Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors (31 page)

Logan grabbed her by the neck and pulled her from the Mustang. He snatched the gun from the back seat and shoved her through the breaks in the vines, then followed her through.

The other side of the walls of vines wasn’t completely devoid of vegetation, but the wall seemed to be a barrier to the thickest growth of the jungle. The road was clear. The sky above was open.

Logan forced Sarah to run. She struggled, her head still clearing from the fog of unconsciousness. She cursed at him with every step and kept her eyes open for any opportunity to escape.

Jerry arrived moments later. He slid to a stop and jumped from the car. He burst through the wall of vines into the sunlit street.

Logan opened fire before Jerry had even gained his feet.

Jerry dropped into a roll, trying to make himself a harder target. It didn’t help; a bullet struck him in the leg.

He stopped rolling and expected to be hit again. No shot was fired.

He looked up and saw Logan yelling at his empty weapon. Jerry grasped his own pistol as he struggled to his feet. The wound hurt; it burned like a torch against his skin. Despite the fire in his leg, it still supported his weight.

He limped toward Logan who had spotted the gun in Jerry’s hand. Jerry raised the weapon.

“Now wait a minute, Jerry.” Logan dragged Sarah with him as he backed away from his enemy. He threw the empty gun on the ground. “Look, I’m unarmed. And you’re a post-apocalyptic nomadic warrior. You can’t shoot an unarmed man.”

“You’re thinking about cowboys.” Jerry limped closer. “Cowboys can’t shoot an unarmed man.”
 

Logan grabbed Sarah in a headlock and put his hand across her face. “Come any closer and I snap her neck.”

“Let her go, Logan.”

Logan held the girl as a shield. His face barely exposed behind her. He continued to drag her backwards as her heels flailed to find footing.

“I’ll do it, Jerry.”

The bullet entered just below his right eye and blew out the upper back half of his skull. Logan fell straight back and began to bleed all over Houston Street.

Sarah was shaken, but managed to avoid going into shock.

Jerry stepped up to the body of the former con man, the gun still aimed at the bleeding corpse. Logan was splayed across a giant white X in the middle of the street. Jerry lowered the gun.

“What … what does that X mean?” Sarah could not pull herself away from the sight of her former lover.

Jerry looked around Dealey Plaza. He looked at the vines covering the city and back at the man who had led so many to their death.

The world had changed when it came to an end. There was a lot more than fear to be afraid of. Life was worth celebrating. Death wasn’t.

“It doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

He put his arm around Sarah, “Let’s get you back to town.”

They walked back to the wall of vines and found a way through. He helped her into the Viper and got behind the wheel.

His leg was tender, but not immovable. Working the clutch was going to be painful, but he was confident that he could make it back to New Hope.

He turned the engine over and moved back up Main.

“Thank you,” Sarah stared up at the buildings as they passed. “Thank you for saving me.”

Jerry was quiet. The pain in his leg was worse than he first thought.

“Why did you do it? Why did you come back to the town? Why stop the truck? You don’t owe us anything.”

“Well, I …” Jerry slammed on the brakes. The Viper screeched to a stop, the wide tires grabbing the pavement.

They had moved out in front of the car and blocked the street. There were hundreds of them. The featureless plants stood in the middle of the road and swayed as if blown by the wind.

He jammed the car in reverse and looked over his shoulder. They were there too. Quietly, they had surrounded the couple.

The silence suddenly broke. The creatures began to shriek. The horrible chorus sounded like a thousand people blowing on reeds of grass. The volume grew as more creatures filed in behind those that blocked the road.

Jerry looked around for a path. He looked for an alley, a parking garage, a lobby window to crash through. Anything. But there was no escape. There was no way out.

Unlike the Silver Lining, the Viper was stock. There were no defenses: no flames, no guns, nothing.

The creatures began to advance slowly, never really stepping forward, but leapfrogging one another. The wall of plant life came closer and closer with every shriek.

Their wailing reached a fevered pitch, the tone changing only slightly. He couldn’t tell if they were getting closer, or if it was in the way they swayed, but their horrendous voices seemed to develop a rhythm. A beat formed. The pattern grew more dominant and he thought he recognized the rhythm.

The advance stopped. The creatures’ shrieks changed. It seemed to go from frenzy to panic. Still, the beat continued.

He saw it first in the group in front of him. The creatures began to scatter—a few at first, followed by hundreds. They moved in waves from the back of the group to those closest to the car.

