Torn Apart (Book 2): Dead Texas Roads

by Hoaks, C. A.

  After looking over George, Phil gave the man a quick nod then turned back to the older brother and sighed, “Boots off. I want to see your legs and feet.”

  The young man turned to his father, and George protested, “Damn-it! This is bullshit! Open the fucking gate!”

  Chapter 2

  No Honor

  “You’re a disgusting pig!” The female soldier snarled as she struggled against the zip ties being put on her wrists.

  “You made a big mistake, Hill.” Major William Bishop jammed his sidearm back in the holster at his side. He clutched at the secured cuffs and slammed his fist into the young woman’s face.

  Karen Hill fell to the canvas floor of the tent, her lip split, and nose gushing blood. Bright red spilled down her face when she looked up with a defiant set to her jaw. She glared at the officer and snarled “Fuck you!”

  Wiping the streak of blood from the side of his face where Hill had scratched him, Bishop cursed. “You fucking bitch! It’s a new world, and as far as you and everyone else under my command is concerned, my word is law.”

  Bishop grabbed the zip ties holding Hill’s hands together and pulled her to her feet. He pushed open the door flap and threw her from the tent to the trampled grass at the feet of Captain Marcus Griggs. He kicked her clothes through the open flap of the tent into the ditch as he growled an order.

  “Tie her to the back of the supply truck. Anyone wants a piece of ass can have it since she thinks she’s too good to fuck an officer.”

  Griggs, a big, angry, black man, grabbed her by the hair and led her to the tailgate of the canvas-covered truck. He hooked the cuffs with a third zip tie to the bumper, then turned to walk away. He stopped and turned back. “I’ll be back, girlie. Keep it warm for me,” Griggs pulled his knife from its scabbard and slit the sides of Hill’s underwear, then walked away laughing.

  Twenty feet away, two young privates stepped back from the front of the truck pushing three companions deeper into the brush at the side of the road. When Griggs disappeared back into the Major’s tent at the center of the camp, one of the young men turned to the others.

  “We have to get out of here.” Corporal Bailey whispered to the four soldiers behind him.

  “Not without Hill!” A voice answered from the shadows.

  “We get Hill first,” Baily whispered. “Jones, get her clothes from the ditch. Be back here in three minutes. The rest of you get weapons and packs for the six of us. And for Christ sake, don’t get caught.”

  “Bailey, we can’t do this. It’s desertion.”

  “You want to be in this kind of army? Hill’s our squad leader.”

  “Hell, no! You’re right. Bishop and Griggs are crazy.” He turned to the others. “I can get extra ammo. What about the rest of the squad?”

  “You want to bring those two meat-heads with us. They were the reason Hill ended up in the major’s tent. Fuck ém,” the soldier snarled.

  Bailey added, “Watch out for the guards.”

  Seven minutes later, four men and one woman met at the front of the truck. Bailey walked deeper into the brush to make his way to the back of the truck with a multi-tool in his hand. He stopped at the back wheel well and listened for a minute before stepping around the tailgate.

  Only able to see the shadow of a man coming toward her, Hill jumped to her feet and kicked out. “Get out of here, you asshole!” she cursed.

  “Shush…Hill. It’s me, Bailey. We’re getting you out of here.” He cut the zip ties at her wrists. He set her boots on the ground. He held out cotton underwear, cargo pants, and a t-shirt. Hill jerked the shirt from his hands and pulled it over her head. She stepped into the underwear and reached out for the pants. Once she was covered, he held out socks. When she stepped into her boots, Baily dropped to one knee to tighten the laces on her boots and tied knots.

  “Gotta move. Griggs is planning on coming back. We have to be long gone.” Baily whispered.

  “I’m good,” Hill announced.

  They moved into the shadows, and a pale, slender hand gave Hill a damp towel. She wiped at her face. “Thanks.”

  Bailey looked up. “I should have come with you.”

  Through the towel, she whispered, “It wasn’t your fault, and if you’d come along you’d be dead. You did the right thing by not getting involved.” Hill dropped the towel, squared her shoulders, and reached for the extra pack on Bailey’s shoulder, “Let’s move out.”

