Broken (Book 3 of The Guardian Interviews)

by Michael Clary

  Their moans kept getting louder and louder. The rumbling sound of those many, many bodies moving towards us became more and more distinct.

  We left.

  I gunned the Jeep down the road. I made sure to keep at least a few streets between us and the road that the horde was using but we still heard them as we passed by. The plan had worked. The shamblers had lost our trail. Hell, for all we knew, once they ran out of road they might forget about us entirely and just wander back to Trans Mountain.

  The way to my old house was now clear. Very soon I would have my vengeance. I was shivering with anticipation.

  “You okay?” Nick asked after noticing.

  “I’m fine,” I answered.

  “Then why are you shaking so much?” Nick asked.

  The shaking was actually getting pretty bad. Or at least bad enough that I could no longer chalk it up as anticipation, yet I had no other explanation. Then it hit me.

  I was cold.

  I turned on the Jeep’s heater and warmed up the car.

  “You normally don’t get very cold, Jax,” Dudley said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m pretty fucking fine considering how much blood I lost from that hole in my stomach,” I snapped. “Now stop worrying about me. Get your head in the game. I want a plan in place before we reach Doniphan.”

  Doniphan was a street that cut right through Redd Road. Once we hit that street, we were just a few minutes from my old house.

  “I think we should leave the Jeep on Doniphan and head out on foot,” Nick said. “We can move all stealthily and shit like that. Get a good look at things without anyone hearing or seeing us.”

  A few zombies came running out from between two houses. I hit the lever by the shifter and collapsed the armored top. Dudley took aim with his mp7 and brought the zombies down quickly. One of them still managed a scream but it wasn’t extremely loud.

  “What the Hell were so many zombies doing on Trans Mountain?” Nick asked. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “I’m thinking that a bunch of them on the Westside heard the battle sounds when the Monster broke into the city. They probably all just started wandering up the mountain together looking for a meal.”

  “I guess so,” Nick said. “I was just hoping that it wasn’t a trap or something. I’ve never heard anyone say anything about hordes of zombies on the mountain.”

  “Nah,” Dudley said. “I don’t think it was a trap. If the Monster wanted to trap us, he would have found a way to disable our vehicle in the middle of all that shit. That would have been a death sentence for sure.”

  “Instead, the Monster probably assumed there would be some heavy zombie activity after the battle,” Nick said, “so he left us an undamaged Jeep in order to travel safely. Does that sound right to you?”

  “It does to me,” I interrupted. “He wants to fight me. He went after my wife to bring me here, and now he wants to make sure I show up.”

  “This asshole is going to get a lot more than he bargained for,” Nick said.

  “You got that right,” I agreed.

  Once we reached the intersection of Doniphan and Redd Road, we killed the engine, and sat in the Jeep for a bit. I had parked between some abandoned vehicles, so we had plenty of cover. Anyone passing by might even mistake our ride for just another derelict automobile polluting the street.

  None of us could hear or see anything out of the ordinary, so we quietly set out on foot. In order to stay unseen, we ran through an apartment complex. The place looked a mess. Doors were shattered, and human remains littered the ground.

  It wasn’t pleasant at all. We could still see dried blood on the walls of some of the buildings. It’s sometimes rather hard to remember all the good we were able to do. Especially when we see how much we lost. Who were these people? They lived so close to me, and I never knew them. How many died here? Would we ever find out?

  Dudley tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed back towards the mountain. Even from where we were on the ground we could see the muzzle flashes of weapons being fired.

  “Somebody followed us,” I said.

  “Why would anyone wanna go and do that?” Dudley asked.

  “Beats me,” I answered. “They must be dumber than we are.”

  “How many shamblers do you think followed us off the mountain?” Nick asked.

  “A good bunch,” I replied. “They’re moving faster than we did.”

  “You think they’re looking for trouble?” Dudley asked. “I doubt those government boys would follow us into El Paso. There are easier ways to get yourself killed.”

  “Let’s just expect trouble,” I said.

  I then began moving through the alleys of the apartment complex. There were moans coming from behind a few of the closed doors. We also heard the scratches of broken nails sliding across glass windows.

  “None of them are screaming yet,” Nick whispered.

  “That’s because they haven’t seen us,” I said. “I think they just smell food.”

  “How bad do you think it’ll be if one of them screams out?” Dudley asked.

  “Not as bad as the mountain,” I answered.

  We continued on. We took cover where we found it. We stayed out of the open. Bushes and shrubs were our friends. Dark passageways became our allies.

  At the opposite end of the apartment complex was a rock wall. We scaled it quietly. At the top, we looked for danger. A sea of overgrown backyards ran from left to right, as apartments gave way to houses. The yard before us had a swimming pool. In the pool was a zombie. It had seen us through the water and was frantically trying to make its way to the shallow end in order to climb out and attack us.

  “Looks like this is as good a place as any,” Dudley said.

  The three of us jumped. The landing hurt my stomach. It was a sharp pain that made me grit my teeth. I was getting cold again.

