Dark Crossing

by Thomas A. Watson

  Driving out of the barn, he pulled over to a fuel tank. Turning the truck off, Bill climbed out and each time he stepped with his left leg, pain radiated through his body. “Whatever it takes,” he panted, grabbing the nozzle and throwing it in the bed of the truck.

  Gripping the pump handle, Bill started pumping when another stinker walked over. “Unless you’re going to help, piss off!” he snapped. After the stinker sniffed the air, not smelling a human, it turned away moving back to the road.

  The plastic sheeting formed a pool as the fuel was pumped into the bed, soaking into the hay bales. “Shame. Seems like a good truck,” Bill sighed, stomping his left leg when he felt his mind getting hazy.

  Seeing the bed half full of fuel, Bill tossed the nozzle on the ground and headed for the cab. Stopping at the back, Bill opened the rear driver’s side door and dug under the seat for the road hazard bag. Grabbing it and opening it, he grinned to see road flares before he shut the door with his hip and climbed behind the steering wheel.

  Starting the truck again, Bill looked out the front window and saw Paw and the female stinker heading for the road. “Damn, didn’t even wait on your boy,” Bill laughed, dropping the truck into gear.

  Centering on the two, Bill pressed the accelerator, driving over them slowly. Looking in the side mirror, he put the truck in reverse and drove over the two bodies with the back wheels. “That’s what you get, bitch,” Bill said, pulling out.

  Driving onto the road, Bill headed west and rolled down the window. Propping his arm in the window, Bill let the pistol lay in his lap while he cruised down the road. Passing the first barn the stinkers had showed up at days before, Bill shook his head. “I got here in thirty minutes,” he huffed, passing the barn. “Nothing beats modern transportation.”

  Finding the house they had spotted the day before, surrounded by stinkers, Bill pulled off the road and drove down the driveway. He had seen this house marked on Paw’s map and figured he could help a few more people. Plus, drag in some more stinkers.

  Sticking his head out the window, “Hey, stinkers, come on! I’m starting a party!” he shouted, driving around the house.

  Coming around the other side, he saw a man standing at an open upstairs window. “Wait till they’re gone and find somewhere to hole up, but don’t go to Kaw City. That’s where the bad guys are!” Bill shouted, and the man nodded, raising his hand in a wave.

  A woman stepped up beside the man as Bill pulled his head back, not wanting the stinkers to lose interest in him. “Don’t wait long because I can only pull them off for the party! After that, the stinkers may come back!” Bill shouted, and both waved at him again.

  Driving back to the road, Bill slowed to wait for the stinkers to catch up. Looking back, he could see the crowd moving slowly toward him in the brake lights. Seeing almost all of the stinkers coming, Bill let off the brake and eased down the road.

  As a wave of lethargy swept over him, Bill stomped his foot down on the floorboard. “SHIT! I need more time!” he shouted stomping his foot again. Feeling very little pain, he struggled to keep his eyes open. Patting his pants, he l pulled out his knife. Flipping the blade open and feeling his eyes getting even heavier, he jammed the blade into his right thigh feeling the blade sink into bone.

  “Fuck!” Bill screamed as pain inundated his mind. Leaving the blade in his thigh, he looked in the rearview mirror with tears rolling down his face, soaking his beard as the truck idled down the road. Seeing the stinkers were getting close, he tapped the accelerator to speed up to twenty miles an hour.

  The pain did its job. Wide awake now, Bill drove on. Punching the CD button, he grinned when Hank Jr. inundated the cab. “That’s right! A country boy can survive!” Bill shouted and rolled down the passenger window.

  Looking back, he saw the stinkers still following in the distance. Realizing they were falling behind, Bill took his foot off the accelerator. “I shouldn’t be able to see this good at night,” Bill admitted, sticking his head out the window. His brain told him it shouldn’t be able to see the stinkers a mile away, but Bill could see their shadowy outlines quite clearly.

  “Damn, these fuckers can see pretty damn good at night,” Bill said, pulling his head back in. “Wish I could tell Johnathan.” It wasn’t night vision, but it was better than he could ever remember seeing at night. Looking over at a stand of trees, Bill cocked his head to the side. The shadows under the trees seemed much too dark. “Weird,” he mumbled.

