Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts (5 page)

Standing over the Z, with her gun still extended, was my hero: Anna fucking Sails. Her eyes were
tight as she looked me over.

“Creed. If you’re about to join the crawlers I’m going to be very fucking disappointed.”

“Sails. Jesus Christ. You saved my ass.” I got to my feet and limped toward her.

“Now we’re even. You saved me at the hospital. Call it good?”

I stood with one foot cocked, because it screamed in pain every time I put weight on it. A few days out and I was already a damn cripple. I’d strained it while helping Roz dispatch a few Z’s at her house and had been on the mend ever since. 

Sails grabbed my arm and dragged me to the door, propping it open with her hip. She examined the torn shirt and probed at my skin.

“I guess I don’t have to kill you.” She let my arm drop.

“
Ow.” I tried not to fall over.

I put my hand on
Sails’s shoulder and then draped my arm over her in an embrace. I liked how she was strong and tough but also had all the right curves. Her back tensed, but then she let the tension go.

“Thanks, Sails.”

“We’re not married. Get your hand off me,” she said, but didn’t push me away.

“Sorry. Hurt my ankle. Help me back to the break room so I can finish the load-out?”

“You’re about an idiot, know that, Creed? How are you going to help with a busted leg?”

“Yeah. Good point. I’ll just wait here while you guys bring up the...” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because something screeched in the department store.

Joel appeared a second later, took one look at us, and the corpse, shrugged and deposited a box of goodies next to mine.

“Movement in there.
Lots of it. We need to haul ass,” Joel said and turned to go back in.

“Wait, man, where you going?”

“One more box. I got it. Just get this shit in the car.” He turned back. “Can’t you two wait for a touchy feely moment until we’re at least back in the hotel?”

“He hurt his vagina and needed my help,” Sails protested.

“Ankle. It gave out when she attacked. Just go. Stand around discussing all this bullshit and nothing will get done.” I didn’t let go of Sails.

Joel went back. I swallowed when my friend left, but if anyone could take care of himself, it was Joel “Super Marine” Kelly.

I let go of Sails, limped to the pile of goods, then picked up a box and hobbled to the front door. Sails moved ahead and opened it. She looked both ways and then hustled to the car and popped the trunk.

“Got to be fucking kidding me!”

“What? Z? Dead hooker?” I wanted to know what was causing the look on Anna’s face.

She left the trunk open and
as she left to retrieve another box.

I staggered to the trunk with the box in one hand, and then gasped and gawked. Now where in the hell were we going to put our goods?

The space was filled with boxes of canned goods. Someone had already crammed the trunk with corned beef hash, canned tuna, mixed vegetables, and – of course – spinach. There also were bags of noodles and boxes of instant mashed potatoes.

The irony of our situation really sank in when I heard the first Z round the corner. It staggered into sight, followed quickly by another one. They stared with milk-white eyes. Sunken cheeks. Matted hair. Blood-splattered clothing.

“We need to go now!”

Gunfire erupted inside; I knew the sound all too well. Joel was using his AR. Anna’s booming .357 sounded next, but then stopped, presumably so she could reload.

I lifted the .45, took very careful aim, and shot the first Z. The bullet spun the guy to the right, but I’d missed a direct headshot and only taken off an ear. I fired again, the count in my head ticking to four. Joel had taught me well. Four more and I’d have to reload. I shot the second Z, and this time scored a headshot, but the bullet punched through its cheek and tore a path of destruction. The Z’s jaw half-destroyed jaw unhinged as he continued to advance.

I dispatched that one, and then, with shaking fingers, reloaded.

From around the back of the building came at least a dozen more, and just to show how really unfucking lucky we were today, there were a pair of shufflers in the bunch.

“Joel. We need to go. Now!” I called into the building, no longer worrying about loud noised drawing a horde. They were already here.

Entry #12 – Do Over

08:00 hours approximate

Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central

The nearest Z went down as I emptied my magazine. I reached for a fresh mag, slapped it home, and went on firing. I got lucky with the first shuffler.
Real fucking lucky. If the real world were still around, I’d go out and buy a goddamn lottery ticket.

As the shuffler left the ground, I squeezed off a pair of shots. The first one missed by a mile, but the second one caved in the fucker’s head. I didn’t have time to let out a whoop, though, because the other shuffler was rounding the corner.

The shuffler flopped to the ground like a rag doll. Blood hit the pavement, splattering across my boots. I staggered back from his twice dead corpse, and almost went down on my bad ankle.

Gun shots
rattled inside the department store. I didn’t bother moving toward the blasts. If there was one guy equipped to take care of a few Z’s, it was Joel “Cruze” Kelly.

I reached for a fresh mag when I remembered I was out. I had a few shots left, but not enough to take down the half-dozen Z’s headed my way.

I pushed boxes around in the trunk until I could get my hand under the floor mat; I felt around for a tire iron. Found it in seconds, but the thing was one of those cross-shape deals, which are really convenient when you need to change a tire, but not so much when you need to bash heads.

