Siege (49 page)

“I think I have this memorized now,” Katarina decided.

“You better. That’s our asses,” Bill answered her gruffly. He heaved himself up into the fancy Durango and adjusted the seat. Katarina slammed the passenger door shut. Like everyone else on the mission dubbed “Operation Distract” she was in hunting clothes. Only a few volunteer soldiers were in their old army camouflage.

“I got it. I promise. Just do what I say.”

“Oh, God, is that what our marriage will be like?” he kidded her. She took him seriously for a split second, then laughed and smacked his arm. “Oh, you.”

Ahead of them Bette and Linda shared one last kiss. Behind them Ken was tapping out some obscure song on the car horn.

Dale shouted, “Lesbians kissing, oh yeah! A good day to die!”

Maddie smacked Dale’s cheek playfully then gave him a big hug. Dale lifted the older woman off the ground, hugging her tight, and kissing her cheek. She was his surrogate Mom and tears were running down her cheeks. Rune and Dale clasped hands, exchanging last words, then Dale slid into the Durango’s passenger seat. Rune gently led Maddie away as the older woman wept with worry.

Juan stood nearby watching with Travis and Katie. He noted that the vehicles were ready and motioned to the gate operator. The gates began to whine open.

“Here we go.” Bill gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying not to let his nerves get to him.

“Yeah.”

They both took deep breaths.

“I wonder what twenty thousand zombies look like,” Katarina finally said.

“Dunno, honey,” Bill answered. “But we’re about to find out.”

2. Facing Death

The sun burned brightly in the sky above as the helicopter flew low over the three Durangos speeding down the old farm road. Already nature was taking advantage of the fall of Man. Crabgrass spread tendrils across the unused road as weeds poked through the asphalt. The elements were eating away at the structures along the road as the foliage around them rose up and shrouded them in leafy robes.

It made Curtis feel despair about their situation. How easily humankind was being erased from the face of the earth.

“Almost there,” Greta’s voice said in his headset.

Shifting in his seat, Curtis looked ahead, but saw no sign of the mobs of undead. “I don’t see them.”

“We estimate that they are about fifteen miles in front of us at this point,”

Kevin’s voice answered him. “Bring the Durangos to a stop.”

Curtis looked into the back of the helicopter where Kevin sat flipping through a sheath of papers on a clipboard. The man’s forehead was beaded with sweat. These were his plans that everyone had agreed on and he had insisted on flying out with Greta to run strategy from the air. Curtis resented him to no end. Kevin was not one of them. He was one of the others. An interloper. Just one more person to complicate things and make it hard at the fort.

With a curt nod, he sat back in his chair and looked down at the Durangos now idling on the road below. Linda was down there with that slut. It ate at him that Linda was a volunteer, but at the same time whatever happened, she deserved it. He had hoped that she would see the light. That he was the one for her and that she needed to be with him. But that hope felt futile every time he saw the two women together. The Southern Baptists had that right. It was just not natural.

If only he could go back to the old days, sitting at the station house, flipping through the latest catalog detailing the best in prisoner restraints, watching Linda deliver the mail every morning. Those were the days.

“Bette,” Kevin’s voice said in his headset once more.

“I’m here,” Bette answered.

Curtis could feel the hesitation in Kevin before his voice said, “You have a go.”

“Roger that,” Bette answered.

Curtis looked down to see the Durango that Linda was in began to move down the road, while the other two remained in position. The windows of the departing window rolled down and the two women stuck out their hands to wave and give the thumbs up.

Curtis felt his stomach slowly roll over, but his jaw set. Looking down at his map, he readied his pen. Time to go to work.

* * * * *

Bette closed her window as she drove on, a grin on her face, her blond hair sticking up around her head at odd angles. Grabbing Linda’s hand, she kissed it and winked at her.

“Let’s do this!”

“Woot!” Linda shouted out the closing window on her side.

“Scared?”

“Shitless.”

“Me, too.” Bette donned a very worn dark green cap. “I swear my insides are quivering.”