  I met the zombie as its upper body breached the surface of the pool. It made watery moans but it couldn’t scream. The greenish flesh on its face looked doughy, and ready to fall off. The tomahawk was in my hand. I didn’t remember grabbing it but I used it anyway.

  The corpse slid back into the water with barely a sound.

  We went around the house. There was no reason to go through it. That would have only added more danger, and we’d had our fill of zombie fun for the evening.

  At the edge of the front yard, the three of us crouched behind a bush in dire need of a trim and surveyed the street before us. A few of the porch lights burned in the surrounding houses but other than that, darkness reigned.

  We bolted across the street, ran through the front of another yard, moved around the side of that house, scaled a low wall and entered a backyard. This yard had four zombies, one of which was a child.

  I took out the kid first. Let the image of that kill find a final resting place in my head, and fight to be remembered amongst all the other crappy things I wish I never had to see. Dudley and Nick didn’t need to have that on their conscience.

  The other three zombies were easy enough to bring down. We were moving quickly and efficiently. None of them were even able to scream out. We were on them too quickly for that.

  “AAAAWWWWOOOOAAAA!”

  That’s the best way I can describe the sound. It was like hearing the demented merging of a human being and a fog horn. One minute everything was quiet and the next that sound was reaching out across the night sky, echoing across the flat land surrounding the area. Each of us looked at the other, first in confusion, and then in worry due to how loud the sound was.

  “What the Hell was that?” Nick asked.

  “That’s no zombie,” Dudley said. “That’s something new.”

  “It wasn’t human,” Nick whispered. “There was no way that could be human. It had to be a machine. Maybe it’s some sort of alarm at that milk factory at the end of the road.”

  “No,” Dudley said. “The milk factory doesn’t have an alarm.”

  I
was ignoring them. I wasn’t ready to be concerned about the source of the sound. I was still stuck on what effect the sound would have. I listened as hard as I could.

  I didn’t take long.

  The neighborhood was coming to life around us. Well, I guess you can’t really say that. There wasn’t anything living nearby. No, I think it would be better to say that the sound was loud enough to wake the dead.

  I heard the sounds of shuffling from inside the nearby homes. I heard fists pound against doors. I heard the moans behind the walls. There were a lot of zombies in the area.

  After Nick and Dudley quieted down for a moment, they began to hear them as well. Nick’s face darted around as he picked up different sounds from different directions. He was looking nervous.

  The sound of splintering wood could be heard from several different directions. The zombies were leaving their resting places.

  “Time to move,” I said.

  We kept low. We communicated through hand gestures. We remained undetected. Around us, we could hear the shamblers take to the streets. They were searching for prey. It wasn’t long before we saw a few small groups of them wandering aimlessly farther down the road.

  We stayed clear of them, and continued on our way until we came to the canal at the very end of Redd Road. It wasn’t much too see: two small hills divided by a flowing body of water. The top of each hill was wide enough to fit a car. In fact, Dudley and I took the canal trail on the first day of the outbreak. The roads were packed with cars. The dead were following us. The only choice we had was to take the canal all the way to the Rio Grande.

  One side of the canal bordered on a street called Montoya. The other side ran along the backs of rock walls. Between the walls and the canals was a long low ditch. We stayed away from the street. The street had too much movement.

  We did our best to move quietly but it was difficult with all the ground litter in the muddy ditch. Thin branches and dead leaves were our enemies. We moved slower to cut down the noise. We stayed in the shadows.

  “Maybe we should make a bunch of noise,” Nick said. “Get all the zombies in the area to follow us. Then lead them to your old house and let them deal with this Monster fucker.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m going to deal with the Monster. Keep it quiet. If you get spotted, attack quickly before they can scream.”

  After moving down the ditch for awhile, I crawled up the small hill, and peered over the top of the canal. We were right where we needed to be. Looking out over Montoya, I could see my old street. The lights of my old house were the only lights on in the neighborhood.

  Other than that, I saw nothing.

  “No movement on the street,” I announced. “The lights are on though. I’m going to make a run for it.”

  “I have a better idea,” Dudley said. “Let’s stay out of the open. We can move farther down the canal, cut down the next street over, and move through the open field behind your house. I bet the grass has grown pretty long. It’ll be great cover.”

  Dudley was right, and from the field we would be able to use our binoculars to get a better look at the situation. I still wasn’t using my head. I was rushing things in my desire to get my hands on the Monster. I was being an idiot.

  We moved another street over. On our way there, we ran into another zombie. This one was missing half its body. It gurgled and moaned when it saw us. I would have shot it, but we could hear a sizable group of shamblers on the road on the other side of the canal. A muffled weapon still makes a sound, and we couldn’t afford any attention.

  So, I jumped on the bastard.

  I also shoved his filthy head into the mud he was crawling through. I was fast enough to prevent him from screaming out but his thrashing arms were still making too much noise. I fumbled around my utility belt a bit before I managed to find the handle of my Bowie knife. It made a soft sound as I pulled it from its leather sheath.