  Bailey nodded and smiled. “Glad to have you back, ma’am.”

  “Wait,” another voice whispered. “I got these. Thought they might come in handy.” He passed each person a pair of night vision goggles and held up a bag of batteries. “What I left won’t do much good without these.”

  Hill adjusted her pack and reached for a gun belt from another soldier. She buckled the sidearm on her hip. Grinning around her swollen lip, she put on the night vision goggles and headed toward the gloom of the woods. “Move out.”

  Chapter 3

  Camp Verde

  Larry Benson, one of the soldiers protecting the Kerrville camp of survivors, heard someone screaming his name above the chaos of children racing toward the main buildings, as they had been trained to do during a time of danger. All available defenders sprinted toward Carl.

  “Help! Mr. Larry!” Carl, the eighteen-year-old with Downs Syndrome, loped toward Larry as he called out, “Soldiers!” He waved his arms over his head, desperate to attract attention. “Soldiers in trouble.”

  Larry was first to get to Carl with three soldiers from the on-grounds protection team close behind. “What is it?” he held Carl by his shoulders, “Calm down, Carl. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Carl pulled free and grabbed Larry’s sleeve to pull him back the way he had come, “Soldiers down under, and the monsters gonna get ‘em!”

  Still confused, Larry answered. “Show us.”

  Carl stumbled around to run back to the campgrounds toward the barn and livestock pens. Larry and the soldiers followed Carl past the main building and food truck, down a narrow path past the garden to the wooden fence at the edge of the barnyard. Beyond the fence was a steep drop-off overlooking a narrow country road. Larry climbed over the rough-hewn rails. Still gasping for breath, he looked down at the scene below. A rope tied to the nearby fence post hung half way down the face of the bluff.

  Below, six individuals in military gear were perched on a cluster of boulders about forty feet below. The soldiers were barely balanced on the dome-shaped rocks and struggled to maintain their perch while a dozen monsters reached for them. The soldiers were trapped with no place to go. When a reaching hand got too close, a soldier slammed the butt of his rifle on fingers.

  Mark, one of the teens rescued by Larry and two friends, explained breathlessly, “They heard us and started calling for help. Carl heard ‘em, and we tried, but the rope wasn’t long enough.”

  Larry answered. “You did fine. Now let’s see what we can do to help them.” He leaned over and called out. “Yo, soldiers!”

  The yelling suddenly stopped, and faces looked up. “We need help.” A female voice answered. “We’re outta ammunition.”

  Larry called back. “Stay frosty for another five. We’re gonna help.”

  “Yes, sir,” answered a female voice.

  Larry gave his men instructions. Two headed to the barn, one loosened the rope tied to the post while he jogged to the pasture. At the fence, he whistled once. Bessie, a large-boned, chestnut mare with a gentle temperament, strolled across the paddock to stand by the fence. Larry pulled a bridle from a fence post and slid it on Bessie’s head. He led the horse to the barn just in time to see one of the soldiers step out with a harness in hand.

  The soldier slipped the harness over Bessie’s neck and buckled the leather traces in place. A second soldier brought another coil of rope from the tack room and hurried to the fence where Mark had pulled up his twenty foot of line. Larry backed Bessie close to the rail fencing, then tied the rope to the harne
ss. He used a square knot to add the second length to the first and tied a loop at the bottom.

  Stepping over the fence, Larry walked to the edge of the overhang and tossed the coil of the rope toward the soldiers below. The first attempt fell short. One of the men reached out and would have slipped from the boulder if not for his fellow soldiers. Larry yelled. “Wait for it!”

  A female voice below echoed. “You heard the man! Bailey, do the catching. We’ve come too far to screw up now.”

  Larry pulled the rope back up and coiled the end again. He made another toss, but again, it fell short. Larry cursed under his breath, coiled the rope, and the rope arched away from the cliff and dropped toward the soldiers. He held his breath as the line fell and one of the soldiers reached up and caught the loop.

  Larry called down, “One at a time. Put the loop under your arms, and when the loop gets tight, I’ll give the word, and we’ll pull fast, so you swing clear. Use your legs to catch yourself to walk up the rock-face, or it’s going to be a rough trip.”

