Trying not to wake Becky, Rune said, “Her group did this?”
Yes. They stole the trucks with all the supplies.
The anger and sorrow in the woman’s voice washed over him and he became vividly aware of the fluctuating shadows and lights crowding around him. The ghosts of the camp had found him. Fear, confusion, and fury swirled around him in a ghostly storm. Freezing apparitional fingers clutched at Rune and Becky. Moaning, Becky stirred, her eyes blinking in confusion.
“Where the fuck are we?” Catching sight of the camp in the distance, she gasped. “Why are we here?”
“A friend told me about this place. I wanted to check it out.” The gruffness in his voice drew her attention. He was seething and it was difficult to hide it.
Becky glowered defiantly, then slowly her look faded into one of fear. “It wasn’t my idea. Okay? I was made to do it.”
“Don’t matter. They’re dead. We’re not.” Rune irritably brushed his hand past his face, not swatting at gnats, but the ghosts swarming him. Gunning Charlene, he rode toward the camp.
“What are you doing?” Becky screamed in terror.
“Keep your hands on the handlebars, or I’ll toss you,” Rune said in her ear.
She clutched the center of the bars, bony fingers trembling.
Rune skirted close enough to the broken gate to get the attention of the dead. The dirt swirled through the air, forming small twisters that danced along the perimeter. The zombies stirred as one entity, then their moans rose in an eerie chorus. Out of the depths of the crowd, he saw heads bobbing as several of the running zombies fought their way toward the bike and its passengers. Rune whipped the Harley around and drove on at a pace that would keep him in sight of the zombies, but out of their reach.
“What are you doing?” Becky shrieked.
“You murdered those people back there. You and your folks. I aim to set the record straight,” Rune answered tersely.
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” She tried to twist about on the bike, grabbing for the Glocks. The bike shimmied as her weight shifted, but Rune quickly leaned in the opposite direction to keep them upright. Fingers grasping at his weapons, Becky lost her balance, and pitched off the bike. Rune caught her wrist, his fingers a vice around her clammy flesh. Only her knees were draped over the bike now, her upper body suspended over the road. Kicking at his face with one foot, Becky screamed in rage.
“Fuck you! Fuck you!”
Her boot clipped his chin.
Rune tasted blood.
Ahead, a fully-formed young woman stood in the sunlight watching their struggle. Her hands were cupped under her swollen belly and her dress and hair whipped about her in the arid breeze.
“She’s yours,” Rune said to the ghost.
As he passed by her, Rune dropped Becky at her feet.
Becky let out a howl of terror that sent an icy finger trailing down Rune’s spine. Glancing in his mirrors, Rune witnessed something he had not expected. Maybe it was the drugs in her system, or the lack thereof, but Becky was staring straight at the ghost and screaming. Rune watched as the ghost squatted and pinned Becky to the ground, pressing her knees into the woman’s chest. The ghost held her murderer there until the first of the runners reached Becky and the feeding frenzy began.
Gritting his teeth, Rune played the Pied Piper to the zombie horde behind him.
Chapter 15
Rune veered off onto the same dirt road he had traveled earlier and took refuge among the trees on the slight incline overlooking the salvage yard. Smoke was funneling out of the RV and there was no sign of anyone even on guard. Country music poured out of the main building, and he caught a glimpse of movement through the windows.
It would take another good ten minutes before the zombies arrived, but Rune was certain they would descend on the yard. Maybe it was fanciful to think so, but he had a hunch that the ghosts might just be helping him herd their ravenous undead bodies toward their killers.
Rune was certain that the RV was a meth lab. He’d been around one or two in his day and it had all the hallmarks. What he had missed during his first examination of the encampment was another RV, this one burned out, sitting toward the back of the yard. It was all the confirmation he needed.
Being a religious man, Rune didn’t like the feeling of taking another person’s life, but he also believed in justice and righteousness. Any qualms were stuffed down deep inside of his soul where he would address them at another time. The memory of the carnage in the station wagon haunted him.
