Rotter Nation (5 page)

The four-vehicle convoy departed the storage facility and headed north along Route 28. Windows noted the vehicles were the same ones that had raided her camp a few days previous: a white Jeep Liberty Sport, a military-style Humvee, a black Hummer H3, and a green Jeep Wrangler with the top removed. Price drove the Wrangler and led the way, with Windows riding shotgun. Four men traveled in the military-style Humvee. Each of the other vehicles carried two heavily-armed men.

She still felt apprehensive about her situation, though not as much as she did last night. So far, Price had kept his word. No one had tried to hurt her after she whaled the shit out of Meat. The only visitor had been a woman who brought Windows dinner. She assumed the woman to be about thirty, although her hollow expression and sallow skin made her appear much older. Windows had tried to talk to the woman who refused to answer, constantly shifting her gaze to the open door as if afraid someone would hear her if she spoke. The woman stayed long enough to drop off the tray and rushed out. She had been the last visitor until Price and his men came to get her.

At least the weather made her feel more optimistic. It was a beautiful autumn morning, with a warm sun and an almost cloudless sky. The surrounding countryside contained only woods and wildlife. It had been months since she had left the confines of Fort McClary. She found it refreshing to see the outside world, even if deep down she knew rotters infested it. This would have been a pleasant ride if she hadn’t been a prisoner.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“There.” Price pointed to a white wooden fence along the right side of the road a hundred feet ahead of them. He stopped the Wrangler near a gate, and the other vehicles pulled in behind him. A tall man climbed out of the Humvee and approached the Jeep. Windows saw him in the side mirror. He stood over six feet tall, with a lean yet muscular body. He had close-cropped dark hair and a well-groomed beard and mustache. Though physically attractive, something about his sneer, the glare in his blue eyes, and his demeanor gave him a menacing aura. He approached the Wrangler from her side, and Windows felt a shiver race down her spine.

Price turned in his seat to face the man. “This is Greg Carter. He’s our resident sniper.”

Carter lifted his hand to the rim of his baseball cap with the NRA logo on it and tugged. “Pleasure to meet you.”

His smile left an emptiness in the pit of Windows’ stomach.

“You’re going to be helping him out today,” said Price.

“How?”

Price ignored the question and directed his comments at Carter. “Are you all set?”

“Give me five minutes to set up,” said Carter.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Carter raised the weapon. “It’s a Macmillan TAC-50 .50 caliber long range sniper rifle. Best little weap—”

“Radio me when you’re ready,” Price interrupted him.

Carter smiled and walked off. The other three men from the Humvee joined him. They made their way down to the trees bordering the right-hand side of the field and disappeared into the woods.

Price tapped Windows on the shoulder to get her attention and, when she looked, pointed to the field. “See out there?”

Windows followed his line of sight. She noticed eight rotters shambling around at the far end of the field. “Yeah.”

“Your friends are responsible for that.”

“My friends?”

“The ones who came through here about two weeks ago and murdered my men. Their convoy must have gone through the area like a bat out of hell. Drew the attention of every deader around. Even after your friends were long gone, these things continued to follow them. Every day for the past week we’ve had to comb the area and clean up their mess before these things make it to our place.”

“Oh.” Windows did not know what else to say.

“I spent a lot of time setting up our compound, making sure we had plenty of supplies, and making it secure. It took three months and half a dozen of my men to clean the deaders out of the surrounding area. Now we have to start from scratch thanks to your friends.”

“Is that why you destroyed my camp?”

“I admit, my men overreacted when they did that,” said Price with a tone of sincerity. “They were taking revenge for what had happened to our own people.”

“Why did you let me live?”

“You can thank Meat for that. He made sure the others kept you safe.” Price chuckled. “You almost found out why last night.”

Windows involuntarily crossed her arms across her chest.

The radio attached to the Wrangler’s dashboard crackled and Carter’s voice came over the speaker. “We’re in place.”

Price picked up the microphone. “Thanks. Good hunting.”

He shifted the Wrangler into drive and pulled into the field, pushing open the wooden gate. The Liberty Sport followed. Price drove toward the far end of the field. The living dead heard the two vehicles approaching and turned. Spotting the Jeep, they began to lumber forward. Price stopped in the center of the field, and the Liberty Sport pulled up on the driver’s side.

Windows stared at the rotters. Though still a few hundred feet away, they were getting too close for comfort. She glanced over at Price. “You said you needed me to help Carter. How?”

“Like it or not, you’re now a member of my compound. And everyone who lives on my compound provides some service for the common good, whether you work in the compound or are part of the hunting group.”

“Or become a sex slave for your men?”

“I’m not going to lie. There are women on the compound who do that.” Price grinned. “You made it clear last night that wasn’t how you wanted to contribute.”

“Then what do you need me to do?”

“You’re going to serve as bait.”

Price grabbed Windows by the back of the head and slammed her face into the dashboard. A bolt of pain shot through her when her nose shattered, and she felt blood pouring down across her lips. Something slapped hard across her left wrist. When she raised her head, she saw one end of a pair of handcuffs on her wrist, and Price attaching the other end to the Wrangler’s steering wheel.

“What are you doing?” Windows gagged, blood flowing down her throat.

Price grabbed his M&P15-22LR semi-automatic rifle as he climbed out of the Wrangler, and then opened the rear door of the Liberty Sport. “I’m giving you a chance to be useful. The deaders will be attracted by the blood and will swarm you. That’ll give Carter a clear shot to take them down. So you better be nice to him.”

“What do you mean?”

Price laughed as he climbed into the SUV. “You are fucking clueless.”