  Speeding up and singing along with Hank, Bill headed for the barn they’d been attacked in. Coming in from the north, he could still see a bunch of stinkers. A large group was under a lone tree near the road. He stopped on the road, hearing the fuel that hadn’t been soaked up by the hay in the bed slosh around.

  Looking up in the tree, Bill saw a man holding his bloody stomach. “Have some trouble?” Bill shouted as the stinkers moved toward the truck.

  “Help me!” the man screamed.

  “Okay,” Bill said, reaching over and grabbing the shotgun. When he pointed it out the window, the man screamed while raising his hands and promptly fell out of the tree. The stinkers that had been heading for the truck spun around, hearing the man scream while the others tore into him.

  “You’re welcome!” Bill shouted, tossing the shotgun back on the passenger seat. He eased forward and stinkers around the area moved to the road.

  “Get out of my way!” he shouted, pushing them aside with the bumper. Those not pushed to the side, he felt the truck bounce over while the fuel in the bed continued to slosh around.

  When he pulled through the crowd, a stinker grabbed the arm he had resting on the door. “You’re touching me,” Bill snarled, not turning away from the road and continued pressing the accelerator. The hand that held his arm let go, recognizing Bill was almost like him.

  Heading south, he picked up speed while he reached down, twisting the knife in his leg. Chewing his bottom lip through the pain, tears again ran down his face and into his beard. When blood filled his mouth, Bill let go of the knife and pleasure filled his mind.

  Turning his head and realizing the pleasure came as soon as he’d tasted blood, Bill spit the blood out and slapped the knife. “Not yet,” he shouted, feeling blood from his leg pool under him. Speeding up, he finally turned east thirteen miles later. A sign told him Kaw Lake was seven miles ahead.

  Reaching over, he turned the radio down and then heard the diesel engine through the open windows. “Damn diesel,” he mumbled, reaching over and into the road hazard bag. Pulling out a road flare, Bill grumbled, “Can’t sneak up on shit with a diesel.”

  Ahead, he saw a large group of stinkers at a wall the Kaw City group had built with crushed cars. Stacking the cars four high Bill had to admit, the wall looked nice and secure. Knowing the wall was the thickest at the road, Bill could see the crushed cars were stacked five high with another stack behind the first. Letting his eyes scan the wall he saw the stacked cars weren’t doubled up a hundred yards off the road. Turning off the road and into a yard, he aimed the truck between two stacks a hundred yards away from the road.

  At thirty miles an hour the truck punched through, knocking the two stacks over. Diesel fuel splashed up from the bed and ran down the front windshield as Bill turned the steering wheel right, heading back for the road. Pressing the center console he opened the back sliding window. Gunshots sounded when he passed a group manning a guard post at the road. They only managed to hit the truck a few times as Bill sped past. He smiled when he looked in the rear view mirror and saw the large group of stinkers pouring through the hole he just made. The group shooting stopped and started to engage the tide pouring in.

  “You guys get sidetracked too easy,” Bill chuckled, speeding up as steam rolled out from under the hood. “Only a mile,” he said, flooring the accelerator.

  Striking the flare, Bill closed his eyes as the flare almost blinded him. Slowing down for a second, he tossed the flare back out the sliding rear window and heard, the
n felt the whoosh as the truck bed filled with flame.

  Closing the rear window before the flames made it inside, he saw flames rolling down the front windshield, igniting the fuel that had splashed over. Feeling his arm getting hot, Bill turned to see his left elbow on fire. “Stop that,” he said, pulling his arm inside and rolling up the windows.

  Hearing a thump from the front, Bill looked to see a man flying away. “Need to keep my mind on the task,” he panted as his elbow burned. Reaching up with his left hand, Bill put his thumb through the pull ring of the grenade hanging off his neck.

  Pulling the pin, Bill held the spoon and saw the tanker trailers ahead while people poured out of houses, seeing the flaming truck speed past. Guiding the truck off the road and pressing the gas pedal to the floor, Bill flew past a school as he aimed at the first trailer, feeling his mind get very hazy.

  “I love you guys. Hope this helps,” Bill sighed, letting the spoon go with a pop.

