“Probably wouldn’t stop the locals,” Joel replied.
“Coulda, shoulda, woulda. Let’s get motivated, people. We gotta make a decision,” Sails said.
“Pull up a block away. I’ll scout.” Joel went over his gear, checked his rifle, and adjusted his combat armor.
I sat in the back and felt like punching stuff. With the Z’s there was always that sense of dread, like we were in constant danger. But Z’s were slow and you could take them out if you were careful. Fighting other survivors was a different matter. They planned and strategized just like us. When the bullets started flying, it would be a clusterfuck – a big old cluster, and one of us would probably end up shot.
But there was no way they were getting Roz and Christy, not to mention our armored transport.
Anna Sails pulled away from the curb. The car made a weird thumping noise as she pushed it up to about fifteen miles an hour.
“Stop.” I had a sinking feeling.
“Flat?” Joel looked over his shoulder.
“Might be something worse.” I said.
“We’re in the middle of the zombie fucking apocalypse, as you like to say. We don’t have time to swing by a repair shop,” Joel said. “Abandon ship and find a new ride.”
“No time. Let’s just go. All this bullshit and our friends have their asses hanging in the air. Fuck the car if it gets us there,” Sails said.
She pushed the Chevy up to a little over twenty-five, but the ominous thumping got worse and worse. Sails had to take a left at the next intersection and then maneuver around a pair of stalled pick up trucks. I used the time to feel around under the front seats until I located the box of shells Donny had handed me on the way out of Fortress Mark II. I reloaded the Mossberg and then filled the rails with rounds. Then I stuffed as many as I could into my front pockets.
I handed Sails her M&P R8.
The next street was totally clogged with stranded cars. Sails let out a grunt of frustration and moved to an alley that was remarkably empty—except for a dumpster that had been left in the middle.
“Fuck that.” She moved on.
Could have been a trap. Who knows? She was driving, and I trusted her judgment. Not that I’d tell her that.
The next cross-street was also clogged, but Sails eased up onto the sidewalk and then back down to the road. Each time we went up or down, I worried that the car would just stop, the transaxle cracked.
We were a block from the hotel before we saw familiar landmarks. Joel motioned for Anna to stop.
“Keep your head down, and if you run into trouble, drive away, but keep an eye out. Joel and I will check out the situation at the hotel.”
“The fuck you leaving me in the car for? Cause I’m a woman?”
“Nah, I got Creed for that role.” Joel said and winked at her.
“If you want Joel to sit up here and help with the get away then be my guest. I know you’re capable, Anna,” I said.
“Well, all you had to do was ask nicely.” She wore a little sarcastic grimace.
“I’ll give the all-clear when things are safe. If someone starts shooting, you gun it and roll up on them while firing into the air. That should spook them, maybe give us an advantage,” Joel said.
“How about if I shoot at them?” I asked.
“As long as you don’t hit me” Joel replied.
I lumbered out of the car and wondered why in the hell he wanted me along.
Sails grabbed my wrist as I moved away from the car. She pulled, so I leaned in.
“Creed. Stay sharp out there, and don’t do anything fucking stupid.”
“Fucking Stupid is my middle name.”
Sails smirked.
“Make it back and maybe I’ll let you hold my hand and take me to a movie.”
“I’d like to take you to…”
“Creed, let’s move. You’re in the Marines now, bitch,” Joel said and moved out.
“Yeah. You too, Anna…be safe.” Then I patted her hand like she was a two-year old or something. Fucking brilliant.
###
08:25 hours approximate
Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
“Why didn’t you take Anna?”
“Because you and I’ve been a team for the last two weeks. I don’t have time to train a new guy. Or girl. Besides, I don’t trust the mercs,” Joel said as we huffed it toward the hotel.
Joel picked his way around a series of low shrubs, then faded from tree to tree as the gate came into view. Since the pair of gunshots, it’d been mercifully quiet. Joel triggered his throat mic a few times but he didn’t hear a response. What the hell was Markus doing up there?
“Sails is cool. I think she might like me. Don’t say anything.”
“What are you, in high school?” Joel laughed.
“No, I mean she’s cool to me. I’d like to get to know her.”
We dashed behind a bus stop and Joel poked his head around the corner.
“Clear.” He moved inside the little shelter.
I wished a bus was on the way to carry us to anywhere that didn’t host a shitload of Z’s.
“Just don’t think with your dick, Creed. There’s enough going down without having to get attached. Next thing you know, you’re going to worry about a girl every five minutes.”
“Oh yeah, so if Roz decided to go her own way, what would you have to say to that?” I asked.
“That’s low, Creed.” Joel barely hid a half smile.
“What the fuck ever. Let’s go get your girl.”
“Roz isn’t my girl.”
“Right.”
Joel moved out with me close behind. He double-timed it toward the remains of a fast food restaurant. My ankle screamed in protest, but I kept up. I leaned against the building to catch my breath. All of the windows had been broken out and someone had sprayed a name on the brick wall. “Looking for Ellen Bates. Fred and Mary are at the La Jolla refugee center.”
