The Beginning of the End (Book2): Road to Damnation (24 page)

Beck dropped his arm
full of rifles and lifted his slung M4. He rolled out around to the
right side of the vehicle, while Sawyer went left.

It sounded like someone
was making popcorn as the M4’s popped off rounds. Daniels watched
as the runners fell and tumbled to a stop.

“This is gonna
attract a lot of attention,” Sawyer said as he slammed in a new
magazine. “Let’s get the rest of the weapons loaded. We leave in
sixty seconds.”

A few more quick trips
and all the weapons were loaded. They funneled into the vehicle, and
somehow Bunker ended up in the drivers seat. Two more runners were
crossing the park at a full sprint.

“Go, go, go,”
Daniels called out.

Bunker dropped the SUV
in gear and stepped on the gas just as two of the runners slammed
their faces against the window.

“Holy shit! They’re
insane,” Beck said.

Master Chief Sawyer had
a somber look on his face, “They’re not insane, Beck. They’re
starving.”

Bunker swallowed hard,
and his voice broke a little when he asked, “Which direction?”

“West, toward the
Hudson River.”

The streets littered
with cars made traveling in the Tahoe difficult, but Bunker still
managed to twist and turn through the mess.

That is, until they hit
9th Avenue. A trash truck was flipped over on its side, and two cars
blocked the way around it. The sidewalks were out of the question.
They supported massive scaffold structures.

Bunker stopped behind
the two cars and looked over to Sawyer for advice, “What do you
think, back up and go around the block?”

The quick answer was,
“No. When Beck and I were in Fallujah, the Republican Guard would
block the streets with vehicles just like this. Then the turds would
hide out on rooftops and ambush the shit out of us,” he stopped and
looked back at Ceci and Destiny. “Sorry, ma’am’s. Anyway,
they’d block the road just like this. After a few times of being
caught in the shi…stuff. We learned how easy it was to move
vehicles. Drop it into four-wheel drive, inch up until you’re
touching the back axle, and step on the gas.”

Bunker did, and the car
slid out of the way. It almost seemed too easy. Once they were clear
from the roadblock, Daniels couldn’t see the river, but he could
see where the skyscrapers stopped. He knew they were close.

It was time to text Ty,
and tell him to stay away from the city. Daniels sent the text,
hoping it wasn’t too late.

“Mom, he’s okay.
He’s in the city with some other people.” The phone buzzed again
in my hand, displaying a new text message. “There’s something
wrong, Mom. Dad said to stay away from the city. He’ll text us
later, when he decides a safe place to meet. I think we should skip
the hotel and go right to the city.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Chevy
interrupted. “I thought your dad said to stay away from the city.
Why would we go right there?”

It was so obvious, I
couldn’t believe he was asking me, “He must be in trouble and
doesn’t want to put us in danger.”

“Or, he’s perfectly
okay and aware of some danger, and he’s trying to protect us
against it. Maybe he’s attempting to figure out a safer way out of
the city. Text him back, tell him you’re worried and ask if
everything is okay.”

I let out a deep sigh,
I hated being wrong and, this time, prayed that I was. I punched the
letters on the phone, watched as the send status bar moved across the
top of the screen. This time, the text sent almost instantly.

If we were lucky, dad
would reply any second and put mom and my fears to rest. I lowered
the phone and looked back at mom. She concealed it well, but her face
with filled with doubt.

“What do you want to
do, Mom?”

She hesitated, before
answering, choosing her words carefully, “I know what you’re
thinking, honey. You feel the need to race right to the city and save
your father. I can understand that. Honestly, I want to do the same
thing. But we have to remember; your father’s a big boy. He can
take care of himself and knowing him; he’s probably running around
trying to save as many people as he can. I think we should find a
hotel, get a good night sleep, and leave at first light. We’re only
four hours away. We can be there by 9 AM if we have to be. Besides,
Charger and I really need to pee.”

“Me too,” Sidara
said.

“So do I…like a
Saratoga race horse.” Sage joked.

We all started
laughing, as I turned off the exit, “Hotel it is.”

