Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Read online

  I stare at Megan and Silas briefly and then I take off at a jog, following my dad. If I’m going to watch anyone’s back, it’s definitely going to be his.

  An hour later, I am completely numb from my fingers to my toes. Even my nose and cheeks have stopped hurting and are just frozen. The yard is a hub of activity with the rumble of diesel engines and various pieces of equipment being loaded onto the trailers for transport, and I’m pretty much a nervous wreck.

  All this movement isn’t exactly quiet, and we’ve managed to attract at least fifty zombies to the outside perimeter of the fence. They follow us around and moan, clutching at the chain link with rotten fingers. The sight of them makes me even colder.

  “That’s it,” Regg says as he parks the last tractor trailer behind the other two already lined up at the gate. We all stop and stare at our adoring fan club and grimace.

  “I have an idea,” Silas says with a slight grin on his face. “We can’t risk damaging the trucks by plowing into a group that big, but I could definitely clear them out with that—” He points to a huge yellow machine with an enormous flat blade mounted on the front.

  “Do you even know how to run that thing?” Regg asks, and Silas shrugs.

  “I spent a summer driving a tractor around a corn field— I’ll figure it out,” Silas retorts, and it’s Regg’s turn to shrug.

  “I guess if you think you can do it,” he tells Silas as he hands over the remaining hat full of keys. “Just don’t make me regret this!” Silas takes the keys like a kid on Christmas morning and presses a quick kiss to my lips as he jogs over and climbs up into the massive mountain of metal. We all watch him trying the various keys until one works. The engine roars to life and smoke billows out of the stack.

  We all jump back when the dozer bounces a little and start’s forward with a lurch. The metal tracks make a distinct clicking sound as it rolls. After a few minutes of complete experimentation, Silas seems to gain control over the machine and gives us the thumbs up.

  My dad sprints over and gives me a big hug. “Be careful kiddo,” he warns me and I nod, hugging him back tightly. I’m so grateful that he’s starting to trust me out here.

  “We’d better get going,” Regg tells us softly, not wanting to intrude, but also wanting us to get the hell out of here. Dad releases me and runs back to his truck, and I watch Barry climb into the passenger seat of the same truck my dad is driving.

  “I guess you girls are on your own for now. Who’s driving?” Regg asks, holding up the keys to the Ford.

  “You do it,” I say to Megan right away. I’m not exactly comfortable driving on a good day and snow and zombies don’t help.

  Megan snatches up the keys. I climb in the F-150 with her and watch everyone else get into their big rigs—I didn’t even know my dad could drive a big truck! Once we are all inside, Silas gets the dozer rolling forward until it gains momentum, and he smashes through the front gate with absolutely no effort. “Holy shit,” Megan mutters under her breath, and I kinda have to agree with her. I hadn’t been expecting Silas to just smash it like that, but I guess it would be dangerous to get out and open it.

  Silas raises his blade a couple feet just before he crashes into the crowd of zombies. Even though I hate them and I want every single zombie on this planet to die, I can’t help wincing. The zombies are like bowling pins getting knocked over and pushed out of the way, with those that fall getting rolled underneath the blade. “Oh gross, look at that one!” I yelp, pointing to an unfortunate zombie that’s gotten himself stuck between the dozer’s tracks. He’s flopping around like a rag doll as the tracks continue to spin, and I’m transfixed. I can’t look away. Thankfully, he falls off on the next resolution and gets ground to bits.

  Megan and I both clap our hands over our mouths. “I think that is one of the worst zombie kills I’ve ever seen,” Megan admits, and I can only nod. If I thought killing a zombie with a chainsaw was badass, Silas definitely has me beat with this.

  The zombies don’t know that they don’t stand a chance against the machine, so they just keep heading for the big blade and it makes quick work of them. Silas does one more pass and then there are none, and nothing left of them except crushed up corpses, bone chips, and goo. The lead truck idles up and starts rolling, driving right through the gore until it gets a good half a mile down the road. Then Regg stops, and the rest of the convoy follows.

