“I gotta give it to you Dan.” She let out a deep breath. “You are absolutely right.” She contemplated for a moment, wondering how to approach this situation in the event that he was right. She finally shrugged and simply knocked on the door, figuring if anything was in there it would stir them up.
The knock echoed through the empty shell of a building. When nothing followed the knock, she cracked open the door and peered inside.
“Building one is totally empty,” she said. “They took everything. Checking building two now.”
She repeated the knock on the second building, and this time it was returned by moans. Rather than tempt fate, she ceased and backed away from the door. The banging from the inside was quick and loud, but the large metal door stood fast.
“Good call on the trap,” Sparks commended. “The second storage building was filled with zombies.”
“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” Dan sighed with relief. “And really glad I thought of the trap.”
“Not nearly as glad as I am,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
“If my count is correct, this is the second time I’ve saved your life,” he said wryly.
She chuckled. “Well, I don’t like owing favors, let alone life debts, so I’ll need to even up the score soon.”
“Well, you coming back safe should be worth at least one of the life debts,” he continued. “I mean, you can’t really fulfill it if you’re dead.”
She shook her head. “Well, I still have another day out here.”
“Where else are you going to go?” he asked, confused. “The compound was a bust.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m going to go Center Point.”
“It’s an unnecessary risk, Sparks,” Dan said quickly and firmly. “The militia said they hit Center Point on the first day.”
“Yeah, they hit the food,” she agreed. “But they didn’t say anything about the drug store. I mean, they have a drug store, don’t they?”
“Yeah they do, right on the main stretch in the center of town,” he confirmed.
“Alright,” she said, “well, that’s where I’m headed next. With any luck, they’ll have the nitro there for the heart patients in the group.”
“You’re a few miles from Center Point and it’s going to be getting dark soon,” he worried. “You should think about finding a place to hole up for the night.”
“Well it sure as hell isn’t going to be here.” She shivered at the thought. “So I’m open to suggestions.”
“The airport might not be a bad idea,” he suggested.
Sparks paused. “The airport? You mean the airport that’s on the other side of Center Point? Doesn’t really make much sense to huff it on foot through my destination so I can rest up.”
“Have you checked the docks?” Dan asked.
She furrowed her brow. “The docks?”
“Sparks, the militia compound is built on the river,” he explained. “Chances are they might have a boat floating around.”
She wanted to smack her forehead. “Just for the record,” she declared, “I’m chalking that one up to sleep deprivation.”
He chuckled. “Alright, I’ll buy that.”
She headed to the river side of the compound, and unlatched the door that lead out to a small dock area on the water.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she said. “There’s a boat.”
“It shouldn’t be too long of a trip,” he said. “The river runs right by Center Point and the airport. You should be able to see the air traffic control tower from the water. In fact, that would probably be a good place to hole up for the night.”
“Isolated, one entrance, and elevated so that I can see trouble headed my way,” she agreed. “Good call.”
He chuckled. “I get them every now and then.”
“Alright, I’ll give you a shout when I get to the airport,” she said. “Sparks out.” She clicked off the earpiece and untied the boat before hopping in. After checking the engine, she gave it a crank, starting it right up. As she motored away, she flicked to the left at a movement out of the corner of her eye, but it was too quick.
She didn’t know if it had been human or zombie, but she was not in any mood to stay around and find out.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Alright, that’s the last of the food,” Ricky declared, plonking the last few canned goods onto the living room floor. Mary stuffed as many as she could into the last bag, and stacked up another case of bottled water.
“Got some cold medication from the bathroom, nothing in the bedroom,” Jeff said as he emerged from the hallway and Rufus descended from upstairs.
“Rufus, you find anything?” Ricky turned to the older man.
He shook his head. “Just some cold and allergy meds,” he said. “Looked through the bedroom and didn’t find any weapons, unless you count a riding crop. I did take their handcuffs, though.”
