Rotter Apocalypse (15 page)

“That was a great meal,” said Windows.

“It was, Mr. Denning,” said Cindy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Denning tossed his napkin on the table. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Where did you get pork chops?” asked Windows.

“I used to own a pig. He died of old age shortly after the outbreak, so I butchered him. Most of the meat went into jerky, which is long since gone. Some of it went into pork chops which I froze for special occasions. This seemed as special as any.”

Windows appreciated the act of kindness.

Cindy asked, “What was his name?”

“Whose name?”

“The pig.”

Denning grinned. “My wife named him. His name was Porky.”

Cindy giggled. “Porky Pig?”

“I know. It’s stupid.”

Cindy lifted up her fork with a piece of pork on it. “Th-th-that’s all, folks.”

Cindy and Denning both laughed.

“At least we missed the rain today,” Windows remarked after the two settled down.

“The crops could have used it, though.” Denning frowned. “It’s been a while.”

“With all that thunder we heard from the north this afternoon, I’m surprised we didn’t get a downpour.”

“The funny thing was, there were no storm clouds in the sky.” Denning shrugged. He stood up and began to collect the dishes.

Windows stopped him. “I’ll take of those.”

“No need for that.”

“Yes, there is. It’s the way my mother raised me. Whoever cooks, the other cleans.”

“Well, your mother raised you right. At least let me help bring them to the sink.”

While the adults gathered the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink, Cindy asked, “Can I go outside and play?”

“I don’t know,” said Windows. “It’s already dark.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“She should be safe as long as she stays near the house,” said Denning.

Cindy clapped her hands and headed for the door. Denning called out after her, “Don’t go off to see the chickens or Walther. Understand?”

“Yes.” Cindy pushed through the kitchen door out into the backyard.

A few minutes passed before Windows said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking us in.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“No…” Windows picked up a dinner plate and rinsed it. “You didn’t have to give us a place to stay. You didn’t have to trust us. You didn’t have to…to….”

“Treat you decently?”

Windows averted her gaze.

Denning reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s my pleasure. Besides, there was no way I could turn you two away. I would have to have been—”

“Windows!” Cindy yelled from outside. “Mr. Denning!”

Windows dropped the plate she held, shattering it into a dozen pieces, and raced for the door. Denning followed, grabbing his Bushmaster on the way out. Windows ran up to Cindy and hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why did you call us?”

Cindy pointed north. “The sky’s glowing.”

Windows and Denning looked in that direction. A yellowish-orange tinge spread across the horizon.

“Is that the sunset?” Windows asked hesitantly.

“No.” Denning pointed to the west. “Sunset is in that direction.”

“It’s pretty,” said Cindy. “I like the way it reflects off the clouds.”

“Those aren’t clouds, Cindy.” Denning shook his head. “That’s smoke.”

“Smoke?”

“Something’s on fire. And judging from the direction and distance, I’m guessing it’s Montreal.”

Windows felt a cold chill race down her spine. “Are we safe?”

“It should burn itself out long before it gets here.”

Windows couldn’t help notice that Denning didn’t sound as certain about his answer as he usually did on other matters. That chill down her spine made its way into her gut.

Denning forced a smile, and some of his certainty returned. “I think it’s safe to say that what we heard this afternoon wasn’t thunder.” Wrapping an arm around Cindy’s shoulder, he escorted the young girl back to the house. “Come on. You can help me clean the dishes.”

The two went back inside. Windows stayed in the backyard a few moments longer, her gaze fixed on the conflagration in the far distance.

“We should leave tonight.” They were the first words Tibor had spoken that evening.

It caught Dravko by surprise. “What are you talking about?”

From the top of the general store where he and Dravko kept guard, Tibor stared with contempt down on the rest of their party as they ate dinner. “Robson is the only one who knows what he’s doing. DeWitt and Roberta are somewhat useful. The rest… they’re going to get us all killed. If we run into rotters, these humans won’t know how to defend themselves. Robson will die trying to save them, and will expect us to go to the slaughter with him. He’s putting everyone in danger for them.”

“It’s Robson’s way,” Dravko argued, although not convincingly. “He can’t abandon anyone. He lost half his people fighting for us at Site R.”

“These people are not our responsibility. We owe it to ourselves to save what’s left of our own race.”

