Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus | Books 4-6 | Jessie+Scarlet Simpson, A. (pride and prejudice read txt) 📖

the back of the truck when the last woman eased herself out, crusted blood on her thighs, and bruises on her face. Bridget was scarlet with fury, her face a mask of hate, the angry red scar creasing the side of her head standing out in stark contrast to her natural beauty. She wore dark goggles over her eyes, sunglasses no longer an option. They wouldn’t stay on the little nub that was left of her ear. She turned those black eyes on the whining man and raised her pistol. He scrambled inside the truck, hurrying toward the darkness in the front.

They heard the thunder of Scratch and Stabby returning a few minutes later, as they dug through what little clothes they had to share with the mostly naked prisoners.

Griz looked up from tending to a man’s badly bloated hands, not wanting to tell him he would probably lose his right one, maybe even his left. The ropes had been savagely tightened and the blood flow had been restricted for days.

“Where’s Gunny?” he asked when the rumbling 455 was shut off.

“Still chasing the last one. He told me to come back, see if we could help with these guys. The truck is faster, it was pulling away, so Gunny is just going to try and run him down, hope he makes a mistake or runs out of gas.”

“That’s a stupid plan,” Bridget said.

“That’s Gunny,” Griz shrugged. “But what are we gonna do with these folks. We can’t backtrack for days with them. A couple of them really need to see the Sisters.”

The old black man spoke up, still sipping on a water and trying to rehydrate.

“We don’t need a babysitter. You boys got things to do, best be getting to them. We’ll take the truck and I guess we’ll head to Lakota. Ain’t nothing left for us back at home. Some of us been meaning to go up there anyway.”

The people with him nodded, a few of them still looking shell-shocked. The Raiders had gathered them from various places in their travels, the newest and strongest ones were the people from the RV encampment. They were older, probably the youngest of them in their 40s. Snowbirds and the healthy retirees who were lean and hard in their own way. Old timers who had been taken by surprise once by the gang and wouldn’t let it happen again. They hadn’t been beaten and starved for as long as the others and were helping where they could, tending wounds and giving the girls water. Griz didn’t like it, but they didn’t have much of a choice.

“When you get there, tell them President Meadows said to set you up nice,” Bridget said, pulling out another case of MREs. “There’s still plenty of houses available.”

A woman with short spiky gray hair spoke up when she saw Griz’s indecision, his concern about leaving them on their own.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about us, young man. We can take care of ourselves. They fooled us once, it won’t happen again.”

Griz nodded and flashed her a smile. She looked like a tough old bird, reminded him of his grandmother. “What about those guys in the back?”

“Don’t you worry about that either,” she said. “We’ll take care of them, too.”

“We’ll lay that girl that died to rest, and the coyotes can have the other three,” the old man said with grim resolve.

Scratch grabbed the gun off the top of the Cadillac and handed it to him. “You know how to handle one of these, old timer?” he asked.

The man took it, released the magazine and did a functions test, slapped the mag back in the well, then chambered a round.

“I was dropping bodies in the A Shau Valley before you were born, boy. I know a thing or two.”

“Roger that, old dude,” Scratch smiled. “There’s a bunch more guns in the cab.”

There were a handful of weapons scattered on the seat of the U-Haul and as they pulled out, chasing the shadows after Gunny, Griz could see the old man handing them out to his people. They would be fine. Zombies were easy to fight, compared to human foes. The old folk knew what to do, they’d take care of the others.

17

Scarlet

Scarlet was in her office, reading the reports from last week. They had liberated dozens more settlements, had hundreds more volunteers out of Saskatchewan. Her father's armies were spreading west, covering huge swaths of mostly unpopulated lands. The Canadians were a rough and tumble people and the survivors had banded together in groups to put down the undead, pool resources, and make it through the winter. Many communities were moving south once the snows thawed. There were no more borders, and without the modern conveniences of electricity and fuel oil, there was no reason to stay in the frigid north. They were bound for warmer climates. Her father was one step ahead of them and had sent platoons of men to man the border crossings. The Canadians fleeing the harsh winters for an easier life weren’t too overly concerned when they saw the border police still at their posts. Surprised, perhaps, but not concerned. Until it was too late and they realized it wasn’t the new Lakota government, but someone else. Men with machine guns who stripped them of everything they had and then offered a solution. Join us. Most did, they had no choice. The few that didn’t were allowed to leave.

On foot.

With no supplies.

They stormed off, muttering curses and revenge.

They only survived until they were over the next hill where, if they were needed as slave labor or for experiments for Dr. Stevens, they were taken prisoner. If not, they were killed and their bodies left for the animals.

The Anubis cult was granted absolution for anything they did to non-members. The laws only applied to those who believed. Non-believers were less than dogs, to be treated any way you wanted.

She looked up at the map covering most of one wall