Simon and Ahole yanked the doors open. Cortez, Miller, and Ulrich made their way through the parking lot, followed closely by Radzinski, Genevieve, and Bull. Most of the undead had been drawn to the other side of the building. A few stragglers remained in the parking lot, wandering aimlessly. They were put down without incident by the first group.
Miller and Radzinski were resigned to using broken table legs as bludgeons in light of the no-firing order. Close combat with such primitive weapons was alien to them; their technique was sloppy but effective nonetheless.
Genevieve’s deadly precision with her naginata was a sight to behold. Its long reach allowed for ample distance between her and the carriers’ disease-racked bodies. Her dance with the undead almost seemed choreographed in its beauty.
With each swing of his mighty war hammer, Bull dispatched any carrier within arm’s reach. Skulls collapsed beneath every blow or simply exploded upon impact.
“Holy shit!” Radzinski shouted, taken aback by the spectacle.
“What can I say? They love their work,” Cortez replied proudly as, one after another, he crushed the skulls of nearby infected with a pair of nightsticks.
Ulrich’s battle-ax came down heavy, cleaving a ghoul’s head in two though burying his weapon deep into her chest cavity in the process. A swift kick to the thing’s breast released its grip, and he was on his way.
“Tis a glorious day for battle indeed,” he sang while swinging his giant ax into another target, seemingly enjoying the carnage.
Petrova led her group past Ulrich and deeper into the parking lot until they reached the rendezvous point. Once there, they spread out amongst a line of abandoned vehicles and ducked down out of sight.
“That guy can’t be serious?” Bernie was dumbstruck.
“Don’t ask me. He’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him.” Petrova peered under the cars for hidden threats.
“Fucking guy really thinks he’s a Viking.”
“I don’t care who he thinks he is, Bernie, as long as he keeps putting those fuckers down.” Casandra did her best to stay low.
Safely at the edge of the parking lot, the only obstacle between a city overrun with undead and rescue was the towering two-story sand dune.
“We made it,” said Samantha excitedly.
“This isn’t over yet! Everyone, stay in the parking lot. Do not approach the dune yet.” Cortez pulled a short-range radio from his bag. “Zodiac One, this is Cortez requesting immediate evac from Landing Zone Seven. Over.” Cortez was silent as they waited for what seemed an eternity for a reply.
The small plastic box finally crackled to life. “Cortez, this is Zodiac One. Release flares for location confirmation. Over.”
“Negative, Zodiac One. Repeat, negative on flares. Hostiles in pursuit. LZ compromised. Over.”
“That’s an affirmative, Cortez. Zodiac One en route to Landing Zone Seven. ETA six minutes. Over.” The box went silent again.
“Copy that.” Cortez put away the radio while addressing the survivors. “Okay, people, it’s game time. Everyone, keep your heads down and stay in the parking lot until I give the all-clear. We climb the dune in ninety-second intervals. When you reach the end of the pier, your boat will be waiting. You’ll have thirty seconds to board. That’s a lot longer than it sounds. Stay calm, jump off the pier, and swim for the boat. They’ll help you aboard.”
“We have to jump?” Samantha asked nervously, wearing a hole in Markus’s jeans.
“It’s nothing to worry about, red. Just don’t swallow too much water.” Petrova attempted to assure her with a slap on the ass for good measure.
Lancaster began to rise from his position beside a van. “We are surrounded by those monstrosities. Surely you don’t expect us to simply stand here, waiting?” He looked around expectantly.
“They’re right, Lancaster. We have to stay put,” Miller chided. “If those things notice us bunched up on the pier, there will be nowhere to go if they catch up to us.” He attempted to reassure the frightened man.
“Listen to your friend, sir,” Cortez said before addressing the lot of them. “People, we have done this before. Do not panic and we will all get through this in one piece.”
“I am afraid not, young man.” Lancaster rose from his crouched position. “I will not be staying in this godforsaken parking lot for one moment longer. I am going to that pier right now to await my liberators.” Lancaster took a step toward the dune as Petrova pulled her knife, holding it inches from the stubborn man’s ear. She looked to Cortez for authorization.
