The Longest Road (Book 1)

by Thompson, A. S.

  Steve pulled Jenny close and spoke as calmly as he could. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. Hop on the toilet and open the window. Make sure there are no monsters out there, and then I want you to jump out and run as fast as you can to the RV.”

  Jenny shook her head. “But what about you? What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

  The weight of undead against the door grew, as did the pounding. The metal hinges moved with each hit. Steve released his spent magazine and jammed in a fresh one.

  “Jenny, go, now!”

  Reluctantly, Jenny did as she was told. She hopped up on the toilet seat and opened the window. With the masses entering the front, the back was clear. She cast a saddened look at Steve, then wiggled through the opening.

  1700 hours

  Jenny arrived at the RV untouched. With her small frame and nimble feet, she was able to stay out of view the entire way.

  Sarah grabbed her and pulled her away from the loud gunfire. “Jenny! You’re alive! Thank God! But where’s Steve?”

  Jenny’s eyes began to tear up. “He’s in the bathroom and they were everywhere. He saved me and now he’s going to be dead!”

  “We have to go get him!”

  “No way,” Alex said. “I’m sorry, Sarah. He’s my cousin, but there’s nothing we can do for him. And if we don’t leave now, none of us will get out of here alive. He would want us to go.”

  “He’s right,” Collin said, limping from the front with a case of loaded magazines. “We have to leave.”The last of the infected had crawled beneath the gate, bringing the total to well over fifty. The hysteria inside the Eye mimicked that of an angry hornets’ nest. The survivors who had missed Mark’s evacuation call were now being hunted down. Room by room, the infected swept through the castle, picking them off one by one.

  Come on, Billy, where are you? Alex thought as he hopped in the driver’s seat. “Hold on, this is going to get bumpy!”

  Coup de Grâce

  May 26, 2009

  1705 hours

  After giving Corey the full two minutes and some, Robert had forced Brian to leave with him or get left behind. Brian’s decision had been hard, but easy.

  Robert shifted the military truck to park, leaving the engine running. He stared through the windshield at the twenty-foot tall gate. It looked magnificent, but was still operated by crank and rope. Mark had loved the aesthetic, but had hated the practicality. The gate itself was a beautifully handcrafted combination of steel and iron, and looked like something out of King Arthur’s time. Mark had been a month away from renovating it to be fully electric.

  “All right, Brian, you’re up. Go turn the crank so we can get the hell out of here,” Robert ordered.

  “Why me?”

  “Because I said so. Now do it, or I’ll shoot you and then open it up myself,” said Robert, pulling out his sidearm and pointing it at his friend’s head.

  Opting not to test Robert’s limits, Brian scanned the immediate area and opened the door. “You better cover my ass, man. And don’t leave without me!”

  Brian slowly turned the doorknob leading into the crank room, then ducked inside to avoid being spotted by any infected. The crank room was bare, save for a few crates of wine bottles and a cabinet of yard tools. Dust kicked up as Brian rushed to the crank.

  “Come on, you bastard, turn!” Brian growled, pulling the wooden handles one after another. With two people, the gate could be opened or closed in a matter of seconds; one average-sized male could do it in under a minute. Brian was below average. What little muscles he had tightened with every pull.

  Suddenly, the door creaked open. Thinking that infected were coming in, Brian fled to the corner.

  “Hey, idiot,” Robert whispered. “What are you doing? Will you hurry the hell up? We got to move, now!”

  “Fuck me, Rob, I thought you were one of them,” Brian said, rising from the corner, shaking. “It’d go a little faster if you helped me!”

  “Then who would watch our backs, smartass? You don’t have to lift it the entire way, just a few more turns so we can fit the truck underneath. I’ll whistle when it’s high enough,” Robert said before leaving to scout the perimeter.

  Brian understood the logic in Robert’s comment, but still mimicked his words like an adolescent. After a few more clicks of the crank, he heard Robert’s whistle. On his way out, Brian looked back, doing a double take. Temptation won, and he ran over and grabbed a dusty bottle of Silver Oak wine.Thanks, Mark, he thought.

