Zombie Rush 3 Page 5

  "I need you, Ed," Lisa said and laid her hand gently on his forearm, causing the woman Lu—who always seemed to be with Krupp lately—to shuffle nervously.

  "They need you too. In fact, humanity as a whole needs you and many more like you, Ed, and that is who we are going to save." Lisa finished, causing Krupp to raise his head so quickly that it startled her. His fierce hazel eyes met hers, and she could tell that his resolve had returned.

  "You're right; let's do it."

  "Okay, but I want to make some changes to ease up on you a bit, okay?"

  "There's enough to keep me busy no matter what you decide, Lisa, so lay it out and we'll work with it," Krupp said as he slapped her on the back in the closest thing he could come up with as a thank you, and they walked back to the group gathered by the vehicles.

  "Okay, here's how it's going to go down. Ed is going to assign people to help him in establishing a safe zone all the way through Benton and into Little Rock. That's where we'll run to after the shit hits the fan so it has to be safe, secure, and ready to take what's coming. Tim and I, along with most of the guard members, are going to spearhead the advance." Lisa would have continued but the sound of a helicopter interrupted her and everybody stopped to watch. Lisa stepped up next to Krupp, suspecting who it might be and knowing that Krupp had never met the mysterious major.

  "Who the hell is this joker?" Krupp asked as an officer with six armed personnel crawled out of the Blackhawk and strutted toward where Lisa and the rest stood watching. Something about the whole procession didn't seem right. The soldiers didn't maneuver as if they were ready for anything, spaced ten feet apart with their heads on swivels. Instead, they surrounded the major more like an honor escort in a procession than actually ready for battle. They didn't survey the scene and held their rifles across their chests like they were spears or halberds opposed to hanging from their slings or in their hands and ready for use.

  "That's Major Lindy; Benson thinks he's a poser and I'm also kind of leaning that way myself," Lisa said, watching Krupp's reaction.

  "He looks like a piece of shit," Krupp replied.

  "Go easy, Ed; he usually has some valuable intel."

  "Army captain's bars mixed with grunt stripes and Navy … I'll do my best, but no promises. Those of us who have served don't take too kindly to his type," Krupp said quietly as the major approached.

  "Just relax a little and listen; if things get too thick, we'll call him out."

  "Officer Reynolds, it's good to see you on this fine day," the major said as he slapped his recently removed gloves on his pant leg before putting them in his back pocket while reaching out to shake her hand.

  "Pleasure seeing you again, Major Lindy; this is Officer Krupp. He's leading this expedition."

  "So I have heard on the radio. It's a pleasure meeting you, Officer Krupp."

  "It is a pleasure meeting you also, Major," Krupp said as he noticed the soldiers arranging themselves to completely envelope the major. "So to what do we owe the honor?"

  "Just doing some flyovers of Little Rock, and there are some developments that I think you should know about. It seems that close to a thousand people in Little Rock heard your broadcast and decided to come out to meet you."

  "Oh no," Krupp said.

  "Fuck," Lisa emphasized.

  "Exactly. More than half of them still live, but they are losing more every minute. They're scattered between Shannon Hills and Crystal Valley, with a solid wave of at least two hundred thousand zombies on their tail. The escape—or exodus if you will—has attracted a lot of attention from the undead. Behind the first wave is more who seem to be simply following the rest, and I'm afraid that you're right in their path."

  "Two hundred thousand? That's more than we've fought through this entire ordeal," Lisa said in semi-silent calculation.

  "Yes, it is," Major Lindy replied.

  Krupp just stood there, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the force coming toward them. That was two hundred to one odds, and a force that would engulf their heavy equipment like it wasn't even there. His mind played an internal video of swarms of locust devouring everything in their path.

  "Did you hear that, Tim?" Lisa asked, seeing the guardsman off to the side and noticing that he neither acknowledged nor saluted the major.

  "I did," Tim replied.

