LZR-1143: Evolution (27 page)

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Authors: Bryan James

Tags: #Zombies, #Lang:en, #LZR-1143

BOOK: LZR-1143: Evolution
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I chuckled, despite the danger this truck might pose to us. It looked like this vehicle was designed to drive through the undead, and I marveled at the skills required to put it together.

“What the
fuck
is that thing?” said Kate, moving next to me and staring outside at the idling bus. Throngs of undead were surrounding it now, thick on the sides and in front.

The driver appeared not to care, and remained stopped, engine idling, lights blazing, as if calmly contemplating which direction to go.

“That thing is a kick-ass ride outta Dodge,” I said, mind churning quickly with an idea.

“Uh, no,” said Kate. “Whatever plan you have about getting on board that thing is half-assed and stupid. We don’t know who’s in there, how many there are, and what the hell they’re doing here. There could be twenty of those hillbilly fucks in there, and I don’t know about you, but I got the severe willies when that girl was talking about her ‘friends.’”

She spit out the last word as if a curse, and I understood the hesitation. Clearly, the poor girl had been exchanging ... things ... for food, and anyone that took advantage of that situation was lower than low. Deserving of a one way ticket to zombie-town, frankly.

But something about this bus seemed different. I remembered the flash of what I thought was a school bus passing by when we were at the house, and it hadn’t stopped. Merely minutes later, the rest of the mob had arrived. If they were together, why not stop? I asked Kate the same question, and she looked worried, and frowned, thinking.

Outside, the bus engine revved and started forward, slowly.

In the hallway, the dresser was buckling, and we heard the sound of cracking wood. Ky squealed softly in fear and raised her crossbow defensively.

I turned to Kate.

“Listen, we can’t stay here. You know that. We need to take a chance. If all else fails, we always have the whole superman thing going on, right? Plus, we’re fairly well armed and might be able to bargain a ride. We have to try something. We’re out of options.”

She turned to Ky, who was seated on the bed, bravely maintaining her composure despite her fear. The engine revved again as the bus started to turn away from the house, as if to drive past the gas station and off to the North.

Kate looked at me and nodded briefly, and I jumped to my feet, slamming the window up and popping out the screen. I grabbed the police officer's shotgun and checked the chamber, unholstering my flashlight as I stepped carefully onto the shingled roof.

Below, the sound of the window coming up caused several heads below to snap up and see me moving on the roof. Several high moans greeted me, and more heads turned, mouths moving as they turned to flock at the edge of the porch.

I wasted no time, turning on my flashlight and kneeling quickly and pumping the shotgun, firing a quick shot into the air. The punch of the gun slammed into my shoulder, and the loud cracking boom of the shot rang my ears. Inside the room, I heard Ky shriek.

“Dresser’s down,” said Kate briefly, then disappeared into the room.

I cursed, and fired again.

The bus had stopped on the first shot.

Bright red reverse lights illuminated a thick throng of creatures clustered at the rear of the vehicle, which bore an identical serrated metal plate designed for plowing through bodies.

Absurdly, the beeping of the vehicle in reverse followed the red lights, and was an amusing soundtrack by which to plow through the flock clustered behind it. The full effect of the serrated plate was horrific. Creatures were caught in the teeth and dragged underneath, shredded to strips under the thick steel. A wet smear of dark blood on the cement as the bus backed further up the road was the only evidence of the creatures’ peril.

The driver continued the reverse until it was parallel with the front of the home.

Amazingly, the driver’s window opened. Enclosed as it was within a wire mesh frame, it still seemed risky.

A head emerged from the window, shouting to be heard over the din of moans and the sound of the powerful engine idling as he cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted.

“Howdy!” he yelled.

“I thought y’all would be in this area. Saw your abandoned truck, and the tracks back on Route 89. Need a lift?”

I smiled and yelled back. “If you don’t mind!”

Behind me, Kate was helping Ky out onto the roof. The loud pop of her pistol echoed out into the night. Ky’s voice was bothered, but calm. This was one tough kid.

“They’re pushing at the door. We’re coming out.”

I glanced back and Kate was shutting the window behind her, and helping Ky higher on the roof.