* * *

As we came down the off
ramp, we passed a strategically placed McDonalds. In a different
world, this would have been a good quick place to grab some food for
my weary travelers. The thought of food made my stomach rumble. The
sound was contagious, as everyone started to complain about being
hungry. “We’ve got plenty of food in the back of the Humvee. We
can eat as soon as we get our rooms.”

As luck would have it,
there was a mom and pop hotel right down the street from the
restaurant. It looked like the kind of place that catered to the
lower income travelers, looking for some fun at the track. The rest
of the year it would remain mostly empty, other than the occasional
male separating from his wife, or possibly a secret meeting place for
a forbidden affair.

That was good news for
us. The racetrack was shut down at the end of summer, so there were
no guests this time of year.

A lone Volvo sat
abandoned at the far end of the parking lot. Judging from the way the
owner concealed it behind the hedges led me to believe the reason for
their stay was the latter.

I avoided the car and
parked on the opposite side, next to the manager’s office. I turned
off the engine and watched Cowboy’s peculiar actions.

He pulled his Humvee
over the curb onto the grass and carefully drove behind the building,
knocking over a few saplings in the process.

“What the hell is he
doing?” I questioned.

“He’s hiding his
truck in the back,” Chevy answered as he jumped out and started
stretching.

“Huh.” That was a
good idea on his part. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I started the
vehicle back up, and Chevy stuck his head back in the window, “What
are you doing?”

“I’m gonna pull
around back like Cowboy and hide the Hummer.”

Chevy shook his head at
me, “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose? I thought the whole point
of having two groups was to keep everything split up. If something
happens in front, we will get the Humvee in back, and vice versa.”

That made perfect sense
too. I felt sheepish. “You know what, Chevy? You’re pretty smart
for a moron. I knew I kept you around for more than your good looks.”

“You’re such a
dick,” he muttered.

I stepped out in time
to see Herman come running around the building. A spike of adrenaline
surged through my body. I pulled out one of my Glocks and ducked
behind the engine block. He had his arms extended, and he was
flapping his lips, pretending he was an airplane. Thurman chased
after and appeared to be disciplining him, “Herman, get back here.
We don’t know if it’s safe.”

I watched as Thurman
continued to chase him through the parking lot, shaking his fists.

Then I heard a voice
behind me, “You seem a little jumpy. Is it because of your dad?”

Sage was standing with
her head cocked, giving me a worrisome look.

“Yeah, I guess so.
We’re so close now. I just want to get to him.”

Cowboy and Luther
joined us a moment later, “This place looks pretty deserted.”
Cowboy said, as he handed me a bottle of water.

“Yeah, but just to be
safe, I think we should check all the rooms and try to avoid using
guns if at all possible.”

“What’s it matter
as long as our rooms are clear,” Luther asked.

“It’s going to be
pitch black out here in about fifteen minutes. That makes it tough to
see if anyone is coming. The less noise we make, the less chance we
have of attracting attention to ourselves. The last thing we need is
a zombie banging on a door from inside a room, trying to get out, and
attracting more zombies.”

I reached in the Humvee
and pulled out my Ronin swords. I gave one to Cowboy, “Here use
this. We’ll start clearing the rooms right away. You and Luther
start on this side, and Chevy and I will head to the far end. I have
a feeling the owner of that car is in one of those last rooms.”

Cowboy looked across
the lot at the vehicle, “I was thinking the same thing, but maybe
you should take Thurman.”

“Why is that?” I
asked.

Cowboy glanced over at
Chevy, who was showing his bite mark to Sidara. Chevy’s meager
attempt of hitting on her.

“I think your pal has
had quite a day, you know, being bitten and all. And after spending
the last hour in the Hummer with Thurman, I think he has an ax to
grind with these zombies.”

“Can I trust him with
a weapon?” I asked.

“I think we’re past
that now,” Cowboy said.

I looked across the lot
again. I could tell by Chevy’s animated arm movements, he was
hitting on Sidara and telling her the story of his zombie encounter.

“Hey, lover boy,” I
called out.

Chevy spun around, mean
mugging me.

