Z-Burbia Box Set | Books 4-6 [The Road Trip Trilogy]

by Bible, Jake

  “No ideas!” Poof-Poof yelled.

  Bitsy, Poof-Poof, and Duffy pulled key remotes from their pockets. At least, I assume they were in their pockets, although, considering how tight some the clothes they wore were, I had to wonder if they didn’t pull them from someplace more intimate. They each pressed a button and the trunks on the first three cars popped open.

  “Get in,” Bitsy said. “We don’t have all day. Got a herd coming through in about fifteen minutes.”

  “No way,” Elsbeth said. “Not getting in there. No, no, no.”

  “You climb in, pretty thing, or I shoot your people,” Bitsy warned. “Starting with the young bippy twat here.”

  “Me?” Greta asked. “Did you call me a bippy twat?”

  “If the insult fits,” Bisty said. “One day, you’ll grow up to be a real woman like me, but you may not make it to that day if your friend with the crazy eyes doesn’t chill, chill, chill.”

  “Crazy eyes?” Elsbeth frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  “You aren’t all there in the head, are you?” Bitsy asked Elsbeth.

  “Says the circus stripper,” I respond. “Listen, Bitsy, you don’t need to do this. Just let us go. We’ll be out of the city and out of your hair by sunset. We never wanted to stop in Knoxville, but things got in the way.”

  “Hey, Mr. President,” Bitsy said. “You think I care? Not my fault you took a wrong turn. Not my fault your friends got all blown to shit. Not my fault the Orangies didn’t want y’all to come to our kegger. Not. My. Fault.”

  “Not her fault!” Poof-Poof yelled then spat a huge, yellow loogie on the ground. “Not! Her! Fault!”

  “So, ladies? Get in the fucking trunks, will ya? I don’t have all day,” Bitsy ordered. “And you have until the count of five or I slice the nuts off your boys.”

  “Fine,” Stella growled.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It took all of my willpower to keep from freaking out and going after the twisted Sisters. When I opened my eyes again, Stella was being shoved into the trunk of Bitsy’s car, Greta was shoved into Poof-Poof’s and Elsbeth was just standing by Duffy’s while their packs and weapons were tossed into the backseats of their respective vehicles.

  “El,” I said. “Get in. We’ll be okay. We’ll figure out how to get out of this.”

  “No, you won’t,” Bitsy said, “but that’s sweet of you to say.”

  “Don’t want to get in the trunk,” Elsbeth stated.

  “Tough titty said the kitty when the milk ran dry,” Bitsy cackled. “Get in the fucking trunk!”

  “You die first,” Elsbeth said as we watched the trunk lids get shut on Stella and then Greta. “Do you hear me, ugly boots? You die first.”

  “Probably,” Bitsy said. “I have heart problems.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Elsbeth snapped.

  “I know,” Bitsy said, “but I don’t care. I’ve had more crazy bitches than you can count try to step to me and take the Village over. Not one could do it. You look like you can handle yourself, but so can I. No fear.”

  “No brains,” Elsbeth said as she got into the trunk. She looked over at me and I nodded. “See you soon, Long Pork?”

  “See you soon, El,” I nodded back.

  “Long Pork?” Bitsy laughed. “I knew you were in a frat. Only a frat would give someone a shitty nickname like that.” She got into her car and looked over her shoulder at the one woman that hadn’t said anything yet. “Marge? Stay here with Long Pork and the boy. Once the herd shows, move your fine ass back to the Village.”

  “You’re gonna let us die?” Charlie snapped.

  “I’m going to let you live,” Bitsy said as she revved her engine. “Whether you get away from the zombies and stay alive is your problem, not mine. Toodles!”

  She sped off down the street, followed by Poof-Poof, Duffy, and Sleenie. Marge just stood there, her AK-47 pointed right at my crotch. She was the tallest of the five women, with long black hair that was obviously a wig, dark skin, and eyes that were blacker than her faux hair. Dressed in a miniskirt that was one twitch from showing Charlie and me everything, Marge had legs that probably would pop my head off with just a squeeze. Her belly wasn’t soft at all and her arms were tight.

  The woman may have been in her late fifties, but she worked out, that was for sure.

  “So...lived in Knoxville long?” I asked.

  “All my life,” Marge replied, her voice surprisingly high for a woman her size. I was also surprised by the fact she spoke, having not said a single syllable the whole time Bitsy and the others were there. “Where you from?”

  “Asheville,” I said. Her eyes went wide. “Something wrong?”

  “We heard Asheville was gone,” Marge said. “Nuked.”

  “Well, yes and no,” I replied. “It sorta burned to the ground at the same time a dirty bomb went off. So, no nuke, but yes gone and filled with radiation.”

  “Bummer,” she said. “I liked Asheville when we went there as kids.”

  “Why are you with those crazy women?” Charlie asked. “You don’t seem half as crazy as they do?”

  “Jesus, dude,” I sighed.

  Marge clammed up and glared at my son.

  “He’s young,” I said. “He forgets to check his mouth sometimes.”

  “Like most men,” Marge said.

  “But he has a point,” I continued. “You were all quiet before, but we started having a nice conversation as soon as Bitsy and the gang took off. It may have been small talk, but post-Z, even small talk can be a relief. You know what I mean?”

  “They aren’t crazy,” Marge said. “We all have our ways of coping and dealing with traumatic events. The Sisters at Sorority Village have saved a lot of lives over the years, and Bitsy is why.”

  “Cool, cool, I get that,” I said. “No offense meant. I was just wondering why you didn’t say anything until they left.”

  Marge glared at me then her eyes softened slightly.

  “It’s my voice,” she replied. “Poof-Poof makes fun of my voice because it’s so high and I’m so tall. I hate that.”

  “Then tell her to stop,” I said. “Be upfront and direct with her. I’m sure if you explained it in the right way, she’d understand.”

  “Are you two fucking kidding me?” Charlie asked as he looked from Marge to me, and back. “Is this fucking conversation even happening? Dad! We have to go get Mom and Greta and Elsbeth!”

  Marge sighed. “The young are hotheaded. Probably best if I just shoot you two so I can get back in time for cocktail hour.”

  “Whoa whoa whoa!” I shouted. “No shooting! You can totally bail for cocktail hour without the shooting!”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Marge responded. “I’m gonna shoot you two. I don’t want to wait around for the herd to show up. That could take forever. I shoot you and the smell of blood will bring them around in just a few minutes. Besides, it’s margarita night tonight. I love margaritas. We found some limes...”

  The sound of rapid gunfire a few blocks away distracted us and Marge turned her head towards the sound. Charlie used the distraction and rushed Marge before I could stop him. He tackled the tall woman and I quickly got a glimpse of something I didn’t need to see as Marge’s legs went out from under her and she slammed down onto the pavement.

  For the record, I’m not a fan of going commando in the apocalypse. Wear underwear, people. The world is scary enough.

  “Charlie! No!” I yelled as I leapt forward.

  A single gunshot turned my blood cold and it was my turn to fall to the pavement as my feet went out from under me. I was frozen in place, terrified, as I stared at the still forms of Marge and my son.

  “Charlie...?” I whispered.

  “I’m good,” he grunted as he shoved off Marge’s body, “but she’s not.”

  He stood up and offered me a hand. I grabbed it and he hauled me to my feet. We both turned and looked down at the dying woman. Blood was tricklin
g from her mouth and nostrils and she tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Her chest was a mess from where her own rifle shot her. We could hear the sucking of air as her lungs filled with blood.

  We could also hear the groans and moans of approaching Zs.

  “Who do you think was shooting?” Charlie asked as he peered off into the distance. “You think that’s our people?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “and right now, I don’t care. We need to go get our family back.” I glanced at Marge’s bright blue Toyota Celica. “I’ll drive.”

  Except that was a bit of a problem, as I quickly learned when I sat down in the driver’s seat.

  “Fuck,” I snapped. “It’s a stick.”

  “Sucks to have one arm,” Charlie smiled. “Get out and I’ll drive.”

