Chapter 127

Trudge: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse By Shawn Chesser

Day 3 - Outskirts of Nampa, Idaho

 

Leo pulled first watch. His eyes played tricks on him a time or two but he didn’t wake anyone or shoot at shadows.

Sheila rapped on the driver’s side window causing Leo to literally jump out of his seat an inch or two. Leo smiled when he realized who it was. Shyly, he asked Sheila what she was still doing up.

“I couldn’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see her face, and I hear her voice constantly. Am I going crazy?” the pretty blonde asked.

“It sucks. Those walking dead motherfuckers suck. Life sucks without my little brother… So to answer your question, no, you are far from crazy. I ain’t crazy either. We are just so used to them always being with us,” Leo said, looking toward Sheila in the dark.

“I miss her so much!” Sheila started to sob silently, her body wracked with grief. Leo innocently rubbed her shoulder for a few minutes until she composed herself. Sensing that she could use some support he asked, “I was wondering, can I ride with you tomorrow? We can keep each other company.”

“Yes… yes you can. Maybe we can distract each other from thinking about… “

They sat in silence with their own thoughts until Cade materialized from the inky darkness ready to take over guard duty. Leo’s first impression was that Cade looked like a robot because of the NV goggles on his face.

Leo fell asleep under a sleeping bag on the third bench seat. Sheila slept stretched across the second row while Cade kept watch.

Cade could see his breath when he exhaled; the temperature had dropped off considerably after the sun made its exit. Even though his hands were growing numb from the cold, he kept the window open so he could rely on his sense of smell to warn him of any approaching undead. While keeping one eye on the surroundings he checked his phone for messages. He had no cell service and there were no new messages so he powered it off and turned on the stereo.  With the volume turned down very low Cade checked all of the AM and FM stations for news, but all he heard was white noise. There was an hour of watch left for him but he knew the luxury of sleeping afterward was out of the question. During Ranger training and the Special Forces qualifying course he had gone days with little or no sleep. He would do that now because he knew their lives depended on him. Cade also felt a huge responsibility for Leo, especially after what had happened to Ike. 

With nothing to do but stare into the dark and listen to the steady rhythmic breathing coming from the back seat, he reflected on the day gone by. It was eerie how deserted the freeways had been. Since leaving Portland they seemed to be the only denizens of the road. Cade guessed that they had found themselves caught between two roadblocks on the interstate. The government was taking this quarantine thing dead seriously. 

In the distance the pinpoints of light gave them away before the big engines announced their approach. A very raucous group of Harleys passed by at around 3:30 am as Rawley’s watch was about to start; they came back a short while later and probed the parking lot with their headlights. They stayed near the rest stop entrance for two or three minutes, motors idling and beating out a deep throated cadence. Cade and Rawley counted four headlights.

“What do you make of that?” Rawley said when the bikers turned and roared off into the Idaho night, red taillights diminishing in the distance.

“They’re bandits and they’re sizing us up. We’ve got enough vehicles here that they probably decided to get reinforcements.”

“Do you gather they’re the same murderers Duncan mentioned?”

“Dollars to doughnuts, one and the same,” Cade said bleakly.

Everyone awoke at dawn; as soon as the sun arose so did the temperature. It was going to be a hot day in the high desert.

Cade filled the group in on the evening incursion and reminded everyone to stay frosty and be aware of their surroundings. He finished by telling the drivers that in case of an attack or ambush, “Accelerate through the kill zone and regroup. Whatever you do, do not stop!” He spoke slowly and was careful to add extra emphasis on the do not stop part.

Breakfast consisted of MREs and bottled water. Weapons were loaded, gas tanks were filled and then the five dusty vehicles exited the rest stop single file.

“This is Rawley, come in.”

Cade found it amusing how unnatural Rawley sounded when he talked on the Motorola, considering he used to make a living singing and playing the guitar.

“Copy that,” he replied.

A little static came from the speaker. “How about I take the lead for a while?” Rawley asked.

“Copy that,” Cade replied again.

Rawley’s white Bronco overtook the Sequoia and held a steady forty-five miles an hour while dodging single stalls and slowing considerably for multiple vehicle choke points. On a couple of occasions he put the bull bar on the Bronco to use and handily pushed the stalled cars off of the road.

They were making good time and nearing Nampa, Idaho when they needed to stop to siphon fuel. A group of undead thrashed about in a Chevy Suburban as Rawley nervously emptied its large gas tank of unleaded. He was pretty sure they couldn’t unlock the doors, but stranger shit had happened. With one eye on the undead and one eye on the gas can he finally finished his unnerving task. Not wanting to waste ammo he left them to bake in the sun on their eternal road trip. 

