“I just came from that way.” Nicky gasped for air. He was sweating like a pig.
“No one said you had to come with us,” Rachel said, but the sharpness in her tone was gone.
Nicky shook his head. “No, I mean I passed the Wooden Barrel on my way over here. You don’t want to go there. It’s overrun with zombies.”
Rachel took off through the trees. Cage swore and chased after her. Nicky followed, breathing too hard for the distance they covered. They caught up with Rachel at the same time. She stood motionless at the edge of the tree line.
The Wooden Barrel was across the baseball field. It was a popular bar in Flint that was always crowded no matter the time of day.
Tonight was no exception – if you counted zombies.
Chapter Eight
“This isn’t happening,” Rachel whispered.
Parking lights illuminated the space around the bar like a spotlight. Gene’s rusted green Jimmy was in its normal spot near the front door. He always parked there so he wouldn’t have to walk far when he was wasted. Rachel counted twenty-two zombies surrounding the building.
Nicky whistled. “Those zombies must be killing for a drink.” He laughed at his own joke.
Her chest tightened. They didn’t stand a chance of getting inside, but she had to get inside. She had to save Morgan and she needed Gene’s keys to do so.
Rachel felt Cage’s eyes on her. She was scared to look at him; frightened that he’d tell her it was too dangerous. Or that she was crazy and dumb and they needed a new plan. She lifted her eyes, steeling herself for the disappointment.
Cage’s face was grim, but his eyes were hard. “Most of the zombies are out front,” he said. “We can make a run for the back door. The three of us can probably take the few stragglers in back, but we’ll have to be quiet.”
Rachel actually smiled. Cage was going to help her get inside.
Nicky scratched his head. “Are you two lovebirds crazy? Why would you want to trap yourself inside? That’s dumb. Really, really royally stupid.”
Rachel pointed. “See that green Jimmy?”
“Yeah?” Nicky said.
“The keys to that car are inside on my foster father.”
Cage nodded. “We need that car. Unless you have a better plan of how we can get a vehicle.”
“Nope. Sold my ride for a three day bender.” Nicky sighed. “My life is nothing but a series of bad decisions, including this one.”
“You don’t have to come with us,” Cage said. “If you don’t want to.”
Nicky shook his head. “No, I do. There’s no way you kids are getting in without my help. Can I have that stick?”
Cage handed the mop stick to Nicky.
“Let’s go before I talk myself out of this stupid ass idea.” Nicky trotted soundlessly over the baseball field.
Nicky had a few screws loose, but Rachel was grateful he was helping. She felt bad at how she’d treated him, but she knew better than anyone about the pitfalls of trusting people too easily.
Cage flipped off the gun’s safety. “Ready?”
“Here goes nothing.”
They’d made it to the pavilion in front of the baseball field undetected. A wire fence enclosed the area. They crept beside it, hiding in the shadows. They would have to cross two parking lots before they reached the back of the Wooden Barrel. It wasn’t far, but it was a wide-open space with nothing to hide behind or use for shelter. They would be one hundred percent exposed and the zombies near the bar would see them.
The enormous General Motor’s plant loomed across the street. How many times had Rachel been in this parking lot, picking up an obliterated Gene? How many times had she gotten caught in factory traffic? To see the city – her city – overrun by such death and destruction, made her want to scream from the top of her lungs.
She squeezed the handle of the baseball bat. The pain from the dog bite sent shock waves down her arm. Blood had soaked through Cage’s shirt bandage. She needed to clean the wound. Heck, she might even need a rabies shot.
“Are you okay?” Cage whispered. “Does your arm hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Rachel said.
Nicky’s eyes widened. “She’s bit?”
“By a dog,” Rachel said dryly.
Nicky made a face. “Who gets bit by a dog when zombies are attacking? How does that happen?”
Rachel opened her mouth, but decided against it. “Are you ready?”
