Wormwood Dawn (Episode V) (5 page)

The panel slid off easily, tipping outward and flopping onto the grass. Dan looked out, turning left and right. In the distance he heard the sound of gunfire. Lots of it. Something was happening.

“Let’s go,” he said, crawling out.

The alley was right where Andy said it was. It was long and slightly curved, but only about four feet wide. It was very uncomfortable looking. Nevertheless, they dashed toward it, keeping low and sticking close to the church. They crossed the small parking lot, stopping at the entrance to the alley and looking behind them.

The sounds of gunfire were growing louder, and among the shots were screams and groans.

“There must be a fucking horde or something,” Drew said. “I wonder where it came from.”

“I don’t know,” Dan said. “But it might be good news for us. It’ll keep them distracted while we steal back our shit.”

They crept down the alley, keeping their eyes on the road ahead. Though dark, the street showed some movement; slow, shuffling movement. Dan stopped, motioning for Drew to look ahead.

“Shufflers or something,” Dan said.

“As long as we stay quiet, they won’t notice us,” Drew replied.

Dan looked at their weapons. He still had the fence post. Drew still had his rebar and silenced Glock. He wondered if they could make it if they had to burst through the horde.

“Still,” he said. “We may have to detour. We’ll go ahead one more block then turn left. Otherwise, we’ll be running right along with the dummies.”

More gunshots erupted nearby as several gunmen apparently took up defensive positions in the horde’s path. The creatures quickened their pace, moaning and growling in greater ferocity as they charged forth. As Dan and Drew crept forward a few more paces, a shambler came into view at the end of the alley. It stopped, sniffed the air in their direction, and then began stumbling into the entrance.

“Fuck,” Drew whispered. “We’ll make too much noise killing it.”

“Use the Glock if you need to,” Dan said.

Drew nodded, pulling the Glock from his pants. “I only have a few rounds left,” he said, raising the pistol.

The shambler came forward a few more steps, and then stopped facing them. Its face curled up into a scowl and its rotting maw opened as it hissed. It saw them. Drew aimed and fired. The pistol barely made a sound, and the round struck the shambler right in the forehead. It fell with a groan and twitched for a moment. Dan and Drew held their breath. Ahead, a few shufflers stopped and turned in their direction, their heads lolling around as they attempted to figure out what was going on.

“Fuck them,” Drew said, stuffing the Glock back in his pants. He took up his rebar and ran forward.

“Fuck,” Dan cursed, following him close, poising the fence post to strike.

They burst onto the street among the horde. Dan swung his weapon at the nearest shuffler, chopping the top of its head off. Drew rammed his rebar into another, impaling it through the eye. The gunshots continued, and Dan could sense shufflers dropping all around him, and feel the wind from passing bullets.

They reached the alley on the opposite side of the street, ducking into the shadows. But several shufflers followed them, their clawed hands reaching out to grab them.

“Keep going,” Dan said, pushing Drew ahead.

They barreled down the darkened alley, knocking over garbage cans and other large items. When they reached the other end, they stopped, looking to see if the street was clear.

“Let’s go,” Dan said, satisfied.

They turned left, keeping their eyes to the block on their left side, looking for anything that resembled a garage. When they neared the end of the block, the desperate yelling of a man caught their attention. There, to their right, a group of shufflers surrounded a tree where a man was tied. He kicked out with his legs, knocking the creatures back. But still they came, clawing their way toward him. Dan felt the need to help him. He obviously wasn’t one of the idiots who threw them in the church. They seemed like bigots, and this guy was black.

“Son of a bitch,” Dan said.

“Let’s go,” Drew said, charging toward the trapped man.

They took down the shufflers with a few strikes, splitting their skulls and stomping them into the ground. The black man stood there, breathless, relieved that someone had come to his rescue.

“Cut me loose,” he said. “There’s a buck knife in my right boot.”

Dan dropped his fence post, feeling the man’s ankle. The knife was right where he said it was. He pulled it out, and went around back to cut the man’s bonds. He handed the knife back, clapping the man on the back.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The man nodded, leaning down to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks man. I thought I was done for.”

“We need to find the garage,” Dan said. “These good old boys locked our shit in there when they stopped us.”

“You too, huh?” the man said. “At least they didn’t tie you to a damn tree.”

“We got worse,” Drew said. “What’s your name?”

“Cliff,” the man said.

Dan and Drew introduced themselves, continuing on toward the left.

“The garage is this way,” Cliff said. “That’s where I was when they caught me. I was just looking for supplies for my group.”

Dan shot Drew a look. “You have a group?” he asked.

Cliff nodded. “Near Columbus,” he said. “We’re holed up in an old impound lot.”

“An impound lot?” Dan asked. “Is it secure?”

“Mostly,” Cliff said. “It’s fenced in, with barbed wire and shit. There are a few deer stands we use for guard towers, and there are sheds there that we hauled in. Everybody stays in those.”

Sounds alright
, Dan thought. Better than riding around in a Hummer, wandering aimlessly. Maybe it was time to join a group anyway. They would be more likely to survive, he supposed. Although, the two of them had done a pretty good fucking job so far on their own.

“Here it is,” Cliff said. “I take it that was your Hummer in there.”

“Yeah,” Dan said, scoping out the garage.

“What do you got in there?” Cliff asked.

“Guns, ammo, drugs, canned food, beer, water.”

“Shit,” Cliff said. “Get me back to my camp and I bet you can stay. I’ll talk them into it. That’s all shit we can use, and we definitely need more testosterone. It’s a goddamn clam fest there.”

Dan chuckled as they crouched down behind the garage. There was a small gravel parking lot ahead of them, large enough to hold two or three trucks. The back entrance to the building was open, and a dim light cast moving shadows on the inside. There were people in there, Dan realized, evidently not very comfortable with what was going on outside.

