Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 2): Burning Rubber Page 11

  Hunter’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, but—”

  “How did I know?” Roper looked to Churchill to finish.

  “Dude. You’re gay, and that’s why you’ve been able to rummage through shops and walk among them. You’ve been sitting there at night wondering why they don’t come after you. Well, we know why because we’re just like you.”

  Roper glanced over at Fletcher before continuing. “I’m sorry if we’ve outed you to your dad, but we don’t have time to pry open antiquated closet doors. We need to move forward as quickly as possible.”

  Looking to his dad, Hunter bowed his head. “It never dawned on me that that’s why they left me alone. All this time, I wondered if there was something I wore, something I ate, something I did that made them ignore me.”

  “Yeah. It took us a minute or ten to figure it out.” Roper told her story and then asked him about his own.

  “Well, after two months, we were out of food, and so I took my bow and went in search of some. At first, I skirted around them, staying downwind, staying out of sight, you know—not really knowing what triggers them. I did this for about a week, but one afternoon, I got sloppy, and this one thing came around the corner of a shop I was in. I fumbled with my arrow, dropped it, picked it up, and by the time I notched it, the thing had cruised by me as if I didn’t exist.”

  Roper, Churchill, and Zoe nodded. “Freaky, huh?”

  “Oh man, that’s an understatement. I was sure I was screwed, but I thought maybe it was just that one ghoul. You know, maybe it wasn’t hungry or something. Later on, I realized they never really saw me…you know…as food.”

  “Now you know why. We’re pretty certain it’s our genetic makeup. Even once bitten, the virus doesn’t get us. We…I had a friend who was bitten.”

  “And she lived?”

  “He did. Then he sacrificed his life for the rest of us.” Roper glared over at Michael. “For those of us who are really gay.”

  He opened his mouth, but Roper held her hand in his face. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

  Michael closed his mouth and stared down at his hands.

  “Go on, Hunter.”

  “So, Dad and I assumed there was something about me that the creatures ignored. We ran though all sorts of lists, from vaccines I’ve had to medications. Gotta say, the gay piece escaped me.”

  “It might have gotten by us as well, except they ignored my lover and me when we were surrounded by a horde in the middle of a street. We didn’t know it at the time, but once we started down a list of commonalities, there it was: undeniable proof that we’re born this way, and the genetic code for the man eaters to go after everyone but us became evident.”

  “My son has kept us alive not only because he is gay, but because he is an excellent marksman,” Fletcher said. “Perhaps you’ve heard about him. Hunter MacCormick?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “My son was a silver medalist at the last Olympics.”

  “That is so fucking awesome, dude,” Zoe said. “Congrats.”

  Hunter blushed as he pulled the medal out from under his shirt. “I may leave everything I own at home, but I am never leaving this.”

  Fletcher leaned over toward Roper. “So tell me about this army of yours.”

  Roper went into detail about Angola and what was quickly becoming known as the rebellion. She wasn’t halfway through her rehearsed speech when Fletcher said, “Count us in.”

  Hunter quickly turned to his dad. “We are? I thought you said we were never leaving.”

  Fletcher ran his thick hand through his hair. “When my son and I first ventured out, there were groups of crazy men who broke into businesses and homes. They shot anything that moved, and took anything they wanted, so we had to be very careful.” He looked at Hunter. “We can’t keep doing this on our own, son. I know what I’ve said about not trusting anyone, but—”

  “Dad, you don’t have to convince me. I love you and all, but I’d really like to hang out with other people, too. We’ve said all that can be said by two guys.”

  Fletcher grinned. “Then we’re in.”

  Roper smiled and shook his hand. “Welcome aboard. Glad to have you both.” Fletcher rose and studied the interior of the Fuchs. “Nice ride. I’m impressed. ”

  “Thank you, but my other half helped nab it. She’s our real boss. I’m just the boss of this little expedition.”

  “I’m slightly surprised you’ve managed to keep it from the marauders.”

  “Oh, some have tried to take it away from us, but they didn’t live to tell the story.”