  Robert stood out in front of the gate, making sure it was high enough. Brian ran over to the side of the truck, gun in one hand and the bottle raised high in the other. “Rob, check out what I found,” Brian said shaking the bottle. “After we kick rocks, we can have a little something to celebrate with. What do ya think?”

  Brian’s question turned into a scream as an infected man’s jaw locked on tight to his neck. Blood gushed out and spurted everywhere. The pain caused Brian to squeeze the trigger uncontrollably, sending round after round whizzing in every direction. The bottle fell from his grip and shattered as it hit the ground.

  It was hard to differentiate between the wine and blood.

  “Rob, help me, please,” Brian called out as the blood loss began to make him lightheaded.

  Robert had an opportunity to save him, or at least to mercy kill him, but he didn’t. “Sorry, Brian, shit happens.”

  The zombie overpowered Brian with ease, dragging him to the ground. After Brian had passed out, the man ripped through him like a lion.

  Wasting no more time, Robert rushed to the truck, but came to a skidding halt underneath the gate. Nearing the driver’s door, an infected man with dilated eyes rounded the corner. Before it could see him, Robert turned back and jumped just out of view.

  “Shit!” he cursed under his breath.

  He knew he would never be able to make it. He probably had enough ammo to go in guns blazing, but he didn’t know how many more might be near. As he paced down the castle exterior, he spotted his salvation.

  “So, Alex, you were good for something after all,” Robert said, running toward the ATV.

  ###

  Everyone else was either dead or dying.

  Fifty feet from the gate, Alex stopped the RV and slammed his fists against the steering wheel. “There’s no way we are getting out. That truck is blocking us, look.”

  “The truck is half the problem,” Mark corrected, pointing his finger further up. “We need to get that gate lifted up all the way, or you’ll turn this thing into a convertible.”

  “I didn’t even see that. Okay, suicide mission. What do we do, draw straws?” Alex asked half-jokingly.

  Before any decisions or objections could be made, Mark grabbed his gun and swung the side door open. “I’ll crank the gate up, then meet you on the other side. Just cover me as best you can.”

  Sarah jumped up and followed the colonel out the door.

  “Where are you going, Sarah?” Collin asked. “You’re—”

  “I’m what? A girl? I can handle myself quite well, actually. Steve taught me. Mark needs help. You’re hurt, and so is Alex, and there’s no way I’m letting Jenny go out there. You got any better ideas? I don’t think so. So sit down, shut up, and cover us from the side.”

  Everyone stopped and gave Sarah their complete attention. Even Jenny backed up behind Collin. Sarah had transformed from a lovable girl-next-door to a dominating alpha-female. She was tired of being told what to do, and what she was capable of doing. She wanted to fight. She wanted Steve, but would settle for revenge.

  “Actually, I was going to say, you’re going to need a better gun,” Collin finished, smiling. He lifted an MP5 from the rack next to the kitchen and handed it to her. “Just aim and spray. That simple.”

  She returned the smile and pocketed her 9mm Smith and Wesson.

  Immediately, two infected ran up to the sid
e of the RV, but Mark dropped them. “Time’s a-wasting. Let’s move most ricky-tick!”

  Travis, intent on joining, was steps behind Sarah, but Mark shouted for him to stay back and protect the convoy.

  “Cully, what happens if they fail?” Alex asked, knuckles white from grabbing the steering wheel.

  “Plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “Great.”

  ###

  Sarah had never killed anything, living or undead. Her rant in the RV had been a façade, used to mask her fear. In truth, she was scared, not so much at dying but at failing.

  Her first test of courage came before Mark had even reached the crank room.

  J.P. Chin was no longer the calm, soft-spoken Asian man she once knew. Now, his eyes bore the trademark signs of infection. He ran at Sarah, snarling, with arms extended and a mouth full of bloody teeth. It was difficult to do, but she knew she had to.