Leo had taken to riding with Shelly and she also welcomed his company and felt more secure with another person in the car. Their conversation settled on how things had been growing up with a close sibling and how they had enjoyed the camaraderie, but abhorred the rivalries. Shelly changed the subject and tried to imagine the future without Sheila. Not wanting to think about what was in store for him, Leo clammed up.

Harry’s Camaro started running rough soon after they left the rest stop. It was overheating and wouldn’t hold water. They inspected under the hood and found a burst hose. Not wanting to attempt a roadside repair, Harry reluctantly decided to leave it on the shoulder. He put his meager belongings into Duncan’s truck, got in and rode shotgun. He took one last glance at his fully restored pride and joy and then focused on the road ahead. Being a quiet sensitive kind of guy he was having a hard time coping with the new reality, as well as the loss of his one true accomplishment. He and his wife had lovingly restored that car. Harry was in a real funk that stemmed from the fact he wasn’t around to help his wife when the dead started walking. Losing the Camaro was the last straw.

Sensing his sadness Duncan said, “You can get yourself any one of those 2010 models when we find a Chevy lot. And I’m pretty sure that some dead guy walking around out there isn’t going to need his classic Camaro… either way I’m sure you’ll find a replacement.”

“Screw the car. I want to find my wife.” Tears were forming in Harry’s eyes. “She never came home from the mall the first day of the outbreak. I tried calling the police, the hospitals and her family out of town. Poof! She just vanished.”

“Do you have any other family nearby?”

Harry dried his eyes with his sleeve. “No, none whatsoever. My wife has a brother and sister up in Olympia, Washington, but nobody answered their phone when I called. My wife Margaret had been gone less than a day when I tried to report her as missing. They told me that it had to be more than twenty-four hours since there was any contact before they would take a report. I waited and tried to make the report… by then it was too late, the police were not answering anyone’s calls. I suspect that they were combating the violence that was breaking out all over the city. Anyway… I couldn’t handle the stress. I just started driving.”

“I’m sorry man, I had no idea,” Duncan commiserated with a pained look on his face. He was clearly embarrassed that he brought up replacing it at all. Being a lifelong bachelor and never really getting along with the fairer sex, Duncan didn’t have much to say concerning Harry’s wife’s disappearance. Besides, he thought, Women are always leaving me and not coming back.

“It’s OK. I plan on going back and looking for her when the quarantine is lifted and Portland is back to normal. I just followed you people because it was the path of least resistance.”

“If there is any way I can help, let me know.”

“Thanks Duncan. If I ever do get over losing that Camaro, how about you do the negotiating when we find a car lot? I hate car salesmen anyhow… especially undead ones.”

Given the absurdity of their situation, the men laughed at the thought.

They drove on in silence, each man wrestling with his own thoughts.

“Why didn’t I think of this earlier?” Duncan asked himself, breaking the quiet and startling Harry. Duncan reached over and punched open the glove box. Inside was a shiny new Citizens Band radio. Duncan answered his own question. “I guess out of sight is as good as out of mind. I never have used this toy anyways.”

He turned on the CB radio and asked Harry to scan the channels while he focused on driving. Harry seemed pleased to finally have something to keep him busy.

“Did you catch that?” Harry asked excitedly.

The transmission was faint. On channel fourteen they listened to two men talking about five vehicles on the highway. A light bulb went off in Harry’s head. “I’m beginning to think those fellas are talking about our little convoy.”

Duncan honked his horn and flashed his lights to alert the others.

The four vehicles crowded close as they slowed and stopped in the middle of the road.

“They’re stopping,” a man’s voice said over the CB.

“Keep an eye on them. Tell me when they move again.”

“Roger that. Hey man, they’ve got a blonde with them.”

Harry arched his eyebrows and knowingly looked at Duncan.

“There’s the proof. They are talking about us. We had better be careful; it doesn’t sound like they are watching us for fun.”

Cade leaned in the open driver’s side window. Harry told him his suspicions and repeated verbatim the conversation they had intercepted.

They listened to the CB for a few minutes.

Cade keyed the two-way and hailed Rawley to fill him in. “No offense but I’m going to take point again.”

“No problem, want me to bring up the rear?”

“Yeah, but be extra vigilant and watch your six, we don’t know where they’re watching us from. I want to give your radio to Harry so he can keep me informed of what they’re saying on the CB,” Cade said into his Motorola.

Cade walked down the line of vehicles to the Bronco and retrieved the radio from Rawley. Note to self, we need to find a couple more radios and fresh batteries for the ones we have before they go dead.

Harry was going to have his hands full, literally, CB in one hand, two-way radio in the other. Once they were on the move again the same voice on channel fourteen continued reporting their actions. If Harry’s hunch was right, these people watching them were the same group that had probed them the night before. Harry started to worry.

They drove through open range, interspersed with small stands of trees. They didn’t plan on stopping again until the flatland turned hilly and the trees were abundant enough to provide them adequate cover.

