Luther had to take it easy, too much weight in one spot would send him overboard. “Whut!” The ground before him exploded. A battered fist busted through the plank he was about to step over. He was ready for it when the head poked through; he blew off the Z’s slimy head.
Justin hadn’t returned to help; he was too busy shooting at something. Luther followed the tracks around the bend in time to see an entire horde of X-strains climbing to the top of the bridge from below.
Warily, he selected his shots, pivoting in awkward angles, so Justin wouldn’t get hit by friendly fire.
In no time, they cleared the bridge. The question remained. How many more climbed the trestle’s labyrinth frame? And where the hell was Dean?
“Dean?” Justin’s high-pitched screams shrilled through the gorge.
Luther held his breath and waited for an answer while wiping away the sweat burning his eyes. “He must have crossed,” was all Luther could think. A piercing thought screamed at him. Had it been Twila? Without questioning, he took a knee. “Bro, cover me,” Luther bellowed. “Twila said he’s trapped under the bridge.”
A barrage of gunfire whizzed over his head just as he knelt down. “Good God Almighty! Missed me by inches.” He turned in time to witness the stinking nimrod pinwheeling down to the river. “Thanks,” Luther husked before sticking his head between the gap in the middle of the tracks—dreading what he might encounter.
“What’d you see?” Justin shouted.
“A bunch of old wood.” Once his eyes accustomed to the shadows—he saw them. Ten, twenty, thirty Zs, climbing the latticed-trestle.
He made eye contact with one three beams down. It glared back, hatred consuming it. One round in the arm caught it off balance. It splashed into the river.
A faint cough. “Dean?” Justin yelped out like a dog in heat.
Luther twisted toward the sound directly below. Dean’s crumpled body lie wedged in a spray of beams. “Found him!”
Justin rushed over. “Is he—dead?”
“Can’t be. He would have turned by now,” Luther speculated aloud while X-strains scaled the trestle. Zs didn’t have fear holding them back. Just insatiable hunger pushing them on. That was their superpower.
Justin ducked under the bridge. “He looks unconscious.” The undeniable panic in Justin’s voice told him they needed to bust ass; otherwise, Dean wasn’t making it. They had to haul him up before the rest of the horde figured how to get to them.
“Ye-ah! Splash! There goes another one,” Justin hooted in the madness.
Luther had to take off his duffle to get the rope he thought he would never use. His hands worked quickly. Before he knew it, he had tied a noose. He held it up to see if it would fit around Dean’s shoulders in time to catch Justin’s harried expression.
“Dude?”
Luther shrugged. “It’s what came to me.” He dropped the rope through the opening where Dean had fallen through. He dragged the rope over Dean’s face. “Dean—wake up!”
“Does it reach?” Justin shouted.
“Yup, but—” Someone had to go down there and slip the rope over his shoulders and under his arms. And Luther wouldn’t fit through the gap.
“Easy-peasy.” Justin never ceased to amaze him with his eagerness to take on impossible tasks.
“Hold on, take off your pack.” Luther grabbed the military paracord from his tactical vest. “In case you lose your footing.” He knotted one end around Justin’s belt.
Justin climbed down, nimble as he was, while Luther clenched onto the rope and paracord. He knew those stinking nimrods were close when his nose stuffed up again.
A rifle shot crushed his nerves. “Whut the—”
Scarlett rounded the bend with the gang at her heels. What the hell are they doing here? She cracked off another round. In his direction. Tensing, he glanced behind him. Three X-strainers teetered toward him. One tripped over its raggedy pants that had fallen to its knees. It careened over the edge. The next rifle blast sent the other one over. The tugging of the rope reminded him he had pressing priorities. Scarlett had it under control.
Or so he thought. The rifle’s dull misfire proved him wrong. He ignored whatever Justin was yelling and reached for his 9mm, only his tactical vest snagged on a shard of splintered wood. “Somebody—”
The X-strain howled to the sky before pouncing on its prey. Using brute force, Luther snapped off the shard. He backhanded the Z with it, sending the nimrod overboard.
“Dude, like pull him up already,” Justin pestered as if Luther had nothing better to do than twiddle his thumbs.