I wanted to go back to the start of the morning and have a do-over, Groundhog Day style. Then I’d
have brought my damn wrench. Like a genius, I’d left the brand new pump action shotgun in the break room.

I had five rounds left in the magazine and a few in my pockets, but that wouldn’t help me. I’d have to reload while attempting to not get bitten.

I shot a Z in the chest and blew it off its feet. The bastard, dressed in nothing but a long t-shirt, rolled over and crawled toward me.

More shots echoed from inside, and I decided that it was probably a good idea to get in there where I had some backup. I moved to the door and slid it open.

“It’s me, Joel! Don’t blow my head off!”

The Z’s, somehow sensing that I was going to slip away, quickly converged on me. I turned with a fire lit under my ass.

I ran right into Sails as she slammed another case on the ground.

Joel came around the corner, firing.

“So glad to see you guys!” I must have been a sad sight, but I was damn sure relieved.

Sails didn’t reply; she just pressed something against me. I looked down at the Mossberg that Donny had entrusted to me.

“Go kill some stuff, Creed.” She said as she let go of the shotgun.

I made a mental note to never leave my primary weapon out of reach. If I had to strap it to my forehead, I was going to always be prepared in the future. Then I made another note to hug Sails—if we managed to survive this latest
clusterfuck.

I pushed the door open as I holstered my sidearm. Sails moved at my back. She pushed the
door all the way open and dropped to a crouch. I lifted the Mossberg 500, aimed in the direction of a Z covered in gore, and blew a hole the size of Texas through its chest.

I worked the grip as I hammered shell after shell into the breach. After I unleashed five rounds, I fell back. Sails covered me while I reloaded from the front rails.

Joel made it to our location with a box of goodies over his shoulder. His AR was strapped across his back, and he was firing with his handgun as he moved. BAMF indeed.

“No room. Trunk’s full,” I told him.

“Full?”

“Yeah, didn’t you guys check it before we left? It’s got enough food to last us a week.”

“The fuck?”

“Donny looked over the car after I found it, but he’s a lazy ass. He probably never even looked in the trunk.” Sails rolled her eyes.

Joel shrugged and ran to the vehicle. He kicked the rear door all the way open and tossed two cases of water and tea into the back. I moved around him as I reloaded.

Sails grabbed a box of bagged potato chips and candy bars and tossed it in among the mess.

“Sails, I’ll take the shuffler. Concentrate on the others and don’t let any of them near me.”

“Done.”

“And don’t shoot me in the ass.”

“If I do, I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

“Wait. Really?”

Sails shot me the finger,
then buried a pair of rounds into a woman whose bad day must have started 72 hours ago.

The shuffler was a greedy bastard, but he was smart. He leapt around behind the horde while I tracked him with the pump action. I dropped a Z by taking out his knees, and then ducked so I could see where the jumping asshole was hiding.

“Let’s just go, Creed!” Joel yelled.

“Right,” I said and backed up a few paces toward the car. “Right after I eliminate this shuffler.”

The horde had been down to five or six, but then a fresh bunch arrived to refill the ranks. There were at least twenty other Z’s when I finally got a clear look at the shuffler.

In life, he probably wasn’t more than five-foot-six. He was built, though, like a tiny linebacker. His arms were crisscrossed with wounds and his head was partially bashed in on one side. His one good eye swiveled to find me, so I lifted, aimed, and fired.

The big gun bucked against my shoulder.

My shot was off by a foot. It struck another Z around waist level and crumpled the guy.

Joel let off a burst of rounds as he closed in on my position.

“Let’s go, man.”

“That fucking shuffler. I swear he’s playing with me.”

“
Ain’t no damn zombie smart enough for mind games. Get in the car, Jackson.”

“I can take him.”

“Dude. We need to evac.” Joel was ready to go.

Sails hopped in the car. It roared to life as I fell back. Joel grabbed a few more items and stuffed them in the trunk before slamming the lid closed.

I hit the side of the car with my butt, then felt around until I found the door handle. I popped it open and slid inside. As I maneuvered, I never lost sight of the shuffler’s location. He’d been hobbling along behind the mass of Z’s while I worked the shotgun.

I was barely in the seat when Sails gunned the engine.

That’s when the shuffler showed me just how wrong Joel had been.

It had managed to move among the horde, up on two feet. I saw him just before he dropped to all fours. Then he was in the air and sailing toward us like a freaky jack in the box.

I didn’t have the chance to shoot it, because Sails slammed into reverse, then spun the car around in a neat half donut. The smell of burning rubber filled the air.

I was thrown against the door as she came to a halt. She worked the gearbox, and then I was pressed into the seat.

“Hang on to your nut sacks!” Sails yelled and the car lurched forward.

She only drove for a few seconds before she slammed to a halt.

