Dead Texas (Book 4): The Journey West

by Slaton, Derek

  “My thoughts exactly.” He chuckled and took a seat at the window next to her. He lifted his rifle to take a look at the hospital himself. “So, we had any action?”

  “Whole lot of nothing,” she replied. “How’s the timer looking?”

  He checked his watch. “Four, maybe five minutes on the decoy,” he said. “Ten minutes on the party favor.”

  “So, while we have this calm,” she rolled the words around in her mouth as she turned to him. “You mind if I ask you something?”

  He smiled. “Hon, you can ask me whatever you want.”

  “Why did you want to come along on this suicide run with me?” she asked. “I mean, please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m eternally grateful you’re here with me. But just curious why you didn’t hesitate.”

  “Well, when a pretty girl asks you to murder enough people to fill a dump truck, it’s just plain ungentlemanly to decline,” he drawled, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile. He sighed. “I’ll be honest girl, ever since I saw you use a cowbell to gash open Billy Ray Dudek’s forehead to win the championship belt, I knew you were a special woman.”

  She winked. “Special is certainly one word for it.”

  “I’m serious,” he insisted, “you are a special lady. You know, when this world went to shit I was ready to call it a day. Locked away in my shop, feet propped up and enough whiskey to drown a kindergarten class. I was good to go.

  “But when you dropped in and invited me along, it gave me a reason to keep on goin’. When we were driving up to Comfort, I made the decision that no matter what you asked me to do, I was gonna be right by your side for it. The last thirty years or so may have been quiet, but by god I’m gonna go out with a bang.”

  She blinked and turned to gaze at him fully. “Well, for what it’s worth, after the last few days I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told another human being, male or female.” She raised her chin. “I want you to officially be my tag team partner.”

  “God damn girl.” His voice cracked. “You gonna make an old man shed a tear.”

  As if on cue, a large explosion racked the block. It was the first of his rattlers wedged into a gas tank, causing a small sedan to go up in flames.

  “Looks like the gods want us to cut out the sentimental stuff and get back to killing,” Sparks said.

  Rufus’ eyes sparkled. “While we’re killin’, we need to be thinkin’ up tag team names.”

  “I think that can be arranged,” she replied with a grin, and they returned to their scopes.

  Less than a minute went by before a truck pulled up to the hospital and six armed men jumped out to investigate the flaming car.

  “How long until the party starts?” Sparks asked.

  Rufus looked away from his scope to glance at his watch. “Four minutes.”

  “Let’s give it another minute to see if our honey attracts any more flies,” she said, and they watched the men form a defensive position around the truck. One of them walked up to the fiery car and pulled out a walkie talkie.

  “Douchebag by the car looks like he’s in charge,” Rufus said quietly.

  “Keep your sights on him,” Sparks instructed. “If he moves back towards the truck, you drop him.”

  “Ten-four,” he replied.

  Two more trucks pulled up, and five heavily armed men jumped out of each.

  “Well, would you look at that,” Rufus said, excitement in his voice, “this is gonna be a big-ass party.”

  She nodded. “Time check?”

  “Two forty-five,” he replied.

  The leader wandered back to the center of the trucks, pulling some of the men into a huddle.

  “Looks like they’re getting their marching orders,” she murmured.

  Her companion held up his wrist. “Two-thirty on the clock,” he said.

  “Shit, that’s a goddamned eternity.” She sighed. “Okay, as soon as they break the huddle, I want you to take out the leader. Hopefully that will keep them pinned down there until the other guests arrive.”

  “I can just wing ‘em if you want,” he offered. “Tie up a couple of them boys as they drag him to safety.”

  “Good call,” she agreed. “And once the firefight begins, focus on their trucks. We need to make sure they don’t have a getaway vehicle.”

  The huddle let out a whoop, as if to signify the beginning of a hunt.

