Forget The Zombies (Book 2): Forget Texas

by Spears, R. J.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  They trusted my instincts to get them out of San Antonio when the world was turning to shit and they must have trusted me now because they shot into motion. They all broke into separate groups and started cracking open crates. I grabbed Mack before he could get moving and pulled him close.

  Before I could say anything, the rip of a heavy weapon sounded to the south, but a lot closer than before. This sound was followed by screams and shouts. Lots of them. The other refugees were finding out what was coming at them and that meant we only had minutes before the whole place broke into total pandemonium.

  “Mack, we need to get that truck,” I said pointing to the Deuce.

  “What?” he asked, more dumbfounded than skeptical this time.

  “We can’t just walk out of here. We need transport. In just a few minutes every refugee in this camp is going to be heading this way. We have to get out of here before this station is overrun.”

  Joni must have overheard me and she stepped up beside Mack and me. “What about them?” she asked motioning to camp and all the refugees. “We can’t just leave them all here.”

  “Look around, Joni,” I said. “There’s only a handful of vehicles here. It’s every man for himself.”

  “But that would be abandoning them.”

  “Think of Jessica and Martin.” It was hitting below the belt and I knew it, but there was no time for a humanitarian debate. We had to get out, and fast.

  A myriad of expressions passed over her face, most of them dark, but the final look was one of resignation as she nodded.

  “Let’s go and get the truck, Mack,” I said.

  As we walked to the truck, I looked to the south. I could see and hear the sound of automatic weapons intermixed with more explosions. Figures moved chaotically, silhouetted against the flame and lights. Some were soldiers, some were refugees. All of them looked in high panic mode.

  We were in luck, the keys were in the truck.

  “Mack, can you drive this?” I asked when we climbed into the cab leaving him behind the wheel.

  “Sure, I drove one in the service,” he said and started it up. He revved the engine and ground the gears for a couple seconds, but figured it out. In thirty seconds, he had the truck backed up to an open tent flap.

  I hopped out and went to check on the progress inside. Just as I arrived at the side of the tent, Jay poked his head out the flap, smiling broadly.

  “Hey Grant, look at these,” he said and held up a hand full of glow sticks giving off their trademark lime-green hue. “Cool, right?”

  “Jay, this isn’t a rave party. We need useful things like guns, ammo, food, water. Got it?”

  “Oh yeah, man. Sure,” He said and stuffed his satchel full of glow sticks and disappeared inside.

  I followed him into a beehive of activity. Sammy had an armful of rifles and Rosalita dragged a heavy ammunition box across the ground towards the opening. Randell toted two large plastic of containers of water behind him on a cart. Joni had even put young Jessica and Martin to work and they were carrying boxes toward the truck. I ran forward and grabbed a few rifles from Sammy to lighten his load.

  Bill stood off to the side looking morose. His wife, Freda, who looked withdrawn and somewhat vacant, was just as inactive.

  “Bill,” I said, “we could use your help.”

  It took him moment, but he snapped out of it and nodded his head. He put a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder who glared at me as he went to help load the truck.

  I started back for another load when the sound of another explosion filled the night. The light bathed us in its angry orange glow for a few seconds. Most of our group paused, watching the mushroom cloud pulse into the sky. Things were getting decidedly worse.

  I cupped my hands together around my mouth and shouted, “Time’s up people. Everybody on the truck.”

  All heads turned towards me and they stopped what they were doing.

  A voice came from behind me, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” The voice didn’t sound happy.

  I turned around to see Jay’s soldier friend standing at the back of the truck, his side arm out, and aimed at me. I’d have to rate his expression more in the territory of pissed as hell and nowhere near happy. While he wasn’t all that close to me, the hole at the end of the barrel looked rather large.

  I put my hands up and said, “Hey, we don’t want any trouble.”

  “Well, you’ve already got it, asshole,” he said rubbing the swelling on his chin and taking a step towards me.

  I caught some motion out of the corner of my eye and saw Huck trying to move towards the soldier. The soldier jerked the gun in Huck’s direction.

  “Back off!” the soldier shouted and Huck froze in place.

  “Listen to reason,” I said taking a couple steps towards the soldier. “Look at the camp.”

  He swiveled his head slightly to the south. A wave of refugees surged towards the north guard post fence. All their faces were filled with fear, terror acting like a tidal wave sweeping over them. I could see the muzzle flashes past them. Whatever was coming our way was coming fast.

  “There’s no time for keeping to your orders,” I said. “If we don’t get out of here now, then we’re all going to die.”

  He turned back to me and slowly started nodding his head and said, “You’re right. You are right.” He started to lower the gun, but then jerked it back up. “That’s why I’m taking the truck.”

  “Okay,” I said, “you can come with us.”

  “No way,” he said. “I can’t trust you. You’re the son of bitch that sucker punched me.”

  “I’ll stay behind then. Take my friends.”

  “No. No,” he said. “I’ll grab a few of my buds and we’ll head out. We’ve been talking about taking off anyway.”

  “So, you’ll just leave us here?” Joni asked. “At least, you can take my kids.” Joni pushed Jessica and Martin out in front of her towards the soldier.

