The Feral Children [A Zombie Road Tale] Box Set | Books 1-3

by Simpson, David A.

  “Tick tock.” Gordon said, and smiled, throwing the phrase back in their faces. “Times a wasting.”

  Vanessa came out of the petting zoo and ran to the gate with machetes unsheathed, her dark, scarred features seething with rage. She looked fierce and wild but she was only ten and the guns that came up went back down again. She was just a kid playing dress up.

  “Damn, Gordon. When you said there were some babes here, I didn’t think you meant babies.” Maggot said and there was more laughter.

  “The wolf girl is older.” Gordon said peevishly. “But you’ll have a hard time taming her.”

  “Challenge accepted!” Skull said and raised his bottle high.

  The undead grew closer to Cody, they were only feet away.

  “Stop them Gordon!” Harper yelled “This has gone far enough; they’re getting too close!”

  “The gate isn’t blocked anymore. Come on out and I will.”

  Cody struggled with the ropes but they cut into him and he couldn’t get leverage. He was draped across the windshield and cowl, his arms spread wide and his legs stretched behind him and tied viciously tight.

  There was a whisper of the air being disturbed then the zombie reaching for him toppled to the ground with an arrow sticking out of its head. There were shouts of surprise and the guns came up again and aimed in the general direction where they thought it came from. There was another whoosh of air and the head exploded on the next zombie and a long spear imbedded itself into the cowling of Jester’s snowmobile. He jumped in shock and fell off the seat as chunks of blood and brains splattered across his windshield. Guns pointed the other direction and but there was nothing to see. It could have come from anywhere.

  “I’ve got your ugly face in my sights.” Swan’s voice rang out and guns moved back towards the shadows to their left. The laughter stopped and the teens gripped their rifles tighter. Fingers rested on triggers but there was nothing to see, just shadows on shadows in the gloom and falling snow.

  Another spear whispered through the air and another of the undead tumbled to the ground.

  “Where the hell are they?” Gargoyle asked a little panic in his voice, his pistol jumping from one building to the next, looking for a target. They were supposed to kill all the animals when they showed up. It was supposed to be like shooting fish in a barrel with the gates separating them.

  Tobias shoved the gate open and the four kids strode out.

  “Put a spear through the first persons’ head that aims a gun at us.” Tobias told the shadows, as the nervous men glanced at each other. Guns wavered and didn’t know where to point.

  Vanessa and Harper went straight for Cody as the twins ran for the other undead and started swinging their axes. The sawblades tore into them, ripping through legs and sending arms flying with syrupy thick blood painting the snow. The teens sitting on the snowmobiles didn’t know what to do, the spears and arrows coming from the shadows could be aimed at any one of them. The voice didn’t say which ugly face had an arrow in its crosshairs. Gordon seethed and itched to pull his pistol but he knew where Swans bow was pointed. He knew who Donny was ready to spear next. The black rune tattoos stood in stark contrast against their pale white skin and blood splattered faces as the little kids moved like half sized demons through the undead. Tobias ripped the legs from a woman in threadbare, graying rags and Annalise spit her skull with an overhead swing. She pulled her jagged blade out with a sickening slurping sound and half the woman’s hair ripped out and dangled from the saw teeth. The teens sitting on the snowmobiles didn’t think the kids were so funny looking or harmless anymore. Before most of them had time to react, while they were still trying to figure out where the others were hiding, the babies tore through the undead in seconds leaving grizzly, mangled corpses in their wake.

  Gordon backed off further when Vanessa slashed the ropes holding Cody in place and watched with impotent rage as her and Harper slung his arms over their shoulders and hurried back to the gate.

  His superior numbers and firepower had been rendered useless by a bunch of tweenagers. His crew sat helplessly on their machines and looked on as his prize was taken away.

  “This isn’t over.” he told them, as they latched the gate behind them. “You killed Smoke. We owe you.”

  “You killed him.” Cody said and separated himself from the girls, used the bars to support himself. “You killed him when you came back.”

