Man Eaters (Book 2): The Horde

by Linda Kay Silva

Fletcher and Hunter kept firing, but the movement of the bus knocked them both forward, allowing the group of men to close in.

  “Shit,” Roper said, shooting off errant shots. “Come on!” As she took off, Ferdie and Churchill were right behind her. “Keep shooting!” She yelled, pulling her sidearm and shooting in the direction of the raiders.

  As three returned fire, she knew they were doomed. There were simply too many, and the bus’s reverse speed was too slow. They would catch up to Zoe sooner rather than later.

  “Stop and aim! Stop and aim!” Seeing they were close enough, Roper dropped to one knee, took a deep breath and fired, taking out a heavyset man with a bullet through the neck.

  Just as Fletcher and Hunter regained their footing, Zoe pulled forward, nearly running over two men who had reached the accordion doors. She was doing everything she could to keep the men from gaining access to the bus, but it was a battle she was going to lose.

  That was when Roper saw it.

  A black minivan came barreling out of nowhere and sped around the bus, kicking up dirt and sand like a dust devil.

  “Get down!” Roper yelled, dropping to her belly.

  The car had three rifles sticking out the left hand side window, and they easily picked off any aggressors within range, dropping half a dozen in the blink of an eye with heavy machine gun artillery.

  “Cover them!” Roper yelled, going up on one knee. She sighted one man aiming at the black van, so she slowly squeezed the trigger and sent him to his death. Her ammo was running low but they couldn’t afford to have her out of the game.

  Churchill managed to take another out, and by the time Fletcher and Hunter regained their footing, the outlaws turned tail, running back into Roper’s fire where they were mowed down one-by-one by Roper’s people.

  Shots were being fired everywhere. It was mass confusion, dozens of rifle fire, and plenty of death. Once the smoke cleared, the people in the black van withdrew their rifles and drove right up to Roper, who kept her rifle trained on them.

  When the door opened, Z.Z. Top got out with his hands up.

  “You?” Roper asked, lowering her rifle. “Well, this is quite a surprise.”

  “We took a vote, ma’am, and my guys outvoted me. We’d like to join up with you.”

  “And not a moment too soon,” Churchill muttered.

  Roper raised her weapon and shot a hostile who was trying to get up. She made sure he was truly dead.

  “Looks like a good thing, too,” Z.Z. Top continued. “This thing was turning ugly fast.”

  Dallas appeared from the Fuchs, her arm bandaged up. “Henry?”

  He bowed. “At your service, ma’am.” She extended her left hand to him. “I owe you a debt of thanks.” Before he replied, there came a THWUP sound, followed by a thud of a body falling on a car hood.

  “Mind if we get to a safer area?” Dallas asked.

  “Right behind the bus, ma’am.”

  Ten minutes later, Roper pulled the Fuchs over, as did the bus and the black van. People spilled out of all vehicles, hugging, crying, a couple vomited. Everyone chattered about, a few tried coming to Dallas, but Churchill waved them off. Fletcher and Hunter stood at the ready, and Roper saluted them when they made eye contact. Both father and son saluted her back.

  Their group had suffered two casualties besides Dallas’s forearm and a small gash on Hunter’s forehead from falling forward. One young kid took a bullet through his shoulder and a woman sprained her wrist falling forward when the bus lurched.

  “Everyone okay in here?” Dallas asked, stepping into the bus.

  When told about the wounded, she sent them to Jamie to be tended to.

  “Mind if we have a word?” Henry asked when she exited the bus.

  Henry and Dallas walked out into a field while Roper and the others calmed the bus riders.

  “Thank you so much,” Dallas said softly. “That ambush—”

  “Came outta nowhere like they always do. No worries, ma’am. Like I said, my fellers outvoted me. They like the idea of fighting and they’re pretty damn good at it.”

  Dallas watched the small red dot beneath the gauze slowly spread. She’d already lost a lot of blood and was beginning to feel the effects as her vision blurred and her legs felt like soggy noodles. “And you don’t?”

  Henry grinned, though it was barely visible through his beard. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t see them capable of following a woman. Lotta guys are still set their old ways.”

