Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 2): Burning Rubber

by Alex Westmore

  “They look pretty determined.”

  “Churchill!” Roper yelled. “We’re gonna need to chop a buncha heads off.” She glanced over at Zoe, who held her bat in front of her with both hands. She looked like a little leaguer on a team called the Pink Punks.

  “You ready, Z?”

  Her grin was almost chilling. “Always.”

  Zoe was the first to launch herself toward the oncoming crowd with reckless abandon. She was a veritable whirling dervish, nearly decapitating one and crushing the top of the skull of another with a healthy and powerful swing of her bat.

  It almost appeared as if she was enjoying it.

  Roper joined her, and a dozen were down before Churchill reached them.

  “Where’s Michael?” Roper sliced a head off and watched it clunk to the ground, its teeth still clacking together.

  “Couldn’t find him.” Churchill needed two whacks to remove the head of a zombie who looked an awful lot like Elvis. “They’re after someone,” he yelled above the moaning. “There’s gotta be a ZB nearby.”

  “Stay by the door, Churchill,” Roper ordered, “in case the ZBs are in the shop. Keep them inside. Zoe, it’s just me and you, sister.”

  Zoe grinned widely. Evidently, she was enjoying this. “This is almost as fun as lacrosse!” Like a killing machine, she tore into the growing crowd, bashing away, unafraid.

  Roper glanced at the Fuchs and contemplated using the machine gun, but she wasn’t quite ready to hit the panic button, and she was afraid the noise would only bring more and deplete their ammo.

  That notion changed very quickly.

  Suddenly, Roper felt the onslaught of the crowd pushing her along toward the Beast. She and Zoe would be surrounded by the horde if they didn’t move away. It was time to blast this mob so she could find the ZB hiding out somewhere and get them safely into the Fuchs.

  Shoving zombies out of the way and hacking those too stupid to move, she stopped dead when she saw the ramp to the Fuchs had been closed.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Roper, climb up!” Churchill yelled, hacking away at those who split off from the group to move into the archery store. There were easily fifty eaters milling about and moaning. Half were moving toward the store, the other half toward the Beast.

  “Shit. Zoe!” Roper called, jumping on the ladder of the Fuchs and peering over the crowd. “Get to the Beast!” Roper watched as Zoe bashed one head, whirled toward the Beast, and beat down two more. She was mighty for her size, and Roper admired her spunk.

  From her position on the ladder, Roper cleaved as many heads as she could, but her arms were tiring. This was going south, and fast, as more eaters joined the growing mob. She needed to get into the—

  THWUP.

  The sound gave Roper pause.

  THWUP. THWUP. THWUP.

  The zombies around the Fuchs began dropping to the ground, arrows sticking out of their heads.

  THWUP.

  THWUP. THWUP.

  Someone from the roof of the archery shop was picking off the zombies with unerring accuracy. The arrows came so quickly, Roper was certain there was more than one person doing the shooting.

  “Zoe, get over here! We’ve got back up!” Roper’s machetes felt like lead pipes in her hands as she created a path for Zoe, who was slowing down herself.

  Churchill managed to keep the eaters from getting by him and into the store, but even his thick arms were getting slower.

  “What the fuck is right!” Zoe growled, climbing up the ladder. She was covered in old blood––a maroonish color thick like syrup with various types of bodily detritus stuck in it.

  Roper pointed to the roof. “Someone’s covering us!” She squinted toward the roof but couldn’t see anyone.

  Zoe nodded before bashing another head. “I see that. I was asking why the fuck is the ramp closed up.”

  Roper gritted her teeth. “I think I know why, but come on. Let’s finish this.”

  The thwuping sounds continued for another minute. The two women leapt off the Beast and began lopping off heads of the remaining zombies near the Fuchs and the front door of the store while the arrows continued finding their marks on the eaters furthest away. Few missed their intended target.

  When the final zombie fell with an arrow through the temple, Roper and Zoe collapsed against the Beast, their arms throbbing, their clothes splattered with blood and brains.

