Slow Burn: A Zombie Novel (56 page)

“
Fuck yeah! Get some!” he shouted.

When the last of the zombies dropped to the ground, Dan climbed off of the camper roof and was given a hug by a young man who had just killed his first zombies. That earned him a playful punch in the nose.

“
I’m happy too, kid,” Dan snarled, “but if you touch me again, I’ll feed you to the zombies myself.”

Everyone was still on edge, as several in the group topped off their weapons while others looked around nervously.

“
Watch out for the ankle biters,” he reminded everyone. “I don’t wanna lose anybody else.”

All around him sporadic shots were still going off, with nervous shooters hammering any fallen corpse that twitched.

Dan walked back to his vehicle, kicking himself yet again for getting out of the truck with only a couple of magazines for his rifle. He looked up at a nearby four story building and thought he caught the flash of a reflection, maybe from a scope or binoculars. When he reached his bus, he grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked back up at the spot. Seeing nothing, he studied several other windows but failed to catch any movement.

He knew somebody was watching them, but whom?

He finally set the binoculars down, grabbed several more rifle magazines and headed back up front. The truck with the flat tires needed to be cleared out, and he wanted it done as fast as possible. He told everyone he passed to stay on their toes and watch for anything suspicious.

“
Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here before another group like that shows up!” Chris yelled, while heading back to his truck.

Stephen told a couple of guys to jump in the truck with the flat tires and pull it out of the way.

“
I don’t care if it ruins the rims; just get it out of the way. Clean that debris off of the road and get the end of the convoy through that funnel,” he ordered. “Let’s get back to the prison before we run into any more nasty surprises.”

I listened as Dan relayed what he had found on the road, and we made sure to send out a spotter so that it wouldn’t happen again. More and more zombies began to show up, and everyone was getting spooked. Finally Stephen gave the word that the road was cleared and I headed back to the large RV. Mattie was nervously awaiting my return.

“
What the hell was all that?” Mattie asked as we climbed back aboard the bus.

“
I’m not sure. I think we may have been bushwhacked. God only knows what sorts of people are lurking out there along with the undead.”

My comments apparently struck a nerve, as Mattie visibly shivered at the thought.

“
I heard we lost four people,” she replied sadly, with a tear in her eye. “Who would want to do such a thing?”

Crossing the bridge to the east side of town while licking our wounds, we observed a vehicle patrol from Kettle’s band of religious nut jobs returning from the south. They looked menacing but appeared to be minding their own business. The occasional zombie was dealt with harshly either by gunfire or the front bumper of a vehicle. They had fires lighting up their perimeter against failing sunlight, and it appeared that they had heavily fortified a much larger area than we thought. Several entire city blocks were now enclosed. I could see that they had indeed taken advantage of the natural barriers of the river on their west and raised train tracks to the east. Nothing strange there. We would have done the same. We gave them a wide berth and passed without incident.

By the time we got back to the prison and my huge bus pulled into the gates, there was quite a crowd forming and all were cheering. Amazing what a little bit of shelter could do to make someone feel like they were human again. Several women were crying tears of joy as their men showed them their new homes. Exiting the bus as kids ran around with the endless energy of youth, it almost felt like a different world, like maybe we had a chance. Within minutes Logan and Kleaner were arguing about where to put the cameras, and I let out a satisfied chuckle. There were several grills going, and the smell of cooking food filled the air.

“
Who do you think was responsible for that zombie attack?” Chris asked as he walked up and handed me a hotdog. “I checked out that building before we pulled out and really didn’t find anything.”

“
I don’t have any idea,” I replied. “It could have just all been a coincidence, and the zombies could have just been trapped in there and we finally gave them the motivation to escape. But more than likely some asshole put them up to it for God only knows what reason. We have to be careful and watch out for all kinds of enemies, the living and the dead.”

Stephen found a parking spot for his new home. It was a comical sight watching him struggle to back the large RV into just the right spot. After several attempts and a string of curses, the RV finally came to a rest and Stephen got out, setting the ground supports to level out his home.

“
Look what’s walking this way,” I said around a mouthful of hotdog and nodded at an attractive brunette who was walking towards Stephen.

“
He is blushing already,” Chris joked.

Stephen looked up at my comment to see a familiar face approaching him. Her name was Amber, a good looking bartender with long brown hair that had worked at a local sports bar named Triple Threat. Stephen would frequent it often for Monday Night Football. The food was good, the beer cheap, and it didn’t hurt that Amber was quite an attractive host. She kept a loyal following of local horny young men, Stephen included.

“
What’s up stranger?” she asked playfully while reaching for a hug. “Long time no see?”

“
Amber!” Stephen responded with a dumbfounded look on his face. “Wow, I’m glad to see you’re alive!”

“
Don’t look so surprised to see me, Stephen; I can take care of myself when I need to!” Amber replied with a laugh. “My loser boyfriend lost his mind and ran off after a couple of days, and I never saw him again. I ended up making my way to my uncle’s house eventually. He’s a survivalist nut just like you and had all kinds of stuff packed up in his attic. We hid out at his place for a while and made our way here today after seeing this place lit up like a Christmas tree the last few nights.”

“
I don’t even know where to begin, so much has happened. I’m glad you’re okay and finally here,” Stephen said with a large grin. “We could use your good looks around here.”

“
I’ll contribute more than just my looks,” Amber snapped. “I was already helping in the gymnasium. Anyways… it looks like you have a lot to do at the moment. I saw you drive in and just wanted to tell ya good job on everything you got going here!”

