Zombie Rush 2 (9 page)

“So you have it all figured out, huh?” Benson said in a relaxed tone. He didn’t feel put down or stepped on. In a way, he knew they were right and was relieved that someone took the ball away from him. There could be over ten thousand refugees hiding away in Little Rock, waiting for the opportunity to escape the dead. Ten thousand refugees and over a million zombies … the odds were not in their favor.

“Why does it have to be ordnance?” Cat asked.

“What do you mean, dear?” Krupp asked his daughter.

“Well, there are several fireworks stores on the outskirts of town. Wouldn’t that help with the distractions?”

“Perfectly, I would think,” Brett added just as the radio buzzed.

“Officer Benson?”

“This is Benson, go ahead. Over,” he said to the voice everyone recognized.

“Hi, this is Tasha from the station,” she said and waited.

“I know that, Tasha. You’re going to have to say ‘over’ so I know when you’re done speaking, okay? Over.”

“Oh shit, I knew that … sorry. I received an email last night from a security guard outside of town. He’s a guard at a high-security distribution warehouse and is trapped by the other guards who’ve turned. It seems that he might have a lot of what we need right there … oh, over.”

“What do you mean a lot of what we need? Over.”

“Well, he doesn’t know what’s in the lockers, and he hasn’t been through the facility, because it’s extensive and he’s not allowed. But it
is
high security and has some big names on their docket; names like Hornady, Heckler and Koch, and others that might have some things that would be useful. Over.”

“Thank you, Tasha. Was there anything else? Over.”

“Nope, other than I have started a prerecorded loop to start playing over the rape of Little Rock. Over.”

“I would like to hear that before it is broadcast. Also, I don’t think ‘rape’ will be a proper term for this endeavor. Thank you, and out.”

***

“You know, sometimes you might push too hard,” Skit said from under a two hundred pound dog that decided to share the couch with him. Sedgwick and Skit seemed to hit it off, although Skit seemed a little reluctant.

“Why don’t you just stay all cuddled up with your new boyfriend.”

“What, more gay jokes?” he said as he wrestled the dog into allowing him a sitting position. “Well, if I was gay—and I am not saying am—I wouldn’t be spending time with a shedder like him. Damn, I didn’t think short-haired dogs were supposed to shed like this.”

“I wouldn’t know. Tonka is my first four-legged friend,” Lisa replied.

“And already you’re sleeping together … such a slut.”

“Slut? Our relationship is all business, isn’t it boy?” She reached down and ruffled Tonka’s neck.

“So what is the plan today?”

“I don’t know; I guess we should head back and help with the Little Rock endeavor, but I feel like I’m in the way most of the time.” She saw a cloud pass over Skit’s brow. “What is it?”

“What?”

“Something struck you when I said Little Rock. What is it?”

“My kids, they live in Little Rock with their mom. I haven’t seen them in a couple of years, so they probably don’t even remember me but … Well, I would hate to think of them alone and surviving without me trying to get to them.”

“We’ll get them, Skit. If they’re alive, we’ll get them.”

“What about your murderer? Those corpses we saw yesterday were pretty messed up. So … the guy in the picture, Skinner, that’s the guy who fucked with Ally?” Skit asked.

“As far as I can tell. Let me ask you a philosophical question.” Lisa tried to think how she was going to present her question. “Are the acts of a murderer more heinous now, after we have lost so many to zombies, than it was before, or are they less?”

“I guess I don’t get what you’re driving at.”

“I’m not driving at anything really, just asking your opinion. Let me rephrase it; is it more important to catch this guy now, after the apocalypse, or does it just not really matter anymore with all of the death we have all dealt with?”

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter today, but tomorrow when he starts killing again, it’s going to matter, I think,” Skit said, but she could see that he was still thinking on the question. “I don’t know that we’re at a philosophical time in the world right now, Rey.”

“Rey? How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Your name, Reynolds. It just kind of fits,” Skit said.

Lisa pondered what he was saying before she had to agree. “Okay, you can call me Rey but keep it between us. Now, back to the subject. Isn’t it times of duress where philosophy plays a greater role within our lives?”

“In hindsight I think it does, but during … no. During is nothing but run and shoot, it seems. There isn’t much time for deep thought when thirty or forty dead humans want to eat you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So what do you want to do? Do you want to head back to the compound and try to help them there or go hunt a serial killer?”

“You’re the boss but we should head back to the station for another broadcast before we do anything.”

“Yeah, what did you say on the radio yesterday?”

“It was nothing, really. Just an old prayer that I remembered.”

“You’re religious?”

“My dad was a reverend in a Baptist church not twenty miles from here.”