  Megan stops the truck near the dozer to see if Silas is going to jump in with us, but he waves her away. I look at Megan in confusion as we leave Silas behind and she shrugs. “I’m sure he has some plan up his sleeve,” she tells me, and she’s probably right.

  We wait with the rest of the trucks for another ten minutes while Silas slowly creeps up on us in the slow-ass dozer. When he parks the machine and gets out, Regg frowns at him. “What are you doing?”

  “We have to take this thing with us!” Silas says, and it’s as close to begging as I’ve ever seen Silas get. Regg turns to stare at the already loaded trucks.

  “Oh come on,” Silas cajoles, pointing to the truck that Jack was driving in the middle. “You only have two skid steers on that trailer. It has to be a fifty foot trailer—at least—there’s plenty of room.”

  “Fine,” Regg snaps with a frown on his face, but I’m pretty sure it’s all for show because he really wants the dozer too.

  We sit for another half an hour while they screw around and reposition the small skid steers and then roll the giant D6 dozer up the beavertail ramp and chain it down.

  “I doubt she’s legal, but it’s highly unlikely that there’s anyone left employed by the Department of Transportation to stop us,” Jack says with a booming laugh as he finishes tightening the chain with the chain binder and tosses it into the tool box.

  “Good. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Regg yells to be heard above the rumble of engines.

  “Take it easy with that thing, she’s my girl,” Silas shouts to Jack, pointing to the dozer, and I feel the craziest stab of jealousy.

  Jack laughs. “Don’t worry about it man. I’m gonna drive this D6, like a G6—see you back on the mountain.” Silas waves as Jack jumps back into his truck and takes off.

  Megan hands over the keys and gets into the backseat as Silas gets in the Ford and pushes the driver’s seat way back. I watch him with narrowed eyes as he puts the truck in gear and eases off down the road. The truck fishtails and I grip the handle above the door, causing Silas to glance over and look at me. “It’s getting slippery out there,” he says unnecessarily, and I can’t help it.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather ride with Jack and ‘your girl’?” I ask, air quoting. I instantly regret my outburst when Silas’s face cracks into a grin, and Megan laughs from the back seat.

  “Aww, honey, are you jealous of my dozer?” he asks, and it’s so ridiculous that even I have to grin. Inside, though, I’m melting because Silas just called me honey.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We drive for half an hour before Silas looks sharply to his left and slams on the brakes, causing the truck to skid sideways and me to let loose a girly scream. “What in the hell are you doing?” I demand as I watch the brake lights on the trucks up ahead light up.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Regg’s voice crackles into the cab through the walkie talkie that I’d almost forgotten I’d shoved in my pocket.

  Silas grabs the walkie from my hand and holds the talk button down. “Did you notice that fuel station back there had a couple tanker trucks?” he asks, and there is silence on the other end—apparently Regg had not.

  “Why don’t you go take a quick look? I don’t really want to find a place to turn all these trucks around, unless there’s a good reason,” Regg says after a full minute of silence where we all just stare at the radio in Silas’s hand.

  “Be careful!” my dad cuts in across the two-way radio, cutting Regg off.

  “She’s staying in the truck,” Silas responds firmly, giving me a meaningful
look as he sets the walkie talkie down on the center console and does a U-turn with the Ford right in the middle of the road.

  We pull into the parking lot, and Silas squints out into the swirling snow, trying to gauge the danger level. “I can’t see a damn thing,” he admits finally, pulling his gun from his belt and climbing out of the truck. He stops and looks back over his shoulder at me. “Stay in the truck.”

  My stomach sinks as he walks away, and every instinct in my body screams at me to follow him, but I also don’t want him pissed off. He promised my dad, and I know his word is important to him, so I sit and scan the parking lot instead. If he needs help, though, there is no way in hell I’m sitting in the cab letting him handle it alone, but I guess, until I actually see any sign of danger, I can at least pretend to follow his rules.