  “I could gun you down right now.” Gordon said, his voice cold anger. “I could shoot you all.”

  “Then do it.” Cody said and pulled himself taller, the feeling in his legs starting to return. “Go ahead, Gordon. Grab for your gun.”

  The snow fell thick between them as they stared at each other, bitter hatred and cold anger. Cody had been so easy to capture it was almost laughable. They had been at the back gate with plans of sneaking in when Mr. High and Mighty came strolling along. He didn’t even see them until he had a dozen guns in his face. It was easy to strap him to the front of his snowmobile like a big trophy then put the fists to him. Easy and fun. It galled him how fast he lost control of the situation.

  “I can finish him now.” Swans voice came faint but clear from somewhere off in the shadows, maybe from a rooftop.

  Gordon’s eyes darted toward the sound and he hunched his shoulders.

  “Let’s go.” he finally said and straddled the machine.

  He had no doubt an arrow was centered on his back until he was out of range.

  40

  Gordon

  Gordon was livid and embarrassed and knew they were laughing at him. At his grand plan that was supposed to be foolproof. It had been so perfect. They should be taking home their Christmas prizes of animal trophies, new servants and Harper. He knew she would come around and grow to like Smiths Landing after a little while. She’d get over her stupid giraffe in a week or so and everything would be fine. Instead of a victory celebration, there would be derision and ridicule from Richard. He ground his teeth as they flew down the road, past the abandoned golf cart and the first house where he’d spent the night after they ran him out. As he flew past the little church, he suddenly braked hard and cut his engine. At first, he didn’t think the others were going to stop but when they did, he had a smile of his face.

  “Yeah, it might work.” Skull said, slipping away from the stained-glass window. “But who’s going to bell the cat, Gordon. Who’s going to lead them in?”

  Gordon looked around at their hostile faces and knew none of them would volunteer. They didn’t trust his plans anymore.

  “I will, of course. You just make sure the hole is open and you’re far enough away they don’t smell you.”

  They looked at each other, shoulders shrugged and nodded. It might work and since none of them were going to be in danger, why not? It might knock some sass out of those brats.

  He and Skull looped the chain through the front doors and hooked it to the back of Gordon’s snowmobile while half the gang went to cut the fence and the others filled empty beer and whiskey bottles with gas. They stuffed rags in the necks then circled the church to wait for the signal.

  “Throw ‘em hard so they break!” Skull yelled at the others. “Then ride like the devils on your ass. You want to be out of hearing distance by the time he rips the doors off.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Jester said. “We’ll be long gone. We’ll meet back up at the cutoff to the Rolling Hills Estates a few miles north of here.”

  It only took a few minutes to toss the firebombs through the windows and start the blaze. They ran to their snowmobiles, rushed to get away and Gordon was alone again, sitting on his machine and getting ready to do something really brave or really stupid. He wasn’t sure which. He was having second thoughts. Something could go wrong. Anything could go wrong. Hell, everything could go wrong. He tightened the helmets chin strap, looked at the lighter he’d stolen from Cody months ago and his resolve hardened. His hatred was stronger than his fear. He took off a glov
e, flicked the zippo and the flame burned strong. He stared at it for a moment then lit the rag on his bottle. The wick had been in too long, was soaked with gas and his whole hand went up in flame. He yelped, nearly dropped it in panic then threw it as hard as he could against the doors. There was a crash and a whoomph as the bottle smashed and covered the ancient wood in hungry fire. The dead inside had been milling around but like the others, they moved slow and listless. The fire would thaw them out and he would lead them to the kids’ front door. Fast, aggressive and hungry, they would ruin any celebrating the brats were doing.

