Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus | Books 4-6 | Jessie+Scarlet

by Simpson, David A.

  Eustice was on top of the gathered army of black uniformed men before they realized what had just happened. Dani opened up with the chain guns mounted on either wing and raked along the convoy that was neatly lined up on the road. The people tried to run and scream but a blanket of diesel flames covered them and they died sucking in lungfulls of fire. Eustice flew all the way down the line and didn’t stop spraying until the last truck was engulfed. Exploding gas tanks sent debris flying and he pulled up to circle overhead, looking for survivors like a vengeful eagle. His napalm formula wasn’t quite as good as what he’d seen over in the Nam but it did the job. It killed everything in its path.

  “There.” Dani said and pointed out some black-clad figures darting through the scrub, trying to make it to the cover of a stand of trees by a creek.

  Eustice didn’t see them but went into a dive where the kid had pointed. His old eyes weren’t what they used to be but once they were down below three thousand feet, he spotted them.

  “Fire at will, Lieutenant. I’ll get us in close.”

  Dani took aim through the home-made sights and rested his finger on the trigger. It was a flight stick from a video game Carl had helped him rewire. He waited until they were coming up behind them at two hundred feet and eighty miles an hour before he applied the pressure. The twin Gatling guns cycled to life and spit lead that found their targets almost instantly. Two of the bodies exploded into pieces, churned to meat and mist by dozens of rounds blowing through them. The other figure cut hard to the right, faster than anything they’d ever seen and was gone by the time Eustice circled back around.

  He buzzed the tree line one more time but they’d never find a lone survivor from the air. The battle was over. One man wasn’t going to change that and they flew back over the burning caravan, watching for movement. They were either all dead or smart enough to play dead.

  “We used about half our payload, we’ve got almost four hundred gallons left. Enough for one more fight.” Dani said, flipping the gun safeties and checking the gauges on the tanks that were normally used to put fires out, not start them. “Anselmo evacuated but the Island is still in the fight. Going there next?”

  “Next stop.” Eustice agreed and banked off towards North Dakota. “Right after we refuel at that airport we cleared up near Valentine.”

  116

  Mount Rushmore

  “There.” Scarlet said, pointing to a long, dirt drive that branched off of the unpaved road they were on.

  He’d learned not to question her house selection, she had an uncanny knack of picking ones that were empty of the undead and usually perfectly fine, if a little musty. The driveway had a little shed at the end, a shelter for school kids to get out of the weather while waiting for the bus. Two bicycles were laying in the weeds next to it. Crop lands were growing wild on both sides of the drive and there was a tractor near the barn. She was good at reading little clues like that. To her it meant a farm family with school age kids. They had already caught the bus when the virus came through. The bikes were still there and the gate was open. Chances were good they hadn’t eaten the infected meats for breakfast if the kids were at the bus stop. Scarlet was pretty sure they’d find the place intact, unbothered and with food in the cupboards. The open gate meant no one was there to fortify the farm, one or both of the parents had probably gone to work in town. If bugs hadn’t infested the kitchen, there was a better than average chance of finding chocolate of some kind.

  She was right, as usual.

  It had been a long day of driving and they’d hit it pretty hard, covering some seven hundred miles. By tomorrow night, they should be at the Anubis headquarters but this evening, they were celebrating along with everyone else who’d heard the news. Blackfoot had been overrun but the survivors had regained the town. The Anubis cult had been defeated, every last warrior killed and their bodies dumped over the wall. Food for the scavengers. The stars and stripes still flew.

  Tombstone had completely annihilated the cult’s armies, both living and dead. The Island had managed to hold off the swarms of undead until Eustice strafed them with homemade napalm then eliminated the black clad warriors with bullets and fire. The Cult only had one battle plan and it hadn’t taken into consideration death from above. They were a one trick army and their defeat was so decisive and swift, they didn’t have time to regroup or rethink strategies.

  Jessie and Scarlet had a routine to clear a house and set up security and with Bob’s help, they had never been surprised or caught off guard. They unpacked what they needed before it got too dark to see and by the time the moon was up and the stars were out, they were lying on a blanket, enjoying the immensity of the South Dakota sky. She’d found a cookbook that featured recipes made from dry storage goods and she’d whipped up a mean canned chicken lasagna while Jessie dug through the garden and found fresh onions and carrots. They had the radio on low, Bastille was fielding ham radio calls from all around the States from the different settlements and there was a feeling of euphoria in the air. A sense that everything was going to be all right. They had air superiority, they’d whooped the snot out of the weirdos from up north and Casey was next on the list. The undead threat wasn’t near as bad as it used to be and even though winter was coming, the settlements were prepared. There wouldn’t be mass starvation or survivors freezing to death, trapped by the zombies.

  Scarlet pointed out different constellations and told Jessie the ancient myths of the ones she knew.

  Andromeda chained to the rock then rescued by Perseus.

  Taurus the bull who was the father of the Minotaur.

  Orion the hunter who was killed by his lover with an arrow.