  Rufus took careful aim at the leader, just off his center mass to it wouldn’t be a kill shot. “Here we go.” He gently pulled the trigger and a deafening crack echoed through the neighborhood. The bullet tore through the leader’s left shoulder, spraying blood and bullet fragments into the men behind him. The shattered debris dropped two more men to the ground, moaning in pain.

  The sudden attack send the remaining men into a panic. A few of them squeezed off a few panic rounds, shooting wild and not knowing where they were aiming for. The rest of the men grabbed their fallen comrades and dragged them behind the trucks.

  “That got them riled up,” Sparks said.

  Rufus checked his watch. “Just gotta keep ‘em agitated for ninety seconds.”

  “Hit the trucks,” she instructed. The took aim at the tires of the trio of vehicles, popping off round after round to flatten the tires. The sustained fire gave away their position, and the small army of men began to pepper the house with bullets.

  Glass shattered and drywall exploded as Sparks and Rufus hit the ground. They crawled away from the windows and into the hallway.

  “Time?” Sparks asked.

  Rufus flung up his wrist in the drywall dust. “Thirty seconds!”

  “Let’s get downstairs,” she replied. “When that door blows, we’re gonna have to move.”

  They jumped to their feet and thundered down the stairs, and Sparks took a few steps towards the back door before she realized Rufus wasn’t behind her.

  “Where the hell are you going?” she cried.

  He held up a hand to wave her after him as he headed for the front door. “Gotta make sure these motherfuckers stay put.” He shot out the bay window in the front and they fired a few rounds into the trucks.

  Before their enemies could return fire, the hospital doors blew open and zombies poured out of the opening like a waterfall. The men immediately turned and opened fire, but were quickly overtaken by the horde. One of them managed to get into a truck and start it up.

  Rufus took aim, but Sparks pushed his arm down. “Don’t worry about him,” she said. “Not worth giving our position away to the zombies.”

  He turned to her. “If he gets away he could warn the others.”

  “Let him.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if they know we’re out here or not. It’s not going to change what we’re going to do to them.”

  He slung his rifle over his shoulder, and they watched as the man drove away on rims, zombies clinging to the side of the truck.

  “You know, now that I think about it,” Rufus said, crossing his arms, “letting that boy go to warn his buddies about us might play to our advantage.”

  Sparks raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

  “Well, how would you react if someone who just shit himself in terror ran up to you yellin about how he just saw a dozen of his friends get shredded by some ghosts?” He grinned.

  She chuckled. “And if those militia boys are there too, sharing what we did to them…”

  “Goddamn girl you are so right,” he replied.

  She nodded. “We are a lethal pair.”

  “It’s a damn shame we’re gonna murder all of ‘em.” He shook his head as they walked towards the back door. “Would be kinda nice to go down as legends in the history books.”

  “Well, we may just have to leave one of them alive, then,” she suggested. “What kind of tag team partner would I be if I didn’t let our legend spread?”

  He clapped her on the back. “That’s my girl.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here before those ghouls finish with their b
uffet,” Sparks said, and pushed open the back door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Hey Mary,” Jeff turned to glance at the copse of trees behind them. “You doin’ okay over there?” He shifted his weight and rested his hand on the large uniform belt buckle.

  “Yeah,” she replied as she peeked out from the bushes. “Just wish this guys would hurry up. The sooner we get up the road, the better I’ll feel.”

  “Don’t worry baby,” Ricky assured her as he adjusted his uniform cap. “We’re gonna get this food and be on our way. We’ll be cozying up together while Rufus burns the hell out of some canned meat before you know it.”

  A horn bleated loudly in the distance.

  “Nice of them to give us a heads up.” Jeff tensed.

  Mary nodded. “Don’t worry boys, I got your back,” she said, and ducked back into the trees.

  “Bubba, this is one terrible idea,” Ricky said, voice lowered so that his wife couldn’t hear him. “You know that, right?”

  His companion scowled. “Well, if you had a better one, you should have spoken up earlier.”