Ahead of us, a fresh horde had arrived. There were more than thirty, and even if we had a freaking tommy gun, there was no way we could shoot our way free.

“Eagle One, we’re bottled up.” Joel spoke into his throat mic.

At least that damn thing was working, now that we were out of the building.

“He doesn’t have a shot. We need to get to the west side of the building so Markus can assist,” Joel said.

“How?”

The two hordes closed in, and there was that damn shuffler. I leaned over, stuck the barrel out, and fired at him.

“The hell, Creed!” Anna yelled.

Joel rubbed his ears.

It sounded like someone had tossed a hand grenade in the vehicle. My ears rang and everything came in like I was stuck underwater—muffled and far away.

The shuffler fell back. I hadn’t even managed to hit him.

“Sorry! This son of a bitch is fast and smart. I don’t suppose you have a grenade stuffed in one of your pockets?”

“Even if I did, you’d probably set the damn thing off in here.”

“Gimme a little credit.” I had to shout to hear myself over the ringing in my ears.

“Can you go over?” Joel turned to Sails and pointed at the median separating the parking lot from the street.

“I think so. I’ll have to go slow or we’ll be tossed out the window when I hit the little hill.”

The “little” hill was made of eight inches of curb that rose into a
hump which was covered in shrubs. Even if we got over the initial bump, I was concerned that we’d be stuck.

“Wait, we might…”

Sails hit the gas and eased up onto the curb. When she was over the hump, she punched it, and we bounced up and over the curb. I held on to the seat while also holding my breath. There were so many Z’s behind us that this was about to become a very bad day.

I leaned out of the
car, my body perched up on the door frame, then aimed the shotgun and blew a Z backward.

The shuffler faded into the crowd.

Joel Kelly popped out of the passenger side window so he could shoot a few Z’s.

We were in trouble.

The car managed to scream up the curb and make it onto the easement. That’s where we got stuck. Sails hit the gas, but the rear wheels just spun.

“Joel! In the back, quick!”

“What?”

“In the back! If we can get some weight back here, the car might move.”

He slid back inside and then slithered over the back of the seat to join me.

Two Z’s got wind of me and rushed. I shot one in the chest, pumped, and then clicked on an empty chamber.

Joel tossed me his sidearm and I shot until it was dry.

They still came at us.

“We need to haul ass!” Sails said, opening the door.

“I’m not leaving our stash,” I replied.

And I wasn’t. There was no damn way I was about to just run, knowing that we’d busted ass to get this stuff. Besides, my ankle was shot, and I wasn’t going to get very far unless my Marine buddy carried me.

“Let’s sit on the back of the car. It’ll move.”

“That is the stupidest damn idea ever,” I said, but I was already opening the door.

We dashed out of the car and hopped onto the trunk. Memories of barely holding onto the HUMVEE as we exited the naval station a few days ago flashed through my head. Joel fired while I reloaded the Mossberg.

Six or seven of the shambling corpses were right on us. A guy missing part of one arm flopped his good hand onto the trunk and managed to get a grip on my pant sleeve. Joel lashed out with his boot and kicked the guy to the ground.

Anna leaned out and shot a Z through the head, then gave the car some gas.

Show off.

Joel and I held on for dear life while the rear tires finally found purchase. I grabbed hold of the space between the trunk and the rear window; I managed to hold on even though it felt like my fingers were about to be ripped off.

Joel wasn’t so lucky.

He was bucked off the back as the car shot forward.

We hit the other side of the easement and I was nearly thrown off.

Sails slammed to a stop and jumped out of the car.

I rolled over and dropped to the ground. The pain was immense as my leg crumpled under me.

I managed to roll over, grab the shotgun, and fire at a Z that was less than three feet away.

I also managed to miss the fucker by a mile.

“Up, sailor!”
Sails to the rescue.

I got to my feet, slammed a fresh shell into the Mossberg, and shot the Z that was closing in on Joel. The explosion lifted the fat man off his feet and drove him backward into another Z.

I dropped to Joel Kelly’s side and rolled him over. He coughed, and then reached for his side, but his sidearm was still in the car.

“Where’s our backup?”

“Nothing on coms.”

Nothing on coms?
Markus was supposed to have our back. Roz was also supposed to be waiting to drive out and help us. What was happening back at Fortress Mark II?

Joel looked like hell. I helped him to his feet just in time for him to lunge forward and bury his blade in the head of a female Z. She fell away, dragging his knife with her.

Z’s to the side and now a few to the front. I reached for another shell and realized I’d exhausted all of the rounds on my pump action, so I turned it around and used it as a club.

The first Z to reach me took a face full of tactical stock. He staggered away but wasn’t dead. I kicked the legs out from under another while Sails got Joel Kelly into the car.

I dove back through the rear door as Sails slammed hers shut. She hit the gas, and we ripped over the easement and hit the asphalt hard enough to bounce me into the roof.

“Gun!” Joel said and reached over his shoulder.