  The truck hit the closest trailer at sixty miles an hour, ripping a hole in its side. When the airbags blew, they knocked Bill out and the fire from the bed flew over the cab, lighting the leaking fuel from the tanker. Two seconds later, the grenade exploded.

  Over forty miles away, Johnathan, Sandy, and Mary turned southwest when a loud explosion roared in the distance. Several seconds later, they saw the sky flash when the other three trailers exploded. It took a minute for them to hear the next, much louder explosion.

  “That was Bill,” Mary stated, looking at the orange sky to the southwest.

  “Yep, he bought us our time,” Johnathan said, turning back around on his sweat-soaked horse.

  “A grenade can do that?” Sandy asked, following Johnathan.

  “If you use it to set something larger off,” Johnathan replied, wanting to smile for his friend, but couldn’t. “I hope you didn’t suffer,” he whispered under his breath. But in his heart, Johnathan knew Bill had suffered for hours from the bite.

  Looking at her watch, “How much further are we shooting for?” Mary asked, and then reached up, wiping the tears from her face.

  “We have six hours. I want away from here,” Johnathan said over his shoulder.

  Glancing back at the orange sky to the southwest, Sandy nodded. “Yeah, you were right. We have more to fear from humans than stinkers,” she said, turning back around.

  Chapter 2

  South of Ivy Grove, Kentucky

  Leaning back, Lance adjusted the Kydex facemask that covered his face. Using molds of everyone’s faces, the ladybugs and Lilly had made everyone a mask. The black mask covered from the forehead to the jawline, stopping as it reached the ears. Unlike the hockey masks the boys didn’t like, the Kydex mask formed to their face but buckled on like a hockey mask.

  With large eye holes, and holes under the formed nose, small slits were over the mouth to allow them to breathe through the mask. Lance and Ian had painted vivid gray skulls on their masks to further distance them from hockey masks.

  Lance looked up at the dark sky as a new day was about to begin in this hellish forsaken land. Looking over at the mobile home he was watching, Lance had to admit, the Devil Lords had chosen this hideaway spot better than all the others.

  It was a mile outside of the patrol area to the southeast. The mobile home with a barn sat in a large hollow, surrounded on every side by steep, wooded slopes. A winding dirt road led to the site, but the gang had put up a fence around the ridges, so stinkers had never found the area.

  Looking over at the dead guard, “Sorry Four-Eyes,” Lance told the corpse. Thanks to Bones’ computer, they knew the original members of the gang. Right now, Lance was waiting for Stone to come out of the trailer.

  They’d only grabbed a few hours of sleep after planting the deed with the Nazis. When Lance and Ian had gotten ready to continue their plan, they’d found Lilly waiting on them. Right now, Ian and Lilly were a hundred yards back watching over Lance. Ian was on an M14, Lilly was covering him, and Dino was covering both of them.

  Glancing at his watch, Lance sighed. “Stone, you’re late making rounds,” Lance muttered softly as the sun broke in the eastern sky.

  Seeing the front door open and a large man without a shirt step out, Lance smiled and leaned back against the guard shack Four-Eyes had been in to keep watch. “Damn, Stone, you’re bigger in person,” Lance mumbled, watching the figure walk over while rubbing his hairy chest.

  “Damn it, Four-Eyes, if you’re asleep, I’m going to kick your ass,” Stone growled, then started walking faster.

  Before Stone reached Four-Eyes, Lance aimed his AR at Stone, but Stone didn’t notice. “Hey, bitch!” Lance barked, and Stone turned to Lance while grabbing for a pistol at his hip. “Pull it and see if I don’t light your ass up,” Lance dared.

  Stone narrowed his eyes, looking at Lance and slowly raising his hands. Looking at the dark gray skull painted on the mask, Stone saw black face paint around Lance’s eyes making the skull seem alive. “You have balls, kid,” Stone growled.

  “Shut up, bitch boy,” Lance smirked. “I’m here to give you a message to take to Boss Hog.”

  “Who from?”

  “Soldiers of the New Dawn,” Lance said, using the name of the white supremacist group. Seeing Stone’s jaw clench, Lance rested his back against the guard shack, but kept his AR aimed at Stone. “Just to let you know, you have a dozen snipers on you now and a bomb beside your trailer.”