  “I mean I didn’t,” the younger man protested, “but damn, wasn’t aware this being a bad idea was contingent on me coming up with a better option.”

  “You just be ready to draw as soon as they start getting out of the car,” Jeff said as the truck came into view. There was a cruiser escorting it, and Ricky nodded, taking a deep nervous breath.

  The bald man in disguise stepped forward and waved his hands. The single cruiser crept to a stop, the truck halting right behind it.

  “Hey, guys,” Jeff yelled. “We got some trouble in town here. Can… can you step out so I can fill you in?” He didn’t see any movement inside the car, and he turned to glance back at Ricky.

  A shot rang out, shattering the windshield of the enemy car. Ricky tumbled backwards, and Jeff dove behind the closest cruiser.

  “Mary!” her husband screamed, gripping his wounded shoulder as he rolled behind the other car. She emerged from the woods with a scream, emptying the entire clip of her assault rifle into the passenger side window of the enemy cruiser. What was left of the enemy officers slumped forward, car horn blaring.

  She stood motionless, staring at the lives she’d just taken. Tears streamed down her face as she trembled, but the sound of the transport truck shifting into gear knocked her back into reality. She reloaded, dropping the empty mag on the ground and slapping a new one in. She darted to the passenger side of the truck and hopped up to the door, tapping the glass with her gun.

  “Shut it down!” she yelled.

  The middle-aged trucker quickly raised his hands as he hit the brakes.

  “Slowly, and I mean slowly,” Mary said as she aimed the gun at him, “put it into park and shut the engine off.” As the driver complied, he kept one arm raised, and she tilted her head to hell to the guys. “Jeff, cover his exit!”

  The skinhead popped out from behind his cruiser and ran over, gun drawn. “Got you covered!”

  “Slowly get out and walk to my partner,” Mary instructed.

  He nodded and opened the door, dropping down to the asphalt. As soon as he was in Jeff’s custody, she leapt from the truck and skidded around the car barricade to her husband.

  “Baby, you okay?” she demanded, gasping at the sight of him laying on his back in a pool of blood.

  “Goddamn motherfuckers shot me!” Ricky cried, holding his shoulder tightly.

  “Answer me!” she screamed.

  He startled, looking up at her. “Yeah, babe, I’m okay,” he assured her. “It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker, but I’ll live.”

  Mary dropped her gun and burst into tears, burying her face into his good shoulder. He wrapped her up with that arm and kissed her temple.

  “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he whispered in her ear, letting her sob against him.

  “Please, please don’t kill me,” the trucker whined as Jeff walked him over.

  The skinhead looked down at the couple, surveying Ricky’s wound. “What do y’all wanna do about-”

  “Please, I’m not with them, I don’t-”

  Jeff cocked the hammer on his revolver, silencing the trucker. “As I was saying. What do y’all wanna do about him?”

  “We’ve already killed these assholes,” Ricky grunted. “What’s one more?”

  Mary shoved away from her husband, causing him to hiss in pain.

  “No!” She stood and faced the trucker, nose to nose. “Are you with them?” she demanded, and he violently shook his head. “Are you going to follow us?”

  “No,” he croaked, hands high in the air.

  “Jeff, get the keys to that cruiser,” she demanded.

  The skinhead sighed. “But-”

  “Just fucking do it!” she shrieked, and he tossed her the keys. She held them up and pointed the metal at the trucker’s trembling chest. “You listen, and you listen good, mister trucker. There’s been enough killing for today, hell, for a lifetime. I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here.

  “Now, you’re going to help my man here into the truck, and then you are going to wait patiently while we head out. When we get a little ways up the road I’m gonna stop and drop these keys to the ground. After you watch us vanish on the horizon, you can come get them and gain your freedom.

  “Only rule I have?” She held up a finger. “Don’t follow us. Can you handle that?”

  “Yes ma’am!” he stammered. “Yes, ma’am! Thank you so much ma’am!”

  “Alright, alright, that’s enough,” she snapped. “Now go help my man.”