  Larry watched as a female soldier slipped the loop over her head and settled it under her arms. She slung her rifle and pack over her back and grasped the rope in one hand and gave Larry a quick thumbs-up.

  “Remember what we talked about, Carl. Fast, then slow.”

  Carl nodded then graced Larry with a broad smile and grabbed the bridle. “Bessie and Carl gonna do a good job!”

  “Now!” Larry waved Carl into action.

  Carl jerked the bridle and pulled Bessie into action as he ordered. “Run, Bessie!”

  The rope grew taut, and the female soldier was jerked off of the rock and swung toward the rock face of the cliff. She hit the dirt and rock and bounced hard, but well above the infected’s reach.

  Larry called out, “Easy now, Carl.”

  “Woh, Bessie.” Carl pulled back on the bridle, and the mares slowed to a walk.

  The soldier swung out, and her’s boots hit the loose caliche and scrub grass. She walked her way up the bluff, crested the rim, and Larry reached out to pull her to solid ground. He called back over his shoulder, “ Got it, Carl. Back up now.”

  Carl pulled the bridle, and Bessie stopped. He pushed against the big mare and ordered with a big smile. “Back Bessie. Good Bessie. Gotta go back now.”

  One by one, the next three soldiers made their way up the bluff. When Larry tossed the rope again, the two remaining soldiers began passing the line back and forth. A discussion ensued that none of those on the bluff could hear.

  The infected stumbled and reached up while the last two soldiers continued their heated discussion. The female soldier used the butt of her rifle to smash in the head of an infected that got too close then pushed the rope at the male soldier again. The infected had grown more and more agitated as they watched their prey escape. The monsters clambered and climbed over each other trying to get at the remaining soldiers.

  Suddenly a shot rang out when one of the infected grabbed the leg of the female soldier.

  Larry glared down at the pair and yelled, “Leader, get your soldier on the rope, or I’ll leave you both down there for the night.”

  “Yes, sir,” Answered the female soldier.

  “Bailey, now. That’s an order!”

  Bailey stepped into the circle, and the rope jerked from the boulder. He slammed against the rock face and was pulled upward, scrapping his way up the rocks, against the dirt and scrub grass. When Bailey was half way up the bluff, another shot rang out Baily looked down.

  Karen Hill was kicking against a rotted hand clutching her ankle.

  “Down!” Bailey called out, “Put me down!” He continued to rise, despite yelling at the men saving him. He got to the rim and pulled himself over the edge and freed his foot from the rope loop. “Give me ammo!”

  Larry ordered, “Someone kill that shitbag!”

  A shot rang out but missed the infected clinging to Hill’s boot. She was pulled off her feet.

  Larry snarled,” Kill that fuck!”

  The man fired again, and the infected fell to the ground.

  “Watch it, Hill,” Bailey called out.

  Hill got to her knees and yelled, “Toss the rope! Time to get the hell outta here!” She kicked at another monster trying to reach up to her foot.

  Larry tossed the rope and Hill caught it. She slid the loop over her head and settled it under her arms when suddenly another shot rang out. The infected woman’s head exploded sending a spray of blood and brains out in an arch of gore. Hill jumped back and a second infected climbed over the bodies of the dead and grabbed Hill’s leg.

  The sudden shift of weight threw Hill off balance. She stumbled over the edge of the boulder. The rope scraped against her face as she grabbed for it with both hands.

  Bailey pulled his rifle from his shoulder and yelled, “Ammo, I need ammo!”

  A magazine sailed in his direction, and he caught it mid-air. He pulled the empty magazine from the weapon and slapped the load in place. He took aim and fired. The hand clinging to Hill’s ankle fell away, and she slammed against the wall of rocks and clay.

  Larry called out to Carl, “Forward, Carl. Fast!” Then he turned back to see the last soldier clinging to the face of the bluff, within easy reach of the monsters. “Hang on, don’t let go.”

  Carl panicked at the yelling and jerked at the bridle, spurring Bessie into a quick trot forgetting to slow after the initial rush.

