“How are you going to do that?” Tammy asked. Jake smiled.
“Hold on,” he said. “You’re about to find out. Bill, when the guys behind us run into us, open your door, and fire about six bullets at the cars behind us. I’ll spook the guys in front of us. Got it?”
“Six bullets,” Bill echoed.
Jake stomped on the accelerator, and the car raced ahead, tapped the back bumper of the truck in front of them, and stayed there. The cars behind sped up, and Jake jammed hard on the brakes, which set forth a chorus of squealing tires. Soon enough, the car directly behind them slammed into them, but not overly hard. The truck in front of them had halted as well.
Simultaneously, Bill had swung open his door as Jake did the same in the front. Bill blindly fired eight rounds from the pistol, causing men in the rain to dive away, and sparks to bounce off the hood of the car. One man howled, doubling over. At the same time, the MP-5 went off with an arc of rounds that had the three men in the cab of the truck ducking and hiding. Just as quickly, Bill and Jake were back in the car, and Jake jammed on the gas pedal again.
He screeched to a halt again as he drew up beside the truck, and he was quickly out, letting off another burst from his weapon to keep the would-be thugs in hiding. He then directed the weapon at both the left tires, and shredded them with rounds until the weapon was empty. Quickly getting back in, he shut the door and sped away.
It was a long while later, having swerved and fishtailed around the traffic jam at the rest area to make for the open road again, that Jake was sure they had not been followed. Tammy returned to the passenger seat from the floor, and Bill had his daughter on his lap as they continued down the road. The rain had slowed, but lightning still flashed, and Tammy smiled at Jake.
“Pretty cool stuff,” she said. “You some kind of Navy SEAL?”
He laughed.
“No,” he told her. “But I think Bill may have a career there.”
“Felt kind of cool,” Bill said. “You know, we were worried having a soldier along when you got in. We’ve never really been very big fans of…”
“Gotcha,” Jake said, noting that Bill had trailed off. “But I’d say we’re all just people now, huh?”
“That’s definitely right,” Bill acknowledged.
“Well maybe now we’ll be a little smarter,” Tammy added.
“I hate to think we can’t trust anyone,” Bill said. “But my god, what could have happened…”
“But it didn’t,” Jake said. “Why don’t you guys get some sleep, and I’ll make up for lost time, huh?”
Soon, as the car raced along the dark highway, the family was asleep, and Jake was thinking ahead to meeting up with the others at the small farm, which was just north of Chattanooga, in Tennessee. It had been so long since he’d seen any of them, and he knew that once they were all in one place, they would be safe. He wasn’t aware that during that time, Mick was also on the road, bound for the farm, and Jon was meeting with his friend, who had offered the use of a motorcycle to get north from Florida.
Marty and Andy were to the west of Chattanooga, and they had paused to check a map, discussing the best way to get to the old farm. Marty had a laugh as he stood watch while Andy was looking at the map. Andy looked back, and Marty still had a smile on his face, which brought his friend completely around to face him.
“You want to let me in on the joke?” Andy asked.
“You remember that time we were at the farm,” Marty said. “And we got into Anderson’s moonshine for the first time?”
Now, Andy laughed as well.
“What the hell were we?” he asked. “Fourteen?”
“About that,” Marty agreed. “He was so damned mad, but he didn’t call any of our parents.”
“Shit no,” Andy said. “Then they would have known he was making the stuff.”
“That was some good shine,” Marty sighed, and then turned as he heard a distant scuffle.
Sure enough, a trio of the horrid things were on the road, some hundred yards behind them, but moving toward the pair. Andy shook his head in disgust, but Marty stretched his neck, and motioned toward the cab of the red pickup truck. Without a word, Andy gathered the map, and both men got back into the cab of the truck, shut the doors, and locked them.
“Suppose we’ll be able to go anywhere those things aren’t?” Andy asked.
“If Cullman was any indication, I’d say as long as we stay out in the sticks, we’re ok,” Marty said. “Now, let’s get to the farm.”