  The fire got real hot real fast and it felt good at first. It didn’t take long and he had to move away, his snow dampened clothes were starting to smoke. Gordon fired up the Snowmobile and goosed it. The treads dug in and he shot forward. He nearly flipped over the handlebars when the chain snapped taut but the old doors tore loose and he regained control. He quickly unhooked it and fought the urge to leave now. Get out while the getting was good but he kept his hand off the throttle and watched the door. He waited for the undead to see him and give chase as the fire reached the roof and burnt bright in the night sky. He could hear the crackle of the flames and the hissing of melting snow but not the hungry sounds they made when they were chasing prey.

  “Hey! Dumbasses, I’m out here!” he yelled with more bravado than he felt and revved the engine, worried they might stay inside and burn up.

  One of them stumbled out to the stoop and zeroed in on him. His hair was starting to smoke and his jacket was singed but he recognized fresh blood. He shrieked and sprang down the stairs, landing only yards away from the idling snowmobile. Gordon screamed and hit the throttle and was nearly thrown off the machine as it careened out to the road. He’d never seen anything move so fast. He’d never come across a zombie that had been inside since the beginning. One that wasn’t chewed up from animals, broken down from ceaselessly chasing the living or worn out from the elements. They poured out of the church and came for him, some on fire, some just smoking but all of them fast and hungry. The snow on the road was packed down by snowmobiles and the dead were sprinting for him, clothes and hair aflame Gordon had to slow down not to leave them far behind. It only took a few minutes to cover the distance back to the Park and he saw the gaping hole they had cut in the fence line. He left the hardpack and shot through it with those things screaming and reaching for him only a hundred yards behind. He raced across the field towards the house. They would probably all be inside, they shouldn’t be expecting another attack. They were probably fussing over the beating he’d given Mr. High and Mighty. He had to get close but now too close. Donny and that psycho Swan were deadly with their primitive weapons and he was a big target.

  Drawn by the noise and flames, two huge hunchbacked shapes loped along through the darkness. They smelled the seared flesh, remembered the taste of cooked meat and followed the shrieking horde through the hole in the fence.

  41

  The Tribe

  Almost as one, the animals stiffened and turned their heads. Otis sniffed the air, abandoned his spot by the fire and joined Yewan and the wolves by the big picture window. Daisy and Popsicle were enjoying the snow, rolling around in the yard and both stood and stared to the north. The little capuchins abandoned their game of chase with the triplets and scampered over to Murray, each trying to hide under the blanket covering his legs.

  “They’re back.” Swan said.

  Cody stood, brushed Harpers hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs aside.

  “They’ve come to kill.” he said. “If not us, then the animals.”

  “Then we kill them first.” Swan said and shrugged back into her gear. “I knew I should have put an arrow through his head.”

  Cody thought furiously but there was nothing they could do. They didn’t have any place to hide and running blindly away in a snowstorm would only get them lost and frozen. They’d be easy to track anyway. They could try to talk but he knew how that would end. More beatings, butchered animals and the girls being carted away. Maybe all of them. Had Gordon’s gang degenerated to slavery?

  The others were throwing on their equipment and they knew the stakes, too. The animals were growling and chuffing and Yewan was pawing at the front door. In the distance they heard the rev of a snowmobile coming in from the back of the Park.

  “Hit them hard and fast.” Cody said as he jumped into his spare armor. “They won’t be able to shoot anything while they’re riding. With the animals charging them, maybe they’ll be too scared to get off and take aim.”

  Donny threw open the door and Yewan bounded along beside him as they leaped from the porch and melted into the darkness. Swan barked a command at her wolves and they flew past the twins as they swung bareback onto the Polar Bears, battle axes in hand and a war cry on their lips.

  Vanessa and Harper ran for the barnyard to get their companions as they strapped on their protective armor. Halfway there they saw the headlight of a lone snowmobile in the far distance dancing across an open field. They heard the screams of the undead, too. They were faint and far away but they were coming. They were being led in and from what they could hear, there were a lot of them.

  Cody almost didn’t catch up to Otis as he jumped off the porch and ran toward the intruders. He caught a handful of fur, swung up on his back, bent low and urged him to go faster.

