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

by Westmore, Alex

  “So, Barstow to grab another Hummer, huh? Why not just break into a car lot?”

  “We don’t want a civilian Hummer. We want a military one. Night and day difference.”

  “Ah. I see. Why not also get one of those deluxe Monarchs or Winnebagos to stay in? I mean, sleeping on the ground must get old.”

  “Safer up here, and the flat nose of those motorhomes would make it hard to cut through a crowd of those things.” This came from Einstein, who finally found his voice.

  “But a small, self-contained unit might be just the ticket, especially now you’re able to travel.”

  Dallas looked over at Roper, who was nodding. “It’s not a bad idea for once we get on Route 66. We could at least have a little comfort.”

  Einstein shook his head. “It would only slow us down. What we need is one more Hummer, additional gas cans strapped to the roof, and then a beeline to the Gulf.”

  Butcher agreed. “We could make it in this, but I think we need to grab all our supplies, including fuel and then make one big push.”

  “I think we need more weapons and ammo,” Safety offered. “We don’t know how the rest of the country is gonna react to us, and we gotta assume it ain’t gonna be good.”

  Butcher nodded again. “From here on out, we’re on our own, people. We take care of us first. We assume everyone is insane or undead until proven otherwise. Any questions?”

  Cassidy raised her hand. “Are we there yet?”

  Everyone laughed.

  They made it to Barstow in a couple of hours, but the number of undead they saw as they drove along the freeway gave everyone pause.

  “What the hell happened?” Safety asked.

  “Well, the way I figure it, the military was able to cut San Francisco off from the East Bay, but the zombies in Los Angeles have had weeks to migrate. Obviously, they made their way here on their way east,” Roper said.

  Dallas pulled off to a frontage road and took the Hummer off-road to a small knoll overlooking the town of Barstow. There were large hills and small mountains all over the place here, between the main highway and the town, which was nestled down in a wide valley.

  Everyone got out to stretch while Dallas and Roper peered through binoculars at the town and army base.

  “It’s completely overrun,” Roper said, handing the binoculars to Butcher. “I count at least three dozen military zombies schlepping through town.”

  “We need to skip this idea and head east. There’s too many of them,” Roper said.

  “No fucking way,” Butcher murmured, adjusting the binoculars. “I can’t believe it.”

  “What?”

  She lowered the binoculars. “There’s a Fuchs four point five just inside the base.”

  Roper and Dallas looked at each other and shrugged. “It’s Greek to me.”

  Butcher lightly grinned. “A Fuchs is a fully amphibious vehicle with a gun turret, a night vision system, and NBC protection.”

  “NBC?”

  “Nuclear, Bio, and Chemical warfare protection.”

  “It needs a Z,” Einstein mocked, “for zombie.”

  Butcher’s voice rose slightly. “No, no. You guys don’t get it. That vehicle could carry all of us comfortably and safely, and the best part is not only could get us through the bayou without issue, but if we are in an area that is bombed with that bioweapon, we’ll be notified and can stay safely inside.” She looked through the binoculars again. “Having that could keep us all together and get us there safely with maybe one or two stops.” She handed the binoculars back. “She’s definitely worth the effort. It’s something to think about.”

  Roper looked through the glasses. “It’s ugly.”

  “But functional. Very functional. See that gun on top? It’s a forty-millimeter mount that can be operated from the inside with a joystick. It would really protect us. We’d never have to stick our heads outside to fire it.”

  Dallas studied it as well. “The front looks like it could cut right through a football field full of them.”

  “Dallas, this all sounds well and good, but I don’t see any safe way of getting to that vehicle.”

  Einstein stepped up to Roper and shielded his eyes from the sun. “I, for one, am all for a weapon we can shoot from the belly of an armored vehicle and protect us from a bioweapon.”

  Safety came up behind Einstein and put both hands on his shoulders. “I agree with the kid. Staying together should be our first priority. If that machine will keep us safer together, then I think it’s worth the risk.”

