Torn Apart (Book 2): Dead Texas Roads

by Hoaks, C. A.

  “Slow and easy, folks,” Brian whispered. “And be quiet.”

  Brian hurried across the parking lot with Paula and Billy close on his heels. Following them was Leon clinging to Margo’s arm. Juan, with Dale, in tow, began lagging further behind with each step.

  Dale gasped for breath. Juan slowed and motioned at the insurance salesman to move more quickly.

  When Dale caught up to him, Juan whispered with a voice tinged with irritation, “Want another cigarette? Hurry the fuck up!”

  Brian and the group had gotten ten yards before the first infected noticed them. He unlocked the doors with a push of the button on the key fob. “Move it, people!”

  The click of the button sounded loud with the deafening quiet of the city. Billy, still holding Paula’s hand, veered off to the left when he saw the blink of parking lights on the truck.

  An infected woman stumbled from behind a mini-van and headed for the group. Three more infected took notice and turned to make a bee-line across the parking lot toward them.

  “They’re coming! We have to go back,” Margo shrieked.

  “The door locked behind us. Run faster, woman,” Leon ordered, just as Margo stumbled and jerked from his grasp.

  She fell to her knees, dropping the chair leg with a loud thud on the asphalt. Leon reached down, and yelled, “Get up and run!”

  He took three quick steps toward the infected woman and swung his metal chair leg. The heavy metal made contact with the side of the infected woman’s head. A patch of scalp peeled off her head as it jerked to the side but she remained standing. Leon back stepped to take another swing only to stumble into Dale.

  Juan, seeing what was happening, sidestepped, avoiding the tangle of legs when both men went down. He raised his metal bar and slammed it down on the infected woman’s head, and she collapsed on top Leon’s legs. Juan reached down and jerked the body off Leon and pulled him to his feet.

  “Come on amigo,” Juan ordered.

  Leon turned to Margo still screaming, still crumpled on the asphalt, and swung out with an open hand. He slapped the side of her face. “Shut up and get up, or we’re leaving you.”

  The slap silenced her screeching. Leon turned and pulled Dale to his feet. “Move it, man!” Both men headed for the truck.

  Juan grabbed Margo’s arm and pulled her to her feet, then released her. She picked up the improvised weapon and ran after Leon, Dale, and Juan toward the truck.

  “In the truck, now!” Brian called out as he readied to face another infected.

  The gray-fleshed man dressed in a shredded white shirt covered in dark splotches of dried blood snarled as he raised his arms and reached toward Brian.

  “Not likely!” Brian roared back as he kicked out and caved in the man’s knee. When he went down, a quick thrust of Brian’s knife into the eye socket put the monster down.

  Billy got to the passenger side of the pickup. He jerked the door open and ordered, “Get in and get over.”

  While Margo scrambled into the cab, Billy turned to slam his table leg into the head of a blood and gore covered child monster.

  Leon got to the truck and threw the canvas bag over the edge of the bed. He glanced around, then stepped on the extended hub of the back wheel and vaulted into the truck. He turned just in time to see Dale’s reached the top of the bed with Juan pushing at his wide butt.

  Dale grunted and hung there, unable to pull his own weight into the bed. Leon grabbed his collar and the waist of his pants to haul him into the truck. Leon dropped Dale leaving him still panting from over-exertion.

  Brian intercepted another monster as it made its way around the front bumper of the truck. He stepped out and swung a table leg into the monster’s legs. When the infected woman went down, he slammed the table leg down hard on her skull.

  “Don’t leave me. Help!” Margo slammed her hands against the side of the truck, then reached up, trying to step up on the wheel.

  Brian turned around and frowned. “Guys? Gotta go!”

  “We got it,” Leon called out.

  Brian climbed into the cab and behind the wheel, while Leon grabbed Margo’s arm and jerked her into the bed of the truck. He turned to swing his table leg at three infected trying to reach over the tailgate.