Draping the bike in an army blanket, Rune walked it through the brush and under the swaying branches of the mesquite and juniper trees. Sweat ran down his face and pooled under his arms and in the middle of his back. Limbs aching, he pushed the bike up under some trees near the edge of the property. He was taking a risk being so close to the facility, but he wanted to make sure he correctly executed his plan.
Throughout his time on the road with Becky he had pondered many options. At one point he thought of trying to bluff his way into the gang, but realized that without Alan among them to vouch for him this was foolhardy. If Becky’s condition was any indicator, the group was strung out on meth and very dangerous. He did not want to put himself behind their gates, cut off from escape. His actual plan hadn’t formed until the ghost had spoken about the overrun safe haven. If the Boyds had dragged zombies down on innocents to steal their supplies, then he could do the same to gain justice for those poor restless souls.
A door to one of the campers flopped open and a rotund man with a grimy shirt and ripped jeans emerged. His dark curls were matted and half-formed dreads. Swigging from a liquor bottle, he strode across the hard-baked earth to the RV. Banging on the door, his voice carried on the wind.
“Y’all done yet? I’m about to lose my shit.”
Rune kept low out of sight in the tall grasses and scrubby brush, his Glock heavy in his hand.
The RV was parked close to the makeshift wall. An explosion would take down a portion of it and the noise was certain to draw zombies to the area.
Another man emerged from the office rubbing his bald head and coughing loudly. “Gus, any sign of Becky and Joe?”
“They’re probably off fucking like rabbits. You know what a horndog Joe is. Fucking dick. I keep telling him to bring us back some pussy. The last one died too fast thanks to you,” Gus answered. “You’re a sick fuck, Hank.”
“I like it rough.” The other man grinned.
“Is that what you call it? Mutha fucka, ruined it for the rest of it.”
Rune surveyed the perimeter again. No other people were visible. From his vantage point he could clearly see all the buildings and the RV. He could hit both men, but it would draw the others out into the open. Did he truly want to get into a gun fight?
“Hell,” Rune grumbled.
“The other men are asleep inside,” a girl’s voice whispered.
Turning, Rune saw a young girl around thirteen crouched in the grass next to him. She reminded him of Lainey when she was younger, with long, straight blonde hair and big blue eyes, one of them swollen and bloody. Wearing a ratty, cheap negligee, she was covered in bruises and her neck was ringed with dark indentations. Blood stained her legs and ran from the corner of her pale lips. Rune fought the urge to try to hug the ghostly girl.
Tears stung his eyes. “What’s your name, honey?” Rune choked out past the lump in his throat.
“Cindy,” the ghost answered in a soft voice.
“Okay, Cindy, I’m going to take care of those men, then you can move on. I just need to know where the chemicals in the RV are.”
Pointing to the windows of the meth lab, she said, “That’s where they stand when they cook. That’s where they mix the chemicals.”
“Good girl,” Rune forced a smile.
Cindy sighed, her arms crossed over her chest. “They’re bad.”
“I know.”
Moving forward, Rune pressed against a tre
e and tried to visually gauge if he was close enough to get a good shot. The RV was at least seventy-five feet away and the two men probably closer to one hundred. His position was elevated enough that he should be able to hit all three targets. Taking a deep breath, he raised the Glock and aimed.
“Kill them,” Cindy whispered, her freezing cold hand touching his arm. Her eyes stared up at him, empty of life and full of sadness.
Returning his attention to the two men, Rune took aim at the baldheaded man who had finished Cindy’s life. He just needed to take three shots to bring this hell hole to an end.
Exhaling, he fired.
The first bullet punched through Hank’s head and sent him sprawling, the second caught Gus in the shoulder, the third perforated his chest just above his heart, and the fourth struck the windows of the RV. Gus fell slowly to his knees, then toppled over. The RV remained standing. Despite the blaring country music, the loud crack of the gunshots brought the other men rushing out of their hovels. Rune pulled his second Glock, aimed both weapons, and opened fire on the RV. Bullets riddled the side, punching deep holes into the metal.
The half-dressed, incoherent men scattered across the scrap yard, trying to take cover. Confused, they fired wildly, not knowing exactly where their attacker was located. Sweat running along his furrowed brow, Rune swore angrily. Why wasn’t the damn RV exploding?
