Zombie Attack! Rise of the Horde (10 page)

Yeah
, I thought.
And maybe you'll dislocate your
shoulder in the process.

But I wasn't ready to admit defeat. I wasn't leaving without
my blade!

I started to twist toward him but he must have sensed my
plan. He moved so fast it blew my mind. I hadn't imagined a guy his size could
be so agile! He spun around and locked my arm up, crushing my head into the
grass with one of his gigantic legs at the same time. Leaning back he held me
in an arm bar. The pain was beyond anything I can describe. He was literally
ripping my arm off! I thrashed in pure agony, screaming at the top of my lungs
and beating the ground. All the air seemed to go out of my body and for a
moment I thought I was going to pass out. Flashes of light began to pop behind
my eyes.

“Say Uncle,” Tank teased.

“No!” I managed. He leaned back again and the pain returned
like a wave of sickness. “UNCLE!” I screamed at the top of my lungs while I
slapped at the soft grass. Instantly, he let up and jumped to his feet.
Extending his hand, he offered to help me up. My first instinct was to try to
slap it away again, but I felt dizzy. I reached out to grab his hand, trying to
keep the world from spinning.

“Whoa there,” John cautioned stepping forward to help.
“Easy.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. Pain was still tingling
through my arm and shoulder but the humiliation was far worse than anything.
Sure he was bigger than me, but that wasn't the point. Fighting isn't about
size. It's about smarts. I'd seen small wiry monks easily defeat muscle bound
madmen because they were smarter, faster, and most of all, more controlled. I'd
been none of those things.

If Moto could see me now he would be disappointed
, I
thought.

I opened my eyes and stood up. Tank rubbed his jaw with one
hand and held me up with the other.

“Nice kick,” he admitted, “even if it was kind of a cheap
shot.”

“Thanks,” I countered. “Can I have my sword back now?”

“Sorry, but where I come from a deal is a deal,” he said
with a bloody smile. “Better luck next time.”

Tank let me go and grabbed his guns from the ground, lacing
on the belt again. John handed him my sword and he slipped it back over his
shoulder.

“Well that was exciting,” John said. “Now, if there aren't
any further objections, let's go for that ride.” He turned and walked over to
the white truck from the night before.

Pride is your real enemy,
I thought as I massaged my
arm and shoulder. What was done was done. I'd have to make the best of it. Being
hostile to John and his buddies wasn't going to get me anywhere. For now I'd
have to play along. I swallowed my pride and walked over to the truck, climbing
in the back.

“That's the spirit,” John sang. “Hang on now, and keep low.
We're heading into enemy territory.”

He started the truck, the engine roaring to life, and began
to back out. Benji got into a Jeep with Tank and Bruiser and followed us. I
didn't have the strength or the will to argue any more. I was glad to be in the
back, away from John's prying stare. The cool breeze did wonders to help chill
my embarrassment and dry the tears of shame that ran freely down my face in
defeat.

Things were pretty much normal for the first part of the
drive. We crossed over Ocean and went into another neighborhood that looked
almost identical to the one we'd just left. Aside from the lack of traffic and
the armed guards patrolling the streets on foot, it was just like any other day
prior to the zombie apocalypse. Tank followed us, grinning at me as he drove.

Keep smiling you big idiot,
I thought.
This ain't
over yet. How's that jaw feel?

We stopped in front of a random house and parked. Tank got
out of the car and went to the door, knocking on it and yelling out in a booming
voice. A minute later Joel and Tom came out dressed in camouflage from head to
toe. They both seemed to be in good spirits. I was suddenly glad that Joel
hadn't seen me lose to Tank. That seemed like more than I could handle at the
moment.

“Hop up in the front,” John hollered. I rolled out of the
back and got into the front passenger side. Joel and Tom got into the back of
the truck. Tank got back into his Jeep. “Believe it or not, you're going to
want to buckle up. We're heading to the border of New Lompoc. Never know when
things are going to get bumpy.”

I sighed. Reaching back, I grabbed the safety buckle and
dragged it across my chest, snapping it into place at my side.

