Rutger cut another lock and opened the cage to find children, younger than Liama, huddled together. They were visibly starving, as well as filthy. “Jesus,” he muttered.
As everyone emerged from their cages, Rutger and Thomas had everyone circle around near the double doors. Rutger made sure the children were near, too, though they were frightened of his mammoth size and beard.
“Okay, guys,” Thomas said, “we need to make this quick, so follow us. We have a bus waiting, and we all will fit. We don’t know when reinforcements are coming, so no stragglers. Everyone: grab a child so no one gets left behind.”
“Who’s he?” one of the children asked, pointing to Rutger.
Rutger was about to speak, but Thomas cut him off, which was probably for the best since they all seemed to trust Thomas. “This is my friend Rutger Bronson. He and a girl who’s outside guarding the bus helped us get back here. You can trust them. Do as they say! They know what we’ve been dealing with.”
One of the children still looked scared and suspicious of Rutger, but the others seemed more at ease.
“When do we get weapons?” Javier asked.
“When we’re safely on the bus. It was easier to get to you without carrying all that gear. Believe me, it’ll be needed when we’re out there.”
“Are they still out there?” another prisoner whimpered.
Thomas wasn’t familiar with this one’s name, but he remembered him: round with a small nose and sideburns that connected at the chin, like a chinstrap. Thomas remembered he hadn’t seen one of those since he worked at a ticket booth for a Limp Bizkit concert. “Probably,” he replied.
“We have to move,” Rutger said in a commanding voice.
Fiya fended off several ghouls who came near the bus, and as easy as it was, the crowd control was taking its toll on her elbow. The tendon stung like a bolt of lightning, and she gritted her teeth as it burned. She kicked the fallen undead bodies away from the bus, so when the others returned, they could easily climb aboard.
One ghoul who survived a shot to the head managed to crawl across the grass to her. It grabbed her leg, squeezed, and tried to climb her. She could smell its foul, pestilent breath as it hissed at her. She tried to jump away, but the ghoul weighed her down. Anchoring her, it bit her leg, its sharp jaws clamping tight on her leg muscles, but couldn’t tear through the Kevlar weave fabric.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” she spat as she slammed her other foot into the side of its head. Its jaws released her leg, and she kicked its head into the side of the bus, smashing in its skull.
She wiped the ghoul drool from her leg and dreaded the oncoming bite-shaped bruise that’d show up in the morning. “And they mocked my gear investment,” she said, thinking about all the times she was told she was over-doing her body protection. If she had been wearing only cotton pants, she’d probably be infected already.
She huffed a few breaths as she turned to see if any other ghouls were approaching. Two more came her way. The female ghoul she didn’t recognize, but she let out a gasp when she saw Daryl, the clerk from the Suncrest Motel, shambling toward her. His skin appeared fresh. Either he lived awfully close to Skyhill or this cult had expanded its territory.
The two were still a distance away, almost another bus-length, in fact, but Fiya wasn’t going to chance them sneaking up on her. She aggressively walked to them, shaking off the limp in her leg, and skewered the girl through the eye socket.
The width of her blade slice merged both sockets into one bloody mess. She used her bad foot to reach up and push the girl off her sword. Daryl clawed at her, and Fiya stepped back, dodging his lunge. She swung her blade, lopping off the top of his head like a coconut shell, only messier.
Though other ghouls herded in the schoolyard, coming from other parts of the school and others climbing the fence from hiding in the woods—they were far enough away that she felt comfortable returning to the bus. She breathed heavily, exhausted from all the extra swinging. She’d never dealt with so many ghouls at once. The most she recalled were in clusters of three to five. The numbers rarely got beyond that because all previous Ghoul Fever outbreaks had been contained quickly.
She narrowed her eyes at the lumbering ghouls in the distance. Their slow movement implied they’d been ghouls for more than several days.
The exterior double doors that Rutger and Thomas first entered burst open, catching her attention. Thomas led the way, and following right behind him were many malnourished, pale, and weak people. Rutger shielded the rear.