“You got it,” Cindy said, grinning at him.
Flames burst out of the vehicle, shattering the windows, sending glass shards like shrapnel across the yard. Another fireball burst from the roof, filling the air with acrid smoke. The RV rocked again under another powerful explosion. The vehicle’s swiftly melting rubber tires gave way with a loud pop and it listed to one side. Two more loud explosions sent it toppling into the fence, dragging the structure to the ground. The entire fence line rippled under the stress, parts of it ripping free from the posts.
Rune ducked down, dragging his bandana over his face to filter the air. The wind was carrying it into the camp and away from him, but still he coughed and his eyes watered. His lungs and throat burning, Rune took hold of Charlene’s handlebars and pushed her through the bushes toward the road. Behind him the men wailed and shouted as the flames continued to spread.
At a safe distance, Rune sat in the tall grass and watched the men trying to put out the fires. Drugged out of their minds, the bandits who had brought such cruelty down on the innocents of the world floundered as their world was consumed. One even caught on fire when he ventured too close to the flames. It wasn’t until the fire was nearly burned out and merely embers that the zombies from the encampment appeared on the horizon. By then it was too late for the men inside the salvage yard. Their vehicles destroyed, the men panicked as the first of the running zombies hurtled over the downed fences. Firing wildly, they wasted huge amounts of ammunition. In the end, it was the slower ones that tore the men limb from limb.
Meanwhile, Rune watched with the ghostly girl at his side.
“All done now,” she said.
“All done now,” he agreed.
Looking around, he saw that Cindy was gone.
Relief flooded him.
Another soul set to rest.
Climbing onto his bike, Rune rode the dirt road to the old highway. He was just turning onto it when he saw an older model navy truck approaching. Squinting, he raised his empty hands, trying to show he was friendly. Cindy had moved on, so he was certain that the truck didn’t belong to the bandits. The pickup slid to a stop next to him and the window slowly rolled down. Tito stared out at him, dark eyebrows raised.
“Well, ain’t it the devil?” Rune said with a grin.
“Long time no see, Rune. How’s it hanging?” Tito pushed his sunglasses up on his head and reached out to shake Rune’s hand.
Rune clasped the man’s hand tightly, his emotions nearly getting the best of him.
Sitting next to Tito was a very pretty young woman with thick dark hair. In the seat behind them, two young boys with dark eyes peered at him with curiosity.
“You got them,” Rune said with awe in his voice.
“It wasn’t easy. San Antonio was...bad. Lots of people died trying to get out. It’s a miracle we all made it.” Tito’s voice roughened, but he swallowed to keep his composure. “Esmeralda, this is Rune, that dude I told you about.”
“Hi, Rune.” Esmeralda stretched out her hand and Rune shook it.
“Hi, Esmeralda.”
“My boys, Carlitos and Eddie.”
“What’s happening over there?” one of the little boys asked, pointing to the plumes of black smoke.
“A fire and zombies. I suggest you take an alternate route. It’s bad that way,” Rune said, understanding blooming in his eyes. He had been brought here to ensure not only justice, but safe passage.
Tito lifted his chin slightly, his eyes studying Rune. “Convenient you’re here to tell us that.”
“Yeah, ain’t it?”
Chuckling, Tito slapped Rune on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Rune.”
“You still going to Marfa?”
“Gotta see if it still stands. You coming?”
“Nah. I gotta head to Waco.”
“Waco? Why?”
“Seems to be the direction the wind is blowing,” Rune said, shrugging. “Did you find your friends?”
Sorrow seeped into Tito’s face as he shook his head. “No. No. I just hope they found a safe place.”
Esmeralda reached out to squeeze her husband’s hand. “You did your best.”
“Which is all we can do in this world,” Rune decided.
“Carlitos, give me the big bag,” Tito said, turning to look at his older son.
The boy dropped out of sight then popped back up with a heavy bag that looked like something a military man might have once carried.
“Careful, son,” Tito urged as the boy handed it over. “We found these on the way out of San Antonio. I picked them up because I had this thought you might need them. Which seemed crazy as shit, but here you are. So...”