“So what’s our play?” I asked.
“We’re blind, and that’s not good. Markus could be down, and that’s even worse. You cover my back. If anyone gets close, give them a warning. If they show a weapon, shoot them.”
“Wait. I’ve never shot anyone before.”
“The hell you talking about, squid? You’ve killed dozens of Z’s.”
“Those weren’t people. They were problems.”
“These guys are about to be a problem. Do you really want to let them get to Roz and Christy?”
“No.”
“There’s your pep talk. Now let’s take care of business.” He abruptly moved ahead.
I limped after.
###
08:35 hours approximate
Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
We kept the sun to our backs as we picked our way over the flat terrain. Old strip malls and more than one apartment complex provided enough cover for us. I kept the Mossberg pointed away from Joel as I covered his six. My eyes went where the gun barrel went. My hands were tense on the gun as I kept it steady against my shoulder. I would have been in a crouch as I moved, but shuffling on my busted ankle wasn’t making that part easy.
Joel was silent as he faded from doorway to doorway, from car to car. He moved and motioned after he’d swept the area with his eyes. By the time I reached his location, he was already on the move again.
The hotel was in sight.
We found an overturned suburban to take cover behind. Joel peeked around the back of the big vehicle, and then ducked back around and crouched next to me.
“There’s a couple of cars in front of the gate. I can see three people.”
“So what do we do?”
“Fuck.”
“You’re not my type,” I said.
Joel snorted, then looked thoughtful.
“If this was Afghanistan we’d go in hot. Shoot, scoot, and cover. Problem is, we don’t know these guys’ intentions.”
“We’re both dressed for battle. How abou
t this?” I laid out the plan.
Joel thought about it for a minute.
“It’s not bad. There is one problem.”
“Yeah. I might get my ass shot off.”
“That’s it.”
I grinned as wide as possible and wondered where in the hell my sudden bravado had come from. Then I strolled out from behind cover and walked toward what might be a firing squad.
Entry #13 - Clusterfuck
08:45 hours approximate
Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
It was time to put up or shut up. Joel wanted to go in shooting. I wanted to try something else. We glared at each other until, after a few seconds of trading comments about why both ways out were a shitty idea, Joel relented.
I took a deep breath, put the shotgun barrel over my shoulder, and casually strolled out from behind cover. I moved as if I didn’t have a care in the world, even though I might have a hundred gun barrels pointed at me.
I ambled around a stalled car that still had moving occupants inside. From the appearance of the two Z’s, I guessed they’d started chewing on each other out of zombie boredom.
The walk was only fifty feet, but it seemed to take forever.
I neared a pair of cars. Both were newer, and one of them still had a sales sticker on the window. Whoever these guys were, they were smart. Hitting up a car dealership and taking whatever we wanted should have been our next move.
“Stop! Hold it right there!”
The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty. He wore a wind breaker and a cowboy hat. At his side was a holstered six-shooter hanging from a wide, crooked belt. He looked like he was trying out for a modern-day Western.
“Whoa, man. What’s the deal? Me and the boys are hungry and need to get back to our base of operations.” I spoke with a calm confidence.
The kid was quickly joined by a pair of guys not much younger than him. They carried assault rifles.
“Boys?”
“Yeah. Who are you guys?” I asked.
“Uh. We’re from the University of San Diego. We were trying to find a safe place to rest. We saw the military vehicle.”
“You guys should move on. I’m with a bunch of Marines and they’re twitchy fuckers. They see all those guns and they’re likely to start shooting. In fact, see that truck over there?” I turned and pointed.
The guys followed my gesture and the cowboy gasped.
“Yeah, that’s my friend Joel. Marine sniper. I’ve seen him shoot the arm off a Z from three hundred yards. That’s what he did in the war. He shot people.”
“Oh shit, man. We aren’t looking for trouble; we were just looking for help.”
“Are you sure there aren’t any lurkers around? Backup? You guys wouldn’t be trying to steal our shit, would ya?” I leveled my best stone-cold-killer gaze at the kid.
“No, man. No. It’s just us.”
I turned and waved the all-clear for Joel. If these guys had laid in some kind of trap, they were the best actors in the world.
“Joel’s calling it in. If you guys are legit, no one gets hurt. Cool?”
“I swear, it’s just us. We’re just lost and hungry,” the youngest of the bunch said.
He had pale skin, freckles, and red hair. He was so skinny I wondered if a stiff wind would knock him over.
“We got a warning over coms that our little home here might be in danger,” I said.
Joel kept his assault rifle at the ready as he advanced toward us.
“That wasn’t us.”
“Yeah? You wouldn’t lie to me, right? What are your names, anyway? I’m Jackson Creed and that mean motherfucker is Joel Kelly.”
The three exchanged glances. They looked like they wanted to get the hell out of here, and I didn’t blame them. I was bluffing, sure, but if I thought a bunch of hard ass Marines were bearing down on my location, I’d leave a rooster tail of dust.
