Mail Horror Bride (One Nation Under Zombies Book 1) (14 page)

Raven turned to see him escape down another aisle. She followed him to find what had caught his eye. He stood in the aisle, smiling from ear to ear as he held a 12-pack case of Cherry Coke.

“Wow. Haven’t had one of those in forever.” Raven’s mouth watered at the sight of the carbonated cherry flavored goodness.

“I know right? Screw the pills and first aid supplies we found. This is the treasure.”

Raven laughed. “It’s hot though. I like mine chilled.”

“Girl, please. Apocalypse survivors can’t be that picky. We gonna drink up and celebrate. Grab a case.”

Shaking her head as she laughed, Raven bent down to grab the other case but a shrill scream stopped her.  “That was Jeremy!”

“Come on.” Damian took off running for the front door, still carrying the case of Cherry Coke.

Raven followed behind, one hand reaching back to grab the hilt of her katana as they raced to help their friends.

They rushed outside to find the Escalade surrounded. A small group of zombies crowded around it, beating and clawing at the windows to get to the people inside. Damian met Raven’s eyes and they nodded at each other, agreeing. It was go time.

“Hey!” Damian yelled, getting the zombies’ attention to get them away from the SUV before they could break a window and get inside.

The zombies turned toward his voice and he backed away, slowly. “Here ugly, ugly,” he coaxed them as they stepped toward him, their rotting mouths gaping open as they reached toward him with gnarled fingers. They made that garbled, growling sound Raven hated as they approached. It reminded her of being stuck in the closet at the hotel, her baby sister’s life in her hands. She separated from Damian, walked around the outside of the group as it followed the sound of Damian’s voice, and pulled the katana free from the sheath on her back.

She’d barely pulled the weapon free before it arced through the air and cleanly sliced off a zombie’s head. “That’s for Sky,” she growled before slicing into the next zombie.

Damian swung the case of Cherry Coke, connecting with the closest zombie’s face. Its teeth flew out of its mouth.

“My mama said Coke was bad for your teeth,” he joked as he hit the zombie with the case again, crushing its head in.

He finally dropped the case and replaced it with his rock hammer, a more effective weapon. As he and Raven worked on the zombies from their location, Jeremy and Cruz exited the Escalade, attacking the zombies from the back of the crowd. Now the infected were the ones surrounded.

Raven and Damian thinned out the crowd with their weapons and Jeremy and Cruz picked off as many as they could from behind, using their knives. Jeremy was careful to stay behind Cruz and only attack when necessary. Raven made a mental note to get the girl a better weapon. The knife she used required the zombies to get far too close for Raven’s liking.

They soon had the crowd eviscerated, rotten limbs strewn about the street.

“See what happens when you all take all damn day?” Cruz started in before they’d had a moment to catch their breath. “While you two were in there playing around we were out here in the open, exposed.”

“You chose to stay in the SUV because your head hurt,” Damian snapped, “and we weren’t playing around. The only reason why we went into the pharmacy to begin with was to get what you need.”

“So what are you saying?” Cruz puffed his chest out as he confronted Damian. “I’m the handicap of the group? I’m the one holding us back?”

“Dude, what the hell you talking about? Ain’t no handicap. Only person complaining is you!”

“I know what you say about me,” Cruz spat back.

“Enough, both of you.” Raven caught Jeremy’s gaze and jerked her head toward the Escalade, indicating she should get inside before she sorted out the argument between the guys. “We just killed a bunch of zombies. I don’t think this is the place to be hollering at each other. If there was a small group here, you’d better believe there’s another group nearby, maybe bigger. Let’s just go.”

“He needs to apologize,” Damian demanded. “I’m tired of this crap.”

“Let’s just go, Damian.” Raven looked at him sternly until he muttered an angry curse and stomped past her.

“Where are you going?”

“I earned these,” he answered as he bent down and tore open the Cherry Coke carton partially imbedded in a zombie’s head.

He grabbed four cans, handing one to her as he passed. “Maybe the caffeine will help with your headache, jackass,” he said as he tossed another to Cruz and climbed into the SUV next to Jeremy, sliding the door closed behind him.

Cruz looked at the can in his hand as if it were poison.

“It’s just a soft drink,” Raven muttered, passing him to get to the driver’s side of the vehicle. “I know you’re not feeling well but none of us are exactly feeling great right now. That group of zombies could have easily been in the pharmacy instead of out here but we went in there anyway, for you. Show a little appreciation.”

She climbed into the Escalade and started the engine. Cruz stood outside for a moment, chewing his lip as he looked down the street, searching … for a way out? To leave them?

“Just leave him,” Damian grumbled from the back.

Raven shot him a glare as Cruz climbed in, slamming the passenger door behind him.

“I didn’t know if you were going to come with us.”

“I’m sorry,” Cruz grumbled. “It’s my head. It’s too loud.”

Frowning at his strange explanation, Raven reached back for Damian’s pack and pulled out the migraine pills he’d found. “Your medication wasn’t available but we found something for the headache. Why don’t you take some and go to sleep. You should feel better after some rest.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to knock me out?”

“If I wanted to knock you out, I’d use my fists. It’d be a lot more fun.”

“I’d help her,” Damian added.

Cruz looked back at him, held his gaze for a moment before giving in to laughter. They all joined in, even Jeremy, who’d been keeping to herself. There was a twinkle in Cruz’s eye as he popped open the tab on the soft drink and downed two of the migraine pills. Raven instinctively knew that sparkle marked the real Cruz and he really wasn’t a bad guy but something was wrong inside him. Broken. They needed to find his medication while he was still fixable.

“Do you think there are a lot of survivors?” Angela asked as they continued up the expressway.

