him, and he didn’t like it. But screw his ego. Our father might have been an asshole, but he was all we had. All I had. Dax had been used to living without us.

He didn’t answer.

I tossed my fork down, snatched up my assault rifle and walked out. Specs and Baja followed after me.

“You got the keys?”

Baja dangled them in one hand while he used the other to stuff his face with a Pop-Tart. I was about to pry open the back door and exit when Dax slammed it close.

“You’re a stubborn shit. Just like him.” We locked eyes. “Stay close, I’m coming with you.”

With that he pulled back the door and we got inside the car. The dead were all over the place. Thankfully only one had tried to get into the cruiser. We dropped him like a fly and rolled out of there.

The sound of gunfire was getting louder as we got closer to the station. If we got out, we were going to have to haul ass. There were even more dead surrounding the station than before. Through the mass of bodies pressing up against the windows and main doors, I caught a sight of our father.

“There he is.”

“All right, listen up. We are going to try and draw them away. Specs, you are getting on the top of the car. Johnny and I will sit on the front. Baja, you are driving. Reverse slowly. When I give you the signal, put the siren on. Don’t go too fast. I don’t want to end up running for my life. You got it? Now are you pussies ready?”

“Yep.”

I hopped out of the cruiser and each of us got into place. Dax banged on the window.

“Now.”

Baja hit the siren and the Z’s turned their white eyes on us. They snarled and moaned like a bunch of animals. We began taking potshots. Specs was covering the rear. We unleashed round after round. Hot shells flew out of our rifles.

“Hey guys, guys, there are more coming from this direction. Stop backing up. You are going to…”

His gun jammed. I turned and started firing to cover him while he worked the gun until it would fire again. Baja didn’t just drive, he had his arm outside of the car and was using a handgun to take down those coming from the side. I swear, at one point I was just sweeping my gun at head level. They were going down in droves.

I hadn’t seen how many people had shown up this year for the run, but by scanning the number of Z’s, I saw there had to have been a lot. Possibly over five thousand, including the town folk.

Once we could see that we had drawn them away from the station, we jumped back into the cruiser and Baja spun the wheel. Smoke rose as we peeled out of there. The goal was to move them back into the town. Unfortunately Main Street had filled up with more Z’s than we were going to be able to get through. We swung a right down Carton Avenue. It was a short alley that came out on the east side.

“Head back around to the station,” Dax yelled.

“Roger that.”

It was a short diversion but we soon found ourselves back around near the station entrance. The herd had moved into the town, leaving just a few stragglers. We parked the car, and dodged our way through the few remaining Z’s. We didn’t want to fire the guns and draw them back. When we made it to the main entrance we banged the door several times, casting nervous glances over our shoulders.

“Come on. Open up,” Dax said.

From the other side, we heard the sound of metal being removed, then the clunk of a lock. The door opened and we piled in. Our father slammed it behind us. He secured it before he unleashed what we knew was coming.

“What were you thinking? Are you morons? I told you both to get the hell out of here.”

“And what about you?” I said.

“Kid, I survived more tours in the Middle East than you will ever be able to fathom. I can take care of myself.”

“Right, cause you sure looked like you had it under control when we came along,” I said.

My father gave me a look of death. I was used to it.

“Where is everyone?” Specs asked.

We scanned the inside for cops, but there were none. A few bloodied bodies still in uniform lay strewn across the floors.

“Dead.”

“Well, then let’s get out of here,” I said.

“Get out? This is where we can communicate with law enforcement outside of the town.”

“Have you managed to get through to anyone?” I asked.

“No. I can hear them, but I think the lines are broken or something as none of my messages are getting through.”

“Maybe they are hearing but they just aren’t coming. We picked up a radio signal that is being broadcast out of Salt Lake. Seems whatever this virus is, it’s spread everywhere,” Dax said.

“Listen, we are over at Matt’s home,” I said.

“I want you guys to get out of here,” he replied.

“We’re not leaving until we know our families are still alive,” Specs said.

Baja nodded.

“Then make it quick, as I’m pretty damn sure that if there is any government that exists, they are going to be bombing towns and taking names later.”

“Bombing? Seems a bit extreme,” I said.

“Look around. This is extreme.”

Right then we heard what sounded like glass shattering.

“Shit. They’ve got in.”

Our father ran towards the back of the building. Chasing after him, we came around the corner to find a slew of Z’s stumbling in through a glass door. The corridor went down to a T-junction. At the center of that were double glass doors. They had smashed in one side.

“Why didn’t you secure it?” Dax said.

“You know how many doors go into this place? I was lucky to keep them at bay as long as I did.”

Each of us dropped down low and started firing.

Dax and my father rushed into a room and started dragging out a large metal cabinet.

“There’s no time for that,” I yelled. There were too many coming through the back. They had disappeared down the hallways.

“We need to go. Now,” Dax said.

“No. I need to stay here.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I said.

