The Deadland Chronicles (Book 2): The Undead Horde

by Spears, R. J.

  This broke the dam of resistance inside Madison, and she snatched up the walkie-talkie. She started talking in a staccato fashion. “Clayton’s not here. We saw a truck or something. He went to check it out.”

  “Who was it?” Jo asked.

  “We don’t know,” Madison said.

  “Can you get Clayton and get back here?”

  “He went into the woods. We don’t know where he is.”

  Ryan said, “Uh oh.”

  Madison looked down the road. A dark SUV drove onto the road about a half a mile away.

  “There’s a truck coming our way,” Madison said into the walkie-talkie.

  “Get out of there,” Jo said.

  “We can’t go without Clayton,” Ryan said.

  “Ryan says we can’t leave Clayton,” Madison said.

  The SUV was moving slowly down the road toward them. When Clayton had parked them on the side of the road, he had nestled them behind an outcropping of bushes that partially obscured the front of the truck. The keyword was partially, and it was only a matter of seconds before they were clearly visible.

  “The truck is coming our way,” Madison said.

  “Clayton can take care of himself,” Jo said. “Get out of there.”

  Madison sat the walkie-talkie on the seat and put her hand on the keys dangling from the ignition.

  Chapter 20

  While They Slept

  Ryan reached out and placed his hand over Madison’s hand as she was poised to start the truck

  “We can’t leave Clayton,” Ryan said, staring directly at Madison. “Please.”

  The truck continued toward them, albeit at a cautious pace. Its blocky shape and dark color gave it a looming quality to the two passengers in the truck.

  Madison didn’t start the engine but turned to Ryan and said, “We don’t know how many guys are in that SUV. I’m willing to take them on if you want, but we don’t know where Clayton is.”

  “I don’t want to leave him. I can’t,” Ryan said, the words coming out tight and clipped. With the damage done to his throat and neck from when the control collar the Lord of the Dead had forced him to wear self-destructed, his voice sounded dry and raspy. He then said, “But I don’t want you risking your life for him. You barely know him. He saved my life, so I owe him.”

  “Right now, there’s just two of us, and God knows how many of them.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said as he grabbed the door handle. “I need to do this. You need to get the truck away. We can’t risk losing it. They need it back at the school.”

  “But you’ll need me if you get in a shootout,” Madison said.

  He turned to her and looked directly in her eyes. “I know you can probably handle whatever, but we have to be smart about this.”

  “Then why are you going out there?” she asked.

  “Because I have to,” he said as he opened the door and jumped out. He looked back inside at her. “Clayton saved my life.” He paused again, looking a little lost. “They’ll spot you as soon as you move. I don’t want them chasing you, so I’m going to fire on them from the woods hopefully to slow them down.”

  “Can you meet me at the gas station we passed about a mile back?” Madison said.

  He didn’t want to say that he was most likely not going to survive what was about to happen, so he said, “Sure.” He looked through the bushes that partially covered the front of the truck and saw their window of safety closing fast. “Don’t move until I shoot.” He slammed the door shut and ran along the side of the truck then circled around its back end and sprinted into the woods. When he made it ten feet in, he cut to his right and started running in the direction of the oncoming SUV.

  The trees passed by his face so quickly, it was almost impossible to track the SUV as it came down the road, but he caught the briefest of glimpses of it. His goal was to get enough distance between himself and the truck to allow it to get away. But with the time Madison was going to need to turn the truck around, that distance was going to be a lot shorter than he wanted. Much shorter.

  He made the final calculation and cut to his right, moving toward the tree line along the side of the road. He slid in on the side of a wide tree trunk then peeked out onto the road. The truck was moving slower than he expected, but he could see two men hanging out the back windows, their rifles aimed ahead as they scanned down the road for anything that might be an adversary.

  Ryan made the cold calculations that they would be on his position in about a minute. His head was good with that, but his heart held a whole other equation.

  He had never shot anyone in his life. The Lord of the Dead had made him do horrible things to people, but that was under coercion of being shocked to death. The collars that Anthony had made his human slaves wear were set up to shock them into submission. Ryan witnessed Anthony shock one of his slaves to death. It was a horrible sight.

  But this was different. He would be shooting at real, live people. No one was making him do it. Not this time, but Clayton and Madison were at risk. He’d have to find a way to pull the trigger.

  He peeked out again, and the truck was about thirty seconds from the point where he would have to start shooting. He felt a cold ball of sweat slide down his back, and his legs and arms felt a little numb, as if they weren’t part of his body anymore. For some reason, it seemed as if his throat had tightened up and oxygen was in short supply to his brain. Pinpoints of bright lights flickered at the corners of his vision.

  He had to shoot. He just had to, but it seemed as if, in that instant, his body had turned against him.

  The truck was not fifteen seconds from his point of no return. He did not want to wait until it was right on top of him.

  He willed his arms to lift the rifle, but it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. It was coming up, but he thought he might have to worry about the truck being beside him. At this rate, it would be down the road, and Madison would be in some serious trouble.

  The rational part of his mind screamed at his emotional part, ordering it to get off its ass and to start shooting, but something inside him told him that it was a losing battle. He had failed.

