Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 1): Ride For Tomorrow

by Westmore, Alex

  Dallas went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out all kinds of dinner fixings and laid them on the counter in neat little rows. It angered her that a mundane chore of cooking dinner could mean so much and take her focus off the dangers threatening them now, but they had to eat and needed to eat well. If there was one thing she had learned at the fire station, it was the importance of fueling one’s body.

  Einstein cocked his head before jumping up and looking out the big picture window. He stayed there for a couple of minutes.

  “Relax, Einstein. It would take them at least ten hours to get here. We have a little time,” Dallas said softly.

  “Still, I think we ought to sleep upstairs with someone guarding, switching every four hours.”

  Dallas glanced up. “Every four hours?”

  He nodded. “The biggest mistake people make in zombie movies is to think they are safe.”

  “And we’re not.”

  He shook his head and returned to the couch. “We so are not.”

  Dallas was almost finished with her salad when Roper came out, drying her hair with a blue towel. It was not the first time Dallas realized how pretty she was. She had that fresh faced, I-don’t- need-to-wear-makeup look. She had piercing blue eyes on either side of a nose that looked like it had been broken a time or two. Dallas imagined roping cattle might make one susceptible to an occasional broken bone or two.

  “What smells so good?” Roper asked, smiling at Dallas.

  “Pasta with a white wine sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, and asparagus.”

  “Oh God, I didn’t realize I was so hungry. My mouth is actually watering. Look.”

  Roper opened her mouth for Dallas, who laughed and shoved her away. “You and your mouth can relax until it’s ready.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Well, dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Why don’t we see what’s going on out there?” Dallas motioned for Einstein to sit on the sofa and waited for Roper to reach for the controls. When she did, she looked at Dallas and smiled. “The sweats are quite a departure for the Harley chick, but you look great.”

  Dallas felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Thank you. You’re quite a bit leaner than I am.”

  “Lean, mean, fighting machine, sista.” Turning the television on, Roper finished drying her hair. The red ticker tape at the bottom of the screen reminded everyone to stay in their homes. The sound of the emergency warning system blared until Roper turned the volume down just enough so they could still hear that horrible sound, but it wasn’t deafening.

  Every channel was the same.

  “I guess we can eat first and wait for any news.”

  Dallas had already set the table, so when Einstein and Roper sat down all she had to do was serve the pasta and salad.

  They ate their meal in relative silence. Every now and then, Roper would look up and say, “This is so good.”

  Finally, Dallas replied, “I cook a lot at the station...or I did.”

  When the emergency warning system suddenly stopped, all three rose and stood in front of the television. There was no newsroom, no famous anchor. Instead, there was the national press secretary standing alone at a podium in a room devoid of reporters.

  “Containing this epidemic is proving to be more difficult than initially expected. You must stay indoors. Do not go out. Do not allow anyone in. Consider everyone outside your home to be a danger. The military is currently working on a vaccine to ensure the safety of the uninfected population. Until that happens, all citizens must remain inside. Anyone not obeying the martial law order will be considered infected and destroyed. At the moment there is no known cure for this disease, so anyone not following the law will be shot on sight. We are working ’round the clock to find a vaccine, but you must follow these directives.” The secretary left the podium, and the television returned to its regular snowy reception.

  “He’s full of shit,” Einstein said, returning to the table to finish dinner.

  “Because?”

  “Unless our government knew beforehand about the virus, they can’t just whip up a vaccine. Something like that can take years.”

  Dallas tapped her chin. “You’re right, but if that’s true, what’s their end game here?”

  Einstein shrugged. “Hard to say. At this point, we’ve been operating on video game and movie lore.”

  “So far, it’s kept us alive,” Roper replied, twisting pasta on her fork.

  “But for how long?” Dallas asked to no one in particular.

  It was a rhetorical question that neither answered. Instead, they finished their meal in eerie silence.

  “Okay,” Dallas started, “first thing’s first. At any time, if any of us wants to peel away or go on our own, we are free to do so. No guilt, no regrets. Just best wishes and good luck.”

  Roper nodded. “Agreed. You get one weapon and our blessings, but anything collected along the way stays with the group.”

  All three nodded.

  “Okay. Next on the agenda. Are we gonna stay here or not?”

  Roper and Dallas looked to Einstein, who shook his head. “Staying is a bad idea. It would be safer to get to a state that wasn’t attacked.” He slid a list onto the table. “These are the ten cities attacked.”

  Roper pulled it to her and read them out loud. “San Fran, Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, Miami, D.C., New York, Nashville, Little Rock, and Houston.” She bowed her head, repeating the final city.

  Dallas reached over and laid her hand on top of Roper’s. “My family is in Houston as well. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Roper sighed heavily. “I know. That’s the hardest part, isn’t it? How do we just turn our backs on our loved ones?”

  “The way to survive this, Roper, is to take care of yourself first. Always make sure you’re safe, and never count on anyone jumping in to save the day. That’s how you help your family: you stay alive,” Einstein said.

  Dallas gave Roper’s hand a quick squeeze. “Okay. So you think we need to get out of California?”

