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

by Westmore, Alex

  Dallas hit the mute button and almost wet herself when she turned and crashed into Einstein. “They’re full of it,” Einstein said. “I don’t know what game they’re at, but they don’t have a vaccine, and they sure as hell don’t have the manpower to go door-to-door administering it.”

  Roper stood at the foot of the stairs. “I agree...it’s horse shit. For some reason, they want to keep tabs on the living and keep us indoors.”

  “When they should be out killing the dead.” Dallas shook her head. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Who was able to sleep?” Roper asked.

  Einstein raised his hand. “I can sleep next to railroad tracks.”

  “Good to know. So, kid, what do you think of this?”

  “Containment. Pure and simple. At this point, based on what we’ve seen so far, the military is every bit our enemy as the man eaters, and everything they say and do is suspect.”

  Roper turned the television off. “I agree. We need to do the opposite of the bullshit on T.V.”

  “Then I think we best get to packing our gear and be ready so at first light we can saddle the horses and get out of here,” Dallas said.

  Roper studied the list on the table. “Smart. Every town we go near, we’ll grab whatever hasn’t been taken.” Slinging a battered Winchester rifle over her shoulder, she started for the front door. “I’m going to check on Mrs. Dumfy. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait,” Einstein said. “We should stay together.”

  “We need to be on the move soon, kid. You said it yourself, they’re probably not here yet.”

  Dallas grabbed a rifle. “I agree with Einstein on this. He can collect food from the pantry and get everything he thinks we’ll need. I’ll go with you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Roper. Let’s go.”

  Taking off across the dark field, Dallas whispered, “Do you wonder about your family?”

  Roper shook her head. “Nope. They wrote me off a long time ago. I’ve been undead to them since I was sixteen.”

  “Wow. How come?”

  “I’m...rebellious. I didn’t fit into their mold, so they sent me here to live with my grandparents. It’s where I learned how to rope and wrangle since even before I could walk. My granddaddy taught me everything I know: how to box, shoot a rifle, wrangle cattle, barrel race. You name it.”

  “Box?”

  Roper chuckled. “He was a Golden Gloves boxer as a young guy. Taught every woman in the family because he believed the best defense was a strong...right hook.” She laughed and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Dallas smiled softly. She liked her laugh. It sounded genuine, like warm honey drizzled on a latte.

  “When my granddaddy died, he took a part of me with him but left a larger part of him with me. They were great people...the salt of the earth. Not a day goes by I don’t feel the loss.”

  They came to a barbed wire fence. Roper put one foot on to lower one wire and raised the one above it to create an easy hole for Dallas to pass through.

  “What do you think he’d tell you to do now?” Dallas returned the favor and helped Roper through the fence.

  “You know, I asked him that once. My granddaddy was not a fan of the American government or the press he was certain it controlled.”

  “Ah. Hence the ‘do the opposite’ comment.”

  Roper stopped to look at Dallas and realized the deepest part of night was giving way to the light. “Do you disagree?”

  “No, Rope, I don’t. I can’t get beyond the fact that they haven’t shared with us how to kill them. You’d think that would be the first step to eradication.”

  Roper cocked her head. “Eradication? Maybe I should have called you Einstein.”

  Dallas shrugged. “I read. A lot. There’s a lot of down time at the station.” She paused and looked down. “Or was. I wonder what the rest of the guys are doing.”

  About ten minutes later, they made it to Mrs. Dumfy’s house, a small place that reminded Dallas of Dorothy’s house in the Wizard of Oz. The splintered house was painted blue and half of the white gutters hung useless from the roof. The front porch was in similar disrepair, with only the wheelchair ramp appearing somewhat new.

  “Shit,” Roper said, crouching behind the brick mailbox pillar. “Kitchen light is on.”

  “You think she’s up?”

  “I have no idea. Sometimes her son stops by for breakfast before he takes to the roads again.”

  “He’s a trucker?”

