Dead Hunger V: The Road To California (23 page)

BOOK: Dead Hunger V: The Road To California
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Yeah, I cried too.  It’s catchy, that crying.

I love Serena.  I still miss Leona, but I see a lot of her in Serena.  Goodness.  Caring.  Beauty.

So, anyway.  Hot food and showers, air conditioning, soft beds.  We deserved it, and we stayed a while.  A few straggling zombies arrived here and then, but for the most part it was quiet on the edge of Salina, Kansas.

 

*****

 

Before we left, refreshed, well-fed and clean, Rachel performed the necessary maintenance on the helicopter, making sure all the fluid levels were up to snuff.  On an adjacent property, there was a storage garage that contained spare parts, oil and coolant for the farm equipment maintenance.

We didn’t know what else was in there, and it was locked.  I pried open the door with a crowbar, and as I pulled it open, one of the creatures came barreling out, directly into Nelson.

The skinny kid acted fast, and this time, I saw what his so-called Subdudo could do if he did away with the light touches and just went for it.

Nelson’s first right-handed chop to the neck of the thing wearing overalls and black work boots clearly broke its clavicle, for its head immediately fell sideways onto its left shoulder.

The other came out and staggered at me, and I had the crowbar in the air and down on the center of its skull by pure reaction.

Had to change my shirt on that one.  A spatter of blood and chunks of rotted brain shot out at me and sprayed me from forehead to waist.  I spat the disgusting crap from my mouth and kept spitting until the taste dissipated.  I did not like the hand-to-hand fights, because it was dangerous, and it was a horrid mess.

The one crack did it for me.  Nelson had the bastard who was on him down in another two moves.

He balanced on his right leg and shot his left leg out like a piston, snapping the right knee of the creature.  Before it could crumple, Nelson jumped to his left leg, kicked with his right, and broke the thing’s other knee.

It was disgusting, watching its legs bend the wrong way.  I shot it the moment it hit the ground and Nelson nodded to me.

He wasn’t breathing hard.  When it was over, he said, “Thanks,” and walked into the shed, turning on his headlight.

Inside was everything they would have needed for perhaps a week of survival.  Sterno cans for cooking, a bucket they had probably gone to the bathroom in, and some small pieces of cookware.  Gallon bottles of water.

Only two of the bottles were empty, and whatever was in the bucket was so dried up it no longer even stank.

Just the smell of rotting zombies.  Nothing else.  They had probably transformed before the second day, and from that moment on, it had just become an eternal waiting game.

We ended their eternities for them.

You’re very welcome, zombies.  It’s what we do.

Also inside were the supplies we’d actually been looking for, as I said before. 

So the helicopter was fully fueled, thanks to several gas cans and our little, battery powered siphon.  It took us several hours – clearly, we missed our tanker – but we got it done.

We spent a total of three nights at that little slice of Eden, and when we left, it felt as though we’d had a much-needed vacation.  When the chopper skids left the ground, I think all of us were smiling – even Rachel.

It was funny, too.  Nelson had taken to riding up front with Rachel, and they played these memory games.  It was like the old color game, Simon.  Sometimes they used numbers, other times, letters and colors.  Rachel would say, 1, 6, blue, A, 12, yellow, 5.  Nelson would repeat it back and add another color, number or letter.

Nelson won every time.  Serena and I never played.

“What’s that town down there, Rachel?” I asked.

It was 1:30 PM, and Rachel had begun to hint that we’d need a fuel stop soon.

“According to the chart,” said Rachel, “it’s Deer Trail, Colorado.  Or thereabouts.”

Serena had continued to work with the map, and based on our flying speed and direction, we were probably close to there, anyway.

“I’m going to fly around a bit,” said Rachel.  “I’ll drop down low.  Keep an eye out for places with lots of farming equipment.  We’ll be able to siphon fuel.”

“It’s all farms down there,” I said.

Nelson stared down for a while, then said, “I used to think the wide open spaces were all gone.  Just takes a trip across the country to see that’s not true.”

“Look there,” said Nelson, pointing.  “Are those … are those
them
?”

Serena and I looked.  Below us was an enormous group of people, filling a street and the grassy shoulders along the road, moving northwest, toward Denver.

“They only group like that when there’s a pregnant female with them,” I said.  “Or more than one.”

“Fly low overhead, would you, Rachel?” said Serena.  “We need to make sure of what we’re seeing.”

“I think they’re what you think they are,” she said.  “See how tightly they’re grouped?”

Nelson nodded.  “Yeah.  Not worried about fresh air.  Just following the orders of the red-eyes.”

“Then we need to kill them,” said Serena.  “We have the weapons.  Rachel, do we have enough fuel?”

In answer, Rachel turned the helicopter sharply away from them and buzzed low over some farmhouses on the southeast side of the group of rotters.

“Let’s find where we’re stopping,” she said, “and I’ll be able to answer that question.  Then we can go back and take care of them.”

A minute later, we saw a large, fenced yard, easily big enough for the chopper to land.  Inside the fence were several tractors and backhoes.

“Bright colors, too,” said Nelson.  “Newer.”

We’d made mistakes in the past where we’d believed the amount of equipment meant fuel sources, but discovered that the equipment was dilapidated and out of use.  No fuel, no sense in stopping.  Relatively bright colors meant newer tractors and combines that had good-sized fuel tanks that were probably topped off.

“That’s going to work,” said Rachel, turning the helicopter back toward the mobile horde of abnormals.  “Now grab some of those new guns of yours and we’ll set this baby down about two hundred yards ahead of them.”

“This might take a while,” said Nelson, again looking down at the large group that moved along Highway 36.