  “I’m sorry, J.P.,” she whispered, firing a stream of bullets into his head.

  Mark didn’t bother checking the handle. Instead, he kicked open the crank room door, splintering the wood at the hinges. He shouldered his rifle and dashed for the crank.

  With no more fresh bodies to attack, the infected closed in on the automatic gunfire and scent of the remaining living.

  “Hurry up, Mark! They’re coming!” yelled Sarah between bursts from her MP5.

  “Almost there,” Mark called back.

  After one more full rotation, the lock clicked in place and the gate was fully up. “We are good. Now get back to the RV,” Mark ordered. “I’ll take care of the truck and meet you outside.”

  She nodded and turned to leave, but a gang of infected sprinted toward her. She held down the trigger and showered them with lead. Smoke rose from the red-hot barrel.

  All but one of the infected was killed. Shannon. The gossip queen’s body was peppered with bullet holes everywhere except the head.

  “Shit!” Sarah cursed. She panicked and grabbed for her pistol.

  Shannon was faster dead than she was when alive, and from four feet out, she leapt, taking Sarah to the ground. With all her might, Sarah used the automatic weapon to shield her face from the woman’s snapping jaw.

  Hearing Sarah’s scream, Mark turned from the truck to help, but failed to notice two lurking infected around the corner. They blindsided him and forced him to the ground. Mark desperately tried to throw them off, but one of the infected grabbed his head and snapped it back, killing the colonel instantly. His body tensed for a second, then fell limp.

  Sarah fought for her life as she wrestled with the woman, but could feel her muscles shake violently. “Help. Anyone, please,” she whimpered.

  In a swift motion, Shannon slapped the gun out of Sarah’s hands. The gossip queen cocked her head upward, letting out a harsh growl, and then went in for the kill.

  1712 hours

  The remaining survivors put up their last stand at the RV. From every hallway, room, and corner of the compound, the infected descended upon them. Alex dropped a magazine and injected a fresh one. His eyes caught Sarah and saw Shannon on top of her, ready to bite. Maybe if Alex had had a rifle, he could have saved her, but with only a pistol and from that range, he would probably miss, or hit Sarah. He signaled for Collin to help, but he, too, couldn’t take the shot. He was using one of the M4’s, and would almost certainly hit her with the automatic spray or unsteady balance. Their last chance was Travis, but he was just as useless; the second lieutenant had just fired his last round.

  Sarah held on for as long as she could. Her arms and shoulders were drained from holding the woman back. Fatigue had caught up with her. She was simply out of strength. As Shannon descended upon her neck, Sarah closed her eyes and turned away.This is it, she thought. She heard something whiz by her head, but didn’t open her eyes to check. She expected to feel the puncture of teeth into her flesh. She was ready for the pain, and almost welcomed a new world, a world with no more suffering, pain, or hurt.

  But it never came. All she felt was the release of weight as the woman’s body slumped beside her. Sarah opened her eyes and looked around, completely dumbfounded. Shannon was dead. But how? Sarah thought.

  The RV was under heavy attack, and those with weapons gave no indications of having shot the woman. She looked to Mark, but saw his insides spilled on the ground next to him.

  What happened? Am I dead? Sarah kicked off Shannon’s body and rose. She turned in a 360-degree motion, scanning the compound, looking for an explanation. From across the courtyard, she found her answer.

  In a crouched position, Steve lowered the rifle’s iron sights from his eyes. He flung the strap around his shoulder, armed himself with his Sig, and ran toward her. The two met halfway and embraced in a lovers’ hug.

  “What happened? I thought you were dead!” Sarah asked, as a tear fell from her eye.

  “I would love to explain, baby, but now’s not the best time. We have to get the hell out of here!” Steve said, taking her by hand.

  “Baby? Taking things up a notch, are we?” Sarah joked.

  Steve led the way back to the RV, taking out everything in a fury of vengeance.

  Collin was so startled by his cousin’s presence that he shifted his weight to his injured leg. The movement tore open a few of the stitches, but he fought through the pain and hugged his cousin.

