Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors Part 20

Jerry saw the movement. It moved quickly, blending into the shadows of the jungle. He didn't see it clearly, but its shape was human.

"s.h.i.+t."

The figure had disappeared to the left. He turned right on Harwood Street and out from under the skysc.r.a.pers. The properties along this road had been concrete lots and low-rise buildings. Few plants took root in the deserted parking lots. Soon, the only vegetation in sight was the gra.s.s growing between the seams of the pavement.

The rush of the tires on the road hushed as he sped down the gra.s.s-covered street. The steering wheel felt loose and the tires plowed down the long blades, but the ride inside the coach had improved. The highway was just ahead and he allowed himself a thought of relief.

The shadowy figure had not been alone. There was a flurry of motion on the street. Vague forms dashed about the field beside the coach. Soon, the das.h.i.+ng stopped and the creatures began to stand up.

They were everywhere.

As tall as a man, hundreds of them began to appear. They looked identical; each had a sickly green complexion and a haunted look in their eyes. Their dead gaze did not follow the coach.

"What are they?" Alex began to panic. "They aren't human."

"Not anymore." Jerry pressed the pedal harder and wished that he had spent more time souping up the Silver Lining's engine.

The creatures stood their ground; their only movement was a gentle sway as if blown by a breeze. More creatures appeared as the coach sped south down Harwood.

"What are they doing?" Erica screamed from the back.

"Scaring us."

"It's working," she had her arm around Austin. Pulling the costume's head down tight with both hands, the young boy shook in his bear suit.

"Oh my G.o.d!" Alex pointed to the right.

The old mason hall had stood empty for years, even before the evacuation of the Metroplex. The art deco building was ma.s.sive. Twin steel doors, two stories tall, had burst open. More of the creatures rushed down the stairs into the sunlight.

Buds protruded from their skin. Vines drooped from the backs and arms of some.

They rushed into the street as the coach flew by the ornate steps of the Shriner hall. They gave chase.

"What are they?"

"They're plants. Mean ones. Keep that gun in the window!"

The mob of altered plant life didn't chatter or roar. It screeched. Each creature emitted a sound that caused the pa.s.sengers to cover their ears. Jerry had always a.s.sociated the sound with spring. As they shrieked, he envisioned himself with a blade of gra.s.s to his lips-gently blowing to make it whistle.

But the creatures' sound was louder and more intense than any blade of gra.s.s.

The off ramp he planned to use to get on the highway wasn't far now. He blew through dormant intersections and kept his eye on the service road ahead.

A green wall descended in the coach's path. Hundreds of the creatures fell into place behind one another to form a field of green.

"Hold on!" He didn't slow; his foot never left the pedal.

The shrieks became unbearable as the coach plowed into the creatures. They splattered and smeared on the motor coach. They flew in all directions from the impact. Green ooze splattered through the broken winds.h.i.+eld.

Alex recoiled into his seat.

"Alex! Shoot!"

The boy opened his eyes to see living vines reaching for him. He screamed and began to fire. Each shot spread more green pulp into the cab.

He fired until the gun was empty. A hand reached forward and pulled the shotgun from his grip and set another in its place. Erica and Trent reloaded the empty shotgun as Alex emptied the replacement.

The truck slowed from the resistance of the crowd. The tires lost traction as they slipped on the pulp of the crushed monsters.

All forward motion stopped.

Alex continued to blast any creatures that tried to climb the hood. Jerry cranked the wheel left and spun the tires until they burned through the shrieking ma.s.s and touched the road again. The vehicle lurched under the canopy of the old Farmer's Market.

Here the surface of the road was exposed; he could get solid traction and build some momentum.

But there was no time. The mob of living plants surrounded them. The creatures ama.s.sed on all sides of the home and began to rock the coach.

Alex fired another shotgun dry. Erica handed him a fresh one.

Jerry drew the .45s and emptied a clip from each, picking off a creature with each shot.

"Do something!" Erica screamed.

He risked a glance to the back of the cab. Erica's fingers bled. He couldn't tell if she had been hit or worn the flesh from her hands feeding sh.e.l.ls into shotguns.

Trent had grabbed a weapon of his own and was firing at the creatures as they began to shatter the windows. Chewy barked ferociously and snapped at any vines that made their way into the interior. She s.n.a.t.c.hed one in her teeth and thrashed her head until the vine detached from its host.

Jerry emptied another clip and grabbed for the iPod. He held the b.u.t.ton until it chimed ready for a voice command. He yelled into the device, but it didn't register over the growing peel of shrieks.

He tried again, this time cupping his hand to block out everything but his voice.

"Play sequence, Ring of Fire!"

A chime rang through the coach's surround system and the device's voice replayed the command.

"Playing songs by The Muppets."

"What? No! No!" He mashed the b.u.t.ton harder to reset the voice prompt as Mahna, Mahna began to play.

The song filled the cabin as the Silver Lining shook violently. Cracks began to appear in the sh.e.l.l. Curtain rods crashed down. Kitchen drawers rattled open and spilled their contents onto the floor.

The iPod chimed again and Jerry spoke the command once more, "Play sequence, Ring of Fire."

