Zombie Road | Book 8 | Crossroads of Chaos Simpson, A. (new books to read .txt) 📖

bad enough the crew had started dabbing menthol under their noses and wearing masks.

Gunny stood on top of the front engine, watched the horizon for the inevitable horde to show and slowly rolled a smoke. He was tired. They had been working nonstop driving in and out of the city, going farther into the desert each time to leave room for the bodies to fall.

“This isn’t going to work.” He said as Griz joined him and squinted into the distance. “We haven’t gotten any closer the last four or five runs. They just keep pouring out of the suburbs and we’re barely putting a dent in the numbers. We’re going to run out of fuel or ammo or both before we get to the border.”

“Yeah.” The big man said. “You got a plan B?”

“Maybe.” Gunny said and unfolded one of the maps he’d marked up. “I’ve been studying this.”

He pointed to the port of Ensenada less than a hundred miles away on the Pacific Ocean.

“The rail lines go straight in, it has to be a shipping container port.”

Griz rubbed his beard and pulled up memories from many years ago when he was a young Marine.

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “I kind of remember that place. We used to run down there on long weekends when I was stationed at Miramar. Great fish tacos. It was a cruise line depot, too. You thinking we can steal a cruise ship?”

Gunny laughed and folded the map away.

“I’m thinking we tell the soldiers to meet us there. I’m going to call, let them know of the new plan. I hope they have enough fuel to get there because we’re never going to force our way through the hordes in Tijuana.”

“Works for me.” Griz said.

It was a simple plan and seemed so obvious but a few days ago, they didn’t have the rail maps of Mexico. A few days ago, no one had remembered the quiet little port in a tiny little city. He missed having an intelligence network where any information he needed could be accessed with a few keystrokes of the computer or a phone call to someone in the know. Now he was running a mission based on a computer train game, that didn’t have the Mexican rails expansion pack, if they even made one. All the data was still available somewhere on hard drives but they didn’t have a Central American asset, a CIA guy or FBI analyst that would have instantly known about the port and the rail access to it. All they had were a few overworked, stressed out people trying to do the best they could with what they had. Gunny tossed the cigarette and shook his head. This was no way to run an operation.

16

Ensenada

They backtracked farther, found the right track and cut through the desert. The sailors liked the new plan, they wouldn’t have to hike the five miles through the sanctuary along the Tijuana River. The map showed the rail lines going all the way to the port, all they’d have to do is get off the boat and on the train. Gunny kept the locomotives moving at a slow and steady pace, tried to keep the engine noise to a minimum and shut it down a dozen miles out. They were hidden in the mountains and it was a good spot to rest up and wait for the sailors to get into position. They had crossed a few trestle bridges and the undead following them had a hard time negotiating them. Thousands wound up broken at the bottom of the canyons and the few that made it across were easily taken out. Griz inventoried their remaining rounds and had the crew set up the mortars on the roof. Plowing their way through like a bull in a china shop hadn’t worked so they were going to try a little subterfuge and stealth. They needed a little distraction to pull the hordes away from the train and a few rounds lobbed to the other side of the city should do the trick. The mortars had a range of four or five miles but they only needed one. A mile was close enough to lure the undead away but far enough to keep them busy while they got the soldiers loaded.

Hollywood and Bridget whipped up dinner and the crew ate quietly in the dining car as they went over the plan one last time. They were looking forward to a real night’s sleep. It had been days since anyone had more than a catnap.

“Stay off the .50’s unless it’s an emergency.” Gunny said. “It’s a small city, hopefully they’ll all be chasing after the explosions. We’ll start dropping rounds about four miles out to pull them away. Scratch, mix up high explosive, incendiary and smoke. With a little luck our path will be clear. Once we get close enough to the ocean the waves and wind might mask our noise.”

“I can help.” Xavier said.

“Appreciated.” Gunny said. “We’ve got plenty of silenced .22’s to go around. You have to aim for the head, though. It won’t do the damage the big guns will.”

“I’ve got something better.” The kid said. “Simon said I shouldn’t use it unless I had to, like in an emergency or you know, something…”

He didn’t finish his thought and looked embarrassed as they waited for him to continue.

“Um, I wasn’t really supposed to show it to you.” He continued in a rush, his eyes on the table. “Simon said you can’t be trusted, he said you left us to die on purpose but I don’t believe that anymore.”

“Whatcha got?” Scratch asked. “Some secret weapon in your backpack?”

“Uh, no.” he said and held up his arm with the clunky electronic bracer. “This.”

“And what’s that?” Hollywood asked “Looks like a fancy toothpick dispenser.”

“Klystron microwave amplifier.” Xavier said. “It fries their brains, it’s quieter than guns and cleaner than blades.”

“So that’s a laser gun?” Scratch asked. “Uses dilithium crystals or something?”

“No.” Xavier said. “It shoots a