“Do not start!” she said, pointing her finger at her brother.
Kong came back a moment later. “We have a truck stuck in the only approach a vehicle can make. They had it booby-trapped so when three of my men went up to hook up a tow cable it went off. They were killed instantly… plus the original driver.”
“Have my zombies made progress?” Eliza asked.
“Their fence is holding so far. Doesn’t make much sense, it’s only a chain link fence and it has extra supports, but still with as much push as the zombies should be giving it. It should have buckled by now. And what makes it weirder is the zombies up towards the front are not really doing anything, they just kind of stand there,” Kong finished.
Tomas had an idea of what might be going on. His sister looked completely befuddled and he decided to not tell her.
“We can make it more difficult on these people,” Kong stated.
“I’m listening,” Eliza told him.
“We can station men in the woods and shoot back. Maybe we kill some of them…at the very least we can keep them off that wraparound deck. We have more options if they’re not cutting down your zombies at the rate they are now. And a few of the driver’s are prior military, we could probably assemble some sort of strike team when they’re all huddled inside.”
“I would like at least some of them taken alive,” Eliza intoned.
“Of course,” Kong said, leaving to get some planning done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Mike Journal Entry 13
According to the mile markers, we had walked ten miles and where getting pretty close to the 495 and 95 interchange. Our traveling was getting slower and slower; Azile was having great difficulty walking under such a heavy load. Every time she lagged behind, I would take more equipment from her even as she protested that she needed to do her part. By the time we hit ten miles, the only thing left to carry would have been her.
“Someone’s coming,” Azile said as she stood back up. She had been sitting by the side of the road with her shoes off tenderly rubbing around her sore spots. “Hide?” she asked me when she realized I wasn’t moving.
Normally that would have been standard operating procedure, but we hadn’t encountered so much as a scooter. We were traveling at a whopping ten miles per half day, and at this rate, we’d get to Maine and it’d be winter and I had no desire to revisit sled travel. “Hold still, but get ready to move.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Better than most,” I told her. My heart thudded a little heavier when I saw that big rig crest over the top of a small rise.
“It’s a truck, Mike,” Azile said, looking over towards the trees.
“Hold steady,” I told her, the trucker had already seen us. He flashed his lights, if we bolted now it would look mighty suspicious, although ‘suspected’ is better than dead. Now I was looking over at the tree line.
The truck was slowing as it approached. It stopped about twenty feet away. “That rig back there yours?” he shouted, sticking his head out from the window.
“Hers!” I pointed to Azile. She did not look pleased that I had singled her out.
“Run into a bit of trouble?” the trucker asked.
“Flat tire,” I told him.
“Is that right?” he asked back.
“We’re running late for an appointment, is there any chance you could help us out?” Azile asked.
The driver switched his gaze from me to Azile, but keeping me in his periphery due to all the weaponry I was carrying. “That’s funny ‘cause I’m a little late, too…had some truck trouble and had to stop and get a quick fix on.”
I watched as recognition lit the man’s face up. “Well fancy that, I have an engagement in Maine also. I just need to make sure we’re playing for the same team, you can never be too careful.”
“Never too careful,” I reiterated when I saw the barrel of his rifle resting on his dashboard.
“We had a shipment of guns and food,” Azile said. “Kong gave us directions to a place in Maine where we were supposed to deliver them. If I don’t at least show up and tell him what happened he’ll think I stole the stuff.”
The man’s face softened when he heard Kong’s name. “Kong isn’t the most forgiving man, are you sure you don’t want to just start walking the other way?” The driver asked.
“I’m his niece,” Azile said, “he might be mad but he’ll understand.”
“What about him?” the driver asked.
“He’s my porter.”
“Funny,” I said under my breath.
“Come on, you both can tell me what happened when you get up here,” the driver said as he reached over and opened his passenger door.
A large orange tabby was staring me straight in the face as I went to climb into the rig.
“Oh, don’t mind him, I picked him up back in North Carolina. He was just wandering around. He climbed up into the truck and now he’s convinced he owns the place,” the driver said, smiling as he reached under and picked the cat up.
The cat hissed violently as he did so, but it was looking squarely at me. The cat remembered me.
“Take a little longer,” Azile said as she brushed past.
“Can we put some of the rifles in the back?” I asked the driver.
He looked at me strangely. “You may have been carrying food and weapons, not me.”
Then I realized it, his trailer was jammed full of zombies. “Yeah, I’ll just hold on to them,” I told him as I handed the weapons up to Azile, truly hoping that one would accidently discharge and take out the damn cat.
“My name is Jake Fitzgerald, most folks just call me Fritz,” he said, extending his hand.
I nearly froze, remembering the last person I’d known with the same moniker. I recovered smoothly enough, I hoped. I wasn’t an actor. “Mike, Mike Tal...isman.” I was figuratively fist-palming my forehead. I had nearly given the man my true name.
I could see Azile’s slight head shake as she realized what I had nearly done. Fritz hadn’t seemed to catch my error as he was getting the truck rolling. “Nice to meet you, Mike, it’ll be great to have some company. What happened to your rig?” Fritz asked, looking into the back where the sleeper was.
“Someone was shooting at us, must have hit a fuel line. They took off once we started returning fire,” Azile replied, trying to be as least descriptive as possible.
“Man, looks more like a bomb went off,” Fritzy laughed.
“You’d think,” I half laughed, keeping an eye on him to see if he was fishing or not. He didn’t seem to be.
“Have you tried this little vial thing out yet?” he asked as he pulled a small bottle wrapped in an ornate piece of silver jewelry out to show us.
I clutched my shirt as if I had one underneath. “Not yet. Not sure I want to, either,” I told him.
“I get you, I mean the only way you could, would entail being face-to-face with a zombie and I don’t want to do that. Already been close enough a few times, no desire to do it anymore and willingly. Besides, Kong said he tested it and it worked, his word is good enough for me. And if it does work it’s worth what we’re going to do.”
“Do you even know?” I asked him.