  Juan jumped to the top of the wheel and climbed into the bed of the pickup. He hurried Margo toward the roll bar, while Leon pulled Dale to lean against the cab.

  Brian cranked the engine, and the big truck roared to life. He slammed the truck into gear and raced the engine.

  Billy slid open the window at the back of the cab. “Good to go back there?” He called out.

  Leon slammed a hand on the hood. “Get us out of here. We’re drawing a crowd.”

  “Hang on!”

  Brian stomped on the accelerator, and the truck bowled over three infected. The cluster of infected, pounding at the side of the truck bed, were quickly left behind. Margo yelped in surprise, and Leon slid an arm around her waist while she grabbed the roll bar.

  Juan laughed and swung a chair leg at the head of an infected man with dreadlocks as they drove past. The impact crushed the side of the man’s head and sent him reeling away.

  “Home run!” Juan laughed.

  Chapter 23

  Control

  Major William Bishop stormed into the mayor’s office with the Lieutenant close on his heels. “What in the fuck was that, Mason?” Bishop scowled at Lieutenant Sean Mason. “Griggs would have managed the situation a hell of a lot better. I told you no trouble before we had the place locked down.”

  “Bastard grabbed at my gun,” Mason protested as he swiped his blood-splattered hand against his pants leg.

  Bishop raised his hands in frustration. “Fuck it.” He cursed, then settled in the mayor’s plush chair leaned back and put his feet on top of the desk, “They would have gotten their shorts in a knot anyway soon enough. Now they know who’s in charge.”

  “I put the city council in the holding cell in the basement,” Mason announced.

  “Good. Close the windows. Let it warm up down there. No food or water until tomorrow night. That ought to soften them up. Meanwhile, get men on the gates. No one comes or goes without my authorization.”

  “What about the mid-day meal?” Mason asked.

  “Go ahead and open the mess hall at one. Put up a sign announcing all residents are required to register with the military office starting tomorrow morning. Set up something on the first floor to facilitate registration. Get a couple men over to the office supply and pick up shit to make ID cards. ”

  Mason answered, “We can use locals to do the paperwork. But why do you want to know who’s here?”

  “Assets or liabilities. We need to get names, ages, where they’re living and any practical skills.”

  “And then?” Mason asked.

  “We issue ID cards. We control who consumes resources. It’ll also let me know who could be trouble and give us a chance to head it off.”

  “Good idea. If folks wanna eat, they’ll have to sign up.” Mason laughed.

  “Exactly,” Bishop answered. “Meanwhile, get a couple men out to the guard posts. Send that little prick, Carter in here. He’ll serve as my aid.”

  “No problem. He’s downstairs.”

  “When folks go to eat, find half a dozen office drones and set them up in the front office on the first floor. Make sure they have enough computer skills to set up the ID system. I want registration to begin first thing in the morning.” Mason got up to leave, and Bishop called out, “Tell Carter to bring me back some lunch.”

  Three hours later six women stood in front of Bishop including Sandy. “Who can use a computer and a spreadsheet?” Two of the women raised their hands. “The rest of you have office skills?”

  All four nodded. Bishop pointed to an older woman. “Where did you work?”

  “The medical clinic,” a middle-aged woman answered.

  “Good. You’ll go with one of my men and inventory the drug room
. I want the list by tomorrow morning. Get out.” Bishop tossed Mason a key ring. “Get someone to go with her.”

  Mason pushed at the woman’s back and guided her toward the door. He disappeared for a few minutes then returned.

  “All taken care of, sir.”

  Bishop stared at the rest of the women for a full minute. “You have until tomorrow morning to develop a plan to register all residents and have the ability to issue ID cards within the next twenty-four hours. You will be expected to get the registration and issuance completed by the evening meal on Wednesday. Then, any resident without an ID card will not eat.” He paused, then added, “Any questions?”

  “What do you want on the ID card?” A woman with copper-colored hair asked.

  “Where did you work?” Bishop asked.

  “Downstairs. DMV office.”