Luther pulled up the rope. Scarlett was suddenly by his side and together they maneuvered Dean’s dead weight through the gap in the bridge.
“Please tell me he didn’t get bit?” The blue-eyed babe bit her lip.
“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Justin screeched. “They’re freakin’ everywhere.” His sporadic gunshots ricocheted through the canyon.
It didn’t take much effort to get Justin up. He sprang up through the opening. “Guys, we’ve got to get back to— Hey, Ella? What are you doing here?”
Ella’s flushed face had turned ghostly-white as she and Twila held hands and inched their way across the bridge, step by step. Mindy was a close-second behind.
“Behind you!” Luther shouted.
Ella swung around. To his amazement, Ella fired at a Z crawling behind her and Mindy.
“Awesome!” Justin jumped to his feet.
“Dean! Dean!” Scarlett sprinkled water over his face.
“Grandpa!” Tears streaked down Twila’s sand-covered face.
Luther considered their options. “People, we’ve got to get off this mofo bridge.” Before the horde overtook them.
Dean coughed himself awake. “What the devil’s going on?” He stared blankly in apparent shock.
Luther let out a hearty laugh. “Ain’t nothing can kill you.”
“Just my dumb luck,” Dean groused.
“Can you walk?” Luther asked, wondering how they were getting off this bridge from hell.
Justin and Scarlett were back to shooting as Zs emerged to the top of the bridge. Luther helped Dean to his feet. But when Dean stepped down on his left leg, he gritted his teeth and groaned.
“Damn, twisted my ankle. Give me a minute,” Dean rasped.
“We’re out of minutes.” Shoulda gone with T-Mobile. They had to get off this deathtrap. Sure, he could carry Dean, but on the ramshackle bridge, it might as well be a tightrope. Too much weight in one spot and they’d both end up in the river.
“Let’s go back.” Luther decided it was the safest play.
“We can’t.” Mindy’s whisper seemed to scream above the river’s rush.
Scarlett wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. “There’s a horde back there.”
Justin strapped on his pack. “What the heck are Zs doing way out here in the middle of freakin’ nowhere?”
“I’m thinkin’ that houseboat encountered a horde at some point,” Dean rambled in the background.
“Justin, find us a path across this mofo bridge,” Luther said, taking charge.
“You folks, go on,” Dean insisted. “I’ll catch up.”
“That’s a big hell no! No one’s getting left behind. Uh-uh, not today.” Luther hoorahed like a hard-ass Marine.
“Here! My very last piece of chalk.” Twila handed it to Justin.
“Okay, so, I’ll mark the good spots.” And Justin was off.
“Scarlett, your bat. Dean can use it as a crutch,” Luther threw out there, thinking on the fly.
She reached for the bat strapped to the back of her pack like an expert archer.
“It just might do the trick.” Dean took a couple of uneasy steps.
Luther studied the span ahead as the sun crested over the canyon’s rocky gorge, nearly blinding him. Justin had gained significant yardage. Time to get moving. “Scarlett, hold the rear.” He could count on her to eliminate th
e strays. “People, walk lightly. Watch for the pop-ups.”
Hold on a minute. Is that an f’n tunnel? Luther squinted harder. Never mind. He focused on his footing, worried the old wood couldn’t handle his weight. Meanwhile, he convinced himself he had merely seen a shadow or another bend in the bridge.
When he caught up with Justin furiously shaking the rusted wire mesh blocking the tunnel’s entrance—there were not enough swear words to express his sudden distress.
Luther shoved the meshing. It gave somewhat. There was only one way to the other side. As he charged like a fullback on an insane drive to punch through the defense, Dean shouted, “Got wire cutters in my—”
Dean’s words registered two seconds too late. The instant relief from the scorching sun was nullified by the abrasive impact from colliding into the wire-mesh when he landed on all fours.
“Touchdown!” Justin cheered.
More gunshots behind him. Luther reached for the flashlight snapped to his belt, hoping he hadn’t used all his mojo. Better not be another horde waiting inside the tunnel. They had no place to go.
