Books of the Dead (Book 3): Dead Man's Land (23 page)

Chapter 31

Prelude to the End

Anthony surveyed the battlefield and saw that, while his losses were more substantial than he had anticipated, he was satisfied with the outcome. His soldiers had breached the main building and were streaming steadily inside, looking for any of the remaining rats. Someone was still inside firing (rather ineffectually) down onto the armored zombies, so that meant that some of the rats were still home. 

Yes, he had lost some human minions, but they were expendable for the greater good.  Then he corrected himself.
For the greater bad
. This caused him to chuckle a little.

He had no illusions about himself. He wasn’t some twisted genius who saw his life’s work as misunderstood and underappreciated. He knew that he wasn’t one of the men wearing the white hat. He had tried to be on the side of the angels before the Outbreak, and that had only gotten him heartache and ridicule. The black hat suited him just fine, and he was okay with that.

No, in this post apocalypse, it was better to rule in hell than to serve in Heaven. And, in his mind, hell was a lot more fun, because he was in charge.

But before he could call this day a victory, he knew he had to wrap up the one who had called him out. The one on the walkie-talkie, who had spoken so brashly.  He was still out there.

Anthony keyed his headset microphone and said, “Norman.”  He paused for three seconds and spoke again. “Norman, report in.”  This time he patiently counted to ten before speaking again, “Dammit, Norman, report in, or I’ll fry you ass.”

There was nothing but static. 

A small seed of doubt began to blossom in Anthony’s mind, but he pushed it away. He considered giving Norman a shock treatment to see if maybe he had made a run for it, but decided not to. 

“Maggie, Roy, check in.”

Roy reported in first, “I’m here, on the south side of the building.”

Maggie came back next.  “I’m on the north. I saw several vehicles ride out the back.”

“WHAT?” Anthony almost howled.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  Weren’t Ryan’s soldiers back there?”

Maggie stammered for a moment, then said, “Yes, but they don’t seem to be attacking anything.”

That’s when Anthony got the message. He had no visuals for the back group to allow him to properly lead them, and since Ryan wasn’t there to guide them, they didn’t know what to do.   He didn’t need a line of sight to control them, but it sure as hell helped to know where to send the soldiers.

“Dammit!” Anthony yelled, “can’t you people think for yourselves?”

He considered giving them both corrective shocks, and his fingers even lingered over those keys for an instant, but he knew better than to do that in the heat of battle.
No, that’s bad timing.

“Maggie, send your soldiers to the back to block any more escapees.  I’m moving Ryan’s soldiers to the north side.” 

Anthony felt a rising heat deep inside, like a pot about to boil over.  He sucked in large gulps of air and slowly expelled them.  After ten deep breaths completed, he felt decidedly calmer. 

That’s better
, he thought,
it’s always better to kill people when you’re calm.

Things were getting messy, and he didn’t like messes. Ryan was missing in action, and Norman wasn’t responding.  Another shadow of doubt passed through his mind.
Maybe killing Rex wasn’t such a good idea? 
He pushed the question away as fast as it had come to him. There was no time for second-guessing. That was a fool’s errand.  But a second one filled the gap quickly. 
Maybe the person or persons in the woods had taken Norman out?
   

Still, he wondered if he should take precautions. He had seen them use grenades and he knew they had rifles of some sort.
What if they got close enough to use grenades? Or came on a full out assault? 

This wasn’t second guessing
, he told himself.
This was proper caution.

With Norman missing, he didn’t have anyone on the ground to fend off an attack. That made him feel vulnerable.
Yes, I have my soldiers, but will they be enough?
He considered his options, and a phrase came to mind:
the best defense is a good offense.
He didn’t have an offense, but he did have a defense. He turned his head and looked to the small caged area built into the bus, just behind the driver’s compartment.  It wasn’t that big and didn’t need to be, really. 
Just big enough
, he thought. He saw the forms in there, sitting quietly, heads bowed. 

Yes, it was time to get out his back-up plan.

An alarm went off in Russell’s head. It was like some sort of internal ping of a timer.  Time was up. Whereas the earlier trucks had a clear path out, zombies now moved into the field behind the building, starting to fill in the easy escape paths.   He seriously considered leaving right then when the door to the dock burst open. Jo was in the lead, her face covered in places with black soot. Brother Ed came through the doorway, just behind her. Like her, he was covered in a sticky black soot.  Trailing behind him were three elderly people. One was old man Schultz, a crotchety old fella who complained a lot and always had a sour look on his face. The other two were elderly sisters, Gertrude and Clara. Both had steel gray hair and moved haltingly. Gertrude was the elder of the two and used a cane. 

“Where did you find these three?” Kara asked.

“They were hiding in one of the back apartments,” Jo said.  “They said they didn’t want to take a spot from the children.”

“We have enough spots for the kids
and
our senior members,” Kara said.

“But what about you, young people?” Mr. Schultz said.  “Where are you going to ride?”

“There’s no time for a discussion,” Jo said.  “You’re going. Now, shut up, and get in, or I’ll carry your ass down there.”

“Oh my,” Clara said, holding a hand to her mouth.

Jo put a hand on Mr. Schultz’s back and gently guided him down the short set of stairs toward the truck. Brother Ed helped the two ladies down and into the truck.  It was a tight fit with the two kids and Jason, but they were able to make it work.

Kara looked to Jo after the seniors were situated and asked, “No Aaron?”

Jo just shook her head.

Abandoning one of their own went against everything Kara believed, and every fiber in her being rebelled against the idea, but time was working against them. Like Russell, she sensed that if they didn’t leave now, they might never be able to.

