| |
KATE
Reed, Caleb, Alvarez, and I sprint north on Highway 1, racing back toward the semi. The only sounds I can hear are the rasping of my own breath and the pounding of the ocean.
“I have to pee,” Caleb gasps.
“Let it out,” I say. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
“Did you just tell him to pee his pants?” Reed asks.
“I did.” Peeing en route is occasionally done among ultrarunners, especially the men.
Beside me, Caleb lets out of soft moan of relief without ever slowing. “God damn. That feels good.”
I glance over and see a trail of urine cut through grime on his legs and ankles.
“Dude,” Reed wheezes beside me, also relieving himself. “I just pissed myself. On purpose.
“This is a good reminder of why I don’t want to be an ultrarunner,” Alvarez wheezes. “You guys are fucking disgusting.”
Even though my chest is cramped from harsh breathing, I bark a laugh. The guys join me, their amusement brief and sharp.
“Hopefully we’ll live to tell the story to the guys back at Creekside,” Reed says.
That sobers the moment. Worry for Ben, Eric, and Ash crash back in. I lean into the sprint, pushing as hard as I can. The boys keep pace with me.
Thirty minutes later, Wild Thing looms into view. The pack of zombies we led here are massed around the semi.
“That’s going to be an issue,” Alvarez says. “How are we supposed to get to the semi?”
“Just wait,” Reed says. “Mama Bear has a surprise.”
“Does this have to do with the alpha language you alluded to?” Alvarez asks.
“Yeah. Remember how I told you we were studying alpha zoms? Watch this.” I pull out the recorder, unwrapping it from the plastic baggie. “I’ll take care of the zombies. As soon as there’s an opening, get to the semi and open the trailer. Get the ramp in place.”
Alvarez shakes his head at me in disbelief. “Aye, aye, Mama Bear. This had better work or we’re all zombie meat.”
I hit play. The clicks and keens of the alpha roll out of the speaker.
The reaction of the zombies in instantaneous. They snap around in eerie unison, pivoting in my direction. They totter toward me, moaning and scratching at the air as they unwind from around the semi like a spool.
“Hoy fucking shit,” Alvarez mutters. He dashes away, following Caleb and Reed as they circle wide around the semi. They head for the newly formed opening.
I grit my teeth, never taking my eyes from the horde advancing on me. I draw them away from Wild Thing.
The recording comes to an end. My fingers dance over the buttons, hitting rewind, stop, and play in rapid succession. The clicks and keens play a second time, drawing the zombies farther away from the semi.
A single zombie lurches sideways, away from the rest of the horde. It cocks its head in my direction before letting out a long string of clicks.
Shit. Another alpha. I could use Johnny and his air gun right now.
Rewind, stop, play.
The horde never stops advancing. Over their heads, I see Caleb, Reed, and Alvarez make a dash for the semi. Caleb snatches the keys stashed on the front wheel. The three young men haul ass to the back of the trailer, unlocking the door and getting the ramp in place.
Many of the zombies twitch at the noise made by the boys, but the alpha recording overrides their instinct to move toward noise. As soon as the ramp is in place, Caleb hauls ass back to the cab and jumps inside. Reed and Alvarez scramble first onto the hood of the cab, and then onto the top of the trailer.
The alpha comes in my direction, still clicking. I keep my eyes on it, hoping it won’t choose to issue a conflicting order. Reed and Alvarez pull out their guns, looking to me for permission. I shake my head. The alpha hasn’t yet done anything to jeopardize the mission. I don’t want to rile up the horde with gunfire if I don’t have to.
The alpha continues to move in my direction, head cocked and listening. It looks eerily self-aware.
I made a hard left, putting several dozen regular zoms between me and the alpha. It’s comforting to know Reed and Alvarez can shoot if necessary.
Rewind, stop, play.
“Come to Mama Bear,” I whisper.
Rewind, stop, play.
The alpha suddenly lets up a long ululating keen, followed by a string of clicks. The sound sends cold shivers across my shoulder blades. The zombies begin to rotate away from me and in the direction of the real alpha. The alpha has turned toward the semi, nose lifted and scenting the air. Shit. Can it smell Reed and Alvarez?
I can’t risk it. Johnny said that getting rid of the alphas was the best way to maintain control of the herd. The monster is on the very edge of the horde. I make a hard left, sprinting straight at the alpha. I raise my knife.
I see the moment when the alpha registers the threat. It lets out a long hiss, pivoting to face me.
I spring forward and strike. Hands encrusted with dried blood reach for me, pawing at my clothes.
My knife punches through its skull. The alpha lets out one last hiss before dropping at my feet in a puddle.
Just as it falls, two more zombies close in and reach for me. I stumble back.
Gunfire cracks. The two zombies fall. Shit. I’d hoped to dispatch the alpha silently.
The gunfire acts like a fire accelerant. The zoms instantly switch into feral mode. Growls and hisses run through their ranks as they turn back in the direction of the semi.
“Move, Kate,” Alvarez calls. He and Reed keep their weapons trained on the zoms.
