Pedal to the Metal (Riders of the Apocalypse Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  Suddenly, there came voices from Main Street. “What in tarnation? Who the fuck coulda did this?”

  Dallas and Einstein froze, their weapons pointed at the entrance of the street. Einstein looked at her and she shook her head and mouthed, “Not yet.”

  “Spread out! I want them assholes who kilt these zombies! Bring ‘em to me!”

  “That would be us,” Einstein whispered.

  “What now?” Ike asked.

  “We separate one from the herd...see if we can’t find out where they’re keeping your people. We’re not here to take on a town of toothless weirdos. We came for a reason. I have to warn you, though. You need to prepare for the worst.”

  “The worst?”

  “That they’re dead...or worse.”

  “Bring out two of the zombies! I want those cages filled before nightfall!” came the boss’s voice once again.

  “What the––?” Ike said.

  “Shh.”

  Suddenly, one of the yokels came around the corner, gun barrels leading the way. Dallas took him out with the gun butt to his head and dropped him like a stone.

  “We can’t stay here,” Einstein said. “And we can’t afford a shoot out. We’re seriously outmanned here.”

  The sound of pleading and crying pierced the air. When Dallas looked around the corner, she saw the locals shoving two people into one of the cages.

  “Where did they get those things?”

  “They look like modified stripper cages––” Ike answered. “Probably from one-a them bars. They’re locking my people in there, sonsabitches.”

  Once the cages were secure and the two people inside calmed down, the leader collected the men. “All right. They’ll be coming soon. I want them cages secured before nightfall and morea them undead chained back up to them posts.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dallas watched in horror as the two in the cages rattled the doors and begged for their lives. One zombie limped over to the cage where the woman was and started moaning.

  She screamed as it reached into the cage for her.

  “Ada, stop screaming! More will come!” the man yelled.

  Swatting the zombie hands away, Ada switched from screaming to whimpering. Suddenly, out of nowhere came two locals wielding a long stick with a noose on the end used for catching stray dogs. They put it on the zombie’s neck and then led him to the post where they chained him up.

  “One down, nineteen more to go, fellers.”

  Einstein breathed out a breath. “They are using them for security. Like peacocks or motion sensors. They are both security and dinner bell. Shit.”

  Dallas saw Roper on the other side of the street waving them over. She looked concerned. “Fletcher!” she mouthed, gesticulating wildly up the street.

  Einstein looked to where she was pointing. “The zombies are coming from that direction where Fletcher is. We have to get him out of there.”

  As the horde of nearly three dozen ascended onto the main street and toward the caged prisoners, Einstein raised his gun.

  “Don’t.”

  He looked at Dallas. “Don’t? But I thought––”

  Dallas handed Ike her rifle. “New rules. Here. You two shoot as many locals as you have to in order to cover me and Roper when we go to those cages.”

  “But Fletcher…” Einstein started to say.

  “Will know exactly what he needs to do. Trust him. I do. Now, keep your heads down and take out as many as you can. Keep them distracted, kiddo.”

  Ike frowned. “But they’ll just shoot you.”

  Dallas shook her head. “Not when they see what they see. We’re…well…we’re special.”

  Ada screamed again as her cage was surrounded by five zombies, each moaning and reaching for her. “Help! Please! Someone!”

  Dallas knew Ada didn’t stand a chance. One scratch was all it would take and she would become one of them.

  “Please...please don’t let them get her,” Ike pleaded.

  “Cover me,” Dallas said.

  “You’re wasting your time, but sure. If that’s what you want.”

  Dallas sprinted for the cage with Ada in it. She heard the sound of rifle fire as she ran, not knowing who it came from. When she reached the cage, she pushed two of the eaters to the ground and peered inside.

  Ada held her bitten arm with her other hand. “Help...me…my friend….Reiko…she…”

  “She’s been bit! Over here! Help me! Get me out of here!” the caged man pleaded. “You can’t help her now.”

  “Who the fuck is that?” one of the Jethros demanded.

  “Why aren’t them things attackin’ her?”

  “Don’t shoot, boys! Hold yer fire! Somethin’ ain’t right here. How come they are ignorin’ that tall bitch?”

  Dallas’s eyes quickly scanned the area and she took note. Six men in front of her, half a football field away. Three more to one side of the street, same distance. In an instant, those three took head shots from her people, dropping them where they stood.

  Truly dead, never to return to life.

  The rest of the men turned and started firing wildly in all directions.

  “Help...me.”

  Just as Dallas turned, Ada’s head exploded from a shot directly behind her, blowing her brains all over the bars of the cage.

  The hand holding the large .357 magnum was Roper’s. “Sorry, Ada, but your time was up.”

  Dallas started to say something, then let it go.

  The man in the other cage just kept screaming now.

  “Shut him up!” Dallas growled.

  Roper peered in at the man and pointed her revolver at him. “Were you bit?”

  “No! I swear! I––”

  Roper aimed and shot him in the head.

  “What the fuck, Roper?”

  Roper shrugged. “Couldn’t let him go. Wouldn’t take him with us.”

  Dallas started to reply then thought better of it.

  “Fletcher’s on higher ground now, but they’re swarming the lower floor,” Roper continued, holstering her magnum before holding her AK-47 up to the crowd of men with one hand. “Let’s grab him and get the fuck out of here.” Roper took off, shooting every zombie in sight as she ran.

  “What the hell?” murmured the local leader as he stopped shooting and watched the two women run right on by the chained zombie. It didn’t even look up even as Roper blew its head off. “How they doin’ that?”

  Dallas and Roper were almost back to Einstein when a line of men stopped them. Each held a rifle pointed at them. Most of the rifles were older model hunting rifles.

  “Them’s is our zombies, girl,” one of the three men said, his Smith and Wesson trained on Roper. “We don’t cotton to folks just comin’ in here and killin’ our stuff.”

  Roper paused. “Call me girl again, Jethro, and you’ll end up just like these bastards.” She kept her automatic trained on him. “We just want those people you took and we’ll be on our way. Trust me. You so do not want to go up against us. It never ends well for those who do.”

  “You want to put your weapons down, miss?”

  Roper shook her head. “Not really. You see, you got single action rifles, fellas. You’ll all be dead with one pass of my little fren’ here. So why don’t you put yours down? You’re in the scope of several of our people on the roof. So, lower your weapons or die in the street.”

  He thought about this a moment, his eyes never leaving her rifle. “Lower your guns, fellas,” their leader said. He looked like a bearded Jed Clampett or a dude from Duck Dynasty. “Ma’am, who the hell are you?”

  “Who we are is not important,” Dallas said. “You want answers…I’ll make you a deal––”

  “Beaumont. Name’s Beaumont, and this here is our town. We got no quarrel with you.”

  “Actually, Beaumont, you do. You’re taking people against their will. You return the people you snatched and I’ll tell you why these things didn’t attack me or my friend. If you
don’t, then we’ll see who has the better weapons and who is left bloody in the street. It’s your call.” Dallas looked at their bolt action rifles. “And I’m thinking we’re a clear winner where weapons are concerned, so, what’ll it be?”

  Beaumont scratched his scraggly beard. “Can’t. We need ‘em.”

  “You need them. For what? Food? Are you cannibals?”

  “Cannibals?” He made a face. “Hell no. That there is a sick and foul way to live.”

  “Then why do you need them? For bait?”

  “Bait?” He stroked his thick and graying beard. “No, no. Not for food. For parts. We need ‘em for parts.”

  Dallas’s eyes narrowed, her blood chilling. “Excuse me?”

  “My little girl needs a kidney. Seth’s little boy, a liver. They been sick awhile. Got ‘em outta the hospital in Briggs before all hell went belly up, but they still need organs same as they did when things went south.”

  Roper swore under her breath. “Are you kidding me? You stole these people so you could harvest their organs?”

