Again, David’s brain duped him, the ambling undead figures transforming into the faux gunslinger that haunted and hunted him. There were Docs everywhere. And David was determined to run over every last goddamned one of them.
From around the corner of the building, another group appeared. A living group, led by Luz Gonzalez. David didn’t recognize all the faces, though he did spot Randy and Lenny. They seemed safe, unharmed, but concerned. David and Gabe’s army of two had just doubled.
He gazed at the group, his hands spinning the steering wheel as if on automatic pilot, one that knew exactly where to go. As if he’d driven these machines all his life.
Behind the bars, people cupped their hands to their mouths. Wide eyes screamed at him not to do it, to stop. Hands latched onto shoulders. Fingers pointed. Jaws unhinged.
And as he rode the beast of blight into the swarming Doc Holliday corpses, David was thankful. Thankful he couldn’t feel the bones cracking and splintering beneath the metal. Thankful he couldn’t hear the gurgled groans as their bodies were squeezed like tubes of toothpaste. Thankful he could not see their skulls and bodies pop from the pressure. And he was thankful he could not hear the terrified yells of onlookers who had rounded the building just in time to witness the first mass-crushing of the ‘sick.’
Get well soon, fuckers.
David worked the machine like a giant riding lawn mower, steering it south and parallel against the fence, aiming to tame those hard-to-reach, stubborn weeds. Weeds that just happened to feed on the living. Bodies fell like bloody blades of grass, sucked under the rotating drum. The rusting metal morphed into a slick dark crimson. Along the rotating cylinder, severed and squashed body parts were pinched randomly between the knobs, like the massive mordacious monster had food stuck in its teeth as it chewed away. And still, it kept rolling, mangling and roaring. And eating.
He’d swear on Natalee’s grave—if she had one—that a cowboy hat was glued to the drum with blood, being crushed over and over with every rotation.
Those men and women that had circled the building to investigate the raucousness stood rapt, unable to turn away from the live horror movie playing right in front of them.
Inside David, a cathartic geyser sprang, like Old Faithful. Despite his eyes tricking him into seeing a mob of Doc Hollidays, his mind knew better. But still, with every cadaver crushed, feelings of requital surged.
At the southern end of the east fence line awaited a turn too sharp to make. David jerked to a stop, backed up, straightened a couple of times. He still cut it too close, clipping a corner pillar of brick and mortar. Two sections of iron bars buckled, collapsed to the ground. The horrified flock of temporary tenants following along the inside of the fence jumped back to avoid being smashed themselves.
David chanced a glance behind him, surveying the carnage. It was like a huge, out-of-control boulder had rolled over everything along the fence line, leaving a noxious, nasty mess.
Stifling his sour stomach, he churned his way along the south fence, working toward the front, to the west. More shufflers succumbed, body parts sticking and clinging, a human tomato paste clogging the wheel. Didn’t matter. It rolled onward, forward, the tough alloy too resilient—too hungry—for mere flesh to render it immobile. It was insatiable.
David glanced over the fence at the swimming pool. The strident engine stirred those trapped in the manmade hole, their arms raised, swaying. It was as though they were moshing to the heavy metal racket. His captive audience. He considered plunging the soil compactor into the pool for an encore performance when he finished his business along the fence and in the field. His lips slanted into a malicious smile at the thought. He’d like that. He’d like that very much.
At the next corner, he didn’t bother hugging the turn or going wide. Didn’t even try to spare the steel keeping the living in and the dead out. He cut the corner early, plowing down another section of fence, another crucial pillar. More brick burst into fine dust. Iron bars groaned. The small crowd of Alamo dwellers following along still gaped in silent awe. But David could barely hear any of it over the god awful din, only taste it on the air, the famished machine on a binge, devouring anything in front of it. He didn’t bother to look behind him this time.
