Dead America The Third Week (Book 8): Dead America, Bismarck Pt. 2

by Slaton, Derek

  The cowboy approached the end of the mass, grabbing the last zombie in front of him by the throat, a young petite girl missing a chunk of flesh from her once-pretty face. He drove it back before turning and whipping it back towards the horde to trip some of their pursuers up.

  Ernest unloaded several more shots, expanding the hole to maybe ten feet wide, several zombies flopping about on the ground. He aimed at one more creature, but the trigger gave nothing but a dead click.

  “Damn,” he muttered, and then took off running. He kept a white-knuckle grip on his rifle as he approached the front edge of the path, leaping over a downed zombie that struggled to get back to its feet to eat.

  The creatures around him turned towards his huffing frame as he landed, and he had to weave back and forth to avoid their outstretched hands. He darted to the left and ducked a zombie closing the gap, scrambling back the other way.

  As he made it halfway down the path he’d made, the walls began to close in. He pumped his legs as hard as he could, trying to beat it out, but it didn’t look good. Rotted fingertips brushed his body on the way by, they were getting too thick.

  Gunfire erupted in front of him, and then bodies began to drop to the left and right. A zombie jumped into his path and he dropped into a slide, as if he were stealing second base, to get underneath the clumsy ghoul. He popped back up on the other side and staggered forward, falling directly onto his face at Emily’s feet.

  Glenn grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him back up to a standing. “Come on, city boy, no time to rest,” he said, patting him as he steadied himself.

  The trio rushed into the neighborhood, trying to leave the horde behind, and cut through a yard to get to the next street. The enraged mass of death pursued them with moaning vigor.

  They cleared the first row of houses, stopping for a moment on the empty road.

  “Road or houses?” Emily demanded.

  Ernest motioned vaguely ahead, still trying to catch his breath. “Let’s…” he huffed. “Let’s keep going straight until we have a reason not to,” he suggested.

  “The yards will trip them suckers up more than the road will,” Glenn added.

  Emily nodded and led the trio running through the closest back yard. A few yards later, there was a chest-high chain link fence, and they hopped over it, stopping to take a quick breather since they had a barrier to protect them.

  “How much further up is the golf course?” Ernest asked.

  Emily cocked her head. “Three, maybe four blocks?” she replied.

  “Good, let’s keep pushing until we get there,” Ernest said.

  Glenn raised a hand. “Then can we take a break?” he asked. “At least until I can feel my legs again.”

  The shorter man cracked a smile, patting him on the back. “And then when we get back tonight, we’ll drink until we can’t feel them again.”

  Glenn raised a triumphant fist. “Em, just so you know,” he said, pointing a finger at his friend, “this man’s a keeper.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Myles and Susanna sped towards the Johnston farm, only a few miles away and perilously close to the Prime Dude Ranch that Myles called home along with dozens of others. As they raced down the road, Susanna spotted the turnoff, barely noticeable given the barren landscape.

  “Here it is, here it is!” she cried.

  Myles slammed on the brakes, jerking the wheel hard to the right, sending the muscle car into a skid. As soon as he was lined up with the driveway, he punched it, the tires squealing before they grabbed asphalt and then fishtailing a bit as they went from pavement to dirt.

  He hit the brakes again about fifteen yards from the house, and the couple studied it with wide eyes. The front door was open, and one of the front windows was completely shattered. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

  “With fourteen people living here, someone should be around,” Susanna said quietly.

  Myles swallowed hard. “Should I honk the horn?” he asked.

  She pulled out her handgun, checking to make sure there was a round in the chamber. “Do it,” she said.

  He laid on the horn, and within moments two corpses rushed out of the house, standing on the front porch, rheumy eyes looking around frantically.

  “Oh god,” Susanna moaned at the sight of the two dead men with fresh gaping slits in their throats.