“Gotta love rich folks and their kinks,” Mary said, earning a curious raise of the eyebrow from her husband.
Jeff shoved the table out of the way of the door, leading everyone outside. “Alright, five more houses on this block, but really we can only hit two of them. I don’t want to get too close to the burning one.”
Rufus headed up to the next door and knocked on it as a zombie check before working on getting it open.
“You know, I think we’d be alright to hit the neighbors houses,” Ricky said and crossed his arms. “I know these houses are close together, but it doesn’t look like the fire is spreading.”
“I still think it’s too big of a risk,” Jeff replied with a shake of his head. “If we encounter zombies we can only flee in one direction.”
“Man’s got a point,” Mary agreed. “I don’t really feel like running through flames, do you?”
“Nah, you’re right,” Ricky conceded. “Only gonna be about half a day’s worth of food for the group in those two houses anyway.”
“Hey Rufus, how’s the door coming?” Jeff called up the walkway.
“Couple more minutes,” the older man replied. “Gonna try and pick the lock before I kick the fucker in.”
The skinhead nodded. “No worries brother, we have plenty of-”
An explosion suddenly racked the neighborhood, a giant flaming SUV flying out of the garage and landing with a metallic screech in the middle of the street.
“Holy fuckknuckles man, what the hell was that?!” Ricky exclaimed.
“Looks like it was that asshole’s car,” Mary replied. “Gas tank must have exploded.”
Moans permeated the air and Jeff sighed. “That doesn’t sound good.” The trio headed towards the front gate, checking around the flaming wreckage. There was a small horde of zombies reaching through the wrought iron, apparently attracted to the noise.
“Aren’t you glad we didn’t open the gate?” Ricky asked smugly.
“Yeah, that was a good call there, bub,” Jeff admitted.
The horde grew larger, more zombies adding pressure to the gate. The trio watched with horror as the top dislodged from the motorized track and fell to the asphalt with a deafening clang.
“Back to the house!” Mary screamed, and they fled back towards where Rufus was still attempting to pick the lock.
“Open the door!” Jeff cried. “Open the door!”
Rufus glanced back to see his comrades running full tilt towards him, a horde of zombies hot on their heels. He rocketed to his feet and forcefully kicked the door, twice in succession, loosening the knob. The third kick broke the deadbolt, the door slamming open, and he dove inside just in time for the trio to barrel in.
Jeff threw his weight back into the door, closing it on a zombie arm and leg. Ricky and Mary joined him, but the old man stood, looking around the expansive front lobby.
“What the fuck are you doing Rufus?!” Jeff barked.
“Making a plan,” his white haired companion replied calmly.
“Well can you speed it up a bit?” Ricky grunted, trying to get a go
od foothold against the door.
Rufus took note of the indoor plants, specifically the four foot long metal planting spikes, jerking a few from the soil and heading back to the door.
“Ricky, Mary, get upstairs to the master bedroom,” he instructed. “Get ready to slam that door shut and try to find something heavy to move up against it.”
“Jeff, you braced?” Ricky asked.
“As much as I’m gonna be!” Jeff grunted. “Just go!”
The couple barreled up the stairs as Rufus set to slamming the metal spikes against the door. He grabbed a solid wood cabinet from the wall and dragged it over, putting it against the spikes.
“Alright, that’s gonna act like a doorstop,” he declared.
“Pretty sure that ain’t gonna hold them once I let go,” Jeff said.
Rufus sighed. “How fast can you climb stairs?”
“Goddammit,” Jeff growled, “I really wish people would stop asking me how quickly I can do athletic shit!”
Rufus cocked his head. “All I heard was fast.”
“Fucking hell,” Jeff panted.
“Alright, when I’m in position at the top of the stairs, I want you to run up them and get to the master bedroom as quickly as you can, you got me?” the older man asked.
The skinhead groaned. “Got it.”