Linda pushed up the brim of her beat up cowboy hat and exhaled slowly.

“I think my stomach exploded.”

Reaching out, Bette snagged her hand and squeezed. “You didn’t have to come,”she said softly.

Linda looked at Bette very intently. “Oh, yes. I did. Where you go, I go.”

Tears flashed into Bette’s eyes as she pressed a string of kisses to Linda’s knuckles. I’m lucky to be with you.”

“Let’s hope your luck keeps up,” Linda answered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Bette crossed her fingers on both hands and pushed her foot down on the accelerator. Above them, the helicopter swooped ahead, the wind from its enormous blades buffeting the SUV. Linda swallowed hard next and reached for her water bottle.

“It’s okay, babe,” Bette assured her. “It’s okay.”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Linda answered, then gulped down her water.

“I know. I know.”

“We have a problem,” Greta’s voice cackled through the CB radio tucked into the dashboard.

Linda snagged the mouthpiece. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not where they are supposed to be,” Kevin answered, his voice surprisingly calm. “Slow down now.”

Bette immediately began to slow the Durango, her foot pressing down steadily on the brake. The Durango breached the top of the hill they were ascending and both women gasped.

Moving resolutely toward them was a multitude of undead. They filled the road and spilled over into the countryside. They slogged relentlessly forward with mindless determination.

The plan had been simple. Sit at the crossroads of another farm road until the undead came into view. Lure them onto the side road and keep ahead of them, drawing as many away as possible. Diverting the dead to the west seemed the best plan. They would eventually hit the desert where hopefully the elements would destroy them.

The first zombies were already to the crossroads. Maybe ten or fifteen, but they were stumbling along the center of the road.

“Babe, take a breath,” Bette said.

Linda gasped, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She felt unable to breathe, blink or even move.

“Babe, take a breath,” Bette said again. “We can do this.”

Linda forced air into her lungs, then lifted the mouthpiece to her lips.

“Bette says we can do this.”

Above them, Curtis and Kevin were talking quickly between each other, looking for an alternate route, looking for another viable option, but this intersection had been a major part of their plan.

After a minute, which seemed more like an hour, Kevin’s voice said,

“Okay. Go for it. Be careful.”

“I feel like Thelma and Louise,” Linda whispered.

“We’ll have a happy ending,” Bette assured her.

They quickly kissed before Bette shifted gears and floored the Durango. It sped down the hill and toward the intersection at a fast clip. The zombies slowly became aware of the vehicle and almost in unison, they raised their arms and began to moan loudly.

“We’re going to have to slow down as I take the curve,” Bette said in a quivering voice. “Don’t freak.”

“Okay,” Linda answered. She was transfixed by the sight of thousands of mangled creatures reaching toward them. Usually she was in a vehicle racing away from these things, not toward them.

The deer guard caught the first few zombies and flipped them out of the way as they neared the intersection. Bette slowed down only enough to keep control of the vehicle. The wall of gray, mottled creatures seemed to rise up before them like a nightmare. A few of the undead managed to strike out at the Durango, their rotting hands leaving smears of gunk on the windows.

More zombies moved onto the side road to cross it on their trek and the Durango plowed through them as it gained speed. Linda let out a small scream as the Durango slammed through a small knot of undead, sending the creatures flying in all directions. Bette fought the wheel, but kept on the road, her expression grim.

The Durango sped past the cluster of zombies at the crossroads and Bette fought her instincts to flee and slowed it down enough to keep the zombies interested. Twisting around in her seat, Linda looked back toward the creatures now stumbling after them.

“They’re following,” she whispered, both terrified and jubilant. Then the runners appeared.

3. Running with the Dead

“We have runners!” Greta’s voice was so sharp and loud in their headsets that Curtis yelped.

Kevin scrambled to the window and looked down. “Shit! Where the hell did they come from?”

“They’re gaining fast,” Curtis answered.

“Ed,” Kevin said, motioning to the grizzled old hunter seated near the door.

“Got it,” Ed answered.