Thousands of feet in the air, somewhere over Oregon, Violess’s private plane continued north. She sat in a large, cushioned seat, studying an aged parchment document. A large box, about the size of a keg of beer, sat on the cushion next to her. In the box was the dried husk of a massive heart, pried out from the floor of the chapel in Riverside—after being hidden away for centuries.
Her elite ghouls also were aboard the plane, sitting as quiet as mannequins until they were given instructions.
Violess was pleased with herself at how easily they mowed through security and hero tourists on their way back to the airport. Authorities had become so focused on another Ghoul Fever outbreak that they didn’t follow her vehicle. She couldn’t wait to land to see how the media was handling the situation now. She hadn’t had enough time to stay in Southern California to enjoy the bloodshed she’d caused. For a moment, she was glad the heart wasn’t in Texas, where everyone and their grandma were packing heat.
Her phone buzzed. She looked down at it on the arm of her seat and saw it was a message from Marco. She unlocked her phone to read it:
“MARCO SENT: WE HAVE A BREAK-IN. CATTLE ESCAPING WITH HELP AS EXPECTED. ETA?”
Violess glanced up and called out to the pilot, less than 10 feet away with the cockpit door wide open. “Raul, how long before we land?”
Raul was another demon hitching a ride in a ghoul suit, much like the limo driver. He glanced over his shoulder at Violess and said, “About 45 minutes, maybe an hour.” Raul occupied the most WASP body he could find to blend among pilots: Neat and trim haircut, close shave, caucasian with dark hair, a perfect-square jawline. An easy pass for a pilot, mainly if they stayed away from major airports, keeping it to the smaller terminals.
Violess shut her eyes, trying to connect to any of the ghouls with her taint, and immediately hacked in. The view was low to the grass, and she forced its eyes to look around. She saw that its lower half had been crushed, flattened into the earth. Then she observed a school bus in the distance, with the hunter she had been warned about guarding it. “Seems like a lot’s gone on since I last checked in,” she said, ejecting herself from the hapless ghoul.
With a sigh, she typed her reply to Marco.
“V SENT: DO WHAT YOU CAN TO SLOW THEM DOWN, BUT DO NOT KILL. I WANT THEM ALL ALIVE NOW.”
Marco crouched on the roof of Timberwild Elementary and read his boss’s text. He wore coveralls like to Violess’s ghoul crew; he also wore a tactical vest with belts and ammo magazines attached. Next to him was a Browning X-Bolt Long-Range rifle, with a matte blue 26-inch fluted barrel, complete with scope and silencer. It could cluster shots within the size of a dime at 100 yards, if one were so proficient, which fit his skill set.
He used the scope to zero in on Fiya, the one who specifically had been called out since the wolves got involved.
Fiya ushered their prisoners onto the bus while keeping an eye out on their surroundings, making sure the ghouls didn’t get into the attack range. However, she didn’t pay attention to movement on the rooftop; otherwise, she would have seen him by now. Sure, he kept himself low and mostly out of sight, but the late afternoon light still could have given him away.
The matte surface of the rifle reflected no light as he aimed, working in his favor to remain hidden.
With the way the wolves had talked her up, he expected super-hearing or vision by now, but this appeared much easier than he thought. His opinion of Kael’s pack lowered.
One ghoul managed to almost sneak up on her, crawling from underneath the bus, but she hammered in its head with the hilt of her sword.
“Slow them down …” Marco whispered to himself as he gently squeezed the trigger.
THWIP!
In the crosshairs, he watched Fiya’s leg burst in a cloud of red, and he smiled. “That should do it.”
“FUUUCKSHIT!” The shot stung like a thousand bees at once. Fiya tumbled to the grass, knees first, and crumbled on her side. She clutched her leg, her hands shaking, and saw both an entrance and an exit wound. The entrance was about the size of a penny, while the exit wound grew to the size of a quarter. Blood pumped and squirted from her calf. Her voice became hoarse and ragged as she refrained from crying out loud. The Kevlar weave only protected so much, intended for the rending and slashing of teeth and claws, not high-powered bullets.
