Read A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse Online

Authors: Shawn Chesser

Tags: #zombies, #post apocalyptic, #delta force, #armageddon, #undead, #special forces, #walking dead, #zombie apocalypse

A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (39 page)

BOOK: A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
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A different kind of crazy
, Cade
thought to himself as he turned his attention to the creatures
farther down the road.

As Tice, Maddox, and Lopez fought to
extricate themselves from Lu Lu’s cramped backseat, Daymon took a
knee near the front fender then brought the crossbow to bear on a
twenty-something first turn. While the BYU sweatshirt-clad corpse
limped closer, he aimed through the red dot scope placing the
glowing pip on the zombie’s bobbing head. “You’re a long way from
home Jack,” he muttered as he let the arrow fly.

“Two door SUVs suck,” Tice bitched to no one
in particular as he squirmed through the open driver’s side door.
As soon as he was on the road he heard the unmistakable rasping
sound of a first turn coming from the far shoulder near the ditch.
He flipped his goggles down and scanned the glowing green
foreground. Less than fifteen feet away he found the source of the
sound. Hissing through a mouthful of broken teeth and trailing two
broken legs, the female creature that Daymon had clipped a second
ago clawed its way determinedly towards him. Without thinking about
who the woman Z used to be, or whom it had loved, or been loved by,
Tice double-tapped it in the forehead.

Standing by the open passenger door, Cade
replaced the magazine and charged his weapon then braced the SCAR
on the truck’s A-pillar and engaged the crowd to their front.
Starting with the closest Z, a freshly turned NA trooper, he walked
his fire head high along their ranks, each good hit answered with a
phosphorescent eruption of brain and bone.

A steady
thwap, thwap, thwap
reverberated from Daymon’s crossbow as he scored head shots of his
own.

Once free from the backseat, Maddox and Lopez
brought their SCAR carbines to the fight.

The five men continued to shoot and reload
until all of the zombies were down and they were no longer
surrounded.

“Let’s go,” Cade said as he changed mags,
then he collapsed the SCAR’s stock and clambered into the rig.

Daymon went forward and removed his arrows
from the dead Zs and hastily wiped them off on the tall grass
lining the side of the road.

“Nice work with the bow,” Maddox commented
after Daymon had climbed back into Lu Lu. “You grow up
hunting?”

“Yeah, I
used
to stalk bear and cougar
in Idaho... I guess I need to add former humans to that list,”
Daymon said as he finessed the clutch and stick and with a clunk
coaxed Lu Lu into first gear.

“That was strange... the
demonios
in
front of us didn’t make any noise,” observed Lopez as Daymon
steered his rig around the supine corpses.

“I figured they couldn’t see us. It’s pretty
damn dark under the canopy,” Cade proffered, “but no doubt there
are more where they came from.”

“How would you know Lopez? You were in here
on the bitch bump the entire time,” Tice needled.

“I warned you Spook... I’m tired of
this.”

“Save it for the Zs,” Maddox said, glaring at
the bickering duo.

In less than a minute they arrived at the
interchange. Daymon downshifted and took a hard right onto Butte
Road which wound uphill disappearing into the darkness. “I can’t
see shit,” Daymon blurted.

“Keep going slow. We’ll be getting out real
soon,” Cade said.

Easing up on the gas Daymon said
incredulously, “And walk a mile uphill? The elevation gain is about
fifteen hundred feet—that’s an ass kicker.”

“I noticed some ambient light up on the
butte, and since the mansion is the only property up there, that
tells me they have a couple of generators running. And if they have
electricity, then odds are there are security cameras and motion
sensors. Pull over... we’ll go on foot from here,” Cade said. He
glanced at Daymon, and though rendered in shades of green, noticed
the hangdog look on the man’s face.

“I
have
to go with you,” Daymon
pressed, desperation evident in his voice.

“Listen, I’m indebted to you for getting us
this far, but you need to leave before more Zs start showing up.
Something happened at the river crossing, and from my experience
where there are a few Zs there will soon be a lot more.”

Now that Daymon had painted himself into a
corner he finally decided to come clean and tell all about Heidi
and the men who shanghaied her from the Silver Dollar. He made it
clear that he hoped he would find her alive—and if he didn’t—he
would make Robert Christian pay in blood.

Cade looked at Daymon and paused for a beat,
then said, “I’m very sorry to hear about Heidi but I promised
President Clay I would bring Robert Christian back to Schriever so
he can answer for his crimes. Eventually he will either be hanged
or put in front of a firing squad. And from your description of the
little bastard who took Heidi against her will, I’m confident that
he is the man we have in custody at Schriever.”

“Promise me you’ll bring her out if she
is
still alive.”

“Of course—can you quickly describe her?”

As they sat in the idling truck, Daymon
pulled a photo from the glove box and handed it to Cade, who took a
quick look then promptly put it in his breast pocket for safe
keeping.

“The only reason I’m not kicking and
screaming... and demanding I go along,” Daymon went on, “is because
Duncan spoke so highly of you. I can trust you...
right
?”

Cade nodded and slid out of the vehicle, then
held the front seat forward until the three operators emerged from
the backseat. He pulled Tice aside and held a brief conversation
before returning to the Scout. He went around to the driver’s side
and passed a portable sat-phone in to Daymon and said, “I
will
call you either way. You will have closure... I
promise. Now git...”

“How are you getting Christian back to
Springs?”

Cade turned, looking robot-like with the
NVG’s four lenses protruding from his eyes. “Don’t worry about
us... just get
yourself
out of here.”

With that the Delta team crossed the road and
like four deadly apparitions melted into the pitch-black tree
line.

***

1:55 a.m.

Daymon turned Lu Lu around then put the
transmission in neutral and let gravity power her downhill to the
junction.

At the bottom of the hill he turned right on
the Teton Pass Highway and steeled himself for what he might
encounter passing through the Valley of the Crosses.

 

Chapter 45

Outbreak - Day 12

Jackson Hole, Wyoming

 

Butte Road Mansion - 1:56 a.m.

Lucas drained the last few drops of gas into
the noisy generator’s tank, then made sure the idle backup
generator was also fueled.
Good ‘til daybreak
, he thought.
With a run time of six hours and an output of 10,000 watts, one was
more than enough to keep the lights on and in turn keep Robert
Christian in his happy space. The second generator was merely
insurance to keep him from getting killed.

He walked the mansion grounds checking the
garage, pool house and the two swinging security gates. Lastly,
before securing the mansion’s interior he made sure the service
door on the east wall was locked.

Satisfied the perimeter was locked down he
climbed the stairs and tried the front door.
Locked... for once,
a good job Cliff.

He went in through the open garage, closing
the overheads, and accessed the mansion through the mud room.

After checking in with Cliff, who had three
crumpled Red Bull cans sitting on his desk, he passed the master
suite to make sure Christian’s door was locked and then completed
his lap at the guest house where he found Liam passed out and
German porn playing on the flat screen.

The thought that Paul might have gone back to
the Cowboy Bar to retrieve the satellite phone crossed his mind,
prompting him to try calling it once more.

After three rings a man answered.

“Paul,” Lucas said.

“Gerald,” a raspy voice replied.

“Who?” Lucas asked.

“It’s Gerald... at the Silver Dollar Cowboy
Bar and I’m guessing this is your phone.”

“This is Lucas Brother. Is this the first
time its rang since ten o’clock or so?”

“First time tonight,” Gerald lied with a wide
grin creasing his face.

“Good to hear,” Lucas replied happily. “Hold
on to it for me and I’ll be by tomorrow.”

Gerald continued wiping the bar top and
replied, “You’re here
every
day Mr. Brother. Why would
tomorrow be any different?”

Pissed at being called out on his drinking
habits, yet at the same time relieved he wasn’t in Bishop’s dog
house, he thumbed off the phone without replying.

Lucas left Liam drooling on the leather couch
and went to his room. The clock read 2:10 a.m. by the time he
finally closed his eyes.

***

Valley of the Crosses - 2:45 a.m.

Daymon grudgingly repeated the same ritual as
the day before. He parked Lu Lu in roughly the same spot and
grabbed his Maglite and the shotgun and set off on foot. Taking his
time and staying close to the barbed wire fence, he walked the
bright beam along the rows of decaying bodies, illuminating every
crucified person’s final death mask.

At the end of the mile he found the last
cross in the row, standing naked, silently awaiting company.

During the long walk back to Lu Lu, with the
smell of death assaulting his nose, the faces of his Moms and Pop,
Heidi and even Hosford Preston ran through his mind’s eye like a
chattering old Super 8 movie.

As he sat inside Lu Lu, in virtually the same
depressed state mentally and spiritually that he had spiraled into
the moment Cade broke it to him that he would have no shot at
retribution—and an even smaller shot at finding Heidi alive—he made
up his mind to leave Jackson.

Punching open the glove box he retrieved the
small Thuraya sat-phone Cade had given him and placed it in the
change tray between the seats. Then he grabbed the police radio
Jenkins had given him and powered it on. He turned the volume up
and depressed the talk button. “This is Daymon calling for Chief
Jenkins.”

Static.

“Fire Chief Bush calling Jenkins...over.”

“Charlie here.”

Informal
. “I’m getting out of here and
I thought I’d touch bases with you while I’m still in range with
this thing.”

“Well, I dropped in the Silver Dollar earlier
and Gerald said I missed you by a couple of hours. Your rig wasn’t
at the firehouse and you didn’t answer the radio so I figured I’d
stop here and try you one last time.”

“Where are you?” Daymon asked.

“I’m on 22 at the pass.”

“Shit, I’m a few minutes from there. I’m in
the valley and just spent the last hour looking for Heidi.”

“Watch yourself down there... the dead
breached the barrier a couple of hours ago... don’t know exactly
when they’ll be here... but they
are
coming.”

“Did you warn Gerald and the other
prisoners—
Essentials
—whatever they’re calling them these
days?”

“I only gave a heads up to the good guys...
the ones who deserved it. Pissed me off seeing Bishop and some of
his mercenaries heading for the airport. Saving their own skin I
guess. Now let’s see if we can’t save ourselves. So quit yappin’
and get up here—
now
.”

“I’m on my way,” Daymon said. He put the
police radio aside and retrieved the mini sat-phone Cade had given
him. He closed his eyes and slowly tumbled the phone in his hand,
willing the thing to ring.

 

Chapter 46

Outbreak - Day 12

Grand Junction Airport

Grand Junction, Colorado - 2:45 a.m.

An artillery-like boom rattled the windows,
waking Taryn from her deep sleep. While the thunderclap echoed off
the surrounding red cliffs and liquid bullets battered the all
glass terminal, she struggled to grasp reality.

In her dream she had been getting another
tattoo—her seventh—this time across her taut stomach. And of all
things, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse atop fire breathing
steeds, with Death in the foreground, holding by the hair a human
head strongly resembling hers.

Behind her, the door rattled in its
frame.

She glanced hesitantly over her shoulder at
the filmed over window, where Dickless stood, alabaster face
pressed to the glass, reptile-like eyes following her every move.
Shaking off sleep she lifted her shirt and glanced with relief at
the still blank canvas that had seemed so realistically inked
moments ago.

Just the momentary flash of skin caused her
former boss to bang against the door fervently. In fact, Dick had
been a leerer of the first degree
before
he received his
comeuppance; therefore, Taryn wasn’t at all surprised to see that
his undead alter-ego also had a staring problem.

“Go away perv,” she said, waving the revolver
at the rotting corpse.
Tomorrow
, she thought darkly,
was
going to be payback time
.

She rolled onto her side facing away and
closed her eyes, pretending he wasn’t there.

The banging intensified.

Taryn sat upright and felt around in the dark
for the gun.

The hissing resumed.

Her fingers brushed the checkered wooded
grips. She pulled the thingy so the cylinder would flip out and one
more time counted the bullets. There were six. A machine gun it was
not, so all six had to count if she was to have any chance of
escaping the terminal.

***

The House - 2:45 a.m.

Though the four soldiers of the Delta team
were in their early to mid-thirties and physically fit, the hump up
the steep southwest face of the butte, weighed down with body
armor, extra magazines, and the various other tools essential to
modern war fighting, had been an ass kicker of the highest
order.

BOOK: A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
5.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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