“Y’all stay put. I’ll be right there!” Then his head disappeared into the bus.

I paused, stopping mid-shout.

How the hell was he going to be right here?

He pulled forward, crushing several creatures into mush. Then the absurd beeping began anew and the red reverse lights illuminated again.

He revved his engine once, then tires squealed as he slammed his foot on the gas and the bus shot in reverse, aiming for the front door of the house with the rear of the bus.

“Shit!” I shouted, looking back to Kate and Ky with time to simply yell, “Hold on!”

The frame of the house shook as the bus collided with the porch. Below me, the roof buckled as the vehicle splintered a support post. The window behind me shattered, and the bus came to a halt directly below us, within a four foot jump from the shingled roof. From behind the shattered glass of the bedroom window, several rotten faces appeared, arms akimbo and grabbing at the frame.

Gesturing to Kate and Ky, I hurried them to jump on the roof of the bus. With the shotgun,
I turned to the window, resting the butt of the gun on my hip as I pulled the trigger from six feet away. Two heads thrusting forward into the night air exploded in the frame of the window, and bone fragments and hair rained over the creatures clustered behind them as more filled the gap. I exhausted the shells from the shotgun, turning the open window into a mass of clotted blood and gore, before backing up toward the drop.

Kate was jumping down as I reached the ledge; already on board, Ky was yelling and pointing at the creatures clustering around the bus. There were hundreds, and the bus was shaking slowly from side to side. She gripped the side rail along the edges of the bus roof, nervously waiting for me to jump on.

In front of me, the zombies inside the house were squeezing through the window, hands slopping through the remains of their predecessors, mouths opening and closing, moans joining the chorus of their brethren from the ground level as I turned to the ledge and jumped, landing on all fours on the roof. Kate instantly slammed her hands against the reinforced metal hatch, yelling at the driver to go.

The creatures in the window stumbled to the roof, and the first one fell and rolled, gathering steam as it clattered down the angled roof and flew onto the bus. Two more followed, both keeping their feet as they stumbled to the edge and fell forward onto the roof, splaying out on all fours awkwardly.

More followed onto the roof, but as the first zombie raised its head and looked at me, the engine revved and the bus moved forward, away from the house, which was now crawling with the undead.

 

Chapter 28

 

I backed up on all fours, realizing as I did so that the empty shotgun was still in my hand.

The hatch was opening, as Kate discovered the locking mechanism and began to turn the wheel that released the lock. Behind me, Ky shouted as the first creature moved forward.

I moved to my knees, feeling my blood surge as the zombie struggled to stand on the uncertain, moving roof of the vehicle. I brought the shotgun around, swinging it by the barrel. It slammed into the zombie’s knees and I heard the crack of bone snapping as its knees buckled under the blow. The stock of the gun vibrated as the corpse tumbled to the side, and into the waiting arms of hundreds of creatures below.

The remaining two didn’t bother to stand; they simply began to crawl forward toward me as I raised the gun again, noting the shattered stock of the weapon with some measure of surprise. The first creature was a teen dressed in a slimy white dress shirt over black slacks, a single eye dangling from a shattered face. The other eye was trained on me as I sought to maintain my balance as the bus accelerated.

I waited for it to come within range, and lashed a quick kick out at the opening mouth, boot making contact with the cheek bone and forcing the creature to the edge of the roof. It rolled into the metal bar at the cusp of the metal roof and flopped over, arm grasping for purchase as it fell.

I turned my head to meet the last creature only to hear Ky’s voice complain loudly. The roof was empty, the last creature having disappeared.

“Shit,” she said simply. She stared briefly, then shrugged and moved toward the hatch, crossbow in her hand. She looked up at my questioning look.

“Lost one of my arrows,” she said, disappearing into the bus. From below, I thought I heard the sound of a dog barking as I watched the horde disappear into the dead night. The moans faded into the distance as I grabbed the edge of the roof and followed Kate and Ky into the vehicle.

As my feet hit the metal floor, I was greeted happily by a very eager dog, whose cropped tail whipped back and forth faster than I could track, and whose entire body shook with happiness at having met a new friend.

