Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts (9 page)

14:00 hours approximate

Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central

The eighteen-wheeler took up most of the road. The driver must have really slammed on the brakes; the trailer had come to a stop at a thirty-degree angle. Sails hit the shoulder, then spun her wheel to the right and slammed the car to a halt the second we were obscured from view. Joel was already moving, grabbing his rifle and backpack. Roz jumped out with Christy in tow.

“Later dude,” I said and waved at Christy.

She tried to say something but her words were lost as the door shut.

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid out there,” Joel said as he kicked his door open.

“Fucking stupid is his middle name,” Sails said, cutting me off.

Joel reached over the seat and gripped my hand in his.

“Just stick to the plan.”

“You too, motherfucker. Don’t make me come find
you and piss on your corpse.”

Joel was out the door and we were zipping away. Any longer and the gang on our ass would have caught on. This was a terrible idea.
A horrible idea. I was hurt, could barely walk, but if Joel didn’t go with Roz, how would they get Christy away from the approaching shitstorm? I’d do just about anything to protect her.

I watched them fade against the side of the trailer, then take cover behind the wheels. Joel poked his head out and motioned. Roz and Christy kept low
and rolled into the little gully that separated the two sides of the freeway.

I wondered if I’d ever see Joel Kelly again.

When I’d presented the plan, my great plan, the others had looked at me like I was crazy. Then Joel had nodded and pronounced it sound. Sails said she’d drive because she already felt like a chauffeur.

“I’ll go it alone,” I’d said.

“Don’t even think about it. You can barely walk.”

“It’s okay. I’m fast. I’ll just pull off the road and then disappear into an apartment complex or mall.”

“That’s your big play? Just disappear? I never figured you for the hero type,” Sails said.

“I have my moments.”

“He does. Like taking out those trucks at the hotel. Fucking brilliant.” Joel backed me up with a wink.

“I’m going with you, so let’s just jump to the part of the conversation where you stop saying no.”

“Oh, Sails. I’d never say no to you.”

She’d shot me an unreadable look in the rear view mirror.

Sails pushed the pedal to the floor; we burned out before the rear tires caught. Thirty seconds later, she had to slow down. Christ. We were back to the slowest cat and mouse freeway chase of all time.

We drew a quarter-mile away, then a half-mile. I waited, breath held, for the first of the
jackwads to find Joel and company. If the Marine and the girls stuck to the plan, they would be pressed against the side of the gully, waiting until the road was clear.

My first order of business, as Joel had taught me, was to count rounds and weapons. We didn’t have a
lot, thanks to losing the HUMVEE, but we had a couple of handguns and I still sported the Mossberg shotgun.

I counted out shells and found enough to reload the Mossberg and fill the rails.

I’d used all of the frag grenades.

I still had my Colt M45, but I was low on ammo.

“How you set for weapons, Sails?”

“Not great. I’ve got about twenty rounds for my
three-fifty-seven. Joel left another gun. I think it’s a nine. Some kind of Sig. Cute little piece.”

“Sexy.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just an inside joke between me and Joel. We picked up the gun last week. It’s a long story.”

“Tell me later,” she said, but I couldn’t read her tone.

“Any rounds for the nine?” I asked.

“A spare mag, and I think we have a couple of boxes in the trunk. Keep digging.”

I did, but Sails had to yank the car to the left and right a couple of times and I nearly ended up on the floor. I reached into the trunk again and felt around until I found my backpack, then dragged it through the tiny opening. I pulled out my giant wrench and placed it on the seat next to me. There wasn’t much else in here. I’d had a small stash of food but that was gone. I still had the logbook, and I had a bag of weed I’d completely forgotten about, the brown bag that Joel and I had found during one of our missions, back when we’d been safe and sound inside of Fortress Mark I.

I glanced outside.

The
jackwads were closing in at an impressive rate. One of the pickups was pushing through smaller wrecks to make a path. A couple of high-end motorcycles zipped around, but they seemed hesitant to close on us.

I went back to scrounging and finally located some shells. 9MM. The next box turned out to be a heavy one, packed with 5.56 shells. I put those in my backpack under the assumption that I’d be seeing Joel in the near future.

I wanted to keep feeling around but we were running out of road. Ahead of us lay a huge pile up of cars and trucks – so big that there was no way we’d be able to get around them.

I focused on the eighteen-wheeler we’d left far behind and was gratified to find that the
jackwads, my new name for the assholes in pursuit, hadn’t stopped. That meant that Joel and the girls had managed to evade detection.