  "Send civilians and soldiers out and bring a couple of big rigs that they can jump into. I can't get you equipment for this one, so they'll have to make due with trucks only; I need you here, so you'll have to delegate a lead."

  "Roger that, Lieutenant Reynolds—taking the deuce and a half and the half-tracks along with most of the Humvees," Tim replied.

  "Rescue only—do not engage," Lisa instructed. She then looked to Krupp and found him staring right back at her.

  "Stick with the plan, Ed; secure this town and I'll handle what is ahead of us, deal?"

  "Roger, Lieutenant," Krupp replied. Krupp watched on, wondering why he didn't doubt for a second that what the major said was true. Everything else about this man was phony, so why did he trust the intel?

  "So what else have you got for me?" Lisa asked, also not of a mind or position to spend too much time with the major.

  "Well, the undead seem to be stacked heavily on this side of the city so you're either going to have to plan for that or come in from the north side, or both."

  "Hmm, that does present an issue, now doesn't it? Is there any help out there for us?" Lisa asked. Benson and Krupp had pointed out some things, along with the lack of regard from Tim and the other soldiers toward someone who should be their commanding officer. She was left more than a little on edge about the major—even though she trusted what he said was true.

  When she looked closer at his pins and medals, they all seemed to be just a bit off. The colors were too bright and words were just barely legible, combined with an overall cheapness about them. The fact that he was posing as a major was a minor factor compared to what was happening. He was a sham and she could see it now and, to be true to her straight-forward nature, she would have to call him out on it eventually.

  "Well, you have a couple hundred farmers with big equipment coming in from the north, but other than that, you're pretty much on your own. Your compound is making remarkable progress—which is needed because you're on schedule to be at over ten thousand souls within the next day or two."

  "I don't recall requesting a census," Lisa said, taking the major off guard. A furtive flick of the eyes and the sudden appearance of a Cheshire's smile showed Lisa that he was aware of her suspicions.

  "So talk to me, Lindy. No one here seems to believe that you are even in the Army, yet you have a Blackhawk helicopter and all of the equipment. So explain how that works."

  Lindy smiled before replying, as if he had expected the question. "I knew it wouldn't take long for you to figure it out. The uniform was just meant to get your attention. I'm not used to wearing fabrics like these, so it will be a relief to lose this drab set of rags. I think, in all fairness, you should accept that simply because the uniform isn't real does not mean that I wasn't sent here. Sometimes we have to assume appearances in order to get people to follow and do what is necessary."

  "What exactly is necessary, Lindy?"

  "Why … the survival of humanity, of course. Surely you of all people must have picked up on that?"

  "Oh, I think I have a grasp … who sent you?"

  "I guess that's the real question, now isn't it? All of that will reveal itself at some point in time. Now, I'm not giving you orders, or even trying to tell you what to do. At this point in the venture, I am simply relaying information, ideas, and offering options for you to think about. If you remember, it was me who told you to take the entire city back, and that has proven to be a solid decision. Your success and survival are my sole interests, and I'm doing everything humanly possible to assist you."

  "So stay and use your helicopter to drop some bombs on the approaching horde," Lisa said, kn
owing what his answer would be.

  "Can't … not yet, anyway," Lindy replied as he pulled his fake medals and pins off to lay them on the vehicle's hood.

  "I don't think we can trust this poser," Krupp said as he restrained himself. "I say we just commandeer his helicopter and use it for the cause."

  When he finished, Lisa stepped between them casually, just enough to intervene if need be.

  "I don't recommend that; besides, it's already being used for the cause. Keep up the good work, Lieutenant; you'll have over ten thousand living at the compound by the end of tomorrow—over twenty by the beginning of the week. Things are moving swiftly, so try to stay ahead of it and let's hope it's enough," Lindy said then turned to go, when Lisa stopped him.

  "How many more compounds are out there?" Lisa asked.

  "Yours is the only one of any magnitude that I know of so far, Lieutenant. There are several smaller ones, most of which are on their way here. Hot Springs is a sponge that's drawing everything within reach to it. Get as many resources as you can, Lieutenant; survivors are getting weaker every day.

