He grabbed his knife and brought it down to Terrell’s chest, but the Captain was able to grab his wrist, and the two of them struggled, the blade dancing an inch above his heart. As they grappled, moans and footsteps echoed from the door.
Three zombies staggered towards them. Marco gave one last heave to try to kill Terrell, but the Captain was too strong. Finally as the zombies were within a few feet, he tried to break away to deal with them, but Terrell grabbed his wrist like a vice.
Marco quickly went from confident to panicked, and delivered a deft kidney punch, which caused Terrell to let go. Once free, he leapt up and gave a straight kick to the lead zombie, sending it flying back into the others.
As he stabbed the next one, Terrell kicked the back of his knees, sending him tumbling to the ground just a foot away from the fallen zombies. He scrambled for his knife and took one in the eye socket as it lunged for him, shoving it back into it’s friend. Once pinned, he stabbed it in the head and turned back to Terrell.
They looked at each other and then at the door they’d come through, easily a dozen zombies pushing their way in, with more behind them. Terrell sprinted for the door leading out of the funhouse, and Marco darted after him.
As the Captain approached the door, Marco reached out, grabbing him by the collar. Terrell responded by turning and throwing a punch, catching him on the side of the head, but not powerful enough to get him to let go.
Marco tried to hit him back, but Terrell blocked him and unleashed a few strikes to his head before grabbing his hair and pulling his face down into his knee. The impact shattered Marco’s nose, and Terrell kicked him back to the ground.
The Captain ran to the door, throwing it open as sunlight bathed the dingy room. He looked back, seeing his opponent struggle to his feet as a few dozen zombies filled the room.
“Better luck next time, motherfucker,” Terrell declared, and slammed the door shut just as Marco began to scream. There was a metal loop on the outside of the door, where a padlock would fit, so he flipped it shut, taking his knife and jamming it into the hole to lock it up.
As he walked down the small metal staircase, the door erupted in pounding, muffled screaming from inside. Gunfire echoed, one shot after another ringing out as Terrell walked away.
Finally it fell silent, and he grinned at the sky. “Guess you should have been a little more selective about your shots, Marco,” he said, and then headed down the aisle towards the front of the carnival.
He ducked behind some booths to stay out of sight of the milling zombies, taking several minutes to get back to the entrance with his injuries and having to be careful. As he approached the SUVs, another one sped up in the distance.
Terrell removed his assault rifle and readied it. “Fuck hand to hand,” he said to himself. “Everybody else today is getting a fuckin’ bullet.”
As the vehicle approached, the horn honked frantically. The passenger window rolled down and Miles popped his head out, putting the Captain at ease. Coleman pulled up just short of him and the soldiers hopped out.
“Holy hell, Cap, what happened to you?” the sniper blurted.
Terrell smiled through the blood on his face. “I mean, it was seven on one,” he drawled. “I think I look pretty damn good considering.”
They shared a shrill laugh, relieved at having survived the skirmish.
“We found out it was the Boss who sent these guys after us,” Miles said finally.
Terrell nodded. “Yeah, I figured that out when Marco knew my name.”
“We heard about Marco,” Coleman said. “Was he as badass as he was cracked up to be?”
“Well he did do this,” Terrell replied, pointing to his busted face, “so I’ll give him props. At least I would, if he were still breathing.”
Miles clapped him on the shoulder, and they let out a collective sigh of relief that the immediate threat was over. “So where to now?” he asked.
“Guess we could take Chucky to Florence,” Coleman replied.
Terrell glanced into the backseat. “Speaking of Chucky,” he said slowly, “where the hell is he?”
Both Miles and Coleman looked at each other with wide eyes, and then laughed.
“Ah, we may have left him cowering in an upstairs bedroom closet,” Coleman admitted, scratching the back of his head.
Terrell barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, let’s go get him before he shits himself in terror,” he quipped. “Not sure I want to spend eighty miles sitting next to that.”
“Trust me, we’d strap him to the hood before that happens,” Coleman replied, clapping him on the shoulder as they headed for the vehicle.
As Coleman fired up the SUV, Terrell rolled down the window to get some air. He blinked when he thought he heard a gunshot in the distance, but then shook his head. Echoes of the dead.
“You all right, Cap?” Coleman asked.
Terrell shook his head. “Yeah, it’s nothing, let’s roll.”
CHAPTER NINE
With Chucky in tow, Coleman drove the SUV along the interstate towards Florence. Miles hung his head out of the window like a happy puppy, while the portly man stayed silent, staring at his hands in his lap.
Terrell stared out his own window, eyes hard.
“What’s on your mind, Cap?” Coleman asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
He took a deep breath. “Just processing the last few days,” he said. “And trying to convince myself that we’re not walking into another shitshow.”
“It is the apocalypse after all,” the sniper replied, “so a shitshow should be expected.
Terrell shook his head. “Nah, it doesn’t have to be,” he insisted. “Hell, I’m half tempted to have you drop me off on the side of the road so I can find my own way.”
“Not gonna happen,” Coleman replied. “We’ve been through too much together on too many battlefields. We’re sticking together.”
