LZR-1143: Evolution (30 page)

I could hear George in the back calling out. I spared a quick glance for the front of the store and followed them back.

They were standing in front of a large metal door in the back room. The sign above the door read “No Entry.” Below that, a smaller sign read “No Smoking.”

This must be the gun vault.

As I followed, I saw the discarded headset of the CB radio next to the transmitter, and a door opened wide to the alleyway in the rear of the building. George approached the door and banged on the metal with the butt of his rifle.

“Wildflower? You in there?”

“Cupcake?”

I looked at the large, gruff man and laughed incredulously.

“Cupcake?” I asked.

He grunted, turning away. “It was my wife’s handle, and after she ... well, anyway, I used it as much as she did. Especially toward the end.”

I looked at Kate and mouthed “Cupcake?” She started to laugh silently.

“She was a baker,” he defended, unable to let it go.

“Cupcake, that you? Jesus Christ, you wouldn’t believe this shit. Open the door, would you?” The voice was muffled, but sounded immensely relieved.

George looked confused, and scanned the area for a key.

“What the hell happened? How’d you get locked in?”

I spotted a set of keys hanging from a hook near a workbench and tossed them to George.

“Crazy bastards came in through the back door and surprised us. Picked the lock clean off and killed Marilou in her sleep. We woke up to find them with guns on us. Locked us in this vault after taking the guns. I thought I was gonna die in here.”

The door opened wider, and a skinny, gaunt man with sunken cheeks tumbled out. I half raised my weapon before realizing it wasn’t a zombie. Just a really skinny man.

Behind him, another man followed.

This time I did raise my weapon.

The second man had been bitten.

Chapter 31

The good news was that we had found José, the man who knew how to run the ferry.

The bad news?

He was maybe an hour or two from turning into a zombie.

Wildflower, also known as Ted, filled us in briefly as we moved into the main store and out into the light. José followed George, and I followed José, with Kate close behind. We walked into the light and onto the narrow road as Ted was finishing.

“...they just cleaned us out, and ran out the back door.”

“When was that?” I asked, squinting in the sunlight again.

I had looked for sunglasses in the store, but couldn’t find any. The light was really hurting my eyes lately, and I could tell by Kate’s reaction that she was having the same problem.

“I don’t know, maybe a day ago? Maybe less? I just spent my time watching José here, expecting him to turn, and ...”

“I told you you could tie me up, man. No need to go all paranoid and shit.”

He was feverish and his eyes had retreated from his otherwise chubby face. His tan skin was looking pallid, and his hands were slightly palsied.

“Look, we need to get onboard the ferry and over to the other side, José. I’m sorry about your bite, but I have to be honest. This little boat ride is incredibly important, and I need you to get us running on that ship before you ... before ...”

“Before I go all zombie-hombre and eat your ass? Yeah, I get it. What the hell? I don’t give a shit. Let’s go.”

George turned toward the bus as Kate cursed loudly from the storefront. I turned to follow her pointed finger.

Thirty zombies had turned the corner behind a boating store and were moving toward us down the narrow street. We started to run toward the bus, and I volunteered to help José, knowing that he couldn’t pass along his illness to me.

He was dead weight—no pun intended—and very weak.

We ran toward the bus, and George reached the corner, skidding to a halt and firing two shots in quick succession. A large group of creatures were rounding the corner, cutting us off from the rear of the bus.

I handed José to Kate, determined not to let this group cut us off from the ferry. I fired into the group at full automatic from five feet away, scoring several head shots amongst the wild fire. The clip clicked to empty and I shouldered the gun and drew one of the machetes, which was protruding from my pack.

Behind me, I heard Kate say “hold him” and then the quick shots from the M-16. We had established a line, and behind us, George was firing his shotgun at head level, sheering off heads as they pushed forward. At least half of them were down, but the rest were closing, and the pack behind us was moving slowly up. Kate’s rifle clicked out, and I reached behind me, grabbing the hilt of the second machete, bringing it forward and reversing the blade, tossing it to her handle first.