As she rolled on her back, she realized the shooter had to be close by and scanned the windows of the school.
Rutger had been helping the others climb aboard when he saw her go down. He heard a pop through the air and wasn’t sure if he just imagined it in all the commotion; it was Fiya’s cursing cry that snagged his attention.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he scrambled over to her. He got down on his knees to help her, examining her leg, and applying pressure to the wound. Then he helped her up. Using her sword as a crutch, and then she leaned against the bus. “Did you see it?”
Fiya wobbled, and the wounded leg felt like trying to stand on a wet noodle. She repeated the word “fuck” with stuttering stammers.
Inside the bus, the others witnessed Fiya take the gunshot to the calf, and many broke into a panic. Some cried hysterically, claiming they’d never get out of there.
When Thomas saw Fiya drop, his first instinct was to run to her, but as he saw Rutger dive for her, he turned his attention to the opposite direction, where the bullet must’ve come from. He scanned the rooftops and caught a silhouette move. No, not just moving, but reloading. “Oh, crap.”
Thomas pushed himself to the window with the best visibility to see the shooter and pointed his shotgun through it. He didn’t have too much time to aim as well as he’d like, so he pulled the trigger before the silhouette could begin looking through the scope. The shotgun cracked thunder, rattling the windows on that side of the bus, and the silhouette fell backward, his hand clutching his face. A rifle dropped from the roof and landed in the bushes below. Thomas felt if he didn’t kill the bastard, at least he disarmed him and smiled in relief.
He jumped as Javier patted him on the back.
“Jeez” Thomas said.
“Sorry. Sweet shot, dude.”
“Yeah, but she still got hurt.” Thomas turned to see Rutger helping Fiya on board. She still clutched her leg, putting as much pressure as she possibly could on the wounds, leaving a trail of blood behind them. He helped her to the same seat where the Blackhawk revolver rested in its holster and set it aside to make room as she tried to get comfortable.
She lifted up her mask to breathe better, leaving it on top of her head, and the hood fell to her shoulders.
“Hang tight,” he said to her, “I’m not going to drive friendly.”
“You better not.”
Rutger laughed and then ran to the driver seat, cranking the door closed just as a couple ghouls reached the bus.
Thomas filled Rutger’s place at Fiya’s side and tore off the bottom of his shirt. He tied it around her wound as tightly as he could, but it kept giving slack.
“Was that the elastic part of your shirt?” Fiya asked.
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Go to the others, I’ve got it.”
“Sure?”
“Yep. Thanks.”
“No, thank you.”
“Get.”
Thomas gave her a concerned look and went to check on the others as she ordered, while Fiya slid off her backpack and grabbed her handkerchief, the one that wrapped the silver bullets. She carefully set the silver bullets into her side satchel and tied the handkerchief around her leg, tight. It still hurt like a raging motherfucker, but she did feel a sense of calm. She wasn’t sure if it was shock setting in, but for her first gunshot wound, she wasn’t sure how she should react.
If monsters were going to start using guns like this, she knew she was going to have to invest in more protection. Or shoot back.
Javier watched her, standing just behind the seat where she lay. She noticed him but didn’t lock with his gaze. He watched her check the tightness of the cloth around her wound.
“Hey, Javier,” Thomas called from the front as Rutger got the bus into gear. Javier turned his attention from Fiya’s bloody leg. Thomas approached him and handed him a shotgun. “Here.”
Javier proudly took it, checked its sights, and nodded at Thomas.
“Any of those assholes come near the bus, blast ‘em. Aim for the heads.”
“The heads?”
“Yeah, it’s the best way to kill them.”
“I knew it! I fuckin’ knew it! Zombie apocalypse, baby!” Javier cocked the shotgun and raced to one of the rear windows. He opened it and pointed the shotgun outside, firing at one of the ghouls struggling to keep up with the bus.