Miles nodded, pulling his head back in the window. “I’m with you too,” he declared. “I left the comfort of a quaint little town because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“You were working for a murderous asshole,” Coleman pointed out.
Miles shrugged. “True,” he agreed, “but the town was nice.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Coleman said, “we’ll take Chucky to Florence, check it out, and whatever you want to do, we’ll do.” He glanced in the rearview at Terrell.
The Captain smiled. “Appreciate that, man,” he said. “Same to you, Miles. I just want to try to do some good, you know?”
“We will,” Coleman said firmly. “We will.” He inclined his head at the exit sign for Florence, boasting only a mile ahead. “Get yourselves ready, cause we’re here.”
Terrell and Miles readied their weapons, and Chucky wrung his hands.
“What are you guys doing?” he squeaked. “These are friendly people?”
“We hope that they are,” Terrell said. “But just in case they aren’t…”
The portly man swallowed hard, grimacing, but nodded in understanding. Coleman reached the exit and there were two large American flags flying from the top of it. The exit went up to an overpass, two trucks standing guard at the top.
“Look sharp,” Coleman instructed.
He pulled up the checkpoint, where four armed men stood guard with assault rifles. One motioned for them to stop, and another approached the window.
Coleman rolled it down. “Afternoon, boys,” he greeted.
“Hey there, I’m guessing you heard our little broadcast?” the guard asked.
The sniper inclined his head to the back seat. “Our friend Chucky here did, said we should check the town out.”
“Well we’re damn glad to have you,” the guard replied. “Frankly, we’re kind of excited to see that there are so many survivors.”
Coleman took a deep breath. “It’s been an adventure getting this far, let me tell you.”
“I have no doubt,” the guard replied, nodding. “I
f you want to swap some stories, we get together at Lulu’s every night. I’ll even get the first round if you come by.”
The sniper chuckled. “I’ll never say no to a free drink.”
“Very few do,” the guard agreed.
“And those who would, probably haven’t lasted this long in the apocalypse,” Coleman quipped, and they shared a laugh.
“So, if you want to hang a left here, you’ll hit our welcome center in just about half a mile,” the guard said, motioning as he spoke. “Just park wherever you can find a space, and I’ll radio ahead for one of our guides to give you a tour.”
Coleman extended his hand, and they shook. “Appreciate it,” he said sincerely. “And we’ll see you later for that drink.”
“Looking forward to it,” the guard replied with a smile.
The sniper pulled away, rolling up the window and hanging a left, driving slowly across the bridge. Up ahead there was a tree-line road, leading to a town fortified with metal sheeting. A couple dozen cars parked alongside the road, and the front gate of the town was wide open. He parked about a hundred yards away from it, and turned to Terrell.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
The Captain took a deep breath. “I think if they wanted us dead, they had the firepower to get it done at the checkpoint,” he mused.
“Agreed,” Coleman said.
“Still,” Miles put in, “I’d rather not give up my gun.”
“Oh hell no,” Terrell agreed, “they can pry it from my cold dead fingers.”
The quartet got out of the SUV, rifles slung over their backs as they walked towards the entrance. When they reached fifty yards of the entrance, a thin older blonde lady appeared in the doorway and walked towards them.
“You must be my new friends!” she gushed brightly. “I’m Angie, welcome to Florence!”
Terrell took the lead, shaking her offered hand. “Hey there Angie,” he greeted, “I’m Terrell, this is Coleman, Miles, and Chucky.”
“Well come on in y’all,” she said with a huge smile, “let me show you around.” She led the group through the doors, the boys noticing several heavily armed guards with assault rifles.
Angie noticed Coleman and Terrell exchanging a pointed look and waved her hand. “Oh, don’t pay them no mind,” she said breezily, “they’re as harmless as a ladybug, so long as people behave. They haven’t allowed a hostile thing to get within a hundred yards of our little town in over two weeks now, so you can feel real safe here.”
“Good to know,” Terrell replied.
She led them into town, where it looked like an old school block party. There were tents set up with baked goods, games for kids, as well as for a few adults. Everyone seemed pretty laid back outside of the guards.
“So how big is this place?” Coleman asked.
Angie spread her arms. “We’ve been able to carve out about ten square blocks of prime real estate,” she declared proudly. “Which has been plenty for us. However, you’re the fifth group to join up since we put out that broadcast the other day, so we may need some help expanding in the near future if you’re up to ti.”
The sniper chuckled. “Trust me, we’re very much up to it.”
“Looking at you, I have no doubts in my mind,” Angie said with a wink.
Terrell suddenly felt a knot growing in his stomach as he looked around, seeing all of the innocent lives. He flashed back to Clinton, suddenly seeing a lot of similarities, and his blood running cold remember how that ended up.
“Angie, please don’t take this as me being rude, but we really need to talk to whoever is in charge,” he said.
She blinked at him, curling her hair behind her ear. “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” she said, “you look like you’ve had a rough day, ,why don’t you get some food and some-”
“Please,” Terrell cut in firmly. “It’s important that we speak to whoever is in charge, now.”