Shortly, the truck was rumbling along again, taking a highway north until they had reached a county road which took them east. The road seemed to go on forever, but they were careful to roll through a small jam of cars at an intersection before turning once more to go further north, to where things were growing more familiar. Marty halted the truck, however, as they passed one farm, and he rolled the window down to look out into the moonlight.
“What is it?” Andy asked, looking over to see.
Marty had opened his door, and he got out, staring to the side of the road. Andy, confused by this, got out of his own side, and walked around the truck until he could see what Marty was staring at. His own mouth fell slightly agape, and he shook his head.
“Ain’t that Wyler’s place?” he asked.
“It was,” Marty answered. “Look at that…”
The scorched ground was a single track of what had clearly been a fairly good sized asteroid. Only a corner of the burnt house remained, and everything else was a blackened, charred flat space. Andy thought back to old man Wyler, a quiet, but friendly enough guy with a knockout of a granddaughter.
“We’re close,” he said. “We shouldn’t stop here.”
Marty nodded.
“Yeah.”
They were back in the truck, and traveled silently until they found the start of the driveway which headed up a slight hill to a farm they both knew well. Their headlights splashed across the lane as they went, ultimately spilling out to where the big, white two story house stood, as well as a shed, a big red barn, and a machine shed. They were glad to have found none of the dead milling about, and as the truck came to a halt, they studied the place carefully.
They did not have long to study, as the door opened, and a worried-looking David and Wilma Anderson emerged. David had a double barreled shotgun leveled on the truck, but lowered it as the driver’s door opened, and Marty emerged. He smiled at Anderson, who hardly recognized the man as one of the teens that had been to his farm so many times during the summers.
“David?” Marty said. “It’s me, Marty Pascom! Andy Brogan, too.”
Anderson broke into a toothy grin, completely lowering the shotgun as the plump, smiling form of Wilma hurried forward to hug Marty.
“Oh my goodness!” she said. “I would never have guessed we’d see you here! With that awful war, and what happened up in Iowa…”
“We heard,” Marty said quietly. “But we’re here now, and pretty soon, Jake, Mick, and Jon will be here, too.”
“Well, ain’t that just something,” David remarked. “Glad you boys thought of us. Dangerous times.”
“Sure are,” Andy agreed, having come around the truck. “But maybe we can all stay safe if we stay together here.”
“I’ll feel better with you boys around,” David said. “Ain’t had many of them squishy bastards come around, but if I got me some soldiers here, maybe we can keep ‘em away entirely.”
“You should see the cities,” Marty said with a slow shake of his head. “A nightmare.”
“We’ve had a few assholes come around looking to rob us blind, too,” David growled.
“David Anderson, watch your mouth,” Wilma said, turning to him.
“Now, Wilma, these boys have heard far worse if they been at war,” David told her, which brought a grin to the soldiers.
“Let’s get in, and we can catch up,” Marty suggested. Wilma nodded.
“I bet you boys are starving,” she said to them.
“You can join the others for dinner.”
“Others,” Andy said as the group started toward the house.
“Well yeah,” David said. “Clint got himself married, so they come here, and brought a friend with ‘em. Some guy named Austin.”
“Well, the more the merrier,” Marty said.
David let forth a grumble.
“If you say so,” he said, and they went in the house.
After introductions, and a nice dinner in the late night, David had gone around to make sure all the doors were locked, and the windows closed. Most of the others were in the parlor talking as he returned to take in the sight of them. David took a seat in his favorite chair- a piece of furniture that Marty and Andy were certain had existed since the dawn of time- and he lit a pipe as he regarded them all.
“How long you suppose before the others get here?” he asked. He was a heavier, older man with a beard of white and thin hair on his head. He wore a set of wire-rimmed glasses, and was almost always in a plaid shirt with overalls over it. He had long given up the hard work of farming, living on a military pension and social security, but he was a kind soul, and a friend of Jon’s father, which was how they had come to spend much time there in their youth.