  Hill faceplanted into the dirt and scraped against the rock as she rose toward the overhang at a harried rate. She bounced against gravel and dirt, unable to get her feet in front of her as she rose toward the rim of the bluff.

  “Easy, Carl. Slow down,” Larry called over his shoulder.

  When Hill got to the rim, Larry grabbed the shoulder strap of her pack and pulled her to safety, then turned back to the others. “Kill the rest of them, then burn the bodies.”

  Hill pulled the rope over her head and pulled herself into a solute. “Squad Leader Karen Hill, sir.”

  Chapter 4

  Work The Plan

  Finding food for the ever-growing camp population left Matt Monroe, the leader of the rag-tag group of soldiers that now protected and cared for the children they had rescued when abandoned by a rogue army officer, was a full-time job. Jake Curtis, a longtime friend, and fellow soldier suggested gathering supplies from abandoned rail cars sitting on a track nearby. The cars were filled with grocery supplies headed for San Antonio. Now with two other soldiers, they faced the challenge of retrieving the supplies.

  “It’s so fucking big,” Jenkins, another soldier, and friend of Matt’s commented.

  “No shit,” Jake agreed.

  Matt gave a low whistle as he parked the Humvee in front of the office. He glanced across the vehicle yard toward the massive crane mounted on the vehicle. “You sure you can operate it?”

  Dreschel grinned. “Got it covered.”

  “Then let’s find the keys,” Matt answered.

  The men climbed out of the Humvee, stretching stiff muscles. Squaring his shoulders, Matt carried a bolt cutter to the gate and cut the padlock shank. Once the Humvee pulled onto the lot, he tossed the lock aside then closed the gate and wrapped the chain between the two sections of hurricane fencing.

  “Roamers won’t be able to get in, but if we need to leave in a hurry, the hit of a bumper will open the gate easy enough,” Matt announced.

  Jake pulled away from the gate and parked the Humvee at the manager’s office. Matt walked across the parking lot to meet the others at the business office.

  They stood outside the office door, while Jake used the handle of his machete to tap at the glass. He shaded his eyes with his hand and peered into the gloom. Finally, Jake made a fist and pounded twice against the door rattling it in the frame. He leaned close to listen. Hearing nothing, he pulled at the door handle, and the door opened.

  Jake looked over his shoulder and shrugged, “It looks empty. You want to break the glass?”

  “L
et’s keep it intact if we can,” Matt passed him a crowbar. “We may want to come back for something else.”

  Jake wedged the end of his crowbar between the door and jam. He leaned into the bar, and the jam gave way with a groan of metal. The door frame began to warp, and with a grunt, the door wrenched from the frame. Jake pulled the door open and stepped inside, with Matt and Jenkins close on his heels.

  They quickly cleared the reception area and rifled through drawers and cabinets looking for vehicle keys. When they came up empty, they headed toward a door leading deeper into the darkened depths of the building.

  Matt stepped to the door and tapped against the hollow core barrier. When he heard nothing, he shrugged, “I guess we do this same as before.”

  He pulled a headlamp from his cargo pants and slipped it over his head. He nodded at Jake and the others, and they followed suit. He advised, “Be ready.”

  Matt turned the knob and pushed against the door. He stuck his head inside and strained to hear any hint of movement within. He took a step into the hall and paused to listen again. The only sound he could hear was the breathing of the men behind him in the thick silence.

  He studied turned his head from side to side in the gloom and saw three doorways on each side of the hall. At the end of the corridor was a glass door opening into what looked like a repair shop of some kind. The last door on the right stood open, while the rest were closed.

  Matt nodded toward the open door, “Jake and I clear the open room first. Dreschel and Jenkins, watch our six.”

  Matt and Jake made their way down the hall to the open door and peeked inside. A moment later, they stepped into an empty break room. They could see the small kitchenette was pristine, despite the limited light coming through the head-high window on the back wall. Clean coffee mugs rested upside down in a drain rack. A coffee pot sat next to the mugs, ready to make the next morning brew. Matt ignored the refrigerator and pointed to the stack of bottled water next to it.