Robson leaned forward and tapped Tibor on the shoulder. “Drop me off by the door. I can take it from there.”
Tibor snarled. Veering to the left, he swung the Humvee around the front of the school bus. Robson cursed to himself when he realized he had left open the folding glass doors. When Tibor stopped, Robson jumped out. Something caught on the door latch. With a yank of his hips, he pulled himself free, slammed shut the Humvee’s door, and bounded onto the school bus. Grabbing the door handle bar, he slammed it shut. A quick glance in the side mirrors showed the nearby rotters converging on both vehicles. The folding doors would only hold them for a few seconds. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he brushed away the swarm of flies around his head and reached for the ignition key.“Fuck!”
The ignition was already set in the ON position. He remembered he had left the engine running when they dropped off the bus. It had used up all of its gasoline. He had to get back to the Humvee. Robson headed for the door. Three rotters had moved into the space between the two vehicles. Even though their attention focused on the Humvee, they still trapped him inside. He wished he had brought along his AA-12. As Robson reached for his Colt detective .38 special, two things happened he did not expect.
The Humvee pulled away.
The moan of rotters echoed from the interior of the school bus.
* * *
Just as Robson closed the door to the school bus, three rotters emerged from around the vehicle’s corners, two from the front and one from the rear. Dravko wanted to get out so he could clear them away, but the first pair was too close. One wore a yellow rubber fishermen’s coat and sported a heavy beard caked in gore. It ran its hands across the window, smearing the surface with decayed skin. It snapped its jaws at Dravko. When its mouth hit the glass, several teeth tore loose, ripping out chunks of gum that stuck to the window. The other two rotters closed around the door.
Tibor pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Humvee shot forward, knocking the three back against the school bus. Once free from the threat, Tibor did not slow down.
Dravko’s attention switched between the school bus behind him and to Tibor. “What are you doing? You can’t leave Robson behind.”
Tibor said nothing and continued down Commerce Street.
* * *
Robson aimed his firearm down the length of the bus. It was too dark to see anything clearly. In the limited light from the Humvee’s taillights he could make out three, maybe four, shapes approaching. Aiming as best he could, Robson fired a single round. The sound of a bullet striking bone and the collapse of the shadow told him he had scored a hit. Switching his aim, Robson fired again. The shadow jerked back and kept on coming. Another shot and the shadow dropped to its knees and fell forward. Moving the Colt toward the last shadow, he fired off a fourth round. The shadow swayed to one side and dropped to the floor.
The sound of the folding doors being pried open drew Robson’s attention back to the front. The three rotters that had swarmed the Humvee had turned to attack the school bus. The one in a yellow fishermen’s coat had pushed against the centerline, opening it enough for the other two to get their hands inside. Only the weight of the first rotter against the glass prevented them from opening it. Sliding the firearm into his belt, Robson grabbed the support bar by the front seats for leverage and slammed his right foot onto the center frame of the folding door. The jamb closed around the fingers of the two rotters. They didn’t withdraw them. Robson kicked again. This time a finger broke off. The door opened wider, and one of the rotters tried to shove its head inside. Removing the Colt from his belt and placing it against the rotter’s forehead, Robson squeezed the trigger. Within the confines of the school bus, the blast was deafening. The rotter’s head exploded and the limp body fell back, releasing its grip. Rushing forward, Robson slammed his weight against the door, shutting it with such force that he severed the fingers of the other rotter, each one plopping to the floor like pieces of dead meat.
With the door now secure, Robson leaned his weight into it and braced his feet against the steps. At best, he had a few minutes before enough rotters swarmed the door that he couldn’t hold them back. He would deal with Dravko and Tibor later. Right now he needed to call DeWitt to come get him. Reaching for his belt, he realized his radio was gone. He frantically felt around, hoping maybe it had shifted with all his moving, but couldn’t find it. Then he remembered something getting caught on the door of the Humvee. Checking the pavement outside, he saw his radio on the ground.
“Fuck!” Robson slammed his hand against the glass.
* * *
At the rear of the school bus, the third rotter grabbed one of the seat backs and lifted itself up. It had not been shot by Robson. It had stumbled over the corpse in front of it just as he had fired, falling to the floor as the bullet thumped harmlessly into its shoulder. Climbing to its feet, it made its way toward the noise at the front of the bus.
* * *
“Tibor!” Dravko grabbed the vampire’s forearm and squeezed tight. “What the fuck are you doing? We can’t leave Robson there to die!”
Tibor stopped the Humvee five hundred feet away from the bus. The two glared at each other. Dravko struggled not to morph into his vampire form. At the first sign of aggression from Tibor he would tear out his throat. As the standoff went down inside the vehicle, rotters gathered outside. Dead hands slapped against the metal and scratched the glass, trying to get at the food. Within a minute, most of the living dead in the area had closed around the Humvee. Without taking his eyes off of Dravko, Tibor shifted into reverse and backed the Humvee toward the school bus. He glanced behind him to maneuver the vehicle behind the bus, stopping when within a few feet of the rear bumper. The maneuver left the rotters down the road. En masse, they turned and followed the Humvee.
