The Brother's Creed (Book 2): Battleborn

by Joshua C. Chadd

  “Can I take a look?” Alexis asked, walking over.

  “Sure,” James said.

  She set her rifle on the tailgate and pulled out a flashlight from a pouch on her belt. She bent down, prodding the two small holes with experienced fingers. It hurt him slightly but wasn’t terrible. Clicking the flashlight off, she straightened up, replacing it at her belt.

  “Doesn’t look like much damage was done, although there’s a fair amount of bruising. What’d you do?” Alexis asked, picking up her rifle.

  “Someone tried to kill me, only they failed quite spectacularly. They did manage to catch my leg with a part of the shotgun blast though,” James said, putting his pant leg back down and standing up to close the tailgate. “Thanks for looking at it. You seem to know what you’re doing.”

  “Thanks. I spent the last two years training to be a paramedic and recently took my licensing exam.”

  “Did you pass?”

  “I did. I was actually going to start work Monday. Then all this happened.”

  “Yeah, the outbreak really messed life up, didn’t it?”

  “You got that right.”

  “Well, it’s good to have someone along who knows what they’re doing when one of us gets hurt,” James said, going over to top off the tank of his truck.

  “Thanks,” Alexis said, smiling, and walked over to her dad’s truck.

  “Hear anything from your friend?” Emmett asked as he hung up the nozzle.

  “Yeah, a couple hours ago,” James said, “He’s south of Sheridan and planning to stop at the Montana border. If we travel through the night, we should catch up with them by morning.”

  “Good,” Emmett said. “More people might not be a bad thing.”

  “Or it might be a horrible thing,” Connor said from the back of the truck.

  “He has a point,” Ana said.

  “We’ll see,” James said. “We need to get to Tank first. Then we can figure out the rest.”

  “Is that his real name?” Alexis asked.

  “No,” James said, thinking back to years prior. “It’s his nickname. All three of us have one.”

  “Were you guys in a gang or something?” Ana asked.

  “Something like that,” James said, chuckling.

  “So what are they?” Alexis asked.

  “Mine’s Hunter, because, well, I like to hunt and it sounds cool,” James said, just then realizing how dorky it sounded. “I swear that sounded better in my head.”

  The girls laughed.

  “And yours?” Ana asked Connor.

  “Iceman,” he said simply.

  “And?” Ana asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.

  “Because my heart is frozen and I don’t give a shit,” Connor said.

  “So like a honey badger crossed with Elsa,” Ana said.

  James burst out laughing and the rest joined in.

  “Not quite,” Connor said, smiling slightly. “I got it in the Marines and it stuck. Made sense when I started flying, too.”

  “Why did it make sense then?” Alexis asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” James asked. “You’ve never seen Top Gun?”

  “No,” Alexis said.

  “Really? And you call yourself an American?” James asked.

  “To be fair,” Emmett said, “she did watch it when she was younger. I made sure—”

  Groaning could be heard from the direction of the gas station building and they all moved into action at once, raising their guns.

  “You girls good for now on a bathroom?” Emmett asked.

  “I can make it another hour,” Alexis said, getting into the truck.

  “Me too,” Ana said, climbing in.

  “Let’s go then,” James said.

  Loading into their respective trucks, they drove out of the station and back onto I-80. Connor turned the radio on. The iPod that was hooked up to the truck automatically started playing their Apocalypse Road Trip playlist and Zombie by We As Human blared through the speakers. With music playing and headlights cutting through the darkness, they continued on their way, one step closer to their destination.

  James still couldn’t believe the events of the day before. From both of their parents and Felicia being killed to rescuing Emmett and the girls to Tank still being alive, it had gone from ‘nothing to live for’ to ‘maybe there’s still hope’ rather quickly. It’d been a rush, going from that low of a low to the high of saving three people and finding out that their best friend was alive. But now the high was wearing off and reality was settling in. Their parents were dead, forever gone from this world, and there was nothing he could do to get them back.

  But they’re not gone, said a small voice in his head.

  He ignored that voice, which was becoming increasingly easier with each passing hour. Why should he hope? There might be something to live for today, but what about when more people died tomorrow? What about when Ana died? Or Emmett? Alexis? Connor? Even just thinking about losing his brother made him want to cry.

  No, I can’t think like that. . . But what if? What if he did die? Then I will end it all, taking out as many as I can.

  As the night continued, his thoughts strayed down darker paths, leaving him feeling like he wanted to cry—but he couldn’t. If he opened the floodgates now, he might never get them closed. So he buried the feelings, trying his best to put on a happy face. It didn’t work, but at least he held back the tears. Glancing over at his brother, he could tell Connor was struggling also.

  I need to stay strong for him, he thought. Even though he may handle this better, he’s still my little brother.

  “You okay, bro?” James asked, watching as the headlights shone on a plethora of abandoned vehicles with a few zombies roaming around.

  “What do you think?” Connor asked, a bitter edge to his voice.

  “I think we’re both in a bad place right now . . .” He wanted to say more to somehow help them both work through this, but the conversation withered inside him.