  I buried the blade into the base of the zombie’s skull. The creature went still beneath me. I looked up at Dudley and Nick. Their eyes were wide. I motioned for one of them to look over the top of the canal and see if the other shamblers heard any noise.

  Dudley crawled to the top. He surveyed the street for a few minutes; then he slid back down and shook his head.

  “How bad is it on the street?” I asked.

  “There are about five big groups of ten or more and a bunch of lone wanderers,” Dudley answered.

  “Can we make it across Montoya?” I asked.

  “I think so,” Dudley answered. “No guarantees though.”

  The three of us crawled to the top of the canal. Once we reached the top, we’d stayed as low as possible. Fortunately for us, the top of the canal was overgrown. We were camouflaged by the weeds and grass that kept attempting to heal my wounds.

  Since we were all crawling, it took some time for us to reach the little metal bridge that provided the easiest way to cross the canal. I went first. I moved at a crouch. I also moved slowly so my footsteps wouldn’t echo on the metal.

  Once across, I laid flat in the weeds and again felt them slowly crawl across my body. I didn’t like the looks of the street. There were too many zombies, and attempting to clear them out would only attract more. We were in a situation. Nick came across next and took a position right next to me.

  Peering through the weeds, he grimaced and frowned at all the zombies.

  “This sucks,” he said.

  “I agree,” I said.

  Dudley made his way across and took his position next to Nick.

  “Let’s wait them out,” Dudley said.

  “How long is that going to take?” Nick asked.

  “Well,” Dudley answered. “They all seem to be moving away from this location. So hopefully, it won’t take too damn long.”

  The wait was longer than I would have liked. According to the Protrek on my wrist, it took thirty-two minutes. During that time we moved as little as possible. Once, one of shamblers wandered uncomfortable close to our position. None of us moved but the zombie still managed to catch our scent. Using its hands and feet to dig into the mud, the shambler began to climb up the muddy hill. When he reached the top, he was face to face with Dudley. The zombie’s eyes grew big when he saw the waiting meal only inches away. Dudley had his complete attention. Therefore, the corpse never noticed Nick’s small pocket knife moving towards its head until it was embedded hilt deep into its temple.

  Dudley moved quickly as soon as the body went limp. He didn’t want to risk any noise by having the body tumble down the side of the canal, so he grabbed it under the arms and with Nicks help pulled it on top of him.

  The dead zombie was a life-saver. The smell masked our human scents. It kept others of its kind from investigating our area.

  Finally, it became a bit safer to make our way across the street. I was the first to make the move. I slid down the hill of the canal face first and crouched at the bottom. I surveyed the area, then bolted across the street.

  Dudley rolled out from under the corpse and followed behind me. Nick came immediately after him. We got our bearings while hiding next to a large, droopy tree. Then we moved down the road.

  We quietly passed house after house until we finally came upon the open field we were looking for. The field was enclosed by a rusty chain-link fence that we easily scaled. Dudley was right about the grass in the field. It was at least four feet high. It wasn’t exactly healthy grass, perhaps it wasn’t even grass at all. The color itself suggested a dire need of water. But that didn’t stop the wispy tendrils of life from yet again clinging to my body in an effort to heal the damage on my arm and stomach.

  I investigated my wounds. My arm seemed pretty good. There was very little blood, but it still emitted a dull ache whenever I moved it. The hole in my stomach was oozing slowly. All the movement must have aggravated it once again.

  “You okay?” Dudley asked.

  “I think so,” I answered.

  “Well you better be sure,” Dudle
y said. “We have no idea what we’re about to face.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I grumbled.

  “Is he bleeding again?” Nick asked from a slight distance away.

  “I think so,” Dudley answered.

  “Fucking Jax,” Nick growled. “Get yourself fixed up before you bleed to death, dumbass.”

  A moan came from somewhere to our left.

  The three of us dropped to our stomachs in response. We weren’t alone in this field, and Nick’s shitty volume control let them know they had company.

  We waited silently.

  Finally, a zombie rose up from the tall grass. It was followed by another, and another, and another. There were about twenty zombies in the field with us. I can’t tell you what they were doing there, lying down in the grass. I can’t even tell you how long they had been there. Zombies do some weird shit when nobody’s looking. Some of the monster geeks think that when there isn’t a food source around, the zombies can occasionally fall into a sort of slumber. I’ll take their word for it. Most of the zombies I’ve seen were trying to eat me.

  The hunt was on.

  The zombies were searching for us in the grass. We were hunting them. Our goal was to bring all of them down before they could scream and give away our position. Their goal was to eat us, and they were probably pretty damn hungry.

  The zombies moved, and we moved. They made their way to our position by the fence, and we circled around them.

  Our attack was from the rear. We evaded being seen in an effort to avoid any screams. We moved through the grass like lions. When we came up behind a zombie, we launched ourselves up, and brought them down as violently as possible.

  The three of us split up. We began to attack from different angles as the zombies spread out in different directions as they searched for us. In the first attack alone, all of us were successful. Three zombies went down silently.

  The shamblers never even realized their prey had become the hunter. Not that it would have mattered if they had. They would have just kept coming for us: that’s what zombies do.