Rufus stood at the top of the stairs with two of the metal spikes in hand. “Go!”
Jeff leapt away from the door and dove for the stairs, hitting the second step before the front door gave way. He reached the top of the stairs and turned to the master bedroom. Rufus shoved his spikes forward, catching the lead zombie in the chest. He flung the corpse back and forth with it, stopping the rest of the horde from getting up the stairs.
The zombie pushed forward, the spikes going further through him and piercing the dead ones behind it.
Jeff emerged from the bedroom, shotgun in hand. “Get ready to run,” he said, and shot the zombie point blank in the face.
The blast took its head clean off, causing the body to fly back into the horde, knocking them down the stairs.
The duo sprinted down the hallway and slammed the door to the master bedroom shut. As soon as it latched, Ricky and Mary dragged over a heavy dresser. There were moans and bangs from the other side of the door, but it didn’t budge.
“Goddammit,” Ricky groaned. “It would be nice if we could catch a motherfucking break today.”
“Hey, look at the bright side,” Mary huffed. “At least they weren’t flaming this time.”
Ricky let out an exasperated laugh. “Thank god for small motherfucking miracles.”
“Give me a minute y’all, I gotta let Dan know,” Jeff said, tapping his earpiece.
“Jeff, you ready for us?” The Principal asked immediately.
“Hold off on sending the boys,” the skinhead replied. “A horde broke through the gate.”
Dan swallowed hard. “Is everybody okay?”
“Yeah, for the time being,” Jeff said. “We’re holed up in a bedroom and have the door secure. I think we’re going to lay low for a bit and hope they get bored and leave.”
“If there’s anything we can do, let me know,” came the reply.
“Thanks Dan, I’ll keep you posted,” Jeff said, and hit the earpiece again.
“Well, good thing this is a king-sized bed,” Rufus said as he patted the cushy four-poster, “cause it looks like we’re gonna be here for awhile. At least we can get a nap in.”
Mary gaped at him. “How in the hell can you think about sleep with that noise?”
“My dear, when you can catch some z’s in a fox hole during a VietCong bombardment, a little banging on the door doesn’t really do much of anything,” Rufus drawled and stretched out on the bed. “Holy hell, these rich fuckers know how to live,” he moaned as he sank into the soft mattress.
“Rufus is right,” Jeff agreed. “Go ahead and lie down, get some rest if you can. I’ll take watch. We’ll give it an hour or so.”
Ricky and Mary nodded, climbing up onto the massive bed. Before they’d even grabbed pillows, a deep snore came out of Rufus’ open mouth. Jeff chuckled as he ascended the other side, stretching out across the foot of the bed.
Mary shook her head. “Are we sure he’s not narcoleptic?”
CHAPTER SIX
The air traffic control tower grew taller as Sparks motored down the moonlit waterway. The bright light on top if the tower acted as her North Star in the darkness. The river began a lazy curve, so she ran the boat right up the embankment. She got out and took the rope in her hands, dragging it clear out of the water and tying it tightly around a thick tree.
She slipped through some tall underbrush, reaching the deserted highway. She stayed off to the side, ready to dive back into the trees if she needed to. The only obstacle between her and her goal was an eight foot high chain link fence. As she climbed it, she couldn’t help but think about climbing the fence at her grandmother’s house as a kid to get to her friends in the woods. The memory brought a smile to her face.
She dropped to the asphalt on the other side, keeping an eye out for trouble, but all seemed quiet. There were a few puddle jumpers parked at the end of the runway, but no other vehicles nearby.
The door to the control tower was shut tight, but there was a key dangling from an elastic keychain on the knob. Sparks pulled it off and then realized there was a message scrawled across the door in permanent marker: ONE DEAD INSIDE. She was thankful for the foresight of whoever had left this to think somebody might need refuge.
She opened the door and drew her handgun, moving inside and locking it behind her. The interior was bare, just grey concrete walls and a spiral staircase that led fifty feet in the air. A shuffling sound echoed down from the top, and she pulled her machete, not wanting to risk a fight on the stairs.