  They lay head to head on the blankets with their feet in opposite directions. Nefertiti was purring on her stomach, Bob gnawed on a rawhide bone beside Jessie and they shared time together. A precious thing. Bastille finally wound up his talk show, put on a playlist and music played softly from the speakers. They were both bone tired and drifted off in the late summer evening, cheek to cheek with their animals snuggled in close.

  Jessie heard it and deep in his subconscious something jerked him awake. He lay still, alert and listening. The moon had moved across the sky, hours had passed and his senses were on high alert. Something had awoken him. Scarlet still breathed evenly beside him, Bob was still snoring lightly and Nefertiti was gone. Either sleeping in the car or hunting something. He heard it again, faint and broken, and relaxed a little. The music was playing quietly but the ham was on. Somebody was talking on it, that was all. He ought to get up and turn everything off, quit wasting battery power, but he was warm and comfortable with the Mexican blankets pulled over them. He heard it again and sat up, careful not to wake her and scratched Bob behind the ears when he alerted to the movement.

  “Shhh.” he whispered. “It’s alright, boy. Just late-night chatter.”

  Jessie plopped down in the passenger seat, yawned and reached over to turn the radio off. The voice came through again, mostly static, far away and it sounded panicked. Full of fear. He cocked his head, adjusted the squelch and gain on the radio then waited for the call to come again. He was already starting to doubt what he’d heard, he’d probably imagined it. He rubbed idly at his scar, the long gash on his face that still itched from time to time then heard it again.

  “Can anyone hear? Answer please. We are at big heads and we are trapped. Hello? Is anyone hearing?”

  It was faint, scratchy and wavered in and out. They’d caught an atmospheric bounce with the signal and it was fading fast.

  “I can hear you.” Jessie said. “Where are you? What is your location?”

  He waited, adjusted the knobs and hiss filled the speaker.

  “Hello? Please, can anyone hear us? Can anyone…”

  The signal was lost in the noise. It faded and didn’t come back.

  “That sounded like Ting Wei.” Scarlet said and Jessie glanced up at her, saw the concern on her face.

  He hailed her a few m
ore times but she didn’t answer. An operator from the Island heard Jessie’s repeated calls and jumped in after his third attempt to raise the wavering voice.

  “I’ve been monitoring.” he said. “I haven’t heard anyone except you. The radio’s been quiet most of the night.”

  “Roger, thanks.” Jessie said and turned to Scarlet. “You sure, that was her?”

  “I am thinking yes.” She said. “It sounded like her. Did she say she was at the heads? Wasn’t that where Charlie Safari was going?”

  “Yeah, it was.” Jessie said. “Mount Rushmore. That’s only a few hours south of here, we’ve gotta go.”

  It only took them a few minutes to gather up the blankets and grab a few things out of the house. Nefertiti came on the run with a mouse in her jaws when she heard the car fire up and they were rolling out of the gate a minute after that, grabbing gears and racing time.

  The few hours sleep and the cold-water splash bath from the well had done them good. They were young, full of life and vitality and were blasting down the long, straight farm roads of the Dakotas with the music blasting. Sometimes it would be fifteen or twenty miles before they came to a curve or turn where he had to tap the brakes. Once the sun crested over the eastern horizon, Jessie let the big engine breathe and wound it up to one twenty. The tires sang as they ate up the miles, chasing the asphalt as it split the green fields gone wild. The music was cranked and for once, Scarlet let it play. The heavy metal drove them both and she only turned it down every once in a while, to try the two-way again. Try to pick up a transmission. Neither had much hope of hearing anything during the day. They had barely picked up the signal at night when everything was clearer without the solar interference. From the weak and tinny sound of her voice, Jessie guessed the battery was just about dead or something was wrong with the antenna.

  There was only a single road leading back to the carvings on the mountain face and he flew down 244 well above the posted thirty-five mile an hour speed limit. There was no use in trying stealth unless they wanted to walk for miles. The growl of the Cobra Jet engine carried a long way in the silence of the new world.

  Scarlett unpinned the M-60 from the exoskeleton roll cage and pulled it around. If Casey’s raiders or the black clad Anubis warriors were there, she’d light them up. If it was zombies surrounding the buildings, they would lead them away. She charged the handle as Jessie roared around the last curve, ignored the road and flew up the incline, running down scrub trees and parting the waist high grass. The oversized shocks bounced them smoothly over the curb into the parking lot as they scanned for targets. For men scrambling to aim guns. For undead hordes turning to face the new sounds. For anything that was a threat.

  They saw nothing.

  Jessie kept the speed up, dodged around the busses and RV’s in the overflow lot and made a beeline for the walkway leading into the park and amphitheater. Charlie Safari’s armored crew cab was parked in front of the main entrance, the doors were closed and it didn’t appear to have any fresh bullet holes. The glass was intact and the tires weren’t flat. Jessie slowed, idled past it, circled around the entire lot and they craned their necks trying to spot snipers or other wasteland vehicles.

  The place was dead. Nothing moved. There were corpses, ancient gnawed on and mostly eaten corpses, strewn here and there in the parking lot but not many. Not enough to account for all the cars. There were busses and RV’s also. There should have been hundreds of zeds stumbling around unless they were all inside or had already chased after a passing car. Jessie swung back around to the colonnade then shut off the engine. It pinged in the stillness as it cooled and they sat, fingers on triggers, waiting for something to happen. Someone to take a shot at them. A horde to come stumbling out of the woods.

  Nothing.

  Just the silence of pine trees rustling in the breeze. An eagle cry from far away. Slowly the sounds of nature came back and birds started singing again. A squirrel chattered at them and shook its tail. They stepped out and Bob immediately started sniffing around, alert but not alarmed.

  “Maybe we are too late.” Scarlet said and slid her batons into their holsters.

  “Maybe.” Jessie said as he peeked through the windows of the truck. He didn’t dare open the doors, retrievers usually had booby traps on their rigs. Nobody was going to steal them, they’d rather have them blown to bits, especially if the guy doing the stealing had managed to kill them. A little bit of payback.

  Everything looked normal to him. There hadn’t been a fight, he didn’t see any brass casings laying around. They had to be inside.

  Jessie geared up, slid into his broken-down leather jacket, let the guns find their place low on his hips then flipped the hidden kill switches on his car. He liked his old Mercury and didn’t want it blown sky high if someone stole it. With the fuel pump turned off, the engine would run for a few minutes, just long enough for someone to think they’d gotten away with taking it. Long enough for Jessie to catch up to them and counsel them on the error of their ways.

  He stared through the columns, up to the majestic faces in stone and felt a melancholy settle over him. He wondered how long they would last. As long as the pyramids? Stonehenge? Probably. They were carved from granite. Maybe in a few centuries, noses would break off but a thousand years from now, people would still visit. Would their meaning, the identity of the men on the mountain be lost to time? Would they be worshipped as Gods by ignorant tribes? In a few hundred years would all the books be gone? Lost to the elements? The electronic data they had, the internet files, were all fragile and as far as he knew, all the knowledge of the world was held in a few fragile data bases. The Tower and the NSA storage banks. Either could be lost in a fire or lightning strike or even an electrical surge. Then there would only be books or bits and pieces on backup discs. It was all so fragile and people like Casey would happily let it all disappear. They would dance as the world burned.

  Was it worth saving? Sometimes he wasn’t sure, sometimes he thought he might be content with a complete reset. Let man take a few thousand years to develop tech again. In a generation, maybe two, most knowledge would be gone. Only the most important things would be remembered: when to plant, how to cook and clean game, basic carpentry and natural medicines. Nobody knew how to make plastic or high cholesterol pills. The survivors were living off the carcass of the old world and most of those things would be gone in a few years. Used up or ruined. They might have a book that told them how to make electricity from a turbine but who made the turbine? How did they make aluminum? How did they make a circuit board? Sometimes the hugeness of it all pressed down on his shoulders and the only thing that kept him going was Scarlet.

  His eyes held sadness, he was already bracing himself for what they’d find and what he’d have to do.

  He was dreading the trip inside the park, down the long sidewalk to the stores and the offices. He was afraid he’d find Charlie and his bride wandering around in the amphitheater or trapped inside a gift shop, clawing at the doors, unable to figure out how to leave. He stared down the walkway, at the avenue of flags and the faded banners from each of the States. They hung listlessly in the early morning air, occasionally stirring from a breeze, but washed out and torn. Symbols of a bygone era.

  He wondered if the new territories would keep the old state boundaries or if it would even matter. It would be a few hundred years before there were enough people to fight over land again. He sighed heavily. There weren’t enough good people left in the world and he was afraid a few more were gone like so many before them.

  Scarlet ran a hand through his hair, pushed it away from his troubled brow and rested her palm against his cheek. She saw the darkness in him and wanted to kiss it away as she stared up into his eyes. Emerald green and cobalt blue that understood each other. There was powerful sadness in this place. It was a monumental graveyard overlooking a nation. Solemn faces on the mountain stared down at the ruins as they would for millennia to come.

  Jessie kissed her
palm and smiled his half smile. She held his gaze with her darkening eye and he saw only fathomless affection, felt her adoration and worshipped her right back. Agape love in its purest form. Unmerited, gracious and rich in mercy. Unnatural and unusual like both of them, willing to lay down their lives or vanquish a thousand enemies. His chest felt too small for his heart. The enchantment between them was nearly palpable, you could almost see the air around them shimmer as if it too rejoiced and danced with their power. With the unfiltered love that was in their very DNA. A love more than love that would move mountains or shape worlds.

  “We find them.” she said.

  He covered her hand with his, breathed in her scent and agreed.

  “We find them.”

  117

  Mount Rushmore

  They were surprised to find all the shops empty. There had been a battle but it was from long ago. A handful of dull shell casings, long dried blood stains on the floors and walls and a few shoes were all that was left. There were more corpses, some still trying to move but chewed up so badly they could hardly worm their way around. There were a lot of gnawed on bones lying around and they found a few heads, mostly intact, trying to bite at them.

  “Weird.” Jessie said and used a gift shop t-shirt to pick up a leg bone that had been mostly picked clean.

  Bob sniffed around with a low, menacing growl coming from deep in his chest. He didn’t like it either.