The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) (25 page)

“Sheppard, keep your head down.” Miller turned to her people. “Covering fire!” Miller cried. She returned fire toward the police cars. Glass shattered and metal groaned, popped and otherwise complained. Their only protection was turning into a cheese grater as the police kept up a relentless field of fire.

Miller turned to Scratch. He now had a 9mm pistol in his hand.

“Scratch, we need to get Sheppard and find Brandon.”

He shouted back. “Brandon is at the back of the van with the machine gun, Penny.”

“Take that damned weapon from him and keep those officers’ heads down. Take Rat with you and see if he has any more of the M-4s.”

“I’m on it.” Scratch tapped Rat on the shoulder, and the two of them crouch-walked toward the back of the van. Miller saw a round narrowly miss Rat’s head by a couple of inches. They weren’t going to last long this way.

Hofstadter was still on the ground. Miller reached down and pulled two magazines from his belt. Then she ran to hide behind a small out cropping of rock near the rear tire. She opened up again to cover her friends, trying to keep the police from popping up and returning fire. The moon lit up the clearing and Miller felt exposed.

Fully automatic fire came from the back of the van. Finally. Apparently, Scratch had succeeded in getting control of the weapon.

Miller called out to Scratch and Rat. “Cover me, I’m going after Sheppard.” She ejected her empty magazine and inserted a new one. The automatic fire intimidated the police and they took cover and crawled under their cars for safety. Miller waited a few seconds to let them get nice and scared. Then she ran out into the night and headed toward Sheppard.

Scratch and Rat opened up again, but while firing they left their position by the back of the van. They came forward to support Miller. Brandon was with them finally, now holding Scratch’s pistol. He ran ahead of the others and joined Miller at Sheppard’s side. Sheppard looked pale and was clearly in pain. Bullets thwacked into the ground and rattled the leaves above their heads. The cops were largely pinned down, just risking random shots from behind cover. Miller and Brandon picked up Sheppard and dragged him back toward their van. Once behind the van and small outcropping of rock, they all stopped for breath.

“Brandon, check Sheppard for wounds.”

Brandon was already doing that.

Miller turned to Rat. “Sitrep?”

“The tires are out on the van,” reported Rat. “We’ll need to get the hell out of here, but it looks like we’re going to have to steal some police cars to do it.”

Scratch opened up again. “Got one of the bastards, Penny.”

“Yeah, but how many are left?”

Rolf stepped forward, seemingly from nowhere. He was standing up, indifferent to the battle around him. He was holding Dudley by the leash. The dog was panting and its eyes were wide and wild with terror. “Walter’s been counting. You’re people have done well. Four dead, three wounded, and only one still healthy and active. He’s the one still shooting at you from the police cars.”

“Cease fire.”

They all slowed and then stopped the barrage of bullets. Some men could be heard groaning in pain. Eventually, the lone officer stopped firing as well.

Miller poked her head out from behind the rock. “Hey, friend? Looks like you’re all alone out there.”

There was no response, but the man had stopped shooting. One of the other cops asked for help. A third gurgled as if dying.

“I got an idea,” Miller continued. “How about you come collect your wounded, and we’ll just go away and call it even.”

“No chance,” called the officer. “I can’t let you into Idaho. I’ve got my orders.”

“You’re outnumbered and out-gunned. We haven’t been bitten. None of us are infected. Even if you survive this fight, you’ll be all alone in zombie country unless you knock it off now and patch some of your friends up. Think about it, I’m offering you a chance to survive.”

Silence again.

“Come on, you know it’s the best option. Put your weapon down and show yourself, and I assure you we’ll hold our fire. I’m an officer of the law.”

“Bullshit!”

“This is Sheriff Penny Miller from Flat Rock County, Nevada. You have my word.”

For a moment they all thought she’d won out. The officer started to show himself in the dusty light. Something changed his mind. Instead of complying, the officer ducked down behind his vehicle.

“Ah, shit,” Miller whispered. “Here we go.”

Hofstadter’s radio came to life and they all heard the conversation loud and clear. “Headquarters, this is Twenty-Two Oh Two. Officers down. Requesting reinforcements. We’ve got invaders from the south.” The prick then gave their position, then added, “Suspects are armed and extremely dangerous.”