“Do you think he survived all of this?”

“Nope. He’s been gone since I was twelve, and Mom … well, Mom has never really been there.” Lisa could tell that it was not his favorite subject.

“Seems to be a common problem with our generation; parents either weren’t there or you wished they weren’t. At least that’s my experience,” Lisa said, thinking that would end the conversation until she noticed Skit’s mind seemed to drift off.

“What’s bothering you?”

“My kids; two boys, one was only eighteen months when they left.”

“I guess we’re going to Little Rock then, aren’t we?”

“I couldn’t ask that of you. For all I know, they’re stumblers.”

“People are our most valuable resource right now, Skitter—yours are no more or less than anybody else’s.”

“Really? We’re going to go get my kids? You are the most beautiful bald chick I have ever seen.”

“Ha! Two boys, huh? I guess you’re not gay then.”

“Hell, honey, that never matters. Anybody can hop a fence now and again,” he said, and stood there looking at her with a broad smile. “Make your move, girl. That is the only way you will ever find out.”

“Fuck you, Skit. Let’s get packed up and head back to the station for another broadcast.”

***

The short respite they had at Lillian’s house didn’t last. They were discussing how they should deal with her body, but in the end, they simply had to leave her where she sat. Almost immediately, zombies started to come up in her front yard, homing in on the small group that seemed to grow every day. Sticking around for a pitched battle in a stick-built house wasn’t Solomon’s idea of a solid plan; they slipped out the back door and ran for several blocks until they had a break where they could hunker down for a minute or two.

“We can’t keep doing this, Dad. My legs feel like they are going to fall off,” Charlie said, somehow knowing his dad wasn’t going to flip out on him in front of everybody.

“Yeah, Dean, we have to find somewhere to get some rest and maybe eat something. We’ve been running for two days straight,” Lester said.

“Okay, I know of a place that will be safe, but it’s a ways from here.”

“How far?” several desperate voices asked.

“Two miles to the train tracks and another three at least to the south,” Solomon replied.

“Train tracks shouldn’t have nearly as many zombies, should it?” Kodiak asked.

“I think that they’re going to follow us wherever we go, or at least they have been. This place has a fence that’s electrified, and we could even steal some vehicles to get there. I got some keys in my pocket for a Cadillac parked not six blocks from here. We should be able to create a diversion to get some vehicles under us,” Dean said, knowing how zombies were attracted to cars or anything that moved.

“Yeah, we need some vehicles. I don’t think I could make it five miles on foot,” Sue added.

“Lester, do you still have that cube van for your woodworking business?”

“Yes, it’s over by my shop, not far from here.”

“Okay, between the Dodge, the Caddy, and your cube van, we might have enough to make it. We hide here until night and make our move.”

Chapter Eight

Tarnished Knight

They were following their path from the night before when they noticed from over a block away that something up ahead had changed. They began to see writing on storefront windows in big, rust-colored, fingerprinted letters of drying blood. The first recognizable word was
Skitter Pop
. Written below it was
Lisa
, blood dripping down from the
S
, and
Reynolds
hanging below the last
P
in
Pop
. Between her first and last name was a giant arrow pointing to the alcove, followed by the words
a gift
.

The gift slowly revealed itself as a fully animated zombie tied spread eagle across the door to the store, his legs completely eaten off. He growled and snapped at the potential meals that looked up at him.

Lisa grabbed Skit’s sleeve and directed his view to the glass panel above his head. The word, also in blood, clearly said
Art
.

“Oh man, that ain’t even funny. Now I am going to be looking for Matt and Russell.”

“This isn’t a joke, Skit. This is fucking sick. Do you know how long it takes for someone to change once they are infected? And this bastard sat here and watched the whole time.”

“No, look at the other bodies. He sat on a roof and picked off zombies for a while before they got to him.”

“That’s how he would do it too. This fucker gets off on fear. Shit! How could this happen when we were only a few blocks away? There were operators working this area around the clock,” Lisa said as she continued to look at the man, noticing something familiar. She slapped her hand on Skit’s sleeve and pulled his arm hard.

“What?”

“It’s him, Skit; the guy with the flag yesterday. Look at his shirt—it’s him.”

“I hope you are enjoying my gift.” A voice drifted down from the rooftops to fill the street with the echoing drone of forced baritone mixed with pompous. His voice had to be amplified somehow but they couldn’t see it.

Lisa looked at the small-caliber hole in the heads of the zombies, noting that he was shooting a .223 or a 5.56.

“I would think there were enough zombies around to satisfy your blood lust these days, Web.”

