by M. Lorrox
“Sweet! Let’s do it!”
Craig starts to slow down. The zombies do not, and they’re closing in on the truck; they’re just a few yards away.
The closest one is on Eddy’s side. Eddy raises his rifle up to it and waits. He looks through the scope, but it’s set for much farther distances. He decides to leave it set that way and barrel-sight any shots he may need to take. He looks past the scope at the target. It used to be a man. It has dark, matted hair and cracking, sunken skin. Broken teeth gnash at him from behind torn lips. Bill fires from across the truck, taking the face and the front of the skull from the zombie’s head. Eddy watches as a mass of gray-and-brown flesh falls out and down the front of the zombie as it collapses to the ground.
Eddy lowers his rifle. That is so…fucking…gross.
Bill pumps the shotgun to reload, aims at another zombie, and fires again. He takes its head off, this time because he hit the zombie’s neck with buckshot. As the body trips and falls, the head seems to levitate in the air—still traveling forward—as it falls. It lands a few feet in front of the body and is kicked by the zombie of what was a younger-looking boy in a tank top.
Bill laughs. “GGGOOOOOAAAALLLL!”
Tomas looks at Craig.
Craig shrugs.
A group of three zombies—led by the newfound soccer star—is getting very close to the truck. They are not slowing down.
Eddy takes aim at the one farthest to his side of the truck and drills a round straight through its eye. The bullet flies through its skull and hits a zombie behind it; the clavicle bone and some flesh burst out and into the air. Bill aims at the soccer star and fires. He takes off the back and top of its head. It falls in front of the last of the closest zombies. It gets tripped up, and it falls down as well.
Bill reloads and yells into the truck, “They’re not slowing down—you better speed up!”
Tomas is watching through the back window. He turns to Craig. “I know what to do. Punch it!”
Craig hesitates.
“DO IT!”
Craig stomps on the pedal. They pull away from the zombies quickly.
“If you put some distance between you and them, they’ll probably not run any faster. If anything, they’ll slow down because we’re getting away. Then we can just back up to them and, uh, reengage.”
Craig considers the plan. “It’s worth a shot. Eddy! Keep an eye out for any Z that try and get away.”
Eddy watches the zombies as their truck pulls away from them. “It’s working! They’re slowing down! Keep going!”
Craig continues until Eddy tells him to hold. They’re parked far in front of the zombies. Eddy lifts the rifle and looks through the scope. The zombies are walking now, still mostly in a group. That one’s headed away, those two off to the side… I can take ’em if they go too far.
Craig looks at Tomas. “Nice job, buddy.”
Tomas smiles. “Thanks.”
“How’s it looking, Eddy?”
“The group is starting to loosen up. We should head back soon.”
“Okay, tell me when.” He checks his mirror. I can’t see a damn thing back there.
-Dahrong!-
Everyone looks in the direction of the noise—to the front of the truck. A zombie is at the front-right quarter panel and is banging its way around toward Tomas’ door and open window.
Tomas fervently tries to roll up the window, but the zombie’s arms are already inside. Tomas recoils away. “Shoot it!”
Eddy has no shot, unless he shoots through the roof of the truck. He can’t even see the zombie anymore.
Bill knows better than to blast it with his shotgun while it’s right beside Tomas; an exploding mist of zombie blood is a recipe for infection. Instead, he uses the butt of the shotgun to wail on it. The zombie’s left upper arm cracks as a good hit lands, but it is still focused on getting inside the window.
Craig slams the truck into Reverse and floors it. The zombie is knocked down to the ground as the truck pulls away.
Eddy has a clear shot now. “MINE!”
Bill looks over, and Eddy is already firing. -BANG!-
The bullet slams through the zombie’s skull and into the pavement. Either the impact blew part of the pavement up, or it ricocheted back into the skull. In any case, a tiny burst flies into the air from the impact spot.
Tomas collects himself. Craig continues driving backward toward the horde of zombies they’ve left behind. “It’s just getting started, boys. Keep it together.”
