Reavers (Z-Risen Series Book 4) (19 page)

16:10 hours approximate

Location: The Warehouse

Mateo stood on his lift with his hands in the air as we rounded a row of supplies. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret that things had advanced so quickly. If we'd had a little more time we could have rounded up a few boxes of goods. The way things were going, we’d be lucky if we made it to the truck.

Mateo had found a piece of corrugated metal and fixed it to the lift. It wouldn’t stop a heavy round, but it would keep the driver blocked from view.

“Do you seriously think that’s going to work?” I asked.

“Not sure, bro. All I know is that it’s better than nothing. Just stay next to the lift and I’ll get us there,” he said.

“It looks like there’s less shooting now,” Christy offered.

I moved to the opening and did a quick peek. Sure enough. The two forces were breaking off the engagement, or at least focusing on the Zs until they could start shooting at each other again. Several bodies of Reavers littered the ground, but so did a mass of Zs.

“Looks like we have a break in the action. Let’s put this plan in motion, Mateo,” I called back.

I pointed out a spot on the converted forklift that might offer Christy some cover. She crawled on the lift and tried to make herself small.

The paramilitary guys were done shooting at Bright Star, and Bright Star seemed to have had enough of them. Instead they concentrated fire on the Zs closing in, but after a minute or two of sustained fire, they retreated around their vehicles.

We didn’t have a long way to go to reach the truck, but we’d be in range of either side. Plus there were about a thousand Zs moving in on us. Mateo cracked his knuckles a couple of times and then engaged the lift’s engine. It whirred and he moved forward a foot.

I stuck to the side and kept low. Frosty got a little freaked out at the sound and tried to back away, pulling the leash taut. Instead of dragging the dog, I whispered a few words to her and rubbed her head.

Mateo zipped toward the big open door, and I did my best to keep up while sticking to the covered side. A couple of the paramilitary guys looked over at us like we were crazy. Thanks for the encouragement, guys.

We were in the open, and moving around the side of Costco.

###

43 - Flight

16:20 hours approximate

Location: The Warehouse

It seems like we’re always on the run
. Or cornered. Or we’re facing insurmountable odds. The thing is, I expected that to be the case as we fled the Costco. After all, we were leaving behind a roof and four walls. Sure, those walls were being threatened, but they could be protection from all the heavies creating the convoy.

Then I thought for sure we’d be overrun by a horde. A dozen shufflers would descend on us. The Reavers and the paramilitary dickheads would shoot us and the truck full of holes. We’d be just one more bunch of dead bodies for the Zs to feast on.

Instead, we made it out without any serious issues. Sure, there were a ton of Zs around. We had fire coming from multiple directions. The Costco was a crazy hive of people running here and there, trucks departing at high speed, and a general lack of any kind of organization.

All that aside, we arrived at the truck, got everyone loaded without a single round being fired our way, and fled the parking lot without being challenged. Mateo maneuvered the massive potholes. Frosty kept her head down as we made a run for it.

This had to be the first time everything had gone according to plan in months.

Too bad our good luck didn’t last.

###

16:25 hours approximate

Location: An airfield near Vista, CA

“The airfield is less than a mile,” Mateo said.

He had stopped in the middle of the road to check his map. He rolled it out between us, and Christy picked out the roads we needed to maneuver. We were currently blocked by a pair of wrecks near a street named Main. The only main thing about it was the fact that it was a pain in the ass.

Since escaping the warehouse, we’d run into a lot of issues. The roads were a nightmare as Reavers and Bright Star ran in every direction like a zombie chickens with their limbs blown off. Mateo had been forced to navigate around side roads, and on more than one occasion, a huge and freshly-created pile of bodies. Then we’d come to this standstill.

I fiddled with the radio and finally heard from Joel.

“Where are you guys? We have a plane. It’s mostly fueled, thanks to a huge stash of hidden cans. We got lucky with this one, brother.”

“Was it hard to find a thing with two wings and some kind of engine?” Sometimes it’s a good idea to use simple words with a Marine.

“No, smartass. There weren’t many planes left, and most had been broken into or vandalized. I’ll tell you about it as soon as we are the fuck out of here,” Joel said.

Mateo decided to hop the sidewalk and avoid the wrecks. He eased onto someone’s yard, then shot around the mess. We were back on the road in a few seconds.

“Where can we find you?”

“In the northeast corner. Sails is performing a pre-check now. Hurry, man. No telling if and when some major shit is going to go down,” Joel said.

