“You think that will work?” Rolf asked the empty air near his head. He turned back to Miller. “Walter says it is a very good idea.”
“Shitfire, they’re almost at that point now,” said Scratch. “Did you see that meat puppet posturing for the pasty-faced law dog? They’re both ready to skull-fuck each other. I say let ‘em go at it. Fuckers.”
Miller smiled. “You know, I almost got used to ex-biker Scratch. Now you’re all scruffy and pissed off again. I like that.”
Scratch grinned. “It’s still you and me, woman.”
“Okay, that gives me a great idea. Do you think you can pull off the role of a bad boy biker one more time? I think we need help from that old Scratch right about now.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Scratch replied, puffing up in a surly imitation of the other biker they had seen. “It’s in my genes. What’s the plan?”
She quickly told them her idea.
“I don’t know. That’s a tad risky, isn’t it?” Scratch frowned. His posture sagged a bit. “You ain’t wrong often, but…”
“Yeah, I’ll allow it’s quite a risk,” Miller said,” but so is running out there to try and commandeer that cruiser by force. Once they all turn around and start firing we’d be hamburger meat. Like you said, their rear will become the front. This at least has some chance of success.”
Scratch turned to Sheppard. “Karl, are you on board?”
Sheppard seemed ready to vomit or pass out. He was hurting again for sure. A chilling thought passed through her mind. Jesus, did you get bit and not tell us? Or not notice? But then the dog would be growling, right?
“I trust you, Penny.” That was all Sheppard could manage to say.
Miller studied the group. There were no more objections. “Let’s do this.”
Rolf led Sheppard back into the tunnel mouth where the two of them hid out of sight. Dudley followed his master. Miller went to the tunnel doorway and stood by the corner. She could be seen from outside, but only if someone was looking for her. She held the M-4 across her chest in an unconscious imitation of Rat. She was ready to use the rifle, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to. If she did, the noise would surely bring the bikers and police down on their heads. That would be a catastrophe. Miller stood guard. She waited.
Scratch scrambled up the ravine wall. Miller watched him go, silently praying for well-being. When he was high enough to lean on the edge, he poked his head up above ground level. He shouted at the biker by the cop car.
“Hey, brother!”
The two men above him turned as one, both startled.
“Coyote needs the whole club inside the warehouse right fucking now,” Scratch hollered. “Jesus. Can you believe this shit? These motherfucking pigs are trying to arrest him!”
“What?” The drunken biker had a surprisingly high-pitched voice.
“You heard me,” Scratch shouted. “It’s time to participate, brother. Let’s defend the colors. Go!”
Scratch ducked back out of sight. The young cop panicked. He went for his weapon and started shouting “Don’t move. Freeze!”
“You fuckers,” screamed the high-voiced biker. “Eat shit!”
Miller could hear two pairs of boots running through the mud. One shot was fired. Fists and shouting and grunts of pain followed. The biker and the officer were going at each other like mad men.
Scratch stuck his head up again. He smiled and waved at Miller. This time, instead of dropping down the hill to retreat, Scratch continued the rest of the way up and over the edge. That was the signal Miller had been waiting for. She motioned for Rolf and Sheppard to follow. Rolf came out of the shadows. He was carrying Sheppard, exactly as planned. Dudley trotted along beside them as if excited to see what would happen next.
Miller led them to the right of the tunnel door and up the ramp that went to the edge of the road. She could already hear the police cruiser rolling in the gravel above her head. It was close, and to the right. She urged the men forward.
“Motherfuckers!”
The racket overhead told her the fight was spreading. Someone else fired, and other men shot back. Men were screaming orders and shouting profanities and yelling back and forth things like put the gun down, freeze, drop it. The situation was raging out of control. The hate had spread like a forest fire.
Miller, Rolf, Sheppard, Scratch, and the dog made it to street level in fifteen seconds, though each of those seconds felt like a hundred years to Miller. They had so little time to successfully pull this off. Somehow Rolf managed to juggle both Sheppard and his weapon and make it up the slope.