  That’s when he heard the first shot. Initially, he thought that he may have panic fired, but he quickly learned that he hadn’t. Then he thought he or the truck had been spotted by the occupants of the truck and they had opened up on the truck.

  In looking at the SUV, he quickly discovered that it was not either of the men hanging out the windows. In fact, they were both looking off into the woods on the right side of the truck.

  A second shot sounded, and Ryan saw the man on the right side of the truck slump down as he dropped his rifle onto the road where it skittered along for about ten feet.

  The driver slammed on its brakes as the man continued to dangle out the side of the truck. Gunshots erupted from inside the truck as they poured bullets into the woods at whoever was firing at them.

  It has to be Clayton, Ryan thought.

  Something about Clayton taking action broke the spell on Ryan, and his body obeyed his commands again. He brought up his rifle and started firing at the truck. His bullets flew high at first, but he corrected his aim, and the windshield of the SUV cracked in two places from his shots.

  Ryan heard the sound of an engine behind him, and when he glanced back, he saw their truck making an extreme hard turn, the tires digging up copious amounts of soil as it went. Then it bounded up the gentle slope beside the road and threatened to go back over to the other side of the road before Madison got the truck under control. Still, the backend shook like a dog shaking off water for nearly three seconds before she pushed the accelerator down and the truck shot down the road like a bullet.

  The driver of the SUV decided it was time to evacuate their current position, slammed the transmission into reverse, and sped down the road backwards, away from Ryan and Clayton’s bullets.

  Ryan fired a couple more times but then gave up. He saw muzzle flashes coming from
across the road not too far back into the woods. After a few more shots, Clayton gave up, too.

  The SUV continued back down the road until the driver hit the brakes, and the vehicle screeched to a stop. It was pretty far away now, but Ryan saw the door with the man hanging out it open, spilling the body onto the roadway. An armed man jumped out of that door and sprinted off into the woods. The backdoor on the other side of the SUV flew open, and two other men scrambled out. The first man went to one knee and fired a quick burst from his rifle into the woods on the right side of the road, but he was shooting blind. The other man ran off into the woods on the left side of the road, and the kneeling man quickly stood and followed the other man.

  The truck continued to idle in the road, neither looking menacing or beaten. It was just sitting there, like a block of potential energy.

  The adrenaline fueled courage Ryan had experienced only a moment ago flowed out of him like a river heading for the ocean, and his legs felt like rubber. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Clayton was obviously alive and well in the woods on the right side of the road, but Ryan had no idea where he was.

  Were they better off now that he had stayed? Ryan asked himself.

  Clayton had done the most damage and had been the one to take out one of their men. Still, Ryan knew that his few shots made their forces look bigger than they were and probably played a big part in causing the SUV to retreat, so he gave himself that.

  But where were they? Clayton was doing his Rambo thing over in the woods, but Ryan knew very little about battlefield tactics. He wasn’t sure if he should try to get to Clayton or fall back. If he fell back, then how would he link up with Clayton? The final question to drop was, where was Madison and the truck?

  Ryan hung to the tree, partially paralyzed again. Staying where he was would be a bad long-term strategy. Moving was filled with uncertainty and risk.

  A voice hissed across the road at him, and he nearly pulled the trigger on his rifle. “Hey, Ryan!”

  It was Clayton.

  “Yeah, Clayton,” he yelled in that way where you’re trying to be heard, but you’re also avoiding having your voice carry too far. He searched the thick woods on the other side of the woods but didn’t see a thing until Clayton actually waved at him from a tall tree on the other side of the road.

  “What did I tell you about shooting and moving?” Clayton said with a chiding tone. “You shoot, you move. Never stay in the same place. They’ll track you down for sure.”

  “Sorry,” Ryan said.

  “We’ve got to move,” Clayton said.

  “Do you want me to come to you?”

  “Are you fucking dumb?” Clayton said. “We gotta move parallel with each other until we get around the corner. That truck isn’t going to stay where it is forever, and we’ve got at least three pissed off men coming after us. Now, move with me.”

  Ryan watched as Clayton started moving through the trees on the other side of the road. Ryan went into motion, too, but tried to track Clayton as he moved. There were times Clayton was gone from view, and there were times he would see Clayton’s dark form moving in the shadows.

  They continued like this for three minutes until they navigated around a long looping turn. Once they made it past that, Clayton yelled across the road. “I’m coming across to your side. Your job is to cover for me. If you see something move on the road or the woods, you shoot it. Got it?”

  “Yes,” was all Ryan said, but he got behind a tree and brought his rifle up to aim down the road. There were no obvious targets, and the SUV was nowhere in sight.

  Ten seconds later, Clayton burst through the underbrush across the road, and he was beside Ryan in less than four seconds, breathing hard.

  Ryan continued staring down the road but still saw no movement. The SUV was out of sight, but he knew it could speed their way at any second.

  “Why the hell did you guys keeping honking the damn horn?” Clayton asked once he had his breathing under control.

  “Oh,” Ryan said. “Sorry. We got a message from the other team. The horde is coming. They saw it.”

  “Well, shit,” Clayton said. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Where did Madison take the truck?”