The clustered bodies on the front gate didn’t surprise him at all. They had dispersed some, but not much. He’d caught a glimpse of them while slinking around inside the Alamo earlier. He expected to find the bulk of the rotting horde there, surging the steel, desperate for sustenance. But he couldn’t mow them down in one pass as he’d done on the east and south sides. The mass of burgeoning bodies was too thick and too wide, similar to that stubborn section of overgrown grass that required two or three passes to cut down. Attack it all at once, the mower’d die. Got to ease into it…
His eyes and mind fucked with him again, and the mob morphed into cowboy hats and trench coats. He thought he actually saw one of them pull a pistol, aim at him. Of course this wasn’t possible. The dead didn’t have the capacity for such cognitive skills. Or hell, maybe they did. There was still so much he didn’t know about them.
He shook his head with quick snaps, trying to fling the visions of an ocean of Doc Hollidays from his mind. But seeing Doc’s face on all those corpses made grinding them into the ground so much easier. So much more… cathartic. Tolerable. Palatable.
Fun?
From his perch on the high driver’s seat, he lifted his eyes above the herd, away from the throng of Docs. Across the way, on the north fence, the dually—driven by the Janitor—was waging its own war on the dead. Judging by the copious minced meat jammed in the brush guard like bugs in an automobile grill, Gabe had been plenty busy—and successful—on the north side, saving David the trip.
David turned his gaze back to the fence, spotted Lenny and Randy just inside, still attached to the shocked bunch that accompanied the compactor along its destructive path around the building.
He didn’t see Jess or Bryan, but he was actually okay with it. Better they not witness the gluttonous, grotesque extermination underway. David was lucky that the big drum blocked his view of the dead being chewed up and spit out.
Ready to finish it, David gave the lever a slap, and the engine whined and cried as it continued its ravenous chomping, cutting a gruesome swath through the mass of meat choking the front drive.
Now completely absorbed in his malignant mission, he didn’t notice three faces recently banished that carried a message for him. One he’d be very interested in getting.
Chapter 21
Jessica, Taneesha, and Bryan crouched quietly in a thicket several yards from the pond, hiding right where Lenny instructed them to. Though not entirely safe from shufflers or the occasional creepy crawlie, the trio was at least out of sight, even if they weren’t entirely out of mind.
Charlie proved restless, though, whining and squirming. Imprisoned in Bryan’s protective arms, the poor thing wanted to do puppy things, like run and chase, not hide out in a bush. Bushes were reserved for other things, along with fire hydrants and the sides of buildings. The child did his best to calm the canine. There was obviously a bond between the two, and the animal would mind for a few moments, but soon grew restive again.
Jessica eyed Charlie, then whispered, “Bryan, do you want me to hold Charlie?” She desperately wanted to mollify the mongrel. With enemies both alive and dead roaming about, they all stood a better chance if Charlie would chill out.
Bryan shook his head. “No, Miss Jessica. I’ll hold him.”
“Well, try to keep him quiet and still, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll try.”
After a labored smile, she patted him on his shoulder.
On tenterhooks herself, Jessica shifted constantly, crouching for a minute, then kneeling and sitting on her heels, her thighs tired and achy. But she felt a strange vulnerability in that position, like she couldn’t spring into action fast enough should the need arise, and would return to a crouch until her thighs scre
amed, no more. This cycle seemed to go on indefinitely. Like Charlie’s whining.
The two women kept mostly silent, communicating primarily with their eyes. If they needed to say something, they spoke in strong whispers to override the chorus of cicadas and crickets and chirping birds—and Charlie’s whimpering—while the leaves high above rustled in applause.
Sensing Jessica’s unease, Taneesha said, “I don’t think you gotta worry none ‘bout your cousin. Lenny says he’s gonna bring the Janitor and Randy, and Randy ain’t gonna leave David. He got a lot of respect for that man.”
Jess simply nodded as she shifted positions yet again. She appreciated Taneesha’s kind and comforting words. And she was concerned for David and Randy. But she was also tired of being out there, in the woods, waiting. And her fretfulness over Charlie’s constant crying only served to gnaw at her from inside out. They may as well broadcast their location to every living and dead being around.