“One more step toward that beach and you die,” Cortez calmly explained. “Return to cover immediately.”
“Good Lord, Miller, are you seeing this? Do something, man!” Lancaster pleaded.
Marisol leaned in close to Cortez’s ear. “Look at him,” she whispered while casting an accusing stare at Lancaster. “This man is a self-centered, worthless piece of shit. We’ve lost good people in the time it took to get here. How he’s still alive, I’ll never understand. Here we are, moments from rescue, and still all he can think about is himself. He’s about to walk out on us like he did to his own family back in Pepperbush. He left them to die. He will do the same here to all of us in a heartbeat. Stab him. Stab him in the fucking stomach and leave him here for those things as a distraction.” Marisol fingered her knife as Cortez and Petrova exchanged questioning glances.
“He’s right, Lancaster.” Miller did all he could to keep himself from choking the man dead on the spot. “Get back into cover now, or I swear to God I’ll let both of them cut you down where you stand.” He turned his back on Lancaster. Cortez could decide his fate. Miller was well and truly done with the man.
A single tear streamed down Lancaster’s leathery face as he did what he was told. Cortez approached as Petrova put away her knife, readying for the climb.
“Listen to me and listen carefully, old man. I don’t know what you’ve done to make these people so angry with you, and frankly, I do not care. You and your people will have plenty of time to hash things out later. But for now, this is what matters.” He turned to show off his pack. “These supplies are going to help keep hundreds of people alive, maybe more. I’ve lost count of how many souls we look after.” Cortez looked around at Petrova’s group kneeling for cover in a parking lot surrounded by infected and shook his head in disbelief at one man’s selfishness. “Getting these supplies and my people back to Haven is all that matters to me. If I have to put you down to make that happen, then so be it. When it comes to the well-being of Haven and its crew, you are expendable. We won’t have this conversation again.” He turned his attention from the old man and back to the issue at hand.
Petrova nodded in agreement. As did Miller and Marisol. The remainder of the group were stunned by Lancaster and still processing his irrationality.
Cortez waved at the dune. “Petrova, now!”
• • •
Ahole couldn’t have cared less for the drama unfolding at the other end of the parking lot, though he kept an eye on it anyway, in case things escalated. He spent the downtime jogging in place in the safety of the hotel, shadow-boxing an imaginary opponent. “Whew, get ready to run, kids. This is my favorite part,” Ahole said enthusiastically. Sufficiently hyped, he sent one last uppercut into the air before cracking his knuckles and stretching his left knee up to his chest, followed by his right. “Yeah, you ready motherfucker?” He slapped both of his hands against Simon’s chest, nearly knocking the smaller man over.
“Let’s do this,” Simon responded with a grin while bumping fists with Ahole.
“Are you ready for this?” Vanessa leaned into Lillian, who nodded in the affirmative.
“Stay close to me,” Lillian whispered. “I’ll see you on the boat.” She released Vanessa’s hand and prepared to run.
Ryan was propped up against the door. His group was next, going with Simon. It was decided that both he and Casandra, considering their conditions, shouldn’t be
in the same group. A pregnant woman took precedence, which he agreed with, so he would be in the second and final group, led by Simon. By this point, Ryan was able to limp around a little on his own, so long as he kept any real pressure off his leg. The problem was that any kind of exertion nearly knocked him unconscious due to blood loss.
“Jeremiah and I are going to carry you to the boat, Ryan. Do you understand?” Rachel asked.
“Uh-huh,” he managed.
Aiko didn’t like the idea of Jeremiah carrying someone all the way up a dune and back down the other side into God knows what, but what choice did they have? “Be careful out there, Jeremiah.” Aiko gripped his wrist tight.
“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t stop for anything until you hit the end of that pier.”
“Okay.” Aiko nodded slowly. There was no use in arguing the matter. Her fiancé’s mind was made up. He would see Ryan through. “Will you hold me until we leave?”
He felt no need to reply verbally as he wrapped her up in his large arms. She stood there, warm, comfortable, and safe. Jeremiah rested his chin atop her head, waiting for their turn to be called.