  “Cool,” Hunter said. “Then let’s finish loading up our weapons and get out of here. There are a few other places we can go for weapons and ammo, too. I assume you guys have rifles and guns as well.”

  “We do, but ammo is short.” When Roper lowered the gate, she turned to Michael and put a finger in his face. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Churchill leaned over and whispered in Michael’s ear, “Or we will leave you here.”

  It took fifteen more minutes and fourteen more dead zombies before they pulled away from the Bow-Diddly with thousands of arrows and dozens of bows and crossbows.

  “Man, this is a jackpot,” Churchill said, gazing at the mountain of boxes of arrows and bolts.

  “Reclaimable ammo is the best,” Fletcher said. “You never run out like you do with bullets. We can teach your people how to shoot either the bow or crossbow. The crossbow is better for distance, so we can quickly shake out who should use which bow. You shoot, kill, collect, and clean. That’s been our motto.”

  Roper nodded. “Excellent. I like it.”

  Poking his head into the front, Hunter gave Roper directions to a neighborhood outside of the city proper.

  “Where we going?”

  Hunter grinned. “A weird friend of mine belonged to a survivalist group that stockpiled weapons. If he’s still alive, we can ask him to join. If not, we can take his shit.”

  Roper laughed. She liked Hunter. She could tell by the way he stared at Hunter that Churchill did as well. “If not, we won’t take anything. We are never going to be those kinds of people.”

  “Never say never, Roper.”

  As Roper wound through the narrow streets of the Fifth Ward, she stuffed the anger she felt toward Michael. Dallas would skin him alive for putting them all in harm’s way with his ridiculous lie. She might overreact loudly and push those newly acquired survivors right back to the tree house, and Roper knew they couldn’t afford that.

  She knew what she had to do.

  She just hoped Sully and his people would understand.

  After two and a half hours of training and sharing of intel, Dallas let the group take a break. While everyone snacked on a large bag of smoked alligator meat, she walked from group to group asking each person about their skill set and any expertise they might have. She was delighted to find among them a metalworker, a plumber, and a dentist. By the time she compiled her list, she was certain she’d mined gold with this group.

  “We have a lot of depth here,” she said to Sully, who was chewing the alligator meat slowly. “I can see your people filling a lot of our holes.”

  “They’re not mine, Dallas. Benjamin, who seems to delight in watching you maneuver through the group, leads us. I’ll never understand that putz.”

  Dallas looked up from her list. “Too much pressure?”

  “No idea. I don’t know how anyone does it. People scared, people whining, lazy people, bored people, you name it. No thanks. You can have them.”

  Dallas thought of Roper, Butcher, Einstein, and Luke. As their faces wafted across her mind’s eye, she grinned. She had had a great core group right out of the gate, saving her from having to deal with people who couldn’t get out of their own way…until later. “I have a lot of good help. Speaking of which, it’s about time to start worrying.” She looked out at the setting sun. Roper told her they would be back before sundown. It was getting close.

  “Y
ou don’t strike me as the worrying kind.”

  “I’m not. I just happen to be in love with the driver, and shit always seems to go down whenever we’re apart.”

  “Really? You and Roper? I had no idea.”

  She nodded, a familiar warmth cascading through her veins. “Yep. We’ve been together since day one in San Francisco, but didn’t get together until several weeks into the outbreak. Let’s just say romance didn’t really figure into survival mode.”

  “Yet you still managed to fall in love.”

  She couldn’t hold back her smile. “How couldn’t I? She’s amazing. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful to have her here with me. Truth be told, I’d be lost without her. And without Einstein.”

  “Einstein?”

  Dallas jammed her hands in her pants and paced. “We call him that because that kid knows everything there is to know about zombies. He’s watched every movie, read every book, played every game. I’d have been dead in the first thirty minutes of the outbreak without him.”

  “He with the others then?”

  Dallas nodded. “Yeah, and it killed me to have to leave him. All we have we owe to that kid’s brain. Hence…Einstein.” Dallas kept glancing up the road and listening for the Beast.