She banged the handle against the metal handrail, letting the metallic clang reverberate upwards. She readied herself at the dead screech of a response, but the zombie simply dove for her, flipping over the top railing. It plummeted the whole way down, only smacking wetly off of the railing once, hitting the ground head first with a sick crack.
The zombie’s neck was a complete ninety degrees, and it stopped twitching quickly. Sparks leaned over to make sure it was dead, and noticed the official ATC badge clipped to its shirt. The name read Stevie Johnson, and the photo somewhat resembled the mangled face in front of her.
“Looks like you knew you were going to die, but wanted to go out doing something important,” she said quietly. “You did good, Stevie. You did good.” She nodded at the corpse and took a moment of silence before slamming the machete into his forehead just for good measure.
She made the long trip up the stairs to the main area of the tower. It was a ten by ten foot box with a single row of equipment along the floor to ceiling windows. She tossed her bag down on the desk at the end of the room and took a seat in the massively comfortable office chair, enjoying the three hundred and sixty degree view of the airport.
Sparks touched her earpiece. “Hey Dan, I’m in the tower.”
“Glad you made it safe,” he replied.
“Me too,” she admitted. “So look, I won’t keep you. I’m going to have a snack and get these cell phones I picked up at the gas station charging, and I’m passing out.”
He nodded. “Get some rest, Sparks.”
She touched the earpiece again, reaching into her bag for a sandwich and a bottle of water. Just as she wrapped her lips around the savory treat, the tower radio crackled.
“Kerrville tower, do you copy?” a male voice asked, and Sparks swiveled around, wide eyed. “Kerrville tower, is anybody home?”
She set the sandwich down on the desk and headed over to the mic. “This is Kerrville tower, who is this please?”
“Hey, what do you know, there is someone alive down there,” the man said, sounding relieved. “My name is Winston Conroe.”
“Well Winston Conroe,” she replied with a tone of
playfulness in her voice, “you can call me Sparks. What can I do for you on this fine apocalyptic evening?”
“I’m just calling to let you know that you need to warn your pilots to stay out of San Antonio airspace,” Winston told her. “We just flew through there and barely made it out alive.”
Sparks sombered quickly. “What the hell is going on in San Antonio?”
“The military is bombing the hell out of it,” he replied. “We got buzzed by a fighter jet that nearly knocked us out of the sky.”
She gaped. “A fighter jet to take on zombies?”
“Yeah, things must be terrible on the ground in downtown,” he mused, “because the jet fired every missile it had into the high rises down there.”
Sparks leaned on the machine, biting her lip. “My god.”
“You ain’t kidding,” Winston added. “From our vantage point, the entire city was on fire, and not just the downtown area. It looked like a group of pyromaniacs had started a thousand bonfires. So yeah, you need to let your pilots know.”
“Well Winston, I’ll level with you.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t work at the airport, but the good news is the place looks cleaned out so any pilots that could have been warned must have taken off a while ago.”
There was a pause on the other end. “If you’re not airport staff, then who are you?”
“I’m an Austin police officer,” she replied. “Or at least I was.”
“Wait,” Winston cut in, “are you that woman from the radio?”
She smiled. “Live and in person.”
“Ha, what do you know?” he asked, amused. “Good to see you’re alive and kicking! You helped a lot of people with that message.”
She shrugged. “I did what I could, Winston.”
“So if you don’t mind me asking,” he drawled, “what in the world are you doing at the Kerrville airport?”
“I don’t mind at all,” she assured him. “This is just my home away from home for the evening. I’m out here scouting for supplies with a group I fell in with.”
“Well, I hope the journey has been quiet and uneventful,” he replied thoughtfully. “At least as much as they can be given the circumstances.”
Dead Texas (Book 3): Lonesome Road Page 4