Rage: Z Is For Zombie Book 5

by catt dahman

  He kept crying out, attracting more zombies to come around the corner and take a look. Matt stared for a second, watching Pete in confusion. Pete raised one leg out of the drain at a ninety-degree angle to his body as he screamed in pain, and Matt saw that Pete’s leg from hip to foot was ripped to bits. Something in the drain was eating him alive.

  Pete’s leg vanished inside, and he was yanked downward so hard that his head popped on the concrete. The upper part of the concrete raked up his shirt. Jet and Alex tried to pull him back out, but the next time, fat and flesh were raked off of Pete’s stomach, causing more of him to be able to fit into the drain. The next pull took the skin from his shoulders, and he landed, down with the hiding ghouls.

  “Like that damned clown in the Stephen King book that hid in the drains,” Alex said, shivering as Pete‘s screams still echoed.

  “Fucking Pennywise,” Juan said. “It wasn’t him; it was them bastards.”

  “Go; go.”

  Carl rounded the final corner and could see his big monster truck. Zombies shambled around all of their vehicles, and they couldn’t shoot for fear of blowing out a window, which they needed for protection.

  Jet ran to the side and yelled at the ghouls, trying to get them to come his way and leave the trucks alone. “Come on; come on, deaders.”

  Alex smashed at the ones he could reach. He and Carl climbed inside, and Carl began to drive backwards over a few that shambled too close while Leena ran to the other side to avoid the creatures. She watched for a chance to get into the truck when Carl stopped.

  A growl was behind her. The pit bull advanced very close, the Doberman was no more than a meter from where she stood, and the German shepherd was slinking close.

  Jet saw the dogs advancing and turned to shoot them, but Steve took that very second to try to get Leena, instead of letting the better-trained people handle the situation. In his monster truck, Carl never saw Steve and backed into him at forty miles an hour, knocking him down and rolling over him. When he saw the body, Carl groaned with frustration.

  Jet caught the shepherd in the side as the dog leaped for Leena, and then he took a second and third shot to finish it off.

  Zombies began to pack the area faster than the group could shoot.

  Pak dove into the truck; he turned to lean down and help others climb in. The Doberman lunged at Leena, but no one could get a clear shot. Teeg hit the dog hard, but the pit attacked as well, going for her legs, and Teeg couldn’t fight them all. He struggled to hit the dogs, hoping someone would be there to help before he tired out.

  Matt tried to help Steve who was unable to stand and was broken up by the impact of the truck, bleeding, and only partially conscious; zeds leaned in so that Matt had to move away to shoot at them. He shot the Doberman, giving Teeg a break.

  The pit wasn’t as sure of himself and hauled ass down the road. Leena was bitten on her arms, hands, and legs and cried for help as she rolled on the ground, helplessly.

  Teeg boosted her, and Pak dragged her into the truck. Everyone was in the truck, but Matt, Juan, and Jet who were still shooting, in an attempt to get them away from Steve.

  Jet was trying to fire his gun while also trying to get Steve up; he had four on the ground that he was stomping even as they took quick bites at Steve.

  Juan pushed Matt into one of the SUVs while he shot and killed the crawlers for Jet. He saw enough to know Steve was too injured and infected; he wasn’t going with them. Jet refused to give up, still fighting a lost cause. When Jet ignored Juan’s orders to give up, he hefted up the young man and threw him in a fireman’s carry as he did Kim.

  “Put me freakin’ down, Juan.”

  “You know better than to risk yourself like that. I swore to your mama you’d come back just fine,” Juan stopped and kicked away two more that lunged at him. “Get in,” Juan slammed the door and then got into the passenger seat.

  “I got the compound on the radio.” Matt grinned as they drove to a safer spot to get their bearings. “Base Actual, This is Charlie team. Over.”

  Juan smiled as Matt referred to his team.

  “Charlie, we ask that you return to base at once. We have incoming, estimated at tens of thousands, ETA an hour or so. Thurman has some medical issues. What is your sitrep? Over.”

  Matt tightened his jaw. “We have casualties, read incoming at tens of thousands. What can we do to help? Over.”

