Total Apoc Trilogy (Book 3): Horde Ravaged (3 page)

            The zombies were thinning out. Then suddenly we were out of the woods and surrounded by farmland. No zombies to be seen. I relaxed and sighed gustily.

            "It doesn't get any easier," Ralph said. "You'd think by now we'd be used to it."

Chapter 4

            "If we don't find gas soon we're going to be hoofing it home."

            Olivia looked agitated, knuckles white on the steering wheel. I looked at the gas gauge. It was dangerously close to empty. Maybe we shouldn't have passed so many gas stations, but there'd been zombies at every one of them. We'd been forced to use the gas in the jerry cans, too.

            "There's another little town up ahead," I replied. The last sign put the town of Jerry's Crossing at 10 miles, which was well within our range. "If we have to, Ralph and I will do our best to keep any walkers at bay while you fill the tank. If we're lucky, you can even fill the jerry cans."

            "Kyle could always push," Ralph said. "It's not like he does anything else."

            "Ha-ha, you're funny," I said.

            We were out in the open on that two-lane farm road. Cultivated land surrounded us. We could siphon gas out of an abandoned car or truck, but I didn't see any vehicles ahead. That country road was pretty devoid of other vehicles. Sure would've been nice to find a full gas tanker. There were so few gas stations on that small county road I was starting to regret getting off the interstate.

            We could see the Jerry's Crossing water tower long before we spotted the first signs of a town. It stood high atop a small rise, surrounded by trees. The small, white painted tower had the town's name on it. Just the sort of thing we'd use as a rally point.

            "If the shit hits the fan in town, let's rally at the first intersection on the other side of Jerry's Crossing," Ralph said.

            Olivia and I just nodded.

            The jeep slowed as we passed into the town. We could see all the way to the other side of Jerry's Crossing, since it only stretched out along the cross road. There was a single stop light, which wasn't working. That corner had a Dairy Queen and a country store with gas pumps out front on the north side, and the beginning of the red-brick downtown on the south. We rolled to a stop short of the gas station.

            "Come on Ralph," I said, sliding out with my finger on the trigger.

            I looked down the single side street behind the business "district." It was lined with older wood frame houses and very nice large hardwoods. I didn't see any movement. While I checked out the north side, Ralph took the south.

            "Clear," Ralph said.

            "Clear," I replied. "Come on. Let's check Main Street and the little store."

            I knew it was Main Street, because there was a street sign. I thought it sounded rather grandiose for a town with five streets max, and two of those block long cross streets. Main Street was clear of people, survivor or zombie. About half of the parking spaces had abandoned vehicles in them. A few looked old enough to have survived the EMP. Some interesting looking stores caught my attention, including a hardware store, general store, and sporting goods store. They were worth checking out.

            As expected, the street on the other side of Main Street was residential. Ralph and I hurried back to check out the country store. No survivors or zombies were hiding in it, so I found the access to the underground tanks and waved Olivia over.

            "You fill the tank," I told her. "Ralph and I will remove the cowcatcher."

            "You can't fix it?"

            Ralph just laughed. I shook my head, wishing we could.

            "We aren't that handy," I said. "We'll probably have a hard time getting it off."

            That proved true. Olivia filled the jeep's tank, and the jerry cans and we still hadn't managed to remove the twisted cowcatcher. It was bolted to the bumper, so we had to go to the hardware store for tools. First, though, we raided the store for perishable foods and sodas. They didn't sell beer. I also grabbed a road map.

            We jumped into the jeep and drove down into downtown. The hardware store was halfway down the first block. There were only about three blocks before it opened up into farmland again.

            "Did you see movement inside the store?" Ralph asked as soon as Olivia killed the engine.

            My heart leapt into my throat. We were a sitting duck in the middle of Main Street. I wasn't worried about zombies, because they wouldn't sneak around and hide. Survivors would, and they also might snipe us. For a second I almost told her to crank it up and haul ass.

            "Start the engine and be ready to take off," I whispered. "Come on, Ralph. Let's go check it out."

            We stayed low and approached the hardware store from the side. It was a two story structure, looking to be at least a hundred years old. The store had lots of windows in front and a brick façade. With nothing to lose but our lives, I decided on a different tactic than usual.

            I shattered the first window with the butt of my rifle. Olivia squeaked and Ralph cussed a blue streak. No one started shooting at us. I didn't hear anyone running away, either. There was no sound anywhere but that of the breaking glass. And that was pretty bad.

            "I think it's safe," I whispered.

            "You think?"

            I cut him a sharp look. "Follow me."

            I led the way through the broken window. The hardware store looked old on the inside. The floors were unpolished wood. We passed through it to the back like commandos. At least in my mind. Weapons at the ready, we checked the back rooms and the upstairs storage area. There was no sign of recent habitation. As best I could tell, the store hadn't been looted either.

            Back in the main store, we quickly found the tool aisle. We grabbed a ball and pin hammer and some adjustable wrenches. One the way out, Ralph came across some machetes.

            "Great find!" I said.

            They had six of them on display, and we took all six. You can never have too many machetes during a zombie apocalypse. Olivia shouted for us to hurry.

            "What's up?" I asked as he ran up to the jeep.

            "Listen," she said. "Hear that rumble?"

            "Motorcycles?" The only time I'd heard that kind of rumble was when Motor Cycle clubs drove through our home town. They were always riding Harley Davidsons. "Oh crap."

            "Let's get this thing off now!" Ralph said. "Hurry!"

            I was willing to leave with it on. We had to get it off because it caught zombies instead of knocking them away. It was only connected to two spots on the bumper and one on the grill. It took all of five minutes and three barked knuckles to remove it. We just shoved it off to the side of the road.