Responding with a positive beep, the iPod displayed a picture of the legendary singer and Johnny Cash came over the stereo speakers. External speakers popped to life and the trumpets began to play. Soon, the Man-in-Black's voice boomed under the metal roof of the Farmer's Market.

"This isn't helping!" Erica began to cry. Her reloads were slowing.

"Wait for it." Jerry fired several more rounds through the winds.h.i.+eld.

The chorus quickly approached.

"Everyone get away from the windows. Don't touch the walls." He dove to the back, dragging Alex with him.

The chorus erupted over the speakers.

On the exterior of the coach, spring loaded nozzles revealed themselves, each extending exactly twenty-eight degrees. Propane shot through pipes from the rear mounted tanks and hissed as it primed the system.

With a tremendous whoosh, the gas ignited. The nozzles spewed flames in a cyclone of fire around the Silver Lining as Johnny Cash went down, down, down.

The shrieks changed from blood l.u.s.t to pain as the creatures ignited and burned. The odor of charred flesh and burning cedar filled the air as the fire spread throughout the mob of creatures.

The flamethrower went cold, but the Man-in-Black kept singing.

Jerry slapped Alex on the back. "Get back on the window."

Alex leapt back in the pa.s.senger seat and shoved away two burning creatures that had chosen the hood of the coach to perform their death throws.

Jerry jumped back behind the wheel.

The majority of the burning creatures fled in no particular direction. Any that had escaped the burn off watched the coach cautiously. Their shrieking stopped and the streets of Dallas were quiet.

The song reached its second chorus.

The remaining creatures scattered.

Johnny Cash continued to fill the former Farmer's Market. With the mob having dissipated, the overwhelming volume of the song became apparent.

Erica smiled. The boys darted about the cabin, peering out each window.

"They're all gone," Trent moved from window to window, not quite understanding what had happened.

"What's with the music?" Erica screamed to be heard. "What did you do?"

Jerry smiled. "Learned behavior. They won't come near us again during the chorus." Jerry fumbled for the iPod and stopped the music.

That's when they heard it.

"Librarian." The voice was low, raspy. "Librarian." It was weak. "Is that you, Librarian?" It sounded like a helpless old man calling for help, and it terrified him more than anything else on the planet.

TWENTY-EIGHT.

A dull thud answered back as he kicked each of the new tires. Two were almost bald and one had been patched, but each now held air and supported the rig and its many trailers.

Satisfied with the "they'll do for now" explanation he had received from the engineer, the major ordered to have it noted that armored tires should be a priority project once the men returned to Alasis. The man who had fired on them had been a remarkable marksman, but others in the waste could get lucky. The search for spares had cost them a day. And each day meant that rations and supplies dwindled.

It was noted and the engineer stepped back to his post in the command center.

The major gave the tire one more swift kick and looked up at the wall of the trailer. The eyes of a child caught his. The girl was young-young enough to outgrow the memory of the horrors of what he and his men had done to the town of Vita Nova.

Years ago, the look on her face, like someone had p.i.s.sed on her pony, would have stirred pangs of guilt. Years ago, there was no way he would have been able to raze a town or incarcerate innocent women and children. But, times had changed. He was not the man he was years ago.

He smiled at the little girl who only stared back at him. "What's your name, little girl?"

The girl didn't make a sound. She just stared at him with big eyes of innocence. He could feel the gaze pa.s.s his eye and peer deep inside him. There was a discomfort that he welcomed. Guilt had resurfaced. It was a terrifying and invigorating feeling. It quickly overcame him and he began to plead with the girl.

"I'm doing this for your own good, sweetheart. The world is too dangerous. I'm taking you to a safer place."

Brown eyes stared back.

The major grabbed the slat and pulled himself to the little girl's level. "Can't you see that?"

The little girl, as cute as she was obnoxious, sighed and spoke, "I can see fine. You're the one with only one eye."

The guilt ebbed and disappeared. He reached through the slats and tried to grab the little girl. She easily ducked the awkward grasp and backed away from his reach.

"Get back here, you little brat. I'll slap some respect into you."

A women's face appeared before him. Throwing herself between the major and the little girl, she fumed at the one-eyed monster. "Don't you talk to her like that, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

The major grabbed the woman by her hair and pulled her face into the grated wall so it was close to his.

"Don't you talk like that. This will be the last time I show compa.s.sion." He pushed her back from the wall just far enough to slap her across the face. The woman shrieked and fell back. The brown-eyed little girl rushed to her and put her arms around her.

He smiled at her again, but bared his teeth this time.

"I hope someone kills you good," said the little girl.

The major laughed and walked back to the cab. He climbed inside and moments later the rig belched a fury of black exhaust. The cha.s.sis rumbled on the frame as the monstrous truck was forced into gear. Chains rattled as the four trailers joined the forward surge down the road to New Hope.

TWENTY-NINE.

There was a rustling about the motor coach. It was still outside. The creatures that weren't burning had fled. The raspy voiced continued.

"You always did like that song, Librarian. You played it constantly, safe inside your little hole."

The voice seemed to come from all around them. Erica and the boys looked to Jerry. He wasn't moving.