“
Thanks, Amber, that means a lot coming from you,” Stephen replied, indeed blushing. “We’re all a team here, and I’m just doing my part.”

“
Always so humble, Stephen. Well I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. I’m gonna need to get my uncle on that list for a camper too,” Amber stated with a wink, turned and walked away.

Stephen was still watching her leave, admiring the view from behind, when he was brought crashing back to reality by me yelling his name.

“
Stephen!” I yelled jokingly. “Quit staring at her ass and come get your fat dog. He just snatched the rest of my hotdog right out of my hand! I wanna kill the little bastard! There’s probably not that many hotdogs left in the world.”

Stephen laughed. “You gotta watch him, he’s a greedy little devil.”

“
There is plenty more on the grill tonight anyways,” Chris said. “I’ll make my way back over that way.”

Stephen picked up his fat beagle and carried him towards his new camper.

“
Check out the new pad, Buddy,” Stephen said as he opened the door. “I’ve always wanted one of these!”

Inside the dark office, narrow beams of sunlight lanced through the small gaps in the window blinds outlining five dirty, hard-looking men. Kettle looked at his followers standing in a semi-circle in front of his desk.

“
Tell me again of this trap you men had set up yesterday,” he ordered.

The small group fidgeted and looked at one another, afraid to risk Kettle’s wrath in case he disliked what had happened. Finally one cleared his throat and spoke up, “Father, we found a natural bottle neck in the roadway caused by disabled vehicles. We laced the road with stuff to flatten their tires on their return trip.”

Kettle waved his hands at him annoyingly. “Yes, yes I understood that part of it, continue.”

The man looked at his comrades nervously. “We rigged the garage doors of auto shop to open via a trip wire when they approached. We had it hooked to a counter weight made of sandbags. It was well designed and that part worked perfect. The garage was filled with infected people that we lured inside before sealing it off. We used one of our prisoners as bait, the man who tried to fight after we had our way with his girlfriend.

Kettle smiled. “That is good to hear. His woman was an ugly troll; he never should have tried to defend her. Some people just refuse to learn.”

The spokesman of the group chuckled. “Well, we figured the infected would catch them off guard wipe most of them out. Then we could go in, grab the woman, and finish off the rest afterwards.”

“
I see, very daring,” Kettle murmured. “And what went wrong?”

“
Well it appeared that the salty guy with the cigar must have smelled a trap because they wiped out all the infected souls,” the group’s spokesman replied. “They lost a couple people but none of their leaders. We didn’t have the firepower to engage them at that point.”

Kettle cursed silently and sat back into his chair. “Did any of them see you?” he asked. “We are not ready for a war against them yet. They’re way too organized and outgun us significantly at this time.”

“
No, Father, the unbelievers did not observe us from our vantage point in a nearby apartment building,” the man replied.

“
This is a good omen, my sons,” Kettle said. “What is the status of Mattie?”

“
The men have her around them at all times outside of the prison,” the man replied. “I think we need to kill a few of them to get the chance to take her.”

Kettle sighed in irritation. “Very well, but don’t try anything else quite yet. Let them finish up their little trips for the campers without incident. I can’t have them getting suspicious.”

“
Yes, Father.”

“
As for Mattie,” Kettle said, “need I remind you gentlemen that I want her unharmed?”

“
No, Father!” they all replied in unison.

Not the brightest bunch
, Kettle mused to himself as the men filed out. But they would have to do until Jonas could get inside. They must move forward on that, and soon.

* * * * * * * *

Councilman Lewis had no idea what day it was. He knew that he was hungry. He felt the constant gnawing at his gut. He was also constantly thirsty, forcing himself to conserve the small amount of soda he had left. Things had not gone very well for him since he’d had the safe zone destroyed by the Air Force, but it had been satisfying knowing that he killed those arrogant law enforcement officers in the process. After the jets had bombed the place, he traveled south for several blocks, using all of the ammunition from Sgt. Henderson’s firearm in the process. He was eventually forced to take refuge in this small one story building as several zombies closed in on him. The front door didn’t slow them down for shit, but he was able to climb up into the attic and pull the retractable stairs up behind him. He was safe for the time being, but he was also trapped.

After days of sitting up there, he had burned through all the food and most of his water from his travel bag. Either he would have to try and fight his way out or wait until they got bored and left.

“
Do zombies ever get bored?” he wondered out loud, looking down on the patiently waiting horde below.

The screaming and moaning began to drive him crazy as the days passed. Just when he was about to go mad, he saw something that made his blood curdle. He thought it was a hallucination at first but soon realized it was not. A convoy had passed by, and from his vantage point Lewis was able to make out that the big cop with the shaved head was driving a large RV eastbound. Lewis screamed in rage at the sight but soon found an opening. The noise of the convoy had drawn the zombies away from his hiding spot, allowing him a chance at escape.

Now Lewis stared at yet another returning convoy with hatred as he shoved nacho flavored Doritos into his mouth and guzzled his third bottle of Gatorade in an hour. His escape from the attic perch he’d thought was going to be his grave had given him a renewed sense of optimism. He thought he was surely going to die in that fucking house surrounded by these endless hordes of undead. The thought of dying by starvation or being bitten was terrifying enough, but the fact that the very police officers who he blamed for bringing his plans to ruin survived the bombing was unacceptable. This and the fact that they now seemed to be running a top notch operation made his hatred burn. They had returned for three days, each time to retrieve more campers.