The King of Clayfield - 01 (48 page)

The female reached for me and moaned.

They both had a sidearm. There were rucksacks in the floor in front of them, too, hooked somehow to keep them from falling. I looked up to the rear of the vehicle toward the large cargo door. There
 
was a
 
big, tarp-covered crate back there held in place with wide orange netting. On the floor, between the two soldiers and the cargo, was an M4 carbine. There was a
 
square door in the floor, too, but it was closed.

I climbed inside.

First, I pulled myself forward to the cockpit. The seats were empty, but there was a map tucked into a slot next to the seat on the left. I took it. I eased myself back down, and then turned my attention to the things strapped in the seats. I wanted those rucksacks and guns. I could stay far enough away from them to get the M4, but I didn't know how to get the other things without shooting them. They were wearing helmets, which would make it more difficult. Plus, shooting them would be loud.

I was also very curious about that cargo container.

I'd have to do this as quickly and as quietly as possible.

A short honk on the bus' horn got my attention. There was a difference in the sound of the engine, and I heard it pull away. We must have attracted some. I didn't let it deter me from going after the stuff.

I secured my shotgun in one of the seats then pulled myself along the wall opposite the soldiers. The
 
female hissed and growled and strained against her shoulder harness. I made it to the M4, braced myself to keep from falling, and picked it up. The
 
man on the roof
 
at the high school probably had a similar weapon, possibly taken from this very craft.

I slung the rifle on my back and continued to pull myself up to the crushed rear of the helicopter. I hooked my fingers in the netting with one hand and reached in with the other
 
trying to open the container. I couldn't figure out how to get it open. The M4 and the rucksacks (if I could get them)
 
would have to do.

As I made my way back down, I looked out the window toward the school. The bus was driving slowly in the parking lot while four of the zombies followed behind.

The two in their seats were still watching me, probably waiting for me to slip. I made my way back down until I was directly across from them. I sat in one of the seats to steady myself. I could pass on the handguns, but I really wanted those bags. There would probably be
 
extra ammunition inside for the M4.

Using the rifle, I poked at the bag in front of the male. He wasn't as animated as the female, and I thought I had a better chance of getting his.
 
The bag shifted but not much. It was hooked to the front of his seat by a short strap.

The bus horn honked again. It was still near the school.

I climbed back up then crossed over to the other side. I sat down two seats up from the male. He turned his head toward me, but that was all. I decided to go for it. I held onto the seat, squatted in the floor, and reached for his bag. He made a gurgling sound but didn't try to reach for me. The
 
female stretched for me. I could just touch the strap with the ends of my fingers. I would have to get closer.

The light changed. I looked down toward the door. A
 
zombie was there in the doorway. Out the window, I could see more coming.

I edged closer and leaned in again. I grabbed the strap and fidgeted with the hook, all the while keeping my eyes on the male. He kept his eyes on me, too. He never made any attempt to even touch me.

The hook came loose, and the bag started to fall. I caught it, but it was heavy, and threw off my balance.
 
It slid down to the lowest point pulling me with it. On impulse, I reached out to stop my fall and grabbed the female's ankle. An expression that
 
could almost pass
 
for delight came across her face. She still couldn't reach me; the shoulder harness kept her up in her seat.

I was stretched out there in the floor, both arms extended, a forty-pound (at least) rucksack in one hand, zombie foot in the other. The creatures outside the door were clawing for me, too, but there was no danger of them reaching me.
 

Despite my precarious position, I was feeling pretty confident. I
 
was right there anyway. Why not get her bag, too?

I dropped the bag I was holding
 
so that it would slide down to the back wall away from the door. Then I turned myself on my belly and unhooked her bag. I let it slide down with the other.

She was beside her self with frustration. She actually let out a howl and stomped her feet.
 
I scooted down with the bags. There were
 
four of them right outside the door. I could see more in the distance.
 
It was time to give that M4 a go.
 
I held it sideways, looking it over, trying to see if I could figure out how to use it.
 
Like the AR-15, it was very lightweight.

In movies, I'd always seen them pull back on that thingy on the side, but I didn't know if that was how it should be done, or
 
just because it looked good for the sake of the movie. Actors always pumped shotguns unnecessarily in movies to punctuate what they were saying. If a person were to pump a shotgun like that in real life without having fired it, they'd unload the weapon. I didn't want to unload this weapon; I wanted to use it. The safety was already off.

Maybe it was ready to go...

I pointed it outside toward the nearest creature and squeezed the trigger. It fired off three rounds before I knew what was happening. There wasn't that much recoil either. The target's head jerked backward and it fell.

"Hot damn."

I put it to my shoulder, and careful to only fire one round at a time, I took out the remaining creatures. The horn honked again, closer. Since I was making noise anyway, I turned the weapon on the two strapped inside--one each, right through their goggles. It had become so easy to do that. I almost didn't feel anything anymore.
 
Once they'd slumped forward, I pulled myself up to them.