The boys nodded. They sprinted over the pavement and into the parking lot. Rachel’s legs burned as she tried to keep up with Cage’s athletic stride and Nicky’s long legs. Seven zombies were behind the bar. At least fifteen others were in front of the building.
They reached the back of the bar. Arms lunged from every angle. Cage pistol-whipped a nurse zombie on the side of the head and knocked her to the ground. Rachel swung the bat at a man that was missing most of his face. Tissue and skin dangled from his cheeks.
Nicky swung Cage’s mop stick with reckless disregard. It was the swing of a former athlete. He was right – they needed his help. And, if they survived, Rachel owed Nicky a giant apology. She sprinted to the back door and yanked it open. She almost cried out as the pain radiated through her injured arm. It was locked.
Rachel pounded on the door. She heard muffled noises from inside. “Help us! Let us in! Please!”
Cage looked over his shoulder. “It’s locked? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Let us in! We’re about to be eaten alive!” Nicky screamed.
“Please!” Rachel cried. “Please, help us!”
The crowd of zombies formed a perfect semi-circle, backing them against the building. They were trapped. Cage relented and shot a girl zombie in the head. She buckled at the knees and collapsed to the pavement. The others trampled over her body as if she didn’t exist.
“We have a problem here.” Cage shot another zombie, but the bullet sailed over its shoulder. The gunfire was attracting the zombies from the front of the bar.
Rachel and Nicky banged on the door. The lock groaned and a pretty brunette poked her head out. “Hurry, get inside!”
“Cage, come on!”
Cage shot another zombie before following Rachel and Nicky inside. The woman slammed the door shut as the zombies pounded on the door. The woman fumbled with the lock until Nicky put his hands over hers and pushed the bolt through with a resounding click.
“Be careful, there are still some inside,” the lady said in a slight Russian accent. She wore a light green dress that matched her eyes.
They were in the stock room. The air conditioner blasted cold air on top of Rachel’s head. They cautiously moved into the main room – toward the light and the sounds of fighting. Rachel drew in her breath. It was like a scene from a horror movie.
Eight zombies were in the front room. Rachel counted three other humans fighting for their lives. Two men fought four zombies in the corner by the dance floor. Another woman, with long dark curly hair, battled a zombie behind the bar. The pretty brunette who had let them inside rushed to help the woman.
Two zombies headed straight for Rachel. Cage shoved the first zombie – a police officer - into the other. Nicky picked up a barstool and smashed it into the zombies. Rachel scanned the bar and that’s when she saw him. There was no mistaken Gene Jones. Her stomach dropped. She walked around the bar and stepped over the broken barstools.
Gene’s face was shredded almost beyond recognition. A flap of skin hung from his jaw. His eyes were zombie blue and held no ounce of humanity. Blood and mush smeared across his face and shiny baldhead. He snapped his jaws.
Rachel sunk the tip of the aluminum bat into his stomach and pushed him against the wall. He rocked on his heels and stumbled backward. The sight of Gene angered her. It was as if everything that had happened over the last few hours was entirely his fault. Of course, it wasn’t. But Gene could hardly be considered an innocent bystander. As terrible as it was, he’d gotten exactly what he deserved. She thought about all of th
e horrible things he’d done to her. How he’d beat her, stolen from her, put his hands on her. How hard she fought to keep him away from Morgan.
Morgan.
Rachel swung the bat at Gene’s head. The aluminum cracked his skull on the first swing. The vibrations from the blow shook down her arms and ignited a flame of pain over the dog bite. Gene clawed at the air as he fell against the wall.
She swung again.
Rage filled her. Angry tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision. It didn’t matter; she could still make out Gene’s shape through the flood of tears. She swung again. He was on his back now – no longer moving - but all she could see was his face as it had been before. Leering at her. Snarling at her.
She swung again.
Again.
Hands grabbed her from behind. A zombie? She didn’t care. Let it bite her. Let her slip out of this miserable existence. Strong arms enveloped around her, forcing her to lower the bloody weapon.