  “Good. You know your way around here. You’re in charge until you screw it up, Red.” Bishop continued, “I want names, picture, ages, addresses, family members, and useful skills in a database. The ID is to include a photo, first and last name, and space for assignment or job classification under the name.”

  “You can’t expect that overnight.” Red protested.

  “You have four hours to come up with a sample registration form and IDs.”

  Red gave a quick nod and turned to the door, then stopped and turned back. “My name is Angie, not Red. I’ll help, but these girls are not to be harassed by your men. That dick-head and his men have been leering at them since we walked into the building.”

  Bishop burst out laughing. “Fair enough. My staff,” He used his arm to indicate the small gathering of women. “is off limits. Mason, pass it along to the men.”

  “Yes, sir.” He made a sloppy salute.

  Angie gave a quick nod. “Thank you.” She turned and left the room with the other women, still looking a little shell-shocked, following behind.

  Bishop stood up and walked to an overstuffed couch just as Mason stepped into the office with another soldier carrying a covered tray following behind. “Your lunch, sir.”

  Carter walked into the office, set the tray down, and Bishop reached to uncover the dishes. He placed the napkin aside and jammed the fork into the pasta and sauce. Around a mouthful of spaghetti, he looked up at Carter and ordered. “Clear my desk, including the drawers. Throw all that shit into a box and get it outta here.” He dismissed Carter with a tilt of his head then went back to his meal.

  He turned to Mason. “Get rid of the shit on the south end of the school down by the gym showers and transform it into a barracks. Get half a dozen men and find furniture and twin mattresses in the empty houses. Use a truck. Get some of the women to do the laundry. I want clean clothes and this bunch of dipshits looking like soldiers again.”

  Mason chuckled. “Some of the boys are getting a little ripe, that’s for damned sure.”

  “There’s a two-story house behind the courthouse and across the street from the school. You, and I will be moving in this evening. If anyone is living there, move them out.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  An engine roared to a stop in front of the town hall, and Mason stepped to the window. He watched a man pull his bulk from the vehicle.

  “It’s the fat sheriff from the gate,” Mason commented.

  Bishop tilted his head toward the door. “Tell Carter to stall the dick-head until I finish my lunch. Make sure a couple men are outside the door to enforce it and make sure there’s not a chair.”

  Mason disappeared, then stepped back into the room. Bishop took his time as he enjoyed the meal. When he was finished, he got to his feet and walked to the window and looked down at the entrance to the school across the street.

  A small gathering of civilians had arrived at the cafeteria for the noon meal. They stood around, apparently discussing the sign now posted at the door. Angry glares were turned toward the town hall from time to time.

  Bishop turned back to Mason. “Let him in.”

  Mason opened the door, and Ollie Ford charged into the room. “What the fuck is going on here? I’ve been told the city council is in the holding cell in the basement. There were shots fired. Townsfolks assaulted?”

  “Sheriff Ford!” Bishop interrupted. The sheriff fell silent, and Bishop continued, “Now if you are calm we can discuss the fact your city council attempted to assault me, the rightful authority under martial law. As a result, there were shots fired.”

  Chapter 24

  Escape

  Liz kneeled next to Harry and unlaced his boot. She pulled an elastic wrap from her bag and swathed his ankle before it could swell more. Harry cringed when she tore off the end and jerked his foot.

  “Is it too tight?” Liz asked as she slipped his boot back on his foot.

  “No. It’s fine,” Harry responded, as he leaned down and tucked the laces into the top of the boot. “How are YOU doing? Are you okay? Is the baby alright?” He sat up and studied the scratches on her arm.

  “We’re okay. What happened?” Liz asked.

  John held his side while he gulped water from a plastic bottle. “They probably wanted supplies. They probably weren’t expecting someone on a bike. If they had been, they would have put the steel cable neck-high. That would have been ugly for us.” He chuckled. “It didn’t do much good with all those glass jars.” He spilled water over a red handkerchief and dabbed at the abrasion on his arm. He wiped his face, then brushed gravel chips from his pants leg.