  “I couldn’t lift a hand to brush off dandruff flakes,” Zoe said softly. “I’m wiped.”

  Roper rose and offered a hand to Zoe, who took it and rose slowly as well. Bodies and heads lay all around them, most with an arrow or bolt protruding from the head, some cleaved in two or crushed in with a bat. All were truly dead.

  “Whoever it is is a fine shot,” Roper said, pulling her keys out. “And whoever caused this mess is in for a shit load of trouble…did I say shit load? I mean boat load. Big boat. Roper called out, “Churchill? You good?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but no sign of Michael. Want me to—”

  “No, no. Stay where you are. I know where he is.”

  Just as Roper turned for the Fuchs’s door, there came an unfamiliar voice from behind her.

  “Stop where you are, ma’am. We don’t wanna kill any humans, but seein’ as you busted into our place and stole our weapons, the least you can do is answer some questions.”

  Roper laid her machetes on the ground and nodded to Zoe and Churchill to do the same. All three raised their hands in surrender.

  “Who am I speaking with?” Roper asked.

  “I’ll ask the questions. Who’s your leader?”

  Roper covered her eyes and tried to see who was on the roof. “My name is Roper.”

  “Well, Roper, if you’d kindly move to the front of the vehicle, I’ll come down to have a little face-to-face. Please have your people stand to the side. Should they make a move, they’ll end up just like one of those things. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  Roper motioned for Zoe and Churchill to stand aside. As soon as they were out of the way, a short man built like a bulldog approached Roper from the doorway. He was armed with a crossbow and carried multiple quivers on his body, including boots with built-in quivers. He looked like something out of a science fiction rendition of Snow White.

  “Fletcher’s the only name I go by now,” he said by way of introduction. “And I want to know how it is those things didn’t eat the three of you alive.”

  Roper looked up at the roof but saw nothing. “Why is that important? If you want your shit back, just say so. Otherwise, we’ll be on our way. We don’t want any trouble.”

  Fletcher stepped closer. He had a nose made of Silly Putty that sniffed the air like a dog. “You’re either incredibly brave or really stupid.”

  Roper closed the gap and looked down into his face. “Maybe a little of both, and we didn’t come to steal someone’s stuff. We doubted anyone human was still in New Orleans.”

  “As you can see, you’re wrong.”

  “Yeah, well, we sure as shit don’t owe you any explanations. We’ll just give you your things back—”

  He held up his hand. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. Maybe I should start again. I didn’t mean for it to sound like an interrogation. I watched you three dismantle those creatures before they went nuts over the fella who jumped into that grand vehicle of yours. I’ve never seen nothin’ like it. They didn’t even notice you. What’s your secret?”

  Roper motioned for the other two to join her. She decided truth was the better part of valor. “In two words, Mr. Fletcher, we’re gay.”

  Fletcher frowned. “You’re joking, right?”

  All three shook their heads. “No sir, we’re not.” Roper proceeded to explain the genetic coding they believed was responsible for the lack of aggression from the zombies. The entire time, Fletcher just slowly shook his head.

  “You don’t believe any of this, do you?”

  “Honey, all I know is them
things never took a second look at the three of you. It was like you were invisible.”

  “Well, we’re setting up base camp at Angola and intend on going on the offensive with our gay army.”

  “Garmy,” Churchill added, grinning. “It’s a great name for our gay army.”

  “Mind telling me how you’ve managed to stay alive in the city for almost a year? We haven’t seen a living soul in months,” Fletcher said.

  Roper took note of the pronoun. “You’re kidding.”

  Fletcher’s shoulders sagged slightly. “As soon as the outbreak occurred, we closed up shop and headed to the eight-foot by eight-foot safe my daddy built during the war. It’s hidden behind the false wall with the bows on it.”

  “You’ve been hiding in here for a year?” Zoe asked incredulously.