  “And they aren’t?” Dallas blinked several times to focus.

  He shrugged. “They wanted to come, Dallas, and join you and your folks. If you’re amenable to that, I reckon we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “We need good fighters who can follow orders and work as a team.”

  Henry beckoned for his men to come over. They did, along with Churchill, Ferdie, and Zoe, who brought up the rear. “Fellas, ya’ll voted to come to Angola with Dallas and her crew. Dallas, these are my cousins, Otis, Kevin, JP, and Frankie.”

  Dallas shook each extended hand with her left hand. “Thank you for helping us out here.”

  Otis took his filthy John Deere baseball cap off his head. He was bald. “Ma’am, we seen you fight. You got a warrior’s spirit, for sure. You managed to get your hands on that Fuchs, your people are disciplined and trained good, and we’d like to start killing these things. I can follow a good leader. Don’t matter what body parts ya got.”

  Dallas smiled slightly. “Excellent. Let me just say, if you think or have any notion about taking the Fuchs from us, there’s already a whole trail of dead bodies who have tried.”

  Henry laughed. “We don’t want your car, ma’am. We want a chance to get our country back.”

  Otis nodded. “Time to reunite the good old US of A.”

  “Then welcome aboard, Henry. Welcome to all of you.”

  As they walked back, Dallas’s arm throbbed and burned. She wished like hell Butcher was there so she could stitch up the jagged wound made by the cleaver.

  Butcher.

  Her face floated in Dallas’s mind’s eye as she wondered, “Where are you guys now?”

  ****

  When she finally saw the small boat escaping the listing ship, Butcher thought she might faint with relief. “I see him!” She cried, pointing into the orange darkness.

  “Where?” Einstein asked, taking the binoculars from her.

  “Through those trees to the right of the reflection of the moon.”

  “I see him! He’s booking out of there.” Einstein handed the glasses back. “And I thought Roper was the daredevil.”

  Butcher kept a close eye out on the small boat. “She is, but at least when she does it, it’s a calculated risk. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what he could be thinking. Blowing up an enemy military vessel? Has he lost his marbles?”

  “At least we get to find out.”

  Butcher lowered the binoculars and tilted her head at Einstein. “I’ll try to remember that when I’m kicking the crap out of him.”

  “Go easy on him. He did it for you.”

  “Don’t get all sentimental because he went mental, kid.” Butcher handed the binoculars to Einstein and told him to beat it. “Get a few hours of rest. We leave at daybreak.”

  “Roger that.”

  When Luke pulled up in small rubber boat grinning that little boy smile of his and giving her two thumbs up, every ounce of anger in her dissipated. Her knees weakened as he climbed out of the boat, soot and grime covering his face and clothes.

  He was the one.

  In all the chaos, in all the deep sadness, in all the blood and violence and danger, they’d found each other. Yes, she loved him. Yes, he drove her crazy at times, but she had no doubt there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect everyone.

  That sinking ship proved it.

  Holding his hands up in surrender, Luke stepped back. “I would have told you if I’d known that was what I was going to—”

 
Butcher pulled him roughly to her and squeezed him so hard he could barely breathe.

  “You scared the shit out of me.”

  He buried his face in her neck. “That makes two of us.”

  Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered tightly, “Just came to you, did it?”

  He chuckled. “Like manna from the heavens. I knew you’d understand.”

  Butcher leaned back. “Understand? Understand? Are you fucking nuts?” She started to stride away from him when he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Now wait a minute, Butcher—”

  Whirling around, Butcher punched him with all her might in his stomach, and he doubled over as all the air exited his lungs, one knee on the deck of the boat.

  She glared at him, her fists doubled up at her sides. “First off, don’t you ever grab me. Ever. Secondly, I tell you you’re going to be a dad so you decide to run out there and risk your life? And for what? Are you crazy, Luke? Have you lost your mind? You sank an enemy vessel. You have no idea what they’ll do now. None. You poked a bear in the eye!”

  He struggled to get a breath, so she kept going.

