Bob didn’t try to miss him when he charged the car, and the sickening thud of the impact, in addition to the resulting broken rear glass, only obscured his view more as the infected screamer bounced up and rolled over the vehicle to collapse on the roadway in front of him. Bob slammed on the brakes when he couldn’t see out of the rear window anymore and clutched at the steering wheel, his breathing coming in short, panting breaths.
He tried to see out of the side mirror on the driver’s door, but it was simply too small and restricting to navigate the car backward up the winding road. He sat for a moment longer in the car, contemplating his options. Slowly, he reached for the door handle and opened the door just a little. He craned his neck as much as he could and saw the legs of the man he’d just hit lying on the ground in front of him. The only sound he could hear at the moment was the purr of the German-made engine as it ran directly in front of him.
Tentatively, he stepped from the car and struggled to stand. He kept the majority of his body still in the car and leaned forward. The zombie’s head lay in a pool of blood, one arm twisted at an irregular angle, one leg had a bone sticking out of it. Bob shuddered at the thought he had done that simply by backing into him. Of course, the fact that the man was running toward him full-tilt, may have played a small part.
Bob stepped from the little car and looked behind him. Car after car lined both sides of the road with no obvious wide spot to turn around and no openings for him to get out. He tried to spot another small car that he might be able to push out of the way, but even in today’s economy of horrendous gas prices, Americans still loved their SUVs and huge luxury cars. What he wouldn’t give to find a light weight machine parked out here, like a Prius or a Smart Car or…the motorcycle!
Bob strained his brain to try to remember how far back down the road it was. Surely it wasn’t that far…he remembered spotting it and wishing he could be riding it. Shortly after that, this dumbass tried to tackle the car, then he nearly ran into the roadblock. Bob looked around the area until he found a rock.
He began beating out the rear window. The only way to see would be to remove the shattered glass. Then he could try to back up the road to the bike, push it out of the way, and drive outside the line of cars.
That is, if he didn’t run into any more screaming zombies.
Mitch stared at Maggie as she spoke, the .45 in her hand flashing in his eye. His mind raced as he pictured her leveling the weapon and possibly even firing it at him. So many possible scenarios played out in his mind in the blink of an eye. Her holding them at bay until armed troops came in and secured them. Her simply shooting them where they stood and declaring her allegiance to the oath she swore. Or she could play on his own sense of allegiance and try to have him turn over his own weapon, perhaps turn sides and assist them in whatever sideways plan they had up their collective sleeve. In that brief moment that Mitch’s eyes settled on her service weapon, he recalled all the times she had acted as the handler for him and his team of misfit commandos. In that brief moment, he thought he could feel his heart breaking.
Maggie stared at him briefly before she bent down and slid her pistol across the floor to him. “I can’t be a part of whatever you’re about to do.”
Mitch was frozen in place as he watched the 1911 slide across the polished floor and settle just inches from his booted feet. He lifted his eyes to her and shook his head. “Why not? You said you were questioning all this.”
“If I assist you, it would be akin to treason,” she answered. “I’m many things, Richardson. But I’m not a traitor.”
“You’re not bound to following unlawful orders, Major. You know that,” Mitch all but begged her to join their side.
“I’m not going to stop you, Staff Sergeant,” Major Chappell replied. “I just can’t be a part of this.” She cast a glance out the window and slipped back toward the office, letting the door shield her. “Besides, it doesn’t look like he’s heading back this way. I think that squirmy captain got his hooks into him.”
“What squirmy captain?” Mitch leaned toward a window and tilted his head over to peek outside.
“The one that is wanting to do the experiments on the healthy survivors. The man gives me the creeps. He has eyes like a shark.”
“I know the type.” Mitch nodded.
“Sounds like a politician,” Hatcher added.
Maggie smirked. “Very much so. Like there’s no soul behind them.”
“Yup.” Hatcher turned to Mitch. “Definitely a politician.”
Mitch sighed and checked over his shoulder toward the rear of the building. “Y’all doing okay back there?” he asked Candy.
“We can wait as long as you need us to.” She held a child in each arm and shielded them from the front of the room.
“Then I say we maintain position and wait for the colonel to return,” Mitch said.
Hatcher stole a glance out the window again. “Might as well. We can’t dance.”
“Speak for