When the Liberty Sport drove off, Windows jerked on the handcuffs, with no effect. She tried sliding the other end over her wrist with no success. Price had attached it too tight. Glancing at the ignition, she hoped to find the keys, but Price had taken them. She was trapped out here with a swarm of rotters approaching.

Carter’s voice came over the radio. “I hear you did a number on Meat last night.”

Windows grabbed the microphone and pressed the talk button. “The prick tried to rape.”

“He just wanted to be friendly.”

“My ass.”

“That’s what I said. He wanted to be friendly with your ass.”

A moan caught Windows’ attention. A rotter in a tattered and soiled business suit neared her from the right. As it drew closer and smelled the blood, it became more agitated, rushing toward her in a stumbling gait. When it got to within ten feet, a loud crack emanated from the woods, followed by the squish of a bullet entering its skull. Its head exploded, showering the front of the Wrangler in congealed blood and pieces of skull and brain.

“You know, Meat is a good friend of mine,” Carter resumed. “You should be nicer to him.”

“You need to choose your friends better.”

“Is it really smart to piss off the guy who’s saving your life?”

Another moan, this time to the left. A rotter in a paramedic uniform, its left arm missing below the elbow, shambled toward the Wrangler. Carter waited until it neared the front fender before taking it down with a head shot. As it dropped, Windows saw another one directly behind it, a little girl in a Sleeping Beauty nightgown. A shot from Carter tore its head clean off, the force of the bullet tossing the tiny body to the left.

“You didn’t answer my question,” said Carter. “Is it really smart to piss off the guy who’s saving your life?”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I am. It doesn’t matter to me whether you make it through this or not.” Another shot from the woods caught the head of a naked female rotter. “You should be nicer to me.”

“Fuck you!”

Carter chuckled. “That’s what I had in mind.”

A rotter in a priest’s uniform approached the front of the Wrangler. It slammed its hands on the hood and snarled. A second later, its head exploded, creating a cloud of congealed blood and splatter. The body fell forward onto the hood, rested for a moment, and then slid off to the ground.

“Did I just take down a priest?’ asked Carter.

“What?” Windows had pissed herself.

“I asked if I just took down a priest.”

“What does it matter?”

“I want to know.”

“I don’t….” Windows’ fear threatened to overwhelm her. “Yes, you did.”

“Good. I hate those motherfuckers. Got molested by one of them when I was an altar boy.”

A rotter in a nurse’s scrubs dragging its twisted left leg drew closer, coming around the passenger side of the Wrangler. Windows waited for Carter to take it down. It got to within five feet before its head exploded. A stream of gore sprayed across the inside of the windshield, some of it catching Windows in the face. She frantically wiped it off with her hand.

“So how are you going to do it?” Carter asked.

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me. You mentioned fucking me.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Have it your way.”

The radio went silent. Three rotters remained. The closest, wearing a wedding dress no longer white from dirt and gore, had approached to within twenty feet. Close behind shambled a rotter in a sheriff’s uniform and another dressed only in slacks and a tattered shirt. She waited for Carter to take them out, but nothing happened. She began tugging again at the handcuffs, even though she knew she couldn’t break free. When she looked up, the bride was within ten feet and came around to her side of the Wrangler, with the sheriff following. Tattered shirt rotter circled around on the driver’s side. And still the gunshot never came. Her fear was turning into panic.

Raising the microphone to her lips, she yelled, “Carter, are you there?”

No answer.

The rotters were now less than three feet away, and Windows couldn’t go anywhere. She used her right leg to lash out at the bride, kicking it in the chest and face. The sheriff moved to the bride’s right and leaned over. Windows retched when the stench of decayed flesh and rotting meat vomited from its mouth. She clutched its shirt in her right hand and locked her elbow, holding the living dead in place. To her left, tattered shirt rotter came up alongside the Wrangler and reached for her. Windows batted at it with her left hand.

“You want some help?” Carter asked over the radio.

Windows stopped swiping at tattered shirt rotter long enough to grab the microphone and bring it to her mouth. “Yes!”

With her hand gone, tattered shirt rotter leaned in close. Still holding the microphone, she punched it several times in its decayed face.

“I thought you said you’d rather die than fuck me,” Carter snickered. “Have you changed your mind?”

Windows stopped her attack on the rotter and screamed into the microphone. “I’ll fuck you! I’ll suck you! I’ll let you do whatever you want to me! Just get them off me!”

“I’m holding you to it, baby.”

A second later, a .50 caliber bullet slammed into tattered shirt’s skull. Its head vaporized, showering the inside of the Wrangler. Windows screamed, drowning out the moans and snarls of the other two rotters. She didn’t hear the gunshot that ripped open the sheriff’s skull, but she did feel its corpse drop down on top of her, and the congealed blood that oozed from its neck onto her chest. She didn’t realize that Carter had decapitated the bride until her leg pushed the headless body back onto the ground. It ended as quickly as it had started. The only sound came from her whimpering. Windows was vaguely aware of being covered in gore, and of sitting in her own urine.

A minute later, the Liberty Sport approached and parked across from her. Price climbed out and strolled up. Through her tears, she saw he sported a condescending smile. He came over to her, grabbed the sheriff, and pulled it off of her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Windows shook her head. Snot flew from her nose.

“Did any of them bite you? Did you get any of their blood in your mouth?”

“No.” She snorted and gagged on her own phlegm.

“Good.” Removing keys from his pocket, he leaned across Windows, unlocked the end attached to the steering wheel, and then unlatched them from her wrist. Wiping off the gore with a handkerchief, he slid the handcuffs into his pocket and let the handkerchief drop to the dirt. Placing his hand on her left cheek, he lifted her head until their eyes met. “Are you ready to go back?”