by JT Sawyer
“Just when we unravel one thread in this web, two more get spliced into the equation.”
“Now if we could just get to the weavers of the web and frag their asses, I’d be a happy man.”
Chapter 5
Travis and the group spent the remainder of the day in Monument Valley resting, mending clothing, and cleaning weapons. With the sheep jerky finished later in the afternoon, they packed up the crisp meat and feasted on the organ soup and blood sausage that Benito had brewed up on the campfire. As dusk faded into darkness, the moon rose over the numerous mesas and buttes, shading the landscape a blue-gray color. Travis gathered everyone up for one last briefing before they departed.
“Benito told me where to find the tourist bus in the town of Mexican Hat, so that will be our first stop. It’s about eleven miles from here and a settlement that is largely intact according to him. Most of the 60 residents were wiped out early after the infected tourists arrived. If the bus is operational, we will head north towards Bluff and cut east after that, depending on how much fuel the rig has.”
“How far is it from Mexican Hat to Durango?” said Becka, who was kneeling in the sand alongside the others.
“Should be about a hundred-twenty miles,” replied Pete.
“Cool, we’ll just roll in around sunrise and grab breakfast at a local diner,” said Rob, who was repacking his medical kit. “I’m sure the zombies have left Durango unmolested.”
“So, you’re a glass-half-empty kinda guy, I get it,” said Travis. “I didn’t say this battle was over but this leg of the journey finally has an end in sight.”
“An ending is right,” Rob smirked. “I’ve had my share of dealing with RAMs, first in Phoenix, then Jerome and Flagstaff. Now here we go again—same story, different scenery.”
“We’re all fried from fighting so why don’t you just can it,” said Katy. “Focus on the next 24 hours.”
“Don’t talk to me about focus. I was a combat medic and I’ve been in more knee-deep shit than you’ll ever know, princess.”
“Why, you son of a…” Katy was cut short as Travis moved up. “Enough bickering. This isn’t putting miles under our boots. Grab your gear and be ready to move out in twenty minutes,” he said, casting a disparaging look at Rob. “I’m going to pay my respects to Benito and finish filling my water bottles at the spring. Do a final sweep of the area and hogan to make sure you have all your gear.”
****
Five hours later, they arrived without incident at the ridgeline above the tiny town of Mexican Hat, which was nestled above the San Juan River. The cool temperature meant they wouldn’t expend as much sweat as they would hiking during daylight hours, and the level terrain made for easy passage. The moonlight was so bright it cast faint shadows over the nearby buttes. Travis scanned the sinewy valley below. The slickrock was illuminated and the rock spires around him resembled earthen figures stretching skyward.
Benito had mentioned to Travis that the tour bus was parked over by the first hotel across the river. The older man had surmised that it was possible that the bus would still be functional, as no one had ventured near that town since the outbreak of undead. It was a gamble Travis was willing to take if it meant trimming off time and distance to Durango.
Travis was squatting next to Dane while the rest of the group was taking a break a hundred yards below to their rear. Both men surveyed the homes and hotels in town, a half mile away. The river looked like a black serpent that wound its way through the string of mesas ahead. “I’d like to stay off that main highway until we get to the bridge, otherwise we’ll be too exposed. A parallel route, off to the east, will provide us with cover by those mesas and should make for trouble-free walking on the sandstone,” said Travis.
“I agree,” Dane said, pulling the collar of his fleece jacket up around his neck. “This is the thing about the desert that always gets me—the cold. It felt like eighty degrees earlier in the afternoon when I was wearing just a t-shirt and now it’s creeping down around freezing.”
“Yep, it’s a land of extremes, isn’t it? I remember once being on a trip where it was 113 during the day and then 34 at night,” Travis said. “I’ve dealt with hypothermia issues more than I care to admit and I’ll take the heat any day.” He paused, pointing to a two-story hotel just west of the bridge.
“I see it,” said Dane, staring at the distant tour bus, whose white exterior was glinting in the moonlight.
“That’s our ticket to the north—I hope,” said Travis. “It’ll sure make our lives easier—and I’m all about easy these days.” Travis glanced down to the rest of the group. He could make out Rob, who was by himself relacing a boot. “Did you notice that that guy hadn’t said more than two words during our trek from the Blackhawk until he mouthed off earlier?”
“Yeah, he’s a quiet one for sure. I’ve tried engaging him a few times and I usually get one-word answers. Some people are just constipated between their ears.”
“Hard to believe he used to be a medic. You’d think he’d have some fucking social skills.” Travis was running a hand over the thick beard hairs on his chin. “Tell the others to be ready to move out in ten minutes. I want to take advantage of the remaining moonlight for navigating.”
It was almost eleven o’clock and they would have plenty of time to get through the exposed area ahead. Once they got down to the San Juan River, they would have more cover in the side canyons and cottonwood groves before reaching Mexican Hat.
Katy was already on her way up and passed Dane, who was descending the slickrock incline. She plunked her pack down and squatted beside Travis. “How are our vacation plans sizing up for tonight?”
“Oh, I thought I’d take you on a moonlit stroll, kill some RAMs, and whisk you away on a white bus.”
“Wow, you sure know the way to my heart. Clearly you know how to woo a woman.”
“Yeah, well, if we ever get a chance to be away from all of this, then maybe I can show you another side of myself that doesn’t involve shooting and mission planning.”
“I’ve gotten glimpses already but find it hard, at times, to believe that you can fully unwind from being such a tightly coiled spring.”
“Hey, I can unwind just fine with a bottle of Captain Morgan and a fine cigar—and the right company,” he said, pulling her forward.
She fell slightly forward on top of his chest, holding back a giggle. “Travis, everyone will see us.”
They both looked down below, where the group was still packing.
“See, everything is still flowing smoothly—no breakdown in discipline,” he said, moving his lips up to hers while inhaling the aroma of her hair as it brushed across his face. He ran his hands along her neck, pulling her closer while grabbing her waist.
“I love your kisses, Travis, but I can’t go from land navigation to romance like you can. I’m tense right now.”
Pete was walking up the hill as Katy stood and grabbed her pack. “I think we’re all set to head out, boss.”
Travis rose, shouldering his AK. “Alrighty,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s go whack some Euro-zombies.” He sauntered down to their rest spot and grabbed his backpack and MK12 sniper rifle, then walked back up the ridgeline.
As everyone gathered around, he motioned them closer so he wouldn’t have to shout. “The bus we’re looking for is about a half mile in the distance across the river. If we can get that thing running, we can head to Durango and this trek will all be over.”
In a few minutes the entire group was headed over the ridgeline and down into the valley of sand and scattered boulders. Travis was in the lead with Nora and Rachel behind him. Pete and Karl were next, followed by Katy and Becka, who were walking alongside each other. Rob followed in the rear, with Dane being the last man, toting a large ammo can.
Chapter 6
The dunes underfoot made for slow walking. Under the moonlight the fine sand rose up like crystalline apparitions around their boots as they marched across the open valley
. Travis led them over to a low outcropping of boulders near the base of the tawny mesa. After fifteen minutes, they came to a massive slab of sandstone that had sheared off from the mesa. He motioned to the group to halt and squatted on one knee to survey the area ahead where he and Dane had seen the bus.
Travis could see a dilapidated restaurant near the two-story stone hotel, with a broken metal sign dangling between two telephone poles. The parking area was littered with several dust-covered cars and the tour bus, which had the logo Southwest Adventures on its white metal skin.
Pete came up alongside and rested his hand on Travis’s shoulder. “I used to stop at this place after river trips. That restaurant had some killer hamburgers,” Pete said. “This joint and the other two hotels down the road used to cater to patrons on San Juan River trips as well as all the foreign tourists traveling through here on their way to Moab.”
Travis inhaled the crisp night air. “I don’t smell any burgers but, more importantly, I don’t detect any RAMs. There ain’t much of a wind tonight, though.”
Travis motioned to the rest of the group to move up to his position and then he whispered his plan. “Karl, I want you to come with me and my team and inspect the bus. While you are looking it over, myself and a few others will check out the restaurant. This place might have some supplies we can use.”
“Or it could have an army of starving RAMs,” said Rob.
“Do you see another way across the river?” Pete said. “There’s only the bridge and it goes right by the hotel. There is no bypassing this place.”
“Pete’s right—there’s only one approach,” said Travis. “I’ll take Katy, Rachel, Karl, and Pete with me to investigate. Dane, you take the rest of the group and my sniper rifle, and sweep around those low boulders to the west, across from the hotel on this side of the river,” he said, pointing in the distance. “We’ve got two handheld radios between us. Once we’re up near the entrance, I’ll squelch you three times if the place looks secure.”
“Copy that,” said Dane, handing the ammo can to Nora then removing the radio from his vest. Then he reached over for the MK12 rifle that Travis was passing off to him and did an inspection of the night scope and magazine before slinging it over his beefy shoulder.
Rob stood with his arms folded, shaking his head and sneering at Travis. “Maybe there’ll be time for an ice-cream sundae at the restaurant,” he muttered.
“What’s that?” said Dane. “You were mumbling like a baby goat.”
“Nothing. I didn’t say a thing, Brutus.”
A few minutes later Travis and his group made their way to the bridge, walking parallel to the blacktop highway until they came to the cusp of the steel support girders that were embedded in the massive canyon walls. Dane and his crew had moved two hundred yards to the west and taken up defensive positions along the rock ledge directly across the river from the two-story hotel.
As Travis arrived at the other end of the bridge with his group, he paused and scanned the parking lot, then tilted his head up, taking a deep breath, trying to pick up the ammonia-like scent of any zombies. Besides the river swishing beneath them, his brisk inhalations were the only other sound. He lowered his head and studied the layout of the building ahead. The old hotel was wedged between a massive shelf of sandstone over a hundred feet high on the right side and the San Juan River on the left. Unless we are planning on swimming, there’s only one way in and out of here, he thought. Not my favorite building-clearing scenario.
Using hand motions, he indicated to Katy and Karl that they should go to the vehicles, while Pete and Rachel followed him over to the restaurant. On the count of three, the two teams separated and dashed to their respective positions.
After trotting across the blacktop, moving past an abandoned Chevy truck and an ice machine, Travis squatted next to an empty newspaper box. Once more, he worked the night air with an upturned nose, then scanned past the broken glass of the entrance. He could hear a cricket chirping from underneath the front counter, where a dusty cash register sat alongside a toothpick dispenser. A neat stack of menus and rows of coffee cups lined the shelf behind the counter. Looks like this place just closed for business yesterday. Everything is still so organized. Whatever horrors unfolded here must have happened without warning.
Travis motioned to Pete to provide cover support and then he burst through the entrance, sweeping from the right as Rachel crept in behind him and focused on the left of the restaurant. The sound of crunching glass under their boots halted the cricket’s chirping and the room was shrouded in silence. The red vinyl of the booths reflected off the moonlight and a pile of faded magazines briefly flapped from his swift passage.
Travis pointed to the kitchen ahead and then back at Rachel, motioning for her to follow. They flowed along the floor, clinging to the counter as they made their way to the grill and refrigerator while Pete kept watch near the lobby.
As Travis entered the small kitchen, he could see a rack of pots and frying pans hanging from a circular metal rack above the grill. The silverware holders against the wall were all intact and a dishwashing rack held a neat row of orange plates adorned with green cacti images.
Travis lowered his rifle and looked back at Rachel, who was equally surprised at the pristine appearance of the place. “How come everything looks so good here?” she whispered.
“The Navajos wouldn’t have come near this place with all the bodies. They have a lot of taboos about the dead. The locals here must all have been wiped out as soon as that tour bus arrived,” he said, running his eyes over the shelves by the sink. “At first glance, it almost seems like this town escaped the wrath of the virus…almost.”
He grabbed the radio on his vest and squelched it three times to notify Dane that they were fine. Then he grabbed some packets of instant coffee and sugar from a cardboard dispenser. “Damn, what a treasure,” he said, stuffing the contents into his pants pocket. Peering out the window, he could see Karl moving around the interior of the bus.
“You and the others stay here and rummage up what grub you can find. I’m gonna go find out what the status is on the bus.”
“Copy that,” said Rachel.
Travis moved past Pete in the lobby and quietly walked over the glass shards by the front door. As he exited, a familiar acrid odor pierced his nostrils immediately. The hair on his neck bristled and he swiftly raised his AK while studying the shadows of the hotel grounds and the rocky ledges above. He dashed towards the front of the bus and past Katy, who was squatting down by the front tires with her weapon in a low-ready position. “You smelled it too?” she said. “I think we’re about to have some Parisian visitors.”
Travis nodded and then leaned in past the double doors of the bus. “Is this vehicle operational? We gotta go—there are RAMs in the area.”
Karl yanked his head out from under the dashboard. “Everything looks good and there’s a half tank of gas left. I won’t know if it’ll run until I fire it up though, and that’s going to be a mighty loud beacon blaring off these canyon walls.”
“We’ll have to risk it. If this doesn’t work and those things move in on our location, we’re going to have to fall back to the restaurant.”
“Just say when,” Karl said, holding up the keys in his brawny hands.
Before Travis could reply he heard the sound of movement coming over the cliff walls above the hotel. He swung a glance up at the jagged edge of the rock face, which was illuminated in the moon, and saw several dozen creatures snorting and pawing at the air as their sights fixed on the parking lot.
“Shit, now would be a good time, I’d say,” Travis said to Karl, who inserted the key and worked the starter.
Chapter 7
As the bus groaned to start, Travis leaned back outside and saw the creatures searching for a way down the cliff. “Come on, man…we don’t have roadside assistance to get us out of this one.”
By now, Pete and Rachel had moved out of the restaurant and assembled with Katy in
a v-shaped formation around the front of the bus. Another second later, the engine choked and roared to life as a thick cloud of black smoke sputtered from the muffler. The smell of fuel and oil momentarily overpowered the pungent odor of the undead filling the night air.
“Everyone inside,” motioned Travis. He could see the creatures moving frantically towards an old rockslide of boulders near the back of the hotel that connected the ridge with the parking lot.
Travis yanked the two-way radio from his vest pocket. “Dane, we’ve got dozens of RAMs heading down a slope at the rear. You’re gonna have to hop on the bus at the bridge, so run like hell.”
“Copy that, on our way,” said Dane.
As Karl strained to maneuver the immense bus in the narrow confines of the parking lot, Travis ran to the back of the vehicle and could see around twenty creatures clamoring over the rocks like frantic baboons descending from their cliff-side perches. “Look at this,” he said to the others, pointing at the tangled mass of undead. “Look at how fast those fucking things are moving.”
The first creatures to make it to the parking lot began bounding on all fours, closing the distance quickly. Travis swung open the emergency exit door and began shooting, dropping two zombies with headshots but missing a third as the bus swayed from Karl’s maneuvers. “Somebody steady me,” Travis said as he rocked back and forth under the strain of movement. Pete grabbed Travis’s belt and secured him from a seated position beside him. While the bus sped forward Travis shot another creature with a shriveled face like a burnt walnut. Then he saw twenty more zombies bolt past the carcass as it collapsed. “Shit, these things move as fast as we do.”
As he fixed his sights on the head of another creature, he heard a thud on top of the bus like a rock had fallen from above. “They’re jumping off the cliffs,” shouted Rachel, who was staring with wild eyes at the ridgeline above.