  “Not sure what he does, really. I just know he drives to Oakland, picks…something up, and delivers it here in the Tri-Valley area.”

  Dallas squinted through the semi-darkness. “In that a truck over there by the barn?”

  Roper squinted in the semi-darkness. “Well, that explains the light. He must have come to stay with her. That’s the kind of son he is.”

  “Then let’s go back.”

  Roper turned to follow, but that’s when they heard that low, creepy moaning of the undead.

  Dallas immediately pressed her back against Roper’s and raised the rifle she’d never shot. “Where did that come from?”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit. The barn?”

  “We’re not going in there. Let’s check the house for your neighbor and get the hell out of here.”

  The moaning grew louder now, at least four other voices joined in. “There’s more than one.”

  Roper picked up a rock and threw it near the truck. She could barely make out the taillights and bumper on it, but she knew it was the kind of truck that often carried hay. It had wooden slats about seven feet high and a gate-like hatch on the back. Mrs. Dumfy’s son, Neville, had always used it to take the free hay her granddaddy always gave them.

  When the rock landed, the moaning got louder but didn’t seem mobile. “Are they in the barn?” Dallas asked, straining to hear.

  “I can’t tell.”

  “How the hell did they get out here so fast?”

  “No clue. Let’s just go around back and look in the windows. If she’s fine, we’ll do what we came to do.”

  “And if she’s not?”

  “Run like hell.” Moving to the back of the small house, Roper whispered, “I really gotta show you how to shoot that thing. Until then, I’ll take point.”

  As they maneuvered down the side of the house, Dallas got a flash of something from the corner of her eye. It came from the bed of the truck, like it had reflected the light from the kitchen.

  “I think there’s something in the back of the truck,” Dallas whispered.

  “Okay. I’ll take one look into the house, and then we’re outta here.” Roper looked through the kitchen window and saw Mrs. Dumfy sitting in her wheelchair watching T.V., her back to the window.

  “She’s in there...watching T.V.” Roper cupped her eyes and peered back in. “There’s her son. He’s...” Roper pushed herself away from the window so quickly, she fell backwards. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  Dallas didn’t need to look to know. Instead, she yanked Roper to her feet and pulled her back toward the field just as the remnants of darkness gave that she could see eight Hispanic man eaters banging on the sides of the truck from inside the bed.

  “Run like hell!” she yelled, shoving Roper forward. They ran as fast as they could, crouching to slip between the barbed wire, until they reached Roper’s house.

  Einstein was immediately at the bottom of the steps. “What happened?”

  “They’re...they’re...here.”

  “What? There’s no way. Not unless they can drive, and we know—” He stopped when he realized how heavily both were breathing.

  Roper was bent over, hands on knees, and tried desperately to slow down her breathing. “My neighbor...sometimes collects...immigrants...for yard work...” She held up her hand while she finally caught her breath. “One of them must have been bitten by a man eater when they were in the truck.”

  Dallas swore under her breath. “My
guess is he didn’t know he was carrying the infected until he got out to let them out. He must have been bitten before he could let them out.”

  “So he went in search of the easiest prey—a woman in a wheelchair.” Roper stepped to the side and vomited in the rose bushes. When she finished, she swiped her mouth with her arm and righted herself. “He...he was eating her face when we looked in.”

  “Oh crap. Oh man, Roper. I am so sorry.”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up taller. “We gotta go. Now. It’s only a matter of time before those things break out of the truck. Those slats aren’t that strong.” Roper moved with a sense of purpose now. “Dallas, help me with the horses. Einstein, bring all the food and weapons to the barn and anything else you collected.” Without waiting for a reply, she took off for the barn, with Dallas following closely behind.

  In the barn, they saddled up four horses, the last to use as a pack animal to carry their food and supplies.

  Einstein had to make several trips back and forth before completing his task while Roper saddled each horse and checked each horse’s hooves. Dallas moved her Harley into the barn and went through her saddlebags to remove tools, sunglasses, gloves, bungee cords, and a first aid kit.