“So, who’s going, and who’s staying?” Russell asked, knowing that there weren’t enough seats for all of them.

Almost at once, all four of the remaining people at the dock said, “I’m staying.”  If the situation hadn’t been so tragic, it could have been funny. Still they smiled.  “Do we draw straws or is it rock, paper, scissors?”  Russell asked

“No, it can’t be random,” Kara said. “We know who has to go and who has to stay.”

“Well, I know I’m staying,” Brother Ed said.

“Me, too,” Jo said, setting her expression to, “
and don’t say anything different.
”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Kara said, sounding a little exasperated.  “Going is just as heroic as staying, so there’s no brownie points for staying. Those seniors and my kids need someone to drive them out of here.”  She realized that this was the first time she had referred to Madison and Naveen as ‘her kids’, and something caught in her voice.

“Then, you’ve got to go,” Jo said to Kara.

“But --” Kara started

“There is no but,” Brother Ed said, “you have, to go. Those kids need you.”

“And, Russell,” Jo said, “you’re riding shotgun.”

He started to protest, but Brother Ed interrupted. “You heard the woman: there’s no extra credit either way.  You’re just as valuable there as you are here.”

“But you may not be able to get out of here on foot,” Russell said.

It still took a gentle shove by Jo to set Kara in motion for the truck. Russell followed, but his legs felt sluggish.

They both got in the truck and looked back at their two comrades. Sure, Brother Ed was a pain in the ass, but when the chips fell, he showed his true colors and sacrificed himself for the good of the group. Kara would never think the same about him again.  It was hard for her to meet Jo’s eyes. Jo had become like a big sister to her in the past months. 

Kara felt a tightening in her throat as tears filled her eyes.

“They’ll be none of that,” Jo said “and we’re far from dead. Aren’t we, Brother Ed?”

“Darn tootin’”, Brother Ed said, putting on the worst false grin in the history of the world.

“Time to get out of here,” Jo said.

The engine roared to life, and Kara dropped the transmission into drive. 

Without looking back, she pressed down the gas pedal, and the truck shot out of the loading dock. They rode off the paved area behind the building and bounced over some uneven ground for a few seconds; then, the terrain smoothed out.  She looked out over the farm fields, and her heart sank. Much of their corn and other crops had been ruined, either by the other escapees in their panicked flight or by the approaching undead army. 

Two armored zombies angled on an intercept path for the truck, and Kara took gentle evasive maneuvers, not wanting to risk tipping the truck if they hit any soft spots or dips in the ground. One armored zombie, with what looked like a metal crown attached to its head, had the best angle. Kara decided it was time to use all four tons of the truck as a battering ram. The front fender of the truck took the zombie head on, bouncing the armored monstrosity across the field like a trashcan. 

When the scorekeepers were done, it would easily be Truck 1, Zombies 0.  Kara eased the truck back onto its original path around the small horde of zombies coming toward the building.

Any sense of satisfaction was shockingly interrupted when a series of bullets bounced off the front hood, sending a spider web of cracks across the window.  Kara jerked the wheel to the left and overcorrected, sending the truck sideways in an uncontrolled skid in the soft soil around their farm fields.  Naveen and Madison screamed loudly, and Russell braced himself as they headed for a large oak tree standing between their corn and wheat plants.

The tree was coming up fast on the driver’s side of the truck, positioned for a direct impact, dead center. Kara took her foot off the brake and goosed the gas pedal. Some slight control came into the play, and the back of the truck angled away from the massive trunk of the oak, and it almost cleared the tree.  Almost. 

The back of the truck slammed into the oak tree, sending a jarring shock wave through the truck as it spun around like a top in the soft ground. It took two seconds before the spin completed its revolution. Both of the kids screamed again as bullets struck the side of the truck.  Gertrude and Clara joined in, but Mr. Schultz stayed silent as he gripped onto the hand rest and rode the spin out with a grimace. Jason threw his body over the kids to protect them in the only way he knew how.

Kara turned the ignition, but the engine protested, churning and churning to start.

Russell felt as if they were totally exposed, being out in the open. He looked out his window and saw a contingent of zombies break away from the ones assaulting the complex and start their way. The sound of shots echoed, and bullets broke the side window of the truck, sending shattered glass into the cab. He jerked his head in the direction of the sound and saw a series of muzzle flashes off in the tree line.  He had no angle from the front seat, so he grabbed the door handle and jumped out, immediately going to one knee and returning fire. 

“What are you doing?” Kara yelled.

He shouted back over his shoulder at her, “We’re sitting ducks out here. I have to distract the shooter somehow. Get the truck going, and get out of here.”

His shots had worked to some degree, because no new shots came their way, but Russell saw a dark figure moving in the shadows of the woods, just about a hundred feet away.  He tried to track it, but the mottled spots of sunlight cut through the canopy of trees, and the shadows made that nearly impossible. 

The best thing he could do was wait for the next shot from the attacker and hope to get off a lucky return shot. 

The engine finally cooperated and started.

“Get in; we’ve got to go,” Kara shouted.

“No,” Russell said without turning around, training his aim on the section of trees where he had last seen the shooter. “He could still take you out if I’m not out here to distract him.”

“Then, I’m getting out with you,” Kara said.

“No!” Russell yelled, “You need to stay with the truck. Now, please, just go.”

Everyone inside the truck knew he was right, but no one wanted to leave him behind.  They needed shooters on each side of the truck in case there were other attackers out there. 

“We’ll come back for you, if we can,” Kara said, but not believing it.