What bothered Dravko most was that he agreed with Tibor. After defending Robson for the past few weeks, he could no longer condone this course of action. It seemed as if Robson compensated for not rescuing Windows by helping out everyone else. He had agreed with the raid on Price’s camp and the freeing of the hostages because they were going after one of their own. There was no rationalization Dravko could use to convince himself to go along with this folly any further. Robson’s decisions were no longer made based on the needs of the group, but to satisfy the inner demons eating away at him. He had always thought of Robson as one of the few humans that he liked and could rely on. Dravko could no longer allow sentimentality to cloud his judgment. He needed to do what was best for him and Tibor.

“What are you suggesting?”

Tibor shifted his position to face his Master. “That while we’re on the road we go our separate way.”

“You’re no longer considering turning any of the survivors?”

Tibor shook his head. “That would put us in conflict with Robson, and I don’t want that. We owe him that much.”

“What about Caslow? He rides with us.”

“We’ll take him to feed off of.” Tibor chuckled. “The others have a better chance without that little
mudak
.”

Dravko hesitated. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dissatisfaction on Tibor’s face. He finally said, “Okay. We’ll do it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, with one caveat. We wait until the right moment. Either we run into rotters and use that to cover our escape or we find a place that’s good for us and break away.”

“Deal.”

Dravko had not seen his friend this happy since before the outbreak. Not that he blamed him. Dravko himself felt a satisfaction he had not felt in months. He had followed his mistress’ orders to join with the humans to survive and to keep the other vampires in line, even though it meant having to banish one of their own, Vladimir, from camp. With the camp destroyed, his mistress murdered, and most of their human allies dead, it was time to set out and rebuild the coven.

And hopefully to spread vampirism around the world again.

*  *  *

Robson finished the stale granola bar and washed it down with a mouthful of water so he didn’t gag, forcing himself to swallow. He spread out his roadmap on the asphalt. The others gathered in a circle, some standing, some crouching. Only Clint did not join them, instead leaning against the RAV-4 fender.

“Here’s the plan for tonight. We’re here.” Robson pointed to the location on the map for Waits River, and then dragged his finger northwest toward the Vermont-Canadian border. “This is where we’re heading.”

“Why there?” Linda asked.

“According to the map, there are a lot of ski resorts and bed and breakfasts in this region. I’m hoping we can find an isolated one to set up camp. With luck, we’ll find one with a fireplace and wood stoves so we can keep warm. Once we get settled in, we’ll make some supply runs, stockpile our resources, and sit tight for the winter. When spring arrives, we can start planting crops and building up our camp.”

“It’s a sound plan,” said Ed, the former Marine. “I’m sure a lot of others had the same idea. What if we run into other camps?”

“We’ll avoid anyone we run into and make sure we establish our own camp in an isolated area.”

“What if they’re friendly?” asked Corey, the teenager. “You’re assuming that anyone we run into will be assholes like Price. There’s a good chance they may not be. Suppose they’re like you, or that dude Simmons? I mean, if we find a camp that’s already set up, wouldn’t it be easier to join forces with them rather than start from scratch?”

“The kid makes a good point,” DeWitt said. “You remember how long it took us to set up, and how difficult that first winter was. And we had a lot more people than we do now.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Robson said. “Joining another group means we’ll have to put ourselves under their control.”

“What? Is the boss man afraid to give up some of his precious power?” chided Corey.

Gary chimed in. “We didn’t give up Price to be under your rule.”

“You didn’t give up Price,” snapped Roberta. “We saved you from him.”

“So that gives you control over us?” Gary asked, squinting without his glasses.

“Leave them alone,” snapped Yukiko. “I can understand him not wanting to trust others. I trusted Price when I first met him.”

“What are the chances of that happening twice?” asked Magda, the German exchange student.

The group began to all talk at once until a deep, quiet voice said, “Cut the shit, people.”

Everyone stopped talking and looked over at the RAV-4. Clint pushed himself off of the SUV and strode over, stopping behind Caslow.

“None of us have to be here,” Clint said slowly. “You could have gone off on your own, like the camp followers. Or you could have thrown your lot in with the others who stayed behind. You put your trust in this man, and now you’re all second guessing every decision he makes. I got news for you. He’s in charge, so you all do as he tells you or go your separate ways. For what it’s worth, this man drove a thousand miles through zombie country to find the vaccine for this virus, took down Price and the other assholes holding us prisoner, and is now offering us a second chance. He’s earned my trust, and that means he deserves my respect. Does anyone disagree?”