  “Your mom would kill me if I let you drive with your chest wound,” I said.

  “I’m fine, Dad,” he said. “And I don’t think she’ll care too much since I’m doing it so we can go rescue her.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but if she does get mad you can say I was knocked out or something and had no idea it was happening.”

  “You are so pussy whipped,” Charlie laughed.

  “Yeah, well, one day you’ll find out that’s not such a bad thing, trust me,” I replied as I got out and switched seats with him. “Now...which way is Sorority Village, do you think?”

  “Not a clue,” Charlie said as he revved the engine and let the clutch out. The car’s tires squealed and we shot forward down the street. “But it’s gonna be fun getting there!”

  At least I had one arm to brace myself with.

  “Slow down!” I yelled before we got to the corner.

  “I can totally drive this, Dad!” Charlie yelled back. “Look at these roads! When else will I get a chance to drive on a normal road?”

  “No!” I shouted. “I don’t care how you drive! Wait! Not true! I do care! I just want you to slow down!”

  Charlie let off the gas and looked over at me.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  I hooked my thumb over my shoulder.

  “I think we should bring some friends to this sorority party, don’t you?”

  Charlie glanced in the rearview mirror then looked over his shoulder at the herd of Zs that had just started to show itself.

  “Brilliant,” he smiled.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Now rev that engine real loud. Get them all riled up so they get a move on.”

  SURROUNDED BY FREEWAYS on three sides with a main road and river in the front, Sorority Village was actually a very defensible setup. Especially since they had built a huge wall and gate made of every sturdy material, you could think of.

  “Nice,” Charlie said as we stopped a block or so back from the gate. “That looks like something you would design.”

  “My designing days are over,” I replied. “Everything I create just gets torn down, blown up, or set on fire anyway.”

  “Whiner,” Charlie said then he nodded towards the gate. “Looks like we have company.”

  Two women, both with AK-47s pointed down at the ground, started walking our way and waving.

  “They see Marge’s car and think we’re her,” I smiled. “They aren’t gonna be happy when they find out the truth.”

  “They are going to be less happy when they see what we brought with us,” Charlie said as he looked in the rearview mirror. “The party has arrived.”

  The two women got almost to the car when they saw the Z herd coming from behind us. They both were yelling at the car and trying to get us to move forward, but Charlie just let the engine idle.

  “They haven’t noticed we’re not women,” Charlie said. “Sucks when they find out.”

  “Yep,” I said. “Sucks even more when you run them down.”

  Charlie looked over at me, his eyes wide.

  “What?” he asked as the women got closer and closer. “You want me to run them over?”

  “Yeah, that’s the plan,” I said, “but wait until they are a little closer. I don’t want them to have a chance to jump out of the way or cry out. Hopefully they are the only two guards on the gate. We squash them and then ram the gate, leaving it wide open for the Z block party to begin.”

  Charlie turned back to look out the windshield. His hands gripped the steering wheel and I could see the debate rage in his head.

  “They have Mom and Greta,” I said, “and Elsbeth.”

  That settled it. Charlie slammed his foot down on the gas as he let the clutch out. I could see the pain the movement caused and knew his wound was getting the best of him. Nevertheless, all I needed him to do was last just a few minutes more so we could get into Sorority Village and get the rest of our family back.

  The women in front of us frowned as the car came at them. Neither even tried to jump, they were so stunned at what was happening to them. Just before impact, I locked eyes with one of them and saw the rage that sat there in her baby blues.

  Tough shit, lady. I’ve got some rage of my own.

  The women’s bodies rolled up over the car and the windshield cracked, but didn’t break. I spun in my seat and saw them tumble down the back, hitting the pavement hard. One of them hit at a bad angle and her neck snapped like that. The other, the one with the rage eyes, knew how to roll and actually was able to get to her feet and raise her rifle.

  Unfortunately, she should have been aiming at the Zs and not at us. They swarmed her and she was lost from my sight in a pile of hungry mouths and deadly claws.

  Charlie took a hard right and gunned it. The car slammed into the gate and all I saw next was a big white pillow hitting my face.