Hal thought about the vacant cars they’d seen on their journey, some with parts of people still inside, and sighed. “Hard to say. I know there are more than us.”

“It seems like there’d be more traffic if there were.”

“Not really. It’s been about a month. Most people who wanted to go to the military camps would have left right after the announcement was made. A lot of people probably did what we did, may still be doing it.”

“Staying in their homes until flaming zombies drive them out?”

Hal grinned at the girl sitting in the passenger seat next to him. “Holding down their own forts. Some people have panic rooms, bomb shelters. Some of those bomb shelters are made to last decades.”

“I wish we’d had one.”

“It’s not our job to hide from the bad things in the world,” he reminded her in a low voice as he checked the rearview mirror to make sure their guest was still asleep in the back seat. “We may want to but we can’t. As long as there are good people left to protect and bad people left to threaten them, we stay active.”

Angela nodded. “Right. Like we were able to help Maura.”

“I’m not sure she’s one of the good ones.”

“Why?”

“My gut.” Hal frowned, debating how much to say. It would do Angela no good to know about the prejudiced venom the woman had spewed about Russian women and the men who married them. He had faith that Maura would hang herself with her own noose in time. There was no sense upsetting Angela any more than necessary. “You don’t feel anything off about her?”

“She’s hurting,” the young girl replied. “She cried herself to sleep. She didn’t make any noise, but I saw the tears.”

Hal glanced at the rearview mirror again, studied the woman as she slept on her side, clutching that pack to her chest as if afraid it’d be stolen from her while she was unconscious. She looked peaceful and innocent, as all people did in sleep. Even serial killers looked cherubic in sleep. He knew. He’d caught more than a few in that vulnerable position before slicing their throats. He’d learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. “Don’t let your guard down.”

Angela stiffened as she looked over at him. “You think she could hurt us?”

“I think she could try. I also think she could hurt others. That’s why we need to be alert. Understand?”

Angela chewed her bottom lip for a moment then nodded. “My dad said this job required the ability to detach from the human race. He said you couldn’t befriend them because just like rabid dogs, they sometimes go mad and you have to put them down.”

“He was right, to an extent. He himself married twice, and he was my best friend. There are good people, people you can trust, but they are rare and you have to look at people with all your senses. The eyes are easily deceived. The heart is even more foolish. Your gut will always tell you the truth.”

“But sometimes you can be wrong? You can think someone is good then they do something really bad?”

“Yes.”

“What about the other way? Can you think someone is bad but they turn out to be good?”

Hal sighed, knowing where she was going with this. “It’s possible. My gut is very wise, Angela. I trust it.”

“But you could be wrong. How do you know before you … smite someone? How can you be sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“The difference between smiting and killing is that killing is a personal decision. Smiting is an action you are called to do.”

“But what—” Angela’s eyes grew wide as she pointed toward the wooded area along the side of the expressway. “Look!”

Hal followed the direction of her pointed finger until his gaze locked on a group of infected, or as he was trying to get used to calling them, zombies. They’d seen a few clusters of them since leaving Nashville but this group wasn’t aimlessly walking around. They’d surrounded something.

Hal peered closer, slowing just enough to see what was going on. He could just barely make out a tail light when a few of the zombies shifted. Then a shot rang out.

Hal slammed on the brakes, bringing the minivan to an abrupt stop. Maura tumbled out of the seat she’d been laying across, quickly coming awake.

“What’s going on?” she asked, climbing up from the floor.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Hal quickly explained as he started tapping the horn, emitting sharp blasts of noise.

“What the hell are you doing? You’re going to get the zombies’ attention!”

“Exactly. That truck is surrounded. Whoever’s in it doesn’t have a chance unless we draw the zombies away.”

“And then do what? Die saving someone we don’t even know?”

“We could have left you in the street,” Angela reminded her as she retrieved her gun. “You didn’t mind that help.”

Hal grinned, glad Angela had noticed Maura’s selfishness without him having to point it out. “We’re not going to die anyway. We’re in a vehicle and we have gas. We can just drive away, luring them a safe distance from the truck.”

“Those people were in a vehicle too,” Maura pointed out. “Didn’t do them much good.”

“Something obviously happened or they wouldn’t be down the embankment off the side of an expressway. They’d be on the road, still moving.”

Hal continued tapping the horn as the zombies slowly peeled away from the truck. He tried to count them as they approached but once they moved far enough away from the truck he saw another problem. The front end of the truck was smashed into a tree. He made out an older man in the driver’s side, holding a shotgun. He couldn’t see anyone else.

“Hey, hero,” Maura said, “check your left.”

Hal turned his head to see a group of zombies approaching from that direction. He’d counted around twenty surrounding the truck but he quickly estimated his honking had attracted more than that from the other side of the expressway.

“So what’s the plan now?”

“Same as it was,” he replied before pressing his foot down on the gas pedal and slowly driving forward. “They aren’t very fast. We just creep along, making enough noise to keep their attention and divert them from the truck.”

“The truck is wrapped around a tree. You think they’re going to just pull back onto the road and be back on their way? They’re just as dead as they were before you decided to try and help.”

Hal scowled at the woman through his rearview mirror. “Like I said, the zombies are slow. We lead them far enough away to buy us some time, then I make a U-turn, and speed back to where the truck is. The area should be clear of zombies by then, long enough for us to get that man and any passengers he might have.”

“You’re crazy,” Maura insisted. “We could circle back and find even more back there. Then what?”

“Then you use that machete of yours,” Angela answered, irritation flooding her voice and her eyes as she looked at Hal and shook her head as if to ask why they’d stopped to help the woman in the first place. “Got any more of those grenades?”