Part one of the mission accomplished.

Part two was going to be a bitch.

###

14:10 hours approximate

Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central

“We’re out of time, Creed,” Sails said.

“What about there?” I pointed just ahead.

The off-ramp was jammed with cars. Rotting bodies lumbered between the abandoned vehicles. I marked the exit on my internal map, then reached for my
log book and quickly jotted it on the back.

“No way we can get through that mess,” I muttered.

I looked back again, but the eighteen-wheeler was too far in the distance to make out.

The
jackwads weren’t. They were closing, but they also had to pick their way around cars and wrecks the same way we’d had to. They had numbers on their side, though, and could take alternate paths where available. We had maybe a quarter-mile of breathing room, and I didn’t see how we could possibly stop the car and be effective on foot. My big play had been with the knowledge that my ankle and foot were a throbbing mess and that I’d be unable to run. I was hoping something would just pop up, some stroke of genius.

Turned out, that was Sails’ department.

“No. Look at where the railing is broken. Someone pushed over the curb.” She motioned to a part of the freeway a bit closer.

She was right, but the opening led to a big drop. Even if we did manage to survive, we’d surely have broken bones, maybe a snapped neck or two to contend with. I could see it now: lying in a pool of blood while
those asshole stood over us and laughed at our soon-to-be corpses. Maybe they’d be nice and give us a quick exits, bullets to our brains. More than likely, we’d have to face that McQuinn guy, his bald head gleaming in the morning sun while he pummeled us, laughing maniacally.

“Are you crazy, Anna? That
drop’ll kill us.”

“We’re not going to be in the car, Jackson.”

“So now that we’re on a first name basis and all, mind telling me how you plan to get the fuck out of a moving car?”

“We’re going to dive out just before it hits the overpass and we’re going to be going fast. It has to look real, like we made a mistake.”

“Are you crazy? That shit wouldn’t even work for Bruce Willis,” I groaned.

“Just hear me out,” she said and then laid out the entire plan.

“Alright, Sails. I got nothing better.”

“Jackson, what’s wrong with using my first name? Too confusing?”

“Yeah. I got a one track mind. Guys in the military use last names, but friends use first names - sometimes. There aren’t any rules.”

“Call me whatever you want, Creed. Just don’t call me late for a three course meal at Sizzler.”

“You didn’t use my first name that time. What, we aren’t friends?”

“You have two last names. What’s your middle name? Oh…right.” She shot me a shit-eating grin in the rearview mirror.

###

14:15 hours approximate

Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central

I dug out some soda and stuffed a can in my front pocket. Anna popped the top of one and drained it while we maneuvered around a car that had bodies lying across its hood. As we roared away, one of the bodies twitched. A head covered in gore – one eye smashed in the socket, the other dangling by its nerve bundle – turned after us.

A motorcycle closed to within fifteen feet, so I lifted Anna’s
hand gun, aimed through what was left of the rear window, and fired three rounds at his bike. The last one hit the front tire, and then he was flying through the air.

My ears rang like a bitch, but it was worth it. That would teach them to stay back.

We neared the section of the road Sails had pointed out. It was just before the off-ramp and, with the exception of two vehicles, was clear of major debris. Now that we were away from the city, lines of trees were starting to form up on either side of the freeway. We would be smart to get lost in them if we survived the next few minutes.

I moved to the right side of the car while she worked the case of soda around with her feet until she got it where she wanted it – right next to the gas. Stupid crap car didn’t even have cruise control, so we settled for something a little more permanent: a weight on the pedal.

I put my backpack on, held onto the wrench with one hand and clutched the shotgun to my chest with the other. Sails holstered her gun and leaned across the long seat to pop open the passenger door.

“After we hit, we move fast. Duck and cover. Got it?”

I cracked open the door and eyed the ground as we sped over it.

At ten or fifteen miles an hour, I knew it would probably hurt. That was logical. I didn’t, however, count on it feeling like I was being tossed against a brick wall by a professional wrestler.

The asphalt met me with gruesome glee. I struck it with my elbow, rolled as I tried to bleed off some momentum, and ended up smacking the back of my head into the ground. I got a glimpse of a pair of clouds, but they disappeared as I tumbled on. It was like they were mocking me.

Anna Sails did a lot better than me. Where I was all battering arms and legs, she was an elegant dancer. She made the art of jumping out a moving car look like a modern ballet. She hit the ground on her side, tucked her arms, and spun over three or four times.