  Airbag.

  “Dad?” Charlie mumbled from behind his own airbag. “Dad, you okay?”

  “All good, Son,” I said.

  “Marge! MARGE!”

  “Uh-oh,” Charlie said. “Company.”

  “We’ll give them a surprise when they open the doors,” I said as I aimed my 9mm at the door. I saw Charlie aim the AK-47 he took from Marge at his door while we both waited to be “rescued.”

  “Marge, thank God you...” the poor woman said just before I put a bullet in her chest. She coughed and sputtered, then fell to the pavement as I pushed out of the car and started shooting at anyone I saw.

  Charlie was out of the car also and spraying the road with bullets as we ran towards the gate that had just opened. His rifle clicked empty, but he ejected the magazine and put in a new one before the echoes of his gunfire had even died down. I made sure to scoop up as many extra magazines as I could find along the way, taking them right off the fresh corpses we left in our wake.

  The one flaw in our brave assault was that I only had two magazines for my 9mm and it didn’t look like any of the women were using pistols, just AK-47s, which was weird since 9mms were pretty ubiquitous, especially in the gun loving south. Where the fuck did they get all the AK-47s?

  “Dad! Down!” Charlie shouted as my pistol clicked empty.

  I didn’t argue and hit the ground as he turned and fired at the front door of one of the sorority houses. He didn’t spray the door, but took careful shots, killing the four women that raced out at us. Even if my magazine hadn’t been empty, I doubt I could have made those shots, not with my left hand, at least. Back in my right handed days, I would have been close, but nowhere near as good as my boy.

  The kid had a natural eye and in those brief moments in Sorority Village, he just let instinct take over.

  “Mother fucker!” Bitsy screamed as she ran down the center of the street at us.

  Which, as I tried to focus, were actually two streets that spilt off at a Y with some nice looking landscaping in between. I’d have loved to check the place out if I wasn’t busy scrambling to my feet and running from the crazy women that descended on us like gun-toting locusts.

  Blood bloomed on Charlie’s cheek and I knew he’d been grazed, but it didn’t faze him one bit as he settled the rifle to his shoulder and squ
eezed off one, two, three shots. Bitsy’s eyes went wide as she was knocked backwards by the first two shots. Then those eyes were lost from sight as the third bullet slammed right between them. The whole scene slowed down and it looked like the back of her head had just opened up and barfed out her brains as he body tumbled to the ground.

  “You okay?” I yelled at Charlie as he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “You hit anywhere else?”

  “I’m good!” he shouted, half-deaf from all the gunfire.

  I have to say that if survivors actually live into old age during this apocalypse, they are all going to be stone fucking deaf because of the lack of ear protection while firing semi-automatic weapons. You never think of that shit when you’re busy blasting away at a dozen middle-aged, psycho sorority Sisters.

  Or when you’re firing into a herd of Zs.

  “Dad! Behind you!” Greta yelled as she ran towards us out of one of the houses. Kappa Kappa Gamma, I think. I don’t fucking know. It’s all Greek to...nah...too easy.

  I spun about to see the herd had moved a little faster than expected. It was blocking the whole entrance to Sorority Village and suddenly I had a sinking feeling that the Village might have had only one way in and one way out.

  Oops.

  “Jace!” Stella yelled, right on Greta’s heels. “Jace!”

  There were certainly some hugs when they reached us, but they didn’t last long as more women decided we needed their bullets more than the herd of Zs did. The Stanfords were a’scramblin’!

  Stella and Greta led us back into the house they came out of and we slammed the door behind us.

  “Where to now?” I asked.

  “Down,” Stella said. “We think there’s a way to get to the river from the basement.”

  “That would be handy since I fucked up as usual and brought a fuck ton of Zs down on us,” I smiled. “My bad.”

  “Hey there, Long Pork,” Elsbeth said from a doorway at the top of a set of stairs that led down to the basement. She had their packs at her feet and kicked them towards Greta and Stella “I knew you’d find us. You always have to be the hero. Then I always have to save you from being the hero.” She gestured to the stairs. “See?”