He lifted the liquor bottle to his mouth and took a long pull from it. He held some in his mouth, to keep his tongue moist, then tried again to speak. The sound reminded him of a barking bullfrog.
Simon dropped the bottle and sighed heavily. He stared at the pistol in his hand and slowly lifted it to his temple. Fuck all you mothafuckers. I’ll see you in Hell.
Chapter 2
Hatcher climbed to the tower and pulled his radio. “Maintain your lines of sight. Drop the lead Zulus!” He watched as the thin crowd of infected hesitated near cover before darting toward the fences. Well-placed shots stopped the few who dared to attack while the main body remained in the shadows, looking for an avenue that didn’t include a hot lead injection.
“They’ve gotten smarter.”
Hatcher turned and raised a brow at the sentry standing next to him. “Funny how survival skills remain when the rest of the mind is gone.”
The man cracked a smile. “Is it all gone? Really?” He pointed to the RV parked alongside the exterior fence. “Do you think that little girl has lost her mind?”
Hatcher inhaled to reply then caught himself. Slowly he shook his head. “I think she’s the exception, not the norm.”
“I think they’re changing. Evolving.” He shrugged. “Something.” He sighed and leaned against the rail as the sporadic shooting continued. “Used to be, they’d launch a full scale attack and not care who might die.”
“Not anymore.” Hatcher lifted the binoculars again and peered toward the headlights. “I’ll admit that they appear to be learning. But I still think it’s more a survival instinct than anything else.”
“If you ask me—”
Hatcher held a hand up to stop him. “I got a bead on Buck.” He pointed towards the lone light across the empty grassland. “He’s closing on that shit Simon.”
The sentry grunted. “If he ain’t already dead, I hope the kid sends him to that great sewer in the sky.” He raised a brow at Hatcher. “That’s where all turds go when they die, right?”
Hatcher watched as Buck crouched low and duckwalked toward the front of the vehicle. The kid pressed himself to the front of the truck and edged toward the driver’s side. Slowly he came to a standing position and rounded the open door of the truck. Hatcher held his breath as he watched Buck slowly lift his pistol and point it. Hatcher waited, knowing that the end of that pistol was about to belch fire.
Buck slowly lowered the weapon and turned back toward the compound. He made a dead run for the front gates and Hatcher stared in confusion for a moment. “I’m guessing Simon was already dead.” He moved toward the short run of steps and reached for the ladder. “Eyes open. Keep alert.” He pointed at the sentry. “You’re our eyes up here. Keep everybody on their toes.”
“You know I will, boss.”
Hatcher disappeared down the ladder and the sentry caught him in his peripheral vision as he darted toward the main entrance.
Hatcher slid to a stop at the wrought iron gates and pushed them open just as Buck appeared from the din and slowed his run, stomping his feet as he applied his brakes. “He was already dead?”
Buck shook his head as he gulped air. “As good as.” He bent over for a moment then walked in a slow circle, his hand pressed to his side. “I haven’t run like that in…”
“Simon!” Hatcher grabbed him by the shirt and spun him around a bit too forcefully. “What do you mean ‘as good as’?”
Buck held a hand up. “He was bit. There was a dead Zulu beside the truck.” His eyes met Hatcher’s gaze and he gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He might survive the bite, but he won’t survive the change.”
Hatcher stepped back and eyed Buck angrily. “The man is a cockroach! If there’s a way to survive, he’ll find it.”
Buck shook his head. “He was already losing his mind. He was pressing a pistol to his head and when he noticed me holding the gun on him. Bastard lifted a whiskey bottle and shook it at me.” Hatcher gave him a confused look. “He was trying to shoot me with the liquor bottle.”
Hatcher slowly released his breath and nodded. “Sounds like he’s done for.” He looked up at Buck and narrowed his gaze. “Why not just put him down?”
Buck shrugged. “Why waste the bullet? He’s a goner.”
Broussard cupped his hands to the window then tried the car door. It pulled open with a slight creak and he adjusted the seat further back to fit his oversized frame, grimacing slightly when the steering wheel rubbed across his stomach. He sighed then twisted the key, smiling as the engine spun over and barked to life. “Eureka!”
He watched the passenger door pull open and Carol slip into the passenger seat. “Let’s beat it. I want to put as much distance as I can between us and that soldier.”
Broussard’s radio crackled with a garbled message and he tossed it to her lap. “I can’t believe we’re out of range, but keep listening just in case.”
“It’s probably these buildings; huge steel barriers. We’ll be lucky to get anything through.”
“Military radios shouldn’t have a problem in an urban environment.” He pulled the gear selector to D and pressed the gas pedal, putting the little econocar into motion. “Any idea where we are going?”
“Just follow the coast.” She pointed to their left. “I’m pretty sure there’s a highway that hugs the waterline.” She gave him a doubtful smile. “Or, there should be anyway.”
Broussard turned left onto the next street. He had to slow the car as more infected shambled up the hill, their faces turned to the north. None seemed to pay them any attention as they rolled past.
“Thank god for small favors,”