When they were at the same level as the cruiser, Miller took in the scene. Some of the bikers and policemen were standing at the entrance to the warehouse, facing off and arguing. Others were firing warning shots into the ground or high into the air. They had so many weapons they were afraid to fully go for it, because the result would be a slaughter. Fistfights had broken out. The cop and biker who had been watching the car were rolling around in the mud fighting. Some other men were trying to pull them apart.
The enemy was occupied with the turmoil in his own ranks. The plan had worked perfectly. They were oblivious now, but Miller was fully aware that the opportunity wouldn’t last long. There were too many pairs of eyes that could spot them and turn the tide. They’d have to move fast to get away.
Scratch pulled up in the police cruiser. He already had the back door open. Rolf got to the cruiser and practically threw Sheppard inside, and then dove in after. Dudley obediently jumped in behind the two of them. He sat on the back seat and barked for joy. The noise went unnoticed in the tumult.
Miller went around the hood of the cruiser, trailing her palm on the metal, her eyes still on the chaos across the street. She opened the passenger door. The uneasy truce between the bikers and the law had come apart. Men were still screaming and threatening to shoot and probably would any second. She couldn’t hear anything else that they were saying and didn’t care. She thought about shooting one of the bikers in the leg to kick things off. When she did, someone else was bound to shoot back, creating an instant crossfire and perhaps starting a firefight that would wipe them all out. That would be cold blooded as hell, but it would add to her team’s chances of survival.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Scratch didn’t hesitate. “Penny, come on. Don’t just stand there. Get in.”
Miller jumped into the cruiser, and slammed the door without thinking. The moment had passed. They would just have to run for it.
“Hey, wait, look,” came a shout from the garage. “What the fuck are those people doing?”
“Stop,” a man called.
Someone else screamed, “It’s them!”
“We’ve been made,” said Scratch from the driver’s seat. The engine was still running. He threw the cruiser into gear and slammed his door. “Buckle up, kids.”
Scratch floored the accelerator without waiting. The huge engine roared. The car hopped forward and they were racing away in an instant. Scratch struggled for control at first. The cruiser fishtailed down the muddy road but when they hit the pavement the tires did finally catch. Scratch whooped for joy. The power was incredible. It was like being strapped to a rocket.
“Are they following us?” asked Sheppard, still sounding weak and tired.
Scratch swerved around an old wreck that hadn’t been cleared from the road. They clipped it, denting the patrol car, and just continued on. He was doing seventy down the open stretch before anyone could blink.
“Following us?” Scratch said. “Gee, what do you think, Karl?”
“We’ll be fine,” said Miller. “We have a big head start and they are disorganized and confused. Just don’t slow down for a damn picnic or anything.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
The cruiser picked up speed. Scratch saw another wreck and swerved again, but this time he leaned into it and timed the gas perfectly. Scratch was a great driver, of course, and out on the highway they h
it 110 mph, edged past that, and in no time the warehouse and garage and then whole damn area had been left far behind.
Miller felt relieved, though she also knew that their reprieve was temporary. They couldn’t stay on the run forever. Not out on some lonely stretch of two-lane highway with no town for another hundred miles. And yet that’s exactly what they’d have to find some way to do. Miller didn’t say anything. She let Scratch go for distance and take full advantage of the straightaway. She studied the dash and the GPS and opened the glove compartment looking for maps. At least in a cop car they were probably safe from random drones. Well, for the time being, anyway.
“Where to, boss?” Scratch grinned.
“Just make them eat dust for a long while. We’ll stop at the next town, wherever the hell that is, and look for another car. Assuming we last that long.”
Rolf was muttering and chewing and licking his lips. Dudley was napping without a care in the world. Sheppard was trying to rest.