“Web, huh? I like that and I am proud of you for knowing my name; Ally can remember well after her accident. Zombies aren’t very fun … kind of boring if you would like to know the truth, Rey,” Web said, causing Lisa to look at Skit in surprise.

Rey was the moniker he had just given her the night before. Could he have been listening? No, it had to be coincidence. The windows were closed and the tones were soft. There was no way he could have heard. Skit shrugged with a surprised and confused look on his face.

A muffled shot rang out, and the hanging zombie jerked once then stopped moving; a perfect, round hole in his forehead. Lisa gave a quick nod to Tonka, who quickly slipped around the corner of the building.

“Yeah, that’s right, Rey, taking care of your little dog will even be more fun than killing zombies,” his voice rang down through the street again.

“You kill my dog and I will end you tonight, Web. Do you hear me?”

“I do hear you and for some reason, I actually take you seriously. That is what’s going to make you so much fun.”

“You are a doctor, Web. We need doctors. Why don’t you just stop this crap and join us?” Lisa asked, knowing that was never a possibility. Of course, Web knew that too and laughed loudly.

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. Hey, maybe I could finish that gyno exam on Ally. That’s right, I know she’s there; I followed her progress all the way down here from Mount Ida. Even provided a boat for her … didn’t realize she was going to gash her head wide open on the propeller though. No, Rey, I’m done taking care of stupid people. Done rescuing idiots who shouldn’t even be considered part of the human race. They are nothing but bottom feeders who I would put back together just for the purpose of pushing them back into society to feed some more. I was glad at first when the apocalypse came, and then I was depressed because my favorite thing suddenly became a bore. Ahhh, but then God smiled and gave me a gift. You are my gift, Lisa, and I am enjoying every second of you.”

Lisa was excited about him sitting and talking so long, but there weren’t the resources available to do much about it. There were no squads or other officers to call in; there was only her and Skit. He must have been using some kind of amplifier to have his voice reach them so clearly, but she couldn’t tell from the tone like she could have if he’d had a megaphone.

“I have another surprise for you, Rey, and this one isn’t even of my own making,” he said as the sound of engines started to approach the next intersection. “You’d better get Skit indoors; it doesn’t look like they like black people all that much and I doubt they’ll be tolerant of a Mexican.”

Lisa gave a nod and Skit ran up to the next doorway without concern. Lisa knew he was in clear view of the doctor and that he was safe—he was part of the doctor’s entertainment. A new toy for the doctor to taunt. She suspected Web would eventually kill Skit, as well as her, but it wasn’t going to be from a long-range bullet in the head. Where was the fun in that for a sick fuck like the good Doctor Webber?

“I shouldn’t have to tell you at this stage of the game, but in case you were wondering, I simply must meet his children.”

He knew? But how had he heard us?

“Writing my name on that plaque and showing my picture to the city will make things a bit more difficult for me but, truthfully, will only add to the thrill. If I had really been all that concerned, I would have never let Ally go.

“Quiet now, here they come and don’t worry … I got your back,” Web said sarcastically before falling silent. Lisa detected movement much farther away than she expected. She walked out into the middle of the street and stood next to her new friend, Sedgwick, the massive mutt. He was a big lug, but he would fight when necessary. She had a visual picture of the beast crushing the entire head of a large zombie with his massive jaws. Not ever having been a dog person, it was refreshing to lay her hand on the back of his neck and rub while she watched the entourage appear at the end of the street.

They arrived in a mish mosh of trucks and SUVs in various states of repair. Some looked as though they were being readied for mud competitions while others looked somewhat worn out while sporting loud pipes. The only thing they had in common with each other was dust and rust; somehow, it perfected their image for survival in the new world. Flags, colors, and unrecognizable symbols placed randomly signaled that it was a group with a purpose … and that purpose didn’t look good.

The vehicles moved slowly so that several people could saunter alongside to rummage through cars and piles, turning bodies over and looking for valuables. ‘Valuable’ had taken on a completely different meaning; they took belts, boots, and anything that even resembled a weapon. The last vehicle to come from behind the buildings at the end of the street was a large, passenger-bus style van that looked as though it had been lifted from a school or rest home. Several heads could be seen in the windows but they all looked disinterested, preferring to stare blankly at the seat in front of them.

The main feature she saw was what her misguided ideals from pre-arrival had expected to see hanging on the courthouse. Confederate bars crossed their flags corner-to-corner, stopping inches from the center—but that’s where tradition ended, and hate stole its proud identity with a crudely painted swastika placed dead center.

Lisa never had a problem with the battle flag of the southern states. She felt it was a part of their culture and was about much more than simply slavery just as the Civil War itself was.