Cage gently tugged the bat from her hands and rotated Rachel around so she faced him. He pulled her against his chest. “It’s okay. He’s dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
~ ~ ~
Adam Guerra saw two things happen at exactly the same time and both things worried and pissed him off simultaneously. One, Selena ran to the stock room to open the back door. He’d heard the cries for help and had wanted to go himself, but he was tied up with the fighting out front.
Nevertheless, Selena had slipped away from Vivienne’s side and ran to help the strangers outside. Her light green dress floated behind her as she disappeared down the hallway and out of sight. There was no telling how many dead guys were out back and Adam didn’t want her to get overwhelmed at the door.
Two, he saw his friend Tony get bit while they were fighting in the center of the bar. The zombie that Tony had knocked to the floor a few seconds before, swung around with surprising speed, and took a chunk out of Tony’s lower leg.
They were eating people.
Renewed rage burst through him. Adam had already seen it happen. His mother and best friend had been eaten alive by a horde of zombies in his own backyard, but it was still unbelievable, even as it happened in front of his own eyes.
Adam knew it was the end of the road for his friend. Tony was a firefighter, too. He had been at the station a long time before Adam’s first day on the job over five years ago. The knowledge that his friend was going to turn into one of the walking dead made Adam swing the pipe harder. The lead pipe caught the zombie under the chin and knocked it clear off its feet.
Selena stumbled back into the room unharmed. She sprinted behind the bar to help her sister, Vivienne, who was holding her own in a fight with a zombie behind the bar.
Three new people – two teenagers, a boy and girl, and another boy in his early twenties -immediately jumped in to help. If they were down to fight, then they were all right in Adam’s book.
Adam fired a shot at a zombie that had gotten too close. He had to keep his mind from wandering. He had to stay sharp. One mistake and it would be all over for him and he had no intention of checking out early.
With the help of the newcomers, they made quick work of the remaining zombies. He tucked his pistol into his belt. Tony was on the verge of collapsing. The young man with shaggy hair helped Adam lift Tony onto the green velvet pool table.
“Thanks,” Adam said.
“No problemo,” the young man said.
“Selena, can you get a towel?” Adam asked.
Selena and Vivienne returned with towels and a first aid kit. Adam pressed the towel on Tony’s leg, careful not to touch his blood. Adam glanced over his shoulder to see what Selena was staring at.
On the other side of the bar, the blonde teenager girl was making mincemeat out of a zombie who was clearly already dead (well, dead again). The girl couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds, but she was swinging the hell out of the bat. The zombie’s head looked like a split watermelon.
The teenage boy disarmed her. She fell into his arms, sobbing hysterically. Adam couldn’t read the situation. The girl seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but who could blame her? “What’s with her?” Adam asked the older boy with the shaggy hair.
“Oh. I think that’s her foster father.”
Selena covered her mouth.
“I guess she didn’t like him too much. By the way, my name’s Nicky Ayers.” The young man turned to Selena. “Thanks for saving our assess.”
Selena lowered her hand from her mouth. “You’re welcome. I’m Selena Kudlova and this is my sister, Vivienne. That’s Adam Guerra and Tony…Tony’s the one hurt.” Selena folded another towel and handed it to Adam. She kept glancing at the teen girl.
“Thanks,” Adam said.
“That man.” Selena pointed to the zombie with the smashed in head. “Was a very bad man. He was a regular here. If that was the girl’s foster father, then he probably deserved every blow. Probably more.”
“Who are they?” Adam nodded to the teenagers.
“Dunno,” Nicky said. “Just met them.”
The boy and girl walked over. The blonde girl was pretty – really pretty – even with a blotchy face and tear streaks. She had beautiful dark blue eyes, a tiny nose and pouty full lips. If Adam were ten years younger, she’d be his type, but she couldn’t have been older than seventeen. Either way, the teenage boy had a firm claim on her. She hid behind him and Adam wasn’t sure if the girl didn’t trust them or she was embarrassed about her outburst.