  “That’s an awful big risk,” Cassidy said.

  Roper shook her head. “Not really.” Then she explained what they thought they knew about the genetic issue and the gay gene.

  “You have got to be kidding,” Cassidy said. “Are you certain?”

  “Ninety-nine percent. I think we can do it.”

  “Then I agree with Safety and Einstein. I say we stick together and go get us that tank.”

  Butcher ran her hand through her hair. “We can’t stop all the jerk-offs from trying to take the Hummer, but the Fuchs? Oh hell no. Not only will we have vision at night, we’ll cream anyone before they even have a chance to approach. I say we need to go all in on this one.”

  Roper nodded. “It’s time this wasn’t so hard on us, and we do need to stay together. Defending one vehicle has been a challenge...but two? We need that thing.”

  Dallas studied the landscape below. “Those things must have started inside the base and worked their way out like Luke said. Lots of men and women in uniform.”

  “My guess is,” Butcher said, “testing went awry in there and blew up in their faces. Whatever the reason, there’s a butt-load of shit down there that could get us where we need to go unscathed.”

  “Unscathed sounds almost too good to be true.”

  “If you three are willing to risk it...” Butcher added.

  “I am,” Safety blurted out. “I just don’t know the safest way in there.”

  Dallas returned her attention to the base, a slow smile spreading on her face. “I do.”

  The fire engine came crashing through the front gate, bowling over a dozen undead who had immediately started through the new opening. At the wheel, Dallas drove directly up to the Fuchs. On the cherry picker sat Butcher, the only one of them who had any hope of knowing what to do with such a complex piece of machinery. Dallas hadn’t wanted to bring her, but Butcher and Roper had made too strong a case, so Butcher waited in the cherry picker while Dallas, Roper, and Safety made their way to the Fuchs.

  When Dallas pulled close enough to the Fuchs, she grabbed the joysticks and began positioning the cherry picker by slowing moving it up and over to them.

  “Good thing you know how to use that thing. I’d have her all over the place,” commented Roper. “I suck at video games of any kind.”

  Dallas kept her eye on the crowd of undead that had noticed Butcher and were wandering toward the fire truck.

  “Shit.” Roper said, raising her rifle.

  “No, save your bullets until we get her in the vehicle.”

  Roper’s eyes followed the basket on the end of the ladder. “That woman has balls of steel, and I am so glad she is part of us.”

  “You’re right up there with her, my little high wire friend. That balancing act on the bridge made me wet myself.”

  Roper never took her eyes off the sights. “Yeah well, I obviously knew a good thing when I saw it.”

  Dallas managed a slight grin as she expertly swung the basket over to the Fuchs. “Okay, Butcher, easy does it.”

  The undead gathered around the Fuchs, but it was too tall and shaped in such a way as to be impossible to climb up unassisted. The ladder on the back was not a piece of equipment they could manage.

  “We gotta a whole bunch coming this way,” Safety said from the back of the fire truck. “Five dozen, at least.”

  Dallas looked behind her as the horde grew around them, all clambering to get to the Fuc
hs and Butcher. Lowering the basket, Dallas held her breath as Butcher climbed out of the basket onto the top of the Fuchs. Within seconds, she disappeared inside it.

  “Oh mother-of-God,” Safety cried. “Dallas!”

  Turning around, Dallas stared as undead soldiers streamed out from inside the barracks and other buildings. Hundreds of them crowded around the two vehicles.

  “Shit,” Roper uttered. “Get us out of here, Dallas.”

  “Not until Butcher gets that thing started.”

  Suddenly, Safety’s weapon discharged. When Roper glanced over, she realized the zombies were clamoring around the fire truck. “What the fuck? They shouldn’t be trying to get up here!” Roper yelled.

  “Why are they trying to get up here?” Safety asked as the zombies’ outstretched arms reached for the sky.

  “They just know she was up. In the air. That’s the last they know,” Roper said.

  “Come on, Butcher,” Dallas muttered, her eyes never leaving the hatch.