“Happy?” I was still more than a little agitated about how
things had turned out this morning and I didn't care if he knew it. After all,
none of this would have happened if he hadn't taken my sword from me in the
first place.

“You're a hard guy to win over,” John said. “I thought for
sure the bacon would do the trick. Oh well. Here we go.”

John cranked the ignition. The truck roared to life. He
screeched off. Obviously this wasn't how he saw things going either.

We pulled through a cul-de-sac and back onto Ocean, heading
west. John had a long range walkie with him that kept going off with coded
reports that made no sense to me. It was annoying to hear all the chatter.

“You got a radio station in New Lompoc yet?” I asked,
reaching for the radio. He stopped me.

“We had one the first week,” he said. “But it went down
quickly. Drew in Unity Gang members like moths to a flame. They surrounded it
and burned it to the ground.” John looked upset.

“You lose a lot of good vinyl that day?” I said, trying to
be funny. “Some
Three Dog Night
and
Saturday Night Fever?
Abba?”

“I lost my brother that day,” John said, staring straight
ahead. “They locked him in and burned the place to the ground. Aaron never had
a chance.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, making eye contact with him for a
brief second to let him know I truly was remorseful. I hadn't intended on stirring
up bad memories. Seemed like nothing was going like I thought it would anymore.

“I appreciate that,” John replied in a reverent tone,
letting me off the hook. “Nothing to do about it now. I got a
Metallica
cassette in the tape deck, but now's not a great time to play it.”

“Why not?”

“I gotta listen in for updates and reports,” he explained,
holding up his walkie. “A short conversation could mean the difference between
life and death.”

“Just sounds like gibberish to me,” I protested. We passed a
bunch of old buildings that had been burned to the ground. From what was left
of them, I could make out a Taco Bell and a Der Weinerschnitzel.

We must be getting close,
I thought.
Man, I wish I
could have some Taco Bell right now. I'd gladly fight off a hundred zombies for
a Nacho Bellegrande® and two Doritos® Locos Tacos with a large Mountain Dew
right about now.

“That's just because it's coded,” he chuckled. “They got
radios too so we have to keep changing the meaning of things. A couple of
minutes ago a guy said 'blue bird on my shoulder' and another said 'cotton tail
on the rabbit trail'—did you catch that?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Sounds like rhyming phrases from a
kid's bedtime story.”

“Far from it,” John said with a smile. “The first means that
we are in route to the gas station. The second means that patrolling units have
confirmed we are on the move. We've been sighted coming up Ocean, most likely
by snipers.”

“You have snipers?” I asked with my jaw practically hanging
open.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

I was actually pretty terrified. John and his group of
military wannabe's were much more organized than I had expected. Sneaking away
was going to be harder than I imagined. It was starting to look like I was
going to be here a while.

“King is in the counting house,” a voice squawked over the
radio. “Pocket full of rye,” came the reply.

In the distance I could see the gas station. It was guarded
like a fortress. Instead of feeling safe, it filled me with dread. We slowed to
a snail's pace then pulled in through a line of armed guards who parted to let
us pass. John drove through them like Moses parting the Red Sea and parked.

“Stick by my side,” he suggested as he hopped out. I
followed his lead, giving him a little room as one guy after another came up to
him with questions. John had such a relaxed nature it was easy to forget he was
in charge of this whole operation. Quickly I began to see that a whole lot of
people counted on him for direction, for guidance, for support and
encouragement.

“We're running low on lights,” the first guy reported.

“Ask Jimmy,” John replied. “He's in village four. Radio over
to him.”

“Thanks,” the guy said and rushed off. The next guy in line
stepped up.

“Janine told me to let you know they are having problems
with the water purifier,” the bald man groused.

“What kind of problems?”

“I don't know,” the guy loudly sighed, scratching his patchy
red beard. “She thinks something is wrong with the filter.”

“Can you send Gilly over to look at patching it again?”

“I can, but I'm not sure a patch will fix it this time,” the
guy said.

“We gotta try,” John encouraged him. “If that fails we’ll go
to plan B.”

“What's plan B?”