  Einstein paced across the room. “The farther we are from cities, the better our chances are. Cities are where they’ll find food, find each other, and multiply, so our best bet is to go somewhere without a dense population.”

  Roper and Dallas both said, “The desert.”

  This made Einstein’s face break into a grin. “See? Already you guys are thinking like gamers. Yeah. The desert is a good bet for the time being. Low population, hard for them to walk fast in sand, and we can see them coming for miles.”

  “And we get there how?” Einstein deferred to Roper with an open palm.

  “Horses. Horses will take us off the grid. It will obviously be slower going, but with horses, there’s no limit to where we can go that the soldiers can’t adequately patrol.” Roper rose and returned with a folded road atlas. She spread it out on the table and flattened the wrinkles out with her palm. “By navigating the hills and back roads, we stay away from soldiers and man eaters alike.”

  Dallas studied the map. “It’s as sound a plan as any. We know we can’t stay on the Harley and we can’t stay here.”

  “No, we can’t. If what we saw on the bridge and after rings true, they will travel in hordes, picking up strays along the way, killing more to add exponentially to their numbers,” Einstein explained.

  “If they travel in hordes, won’t they be easier to kill?”

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily. If you attack them like that, they’ll scatter...and then create little hordes we call packs in the games. Packs grow and—”

  “Become hordes.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you think packs are on their way?”

  “Yes. Packs are happening as we speak.” Einstein pointed to the map. “Don’t confuse their slowness with immobility. They will walk all day and all night, never needing fuel or rest. Those which fell into the bay will walk right out and begin searching for human flesh.”

  Dalla
s started doing the math in her head. “So they’ll make their way through Oakland and Berkeley, growing stronger.”

  “Yes. And that’s why we’re relatively safe for tonight. There’s a whole lot of feeding to be had between here and there, but as they grow, so does the threat.”

  “I’ll get the horses ready in the morning, but for now...” Roper left the room and returned five minutes later with an armful of rifles, handguns, and several large knives. Dallas reached for the Glock, but Einstein made no move toward a weapon other than the Buck knife.

  “Strap the knife around your thigh, and never be without it. My dad taught me a rifle runs out of bullets, but a knife is your friend forever. Just make sure you retrieve it.”

  Dallas took the sheath and strapped it on.

  “Okay, pull it out quickly and practice sticking it in,” Einstein said. “Cut off the head, stab the eye, or shove it into the frontal lobe of the brain, but never attack lower than the head. It won’t do any good. They aren’t vampires. The heart is already dead. You have to turn the only engine off it has and that’s the brain.

  “And if we’re behind it?”

  “At the base, right back here,” Einstein put his hand behind his head and showed them where.

  “Where you wear the sheath is up to you, Dallas, but I’ve always preferred it on my weak side so when I draw it, I can quickly slash, like so.” Roper pulled the knife out with her right hand and slashed across her body. “But it’s personal preference.”

  Dallas untied her sheath and put it on her right thigh. “Left-handed,” she said.

  Roper offered her a slight grin. “Good. Either of you ever shoot a gun?”

  Einstein had not. Dallas had shot one of her colleagues’ once a couple of years ago.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll set up some targets. We can practice before going.”

  Einstein took his glasses off and cleaned them. “Running out of ammo is a huge factor in the games, so let’s make sure we don’t waste too much of it.”

  Roper strapped on what looked like a gun from the Wild West.

  “Does that thing work?” Dallas asked playfully.

  “This?” Pulling out the four-inch barreled .357 Magnum, Roper aimed it out the window. “At this range, if I shot you in the stomach, it would cut you in half. I’m leaving the automatics for you guys since they take less skill and accuracy to fire.”

  “And the rifles?”

  “Stay with the horses for now.” Roper watched Einstein yawn. “I’ll take first watch. Why don’t you both get some rest?”

  “I’ll take second,” Dallas offered. “Our little brainiac needs a good eight hours.” “Good. We’ll leave at daybreak.”

  Einstein started up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. “Thanks for letting me stay with you guys. I promise I’ll earn my keep.”

  Dallas tilted her head as she looked at him. He was probably a geeky gamer who was friends with the brilliant Asian students and the pock-marked fat kid everyone teased.

  “You already have, Einstein. You already have.”

  When it came time for her watch, Dallas felt like she had just closed her eyes.

  “Sorry,” Roper said, sitting on the edge of the guest bed. “I wish I could let you sleep longer, but my eyelids are disobeying orders.”

  Dallas slowly sat up, feeling thickheaded and groggy. “No sorries, Roper. We’re all doing the best we can.”

  “Well, it’s quiet out there, for the most part.”

  Dallas was suddenly awake. “The most part?”

  Roper rose and looked out the window. “Some of my neighbors have left under the cover of darkness. Others were starting generators. Preparing, I suppose, for the worst. But no man eaters.”

  “Not yet.” Dallas swung her legs around.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Dallas thought she heard something in Roper’s voice. “What is it?”

  Kneeling in front of Dallas, Roper sighed heavily. “We’re putting a lot of faith in the active imagination of a teenage gamer.”