  “Charlie, Alpha Actual asks you to come back to base at once so we can evaluate casualties. We will need your firepower. They look to be massing from your area, a small group of a thousand plus and then the rest right behind them. Get out of there. Over,” Benny said.

  “Copy that, Base. Returning ASAP. Charlie out.”

  The small section they were on was bare of zombies; Matt and the rest got out to exchange information and try to stop some of the bleeding for Leena, but she slipped into shock. Carl and Pak had her arms and legs bandaged and taped securely, unsure of how well they cleaned the wounds but doing what they could for her. None of them thought she stood much of a chance if the bleeding didn’t stop soon.

  “Her arms were torn up, looks like to the bone, and her legs were bad. She had a head wound…bleeding a lot…the only difference between the Zs getting her and the dogs getting her was that the dogs weren’t infected. Just hungry,” Pak said softly.

  “Bad luck,” Matt said.

  “No way they can hold against that many; the fence will go.”

  “They’ll try,” Matt told Juan.

  “It’s impossible, and I know it,” Jet said sadly.

  “I have an idea, Carl. Could your big ole truck pull seven or eight small vehicles behind it with chains?” Juan asked.

  “I think it could drag ten,” Carl said proudly.

  “We have that dynamite and timers in the other car. Put whatever amount you guys think best, and set the times about a minute apart. Drive up the road into the middle of the Zs, and wait; then each piece of dynamite goes off and blasts maybe a hundred apart,” Juan said.

  “Hang on; we will fill the cars with old discarded metal and bricks, and we will get more shrapnel,” Jet said, “Let’s do it.” He pointed to a shop that sold chains and tire rims and miscellaneous items. His face was finally regaining some color, and he wasn’t angry toward Juan anymore.

  “We have to move fast. Watch for shamblers; fill the cars, Carl, you know TNT right?” Matt asked. “I mean as much as anyone can know it?”

  “I know it fairly well. Juan can help me, and we’ll have this done in twenty or thirty minutes.”

  They scattered, luckily in the clear for now as they moved quietly, bringing chains back and hooking them to cars already lined up. The others threw blocks, bricks, metal, and anything else into the cars that they saw lying around, skipping the truck that was full of zombies.

  Carl said he would rig it at the back end. Carl was glad it was all so easy with the timers already there and ready to go; if they had had these in their packs, they might have gotten all the survivors as well as John out alive, but it was unstable stuff.

  “We have C 4.” Jet brought it to Carl who showed Jet how to carefully set it up and get the timers ready. Jet wished he had time to learn more about this from Carl. Once, the Internet offered a wealth of learning opportunities, but now, Jet saw that there was so much more to learn from other people, but there was never a good time to study.

  Jet was like a sponge, taking in every bit of what he was taught and remembering it. Jet was once considered a poor student; his teachers would be amazed that all it had taken for him to learn was patience and hands-on experience. Once the boy had an idea of a concept, he was fine and could relate it and form abstract connections.

  “Sixty seconds?” Carl asked Juan “And ten of them? I think we have five packed and ready. Let’s do random timers on the seconds so if more come by after one blow, we can get as many or more. I am putting together a bigger pay- load, anyway. Easily get a few thousand.” It was amazing to think
they could take out so many at once.

  “Minute apart, then let’s take out two thousand if we can.”

  “Gotcha. Or three, a bunch anyway.” Carl worked on the plan. Juan went to see how Matt was doing with placing the explosives. He would miss his big truck, but it was going to do what it was supposed to do: pull a heavy load for a good cause. He wasn’t sure exactly how Juan’s plan was to be pulled off, but he liked it so far.

  “You in a gang, Juan?”

  “Hmmm?” he asked.

  “Your bandana tied around your calf like that: gang sign, isn’t it?” Jet asked, amused.

  “Nah.”

  Matt glanced at Juan and grinned at Jet’s remark and then hesitated. Juan’s boot and lower leg of his pants shown with fresh blood “Throw any extra in the cars; we want it to be a big boom. You remember how Hagan and Bryan threw that grenade and set off all of those gas cans?”

  “I’ve added some gas cans in the cars, too.” Teeg grinned as he walked by.