“We should just go,” the skinny guy said.
“Free country,” I said.
“It was a free country a few weeks ago,” the kid said.
“You mentioned some others?”
“Yeah, man. A bunch of guys on motorcycles and in trucks. They exchanged words with whoever is up there and then moved out. They didn’t look happy.”
I looked into the hotel parking lot and found out why. Donny was in the gunner’s seat, and he had the machine gun pointed in our direction. They couldn’t know that he was out of ammo.
I lifted my hand and waved. Donny waved back.
“Do you know who those guys were?”
“Just a bunch of mean looking guys. Bad asses. They wore leather and looked like they had a gang before this shit went down. They had swagger, man. Tons of swagger. Their leader’s named McQuinn.”
Joel joined us and he didn’t look happy.
“How many?”
“Just a few, but last night we were camped a mile or two from here and we heard this loud noise. We saw lights on the road, so we kept out of sight. There were probably fifteen or twenty vehicles.”
Joel moved toward the gate. He waved once and got the all-clear from Donny.
“Creed, let’s go.”
“Sails?”
The Chevy crept up on our location from the west. She came in real quiet, and I noticed right away that the thumping was gone.
Donny ran out and opened up the gate, and Sails drove in. Joel motioned for me.
“You guys have any supplies?” I asked.
“Not much. We got a case of refried beans and some salsa from a shop that wasn’t picked over. Also found some beer, but Edgar’s been hitting that stuff pretty hard at night.”
The third guy wasn’t as tall as me, but he was wide. Even with his gut, he looked like he was in decent shape.
“Gotta feed the machine,” he said and belched. “I play football. I used to.”
“Bring your stuff. We’re moving out soon, but we have some food. Got any ammo?”
“Not much. A few boxes.”
Joel stormed toward me.
“What the hell, Creed? These guys need to move on.”
“Oh.”
I hadn’t even thought about taking a vote.
Rumbling sounded in the distance and Joel got a worried look.
“It’s cool. We don’t want any trouble,” the skinny guy said.
The other two followed suit and hopped into the cars. I wanted to say something, but Joel was right. We didn’t need more mouths, but that wasn’t the only reason. They didn’t look like they were capable of taking care of themselves. They were just a notch lower than me on the zombie fucking apocalypse totem pole.
I moved toward the gate and shut it while Anna pulled up next to the HUMVEE.
“You fixed the car?”
“Yep. It just needed a woman’s touch.”
“Really?”
“Nah. We picked up an arm along the way, and it was thumping under the car.”
I actually laughed at that one and gently punched Sails.
“I hereby grant you the rank of First Class Engineer in the United States of Undead America.”
“I better get a damn pay raise,” she said.
“Oh, you will. I’ll put in a call to the President immediately.”
“Wow, Creed. You’re all heart.”
“True story. Now about that date?”
“Yeah. About that,” she said and turned.
I followed her gaze; a moment later, a rumbling sound reached me.
Engines. A lot of engines. And they were heading in our direction.
###
09:25 hours approximate
Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
Our minute of chitchat ended on a sour note, thanks to a bunch of assholes determined to crash our party. Over the last few weeks, we’d run into good people. Mostly good people. There were a few exceptions, of course, like Ken and his bat-shit insane buddy, who were holed up in a little house when they weren’t grabbing female Z’s off the s
treet. Fucking a Z? In the case of Monster Ken and his jackass-in-training, they must have been crazy before the whole end of the world thing occurred.
From time to time, we’d even come across some looters, but – as Joel pointed out – it wasn’t our job to play sheriff. We weren’t cops. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and the meanest dog would want to find the biggest bone.
As far as I could tell, we were the only bone in town. A few stragglers were making a living by scrounging, but for the most part, this little town had become full-on Undeadville.
It’d finally happened. It was bound to. The mercs had mentioned moving fast, but Joel and I had talked them into staying for a day while we did a food run.
Fuck me.
###
09:35 hours approximate
Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
“Sorry about the communications, man. The batteries started to die about the time you boys left,” Markus said.
He held up the dead unit and then tossed it into the back of the HUMVEE.
“Do we have more batteries?”
“Don’t know, man. There’s still a lot of shit in the back of the transport. We can check later, but right now we have a bigger problem.”
I nodded and moved around to the back of the Chevy to help load food into the HUMVEE. I grabbed a box of juice bottles, stuck one of the bottles into my pocket, and maneuvered the rest of the box into the truck. Christy grabbed it and shifted the contents into the back.
Roz came down the stairs in a rush. She had the last of the supplies from the hotel room in one hand and her handgun in the other.
“You guys get fucking lost out there?” she asked as she breezed by.
“We got in some trouble,” I said.
“Imagine that. You and trouble.”
“Come on, Roz. We found a great stash of food, but the place was crawling.”
“I’m sure. This whole town is crawling. Now let’s go before those assholes get here and I have to start shooting fools.”
Too late. They were already here.
Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts Page 6