  Fletcher nodded and ran his hand over his hair. “At first, it was easy. We had enough food and water for a month.”

  “We?”

  Fletcher looked up at the roof. “Me and my son. We rationed and stayed down for two months. By the time we resurfaced, the whole city had gone to hell in a handbasket, so we collected dry goods from neighboring stores and snuck out at night to get water.”

  “You’ve been on your own all this time? Just the two of you?”

  “Come on down!” he called out, then turned back to Roper. “Hunter, that’s my son, has been begging me to let him go out and find others. He was certain there were survivors, but I was too afraid to let him go.”

  “As you can see, he was right. There are many of us. The problem is that we are scattered all about, making it difficult to band together to fight them.”

  Hunter suddenly appeared, his face lighting up when he saw Churchill. Roper noticed the look passing between them and took note of how handsome Hunter was. He had curly blonde hair, deep blue eyes and clearly took after his mother, as he looked nothing like his surly father.

  With introductions made, Roper returned her attention back to Fletcher. “So you came out when you heard all the noise?”

  “It’s been so quiet lately. They…they seem to be headed northeast. Suddenly, there weren’t as many around. I assumed it was because there was no more food for them.”

  Roper nodded. “You got that right. There is a military zone in the northeast. As the survivors head up there, so do the man eaters.”

  “So you’re not going?”

  “We’re not. We’re going to set up a base at Angola, build an army, get people stronger and healthier, and then fight back.”

  “Fight back?” Hunter, who looked to be in his early to mid-twenties, said. He wore his blonde hair short curly and swept to the side. His eyes were serious and keen like an eagle’s and never stopped moving. He stood several inches taller than his father. “I dig that idea.”

  Fletcher pulled a bolt, loaded it, and fired it into the forehead of an approaching zombie. “Hunter has his own tale to tell, but let’s not do it out here. They’re moving in and we need to collect the arrows and bolts.”

  Roper nodded to Churchill and Zoe, who immediately started pulling the arrows from the zombies’s heads.

  When Fletcher contemplated going back into the shop, Roper stood closer to him. “You’re more than welcome to have a seat in the Beast. I think we’ll be a bit safer there for the time being.”

  “That’ll work.”

  As Roper went to the front of the Fuchs, Churchill kept in step with her and asked, “You know that asshole is in there, right? Hiding like a fucking mouse.”

  Roper turned and smiled softly. “I am well aware. And we’ll deal with him later. Right now, we are on the verge of attaining two excellent shooters. That’s more important.”

  “Later? That asswipe locked us out! I thought you’d want to kick his ass into tomorrow.”

  Roper leaned closer. “Did you see what sharpshooters those two are? I want them to come with us. I don’t have time to worry about Michael’s cowardly choices. Right now, we’ve got an army to build and I think we can build it on the backs of those two men.”

  They’d taken longer to get out of the bayou than planned. Irritated, Butcher barked at everyone who moved too slowly for her.

  “What is the matter with you?” Luke yelled after Butcher jumped down the throat of one of their charges after she found her dangling her feet from the deck.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she snapped, moving aft to make sure all was clear behind them. Although the man eaters could not climb onto a ship from the water, she refused to become complacent. Complacency meant death.

  “Why do you keep shutting me out? Have I said something or done something—”

  Wheeling at him, Butcher yelled, “Done? Have you done something?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you don’t even know. Open your eyes.”

  “Know what? Can we please just have a conversation about whatever it is that’s crawled up your butt?”

  “It didn’t crawl up my butt, you moron. It swam up my vagina! You got me pregnant! Is that what you want to hear? There. I said it. It’s out in the open now. I. Am. Pregnant.” Turning away, Butcher continued aft, feeling the burn of shame on her face as she left Luke standing with his mouth open.

  After peering over the side, she closed her eyes and just let the tears come. It was over. She’d said it out loud and even childishly blamed him for it. Now they’d never—

  “You’re…pregnant?” His voice was so soft, so non-confrontational, she barely recognized it. “We…made a baby?” Gently and with hesitation, he turned her around and saw she was crying. His face fell. “Oh. I see. You…you don’t want it.”