  “The first war we have to fight isn’t with them! It isn’t out there! Dallas is gonna kick your ass when she finds out. What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Slowly rising from the deck and putting his hands on his knees, Luke tried to breathe. That was when Butcher saw the blood on his shirt. Her anger went from boiling over to simmering.

  “Tell me that’s someone else’s blood.”

  Luke huffed a bit more and then shook his head. “Not mine…other guy’s.”

  “I see. Dallas is going to go ballistic. You know that, right? You better have a different answer for her than you were ad libbing.” She shook her head. “Jesus Christ.”

  When he finally caught his breath, he said, “Seemed like…a good idea…at the time.”

  Jamming her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Did it? Really? At what time? When you were there? When you were going there or when you and Einstein decided that it might be fun to kick a sleeping giant?”

  When he looked up at her, his smile floored her.

  “How are you grinning? You’ve clearly lost your mind.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I did, but it sure as shit felt better than running away like a little girl. You want me to be a daddy? Then let me protect my family in the way I see fit. You want me to let you do your thing? Well give me the same courtesy.”

  Butcher opened her mouth to reply then closed it. Instead, she pulled him back to her and pressed her head against him. “Damn you. I hate when you’re right.” Pulling back, she kissed him softy. “The truth is, as pissed off as I am—and I still am—I’m just glad you got back in one piece.”

  “So am I. It was dicey there for a minute, but I managed to get out in time.”

  “You know, even I won’t be able to save you from Dallas. She’s gonna kill you.”

  Luke leaned away and laid his palm on her cheek. “I’ll worry about her later. Einstein get back okay?”

  Pressing her cheek into his palm, she nodded. “Just sent him to bed. I think he’s aged ten years waiting for you, but he’s fine.”

  Luke looked down at the bags on the deck. “Time to see what all we grabbed. You know, I went to the ship…”

  “Oh, I knew exactly why you went to that boat. You went after drugs and other medical supplies I might need a few months from now.” She looked in Luke’s boat at the weapons. “Nice haul.” There were weapons and ammo belts scattered along the bottom of the boat. “I understand going for the supplies, babe, I really do, but what prompted your destructive streak?”

  A slight blush crept across his face. “Lack of personnel. I swear to God, there was nobody on it. It was barely even a skeleton crew. The more I crept around, the more I realized how easy it would be to sabotage it. It was easier than any mission I’ve ever been on. Many were asleep. A bunch were watching a video, another group was in the gym, but getting to the engine room was a piece of cake. Killed a few guys on my way to blowing the engines sky high.” He grinned. “It was fun.”

  Butcher could only shake her head. “Fun. And you did this because?”

  Luke scooped water from a bucket into his palm and drank three handfuls. “Honestly? Because it’s time they know we’re not just alive, but alive and kicking. If we don’t do something to prove that American gumption still exists, they’ll walk right in here and capture us all on their way to taking over our country.”

  “And you thought now was a good time for that?”

  Shrugging, Luke reached into the skiff and started hauling belts out. “In the end, I’m a soldier, baby. An A.W.O.L. soldier, yes, but that doesn’t mean the service doesn’t run in my veins or that this country’s safety isn’t still my first…well…one of my top priorities. My job is still what it always has been: to protect my country.”

  Kissing his wet mouth, Butcher clamped her eyes shut to prevent any tears from escaping. “Your loyalty is one of the things I love most about you, so believe it or not, I get it. I really do. I’m just not so sure the timing was the best.”

  “If not now, when?”

  They stood in complete silence, both thinking about the life Butcher carried within her.

  “I love you, demolition man.”

  Luke kissed her long and deep. “I love you right back, Mama.”

  ****

  “We need to sew this up,” Roper said, examining Dallas’s sliced forearm. The cut ran lengthwise across her forearm for nearly seven inches. It was a deep gash, which continued to bleed, so Roper kept direct pressure on it while Churchill handed her the last of the gauze.

  “Just use the gauze. Butcher can sew it up when we reach Angola.”

  Roper studied Dallas’s face. She was pale and her hand was shaking slightly. “Fine, but I’ll drive. You lie down and keep still. Churchill, co-pilot. Ferdie, apply direct pressure. Jamie, you are my eyes back there. Yell out if you see anything.”

