Read Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) Online

Authors: TW Brown

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (35 page)

BOOK: Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6)
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Afterwards, with all the sounds of glass breaking and things crumbling, those things simply lay still for at least five minutes. At first I thought that maybe…just maybe…it was over.  At least here.  Then, they started getting back up and wandering about on their little zombie errands.

The quake wasn’t massive. But still…it was extremely scary. We checked out our place and everything seems okay.

A freakin’ earthquake. Sheesh!

 

Saturday, November 8

 

We have to get out of here. I’m going stir crazy! I can’t explain it. My rational mind is screaming that I find someplace and stay put. I’ve left Irony. Huckleberry Gulch. For what?

All I know for certain right now is that I have to get the hell outta this damned strip club. Even that house was a better place than this. At least I had windows.

I’m certain that Jenifer and Dom feel the same. Either that, or we just happen to be the three biggest bitches in the world.

Wait! Considering the current state of global affairs that might be true!

 

Sunday, November 9

 

Tomorrow we are making a run. We will aim for the house I stayed at. From there, we will start leapfrogging. If we don’t leave tomorrow…we may never get another chance.

We’ve been spotted…and I don’t think they are friendly.

 

Tuesday, November 11

 

And now there are four. We added a new member to our little clan. His name is Sean Byers, and he is nineteen. Jenifer and Dominique are like a pair of wiggly puppies.  But first, the past forty-eight hours have been a bit crazy. Everybody got a little bloody yesterday. Both girls made me proud.

We were up well before sunrise. I’d decided that using darkness as a cover was our best bet. A pair of armored trucks had cruised us twice on Sunday. I was certain they were trying to gauge our numbers. If they were friendly, they would have tried to make some sort of direct contact. So I was fairly certain that this was gonna be ugly.

We were horribly unprepared to deal with an enemy d
irectly. However, I also saw an opportunity. We snuck out, as planned, and made for the burned out husk of a used-car dealership almost directly across the street. All the window frames were free of any glass, so we slipped inside and waited.

The girls were a little antsy. Hey…nobody really
likes
being out in the open, so-to-speak. I made it very clear that they were to sit still, shut-up, and be ready to move when I said so. I wish I could bottle whatever it was in my look or tone, because neither of them said a word after that.

About an hour or so later, but still well before sunrise, one of the armored trucks rolled to a stop. I’d watched them as they cut the engine a few blocks away and coasted in on the qu
iet. They were definitely up to no good.

Three men climbed out of the cab and moved in slowly. One disappeared around back, and another took the side to the right as you face the building. That was when I signaled for the girls to wait, and I climbed out the window. Using all the cover I could find, but still moving at a crouched speed-walk pace, I made it to their truck.

When I got close, I could see there was still one guy sitting in the driver’s seat. Fortunately, this cowboy had his window open! He never saw the butt of my shotgun. A solid hit to the temple is a good stunner. The hard part was reaching in, pulling him out, and jamming a metal spike through his throat.

What I’d taken for careless and cocky was, in fact, a n
ecessity. The window was actually broken. The doors had been welded shut. The only way in or out of the cab was through the window. (I’d find out that little fact later from Sean.)

Once I pulled the body the rest of the way out and did a quick frisk for weapons, I climbed in. The whole time, I had one eye on the three men scaling rope ladders to the roof of our fo
rmer bastion. As soon as they reached their goal, I turned the key, started the truck, and peeled out for the car lot. I pulled up to the window like I was at a drive-thru and yelled for the girls.

The three men were smart enough not to waste any time shooting at me.  Instead, they scrambled off the roof, jumping as soon as they cleared the lip, and sprinted after their newly pi
lfered vehicle.  I didn’t give them enough time to get more than halfway across the street before I had Dom pulled through my window enough so that I could go.  I aimed the vehicle at their lead runner, who wisely dove aside as we rocketed past.

I knew I didn’t want to bee-line for anyplace I truly i
ntended to hide.  I considered making a run for the interstate and heading back east a bit.  The only problem being that I didn’t want to risk driving through what I remembered as being very much like a warzone.  Also, the second armored truck was coming from that direction.

I screamed for the girls to hold on and I took a hard left, blowing through a cyclone fence and into a schoolyard.  Across the overgrown field we went until we smashed through a woo
den fence that put us in what was once somebody’s backyard.  I said a quick prayer as we exploded through another fence.  Luck was on our side, and we came out on a narrow strip of knee-high grass that ran between two houses.  I clipped a wooden post with a basketball hoop still hanging cockeyed from the top.

Turning right on the residential street, I noticed we were bringing in crowds of zombies from every direction.  I’ve seen herds of the damned things that number in the thousands, yet there never seems to be a shortage no matter where I run.  An
yways, I knew that another right would put me back on 82
nd
Avenue.  Since my goal was to disappear into a residential zone, that seemed to be the best choice.

I paused for just a moment when I reached the strip, and that was my fortune.  Actually it was Jenifer who spotted the big propane tank next to the non-descript and unidentifiable buil
ding.  She and Dom had gone through the cab and came up with four flares and a tire iron.

Looking around, I couldn’t see our pursuers.  I was ho
ping all the zombie traffic a couple blocks back had slowed them.  It was also in that momentary pause that I heard the pounding coming from the cargo area.  I’d have at least a few seconds warning before anything would be on top of us so…I pulled up next to the propane tank, lit off a flare, dropped it beside the tank, and then drove to the corner.  Climbing out so I could fire across the roof, I waited.  Finally, the other truck came into view.  Just as it was almost parallel to that tank, I made a wish and fired.

The explosion was enough to knock me backwards from my window perch.  I landed awkward on my left shoulder and the shotgun skittered away.  The pain was sharp, but the only thing on my mind was if I’d hurt the baby. 