  “You sure about this, Mary?” Jeff asked as the trucker rushed over to lift Ricky.

  “I’m done killing, Jeff,” she said, screwing a fist into her tired eye. “I… I just can’t do this anymore.”

  “It’s okay, we got the food,” he assured her. “You did good. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I know, and I appreciate the sentiment,” she replied. “But I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Let’s just hurry up and get up the road.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Looks like they’re hold up in the two furthest buildings, which means it’s gonna be a bitch and a half to get to ‘em,” Rufus murmured as he peered through the scope of his rifle to survey the airport.

  “Yeah, that kind of eliminates the frontal assault plan,” Sparks said with a sigh and moved back behind the building they were using for cover.

  “Don’t discount that idea too much,” he said and pointed up to a set of speakers on top of the building beside them. “We do have reinforcements we can call. I mean they ain’t exactly on our side, but they sure as hell ain’t on theirs either.”

  “Might be able to split them up a bit too,” she replied thoughtfully. “How do you feel about taunting?”

  He grinned. “Wouldn’t be much of a tag team partner if I didn’t have mic skills, now would I?”

  “I knew I picked you for a reason.” She nodded with a grin of her own. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

  Rufus slowly opened the door to the small building, careful not to make a sound as he drew his knife. The room was dark, with a single light source coming from the far side. He ducked down behind a desk, spotting a lone man sitting at the broadcast console with his feet propped up and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His low baritone formed around an unrecognizable drinking song as his head lolled back and forth.

  Rufus glided across the floor and lashed out in complete silence, grabbing the man’s mouth with one hand and driving his knife into his head with the other. The whiskey dropped and Rufus used his foot to soften it’s landing, holding the man until his twitching ceased.

  The interloper picked up the still half-full bottle and set it on the table beside the console. He crossed to the window and drew the curtain, peeking out to the alley below. He opened the window and then headed back over to the console, picking up the mic.

  He hit the talk button,
sending an echoing shriek through the airport.

  “Good afternoon, murderous douchebags,” he greeted. “This is your ole pal Rufus here to deliver a public service announcement. Your former friends and neighbors that you relocated to the hospital have been set free. No word on whether or not they have paid your families a visit, but it might be a good idea for you to check on ‘em. Oh, and just in case you wanted to reunite with your old friends, I’m gonna let ‘em know where you are at.” He laughed. “Get fucked, motherfuckers.” He dropped the mic and hit the button for the tornado siren.

  Rufus grabbed the bottle and hopped out the window as half a dozen armed men burst through the door, guns raised. He shoved a strip of his shirt into the top of the bottle and lit it, chucking the whiskey back into the comm tower. The glass shattered and splashed napalm back on the men, and he tore down the alleyway, screams echoing after him.

  Sparks watched the front door from across the street, high on the roof of a two-story building. She peered through her scope as two men stumbled outside, dropping to the asphalt in an attempt to put out the flames. She easily popped off two rounds, catching both men before they were finished rolling around.

  A truck revved in the distance, and she scanned the roadways, readying her aim. A dark blue hemi sped around the corner, five men piled in the back. Sparks took aim and shot twice into the windshield, shattering it. The truck swerved and smashed into the flaming building, sending bodies flying everywhere. She popped off loud cracking rounds into any of the men that even so much as twitched.

  Rufus climbed up a ladder and crept across the roof, careful to stay out of sight. He peeked across the way to see his redheaded companion doing the same thing on a flanking building. She held up her fist, and he returned the gesture to show he understood to wait.

  He took stock of the building across from him. There were half a dozen guards out front, guarding two doors. There was movement in the second floor window, but the bars were so close together it would be impossible to get a shot through them. The second building had a lone guard standing by a single door.

  Everyone was straight backed and rubber necked, all on high alert. They tensed even further as the tornado siren abruptly stopped, likely having been taken over by the fire. The silence was almost deafening, until low moans permeated the thick air.