  No one spoke as they each completed their task as quietly as they could. Every five minutes, Roper would glance in the direction of Mrs. Dumfy’s house before continuing with the horses. When she finished, the packhorse was ready and three other horses stood patiently waiting to ride.

  “Let’s do some quick introductions. This beige beauty is Gwen. Einstein, you can ride her.”

  Einstein walked up and gently patted the horse’s cheek. “So soft.”

  Roper stared at him. “You’ve never pet a horse?”

  He blushed as he shook his head. “I’m a city kid...at least, I was. Not quite sure what I am today, though.”

  Handing Dallas reins to a dapple-grey mare, Roper said, “This is Morgana. She isn’t as calm as Gwen, but as long as you act like you’re the boss, she won’t give you fits.”

  Dallas put her hands on the horse’s neck and smiled. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes she is and she knows it.” Roper tied the fourth horse behind Einstein and Gwen. The horse was white with a few patches of black here and there. “This is Lance. He’s one of the horses I use for roping. The black beauty over there is—”

  “Merlin,” Dallas said. “You’ve named them after Arthurian folklore.”

  Roper beamed. “Well done, Dallas. Yes, one of my all-time favorite books is Mists of Avalon. I named all my horses after characters.”

  After a short briefing on how to ride a horse, Roper shoved two rifles on either side of each horse for a total of eight rifles. She kept one slung across her back, her rope attached to her belt, her Smith and Wesson, and her Buck knife. She reminded Dallas of a western Lara Croft.

  Once astride their horses, Roper led them from the barn and up into the foothills just as the sunlight peeked over the hills. When they reached the first peak, about half a mile from Roper’s house, she turned her horse back for one last look.

  What she saw froze her blood.

  “They got out,” Dallas whispered, watching the man eaters half walking, half limping into the barbed wire fence they couldn’t figure out how to get through.

  “That pretty much says all we need to know.”

  Reaching over in the saddle, Dallas touched Roper’s elbow. “I’m so sorry.”

  Roper turned Merlin’s head to the left and waved her off. “Nothing we can do about it now. Our job is to stay alive, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Pulling up behind her, Dallas wondered just how hard it would be to accomplish that feat.

  They rode for an hour in silence until Einstein said he really had to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he saw a couple of soda cans and a bottle sitting on various branches of a small tree.

  “Hold your breath, then slowly squeeze the trigger. Never jerk it. A slow, even stroke, but make sure the butt stays against this curvy part of your shoulder or the kick could really hurt.” Roper pressed the gun butt to Dallas’s shoulder. “Keep it here.”

  Dallas missed the first one, then narrowly missed the second one. The third ripped through the can.

  “Well done. Now, you teach Einstein what I taught you and then we’ll go over handguns.”

  For the next thirty minutes, they shot at cans and bottles until there was nothing left of either. “Nice job, you two. We’ll pick up more ammo along the way. Folks out here all carry guns.”

  “You gonna show us the rope?” Einstein asked.

  “No. What I do took years to learn, and thousands of hours of practice.”

  “Show us.” Einstein looked at Dallas, who smiled.

  “Yeah. Show us.”

  Roper unclipped the rope from her belt. “Fine. Take off.”

  “What?”

  “Start running.”

  Einstein started running, and Roper whirled the rope over her head...once, twice...three times around before she released it in his direction. The rope fell around his shoulders and she yanked her end of it, securing the rope around him. Another yank pulled him off his feet backwards.

  “Whoa,” Dallas said, “that was awesome.”

  Helping Einstein out of the rope, Roper blushed. “Thanks. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

  “Well, you’re very good. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

  They rode on for another hour in single file, each quiet with their own thoughts. They kept at a walking pace until they came to a flat area about three quarters of a mile in diameter.

  “We can go around or ride hard through,” Roper said.