Who would have thought? It’s the fucking Ku Klux Klan.
“Are they friends of yours, boy?” Lisa asked Sedgwick while she rubbed his neck. She was turned so that it would be hard to spot her charging the M4. She brought it back on her three-point sling so that the barrel pointed directly toward the front of the group.

A blond guy approached with a swagger that said he was filled with bad intentions. He was in his early thirties, naturally thin, with sharp facial features shaped as though they were carved from an apple and dried. His face broadened into a sneering, arrogant smile and he thrust his pelvis forward as he walked, taking long strides toward her. She knew what he was trying to imply, and to the helpless, it would have inspired fear. Lisa was far from helpless.

“Far enough, Holmes,” Lisa said from behind her dark Ray Bans, her SWAT cap pulled down close to her brow. She never got the opportunity to take the final tests, but she had been through most of the training and didn’t feel guilty about wearing the cap she was issued months ago. The rest of her outfit under a tactical vest, belt, and boots was more hunter-casual.

“Holmes? What’s with that Holmes shit? I ain’t no spic! I don’t talk no jive talk; no
ob low el Spanish-e-o
, bitch.” His mockery included fabricated gang signs in an exaggerated display of pre-apocalypse street culture. He suddenly stopped, stood up straight, and looked at her defiantly.

Lisa scanned the group of vehicles. Through the windows of a guarded van, she saw several heads looking at the floor, as if they didn’t want to be involved in what was going down.

“You see, I’m a white man. White men speak properly, so get that gutter lingo out of my face!”

“Aaiiet,” she said, intentionally drawing out the slang. “Look, I don’t have too much time so, quickly, I would like to thank you for collecting all of this salvage, and if you want to pile it right here, I will call the reserves to come and pick it up,” Lisa said, trying to keep it all business.

“Are you on drugs chick-quita? This ain’t your shit. This is for the army all right … God’s army and we are here to collect.”

“Ahhh, you must not have heard my original broadcast. I see the misunderstanding. You see, everything that is in the city belongs to the city. That means it is mine. So step away from the vehicle and lay down your weapons. You will find more on your next salvage run. I figure we can meet here once, maybe twice a week, depending on how resourceful you are.”

“Well, aren’t you the little spark plug? I think I’m going to keep you as my own personal little darlin’,” the man said as two more men came up alongside him and started to level their weapons at Lisa.

Lisa saw the red dot appear on one of the men’s forehead, telling her the rifle was not military or it would be green and near invisible. She never even heard the shot like she did with the zombie in the doorway. The range must have been too great because she didn’t detect a spray out the back of the man’s head. He hardly moved from the impact; instead, he wavered for a couple of seconds before he fell face first, his brains scrambled from the ricocheting hunk of steel inside his head.

“What, do you think I came here alone? I should have him shoot your ears off for not listening.”

A splash from the side of the blond man’s head and him clutching it told her that he had just lost an ear.

How is he hearing all of this? And how can I so easily turn my back on him?
she wondered, but deep inside, she knew the reason why. To think about it or to acknowledge it would open the doors to fear and dread. She couldn’t afford fear or dread right now.

A scream mixed with the sounds of a police dog in attack mode sounded from the back of the entourage. The sharp crack of a .45 followed, and the screaming stopped.

“Now, I will tell you one more time,” she started while watching the red dot bounce on the other man next to Slim. She held up her hand, hopefully stopping Web from taking the shot. She could almost hear him giggling with glee over the fear he was putting on the Klan members. He held his shot as the big man noticed the dot on his chest and froze.

“This is it; lay your weapons down and back away from the vehicles so that I may proceed with inventory.” The large man dropped his gun instantly and put his hands up. Two others did also, but a third man decided to defy the request and started to move forward. That man died. The sound of weapons dropping came to Lisa’s ears as men and women started to back away from their booty.

Lisa made a mock show of signaling in several directions like she was telling her people to stand down, and then slowly walked up to Slim, kicking the gun out of his limp grip as Sedge squared up alongside of him.

“What’s your name, Holmes? Or do I just call you
My Little Bitch, Holmes
from here on out?”

“Craig, M—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your last name, fool. Scum like you don’t deserve a surname,” Lisa said before keying her mic.
“I need a pick up on my location, include troops and a deuce and a half.”

Craig’s shoulders visibly slumped as he fully realized that he was beaten.

“Now, let’s see what you have going on here now. Hopefully you don’t have anything illegal, like drugs or anything that might be punishable,” she mocked as she shoved the two men in front of her toward the van.

“Open the door, Craig,” she said. He leaned forward and opened the sliding door. The butt of her rifle slamming into his head forced him to the ground. Lisa then looked safely into the van.