I don’t need to be told twice. I cut an arc around the zombies and sprint for the semi. Instead of getting inside the cab with Caleb, I climb onto the trailer with Reed and Alvarez.
“Are we going to Pied Piper the zoms all the way to Fort Ross?” Alvarez asks.
I shake my head. “That will take too long. We get as many as we can into the back of the semi. Then we ram the shit out of Fort Ross and set them loose.”
“This doesn’t feel right.” Alvarez’s face is somber as he joins me in the back of the semi. “I agree we don’t have a better plan, but ...”
I squeeze his hand. “We’ll use the zombies just long enough to overwhelm Rosario’s people. Once we have them subdued, I’ll drive them out of the fort with the alpha recording.”
The plan is loose at best. We all know it. But with nothing else at our disposal, it’s our only option.
Drawn by the earlier gunshots, the zombies have already started back in the direction of the semi. I pull out the recorder and position myself over the open trailer door.
Reed grimaces at me. “We’re about to load up with passengers from hell.”
I hit play. The alpha recording rolls across the road. It may not project like an old-fashioned boom box, but it’s enough to get the attention of the zombies.
The reaction is instantaneous. Moans ripple among the ranks. Many of them begin loping toward the semi.
“Holy fuck,” Alvarez breathes. “I’m glad we’re on top of a semi.” He raises his gun, watching the approaching mass.
When the recording ends, the zombies slow, many of them turning in small circles as though searching for their leader. Rewind, stop, play. As soon as the recording begins playing again, they resume their forward lope.
In less than three minutes, the first zom reaches the semi. A dozen of them totter up the metal ramp into the truck bed. Another half dozen miss the ramp completely and bump up against the side of the trailer.
“No one ever said rounding up zombies was an exact science,” I mutter.
Rewind, stop, play.
I continue to lure the zombies into the trailer. Impatience thrums in my chest. No one ever said a zombie round up could be accomplished in thirty seconds, either.
“There’s another alpha.” Alvarez takes aim at a middle-aged zombie in a green jacket.
Sure enough, the zom clicks and keens its way down the road. It hadn’t been with the main pack a few minutes ago. It must have been somewhere nearby and come when it heard the commotion. A thick knot of zombies follows in its wake.
Alvarez takes his time, waiting until the alpha is fifty yards away. His shot echoes in my eardrums.
The alpha falls. The zombies clustered around it scratch at the air in confusion.
“Come on,” I murmur. “You have a new alpha now.”
Their heads cock. Slowly, they turn in my direction.
“That’s right,” I say. “Come on, assholes.”
Another group of zoms reaches us. Another dozen of them ambles into the semi-trailer. Another half dozen scratch at the outside of the truck in confusion, trying to figure out how to get inside.
Play, stop, rewind.
Play, stop, rewind.
In twenty minutes, we have at least fifty zombies inside the semi-trailer. We haven’t seen another alpha.
“Time to go,” I say. Fifty zoms are more than enough for our purposes.
“I hope you have a plan for getting the door closed from up here,” Reed says. “I’m not going down there.” He waves his gun in a downward direction, taking in the large group of zoms that’s clustered outside of the semi-trailer.
“We aren’t shutting the doors,” I reply. “We can’t waste time getting them back open when we hit Fort Ross. We need instant pandemonium.”
I gauge Alvarez’s reaction to this. He shakes his head but doesn’t argue with me. I can tell from his clenched jaw that he knows my plan is as good as it’s going to get.
Reed wrinkles his brow at me. “You’re cooking up one scary recipe, Mama.”
“I know. Come on.”
We hurry back to the cab. Half a dozen zombies have surrounded it. Their broken nails scratch against the paint. I don’t want to risk any of them getting caught in the wheels when we drive away from here.
I slide over the windshield, drawing my zom bat. “Come here, assholes,” I call.
The small contingent of them growls at the sound of my voice, moving in my direction.
Reed and Alvarez slide down beside me, also armed with knives.
“Here, zombie-zombie-zombie,” Reed chants.
“Come and get it,” Alvarez growls.
We quickly dispatch them, then climb into the cab with Caleb.
“Fire it up,” I tell him.
“But the doors in the back are still open,” Caleb protests. “And the ramp is still down.”
I shrug. “We’re not risking our lives to go back there and button everything up. Drive.”
“But—”
“Do you know how to drive this thing or not?” I ask.
Caleb grimaces. “Sort of.” He turns the key, letting the big rig hum to life.
Sort of. Well, that’s more than I can say. My mouth tightens as I look down the road to Fort Ross. I slide the tape player into the back kangaroo pocket of my pack where it can be easily accessed.
“Get us the hell out of here, Caleb.”
The semi lurches down the road. I glance in the sideview mirror and see a few zombies tumble out. The metal ramp shrieks loudly as it’s dragged over the pavement. Then unattached at the back, it falls to the ground with a bang.
“Instant pandemonium, here we come,” Reed says.
“God help us,” Alvarez says.