  Dallas pulled on her steel-toed boots that looked ridiculous with her sweats. “Maybe, but he hasn’t been wrong yet.”

  “No, he hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean he’ll always be right.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Your clothes are in the dryer.”

  Dallas smiled. It had been a long time since a woman had done her laundry. Lisa had always preferred they each did their own. “Thank you.” As she started for the door, she slowly turned. “We’re going to get out of this alive, Roper.”

  Roper smiled softly. “I sure as hell hope so. I have plans for my life, and they don’t include being anyone’s lunch.”

  After changing back into her leather biker gear, Dallas tried her phone again. The towers had to be unmanned at this point, just as the newsrooms had been evacuated. That meant the towns had probably been plundered a la New Orleans during Katrina. They would need to frequent towns for supplies along the way for rations like bottled water and food, but they would do so only with care and trepidation.

  Food.

  Dallas started writing a list of smart food choices. Foods high in vitamins and nutrients, but easy to carry and eat on the run. Trail mix, she thought. Nuts. Energy bars. Foods that needed no refrigeration. It was only a matter of time before the infrastructure collapsed in California. With no one at the wheel, the energy grid would fail.

  They would need to grab canned foods with a long shelf life, like Spam and sardines, and vitamins. A good multivitamin would at least keep them healthy while eating substandard foods.

  Beef jerky. That was a must. Lightweight, no storage issues. It would replace the meat that would go south when the electricity went down. How about—

  She stopped writing when she heard it. Something was near the front door. Grabbing the automatic, she checked the safety and racked one back like Roper had showed her.

  Pressing her back against the wall, she considered going upstairs and barricading them all in, but then she remembered Einstein’s admonition about going up. Up was a death sentence. No, she would have to handle this on her own.

  She crouched on her knees on the other side of the door, and then Dallas decided lighting up the trespasser would be the best thing to do. With the Glock in her left hand, she turned the porch light on and flung the door open with her right before bringing it to the grip.

  “Oh shit, whoa! Don’t shoot. I’m human!” A young twenty-something man stumbled back off the porch, hands in the air.

  Dallas stepped out to the porch, gun aimed at him. Before she could say anything, Roper was by her side, the .357 out and pointed at his crotch.

  “Jesus, Walter, what in the hell are you doing?”

  As Walter rose, he brushed himself off. “I was leaving you a note letting you know where we’re going in case you wanted to join us later. I had no idea you were home.”

  Roper reached down for the note poking out from an antique milk urn holding an asparagus fern. “Mexico?”

  He nodded. “Country’s in a shit load of trouble, Roper. We’re heading south.”

  “Past Los Angeles? Those things are there, too.”

  He looked at the red camper idling just down the road a bit. “Etta’s folks are in Bakersfield. We’ve got to get them outta there. You can come with us, Roper.”

  Roper shook her head. “Thank you, Walt, but we’ve got a plan as well and it doesn’t include going anywhere near Bakersfield or L.A. But thank you.”

  “I wish you all the best, Rope. Oh...if you think of it, you might check on old Mrs. Dumfy. She may need some help before you go.”

  “Will do. Good luck, Walt.”

  When he disappeared into the red camper, Dallas turned to Roper, her heart rate only now returning to normal. “Mrs. Dumfy?”

  Roper wiped her sweaty palms before holstering the gun. “She’s in a wheelchair. I’ll check on her before we go, make sure she can reach all her food and water.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It
’s the least I can do.”

  Dallas watched Roper trudge back up the stairs, her shoulders now heavy with the burden of leaving someone to an indescribable fate.

  For the next hour, Dallas stood watch on the porch. A dog barked in the distance. How long would it be before they came this far inland? And how come the military hadn’t told the living how to protect themselves? Were they afraid the living would turn on each other, so instead, the military turned their weapons on the living? And when were they beyond the point of no return?

  She sat on the top stair, the Glock lying in her lap, and wondered if she would have been safer solo on the Harley. She could travel during the night. She could reach the border to Nevada in an eighth of the time it would take on a horse. She could go a great deal faster with just herself and the bike.

  But she could never live with herself if she left them here. It just wasn’t in her character to turn her back on someone who needed help. That was why being a firefighter had been the perfect job for her—and she’d loved every second of it. It never mattered to what job she was assigned, she attacked it with gusto. From breaking down doors to…

  Dallas slowly rose. There were tools at a fire station that would come in handy. Making a mental note to stop at a fire station when they could so safely, Dallas stood watch until the television came to life once more.

  “Good news for Californians! The military research team has developed a vaccine for this virus and they will be bringing it to your homes. That’s right. Help is on the way! Since they will only inject it into those who are inside their homes, it is imperative you wait there. Behind me, you can see the map of the Bay Area, from San Francisco to the Central Valley. Already, the cities of Oakland, Berkeley, and Alameda are receiving the inoculation, with towns up and down 580 receiving treatment in order.

  “To better facilitate this, the President is asking everyone to paint a number on their house, indicating how many people are inside. No number means no vaccine. If you just caught the tail end of this, it will be a looped recording for the next 24 hours. Should you come in contact with the infected, do not engage, but remove yourself to a safe place. Help will be there shortly.”