“Oh, shit. I know what that is,” McElroy said.
“Yeah, so do I,” Smith rumbled. His steely gray eyes scanned each side of the road with a slow turn of his head. “The undead are coming along the road in big numbers from each direction.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Where are they coming from?” Wingate squawked.
“It’s that herd that followed us from the airport to the right and the crowd that followed us from La Bahia Soleado are catching us up from the left,” McElroy said, crossing his arms and pointing in each direction the road led.
“All right, so what do we do now?” Wingate asked, flapping her arms by her sides.
“We could always blow them away from each direction with the SMAWs,” Smith suggested. “Two guys on each side of the bus blatting away north and south will soon wipe out their numbers.”
“I hear you, Smith and it’s a good plan but not the best strategy in the world,” McElroy said. “We fire a whole load of those SMAWs into the road, it’s going to chew up an already bad surface. We’ll have no way of ever getting back to the airport and getting the rest of those crates. I think we’re going to have to make other plans, so we are.”
“Like what, Mac?” Wingate bawled. “We better come up with an exit strategy very fucking quickly.”
I glanced at the forest to our right and felt it was time to have an input before everybody lost it and ended up in a yelling match, ultimately wasting valuable time.
“What about making a break for those trees?” I suggested, nodding into the distance. “We can hide out for a while until the two groups of zombies meet up then we could circle around them and head back to La Bahia Soleado.”
Smith and McElroy glanced at each other and then studied the forest to the right. They didn’t have to say anything but exchanged a brief nod. They were onboard. I didn’t know if it was the best plan in the world and whether it would work out but it was better than staying put where we were.
“All right,” Smith said. “It sounds feasible. We’re not left with a shit load of other options right now.”
“Right then, guys, let’s head for the trees,” McElroy said, nodding towards the far side of the dusty ground. “May God grant us free passage.” He crossed himself with his fingers in a religious act I’d never seen him perform before. Maybe he was worried, and maybe he was right to be worried.
Smith closed the bus doors but had no way of locking up the vehicle. We were just going to leave the rocket launchers where they were and hope nobody discovered them.
McElroy led the way, skirting around the side of the bus and crossing the sandy road. I glanced left and right and saw the heavy dust cloud approaching in each direction. We climbed the dry mud bank on the opposite side of the road and trudged across the weed strewn, uneven ground, heading towards the forest in the distance.
I turned around every twenty paces or so, checking on the progress of the dust clouds, threatening to collide with each other. My hope was we’d be out of sight by the time the two groups of undead reached the bus and the dust clouds would also provide us with some cover. I knew it would take only one ghoul to spot us and give chase, slow as it may be but the rest of the zombie crowd would follow.
The sun beat down relentlessly and the humidity didn’t let up. We swigged water as we walked, trying to maintain a swift pace while keeping hydrated. The hike across the open ground seemed to take forever and I felt vulnerable crossing such a large, open space with no form of cover whatsoever.
I took a look back over my shoulder when we reached the shadow cast by the tall trees at the edge of the forest. The two dust clouds had amalgamated into one large, sandy blur swirling at around twenty feet in the air. I couldn’t see the road or the bus any longer.
McElroy and Smith tugged their rifles from around their shoulders and held them low and pointed to the ground. Wingate and I followed their lead, readying our rifles. Dante hustled closer, walking around two feet behind Wingate and me. Our pace slowed as we drew nearer to the tree line.
Smith crept forward and crouched, leaning against a thick tree trunk. McElroy took up a similar stance, hunkering down in a squat beside a tree around ten feet square of Smith’s position. They both scanned the near ground inside the forest, trailing their rifle sights in sweeping arcs.
Broken branches and loose twigs poked through a carpet of brown and red fallen leaves beneath the overhead canopy of foliage. Smith turned his head and gave us a nod, indicating the forest was clear of hostiles as far as he could see. McElroy and Smith both stood and led the way, treading cautiously into the forest. Wingate, Dante and I followed, threading our way through the thick trees. The dead leaves rolled in clumps beneath our feet and the air was cooler beneath the shadowy cover of the trees. We moved further into the forest, the sun and sky were only slightly visible through the spiky leaves amongst the treetops. The hard baked muddy field we’d walked across disappeared from view.
“Let’s rest up for five minutes,” McElroy suggested.
We murmured in agreement and stopped walking, slumping down amongst the dead leaves in a slight clearing. We sat in a close circle facing each other. I reached for my pack of smokes and offered them around. Nobody spoke for a few minutes while we smoked and took a short-lived breather.
“So you figure we’re around five miles from the port, Mac?” Wingate asked.
McElroy shrugged and nodded his head. “Give or take, around that, aye.”
Wingate rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. “Jeez, that’s a long haul across this terrain in this humidity.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Nearly one p.m. The sun is at its hottest around now.”
“We’ll have to just grin like daft imps and bear the weather, Sarah,” McElroy said. “We have to get back to the boat in La Bahia Soleado before nightfall or we’re in real trouble. I don’t want to be stuck out here after dark.”
“Me either,” I chipped in, nodding in agreement.