  Butcher angrily wiped her face and spat, “Yes, I want it, you dolt! That’s why I said you wouldn’t understand. Wanting to bring a child into this fucked up world is the most selfish thing anyone could do right now.”

  Holding her by the shoulders, Luke stared hard into her eyes. “I know I’m a dolt, but can you at least tell me why you’re so angry? Help me understand. If you’re keeping it, shouldn’t you be happy? Shouldn’t we be happy? I so don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  Butcher exhaled loudly. “If this were the real world, yes, I’d be happy. I’d be ecstatic. I’d be beyond thrilled.”

  “But?”

  “But I have a job to do and the last thing I need is for you to start hovering over me and treating me like—”

  “Whoa. Wait a goddamned second. You’re pissed off because of how you think I might act? That is not only unfair but so not like you. Babe, can we back up for just one minute? There seem to be several carts before the horse here.”

  Butcher’s angry face softened as he spoke and managed a nod, blinking back tears.

  “First off, I am—” His eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. “Over the moon excited about having a baby with you, and it doesn’t matter if we’re in this shit bag country or on Mars. I can’t wait.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “As for treating you differently, you’re the most kick-ass woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some seriously hard core marines in my day. I respect you too much to treat you differently because you’re pregnant. You know me better than that.”

  Two tears dropped from her lashes.

  “I love you, Butcher. I have loved you since the moment we met, and if you’re going to be brave enough to carry my child through this mess, the very least I can do is support you the way you want me to. I am man enough to know that my woman, even pregnant, could kick my ass if I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Butcher wiped her eyes. “I could kick your ass even when you are.”

  Luke laughed and pulled her tighter, kissing her deeply.

  She leaned out of his embrace to look him in the eye. “I just want you to treat me the same as you always have. If I do something dangerous, I don’t want a lecture. I don’t want to be scolded. That will kill us for sure.”

  Luke nodded. “Agreed. What else?”

  “Please don’t monitor my food, my drink
, my exercise. Don’t hover, don’t lecture, don’t assume you know my body better than me and do not, under any circumstances, ask Dallas for a lighter load for me. I am a grown woman. I do not need a babysitter.” More hot tears fell.

  Luke gently pulled her to him and stroked her back. “Of course you don’t. My God, Butcher, all this time I thought I’d done something to push you away. I thought maybe you were tired of me and didn’t know how to break it off.” Squeezing her tightly, he stepped back and wiped her tears. “We’re having a baby.” Her tears were now his. “What a gift.”

  “A gift? Really? It doesn’t scare you?”

  “Hell yes. It scares the shit out of me. But so did sky diving. It’s exciting and scary all at the same time. And…I totally get why you freaked out, but I’m not going to treat you any differently, and if I slip and do, I’m sure you’ll put me in my place.”

  “Damn straight I will.”

  Leaning over, Luke kissed her long and deep, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her closer to him. When the kiss ended, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Who else knows?”

  Butcher groaned. “You do know me, that’s for sure. I spoke to Dallas, only because—” He put his finger to her lips. “No need to explain. I’m glad they know.”

  “I need to tell everyone else. Will you…will you do it with me?”

  His smile was all the answer she needed.

  Before opening the door to the Fuchs, Roper said to the small group, “No one says a word about what Michael did. I’ll handle this when we are through here. Understood?”

  They all nodded.

  When everyone was piled in the back of the Fuchs, Michael stood. “I can exp—”

  “Sit. Down.” Roper’s voice slid icy cold between her clenched teeth.

  When Michael sat back down, Zoe sat on one side of him while Churchill sat on the other and glared at Michael’s profile. The air was thick and muggy.

  “So, Hunter, you’ve obviously managed to keep you and your father alive by sliding in and out around them unnoticed,” Roper said.