"I didn't steal it!" Baker confessed. "Really, I didn’t!"
The gunfire continued. No one flinched.
"Get out the goddamn truck!" Maria called out.
Baker hopped out and rapidly reported, "Listen lady. The guy that stole ya trucks Bleeder Bait. They caught up to him the other night... when Mac told everyone a group was forming a resistance to take back the city, I knew it had to be you guys. That’s why I'm here." He added, probably hoping his confession would cool off Maria's hot head.
Mike walked closer to Baker and asked, "Did you find your mom?"
Baker's face hardened. He lowered his eyes for a split-second and took a deep breath. He exhaled, "Bleeder bait," as if he was compelled to say it, or, as I thought, he was trying to cope with the loss of his mother while being corruptively influenced to portray the hardcore criminal as his gangbanging accomplices would have wanted.
Mac and Conrad hustled over only to take in the last of it.
"We gotta get outta here for it’s too late..." Mac suggested in a hurry. "'for we're Bleeder Bait." he finished.
"I agree." Rebekah added from behind the group in a shaded area, her face hidden beneath her hood.
She also had begun to seriously fuck with my head. It was a wonder how she could make out our conversation from her distance, through all the shooting and war cries. She was very secure with her words and judgment as if she had foreseen that moment take shape. Her head raised, and for a single half-second, I seen her eyes change color from black to silver, blinding me unconscious for at least five-to-ten seconds in a state of absentness, then coming back I was partially incoherent, as if I'd been introduced to the English language for the first time. And no one caught on to it; nor did I speak on it. Then, the thought exited my mind; it must have been a reflection.
Ann wasn't about to give up her animosity for Rebekah, "We should finish here before trying to escape," she opposed.
At the time we all needed to agree upon something, Ann would just so happen to be the person to ruin the moment. Shit can easily get F.U.B.A.R., and all it would take was one small bite from the infected to have any one of us looking to feast on the flesh and blood of anyone with a heartbeat, without a drop of remorse.
The curtain of fire continued.
Mike said, “We need to work on agreeing with something, or someone needs to lead. But with all this arguing, we might as well just give in and walk up to a Bleeder and say, take me I’m yours.”
A brief survey of the war-stricken area was only glimpses of citizens desperately fighting for their lives. Some became the main course for a collection of Bleeders. One guy was being surrounded by four muscular-built, thick, brown-haired Trackers, while Bleeders furiously engaged. Others began to fall back toward us. We were losing the war.
Sweat began to drip from Mike's forehead.
"I'm with Mac and Rebekah." I rapidly co-signed.
"What about the Resistance?" Mike shot back.
Conrad interjected, "Everyone already knows where we're headed. We can't fight without any bullets, and there isn't a gun shop anywhere around here."
"Nope," sounded a familiar voice from behind Mike.
"Pops," Mike shouted out joyfully.
Pops held a heavy MK12 SPR, his trusty .357 S&W holstered, and a camping bag strapped across his back.
The war cries from the Bleeders loudened, and the howls made by the Trackers deepened.
Pops looked around at our group and said, "But I dunn brought the gun shop wit' me. Figured y'all 'er gonna nee sum'o ammo. And sum'o help."
"Damn, I'm glad to see you. How'd you know where to find us?" Mike asked.
Everyone grew a bit happy that Pops arrived. We moved closer to the old coon while he spit out the details. He said, "It wasn't that hard to follow the trails of blood. Those son’bitch folk be leaving a pile a burning corpses wherev'r they stop; piling up some of the bodies in their mobile transports for sum odd reason are another. Made my way after a transmission saying they going out fur any Runner. They feast on each other when day tummies rubbing the wrong way. Haven’t seen none'a that yet."
Mike took a closer look at Pops MK12 SPR and said, "It was you… From the roof top…"
Pops answered, "Someone has to keep an eye on you boys."
“We’re glad you could join us.” Mike smiled for a split second.
Ann raised her .45 with built-in laser sight at Pops. His eyes widened.