“They were coming from different directions,” Marty said, as Andy had just noted that Clint’s wife seemed to be eyeing him, but looked away when his eyes locked on her.
“I suppose you didn’t all come home together,” Wilma added.
“No, Mick will probably be the closest,” Marty explained. “Coming from North Carolina, but Jake’s carrier was going to be in California. Jon’s was in Florida, so who knows how long it will take them. I just hope the roads weren’t too jammed up for-”
Headlights fell across the room, and David was up quickly.
“Maybe that’s Mick now,” he said, and headed for the door. Andy and Marty exchanged a glance, and then followed, along with Clint.
Opening the front door, they were greeted with the sight of a man and a woman, each helping to support another man as they hurried toward the house. A little girl, crying, followed them.
“Come on!” Marty said to the others, and they went to help the obviously wounded man. David approached the unharmed man.
“Everybody else okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” the man said, and looked to the woman. “Lisa, get the baby.”
She nodded, and hurried back to their truck, while the little girl had drawn close and clung to the man.
“I’m Henson,” he said. “I’ve got my wife, and my two kids with me. Wounded guy is my brother Pete.”
“Come on, then,” David said as the wife was returning with the baby. “We’ll get Pete fixed up and we’ll settle in for the night.”
They were inside the house, and Pete was in obvious agony, writhing as he was carried to a guest room and placed on a bed. They looked down at him, and then Marty looked back at Henson.
“What happened?” he asked.
“We were syphoning gas from cars to keep our truck going,” Henson answered. “One of them… one of those monsters, bit him right on the neck.”
Andy winced, and Marty went to looking at the wound, along with David.
“All right, we’ll get him all bandaged up, and he can stay in here,” David said. “I got rooms where your wife and kids can stay. Damn, place is becoming like a hotel.”
“Take it easy, old man,” Marty joked. “You got the room.”
“Maybe I make some of you sleep in the barn,” David joked right back.
“Wait, none of ‘em followed ya’, did they?” Clint asked from the doorway to the room.
“I don’t think so,” Henson answered. “That was quite a ways back. It was still light out.”
“We’ll handle it,” Marty said, sounding somewhat stern. “Andy, maybe it’s time we unloaded the truck.”
“Gotcha,” Andy said, and hurried off.
“Well,” Marty said, looking from the squirming Pete, to David. “Now it’s a party.”
CHAPTER EIGHT- IT HITS A VERY LARGE FAN
The night was hardly quiet near the Foxtail lounge, where the parking lot was full of cars, and the place was filled with hooting and howling men who watched the dancers. This was nearly the only source of relief for a population now shocked by so much death and fear. Amongst the cars, ghoulish figures of the living dead staggered in small numbers, shoved away by people going to the place. Mo and Davis were watchful enough to have kept them away, or even kill them if they drew too near.
Killing them, it had been discovered, could be done if the brain was too damaged to continue the chemically produced animation. Mo and Davis had discovered that two by fours produced this effect wonderfully, and that eventually, the few that wandered about the lot- some of whom had been men they knew before- would approach, looking for the living to feed on. Nearly a half dozen were stacked around the side of the place, killed by the place’s bouncers.
In the lot, a burly man of fifty with long gray hair and a full beard lit a cigarette, and glared with disgust at the place. He could hear the muffled thudding sound of the bass from the music through the walls, and he left his car after closing the cylinder on his revolver, and tucking it in his waistline. Standing in the lot, he regarded the three zombies he could see, and the two enormous bouncers.
Mike, Ash and Dana’s uncle, strode across the lot, and approached the doors, looking confidently at the pair of men who stared at his approach. Mike had produced his wallet, and he looked between the two men. They were scrutinizing him, but neither could see his weapon, and they exchanged a glance.
“How much?” he asked.
“Been on the road long?” Mo asked.
“All day,” Mike answered. “Can’t think of a better way to end the day.”
“Shit no,” Mo agreed. “Some fine bitches in here, bro.”