Miller leaned back in her seat. She was thirsty as well as bone tired. Not that any of that mattered. They were all thirsty and weary and Sheppard needed medical attention and Rolf was demented and the dog needed some food too, but she would have to deal with all those things later, maybe in the next town, once she’d ensured their continued survival. Right now she just needed to keep her people alive.
She had her duty.
EPILOGUE
The conference room was dark, the only light source a large, flat-screen monitor on the far wall. The image it displayed was a bird’s eye view from a drone stationed one thousand feet above the ground. The little craft was flying three miles behind a stolen police cruiser, ostensibly the one containing Sheriff Miller and her companions. Lowlying clouds partially obscured the view at times, and at the moment the screen was white and streaked with water vapor.
“Can’t we get a better angle?” Charlotte Williams sounded upset. “Or at least zero in and keep them in the frame?”
Crespi reached for a telephone handset. “I will call the pilot, but their standing orders are to give us the best view possible without revealing their presence. This is probably as good as it is likely to get, at least for today.”
“Just tell the pilot to be careful. We can’t afford to lose them again,” Dr. Williams said. They couldn’t risk going lower and being spotted. Sheriff Miller had to believe she was escaping. That better suited their purposes. “They have to stop sometime. Let’s tell the boots on the ground to back off a bit. They’re definitely heading here, to Mountain Home, and we have the entire city in our back pocket. As long as the Demons and the Idaho State Police don’t kill them or each other first, they won’t get away.”
As Crespi punched numbers into the phone, the view from the drone shuddered in a strange way. The unmanned aircraft dipped, righted, and a long trail of fire shot from one of the wings. A small dot raced ahead and then arced down, trailing a thin cloud of smoke.
“What just happened?” Dr. Williams’s voice rose to a shriek. “Damn it! Who ordered them to fire on that car? Tell them to stand down at once. I told you, Crespi, we need those people alive!”
“I know, I know.”
Dr. Williams stood up, knocking the executive chair backwards. She watched helplessly as a second missile launched, neatly following the first one toward their target. The firepower of a drone like this was awesome to behold. The police car would be blown sky high. No one would survive.
“Oh, God,” Dr. Williams muttered, revealing weakness for the first time in years. “This cannot be happening.”
Crespi was on the phone. He was shouting about aborting the strike and destroying the weapons in the air before they could reach their target.
On the flat-screen television, the tiny Hellfire missiles reached their target.
A small red-orange puff in the far distance announced that the first missile had exploded. It was followed closely by the second. Crespi stopped screaming. The strike was already over.
Dr. Williams leaned over with her palms flat on the console. She watched the countryside below shift as the drone raised its nose and headed for home. The screen went white as the drone gained height and then black as the camera feed switched off. Dr. Williams turned on the overhead lights and faced Crespi. Despite the circumstances, her voice was preternaturally calm.
“What just happened, Miguel?”
Crespi shook his head and shrugged. He did not meet her gaze. “The pilot doesn’t know, Charlotte. The missiles were fired on someone else’s command.”
“Find out who did this!” Dr. Williams screamed, startling Crespi. He returned to the phone with trembling hands.
The door opened. Raymond D’Amore entered, a look of victory on his face.
“You did this.”
D’Amore spread his arms, showed his palms and adopted a shocked, innocent look. “Oh, come on, Charlotte. Don’t drag me into your little nightmare. I came back to give you a bit of news.”
Annoyed, she ignored his obvious dodge. She spoke calmly. “You arrogant bastard, you’ve destroyed years of hard work with one foolish mistake. Who gave you the authority to fire on that car?”
“I think it would behoove you to look after your own welfare, Charlotte.” D’Amore walked closer and handed her a folder with a sheet stapled on top. “I just spoke with the Secretary. You are no longer chairman of this committee. And if I have anything to say in the matter, this incident will also mark the end of your career.”
Dr. Williams snatched the folder out of his hand. She opened it and read the full document. The memo summary was direct and clear. It relieved her of her responsibilities.
