The Horror Squad: An Apocalyptic Tale (16 page)
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WIND
started blowing hard with an ear piercing whistle. The fire started sparking and caught some nearby grass on fire. It took seconds before it was engulfed in high rising flames. I looked over after hearing screams to see everyone was engulfed in flames as well. I tried to grab Gizmo and push him into the lake, but the flames were too hot for me to withstand and I could barely breathe or see from the smoke choking me up.
To make things worse, I could start to hear the sound of moans coming over the hill. The rotter’s walked through the flames and were coming my direction with nothing that I could do. The flames were too hot to get close enough to take them out and my rifle was surrounded by my burning friends. I screamed in complete agony as one reached out from the ground and grabbed my ankle. I could feel my skin being burned into my leg.
“Hey! Hey!” I heard someone call out before I felt a tight grip around my wrist.
I opened my eyes to Steven dragging me.
“What the fuck!” I called out confused about the situation.
“You woke me up by screaming some crazy shit and then I look over to see your foot in the campfire.” He explained.
I looked down at my still stinging ankle to see my burnt pant leg. “I can’t believe I dreamt all of that. That was some fucked up shit.”
“What was your dream, little brother?” He asked.
“It was the end…for all of us.” I answered before catching my feet and standing up.
“You need to get some sleep.” He responded.
“I’m just going to walk it off for a bit.” I told him.
“Well, care if I join you?” He asked.
“What, you think I’m going to just run off?” I questioned.
“Never know what’s on your mind, little brother.” He made clear.
I started walking down the bank and he followed closely behind.
About a quarter mile down I could see the outline of something big. “What the fuck is that?”
He cupped his hands over his eyes as if he was blocking out the sun for a better view. “I don’t know.”
I started laughing. “You turning your hands into binoculars?”
He didn’t respond, just kept walking with me. As we got closer I could see the moon casted over windows.
“Holy shit! That’s a backhoe!” I shouted.
“What does that mean?” He questioned my excitement.
“It means we’re getting the fuck out of here!” I hollered as I ran up to it.
I was surprised to see the keys were still in it and it had three quarters of a tank of gas. I fired it up with a single turn of the key and started lifting the anchored legs up as well as the front bucket and stinger.
Steven climbed inside with me and closed the door. “Does this thing have a heater, because it’s cold?”
“Yeah, but we’re going to conserve gas. I don’t want to be stranded again.” I told him before I took off.
“Yeah, I’m definitely tired of this walking shit.” He answered.
I bounced up and down in my seat with every rock I rolled over. I could finally see our camp fire in the distance that looked like a firefly staying in place. The closer I got, the bigger it grew. By the time I pulled up, everyone was awake from the rumble of the motor.
Gizmo had already snatched his rifle and had it aimed towards me. I lowered the front bucket and stepped out.
“You guys coming?” I called out.
“Where the hell did you end up with that?” Gizmo called back after lowering his rifle.
“Found it down the bank a ways.” I answered.
Gizmo climbed inside with me and Steven and the rest jumped in the front bucket. I raised the bucket a few feet and leveled it up before I pulled off.
“How did you learn to drive one of these?” Gizmo questioned.
“Well, before I became a full time author, I worked for the City of San Angelo at the water department. I was an equipment operator, which is just a fancy way of saying that I operated the backhoe.” I responded.
“I never knew that.” He replied.
“You never asked.” I suggested.
It was funny watching the guys in the bucket. I was bouncing, but they had it way worse being in the front like that and they had no way to really brace themselves. I did try to ease down the wall of rocks so I didn’t sling any of them out.
SEARCHING FREEDOM
WE STOPPED
and picked up all the people that looked normal on the way to the high school. We examined each of them to make sure none of them had been bit once we got to the school.
The school was already fenced off and bunkers had already been set in place from the military before they had gone in to try and stop the spread. Martin Holsinger was the only survivor we found and he was still at his post watching the gate.
In time, we each got jobs and the apocalypse had become a way of life. So in the name of our squad, let’s go kick some Rotter ASS!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I LOOKED
over to see Gizmo fast asleep against the side glass with drool streaming from his mouth. I started bumping the break to see him start to fall over, but would catch himself, sit back up and pass right back out. I did it three or four times for good measure. Steven and I laughed. He finally woke up and wiped the drool from his mouth.
“Dick!” He called me.
I just laughed more.
We finally found the train track once again in the small town of Edgewood. The backhoe shifted side to side going over the tracks and then went smooth again. Just a short distance further led us back to the main road. I hung our left turn and was happy to see the familiar path that would lead us back home.
It took about forty-five minutes to make the fifteen mile drive. Pulling up to the gates, there was no Martin sitting up at his post. The gates were still closed, but the whole place was ambushed in rotters.
I folded the bucket up a bit and crashed through the front gate. Then I pulled to the side to dump my guys in the back of a truck. I had Steven climb out and grab a tank of gas. He grabbed the gas and handed it across to Gizmo where he folded the window out and started pouring it into the tank. The gas sloshed around as I power housed through the hoards. I rammed as many as I could against buildings and vehicles to cut their ass in half. I’d dump their top halves and then pull back forward and crushing them with the backhoe’s bucket.
After what seemed like hours of pure brutality, it was safe to disengage the backhoe and move inside where the rest of my team joined me.
First we stacked up and went into the school. There was at least a rotter every five square feet of each other. We fired round after round dropping them. After clearing the first room, we left Rachel and Jason with a couple machetes and then pushed forward. None of our people could be found. I was beginning to think they had already met their doom and we had already taken them out.
COMING SOON
“THE HORROR SQUAD”
COMIC BOOK
FIND MORE GREAT BOOKS FROM BEST SELLER AND AWARD WINNING AUTHOR TJ WEEKS AT:
http://www.amazon.com/TJ-Weeks/e/B00QG4AENW/
BE SURE TO SUBSCRIBE TO TJ WEEKS’ NEWS LETTER AND GET FIRST HAND NEWS ON ALL HIS RELEASES TO INCLUDE TEASERS AT:
