America the Dead wfotd-3

by Joseph Talluto

  I said as much to Nate, who snorted. “You were right, before,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, not understanding.

  “You are better than me.” Nate grinned and put down his binoculars. “So what do we do about this little trap?”

  I shrugged. “See if it is what it seems to be. If not, we’ll help someone out.”

  We both dropped down into the RV and gathered the other two men around the table. After convincing Duncan that we really didn’t know what the blonde looked like and no, we didn’t know if she was single, we decided on a fairly straightforward plan. We would drive the RV to the damsel in distress, leaving behind a pair of men to see if it was a trap and if so, spring it on the trappers. What could go wrong?

  24

  I checked the maps again, and found there was no way to get to the woman unless we backtracked and came up Harrisburg and London Road. That was the bad news. The good news was that the overland route was just about a mile, so in the time it took for the RV to circle back and hit the road the supposed ambush was on, we would be able to scout the area and see if anyone was waiting for us.

  I volunteered myself to run the mile and Duncan decided Tommy needed to go with me. I laughed at Duncan’s transparent attempt to have as few rivals as possible should the hapless damsel be grateful for a rescue. I took out my pack and checked the supplies, making sure I had water and food. I switched out my AR mags for M1A mags, since I was bringing the heavier weapon. I preferred the. 308 when dealing with possible living adversaries, as it had a much more authoritative punch. Plus, out here in farmland, I could seriously reach out and ruin someone’s day, much more so than I could with the AR.

  Tommy got his gear together and we set out from the RV, running down the road a ways before we set out across the fields. The land was overgrown enough that we had to duck around some fairly large feral trees and scrub bushes. We came up to a forest and nearly had to find a way around when Tommy pointed to the East.

  I slapped him on the back and we ran over to the large aluminum power line tree sticking up over the forest. Working our way beneath it, we found a clear path underneath the dormant power lines. Crews used to make sure the land underneath was well maintained and in the two years since the Upheaval, the grass and weeds had grown, but they were just knee high this late spring. We moved quickly and quietly through the brush, ever on the lookout for any Z’s that might be lying in wait. Thanks to our recent encounters, we were also checking our back trail, making sure nothing was following us into the high timber.

  After about a quarter mile in the woods, I could see the interstate about one hundred yards ahead of us. I motioned Tommy into the woods and we walked as smoothly as we could through the heavy brush. More than once I had to check my compass to make sure we were headed in the right direction.

  One hundred and fifty yards into the woods led us to the back yard of a largish house. It was a simple structure, two stories, with a detached garage and gravel driveway. I gave it quick glance and Tommy just shrugged his shoulders. Maybe we could investigate further when the RV showed up, but right now, it wasn’t my main concern. I looked it over for occupancy, living or otherwise, but the building seemed like it was deserted.

  There was another house about five hundred feet away and it was in the direction we wanted to go, so Tommy and I ran over and hunkered down behind the above-ground pool in the backyard. Peeking over the brackish green water of the pool, I looked over the small house but couldn’t see if it was occupied. Behind us was another large house, but again, it wasn’t a concern. Tommy pointed to the corner and I covered him as he ran to the side of the house to get a look at the front.

  In less than a minute, he came back around and waved me forward. I moved up and happened to catch him wiping off his knife. At my curious glance, he pointed to the driveway where a large male zombie was lying face down with a stab wound in his neck. His body was no longer moving, but I could see his eyes darting around and his mouth opening and closing. The big sucker must have surprised Tommy or Tommy surprised it. Either way, it was a good silent kill and I nodded to Tommy in appreciation.

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but thanks to our conversation, I’m actually curious to see if the head eventually dies,” I whispered.

  Tommy smiled. “I was thinking the same damn thing.” He pointed to the second floor window, where a female zombie was clawing at the window too weak to break it and make a lunge for us.

  “Leave it. Let’s get to where we can see better,” I said. We moved up to a small line of trees that blocked the view of the main road. Hunkering down, I pulled out my binoculars while Tommy brought up his rifle and scanned for threats. I could see the woman and her truck and I had to say she had the necessary assets. Duncan was going to be pleased this wasn’t a wasted effort. That is, if we didn’t get killed for it.

  I pointed to the house that was about two hundred yards ahead of us, then back to the tree line we were hiding behind. Tommy nodded and bolted for the edge of the trees which took him behind the house and out of sight of the woman. If there were ambushers, they would be keeping an eye on their bait, not on the scenery.

  When Tommy reached the end of the trees, he ran directly for the house, keeping himself out of sight of the windows and doors. Once he was in place, I ran to the edge of the tree line and onto the driveway that went to the house way in the back. I moved as quickly as I could, coming to a stop in a small grove of trees. From where I was situated, I could see the front of the small house and the woman and truck on the road. I could also see the road as it crossed Interstate 71 and figured the RV was going to be along in just a few minutes.

  I waved to Tommy, who ducked back around the house. Two minutes later, he came back around the house and moved swiftly to join me in the trees. I raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head, indicating the house was empty.

  I took out my binoculars and looked over the situation. If there were ambushers, they were extremely well hidden. I didn’t see anything on the highway, nothing in the homes, nothing in the trees, nothing in the bushes on the other side of the road. If I had to guess, this was just a breakdown with someone who was too scared to move on.

  I turned my attention back to the woman and was able to see her in greater detail. She was probably in her thirties, with sharp blue eyes and attractive features. Her blonde hair was surprisingly well maintained, but she seemed ill-dressed for survival. Her clothing was tight, showing off her ample chest and long legs. Her shoes were just hiking boots and she seemed to have a belt that had a holder for what appeared to be a variety of scissors. What she planned to do with them against a zombie I couldn’t guess. Her face was lined with worry at this particular time and she kept looking back at the town as if she was hoping to see something. I wondered if she had fled something and was waiting to see if it pursued her. If so, why was she just standing there? Without an obvious ambusher, this whole setup didn’t make sense.

  I didn’t have time to contemplate it further as I could hear the RV rumbling along. I could see the woman heard it too, as she faced the sound and waited to see what it was. I noticed she hesitated before waving her flag, making sure she had an idea of what was coming. I guess in her shoes I would feel the same, considering it could have been a biker gang or something that came over that hill.

  As it was, it was a serious zombie-killing recreational vehicle, decked out in all the latest Z repellant gear. I had to admit, seeing it roll over the hill like that, it was impressive. But I had no more time to look on in wonderment and admiration, as we were here to do a job. I brought my rifle up and kept it trained on the far side of the road, while Tommy kept his gun on this side of the road. There was a house up the road to the east we hadn’t checked out, but there was nothing to be done for it.

  The big rig slowed to a stop and I could see Nate at the wheel. Even fifty yards away I could see Duncan’s stupid grin as he got close to his mystery woman and saw she was very pre
tty. Nate pulled the RV to a stop past the woman’s truck and angled it so it blocked the road. Anyone on the far side would not be able to see what was going on and any ambushers riding in from the east would be blocked as well. Pretty smart.

  Tommy and I waited until Nate got out of the RV, followed by a fairly jumpy Duncan. We started walking to the scene, keeping our weapons ready. I could hear Nate’s voice and the woman’s but couldn’t make out what they were saying until I got closer.

  “But my friend is back there and she needs help!”

  “Not my decision to make right now.”

  “Oh, God, please! You look like you two could handle the zombies, just pull that truck close to the building and let her jump down! Why won’t you help?” The woman seemed nearly hysterical.

  Nate sounded compassionate, but cynical, if that was even possible. “Like I said, it’s not up to me.”

  The woman turned to Duncan, who clearly enjoyed the attention. “Please,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “My friend needs help. I drove out here to see if there was anyone in these homes that could help and the truck broke down. She’s been with me since the beginning and I can’t just leave her.” I couldn’t see her face, but I was willing to bet she was nearly crying. I was almost convinced myself.

  Duncan nodded and the woman seemed to brighten, but slumped her shoulders when he said, “We’d love to help, but it ain’t up to us.”

  The woman took a step back and cursed. “Well, dammit! Who the hell is in charge and why aren’t they out here?”

  I stopped walking and was positioned about ten feet behind her. “Turn around,” I said as the woman jumped slightly at the sound of my voice. She spun about and stared at me, not sure where the hell I could have sprung from. I could see her quick inventory of my weapons, followed by a quick personal inventory of my physical features. What she saw was probably not comforting. A six foot-two, broad shouldered man in his thirties, wearing a vest full of ammo, a belt with a pistol and knife on it and holding a fully loaded battle rifle. A funny look flashed on her face, but it was gone before I could get a read on it.

  I introduced myself. “Name’s John Talon, these renegades are my crew. You’ve met Nate, the big guy over there and Duncan, the skinny fellow. Tommy Carter is the gent to the rear. Who might you be?”

  The blonde tossed her hair back with a shake of her head and said, “I’m Janna Thorne. Are you going to help my friend, or not?” Her tone was belligerent, which could be excused as worry for her friend.

  “We’ll see,” I said, motioning for Nate and Tommy to go back into the RV. Duncan went back with obvious reluctance and Nate had to pull him in just so he could shut the door. Tommy wandered over to the truck and was poking around in it.

  I faced Janna. “Tell me about your friend. Where is she, what’s the best route to get to her, how did you get away, etc. If I am to help and I haven’t said I would, I need as much information as possible.”

  Janna’s eyes lit up with hope at the possibility of helping her friend, a good sign that she was sincere. She spilled out her tale so quickly I was nearly lost three seconds after she started.

  In a nutshell, she was working as a hairdresser in a small town when the Upheaval hit. She was able to fight her way to her parent’s house, only to find they had been infected. Her little brother was killed by zombies when she was trying to get him out to safety and she spent the last couple of years on the move. She met her friend Gina out on the road and the two stayed together for obvious survival reasons. They got surprised by a large group of zombies and when she jumped from the roof to a dumpster, the dumpster tipped over and before she could right it, the zombies chased her away from her friend.

  “What’s with the scissors?” I asked, just out of curiosity.

  Janna smiled at me. “They work as weapons. I’m used to them and they easily penetrate zombie skulls if you know what you’re doing.”

  I had to agree. One pair of the scissors seemed to have blades over seven inches long, longer than my knife blade.

  “All right,” I said. “Climb aboard. We’ll see what we can do for your friend.” I held out an arm at the RV, which Nate had started and was waiting for us.

  “Thank you,” she said, clasping my hand with hers.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I said, taking my hand back to open the door. “Your friend is still in danger.” Janna stepped inside as Tommy came up to the door.

  “Truck really broken down?” I asked under my breath as he passed by.

  “Battery cable came off. Might be on purpose, might be on accident. Can’t tell.”

  “Keep your eyes open. I don’t trust this at all.”

  “Ditto.”

  25

  We moved slowly into town, as I told Nate to take it easy. I wanted to give the appearance of a group just looking to see if things were okay before they stopped. If we were being watched and the hairs standing up on the back of my neck told me we were, then I wanted to present as much of a humble front as possible. It was one thing to try and trap someone. It was another when the person you trapped turned into a much bigger animal than you thought..

  I felt like we had a huge target on the side of the RV and were getting closer to the order to fire. Trouble was, I had no idea who might be waiting for us. I just had the feeling. In all honesty, if it was an ambush by zombies, I would probably feel better.

  Janna and Duncan sat at the kitchen table and he tried to get more information from her. Zeus the cat came down from his perch to meet the new arrival and he was currently lounging on the table in front of Janna. She idly stroked his back while telling her tale. She had been travelling with two friends, as it turned out, but the guy she was with had been killed. She didn’t go into any more detail. I was standing by the side window, watching the town move past.

  We drove past several homes and turned onto High Street, which looked like it would take us through the center of town. We passed Harrisburg United Methodist Church and it looked worse for wear. All of the homes looked like this town had had a rough go of it, since it was so close to the interstate and all the blocked cars. When people fled their cars, where did they go? Right to Harrisburg. Who followed them? You got it.

  As we passed Sycamore Street I noticed a truck sitting in the middle of the street. It seemed wildly out of place. The truck was of a military style, with a high cab and bias-ply tires. The back was canvas covered and it was just sitting there. It seemed to be a vehicle capable of hauling a lot of stuff over heavy terrain, so why anyone would leave it seemed odd to me.

  “Nate,” I called up front. “Stop here. I want to take a look at something.”

  “You got it.”

  The RV slowed to a stop and Tommy immediately went to the ladder to the roof. Duncan reluctantly broke away from Janna and picked up his rifle. Nate stayed at the wheel, ready to gun it and get us out of there if need be.

  I went over to the door and waited and in a few seconds, Tommy thumped the roof to let me know it was clear to go out. As I went, I heard Janna talking to Duncan.

  “You guys act like you’ve done this before…”

  I didn’t hear the rest as I was outside and moving around the front of the vehicle. The sun was brighter and I was wishing I had brought my sunglasses with. I moved down the center of the road, careful to make as little noise as possible. From experience, I knew that zombies might be waiting in ambush, but they would have to cross some open ground to get to me. I knew my back was being watched by Tommy and unless he was way off his game, the first shot I would hear would be his taking out a Z.

  I moved over to the truck and pulled myself up to the cab. I didn’t see anyone in it and a quick look through the canvas showed some supplies, but no clues as to why such a truck was here. Strange.

  I was about to jump down when a map caught my eye. It was tucked into the small storage area that ran the length of the dashboard. I took it out and opened it, figuring to see just another map of Ohio. What I didn’t expect
was to see three areas circled. One was Harrisburg, which made a certain amount of sense. The other was a small forest preserve southwest of here and the last was a larger forest preserve called Stroud’s Run State Park. There was a red question mark over the area we had stayed the other night and Route 50 was heavily penciled over. There were cross marks on several towns and some were boxed in. It made no sense at all.

  I left the map and walked back to the RV, shaking my head at Tommy and Nate. As I reached the center of the road, a shot rang out from in front of me. At first I thought it was Tommy, but then in the next second I realized it couldn’t be Tommy because I had been shot! The round slammed into the left side of my abdomen and there was a popping sound as the bullet hit me. Something hit my head and I stumbled backwards, dropping my rifle, and coming to a stop near the truck. My gut hurt like hell and I immediately tried to press both hands to stop whatever bleeding there might be. My head hurt and I could feel blood pouring down my face.

  I heard several more shots being fired and the sound of the RV roaring to life. The last sound I heard was Tommy screaming my name as the RV pulled away. After that I didn’t hear anything.

  26

  I opened my eyes to what I thought was some time later and stared at the weird scene in front of me. There was a long metal bar right above my face and another at a cross section. If this was the afterlife, it was already a disappointment. My head cleared a bit and I began to realize what had happened. Somebody had shot me and I was under the truck I had been investigating. I reached down to where my wound was and poked around a bit. My vest was frayed and there was a lot of busted metal that pricked my probing fingers. My side hurt like hell, but it didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would. I had heard that getting shot in the gut was as bad as it could be and doomed the recipient to an agonizing death. If this was agonizing pain, I was tougher than I thought I was. I explored my head wound and found a gash near my hairline. My face was crusted with drying blood, so I was sure I looked a fright.