“Don’t mind him none,” said the voice from the front of the bus, which was separated from the main cabin by what appeared to be a plexiglass wall, complete with a hinged door—now open—and heavy duty lock. “As you can see, he hates people. All Vizslas do

its bred into ‘em.”

The voice dripped with sarcasm in the same volume as my hand now dripped with drool from the over-stimulated animal’s grasping of my hand in its gentle jaws. The body continued to shake in happiness at meeting new people, and I reached down and ruffled the ears affectionately. I had always loved dogs, but Maria had been allergic. I used to love to visit my cousin, who lived in Arizona with several dogs, and spend hours outside throwing the ball to them.

Ky was on the ground now, and the animal reared up on its hind legs and wrapped its front paws around her shoulders in the canine equivalent of a hug. She squealed in delight, and avidly tried to avoid the lashing, sloppy tongue that was whipping around her cheeks. Kate smiled softly as we both looked around the interior.

It looked nothing like a school bus. Heavy steel beams crossed at regular intervals, reinforcing the sides of the cabin; in the rear, a simple cot was welded to the floor, and a medium sized fridge was bolted to the exterior wall. A crude bench was fashioned on top of what looked like a one hundred gallon tank, and above that, canned and boxed food lined several rows of shelves, with netting installed on the edge to prevent falling or dislodging. In the front of the cabin, a small flat screen television with large, digital aerial antennae sat screwed to a small desk next to a citizen band radio; a huge map of the Delaware, Maryland and Virginia peninsula was tacked to the wall behind the television.

All of the windows had been blacked out, but four shotgun embankments at regular intervals along the walls had been fashioned from window frames and reinforced with galvanized steel around the barrels. Only eye slits and enough play for the guns to swivel remained. Two were fully retracted, and two were still protruding from the left side.

I caught Kate’s eyes, and she shrugged. I raised my voice to the driver, hoping not to shock him or worry him by approaching.

“Nice place you got here,” I said collegially, and Kate groaned quietly. I looked back at her with a “what else do you say to the guy that just saved your ass in a totally zombie-proof bus?” look. She rolled her eyes.

On the floor, Ky had been forced to the ground, and the dog was actually sitting on her chest, happily bathing one side of her face while she smiled and squirmed.

“Y’all make yourselves at home. I’m gonna park here in a sec, then we can chat.”

I spared a glance for the fully stocked gun rack inside the driver’s cabin, which encompassed the driver’s seat, the stairwell into the bus—where passengers used to get on board, but which was now permanently welded shut and reinforced with metal plating—and one row behind the driver’s seat, all of which were enclosed in plexiglass reinforced with thick metal bars and wire mesh. Several shotguns, automatic rifles, and pistols were secured to the rack, along with a large, serious looking compound bow.

The bus slowed down as Kate flopped into a chair near the television—also bolted to the floor through one leg, allowing the chair to swivel on the screw. Ky had managed to disengage from the canine welcome wagon, and was sitting back against the wall, the dog’s head now panting in her lap as she scratched his ears.

“What’s his name?” she yelled, as the driver brought the bus to a stop and engaged the emergency brake.

“Romeo,” he said, standing up slowly and stretching his arms as he turned around. He didn’t move toward the gun rack, and I relaxed slightly, moving my hand to my lap from my side, where I had been ready to draw if necessary.

Ky smiled as he lifted his head to his name.

“I like it,” she said.

The man grunted once, in an affectionate way, as he ducked through the small opening to the cab and entered the main cabin.

“Seemed like a good name for the little bastard, since he can’t stop licking people,” he said gruffly, pouring a cup of coffee from a dented metal container lashed to the wall.

He took a sip, then added, “Or his balls for that matter.”

Ky’s face went from smile to frown as she started to wipe her cheek vigorously. Romeo watched for several seconds before closing his eyes, completed nonplussed.

Our new friend appeared to be in his mid-seventies, and had a full white beard underneath a lined and worn face. He wore a simple blue shirt underneath overalls, and clutched an unlit pipe in his teeth, bright blues eyes surveying his new passengers as he sipped from a dingy coffee mug that read “World’s Best Grandma.”

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