Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 2): Burning Rubber

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Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 2): Burning Rubber Page 18

by Alex Westmore

Much to Dallas’s surprise, the outer fences were still strong and intact, with very little repair required. They’d been in the Fuchs thirty minutes when a Range Rover pulled up next to them with Henry and Kevin inside.

  “Yo, Dallas. Got ‘er up and runnin’.”

  Dallas stared at the car and grinned at the mechanic from the new group. “Nice work.”

  “We took it for a spin and ran into a family down the way who says there was some kinda explosion off the coast a ways last night.”

  Roper and Dallas exchanged worried glances. “What kind of explosion?”

  “They heard from some folks that one of them boats blew up.”

  Dallas reached for Roper’s hand. “Be more specific.”

  “That’s all they said. A boat blew up.”

  “A boat or a destroyer?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Just said it blew.”

  “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “You don’t think––” Roper started, but Dallas cut her off.

  “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Until we hear otherwise, everyone on The Survivor is fine and healthy.”

  Roper cussed under her breath and walked away.

  “Sorry, Dallas. I didn’t mean to make her mad,” Henry said.

  “She’s not mad. She just worries. So, what do you have?”

  Henry licked his chapped lips. “We’ll do a recon around the fence to double check their resilience. Then we’ll start on the opposite side. We got eaters butting up against the fence line we need to take care of first.” He spat. “Dumbass sumbitches just keep tryin’ to walk through the fence.”

  “Just mark the area needing repairs with this blue tape.” Dallas tossed him the roll she’d picked up earlier. “And we’ll fix it when we reach it.” She had Ferdie go with them as support.

  The next hour was spent repairing a small gap in the fence and killing off four undead caught in a roll of rusty razor wire laying on the ground. The zombies, incapable of freeing themselves and not understanding the nature of the razor wire, had exposed bones, strips of hanging flesh, and large gashes on their bodies. One had only a bra and boots on while another, wearing some sort of tattered jeans, was missing his left arm.

  “How long do you suppose they’ve been there?” Zoe asked. Her pink Mohawk waved in the slight breeze.

  “By the looks of their clothes, quite a while. Based on the gap we just closed and their position, it looks like a small horde was chasing someone.”

  Roper smiled over at Dallas, her frustration about the boat blowing up put on the shelf. “The kid’s taught you a lot. I’m impressed.”

  “I have a feeling,” Churchill said from the back, “that we’re going to face a pretty large horde in the main building.”

  “We probably will, but once we clean out this area, we’ll have a good sized piece of real estate to call home.”

  They worked non-stop for a few more hours until they met back up with Henry and Kevin.

  “Okay, fellas,” Dallas said, “I have another job for you. This fence was not built to sustain the kind of pressure hordes will put on it. Its greatest weakness is collapsing in on us. I want it reinforced with whatever poles, wood stakes, or beams you find on the property. Use anything you can to shore up the fence in the event a mob presses into it. I’ll give you Churchill and three of the ZBs. Meet us back at the crow’s nest in—” Dallas checked her watch, “three hours.”

  Three hours later, dirty, dusty, hot, and tired, the group met at the crow’s nest where Otis excitedly told them he had spotted the boat. The weight that lifted off Dallas’ shoulders was tremendous, and Roper squeezed her shoulder in anticipation of reuniting with the others.

  “Excellent. Thank God. I was beginning to think I’d made a huge mistake.”

  “Ma’am, if it’s all the same to you, I think I oughta stay up here until dusk. I can see for a long way from up here and can sound an alarm if’n I see a horde.”

  “We’ll find you an alarm tomorrow, Otis. For now, stay until dusk, but be careful coming down.”

  He saluted. “You got it.”

  Dallas gave Roper the task of meeting the boat so she could return to Camp F to make sure everything was progressing at a quick pace. Dusk would be there soon enough and there was still so much to do to secure everyone’s safety.

  “You take all the CGIs,” Dallas told Roper, “since we don’t know the status of the shoreline. Empty the boat out entirely in one run. I don’t want anyone going back and forth. It’s far too dangerous. Whatever you leave there stays there until we can get back to it.”