Eddy is inside the truck. “Tomo, you okay man?”
Tomas is breathing hard. “I…dunno.” He holds up his right arm. His shirt is ripped, and there’s claw marks on his arm.
“Did it break the skin?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Tomo! Are you bleeding?”
Tomas pushes the ripped sleeve out of the way. “No. I’m not bleeding, but it’s all red.” He turns to Craig. “Stop for a second. I should rinse my arm off—in case there’s saliva.” He turns to Eddy and Bill. “Cover me.”
They nod.
Craig stops the truck. They’re half the way back to the pack of zombies, which is picking up its pace towards the truck. Bill tosses another water bottle to Tomas. “That was close, dude.”
Tomas nods. “Yeah, let’s be more careful.” He opens the door and takes off his shirt, then tosses it to the side of the road. He rinses his arm off and wipes it down. He wipes off his hands, shakes them off, then pours the rest of the bottle on his face. He shakes his head like a dog shaking off water; the droplets make a brief little rainbow in the sun’s last stretch across the horizon.
When he gets back into the truck, Craig continues backing up to the zombies.
Eddy reloads his magazine. “You better keep your window up.”
Tomas nods. “You better get back out there. We’ll need you to pick off any that don’t restart the chase.”
Eddy smiles and nods at him. “You got it, Cap’n.”
The spirits are high in Roger’s truck. Sophia and Jess chat during their skillful execution of zombies. Joe has proven himself as a capable navigator and radio operator, and Roger has taught him more military lingo. He holds up a finger to his student. “One last thing, little man, it’s not ‘over and out,’ they just say that in the movies. When the conversation is over, you say ‘out.’ That’s it.”
Joe nods. “Understood. And we’re approaching the rendezvous. I’ll call over.” He picks up the walkie and holds it to his mouth. “Team One to Team Two, come in. Over.”
“Team Two here, go ahead. Over.”
“We’re approaching rendezvous. Over.”
“We had a snag, but we’re almost there. Over.”
“Standby until visual. Over.”
At the rendezvous location, the two roads the teams are on run close by each other with only a stretch of farmland between them. After two miles, the roads separate again, each skirting opposite outer edges of the town. Roger gets to the area first, but Craig is only thirty seconds behind.
“We see you up ahead. Over.”
Joe glances into the mirror for a split-second, then realizes he should respond. “Copy that. Standby. Over.”
Jess and Sophia are leaning out their windows, and they wave when they notice Craig’s truck and the mass of zombies behind it.
Jess leans inside her window. “It looks like they’ve got a decent group behind them. Nicely packed together, too.”
Roger tries to adjust his view in the mirror to see, but he can barely make them out. “Good. Things are going well. Joe, go over the counts.”
Joe nods and lifts the walkie. “Team One counts sixteen down, thirty-eight behind. Over.”
“Team Two counts twenty-three down, twenty-eight behind. Over.”
Roger raises his eyebrows at the count. “Ask for a quick report.”
“Team Two, status report. Over.”
“We had to take a bunch out when we slowed down, and then one ambushed the
truck, but everyone is fine. Over.”
Joe looks at Jess, concerned about their friends. Jess blows the hair out of her eyes.
Roger clears his throat.
Joe wonders what happened. In that truck, he has two cousins and two friends. I hope everyone is alright.
Roger is annoyed. “Ahem…Joe! Respond to the radio.”
Joe hurries to respond. “Copy that. Over.”
-Bang!- Sophia picks off another zombie that couldn’t keep up.
Roger smiles. “Okay, Joe, ask if they’re ready for phase two.”
“Team One to Team Two, are you ready for phase two? Over.”
“We are ready. Over.”
Roger nods. “Good. Sign out.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you at Rendezvous Two… Out.” Joe smiles as he puts the walkie down, looks at the map, and thinks about the rest of the plan. They’re heading to the southwest side of town, meeting up near Route 74, which hugs the mountains to the west and continues south toward Georgia. To get to the rendezvous point, they’ll navigate around the edges of the town, hopefully collecting more zombies and staying away from most of the town’s traffic. Once the trucks reconnect near 74, they’ll join the zombie groups together. If everything goes to plan, they’ll turn off the main road and onto one that leads up toward the mountains where they will unload on the zombies. The body count will be crazy!
