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But the route to the reservoir wasn’t as clear as it had been earlier in the day when we’d transported the tanker. Daylon swerved around more zombies and occasionally hit one with a teeth-jarring bump.

I looked through the rear window at the other teams driving out of town in other directions. They’d be stationed at intervals determined by the grid of roads, but we also had some off-road vehicles to ensure the undead didn’t slip through the gaps.

By the time we turned onto Reservoir Road, long shadows cast by the corn turned the road into an ominous dark tunnel through which we traveled. The battered van went around a curve and we were confronted by several zombies in the road, eating what appeared to be an animal. All three looked up, their eyes reflecting the headlights as we bore down on them.

“
Move,” Daylon muttered. When the creatures didn’t scatter, he swerved around them. I looked through the rear window and the three had resumed their feast.

We reached the reservoir and parked near the rectangle of dark, still water. This wasn’t the town’s main water supply. The water was mostly used to irrigate the surrounding countryside. Limestone had once been quarried there, leaving behind a pit where water from underground sources collected. The water level was also determined by rainfall. Currently it was low, which was good for our purposes. Sheer stone walls rose several yards on every side, creating a natural prison for our zombies.

If there was danger in using the old quarry as a swimming hole, adults tried not to worry too much about it. After all, they’d enjoyed swimming here too in their youth. There was a single narrow path down to the water and rudimentary steps cut in stone—the only way out once a person had dived in. If any of the undead managed to find the way and climb out, we could eliminate them one by one.

Daylon and I headed for the tanker which we’d backed up to the edge of the reservoir. Daylon had his shotgun ready and turned in a slow circle, scanning the grassland around us. I headed for the release valve, attached the discharge hose as Kevin had shown me and turned on the displacement pump. The entire start-up process took only minutes and soon diesel fuel gushed from the hose I’d placed over the edge to pour into the reservoir about twenty feet below.

Daylon turned on the battery-powered floodlights we’d set at strategic spots. The lights illuminated the shiny slick that slowly spread across the water’s surface. I didn’t know how much oil it took to make a fire that would burn on top of the water. If it flared fast then went out, we wouldn’t want to light it until we’d enticed as many zombies as possible into the water. On the other hand, if the oil dispersed too much, would it even light? I wished I’d run tests in a bathtub, but the idea hadn’t occurred to me. So much for the super smarts Ashleigh was so sure I possessed.

I shut off the pump, closed the valve and put the hose back on the side of the tank, then stared at the water.

Daylon joined me. “Looks good. I think it’ll work. If not, you’ll still have them trapped and we can pick them off at our leisure… or leave them and see how long they survive.”

I winced. Although the zombies were no longer human, it seemed awful to deliberately prolong their pathetic existence.

“
I’ll move the truck. Wouldn’t want it too close when we start the fire,” Daylon said.

One of the phones in my pack rang. Since there we didn’t have two way radios, we were using cell phones, plenty of which were available. Each phone I carried corresponded to several different groups. This call came from Fes.

“
What’s up?” I asked. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about anything except our plans for the cattle. There’d be time enough later to tell him how angry I was about his nearly driving Ashleigh out of my life.

“
We’re about to drive them out of town. We’ve tethered each animal to the back of a truck so they can’t get spooked and run if zombies attack them.”

“
Good idea. Keep me posted.” I ended the call and took a deep breath of air that was getting colder by the second since sunset. I still felt headachy and chilled, but adrenalin made up for it, leaving me charged and alert. But evidently not on the ball enough as Daylon suddenly shouted, “Watch out!”

I spun around to face a man with skin the color of oatmeal and empty sockets where his eyes used to be. He didn’t need to see me. He could smell his dinner and lunged at me, mouth wide open.

I spun aside and Daylon blew a hole through the zombie’s head with his shotgun.

I raised my axe as a pair of zombies came out of the long grass and rushed me. The reservoir was right behind me. There was no time to swing the axe so I did a last minute sideways move. The pair lumbered right past me and over the edge. There was a splash when they hit the water.

Daylon chopped off the not-quite-dead zombie’s ruined head with his axe, then he stood over the zombie’s still form, breathing hard. I checked for more attackers looming out of the shadows before I went to look down into the water. The surface was ruffled by the splashing of the two zombies paddling to keep afloat.

“
Wonder how long they can keep that up.” Daylon stared over the edge with me.

It was mesmerizing but there was no more time to stand there watching as two of my phones rang at once. I tossed one to Daylon and answered the other.

“
Team Eight reporting.” Jim remembered to use his squad’s code name. “A few creatures passed our checkpoint but not so many we couldn’t kill them. There are more coming right now.”

“
Remember, don’t use any more ammo than you have to. You’re supposed to head them this way not shoot them,” I warned the eager marksman. I ended the call then checked in with Fes again. “How’s it going?”

“
It’s like we rang a dinner bell. They’re following our convoy. But the cattle are freaking out and trying to get away, which doesn’t make it easy to drive. Hold on...”

I the bawl of a terrified cow in the background and an argument between Fes and his partner then he came back on the line. “Can’t talk now. Thing’s are heating up. Ashleigh’s team is having a problem.”

“
What?” Fear roared through me like a freight engine. “What the hell is she doing there?”

“
Didn’t she tell you? She’s with Stan. Gotta go.” The phone went dead.