“Twenty”, Davis informed him. Mike was quick to fish out a ten and two five dollar bills from his wallet, and hand them to Davis.
“Ain’t got much for rules,” Mo said. “Don’t touch the girls. If they want, they touch you. If they want, you can touch them, but you don’t touch them, you understand?”
“I got it,” Mike said.
Mo nodded toward the place, and Mike stepped inside, to where the deafening music had nothing to hinder its assault on his ears. He regarded it as crap- garbage merely to facilitate the ruinous life his niece was part of. Looking around only a moment, he started toward the bar, unaware that Welles and Clyde had spotted him, and were hurrying to find Marco. Before they could, Mike had spied Ash, and he hurried toward her as she was headed for the stage, her cowgirl costume swapped out for the evening in favor of a ‘naughty school girl’ ensemble.
“Ash!” he called to her as she approached, and she turned to him, her glittering smile greeting him. She looked stunned, but didn’t know what to say at first.
“I’m about to go on,” she informed him.
“No you’re not,” he said. “We’re getting out of here, getting Dana, and I’m taking you to my place.”
“Yeah, it’s him,” Welles said to Marco, who smiled, and then shook his head.
“Son of a bitch,” he said. “All right, Welles? You take Tank and fat boy, here, and go get your other daughter. We need some insurance.”
“Yeah, Ash’ll do whatever we say if we got little sister,” Welles said. “We’ll bring her right back here after we snag her from that motel.”
“And take Missy with ya,” Marco added. “Maybe having a broad there will keep little sister calm. Missy likes the ladies, so she’s good with ‘em.”
“You got it, but don’t she dance pretty soon?” Clyde asked.
“You don’t worry about the whore parade,” Marco snarled. “That’s my game. And watch it, I heard town is crawling with them fucking dead things.”
“We’ll be all right,” Welles said, and hurried away with Clyde to find Tank and Missy. Marco narrowed his eyes on Mike as he could see the m
an obviously arguing with Ash. The DJ had announced Ash, but glared down at her with outstretched arms as Marco put his switchblade in his hand, and started for them.
“Uncle Mike, please, you don’t know these guys…” Ash said.
“I know you’re coming with me, now,” Mike said.
“She ain’t going anywhere,” Marco interrupted, approaching. Welles and his group had just left through the front door of the place. Mike rounded on Marco, and his eyes hardened on the greasy little prick.
“She’s comin’ with me,” Mike said, as a different dancer, sent by the bartender, hurried past them onto the stage, and the music flared up again.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Marco said. “See, I know things you don’t know, Uncle Mike, and this girl here? She’s one of my best whores. So-”
The fist had raced out quickly, and Uncle Mike had leveled Marco with the single punch, causing the bartender to run for the front doors, while Mike grasped Ash by the arm and began to drag her from the place. Marco was crawling back to his feet, aided by another customer, whom he shook off. Mike and Ash were moving through the crowd, and nearing the doors as Marco opened his switchblade and set out after them.
Mo was the first in the door, and he blocked the path of Mike, who put Ash behind him as the big bouncer folded his arms across his chest.
“Get the fuck out of the way, meat,” Mike warned.
“Move me,” Mo challenged.
But the flash of metal and the barrel of the big colt revolver widened Mo’s eyes, and Mike thumbed the hammer back, to the terror of Ash. Mo cautiously did move to the side as Mike urged Ash in front of him, and the crowd flew into panic, scrambling to hide from the violent scene unfolding. Mike betrayed no emotion as he forced Ash from the club, and through the door. Mo caught sight of the bloodied Marco giving chase with the switchblade, and he moved to intercept him.
“Marco, man, don’t!” Mo advised.
“Back the fuck off!” Marco shouted, passing Mo.
Outside, Mike had backed Davis away as well with his gun, preparing to set out across the lot. Two of the zombies were close, but had been largely unnoticed because of the confrontation. Davis smirked at Mike as Ash had staggered out into the lot, and Mike kept the gun trained on the bouncer.
Escape from the Dead Page 6