  “Want me to take the bus?”

  “No. Cram the supplies into the Beast and have everyone walk back. We’ll have the machine gun manned for protection, but I’d rather they not be trapped in the bus.”

  “Roger that.” Giving Dallas a quick peck, Roper put Zoe in the co-pilot seat and Churchill on the turret.

  “Hurry home,” Dallas said softly.

  Roper smiled. “Home. I like that.”

  Butcher lowered her binoculars and grinned widely, feeling the unfamiliar warmth of hope wash over her. “They made it.”

  “You sound relieved.”

  Butcher held the binoculars out to Einstein and laid her hand on her belly. She was surprised by how often she did this lately now that the secret was out. There was something comforting about knowing the baby was there.

  She pointed. “See the Fuchs coming down to the bank? That’s either our people or someone coming to steal our shit.”

  Einstein’s smile matched Butcher’s and he surprised both of them by squeezing her hand. “Oh hell yeah. They just traveled through a minefield. We should have known not to worry. Dallas rocks.”

  “Yes she does.”

  Einstein looked at her. “You know, for the longest time I thought you were in love with her.”

  Butcher looked away. “Who, Dallas? You know I’m not gay.”

  Einstein shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love with someone of the same gender.”

  She turned back to him. “Why in the hell would you think that about me?”

  “Because there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her. Because I see how you look at her. It’s more than admiration. It’s love, Butcher. Real, bona fide love.”

  Butcher playfully pushed him away. “You don’t know.”

  “I know you’d die for her.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  He nodded. “In a heartbeat. She’s the reason for the season. We’d all be dead without her.”

  “And without you, kid. Those first days, without you, we’d all be dead. See, you ask if I’d die for her, I would…but I’d die for you as well…and trust me…I am not in love with you.”

  When Roper spilled out of the Fuchs, Butcher and Einstein raised their clasped hands and hooted and hollered. The entire ship broke into yelling and clapping, and Luke hit the ship’s horn three times before remembering the sound could alert nearby zombies.

  “Nice boat,” Zoe said, standing next to Roper. “Helluva nice boat, really.”

  “Not nearly as nice as the people on it. Ferdie, you and Hunter make sure the dock is free of any eaters. Zoe, you and Jamie find a plank of some sort long enough to reach them. Churchill, you cover everyone with a sniper rifle. Expect them to come out of the river just like they did from the bayou.”

  When everyone took off, Roper ran to the very edge, waving to Butcher and Einstein. “Miss us?” Butcher yelled.

  “Like you read about!” Roper said, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Look, Dallas wants everything off in one trip, so have everyone grab as much as they can carry. You can put most of it in the Fuchs and on top, but no one is to return to the ship.”

  Butcher nodded and began barking orders to her people as Luke tried to maneuver the boat closer to the shore. As he did, the engine grinded for a moment just as blood and hair floated to the surface.

  Just as Roper had thought, there were
zombies along the river’s edge, and apparently some had gotten too close to the propeller.

  With the plank in place, and three water-logged zombies shot before they could reach the pier, everyone was ready to make a mad dash down the plank and to the Beast.

  “Zoe, you help organize the supplies going in the Fuchs. Everyone will have to walk back to Camp F so we can get everything off the boat and into the Beast.”

  Suddenly, several shots from the turret rang out and everyone who had a gun or long- range weapon pivoted in the direction of the gunfire.

  “Eaters! Eleven o’clock!” Churchill cried, pointing to the fourteen undead struggling to climb out of the water and up the bank. Churchill shot six times and took out three of them. Roper laid waste to the fourth, a female zombie who had clearly been in the water too long. Her face was bloated and partially eaten by something inhabiting the water. She had only one eye left.

  “Everyone else, keep moving! Just get the supplies and have them ready to be offloaded! We’ll take care of the eaters.”

  Hunter shot four more, and ten seconds later, the rest were taken out as well, but it was clear this wasn’t going to be an easy journey back to the prison gates as more and more man eaters made their way out of the water.