  When he topped a rise, Gordon saw the panther first and knew Donny and his damn spear had to be close behind. Yewan was running straight for him, standing out in stark contrast against the snow. A second later he was gone, the headlight beam picking up nothing but falling snow. Gordon didn’t know what to do. If he turned now, the horde would follow him. If he got any closer, he might have an arrow sunk in his chest or a wolf tear him off the machine. He crouched down low, hiding his whole body behind the front cowling and windshield.

  A little closer. He told himself. I want the horde to be on top of them.

  He rode down into the next small valley and gunned the machine towards the top. He would turn once he was over the rise. The horde wouldn’t see him and that would be close enough. He craned his neck around to see how close they were and was satisfied as he saw them streaming down the last hill. When he looked to the front again, he screamed and involuntarily jagged the handlebars. A nightmare visage with a soot blackened face was jumping for him, a tomahawk in each hand. The machine turned and she missed plunging them through his face shield. She twisted and sunk the spike ends of her hatchets into his back, tearing deep into his heavy coat and imbedding in his plastic armor. Gordon was ripped off backwards and landed with a grunt when he hit the snow. Swan rolled to her feet, had a snarl on her lips and dove for him. Lucy got to him first. Gordon got an arm up as the wolf tried to tear into is neck and she bit down on plastic instead. While Lucy tried to crush his arm, Swan aimed her spikes at his face. Gordon screamed again, was jerked sideways by the wolf savaging him left and right. Her tomahawks bounced off his helmet and before she could choke up on them and start using them to slash him to ribbons, a spear whizzed by them and into one of the undead only yards away. Zero leaped past them to plow growling into a keening blood hungry child. Donny retrieved his spear without breaking stride and aimed for the next one running through the snow.

  “Take care of him, Lucy.” Swan said then joined Donny to fight the more immediate threat.

  The polar bears crested the hill with the twins screaming their battle cries and urging the beasts to go faster. Their war axes would drink deeply from the blood of their enemies this night. Vanessa was right behind them and Ziggy knew what to do. All of the animals did. Their keepers and their wards were in danger and they knew no fear. The unnatural things that smelled of death but didn’t die still had to be destroyed and they didn’t hesitate. Bert ran right through them, stomping and breaking as many as he could. Harper swung her morning star and sent gouts of slow rotting brains and blood splashing across the snow. The undead screeched and reached for her but Bert drove them down.
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  Cody rode into the fray swinging his hammer as Otis plowed into the middle of the horde, snapping his massive jaws and ripping them apart. He reared on his hind legs and slashed with long, sharp claws. He bellowed his rage and Cody rolled off, got his back against the bears and started swinging with both hands.

  Yewan fought silent like his master. He didn’t waste energy on snarls and growls, he ripped and tore and bit as Donny spun his metal spear to impale faces or crush heads.

  A group of three lunged at Cody and he met them head on with skull popping blows from his hammer. The heavy steel crunched through bone, destroyed the brain and the zombies dropped. He spun, swung his hammer like a baseball bat and shattered the head of another. The third one was almost on him when Otis turned with a roar and raked a paw across its face to send its head flying away with a streamer of black goop painting the snow.

  Donny withdrew his spear from the face of a well-dressed old lady, sent hundreds of pearls flying from her broken necklace and drove the butt of his spear backwards through another a chomping mouth and out the back of its head. Yellowing, splintered teeth joined the pearls and the zombie joined the growing pile of unmoving corpses.

  The battle raged as animal and warrior worked through their ranks. There was no order to the fight, only chaos, the undead cared about nothing but biting and spreading the virus. They shoved and clawed at each other to get closer to the untainted blood and were met with tooth, claw or steel.

  Vanessa guided Ziggy with her knees and used her spear to thrust through heads until it was ripped from her grasp. A machete filled each hand and she continued the fight, slashing without mercy with a war cry on her lips. The ostrich danced and slashed, her wings up, her talons tearing open the undead and her powerful beak caving in their heads.