  I watch Silas check all around the first tanker truck for danger before he focuses on the side of the tank where there is a series of valves and places for the hose to attach. I watch him study it for a minute before he grabs a valve and gives it an experimental tug, which opens it up and liquid starts to gush out. He lets it spill on the ground for a minute before he struggles to shut the valve off, and the flow slows and finally disappears.

  Silas bends down, dips his fingers in the puddle, and sniffs them for a split second before he shakes his head in annoyance. He digs in his pocket and pulls out his own walkie talkie and switches it on. “This one is gasoline,” he tells us before turning his attention to the second tanker. It’s parked in a different area, so I really hope that will mean something good for us.

  “Gasoline is still good,” I mutter, and Megan nods.

  “We can use it, for sure, but it’s not what runs the machinery,” she quips like a know-it-all, so I stay silent and ignore her.

  Silas repeats the process, and this time his face lights up with a grin. “Diesel,” he informs us through the two-way. He goes up to the cab of the second truck and peers in the window before throwing the door open and stepping back. A zombie falls face-first from the cab, and Silas uses his knife to stab him in the temple before he has a chance to struggle to his feet.

  “Why didn’t he just use his gun?” I ask, and Megan rolls her eyes at me.

  “This is just a guess, but he probably didn’t want to cause a spark and blow us all up,” she says, and I feel my cheeks get hot with embarrassment—sometimes I just don’t think before I open my mouth.

  Silas climbs up in the big truck, but after a couple turns of the key he gets out and motions for us to bring the Ford over while he pops the hood of the semi and rummages in the back for some jumper cables. Megan gets into the driver’s seat and has to move the seat forward again before she can reach the pedals. She drives it nose to nose with the tanker and pulls a lever underneath the dash. A loud pop echoes through the cab as the hood latch releases.

  Silas nods his thanks through the window and quickly clips on to our battery. Time feels like it crawls by as I watch Megan’s watch tick by fifteen minutes. I see movement out of the corner of my eye and try to shake off my watch envy and focus—it’s just Silas going back into the cab, and this time the truck roars to life when he turns the key.

  He jumps out, unclipping the booster cables, and tosses them into the back of our truck. “It looks like you girls are on your own now,” he says, his voice coming in over the walkie talkie. “Because we got the tanker truck started!” he crows, letting the others know what’s happening.

  “Take it easy on these roads,” Dad lectures through the walkie, his panic clear, and both Megan and I assure him that we will. We wait for Silas to get out on the road, and then we pull in behind him.

  I can tell Megan isn’t completely comfortable on the icy roads, and I’m definitely not when she taps the brakes and the truck just keeps sliding. I watch her reach over and pop the truck into 4x4, and I’m not sure if it really helps, but it makes me feel better at least.

  It feels like the drive takes forever as we crawl along. The road is completely white and iced up, and it’s even drifted over in certain spots, though at least the big trucks go through first and break a trail. The driving snow blurs and looks like stars when the spaceships go into hyper drive, so at least that’s kind of cool. “Holy, it’s hard to see,” Megan complains, rubbing her hand across her face. Her eyes are getting bloodshot from the strain of staring at the road.

  “Look at that zombie,” I point out the window, trying to lighten the mood. The zombie is standing on the side of the road, barely moving, and he’s covered in a thin layer of snow, making him look a bit like a snowman. “All he’s missing is a corn cob pipe and a button nose,” I joke, but Megan doesn’t even snicker.

  “Hopefully this weather will slow them down, or freeze them to death or something,” Megan says, and I nod. That would be awesome.

  We reach the bottom of the mountain, finally. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see it in my life, and that includes all our summer vacations back when things were good. My whole body feels shaky and strained from worrying about the road conditions, and expecting to die at any minute. I just want to get home and crawl into my bed—a hot bath would be nice—but bed is much more attainable.

  “You girls should go on up the mountain first. It’s going to take us a while to get the trucks up—it’s pretty steep,” Regg’s voice comes over the two-way, and I let out a sigh of relief. I definitely do not want to follow the trucks while they crawl up the mountain at snail speed.