  “No wonder you’re worried. You have family.”

  Still staring up the road, she tried not to let the ball of panic ride to her throat. “That, my friend, is an understatement.”

  The survivalist’s house yielded numerous AK-47s, hollow-point bullets, three dozen handguns, knives, and four trash cans full of dehydrated food for campers. There was a large assortment of rifles, shotguns, and automatic weapons with full boxes of ammo for each. They cleaned the house out in less than half an hour.

  “Great haul,” Roper said, half-turning to look at the booty. “You guys have already earned your way.”

  Fletcher nodded. “Can’t start a war without proper weapons. If your army can take those things out with machetes and the rest of us can use bolts and arrows, then we can save the bullets for hunting or emergency situations.”

  Hunter stared down at the three dead and half-eaten bodies littering the camp. “What do you supposed happened here?”

  Squatting down to examine the corpses, Roper shook her head. “They must have been attacked by someone they knew because it doesn’t even look like they drew down. My guess is one of them turned in the night and killed the other two.” Rising, she realized the sun was almost down. “Come on. We gotta get back. Dallas will be sick with worry.”

  Roper started the Fuchs and took the same road back to town. When she missed the turn to the alligator farm, Churchill said, “You missed it, Rope. It was back there.”

  Roper nodded. “I know.”

  She drove another few miles before stopping in the middle of the road and lowering the ramp.

  “What are we stopping for?”

  Shutting off the Beast, she rose, grabbed the front of Michael’ shirt and yanked him to her face. “You are a piece of shit,” she growled. “You put the rest of us in danger by posing as a gay man? Are you fucking crazy?”

  “I’m sorry! I…I…I just thought that this jeep was the safest place to be. To be with those who aren’t attacked is what I--”

  “But we were attacked, weren’t we? They came for you and that put us at risk. What should have been an easy in-and-out job turned into something far more difficult. Because. Of. You.” She shoved him toward the ramp. “So you punched your own ticket. Get the fuck out.”

  He quickly scrambled back up the ramp. “What? No. Come on, Roper, please. I…I made a mistake. Please.”

  She shook her head. “A self-centered mistake like that isn’t one this group can afford. Get out.”

  Seeing no bend in her will, Michael turned to Churchill. “Come on, man, please…you know it was an honest mistake. Give me a second chance. Please. I’m begging you. She’ll listen to you.”

  Churchill quickly withdrew a Colt Python from its holster. “Fuck you, man. Get out and take the chance she’s giving you before I put a slug in your face.”

  He made one final grasp to Fletcher. “Please. I’m begging. I’ll be the best soldier of all, just please don’t let her—”

  “See, just there you show an inability to even understand the hierarchy. I have the feeling no one ever lets Roper do anything. I support her decision. Those things haven’t been around in weeks, but you brought them to our doorstep. You are a threat.”

  Churchill continued pointing his huge revolver at Michael. “Go on. Get the hell out of here before I shoot you myself.”

  The back of the Beast became very still. No one came to Michael’s side as he slowly backed down the ramp. “At least give me a weapon! You can’t be so heartless that you’d kick me out without a weapon.”

  Roper reached into a box of Turkish automatic handguns and tossed one out the opening. “Off you go.”

  Scrambling for the gun, Michael gripped it in both hands and aimed it at Roper as the ramp ascended.

  Churchill raised his gun, but Roper put her arm out and gently pushed the weapon down. Michael’s gun trembled in his inexperienced hand. “Die, you fucking lesbo bitch!”

  Click. Click.

  Click. Click.

  Empty.

  Just before the ramp closed completely, Roper stepped up to it and said, “Not heartless, asshole, but not stupid either. Good luck getting back alive.” She tossed a handful of bullets at his feet just as the ramp closed. With the ramp shut, Roper turned to Zoe. “How will Sully take the news?”

  She shrugged. “Depends on what story you tell. The asshole had it coming, that’s for sure.”

  Roper got in the driver’s seat and headed back to the gator farm.

  “What story are you going to tell?” Churchill asked.