No one did.

Robson met the man’s gaze. “Thanks.”

“James.”

“Excuse me?” Robson asked.

“My real name is James.”

“Thanks, James.”

James nodded once and walked back over to the SUV.

“That’s it, then.” Robson picked up the map and stood. “We’ll leave in fifteen minutes.”

The others sauntered off. Robson called over to Caslow. “Go on the roof and tell Dravko we’ll be leaving soon, so we’re ending the watch.”

“Sure thing.”

After Caslow ran off, Robson contemplated what had happened. Corey may be a pain in the ass, yet in this case he was correct. Their best chance of survival would be to find a like-minded group and team up with them, assuming anyone would be willing to take them in. Joining another group would also mean relinquishing power, which meant giving up control over their destinies. What good would it be to save these people from Price only to turn them over to someone just like him? He didn’t know if he could do that yet.

Folding the map, Robson placed it inside his jacket pocket and went to check on his vehicle.

Robson’s convoy set out an hour after sundown. He took the lead, followed by Roberta in the RAV-4 and DeWitt in the Subaru. The vampires brought up the rear in their modified Humvee. They traveled until they reached Route 302 and headed west toward Barre and Montpelier. The plan was to race through Barre, pick up Route 14 in the center of town, and head north into resort country. As they entered the suburbs, Robson breathed a sigh of relief. The streets were wide open, with no signs of abandoned vehicles or rotters. This should be easy. He keyed the microphone button on his radio.

“We’re almost at Route 14, so be prepared to turn.”

“How far?” Roberta asked.

“Less than a mile on the right.” Robson raised the map to glance at it. “There should be a park in the middle of the intersection with a statue on one end. That’s where we—”

Linda yelled out, “Mike!”

He looked up in time to see the street blocked by a mass of vehicles parked in both lanes and on the sidewalks. He slammed on the brakes. The other vehicles in the convoy did the same.

“Is anything wrong?” Dravko asked from the rear Humvee.

“The road’s blocked. Hang on a minute.” Still holding the radio in his hand, Robson checked the map. The building off to his right bore a sign indicating it was the Vermont Historical Society, which meant the three-story brick building to his left must be the Health Department. “There’s a street about a hundred feet behind us on the right that cuts through the neighborhood and will bring us out onto Route 14. Let’s back up and go that way.”

Dravko and DeWitt shifted into reverse and backed down the street a hundred feet to wait for the others.

*  *  *

When the road behind was clear, Roberta shifted her RAV-4 into reverse. Initiating a three-point turn to the left, she accelerated too quickly. The RAV-4 bounced over the curb with a heavy jolt and rammed into a tree. The yellow tire pressure light on the console lit up.

“Shit.”

Ed leaned forward from the back seat. “Don’t tell me we’ve got a flat.”

“Let me check.” Opening the driver’s door, Roberta slid out and examined the tire on the left side. “These seem okay. Gary, how’s the other side?”

Gary opened the door and leaned out to check the back tire, then stood up and peered over the door to check on the front. “I don’t see a flat.”

“Good.”

A single beep of a car horn caught her attention. Robson had pulled his Humvee alongside the sidewalk and had rolled down the window. “Are you okay?”

“I backed over the curb too hard. No problems, though. I’ll be ri—”

Linda screamed at the same instant Roberta heard the moaning. A horde of rotters broke through the hedges surrounding the Health Department parking lot and swarmed the RAV-4. Roberta jumped back into the vehicle and slammed shut the door. Dead hands scratched at the rear window and scraped along the side of the SUV. She shifted into drive. Then she realized Gary still stood on the door landing.

“Get back in the car!”

“Fuck that.” Gary jumped out of the RAV-4 and ran across the lawn. He made it only a few feet before a rotter in blood-stained scrubs grabbed him by the neck and knocked him to the ground. Panic stricken and desperate, Gary struggled to his feet and tried to break free. He might have made it if two other rotters hadn’t fell upon him. One clutched his arm and bit into the wrist, the other clasped his head and took a chunk out of his neck. Gary collapsed to his knees and wailed as three more of the living dead fell on him, each pushing their way through to feed.