The beat grew louder, the rhythm evident and Jerry began to sing along to the chorus of
Ring of Fire.

The blue, white, and charred pickup rolled slowly through the fleeing throng of monsters. Erica and the three boys rode in the bed. Carl sat behind the wheel. The mayor rode shotgun holding a loudspeaker out the window. Johnny Cash sang to the simple-minded creatures.
 

By the time the pickup reached the couple in the Viper, the horde was gone, their shrieking faded into the windows of the office buildings.

Sarah shot from her seat and ran to embrace her father.

Jerry stood from his seat and limped toward the truck. Erica rushed to him and held him tight.

“How many women do you intend to save in a week?”

“I think I’m done for a while.” He pointed to the wound.

She put his arm over her shoulder and helped support his weight. “It looks like I get to save you now.”

Jerry smiled and pointed to the truck. She helped him to it.

“Hey, Carl.” Jerry rapped on the hood of the car.

“Boy, you fellas weren’t easy to keep up with. If it wasn’t for those pillars of smoke we may never have caught you.”

“I’m glad you did. I owe you one.”

“Seeing how you saved my town and everyone I hold dear, we’ll call it even.”

“Still, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Anything.”

Jerry held up the keys to the Viper, “Can you drive a stick?”

“That’s what she said.” Carl laughed and slapped Jerry on the shoulder.

“Don’t do that, Carl. Never again, understand?”

Carl nodded.

Jerry pointed to the car. “Can you drive her back for me?”

Carl didn’t say a word. He simply smiled and snagged the keys from Jerry’s hand. He was almost in the driver’s seat when Jerry added, “I’m going to want it back, but there’s a Mustang at the end of Main you can have.”
 

The mayor helped Erica put Jerry in the truck’s passenger seat.

The three boys trampled each other trying to ride shotgun in the Dodge. Austin won and jumped over the door into the seat. He looked odd sitting there in his bear costume, but Jerry could almost see him smile through the mask.

Erica moved into the seat beside Jerry. The mayor took the wheel and they rolled out of the city blasting Johnny Cash music the entire way.

At the Dallas city limits, Alex had them stop at the city’s welcome sign. He pulled a can of spray paint from the truck and added to the green and white sign so it read, “Welcome to Dallas, must have Cash.”

Jerry pondered the new sign and laughed, “I guess some things don’t change.”

They caught the road heading east as the sun began to set. Jerry watched it in the mirror as it touched the horizon and began a quick descent.

“Hmm.”

Erica heard his mild musing and asked what he was thinking about.

“The sunset is behind me. And I’m okay with that.”

- END -

More about me:

I was born in Canada; I grew up in Texas. In between, I’ve had a thousand fascinations. Little things. Trivial things. Almost anything can catch my imagination and spur on a thought—a random article on Wikipedia can cost me hours of a day as I link from page to page. Mix this active imagination with poor time management skills and you get me.

I have more ideas for stories than I have time to tell. But, I’m trying; I write in the wee hours, the downtime hours, and the many hours when I should be sleeping. One day I hope to write in the daylight hours. Maybe then I’ll be able to stay a step ahead of my imagination.

Until then, I’ll do my best to write books worth reading with jokes worth laughing at as fast as I can. The serious stuff is being taken care of by a world full of great writers. I don’t want to shock you or change your mind. I don’t even care if it makes you think. I just want you to squirt that drink out your nose.

Hope it’s not carbonated.

That tends to sting.

Please visit my author page
here.

Check out my other books at amazon.com:

Dumb White Husband vs. The Grocery Store (A Short Story)

Laugh-out-loud funny!

“Warning: Do not read this book anywhere where silence is necessary. This is a laugh-out-loud book. My three-year-old was sleeping beside me while I read it and I had to hold my hand over my mouth all the way through to keep from waking him up. The whole thing is hilarious! Good thing it’s a short story or I might have strained something trying to be quiet. I’ll be better prepared when I read Tortugas Rising and Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors (A Duck & Cover Adventure).”

Hurting (her)self only a little…

“Yes, I hurt myself laughing at the desperate antics of a dumb white husband who just wants to watch the game. Until now, I didn’t realize it was possible to create edge-of-the seat suspense from such a seemingly simple goal. Buy it. Enjoy. It’s hard to find entertainment like this for under a buck.”