American Revenant (Book 2): Settlers and Sorrow (16 page)

Chapter 22

            Jimmy
and Alex went down to the horse farm the following morning, checking to be sure
that there were horse trailers they could use. 

            Once
they found the trailers, Alex asked if Jimmy would take him across the highway
to the paint plant.

            “What
for, we cleared that place a while back, I don’t think there’s anything over
there we can really use.”

            “Humor
me, Jimmy.  Let’s ride over there really quick, I just want to look at
something.”

            The
VW Beetle that the group had found was their all-purpose running around
vehicle.  Both men squeezed back in to the small car, and headed over to the
paint plant.

            Jimmy
followed Alex around the large lot surrounding the factory building.  He would
wait as Alex peered into the big rigs parked throughout the lot. 

            “Aha,
there it is.”

            “There’s
what?” Jimmy asked, seeing just another old diesel truck.

            “This
is their lot truck, the one they would use just to move the trailers around on
the lot and to the docks.  It wasn’t used for long-hauling anything.  I knew I
had seen this thing out here a few times.”

            The
truck was an older GMC General that looked as if it had been painted with rust,
though a faded red color still shone through in patches.

            Alex
climbed up into the cab while Jimmy waited outside the open door, looking
around the lot, expecting trouble as always.

            The
sound of an engine cranking startled Jimmy.  He turned around to look at Alex
behind the wheel of the truck.

            “What
the hell, you about made me piss myself, man,” Jimmy said, scowling.

            Alex
laughed, saying, “Sorry, but did you hear that?  It wants to start.”  He tried
the key again, and again the grumbling noise sounded from the engine.

            Alex
climbed back down, asking Jimmy for his help in raising the hood.  Together
they flipped the hood forward, and Alex did yet more climbing, getting himself
far up into the engine compartment.

            “Yeah,
this thing’s been sitting for a bit, needs a little attention.  Jimmy; let’s
run over to my Dad’s old shop, I want to get some tools.”

            They
were back within thirty minutes, and Alex dove headfirst into the engine
compartment.  Occasionally he would ask Jimmy to hand him a tool, or swear at something
under the hood.

            Eventually
Alex crawled back down, covered in grease.  “Well, let’s try this again.”  He
jumped up into the cab, gave the key a twist and held it for a moment, head
cocked as he listened to the motor.

            When
the engine didn’t turn over Alex looked at Jimmy for a moment, and turned the
key once more, this time the motor caught and rumbled loudly for a few seconds
before dying.

            “Hot
damn, Jimmy, I think we may have it.”  When he turned the key again the engine caught
and held.  Alex let it run for several minutes, occasionally tapping the
throttle, revving the big engine.

            “Get
in, man, let’s take this for a run around the lot, see how she handles.”  Jimmy
climbed up into the passenger seat, with most of the cushion rotted out it was more
like a hole than an actual seat.

            The
two men spent the next ten minutes driving around the lot, testing to be sure
that the big truck would stay running, as well as to see how it handled.  Alex
often had to grind his way through gears; he wasn’t used to driving a truck
like this. 

            The
truck had been sitting there for months without anyone taking notice, but Alex
parked it back behind the building hoping that it would continue to be
overlooked.

            “It
runs like crap, but it runs.  I can come back later and tinker on it a little
more, see if I can tune it up a bit.”

            “Good
work, Alex, that’s gonna make a huge difference in getting all this loot from
those stores.  I think you may have just earned yourself a position as truck
driver and lead mechanic.”

            Alex
laughed at the suggestion.  “How many hats am I going to end up wearing around
here?”

            “As
many as it takes, man.  Let’s get back and tell everybody about this.”

Chapter 23

            The
rig and trailer were parked just outside of New London, on Highway V.  Alex and
Garret waited with the truck while the others went to begin the clearing out
process, which they believed could take at least two hours, and possibly more. 
Cal and Lisa were pulling one of the cattle trailers, Jimmy and Louis had the
second one.

            It
would be a slow process, as much of the zombie killing work would be up to Mike
and Rick, who were just now moving toward the small car lot directly across
First Street from the Dollar Store.

            They
came up behind the building, moving slowly, watching around them as if their
heads were on swivels.  Both men carried one of the suppressed .223 AR-15
rifles, along with thirteen magazines for each, twelve in the pouches on their vests,
and one in the rifle.

            Placing
their backs to the wall of the building, they watched behind them for a moment,
making sure nothing had followed them.  Mike looked to the house they had been
on top of the other day, watching the zombies, and gave a thumbs-up sign.  He
knew that someone in the house would be watching through binoculars.

            Standing
on top of the heating and cooling unit Mike pulled himself up to the roof. 
Once he was up he turned around and took the rifles from Rick as he handed them
up, laying them to the side, then he took the two small back packs they were
carrying.  These carried extra food and water, while also having the intended
secondary use as rifle rests.