  The new zombies sprinted towards the car, splitting apart, one attacking each side of the vehicle. They smashed against it, teeth gnashing against the glass in an attempt to get at the tasty treats inside.

  “How do we do this?” Myles asked, heart pounding at the sight of the fast zombies.

  Susanna took a deep breath. “I’m going to shoot mine in the head through the glass,” she informed him. “I’d recommend you do the same.” She aimed, but before she could pull the trigger, her fiancé grabbed her arm.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?” she demanded.

  Myles readied his gun and aimed at the passenger window, into the face of the thrashing creature.

  “What are you doing?” Susanna asked.

  “If you miss, he’s going to be on top of you quick,” Myles explained. “Just want to make sure you have a backup.”

  She nodded, thankful for her other half balancing out her hot temper. She leaned back in her seat to protect herself should the bullet miss, and to be out of the way of Myles’ gun.

  “Get ready,” she said, and aimed carefully. She tracked the erratic movement of the ghoul, and when she managed to get into its rhythm, she pulled the trigger.

  The bullet shattered the glass, altering the trajectory slightly, hitting the zombie in the chin and ripping off it’s lower jaw. It didn’t stop, lunging for the window, and Myles quickly pulled the trigger, catching it between the eyes and sending it flopping back onto the ground.

  Susanna breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, babe,” she gasped.

  “Anytime,” he replied with a nod. The zombie on his side continued to smack away, unconcerned with the opening on the other side. The fresh ghouls were faster, but at least they weren’t any smarter.

  Susanna slid over to the window and gripped the frame, ready to slip up into it. “When I tell you to, I want you to kick open your door,” she said.

  “What?!” Myles cried.

  “It’s going to be easier to shoot that thing from the window than it is through a window,” she explained.

  He pursed his lips and then nodded. “All right.” He wrapped his hand around the door handle, preparing to thrust it open.

  Susanna got into position, her feet on the seat, gun in hand. “Do it,” she said.

  Myles waited for the creature to lunge for the door, and then kicked it open as hard as he could. The force of the impact sent the zombie staggering back, and Susanna popped out of the window, aiming quickly.

  “Up here!” she cried, and as soon as the ghoul looked up at the noise, she fired, hitting it in the forehead.

  She slithered back into her seat and Myles slammed his door, and the two of them breathed a quick sigh of relief.

  “Could be twelve more of those things here,” he finally said.

  Susanna rubbed her forehead. “We really need more people for this,” she said.

  “No time,” Myles replied, shaking his head. “If these things get loose, it could be really bad.”

  All of a sudden, there was a lone gunshot from inside the house.

  “Did you hear that?” Susanna asked, head snapping up.

  Her fiance nodded. “Yep.”

  They double checked their weapons, and then got out of the car.

  “Let’s go get ‘em,” Susanna declared, forcing her voice to stay steady.

  The couple walked cautiously up to the house, guns raised as they surveyed the area. As they got close to the house, they stepped up onto the front wooden steps, the wood giving a little creak as they moved.

  Myles stepped up to the door first, peeking down th
e long hallway that led to the kitchen. As he stepped through the threshold, a figure emerged from the kitchen, jerky and staggering.

  “Got one,” he murmured.

  Susanna stared at him. “Well shoot it,” she hissed.

  He shook his head, knowing it would be too difficult to be precise in the darkened hallway, and not wanting to make noise unless it was a kill shot. He motioned for her to step to the side, and she took position up against the wall. He pressed his back against his side, and then gently knocked on the doorframe.

  The creature immediately screamed, a gargling, horrific sound, and ran towards the door. At the last second, Myles stuck out his leg to trip the ghoul and it fell face-first down the steps, a floral-print dress billowing behind it. He immediately fired into the back of its head, and then whipped around to face the door.

  Two zombies ran for them, but hit the door frame at the same time, getting tangled up in each other as they fought to get past each other to the fresh meat. Susanna shot one, and began backing away, the second shot missing in her backpedaling.