Laying a hand on Jessica’s forearm, Taneesha added, “I’m sorry… ‘bout earlier today. I didn’t know what all went down. All I seen was your cousin with that gun, and Roy and Scotty with they heads blowed off.” She winced, her teeth together as her eyes darted to Bryan, suddenly remembering part of her audience was ‘G’ rated. “Sorry. Anyways, I just, well, I’m sorry for getting all wound up about it and getting other folks wound up.”
A genuine smile touched Jessica’s lips, a glow brushing her cheeks. “Thanks, Taneesha. Truly, thanks for that.”
They traded smiles again, then turned their gazes back to the wall of brush.
Several moments passed before Jessica said, “I’m just worried that they’ll waste time looking for me. They don’t know I’m out here.” She pinched a stick, drawing in a tiny patch of dirt. She glanced around, started to push to her feet, pinwheeling her arms to keep from rolling onto her back. “Maybe I should—”
Taneesha snatched her wrist, her tone graduating to a healthy hiss. “You can’t go back there. Uh-uh, no ma’am. You’s probably lucky to get out when you did.”
Jessica sighed, unconvinced.
Charlie jumped from Bryan’s arms and onto Jessica’s dirt artwork. “No, Charlie,” Bryan scolded. He snatched the puppy back into his arms, the animal’s small legs kicking and pushing. “Sorry, Miss Jessica.”
“It’s okay, Bryan.”
Taneesha said, “Don’t you worry. Lenny ain’t gonna leave David behind and they’ll figure out you’s with me.”
“Is there anyone else he plans on bringing with him?”
Taneesha shook her head. “Ain’t nobody else, ‘cept them kids.” Her gaze fell to the ground, and Jessica could see the waves of self-condemnation rolling through her.
Pangs of guilt started through Jessica. Leaving the Infirmaries to their own devices was one thing. Allowing innocent children to them was something else entirely. “We’re gonna have to go back for those children. We can’t just leave them—”
“One thing at a time, girl. Can only do so much, you know? Like they tell you on airplanes, gotta put your own mask on ‘fore you put on your kid’s mask. You ain’t no help to nobody if you’s all passed out on the floor.”
Jess nodded. She didn’t know Taneesha all that well, but like her brother Lenny, she was an affable, likable woman. And smart. They were about the same age, she and Taneesha—late thirties—and she really hoped to get to know her better. And it probably helped that Taneesha no longer viewed David as a killer.
In the distance, a grating, manmade sound injected a discordant note into Nature’s choir.
Jessica glanced at Taneesha. “Do you…?”
Taneesha’s eyes narrowed, her features tensing as she nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. I hear it, too.”
Jessica’s new friend started to rise, and this time, Jessica grabbed her wrist, pulled. “Wait. Do you think it’s time?”
“Don’t know who else it’d be, ya know? Be dark soon and Lenny said be ready.”
“But didn’t you tell me that he and Randy’d planned to sneak down here and meet us later? That they’d leave the vehicles, so they wouldn’t draw attention, make the Infirmaries think we hadn’t gone anywhere?”
“That’s what he said. Maybe plans changed. Maybe something come up.”
Suddenly not as eager to go, Jess said, “Let’s just… let’s just hang out a minute. Something feels… off.”
“Off?”
“I can’t explain it.”
The three of them remained hidden in the underbrush, staying quiet—except for Charlie—and listening to the far off growls of a diesel engine. Jess was sure—positive, even—that they were hearing the Dodge dually. Would bet her life on it. But she just couldn’t shake the negative vibe pressing its way into her.
Seconds passed, and the two women volleyed glimpses and curious expressions, straining to envision just what exactly was happening beyond their very limited scope of observation.
It was the gunshot ringing through the trees that got them moving almost instantly again.
Jessica sprang to her feet first. “Oh, shit.” Like a woman chased, she started pushing through the dense foliage.
“Wait…”
“No, I’ve gotta—”
“No, I mean wait for me,” Taneesha said, stumbling to her feet.
Finally breaking through to the path, Jess said, “Stay here with Bryan. I’ll go check it out.”