  Dallas smiled weakly. “You’re so bossy. I think I’m turned on.”

  Roper shook her head. “And you’re so pale. Go on. I got this.” She scanned the other faces in the Beast looking back at her expectantly. “We got this.”

  And they did.

  The rest of the way to Angola was smooth sailing. Dallas slept and Roper sent Churchill to the turret with the directions, “One zombie, one bullet. No excuses.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” After he climbed up the ladder, Churchill took one shot and Roper watched a lone zombie crumple to the ground as she drove over it. He was becoming a better shot.

  They were right about the hordes moving to the northeast, following the groups of migrating humans. This would make the zombies easier to exterminate.

  It was a solid plan, especially with an army impervious to the epidemic. Still, what they needed was a way to communicate with others about their findings and where they were. The flag idea at the tower was a good one. At this point, the lack of communication would hinder the rebellion…would keep the survivors apart.

  She’d have to change that.

  They needed a way to bring survivors together not only to grow their army, but to also grow their population. They needed so much to create a stable living environment, and Roper hoped like hell Angola Prison would supply some of it.

  “Take a right up here,” Ferdie said. He’d sat on the edge of his seat the entire time, as if co-pilot was a super serious and important job. She liked him. With his shaggy corkscrew hair and soul patch, he looked more like a surfer than an electrical engineer. In a post apocalyptic world, looks were incredibly deceiving.

  “You seem nervous, Ferd. Whatcha thinking?”

  He cracked his knuckles as he always did. “I am. What we’re proposing has the potential to be a disaster. After eight months of escapability in the bayou, we’re moving to a location that is secure as long as we keep it that way. It will take just one mistake, just one slip, and we’re all fucked. So, yea
h, I’m nervous. Personally, I like the idea of always having a way out.”

  “Fair enough. The key, as Dallas said, lies in quarantining, one hundred percent of the newbies, one hundred percent of the time. Every time anyone has contact with the undead, they will be stripped down and examined. With the right protocols in place, we can do this.”

  “I hope you’re right, because if you’re not, this will be just one giant death march.” He pointed as they neared the entrance. “There’s the front gate.” Roper slowed to a stop about half a mile from the first gate.

  “Ugh. Do you smell that?”

  Ferdie pulled his t-shirt over his mouth and nose. “Nasty ass smell of rotting corpses.”

  “All clear down there,” came Churchill’s voice, followed by his footsteps on the metal ladder. “Lotta skeletons though, and a buncha eaters milling about the yard.”

  “How many?

  “Fifty? More or less.”

  Roper put the Fuchs in park before checking on Dallas in the back. Blood had seeped through the gauze. “Wake up, love. We’re here.” Roper looked up at Churchill, who shrugged. They might not be able to wait for Butcher.

  Dallas woke up quickly, her face still pale. “Angola?”

  Roper nodded. “Almost to the front gate. I figured you might want a meeting before we go in. There are man eaters cruising around the yard.”

  Dallas struggled to her feet.

  “How does it feel?”

  Perspiration dotted her forehead. “It’s throbbing, burning, and aching. Other than that, it’s all good.” Inhaling deeply, she hit the ramp button and faced the front of the bus where Fletcher and Hunter both stood at the ready.

  “Want us to stay up here?” Fletcher yelled down from the top of the bus.

  Dallas shook her head. “Churchill will be in the turret. I need everyone present.”

  After Roper explained to Henry’s van boys what was going on, everyone got out of their vehicles and stretched before gathering in a circle and waiting for Dallas’s directives.

  “You up for this?” Roper whispered, looking at the blood that had spread across the gauze.

  Dallas nodded. “Don’t much have a choice.” Clearing her throat, Dallas started, “As you can see, Angola Prison is quite large. As you can smell, there’s been a lot of death here. For everyone’s safety, the CGIs are going in to the main building first. We will clean it out of any undead in there and recon the area. No doubt there are going to be a lot of dead bodies in there, which is that lovely aroma of death you are smelling. Our main concern is making sure the rest of you are safe, so you’re going to need to be patient.”