Step after breathtaking step, Petrova’s group scaled the dune, reaching the top in just over the allotted ninety seconds. One at a time, they disappeared from sight, over the other side. Samantha shot a quick glance back to the hotel, hoping to catch a glimpse of the others, but Markus was moving too fast, leading her forward by the hand. The uppermost floors of the hotel were all that she could see.
At the bottom of the dune, Miller awaited the last group. “That went smooth.”
“Like I said, Miller, we’ve done this before,” Cortez replied, waving on Simon in the distance.
As Simon’s group mounted the dune, Rachel, Ryan, and Jeremiah pulled off from the pack. Ryan leaned against a car, trying to catch his breath.
“Jeremiah, Go. We’ll catch up,” Rachel said.
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Your fiancé, your pregnant fiancé, is about to board a ship that we don’t have the first bit of intel on. I’m not saying I don’t trust these people, but you shouldn’t take the chance on getting separated from her when we have no idea what we’re heading into,” Rachel insisted.
“Rachel, I…” Jeremiah was speechless.
“You know I’m right. Go,” she said. “I was never going to let you fall behind with me, anyway.”
Jeremiah cursed under his breath. Rachel knew exactly where to hit him. He kissed her on the forehead. Reluctantly, he pressed on up the steep dune.
Rachel watched Jeremiah climb for a moment. She knew it tore him up not to be able to lend a hand, and she hated doing that to him, but she meant what she said. She returned her attention to Ryan. “We have to go, sweetie. It’s now or never,” she said calmly but urgently.
Ryan’s head bobbed side to side, eyes barely open.
“I can’t feel my leg,” he mumbled.
“That man over there should have gone with the first group.” Miller pointed to Ryan who was still in the parking lot.
“Take a good look at him. That man over there isn’t going to make it,” Cortez fired back, waving Radzinski, Ulrich, and the other perimeter guards onto the dune. “You all saw it, but you can’t admit it. That kind of baggage gets people killed.”
“You can’t expect me to just leave him here.”
“Look, I respect your position and how far you’ve brought these people, and on next to nothing, no less. You feel responsible for them—I get that—but it’s time to hand the ball off. They’re in my hands now. The many outweigh the few, remember? It’s a concept I know you’re familiar with. How many did you lose along the way? Did you go back for any of them? Or did you carry on with the greater good in mind?”
“Let me try. Please.”
“I don’t want to leave you, but I won’t risk my team for a dead man. If he makes it to the pier before the last boat leaves, he can come with us. In the meantime, we are done here.” Cortez pushed past Miller as he joined the final group on its ascent.
“Miller?” Rachel choked. She didn’t need to ask, nor would she ever have to. Her eyes were anxious with the idea of Ryan not making it to safety with the rest of them.
Miller and Rachel carried Ryan to the top of the dune, one slow step after the next until finally the summit was achieved. Before them, the vast beach opened up below, the pier and the final zodiac still waiting beyond. A minefield of infected dotted the landscape between them and salvation. The other group’s dash to safety obviously piqued the carriers’ attention.
Light-headed, Ryan tripped over his own feet, sending the trio to their knees. Thrown off-balance, Miller plummeted down the dune, landing hard on the beach two stories below. Dazed, the soldier slowly rose in time to flip an incoming carrier over and away from him as another lunged. Miller kicked its knee, snapping the bone backward and out of its socket. He sprang to his feet, spinning, his knife unsheathed. In one swift move, he buried the blade deep into another carrier’s temple. Miller let the knife fall with the body as he equipped his sidearm. Three more fell in as many seconds. Just behind him, another infected dropped. Its body crumbled to the sand inches from his feet. He never heard that one coming. Three-round bursts sang out on Miller’s left. He ducked instinctively and stole a glance as the bullets whizzed by his head. Cortez had returned. He was making his way back toward the dune base from the pier, all the while laying down suppressing fire. Short, controlled bursts kept the enemy at arm’s length, buying Miller precious seconds to regain his composure.
“Go!” Cortez shouted.
Miller was seasoned enough to know that Cortez had bought him the time he needed. His main concern now was Rachel and if she could make it from so far away.
