“You good?” she asked.
He focused on the rail straight down in front of his feet. “I swear if I live through this, I’m gonna practice the balance beam until the day I die.”
“Just take it nice and slow,” Emily said gently. “And just be warned, in a few minutes I’m going to fire off a few shots.”
Glenn’s head jerked up in a panic, and he flailed his arms, nearly losing his balance.
“Easy, easy,” she said, holding out a hand. “It’s just a couple of them. I got it. You just focus on what you’re doing.”
He nodded and then fixated back on the metal at his feet.
Ernest fired off another blast of shots behind him, taking out the zombies that had managed to stagger past the hole.
As Emily got to the end of the bridge, she aimed and fired, taking out the two creatures waiting for them there. She gracefully hopped off the rail onto solid ground, turning to wait for Glenn.
He dove for the grass, landing on his knees, fisting the ground with elation.
Ernest was about three-quarters of the way across, backing slowly, pausing again to fire at the ghouls pursuing him. He stopped, the horde still easily in the several dozens. He flipped his rifle and used the butt end to smack away at some of the ties, cracking them all the way through. He did it to four in a row, creating a large hole for them to hopefully fall into.
“Come on,” Emily called.
Ernest steeled himself and moved quickly the rest of the way towards her, and then hopped down next to Glenn. He turned to see several zombies walk straight into the hole, splashing down into the water below. But there were still a lot behind them.
“We need to stay and make sure they don’t get across,” Ernest said.
Emily nodded. “Why don’t I go get the truck, and you boys do what needs to be done?”
“I can go with you, Em,” Glenn offered, raising his hand from his kneeling position.
She smirked playfully. “And listen to you whine about your knee?” She winked. “I got you.” She jogged off to get the truck as Ernest continued to fire slowly, picking off the problems ghouls as they managed to skirt the hole.
“You’re a hell of a shot with that thing, city boy,” Glenn said as he got to his feet.
Ernest chuckled and held out the rifle. “Well, if you don’t think it’ll hurt your manhood too much, you can give it a shot if you want.”
“Oh, what the hell?” Glenn said, throwing up a hand. “Let’s see how the other half lives.” He took Ernest’s prized possession, and took aim and fired, hitting a monster dead between the eyes.
As he did so, his shorter friend found a rock and plonked himself down.
“What you doing?” Glenn asked.
Ernest grinned. “Letting you have some fun.”
CHAPTER TEN
Myles sped up the driveway to the ranch, hoping they would make it in time. When they came around the bend to where the house was, he spotted Matt standing beside a white van, his hands in the air.
Mr. Eldon stood alone on the porch, aiming his shotgun at the interloper.
Myles slammed on the brakes about twenty yards away, and opened his door. “Stay in the car,” he said firmly.
Susanna shook her head. “I’m not gonna-”
“Stay in the car, please,” he hissed. “People may need to get out quick.”
She finally nodded and slid into the driver’s seat as he got out, leaving the car running.
Myles aimed his handgun at Matt, wandering forward but staying out of the crossfire from Mr. Eldon’s shotgun.
“What the hell, Matt?” Myles demanded.
Mr. Eldon raised his chin. “You know this asshole?”
“Yeah, we pulled him out of the city today,” Myles explained. “And then for some unknown reason, he went on a killing spree.”
The old man’s eyes widened. “Killing spree?” he asked. “Who’d he kill?”
“Most of the Mansfield and Johnston ranch,” Myles replied icily.
Mr. Eldon stepped down from the porch. “You let me put him down and we’ll-”
Matt waved his hand, jingling the keys on the ring around his finger. “One more step, and I open the van,” he warned.
As if on cue, a hard thunk came from the inside of the van, along with a bunch of moans and groans.
“Stand down, I got this,” Myles said, holding his hand out to Mr. Eldon. The older man took a step back, though he didn't lower his gun.
“Good to see you again,” Matt greeted, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
Myles growled. “Can’t say the sentiment is the same over here,” he replied.
“I would imagine not,” Matt said.
Myles clenched his jaw. “So I just gotta ask,” he said through his teeth, “what the fuck, man? We saved you.”
“Bullshit!” the bloodied man screamed, spittle flying everywhere. “You killed me! You all killed me and mine!”
Myles’ brow furrowed at the sudden outburst. “What are you talking about?”
“When you blocked off the city, what did you think was going to happen to those things, huh?” Matt snapped, waving his hand in the direction of Bismarck. “Did you think they’d just hang out? Well let me tell you, they didn’t. They came east. Tens of thousands of them!” His gaze darkened. “We had nowhere to go, no way to fight them. I lost everyone because of what you did.” He glanced between the men, seeming to take satisfaction from their pallid sick looks as they digested what had happened due to their actions.
“I…” Myles cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”
Matt sneered. “There’s nothing you can say,” he snapped. “Nothing is going to bring them back. Just like nothing is going to bring back your friends who went looking for my family in the city.”
“What did you do?” Myles demanded, eyes widening.
“Same thing they did to me,” Matt replied, licking his lips. “I sent a horde of zombies their way.”