I could see that the other truck had been knocked over onto its side.  Also, while all the zombies nearby had been knocked over, more were coming…from everywhere.  I couldn’t see the shotgun and didn’t have the time to look for it.  The girls had to help me climb into the truck and we were off.  Oddly enough, the clearest path was now back the way we’d just come from.  Speeding past the truck, I was a little surprised to see somebody climbing out.

There was enough light from the fire that I could see the guy was bleeding pretty heavily from a nasty head wound.  I could also see several figures gathering around the disabled truck.  That guy had the audacity to wave!  Yeah…like I was gonna pull up and rescue the bastards who were gonna try and raid us or God-knows-what.  Then two more climbed out.  Now there were three of them standing on the side of the armored truck.  We took a turn down a mostly empty street, that was the last we saw of them.  Three men surrounded by several hundred very eager zombies.

I drove down dark streets with only a slight glow from the moon above when it would peek from behind the thick clouds.  The explosion had brought them out from everywhere.  Spread out but numerous, the zombies were a definite concern.  We’d gone maybe a mile when the truck sputtered and died.  I hadn’t even thought to check the gas gauge.

There we were, in some dark residential area, no wea
pons other than three spiked bats, a spike-tipped pole, three flares, and a tire iron. Whoever was in the back of the truck began pounding again with much more urgency.  More out of hope that there might be some supplies in back, I had Dom open the door while Jenifer and I waited with bat and spear.

Dominique flung the door open and dove to the side.  That is when we met Sean Byers.  He was on his stomach, hog-tied
and
handcuffed.  He’d been beat up pretty good, but could move on his own.  I pulled his gag out, deciding that this was a bit too elaborate to be a hoax.  Meanwhile, Jenifer was urging me to hurry.  I briefly explained bits of the evening’s events as I untied him.  We didn’t have keys to the cuffs, so he had to run with us with his hands behind his back.  I remember thinking
, where is a cop car when you need it

Oh yeah…there wasn’t a damned thing in the back of the armored truck…except Sean.

We reached an intersection, and I could see a lot of movement to our left.  Straight ahead there were only a few.  To the right, it was a little hairy, but I saw a big house with a large open yard and a sturdy fence.  My thinking was that we could cut through, come out the other side, and lose the herd chasing us and growing larger with every passing block.

I took the lead, bashing a couple of those bastards along the way.  We reached the fence and discovered that the only gate was locked with a hefty padlock. Not having the time to try and bust it, I told Sean he’d have to climb up on my back and vault over.  Dom went first so she could try to help him.

The fence was one of those fancy wrought-iron sorts with pointy tops on each spirally bar.  Basically, a row of spears.  The horizontal bars were shaped like railroad tracks with the spears running through them.  All-in-all, a very sturdy design.

Sean made it over without breaking his neck, which left me and Jenifer…and about fifteen of the walking dead.  Jenifer put a foot in my clasped hands and pulled herself up as I heaved.  A hand grabbed my shoulder as I stood up, helping to propel

Jenifer, but Dom jabbed the tire iron into the side of the thing’s head.  All I saw was a body tumble to the ground beside me.

It had collapsed in a heap, so I actually was able to use the corpse as a step.  As I went over, another of those things grabbed my pant leg.  Fortunately, all I lost was a bit of pride as my pants ended up halfway to my knees before a fold snagged on one of the fence-top spikes and tore.  Thankfully the girls caught me.  Sean earned a few points for looking away as I struggled to haul my drawers up.

We cut down the side of the house and into a backyard that resembled a jungle straight out of a
Tarzan
movie.  I’m talkin’ huge plants and dangling vines, along with a thick undergrowth of bushes.  I could see that there was a tall brick fence, and, noting the lack of
any
zombie presence, decided this was as safe a place as any to catch our breath.

We had to jimmy open the backdoor, and in no time we were inside.  The house was mostly empty.  By that I mean that, from the looks of things, the wife turned…bit the husband…who shot the wife…then splattered his brains in the upstairs bat
hroom.

Yay! We found guns! The girls and I were in the act of loading a pair of hunting rifles and a nifty double-barrel shotgun, (the one the husband had swallowed in the tub) and deciding what to do with Sean when the backdoor slammed open.  On r
eflex Dom spun and fired both barrels—her shoulder is a lovely shade of purple now—and Jenifer put a round from the .30-30 in the right eye of the person who foolishly charged in behind his cohort who’d just had the majority of his chest blown out.  I don’t know if they were escapees from that armored truck, or two guys who followed us in all the insanity, or what…but they’re dead now. As for me…I need a nap.

 

Wednesday, November 12

 

Tomorrow, the four of us are going to make a move. However, this house is actually a bit of a gold mine. The guns were a nice find, but we only found one box of ammo for the shotgun and it wasn’t brand new…only seven shells. For the pair of .30-30s we did a little better. We have twelve rounds each.

Also, we found a few items of the canned food variety, and some really fancy, high-end camping gear.
A bunch of
Columbia Sportswear
coats and shoes that fit Jenifer and me were in a closet upstairs. We found a couple of super nice sub-zero sleeping bags. Basically, it was like winning an REI shopping spree.

We do have quite a crowd of zombies out front, but out back over the brick fence isn’t too bad. We were gonna leave today, but something Sean said has us waiting for nightfall. B
efore he was captured, he’d been in the process of gearing up for a trip to Las Vegas.

He’s heard the broadcast twice, but only at night.

 

Thursday, November 13

 

It’s not like we have a timetable or a schedule to keep. We spent the night in shifts with a portable boom-box that Sean found in the laundry room. We went through a drawer full of junk and found batteries that worked. (Like I said, this place is a gold mine.)

BOOK: Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6)
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