Cade’s SUV led, followed by the red VW Cabriolet containing Leo and Sheila. Rawley was in the “O.J.” Bronco, and Duncan and Harry brought up the rear in the lifted 4x4.

“We’re still being watched,” Harry reported to Cade on the Motorola.

Cade planned to continue driving until it appeared they were no longer under surveillance, then double back on foot and go on a solo recon of the surrounding hills to find their secret admirers.

The flat open area they had driven through for the last ten miles was finally giving way and they entered a pine tree-lined highway.

 Cade registered the out-of-place mound of dirt a second too late. The Sequoia absorbed a fraction of the blast, just enough to move the big rig a little. In the mirror he saw the little red VW disappear in the violent explosion, recipient of the bulk of the energy and shrapnel.

Cade remembered all too well the distinctive sound of automatic weapons fire and bullets impacting sheet metal. These first sounds of an ambush were engraved in his memory from his time spent in the sandbox. 

“Do not stop!” he screamed into the hand-held Motorola. The first order of business was to get out of the kill zone.

The remaining two vehicles rolled through the blast area and took sporadic fire; they had to swerve to avoid the carcass of the little convertible. As he passed by, Rawley was high enough off of the ground to see into the smoking VW. Under the shredded remains of the soft-top, Sheila and Leo were still moving. Rawley started to slow his Bronco while anxiously glancing in the rear view mirror, but thought better of it. A side quarter window on his passenger side exploded. Gunfire continued pouring from the woods.

The Sequoia and the Dodge were safely out of the kill zone but the white Bronco lagged behind. Cade abruptly braked and stopped in the middle of the road. Duncan nearly collided with him but managed to squeeze the big 4x4 by on the right and perform a U-turn to form up next to the Sequoia. They had stopped several hundred yards from where the attack had taken place.

Back at the ambush site undead emerged from the woods, shambling towards the wreck.

Rawley watched helplessly in his rearview mirror as the ghouls arrived at the stationary car and began tearing apart the boy and the young lady he secretly had taken a liking to. Making an emotional snap decision, he applied the brakes. The Bronco’s tires chirped, belching blue smoke. He made the Bronco do a one-eighty, stopped in place momentarily, and then raced back to the horrific scene. While driving one-handed, he depressed the thumb switch for the laser on the SKS assault rifle and flicked the safety off. Next he pushed a button on the dash that started the motorized sunroof opening. Screeching to a halt, he put the Bronco in park and stood up in the sunroof shouldering his rifle. The zombie he targeted had no idea there was a red dot painting its gray forehead; the only thing it knew was that it needed to eat. A 7.62 bullet stopped the need.

Leo and Shelly had initially suffered dreadful mortal wounds from the blast. The undead sped up the process as they stripped the pair of their flesh from the waist up. Rawley watched as they both started to reanimate and were now fighting to escape their seatbelts. Saying a heartfelt “Sorry” under his breath, Rawley shot Leo through the temple, ceasing his struggles. He painted the laser beam on what used to be Sheila, his finger tightening on the trigger. His head was blown apart by a supersonic .50 caliber bullet before the command from his brain could make his finger pull the trigger.

Randall Trask was enraged that his spotter had detonated the device two seconds too late, not to mention the fact that the other penetrator IED failed totally. His incompetence ensured some of them would escape. Dumb fuck was probably stoned.

The moment Trask saw the pink vapor through the scope and watched the man’s headless torso slump over the windshield, the former-Marine scout sniper knew he had another confirmed kill. He caressed the hog’s tooth hanging from his neck while he waited for “dumb fuck” to spot another target for him.

“I think the other two trucks got away,” the spotter said, stammering nervously.

“Keep glassing idiot.”

The skinny spotter watched the baited zombies. They were clumsily trying to get at the bottom half of the man stuck in the white SUV. Since the windows were only half way open, it was going to take them awhile to eat the cooling corpse.

Earlier that day as the rising sun washed the Idaho foothills with golden light, the shooter and his spotter watched the men prepare the ambush site on the road below. Jerrod dug the holes for the two devices; they were roughly two hundred feet apart. When the digging was finished the zombie bait was strung up. The two men had survived the previous day’s ambush. Now they both wished that they hadn’t. It took an hour for them to bleed to death; the two in the sniper hide watched the men suffer terribly as the ghouls ate them from the feet up. Not only did it provide morbid entertainment, it also guaranteed there would be undead milling around the kill zone.

Cade observed the Bronco slew around, stop, and accelerate in the other direction through the haze from the smoking tires. He watched it all unfold in slow motion knowing that Rawley was out of control and putting his life in danger.

 The moment Rawley’s head disintegrated, Cade knew that his new friend was dead. He had been on the giving end of a Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle and had seen firsthand, magnified thirty times, the damage it could inflict. Shaking his head bitterly, he knew there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome.