Zombie Rush 2 (10 page)

“Craig, you dumbass. Rescuing survivors does not require binding them. And you got two white men in there. Why are the white men in there, Craig? Aren’t they your people?”

Craig hesitated and looked off into the distance, causing Lisa to stomp on his head twice.

“I asked you a question, Holmes; answer it,” she said as the sound of a Humvee came into view with others right behind it.

“Everyone should keep a couple of those for cooking and cleaning the house. Homos ain’t no good for real work,” Craig said, his face the mask of honesty.

Soldiers picked up on the scene and isolated the crowd.

“You know what? This is the one reason why I am glad for the apocalypse. You see, there are no more jails or judges. Expensive lawyers are things of the past. Out here, there’s only you and me. I’m the one who determines punishment for crimes out here. Murder, rape, slavery … all punishable in only one way, Craig. Do you know in what way these crimes will be punished, Craig?” Lisa pulled out the Rhino from inside her jacket.

“You’re bluffing,” Craig said as he looked up at her from the ground.

“In the last two days, I have put a gun to the head of some very honorable people—people that I liked—and I pulled the trigger, Craig. What makes you think that I won’t do it to you?”

Lisa smelled his courage seeping away with the powerful scent of fresh urine. People like him were nothing but trouble, and there was no way he wasn’t going to try this again down the road. He was a bottom feeder; it was in his very nature. If one more good person got hurt or was taken as slave by this man, it would be her fault if she let him go, knowing what he was. He didn’t deserve fanfare or an announcement or even a trial, as his crimes were in evidence right before her. How many more crimes were there before today?

Lisa once again pulled the trigger, knowing her decision was the best for what was at hand. Craig the slaver lay in a pool of his own blood and urine, staring uselessly at the sky. Craig was an afterthought now and the world was safer because he no longer existed.

She looked up into the faces of civilian militia and National Guardsmen, all showing shock and horror at what she had done. Lisa decided to put it back on them what she had gone through in order to make that decision.

“You have prisoners, but we don’t have any jails or courts. I’m leaving it up to you to decide what happens to them … but know this, if a hair on anyone’s head is harmed by one of these people in the future, the blame will be on you. Right now, their lives are in your hands. All lives are precious so you have to decide if you are saving lives by letting them live or do you save lives by doing what needs to be done. If you give life back to them, then their future actions are yours, and you will be the murderer. You will be the rapist, and it will be you who is responsible for the child or woman who is violated. Make your decisions; it’s all on you.”

A shot rang out and a Klan member fell to the ground dead, then another one, followed by another one after that. The group of responders stood silent and immobile as a whole, but there were a few who raised their weapons and decided to do what needed to be done without remorse while others hung their heads in shame.

“Fair enough; some can and some can’t, and there is nothing wrong with that. You and you.” Lisa pointed out each one who was willing to take the shot and pulled them into tight circle. There seemed to be a mixture of both military and civilian, and the word of Major Lindy rang through her ears once again.
The United States of America is a civilian army, welcome to the Army
.

“I want you all to take note of what happened here today. This was more than just a lesson; I hope you realize that. We have the opportunity to reshape the world. How we go about that is important. We need people like you who are willing to make decisions.”

Lisa then looked into one of the cell phone cameras that was recording the entire event.

“These people were not executed because they were Ku Klux Klan members. They were not eliminated because they believed in something different than I do. They were killed because they were thieves, slavers, and rapists. They threatened my life and freedom, and that makes them vermin—vermin that needs to be exterminated. We are remaking the world right now … if I have any say in it, we will be free and refusing to live in fear from the living.” She stepped in closer. “We have enough on our plate when dealing with the dead; to have to struggle against those who wish to exploit the weakness of others is not something I will tolerate. I will repeat myself only one more time. Everything in this city now belongs to the people of this city, no exceptions,” Lisa finished and walked away with Skit and the two dogs joining up with her on the way.

They were two blocks down the road when they saw Web as he mock saluted her from a rooftop. She tried to bring her gun up but he was ready and ducked behind the lip. He must have tracked their every step the day before and set this up. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought of him tracking her for so long without her knowledge.

A rock came down from the roof and bounced in front of them. Skit picked it up and untied the note attached to it.

“Channel seven,” Skit read and Lisa switched her radio over.

***

“I admire the way you out bluffed those hicks back there. Ignoring them and sticking to your own agenda; that was brilliant.”

“What do you want, Web? Unless you come down here and surrender yourself, I have nothing to say to you.”

“Surrender myself to what? Your bullet? You artfully displayed how you intend to deal with prisoners.”

“No such thing as a prisoner anymore, Web. Your fate is destined to end with my bullet, so better sooner than later, I’d say. We can keep a lot of people from getting hurt that way,” she said as Skit scanned the buildings left and right, ready to dive or duck as needed.

“Ha ha ha!” Web laughed loudly. “Now where’s the fun in that? You truly are a joy to behold, Rey. I will leave you alone for a bit, but one question before I go.”

“What is that?” Lisa asked.

“Claiming everything and everybody in the city as belonging to the city is more than a little communist, don’t you think?”

“Have you ever read the rules of martial law, Web?”

“Why no … no, I haven’t,” he said, pondering her question.

“I’m just looking after their best interests, Web,” she said and then pulled out the radio and switched channels. “Benson, are you there?”

“This is Krupp, Benson is … busy.”

“All right, Ed. I want a twelve-guard rotation stationed at the radio station at all times from here on out.”

“Already done. That was quite a show you put on out there today. It has already gone viral on satellite feeds everywhere. Who was the shooter on the roof?”

“None other than our local serial killer, Doctor Skinner. Was I wrong?” she asked, defiantly yet truly curious as to what he thought.

“Not in my opinion, but I’m in the minority most of the time.”

“We’ll talk later. Out.”

“Out.”

***

“How the fuck is he hearing everything we say?” Lisa ranted once they were in the radio station.

“I don’t know, but it’s creeping the hell out of me,” Skit replied. “He obviously heard our whole conversation last night.”

Lisa walked over and sat down in her customary chair. Tasha smiled at her and indicated for her to put on the lapel mic so they could start at the next break. Sedgwick came over and sniffed around her bag for some food that he knew was in her pack, causing Lisa to reach down and grab it. Her lapel mic brushed against his collar, and Lisa pulled back with a start.

“Feedback?” she whispered and brought Skit in for a closer conversation.

“What?”

“Feedback … like when a guitarist plays his instrument too close to a speaker, you get feedback. Pete Townsend made a fortune from it while playing with The Who.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I heard some when my mic brushed up against Sedge’s collar. Can they make a microphone that small?”

“Not today but a couple of days ago they could.”

“He’s bugged. Skit, your dog is bugged.”

“My dog, I don’t have a dog. How could he have bugged him?”

“Not a clue, but we have to find that microphone.”

“We’ll just lose the collar.”

“Maybe, but then again … maybe not. Let’s think about it for a bit.”

***

“Kodiak, here are the keys to the Cadillac parked behind the club. Take Tam with you,” Solomon said, referring to the more-than-capable bouncer who had worked the club with her and Shelly when Dean and his group showed up. “Lester, pick someone and go get your cube van at your shop.”

“I’ll take Sue; she’s small and I can lift her up to the window to get in since I lost all of my keys while running from fucking zombies,” Lester said, once again bitching about the keys he lost the day before.

“Okay, the rest of you wait here or as close to here as you can. Charlie and I will go get my Dodge and meet you here before we head out to the new compound.” The people left behind didn’t worry; they knew that by staying still and quiet, they could go unnoticed, especially with being off the beaten path as they were.

Dean and Charlie crouched in a hedgerow and looked out at the street in front of his old house where he left the Dodge after he found Charlie on the roof.

“Where did they all come from?” Dean said under his breath. It looked like a block party where several blocks had come together. The exception being that there was no beer or lights, and after two days of death, the women weren’t their best dressed.

“They all seem to be focused on the Jones’s house,” Charlie said.

Dean studied it for a time and had to admit that they were congregated in that area. Lester lived to the east of him and the Joneses lived to the east of Lester, so the plan to make it to the truck unseen was fantasy. “The Jones’s house … isn’t that where your buddy Jonah lived?”

“Yeah, we used to play in their basement all the time.”

“Basement? I didn’t know any of these had basements. I was told they were all slab on grade.”

“I don’t know anything about that. I do know that theirs is older than the rest of the others.”

“That would explain it. We have to figure out a distraction,” Dean said.

“Could we throw some rocks at a tree or something?”

“Hmmm, that would probably work. Hell, we could just throw a bunch down the street. I think that would be enough to get their attention.”

“What about the people in the basement?” Charlie asked.

“We don’t know that there are people in the basement, but if they come out, we’ll try to help them, okay?”

“Okay. Jonah and I aren’t really friends anymore, but I still don’t want to see him eaten by zombies.”

“Nope, neither do I, son, neither do I. Hey, do you still have that flashlight with the laser eye?”

“Yeah, why?”

“See if you can hit it on the glass block window down there, hidden halfway behind that bush. If we can get their attention, maybe they will see us and we can help them.”

“Won’t the zombies see the beam?” Charlie asked as he dug the flashlight out of one of his pockets.

“Yeah probably. But then again, if we are going to help people, we have to put our necks on the line from time to time.”

Dean scanned the thirty or so undead that wandered the area. There was a path to his truck open at the moment, but he doubted they could get into it before they were swarmed. He removed the buckler sheath that covered the blade on Shaaka and made sure his feet were under him. He checked the area behind and to both sides so he would know where everything was before he whispered to Charlie, “Okay, do it now. Three times fast and follow it with three times slow.”

Charlie turned the laser on and struggled to hit the window right away, gaining the attention of a few of the zombies, that didn’t know what to think of the non-edible moving dot. He landed on the glass block window and flashed it three times. He was halfway through the second long flash when they heard the first moan of a zombie who had discovered them.

“We gotta move, Charlie.”

“Dad, they’re in there.”

“Okay …” He paused, wondering and watching the Z come closer, gaining the attention of several others. “We’ll try to draw as many off as we can once the truck is going. Okay, now move!” he said louder than he wanted to because of the effort it took to shove Shaaka’s blade up under the chin of the closest zombie.

Dean Solomon became the fullback he had been in high school, except now he carried sixty more pounds and his quarterback was the most important person in his world. A claim that he wouldn’t have made a few days ago, but the kid showed grit and killed his share of zombies. He had earned his father’s respect and, dare he hope, maybe even gained friendship.

His buckler collapsed Z’s as if they were nothing but strands of tall grass. He held the bound end of the spear up by the blade, swinging it like it was a long club, unwilling to get the blade stuck in a body or skull. His homemade weapon had become the difference between life and death, for not only him, but his entire family tree.