  He sucked in his teeth. “We’re all families from the Yullalla Hospital over near the lake. Our younguns’ were waitin’ for donors when the shit hit. We ain’t losin’ our kids. Without kids, we got nothin’.”

  Dallas looked over at Roper. “Don’t.”

  Roper glared back at her. “Finish your business then, Dallas, and let’s get the hell away from these…animals.”

  Dallas cleared her throat. “Let me get this straight. You collect people for matches and then you harvest their organs, thereby killing them?”

  “Yes ma’am. Got a triage unit and doctors all set up. Kids deserve a chance to live. Most adults are ready to give up anyway. They have turned to thievin’ and rapin’. Why not make use a their parts while we can?”

  “Then you’re murderers.”

  “That’s just not how we see it, ma’am.”

  Dallas swallowed back her ire. “And the cages?”

  “We need to lure the zombies here, so we put the dying in them after we get the organ we need. Earlier, we just had to put in a live woman in order to get back the zombies you done kilt.”

  “Then you use the zombies for––”

  “Alarms. We know there are humans nearby when them things get all twitchy and moany and shit. You kilt our zombies so we used ‘em two as bait. They wasn’t a match anyway.”

  “What do you do with those who don’t match?” Dallas’s eyes rose to the roof, where Fletcher held a steady bead on the leader.

  “We drive ‘em outta town and let ‘em go. They ain’t no use to us. Don’t go judgin’ us, ma’am. Unless you have kids, you don’t know how far you’d go to save them. Now, it’s your turn to answer some questions. How come them zombies let you walk right up on ‘em?”

  Dallas shook her head. “That wasn’t the deal. You bring them out alive and let them go with us and then I’ll answer all of your questions.”

  Beaumont grinned, showing tobacco-stained teeth. “I reckon you realize you’re surrounded.”

  “Oh really? And you’re not?” Dallas raised her hand over her head and snapped her fingers.

  A bolt pierced through the boot of one of the Jethros, who let out a piercing scream. All of the other Bubbas turned around, rifles raised in several different directions.

  “Look around you, Beaumont. Twenty dead zombies, all with arrows in their heads. If you think one man could do all that, you’re a fool. Now…are you a fool, Beau?”

  Roper stepped forward. “Lay all your weapons in a pile, then step away. I won’t tell you a second time, fellas. You can’t beat us, and we have no problem putting you down like the mangy curs you are.”

  There was slight hesitation until another bolt landed in front of the leader.

  “We won’t tell you again. Put them down or the next arrow will enter the back of your heads.”

  Each man looked around and then did so.

  “Okay. You have two minutes to turn those survivors loose or one man will die every ten seconds you’re late.”

  Beaumont stared at her before looking around at the dead zombies with arrows sticking out of their heads. “You better have a way outta here, girl, because once you turn tail and run, we gone be all over you like flies on shit.”

  Roper walked up to him and punched him in the face. “Who you calling shit, asshole?”

  Beau’s head rocked back, but he did not lose his footing. Wiping his bloody lip with the back of his hand, he yelled, “Earl? Bring ‘em out!”

  The door to the bar opened and five people were escorted to where Dallas stood. She leaned over and whispered to the woman closest to her where to go. Then she turned back to face the leader.

  “Good. We’re going to watch these people disappear around that corner, Beau. If any of you makes a move, all of you will die. We out-weapon you guys and you know it. Don’t make us kill you.”

  Beaumont hesitated.

  An arrow landed inches from his foot, making him jump back. “Jesus! Cut ‘em loose, Earl. We don’t need this shit. There are many more where these came from.”

  Earl whipped out a Buck knife and cut them loose.

  “Go on,” Dallas said to the woman, who bolted toward Einstein and Ike. “Get them to safety!” she yelled, knowing Einstein would take them back to the Fuchs and out of harm’s way.

  “All right. We did what you asked. Now it’s yer turn. How come they don’t even see you?”

  “Well, Beaumont, those things don’t attack us because we’re gay. They are genetically predisposed to kill and eat straight people. We are not that.”