  “Hunter?”

  “On it.” Soon, Hunter was sending arrows into the heads of those zombies coming up the other bank. While there weren’t enough to alarm Roper yet, it was evident by the remnants of their jumpsuits that they were inmates who had become infected and followed something or someone into the river where they remained until new prey came into view.

  “Stay on the boat until we clear the area.”

  It took less than ten minutes to clear the area, but occasionally, one or two zombie heads would emerge from the water, and Churchill or Hunter would put them down.

  When the last of the ammo and bags of smoked alligator were loaded on top of the Fuchs, Butcher ran down the plank and threw her arms around Roper, followed by Einstein, who threw his around them both and hugged them tightly.

  “Goddamn, it’s good to see you,” Butcher said, pulling back to search Roper’s eyes for answers to her as-of-yet unasked questions. They’d been together long enough to not need words about Dallas.

  “She’s fine.” Roper answered, knowingly. “Just back at camp getting things ready for your arrival. You know, being Miss Bossy Cakes.”

  “You made it unharmed? Any losses?”

  Roper shook her head. “No hard losses. Dallas was cut pretty badly on her forearm. Some bitch got her with a butcher knife. Hunter hurt his forehead, but other than that, we’re good.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “More pissed off than anything, but it bled a great deal. She’s not acting like it hurts, but I know she’s not feeling very well. Lost a lot of blood.”

  “I’ll have a look at it first thing. We don’t want it getting infected.”

  Roper looked at the overburdened Fuchs. “I don’t remember packing that much stuff.”

  Einstein beamed. “Because you didn’t. We…um…made a pit stop along the way.”

  “A pit stop? It wouldn’t have anything to do with a blown up boat we heard about, would it?”

  Butcher pulled a face. “It’s a long story that only Luke can tell.”

  “Uh oh.”

  Butcher nodded. “Uh oh pretty much sums it up. He blew up a destroyer.”

  Roper’s jaw dropped. “A what?”

  Butcher shook her head in disgust. “Like I said––it’s Luke’s story to tell.”

  “Good enough. You two ready to see our new home?”

  “Is it as good as our old one?”

  Roper nodded. “Better. Much better.”

  While everyone was settling in to Camp F, oohing and aahing over being able to sleep on mattresses and off the ground, Butcher tended to Dallas’s arm with Roper in attendance.

  “Jesus, Dal, this is bad,” Butcher said after she unwrapped Dallas’s arm. The blood had caked on the gauze, requiring Butcher to soak it first before peeling it off.

  Roper took one look at the cleaned out wound and saw the red skin around the jagged opening. “I think it’s infected.”

  Butcher put her nose up to the wound and sniffed it. “It’s pretty bad.” She examined it from side-to-side. “More than likely the knife was dirty and clearly, not sharp. We’re going to need antibiotics.”

  “How bad? She’s not going to lose it, is she?” Roper’s voice held panic barely in check. “We don’t have any antibiotics here, or at least not that I have found. If I can make my way to the medical facility, I can probably––”

  “Whoa, love. Take a breath.” Dallas held her hand out to Roper. “You’re not going off half-cocked. Come. Sit.”

  Reluctantly, Roper sat next to Dallas and held her other hand. “I’m sorry. I just…it looks horrible.”

  “Well then, now might be a perfect time for Luke to tell his story.” With only a look Einstein, who stood by the door, took off in search of him.

  “We’ll clean this out, sew her up, and toss some antibiotics down your gullet, and you’ll be as good as new. We just need to keep it clean and keep your girl calm.”

  “We have antibiotics?” Roper’s voice cracked. “Seriously?”

  Butcher grinned. “You can thank Luke for possibly saving your girl’s arm and potentially starting a war all in one fell swoop.”

  Dallas squeezed Roper’s hand “Did you hear that? Luke may have––” She stopped and looked hard into Butcher’s eyes. “Did you say start a war?”

  After Luke finished with his tale, Dallas asked one question. “Did you get that out of your system?”