Myles fired in anger, roaring as he did so, hitting his opponent several times in the chest. As Matt fell to the ground, he hit the button on the key fob, and the van beeped as the door slid open.
“Runners!” Myles screamed, and Mr. Eldon fired wildly, his eyes like saucers as the first zombie popped out. The buckshot ripped through the ghoul, but didn’t kill it. The monster ran at him while the other two went for Myles.
Mr. Eldon racked another round in and fired, this time blowing the zombie’s head into pieces just in the nick of time. The younger man shot at the other two running towards him, not having any luck hitting them in the head. When they reached within ten yards of him, he fired one more time, hitting the neck, and turned to run.
He flew down the driveway, right past the car. “Help!” he screamed at his fiancee as he passed her.
Susanna popped the muscle car into gear, doing a burnout on the driveway to chase the swift creatures. She tore after them, quickly gaining on the running dead. She honked the horn when she came within striking distance to let Myles know she was about to make her move.
She floored it, the engine roaring loudly as the car lurched forward. The front end popped off of the ground just a bit, enough to send the bumper into the waists of her enemies. As she did this, Myles dove to the side, landing in the field, just as the car plowed through the spot where he would have been.
Susanna slammed the brakes, and jumped out of the car, gun in hand. The zombies struggled to crawl around, their backs broken from the impact. She fired two quick shots, killing both of them for the second time.
She rushed over to her fiancé, who sat in the grass, breathing hard. She didn’t say anything, simply launched herself onto him, clutching his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He held her back, heart rate finally settling as the adrenaline left his body, leaving nothing but exhaustion at the day they’d had.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Later that day, Myles and Susanna sat on the front porch swing of the Ranch. Mr. E
ldon brought out a few glasses of whiskey, and handed one to each of them.
“Looks like you two earned this today,” he declared.
The young couple accepted the drinks, sipping and savoring.
“Thank you, sir,” Susanna said with a happy sigh, tipping her glass in his direction.
“No,” Mr. Eldon replied, straightening his shoulders, “thank you. If y’all hadn’t done what you did, a lot more people would have died.”
She nodded, but didn’t reply. She wasn’t ready to accept praise, given the number of innocents who had died that day. The old man patted her shoulder, and got up to go back inside.
“If you need a refill, just give a holler,” he said.
Myles offered him a smile. “Thank you,” he said.
The young couple sat in silence for a time, rocking gently and sipping their drinks. They were both thinking about their trio of friends in the city, but didn’t want to bring it up in case saying it out loud made it real.
A few minutes later, an engine came rumbling up the driveway, and they got to their feet at the sight of the truck they’d left at the plow.
“Son of a bitch,” Myles breathed. “They made it!”
Susanna downed the rest of her drink and ran down the porch steps as they pulled up. She practically tackled Emily as she got out of the truck. “We are so glad to see you!” she gushed as she squeezed her. She hugged Ernest next, and then threw her arms around Glenn.
“Whoa now girl,” the cowboy said with a laugh. “What’s gotten into you?”
Myles approached slowly, setting his glass down on the porch on the way. “Matt got into her.”
“Yeah, where is that sumbitch?” Glenn asked, holding Susanna at arm’s length. “I got a couple of boots that need plantin’ in his ass.”
“I put three rounds in his chest,” Myles said calmly.
Glenn blinked at him in shock. “Oh… well. Hot damn.” He sighed heavily. “Guess I can call it a day, then.”
“If you had to put three bullets in him,” Ernest began, “what in the hell happened out here?”
Myles shook his head as Susanna’s gaze fell. “I’ll fill you all in later,” he said, waving them off. “Just… if you’re the prayin’ type, keep the Mansfield and Johnston farm people in your thoughts.”
The trio stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating that.
“So, what happened to you?” Susanna finally asked.
Emily shook her head. “He sent us into a trap,” she said with a sigh. “If it wasn’t for our resident sharpshooter, we probably wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Just doing my part,” Ernest said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Even hillbilly here took down a few with my rifle.”
Glenn rolled her eyes. “Come on now, city boy, don’t go spreading rumors around that I enjoyed using a twenty-two,” he drawled. “I got a reputation to uphold.”
A chuckle rippled through the group, breaking the tension a little.
“I really should be getting back to the house,” Emily said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Florence is going to wonder where I am.”
Susanna nodded, reaching out and linking her arm through the older woman’s. “Come on,” she said, “I’ll give you a ride.”
Glenn nudged Ernest. “Go on, now,” he urged.
The shorter man blushed, wringing his hands, and stepped forward. “Um… Emily?” he asked, voice higher than usual.
The girls stopped and turned around.
Emily raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Would you mind if I… um… cooked you and Florence dinner this evening?” Ernest asked, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. “I mean, you’ve had a long day, well… we both have, but you could take time to spend with her while I, you know, work in the kitchen, and-”
She reached out and took his hand, silencing him. “That sounds lovely,” she assured him, and they shared a smile.
“If you want, city boy,” Glenn piped up, “you can take my car to give her a luxurious ride.”