  There was a pause, followed by the men all laughing uproariously.

  “Now, that’s some funny shit!”

  “You could tell they was dykes!”

  “I knew she wouldn’t tell us any––”

  Suddenly, rapid fire came from Roper’s weapon. In the amount of time it took Dallas to turn her head, every one of the Jethros was dead.

  Every single one.

  Dallas was speechless.

  “Nasty ass motherfuckers,” Roper spat.

  “What the hell? Baby…you…you killed them.”

  “Sons of bitches call us dykes? Oh hell no. I swore to myself the last time some Neanderthal called us names they would die with those names still on their lips. Grab those guns and let’s get the hell out of this bumfuck town.”

  Dallas grabbed the rifles and slung them over her shoulders before taking off toward Fletcher.

  Roper shot and killed every zombie before joining her.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Dallas asked. “We don’t go around killing people just because they call us names. “

  Roper sped past her. “Yes we do. I do. You might put up with their pre-apocalypse bullshit, but I won’t have it. Crazy-ass motherfuckers. The days of men like that calling me names and living to laugh about it are over, lover. O-V-E-R.”

  “Hey!” Fletcher yelled from the overhanging roof of a porch. Six zombies had detached from the horde and were reaching into the air toward him with fingers raw and torn from clawing at whatever had held their interest before. “I’m out of arrows!”

  Dallas and Roper quickly put down those six moaning and clawing zombies.

  “They’re gonna be coming,” Fletcher said. “I killed as many as I could but I’m out. I gotta collect those arrows and then we gotta scram. The horde comin’ is at least a hundred.”

  “We need to get back to our ride and get the hell out of here,” Roper said, taking off.

  As the rest of them headed for the Fuchs, Einstein, Ike, and the women ducked behind a dumpster as four military Jeeps came to a halt.

  “Don’t move,” Einstein whispered, peering around the corner just as a leather clad leg stepped out from one of the vehicles. “What the––”

  The rest of the body emerged, and the person wore red and white leather and a helmet that looked like something that belonged in outer space.

  That was when
he saw it.

  A patch.

  A red and white patch on the arm of the person in what could only be described as a hazmat suit.

  The person in the uniform looked around slowly, as if searching for something or someone specific.

  Einstein pulled his head back and pressed himself up against the wall. “Don’t move a muscle,” he whispered to Ike and the woman. “I think…I think we’re in real trouble here.”

  Luke shielded his eyes from the sun. “We got about four more hours of daylight left, babe. I say we pull over someplace and see if Omar and Hunter can find us some supper.”

  Omar sat up, shoulders back. “I’d give anything to get out of this tin can and shoot. I’m seriously getting cabin fever. Get up,” he said, kicking Hunter’s shoe. “We need to hunt.”

  “What about you guys?”

  “There’s a small shack about three hundred yards behind those rocks and trees. We’ll clear it out for the night while you two yahoos bag us something to eat,” Hunter said.

  Omar nodded and jumped out. “Don’t get ahead of yourselves and clear it without us.”

  Luke’s mouth dropped open. “Aw man, you’re hurting my feelings. You know I can kick your ass with one hand holding an infant.”

  “Yeah, yeah, well, let us out.”

  When Hunter was out, Omar closed the door.

  The heat was almost stifling, even at this late time of day, making it hard to breathe. The desert had an eerie stillness to it when the temperature was over 100 degrees, and at the moment, there was not one sound.

  “Where do you think we are?” Hunter asked, checking his weapons as they walked.

  “New Mexico? Close to the border, maybe?” Omar counted his bolts. “I’d hoped we’d make better time.”

  Hunter raised his crossbow and peered through the scope. “You sound worried.”

  “Dallas won’t wait forever and even if she does, that’ll just put them all in danger. We’re just not making decent time and that puts everyone in jeopardy.”

  “Roger that.” Hunter glanced at Omar. “Let’s just bag a meal and light for the night. I’m beat.”