  Staring straight ahead, Roper said, “To Dallas? The truth. Always the truth.”

  As they drove through the outer limits of the city and back to the ranch, Churchill called out for Roper to stop. “Buses.”

  “What?”

  “The Department of Education is over there. See all those buses? One bus will transport all of Sully’s people.”

  Roper regarded Fletcher, who seemed to read her mind.

  “If Hunter and I are positioned and secured on the top of one vehicle, protecting it whenever we are at a stop or going slowly will be much easier. I’m the only…what did you guys call it? Zombie bait…that has to be at risk.”

  Hunter agreed. “If we get one of those buses with a rack, Dad and I can secure ourselves to it. Load up with bolts and back up weapons of handguns in the event we get overwhelmed.”

  Roper considered this. “You sure you want to risk your life on the top of the bus? And what about Hunter’s?”

  “Not my decision to make to make for my boy. Hunter may look like a young man, but he’s almost thirty. He makes up his own mind about his life and I do the same.”

  “Hunter, you sure?”

  Hunter nodded. “We got this, Roper. Just make sure you use a driver who knows what they’re doing. We don’t want to be jostled off the top at the first turn or slammed to the ground ‘cause they don’t know how to shift.”

  “I’ll drive it,” Zoe offered. “At least to the farm. Maybe someone there drove a truck for a living and can drive it better than I can, but I…umm…well…I stole one once so I’m probably as good as we’re gonna get out here.”

  Roper rubbed her chin. “If there is someone else who can, Dallas will know. Thank you, Zoe. We’ll keep Hunter and Fletcher with us until we get to the farm, that way you won’t attract any unnecessary attention.”

  Eight minutes later, Roper would choke on those words.

  Just before the turn to the alligator farm, three Jeeps surrounded the bus. There was no hooting or hollering, but an eerie, silent tension that filled the air. These were not your typical marauders or outlaws.

  “Goddamn it.” Roper muttered. “We don’t need this shit right now.”
<
br />   Churchill scuttled up the ladder, and Fletcher and Hunter notched their bows and waited for the ramp to drop.

  “Don’t give them a chance to go on the offensive!” Roper yelled up to Churchill.

  He replied with another Winston quote. “This is no time for ease and comfort. It is time to dare and endure.”

  “Go for it, Roper!” Hunter yelled.

  Simultaneously hitting the ramp button and grabbing the microphone, Roper practically growled into it. “Your feet leave your Jeeps and you’ll die where you stand. This is the only warning you’re going to get!”

  The outlaws in the Jeeps fired on the Fuchs from open windows with no ill effect, then they opened the doors to the Jeeps and stepped out, rifles aimed at the turret.

  When the ramp landed, Fletcher and Hunter shot four men dead before Churchill could get off a single round.

  The rest of the hoodlums leapt back in their vehicles. One Jeep sped off; the second and third turned their attention to the bus, only to find it driverless.

  “Gwan’, Delmer, get the bus!” one of them yelled.

  The man named Delmer hopped out of the Jeep and forced the accordion door open as an arrow ripped through his earlobe and deflected off the bus.

  He grabbed his bloody ear and hopped into the bus, and when he turned to the left to look down the aisle, a bullet went through his right cheek and out the back of his head.

  Lying on her back, both hands wrapped around the grip of her .44 Magnum, Zoe grinned and said, “That made my day, asshole.”

  When Delmer’s blood and brains splattered on the inside of the windshield, the second Jeep pulled out, leaving the third free to hide behind the bus.

  “Churchill?” Roper called.

  “No line of sight,” he replied.

  “Same back here,” Fletcher offered. “Bus is in the way.”

  “Shit.” Seeing no room to maneuver the Fuchs safely to the other side of the bus, Roper jumped out and ran to the opposite side, hiding behind the wheel well. She could hear the men in the Jeep trying to decide what to do. She pulled her .357 out and made sure it was loaded.

  Quickly entering the bus, Roper stayed low, crawling across the nearly headless man still bleeding out. When she saw Zoe, she motioned for her to come to her, which she managed to do on her hands and knees.