“I wonder if they’re armed,” Dan said.

“They were last time I checked,” Cliff replied. “But as I remember, there were only three of them. We could probably take them out if we do it right.”

“What kind of door is in the front?” Drew asked.

“Big aluminum door,” Cliff said. “It’s probably locked, but I bet a Hummer could smash right through it. Rip it off the damn track, no problem.”

“As long as the keys are still in it,” Dan said.

Drew snickered, holding up a jingling set of keys. “I always keep spares,” he said.

Dan grinned, readying his fence post. Drew pulled out the Glock, checking the magazine. “Three rounds left,” he said. “One for each of them if Cliff’s right.”

They crept through the hedges that separated the alley from the parking lot. Around them, the sounds of gunshots and screaming infected echoed menacingly. When Dan reached the door, he crouched to the side, looking in. There were three men inside, fiddling with the contents of the Hummer. They had some of the rifles out, nervously aiming them at the front garage door, fidgeting, and bouncing in anticipation. Strangely, none of them seemed to give a shit that the back door was open.

Cliff drew his knife, moving behind Dan. Drew held the Glock at the ready, waiting for Dan’s signal. The men in the garage began moving toward the large front door, listening to the chaotic mess outside. Dan nodded, creeping into the room behind the Hummer. The others followed.

Without hesitation, Dan raised his weapon and chopped down at the nearest man’s head. It impacted with a thunk, and his victim groaned briefly before collapsing into a bloody pile. Drew fired a single shot at the man closest to him, putting a 9mm round right in his forehead. As the final man turned in shock, Cliff pushed him against the garage door, clamping his mouth closed with his hand and driving the knife into his gut, twisting it with gritted teeth until his victim slid down the door.

“Alright,” Dan said. “Drew, you drive.”

Dan and Cliff gathered the weapons that had been removed and closed them up in the cargo area. Drew hopped into the driver’s seat, and waited for them to pile into the back seat. Dan had grabbed an M4 and handed Cliff another. Drew started the engine, putting it in gear and waiting for Dan’s nod.

The Hummer tore through the cheap garage door with a deafening bang. They plowed into the horde of shufflers outside, crushing several of them under the tires. Shockingly, the street was full of them.

“Jesus Christ!” Cliff said. “It’s a fucking herd or something.”

“Go!” Dan said.

Drew squealed the tires, plowing into more shufflers and a shambler or two. There were gunmen further down, who fired shots before dodging out of the way. Dan and Cliff stood up through the sunroof, taking aim at Mason’s men as they scrambled to fend off the undead.

“
Go south on 37!”
Cliff shouted to Drew.

A Stalker appeared out of nowhere, landing on the hood on all fours. It snarled, and swirled its four tentacles, lashing out at Dan and Cliff. Dan fired in its direction, knocking it back a ways as Drew swerved to dislodge it. Cliff turned to fire, blasting the creature’s head to pieces. Drew rolled over it when it hit the street and squealed his tires as he headed back toward the highway.

Behind them, another truck appeared. Dan turned to look, seeing a man in the passenger side crawl out the window with a rifle.

“Shit,” he muttered.

They passed the gas station again, barely seeing the intersection in the moonlight. Drew bounced around the corner, turning left onto the highway. The pickup was right behind them. Dan heard the buzz of a bullet whizz by his head. He and Cliff raised their rifles, firing into the truck’s windshield. Though glass shattered, the truck still came after them.

Dan focused, feeling the world slow down around him. He aimed for the shooter, carefully matching the bouncing motion of the pursuing truck. He saw the flash of the shooter firing, but ignored it as he zeroed in. Beside him, he heard Cliff groan and cuss, and saw the man’s rifle bounce down the back of the Hummer onto the street.

Then, he fired.

The passenger was jolted back as his head exploded. The rifle he held bounced onto the highway as his body slumped and was tossed out the window. Dan turned to help Cliff back inside, grasping his wounded shoulder and reaching into the back for something to wrap the gunshot.

“I’m alright,” Cliff said. “Just finish him off.”

“This guy drives like a pro,” Drew said. “He must be a fucking race car driver.”

Dan looked in the cargo area of the Hummer for something more powerful. There was one
LAW
disposable left, hidden beneath a pile of rifles. That would do the trick, but he hated to waste it on a pickup.

“Fuck it,” he said, reaching back to grab it. “This good ol’ boy’s goin’ down.”

He primed the rocket, standing up through the sunroof and facing the target. The driver was apparently unaware of what was about to happen and kept on coming at full speed. It was difficult to stay steady, as Drew was all over the road.

“Keep straight,” Dan shouted. “I can’t hit shit with you zig-zagging.”

After a few seconds, Drew straightened out, and Dan focused on the pickup. He flipped out the sight, flicked off the safety, and aimed. The pickup was pretty close behind; maybe a little too close. He had to find a way to put some distance between them.

“Speed up,” he said. “A lot!”

Drew punched it on the straightaway. Slowly, the Hummer pulled ahead, putting about twenty feet between them and their pursuer. With one last breath, Dan pulled the trigger. The rocket popped out with a bang, instantly bursting into a cloud of death once it hit the pickup. The pursuer’s front tires left the road, landing roughly, and the truck spun out. Dan dropped the spent rocket launcher, watching as the truck flipped and rolled like a snowball, disintegrating into a spew of truck parts.

Dan laughed and sat back down through the sunroof, grinning to Cliff.

“Damn,” Cliff said. “He blowed up real good.”

Drew chuckled in the front seat. Dan looked at Cliff’s wound, seeing that the bullet had passed right through the meat. It looked painful, but at least it was clean.

“You’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll patch that up.”

As he reached for the first aid kit, Drew called back from the front seat. “So, where are we headed, Cliff?”