I clicked off, and tried not to let my anxiety get the best of me.

Christy pointed out a cross street and Mateo shot across it, then came to a halt as a dozen Zs crossed a road. He sat idling a hundred feet away as they finished their mindless stroll.

A few minutes later, we located the field.

It was set on a small stretch of land. The airfield was surrounded by a chain-link fence that was at least ten feet high. Shrubs and small trees sat dying next to the location. I spotted a couple of homes, a convenience store, and of course, the ever-present strip-mall. All had been damaged by looters. One of the houses had been burned to the ground, while another still smoked where flames had licked the upper level.

The airfield itself was a mess of planes that had missing wings. A tiny jet of some kind sat with its nose on the ground. The hatch had been popped, and wires and hoses ran outside.

The flight tower was barely taller than a two-story home. Its windows had been smashed out, and someone had covered it in graffiti.

I popped the door open and stood up on the frame to try and find an entrance.

An explosion rocked the ground.

I sat back down and grabbed hold of the dash.

Mateo and I looked at each other. He opened his door and scanned the sky. If something big had just dropped, it would be seconds before we were vaporized.

A massive fireball rose in the direction of the Costco. I waited for the rest of the blast, but it never came.

Then another explosion rocked us.

“Not sure what the fuck they’re using over there, but it’s time to go!” I yelled.

“What was that?” Joel called over the radio.

“I don’t know, man. Something’s going on, but it’s not a nuke,” I said.

Joel breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Where are you?”

“At the fence, trying to find a way in,” I said.

We got back in the truck. Mateo cracked his knuckles and looked at the fence. “Fuck it.”

He hit the gas and the truck backed up onto grass and gravel.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I’m going through,” he said.

I caught a glimpse of something out of the side window. A shape. No, it was a
bunch
of shapes.

“Dude,” I said under my breath, and pointed.

Christy followed my finger and gasped.

It was an army of shufflers. Not just a few, no. Not ten or fifteen. We’re talking a fucking
army
of shufflers.

They came from behind houses, trees, and buildings. They walked, ran, jumped and shuffled across the ground. Men, women, and kids. They were dressed in tattered clothing, their lank hair hanging around their faces. Their green eyes seemed to bore into my soul.

I couldn’t help it, I started shaking.

Mateo swore, cracked his knuckles, then punched both feet to the floor. The rear wheels
turned
and then he took his foot off the brakes and the truck shot forward.

I reached for my seatbelt, regretting the fact that I hadn’t gotten it around me in time. I yelled for Christy to lock hers, but it was too late.

The chain-link fence didn’t look like much of an obstacle. It was thin strands of metal wrapped in a lattice pattern that looked like we could cut through it like a knife through butter.

We did, sort of.

We hit the fence, and it was like smacking into a fucking brick wall. The truck spun to the side, but the fence did give. I was tossed forward, and I got my arm out, hoping I didn’t get smashed into the dash. At the same time, the airbags deployed. And it was like being punched in the face.

The truck’s wheels continued to roll
on the remains of the fence, but something was blown. The front end had been pushed up so far I could see a crease in the hood.

Christy cried out, but Mateo, with blood pouring from his nose, kept on going.

We bumped over the ground, fence screaming as it was dragged behind us.

My ears rang and my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I touched my face and found blood.

I shook my head in the hopes of clearing the fog, and got a glimpse of the horror that pursued us: the shuffler army, close behind.

“Mateo, we got problems,” I said, but I felt like I was talking through a mouth full of marbles.

“There, I see them!” Mateo yelled, pointing.

Sure enough, Joel and Anna were jumping up and down in front of a little Piper airplane.

Mateo
spun
the wheel hard to the right, and the rest of the fence was shaken loose.

The truck sputtered, then came to a rolling halt. Mateo cranked the key, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

“Shit, what the hell!?” He banged on the steering wheel and tried the key again.

“Stop, it won’t start after the airbags deploy. The fuel pump gets cut off,” Christy said. “Happened to my dad once.”

I snagged the assault rifle off the floor, then opened the door and almost fell out. The ground swam as vertigo ate at me.

Mateo and Christy
fell
out of the truck as well, and we immediately made for Joel and Anna.

I looked behind me, press-checking the assault rifle as I stumbled over the unfamiliar ground. Behind us, the shufflers were closing in, the leader like a spindly giant. He was a good six-foot-seven, and he was so thin I thought I was seeing something out of a circus, like a guy on stilts.