She lowered the file and stared at D’Amore with a cold expression. “This isn’t signed.”
“And yet it is official, I assure you.”
“We’ll see about that.” Dr. Williams pushed D’Amore out of the way. She walked briskly out of the conference room still carrying the file. The door closed behind her with a small click. D’Amore watched her go without comment.
Miguel Crespi remained behind. He released a chest full of air. He regarded the taller man for a time and finally allowed a smile to cross his face. “Well, that went even better than expected.”
D’Amore did not return the smile. “Don’t start patting yourself on the back, Miguel. If you had supported me from the beginning instead of Charlotte, we could have avoided this entire mess.”
Crespi’s face fell. “Raymond, I was always in your corner, I just…”
D’Amore turned to leave. He was enjoying the moment. He placed his hand on the doorknob. “Save it for the inquiry.”
Crespi began to panic. “Inquiry?”
“Of course. Don’t be an idiot. That bitch is going to take this whole issue right to the President, which is exactly what we want her to do. We’ve already leaked our version of the facts. Everyone will duck and cover from the shitstorm that is on the way. She’ll get so bogged down in red tape that by the time she can so much as get an appointment with the Chief of Staff, we’ll already have everything in place.” D’Amore opened the door. “Meet me in my office in twenty minutes. Bring everything we have on the serum 26-alpha. You and I have some serious housecleaning to do.”
Without another word, D’Amore turned and left the conference room. Crespi watched as the door closed behind him. He gathered up the files and stuffed them into a briefcase. Alone in the silent conference room, he turned away from the hidden security camera and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
Everything was indeed going precisely as planned.
Other Books
by Steven W. Booth and Harry Shannon
The Hungry
Meet Sheriff Penny Miller of Flat Rock, Nevada. Miller is the kind of woman who will do whatever it takes to protect those she is sworn to serve, even when that includes a murderous biker, her wimpy ex-husband, a unit of incompetent National Guardsmen, and the scientist responsible for releasing the undead upon an unsuspecting world.
&nb
sp; The Hungry 2: The Wrath of God
Nevada: America’s number one tourist destination…
if you’re dead!
After surviving the first days of the zombie apocalypse, Sheriff Penny Miller and her friends relax in what’s left of Las Vegas. The Army asks Miller and her party to return to Crystal Place, the Top Secret base that was birthplace of the zombies. Even though the mission is to recover data that may lead to a cure for the virus—and Miller herself—she’s pretty sure its a bad idea. The Army assures her that a crack team of mercenaries will be there to protect them every step of the way.
When Miller sees weird religious graffiti scrawled in blood on the concrete walls of the deserted base, she’s sure their chances of survival have just dropped to damn near zero. Again.
Sometimes it sucks being right!
The Hungry 3: At the End of the World
The Zombies are Spreading…
Small town Sheriff Penny Miller and her friends Scratch, Terrill Lee, and Sheppard escaped from Nevada moments before a devastating nuclear explosion intended to eradicate the zombie plague. The Government’s plan didn’t work, and the zombies are spreading. When Miller and her men find an abandoned hunting lodge in a remote village in Colorado, they’re hoping to steer clear of zombies, redneck survivalists, and panicked locals, and to simply ride out the winter.
Penny Miller just wants some peace and quiet, a glass of wine in front of the fireplace, and maybe some quality time with Scratch over the holidays.
Unfortunately, that isn’t Santa coming down the chimney—and this will not be a Merry Christmas.
The Hungry 4: Rise of the Triad
The Zombies Are Coming… Again.
Small town Sheriff Penny Miller and her outlaw friend Scratch managed to survive a nuclear blast in Nevada and a brutal attack on their peaceful lodge in Colorado. They head for Los Angeles, looking for a fresh start. It seems the citizens of Southern California remain blissfully ignorant of the coming war. They believe zombies are simply an urban legend.
The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) Page 26