  The creature leapt at her, sending them both tumbling to the porch. She pushed up against its throat, struggling to keep its snarling maw away from her face. Myles grabbed the back of the zombie’s shirt, pulling it back, thrashing and biting the air still trying to get at her.

  This left Susanna just enough space to fire point blank into the ghoul’s face. Blood and brains splattered across the porch, narrowly missing her fiancé’s face. He ignored it and threw the body aside, reaching down to help her up.

  “Are you okay?” Myles asked.

  Susanna nodded, a little dazed, and then looked down at the zombie in the flower dress. “Oh god, that’s Ann,” she moaned.

  “Christ, is Matt driving zombies around now?” Myles asked.

  There was another muffled gunshot from inside the house, and they looked at each other, then up at the second floor. They rushed inside and began climbing the staircase, guns at the ready. When they got halfway up, Susanna spun around to cover the rear, just in case there were any more on the main floor. As they moved, they could hear moaning and banging on a back bedroom door. A large skylight in the hallway provided some light to the area.

  Myles got most of the way up and peered through the railing, seeing three zombies pressed up against a door, with one dead one on the ground. Little rays of light poured through the door, as if someone had shot through it.

  The couple reached the top landing, remaining silent. Myles mimed whistling to Susanna, and she nodded, putting her fingers in her mouth and letting it rip.

  The sound reverberated through the closed-off upper hallway, drawing the attention of the three creatures instantly. They immediately broke from the door and tore towards them.

  Susanna fired once, hitting the lead one in the face. The other two pushed through it, not tripping up, and Myles lowered his shoulder, smacking into the next one and shoving both of them into the banister.

  The wood gave way, and both creatures tumbled down to the main floor, bones and wood cracking simultaneously. The young couple immediately aimed down, firing several rounds into the corpses as they struggled to get to their feet.

  “Hello?” somebody called as the firing stopped.

  “Hello,” Myles called back, immediately turning to the bedroom. “You’re safe. We’re going to come in now.”

  “Hang on,” the woman replied, and then there was the click of a lock and then she slowly opened the door.

  “Kim!” Susanna gushed, rushing towards the open door.

  The middle-aged woman stepped aside, revealing three other people huddled in the corner of the room. “What in the hell is going on?” Kim asked.

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” Susanna replied.

  “Hell if I know?” the older woman cried, throwing up her hands. “We was just sittin’ here enjoyin’ the day when somebody pulled up in a van. They honked a couple of times and drew some people over. We thought it was just somebody from the Ranch. Next thing we know, the sliding door opened, and out came a zombie. I scrambled to get as many people locked up as we could, but there were so many of them things runnin’ around within minutes.”

  Myles furrowed his brow. “Are you four the only survivors?”

  “As far as I know,” Kim replied, swallowing hard. “Unless you saw somebody downstairs.”

  Susanna did a mental count of corpses, and shook her head. “There’s three more of those things out there.”

  “Well shut the damn door, then!” Kim demanded.

  “Miss Kim?” young Georgina asked from the corner. Everyone turned to her, and she blushed crimson, mouth opening and closing as if she didn’t know what to say.

  “What is it?” Kim prompted.

  She cleared her throat. “I… I saw the man in the van before you came and got me,” she said.

  “What did he do, honey?” Susanna asked.

  The young girl’s eyes widened. “He… he pulled some of the bitten people into the van,” she said, and the adults exchanged a worried look.

  “He’s going for the Ranch,” Myles said quietly.

  Kim shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just…” Susanna took a deep breath. “You stay locked up here,” she finally said. “Somebody will be coming for you real soon.”

  Kim jutted out her chin. “But…”

  “Kim!” Susanna snapped. “Stay locked up until we come back.”

  The older woman nodded jerkily. “Nobody’s getting in here until you come back.”