  Settling into his seat, he let his mind wander while he drove through the obstacle course that was the interstate. Once they met up with Tank, they would continue making their way to Alaska. It would take some work, but after they were all safely at their remote lodge they could have a somewhat normal life. His thoughts drifted off as the night deepened.

  He was thinking about how good a Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza sounded when he stiffened in his seat, headlights shining on hundreds of eyes—eyes belonging to a horde of zombies. He cursed loudly.

  Connor jerked awake, reaching for a weapon as the truck rolled to a stop and the zombies began shambling toward the light. Connor registered the scene in a matter of seconds and grabbed the radio off the dash.

  “Emmett, you copy?” Connor said.

  “Roger that,” Emmett said. “What you got up there?”

  “A whole lotta zombies.”

  “Can we get through ‘em?”

  “No way. We need to get outta here, fast.”

  James had the truck in reverse and was backing up, but with all the vehicles on the road it was slow going in the dark. The zombies were only five yards away and closing, rather quickly by zombie standards. Finally, James found an opening and whipped the truck into it, turning around.

  “Where’s the nearest exit?” James asked his brother.

  Connor pulled out a road atlas and began to study it. “Where are we?”

  “Just crossed into Wyoming on I-80.”

  “Have we gone past Burns?”

  “Yes, a couple miles back.”

  “Good, we—”

  “Connor, you there?” Ana asked over the radio.

  “Roger,” Connor replied.

  “We found an exit, number 386. It’ll take us north on highway 213.”

  “That’s what I found too. Go through Burns and get on I-25 at Chugwater.”

  “Yep,” Ana said. “Guess we’ll lead. Plan to stop in Burns for a bathroom break.”


  “Roger that,” Connor said, sticking the atlas between the seats.

  They rode in silence for the next couple of minutes until they saw the exit and the black Ford waiting for them. The truck exited the interstate and James followed.

  “It seems like there are more of them now,” James said.

  “Of course there are. Fewer survivors usually means more zombies,” Connor responded.

  “It just seems like it happened all of a sudden. Maybe the last few towns holding out have all turned.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me. Things are going to hell real quick.”

  James nodded. How true that statement really was. Was this hell on earth? Was this the End Times? Or was any of that even true? His beliefs still felt true, but doubt was gnawing at him. That worried him more than the zombies ever could.

  After two miles, they arrived at the tiny town of Burns with a population of three hundred and one, according to the sign. The highway continued north, passing the town on the eastern side. In the darkness, it was hard to tell how big the town actually was. What stuck out to James most was the faint light coming from a large building just to the left of the highway. Emmett came to a stop in front of him. James pulled alongside and Connor rolled down his window.

  “What do you think?” James asked Emmett.

  “Not sure what to think,” Emmett replied, studying the partially fenced-in field and playground on the east side of the large building.

  “Looks like a school,” James said, noticing the buses parked out front.

  “Maybe they’ll have medical supplies and food in the cafeteria,” Alexis said.

  “Those lights mean someone is in there or recently has been,” Connor said.

  “True,” James said. “The horde was south of here on the interstate, heading east. We should be good for a few minutes, but I don’t think we should stick around long. The question is, do we move on or check out the lights?”

  “All I know is if I don’t use the bathroom soon,” Ana said, “I’ll need a new pair of pants.”

  “Can’t you just squat behind the truck?” Connor asked.

  Ana gave him a particular look. “I could, but I’d much rather not.”

  “I say some of us go in and check it out while the rest stay with the vehicles, just in case,” James said. “We can take the radios. Then, if the horde approaches, we can get out quickly.”

  Emmett nodded. “Sounds good.”

  They pulled forward, turning onto Fourth Street, and stopped in the small parking lot on the north side of the road. There were only three cars there and no zombies in sight. Another large parking lot sat farther to the west, with two buses parked by the main entrance to the school. Turning the truck off, James grabbed a set of night vision goggles from the backseat. He stepped out of the truck, turning his Kryptek ball cap backwards. After putting the NVGs onto his head, he grabbed his AR. He was glad he’d already adjusted the NVG optics so they didn’t interfere with his glasses. His brother walked around the front of the truck and they stood there, looking toward the school.

  They were dressed in their full Kryptek camouflage outfits, decked out with their tactical vests, side arms, tomahawks, NVGs and suppressed AR-15s. They’d attached infrared lasers to their AR rails, opposite the flashlights, since they wouldn’t be able to aim through their scopes with the NVGs. The IR lasers were part of the loot they’d gathered from the courthouse basement in Nebraska.

  Emmett turned his truck off and the night was plunged into darkness. James flipped the optics down over his eyes and his view was bathed in a green light, the darkness becoming illuminated. Every time he put those on it was almost like he was traveling to an alien planet with a green sun. Turning his infrared laser on, a faint green line pointed from the end of his barrel. He brought the AR to his shoulder and tried to get used to aiming with the laser. It took him a second but he quickly got the hang of it.

  Sweeping the surrounding area, laser pointing where he was aiming, he came up empty. It seemed like there were no zombies around, which was odd and put him on edge.