Miller turned to Rat and Scratch. “Go capture that son of a bitch.”

Rat turned to face Miller. “By the way, it’s
sonofabitch,
Penny,” she said, and smiled back at Scratch. He smiled too, and they went forward to take out the last remaining police officer. “And I may just kill him on general principle, if you don’t mind.”

“No, only if you have to.”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Miller heard Scratch call, as he danced around the edge of the patrol car. “Duty ain’t worth dying for.”

“Listen to him,” Miller called. “Don’t make us kill you.”

The officer popped up from behind his vehicle. He pointed his weapon. Scratch and Rat, accustomed to zombie kills, fired at the same time. The officer’s head disappeared in a mist and his body dropped to the dirt. It did not get back up.

Miller watched as Rat and Scratch ran around checking the other casualties. Finally, Miller could hear Rat’s voice in the distance. “All clear, Penny. It appears the enemy is all dead or dying.”

“Shit.” Frustrated, Miller waited for the two of them to return. “Okay, gather weapons, ammo, and keys. Brandon, get Sheppard up. We’re taking the police cars. Let’s get the hell out of here before reinforcements show up.”

“Or something else,” Sheppard groaned, clutching his wounded shoulder. “This would be a picnic for a horde of zombies.”

“Don’t even think about that,” said Scratch. “Penny, we just screwed the pooch again. Now every cop in Idaho will be looking for us, along with zombies, Hellfire strikes, drones, cannibals, and the entire U.S. fucking Army.”

Rat nodded. “Don’t forget the bikers are after us, too. And that’s just for starters. Jesus, our enemies are mounting steadily, Penny. I sure hope you have a brilliant move or two left up your sleeve.”

Miller could only shrug. They were both right. “We’ll just deal with what’s in front of us, folks.”

A drop kissed her cheek. They all looked up. A storm had gathered above them. The puddles of blood around the clearing began to dimple with rain drops. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

They drove right through the night. All that time the light rain increased steadily until it finally became a torrential downpour. The trip was miserable. They were nearly blind in the storm, and the stolen police cars had so many holes in them that Miller and her crew were soaking wet. Every once in a while, they caught something on the police radio, but the car Scratch was driving had taken several shots to the dash, so the signal came and went like their good luck, and could not be counted on for long.

Scratch drove one car. Miller, Brandon, and Sheppard rode with him. Rat got stuck driving with Rolf and the dog as passengers. She stayed glued to their back bumper all night, and they rarely managed more than a crawl. As the sun rose behind the thick clouds, Miller looked over a map they had found in a glove compartment. From what she could tell, they were still about one hundred miles from Mountain Home.

“With me driving, that’s an hour flat,” commented Scratch, with a wry smile. The rain drummed on the roof and thick drops drooled through the bullet holes in the roof to soak his clothing. The downpour continued, as a sliver of sun peeked between two huge mountain peaks. At least the sunrise through the pines was gorgeous.

“Not an hour in this rain,” replied Miller. “And we’re getting low on gas, too.” She squinted through the windshield. “Worst of all, we’re going to get washed right off the road, if it doesn’t let up.”

Sheppard examined his wound and winced. “She’s right, Scratch, and we’ve got to find a place with some bandages and antibiotics. I’m losing too much blood, and we haven’t got the facilities to do a transfusion. I don’t want to make too much of this…”

“Copy that, Karl,” said Scratch. Miller looked at him askance. He seemed agitated and off balance. His statement felt like someone else’s. That was just the kind of pseudo-military thing that Terrill Lee would have said. Miller had thought Scratch was done with trying to fill Terrill Lee’s place in the group. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they all still missed him way too much.

“What’s that?” asked Brandon.

Miller turned in her seat. She could see something perhaps a quarter mile ahead, kind of squatting on the grass. Scratch sped up a bit and checked the rearview mirror to make sure Rat was still on their tail. Focusing forward, Miller breathed a sigh of relief and hugged herself against the chill. “That could be heaven.”