  “Wanna see the fireworks?”

  Juan gave him a nod. He wiped his face as he poured sweat.

  “You okay?” Matt asked.

  “So you know, I’m gonna make Carl let me drive his big truck; sorry, it’s not gonna make it, guess it’s going to truck heaven,” Juan said.

  “Are you saying to drive it right into the middle of the zeds or in front of them? You don’t wanna get into the middle and then be trapped in the truck with those timers running,” Jet grinned.

  “About a hundred yards in,” Juan said.

  “How you gonna get out?” Jet asked. That made no sense at all. It would be deadly to try for that.

  “Let me look at that leg; you hurt yourself?” Matt asked. He felt his stomach drop with worry.

  “No, no need, I have it under control,” Juan said. Matt looked again, and the bandana was tied more as a tourniquet than anything else. Juan gave Matt a little nod and a half-smile. Matt took a deep breath and sighed.

  Juan, ever calm, unclasped his white gold crucifix and put it on Jet’s neck. “Can you make sure your mama gets that from me?”

  “Sure. Why can’t you give it to her; you’re scared you might not get out? We can get you out, Juan,” Jet promised. “Everyone is gonna be okay now that we have a plan.”

  “When was it?” Matt asked.

  Juan knew what Matt was asking even if Jet didn’t. “When I was getting Jet up the tree after he fell. It’s the greatest honor of my life that I make sure Beth’s son is safe.”

  Jet looked from one to the next. Teeg stopped to listen and looked sad. “What is going on, Juan?” Jet demanded.

  “I was bitten on the calf. The bandana isn’t my gang sign, Jet.”

  Jet’s face contorted into pure rage and then fell into sadness, as he understood.

  He hit Juan’s shoulder with every bit of strength he had. “You mother fucker, you are not bitten.” Juan took the punches until he could pull the seventeen-year-old against his chest in a big bear hug.

  Alex already had tears streaming.

  “It’s okay. What’s all this sadness? I’m going to take those cars into those bastards and blow up their ass. I’m going out a hero, and I won’t turn; I’ll just pass on. I’m taking out an ass load of them with me; it’s all good.”

  “It isn’t good,” Jet openly cried, “I love you, Juan.”

  “I love you, Jet. I love you all. It’s just my time. Look at what good terms I get to go out on? This is fantastic.”

  Jet muttered.

  “Now, Jet, you take care of your mama since she’s likely to take this hard. Be her rock, and tell her I did it because of my love for her and all you kids and to help in this battle. Alex, you stay with Beth and keep her going. I need you. Tell Beth I love her with all of my heart and soul, and give Katie and Hannah and the babies a kiss for me.”

  “It isn’t fair,” Jet said.

  “No, it sucks, but you go be the man I know you are, Jet,” Juan asked. “We all have our times, we know that. And you tell George I got my own terms. How fortunate is that? And you tell Kim to be a good father. I know he’ll be the best ever.”

  Matt shook his hand soberly.

  Alex, crying, hugged his friend, as did Teeg. Both had to walk away. Pak shook his hand, eyes full of tears.

  Then Carl came over and took a deep breath. In one more second, they would abandon the plan and take Juan, despite his being infected, back to the compound and beg Doc for a miracle cure. Only there wasn’t one, and Juan would turn, and one of his friends would shoot him. They were a split second from making that choice. Someone had to stop that from happening. “Guess my truck is done for; you send ‘em to hell, Juan, ya hear?”

  Juan felt a slight wave of nausea; his calf was numb and no longer throbbing with pain. He knew he’d better hurry. He pulled something else from his pocket and handed it to Carl. “Would you get this to Kimball?”

  Carl nodded. It was a thick gold band laced with deep green, flawless emeralds. “He’ll understand it.” He appreciated that Carl helped the situation.

  “I hate to rush you, but, Juan, the timers are set and going,” Carl said. This was hard for Carl to say.

  “Then, you get moving,” Juan said as he climbed into the monster truck. He pointed upward and said, “Father, give me courage. Take care of Beth, my Love.” He slammed the door.

  Jet let Carl lead him away, too shocked to say anything else.