Roberta noticed none of this. Her concentration focused on the passenger door Gary had left open and the approaching rotters. Ed attempted to close it, but the front seats were in his way. Roberta climbed across the center console and reached for the handle. When she did, her foot came off of the brake. The RAV-4 rolled forward until the front end collided with Robson’s Humvee. Roberta used the brief reprieve to scramble across the passenger seat, grab the handle, and slam the door. A rotter in a Vermont State Trooper uniform had grabbed the jamb, and its fingers prevented her from shutting it tight. She held on as two more sets of dead hands pried their fingers between the door and the jamb and attempted to yank it open. Strewn out across the front seats, she had little leverage to hold them back.

“Ed, help me!”

*  *  *

Robson leaned out the open window to assess the situation. The RAV-4 had drifted to its left when it rolled so that the front bumper had struck his left rear wheel, and the angle of its fender prevented Robson from opening his door. He couldn’t get out and help Roberta, and he couldn’t risk moving the Humvee without tearing up its tire.

A moaning caught his attention. Robson glanced to his right to see a rotter in a nurse’s uniform only a foot away lunging at him. Out of instinct, he raised his right arm to block it, and felt its mouth on the top of his hand. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the bite. It only scraped its teeth across the top of his hand. When Robson opened his eyes, he saw that the rotter had no lower jaw, only a gaping maw that dripped coagulated blood onto the white uniform. Robson drew back his hand, balled it into a fist, and punched the nurse rotter between the eyes. It staggered back, pushing away three others closing in. Robson rolled up the window.

Thankfully, Linda had sense enough to get on the radio and had already called for back-up.

*  *  *

“Help us!” Linda’s panicked voice blared over the radio. “We can’t move and rotters are swarming us.”

DeWitt grabbed his weapon. Since none of the rotters were paying any attention to him or the vampires, he had a chance to take the pressure off the others. He opened the door to the Subaru and climbed out. Yukiko clutched his right arm and held him in place.

“Don’t leave us.”

“I’ll only be a minute. You’ll be safe.”

Yukiko maintained her grip.

James reached between the seats, placing one his hands on Yukiko’s wrist. “You have to let him go. I’ll stay here and protect you.”

“No!” she cried.

The more James tried to break her grip, the tighter she held on. DeWitt glanced ahead of him. Rotters surrounded Roberta’s RAV-4 on three sides and had closed in around the front of Robson’s Humvee. They were losing precious time.

*  *  *

“Screw this.” Dravko backed up their Humvee another twenty feet.

“Are we leaving now?” asked Tibor.

“No.” Dravko shifted into drive and accelerated. “We’re saving their sorry asses.”

Dravko steered the Humvee around DeWitt’s Subaru and accelerated. When he reached the other two vehicles, he turned hard left. The right fender of his Humvee scraped the rear end of Robson’s vehicle, doing only minor damage. It then swiped along the RAV-4, ripping away the rotters gathered along its right side, either crushing them between the two vehicles or flinging them out of the way. Dravko veered left again, continuing up the embankment to the Health Department parking lot and stopping. He repeatedly revved his engine to draw attention to himself. It worked. Half the rotters forgot about Roberta and moved toward the new sound.

*  *  *

“What the fuck?” Ed asked.

Roberta saw Dravko’s Humvee bearing down on her. She lowered her head and prepared for impact. Instead, he raced past, tearing away the rotters. She felt the pulling on the door stop. It opened for a moment as severed fingers and hands lost their grip and dropped to the ground. Roberta slammed the door tight and slid back into the driver’s seat.

“Hang on!”

Shifting into reverse, she depressed the gas pedal and spun the steering wheel hard to the left. The RAV-4 backed up the embankment, this time avoiding the tree behind her.

*  *  *

The instant Roberta moved her RAV-4 away from the Humvee, Robson accelerated and backed out of the area. He continued down to the next street, used it to initiate a three-point turn, and headed back along Route 302 in the direction they had come from. Roberta gunned it off the embankment and followed. DeWitt made a tight U-turn and fell into third place. Pulling off the embankment, Dravko headed for the side street, planning on using this opportunity to make their escape. At the last moment, he steered straight and followed the others.

Tibor stared at him. “Now would be a great time to make our break.”

“What ‘break’?” Caslow asked from the back seat.

“Shut up, human,” Timor barked. “You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“No.” Dravko glanced over at his friend. “Something tells me to stay with them a little while longer.”

Tibor snorted. “Fear?”

Dravko ignored the taunt. “Instinct.”