Head ringing. Blood thumping in my veins. Heart pounding. I ran with Christy and Mateo.

###

17:00 hours approximate

Location: An airfield near Vista, CA

Joel didn’t waste any time. He dropped to one knee and opened fire with his assault rifle. Measured shots echoed across the airfield as we advanced on his and Anna’s position.

Anna was working on the plane, doing something with the left wing. She opened the side door and crawled inside.

Joel laid down fire while we hauled ass.

The shufflers hooted and called behind us. I swear they were breathing down my neck. Joel had to break off, because we were coming into his line of fire.

Feet directly behind me, beating at the ground.

One of the shufflers got a handful of my shirt, but I shook him off.

Another reached for Christy, but being young and terrified, she put on an extra burst of speed, small arms and fists pumping as she outdistanced us.

Mateo wasn’t so lucky. He must have been out of gas, probably thanks to running through the fence. The tall shuffler grabbed his shirt collar and pulled.

I spun to help, lifting my rifle, but another shuffler caught me around the waist and bore me to the ground. I made a half-decent throw out of the fall, foot catching the shuffler in the gut, and sent him sailing. Thanks, Captain Kirk, for all of the television training.

Joel took advantage of us being down and moved to the flank. He shot a couple of shufflers, but then he had problems of his own: a small group of Zs came around the flight tower and moved on him.

Anna leaned out of the airplane and fired a few rounds. Then she ducked back in and fucked around with the controls.

I gathered my feet and went after the shuffler who was trying to take Mateo apart.

With my rifle thrown wide, that left my trusty wrench.

The shufflers continued to gather as we squared off. Fucking asshole monsters. It was like they were there to watch us fight in the Octagon.

He’d had Mateo around the shirt collar and was in the process of lifting my friend off the ground. Mateo kicked the shuffler in the leg and got thrown to the ground as a thanks.

I swung for the shuffler’s head, but he slid backward.

I followed my weapon’s momentum with the shittiest roundhouse kick ever and managed to spin all the way around. At least I didn’t fall.

Another shuffler closed in on Mateo. He backed away on his butt, hand at his side. The gun came up and he fired several rounds. The bullets punched into flesh and knocked the shuffler down. They stared at each other from seated positions.

The spindly shuffler swung at me, and almost got a piece. I managed to shift the wrench back around and use it like a baton to block the blow. Then I shifted to my left foot and hammered the fucker across the neck with my hand. Wasn’t much, but it made him shuffle back.

He dropped to four thin limbs and studied me from a few feet away.

Behind him the rest of the shufflers had finished arriving, and had arrayed themselves in a semi-circle. They stared, green eyes bleeding malevolent hate.

The airplane started, first one engine and then the other. One of them choked, almost sputtered out, and then caught again.

Anna yelled something over the roar, but I couldn’t make it out.

Christy had stopped next to Joel and pulled her gun. She aimed, but there was no way she was going to hit a damn thing with me and Mateo in the way.

Mateo fired again.

Mateo’s shuffler keeled over to the side, but another took his place.

“Just leave us the fuck alone!” I yelled.

The shuffler’s desiccated lips drew back in something like a grin.

“Diiiiiie,” it hissed.

He was on me again.

This time I didn’t get any fancy moves in. I swung the wrench, but only got his shoulder. Christ, he was fast for a half-dead circus freak.

His clawed hands ripped at my clothes and sketched lines of fire across my midsection.

Joel advanced on the party, changing magazines as he moved. I had been spun around by the creature’s blow, and caught sight of my pal as he moved with grace, one foot in front of the other, assault rifle at the ready.

He fired at the tall shuffler, but another of the creepers pushed him aside and caught the round.

Joel reached us and stood less than fifteen feet away.

“Next time I won’t miss, you understand me?”

He had his gun trained on the spindly bastard, and his aim didn’t waver.

The shufflers seemed to consult with each other with weird telepathic nods and grunts. They must have come to a conclusion pretty quickly, because the whole mess of them moved.

We were so fucked.

While the tall one was distracted by Joel’s aim, I
stooped low and came up, the wrench flying up from near the ground. It caught the shuffler’s elbow, and bones snapped. He howled with fury and took a step back. Not being the smartest cookie in the group, I followed, knowing that I was stepping into the melee and probably straight to my death.

“Creed, get to the airplane,” Christy called from somewhere behind me.