The roads are beginning to separate, and the sun has set on the valley. The sky has a red glow toward the west; the clouds above the Smoky Mountains are still blazing from the sun. To the east, some light pollution from Asheville adds to the ambient light, but besides that little glow, darkness is coming swiftly.
Eddy smiles as he sees that the sun has finally set. He has always enjoyed it, perhaps because of the colors, perhaps because he’s safer after sunset, perhaps because he just likes the night. Regardless of the reason, he smiles until he wonders what they’ll do in the dark. He looks at the zombies following the truck. There’s no stragglers. He returns to inside the truck.
“Hey, Craig, won’t it be too dark soon?”
Craig looks at the clock on his dash. “We’re only fifteen minutes behind schedule. The plan was to hit the town around sunset, so there’ll be less people out. There’s plenty of streetlights where we’re meeting up later, so visibility won’t be a problem.
“Oh. Okay.” Man, they’ve got this really well planned out.
Eddy returns to his post out the window.
Minnie is curled up in bed with Rusty and Valentine; they patiently await their bedtime story. Sadie comes in and sits on the side of the bed.
“So, you three, what story would you like to hear tonight?”
“The Four Sisters.”
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine too!”
-Bark!-
Sadie shushes Rusty, then slides up next to Minnie, leaning against the bed’s headboard. “There was once a farming family that lived in a faraway land. They had four daughters—each was so pretty, just like you, Minnie. When they grew up, the mommy and daddy sat them all down and said, ‘Girls, we have nothing more to give you at this farm. You must go out into the world and learn a trade.’”
Minnie springs up. “They went through town, and at the crossroads they split up—”
“Hey! Who’s telling this story anyway?”
Minnie laughs and lies back down. “Sorry, Mommy.”
Charlie sticks his head through the open door and uses his gravelliest voice. “What’s all this ruckus?”
Sadie and Minnie look at him and together say, “Nothing…”
Charlie exaggerates his skepticism. “Hmmmmm. Well, I guess I’ll let you be, then.” He smiles, and Minnie laughs. He walks to the bed. “Minnie, dear, I have to go do some work, so I’ll say good night now.”
She shoots her arms up for maximum hug-ability. “Good night, Daddy! I love you!”
He hugs Minnie and kisses her cheek. “I love you too, darling. Good night.”
He shuts the door on his way out. He can hear Sadie continue the story that she’s told over a thousand times. She’s told it to all their kids, except sometimes there were sons in it instead of daughters.
Downstairs, he grabs his phone. Still nothing from Eddy. He decides to call him.
Voicemail. Charlie hangs up. I’m going to kill that kid. He walks with the phone into the living room and sits down. He calls Skip. The phone only rings once.
“Charlie?”
“Hey, Skip. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“Have you or June heard anything from Eddy?”
“I’ll check. I’m just getting out of the shower. Let me call you back in a couple.”
“Thanks, bud.”
Skip finishes getting dressed, then finds June in her room. She’s drawing horses in a sketchbook and listening to some music through her computer.
“Hey, June. How’s it going?”
She doesn’t look up. “It’s…okay. Just drawing.”
Skip takes a closer look at her drawing. Wow. “You’ve gotten really good! Maybe you should be a comic book artist when you grow up.”
June pauses to give Skip a disgruntled look. “Only if I also write them.”
“Oh… Well I’m sure lots of people do both. I just don’t see you writing much, but you’ve always got that sketchbook with you.”
She goes back to drawing. “I do it on the computer, Dad.”
“That makes sense.” Skip stands there for a moment, confused. What is going on with you? “Well, would you like to talk about…whatever’s going on? Earlier you said you wanted to talk later.”
June stops drawing but doesn’t look up. She rotates the pencil between her fingers, first all the way in one direction, then back in the other.