  "Fuck that sucks. Hey, lose the uniform; it pisses people off," Lisa said as he turned toward the helicopter.

  "Aye aye, Lieutenant Lisa," Lindy said in a nonchalant manner that caused Lisa to feel that there was something very dangerous about the man. She was going to have to kill him some day … she could feel it.

  "What a piece of shit," Krupp said to Lisa as the poser crawled back into his chopper.

  "He very much is that," Lisa replied. "Okay, I'll take care of the road ahead, and you'll organize the forces within. Let's try to touch base every couple of hours or so."

  "Roger that."

  Chapter 5

  Run

  Sharon was going insane; she knew it when she slammed the grocery cart into the side of the zombie that had Gordon pinned and felt a rush. The zombie rolled to the side, looking up at her as he fell. Sharon was tempted to just keep running because, in truth, Gordon was an asshole. Instead, she stomped her heel down into the face of the ghoul she had knocked over with the cart and spun the cart into the legs of some slow movers tripping them up.

  "That is how a Walmart shopper does it," Sharon said as she lent a hand to help Gordon up.

  "Thanks," he said, catching the reference to his earlier snide remark about her personage.

  "Try to keep up now, pretty boy; fat girls like me get tired of saving dumb asses like you all of time," Sharon said as she started to run. The fact that she could run amazed Gordon, who truly viewed her as nothing more than a welfare wench who should be drug tested before she got her monthly check.

  Sharon's opinion of Gordon wasn't much better, but it didn't involve his appearance. Corporate dicks were never her cup of tea. She noticed the pretty boy running with a limp and hoped he wasn't bitten. That would surely put a damper on things. Guys like him always called Sharon fat because she was thicker; they called her clumsy even though she was an accomplished athlete in high school, college, and even the pro circuit. She was also called lesbo because she kept her hair short and liked boots with blue jeans more than skinny jeans and heels. Guys like Gordon were dicks who didn't deserve her attention; now if he wasn't so damn pretty … Guys like Gordon always said yes in the end; they always came around when the moon was as full as their libido. Like most men, he was nothing but a mass of opinions wrapped into a soft ball of clay.

  "Get in front of me, dammit. Were you bit?" Sharon said as she physically pulled then pushed him ahead of her.

  "No … charley horse … from falling … across that parking … lot …” He tried huffing out as he ran. Life in an office had sucked his stamina dry; he had to struggle constantly to keep up with the group.

  "Just fucking run!" Sharon said as she shoved him forward. Gordon was an asshole, but he was still alive and that was more than she could say about a lot of the rest of the world.

  The others were at the end of an alley waiting, but they were getting nervous about a cluster of zombies just half a block away and moving in their direction. It was a matter of when not if the runners revealed themselves. They hadn't figured out if it was actual thought, or an internal spike of energy within the dead. The runners didn't act like they had a couple of days ago. At first, they had led the charge but were easily taken down, leaving the others to be out-run; now, they waited until the group was almost upon the living before they lunged.

  Toby stood at the head of the group, waiting with the shotgun that got him into more trouble than it was worth. Every time he shot the thing, more zombies showed up.

  Sharon waved him off and signaled to Lin—their unofficial leader—and Marcy to keep running. They should be able to beat the group to the alley, and if there was a runner or two, Sharon would handle them like she had before.

  Sharon had been a track and field legend throughout school and had always been the lead in each event except hurdle, which was owned by her best friend Marcy. They weren't always friends but slowly came around through being pushed in to hotel rooms together as they traveled the state to compete. It only took one semester in college before they were roommates and then best friends to this very day.

  She could have stayed in track and field for life but the payout wasn't good enough, or at least she found the ring to pay a lot better. Mixed martial arts was the rage these days and she was climbing the ladder … until the zombies came.