Rune took the bag and flipped open the flap. Inside were grenades. “You gotta be fuckin’ with me.”
“Pretty awesome, huh?”
“You sure you want to part with these?”
“They’re for you. I’m sure of it. Probably one of your friends was whispering in my ear.” Tito winked.
“Maybe.” Rune slung the bag over his shoulder. It felt good. It felt right.
“Take care, Rune. See you...sometime.”
Rune nodded and smiled at Esmeralda as Tito rolled up the window. They gave each other a brief wave before Tito swung the truck around and headed away from the flames and zombies to find another route.
Rune pulled his goggles on and glanced over his shoulder. Down the road the zombies were shuffling onto the asphalt. It was time to go.
With the wind singing in his ears, Rune revved Charlene and the Harley roared as it headed toward Hill Country.
Senator Brightman’s Story
Senator Paige Brightman has always been a bit of a controversial character. Though her party affiliation is purposefully never made clear, she embodies the worst of both sides of the political coin. She is the amalgamation of many of the government people I worked with at the state level and their attitudes. I infused her with the same narrow-minded viewpoint about the people she’s supposed to be serving that I saw over and over again in government officials no matter what their political party status.
The one problem with the senator that quickly arose in the online version was that my idea of what she represented and who she is ran counter to the expectations of the fandom. Upon reflection, I realize her entrance in the story coincided with the arrival of The Governor in The Walking Dead. People automatically assumed she was going to be his female counterpart. That was never my intention. Though she’s supposed to be annoyingly arrogant, she was never supposed to be a foaming at the mouth lunatic.
When I began my revision of SIEGE for Tor
, one of the decisions I made was to clarify her role and also significantly reduce it. My editor had made a notation that she wasn’t a very scary villain, which just solidified my decision. Senator Paige Brightman was never supposed to be a villain, but an obstacle in the lives of the survivors. With this in mind, I radically altered a lot of her interactions in SIEGE to drive home the point of her role. I also chose to delete some of her other scenes because I felt once she left the story at the mall, the reader no longer needed to see what was going on in her life. I left her death scene in SIEGE simply because I knew the readers wanted it. Fans can be a bloodthirsty lot!
Those deleted scenes have been sitting on my hard drive demanding my attention, therefore, I’ve decided to rework them into an untold tale. This story has a nice little reveal about the epic zombie horde in SIEGE and how it started forming.
Enjoy!
The Wickedest Woman in Texas
Chapter 1
I-35
“That’s a helluva lot of zombies,” Raleigh Dukelow said in an oddly terrified yet awed voice.
Beside him, Senator Paige Brightman frowned as she set her hands on her hips. “Idiots. They should have known evacuation routes would make them meals on wheels.”
The former campaign manager shuffled his feet and scratched at his scruffy chin nervously. “What else were they supposed to do? The authorities told them to evacuate.”
The senator snorted with contempt. “You mean Gordon told them to evacuate.”
Raleigh was unnerved by her cold dismissal of General Gordon Knox, her fiancé. He’d been in charge of the FEMA camps and evacuation plans implemented in the state. Gordon wasn’t with them, which meant she had left him behind at the mall they had abandoned. Raleigh doubted it had been Gordon’s choice. He loved the senator too much to not be at her side.
Several of the soldiers who had left the mall with the senator now stood clustered together, examining the massive obstacle blocking their journey. Raleigh wondered for the hundredth time that day why he hadn’t slipped down to the main floor of the mall to join the representatives of the fort who were evacuating the Madison Mall Rescue Center. If only he’d had the guts to follow his instincts. The people from the fort in Ashley Oaks had extended an open invitation to all the survivors that had been living in the dire conditions of the Madison Mall to join them at their walled fortress. Raleigh had even seen the aerial photos that revealed what looked like a slice of heaven. Instead, he had chickened out and spent the night sleeplessly tossing and turning while the Senator stalked around his living quarters making her escape plans. Once the fort leaders had rejected her ploy to take over the walled in downtown of Ashley Oaks that was dubbed ‘the fort,’ the senator had decided to abandon the mall and the survivors.
As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 Page 9