  “Let’s ride hard through,” Dallas replied, regripping the reins. So far they’d tried to ride along the tree line to avoid being spotted by helicopters. There were none, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. They’d only crossed the freeway once, and it was dotted with cars that had either stalled or had the driver shot in the head.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that back there,” Dallas said as they made their way up to the plateau.

  Roper turned. “Know what has always made me feel better? Riding. Come on!” She took off across the plateau, Merlin’s hooves beating into the grass.

  Dallas looked over at the wide-eyed Einstein. “Well...in for a penny, in for a pound. Come on!” Spurring Morgana on, she rode as hard as she dared, feeling the fillings jar in her teeth as her butt slammed down into the saddle. Once she settled into the rhythm of the horse’s gait, it was a much smoother ride.

  Not so for Einstein.

  As he and Gwen’s uneasy alliance struggled across the field, gunshots rang out in the distance. The horse took off like a shot, dumping Einstein onto the ground and into the tall, wheat-colored grass.

  “Oh crap,” Roper said, turning Merlin back to the field.

  “Wait!” Dallas cocked her head before pointing to the sky.

  “Oh shit.”

  Choppers.

  Staying beneath the cover of the trees, Roper looked hard at Dallas. “I can get him.”

  “I’m sure you could, but we’re not risking it.” Cupping her hands around her mouth, Dallas yelled, “Stay down!” to Einstein, who had just stood up and was dusting himself off. He dove back to the ground and began covering himself up with grass.

  Hopping off Merlin, Roper quickly undid his saddle and started taking everything off. “What are you doing?”

  “Look at the grass we rode through.”

  Dallas did and noticed three very distinct lines cut by the horses.

  As Roper worked to remove the bridle, the helicopter came over the small hill like a gigantic dragonfly looking for food. As it passed over the field, Dallas held her breath. Then it slowly turned and came back. Roper pulled a rifle out and aimed at the chopper.

  “What are you doing?” Dallas asked.

  “They kill the kid, we kill them. Quid pro quo
.”

  Dallas reached back and pulled her rifle out as well. “Where am I shooting?”

  “The rudder. If we bring it down, we have a better chance of taking out the shooters.”

  Dallas placed the butt against her shoulder and waited as Roper slapped Merlin’s haunches and sent the horse back into the field.

  As soon as the chopper turned toward the horse, the Blackhawk veered right and took off, destination unknown.

  Lowering her rifle, Dallas said, “That was brilliant.”

  “Nah. We just needed them to see what might have made those tracks.”

  Five minutes later, they were all back in the saddle and heading southeast. “You okay, kid?” Roper asked.

  Einstein rubbed his butt. “Can you break your ass?”

  The women both laughed.

  As they rode parallel to the interstate and frontage road, they saw where Roper’s neighbors’ red camper had crashed into a gully.

  “Oh…no—”

  All the windows had been shot out.

  “We need to check for survivors,” Dallas said. To her surprise, Roper shook her head.

  “No. If anyone were alive in there, they’d have gotten out when the chopper left. They’re all dead or long gone. They took a chance and it didn’t pay off. Keep moving.”

  Dallas couldn’t miss the harshness in Roper’s voice. In less than twelve hours, she’d seen her neighbors turned into those things and others killed by a military that was supposed to protect them. The bitterness was tangible.

  So, keep moving they did.

  When they found a safe place to stop in a small patch of ancient oaks, they watered the horses before opening the trail mix and water for themselves.

  “We’ll need to get on the other side of the aqueduct and then go into town,” Roper said before tossing some trail mix back in her mouth.

  “I don’t like the idea of being that vulnerable crossing the aqueduct,” Dallas said.

  “Agreed. It’s safer if we go on foot. We can leave the kid with the horses. We won’t be able to carry as much, but we’ll be safer in town on foot.”

  Dallas turned to Einstein. “You okay with that?”

  He nodded. “I don’t see that we have much choice. We need water and we ought to get it every chance we can.”