  From the SUV, the other six watched as the big truck began to roll. The chain tightened, and then the car, in drive, started to roll, too, its insides full of rubble and gas cans. The incline helped, and the third rolled as well. Then, the fourth moved after Juan struggled a little. Finally, the fifth moved, and all were in a line behind the big truck, moving down the road as a lethal caravan. Matt drove on a side road so they could see Juan driving; he seemed to be singing.

  Carl knew the tape that was playing and could read Juan’s lips. “Thunder rolls, and the lightning flashes….”

  Outside the gate, the last of the work was finished, and everyone was headed inside to safety, but Matt parked and called to Conner, saying they would be along in a bit. Matt wanted to see this through to the end; they owed Juan that much.

  Down the road, they could see the zombies headed their way, almost to the point that they would begin bottle necking as the survivors had planned. Juan passed that by, skirted to the side, and drove right into the incoming horde.

  None could reach up to the windows where Juan sat, but they still stopped to claw at the truck. Most kept walking past, and Juan drove slowly, crushing only a few since he wanted to get into the thick of the horde before he was bogged down by the weight of the bodies.

  Behind the gate, the people of Hopetown were about to move into their places, but they saw the big truck pulling the five cars behind it and were flummoxed as to what could be going on. Why would Carl be pulling cars, and why would he be going right into the middle of them where he couldn’t possibly get out?

  The truck moved on until it was lost in a sea of moving, stinking corpses, hundreds on either side of the vehicles and between them. The weight was too much, and the truck could go no further.

  “What’s he doing?” Kim asked. “What the hell kind of plan do they have going?”

  “No idea. No one is answering the radio, either.” George was mad as a hornet. “I have no idea who came up with this stupid plan or how he thinks this will accomplish anything but getting Carl killed in that truck. Did Matt lose his mind?”

  They watched for another full five minutes, perplexed by this. Conner was ready to open the gate, but the SUV didn’t move.

  With no warning, the big truck exploded: shrapnel, bricks, tire rims, nails, bolts, screws, tools, car parts, cans, and other metal objects, as well as everything else they could find that had been loaded into the back, flew outward as other pieces went skyward. A gasoline can exploded too and fire rained, catching any zombies on fire that were still moving, and only a few remaine
d intact after that blast. Was it a mistake? An accident? The destruction was massive.

  In the SUV, Matt put his head against the steering wheel and fought waves of sadness. Jet cried openly.

  Julia gasped, grabbing Beth’s hand. “Oh, Dios Madre.”

  “Why?” George stammered. The bodies were everywhere, but more moved in to walk closer. Hundreds of zeds were on both sides, and another moaning hundred funneled in to stand close to the front of the car.

  Again, without warning, the car flew upward, and everything inside launched outward, as gasoline exploded with the C4 in a terrible explosion, hurting everyone’s ears. Hundreds more went to the ground: torn to shreds, decapitated, and burned up, ruined by the concussion of the force expelled.

  “Brilliant. I get why. But why?” George repeated. “What the hell made them do that?”

  They waited expectantly as more filled the area, oblivious to the death around them, and then the third car exploded. It took longer for the fourth car to blow. Zombies shambled into places beside and around the car, drawn by the almost dead batteries that played music, enticing the ghouls to gather for food. They stood thirty deep, moaning and gnashing their teeth.

  This was, by far, the biggest explosion yet, and it tore into the road, dropping everything into the crevasses and burning wildly as metal flew all over, destroying the zombies. People cheered, forgetting one of their own had sacrificed himself, but it was okay to cheer; it was a grand victory, no matter how bittersweet.

  George didn’t cheer but wondered what the plan had been and was unable to forget the monster truck, exploding into shreds.

  With the final explosion came mounds of partial bodies, twisted metal, bricks, and upended pavement, and enough of a mess was left so that when the next horde came through, as they would, they would fall a dozen times and have hell getting over the rubble.

  Matt drove inside and parked.

  Everyone was getting into position, but a few, Beth, Julia, Kim, Len, and George went to meet the team. The windows were tinted so no one knew who was in the SUV. Matt stepped out first, and Julia let a hiss of breath escape her.