I tried to call back but the phone rang until it went to voicemail. I cursed, kicking myself for not checking with Ashleigh before I left town. I’d assumed she was safe. It never occurred to me she’d put herself at risk. I was furious. I’d told her to stay put. Why couldn’t she have listened? Didn’t she know it would destroy me if she got hurt or killed?

“
Stop daydreaming?” Daylon shouted from where he stood on the hood of the rig, keeping lookout. “Incoming. This is no time to zone out.”

I forced myself to stop fretting about Ashleigh as a half dozen more zombies came out of the cornfields into the grassland, heading our way.

* * * * *

Chapter Eighteen

My cow was thrashing and fighting against the rope tying her to the tailgate of the pickup I was driving. The force of the animal’s struggles shook the vehicle and I fought to keep us on the road. Zombies were coming out of the fields on either side of the road and grabbing at her. We were drawing them like flies to a picnic, which was great except I was afraid our cow was going to be eaten alive before we ever reached the reservoir.

“
Turn right at the next road,” my partner, Stan said before shooting through the open rear window. The pistol’s report was deafening practically right next to my ear and the small caliber gun didn’t make a dent in the zombies, but shooting seemed to make Stan feel better. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

“
Not if we want Bossy to keep up. We won’t get anywhere dragging her dead weight behind us.” Stan was not my favorite person right now. I wished I was with Carl or Daylon or even Tanesha, who was more capable than she let on. I wanted to be with somebody I knew instead of this rude hick from Farmville. But Fes had paired me with someone local to direct me to the reservoir.

“
There! Turn right there!” Stan stabbed his finger toward the windshield, blocking my vision with his arm.

I cramped the wheel to the right, but even after he moved his arm I couldn’t see the road. There were too many zombies in our path. I couldn’t go forward without running into them. Bodies blocked the headlights so I only caught glimpses of clothing, torsos, arms and faces. I pressed on the gas, trying to push through the crowd. The gears whined and we barely moved. Zombies beat on the windows, the hood and the body of the pickup then they began to rock it. Some climbed into the bed and started hitting the rear window which Stan had slammed closed. We were surrounded by the silent horde, pummeling the vehicle in a vain effort to get to us. The cow was bellowing and plunging and I wondered if they’d managed to bite through her tough hide.

“
Hit the gas.” Stan’s work boot covered mine and he pressed down, crushing my foot.

“
I’m trying. Stop it!”

The truck lurched forward over a couple of bodies, putting us off kilter. The front tires no longer had contact with the road and the vehicle tipped. Lightning flashes of fear stabbed through me. I’d imagined I was safe inside the vehicle, figuring I could outrun any zombies, but I hadn’t counted on the sheer numbers of bodies. I pictured the truck overturned, windows smashed in, hands reaching inside to pull us out, teeth sinking into my body at last—inevitable. This had been my constant fear since Vegas.

“
Get off! I got it,”” I screamed at Stan who was still stomping my foot and trying to wrench the steering wheel from my grasp. Suddenly, I regained control. We rolled over one or two zombies, pushed aside others and the tires touched pavement. I revved the engine and we shot forward away from the cluster of undead.

But those in the truck bed were still pressed against the glass and slamming their fists on the roof of the cab.

“
Get rid of them,” I ordered.

Stan rolled down the side window and leaned out to shoot at our unwelcome hitchers. The bullets tearing into them knocked them off balance but didn’t dislodge them from the truck bed. I accelerated before abruptly hitting the brakes and the four zombies lost their balance and fell on their asses. At last I could see the wild-eyed cow, still trotting to keep up.

The taillights of the lead truck in our caravan shone ahead of us and beyond that the glow of floodlights marking the reservoir. We were almost there. Acid churned in my stomach as we approached our goal. Evading zombies in the pickup was different from the hand-to-hand fighting we were about to face.

“
Remember the plan. I’ll cover you while you untie the cow then we’ll lead it to the water on Fes’s cue.” For once I didn’t mind Stan’s bossy attitude. His confidence, even if faked, made me feel better.

I nodded. Brian’s plan, which had sounded good back in town, now seemed terribly flawed. What if the zombies weren’t nearly as interested in cow meat as in human? What if they ignored the bait meant to entice them into the water and continued to come after us instead? But one good thing about taking action—it doesn’t leave you with time to worry or imagine the worst. All a person can do is deal.

The lead truck stopped and Fes and Carl jumped out and started hacking at zombies. Other people came to help. It was easy to make out the living from the dead thanks to strips of reflective tape marking their coats. I’d suggested everyone wear racing stripes down their sleeves and backs so there’d be no accidental shootings and I was pleased to see my idea working.

While the others guarded him, Carl ran to the tailgate to cut free the plunging cow. It took a number of people to control the animal and drive it toward the reservoir. Then I lost sight of what was happening.

I glanced at Stan. He wasn’t in a hurry to get out of the truck any more than I was. It was zombie stew out there, getting thicker by the minute. We were seriously outnumbered and I didn’t know if our protection teams would be enough. A burst of flame off to the left caught my attention and gave me heart. It was one of the flamethrowers in action. Burning zombies staggered ahead of the blast like marshmallows set alight by a campfire.

“
Ready?” I asked.

Stan gave a curt nod and we both opened the doors and jumped out. Stan started shooting at the zombies clambering out of the truck bed, while I raced to the tailgate. The cow’s huge red and white body seemed even larger since it was lunging in an attempt to escape. The vet had given the cattle a mild dose of tranquilizer before we started out, enough to calm them without knocking them out. But evidently the threat of death overrode the drug because this cow was frantic.