“Do they think nobody can see them?” Mrs. Deneaux asked, finally getting up from her chair.
“Looks like they’re going to try and pull the truck out,” Ron said, clenching something tightly in his left hand.
“Did the hook one of them is carrying give it away?” Deneaux asked.
“Ron?” Tony asked his oldest son.
Ron knew what he had to do, but theory was always easier than practice.
“Ron, once he lays that hook on, they’re gone,” Tony stated looking through his scope.
Ron was a devout anarchist…that was why his next words seemed to take on more meaning. “God forgive me,” he said as he pressed down on the detonator. For the briefest of moments nothing happened, and Ron was relieved. Then the earth exploded, or at least that was what it looked like as two strategically placed Claymore mines went off—one on each side of the disabled truck. Ball bearings shredded the three men like a fork pulled along a slow roasted pork loin. Meat, bones, and blood…lots and lots of blood coated the trees on either side of the roadway.
The man still in the truck opened his door and fell to the ground, the sound and possibly some shrapnel injuring him further. He began to crawl back towards the truckers’ encampment. Tony severed his spine, killing him instantly.
“It’s good to see at least one Talbot not all wrapped up in morality,” Mrs. Deneaux said as she turned to get back on her chair.
Tony let his head drop a bit, he had not wanted to kill the man, he had to.
“Well, they’ll think twice before they come that route,” Mrs. Deneaux said smiling, lighting another cigarette.
“Wish we had more of those,” Ron said, putting the detonator down on a small table, absently wiping his hand on his shirt as if he could wipe off the death his thumb had just delivered.
“It’s alright, son,” Tony said. “Mrs. Deneaux is right. No one is going to come up that way.”
***
Eliza’s head whipped around as the explosion tore through her men. “Kong,” she said to the truck driver’s leader.
“I’ll find out,” he told her.
“Seems the rest of the Talbot clan has just as many surprises as Michael,” Tomas said smiling.
“Do not start!” she said, pointing her finger at her brother.
Kong came back a moment later. “We have a truck stuck in the only approach a vehicle can make. They had it booby-trapped so when three of my men went up to hook up a tow cable it went off. They were killed instantly…plus the original driver.”
“Have my zombies made progress?” Eliza asked.
“Their fence is holding so far. Doesn’t make much sense, it’s only a chain link fence and it has extra supports, but still with as much push as the zombies should be giving it. It should have buckled by now. And what makes it weirder is the zombies up towards the front are not really doing anything, they just kind of stand there,” Kong finished.
Tomas had an idea of what might be going on. His sister looked completely befuddled and he decided to not tell her.
“We can make it more difficult on these people,” Kong stated.
“I’m listening,” Eliza told him.
“We can station men in the woods and shoot back. Maybe we kill some of them…at the very least we can keep them off that wraparound deck. We have more options if they’re not cutting down your zombies at the rate they are now. And a few of the driver’s are prior military, we could probably assemble some sort of strike team when they’re all huddled inside.”
“I would like at least some of them taken alive,” Eliza intoned.
“Of course,” Kong said, leaving to get some planning done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Mike Journal Entry 13
According to the mile markers, we had walked ten miles and where getting pretty close to the 495 and 95 interchange. Our traveling was getting slower and slower; Azile was having great difficulty walking under such a heavy load. Every time she lagged behind, I would take more equipment from her even as she protested that she needed to do her part. By the time we hit ten miles, the only thing left to carry would have been her.
“Someone’s coming,” Azile said as she stood back up. She had been sitting by the side of the road with her shoes off tenderly rubbing around her sore spots. “Hide?” she asked me when she realized I wasn’t moving.
Normally that would have been standard operating procedure, but we hadn’t encountered so much as a scooter. We were traveling at a whopping ten miles per half day, and at this rate, we’d get to Maine and it’d be winter and I had no desire to revisit sled travel. “Hold still, but get ready to move.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Better than most,” I told her. My heart thudded a little heavier when I saw that big rig crest over the top of a small rise.
“It’s a truck, Mike,” Azile said, looking over towards the trees.
“Hold steady,” I told her, the trucker had already seen us. He flashed his lights, if we bolted now it would look mighty suspicious, although ‘suspected’ is better than dead. Now I was looking over at the tree line.
The truck was slowing as it approached. It stopped about twenty feet away. “That rig back there yours?” he shouted, sticking his head out from the window.
“Hers!” I pointed to Azile. She did not look pleased that I had singled her out.
“Run into a bit of trouble?” the trucker asked.
“Flat tire,” I told him.
“Is that right?” he asked back.
“We’re running late for an appointment, is there any chance you could help us out?” Azile asked.
The driver switched his gaze from me to Azile, but keeping me in his periphery due to all the weaponry I was carrying. “That’s funny ‘cause I’m a little late, too…had some truck trouble and had to stop and get a quick fix on.”
What were the odds? I thought. I was going to give it a shot. “Listen, we need to get to a particular thing in Maine, or we’re going to be in a world of hurt.”
I watched as recognition lit the man’s face up. “Well fancy that, I have an engagement in Maine also. I just need to make sure we’re playing for the same team, you can never be too careful.”
“Never too careful,” I reiterated when I saw the barrel of his rifle resting on his dashboard.
“We had a shipment of guns and food,” Azile said. “Kong gave us directions to a place in Maine where we were supposed to deliver them. If I don’t at least show up and tell him what happened he’ll think I stole the stuff.”
The man’s face softened when he heard Kong’s name. “Kong isn’t the most forgiving man, are you sure you don’t want to just start walking the other way?” The driver asked.
“I’m his niece,” Azile said, “he might be mad but he’ll understand.”
“What about him?” the driver asked.
“He’s my porter.”
“Funny,” I said under my breath.
“Come on, you both can tell me what happened when you get up here,” the driver said as he reached over and opened his passenger door.
A large orange tabby was staring me straight in the face as I went to climb into the rig.
“Oh, don’t mind him, I picked him up back in North Carolina. He was just wandering around. He climbed up into the truck and now he’s convinced he owns the place,” the driver said, smiling as he reached under and picked the cat up.
The cat hissed violently as he did so, but it was looking squarely at me. The cat remembered me. Good, I thought, he’ll know why I’m cutting off its air flow when I get the chance.