  “Sorry, but there’s a lot of kids down there,” the soldier said pointing back into the camp.

  It was then that I caught a motion past the soldier’s shoulder and spotted Mack trying to push his way through the flap of canvas between the truck’s cab and into the back of the truck. I could only assume that he was trying for one of the weapons.

  “Please,” Joni pleaded with the soldier.

  “Lady, stay back or I’ll have to do something we’ll both regret.”

  Mack looked my way and I shook my head. He’d never make it into the back of the truck without being detected. I pushed my hand out as subtly as I could and tightened it into a fist and then pulled backwards. Mack took a moment to understand as I made the motion again.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the soldier asked while re-aiming the gun at me.

  “My people know how to shoot,” I said, as I watched Mack pull himself back into the cab. “Plus, there’s safety in numbers.”

  “If you don’t shut up, asshole, your number is up,” he said, smiling at his little joke. “Thank your friends for loading the truck for me. Now, if you all will just stay back then I won’t have to shoot anyone.” He fired the gun over our heads and everybody jumped back.

  A burst of gunshots sounded down in the camp and I saw the first wave of refugees hit the fence en masse. They were shouting and screaming for someone to open the gate as they frantically clutched at the fence. It only took seconds for the crush of people behind them to press them against the fence, increasing the panic.

  The screams covered the sound of Mack shifting the truck into reverse and flooring it. Before the soldier could react, the truck shot backwards and the back tailgate struck the soldier in the neck. His head snapped back and his body shot forward as he pitched onto the ground as Mack rolled over him, both wheels of the truck straddling the soldier’s prone body. The soldier’s pistol skittered across the hard packed ground and I jumped forward to grab it in case the soldier reached f
or it. I didn’t notice that Mack hadn’t hit the brakes and had to make a last second dive before he ran me over, missing my leg by inches.

  Mack slammed on the breaks before he drove through the entire tent.

  I jumped up and got into a firing position on the soldier, but it wasn’t necessary. His was knocked completely out. I would imagine that he’d have a hell of a headache later.

  “Zombies!” Sammy shouted.

  God, I hate that word.

  I looked up to see a small group of zombies tearing into the refugees against the fence. There were still more refugees than zombies, but the refugees weren’t fighting back. They were solely focused on escape and I couldn’t blame them. It didn’t help that the military had taken all our weapons when we entered the camp.

  Well, almost all. I had been able to hide my ankle holster with my .38, but it would be worth about as much as spit in the rain once the zombie wave washed over us.

  “Dios mios,” Rosalita said, crossing herself.

  “Where the hell are the soldiers?” Bill said.

  “Grant, we have to do something,” Joni shouted over the chaos. “They’re going to get slaughtered.”

  Just a few weeks ago, I had been responsible for getting our small group out of the hell that was San Antonio, now I was responsible for entire camp of refugees? I wanted to say, “No way in hell,” but the gnawing guilt ate at me. There had to be something I could do without jeopardizing my group.

  “Okay,” I said, “get everybody on the truck. As long as the refugees are locked out of this area, they’re sitting ducks. I’ll get the gate open, but first,” I put my index finger in the air, “I have to be assured that our people are getting out of here in the truck, all in one piece.”

  “But—” Joni started to say, but I cut her off.

  “I can’t save them all, but I can give them a fighting chance.”

  She accepted my bargain with the devil and turned to lift Jessica and Martin onto the truck. The others were getting in, too. I walked up to the cab and climbed onto the running board.

  “Nice move with the truck,” I said through the passenger window.

  “Thanks,” Mack said, a sly smile coming to his face. “How’s the soldier?”

  “He’s out cold.” I said and he nodded his head in self-satisfaction. “Mack, I need you to get me close to the interior gate and drop me off.”

  “What the kind of plan are you thinking up now? I thought we were getting the hell out of Dodge?”

  “All the refugees are trapped inside the fence. The zombies will make quick work of them. I’m going to open the gate and let them in.”

  As if to accentuate my point, the screams of the refugees increased in volume and urgency. I didn’t even turn to look. I had seen enough people eaten by zombies to last a lifetime.

  “But they’ll come for the truck.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” I said, “but you’ll be outside the gate by then.”

  “No way,” he said. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “No,” I said, “I’ll make a run for it. You park just outside the gate. If I’m not there in two minutes, go on without me.”

  I could tell he didn’t like it, but what choice did he have? “Okay, but you’re a crazy son of bitch, you know that?”

  “Yes, I do. Now, ask the guys in the back to prep two or three rifles and to pass them through to me.”

  “What for?”

  “Is there really time for twenty questions?”

  He just shook his head and relayed the question through canvas flap that separated the front from the back. After a couple fitful lurches forward, he got it down and drove across the north guard post, stopping at the gate.

  “We’re here,” he said.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” I said. The gate was bowing in from the crush of refugees. A couple of them had attempted to climb over but got hopelessly tangled in razor wire at the top of the fence and were being slowing sliced and diced. It was a horrible image as they screamed and bled into the crowd below. From my slightly elevated angle, I could see over the crowd at the horde of zombies teeming through the camp. There were few solider still around to fight them. Those few were fighting tooth and nail, but they were being quickly overwhelmed.