  “I told her to drive to the abandoned gas station about a mile back.”

  “I can see why you honked, but next time, the first three should be the only ones.”

  “Sorry,” Ryan replied.

  “Let it go,” Clayton said. “We gotta book back to the truck and hope those assholes don’t come after us. Let’s move.”

  Clayton didn’t look back but just started jogging. Ryan took one more look down the road but didn’t see anything. He started running after Clayton, hoping not to take a bullet in the back.

  Chapter 21

  Chinese Fire Drill

  “Why did you let me sleep that long?” Donovan said as he stood up too quickly. His left leg had fallen asleep, and he stumbled two steps forward before catching himself.

  Mason put up his hands to brace Donovan but let them fall to his side when Donovan steadied himself.

  They were in one of the school rooms on the east side of the building. They had put together a makeshift bed out of some wall cushion torn off from the gym and covered it with a coarse mattress pad. It wasn’t much of a bed, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to exhaustion. Donovan certainly didn’t complain.

  “You were nearly out on your feet,” Mason said.

  “Four hours was too long,” Donovan said.

  “I’m sorry,” Mason said. “We...I thought we had more time.”

  “We need to get everyone up and moving,” Donovan said.

  “I told them to get going a few minutes ago.”

  “Let’s get out there,” Donovan said.

  A minute later, they were outside caught up in near chaos. People ran for the vehicles, but with the truck and the jeep not there, there was lots of confusion.

  “What are these people doing?” Donovan asked. “They just need to return to the vehicles they came here in.”

  “It’s the zombies,” Mason said. “It’s got them all spooked.”

  Jo rushed over to Donovan and Mason. “I’ve talked to the Clayton, Madison, and Ryan. They came across some of the road bandits. There was a shootout.”

  Donovan said, “We need that truck.”

  “I’m glad you’re worried about the people,” she said. She put up a hand to cut him off. “Sorry. I think I got up on the wrong side of the floor. Yep, I pretty much collapsed on the floor and was out like a light. Anyway, they are okay, and they’re on their way back.”

  “How soon?”

  “They said they are stepping on it,” Jo said.

  Del exited one of the doors on the side of the school but looked a little disoriented, reminding Jo of a patient after some benign but prolonged surgical procedure. The Benton sisters stepped out the same door a few seconds later, but they looked a lot fresher than he did. They even wore smiles, which was a stark difference from everyone else there. Nate Jones was the last one out the doors, hobbling along on a pair of crutches.

  All four of them spotted Jo, Donovan, and Mason and started toward them. People ran in front of them as they made their way across the pandemonium. It was hard for Jones to keep up, but he was doing his best.

  Del was the first to arrive, and his first question was, “Where’s the truck?”

  “On its way back,” Jo said.

  The Benton sisters slowed up and went back to see if they could help Jones, but he waved them off.

  “Was there a problem?” Del asked.

  “Apparently, they ran into some road bandits,” she said. “And not to pile on, the people in the jeep spotted the horde.”

  “What?!” Del said.

  The Benton sisters finally arrived, and Gertie asked, “What’s this about whores?”

  Clara said, “They’re talking about the horde, I think.”

  Jones made it to them and asked, “How much
time do we have?”

  Jo looked to Mason and said, “Mason?”

  “The other team should be back here in five minutes,” Mason said. “I’d say we have forty-five minutes to an hour.”

  “Then you might want to tell these people to calm down,” Jones said. “We have time.”

  Mason stepped away from the smaller group and put his hands up to his mouth, making a megaphone-like form. “Everybody, calm down! We have time.”

  Many people stopped in their tracks and looked his direction, but a few kept in motion, rushing around with no real sense of where they were going and what they were going to do when they got there.

  Mason continued to yell. “It’s really simple, folks. Just get in the vehicles you came here in. If you have any new supplies, wedge them in where you can. We leave here as soon as the jeep and the truck are back.”

  That got the last frenetic few to finally slow down and stop.

  “Everyone, do a headcount of the people you came here with,” Mason shouted. “We don’t want to leave anyone behind.”

  Donovan came up behind Mason and slapped a hand onto his shoulder. “You’re doing a good job with them. If something were to happen to me--”

  “We’d be screwed,” Mason said. “They just listened to me because I yelled the loudest.”

  “I think you’re selling yourself short,” Donovan said.

  He started to say something else, but a muffled scream came from the people around the trailer. When Donovan, Jo, Mason, and Del looked that way, they saw a woman covering her hand with one hand and pointing across the parking lot with the other. When they followed the trajectory of where she was pointing, they saw three zombies shuffling across the parking lot.

  Like the ones that had come through the cornfield earlier, these three creature were festooned with dried out corn leaves, making them look like walking scarecrows. That didn’t make them any less frightening. Or less dangerous.

  The people standing around the trailer stepped back around it, making it a barrier between them and the oncoming zombies, even though the zombies were seventy-five yards away. A couple of them reached into the trailer and retrieved the shovels inside and held them at the ready, but neither one of them looked ready to go on the offensive. In the time honored tradition of group dynamics, instead, they directed their attention to the small group of leaders, waiting for them to take on the problem.