  “Butcher asked me the same thing,” he said. “It wasn’t about getting it out of my system, Dallas. Think of what our own military saw. We have to assume everyone is going, WTF? We have to assume that now everyone is wondering what those dastardly Americans are up to.”

  “To what end? What purpose did it ultimately serve?”

  Luke paced back and forth across the conference room where Butcher was tending to Dallas. “To the end where everyone is aware that we are still here, and we’re not going to be prisoners any longer. To the end that we just put the world on notice that we aren’t waiting around to die while they do nothing but watch.”

  “Don’t you suppose there’s a reason why our own military hasn’t rocked the boat?”

  “Actually, I have. Look, we know the hordes are migrating toward them. The military is busy doing two things: protecting the president and fighting off the man eaters. The latter would sure be easier if any other country decided to help us instead of rubbing their collective hands together waiting to get our goodies when we finally die.”

  “Not so sure I agree with your method, Luke, but I do understand your madness.”

  Dallas looked around her at the prison. “We’re living a gigantic irony here.”

  “Sit still,” Butcher ordered, pouring peroxide over the wound. It bubbled and foamed over the angry gash. “Compliments of my crazy ass lover from the ship he singlehandedly sank.”

  Luke knelt down so he was eye to eye with Dallas. “Just trust me on this, Dallas. It put everyone on notice that we are not ready to roll over and die. We need to see how they react, what they do. If we are going to take our nation back, we have to make sure the other enemy isn’t coming at our backs.”

  “I understand what you’re saying but––” She winced when Butcher pushed the needle through her skin to sew her up. “You sure that’s a good thing?”

  “Anything is better than what we’ve been doing. Maybe if other nations saw how hard we are fighting to survive, someone will come to our aid. There has to be one ally out there who wants to help us get our lives back.”

  “I am not so sure there is, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Dallas looked down at the slice in her arm Butcher was attempting to close up. “We’ll just have to wait and see the fall out. Roper, would you call everyone to t
he main dormitory? I want to meet with everyone in fifteen minutes.”

  Butcher shook her head. “Make it twenty-five.”

  When Roper took Luke and Einstein with her, Dallas studied Butcher’s face as she stared intently at her needle going in and out of Dallas’s arm. “He must have given you quite a scare.”

  Butcher nodded, not looking up. “More than you know. I can’t believe he’s suddenly this big risk taker.”

  “You can’t? Butcher, you’re carrying his child. I think he must feel the need to do something to make the world a better place. The timing of his little maneuver isn’t coincidental, you know.” Dallas winced as the needle poked into her raw skin.

  “I know, and though I get it, I’d like the father to be alive to see his child born.”

  Dallas inhaled a painful breath as Butcher kept sewing. “I’ll have a talk with him later,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Butcher shook her head. “No need. Brainiac gave me some food for thought about the whole thing. He actually accused me of emasculating Luke. Is there anything that kid doesn’t know?”

  Dallas winced again. “I doubt it. What were his words of advice?”

  Butcher sewed four more stitches in silence before finally answering. “You know how that kid is never wrong? Well, I don’t think he is this time either. He came to me and said he thinks we should put Luke in charge of the garmy.”

  The request took Dallas aback. “But he’s not—”

  “I know he’s not gay, but he is a soldier…a living, breathing soldier who needs to be more than just a part of our troops. He needs to lead. Maybe if he was leader, he wouldn’t take such risks.” Butcher’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Goddammit, Dallas, I love that man. I wish I didn’t, but it’s too late for wishes. In my attempt to keep him alive, I am slowly killing him. I can’t do that to him. If you offer it up to him, and he says ‘no thanks,’ then great. But if he says yes, as I suspect he will, then so be it. I’d rather he die doing what he loves than living in chains.”

  Dallas slowly nodded. “I don’t really know what to say to that, except you’re a bigger person than I am. I’ll talk to Luke, but he’ll have to agree if we are doing recon or need to be ZB-free, that he’ll have to stay back with the rest of them, and that will be my call. I won’t have that argument with him. If he is willing to do that, I’ll put Fletcher in charge of the ZB main shooting squad.”

 

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