I waded into the dead, blood racing and head swimming in adrenalin. The first creature approached from my right side, and I brought the heavy steel around in a full-armed swing, cutting cleanly through the neck. Tendons and bone met the blade briefly as it passed through, feeling barely a vibration through the metal. I turned to meet the next creature who approached from directly in front of me; behind it, another clambered forward. I drew my pistol with my left hand and brought the machete around again in a right hand lateral blow, sheering halfway through the neck and stopping, even as I raised my left hand and pulled the trigger, unable to miss the second creature from five feet away.

Kate grunted to my far left and I swiveled in time to take the leg out from under a short man whose left hand still held a briefcase, but whose right was grabbing for her arm. He collapsed to the ground and I barely looked down as I fired again with my left hand, splattering brain against the ornamental brick walkway.

A pathway was clearing to the back of the bus, and Ted helped José to the rear as George emptied the last of his rounds into the heads of two more zombies. A large man in the uniform of a tourist, polo and khaki shorts, grabbed at my arm, managing to snag a piece of material from my sleeve before I brought the machete up in a brutal uppercut, slicing the face cleanly in two, and biting into brain on the out-swing. Beside me, Kate was mirroring my modus operandi, machete in one hand, pistol in the other. Her M-16 lay discarded on the ground in a puddle of blood, stock shattered and ammunition exhausted.

George dropped the ladder, and as it swung forward I had an inspiration, grabbing a zombie by the neck and slamming it against the rear of the bus, above the armor plate, and jumping back. The heavy metal ladder swung into place, a rung neatly crushing the head of the twitching form and pinning the body to the bus. Kate dropped the last creature with a neatly placed cut through the back of the neck, and swiveled around to face me, even as Ted was pushing José up the ladder. George was already on top, pulling José up.

“Starts to get a little fun, doesn’t it,” I asked Kate, my voice shaking slightly as I bent over to wipe my blade on the shirt of one of the fallen corpses.

She glanced behind her at the second group, only twenty yards away and closing quickly.

“It has its excitements,” she said, smiling briefly and popping the clip out of her pistol, peering at the ammunition indicator. “I’m almost dry. You?”

I shook my head.

“Two more rounds,” I hefted the machete and grinned. “But plenty more left here.”

She pointed at the approaching creatures and walked past me, patting me on the shoulder as she grabbed the rungs and started to climb.

“They’re all yours.”

I could do it, I thought briefly, seriously considering wading into a crowd of thirty with a machete. I watched the drool fall in bloody droplets from the gaping mouths, sixty arms clutching for flesh, sixty legs shuffling forward on rotting feet. I smelled the stench of death.

Like hell I could.

I turned and jumped onto the ladder and pulled myself up, climbing to the roof behind Kate as the first of the creatures slammed into the back of the bus. George and José were disappearing into the hatch as the engine revved. Ted was crouched over the opening, staring forward at the chain link fence that stood between us and the ferry, which sat placidly tied to the pier, ramp facing us, but locked in its stowed position. Up and inaccessible.

Ted turned to me as I approached.

“Can I borrow your pistol?” he asked, looking meaningfully at the fence and the ferry beyond.

I turned to the fencing as he asked, understanding the problem.

Behind the bus, more than a hundred zombies—another pack unless I missed my guess—were barreling down the main street towards us. The bus could handle the fence, but before we could load onto the ship, the ramp had to be lowered and the mooring lines cast off. We couldn’t do that in the middle of hundreds of creatures.

I turned to Kate.

“Go down and toss us up a couple shotguns, would you?”

She followed my gaze and read my eyes.

“I’ll come with you. Better two of us than one.” She dropped into the bus and disappeared from view, coming back a split second later with three guns. I reached my hand down and took the two shotguns, pulling them to the roof as she put a foot on the bottom rung.

“Better that you stay with them. If we ... if something happens to us, they’ll need one of us to try to get that ramp down.”

“Mike, you know goddamned well that ...”

The rest of her angry sentence was cut off as I slammed the hatch and spun the latching mechanism, sealing it tightly and pounding twice on the roof to urge them to pull up to the fence. The bus started forward as we moved to the front, above the windshield. The hatch could still be opened from the inside, but by the time she was out, we’d be downstairs and in the thick of it.

Boy, was she gonna be pissed.

Chapter 32

The bus pulled to the front of the gate, leaving barely enough space between the plow and the fence. We leapt carefully to the hood and down over the plow, avoiding the sharp edges of the serrated teeth.

The lock was a simple combination plugged through a quarter inch chain. I motioned to Ted to step back, and blasted the metal with one shot from the shotgun. The U-shaped metal loop shattered and the chain went slack. I yanked the metal chain through the fence and pushed it open, Ted close behind me, pushing the other side. The bus engine roared, and the monstrosity pushed through the narrow opening, clipping a blade briefly on the metal post near me.

Across the gate from me, Ted started forward to shut the gate. Less than five yards separated the group of creatures from us, and as the two gates met in the center, twenty bodies reached the chain link.

Ted fell as the fence buckled inward, and my legs bent under the pressure of the weight as I pushed back against the creatures. Ted stood up, thin frame quick to react. He came to my side and fired several shots into the crowd, temporarily reducing the weight as he put his hand through the chain link and drew the chain together on our side. He screamed once, as in pain, then cursed, even as he looked around for something to secure the two pieces together.

My arms and legs were burning as he began to look frantic.

He turned to me, eyes wild.

“We don’t have anything to lock the chain with,” he said.

I spat a curse, and then remembered my attempt at a party trick in the cabin of the Humvee. I turned to him quickly.

“Empty your gun into the crowd, then hand me the barrel,” I said through clenched teeth.

The moans had increased on the opposite side, and fingers were piercing the chain link like so many worms emerging from a sodden dirt forest. Faces were pressed against the metal, tongues lashing the air and pieces of rotten skin flaking off on the rough edges.

Two thundering shots later, he handed me the warm steel barrel with a dubious look on his face.

“I don’t think ...” he started, then stopped, eyes widening.

I had pushed the metal barrel through two adjoining links, and was bending the hardened steel in a closed U, making a circle of steel to hold the chain together. My arms and hands burned from the effort, but my blood was racing through my veins, and adrenaline shot through me like jet fuel. I felt like I could do, or kill, anything.

I backed up from the fence, shaking slightly from the effort. Ted’s eyes were still wide, and shook his head slightly.

“Okay then,” was all he said, then turned and ran toward the ferry.

José was already on board with Kate, and they were standing in front of a raised panel with the top flipped up. I heard the hum of electronic machinery as the ramp began to lower. Further along the edge of the dock, George was unwinding mooring ropes and tossing them into the bay. The bus, parked directly in front of the ship, was waiting to board. I imagined Ky sitting inside, foot on the pedal, ready to get this shit on the road.

I jumped onboard as the ramp reached the halfway point.

“Engines?” I asked José briefly, and he nodded weakly, gesturing to amidships and limping forward.

“I’ll take him,” I said quickly, avoiding Kate’s piercing glare.

Yeah, I was gonna hear about my little trick later.

The ladder to the engine compartment was located in the covered hangar-like deck that housed the cars; we opened the heavy door, carefully going down the narrow steps. I hated surprises, so when we got the bottom of the ladder, I motioned to José to be silent and whistled as loud as I could. The piercing shrill echoed against the metal walls and machinery, and we waited a full minute before deciding that we were alone.

We moved along a narrow corridor, which opened into a large room with two engines on the metal floor. They gleamed with oil, and the room stank of engine oil and cleaning fluid, but the machinery was immaculately kept, and I sighed with relief when he entered an intricate sequence of keystrokes and dials, silencing several indicator lights, and turned over the first engine. It roared to life, followed quickly by the second.

Turning to me, eyes rimmed in red and irises becoming white, he said simply.

“They need some time to warm up; the wheel isn’t tough, and the controls in the main bridge aren’t complicated. Throttle for speed, wheel for direction. Don’t try to back into the dock; just cruise forward and hit reverse as you get close. She’s used to a little impact.” He took a deep breath, and shook as he exhaled.