  “I don’t see anything,” James said softly.

  “Me neither,” Connor responded. “We need to keep our heads on a swivel.”

  “I agree.”

  Emmett walked over. “You two go in. The girls and I’ll wait out here and keep an eye on things.”

  “Roger that,” Connor said.

  “Just what I was thinking,” James said.

  Emmett walked back to his truck, grabbed his suppressed 6.5 Creedmoor custom rifle from the backseat, and climbed onto the topper. Sitting down at the shooting bench, he attached a small night vision device on the end of his scope. Alexis stayed next to Emmett’s truck while Ana went over to James’s truck, both of them wearing NVGs.

  “Good luck,” Alexis said as the brothers moved off.

  “Thanks,” James said and led the way to the school’s side entrance, stopping outside the door. “You ready?”

  “Always.”

  James opened the door and Connor swept into the school. Entering behind his brother, James examined the hallway with a quick glance and then began looking for threats. Since he was right-handed, he focused more heavily on the left side, and he knew Connor would be focusing more on the right since he was left-handed. They took a few steps into the hallway, then stopped side-by-side and examined it more closely. This wing of the building was a long hallway with lockers lining both sides and doors every twenty feet. The hallway was neat, not how it would be if zombies had rampaged through the place. At the end of the hall there was a set of glass double doors, and through those doors the faint light shone.

  “Let’s check ‘em all,” James said. Connor nodded. There was no sense in running through the building and then finding out they had enemies at their backs.

  James went to the door on the left side of the hall and posted up next to it. Connor came up and James opened the door for him as Connor swept into the room. James followed behind. Inside was a classroom with no threats. It was eerie. Nothing was wrong. Even though the apocalypse had only been in full swing for a few days, they were used to seeing places trashed, with items scattered around in a state of disrepair and usually a body or two, or at least a good amount of blood. Yet this classroom looked like the rest of the hallway they’d seen—untouched.

  They left the room and repeated the process on the door across the hall. It was the same. By the look of the classrooms, James concluded this was an elementary school. As they exited the room, he shuddered at the thought of all these kids having to live through this horror. In all their travels so far they’d yet to come across any children as zombies and he was glad for it. He couldn’t imagine having kids of his own right now. How on earth would he protect them? What would it be like for someone to lose their child to something like this? The world really was going to hell.

  Moving down the hall, they continued to check each room. The only thing they found of use was in a small room at the end of the hall on the left—the nurses’ station. Grabbing a backpack from one of the lockers, James emptied the contents onto the floor and went back into the nurses’ station. He gathered up all the medical supplies and the two first aid kits and shoved them into the backpack, which he threw over his shoulder.

  Through the glass double doors was a large, square room that must be the cafeteria, judging by the tables. There was an entrance across the cafeteria that looked identical to the one they were standing in, and to the left was a set of wooden double doors. Underneath those double doors, light pooled out like liquid gold. All of the tables had been moved in front of the doors, making it impossible to get through them without climbing over the barricade. If James had to guess, it looked like a decent attempt to slow or stop zombies from getting in. More than likely, there would be survivors in that room. But how many? And what kind—ones needing help or a bullet to the head?

  Cautiously, they entered the cafeteria, heads on a swivel. Finally, he saw what they’d come to expect. The
re were items scattered around the floor—food wrappers, lunch boxes, backpacks and school books. In the middle of the room, they stopped and looked around again. To their right sat a pair of doors leading outside to a playground and soccer field next to the school. To their left were the doors with light underneath and a small room next to it. That room would be the kitchen.

  It turned out that the kitchen had been ransacked and looted, with not a single edible item left. It even lacked the refrigerators, ovens and microwaves.

  They moved it all, James thought as they backed out of the room. The brothers stood by the tables, the sound of soft voices drifting to them through the wooden doors.

  “Survivors,” James whispered.

  “What’s the play?” Connor asked.

  James was about to respond when he heard a sound behind them. Turning around and crouching down, he aimed his AR at the doors leading outside. Through the small windows, they could see a group of a dozen armed men coming through the outside set of doors. They were a mismatched band of survivors, carrying anything from a sharpened broom handle to an M16 rifle, and all had flashlights. The brothers moved as one, jumping over the counter and into the kitchen. The group’s hushed conversation drifted to them as the second set of doors opened and they entered the cafeteria.

  “Why are we this paranoid?” asked one of the men, hauling a large black garbage bag over his shoulder. “We haven’t even seen anything like what the news talked about.”

  “It could be some sort of elaborate prank,” another man said. He was armed with an old bolt-action rifle.

  “Till the news comes back on and we can find out more, we’ll continue to prepare for the worst,” said the lead man, who was carrying a baseball bat.

  “I ain’t never trusted the government and I ain’t bout to start now,” said the redneck armed with the M16.

  “That’s your own issue, Randy,” said the man with the baseball bat. “They said to stay indoors until help comes, so that’s what we’ll do. Even going over to the high school like we did could be dangerous. We don’t even know what’s going on.”