The old geezer double checked his harness, then slid the door open. Wind buffeted them and Kevin pressed his clipboard tightly to his chest. Flipping off the safety on his rifle, Ed took aim as Greta swung the helicopter down low for him to get a good shot.

“What do I do?” Bette’s voice was crackling over the radio as Linda screamed, “Runners! Runners!”

“Go! Go! Go!” Kevin answered firmly. “Gun it!”

Below them, the runners were now racing alongside the Durango, smashing their hands against the SUV, howling with hunger. There were at least thirty of them.

The Durango lurched forward in response to Kevin’s order, leaving the shambling dead behind, but still being pursued by the shrieking runners.

* * * * *

“Babe, calm down,” Bette said firmly.

Linda was fighting her panic with all her might, but she couldn’t help the trembling of her hands. She gulped, twisting around in her chair to look out the back window. The runners were keeping pace. The road was winding and Bette couldn’t risk going too fast for fear of flipping them. A disgusting, bloody figure kept pace beside the Durango. Its mouth was open as it screamed. The entire lower half of its face had been torn away and its gaping maw was the stuff of nightmares. Its head suddenly exploded and it fell, tumbling along the roadside, before it landed in a bush.

“They’re shooting them,” Linda said, feeling the knot in her chest lessen. Bette didn’t answer as she concentrated on the winding road ahead and kept a diligent eye on the throng behind them. As the Durango began to take a long slowly arcing curve, Bette’s eyes widened as a large portion of the zombies merely ran into the field, ignoring the road.

“They’re going to head us off,” Bette gasped. “Greta! Greta! They’re going to head us off!”

“I’ve got you covered,” Greta answered.

The helicopter began to zoom as low as possible over the zombies in the field, buffeting the running creatures from above. A few fell, but the more persistent, less mutilated ones, kept their breathtaking sped toward the road. Linda wasn’t sure how many fell from the wind drafts or the sniper shots from above, but quite a few of the zombies fell into the deep grass, disappearing from view.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Bette’s knuckles went white as she held firmly to the steering wheel as the first of the runners reached the road ahead of her and charged them.

Linda grabbed hold of the handhold over the door and braced herself. The Durango slammed into the zombies and there was a sickening lurch to one side as something caught in one of the wheel wells. Bette regained control and the undead were tossed away from the front of the truck like chaff in the wind. Some of them were still smart enough or something akin to that to dart out of the way then leap onto the side of the Durango, hooking their gnarled fingers around the luggage rack.

Linda screamed as one snarled at her through her window and began to beat his free hand against the window with all his might. More zombies leaped onto the road and managed to avoid being struck outright by the Durango. They, too, leaped onto the truck, holding on, even fighting with each other as they tried to get at the two women inside. The banging of the bloodied fists and feet against the windows and doors had both women shaken. Trying hard to compensate for the extra weight as she drove on, Bette whispered a soft prayer.

The zombie pounding on Linda’s window was getting more and more agitated, his blows seeming more fierce. Linda took a deep breath, raised her gun, flicked off the safety and placed her finger on the button to roll down the window.

“Babe,” Bette said. “What are you doing?”

“I got it,” Linda assured her.

She pushed the button. As the glass slid down, she shoved the gun through the gap and fired point blank into its face. The zombie dropped off the Durango and tumbled away into the ditch. But Linda had forgotten that the window would automatically scroll all the way down if she didn’t stop it. When it kept rolling down, she panicked. Grey, bloodied, shredded arms began to thrust in the window at her and she began to scream. From above, Curtis watched in fascinated horror as one zombie tried to climb into the Durango as others tore at it, trying to get in instead. The Durango abruptly swerved and for a long moment was airbourne before it slammed down into a field at an angle. It slid across the unplowed, hard ground, shedding zombies as it went, then hit a piece of equipment hidden in the wild grass and flipped completely over. It tumbled maybe two times before coming to a stop, zombie-free, but a mangled wreck.

“Dammit,” Greta hissed. She swung the helicopter around, aiming for the runners pursuing the fallen vehicle.