“So, what do we do?” Wingate asked. “Wait it out right here or try and circle around the zombie army through the trees?”
“I don’t see no advantage of sitting tight,” Smith said. “Sooner or later the clusterfuck of dead goons is going to break up and head off in all directions. One of those directions is going to be this way and it just depends how many are in that posse. If we stay right here we’re asking for a whole heap of damn trouble.”
McElroy nodded. “Aye, I’ll agree with you there, big man. We don’t want to be caught out in the wind with our baggies around our ankles, so we don’t.” He exhaled smoke and stubbed the cigarette butt out on the sole of his boot. “Catch your breath everybody and we’ll get going as soon as possible.”
Smith, Dante and I finished our cigarettes and crushed them out against the nearest tree trunk. Wingate was already on her feet, rifle strapped across her shoulder and swinging her arms. The rest of us hauled ourselves upright, break period over. My back and legs ached uncomfortably when I stood. Why did I put myself through these situations?
“We’ll move through the tree line but try to keep on a straight course as we can,” McElroy said, pointing the way. “We don’t want to venture too far into the forest and get disorientated.”
“Keep the sun to our left,” Smith said. “It’s arced over our position so it’ll be setting to the left of us.” He pointed upwards to the top of the trees and waved his finger sideways in the direction of the baked mud ground.
We set off at a slow walking pace with McElroy leading the way and heading south through the trees. The forest seemed depressing and gloomy. The rustling sounds of small animals and birds fluttering through the trees caused us to turn in different directions.
I had the uneasy feeling we were being watched by something more than the creatures of the forest. That unwelcome, familiar sense of foreboding rose within me once again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I tried to gulp away mouthfuls of saliva and took another few swigs of water from
my bottle. The shitty taste of grit and dust just wouldn’t leave my mouth. Something moved around twenty yards to my right and vanished behind a thick tree trunk. I stopped walking, staring in the general direction where I’d seen the movement and tried to process what the hell I’d seen.
“What’s up, Wilde Man?” Smith asked in a hushed tone.
I shook my head. Perhaps I was dehydrated and starting to hallucinate. I pointed to the tree in the distance. “I’m sure I just saw somebody moving down that way and jump behind that big tree way down there,” I whispered.
Smith stopped beside me and studied the area I’d indicated. Wingate and Dante ceased moving and glanced over with concerned expressions on their faces. McElroy turned his head and saw us standing in a stationary huddle.
“What’s up, fellers?” he asked.
Smith didn’t divert his eyes away from the tree in the distance but waved McElroy towards us. McElroy turned and trudged back to join us then stood next to Smith behind me. We stood staring into the forest and listening in silence.
A woodpecker chopped busily amongst the trees somewhere overhead and the thick foliage rustled in a sudden breeze.
Sweat rolled down my face. I felt Dante’s hot breath on the back of my neck. My guts churned over. I could feel the tension elevate within our group. I wasn’t imagining things; I knew somebody was out there in the forest watching us. I felt it. My inner danger radar shot into the red zone. The undead wouldn’t try and hide, they’d come straight at us. This was something more sinister than walking corpses.
I heard a muffled, mechanical clicking sound from somewhere between the trees.
“Hit the dirt,” Smith yelled and proceeded to push me and Wingate to the ground.
I fell face first into a pile of dead leaves and heard the rattle of incoming semi automatic gunfire. Rounds slammed into the tree trunks around us, sending shards of bark flying through the air. I lifted my head slightly and pulled my rifle off my shoulder, nudging it between my hands into a firing position. I took a second to glance around to see where everybody was. Wingate lay beside me amongst the pile of leaves, Dante crouched behind the tree trunk directly behind us, Smith and McElroy had totally vanished from sight. I was positive they hadn’t run out on us. I knew they were taking up tactical attacking positions.
Another bout of orange muzzle flash lit up the forest and more splinters rained down on Wingate and I from the nearby trees. I glanced at Wingate and she nodded to the space directly in front of us.
“They’re down there,” she whispered.
I felt like saying ‘no shit’ but kept silent.
Smith and McElroy returned fire from somewhere behind us. Their rounds zipped between the trees and some slammed into the trunks around the area where our attackers lurked.
Tense moments ticked by without any gunfire or sound of any kind. We seemed to be in the center of a stalemate situation.
A deep voice, rich with a Caribbean accent broke the silence. “We only want the murderer. We want you to hand him over so justice can be served. The rest of you can go free and go on about your business. I say again, we only want the murderer.”
My guts churned over again. I was sure whoever it was out there was talking about me.
“We have no clue who you are or what the hell you’re talking about,” Smith yelled from behind me. “You better back off or you’re going to come out of this situation in a bad way.”
“Hand over that man to us and you can go on your way,” the voice from the trees reiterated.
“Nobody is handing anybody over,” Smith replied.
Once again, I thanked my lucky stars for having this psycho alongside me. He fired another couple of rounds into the trees beyond.
“What the hell are they talking about?” McElroy whispered.
I ran my fingers over my scalp and swallowed hard. Shit! Brett Wilde the murderer. I’d been called many things in my life and not all of them pleasant. But a murderer? Oh, this was bad.
“They’re probably talking about me when I fired those rockets at the hill,” Smith said quietly. “I reckon these are part of the same gang of guys or they’re just trying to bullshit us.”
“So what do we do?” Wingate hissed. “We can’t just sit here.”
Her question was immediately answered. A large number of low moans drifted through the trees to our right. The sound of dragging leaves increased in volume.
“Shit, the undead are on the way,” McElroy spat.
“Probably attracted by the sound of gunfire and all the hollering from you guys,” Wingate said.
“We’re going to be hard pushed to fight it out on two fronts,” Smith said. “With limited ammo and an enemy we can’t see in one direction and with another attack from the undead on our flank, the only option I see is to keep inside the forest for cover and try making a break for it the way we were going originally.”
“We sure could do with a goddamn smoke grenade,” Wingate sighed.
I turned my head to the right. The thick trees still masked the ghoul’s ghostly advance but I knew they were coming and wouldn’t stop until they reached us or they were stopped in their tracks by bullets to the head. Smith was right. We had no choice but to run.
“Okay, keep low and keep moving fast,” McElroy said. “If we get split up, we’ll meet up at the edge of the forest. If we can’t do that we’ll meet up on the outer limits of the port town. Everybody agree?”
A murmur of apprehensive approval sounded around our area. I wasn’t sure if the gunmen hiding in the trees were still in position or had already fled further into the forest. It was a chance we were going to have to take.
“Right, everybody edge into position and move back here to my position,” McElroy said. “I’ll keep you covered.”
Wingate rose to a crouch and slid through the leaves somewhere behind me and to the right. Dante was already moving in the same direction when I half turned. I lifted myself off the carpet of leaves and followed Wingate’s lead. No gunfire sounded from our attackers, only the moans of the approaching undead sounded through the trees.
“Get ready to run,” McElroy whispered as I approached. “Keep going through the forest but try and stay on your feet, Wilde Man.”
I nodded. Sweat poured from my face and dripped onto my jacket. The trees acted as a windbreak and the air seemed stifling.
Smith, Wingate, Dante and I huddled behind McElroy in a single line.
“See anything out there, Mac?” Smith asked.
McElroy shook his head. “I don’t see nothing. They just vanished into the forest like wee Irish pixies.”
“Well, let’s not hang around until they come back,” Wingate said.
“I agree with you on that one, Sarah,” I whispered, trying to make myself feel a little better. The imminent danger of zombies was almost a welcome relief to being tagged as a callous murderer. I briefly wondered if I should come clean and tell the others about my misdemeanor at the riverbank the previous day.
“They could still be out there,” Smith said. “Just well hidden.”
“Do we really have a choice other than to move?” Wingate growled.
“Not really,” McElroy said. “Try and stay close, certainly within eyeshot. Let’s go.” He was gone after his last words, moving between the trees and ducking low hanging branches.
Dante followed in his wake and Smith silently ushered Wingate to move next. He glanced at me and nodded sideways. We moved off together, keeping a close eye on the black clad figures in front of us. No gunfire rattled through the trees as we half ran, half galloped like weighed down creatures. The moans from the undead echoed around the thick tree trunks and seemed to be coming from all around us.
Maybe the gunmen in the forest had seen or knew something we didn’t. Perhaps the thick foliage provided cover for gangs of roaming zombies as well as gun totting assassins. Why did I feel that we weren’t running away from danger but running straight into it?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I lost sight of McElroy up front leading our crew and Dante became increasingly difficult to spot. The dim shadow and the thick leaves spreading from low hanging branches seemed to be sucking them from my view. Wingate was up ahead and Smith had overtaken me slightly so I was the last man in the line of figures fleeing through the forest.
Smith inexplicably barged in front of me and slowed right down, letting the other three merge further into the woodland.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered.
Smith grabbed hold of my shoulder and pulled me down with him into a crouch beside a tree trunk.
“Let them go ahead,” he muttered, nodding into the distance. “Mac can take care of the other two.”
“So what the fuck are we doing?” I rasped. My sense of panic began to rise. What the hell was this maniac planning to do now?
I wiped sweat from my face and stared at Smith expecting some sort of response. The insane fucker simply gazed at the leafy ground, rubbing his thumb across the dark stubble on his chin.
“Well?” I insisted, scowling in anticipation.
“I need to figure out what angle those motherfuckers have got on us. I can’t leave it to chance.”
“What are you talking about?” I hissed.
Smith raised his finger in a gesture to silence my inquisition.
“That’s twice they’ve ambushed us now, which begs the question. Who are they and why are they following us?”
“That’s two questions, Smith,” I said, trying to be a smart ass.
“Yes, but why?” he continued. “They have to have some damn good reason to track us and accuse us of killing somebody. We haven’t seen or had any contact with these guys before so why are they beefing up to us now?”
I gulped. I had a bad feeling I’d have to confess to the awful truth. In a split second, I decided to find out what Smith had planned first.
“So, what do you want to do?” I asked.
The Left Series (Book 7): Left Amongst The Corpses Page 10