“You go now,” my father squared up to me. There was a look in his eye that told me he wasn’t going to tell me again. As we ran for the main doors, I looked back. He was in the process of firing at them and backing towards a room that he had planned to lock himself in. What he hadn’t banked on was there were several Z’s that had made it into that room through another entrance. While he was still backing up, a Z came up behind him and sunk its teeth into his shoulder. His scream was one I won’t ever forget.

“Dad,” I yelled. I charged back to help, but Dax grabbed me.

“It’s too late, Johnny. We need to go.”

Specs and Baja had the main door open and were taking down a new influx of Z’s. Dax literally had to pull me back otherwise I would have run down there. I don’t know why I thought I could have helped. Perhaps I just wanted to kill the Z’s that were now ripping our father apart. The last image of him I had in my mind was his hand reaching out between the legs of Z’s. It quickly disappeared as more bundled on top and joined in the flesh feast.

Outside, I could barely breathe. I didn’t know if I was going into shock. My stomach want to throw up. I had a metallic taste in my mouth. The world was spinning. Everything was happening too fast. I collapsed to the floor. The next thing I remember was hanging over the back of my brother. He had picked me up and was carrying me in a fireman’s lift while shooting at the same time. I turned and caught sight of Z’s hedging us in. Their faces contorted, snarling, bearing rotten teeth. In the next instance nothing.

W
hen I awoke
, I heard the sound of someone talking. It was low, barely audible. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. A few minutes later, I saw Jess. She came into the room. That’s when I knew where I was. I was back in the Callens’ apartment. They had laid me out on Matt’s bed.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

I groaned, reaching for my head. I straightened up and slowly brought my feet to the floor.

“Lie down.” I looked at her, then leaned back. She had a bowl and a cloth. She pushed it into the bowl then squeezed it out. Then she began dabbing my forehead. It was soothing.

“How long have I been out?”

“About an hour.”

“The others?”

“They’re okay. They’re in the living room.” She paused. “I’m sorry. Your father, I mean.”

Then an image of my father being torn apart came rushing in. She wiped the cloth back and forth over my forehead and face. It was warm and refreshing. She then cupped my face with her hand.

“You hungry?”

The very mention of food seemed odd now. Being as that the virus had created a hunger beyond anything we could imagine. A hunger for flesh and blood that we only hoped we’d never come to know. Would my father walk as one of them now?

Those bitten or scratched appeared to be the ones turned. If there was anything left of him, would it crawl its way out of that police station?

“Yeah, I could eat.”

She gathered up the bowl. “Food is ready if you want to come out.”

I nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She closed the door behind me. I gazed around Matt’s room. Everything was the same way as it was, days before this had taken place. A week earlier, we had sat in this room and joked about the upcoming Zombiegeddon run. We were both excited to be getting out of high school and moving on with our lives. I think he would have traveled. He had that in him. He was restless and with his father making his life difficult, other than us, he didn’t have any reason to stick around. A part of me missed him. A part of me however was glad he wasn’t here. He didn’t have to endure this shit. It was bad, and things were only going to get worse. Could any of us survive this? And even if we could, was it worth surviving? I hated to admit it, but I think my father was right. We would eventually need to leave this town. Food would soon be at an all-time low, then what? Once the power went out, we would have no other choice than to seek out others. To go find what little of humanity remained. Where that was, was beyond us. Salt Lake City? Maybe further?

I pulled out Matt’s drawers and looked inside. There were a few porno mags, some cigarettes, and a chain that his mother had given him. It was silver. A necklace of Saint Christopher. The patron saint of travelers. She said it was meant to protect him. He usually wore it. The day he was bit, he didn’t have it on. He never saw it as protection. But he had said that one day he would seek her out and return it to her. I squeezed it between my hands and pocketed it. We needed some protection. I grabbed up his cigarettes, lit one, and tossed the pack on the bed. I sat there for a moment and flipped through his pornos.

I smiled, thinking back to the day we had snatched them. Most kids our age found this on the internet. But this was the real deal. Not the cheap crap found online. This was classy to him. He had stolen them from one of the local convenience stores he’d worked at. Matt always had an odd sense of humor.

The door cracked open.

“Jerking off?” Specs asked.

I laughed. “No, I was just getting them for you.” I tossed the magazine at him.

I took a deep inhale of the cigarette.

“Those things will kill you,” Specs said.

“So will jerking off, I hear.”

We let out a laugh and I went out with him to get some food.

W
hen I entered
the living room, it smelled good. There was plenty of food laid out on plates. Pizza, hotdogs, steaks, and burgers. I knew this wouldn’t last, but while it did we were going to make the most of it.

Scot, Jason, and the others didn’t say anything. Losing anyone, even if my father was a dick, was tough enough. They knew it. Condolences would likely come over the next day or two. Right at that point, no one wanted to speak.

As I tucked into some pizza, Baja tossed me a beer. I cracked it open

“So, I was thinking maybe this evening we can head over to my place. See if my parents are there. If they’re not at the store, we could go up to their RV tomorrow. It might be safer than hanging around here. Who knows how long those doors will hold up for?” Specs said.