“He came back for us,” Rachel gasped. “Stay with me, Ryan. We’re almost there.” She struggled under Ryan’s weight as they made their way across the top of the dune to better line themselves up with the pier. Their feet became heavier with each footfall in the soft sand. Traces of red began to form on Ryan’s bandages; the fall had reopened his wound.
A carrier lunged from the tall dune grasses, knocking the pair over. Rachel tumbled halfway down the hill before she managed to right herself. Her rifle, however, continued the journey down. She fought hard against the sand, dragging her heavy feet one step at a time back to the top of the dune. Ryan landed face-down, the creature atop him, the infected’s weight pinning him in the soft, warm sand. Weak from blood loss, he could hardly struggle as the creature buried its face into his newly gushing wound. He managed the strength for a scream as more infected reached the hill’s peak. Wrestling with a small female carrier, he was able to send it over the steep dune face. It narrowly missed Rachel on its way down. Blood drained from Ryan’s fully reopened injury. His world began to spin.
“Hold on, Ryan!” Rachel yelled, trudging up the mountain of sand. Every step, it felt like she was carrying a lead weight attached to her feet.
Cortez pointed to the scene. Both he and Miller offered covering fire. Undead plummeted past Rachel as she ascended the dune for a second time. Another carrier approached Ryan. Rachel fired off four shots before she managed to drop this one, fatigue taking its toll. Her aim and balance were thrown off by the steep dune. Not willing to chance hitting Ryan, she holstered her sidearm to better climb.
Ryan’s sight was blurring, but he could still make out Rachel climbing the dune, coming to his rescue. Even in his condition, to see her so close, returning for him, brought a smile to his face. He held out his hand. If she could just help him to his feet…
“Ryan, Ryan!” Rachel shouted. She shook him hard. His limp head rolled from side to side. There was nothing left to hold up its weight. She was too late; he was gone. Even in the summer heat, Ryan’s hands had already grown cold. She held his head in her lap for a moment and whispered a silent prayer as dozens of infected tumbled down the surrounding dune. Most were falling victim to Miller and Cortez’s continued assault, though
many unstable-footed carriers tripped and fell of their own accord.
“What is she doing?” Miller shouted while backing toward the pier.
The undead’s numbers continued to swell on the beach below, the trail from the dune to the pier quickly closing. A sharp pain pierced Rachel’s stomach. In the moment she spent praying for him, lamenting his loss, Ryan turned. The newly birthed monster took advantage of her exposed belly. He bit hard and deep, removing a good portion of skin. No one would ever know if Ryan turned because of the hot sun, the severity of his wound, or its closeness to a major artery. The only thing that was certain was that he changed, and he changed fast. Even back in Philadelphia, she never witnessed a transformation occur so quickly. Her moment of grief might have just cost her life. She kicked Ryan’s reanimated corpse away as a second carrier grabbed her by the hair, forcing her into the sand. As it fell on top of her, her mouth filled with the coarse granules. Ryan was quickly making his way back up to her belly. Cold, undead fingers clawed at warm living flesh, digging bloody trenches into her skin along the way. Rachel grabbed the unfamiliar one by the throat, barely keeping it away from her face. In her haste, she shot it in the head, sending the monster careening backward down the dune. Its putrid blood and brain matter sprayed her in the face.
“Miller, there’s no more time!” Cortez pulled Miller onto the pier.
Dozens of undead converged on their location. Hundreds more approached from all corners of the beach. Miller watched helplessly as the silhouette of Rachel atop the dune fought for her life.
With enough wiggle room to move, Rachel kicked her reanimated lover in the teeth before starting a forced tumble of her own down the hill, quickly putting distance between her and an increasing number of infected. Dazed from the plummet, she pulled herself to her feet. Agony coursed through her body as the wound in her stomach leaked and pulsed. Her eyes and lips burned from the filth splashed on them. All around her, fallen undead regained their footing as still more plummeted down beside her. They don’t matter, she thought. The pier was within sight. She willed herself forward, step by painful step. Behind her, more infected fell down the dune. A rather large carrier had a good head of steam as it came barreling straight for her. The impact knocked her back to the sand. Whether by instinct or a primitive form of intelligence, the gathering infected quickly took the opportunity to close the distance.
The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll Page 28