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

on the plate armor carrier. If she took a bullet, the impact cloth would stop it but the carrier would prevent the round from knocking the wind out of her, maybe breaking a rib. He knew living people could be way more dangerous than the zeds. He led her through the narrow strip of trees separating the properties and hurried between houses. After the fifth one, all of them with kitchens stripped bare, they started back to the Mercury.

“Company.” Jessie whispered and pulled her into a crouch when they were still two houses away. “Find some cover and stay in the woods. Be ready for anything but keep your finger off the trigger unless I pull my guns. If I do, start shooting.”

Okay she mouthed and licked her lips. She’d never shot at people before. These were the first they’d seen.

He slung his M4 over his back and rolled his fingers. He was much faster with the Glocks, he could shoot in two different directions at the same time.

39

Iona

There were three men and a woman, all with good clothes, armor and guns. No face paint. No finger bones for necklaces or filed down teeth. They weren’t tossing his car looking for things to steal which was a good thing. It was relatively clean and he didn’t want it splashed with blood and body parts if they tried to force the trunk. It was wired with C4. He didn’t try to sneak, he intentionally stepped on a branch so they would hear him coming and scanned the house and woods beyond the car for a sniper. They turned quickly but no one brought their guns up. They held them loosely. Professionally.

Jessie said nothing as he approached, waited for them to either greet or challenge him.

They watched him come, loose limbed and walking towards them like he didn’t have a care in the world. He wore gun blasted leathers with metal pauldrons and license plates riveted to the arms. They were stained dark in places from blood and gore. Some zombie, some human. His guns were slung low on his hips. Easy to reach and fast to pull. Like him, their eyes scanned the wood line. They knew there had been two people in the car, one of them probably a girl judging from the gear in the back seat.

Jessie stopped about twenty feet away, out of Natascha’s line of fire, and waited.

“Are you Jessie Meadows?” one of the men asked.

“Maybe.” Jessie said.

“It’s him.” The woman said and grinned. “I told you it was him. It’s the same car, the one Bastille used to talk about.”

“Hi.” She said and approached. “I’m Sergeant Wallace. We used to hear all kinds of stories but nobody has mentioned you lately. Some of us were afraid you’d been killed and they didn’t want to tell anyone.”

Jessie watched the others, watched their reactions, waited to see if she was a distraction while they went for their guns. They had grins on their faces, too. He didn’t sense a threat.

“I’ve been loafing.” He said and made a fist at her proffered hand. He didn’t shake anymore.

After a second’s confusion she bumped fists and the others introduced themselves. They all gave a rank with their name even though they weren’t wearing uniforms. She whistled and a young boy came up the driveway a few minutes later leading five horses. They had been on patrol, she explained. They’d heard the car coming from way off. There wasn’t anything to eat in any of the houses for miles around, they had taken it all back to their base.

Jessie motioned for Natalie to come out, that it was safe and she slipped out of the woods a few minutes later, her M4 at low ready. Wallace offered them lunch, they had rations to spare in the saddlebags.

“You’re up first, Rodriguez.” Wallace told one of the men.

“Aww, sarge. I was first last time.” He grumbled.

“And you’ll be first next time, too.” She said. “Unless you want KP again.”

He made a face but didn’t complain as he took off in a slow jog towards the road.

“Guard duty.” She said. “They’ll be coming, chasing the sound of your car. It might take them a while but they’ll show up sooner or later.”

They made a cold camp and shared food. Jessie had chocolate bars and canned peaches which they hadn’t had in a long time and they unpacked seasoned fish cakes and thick slices of deer jerky. They spoke freely as they ate and guards rotated out every fifteen minutes. They asked a lot of questions about Lakota and the other walled cities and talked about the things they missed. Most of those things were powered by electricity. Movies and games, electric ovens and washing machines. They missed them, wished they had them, but not enough to pack up and move all the way across the country to get them.

“We’ve talked about it.” Wallace said. “It comes up every once in a while, but we have a pretty good setup. It was hard the first winter, we survived by raiding houses. Up this way the undead were pretty much frozen in place come January and that made it a lot easier. We killed a lot of them, every one we could find in about a five-mile radius.”

“If you don’t have electricity or cars, how do you know of Jessie?” Natalie asked.

“We have some.” Corporal Lawrence replied. “But it’s a cobbled together system using homemade turbines in the river and car alternators to charge batteries. Enough for the clinic and to power the radio in the mess hall but not enough for dishwashers or DVD players.”

“There’s about a hundred of us left.” Sergeant Wallace answered Jessie’s’ question. “Mostly civilians. Had a lot more in the beginning but you know how it is. Zombies, sickness, not much to eat the first winter, bad health to begin with, no medicine. It took its toll; we were floating people down river almost every day for a while.”

They