“There’s a chain in the trunk,” said Tibor. “Attach it to the school bus and we’ll pull it to safety.”
Knowing he only had seconds to act, Dravko jumped out and raced around to the rear of the vehicle. As he opened the trunk, he half expected to find it empty and have Tibor drive away. To his surprise, a twenty-foot tow chain with twin hooks on either end lay rolled up. Grabbing one end, he attached it to the tow hitch on the Humvee. Taking the other end, Dravko dropped to the ground, crawled under the bus, and wrapped it around the axle and crankshaft. Once secured, he crawled out. The nearest rotter was less than fifty feet away.
Jumping back into the Humvee, Dravko closed the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
Robson heard the moan a split second before he saw the shadow move. He hadn’t heard it approach because of the noise outside, and now it stood a few feet away. With not enough time to aim, he raised the Colt close to his chest and fired a single round into the rotter’s sternum. The force of the shot caused it to stagger back. Extending his arm and aiming at its head, Robson fired his last round. The skull exploded, showering the far side of the bus in brains and gore. He was safe for the moment.
He was also out of bullets.
Another noise at the rear of the bus caught his attention. He leaned forward to check in back, afraid he would find more rotters. Instead, he saw the Humvee backing up. Just in time, too. Four more rotters had gathered around the door to the bus. They were pushing to get inside, and his back and legs were buckling under the pressure. He saw Dravko jump out and attach both ends of the tow line, then get back in the Humvee. The vehicle drove away. A moment later, the bus jerked when the towline pulled taut. The rotters against the door fell away, and Robson’s back slammed against the glass when the pressure let up. He sighed, every muscle in his body protesting the strain of the last few minutes.
The two vehicles crept along Commerce Street and through downtown Portland. Rotters closed around them, though not enough to impede their progress. For twenty tense minutes, Robson stood in the stairwell of the bus, his back against the door to prevent any stray living dead from getting in, anticipating either being swarmed to a stand
still, the towline breaking, or Dravko and Tibor abandoning him. Not until they pulled onto the ramp leading to the Cisco Bay Bridge did he breathe a sigh of relief.
Glancing out the windshield, he saw that only a handful of rotters bothered following them, more than enough for DeWitt and Simmons to handle.
Moving over to the driver’s seat, Robson sat down to wait out the rest of the journey.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
They made it back to the warehouse a few hours before dawn. Once out of Portland, the rest of the trip had been easy. They had stopped on the southern approach of the Cisco Bay Bridge to unhook the towline and transfer gas from the other vehicles. The few rotters that had followed had been dispatched by Simmons and Wayans. Once the bus had enough gas, the convoy made its way to Gilmanton.
When they pulled into the parking lot of the construction company, Jennifer ran out of the garage. Caslow followed her out and hovered around the door, embarrassed to join the others. Robson pulled the bus alongside the building and stopped. When he opened the folding door, Jennifer bounded up the steps, slowing when she reached the landing.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It took you so long to come back I thought…” She sniffed a few times, and turned toward the rear of the bus. Her eyes widened when she saw the three corpses on the floor. “Jesus, what happened?”
“I’ll tell you over breakfast.” Robson placed a hand on Jennifer’s shoulder and led her off the bus.
She smiled. “Who’s going to clean it up?”
Robson nodded toward Caslow. “Maybe it’s about time he pitched in.”
“It’s probably as close he’ll ever get to them.”
Tibor brushed past them and stormed into the garage. Caslow saw the vampire approach and jumped aside, disappearing around the corner of the building. Robson glanced over his shoulder. Dravko stood by the specialized Humvee, his expression distraught. Robson halted.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked.
“I need to talk to Dravko. I’ll be inside in a few.”
Jennifer headed back to the garage, and Robson walked over to Dravko. The vampire leaned against the Humvee and averted his gaze, which meant they hadn’t planned on leaving him in Portland. Well, at least Dravko hadn’t. He took a deep breath as he approached.
Fear and worry tinted Dravko’s eyes. “I have no idea what happened back there. I think Tibor planned on leaving you.”
“Are you certain?”
Dravko shook his head. “That’s the thing. I asked him if that was his intention. He never answered, but he did stop and go back for you. I don’t know if he planned on leading the rotters away from you so he could go back and attach the towline, or if he planned on abandoning you.”
“What would you have done if he did mean to leave me?”
Dravko stiffened his back, not in anger but in determination. “Then either Tibor or I would have died in Portland.”
“Thanks for having my back.”
“I may not always have it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever since we got back from Site R, Tibor has been talking about leaving the group and setting out on our own, rebuilding the coven and eventually the vampire nation. He’s convinced that if we don’t do it now, before you humans use the vaccine to stop the rotters, then our species will be wiped out along with them.”
“Do you agree with him?”
Dravko sighed. “As the only remaining vampires, we are an endangered species. However, I’ve lived among you so long I can’t go back to hunting humans for food.”
“I take it Tibor doesn’t see things the same way.”