They drove closer and saw that it was a warehouse—more like a barn perhaps, but low and long, or maybe some kind of feed lot? In any event, it looked large enough to both offer them shelter and allow them to keep the police cars out of sight. They needed cover from the drones or any police aircraft.

Miller checked the load in the pistol resting on her lap. “That appears to be our next stop. Pull over there, Scratch. We’re going to have to presume that it’s occupied by the dead or the living dead, which means we’ll be clearing the place manually. Brandon, I need you to help me out.”

“You going to be okay, Karl?” There was genuine worry in his voice. He was becoming one of the team.

“I’ll live.” Sheppard smiled, though the pain was evident on his face. He slouched down on the back seat, leaning to one side. His skin was pale and clammy, and damp from the rain. They had covered him with an emergency blanket they had found in the trunk of one of the cruisers—one of those silver survival blankets—but he was still shivering.

Scratch pulled off the road and drove onto a small dirt drive toward the warehouse. Miller turned to make sure that Rat had seen the change of plans. The second car turned off the highway as well. Rat had stayed right on their tail, with Dudley and his unstable owner sitting in her back seat. Miller went back to studying the warehouse.

The weather cleared some during the few minutes it took to leave the tree-lined road and approach the isolated building. Scratch drove all the way around it once so they could check out the doors and windows and get a sense of the state of repair. The place looked to be in decent shape. It was some kind of large barn or garage and the roof was relatively new. They’d be dry inside. Barns sometimes had trucks and tractors and therefore extra gasoline.

Scratch parked next to the building, under a wide wooden overhang, as far from view as possible. Rat parked next to him so they were perfectly side by side.

The rain picked up and a gust of wind slapped them just as Miller opened her door. The wind blew the water sideways and it soaked Miller from head to boots. She ran back to Rat’s police car.

Dudley and Rolf watched from the back seat, both of them blank-faced. Rat cracked her window open a few inches. “What’s the story, Penny?”

“We’re stopping here. There may be fuel inside. This place will allow us to hide the cars safely, and Karl needs a first aid station. The damn rain is going to wash us all out to sea soon, so I say we just wait it out.”

“Wow, another strange building in zombie territory?” Rat looked tired, and as skeptical as she sounded. “What on earth could possibly go wrong?”

“I know, I know, believe me. It’s taking a big risk.”

Rat yawned. “Right, but then, what the hell isn’t?”

Miller leaned closer to the window. “Rolf, you and Walter arm up, and get Dudley ready. We’re going to need his nose.”

She turned and hunched her shoulders. Her hair was a mess.

“Wait!” It was Rolf from the back seat. “It is not my place to object to your decisions, but this is a terrible risk we are taking. I agree with my beautiful chauffer, Ms. Rat. Please don’t go inside that building. Bad things may happen.”

Miller knew he was probably right, but they were low on fuel and exhausted. There was only so much the human body could bear. Her people were wet, tired, unhappy, and needed a break, so she was completely uninterested in arguing that point.
Any
point, for that matter. But then something else occurred to her. She returned to the window. “Rolf, what does Walter think?”

Rolf looked surprised for a moment. He then closed his eyes. He opened them suddenly, and a slight smile crossed his face. “Walter says never mind, go ahead, that you can handle it. Let’s go.”

Miller and Rat exchanged a wry glance. Rat smirked a bit and opened her door. The two of them joined Miller in the rain.

Scratch had discovered some thick tarps hidden in a stack under the overhang and he and Brandon quickly covered up the police cars. The roof and the earth-tone canvas should effectively camouflage them from the air. Miller stood back and nodded approvingly. Scratch was waiting with one of the M-4s in his arms. Brandon was holding onto Sheppard, who looked completely miserable, with watery blood seeping from his wound. Miller was concerned that Sheppard may go into shock at any moment. They were all wet and shivering. Rat got out of her police car, also armed with an M-4. Rolf had his submachine gun, reloaded with 9mm ammo from the police. Only Dudley was happy. He stood in the downpour looking like he wanted permission to go splash around in the puddles.

The sun rose up higher, still peeking through black and angry clouds. A spider web of lightning flashed across the horizon. The thunder that followed was not far off.