Joel fired freely, hitting a couple of them. They dropped, or curled up around wounds. The tall one ducked
and used me for a shield, shifting left and right as I tried to align my body for a swing.

I pulled my handgun and aimed it at the creature’s body, knowing I had very little chance at a headshot this close, especially against a moving target.

I fired three rounds, but the fucker beat my hand aside and the bullets went wide. Then he hit me so hard I saw stars. The blow came from my left, and got most of my jaw and cheek.

I staggered back, head ringing again. I didn’t have anything left. The little bit of energy I’d been holding onto faded, as did the daylight.

“Just go, leave us,” I yelled.

Joel propped me up. He’d moved behind my position and caught me as I nearly went down. Still kept his assault rifle at the ready with his left hand.

Mateo howled as one of the shufflers went at him. They’d fallen together, Mateo fighting with everything he had. A knife had appeared in his hand, and he stabbed the shuffler over and over, but he was taking serious damage.

I lifted the gun and tried to fire over Joel’s shoulder, but he managed to bump the gun before I pulled the trigger.

“You’ll hit him, don’t,” he said.

Roz came to our rescue… in a manner of speaking. She must have been hiding before, but now she walked toward our
mass, hands at her side, eyes the deepest green I’d seen yet. They emanated fury like a proper ghoul.

Our opponents treated it like a respite and broke off the attack as she walked between us. Even the one who’d been fighting Mateo backed away.

She stared at the tall shuffler. They locked gazes.

“Please go,” Roz said, gesturing toward us.

Joel hauled me away from the group,
toward the plane.

I reached for Mateo, but he couldn’t grasp my hand. His midsection was half torn apart, and blood soaked his shirt and jeans.

“Go, just go,” Mateo said.

“Not leaving you,” I said, but Joel just dragged me away.

“I’m done, bro. Just get out of here,” Mateo gasped.

He shifted his gun to his right hand, then lay down. He put the barrel next to his temple and pulled the trigger.

I looked away.

Anna moved out of the running plane, and with Christy's
help, they got us into the back. Anna and Joel kept their guns trained on the shufflers as I pulled myself into the backseat. Christy aided me
as I got settled, and got a seatbelt wrapped around my waist.

“I’m going to get her,” Joel said.

“The fuck you are. Sit there and let her do her thing. You know you won’t make it, Joel,” Anna said as she screwed around with buttons on the dash.

The airplane shuddered forward a few inches.

“Don’t care. Not leaving her behind,” he said, and opened the door.

I heaved forward and grabbed Joel. I pulled him back into the seat and pressed my head next to his ear.

“Please, brother. We can’t lose you,” I whispered.

Joel fought me, but I held on tight.

The shufflers came to some kind of decision and moved as one, surrounding Roz.

The tall shuffler reached for our friend and pulled her close. He picked her up, and then tossed her on the ground like trash. Roz rolled to her right, then came up, hands extended. The pair grappled, but she was no match for his size.

The other shufflers closed in and ripped at her face, arms, and clothes.

Joel settled his shoulders, then lifted them and surged forward, breaking my grasp.

The plane rumbled across the grassy ground before we found pavement and bounced over it for takeoff.

He kicked the door open even as we accelerated.

I reached for him, but he yelled at me to stop.

Joel lifted his assault rifle and aimed. The gun went through a half-arc as the plane moved away from the battlefield.

He fired once and then again. The tall shuffler looked up at the gunshots.

The next round found the asshole’s head and splattered it.

“You got him, now close the damn door!” I yelled as wind rushed in.

Joel kept his leg extended, foot propping the door open.

“Joel, we won’t be able to get up to speed, and that fence is coming up real fucking fast,” Anna yelled over the air rushing inside the airplane.

He aimed one more time, and
the last shot hit Roz. She’d
still been on her feet, but had taken massive damage to her head and upper body. Blood poured freely from several deep lacerations. She dropped to the ground and then turned her head to watch us fly away. I felt like an asshole for abandoning her.

The next bullet found her head
and she fell over dead.

Joel swore, and let the airplane's acceleration kick the door closed.

He sat back in the copilot's seat and
put his hands
over his eyes.

I followed his lead by also sitting back. I pulled Christy close and
draped my arm around her shoulder.

Frosty lay her head on Christy’s
lap for a rub. Then she decided to lie down in the tiny space between us and the front seats.

The plane lifted off. As we rose into the air, Anna cut toward the north in a wide arc.

I tried to pick out the corpses of Roz and Mateo below, but we were already too far away.

###