  Megan steers around the trucks and trailers. “Just a minute!” My dad’s voice crackles over the radio. “Barry wants to come with you guys.” I look over at Megan and we both make a face, but we still hit the unlock button when Barry comes running over with his head ducked down against the pounding snow. He jumps in the backseat and we take off, winding past the big trucks—I wave to my dad and Silas as we pass by.

  “It’s really coming down out there,” Barry says, leaning forward on the console to stare out the front window.

  Megan gives a grunt of agreement that reminds me of Silas and makes me smile.

  “Yeah,” I add, just because it seems rude not to reply.

  “It’s only going to be worse the higher up we get,” Barry promises, and he isn’t wrong. It’s practically a white out by the time we pull up outside the cabin. I get out of the truck and shiver as the icy wind somehow manages to find its way up inside my jacket. Megan jumps out of the truck and heads for the house, and I follow closely behind her, hoping to somehow use her as a wind block. When we reach the front steps, a figure standing on the porch starts towards us and I dumbly turn with a smile, thinking it’s Ryan.

  Megan raises her gun and fires two rounds into his forehead, and my jaw drops. “What are you doing?” I squeal as I run forward to get a better look at who she just shot. It’s a zombie—holy shit.

  I raise my fist to knock on the cabin door, but it falls open underneath the gentle press of my hand, and the small hairs on my arm start to rise. We haven’t had a chance to fix the door yet, so there is no way it wouldn’t be locked from the inside if everything was okay. I stare inside at the lack of flames in the fireplace and fear runs down my spine, settling in my belly.

  “Mom?” I shout into the cold, empty cabin, but she doesn’t answer back. A low growl next to my ear has me spinning with my gun up, but Megan beats me to it and shoots the zombie who’s coming at me from the kitchen.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Megan demands, but of course, I have no idea either.

  I panic and throw caution to the wind, breaking into a jog as I head for the stairs, checking each bedroom, but they are all empty. I even check the roof, but there isn’t anyone out there either. I run back downstairs, out of breath and panicked. “They aren’t here,” I tell Megan, which she obviously already knows.

  I brush past her to go back outside. If they aren’t in here, then they must be outside somewhere, hopefully safe. Barry is standing next to the truck looking nervous. “What’s going on?” he asks,
motioning to the zombie lying dead on the porch.

  “The house is empty and there are zombies,” Megan says, filling Barry in with the least amount of words possible.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, noticing the way he’s almost cowering against the door of the truck.

  “I accidentally left my gun back in the truck with your dad,” Barry admits, and my jaw drops. What kind of an idiot is this guy?

  “I remembered halfway up the mountain, but I thought it would be okay...” Barry trails off and looks sick.

  “Silas keeps extra guns and ammo underneath the backseat,” I tell Barry, taking pity on him.

  “Oh my God, thank you,” Barry mumbles as he throws the back door open and starts scattering everything all over the place in his hurry. He grabs a double-barrel twelve gauge and a handful of loose shells, though there aren’t very many lying around loose, so he opens up a new box and adds the contents to his pockets too. “What’s the plan?” he asks once he’s armed again and obviously feeling more confident, and I motion to the surrounding mountainside.

  “We have to find them. My mom, Sunny, Abby, and Ryan are out there somewhere,” I say, sucking in air to try and stave off the full-blown panic attack that’s lurking just below the surface.

  The wind is howling so loudly that it’s impossible to call out for them, and I still have no idea how long Silas, Regg, Jack, and my dad are going to be. Thinking about Jack gives me an idea.

  “What about Jack’s house?” I suggest, and Megan looks hopeful.

  “They might’ve gone over there—doesn’t Jack have a wife and a sister?” Barry adds, and we all take off in that direction at a run. We get halfway to the cabin when we all stop dead and stare at the odd tableau in front of us. There are at least ten zombies standing around the base of a scraggly old tree. Ryan, my mom, Sunny, and Abby are all up in the branches, clinging on for dear life.