            The rumble changed as they drew closer to town. I heard the higher-pitched sound of street bikes or ATV intermingled with the throaty roar of Harleys. So outlaw bikers with off-road capabilities. Not good for us.

            "Which direction are they coming from?" Olivia asked as we started down Main Street.

            The sound seemed to be coming from all directions. The bikers were heading either east or west, because we could see north and south for a few miles in both directions. So they had to be on the county road we'd just been on. I suspected they were coming from the west, but there was only one way to know for sure.

            "Turn right," I said. The first side street was only on the right, going west. She turned, and I held my hand up a second after she turned. "Stop."

            I jumped out and rushed up to the corner of the store to our north. Dropping to my belly, I crawled forward until I could see around the corner. And there they were. The first motorcycles were moving slowly. They weren't bikers, but reminded me of the Death Dealers. Lots of young men and women in jeans and t-shirts. The first six street bikes and ATVs had two riders, one with a weapon ready. They looked alert and ready for a fight as they entered the small town.

            Ralph jumped out of the jeep and went to look down Main Street. It occurred to me that if they turned south, we were fucked. If we didn’t move, the lead riders would spot us. If we drove forward the rear bikers would see us.

            "They're stopping to get gas," Ralph said.

            I indicated I heard and continued to watch them pour into the city. There had to be around twenty motorcycles and ATVs, mostly Japanese racing bikes and three-wheelers, and three pickups pulling trailers. As they reached the gas station the rumbling started to decrease.

            That brought up another worry. When that rumbling ceased because they all stopped, then they'd hear us. So when I saw the end of their line of bikes, I waved Olivia forward.

            "Some of them are started to head into downtown on foot," Ralph said when he joined me. "We have to get out of here."

            "I know."

            As the last biker vanished from view, I took off running for the residential street. Ralph trotted behind me and Olivia followed. I turned right, toward the country road. That was still our best bet out of Jerry's Crossing. As soon as I spotted an open garage I waved the jeep inside. She backed in without me telling her. It was a detached garage, so we closed the overhead door.

            "We're trapped like rats," Ralph said.

            "Maybe not," I said. There were two windows. I went to one and Ralph the other. "If we spot anyone coming our way, then we take off and pray we have more firepower. Best case scenario, they fill up and continue on the way they were going."

            "How many are there?" Olivia asked.

            "I'm not sure. No more than fifty, mostly men."

            "Are they armed?"

            "Duh. Don't be a dork," Ralph said. "Of course they arrived before I could go look for some shoes. My life sucks."

            "Shh," I said. "Pay attention, Ralph."

            The sound of motorcycles and ATVs never really stopped. Some of them were always running. After a few minutes a pair drove down our street, but didn't stop. I wondered what they were looking for. Probably food, guns, and ammo like everyone. Would they check detached garages?

            "What do you think our chances are if we made a run for it?" I asked.

            "I doubt they have anything to compare to our M60," Ralph said. "But I noticed a couple of them had Uzis or Mac 10s. I can't really tell the difference."

            "So they have automatic weapons. That complicates things." I looked at Olivia and she shook her head. Ralph looked grim, but just looked away. "Okay, we'll stay put until they threaten us."

            Up until that I thought our chances pretty good. I was leaning toward jumping in the jeep and taking off westward down the county road. The bikers might not even bother giving chase. But my friends were right. Better safe than sorry.

            "Maybe we can rotate napping while we wait for them to leave," I said.

            "Nope!" Ralph said. "I see a dozen men on foot coming onto this street."

            I took a deep, ragged breath. Other survivors were so much scarier than zombies.

            "Get ready to crank up the jeep," I said. "Make sure you have a full box of ammo, Ralph. I'll open the door, and then we'll go right and back to the county road. We'll continue west and pray they don't give chase."

            "If they do?" Olivia asked.

            "Then we kill them."

            As soon as Ralph was ready, Olivia started the jeep and I yanked the garage door open. Angry shouts erupted down the street. Jumped into the jeep as it rolled by, and then she hit the gas.

            "Don't fire unless they – "

           
Pap! Pap-pap-pap!
The sound of small arms fire was immediately followed with the terrifying sound of bullets zipping by way too close. Ralph swung the M60 around and opened up. I wasn't able to engage them since the jeep was bouncing too much for me to crawl up into my seat and fire over Olivia's head.

            She hit third gear before we reached the county road. By that time bikers and ATVers were roaring toward us. I took aim and fired. The first two went down immediately. Another veered away to slam into a big oak. We reached the county road and turned west. I had just enough time to see bikers running to their rides.

            "Fast as you can!" I shouted. "Don't stop for anything."

             Turning around in my seat, I tossed full magazines in back. Then I crawled back with Ralph. He swiveled the M60 around to point to the rear, while I lay in back with my rifle pointed over the spare wheel.

           
Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat!

            Ralph lit them up with short bursts. He really impressed me with his aim. That didn't stop the bikers. A dozen men on big racing bikes zigzagged behind us, quickly gaining. We paused in our firing to give them a chance to change their minds. That probably encouraged them instead.

            "They asked for it," I said, and opened fire.

            We butchered them. The idiots should've figured it out that motorcycles offered no protection from bullets. True, they fired at us with automated weapons, but we had a steadier platform to fire from. Within minutes the sole survivor ended his pursuit and turned around. We let him go.

Chapter 5

            "What do you see?" Olivia asked.

            I was standing on the hood with a pair of binoculars. We were only about half an hour from our fight with the other survivors before we were brought to a stop by a column of smoke.