  Susanna nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to Myles, and they readied their guns, thundering down the stairs to the car.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Emily, Glenn, and Ernest took refuge in a golf course outdoor dining area, staying out of sight. Emily looked out through an opening in the fence, seeing several dozen zombies wandering aimlessly around the course, none of which were particularly close.

  “Whenever you guys are ready, it looks safe to move,” she murmured.

  Glenn put up a hand, massaging his leg with the other. “I just need another minute,” he admitted quietly. “Wrenched my knee pretty good bustin’ through them.”

  “Suck it up hillbilly,” Ernest joked as he reloaded his rifle. “We’re almost home. You can numb your pain with bourbon when we get back.”

  The cowboy sneered. “What, city boy, you don’t want to kiss it and make it better?”

  “In your dreams,” Ernest replied with a grin.

  Emily continued to scan the area, and then focused on a golf cart. “What if we hitch a ride?”

  “There a car nearby that you have the keys for?” Glenn asked.

  She shook her head. “Car? No,” she said. “Golf cart, however.”

  The men slid over to her position, looking out and seeing the large four-person golf car sitting by a tree forty yards away.

  “That’s a great idea,” Glenn drawled, “but I’d be surprised if it still had any charge left on it.”

  Emily shook her head. “Doesn’t need a charge,” she explained. “Cold weather climates like this, a lot of courses go with gas carts. Saves on battery replacements.”

  “Definitely worth a shot,” Ernest agreed. “If for no other reason than it will keep his whining to a minimum.”

  Glenn opened his mouth, but then closed it again when he realized he didn’t have an argument.

  “Cover me?” Emily asked, nodding to Ernest.

  He smiled and held up his weapon. “Let’s go get it.”

  They popped out of the dining area, jogging towards the cart. Ernest kept his gun at the ready as they approached it, just in case something jumped out at them from behind the trees. One of the zombies in the distance, about fifty yards away, turned towards the movement and shambled in their direction. Ernest kept a close eye on it as Emily hopped into the driver’s seat.

  She flipped a few switches and then hit the starter. It rumbled for a few seconds, and then finally turned ov
er.

  “We’re in business!” she exclaimed.

  Ernest got into the passenger’s side and she drove them back to the eating area. Glenn hobbled out and dove into the backseat.

  “Drive on, girl,” he declared.

  She hit the gas, and they took off over the golf course. With the zombies so spread out, it was a leisurely drive, with no corpse coming within even twenty yards of them.

  “We’ll have to remember this in the springtime,” Ernest declared. “This could be a nice little Sunday drive.”

  Glenn chuckled. “Yeah, just wouldn’t recommend the picnic,” he added. “Those critters are a bit more intrusive than ants.”

  They reached the main road that led up to the interstate. There were a few zombies milling about, but they were easy enough for Emily to swerve around. When they reached the highway, things looked a little more difficult. A few dozen creatures staggered about on the far side of the bridge.

  “Looks like they’re on the westbound lane,” Emily said.

  Ernest motioned with his gun. “Hang a right here, it’ll take us on the other side,” he suggested. He checked his ammo. “But if not, I’m ready.”

  Emily nodded and took the turn, heading up the wrong side of the exit ramp in a circle, getting to the top and onto the freeway. They drove onto it, no more than half a mile away from the bridge. The immediate vicinity was clear on their side, but their buzzing presence attracted the zombies on the other side, pressing against the median barrier.

  After another quarter mile, Emily hit the brakes. “That’s disheartening,” she said dryly.

  There were a hundred or so zombies on their side of the road, a veritable ton pressed up against the plow. Some of them in the back broke away and headed towards them.

  “No way we’re getting through that,” Glenn said from the backseat.

  Emily took a deep breath. “So now what?”

  “Is there enough fuel to make it to the Main Street bridge?” Ernest asked.

  She tapped the gauge, but it was nearly on empty. “Not unless we’re hiking most of the way.”

  “Well it’s a better option than this!” Glenn declared.