  Giving a startle, Stone cut his eyes around the bowl of the hollow. “What’s your message?” Stone asked, turning back to Lance, who was now holding a metal box with an antenna on one end.

  Flipping a switch on the box, Lance chuckled to see Stone shudder. “I just armed the bomb on your porch. It has mercury switches, so don’t fart around it,” Lance warned, tucking the remote in his vest.

  Breathing deeper and narrowing his eyes at Lance, “Message,” Stone growled.

  “Fine,” Lance huffed. “You have three days to leave, or we will make you.”

  Stone gave a curt laugh, “Like to see you try.”

  “Please. We hit you so many times, you idiots don’t even know it,” Lance chuckled. “I mean, we take out Bones and the others, and you dorks just run around looking stupid. How did you like the toilet?”

  The hostile look fell off Stone’s face and was replaced by shock for a few seconds. Slowly the shock left, and evil filled his face. “You’re awful brave, boy,” he said.

  “Boy?” Lance snapped. “I have a bucket full of balls, a yard full of dick, and enough hair on my ass to weave an Indian blanket. Have you ever seen a boy put a rubber on with a tire tool? Who are you calling boy, bitch?”

  Stone stepped back in surprise from the response and froze to see the barrel of Lance’s AR move with him. “So, three days?” Stone clarified.

  “Yes, or you can join us,” Lance offered with a nod and Stone’s face relaxed some.

  “What are the terms?”

  “Easy. You little punks will be our bitches,” Lance nodded. “You know the difference between like, love, and show off?” Lance asked.

  A dark expression filled Stone’s face. “No,” he growled.

  “Spit, swallow and gargle,” Lance sang out. “Which ever one of you gives me my daily blow job, I want a show off.”

  Stone’s face started turning red and veins stood out on his forehead. “That’s not much of a deal,” he growled in a low voice.

  “Hey, you’re the idiots. Feel lucky the captain offered that. I mean, we have a team watching you all the time, have marked every place you’ve been, using your own radios to triangulate,” Lance stopped. “Oh, sorry, that’s a big word. We used your radios to tell us where you’ve been.”

  With his head trembling in rage, Stone growled through clenched teeth, “I’ll tell Boss.”

  Keeping his AR pointed at Stone, “If you join us, Stone, I want you to show off while you blow me,” Lance smirked, and Stone leaned to move, but Lance gripped the AR, still aiming at his chest
. “Don’t, bitch boy,” Lance warned. “I took Four-Eyes with ease.”

  Stone slowly cut his eyes over to the body and saw a cut across the neck. “I’ll deliver your message,” Stone said, staring at the body.

  Lance nodded, not saying he had caught Four-Eyes asleep and had almost puked when he’d cut the man’s throat. “Get the others up and leave because the bomb will be going off in two hours,” Lance chuckled, stepping backward to the fence. “Don’t slam the door on the trailer, or I’ll have to find another lil’ bitch to deliver the message, and we didn’t leave many of you outside of Pineville alive. Word of advice; don’t go near the barn. It’s going to blow big time and pull in stinkers from everywhere.”

  Stone nodded and the ground beside his foot exploded, making him jump. “That’s one of my snipers. He wants you to show off for him, too,” Lance chuckled, opening the small gate and walking out of it backward. “Head to the house and don’t look back, or you will lose some blood.”

  Watching Lance close the gate, Stone spun around to run for the mobile home. Before reaching the front porch, he skidded to a stop, seeing a box beside the front door with a blinking light. “You fuckers are so dead,” he growled, easing up on the deck. Seeing six blocks with C4 printed on them, Stone broke out in a cold sweat.

  Opening the door very carefully, Stone walked inside, and Lance spun around, taking off in a sprint. “On the way,” he called out, grabbing his PTT.

  “Covering,” Ian called back, trying not to laugh. “Man, that was some good shit.”

  Lance grinned under his mask, running through the trees. Glancing up the slope, he saw Ian and Lilly running down with Dino leading them. Ian and Lilly reached the buggy before Lance. Never pausing, Lilly jumped behind the steering wheel while Ian jumped in the passenger seat.

  When Lance jumped in the back Lilly took off, throwing Lance into the seat. “I’m not in yet!” Lance snapped, getting situated as Lilly sped up the slope.