Posts Tagged ‘Apocalypse’

Finders Keepers – Part 1

Posted: June 13, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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Harry and Liz changed places. He settled behind the wheel and kept watch for pursuers using the side mirror. Liz gathered her medical supplies and made her way to the man and his children.

“The minute I see him, I’m getting this rig cranked and we’re out of here.” Harry announced. “Get that guy fixed up.”

Liz studied the man sitting at the table. His sandy blond hair was matted and greasy. His thin face was drawn and haggard looking.

Finally, she spoke. “Hi. My name is Liz. You have an injury?”

“My name is Jack Green.” The man answered. “Needn’t bother.”

“Well, let me try to patch you up for now.” Liz answered as she passed him a compression bandage. “How old are your children?”

“Cody is thirteen. Trace is only nine.” Jack answered.

Liz smiled at the kids. “Hi. Are you two hungry?” Both kids nodded emphatically. “We have some food in the cabinet in the kitchen behind you. Get something to eat and drinks. Bring something for your dad.”

When the kids had stepped away, Liz pulled the cloth from the wound and cringed at the site of a human bite.

“I know what this means. Your friends should have left me behind.” Jack protested.

“Well, they didn’t, so now I’m going to try to help.” Liz responded.

“It’s a waste of resources. I’m going to die.” Jack answered.

“Look, I’m doing this for the kids. They need to learn to trust us. You’ll be gone and we’re their only hope of survival. I don’t want to have to worry they’ll sneak out in the middle of the night.”

Jack looked down. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m grateful you took us in.”

The engine of the camper roared to life and the side door jerked open. John climbed into the camper and slammed the door. “Go!” Still gasping for air he slumped into the passenger seat. “Those fuckers are crazy.” He spun the seat around and glared at Jack. “What in the hell did you bring down on us?”

“Sorry.” Jack whispered. “We were….”

“Enough!” Liz interrupted. “It’s not their fault. They could be the same people that attacked us and have been looking for us all along. They might have driven by and seen the padlock broken. These people could be caught up in our problems not the other way around.”

John sighed. “I suppose you could have a point there.”

“It doesn’t matter how they found us. I hope your little stunt slows them down enough to get us out of this.” Harry laughed.

“I thought it worked out pretty well.” John rubbed at his side. “It didn’t help that cracked rib, though. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Hey, at least, we’re driving in style.” Harry answered. “Get your rifle and be ready in case that crew follows us.”

“Got it.” He grabbed a bottle of water and a package of trail mix. He went to the back of the vehicle and opened the window.

Liz poured peroxide over the wound and finished bandaging Jack’s shoulder. The children came back from the kitchen, their arms filled with packages and bottles. They squeezed in next to their father and began gulping at the food.

Liz returned the supplies to the cabinet then settled at the table across from the family. “Been a while since you had something to eat?”

Jack sipped at a bottle of water. “Three days, I think. A dozen of us were in a small “mom-n-pop” store. We’d been there nearly a week. It was amazing. It had a wood stove, a creek in the back and plenty of canned and packaged foods. I guess they supplied hunters and back packers. We ate packaged foods, cleaned up in the creek, and had plenty of water. They even had some clothes.  We found clean shirts and cargo pants, boots and socks. Shit, we thought we were in heaven.”

“I’ll bet.” Liz answered.

Jack sighed as he wiped at the moisture that had collected on his face. “Can the kids get cleaned up?”

“Sure.” Liz smiled at the kids. “Just use a sink full of water. We’re trying to save what’s in the tank since we don’t know if we can get it filled up again on our way.”

The kids headed to the back of the camper.

“You sound like you have a destination in mind. Where are you heading?” Jack asked.

My dad has property in the mountains. We’re headed there.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I won’t be around much longer and my kids will be left alone. Will you take them with you?”

“Dad, we don’t need them!” Cody called from the back of the camper. “I’ll take care of us.”

Jack sighed. “Cody, you know what’s gonna happen. You saw what happened to your mom.”

“Dad?” Cody’s voice broke. “You can’t leave us. I won’t let you just give us away.” He ran to his father and collapsed into the seat next to him.

Liz got up and moved to the passenger seat. Tears threatened as she listened to Jack talking to his son.

“Cody, it’s time for you to grow up. I got bit, you know it and you know what it means. I want you to stay with these folks. They didn’t have to save us, but they did. You need help protecting your sister. You know what they did to those women in the store.”

“Dad?” Cody cried.

“Enough. I mean it. You promise to do what these folks say and help them protect your sister. She’s going to need you. Now, more than ever. Promise me.”

Cody remained quiet. The only sound was him sniffling. Finally he whispered. “Yes sir.”

Jack leaned back and took a long deep quivering breath. Trace came out of the bathroom and settled on the bench across from her father and brother.

For the first time Liz could see the younger child was a girl. She had dark hair that had been cut short with heavy bangs across her forehead. She had combed her hair.

When she gave her father a hint of a smile, her dimples reminded Liz of her own daughter. She quickly turned back to the road ahead. Two stray children would not replace the daughters she lost.

From the narrow gravel road, Harry found a blacktop the GPS identified was State Road 54. They turned on the highway and Harry kept the speedometer hovering around sixty miles after mile.

“This is dangerous. What if we come over a hill and run into something?” Liz protested.

“Is it any more dangerous than those assholes finding us?” Harry answered.

Liz shrugged. “You may have a point. “ She walked back to the father and children.

One look at the father and she announced.

“You need to lie down.”

Jack rose then slipped back into the seat. “You need to stop and leave me.” He sighed. “You can’t let me hurt my children.”

Liz reached out to gently pull Jack to his feet. “You come lay down. Right now, we need to let you rest.” When Jack lay down, she whispered. “We won’t let you hurt anyone, but for now, we need the kids to see they can trust us and you can help with that by letting us take care of you.”

Searchers – Part 2

Posted: June 8, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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They rode in silence for nearly thirty minutes before Randy pulled his foot from the accelerator and elbowed a dozing Miguel.

“Sí.” Miguel said then cleared his throat when he realized he’d nodded off. “What is it Señor Randy?”

“Ahead.” He answered.

They both looked toward half a dozen cars scattered across the road. Doors had been left open. The vehicles had been abandoned, no people living or infect seemed to be around. As they rolled closer, Randy pulled his handgun from the holster at his waist and slid it at the side of his right leg, next to the center console.

Miguel rolled down the window and laid his rifle on the window ledge. Randy glanced in his side mirror and noticed another rifle extend out the window of Pablo and Hugo’s truck. Randy drew closer to the vehicles.

“See anything?” Randy asked.

“No. I no see anyone.” Miguel answered.

Randy slowed as they rolled past the first car, an SUV. The white vehicle showed signs of abuse. They saw splotches of dark brown on the shattered head lights and along the front side panels and hood. The doors were thrown open. Inside, bags were torn open and the contents scattered. The back door gaped open with clothes hanging out.

Randy whispered. “There’re keys in the ignition.”

“Out of gas, maybe?” Miguel answered.

The trucks eased past the SUV and they drew near the next stalled car. It was an older sedan with a shattered grill and front end damaged. The doors were closed and again, no sign of the driver or occupants.

“What do you think?” Miguel asked.

Randy made a quick shrug. “No idea.”

He eased the truck around three more vehicles then a massive pileup came into view. At least a dozen vehicles blocked the road. The two vehicle at the front had crashed head on with several other vehicles slamming into the first car. The crashes were so violent none of those involved remained intact; all were reduced to massive piles of twisted and destroyed metal. Many had burned.

The road was completely blocked. The debris stretched from fence row to fence row. Among the crumpled metal was moving and thrashing bodies. The road was impassable. One side of the road was a wooded briar tangled wall. The opposite side had once been a pasture but now was tangled with massive stands of mesquite and clusters of cactus.

“What we do now?” Miguel asked.

“Get wire cutters out of the tool box behind the seat.” Randy answered. “Let’s get Pablo to come up and drive this truck. We’ll open the fence over there.” He pointed to an expanse between two fence posts with a shallowing of the ditch.

Miguel leaned out the window and waved at Pablo. “Vienen aquí Pablo!”

Pablo jumped from the truck and jogged toward the pickup.

Randy stepped out of the truck. “Tu disco.”

“Sí, I drive.” Pablo answered as he slid behind the wheel.

After putting on a pair of leather gloves, Randy pulled two machetes from behind the seat. He passed one to Miguel then turned to Pablo.

“Follow, but not too close. Let us pick a way through the mesquite. Don’t run over any of that shit. I don’t want to be changing a tire out there. We don’t have a clue where all those people went.”

“Sí, Señor Randy.”

Miguel and Randy walked to the barbed-wire fence.  Miguel cut the top strand next to a cedar post. Randy grabbed the end and pulled it back to the nearest post and tied it off. They repeated the procedure two more times. Randy waved for the trucks to follow.

Randy and Miguel walked to the south and led the trucks around a massive stand of mesquite. The trucks rumbled after the men barely out of idle. Past the mesquite stand was open grass for nearly a quarter mile then they faced with a massive rock formation.

Randy called out to Miguel. “Check to the north, I’ll go south.” He held up his had to stop the truck. “Wait.”

The truck stopped and Pablo threw a wave from the window and called out. “Be careful amigo.”

Randy called out.“Miguel, don’t take any chances. We don’t know what happened to the people from the accident and stalled cars.” Randy called out.

“Sí.” Miguel answered as he disappeared around the outcropping.

Randy walked a hundred feet before he noticed the first few drops of dark brown in the sand. He walked another thirty feet before he squatted and picked up a pencil of mesquite and poked at a dark puddle. The pool broke into pieces leaving chunks of white chips and a few unidentifiable chunks.

He stood and began following a trail of brown droplets. A stand of mesquite had long ago sprouted at the base of the rocks. Randy walked toward the edge of the mesquite. He walked to the edge and headed around and suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Ahead, Randy saw the remains of several bodies lying in the sand and rocks where Behind them was a solid wall of stone. The bodies were covered in wounds. Flesh was torn from the bodies, limbs separated from torsos, leaving the remains barely be identified as human. The stench rolled over him in a blanketing cloud of disgusting smells.

Randy gulped and the remnants of breakfast spewed from his lips. He leaned over propping himself up with his hands on his knees. He stood for several minute, struggling to control the dry heaves tearing at his stomach. When he finally got himself under control he pulled his elbow over his lower face and stared at the remains.

The survivors of the car crash had escaped through the fence and out into the brush and mesquite. They were being chased by infected. They ran and were slaughtered when they reached the wall. Even in the sorry state of the bodies as Randy stood there, heads turned his way, mouths opened, and teeth gnashed.

Randy looked around, suddenly frightened. Sand, desert, the infected. Where were they? He turned and began retracing his path. He could feel eyes bearing down on him and quickened his step. A few minutes later he was jogging then, running. He felt as if he could feel hot breath on his neck. He met the trucks and jumped into the passenger seat of his truck.

“Drive….” He called out as the first of the infected appeared in the distance. “Follow Miguel.”

The truck tires spun into action at Randy’s harried command. “Go!” He ordered. “They’re coming!”

Both trucks roared past the rock formation. They accelerated until they saw a man jogging toward them in the distance. The familiar shape of Miguel walking toward them made Pablo slow the truck.

Randy opened the door and Miguel slid in next to Pablo.

“It’s open ahead. Straight shot back to the highway.” Miguel announced.

The Pied Piper – Part 2

Posted: May 28, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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He pointed the barrel of the automatic weapon at the man called Stubby. “You keep yourself nice and frosty.”

Grant slammed his fist on the camp table. “Who in the fuck are you?”

Matt laughed. “The guy that’s gonna shoot you if you make another move like that.” He threw a length of paracord at Stubby. “Tie up your boss.”

Stubby looked confused for a moment then slowly rose with the cord in his hand.

Tate found the man called Arty still grunting with his bare ass glowing white in the light of the moon. Tate muffled a giggle as he farted and sighed. He belched as he got to his feet and pulled his pants up.

“Sounds to me like you have a digestive problem, there Arty.” Tate laughed softly as she made sure he saw the gun in her hand. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Arty jumped and stepped in the muddy pile at his feet. “Fuck!” He slid his foot across scrub grass trying to clean his boot. “Who in the hell are you?”

Tate answered. “Not a fan for sure.”

Arty reached for his handgun and Tate squeezed the trigger.

Stubby’s friend, with the key on the string around his neck, walked to the cage. “Time for a little fun, Red.”

The women in the cage backed away from the door, all but the two Matt had spoken with. They moved toward the door where Black Beard was inserting the key into the lock.

He glared at the dark haired woman. When she didn’t move, he pointed his gun at her. “Back off bitch!”

The black-haired woman hesitated. When Black Beard pointed raised his gun, Red slipped the knife from her left hand to her right behind her back.  She looked toward her friend. “I got this.”

“That’s right bitch. Red and I are going to do a little bump and grind.” The Beard answered as he grabbed himself. He stuck the key into the padlock and opened the door then stepped to the side.  He motioned with the tip of his handgun for her to climb out of the truck.

Red stepped to the door and jumped from the truck. She landed hard on the ground falling to her knees. She sat crumpled in the dirt while the big man snapped the lock hasp close again.

Black Beard grabbed at Red’s arm just as the sound of a shot echoed in the distance. He let the barrel of the gun lower and Red swung the blade in a wide arc. She stabbed into Black Beard’s protruding gut. He stumbled back staring down at the blade.

Red pulled the blade free and swiped it across his throat. He tried to raise his gun, but Red jerked it from his grip as he fell to the ground. She pulled the keys from his neck and threw them to the waiting hands reaching from the back of the truck.

“Get out of the truck. All of you.” She tossed the knife toward the truck. “Free the Doc and his wife. Stay together and hide until this is over.”

Matt heard the shot the same time as Stubby struck out with the length of cord in his hand. Matt pressed the trigger and sprayed a burst of bullets in Grant’s direction. Stubby tackled Matt and the pair went down in a crush of swinging fist and grunts of pain. Stubby was every bit as large a man as Matt. It was not going to be a quick overpowering of the man.

Stubby rolled and slammed his fist into the side of Matt’s head. Matt blocked a second blow and swung out with the butt of the rifle. The hard plastic connected with Morgan’s head. He fell back dazed.

Matt slammed the rifle at his head again, but Stubby rolled away just in time to avoid the blow. He swung out his leg and connected with Matt’s knee. Matt went down, rolled and kicked out. His boot heel connecting with Stubby’s face.

He fell back dazed. Matt picked up the rifle and pointed it at him. He shook his head, trying to focus.  Finally, he sat up staring at Matt.

“Move again, I’ll shoot you.”

When he was sure, Stubby would remain still Matt got to his feet. He picked up the rope and quickly tied Stubby’s hands behind his back. When he was secure, Matt stepped over the man’s bound legs and checked Grant. He was barely breathing. He had a bullet hole in his chest where bubbles of blood hissed with air.

Matt rose just as the tent flap flew open and Tate rushed in with a gun in hand. The two women from the truck followed her ready to rumble.

“Well, I guess we got this done,” Tate announced.

The dark-haired woman stomped over to Stubby and kicked him in the balls. He howled in pain, rolled over, curling his knees against his chest trying to protect his crotch against another assault.

“Pig!” She pulled her leg back to kick again but Red stopped her.

“That’s enough.” She grabbed the gun from the dark-haired woman. She pointed it at Stubby’s temple and fired before anyone could stop her.

“What the fuck!” Matt grabbed the handgun from Red.

“He killed my husband. He raped Theresa and two of the other women.” She answered.

Tate stepped up to Matt and placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back from the body. “I would have done the same. Let’s get out of here.”

She grabbed Red’s arm and led the two women out of the tent. Matt followed after a backward glance at the two bodies in the tent.

Outside, Doc and his wife and three children were huddled together still looking a bit like deer in headlights. Besides, Red and Theresa seven women and two more children stood waiting for someone to speak.

Tate looked at Matt. “We have sixteen people here. What are we going to do with ‘em?”

Matt nodded toward the vehicles. “We take ‘em back to the camp.”

Tate laughed. “You just the fucking Pied Piper, Monroe.”

Red and Tate went back for the white rig and the guns stowed inside. By the time they returned Matt had drivers and guards assigned to trucks. None of the women had options so they agreed with Matt’s plan. Amid the supplies, clothes were sorted and distributed to those in need.  All were fed.

They gathered the remaining supplies, but left the tent as it was. No one wanted to salvage anything from the men other than their weapons. Matt had retrieved the guns as they walked out of the tent.

Tate led the caravan away from the site of the carnage and toward sanctuary.

The Pied Piper- Part 1

Posted: May 23, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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Matt slipped back into the shadows. He lowered the body of the guard he had just killed to the ground. He retrieved the weapons and dragged the corpse behind a mound of rocks. He watched the pickup pull to the far side of the camp and park. He hoped Tate got Rodney secured and silenced as planned. If he didn’t fight back, Rodney might survive but, then what? What do I do with a man who took part in abducting and abusing women? Matt mentally shrugged, that decision would have to wait.

There were six men in camp according to Rodney. It sounded right with what Matt had seen. One guard down, five to go. Matt jogged into shadows around the back of the camp watching the two men standing at the edge of camp.

“I plan on getting to know that little red head tonight.” A big man with a thick black beard laughed.

The short guy retorted. “She’s a feisty bitch for sure. Think you can handle her?”

“Damned straight, Arty.” The beard laughed.

Arty laughed. “I gotta drop a load, so wait till I come back before you go courtin’, Josh. That bitch will take off your head if you try something without some backup.”

Matt watched a third guard near the truck where the women were held.  He decided he would be next neutralized.

The man walked from the front of the vehicle to the back. He glanced around the camp while he lit a cigarette. With the tip of the cigarette glowing red he paced to the front of the truck. He settled on the bumper smoking and stared out into the shadows.

Matt slipped to the side of the truck with the eyes of the women following him. He held his finger to his lips and crouched in the shadows of the truck and waited.

The guard rose and dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and smashed it into the dirt with his boot. He looked up at the women and slapped the screen. “What the fuck are you looking at, bitch?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” The red head snapped with a wicked grin.

The guard stepped to the back of the metal cage. Matt rose from the shadows and slit the guard’s throat. After a quick jab of the blade into his temple, he released the body and nudged it under the truck.

The red head rushed to the screen. “Help us!” She whispered. “Get us out of here.”

“Who has the key?” Matt slipped the guard’s handgun and knife through the bars into the cage. “Be damned careful who you shoot at with this. A friend of mine is out there. If you shoot her or me I’ll be pissed.”

“The big guy with the beard has the key.” She answered as she accepted the gun and knife. She passed the gun to another woman.

“Him and his friend will be coming to see you in a few minutes. See if you can get him to open the cage then kill them. I’m going after the last two.”

“I’ll take care of Black Beard.” The red head announced. “I want to be the one to kill him.”

“Who’s the boss and where is he?” Matt asked.

“He’s in the tent. His name is Gregory Grant. He’s always got a guy named Stubby with him.” Another woman answered. “There were only six left in camp until the truck came back.

“Don’t worry about the two in the truck. What about the old couple?” Matt asked.

“They’re keeping them alive because he’s a doctor. They’re being used to cook and take care of us. They won’t fight back because their grandkids are in here with us. Those assholes killed their folks.” The red head answered.

“That means there’s four left.” I’m going after the pair in the tent. If the other two come after you, kill them.”

The red head smiled. “We can take care of them.”

The woman with the black eye stepped closer. “Give me a chance and I’ll take care of Arty.” She hid the gun in the folds of her skirt.

Matt gave a quick nod and disappeared into the shadows again. He moved toward the tent until he heard the sound of angry voices. It came from the truck. A door slammed.

A man’s voiced cures. “Bitch!”

There was a muted thwack and then silence. Matt saw a single figure move into the shadows at the edge of camp. The slender figure reappeared heading toward the caged truck. Matt stepped back into the shadow of the truck and disappeared. I guess Rodney didn’t play nice.

Matt heard Tate’s footsteps before he saw her step into the moonlight. She startled when he appeared next to her.

“Rodney?” Matt whispered.

“He won’t trouble anyone else, again.” Tate whispered. “How many left?”

“Four. I’m going after two in the tent. There’s a big guy and a greasy little shit walked off that way to take a shit.” Matt whispered back as he pointed toward the back of the camp.

“I’ll find him.” Tate shrugged. Matt reached out, but Tate held up her hand. “I got this.”

Tate stepped into the brush heading toward the direction Matt had indicated the man had gone. She stopped and listened. Night sounds filled the evening. She moved slowly through the shadows created by the branches of the oaks overhead.

Matt slipped away from the truck, all the while watching the tent for the two survivalists described by the women. He took a quick survey of the camp then studied moved closer to the tents. From one he heard voices.

A gravely male voice ordered. “Take care of Doc and Granny. Make sure they’re chained to the car again. I don’t want them wandering around getting ideas.”

“They won’t. The kids are still locked in the truck.” A second male voice answered.

“I don’t care. I want ‘em secured.” The gruff voice ordered. “Have the rest of the men come back?”

“No. Not yet. Rodney said they picked up the soldier’s rig and were getting extra diesel from behind the shed.”

“Good. With the extra fuel we can make it to the camp by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll refuel then head out first thing in the morning. With this trip there’ll be enough women for a bit of comfort.” He laughed.

“Yes sir.” A second voice answered. “Moving the camp to the edge of Indian Springs was a good idea. If they’ve followed orders at campgrounds we’re set for the duration.”

“Duration, hell!” Grant answered. “Stubby, you don’t get it. It’s Armageddon. I’ve led the faithful into the Promised Land. We have thousands of acres fenced off and secured by the government. From the same fucks that wrought this plague on the good folks of Texas. It’s our duty to bring the weak and defenseless into the fold.”

“Yes sir.”

Matt reached for the flap of the tent with the automatic pointed at the two men sitting on camp chairs with a table and bottle between them in the room sized tent. “Keep your hands on the table, gentlemen.”

The Cabin – Part 2

Posted: May 19, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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Della hurried to the white fencing surrounding the paddock. She hid behind a post and studied the paddock and then the area around the outermost buildings. The horses must have heard her because they raced to the corner nearest the buildings. The wandering pair of monsters had noticed the movements and turned to head in their direction.

When the infected finished feeding on the bodies at the front of the paddock they would come for the rest. She had to move.

Della climbed over the white fencing and hurried across the open pasture toward the gate where the remaining horse gathered. She drew closer and the beautiful black and brown horses stamped and skittered away from her. They were terrified.

She glance toward the front of the pasture and realized the infected had lost interest in the remains of the dead and now where stumbling toward the remaining animals. The horses began prancing and charging toward the gate, then back toward the open paddock looking for escape.

Della stopped and whispered. “Whoa…it’s okay.” She cooed. The big black mare turned at the sound. Della kept whispering calming words and the mare separated from the group and nickered. The black took a step toward Della and she stopped. She held out her hand and the horse nuzzled her palm. The mare snorted.

“I’ll get you out of here. Just let me through girl.” She stepped forward and the black stepped to the side. Slowly Della made her way to the gate. She walked past the nervous animals with the black at her side.

Della stepped around a brown horse to the wooden gate and reached over the top to unhook the latch. She pulled the gate toward her and all but the black mare charged through almost trampling Della in the mad rush to escape.

She stumbled back against the gate and fell to her knees. An infected appeared from behind the spooked animals and reached toward Della. The black dashed forward and reared up. Her metal shoed hooves came down on the infected teen. The black reared again and again until the monster lay still.

Della pulled herself to her feet, retrieved the gun and looked at the remains of the infected. The black nudged her toward the gate. “Got it. Let’s go girl before the rest of those monsters get here.”

The horse and Della got through the gate and Della re-latched the gate. She grabbed a rope hanging from a fence post and looped it around the gate.

“Just in case the latch gives out.”

She turned from the fence and jogged to the barn door. She slowed and looked into the gloom. The building had a main passageway with horse stalls on either side opening toward the middle. While the rest of the horses raced through the corridor and disappeared behind the buildings, the black followed Della.

She approached the stables with a real sense of foreboding. It was dark inside. She was terrified at the thought of entering the stable but knew she had to find the veterinary supplies.

Finally, she squared her shoulders and walked into the gloom. She got to the first door and recognized it as a stall. She quickened her pace and hurried past five more, toward the opposite end of the building. Each dark opened gate terrified her but she moved through the building out into the barn yard beyond. The office wasn’t in the building. She walked out into the sun and looked from one side of the opened ground to the other.

The owner’s home was a white plantation style mansion with white pillars and a huge veranda circling the house. The gravel drive sat empty. The only evidence of something amiss was the front door standing open and a single shattered window glass.

Della glanced toward a building resembling a miniature of the stable facing the stable. Someone had been working at planting a flat of flowers around the front door. The half empty flat and tools lay at the side of the bed. Above the door, was a sign advertising the ranch office. Della glanced around the yard then jogged toward the office.

With the 9mm in hand she approached the building. Della could hear the mare walking close on her heels. Feeling paranoid Della looked from left to right and back again. When she glanced around looking for more infected, she realized the mare had been calm until she got near the office building.  Now the black shied away from the building and pranced back and forth nervously.

She stepped closer to the door and peeked through the window. Her breath caught in her throat. There was blood smeared on the inside of the glass door. A bloody handprint on the door handle spoke volumes. Now I know why the horse is upset.

“Shit!” She cursed as she stepped back and glanced around. She saw the hoe and reached out to wrap her hands around the handle. She slid the handgun into the bag over her shoulder and looked inside the window again. The monster inside was still looking out a back window. She could do this.  One quick swing of the hoe and the monster would no long be a problem.

The black horse reared up and screamed. Della turned. “Okay…I know. But I have to do this.  Be quiet!”

Just as she reached for the door again a bloodied body slammed against the glass. Della fell back and stumbled to the ground.  The infected man, dressed in a pair of bloody khaki pants and polo shirt, snarled and clawed from behind the glass.

“Now you’ve done it.”  Della scolded the black horse.

Della leaned against the hoe and watched the monster claw and scream in frustration too stupid to know as long as the door was closed it couldn’t get to the black horse. That was it…release the latch and the infected man’s weight would push open the door.

Della stepped out of sight while the black seemed to sense there was a plan in play.  She stomped the bare packed ground and whinnied.  The rest happened so quickly, Della had little time to even think about the danger.

With her back pressed against the wall, she reached over and depressed the latch, the infected it the door and it swung open.  Not expecting the freedom to reach his prey, the infected fell from the building.

Della raised the hoe and slammed it down as the monster’s head from behind.

The blade struck the skull and skid down the side of his head landing on the man’s shoulder with a snap of a collarbone. She jerked the hoe up again then slammed it down on his head with all her might. The man fell and she stumbled to her knees.

Before she could get to her feet the mare slammed her hooved into the mangled head. Terrified, Della quickly got to her feet and backed toward the building.

When the infected man remained still, the mare nickered and strolled up to Della for a nuzzled and pat on the nose.

Della pressed her face against the mare’s head and took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if this relationship is going to work out long term, but for now, we’re a team. Okay?”

The mare whinnied.

Della turned and walked toward the office.  She looked through the gore smeared door and into the room beyond. It seemed empty.  She grabbed the hoe and opened the door and stepped inside.

She walked around the office, opened the cabinets and found nothing useful. At the side of the office were two doors. A quick peek, verified one was a bathroom and the second a room with white cabinets, sink and table. A medical bag sat on the table. She opened the bag and after a quick perusal, she continued her search.

At one side of the room was a cabinet with a lock on the door. Della pulled a knife from the her bag. She jammed it in between the doors and popped the door open.

Inside was a variety of medical supplies including bottles of antibiotics, syringes, vials and a variety of medical dressings. Della swept supplies into the bag. When it was full, she filled her shoulder bag with bandages, take and sponges.  After a final glance around, she headed back out the door. When she got back in the office, she emptied the trash bag and stepped in the bathroom to retrieve all the toilet paper.

She’d made a haul, antibiotics for Steve and toilet paper for the outhouse.  All she had to do was get to the ATV and get back to the cabin.

The Cabin – Part 1

Posted: May 12, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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On the third morning after arriving at the cabin, Della woke with the rising sun sending shafts of light through the open window. She climbed down the ladder from the loft. Sleeping there had turned out more comfortable than she thought it would be. Opening two trap windows at the ends of the cabin allowed for a cooling cross breeze.

Millie fed kindling into the stove. When the heat from the few glowing coals caught the kindling, she added three small split pieces of wood. She set a kettle of water on the stove to boil and readied the last of her strips of willow bark to soak. She sliced Spam and laid it in a cast iron skillet to warm next to the kettle.

“He ain’t good.” Millie announced when Della drew close.

Della nodded. “I know. I’ve got to find him antibiotics.”

“I ‘member seein’ a horse ranch about ten miles back. It said thoroughbreds. A big operation could mean vet supplies. Vets use same medicine as people.” Millie answered.

“I remember. Behind the white fence was a sign advertising Quarter horses, I think.”

“It could be dangerous. It’s close to that last town we passed.” Darlene added.

Millie nodded. “We need that young man. He’s the one that knew to get us out of Utopia and has kept us alive. If he doesn’t get antibiotics he might just die.”

As if in agreement, Steve moaned softly from the bunk at the back of the room.

The three women sat down at the table speaking softly.

“I have to be the one to go.” Announced Della. “I’m the only one that can go.”

Darlene looked frightened. “You can’t go alone.”

“I have to. Zack needs to check the traps if we’re going to stay here long enough for Steve to get well. If something bad happens and you have to leave, Zack’s the only one that will be able to protect the rest of you. Steve is too sick.”

“She’s right.” Millie agreed. “We’ll send Zack to check the traps because he won’t want to let you go without him.”

“I’ll take the ATV we found in the shed and take one of the five gallon containers of gas so I have plenty of gas. Zack already checked it out and it runs. If I take it, you’ll still have transportation since Zack filled in the wash and the road is wide enough for the truck.” Della argued.

Darlene’s mouth turned down with concern. “I don’t like you going alone.”

Millie answered. “If we’re going to make it, we have to do for ourselves.. We have to stop depending on the menfolk to do ever’thing. The world has changed.”

“Maybe I could come.” Darlene volunteered.”

Della answered. “You’re the only one left to protect Penny, Millie and Steve while both of us are gone.”

They all turned at the sound of heavy footsteps coming into the house though the front door of the cabin.

“All’s quiet. Glad I won’t be working on that wash again today.” Zack noticed the women seated at the table and asked. “What’s going on? Is Steve any better?”

Millie answered. “About the same. You need to head out early to check traps today. I need willow bark to make more tea for Steve.”

“I can do that. I can check the traps and be back with the bark in a couple hours.” Zack announced. “If I can get some breakfast, I can leave right away.”

Millie stepped to the cabinet and pulled out a cloth wrapped loaf of bread. She cut a wedge and laid a single slice of warmed Spam on top. She handed him the sandwich and a bottle of water. “Off you go. Don’t forget your hatchet and that knife you found in the shed. Remember, pink bark and don’t take it from the same tree.”

Looking a little confused by being pushed out the back door, Zack accepted the offering and stepped outside. He threw a wave over his shoulder and called out. “Later, I guess.”

Della chuckled. “Now that was a bum-rush if I ever saw one.”

Millie grinned. “Boy was a bit heavy and that walking every morning is trimming him down real good. He’s turning into a nice lookin’ young man without all sittin’ around.”

Della shook her head chuckling. “You always get what you want, Millie?”

Millie answered. “I see what needs done and that man needs antibiotics or he ain’t gonna make it.”

Della glanced at her watch. “I need to get moving. It’s going to take thirty to forty-five minutes before I get to the ranch. Give me an hour to find what I need and then forty-five minutes to get back. I should be back before noon.”

Millie gave Della a hard look. “Stay away from people, a black gal on her own could find herself in trouble. Some people might try to take advantage.”

Darlene looked frightened. “I don’t like you doing this alone.”

“I’ve got the gun.” Della answered.

“Breakfast is ready.” Millie answered.

She set more bread and Spam on the table and the three women ate quickly. When they were finished, Millie handed Della a bag. “Got you a couple of those power bars and three bottles of water to take with you. You best be going. ‘Member what the boy said ‘bout that gas line being a problem.”

She and Darlene hurried to the shed and pushed ATV around the back of the cabin to the road. They pushed the vehicle down the road until they passed over the repaired wash and Della climbed on the tattered seat.

“Don’t forget the valve.”  Darlene commented.

“Got it.”  Della answered.

The machine had been used harshly over the years. The motor leaked gas somewhere so someone had added a shut off valve. They had mounted a rifle rack on the front and mounted an extended platform on the back.

“Are you sure about this?” Darlene asked.

“No. But I’ve got no choice. I’m not letting him die.” Della turned the key in the ATV and the motor roared to life. She clutched then kicked the machine into gear.

“Be careful.” Darlene called out as the ATV pulled away.

Della used the steep path to the blacktop to get familiar with riding the four-wheeled vehicle. She had ridden an ATV once, but it had been years ago. It short ride, since the guy she was dating didn’t care for the sideline. He lasted about as long as the ride.

When Della got to the blacktop she slowed the machine and looked both up and down the highway. There was a lot more cars than had been there when they last traveled the highway. She felt exposed and vulnerable when she pulled off the mountain road and onto the highway. She accelerated as she thought of Steve and the faint red lines spreading from the lesions on his left leg.

Della worried about a cluster of vehicles ahead.  She slowed as she approached the first vehicle. It had two flat tires on the driver’s side. She glanced through the open doors and was shocked to see evidence of a hasty exit. Suit cases had been thrown open and clothing left in a pile inside the vehicle. From what she could see, it was all adults clothing.

She stopped the machine and turned off the engine. Della glanced around and saw nothing to give a hint of where the occupants had gone. She decided to check it out since she was there.  She stuffed anything that looked useable and closed up the case.  She threw it into the carrier and lashed it down with a bungee cord.

When she was done, she stepped back on the ATV and cranked the engine.  She accelerated and the four-wheeler rolled forward. The next vehicle was disabled as well. Again she saw no one nor evidence of the occupants having been attacked by the infected.

Della dodged around two more stalled cars then accelerated down the open road.  The drive was almost pleasant with the wind on her face. Just as she got to the start of the white fencing she saw a terrible accident involving several vehicles locked together across the entrance to the ranch driveway. She stopped the ATV and pulled off the road into a small stand of bushes. Della turned off the key and the quiet was suddenly overwhelming.

She glanced from side to side try to assure herself she was alone. She took a deep breath trying to calm her racing heart and stepped off the four-wheeler. She picked up the small pack holding the handgun, water and protein bars. She pulled out the 9mm, released the magazine, checked the load, and slammed it back home.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” She whispered to herself.

She walked deeper into the woods at the side of the open paddock.  The ranch buildings were nearly half a mile from the entrance. A dozen infected fed on the carcasses of three horses. The pasture was a lethal prison for the half dozen or so horses left snorting and running from a couple monsters trying to catch them.

Della watched the horror in the quiet pasture for several minutes before she could drag up enough courage to move, she took a deep breath and stepped back into the shadows of the trees. She looked toward the stables in the distance. She could make her way toward the building and staying out of sight. She’d figure out how to cross the short expanse of pasture to the buildings when she got there, but for now she’d worry about getting there.

With a plan, she began jogging through the woods. Branches and briars whipped at her arms and legs. Devils Beggarticks, called stick-tights in Texas, clung to her pant legs, her shoes and the strings.

She came out of the woods a short distance from the stable and ranch buildings glanced back toward the feeding monsters. The surviving horses were all huddled together in front of her.  They stood trembling at the gate, eyes wild with terror. Where were the ranchers? Why were they not protecting the horses?

Witness The End

Posted: May 7, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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At dusk, the trio of boats neared the air force base still being pelted by rain. Brian slowed the trolling motor and waited for the other two boats to catch up. They pulled alongside and the occupants in the boats reached out to hold their boats against Brian’s.

Water pushed the boats downstream while mucky water splashed over the occupants from time to time. The roar of the rushing water muffled the sound of metal slapping against metal.

Leon yelled. “It’s getting rough out here.”

“The base is coming up.” Brian yelled back. “Stay close.”

“Wish we had a bigger boat. The runoff is filling the bayou and it’s getting deep and fast.” Miguel shouted. “A lot of debris is washing downstream.”

Brian yelled back. “Overpasses ahead so watch for the infected overhead and stay low. It’s going to be dangerous.” The boats banged and rocked against each other and Brian continued. “It’s going to be like running a gauntlet so watch it.  Let’s go!”

Everyone release the Jon boat and Brian made a slight adjustment to guide the craft to the center of the fast running water. He glanced over his shoulder to verify the others followed then focused on obstacles ahead.

Willow trees hung over the banks into the raging torrent. Ahead an overpass loomed as a dark shadow against the assaulting rain and fading light.

Brian ignored the huddled figure in the front of the boat. Dale had clutched the tarp over his head and around his shoulders and not moved after Brian’s last berating. He sat motionless as the boat slipped through the rushing water.

The flow of flood waters grew more violent with the narrowing of the. Brian looked toward the base and saw a burning plane at the end of the runway. Dozens of people ran toward a massive helicopter where the motor fought to turn the rotor blades faster and faster.

Men and women dodged slow lumbering infected as they ran toward the aircraft. A horde of infected stumbled through a breach in the hurricane fencing toward the last aircraft. Flashes of gunfire silhouetted soldiers protecting the loading ramp at the back of the massive machine. The whine of the rotors grew louder and more resolute. A group of civilians including women and children and soldier’s protecting them raced up the ramp with the last of the soldiers backing toward the incline.

By then gunfire was fully automatic with the flashes of lighting up the night. Soldiers fired into the horde as the ramp began to rise. The last three figures jumped to the incline but two lost their footing and fell to the tarmac. Before they could get to their feet, they were quickly overpowered by the horde.

The whine of the rotors grew in volume and became deafening. The helicopter began to rise as the horde swarmed the machine to cling to the wheel mounts and any part of the craft they could get a grip on. The craft rose a few feet, wobbled, leveled off then began to rise once more.

The infected clutched at the wheels, the rising ramp and anything else they could lay their hands on. The helicopter rose with dozens of bodies hanging from the underside. The craft tilted dragging the bodies clinging to the wheels across the fence.  Bodies fell from one side. The helicopter tilted then just as it raced toward a flood light lost more bodies from the opposite side and straightened. The craft rose higher and the moved across the tarmac with bodies falling as it sped away.

Brian watched as lights on the underside of the escaping aircraft illuminated the air strip. Screams of pain and terror could be heard beyond the fencing despite the pouring rain. People ran from the infected only to be surrounded and consumed. More of the horde spilled into the base from the breach in the fencing.

Slowly the Jon boats drifted by as the helicopter made a valiant upsurge to over a hundred feet then stalled and dove for the ground. The huge machine slammed into the tarmac. A massive explosion lit up the entire airfield. Flames blossomed into the air and a scorching wind ignited the clothes of the infected around the impact. The fire roared while metal shards rained down all around the base. Remains of the helicopter splashed into the bayou.

With each splash of debris in the water near the boats yelps of surprise could be heard from the occupants. Amid all the burning fuel beyond the fencing and the screams of the terrified dying, the infected ignored the drifting boats.

“Oh my God.” A female voice whimpered from the boat behind Brian.

He turned and called out. “Don’t look. Pay attention to the debris in the water. It’s getting narrow and there’s trouble ahead.”

The overpass Brian could see in the distance was built long before the current height guidelines. He could see the stumbling infected crossing the bridge that was going to provide less than six feet of clearance. The side rails were barely knee high. They stumbled toward the flames at the base ignoring the rapid flow of the creek. Suddenly a body stumbling close to the rail got jostled and tumbled over the edge into the water. The monster bobbed twice then sunk.

More and more of the infected stumbled onto the bridge only to be stopped by the mass of bodies pressed against the road block at the base entrance. More and more bodies pushed against the ones facing the pile of concrete barriers.

The pushing and jockeying of the infected to get into the base, resulted in more and more bodies tumbling over the side. One after another of the infected fell from the overpass. Some landed on the bank to roll down the bank while others struggled to their feet only to slip and fall again. Some slid down the steep bank and slipped into the fast flowing water.

The trio of boats continued their journey toward the overpass as more and more bodies stumbled toward the base. More bodies were knocked from the bridge. A few of the infected on the shore noticed the moving voices in the boats. They began reaching out ignoring the rising water at their feet.

Suddenly a loud crack behind the boats made Brian look over his shoulder. He turned in time to see a willow slowly dip and lean into the rushing water. The reedy flowing branches with their narrow leave were dragged further and further into the rushing water. Another crack of splintering wood and the tree collapsed into the torrent of storm water.

“Move it!” Brian yelled. “We have to get past the underpass before that branch or we’re trapped.”

Brian willed the trolling motor to accelerate but instead the boats were trapped in the sluggish water at the edge of the creek. He glanced over his shoulder and saw both Jon boats were plodding along at the same speed. The huge branch floated into the rushing torrent of water and raced toward of the boats.

A branch slammed into the Jon boat being run by Leon. Paula yelped and Leon reached out with the paddle and shoved the jagged truck of the tree away from the boat. The spreading limbs rolled and tossed in the rushing water.

The tree rolled again just as it got parallel to Juan and Billy’s boat. The toss of the limb sent a broken branch up and over catching the back of the boat and ripping the tarp covering Juan. He barked and pulled against the tarp but it was drawn from his grasp.

The tarp ballooned with rushing water and carried the tree down the creek past Brian and Dale. The trunk hit the center two supports, slid through half way and caught. Water rushed around on either side higher on the banks.

“The side! Go to the left.” Brian yelled over the raging torrent.

All three men guided the boats toward the far bank.  The small motors fought the current to push them from center of the rushing water way. Finally, they broke free and drifted toward the shore.

Brian pointed to the left of the branch blocking the main passageway. More and more trash caught in the branches and ballooning tarp caught under the overpass.

At the last minute, Brian guided the Jon boat at the left bank, letting the current push through the opening. There was enough room for the boat to slip under the overpass between the massive support and the grassy bank. He leaned into the boat as he realized just how close they would be to the concrete road support overhead. The boat made it under the overpass passing through an opening less than eight feet wide and barely four foot high.

“Watch out!” Brian yelled back at the others as a body fell from the overpass barely missing the back of his boat. He tried to hold the Jon boat in place to watch the others pass between the overpass supports and the shore but the current took him back toward the fast moving water.

Juan struggled to guide his boat with Billy and Margo toward the opening. From the front of the boat Billy scanned the infected. The infected on the shore turned and stumbled toward the incline at the sight of Juan. A massive monster stumbled down the bank and ended within a few feet of Margo.

Billy fired and the infected man’s head exploded. Billy dove for the bottom of the boat just in time to miss being brained by the concrete support under the road. The boat spilled through the opening.

Leon fought to maintain control of the boat as the rushing water pushed him back toward the middle of the creek. The tree was now a dam as it collected more and more debris. Water rushing around the blockage grew more turbulent and splashed over the sides of the boat. Paula huddled in the bottom of the boat whimpering.

Leon fell to his knees and aimed the boat for the narrowing gap. The craft slid under the overpass and cleared the concrete supports only to be clipped on the side by a falling body. The boat tilted and scooped water. While Paula fell forward over her pack, Leon face-planted against the middle seat nearly tipping the boat over. He lay still for a full minute while the boat drifted toward the center of the creek.

“Leon!” Juan yelled. “Get up!”

There was no way Brian or Juan could maneuver their boats to intercept Leon.

“Help! He’s dead!”

Paula sat up and began screaming. She began thrashing about and struggling to turn around as the boat drifted toward the shore.

Leon raised his head and shook it. He took a full three seconds to realize the fix they were in and pushed back into the seat and grabbed the control. He shoved the control to the side and boat pivoted back toward the center of the creek. He aimed for the other two boats.

No Replacement

Posted: April 30, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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Harry stepped through the front window of the sales offices. Glass crunched underfoot. He could hear excited whispers toward the back hall of the sales office part of the building. He glanced at the teller’s window and immediately saw the infected man was no longer trapped behind the glass.

“Shit!” Harry whispered. “John?”

“Back here. We got a problem. Come on back.” John answered.

Harry followed the sound of John’s voice into the dark recesses of the dealership building. When he got to the breakroom, he saw John standing over two bodies. One was the decaying man from the teller’s booth. The other was a stranger still moaning and writhing in pain. Squatting next to the dying man were two children. The man and both kids were malnourished and covered in grime. The taller of the two soon-to-be orphans looked to be a boy around fifteen while the younger was definitely preteen but too dirty to tell if it was a girl or boy.

“What the fuck is going on, here?” Harry demanded.

“They came in looking for food. When they didn’t find anything they tried to get the stuff in the booth. I got here in time to kill the infected, but not before he took a chunk outta the guy laying there.” John answered.

“Fuck!” Harry cursed.

The man on the floor waved his arm to move the children from his side. He pushed himself up and looked at both John and Harry. “Please, don’t hurt my kids.”

“No intentions of hurting your kids. What are you folks doing here?” Harry asked.

“Looking for food. What do you think, asshole?” The boy answered with a snarl.

The man grabbed his son’s leg. “Hush boy. Ain’t these men’s fault I got bit. It was mine.” He looked to Harry. “I’m Ben Green, this is by kids, Cody and Grace.”

“I’m Harry Walters, and this ugly old coot is John Tilman. I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, but like this. Well….”

“I know what’s gonna happen.” Jack answered. “Please. You gotta take the kids and get outta here. We’ve been running from a gang that found us two days ago. If they come here, they’ll kill you all.”

“Then we move out.” Harry responded.

“Take my kids.” Ben pleaded. “Please. Just leave me and take my kids. You’ve gotta hurry.”

“We’ll go, but we’re taking all of you. Come on John.” Harry stepped to Ben’s side and grabbed under Ben’s arm. John followed suite. “Let’s move out.

Ben tried to pull away, but Harry and John only pulled him forward.

“I’m gonna turn.”  Ben protested.

Harry whispered at him. “Might be, but I won’t have your kids fighting us to stay with you.  We need to move out and be quiet about it.”

Ben relented and allowed himself to be carried through the hall toward the broken window. They stepped out into the dawning light to the sound of motors in the distance.

Harry turned around and called back when the kids hesitated. “Let’s go, you two. We have to get outta here.”

Ben called back. “Listen to what they say, from now on.”

Both Cody and Trace picked up the pace and followed close behind. The sound of the vehicles approaching grew louder.

“They’re coming!” Ben warned. “Leave me. Run!”

Harry waved an arm and suddenly the camper at the back of the lot roared to life. “Keep moving!”

Liz cranked the engine and slammed the camper in gear at the sight of Harry’s wave. He and John were carrying a man while two children were following close behind. She pulled out of the parking spaced turning toward the fence, slammed on the breaks then slipped the gear shift into reverse. She stepped on the gas and the camper began rolling backwards toward the Harry and John. She accelerated until the camper began weaving, she slowed enough to guide the vehicle toward the men.

The two men pulled Ben to the side of the drive and called the kids to them. Liz stopped in front of the group, slammed the shift into park. John jerked open the door. He let Harry step inside then pushed Ben and the kids in behind him.

“Hit the gas and go through the fence. Take the ditch at an angle. Wait ten minute down the road half a mile. If I don’t make it by then, leave without me.”

Liz opened her mouth to protest, but John scowled. “Got it. Don’t be late old man!”

John ran to a blue camper, used a key to open a door and climb inside. He cranked the engine and revved the engine, waiting.

Liz stepped on the gas and aimed the camper between the posts where the fence sagged. Harry dropped Ben at the table and pointed the kids toward the opposite side. He threw a towel at Ben. “Stop the bleeding, sit down, and shut up until we get outa this mess you brought to our door step.” He growled.

Harry flopped into the passenger seat and belted in. He pointed toward the back of the property. “Ease up on the gas right before you hit the fence. It’ll knock the support off the top of the post. Angle to the left crossing the easement and hopefully, there won’t be water in the ditch and we get stuck. When you get up on the road, go left.”

Liz hit the fence with the front bumper and the zip ties split.  The front windshield frame hit the pipe at the top was thrown to the side while a crack raced across the glass. The front end of the camper dipped then bounced up the incline to the asphalt. The back tilted and bucked then bounced on the roadway. Liz pushed her foot down on the accelerator and looked back toward the parking lot just in time to see the blue camper pull out and accelerate toward the fence.

John opened both side windows and pulled the seat belt tight. He jammed his foot into the accelerator. The engine revved and the machine accelerated as it raced toward the open fence. He waited until the very last moment and then spun the steering wheel hard to the left just as he got twenty feet from the open fence.

The blue camper skidded and tilted while John held the wheel. The top heavy vehicle hung at a forty-five degree angle for a heartbeat then faltered and tumbled to its side. The vehicle slid the last ten feet into the gaping hole in the fence.

John struggled to fight the blackness that threatened to envelope him.  Finally it faded and he opened his eyes.  Still was held in the seat.  He groaned at the pain the seat belt was causing to his damaged ribs. He turned off the engine and released the seatbelt.  He slid off the seat and fell to the side window. He pocketed the key and stood up. He grunted in pain as he twisted his body to reach toward the open window overhead.

“That wasn’t such a good idea. John mumbled to himself.

He stepped on the console between the front seats and pulled himself up toward the window. When he got his hands on the window sill, he pulled himself up and through the opening. He looked back to the gate at the opposite end of the lot and saw the first vehicle, a massive truck with cobbled together grill across the front, slamming through the chained gate.

John climbed down the underside of the camper and fell into the dry ditch with a gasp of pain. He clutched at his ribs and crawled to the road. He got to his feet and hurried away from the camper.

John heard the first gunshot and turned to see two men standing at the side of the fence with guns pointed in his direction.  They fired two more shots.  Both danced off the asphalt at his feet.  He cursed and pushed himself into an ungainly lope.

He rounded the bend in the road to the sound of cursing and screams of frustration.

Ambush – Part 2

Posted: April 26, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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The second man rose to follow but found Matt rushing toward him. In a flash, he swung out his left leg and connected with Matt’s side. Matt doubled over, spun and kicked out himself. His foot connected with the man’s leg and the man went down. He tucked his body and rolled away coming up with his handgun in his hand. As he brought the barrel to aim, a shot rang out.

Matt saw a flash from the hay bale and threw up his hand in a careless wave. He hunkered down ready to follow the last man when three more shots rang out in the distance.

Snorts and stomping hooves filled the night. The sound of a thundering stampede of hooves filled the night. Another terrified scream was suddenly muffled by the sound of the charging buffalo.

Matt reached the corner of the shed and looked around in time to see a man disappear under the mass of moving bodies. The herd trampled over the ground where the man had been standing. The herd in mass, ran past the building, made a wide arc and moved off into the distance.

When the sound of the herd disappeared, Matt made his way to where the man had disappeared amid the stampede. There was little left of him. The chest was crushed, while the man’s arms and legs were broken and bent in odd angles.

Matt turned toward the hay bales and double clicked his LED light. Tate blinked her light back. Matt watched as a slender shadow appeared from the top of hay. She looked toward the retreating herd one last time then slid down the side of the bale.  She began making her way toward the light then stopped at the body of the man she had shot. The bullet had gone into the middle of the chest and blown out the back of his spine.

When Matt approached, she asked. “Well, did we kill ‘em all?”

Matt answered. “Except for one, I left strung up a ways back.”

Tate looked at the body on the ground. The lower jaw had begun to work spastically. “Now that’s fucked up.”

Matt squatted down next to the body to get a better look. “I thought it took a bite or blood to get the virus.”

Tate let out a long breath and whispered. “You know what that means?”

Matt looked confused. “Not exactly, no.”

Tate gagged. “It’s air born. The virus has mutated and we’re all going to come back.” She leaned over with her hand on her knees taking deep breaths fighting the clinching of her stomach. She could feel the nausea begin to fade. “The world is fucked.”

“Looks like it.” Matt pulled his blade and slid the ten inch steel into the attacker’s eye socket and twisted. “Let’s go talk to a man about those women and kids.”

As Matt led Tate to the man hanging from the oak limb, he retrieved the weapons he had hidden. He only bothered with the handgun from the trampled man. The rifle barrel had bent under hooves of the herd.

When they got to the oak tree, Tate gasped when she saw a man swinging from the oak limb. The whites of his eyes glowed in the shadows of the night. He was terrified. Matt got to his side and untied the bandana and pulled the end of the rag from the man’s mouth.

“Talk.” Matt ordered.

The man moaned. “I can’t feel my hands. Cut me down.”

Tate walked up and slapped the man’s face. “Quit whining. Now tell us about the women in the cage, asshole.”

The man looked panicked. “They’re for the camp. We were alone. Jed said we needed women. It’s his place.”

Matt stood back and folded his arms across his chest.  Tate leaned closer with an angry scowl.  “What kind of place?”

“Camp.  He’s a survivalist sort of.  We went out to shoot guns and had a couple whores….”  His voice trailed off when he noticed the look on Tate’s face.

She slammed her fist into the man’s gut. “You fuckers kidnapped ‘em?”

“Well?” The man began, but Matt grabbed his face in a vice-like grip. “You’re going to tell us all about the camp. How many men are went on this little kidnapping raid and who’s in charge? Where they’re camped, now.” He leaned close and spoke softer yet. “If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll slit you open and leave you tied to a tree with your own guts.”

The man nodded his head. “I’ll tell you!”

An hour later, Tate, Matt and Rodney, the kidnapper, were headed back to the camp where the women were being held. Rodney drove, Tate sat next to him in the truck cab with a gun pressed into his rib. Matt stood in the truck bed with his boonie hat pulled down over his face.

“Make this good or I’ll start shooting and you’ll be the first one I take out.” Tate ordered.

Matt studied the camp as they approached. The only people they had to watch for were an elderly couple that had been in the Oldsmobile. Their daughter and two grandkids were in the cage so easily controlled.

Six survivalists remained in camp to control the old couple and the caged women. Rodney slowed when he neared the camp and saw the first guard. Matt slipped from the back of the truck.

“Don’t do anything stupid and you might live through this.” Tate advised in an angry whisper.

“Sammy? That you?” Rodney asked as he neared a man standing guard at the entrance of a farmhouse driveway.

“Sure is. Where’s the rest of the men?” Sammy asked.

“Bringing up the big truck soon as they syphon diesel from another truck. They’ll catch up soon enough.” Rodney glanced toward Tate.

“Good deal. We need all the fuel we can get.” Sammy laughed. “Head on in. Cows are fed and it’s almost time to check out one or two.” He laughed wickedly.

Tate jammed the gun in Rodney’s rib. “Move out, she hissed.

Rodney pulled away. Tate glanced back and saw a shadow swallow Sammy in a deadly embrace.

Ambush

Posted: April 22, 2016 in Book I Terror in Texas
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Matt hurried after the two men sent into the woods. After a five minute sprint through the dark, he heard them. Slowly, he advanced. He saw their silhouettes against the fading night sky. They carried rifles held to their shoulders, fanning the barrel back and forth as if monsters would jump from every shadow. They drew close to a massive stand of mesquite.

Matt grinned. HE was the monster, they were expecting. He slipped deeper into the gloom of the mesquite bushes and picked up a rock. He glanced at the pair then tossed the stone to the opposite side of the pair. Both men stopped, frozen in place.

After a brief whispering conference, one of the men headed toward the sound where the rock had landed. The second man stood still waiting for his companion to check out the noise. His hands trembled holding the rifle as he moved his weapon covering his cohort.

Matt stepped back into the shadows. It took several seconds to circle to the back of the cluster of mesquite. He stood so close to the man’s side he could hear the man’s raspy breathing. Matt side-stepped behind him, pulled his head up, and drove the blade up into the flesh under the man’s chin. He pulled the inch blade free.

Without a sound, the man relaxed against Matt’s chest. Matt grabbed the rifle strap before the weapon could fall from his fingers. He pulled the body back into the brush and slowly eased it down into the dirt. He placed his foot on the dead man’s back and rolled him under the brush.

Footsteps in the dark alerted Matt of the second man’s approach. Matt stepped behind a forked cedar as he listened to the man draw closer.

An aggravated whisper called out. “Asshole, where the fuck are you?  Get over here!”

Matt whispered. “Help me.”

“Where are you?” The man stopped and whispered back.

“Here.” Matt whispered.

The man took a tentative step forward, then another and another. Suddenly Matt slammed the butt of the confiscated rifle in the man’s head. The man went down without a sound out cold. Matt took less than a minute to string the man up under a massive oak limb with a length of cord. The man’s feet dangled inches from the ground when Matt was done.

After taking a few seconds to search the man’s pockets, Matt fished out a used handkerchief. He shoved it in the man’s mouth, pulled a second from his own pocket and forced it into the man’s open mouth and tied it behind his head. He gave the man a shove and walked away. He picked up both rifles and handguns. He slid them under the brush where he’d left the other man’s body.

Matt glanced toward the road and realized he was less than a quarter mile from the shack. The moon was up full and bright. He sprinted after the two men sent to circle around the front of the shed.

Tate lay out on the hay bale nearly forty feet from the corner of the shed. She could see the hint of light from the lantern inside through the weathered boards. She had a clear view from the roadway to the pasture behind the shed. She kept her eyes moving, examining every shadow, looking for movement from the road to the woods.

Suddenly she noticed half a dozen dark shapes appear from the woods to lumber across the pasture toward the shed. Tate watched the four legged, short-horned, thick bodies plod toward a water tank. She heard a nearby snort and realized another dozen animals rounded the hay bales heading off to meet the rest of the herd.

She studied the shapes and decided they were buffalo, not cattle. She knew of a couple ranches in the Hill Country supplied buffalo meat to specialty restaurants in Houston and Austin. This could be one of them. Getting back to the truck might be interesting with a herd of buffalo to avoid. They were unpredictable and would kill if they felt threatened.

Tate saw a sudden glint of light from the road. She squinted and made out two bent shadows rushing across the blacktop.

Tate followed the moving silhouettes with the rifle scope as they sprinted toward the shed. The men made it across the open road and squatted at the corner of the fence pointing rifles toward the shed. After a full minute, one of the men rose, rushed to the corner and disappeared into the shadows.

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