Squirrel wasted no time. He opened the throttle and leaned low on the bike, doing his best to streamline his form and give the would-be attackers a smaller target to swing at.
He was approaching the first intersection with the wreckage when a lone figure stepped in front of him. It held something in its hands, and for a moment Squirrel feared that the creature was going to launch himself directly into his windshield.
He weaved the bike first left, then quickly to the right in an attempt at avoiding the creature making the standoff.
Just as he shot past the red-eyed bastard, it threw something at the bottom of his motorcycle. Squirrel felt the back-tire bump over the obstruction and he quickly accelerated away. He weaved through the wreckage again, then stopped on the other side of the intersection.
He turned and looked back. The creature was picking up the piece of pipe it had thrown. It took Squirrel a moment to realize…it had tried to throw the pipe into his back wheel, stopping him dead on the road. He glanced at the creature and the look it shot back at him turned his blood cold. The creature hefted the pipe into the air and screamed, his arm pumping up and down as he shook the pipe at him.
Squirrel kicked the Indian into gear and quickly put as much distance as he could between himself and the infected.
He felt his stomach twist as he realized how close he had come to not only wrecking his pride and joy, but being laid out on the pavement like some leather clad buffet. He had to keep replaying the events in his mind. Could they really have figured out how to stop a motorcycle like that? Were they becoming smarter?
He tried to force the idea from his mind. Surely not. He’d dealt with their kind before. They were constantly in a rampage. They seemed to operate on rage and adrenaline. They weren’t capable of rational thought.
Were they?
He slowed his bike and tried to force his attention on his surroundings. There could be more camped out along the sides of any of the roads. There could be more traps.
He thought of Candy and her group. Were they aware that the Zulus were capable of such things? He felt like he needed to warn them, but…what if it was just a fluke? A poorly-made attempt at knocking him from the bike? What if it was purely accidental that it nearly locked up his wheel? What if he was making more of the situation than it really was? What if…what if they were becoming smarter?
He had to warn her.
He had to let her know some of these murderous abominations were capable of higher thought. He slowed the bike and prepared to work his way back to the warehouse when he suddenly locked up the brakes. He stared ahead and felt his stomach drop again.
“Where the fuck you been?” Stain asked.
Chapter 4
Hatcher stayed in the Humvee with Buck while the military men cleared the house. He turned to Buck and gave him a crooked grin. “I guess you’ll get a real bed tonight after all.”
“Easy now. You don’t want to jinx us again, do you?”
Hatcher gave him a pat on the arm. “No worries, Buck. I think they’ll make sure it’s clear enough that you can sleep with both eyes closed tonight.”
“I’m not sure I remember how.” The kid looked up as Hollis walked out.
“They’re clearing a body. The smell has more or less faded, and there wasn’t a lot left, but we’re going to open the house up and let it air a bit.” He gave Hatcher a knowing look. “It may not do a lot of good.”
Buck nodded. “It was really ripe in there when I rummaged for food.”
Hollis nodded. “You the one that left the mess?”
Buck shook his head. “No, sir. I picked through the mess. Somebody else beat me to it, but I don’t think they were looking for food.” He shrugged. “At least not the kind you and I would eat.”
“Copy that.” Hollis glanced over his shoulder then opened the door to the Humvee. “Looks like we’re good.”
Hatcher stepped out and stretched. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We’ll set up perimeter guards and double them come nightfall. We can’t risk them getting the drop on us.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Those damned Hummers make all kinds of noise, so I’m sure if there were any Zeds in the area, they’re screaming our location to all of their crazy buddies.”
“What about a watch for further transports?”
Hollis nodded. “House has a flat roof. We’re gonna set a watch whose only purpose is keeping their eye on the horizon. If he sees anything, he’ll pop a flare.”
Hatcher raised a brow. “Just one flare?”
Hollis shrugged. “We’ll pop one, and if the aircraft doesn’t change position, he’ll keep popping them until we get their attention.” He clapped Hatcher on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ranger. This ain’t our first rodeo.”
Buck followed the pair into the house and was a bit surprised that nobody made an effort to at least kick some of the trash out of the way. The men just seemed to step on or over whatever was in their path. Magazines, scattered papers, ruined groceries, couch cushions…none of it mattered if it didn’t directly relate to their mission.
He watched as men set up at windows and doorways at the corners, settling in to keep watch for trespassing zombies. It took him a few moments, but he found his neck and shoulders relaxing as he realized he didn’t need to stay on guard. He sat cautiously on the edge of the couch and leaned into the overstuffed back. He could feel the stress of the day releasing and he closed his eyes. Although it was still daylight out, he slipped into slumber.
Hatcher caught a