            Laying
low to the roof they slow crawled to the peak and peered over at the zombies
wandering in the parking lots across the street from their position.  

“Well, let’s get to work, brother, ‘cause this is
gonna take a while.”  Rick gave another thumbs-up sign in the direction of the
house and settled himself into position. 

Moving slowly both men took the time to set themselves
up, situating their rifles and bags to give them the best possible vantage
while still being somewhat comfortable.

Mike sighted at the Dollar Store lot, looking through
his scope, choosing targets.  “So you want Burt Reynolds or Rosie O’Donnell?”

Rick laughed quietly.  “I liked the original Dawn of
the Dead a lot more than that remake, really thought it kind of sucked, but
watching zombie flicks now, after living through this crazy shit, would be like
watching a goofy ass comedy.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, but you have to admit,
Romero saw this shit coming from forty-five years away.”

“Yes, he did.  You ready to get busy?”

“Hell yes, let’s explode some gut-sucker heads,” Mike
said, lowering his eye back to the rifle scope.

“These may be suppressed, but they still make enough
noise.  Let’s keep it to one shot every two minutes, firing at the same time. That
should keep them from finding our location if any of them hear it.”

“Sounds good to me.  I’ve got soccer mom, red shirt,
black pants.”

Rick took a moment to search the lot, “”I’ve got
striped T-shirt, camo shorts.”

“Ready on one.”

“Three…two…one.”  Both rifles popped, and two zombies
fell as gouts of blood, bone and brain matter erupted from their heads.

They took the two minute wait time to choose their
next targets. 

“Blonde ponytail, green apron, left of front door.”

“Right side, far end of lot, black shirt with half his
face gone.”

“Ready on one.”

They went on like this for over twenty minutes,
systematically taking every zombie in the parking lot.

****

“Did you hear that?” Rebecca asked.

“I heard it, but just barely” Dean said, standing next
to Rebecca at the window.  He was watching the two men on the far roof, looking
for the hand signs they were giving.

“First shots fired?” Gordy asked.

“Yeah, they’ve started.  So now we hurry up and wait.”

“That just gives us more time to hang out together,
Scarface,” Rebecca said, bumping Dean’s arm with her shoulder.

“If I have to listen to you two going on the entire
time we’re waiting in here I’m going to go out and get bitten on purpose.”

“Poor Lynnie, you need a hug?  When we get back I can
ask Richard for you.”  Rebecca was grinning hugely.

“Oh good grief, Becca, don’t say that, you’re making
my skin crawl.  Besides, I would hate to take your secret lover from you.”

Rebecca and Lynn looked at each other and started
laughing. 

“Hey, Dad, I think we can take these bite-guards off
while we’re waiting, don’t you?  These things chafe like a bitch.”

“No, leave them on, Dean; we may have to move in a
hurry.  Since you two brought up the subject of Richard, what’s his deal
Becca?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he sits out in the yard watching Lynn teach the
kids at school every day.  He refuses to work, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard
him say anything.  Is he, uh, mentally challenged?”

“Mentally challenged?  Gordy, do we still have to be
all ‘P.C.’ in our nice new ZomWorld?  I hope not, because that would suck.

“Seriously though, I can’t say if he’s not right in
the head, but my guess would be a resounding Hell Yes.  Living in that house
with him, through the winter, was like living with a ghost.  The kind of
creepy-ass ghost you catch trying to watch you change clothes or wash
yourself.”

“You serious, Becca?”

“Yeah, sorry Lynn, but he really is a creeper
sometimes.”

“Third round of shots; should be six down,” Dean said
from the window.  “Do I need to pull Richard aside and have a little
“discussion” with him about how to treat women?”

“No, you don’t, but I think I will,” Gordy told him.

“Girls, if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable, does
something inappropriate, you let me know immediately.  I’m not putting up with
that shit from anyone.”

“You know I will, Dad.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Rebecca said, grinning.

“Hey, did I say I’d share my Dad with you?”

“Don’t be jealous, Lynn.  I’ll only take your place if
you get eaten.”  Both girls laughed.

“Oh, good grief you two,” Gordy said shaking his head.

“Five-Five sign, Dad.  Dollar Store lot is clear;
they’re starting on the gas station lot now.”

****

“Longer shots and we need to be careful that we don’t
hit any of the gas pumps,” Rick said, repositioning himself for the new angle.

“Yep,” Mike said as he returned his canteen to its
belt pouch.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, shoot,” Mike said with a grin.

“We’re laying here calling off shots on reanimated
things
that used to be people.  Does it bother you at all?”

Mike pushed himself up on his elbow, leaning so that
he could look at Rick.  “I’m doing my best not to think about it.  I have to
look at it like it’s one of our competitions at the range, when we’re always
trying to out-shoot each other.  If I don’t see it like that, then yes it’s
going to fuck with my head, and I can’t afford that.  None of us can.”