I removed their pistols and dropped them down to the bags. I also found an extra magazine on each of them for the M4. If I'd had the time, and if I could have gotten past the smell, I would have removed their body armor. But that was a big "no" on both counts.

I stuffed the pistols, map,
 
and magazines into the rucksacks, put both bags on my back, and hopped out of the helicopter with the shotgun in one hand, and the M4 in the other. It felt like I was carrying at least 100 pounds extra weight, and I went right to my knees when I hit the ground.
 
More of the monsters were coming in. Sara pulled the bus up as close to the playground as she could. I stood and
 
went as fast as I could
 
to get aboard.

We found a
 
big empty house between Farmtown and Clayfield to hide in for the night. When I say it was empty, I mean just that. It was
completely
empty with a realty sign in the front yard. It did have
 
gas logs and a big propane tank outside, so we'd be able to stay warm. Unfortunately, there would be no bathing. We all had varying amounts of blood splatter on us, and there
 
was
 
the lingering smell of decay.

There were MREs in the soldiers' bags, but Brian was the only one with any sort of appetite. We discussed whether we should return to the Lassiter Stables. We also discussed all the possible reasons why they would have come in such numbers so unexpectedly.

Jen's menstruation wasn't ruled out, particularly when Sara told us that the whole time she'd been surrounded in the church she'd been on her period, too. Jen also added that the blue house on Bragusberg Road, as well as the building behind the courthouse were all surrounded while women were inside. It could have been a coincidence, but there might have been something to it.

"The stories about animals pertained to pheromones," Brian said. "From what I've read, the pheromones of one kind of animal do not affect another kind. That's why I said what I said. Of course we and they are
 
of the same species, but in this situation, if it was indeed the reason, it might have been the blood itself. Jen's leg injury might have
 
contributed to it, too.”

"Like sharks," Jen said.

"Yeah, maybe," Brian said.

"It all happened so quickly," I said. "I never asked.... Brian, did you and Sara update
 
Jen on the other problem?"

"Yeah," Jen said. "They told me about the other survivors.
 
They sound
 
like a bunch of dicks."

"Probably the
 
same
 
group from
 
Lowes, so yeah," I said.

We took inventory of
 
our haul from the Chinook. The contents of the bags were almost identical except for the toiletry kits and the sizes of the clothing.

Each
 
bag contained:
 
 
one T-shirt, two MREs, two pairs of socks, a gun cleaning kit, night vision goggles, a poncho-style raincoat, a plastic bag, 1 magazine for the M4, 1 magazine for the 9mm handgun, a small first aid pouch, and a small toiletry kit. In addition to these items were the two 9mm handguns, map, and two additional magazines for the M4.

"You did good," Jen said.
 
I felt pretty good about myself, and was about to say something, but then she added, "Gun-wise. They'll come in handy. Of course, we'll need water and food pretty soon. I don't know if it was worth all the trouble no more than you got."

"What about the night vision?" I said. "That's going to be a huge help."

She shrugged, seemingly unimpressed.

"You and Sara better put them on," she said. "It's dark out, and we need booze."

"We can wait and
 
drink tomorrow," I said. "We have a few hours before the fever kicks in."

"A few hours
at most,
" Jen corrected.

"Do you think we'll have to live the rest of our lives like this?" Sara asked. She was already wearing the night vision goggles, looking out the front window.

"By 'rest of our lives' do you mean until we get old or until we die?" Brian said.

She tilted the lenses of the goggles up and turned around and sighed.

"I'm so tired," she said.

"Me, too," he said. "Weary, actually. I'll go out to find alcohol. If all you need is a getaway driver, I think I can do that. You stay here with Jen and rest."

"No," she said. "I'm just being a baby. You're hurt. I can do it."

We left Brian and Jen with the shotgun and one pistol
 
along with
 
the two extra clips. I took the M4 and Sara got the other pistol. Sara and I took the night vision.
 
There was no way to know how long we'd be gone. We could find something at the house next door, or we might have to
 
drive around and search houses
 
until morning.

I let Sara drive.

"We'll go house to house," I said. "You can stay with the bus. I'll go in and do the searches. Drive with the lights off and use the goggles."

The world was green. I thought maybe it would be better like this. Maybe the things would show up better. We pulled into the driveway of the first house, and I got out with an empty rucksack. The door was locked, but there was a window right next to it. I broke the glass and reached in and turned the deadbolt. I didn't find any alcohol, but I got some canned goods,
 
crackers and a 2 liter of Sprite.

At the next house, the door was standing wide open, and I surprised a family of raccoons who were in the kitchen enjoying the box of Cheerios they'd knocked off the top of the refrigerator. They scrambled away, but soon came back and didn't seem to mind me being there. No alcohol there either.

We were out for more than two hours. I had to use the rifle three times. Finally, I broke into a house that had a box of
 
Zinfandel in the refrigerator.
 
The box was
 
open, but still mostly full. I took it out to the bus. Sara had the radio on listening to static.

"Got some," I said. "We can head back now."

She yawned and nodded then put the bus in reverse.