Thomas proceeded to hand shotguns and rifles to anyone willing, or even capable, to use one. He gave them all the same tips while Fiya listened. She was impressed with how well he seemed to be taking charge. This was the first real sign of optimism in his face that she’s seen since she first met him.
As the engine growled, Rutger kept checking the side mirrors, concerned with more townie ghouls coming near. He didn’t hesitate to steer the bus from side to side to smack them into the grass or grind them into the dirt with the tires. He shifted gears and had the bus going at a solid speed now.
Shots rang out from the bus as some of the prisoners took aim at the oncoming ghouls.
Fiya gripped her sword, continuing to use it as a crutch as she sat straight up in the seat, gently letting down her wounded leg. She sighed and glanced at the revolver in the holster. Her eyes locked on it for a moment, knowing it was meant for her. Now, in her shape, she knew she needed to get over her hang-ups and use it. With her leg blown out the way it was, she was not confident at all in her up-close fighting skills, at least, not with a crowd.
She touched the revolver, tensing at the touch of the cold metal, and then grabbed the holster to stash it in her backpack for now. The backpack returned to her back as she turned to lower the window near her. She could see that they were nearing the fence and the gate, so she knew they were almost finished.
Rutger ground his teeth at the wheel. The gate was in sight, and most of the remaining ghouls were left far behind; however, it wasn’t a clear path.
Something dark sat at the gate, huge and black. As the bus got closer, it hunkered like a gorilla, and then stood. Its pointed ears twitched backward and glared with its profane green eyes. Rutger recognized it as the alpha wolf Kael, and as he pressed harder on the gas, he noticed something in one of Kael’s arms, and gasped, “Oh, no …!”
Thomas noticed the increase in speed and turned to look at where they were driving. The bus bounced on the grassy hill before it would hit pavement again. A ghoul that had been shot earlier doubled as a speed bump, causing the bus to bounce again.
Javier wandered up to the front and saw the huge beast. “What the hell is that?”
Then Thomas saw Kael, standing just before the driveway at the gate, and he noticed Rutger aiming for him. Kael reached behind his back, revealing something in one of his arms that brought Thomas to a rage. Cradled in his arm was the limp body of Liama, and he appeared to be presenting her on purpose to get their attention.
“You bastards!!” Thomas cried, gritting his teeth. He only saw red now, and he wanted to shove the shotgun up where Kael would find it most uncomfortable and unload every shell.
Rutger swerved the bus, changing his plans of mowing down Kael do
wn, but the bus’s speed moved too fast for the sharp turn, and it immediately rolled. The bus spun around the passengers like socks in a dyer, and they desperately clung to their seats to keep from flying around inside it.
Like an experienced bullfighter, Kael sidestepped with Liama in his arms, keeping her from harm, and watched the bus tumble and roll across the driveway.
Fiya had fallen onto the floor and got caught in the centrifugal force. It continued to roll, hitting the grass on the other side of the driveway and slid downhill.
Everyone inside bounced and tumbled, except Rutger, who sat in the only seat with a seatbelt. Then the seatbelt snapped loose, and Rutger’s face smashed into the windshield.
Thomas ducked in between seats, curling into a ball. The bus plowed through the fence and finally came to a stop, upside down. Windows shattered upon impact.
Those who hadn’t held onto their seats as well were thrown through the windows. They lay scattered in the grass, barely moving.
After about a minute, Kael stood up and slung Liama’s unconscious body over his shoulder. He lurched his way over to the bus, never taking his eyes off it. He didn’t expect a crash─that went against plan─he only expected them to stop, and he could reclaim everyone. Now he needed to make sure they were still alive for Violess’s plan.
Smoke and dust took time to dissipate as the passengers of the bus struggled to stir. There were groans and some heavy panting, but most had been struck unconscious, due more to their malnourishment for days than the crash itself. Rutger’s smashed face rested against the broken windshield, and he remained still. A single line of blood dribbled down the contour of his face and into his beard.
Graveslinger Page 16