He quickly illuminated the tunnel to find the other end barricaded as well. Other than the bat colony stirring above, the tunnel was empty. Quickly, he and Justin ushered the gang inside.
“Boy howdy, that was something,” Dean went on in an apparent delirium.
Scarlett busied over Twila, Justin comforted Ella, and Mindy seemed lost in her own world as usual. Luther didn’t want to be the one calling the shots, not with so many lives at stake. He tried to unscramble his brain, debating over their next play.
“Need some help over here,” Luther boomed as the horde staggered closer. “Dean?”
The panic in his voice must have brought Dean back to his senses. “We can shore off the meshing,” Dean said, pulling out his hammer. “Justin, Scarlett, hold up the meshing while I nail it back to the frame.”
Sure, it might hold off regular Zs. For a while. Not X-strains.
“You all right?” Dean shot him a concerned look. “Looks like you don’t need those juju beads after all,” Dean ragged, sounding back to his normal self.
“What I need is a bucket of chicken wings—” He had burned too many carbs.
Scarlett held up a small package. “Survival Tabs. It’s all we have left. They’ll give you an energy burst.”
Oh, hell no! But he took it. At least they didn’t have to haul around that sorry excuse of a wheelbarrow. Although Dean could have ridden in it. So much for the camping stove; Ella couldn’t blame him for dumping it.
“Guys! Guys!” Justin shouted. “They’re coming!”
A slow smile came to him. Luther pulled out his last grenade. “You all catching my wavelength?”
“Everyone, to the other end of the tunnel!” Dean shouted.
“What if it’s a dead-end?” Justin shouted back.
The spine-chilling Hunger’s Howl reverberated through the tunnel like otherworldly creatures coming for their souls. They took off running, except Dean, who limped off using the bat as a crutch.
“Give me a shout-out when you all get to the other end.” Luther waited for the okay and stared down the growling faces lusting over him on the other side of the flimsy wire-mesh.
When Justin shouted the all-clear, Luther pulled the pin and rolled the grenade through the meshing. One of those stinking nimrods better not pick it up. And toss it back.
A curious one eyed the grenade and seemed to pry into his brain. It reached for the grenade. Bam! He shot its hand. Outrage swept across its decomposing face. For a split-second, Luther almost seemed lost in its fury.
“Uncle Luther!” Twila yelled.
Luther scrambled for the end zone. He dove to the ground as the grenade’s shockwave ripped through the tunnel. An unreasonable fear warned that the light at the other end of the tunnel was a damn zombie train.
Chapter 38
Estella Marie Vasquez-Chen rocked baby Mateo back to sleep after a quick feeding. Silently, she thanked the Virgin Mary for giving her the courage and strength to make it this far. She didn’t know how they had made it without any fatalities. Someone must be watching over them.
She glanced warily around the dilapidated train station, something right out of one of those vaquero movies Papa used to binge-watch when his back had gone out. They had stumbled upon it during their moonlight hike down the canyon. From what she could tell, everyone still slept except Justin and Luther, who were outside on guard duty.
Hiking across the crappy desert at night, Ella fumed. Dean must have had brain damage from his fall. And why hadn’t Scarlett and Twila warned them about the horde on the bridge? She still couldn’t believe they had escaped that one. Her mood simmered to a full boil as she mentally discredited Twila and Scarlett’s cryptic cosmic connections. What good were these metaphysical abilities?
Twila poked her head up from the sleeping bag next to her. Her drawn-out yawn turned into a frown. “It’s not my fault. Honest me.” She rubbed her golden-flecked eyes. “Ooh, they make me sooo mad. They tricked me!”
Ella immediately felt guilty.
“I did use my third eye. All I saw was a pretty meadow of sunflowers and butterflies with glittery rainbows and sparkly fairies.” Twila kicked off her sleeping bag. “I’ll never be that stupid again. Please, don’t be mad at me.” She stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
“Lo siento. What do you see now?” Ella was dying to know when they’d make it out of the desert. More like, if they were making it out of there. Alive.