Skip sits down. “Have you, umm, heard from Eddy today?”
June looks up at him. “Why, what is it?”
“I don’t know; Charlie was asking. I don’t think Eddy is home yet.”
June puts down her sketchbook and pencil and stares out the window. Why do you have to be such a dummy?
“June, where’s Eddy?”
She looks at Skip. “Dad, I don’t know. Well, not really.”
“O-kay.” Skip stands. “Come on downstairs. Let’s chat.” He leaves her room and takes out his phone to text Charlie.
June hasn’t heard from Eddy but something’s up. I’ll get back to you.
Sophia returns to the inside of the truck to reload the .223 Winchester rifle’s magazine. “Damn, we sure got a lot of zed back there!”
Joe turns around, excited. “How many do you think are back there now?”
“A least fifty! The last couple miles sure had a lot of them ugly bastards.”
Roger was listening, but now he’s focused on the headlights coming their way. “You best turn off, buddy!” He blares the horn and flashes his headlights. “Jess, take a zombie out!”
Jess aims for the closest one and fires. -BOOM!- “Forty-four!”
The car turns off its lights and turns onto a side street.
“Whew.” Roger relaxes. “We’ve been lucky those last two times.”
Sophia leans into the front seat. “We’re doing great, I’d say! Y’all’ll be heroes come mornin’!”
Roger looks at her over his shoulder and then through the mirror. He looks at her smile. It’s a little crooked, but beautiful. “I’m sure glad you’re here to help, Sophia. We make a good team.”
She blushes. “Glad to be here and able to help.” She returns to the backseat and clicks the magazine in. She notices her long arm-length glove has started to slide down, revealing the top of a massive scar—discolored, raised, and rough. She tugs the glove back up and looks to see if anyone noticed.
They hadn’t.
She slides back out the window and looks at the zombies behind them. I’ll kill every one of you, every last one. One-by-fucking-one. She looks through the scope
at the zombie farthest away. It’s about a yard behind the next, and is keeping up well enough.
-Bang!- The bullet hits the zombie in the shoulder, knocking it over. It falls to the side and tries to get up, while the truck and other zombies continue on. Sophia reloads and fires again, killing it. “Forty-five.”
Jess looks at her over the top of the truck. “Did you miss?”
Sophia sighs. “Yeah.” She forces a smile. “First time for everything!”
Jess laughs.
Inside the truck, Joe notices their location. “Roger, we’re almost through the town. We’ll be at the next rendezvous in a few minutes.”
He nods. “Good.”
Team One—consisting of Roger, Joe, Sophia, and Jess—have sixty-eight zombies behind them, and they’ve shot forty-five. Team Two—with Craig, Tomas, Bill, and Eddy—have seventy-six zombies behind them, and they’ve shot fifty-two. The roads the teams are driving on are about to merge.
Bill slides into the truck. “I’m gonna switch over to the 45-70 for a minute!” He tosses the 12-gauge to the seat and grabs the short lever-action rifle from the back. He loads some bullets and returns out the window. “Hey Eddy!”
Eddy removes his eye from the back of the scope. “What’s up?”
“Check this out!” Bill swings the lever under the trigger forward then back, which simultaneously loads a bullet into the chamber and cocks the gun’s hammer. He takes aim, and -BWRANG!-
The bullet rips through the face of the closest zombie, killing it. The bullet also hits the zombie behind the first target, taking out the back of its skull, killing it as well. Finally, the bullet strikes and comes to rest in another zombie’s shoulder, spraying meat outward and causing the arm to flail wildly.
Eddy double takes. “Holy crap! That thing’s a beast!”
“Yeah, she is!” Bill smiles and then looks back out at the zombies. One of them has fallen down. Maybe it was the one that collected the bullet in its shoulder, or maybe it’s a different one that tripped on one of its recently executed, stinky comrades. Bill points with his gun. “Eddy, you’re up!”
He raises his rifle and, without delay, dispatches the zombie.
“Fifty-three! Oh wait, no, fifty-five!”