  “It’s a miracle none of us ended up with broken bones.” Harry picked up his bag. “Let’s find a place to hunker down.”

  Liz rose and brushed gravel from her pants, then pointed at a distant sign mounted on a structure. “There, behind that fence.”

  Both men stood and looked to where she pointed. Dozens of campers were parked on a massive sales lot.”

  “Happy Holiday Camper Extravaganza?” John asked.

  “Why not? We’re at least a couple miles from the assholes that ambushed us. They have no way of knowing which direction we’ve been going and besides that, it’s late enough they won’t follow us if they’re smart. They’ll clean out what they can and get back to their hidey-hole.” Harry answered, “Maybe we’ll find a vehicle with enough gas in the tank to get the fuck outta here.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Liz answered with a shrug.

  Harry got to his feet and picked up his pack. “It’s more of a plan than we had before. Let’s go.”

  Harry led John and Liz down an alley, across a blacktop to the gate of the Happy Holiday Camper yard. When John reached for the lock, Harry pulled his hand back. He pointed to a pickup sitting at the side of the hurricane fence.

  “Let’s go over the fence. If anyone comes sniffing around the gates, it will still be intact. Hopefully, they won’t figure there’s a reason to get inside.”

  Harry climbed into the bed of the truck. He reached down, picked up a rubber mat from the bed of the truck and threw it over the barbed wire strands at the top of the eight-foot fencing. Pulling down at the edges, he nodded at John. “You first.”

  John climbed to the top of the cab, grabbed the top of the mat, and pulled himself to the top of the fence with a loud grunt. After hovering there for a second, he swung a right leg over, found a foothold, then swung his other left leg to the inside of the fence. He dropped to the ground, landing hard on his butt. He pulled himself back to his feet groaning.

  Harry nudged Liz. “Let’s go. We’re pretty exposed out here.”

  Liz quickly duplicated John’s maneuver, landing on the ground with a lot more agility and grace than John. She turned to John to give him a smug nod and noticed moisture glistened on his face for the first time since beginning their escape.

  “Are you alright?”

  John whispered, “Might have a couple cracked ribs.”

  Liz and John reached up and grabbed at the mat and held it in place while Harry duplicated their maneuver. When they all three stood at the base of the fence, Harry pull
ed the bed liner off the wire and dragged it behind a camper. He pointed toward the front of the parking lot and a massive building. Three vehicles were parked near the front door. Each had the name of Happy Holiday Camper Extravaganza stenciled on the sides.

  “You think anyone is in the building?” Liz whispered.

  “I think we have to check it out. We don’t have much in the way of food. We can see if there’s a snack machine inside and try to find keys to the vehicles. We can check them out, then get into one of the units at the back of the lot. Watch the lot numbers and let’s get an idea of their numbering system,” Harry advised.

  Still clutching his side, John readied his gun and whispered. “We might be able to siphon gas from the trucks if we don’t find a camper prepped to go.”

  Harry limped toward the building with John and Liz following close behind. He got to the building and looked into a glass window across the front. They could see through the gloom into several cubicles. Everything seemed to be in order. No walking corpses, no blood or evidence of mayhem. He tried the front door.

  Harry turned to the others. “Let’s go around the building and find a better place to get in. Breaking glass will let people know we’re here.”

  He led the way to the side of the building. There he walked to a side door and tried the door knob. It was locked. Harry moved on but nodded toward two sets of head-high windows with glass louvered windows.

  “That might be an option,” Harry whispered then continued to follow the building around to the back to a repair shop. The tall garage doors included glass panels, so they got a good look inside. Nothing moved. They completed the circle of the building and ended back at the front door.

  “Looks good,” Harry announced. “Let’s go back to the bathroom windows.”

  “The bathroom?” Liz questioned.

  “The louvered windows. The only thing it can be. Head high.” Harry grinned. “Venting.” He led the others back around the building to the glass louvered windows with John barely keeping up.