“The hell is you doing?” I said
We were caught in shock.
BOCKA!
Ann fired, and took down a Bleeder about six yards away that was about to take a chunk out of the old-timer.
Pops turned to look, "Didn't see that one coming." he said, sarcastically and thankfully reporting.
“Me neither.” Ann lowered her firearm. “You owe me one, Pops.” she smiled.
“Maybe later.” he joked.
We all looked at the street to see the infected closing in; fast. Their grunts, moans and war cries were heavier; deeper.
We opened fire at the oncoming junction of Bleeders and Trackers. Another group of seven men pushed further up the street headed west, and created an opening.
Mike ordered everyone to fall in and concentrate their fire west, with the others. “Fall in!” he called out.
I took in the sounds of moans from the dead being resurrected from just inside the building. The more I got used to it, the less threatening they were.
"We gotta get everyone outta here." Mike suggested with no room for objections, raising his assault rifle, scanning the perimeter. "Now!"
The scene was wretched for as far as you could see. A quick look around, the shells popped from the firearms of men protectively surrounding defenseless women and children from the Bleeders and Trackers seeking their flesh; the untrained and desperate citizens became the victims of a mind-boggling and senseless onslaught. And newborn Bleeders, skin peeling and blood racing from their open wounds, struggled to stay up on their way out of the building… and in my direction.
I aimed my assault rifle and began firing as they came, other members of the rebellion assisted.
From out of nowhere, Pops reached into his camouflaged vest, pulled the pin off a hand grenade and chucked it into the building, shouting, “Fire in the hole.”
“You got a real nice way of warning people.” Mike said.
“You should be used to it, soldier.” Pops finished as he leisurely pulled back from the blast radius.
Everyone scattered.
Mac and Conrad made their way into the cab, loading up with the Wildes family. Maria hopped in the driver’s seat of her parents Hummer. Mike, Ann, Baker and I piled into the Hummer, and Pops hustled to get in the driver’s seat of one of a blue pick-up truck as Rebekah got into the driver’s seat of a white one.
“Heads up!” Pops called.
The grenade exploded, sending the newborn Bleeders and debris flying back inside the building, and their detached ligaments of the slain outside and onto the pavement before us.
Rebekah swung the pick-up around and scooped up women and children who were left on the battlefield, a few armed men protectively jumped aboard. The remaining survivors surrounded the vehicles, and we made our way toward the hospital.
There were less than a hundred of us, including the thirty women and children piled in the pick-up with Rebekah. Those who remained behind had to of been family members or self-proclaimed, death-defying, death-dealing mercenaries; for whatever reasons they had for staying behind in a losing battle was their own calls and wishes. We'd hoped every man would rally with us against Sworn and his soldiers, but perhaps they were on their own missions and held their own agendas. Hopefully, they made peace with God before all this begun; or hopefully they will before it ends.
The successive shots fired. Continuous war cries and echoing screams slowly faded behind us. If that wasn't enough to cause post-traumatic stress syndrome, along with the rest of the week’s events, then what was? My heart
was becoming more like that of the infected. It was becoming unresponsive, darkened and cold. The only difference was that it was still beating and I didn't crave human flesh... yet.
CHAPTER XIII
We were in the clear. Our silent and hungry convoy was all eyes and ears, curtailing our surroundings. We cautiously maneuvered like a newly formed militia on enemy grounds as we paraded the way toward our destination. Then, we came to a freezing point at the edge of Centre City. Walls of dead Trackers and Bleeders mixed in with sandbags about six feet high blocked the three streets leading out the area.
“If it ain’t one thing, it’s another obstacle.” I said.
“Yeah, this time it’s a pile of corpses.” Mike returned. “Let’s get out and see what’s going on.”
“What? And push them over? Let’s just run through it.”
“Nah… we don’t wanna do that… We don’t even know if it’s a trap.”
“Then why touch it?”
“I never said that; you did!”
We unloaded the vehicles.
Maria and Ann were on the other side of the Hummer with Baker. Rebekah made her way to Mac and Conrad, who stayed with the Wildes and others in our squad near Macs taxi. There were no dead human bodies or signs of a gun-fight; who ever built the walls did it to keep the infected and the soldiers out, and whoever it was must have been somewhere nearby.
"Someone made barriers." I said, as if I’d just seen it for the first time.
"No shit, Inspector." Mike returned, rather loud. "But who made them and where are they?"
Pops walked up and inserted, "Now these people here put their trust in y'all an' are waiting for you boys to make a decision on what to do before them soldiers or the infected catch up to us. We spend our time worry'n bout who built the damn walls an’ we'll never make it to the hospital. We need ta find a way round it..."
The group mumbled amongst themselves.
Mike walked over to a group of young men in hoods and began talking. He pointed toward some nearby homes and the hoods went knocking on doors.
Mike made his way back to me and said, “Someone has to be around here… maybe watching us right now.”
Rebekah casually found her way to us, saying, "The women and children aren't going. There's no telling what's beyond these walls." pointing the way.
"Why'd ya bring 'em in the first place? I never intended on women and children being with us." Mike answered.
"I wasn't going to leave them back there. I told them I was taking them to a safe place away from all the chaos."
"Where is safe, Rebekah?"
"Anywhere far away from those sirens is safe. I was thinking we can regroup at the docks, or somewhere near and just off the road." she looked to Pops and said, "You said it was a safe route considering the blood trails and burning corpses, right?"
Pops answered, "I didn't say it was safe, but I guess it may be. There might be some beat cops or soldiers’ hide'n in the dark. But I guess ya can handle yaself, considering ya daddy's the infamous Dr. Morgan."
We all knew who Dr. Michael Morgan was, but Pops had never met Rebekah and knew.
I intervened, "Even though the passage might be clear of the infected doesn't mean it's clear of soldiers. What if—"
Rebekah made it her intent to cut my wisdom, "No time for what if, Dale. Think women and children. Besides, I’m pretty sure they already ran through Maison. "
"Ann, Maria and Baker should go too." Mike advised with a change of heart.
"I'm staying!" Ann said, coming from the front of the Hummer.
"Me too," Maria inserted, looking to me as her protector, fear in her eyes you could sense from a mile away.
"They killed my moms, Bee. I'm not just gonna sit around." Baker added, stepping from behind Ann and Maria.
Rebekah looked at Mike, "A few of the men are coming with us for support. They'll be in Mac's cab." she turned to walk off.
Mac waltzed up behind Rebekah as she made her way back to the women and children, looked Mike directly in the eyes and said, "Conrad, Frank and myself decided that we'll ride it out for the sake of the city." then he turned to Ann, Maria and Baker, who all stood in front of the Hummer, and finished with, "It's safer for the three of you to leave with Rebekah. She'll take you through a safe passage thru the city and we'll meet up near the docks...” then spoke directly to Baker, and said “No offence, but you should let the men handle this one."
Ann wasn't feeling Mac's southern hospitable lecture of safety. She furiously objected, as if it was her – instead of Sarah – that was in a long term relationship with Mike, and retorted, "Don't leave me, Mike." then looked at me, "You side with him too?"
I answered, “Yep.” I didn't want the women going. I didn't want to see Maria go and me not being able to help her either, but I'd have hated for her to stay and something happened out of my control. It was a tough call but an easy one to make, "You need to go with Rebekah. All three of you..." I concluded.
Maria immediately formed tears in her eyes and rushed to give me a farewell hug that was passionate enough to make my little solider to rise at attention. She gave me a long-lasting French kiss as if we were lovers that were ordered never to see each other again, then confidentially, in the moment of our embrace she said, "I'm not going to leave the city without you."
I spoke softly back, "You better not." and smiled, seeming I've found the right woman for me.