“Do me a favor and
give Thurman your tomahawk. He’s going to help me clear some
rooms.”

Thurman heard what I
said and came jogging over, “I’m ready, Ty. Just tell me what you
want me to do.”

Chevy left Sidara long
enough to hand me the tomahawk and pass on a message, “Remember a
few minutes ago when I said you were a dick, Ty?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I was wrong.
You’re not a dick. You’re an asshole.”

He turned red-faced and
started walking back to Sidara.

“I’m sorry, Chevy.
I really do love you.”

He responded by not
looking back and raising his middle finger.

“I love you too,
buddy.”

I handed the tomahawk
to Thurman, “A word of warning. I had to kill a woman in a car
dealership in Plattsburgh with that thing, and it got stuck inside of
her head. It was pretty gross.”

Thurman examined the
dried blood and hair that covered the weapon’s edge.

“If you guys are
ready, let’s go. Remember, no guns unless it’s absolutely
necessary.”

Thurman and I headed
for the far end of the lot. I expressed my concerns about the
abandoned vehicle, and he agreed that there was a probable threat in
one of the end rooms. We got to the first door and latched onto my
arm, “How do we want to do this?” he asked.

“We’ll take it
slow, one room at a time. I’ll give the door a few knocks and then
we’ll wait and listen. If we don’t hear anything, I’ll try the
handle and see if it’s unlocked. If it’s not, you pop it with the
awe on the backside of that tomahawk your holding. We’ll swing it
open and move in slow. Don’t forget to check your blind spots, like
behind the door. Are you ready?”

Thurman took a couple
quick, deep breaths and answered, “Okay, I’m ready.”

I raised my Ronin sword
and lifted a fist to knock on the door.

“Wait!” Thurman
said.

I froze mid-knock.

“What if we do?”

“What if we do what?”
I asked.

“What if we do hear
something, when we knock?”

“If that happens, you
give the door a kick, and I’m going in swinging. If anything gets
in my way, I’ll chop it in half before it has a chance to do
anything. Got it?”

“I got it,” he
answered.

I gave the door a few
raps, “Okay, here we go.”

* * *

By this time Cowboy and
Luther had already cleared three empty rooms, alternating who made
initial entry. Luther checked the last one, so this one was Cowboy’s.

He jiggled the handle
and listened. A high-pitched moan came from the other side of the
door. He looked at Luther and didn’t have to say anything. He
already had his knife raised. Cowboy lifted the sword above his head
and gave Luther the okay to kick in the door. With a brisk wallop,
the door flew open, pushing the zombie standing on the other side
backward, onto her ass.

Cowboy charged into the
room and brought the sword down splitting her brain into two perfect
hemispheres. He lifted the sword and looked to the bathroom where a
noise startled him. He cocked the sword back, resembling Babe Ruth
when he was about to hit a homerun, “Come out Mr. Zombie,” he
taunted.

Something metal clinked
against the porcelain sink. He was distracted for a brief second,
wondering what the noise could have been, when a runner shot out of
the bathroom leaping toward him. Cowboy swung the sword but reacted
too slow. His wrists hit the runner’s shoulder. The blade missed
the zombie and flew out of Cowboy’s hands.

The two men, one living
and one dead, tumbled over wrestling. Cowboy latched onto the
runner’s neck and yelled for his partner, “Luther, where the fuck
are you?”

Cowboy held off the
runner, while he clawed at his face.

Hisses and gurgling
sounds came from the dead man. Cowboy was losing the battle. These
runners were stronger and faster than normal zombies. He screamed for
Luther again and wondered where the hell he was, when he felt the
runner’s body spasm. Luther sunk the knife deep into the top of the
man’s skull.

“I got him.” Luther
reveled.

Luther reached to help
Cowboy back to his feet. He was bitching at his partner, “Where the
hell were you? That thing came out of nowhere. Did you see how fast
it was?”

“I did, it took me by
surprise too. That’s why it took me a second to kill it. You should
be thankful I got him, before he got you.”

“Yeah, I guess so,
but next time, please try to be a little quicker on the draw. Let’s
finish up the last few rooms and meet back up with the rest of the
group.”