  A large group of zombies had made it to the back of the crowd and were tearing into them with fearful and bloody results. Some of the refugees fought with whatever they could, their fists if that’s all they had, and fended the first wave off, but as soon as the oncoming horde was upon them, the wholesale slaughter would be on.

  “Hand out the rifles,” I asked Mack.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “No, but give them to me anyway,” I said.

  Reluctantly, he handed them over. The crew in the back only had time to prep three rifles. That would have to do.

  “Where the hell are the soldiers?” Mack asked.

  I took a moment to look around and saw that the area was completely deserted. The exterior gate was standing wide open.

  “They ran for the hills,” I said.

  “Chicken shit bastards,” Mack said.

  “Yeah, it’s time, Mack,” I said. “Stay just outside the gate. Two minutes and then go, whether I’m there or not.”

  I grabbed the pistol and stuffed it into the waistband of my pants then picked up the three rifles in my arms. I jumped off the truck before I came to my senses. Mack made it easier by pulling away almost before my feet hit the ground.

  In the few seconds since I had last looked, the scene at the gate had gone from bad to worse. Two more guys were trapped and screaming in the razor wire. In a hellish tribute to the Army engineers who designed and built the gate, it still held in place despite the mass of people pushing against it. More zombies had made their way to the back of the crowd and were taking people down one-by-one.

  I ran to the gate and the people screamed at me immediately for rescue. They wanted to me to open the gate.

  I tried to get one guy’s attention, but the screaming of the crowd was nearly deafening. I laid the two of rifles down just inside the gate and grabbed the third one. I tried one more time to say something, but all they could do was shout and scream. I aimed the rifle into the air and fired off a quick burst. Nothing like firing off a gun to get someone’s attention.

  Those people at the front of the crowd shut up and looked at me. I stepped back a few feet and dropped the rifle with the other two, then ran up to the gate. I got as close as I could and picked the most rational looking face I could.

  “Hey you,” I shouted at a middle aged guy who looked not as scared shitless as the rest of them. “What’s your name?”

  “Roy,” he said looking at me, and took a quick peek behind.

  “Roy, I’m going to open the gate. I want you and whoever else here to run forward and grab those rifles. Okay?”

  “Sure, sure,” he said. “Just open the fucking gate.”

  I could have asked him to fly to the surface of the sun to collect a cup full of solar plasma and he would have said “yes”.

  “Roy, look at me.” He didn’t look my way as he was focused on what was behind him. “ROY, look at me!”

  He did, but all of his instincts wanted to just get the hell through the gate. Had our places been switched, I would have been the same, but I needed him to be calm and follow my directions.

  “I need you to be cool about this,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Once I open the gate, I need you and whoever else to come forward to grab the guns. Then I need you to move to the guard towers to side of the gate and cover everyone as they come through, okay?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Roy, I’m going to have to trust you.” I had no other choice. “Just be careful not to shoot any of the other people.”

  The screams at the back of the crowd intensified again. There was no more time.

  I ran to the main guard station looked frantically around for some sort of button to open the gate and fina
lly found it. It was a big red button with the word “OPEN” on a small plaque below it. I needed to take my own advice and calm down.

  I took one last look at outside the gate and into the faces of the refugees who were scrambling anyway they could to get inside, but making no progress. Then I looked at the exterior gate. I could see the glow of the taillights of truck in the distance, like two red demon eyes in the night. It was now or never. I slammed my hand down on the button and tore out of the guard station, sprinting like the devil was chasing me.

  I didn’t look back.

  It was about seventy yards from the guard station to the north exit and another fifty to the back of the truck. Mack couldn’t have parked any closer?

  When I made it twenty five yards, I heard the chatter of gunfire behind me. No bullets came in my direction so I could only guess that the refugees were taking on the zombies.

  My legs and lungs started to protest the output of energy. Although we hadn’t been in the camp all that long, there had been no place or time to get any exercise. There was no resting though, as the screams of panic got louder as I assumed the refugees were pouring through the gate into the north guard post.

  I whizzed out the gate and I quickly cut the gap to the truck when the damnedest thing happened. The brake lights went off on the truck and it started down the road.

  What the hell, Mack?

  It wasn’t going all that fast, but I knew if it got going, I was going to be eating road dust with a horde of panicked refugees and hungry zombies crawling up my ass in less than a minute. That wasn’t something I relished so I dug deep and put on my jets. Even with this burst of speed, I barely kept up with the truck’s progress. I could only keep this up so long as my lungs felt like they were going to explode and I was sure my legs would fall off any moment.

  The road curved gently and the truck picked up speed as it went along expanding its lead on me. The brake lights flashed on for a moment and the truck bucked, but then started forward again. I was able to cut the distance between me and the truck down some, but still had a ways to go. I couldn’t run off road without the fear of running across an unmarked landmine. I don’t know where I found the energy, but I kicked my speed up another notch.