  “Cully, why are you guys still here?” Steve asked.

  “We needed to open the gate and move the truck blocking the exit,” Sarah said, interrupting. “Mark got the gate open, but was attacked before he could move the truck.”

  “Everyone inside, now!” Collin shouted as an even greater wave of infected charged.

  “Steve, you’re alive?” Alex called back from the driver’s seat. “Where’s Bill?”

  “I’m sorry, Alex, he’s gone, I’ll explain later. How are we getting out of here?”

  “Short of someone running through the mob of zombies and moving it? No idea.”

  “I guess it’s our only option,” Steve said, checking his handgun. “Just lay down as much cover as you can from inside here.”

  Sarah jumped in front of him in protest. “No, Steve, you can’t go!”

  “I’m sorry. Someone has to and I’m the best choice. I’ll make it back, I promise,” Steve said, putting his hand to her face.

  “No, Steve, youreallydon’t have to. I mean, I think there’s another way,” Collin interrupted. He leaned against the kitchen window and fired before speaking again. “Let’s pull a Fort Kennedy,” he said.

  Everyone looked at him blankly.

  “We still have an RPG left, don’t we? Open the hatch and fire it at the back of the truck. The force should knock it through the gate and clear us a path. I’d do it, but my leg is a little busted.”

  “Always full of excuses,” Steve joked, racing to the back. He returned with the remaining grenade launcher.

  The RV’s windows and frame were being tested by the strikes from the infected. The kitchen windows splintered and shattered, and the side door looked as though it would collapse at any minute.

  Without hesitation, Steve opened the roof hatch and armed the RPG. Looking through the metal bars, he lined up the shot, inhaled, and pressed the button.

  1715 hours

  The ATV kicked up a storm of dust. Robert backed off the throttle and laughed.Only the strong survive,he thought.

  Safely away from the chaos, Robert slowed the ATV and pulled off the main road. The motor continued to hum as Robert got off to look up the hill at the castle. Smoke rose from various rooms of the Inner Eye, and he could still hear faint screams.

  A loud explosion caused Robert to back up. He didn’t understand how, but the truck he had left at the gate suddenly blasted through and flipped over itself. The RV came bursting through the flames and wreckage.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  ###

  The roc
ket-propelled grenade screamed through the air and hit the back of the truck dead on. Collin’s calculation had been right, and the force of the explosion blasted the truck up and through the gate.

  Steve ducked back inside. “Go!” he yelled. Alex’s foot was already on the gas.

  Everyone braced themselves for the hasty getaway. Everyone except for Steve. Steve fell from the hatch, landing hard on his tailbone. He got up and rubbed his backside, cursing the pain away. It was bruised, but not broken.

  At the cusp of the gate, Alex shouted, “That son of a bitch is still alive. I’m going to run his ass over!”

  Steve pulled himself to the front and saw what Alex was talking about. On the dirt road, about fifty yards ahead and moving fast, Robert had hopped onto the ATV and was making a quick getaway.

  Steve patted Alex on the shoulder. “No, he’s mine. Where’s my rifle?” Steve said. He quickly remembered that it was hanging on the rack in the scouts’ perch of the Outer Eye.

  Collin picked up his personal .30-06 rifle and threw it to Steve.

  “Not the tool I’m used to, but it’ll work,” Steve said, eyes burning with rage.

  Sarah cut Steve off before he could open the roof hatch. “Steve, you can’t kill him. That’s not you. I know how bad he hurt you, but if you do this, you’re no better than he is.”

  Collin held onto Jenny, and neither said a word. Jenny was still too young to realize what was going on, that Steve was seconds away from murdering her brother.

  Steve squeezed the hunting rifle. The dilemma was lose-lose. One side of him was out for blood, to pay Robert back for his villainy. Robert was not only responsible for the innocent lives lost at the Eye, but for Billy as well. The other side knew Sarah was right. He wouldn’t be any better. Too much blood had already been spilled.