“Thanks for helping us,” the boy said to Selena. He nodded at Adam. “My name is Cage Vance and this is Rachel Cole. We appreciate you letting us inside. You saved our lives.”
Adam recognized the name. “You’re the quarterback at Flint Prep.” Adam had played football in high school and kept tabs on all of the city teams. He’d heard nothing but praise about the kid.
“I am,” Cage said.
“He’s your father?” Selena asked Rachel as she pointed to the dead zombie.
Rachel looked warily at Selena. “Foster father. Why? Do you know him?”
“I work here.”
Something passed between Selena and Rachel. Adam couldn’t tell what it was – understanding?
Rachel tugged Cage’s arm. “The keys. I forgot about the keys.” She ran back to the obliterated zombie and searched the man’s pockets.
Tony groaned and arched his back. His skin glistened with sweat, despite the air conditioning pumping frigid air from the overhead vents. Blood had soaked through the dishtowels and created a dark stain on the velvet.
Rachel searched the corpse. Her movements were sporadic now. Almost frantic.
Cage ran to her. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re not here. How can they not be here? I don’t understand.”
“They have to be there.” Cage dropped to his knees. “He drove the truck here.”
Adam walked over to the teenagers. “What’s wrong?”
“We need his truck keys,” Cage said. “That’s why we came here. I have to get home and she has to get to the U of M to rescue her sister.”
Selena’s gasped. “Adam?” Selena and Vivienne backed away from the pool table. Tony’s body went deathly still. “He’s going to turn.” Vivienne shook her head back and forth as if it would make the fact not true.
“Do him now, dude.” Nicky edged away from the pool table. “That way you won’t have to fight him off. You know he’s going to turn. And that is one big son of a -”
“The keys are gone,” Rachel said behind him.
Adam ignored the teens for now. This was about to be a huge problem.
“Dude, smash his brains.” Nicky raised his weapon.
“He’s my friend,” Adam said weakly.
It was a lame excuse. Adam had seen the rapid transformation from human to death to zombie first hand. Tony’s bite was on his thigh near the femoral artery and, from Adam’s experience, the closer the wound was to the heart or a main artery, t
he quicker the change. Whatever it was – some virus or something – it traveled rapidly through the bloodstream.
Tony’s body twitched.
“Dude!” Nicky screamed.
Adam’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t want to do it, but Nicky was right. It would be harder to kill Tony once he reanimated.
Tony’s limbs quivered on the table in vicious tremors. Adam sighed. He raised the lead pipe in his hand and plunged it into his best friend’s head.
Chapter Nine
Cage was so upset that they couldn’t find the truck keys that he barely noticed Adam ramming the pipe into his friend’s head. Rachel was hysterical. A void of desperation filled her eyes.
“They’re not here.” She slid back on her butt. “I don’t understand. Where are they? What are we going to do?”
Cage grabbed her limp hand. “It’s okay. We just have to get to my house. You can take my dad’s car. We have guns at my house – hunting rifles – all kind of weapons. We’ll be all right. Rachel?”
She stared blankly at the body.
“I’ll get you to Ann Arbor,” Cage said. “I promise.”
Rachel swallowed. “Don’t you live on the other side of town? We barely made it here and that was only three blocks. How are we going to get to your house?”
“Where do you live, kid?” Adam stood behind them.
“On Mercer Road in the Summer Hills Subdivision.”
“That’s not far from where I’m headed. My fire station is on Dye Road. I want to check in, see what the situation is, and pick up supplies. You are more than welcome to come with us. We can see about getting you a ride home when we get to the station.”
Rachel looked up at Adam. “You have a car here?”
Adam nodded. “Truck. Out front. We’re going to clean up and head out in half an hour, before more of the dead show up.”
“You’ll give us a ride to the fire station?” Cage asked. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. Just help us fight.” Adam smiled. His eyes moved to Rachel and he frowned. “She’s been bitten.”
“No.” Cage rose to his feet. “We ran into a pit bull.”