  Sharon smiled when Marcy signaled with a nod before she followed after Lin. She then pulled her knife, opening it with a flick of her wrist. She wished it was bigger, like the machetes that they all seem to find in the movies, but it was just a knife she had found next to a corpse that had been eaten to a beyond-ambulatory state. Sharon didn't kill him even though she should have; she hadn't dispatched any of them at that point, but it didn't take long for that to change.

  They were going to beat the small mob, but she knew a runner would soon present itself. She couldn't afford a long battle, so she looked for anything she could use. There was a discarded backpack right at the entrance to the alley, and she knew she had to reach that first. This was the first she realized that small garbage cans must have become a thing of the past; the alleyways and buildings were lined with commercial dumpsters, which were too heavy throw. Hot Springs wasn't known for a lot of alleys but there in particular was a lot of space for her to get some distance from the undead—unless there were runners.

  Gordon had made it to the alley and Sharon wasn't ten steps behind him when she saw the first runner break free of the group. She veered toward the backpack, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed the hard areas of an internal frame. Something was inside, giving some heft to it. She swung at the last moment before the runner lunged and caught it in the head, causing it to stumble. She then saw the second runner coming in hot on the back of the first. She barely managed to get the backpack between her and the second when the first regained his feet. Sharon found herself backpedaling as the two runners pushed her backwards while the rest of the mob stumbled closer. Maybe this time she had cut it too tight.

  She swung the pack back and forth, keeping them off of her—until she tripped and fell hard on her back with one of them right on top of her and the other bearing down on both of them.

  "Goddammit, Gordon, why did I come get you?!" she screamed.

  She was waiting for the inevitable bite when something flashed within her vision and the standing zombie disappeared. A booted foot connected with the one on top of her, followed by a screaming two-by-four.

  "Because you think I'm pretty," Gordon said as he helped her to her feet.

  "You are pretty, Gordy. Thanks."

  "Just trying to stay even."

  "You got some catching up to do, but we'll count that one as two," Sharon said with a smile.

  They began running for the alley again with the slow movers too close for comfort. The alley opened into a wide T-shaped area with two exits to choose from. Both exits were filling up with stumblers, causing Sh
aron to look toward the doors on the buildings as a possible escape. All she saw were steel security doors without handles—meaning they could only be unlocked from the inside. There was one though that looked like it was more of a storage room for the main store than a room that led anywhere.

  "Gordon! On your left!" Sharon said, trying to get him to see the door.

  "No, there!" he replied and pointed to a man waving them on from a second-floor balcony. Sharon then saw Marcy's head looking out over the man's shoulder.

  Being in front and knowing that she was more capable of dealing with a couple of zombies than he was, Gordon jumped on the ladder the man had indicated. The bald, white man urged the two of them on. His wiry forearms, showing beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white button-down shirt, steadied the ladder from the top as Gordon made his way up. Sharon hit the bottom rung just as the screams of several runners breaking through the mass of stumblers filled the space between the buildings. The man helped Gordon off the ladder, bumping the top stringer with his shoulder as he turned. The opposite rung slipped off the edge of the balcony, twisting the ladder, sending Sharon and the ladder to the concrete. The ladder hit two zombies, knocking them down and tangling them in the latticework.

  Sharon rolled and looked up at the balcony to see the bald guy shaking his hand urgently and shouting Run! over and over again. Gordon looked at her and surprised her by giving her the impression that he was tempted to come down there with her. That's crazy, she thought. He ain't going to do that.

  Just as she was just getting her stride, she looked at Gordon long enough to see him launch the two-by-four he had used to help her out toward her. It skidded on the ground in front of her between the one potentially accessible door. She only slowed a little to pick it up, thinking that it wasn't much around so many Z's, but it was better than nothing. She used it on a stumbler as she came under the lean-to roof, taking a wide swing with the almost four-foot board crushing the skull of the flesh eater. She added a burst of momentum and focused her energy on her shoulder, knowing that she only had one shot at it. The door held but the frame didn't and she fell into the room on top of the door and frame.