Rick nodded, thinking for a moment.  “You know I’ve
seen combat, but that was a lot of years ago.  I tried to bury all those bodies
a long time ago, but I won’t lie, laying here sniping these things is forcing
some of that shit to come to the surface.”

“I’m sorry, brother, really.  I won’t pretend to understand
the kind of hell you guys go through out there, but you’ve got a big family
here, and you know that.  You don’t have to handle any of it alone.”

“Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it.”

“Now let me ask you something.”

Rick nodded at the big man.

“Do you need a hug?  If you need a hug before we get
back to work, then I guess I can give you one.”

Rick looked at the big toothy grin of his friend and
said, “You’ve been taking pointers from Jimmy on how to be a dick, haven’t
you?”

The men shared a quiet laugh, and settled back in for
another long round of zombie sniping.

Forty minutes later the men gave the ‘Move’ signal to
let those waiting in the house know that they were moving forward. 

Although the men had cleared most of the lot, the
Health Department building and a Semi-trailer blocked their view of Ruba’s
lot.  They would have to move forward, climb to the top of the trailer, and
finish their work from there.

Mike and Rick moved slowly, heads swiveling, keeping
the landscape and vehicles between them and the zombies wandering the far lot,
blocking their view.  They made it safely to the trailer, climbing up quickly.

“I see eight more, you see any I don’t?” Rick asked
once they were in position.

“I count eight as well.  I thought there were more
back this way.”

“I did too, keep an eye out.  I say we take these a
little faster.  Call your shot then take it, we can be done with these pretty
quick, do a sweep around each building, and begin clearing them out.”

Within minutes they had taken down the last of the
zombies wandering the parking lot.  Climbing down from the trailer, they stood
in the parking lot looking all around them, making certain they had not missed
a lurking gut-sucker.

“C’mon, let’s get these sweeps done and empty these
buildings of gut-suckers.  We still have a long day ahead of us.”

Mike and Rick moved fast through the long lot towards
the Ruba’s building.  As they moved near the front of the building they could
see inside through the large windows.

“Six, no, eight dead inside.  Shouldn’t be too hard. 
Move right around the building.”

            Going
around the first corner with his rifle up, moving slowly, Mike said, “That
wasn’t too bad.  Although I really did think there were more of those things
shuffling around that lot earlier.”

            Rick
kept moving forward, towards the back corner of the building.  Forgetting where
he was for a moment he turned to Mike and said, “Yeah, I know, we probably
should have counted before we…”

            His
words were cut off by a low moaning from around the corner.  Before he could
stop himself he was around the corner and looking into a torn and rotting
face. 

            The
awful smell of the thing hit him full-on, burning into his sinuses, causing his
gag reflex to activate.  He did not vomit, though he wanted to.  Trying to step
back, Rick came up against Mike just as he rounded the corner.

            Rick
brought his rifle up as hands were reaching for him.  He couldn’t turn the gun
fast enough to get a shot into the zombie’s head.  Grasping hands grabbed his
arm and pulled it into a bloody, lipless mouth. 

            Behind
Rick, Mike saw the creature bury its face into Rick’s arm, teeth slamming shut
on the thick, double-wrapped rawhide gauntlet tied around the man’s wrist and
forearm.  He came around Rick, rifle up and sighted on the creatures head.  He
could see the grimace of pain twisting the features of Rick’s face.

            Mike’s
focus was on the creature trying to bite through his friends’ arm, so he did
not see the other five zombies until they were nearly on top of him.

            “Fuck,
Rick, there’s the rest of them!” Mike yelled as he began stepping back from the
advancing knot of zombies.  Rick would have to handle his attacker. 

            Mike
re-sighted his rifle on the nearest face, ignoring the hole where an eye once
sat, in a face that was now torn almost completely away.   Forgetting his many
hours of range training, Mike began jerking the trigger.  His first two shots
went right of the creature, one hitting it in the shoulder, the other shot was
a miss.

            His
third shot hit just above the remaining eye, a single neat hole appearing.  The
gut-sucker fell causing the ones behind it to stumble.  Continuing to back away
he took a moment to glance at Rick, who was just now shoving off the zombie
that had latched on to his arm.

            The
zombie toppled backward, its feet flying out from under it.  Rick snapped the
rifle to his shoulder, popping off a single shot into the creature’s head. 
Gore exploded from the back of its head, but Rick was already switching aim to
the next target.

            Mike
took another shot, on target this time; he felled one as Rick dropped two more.

            Both
men took a steadying breath, squeezed their triggers, ending the last two zombies
behind the Ruba’s building.

            “Son
of a bitch!  Why the hell did they come back here?”

            Rick
looked at Mike, shaking his head.  “There’s a bunch of trash back here, maybe
something fell over or blew against the building.  That’s only thing I can
think of.  Either way, it’s done.”

            Mike
nodded, “How’s your arm?”