Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 2): Burning Rubber
Page 28
“How did you communicate with them?
He sighed. “They flew over and dropped a package of long range walkie talkies. I really had no choice but to give them over. They were willing to protect both states from infection.”
“We are going to need them back, sir. You know that, right?”
He folded his hands on the table, suddenly looking even older and grayer than when he first arrived. “What all do you need?”
“Weapons, ammo, big guns, big bombs. Planes if you can spare them, tanks, anything your military has that will help us get the job done. Deliver half here. I’ll let you know where the other half needs to go before you leave. We’ll need to coordinate communications, and I won’t have any interference from the military or your people. Nothing. You supply us the bodies, the equipment, and the weapons, and we’ll train them to be zombie killers.”
He chuffed. “Gee, is that all?”
“Nothing less than total equality. In the end, sir, we’ll be the majority anyway. Might as well be able to say you made it happen first.”
The President rose and shook her hand. “That’s a deal. You have my word on it.”
Dallas shook his hand. “Sorry if this feels disrespectful, sir, but after years of being promised Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, you’ll have to forgive me if I ask you to put your word in writing.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Of course.”
After dinner, when the President finished signing everything Dallas put in front of him, he turned to her and said, “You’d have made one helluva politician.”
She smiled softly. “I was one helluva firefighter, sir. That was good enough for me.”
“Well, Dallas, I hope you get to return to that someday. We won’t soon forget the sacrifices you’ve made to our country.”
She shrugged. “I’m still alive, Mr. President. Right now, that’s good for today.”
As a surprise for the rest of the group, the Chips gave a performance and then they handed the stage over to the President, who answered questions for over an hour. They weren’t easy ones, either. He was drilled. Relentlessly. And when it was finally over, Fletcher showed the President and Sean to their quarters, where they slept until the breakfast bell rang.
When President Rainier and his plane lifted off, Dallas looked down at the signature on the crooked line, making her Commander-in-Chief of the gayest army in the universe.
Suddenly all she could do was laugh.
Three months later, when the Fuchs was geared up and ready to roll, when the weapons and ammo were securely stored in a dozen military trucks, when the two thousand gay soldiers had trained with Dallas’s people, she and a small contingency were finally ready to move on out to secure the next prison.
All month long, people had been asking Dallas where they were going, and she had never told another soul––not Roper, not Butcher, not even Einstein. She wanted everyone’s focus on the training and the preparation, on the present. When, at long last, they were one night away from leaving, Dallas took Roper to the highest building in the prison, spread out a blanket on the roof, and laid on her back to look up at the stars.
“Lay here with me, love.”
Roper eased herself next to Dallas and lay in the crook of her shoulder. There were more stars in the sky than she could ever remember seeing. “Wow. I forget how beautiful the sky is when there are no city lights.”
Rolling over on her side, Dallas traced Roper’s jaw line with two fingers. “I never forget how beautiful you are. I just wanted to bring you up here to thank you for all the support and love you’ve given me since we came here. It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve built a whole life here.”
“Yes we have. It’s strange to think we’ll be leaving it. I’ve sorta gotten used to the routine, the food, and--I’ll deny saying this--I’m going to really miss the entertainment.”
“The Chips are coming with us.”
“Not them. The drama boys. I’ve loved their romances.”
Dallas smiled and leaned over to kiss Roper. “Your secret is safe with me, you little romantic. That’s one of the reasons I brought you up here.”
“To be romantic?”
Dallas sat up. “I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you think about my choice of the next prison we’re going to take over.”
Roper sat up and tilted her head. “Gotta say, love, you have my attention. What are you getting at?”
“Over a year ago, I promised you if we could ever go back and get your horses that I would do everything in my power to make that happen.”
Roper’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ve missed them so much. I love Charger and all, but she’s not mine. Not really.”
Slowly wiping a tear perched on her lower eyelash, Dallas smiled softly. “I know. That’s why we’re going to Alcatraz. We’re heading back home to California.”
Roper’s chin dropped open. “What? Please tell me you’re not kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. Tomorrow morning, when we pull out of here, we’ll be heading west, west to the coast, west to San Francisco, west to––”
“Home.” Roper’s voice was soft and wistful. She couldn’t believe Dallas had been planning this all along––a way to get them back to California where they had left everything behind.
Everything.
She threw her arms around Dallas’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t believe you kept this a secret for so long!”
Dallas pulled back and kissed her deeply, her hands running through Roper’s hair. “I only made the decision after a long and often heated debate with Luke.”
“Because it’s so far away?”
Dallas shook her head. “He wanted Texas. I want to go as far West as we can because the eaters are clearly moving east. We’ve all seen it and talked about it at great length. It’s like a migratory pattern, only once they get there, they will start killing everyone they can get their hands on. I want to be as far away from that as possible. I think the only way to save this country is to divide it in half, and we are going to go the half that will be safer.”
“But we’re supposed to be killing them. Doesn’t it make more sense to go where they are and––”
“The American military can do that. The folks at Angola can do that. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel in New England. They don’t need us for that. They need us to clean out the dark corners where danger lurks. They need us to clean the state that, if it wasn’t part of the United States, would have been the ninth wealthiest nation.”
“California does have everything it needs to be self-sufficient.”
Dallas tucked a stray hair behind Roper’s ear. “It does, and I’m willing to take our folks and move in the opposite direction because I don’t want our backs to them. Ever. I want to start on the island of Alcatraz as a base and clean up San Francisco first. We need to get a city on its feet, and since all bridges leading to it were destroyed during the initial viral outbreak, it’s the perfect place to start cleaning.”
Roper swallowed hard. “My horses…”
Dallas kissed the tip of her nose. “Exactly. We’ve done great stuff here. We’ve trained an army. We’ve made deals with the President. Now it’s time for me to take my girl, my family, and go home. It won’t be easy, and we’ll have to kill a lot of those things along the way, but I think it’s worth the risk. If we are going to take back our land, I’d rather we do so in our own backyards.”
Roper blinked back the tears. “And you think we’ll find my horses?”
“If I have anything to say about it, my love, we’re going to find your horses and a whole lot more.” Holding Roper to her, Dallas looked up at the stars and made a promise to herself that, come Hell or high water, she would take her family home.
Home.
If she was going to die anywhere, it might as well be there.
MORE FROM ALEX WESTMORE
THE PLUNDERED CHRONI
CLES
The Pirate’s Booty
Shiver her Timbers
Fire in the Hole
THE TIMELESS LOVE SAGA
Together in Time
The Future of Yesterday
Back to You
THE DELTA STEVENS CRIME LOGS
Miles to Go
Con Game
Not in the Cards
RIDERS OF THE APOCALYPSE
Ride for Tomorrow
Burning Rubber
Eat Asphalt
THE SILVER LEGACY
Darkness Descends
The Demon Within
Blood of the Demon
THE UMBRA MORTIS SAGA
The Death Collector
The Death Committee
The Death Continuum
The Handler
Dead Again
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alex Westmore has lived in a haunted house, has a raging empath for a best friend, and eats up paranormal experiences with a huge supernatural spoon. To get closer to the action, she has spent time with Voodun in New Orleans, medicine men in the Southwest, and a Shaman in the Amazon.
Alex is a five-time award winning author of several series, from zombies to demons to empaths, oh my! When she isn’t writing, she’s thinking about writing and imagining where her next great adventure will take her.
Spice up your life! Join Alex on her next amazing adventure…you will be so glad you did. The journey begins at www.AlexWestmore.net.
@AlexWestmore10
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www.AlexWestmore.net
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Burning Rubber
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