Myles and Susanna shared a terrified look, and the latter quickly ushered Emily and Ernest away. “Yeah…” She cleared her throat. “Why don’t I give you both a ride and drop you off?” she asked.
Glenn turned to Myles as the trio moved briskly to the truck. “Wait, what’s going on?” he demanded. “What did y’all do to my car?”
“So…” the younger man drawled, putting a hand on the cowboy’s shoulder. “You know how we’re doing a run to the library tomorrow?” he asked.
Glenn’s brow furrowed. “Yeah?”
“Well,” Myles said with a little since, “we’re also going to be stopping by the junkyard too.”
The cowboy hung his head. “My car ain’t never gonna get fixed, is it?” he moaned.
Myles patted him on the back reassuringly. “One day, but fella,” he said, and led him towards the house. “One day…”
END
BOOK 9 - CAROLINA FRONT - PT 5
By: Derek Slaton
© 2020
CHAPTER ONE
Day Zero +19
“Okay Walter,” Captain Terrell said, the morning North Carolina wafting over him from the big bay window of the cleared out storefront, “you got one of those things coming up on you. He’s big, gross to look at, and smells like a wet dog that bathed in shit.” He spread his arms. “What are you going to do?”
The teenager stood across from him, and swallowed hard, tightening his hand around the six-inch knife in his fist. He stared down the hay-filled scarecrow tied to a rolling clothing rack a few yards away that Terrell moved back and forth with his foot.
“I’m gonna kill it,” Walter declared.
The older man chuckled. “I like the enthusiasm,” he said, “but I’m gonna need some specifics there. Positive thinking ain’t gonna be enough when this thing comes at you.” He straightened his muscular shoulders.
Walter raised his chin. “Don’t worry, I got a plan,” he said.
“Oh, you got a plan, do you?” Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Well, just remember what the great Mike Tyson once said. Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.” He cocked his head. “Or, in this case, everybody has a plan until a zombie latches onto them.”
The kid waved his free hand forward, bobbing back and forth from foot to foot. “I’m not gonna let you down.”
“Okay, here it comes,” Terrell said, and then kicked the base of the rolling rack.
It sailed towards Walter, and the kid prepared to strike. As it came within a hair of him, he darted to the side, extending his leg to trip it up while lashing out with his arm to knock it in the back. The contraption toppled over, crashing down with a loud clatter.
Walter lunged down without missing a beat, and stabbed the scarecrow in the back of the head. He pulled the blade out triumphantly, sending bits of hay fluttering around the air.
Terrell clapped as he sauntered over to the kid. “Well done!” he commended with a grin. “Looks like some of the things I’m showing you are sticking.”
“Yes sir, they are,” Walter replied, nodding firmly. “I’m gonna be a badass just like you in no time.”
Terrell laughed and held up a hand. “Go easy on me now, I’m old.”
“Nah, you ain’t old,” the kid said as he stood up. “My daddy wasn’t old when…” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Before all of this. And you look about his age.”
Terrell wrinkled his nose. “Now I do feel old.”
They shared a laugh and he threw an arm around Walter’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel like he was the kid brother he’d never had, and he enjoyed bonding with him even over something so grisly.
“Why don’t you get our zombie set back up, and I’ll show you another move,” Terrell said.
Walter nodded in excitement. “Okay!” As he scurried for the clothing rack scarecrow, Coleman and Miles strolled in the open door.
“Knock, knock,” Co
leman called.
Miles stepped in behind him, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “Hope we’re not interrupting,” he said gruffly.
“Nah, you’re good fellas, come on in,” Terrell said, waving them over.
The duo, the only other military members in the town, looked over the situation with the scarecrow as Walter set it back up. Coleman headed over to the contraption and inspected it with interest.
“Impressive training materials here, Cap,” he mused.
Terrell shrugged. “You know me, making do with what I got.”
Walter bounced on the balls of his feet, drawing his blade again. “Hey Mister Coleman, you wanna see what I can do?” he asked.
Coleman glanced at Terrell, who mimed giving the zombie a push.
“Sure kid,” Coleman said with a shrug, “let’s see what you got.”
He gave the rack a kick, sending it rolling towards Walter. He executed his tripping move again, giving it a perfect knife strike to the head a second time. The older men nodded in approval.
“Not bad, kid,” Coleman said as Walter picked up the scarecrow again.
Miles grinned. “You’ll be out there hunting zombies with us before you know it.”
“Oh, I’m already hunting zombies, sir,” Walter replied earnestly. “Been out a number of times. Can’t wait to go back out with y’all!”
Terrell held up a finger. “Only on easy missions,” he said. “You’re a little too young to be tackling the really dangerous stuff.”
“You training me well,” Walter insisted, “I can take on anything!” He clenched a fist.
Terrell cracked a smile. “I don’t doubt it, kid.”
“So are you gonna show me that other move you were talking about?” the teenager asked.
Coleman cleared his throat. “Afraid that’s going to have to wait,” he said.
“Something up?” Terrell furrowed his brow.
“Yeah, Xavier thinks he’s located the ammonium nitrate,” Miles replied.
Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12 Page 14