“I'm working on it,” John said with a smile. The guy smiled
back.

“Got it.”

“Good man,” John remarked, giving him a friendly slap on the
back.

“We need more food rations,” a short bald guy explained.

“Bruiser is bringing back some grub after our border run.
How low are you?”

“Not critical,” the guy admitted. “We're down to beef jerky
and protein drinks. Another day and we're going to have guys scrounging in the
streets for bags of chips and road kill.”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” John laughed. “You're
starting to look pretty thin as it is. Plus I'm not sure the birds can handle
the competition. I've seen you tussle for meat. You're downright ornery when
you need to be.”

As the bald man walked away smiling and shaking his head a
short, wiry looking guy stepped up in his place, biting his fingertips in
between words.

“Project Wild Turkey is still in play,” the man boasted,
looking at me nervously. John's face changed.

“Just a minute,” he said, turning to me. “Can you give us a
moment alone?”

I nodded. John put his arm around the small man and they
walked away whispering to each other.

I turned to see the rest of the group hanging back near the
gas station office. Benji had found an old arcade game and plugged it in. He
was totally lost in a game of
Galaga
. Bruiser watched from the side,
excitedly cheering him on. I walked over to find the Parker twins sitting in
the office playing with their newly issued hand guns.

“What's up?” I said, trying to sound casual.

“I heard you got whopped this morning,” Joel goaded, picking
a fight right out of the gate. “Brutal.”

“I got in a few shots,” I said defensively.

“Yeah,” Joel shot back instantly. “I heard about your sucker
punch. Man, you are lucky that Tank didn't tear you in half for such a low
blow.”

I could feel my face heating up as the anger flooded through
me again.

“I see they gave you guys guns,” I observed, recalling
John's earlier remarks on the subject of arming civilians.

“Of course they did,” Joel bragged. “John knows talent when
he sees it.”

“Made us go through some safety and shooting tests first,”
Tom piped up, trying to keep the peace. “Ammo is in short supply. They made a
big deal out of explaining that we are supposed to exhaust all other means of
fighting before we discharge our weapons.”

“Does that mean you plan on staying here?”

“We are all staying here, genius,” Joel chided, escalating
the tension between us once again. “The road out of town is blocked by bikers
and gang bangers. You'd better wise up and start playing nice if you have any
brains at all. This is gonna be our new home for a while and the way you're
heading, you're not making any new friends.”

“I like it here,” Tom offered. “I had hot oatmeal this
morning with fresh fruit and a hot shower. It felt like things were almost
normal for a minute. Did you get a hot meal?”

“They probably gave him cold cereal with water instead of
milk,” Joel taunted. I decided not to mention the bacon and eggs. The last
thing I needed was another fight. The truth was, I was relieved that the twins
had bought John's propaganda hook, line and sinker. It meant I didn't have to
take them with us when Benji and I snuck off. Suddenly a huge weight felt like
it had been lifted off my shoulders.

Why would John go to such lengths to try to win me over?
He hadn’t put that much work into the others so why feed me bacon and beg me to
stay?

“They fed me,” I shrugged. “That shower was something else.”

“I just stood there for the longest time and let it wash
over me,” Tom confessed, his eyes sparkling with the happy memory.

“Yeah, me too. It was amazing.”

Joel seemed a little perturbed that I'd stopped feeding into
his taunts and insults. Whatever his agenda was, this wasn't it. It was like
the guy couldn't stand to see me happy for even a second.

“I hear you earned a new nickname,” Joel started in again.
“Sleeping Beauty, is it?”

That's it,
I thought.
I don't have to take this
kind of abuse from him or anyone else.

I balled up my fists and began to march blindly toward Joel,
ready to finish the fight we'd started the night before, out on the bridge. I
had every intention of smashing his brains in with my bare hands. It took him a
minute before Joel finally realized he'd gone too far. I don't know if he
thought the rest of John's crew was going to protect him or that I wouldn't
respond to his jeers, but he looked truly caught off guard. His eyes dashed to
his weapon on the desk then back to me, as if he was considering fending me off
at gunpoint.