“What are you looking for?” Scrub asked.
“Anything that could tell me what happened here.” He kicked at a piece of side mirror that had broken off one of the bikes.
“Dude, there’s no way to know what came from our boys being killed in the attack and what was already here,” Salty added. He leaned against a dead car, a smoldering cigarette dangling from his fingers.
Savage stood and peered around the wrecked cars. “They didn’t put these cars here. They just found a way to take advantage of the position.”
“Duh.” Salty took another drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt over the top of a blue hatchback. He watched the arc of the orange tip and his eyes settled on a lone figure standing on top of a dead car, a stick or pipe in its hands. “We got company.”
Savage spun and stared at where the man was looking. He stepped up onto the side of one of the dead motorcycles and stared at the lone figure. It slowly raised the pipe in its hands and shook it.
Savage raised his arm and flipped the infected the finger. “Fuck you, man! Bring that broomstick over here and I’ll shove it up your ass!”
“Uh, Savage.” Scrub was pointing behind them to a group of infected slowly filling in and closing off their avenue of escape.
“Oh, so now these goofy sons of bitches want to come out and play, eh?” Savage walked to his bike and pulled the MP5 from the scabbard. He clipped it to the lanyard on his belt then pulled his pump 12 gauge shotgun. Racking a round into the chamber, he turned to the other two bikers. “You might want to arm up, fuckers. These assholes aren’t going to wait.”
Scrub and Salty both scrambled to their bikes and fumbled with their own weapons. Scrub leveled the shotgun on the figure who still stood on the dead car. He knew that the distance might be a bit too far for shot to be effective, but he’d loaded the gun with slugs. There would still be enough momentum to put a golf ball-sized hole through the skinny rager.
As soon as the creature opened its mouth to scream, Savage pulled the trigger. He didn’t wait to see if the round connected. He pumped the shotgun and turned to the crowd advancing on them. He emptied the shotgun into those few unfortunate beings in the front of the mass, then switched to his MP5.
He held the extra 9mm magazines in his left hand while he sprayed into the crowd with his right. “Mow these cocksuckers down!”
Scrub and Salty both began firing into the crowd and Savage turned his back to reload. He saw three of the creatures crawling across the top of the truck that had the road blocked. He actually smiled as he leveled the MP5 on the ragers and began cutting them down. “You ain’t sneaking up on shit!”
Savage began turning a slow circle, aiming his weapon, and taking isolated single fire shots to conserve ammunition. He had no idea how large the clan of ragers were, but he wanted to do his best to send them all straight to hell.
Scrub stared at his weapon, still smoking from the last magazine he had emptied. “I’m out!”
“Then swing the goddam thing like a club!” Savage screamed as he leveled his weapon on those still advancing.
Scrub stared at the weapon, then at the crowd. In a panic, he threw the weapon down and mounted his bike. The big Harley V-Twin roared to life and he gunned out of the kill zone and into the oncoming crowd.
“You cowardly son of a bitch!” Savage turned and fired toward Scrub’s taillights. He watched two more of the infected creatures collapse and the engine of Scrub’s bike revved high before it died.
“T-they got him! They got Scrub!” Salty stammered.
“Fuck him!” Savage reloaded the MP5 and kept firing. “They can have that yella bastard!”
Salty suddenly stiffened. “I’m out, too!” He hefted the M4 at those still advancing. He stepped back and turned to cover Savage’s back, a survival knife in his hand.
“Move it!” Savage pushed the man toward the edge of the cars that made the outer perimeter of the kill zone. “We can’t let them pin us down.”
He handed the MP5 to Salty. “Make each shot count.” He began reloading the shotgun while the other man picked at the advancing forms.
Just as the crowd began to pick up momentum, Savage grabbed Salty by the back of the jacket and pulled him away. “In the truck!” He shoved the man against the side of a garbage truck and Salty scrambled up the side and into the cab.
Savage slammed the door and locked it shut just as bodies began to hit the machine; a few actually caused a slight rocking motion as they struck.
Savage leaned his head back while his fingers worked deftly in his pockets. “How much ammo is left?”
Salty pulled the magazine and counted. “Eight.”
He held his hand open. “I got four rounds left for the 12 gauge.” He closed his eyes and tried to imagine how things could get any worse when the screaming outside built to a crescendo.
Amidst the screaming, he heard gunfire. As the gunfire increased, the screaming stopped, and bodies stopped slamming into the dump truck.
Savage tried to peer through the side mirrors to see what could possibly be happening. Salty grabbed his arm and pointed to his own side mirror. “There’s somebody out there!”
Savage actually felt relief flood through his body as the creatures tore away from them and began running toward whomever was shooting at them. “Whoever that fucker is, we owe him.”
He glanced around the cab looking for keys. Although he doubted the machine would start and run, if there was any chance they could use it to mow down some of the ragers, he was going to give it his best.
He finally reached under the dash and felt around the ignition. He jerked the wires from the connection and