  Time ticked slowly as Dallas, Roper, and Safety waited for the Fuchs to come to life. With every second that passed, more and more undead soldiers crowded around the two vehicles until they were ten and eleven zombies deep all the way around them.

  Turning completely around, Dallas knew the wall of bodies would prevent her from backing out. The flat back of the fire truck wouldn’t be able to peel off the human wall gathered behind them. “We’re blocked in,” she said, realizing too late that she hadn’t left herself any room to maneuver.

  Suddenly, the Fuchs roared to life, and Butcher popped out of the top hatch. Surveying the scene, she instantly understood what was happening. “Get out of that thing!” she yelled. “Come across on the ladder!”

  “Oh hell no,” Safety said. “Me and ladders don’t mix. Uh oh. No way.”

  “We have to, Safety. We’re boxed in here.” Dallas turned the fire truck engine off and hopped out of her seat. “Come on.”

  Roper was right behind her, but Safety refused to move. “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s...it’s a phobia I have. I fell off a ladder when I was a kid and broke my back. You girls go.”

  Dallas hesitated. “We’ll move the Fuchs closer. You can jump.”

  Safety shook his head. “Just run a block for me. I’ll follow in the wake.”

  She nodded and started across the ladder, followed by Roper. When they got to the Fuchs, Butcher helped them off the ladder and inside the vehicle. “Holy crap, it’s like the cockpit of a plane!”

  “But look at all this room. This will do nicely.”

  “Where’s Safety?” Butcher asked.

  “Too afraid of ladders. He wants us to pave the way. Said he’ll follow. As soon as we’re clear, we can pick him up.” Dallas sat in the co-pilot seat of a high-tech vehicle that looked like something out of Star Wars.

  “I’ll teach you both how to drive her. That way, we can just keep rolling to the Gulf.”

  “Good call on taking this, Butcher. You were right. It’s exactly what we need.”

  Dallas surveyed the inside of the vehicle. There were benches on either side in the back capable of holding at least a dozen people. There were first aid kits, fire retardant suits, and all sorts of military weapons hanging from the sides. While the back end was clearly for transport, the cab was a deluxe combination of high tech and infrared. It was breathtaking.

  As Butcher put the Fuchs into drive, the wedge-shaped front cut an easy path through the hundreds of bodies wandering aimlessly through the base. Looking out the tiny window in the back, Roper watched as Safety lowered himself off the fire truck and into the middle of the horde. “Jesus, that’s gutsy. Here he comes.”

  Safety lowered his shoulder and started running, knocking undead in his path this way and that as he followed the path carved out by the Fuchs. Any zombie stepping back into the cleared path was bashed to the ground by his lowered shoulder. Even as the horde slowly trudged after the Fuchs, Safety managed to put enough distance between himself and the horde for Butcher to lower the ramp so he could simply run right in.

  “That was impressive,” Roper said, clapping.

  Safety was out of breath. “Never...thought...being...gay...would have a benefit.”

  When the ramp was up, Butcher started back to where they’d left the others in the Hummer. As she drove, the radar beeped. “What the hell?” Looking at the radar, she saw a dozen or so dots approaching.

  “What is it?”

  Butcher studied the radar a moment. “Planes. About a dozen heading our way.” Putting the pedal to the metal, she made it to the others just before the jets flew overhead.

  “They’re headed toward Los Angeles,” Butcher noted. “Luke.”

  She nodded. “Get in here! Hurry!”

  When the ramp lowered, Roper and Safety hustled Einstein and Cassidy into the rig. “What’s going on?” Einstein asked when he saw and felt the tension inside the Fuchs.

  “The military is getting ready to bomb Los Angeles. Get in!” When everyone was in, Butcher raised the ramp and closed the doors before turning back to the freeway. As she was just about to get on it, the radar blipped. One of the jets had peeled away and was coming back. “Shit! I need a place to hide her.”

  “There!” Dallas said, pointing.

  It was a church connected a funeral home with a carport…a carport that was soon filled by the Fuchs just as the plane began retracing its path.

  “What’s going on?” Cassidy asked.

  “The military is bombing Los Angeles. They’re trying to get a handle on this.”

  “I thought you said they’d never—”

  Suddenly, a loud explosion shook the Fuchs as the jet roared by, dropping a bomb on the military base.

  When the rumbling ceased, everyone looked to Butcher. “He must have wanted to put those soldiers down.”

  Einstein shook his head. “I never thought we’d destroy our own infrastructure. I never imagined—”

  “Any of this?”

  Looking out the tiny window in the Fuch’s, Einstein shook his head. “All of this.”

  The Fuchs proved invaluable as they easily shoved stalled cars out of the way, had ample room to sit and even lay down, and could become a boat with a flick of a button. Butcher showed everyone how to operate the Fuchs and how to shoot the forty-millimeter machine gun mounted on the top. By the time everyone knew what the Fuchs could do, they were all in love with it.

  As they made their way east, there was much more movement around them as survivors headed away from California in vans, motorhomes, and high-end SUVs. After nearly twelve hours without stopping for anything more than bathroom breaks, Butcher pulled the Fuchs into a fire station off the freeway so everyone could get some well needed sleep. Dallas hopped out, ran around to the back of the building, and opened the far right garage bay.

  It was empty.

  “Pull her in,” Dallas said, watching Butcher back up the Fuchs.

  Once everyone was out and stretching, Safety said, “That thing’s a beast.” And so the Fuchs was christened.

  “Anyone seen any eaters in the last hour or two?” Dallas asked.

  “Nothing besides that one walking along the road way back there.”

  Although free of the zombie horde thriving in California, Colorado wasn’t zombie-free. Every zombie they passed, Butcher would back up and one of the others would put a cap in its head before moving on. Twice, families in campers pulled up next to them, thinking they were military, and when they realized it wasn’t the case, asked to share information.

  Sharing information looked very different now than it had when the first three started off on their own. Now, they remained in the Beast, one of them manning the forty while Butcher spoke through a five-inch diameter hole used for rifles. The first family’s eyes bugged out of their heads when Roper pointed the forty at their camper.

  “Don’t mean to be paranoid,” Butcher said, “but we’ve faced some living
who were far more dangerous than the undead.”

  Family number one nodded. They were from Las Vegas, where the virus had spread quickly due to the full casinos. The only usable piece of intel they got from that family was that the entire country was infected and the infrastructure was completely down.

  The second family had just left their basement after a month and was frightened and hungry. It was clear to everyone that these people hadn’t the first clue about how to survive this, and when Butcher closed the circular window, she said, “They’re toast.”

  Family number three wasn’t a family at all, but a Boy Scout Troop of eight heading east. They had heard there was a safe zone in Maine, but had little to offer other than that.

  Now, here they were in the fire station, with family number two parked across the street. In the open.

  Wide open.

  “Oh my God,” Roper said, looking out the fire station windows. “Those people will be dead in under a week.” Grabbing her rifle, she headed for the back door.

  “Roper—”

  “Just cover the door, Dallas. I’ll be right back.” Running across the street, Roper banged on the door of the camper.

  The mother answered. She was a tiny woman with a weak voice and timid mannerisms. “Yes?”

  “You guys are like a billboard screaming ‘fresh meat here.’ You need to hide your camper.”

  The husband appeared at the door along with his chubby son. “So far, we haven’t had a problem parking on the side roads.”

  Roper shook her head. “Sir, I’m sure you want to do what’s right for your family, but—”

  “Jesus, our Lord and Savior, has protected us this far. We are resting in the safe bosom of Christ Jesus.”

  Rolling her eyes, Roper stepped away from the door. “Jesus can’t help you, sir, but my advice might.”

  “We are but walking through the Valley of Death, and we fear no evil because Lord Jesus is with us,” he countered.

  “Well then, I hope he can keep ya’ll from being eaten. Good luck and good night.”