I observed Ann as she made her way to Mike, not knowing if she was going to suck his face or tell him about himself. She said something in a low tone, and turned to walk off.
Mike grabbed her hand. "Don't walk off from me like that," he said.
Ann swung around, and nose-to-nose with Mike, she said loud and clear, "You're just going to let me go too, huh?" just as if she was almost referring to his relationship with Sarah; or something else they've yet to mention.
Maria broke free from me and made her way to Ann and said, "There'll be time for all that." and stripped Ann's hand from Mike.
Mike didn't say anything, he just looked at me like I wasn't supposed to see or hear what went on – but I did. He leisurely walked over to Baker, put his palm on his curly head and said, "Take care of the ladies for me, will ya?"
Baker had a frustrated look of embarrassment on his face. Then he straightened his face and looked sternly into Mike's eyes and disappointingly nodded his head in agreement. Mike gave Baker a brotherly hug, fist-bumped and said his goodbyes; and we all embraced, one-by-one, until the women and children were ready to depart.
Mike stopped Rebekah, "Hey! Travel opposite of the sirens. And just in case... thanks."
She distantly smirked, "We'll meet again sooner than you think. We know where you're headed and you know where we'll be. Good luck." she hugged Mike and I again, then got back into the pick-up truck with the women, children, and a few good men. And they headed north.
It was miserable to see them go, but not knowing what the future held for any of us, the whole ordeal was coming to a conclusion whichever way you'd look at it; either we were going out in a blaze of glory, the women and children would successfully make it to the docks and escape once they've learned of our failing attempt, or we would make it out alive and meet up with the women and children, make sure to escape to safety and let the rest of the world know what came in with the storm.
"Ya know you can get'a better veu from atop the buildings, don'tcha?" Pops pointed to the sloped rooftop of a single level home.
Mike thought for a few seconds and said, "Your getaway."
Pops smiled.
"Aren't you a little old for scaling buildings?" Mike joked.
Pops scanned the rooftops, "Not after I saw ‘em climb wit my own two eyes."
Three other men heard their plan. Two slim fellows held hunting rifles; one slightly built – all wearing hoods – had binoculars and went to other rooftops to scan the area.
"Go, go gadget legs." I laughed at Mike – getting a few chuckles out of our group
– as he made his way to the rooftop.
Once on the shingles, Mike put his eye in the scope. He lowered his rifle, looked at me, grinned, and then pulled a fifth of cognac out of his flack. He tilted the drink back and lost his balance, dropping it on the blind side of the sloped roof.
I laughed.
Pops shook his head.
Mike chased the bottle to the blind side of the roof.
Mike was beginning to lose it. He had a close relationship with Pops, so I attempted to let Pops in on what could have been going on inside Mike’s head, and said, "He lost his girlfriend and co-worker at the beginning of all this you know."
"What does he say about it?"
"He hasn't. I figure when he's ready he'll tell me. Ann is Sarah's best friend and she hasn't said a word either. I'm sure it's on their mind, but with so much going on I never found the right opportunity to bring it up, you know."
"By the looks of it, I’d swear to it Ann was his sweetheart…Well, did ya see 'em? Sarah and the co-worker?"
"Only Fisher."
"What'd he look like?"
"You scattered his brains across the roof earlier."
“Hmmm… Handsome fella… A little too hairy for me.”
Knowing Pops was a jokester, I cut the conversation short right there.
Mike still hadn't come from the other side of the roof, and growing impatient, I walked over to see what was taking him so long.
The sirens started again, and it was difficult to make out where it came from.
"Mike." I called out on the next street.
No answer. No Bleeders. No Trackers. No soldiers.
Mike's bottle was laid near the back door, boarded up with wood but slightly cracked, as if someone had just recently moved it. Mike had a reason to step inside; but why would he leave the bottle?
I walked inside, calling out his name under my breath.
The kitchen was empty. A draft came from a door leading into the basement. The wooden boards that covered the windows had little holes made in them; I could see the vehicles and the armed citizens through them.
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