“Should we take out some from up here?” asked Serena.

“Yeah,” I said.  “If we can fly over and find the females leading them, it’d go a long way toward disorganizing them.”

“Dude,” said Nelson, “I think we know that if those females are down there, they’re hiding right in the middle of the crowd.  We’ll never find them.”

“Good point,” I said. 

“Plus, you’ll waste a lot of ammo,” said Rachel.  “I’ll set it down and we’ll leave the doors open and the engine running.  All I’ll do is disengage the rotors, so we’ll be able to take off fast.”

“They’re a slow bunch,” I said,  “But land three hundred yards ahead of them.  We can always run toward them to give ourselves more kill time.”

“You got it,” said Rachel, angling the chopper and easing it down in the center of the road.  “Get ready.”

We were, and we weren’t.  But we went anyway.

The fight was afoot.

 

*****

 

The four of us were equipped.  It was broad daylight and the road was dry.  I had an AR-15 with the largest magazines we took from the gun shop.  Nelson and Serena had identical weapons strapped on their shoulders, but Rachel preferred handguns, and carried with her at least three that I had seen.

“Got your plastic bat?” I asked Nelson, poking at him a bit as we ran.

“Hilarious, dude.  Someday you’ll know what that was like.”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

As we drew to within a hundred yards of them and they stopped dead in their tracks – no pun intended – I think we all got a chill down our spines.

“The freaks on the outside aren’t smart enough to know what we represent,” I said.  “So how did the females see us?”

“If they’re in the middle, I’m not sure,” said Nelson.  “Sensed us?”

“You know how women just know things,” said Serena.  “Let’s just carry out our plan.  As many as we can take out.”

We all carried one of the four canisters of urushiol we had in case they got too close.  These were strapped on our belts.

When we could see their dead eyes, we began firing.  All of our guns were on single-fire mode.  With four of us going, and an estimated hundred of the creatures or so, it would be a while before we finished.  At least in their stationary state, they weren’t moving any closer to our escape vehicle.

We advanced on them, firing as we went.  The front row dropped  and we took out the next.  Pretty soon it was fairly scattered, and the front line was no longer  a solid wall, but more staggered and out of order.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I yelled to Serena.

She called back, “What do you mean?”

“They never just stand there and die,” I said.

As the words left my lips the horde broke into what I could only describe as a run.

No.  A sprint.  They were coming at us like a mudslide of undead, swift and almost silent.  Their whitish-pink eyes and gnashing mouths grew clearer as they drew closer.

I fired my last round before needing a reload, and yelled, “Turn!  Run!”

I hoped it wasn’t too late, but as I glanced to my right, I saw Rachel, Serena and Nelson pacing me.  I looked behind us, and amazingly, the creatures were gaining on us, as though energized by the powers of Hell.

Out front, breaking free were three females.

I stopped and turned, pulling my Walther.

The three immediately slowed and were swallowed by the advancing crowd, that had not appeared to slow one iota.

I turned and ran again.  I was now fifty yards behind the others, who had not stopped. 

I did not look back again.  I watched as my friends reached the chopper, and I heard the rotors engage seconds later.

Rachel wasted no time, and already had the chopper six inches off the ground, only waiting for me.    I ran.  I could clearly hear the hundreds of dead feet beating the earth behind me, and as I reached the helicopter, I dove inside and felt it spin beneath me and take flight almost immediately. 

“I’m circling around!” said Rachel.  “Kill as many as you can from the air.  Kill those females first!”

I rolled onto my butt and got in position as she angled the chopper over the crowd, just thirty feet above their heads.  The wind kicked up a dust cloud around them, and Nelson, Serena and I lay side by side on the floor of the Eurocopter and fired down at them.

“I can’t see the females!” said Nelson.  “Screw this.  Can I use a bottle?”

“Urushiol?” I asked.

“Yep,” said Nelson.

I thought that I’d rather save it for when we were in immediate danger, but we needed to land and the horde below was a threat. “Go for it,” I said.  “Rachel, if you can, drop to like ten feet above that crowd, and Nelson, shake the bottle really good and uncap it.  the rotor blades ought to disburse it pretty well, so just sprinkle it out.”

“Got it,” said Nelson, reaching back for the canister.  He began shaking it hard.

“I’m going to keep firing,” said Serena.  “We might get lucky that low and get a direct hit on the females.”

“Wow,” said Nelson.  “This is crazy.”

As the chopper zigzagged just over the heads of the creatures below, I saw two of the three faces of the red-eyed, pregnant females looking up.  They were like beacons in the darkness, their ashen gray faces contrasting to all the sameness below as they watched us in the sky.

And just like that, as though they saw me spot them, they sank into the crowd.

“Right there!” I shouted.  “About midway back in the center, Nelson!  Rachel, get right over that area.  I saw them.”

Rachel spun the bird around again and hovered just over the place I had indicated.

“Now, Nelson!”

He shook the bottle side-to-side and in the whipping wind of the rotor blades, it became a mist that we could not see.  Serena kept firing her weapon as the urushiol canister emptied and Nelson brought it back inside.

Rachel hovered for perhaps thirty more seconds without moving, and we saw a kind of steam hissing off the group below.  Seconds later, like dominos, they began collapsing from the center outward, revealing the three females who had been our focus.  But only briefly, before they once again found cover among their minions.

So many of them had fallen that others were tripping on their dissolving cadavers, but as they fell they scurried back to their feet again and moved.  Our little trick appeared to have taken out as many as a third of them – which still left a lot.

A red-eye’s face appeared below.  Just one this time.  As I stared down at the female, the crowd behind her split in the center and became two groups.  They skirted around the piled bodies and came together again once past the melee.

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