Vickers paused and glanced at Hatcher. “Richardson?” He sat up in the chair, balls of tape still in his hand. “Large black man? Staff sergeant, I believe. I think I remember him.” He tilted his head and nodded slightly. “Yes. I believe he was with Alpha Company. Second Battalion, Fifth Group out of Fort Campbell.”
“He was my friend,” Hatcher replied softly.
Vickers stared at him for a moment and nodded slightly, “You’re a better man having known him.”
Hatcher didn’t know why, but it angered him just having Vickers mention him. If he knew Mitch, why didn’t Mitch say anything about knowing Vickers? Maybe Mitch didn’t remember him? Maybe Vickers was one of those paper pushers who simply sent men off on missions, never expecting them to return? Maybe Mitch was one of those men who returned when he wasn’t supposed to? Whatever the situation, he really didn’t want Vickers talking about him anymore.
He was just about to warn the man off when Candy rounded the corner, her eyes wide. “Hatch. We have a problem.” Her face was pale and her hands were trembling.
Hatcher knew that whatever the problem was, it had to be bad. He took off after her and when he came around to the back of the center, he saw Maggie standing over Mitch’s body, shaking her head. The problem, though, was obvious. The back door was standing wide open. “Who…” Hatcher began.
“Buck is gone,” Candy said.
The blood in Bill’s veins froze when the words flowed from little Jason’s lips. “Watch out for the Army mans,” he warned. “They bite.”
He felt his guts twist and his asshole tightened as the words hit his ears. He simply looked into those little eyes and nodded, a lopsided grin crossing his face. “No worries, squirt,” Bill said. “I’ll keep an eye out for them.”
He slid out of the truck and his eyes darted everywhere. Richard ran to the Hummer parked in front of them and pulled the door open. “No keys.”
“Hop in and put it in neutral,” Bill said. “We’ll push it out of the way.”
Richard climbed into the truck and began looking around the spartan interior. He couldn’t even find a place to put a key, much less…a scream echoed off the rock wall next to the highway and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Richard looked up through the dirty windshield and saw Bill scrambling to get back into the truck. He pulled it up to the front bumper of the Humvee and began pushing the massive truck backward.
Richard held the clutch in and steered the massive truck as best he could. It was nearly impossible at such slow speed and fighting the huge tires. As the Humvee rolled back far enough that the pickup could pass, something solid hit the side of the military vehicle and Richard screamed. Something outside the truck screeched a reply and a bloody face appeared at the window of his door.
Richard scrambled over the transmission tunnel and was trying to open the other door when another face appeared at that window, bloody hands leaving smears across the glass. He looked up through the windshield and saw Bill quickly backing up, away from the Humvee, a zombie in a soldier’s uniform giving chase.
At first, Richard was angry and panicked that Bill could leave him there, abandon him to these…these things. Then he saw the little head in the middle of the cab and he realized, he would do the same thing if it meant saving his grandson.
The zombies outside began beating on the glass, trying their best to break their way into the metal can of lunch. Bill looked around the interior in a panic. Like a fool, he had left his pistol in the pickup. All he had on him was a knife. He slumped back in the seat and looked up to the ceiling to pray, the canvas top of the Humvee flapping lightly in the breeze.
Richard’s heart doubled in rate as he realized that the zombies could tear right through the canvas. But then he realized, so could he. He pulled his hunting knife out and cut a slit in the middle of the top, then stood on the transmission tunnel and slid through the slice in the canvas. He could see Bill up ahead on the road coming back in his direction.
Richard pulled himself through the canvas and dragged himself across the top of the Humvee, the zombies outside jumping and reaching for him every inch of the way. Doing his best to balance himself on the soft canvas top, he waved at Bill while trying to keep the zombies attention on the blocked side of the Hummer.
He stood on the edge of the truck and screamed at the creatures, “Old man Manwich, right here! Come and get it, you big, ugly sons of bitches!” Richard kept stealing glances up the road and waving with his arms, motioning Bill to bring the truck up along the side of the Humvee. “Stay over on this side, you bloody bastards!” Richard swore. “Don’t you screw this up for me, or so help me, I’ll cut your nuts off and wear ’em for a necklace!”
Bill watched from a distance, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what Richard was doing. “Your grandpa’s a gutsy old man, you know it, kiddo?”
He tried his best to roll the truck up toward the blockade as quietly as he could so as not to distract the screaming creatures from Richard’s yelling tirade. It took all of his driving skill to slide the old truck around the one that chased them back up the hill a moment ago and not smash the front end up in the process; he really didn’t want to risk hitting one now.
As he approached the Humvees, one of the creatures spotted the oncoming truck and made a mad dash for them. Bill