I came away with enough bruises to look like I’d been pounded by a boiler tech.

Our car found its way between the two others in its path, hit the overpass, and sailed into the air. It crashed below with a crump. There was no special-effects explosion, no rending of metal. It just fell with as much grace as can be expected from a thirty-year-old Chevy that was rode hard and put away wet.

I staggered to my hands and knees and shimmied behind the nearest vehicle. I was still seeing stars but at least I was mobile. Anna looked me over, then nodded.

We’d ended up next to an SUV that housed a couple of the dead. Two bodies hung out of a broken
passenger window. A line of cars stretched all the way to our position at the very beginning of the off-ramp.. I spotted the first of the creepers a second and a half later. He was covered in gore and being followed by a kid a few years younger than Christy. They were about a hundred yards away and didn’t see us. I let out a sigh of relief as we continued to pick our way from hiding spot to hiding spot, but with each step my foot screamed in pain. My knees hurt and my elbow was numb.

I’d done a good job of holding onto the Mossberg. The stock was banged up pretty bad and the sides were scraped, but I didn’t find any sign of the barrel being blocked.

We kept the bikers on our six and hustled. Up in a crouch, we moved from the cover of one car to another. The jackwads would be here soon, and I had a feeling our little stunt wouldn’t fool them for long.

A fresh group of Z’s broke from the tree line. This time it wasn’t just a pair. There were six, and they were playing follow the leader just like the previous two.

“Not good,” Anna Sails said.

We had them at twelve o’clock.
McQuinn’s guys were closing in.

“Any way we can go over the side, maybe hide?” I tried to peer over, but even if there
was a small ledge we could hide on, anyone checking out the wreck would just have to glance sideways to see us. Then it would be a shooting gallery, and we would be the targets.

“Don’t think so. Shit, Jackson, this is not what I had in mind.”

“Really? Because I thought this whole jumping out of the car thing would end well for us.”

The traffic jam was so bad that, even if we managed to find a car with the keys in it – and we managed to get inside and the gas hadn’t gone stale and we cleared the bodies out and the car started – we’d still be stuck, because the cars ahead or behind were either separated by a few inches or had actually been stopped due to impact.

The next mob of Z’s was four times the size of the last one. They came out of the trees and staggered after the first two groups.

“Last stand?” Sails pulled a handful of shells out of her pocket.

“Wait. I have an idea. It’s a shitty one, but I can’t think of anything else.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears,” she said.

I didn’t have time to explain, so I called out to the army of the dead.

“
Psst!” I hissed loud enough to catch one or two Z’s attention. A little noise went a long way in this undead world.

A man craned his neck around to get a look at me and then broke from the pack. A woman, bloated with rot, followed.

“What the fuck!” Anna hissed.

“Follow me,” I said and moved around her.

I hobbled to a pile of corpses next to a blood-splattered Suburban and tugged out the freshest looking corpse. He’d been dead for a few days, at least, and was already smelling pretty wretched. The guy was big and round. I dragged him off the pile. Another body lay next to the big truck, so I grabbed his pant leg and pulled until I could see beneath the vehicle.

“Under. I’m right behind you,” I said.

Anna Sails looked at the bodies, looked at the tiny space, and then turned pale.

“No fucking way am I getting under there.
”

“Want to stay here and explain to the guys we just shot and blew up that you aren’t looking for any trouble and just want to be on your way?”

She stared at me for a full five seconds. Motorcycles closed in on our location with a loud rumble, and that really got the army of undead’s attention.

They came toward us in a slow stagger, milky eyes focused on our flesh.

Sails made a disgusted noise and crawled under the truck. I watched her slim form until it was completely out of sight.

I yanked out my knife and placed the point on the dead guys belly, pushed it in, and cut up until I hit his rib cage.

Putrid intestines erupted from the wound, carrying shit and black blood. I used his shirt sleeve to dig in and grab his stomach. I dragged that out and let it flop across his lap.

A form lurched inside of the car and slammed hands against the driver side window.  Eyes, green and wild with hatred followed me as I dropped to the side of the big vehicle. Before I slid under, I smeared blood on the door handle and door. I slid in next to Sails and then pulled the body next to me. There was barely any visible light thanks to the pile of bodies on either side of the SUV.

I turned until I was facing Sails but didn’t say a word. I swear that I could still feel her eyes burning into me.

We waited. I did my best to keep the contents of my own stomach in place.

###