Twila squeezed her eyes shut as dramatically as possible and held her head. Oh well, she would be meditating for a while. Used to Twila’s antics, Ella gazed at mijo and let his love fill her heart. At least he was oblivious to their dire situation. With Mateo nestled in the sling against her chest, she gently pulled the poncho over him. Bonding time. She cherished those quiet moments when his tiny heart beat against hers.
Dean cried out in his sleep. Scarlett jumped to her feet with gun in hand at the same time Justin and Luther ran inside with pointed guns.
“It’s okay,” Ella said in a low voice, trying not to laugh at Twila’s simmering scowl. Poor Dean. He was in obvious pain. His fall must have been petrifying. Still, he had refused Mateo’s tea since she only had one bottle left. They were almost out of water. Then what?
“Good morning.” Dean propped himself up on his elbows. “Feel like I got run over by a train.”
“Just the bridge,” Luther zinged back.
“How’s your ankle?” Scarlett asked.
Dean struggled to his feet. “Dadgummit, I’m walkin’ today. Even if it kills me.”
Luther darted to him. “Settle down.”
Dean made a few wincing steps before stopping. “I’m thinkin’, if I had a walking stick. Better yet, I’ll fashion a crutch out one of those one-by-fours.”
“We can hang here for a day,” Luther suggested. “Do some hunting.”
“For what? Rattlesnake?” Justin mocked.
“Ew.” She didn’t know what was worse, looking for snakes. Or actually eating them?
“Jeez Louise,” Twila moaned. “I can’t meditate with all your talking. Everyone, listen to me. We have to leave.” She rushed to Scarlett. “Mommy, please tell them. If we don’t go this very minute, we’ll get there too late.” She sobbed into Scarlett’s hip.
“Now, I don’t want you all stopping on my account.” Dean massaged his ankle. “Say, Justin, hand me that board next to you.”
“Sure.” Justin tripped his way over the partially collapsed roof.
Mindy and baby Starla sat at the opposite end of a cleared section of the room in silence. “Do you sense anything?” Ella asked.
Mindy stood up and straightened out her rumpled clothes. “All I’m getting—” She looked deep into Ella’s eyes. “Is this compelling urge to keep going. When that happens, I listen.”
“This just might do the trick.” Dean put a board under his armpit. “All I ne
ed to do is whittle down this top piece, wrap one of my shirts over the top for padding, and it ought to make a suitable crutch.”
“You sure?” Luther flashed him an odd look.
Dean laughed. “Don’t look at me in that tone. I may be old. But it’ll take more than a bum ankle to keep me down.”
Luther cracked up. “Remind me never to get in a barfight with you.”
“Folks, take care of your personal business while I MacGyver this into a crutch.” Dean grabbed a knife from his tool belt. “Fortunately, I didn’t lose all my tools in the fall.” He reached up again to adjust his lost cowboy hat. He must miss it.
With time on her hands, Ella washed out yesterday’s dirty diapers in the sandy dirt and then balled them into a plastic bag. She’d soak them in the first creek they found, thankful Scarlett had given her and Mindy cloth diapers. What a disaster that would have been. Two babies and no diapers! Justin was useless when it came to diapers. But she didn’t get on his case about it. He did so much already.
Dean was still working on his crutch, and Luther and Scarlett were busy scavenging the rubble for melee weapons to replace the ones they had lost during their bridge ordeal. Hmm, what about those prickly pears? The Survival Tabs left her stomach feeling empty.
She eyed a sprawling healthy-looking prickly pear. Nopalitos! She had eaten them plenty of times. The flat leaf-like pads were a popular dish in Mexico, loaded with vitamins. But she needed tongs. Pliers would work.
She hurried to Dean, pleased she could finally do something to help her friends. “Dean, do you have pliers?”
“You need me to fix something?”
“Uh, have you ever had grilled prickly pear pads—the leaves?” She loved them diced in pico de gallo served with huevos rancheros. Mmm, or sautéed in olive oil with onions, garlic, and jalapeños. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.
Dean put down the crutch. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, they taste sorta like lemony green beans. With the pizazzy crunch of bell pepper,” she embellished as if writing one of her MeChat food blogs.
“You’re making me hungry.” He handed her the pliers. “The crutch is taking longer than I expected. The dern wood split on the first one.”
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 34