Still behind the barricade of greenery, Taneesha said, “I don’t think we should split up, you know? Don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jessica’s feet were already tugging her toward the noise. She didn’t want to argue, not now. Not about this. And she didn’t want to put Bryan in danger. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with guns going off. Who knew what the hell was happening. Who was shooting. And being shot at.
She started at the distant pop of more gunfire, then smacked her own chest with her hand. “Shit.” Her head spun, inside and on her neck, scanning, looking. She’d been shot at before. Recently. Remembered just how it felt, the terror of lead chunks kicking up grass and dirt, whizzing through the air. The sound they made when they punched metal and wood—and bodies.
Her hand went to the small of her back, to the small sidearm riding there.
Hurriedly, Taneesha said, “C’mon, kiddo.” They began pushing through the brush. To Jessica, “Them shots coming from up yonder, by the Alamo.”
Jessica instinctively knew this, but couldn’t help feeling that the shooter was right there with them. She half expected the gunman to spring out of the trees like some sideways jack-in-the-box.
Boo!
Ah!
Bang!
Taneesha said, “You don’t think they’re shooting at…?”
With a wide-eyed gaze, Jessica shook her head with shallow snaps. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she pulled her Sig Sauer P238 pistol, then glanced at Bryan. She had to compose herself. For him.
Chill the fuck out, Jess. Be strong for Bryan. Don’t upset him. Kid’s been through enough today. Don’t show him you’re scared. Be strong for him. Be strong for you. You’ve done it before, now do it again.
Already, Bryan’s glassy eyes were darting wildly about, wide with concern. Then they found her handgun, and they got even bigger. Charlie yelped when Bryan gave him an inadvertent squeeze that went beyond a hug of love.
Jess could only imagine the fear in his heart, what he was going through. Hell, she was beyond scared, and she was a grown woman. It was easy for an adult who’d learned to shun the bogeyman to forget how fear could light a child on fire inside.
Kneeling in front of him, Jess said, “Bryan. Bryan, look at me, sweetie. Okay? Look at me.”
Bryan dragged his gaze from her pistol, finally settled on Jessica’s face.
“Good boy,” Jess said. “Now listen. We’re going to go for a walk, okay? Just gonna go to the end of the trail, okay? Wanna take Charlie for a walk? Huh? Think he’d like that?”
He nodded quick, tight nods, t
hen touched Charlie’s flailing head with his chin.
“I want you to stay right behind me. Taneesha will be right behind you. Stay in between us, okay?”
Another set of rapid nods.
“Okay. If something happens, I want you to take off into the bushes, okay?”
His face flashed fear and worry. “What’s gonna happen? Will Charlie get hurt?”
“I’m not saying anything will happen, sweetie. I just want you to be ready in case something does. If I say run, I want you to run into the trees and keep running. Got it?”
“Yes, Miss Jessica.”
“Good boy.” She smiled, brushed her hand across his face and hair, then gave Charlie’s head a quick rub. “We’ll come find you if that happens. Just hide in the woods, but stay near the pond, and don’t come out for anyone unless it’s me or Taneesha or someone else you trust, okay? David, Lenny, the Janitor—you can come out for them, too.”
The boy nodded once more. Jess glanced at Taneesha, a nonverbal cue that they were ready.
Another, bigger sound broke through the brush, a brand new band edging out Nature’s choir.
“That a… bulldozer?” asked Taneesha.
“Sure as hell sounds like one.”
Standing, Jess turned, the lead locomotive of their three-person train.
She struggled to be strong, her pessimist mind telling her all sorts of bad things. Evil things. Things that only a month ago seemed the stuff of movies and TV and books. Not real, not possible. Not even likely. Not in their lifetime, anyway.
But here she was, leading the way toward what sounded like a party in hell. She figured God was getting tired of hearing from her, that He was too busy, inundated with every last living soul on earth begging and pleading for restoration of life as it was once known. For a do-over button.
Her eyes and mind ahead of her, she stumbled, her toe catching something, sending it skittering across the path with a hollow, glassy thunk.
Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row Page 18