She pursed her lips, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll take you to Edgar right away.”
As they started to walk, Terrell turned to Chucky, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. “I’m afraid this is where you get off, buddy,” he said gently. “I don’t think you’re cut out for what we do.”
The portly man looked relieved and nodded furiously. He extended his hand to shake. “You’ll get no argument from me,” he agreed. “I can’t thank you three enough for getting me here. Without your help, I would have for sure died at the farm house.”
“Just doing our part,” Terrell said as they shook.
Coleman and Miles waved at him as he wandered off towards one of the food stands.
Angie’s brow furrowed. “Your friend not coming?”
“Nah, he’s better off here,” Terrell replied, shaking his head.
She nodded and then let out a sharp whistle. A young man in khakis and a polo shirt by one of the baking stands perked up, looking over at her.
“Can you get Chucky some food and show him around?” she called, and he shot her a thumbs up before heading for the portly man. She clapped her hands and turned back to the soldiers. “Okay, off to Edgar we go!”
CHAPTER TEN
Angie opened the door to a small insurance office on Main Street. It looked like it was built in the forties and had never been updated, with original brick and everything.
“This… doesn’t look like the office of a town leader,” Coleman mused.
The blonde tilted her head back and forth. “Edgar is a bit old-fashioned, and humble,” she explained. “He believes a community leader should be among the people instead of above them, which is why his office is here.”
The sniper nodded, impressed. “All right, I’ll buy that,” he said.
Angie led the three of them to the back office, knocking on the wood and glass door.
After a moment, a male voice from inside called, “Come on in.”
She opened the door and ushered the soldiers inside. Edgar looked up from behind an oak desk. He looked about twenty-five, with black shaggy hair and a vintage Judas Priest t-shirt. He grinned wide, showing straight white teeth.
“Hey Angie, you bring by some new friends?” he asked.
She motioned to the trio. “Well, I was giving Terrell, Coleman, and Miles the tour, and they just couldn’t wait to meet you,” she said.
The soldiers exchanged surprised looks at their jovial exchange.
“Is that a fact?” Edgar asked brightly, and waved them in. “Well, come on in and have a seat. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
They sat down in the comfortable chairs across from his desk, still confused and unsure of what to say.
“Believe it or not, I totally understand the look on your faces,” Edgar said, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. “If I were in your shoes, I would be doing the exact same thing. Before everything took a turn for the worse, I was the mayor of this town.”
The soldiers chuckled, raising their eyebrows in disbelief. The man leaned back and pointed to a framed newspaper article on the wall that boasted Twenty-four year old insurance broker wins mayoral election!
“Well I’ll be damned,” Terrell muttered.
“Yeah, it was kinda crazy,” Edgar admitted, running his hands through his messy hair. “My father and I would always talk about ways to better the town, and finally one day he told me to put up or shut up, so I ran against the six-time incumbent. I had no illusions of winning, until it was discovered that he forgot to pay the registration fee, which meant I was suddenly running unopposed. Less than a year later, the apocalypse happens and everybody is looking to me.” He shook his head and laughed. “Guess we can file this under, be careful what you wish for.”
Miles crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Gotta love these small town elections, huh?” he asked.
“No kidding,” Edgar replied.
“Well, it looks like you’re doing a bang up job here,” Coleman said.
The mayor smiled. “Well, I do appreciate that,” he sa
id. “Now, what can I do for you boys?”
“You need to turn off your broadcast,” Terrell said simply.
Edgar blinked at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head, “but it’s paid a lot of dividends already. We’ve rescued fifteen people in the last day alone, families with children who have been riding this out alone now have a home because they heard our call.”
“You need to turn off your broadcast,” Terrell said firmly.
Edgar stared into those eyes of steel, and swallowed hard, worry etched on his face. “Can you tell me why?” he asked.
“Because there are bad people who would do bad things to this community if they knew it existed,” the Captain replied.
Edgar raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you saw, but we have guards.”
“So did the last town we came from,” Terrell explained. “Now they’ve been overrun by someone who has no problem killing and maiming to get what he wants.”
The mayor pursed his lips, contemplating for a moment. “But what about the good people out there?” he asked. “Likes those families, and you guys?”
“You can set up safe houses far from here,” Terrell explained, “check the people out before bringing them here. If you truly want to protect your people, you need to realize there are others out there who want to do you harm.”
Edgar paused, and then took a deep breath. “Would you be willing to help us set that up?” he asked.
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” the Captain replied.
The mayor nodded firmly. “Good,” he replied. “Well, I’ll go tell my radio operator to cut off that broadcast immediately until we can get it set up.”
The office door suddenly flung open, a panicked man rushing inside.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Edgar said, and then his brow furrowed at the look on his associate’s face. “What’s going on?”
The radio operator looked at the trio, and then back at the mayor.
“It’s okay, they’re friends,” Edgar assured him.
“That…” the operator huffed, “that trading group from Bluffton that was heading up here is in trouble. They just radioed in that they’re under attack.”
Dead America The Third Week | Book 11 | Dead America, Carolina Front, Part 7 Page 6