“No. The only concession he’s willing to make is that, after what we’ve all gone through together, he won’t turn any of you. He’s adamant about leaving the group and rebuilding the coven with other humans. So far I’ve been able to keep him under control. Since we’re the only two of our kind left, my authority is wearing thin. I’m afraid the first chance he gets, Tibor is going to kill me off and turn on your group.”
Robson had not thought about that before. They had grown accustomed to living with the undead these past nine months, and had taken it for granted that under Elena’s leadership the vampires had assimilated into human culture. It seemed only natural that, as a species, they would want to avoid extinction. The only way Dravko and Tibor could accomplish that was if Robson gave his blessing for them to go off on their own to prey on humans and rebuild the coven. Robson knew he couldn’t allow that, couldn’t spend so many lives wiping out one species of creature to turn around and allow another one to thrive, even if he had come to know them personally and respect them. Ironically, because he knew and respected them he couldn’t slaughter Dravko and Tibor in cold blood. Based on what Dravko had just told him, he might have to.
While Robson contemplated his next move, Dravko made eye contact. The vampire must have seen the concern in his friend’s eyes because he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve already made up my mind to take down Tibor if he becomes an immediate threat to me or any of you.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to make that decision.”
“We both know I will. If not now, sometime down the road.”
Robson pitied the dilemma his friend faced. “This must be a horrible decision for you.”
“It is, but it’s inevitable. My species can’t live in this world we created. Maybe it’s time we died out.” Dravko laughed sullenly. “Ironic, isn’t it? We created our own extinction event.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Natalie woke up slowly, that long process when you emerge from a dream into reality. She was aware of the gentle rocking of the yacht underneath her, and the soft rays of morning light shining through the porthole. For one blissful moment, she imagined herself aboard a cruise ship, waking up beside Robson. As the fog of sleep wore off, it struck her that she was aboard a yacht traveling along a dead coast trying to get a vaccine to a government-in-exile deep inside a rotter-infested country. She wanted to bury her head into the pillow and sob.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the deck above her. Natalie’s eyes shot open in anticipation of the inevitable yelling and gunfire. It never happened. The sound continued, now in a pattern. Swinging her legs out of bed, Natalie put on her boots, grabbed her M-16A2, and made her way topside.
To her surprise, she found the Angels lined up in three rows and engaged in jumping jacks, each one stripped down to their panties and t-shirts. Ari faced them, keeping cadence. Once they reached twenty, Ari ordered them to drop. Lying prone with their feet together and their hands flush on the deck and level with their shoulders, they began a series of pushups, again with Ari leading the cadence. This time the Angels performed fifteen reps of double pushups, and then jumped to their feet. Ari told them to take a breather.
Ari glanced over and saw Natalie standing by the hatch and grinned. “About time you woke up.”
“How long have I been asleep?” Natalie asked as she crossed the deck.
“Sixteen hours.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t worry. You needed the rest.”
Natalie tried to hide her embarrassment about showing such weakness. She turned to the rest of the Angels. “What’s going on here?”
“You were right yesterday,” replied Ari. “We’ve become sloppy.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You should have because it’s true. We let what happened at Site R get the better of us. We have to reverse that.”
“With calisthenics?” Natalie joked.
Ari grinned. “It’s a start. Besides, we have to make sure we look good in our uniforms when we meet the President.”
Natalie laughed. The other Angels took that opportunity to move forward and greet her, letting her know that they harbored no ill feelings about the previous day’s dressing down. For the first time in almost two weeks, the women acted l
ike their old selves. It felt good. Although Natalie wouldn’t show it, deep down she wanted to cry. Once again her girls had risen to the occasion. For the first time since setting out from Portland, she began to feel like they might just pull this off.
The Angels enjoyed the moment for only a few minutes before Emily called out from the flying bridge. “Sorry to break this up. You’ll want to come up here.”
Natalie felt her emotions sink. “Coming.”
She made her way to the bridge, followed by Ari and the rest of the Angels. Ari grabbed the binoculars when she reached the steering house.
“What’s up?” Natalie asked, standing beside Emily.
“We’re about to round the southern tip of Florida. I estimate we’re twenty-five to thirty miles west of Key Largo.” She pointed ahead of them to a land formation that stretched along the horizon. “My guess is those are the Keys.”
The yacht sailed closer. The land formation took on a more defined shape into a series of islands ranging in length from several hundred yards to several miles, each connected to the other by an elevated highway spanning the water. When the yacht got to within a mile, the Angels could make out buildings dotting the islands. Thousands of vehicles generated a traffic jam along the elevated highway that extended as far to east and west as they could see.
“What is it?” asked Tiara.
“It’s the Overseas Highway,” Emily answered. “It runs from Key Largo to Stock Island, a distance of about one hundred miles, and connects the Keys.”
Josephine shook her head. “It looks like everyone had the same idea. Make it to the islands where they’d be safe from the outbreak.”
“That didn’t work out too well,” Sandy said sarcastically.
Rotter World (Book 2): Rotter Nation Page 18