“Run,” I said. “Just run!”
As Charlene and Kia ran, the door fell. It slammed to the floor. Zombies clogged the doorway, shoulder to shoulder. It was almost comical. “Go, Dave, go!”
The door he and Melissa guarded remained closed.
I swung my sword at the first zombie into the kitchen. My blade decapitated the thing. It took several more steps toward me and fell. The two behind it stumbled over the corpse, tripped and fell.
The other four were out the door. I heard something honk. Had to be a horn. It just sounded out of place.
The bus.
I turned and fled. I left the kitchen, pulling closed that door. It was steel. It should hold them for a moment. The fire safety bar across the middle of the door did not take a genius to operate. Once they pushed on it, the door would open. It was that simple.
Bus was not the right word for what sat parked at the back of the school. I remembered taking Cash and Charlene to see the Monster Truck Show at the War Memorial one winter. Beefed up Pick-up trucks with giant wheels and tires rolled over and crushed lined of cars. This…bus, easily fit into the monster category. Cash could have stood inside the wheels. The thing was painted a flat black. The windows were reinforced with black painted steel. The front end was the best part. Gene had mentioned a cattle scoop, like those found on the front of a train. But what I was looking at was an industrial size plow. It wasn’t for snow removal, though. The “V” blade sat six inches off the parking lot, and went as high as the front windshield. Overall, it had to be almost six feet tall. Gene was right. It should cut through traffic without as much as a hiccup.
The bus passenger door swooshed open. Gene smiled behind the wheel. “Climb on board, Chase.”
The cafeteria door kicked open. The hungry zombies growled as they filed out of the school. I ran and followed everyone up and into the bus. Gene pulled the handle and closed the doors. A gate unrolled, like one you’d see at a mall department store at closing time.
“Just lock those in place by your feet.” Gene pointed. I bent and secured the locks as zombies beat at the closed door. “They can’t get in, but even if they broke down that door, with this gate down, they still can’t get in.”
I stood up. Gene could not wipe that grin away if I’d begged him. “You like it?”
“This is the shit,” I said.
“I rigged the tank. It holds nearly 200 gallons of gas. Gets about 10 miles per gallon. That’s highway. But still, should be enough to get us from here to Mexico, if you can believe that. Andy was able to grab us some maps,” Gene said.
I heard paper ruffle and looked back. Andy unfolded a map. “We’re going to cross through five states. The fifth is Texas. From here to the border, it’s exactly 1,680 miles. Mostly highway,” he said.
“We drive straight through, take turns at the wheel, thirty-five hours or so, we can be there.” Gene put the bus in drive, kept his foot on the break. “What do you say, we done here?”
“Lot of supplies by the door,” Charlene said. “I mean, a lot of supplies.”
“A lot of zombies, too,” Melissa said.
“This bus has everything we could want, I assure you,” Gene said.
Megan shrugged. “Then I say we’re done. Let’s move out.”
Kia and Allison sat in seats one in front of the other. Each had their back pressed to the wall and a knee on the seat so that they weren’t so much sitting, but kind of standing in a way they could face everything on the bus. They both nodded, and Kia flashed a thumbs up.
“I say we roll,” Andy said.
“Charlene?” Gene said.
She looked at the school, at me, and finally at Gene. “Mexico or bust.”
Gene smiled, showed all of his teeth and then cast his eyes on me. “And Chase?”
I hated leaving the food, and the medical supplies. There was nothing we could do about it. We couldn’t risk going back for it. “Mexico. I agree. Let’s move out!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
1700 hours /1680 miles to go
Seats in the back of the bus had been ripped out. There were storage cabinets and boxes of dry food and canned goods stacked by the cabinets, without obscuring access to the Emergency Exit door. Shelves above the two rows of seats housed weapons, an assortment of bats and long handled axes, machetes and rifles. There were boxes of ammunition, as well. Seats toward the middle were removed, and had been replaced with bunk beds, one set on each side.
“Gene, I am not going to lie. This bus is simply outstanding,” I said. I stood with one foot on a step toward the door and leaned against a pole.
“It’s the shit, right? I told you, didn’t I?”
“You told me. I didn’t completely believe you. I mean, I figured you had a bus. Why lie about that. But this, no. I couldn’t have dreamed it up if I’d tried,” I said.
Gene laughed and slapped a hand onto the steering wheel. “She rides real smooth, too. We keep her at forty, fifty miles an hour, and that engine is going to hum the whole way. You have my word.”
“Okay, you get tired, need a break, you let me know. We’ve got more than enough people to take turns at the wheel,” I said, as we pulled out of the school lot and made a left onto New Castle Road.
“You might as well try to get some sleep. As long as I’m not ramming vehicles blocking our path, I’ll do my best to keep all of you from feeling like human milkshakes.” Gene laughed, again. He clearly enjoyed himself.
I didn’t think I’d be able sleep, but I wanted to lie down. I think I needed to.
“Are you okay,” Charlene said.
I nodded. I walked from the front of the bus toward the beds. “Guys, mind if I crash for a bit?”
No one minded.
The bus bounced up and down the highway. I didn’t feel at all like a milkshake. Lying down with that steady motion felt kind of amazing. And while I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep, I closed my eyes and did just that.
# # #
Wednesday, November 24th, 0108 hours / 1265 miles to go
“Dad. Dad?”
I opened my eyes. Darkness was all around me. “Charlene?”
“You’ve been asleep a long time, like eight hours,” she said.
I got up onto an elbow, and held back a wince. I didn’t want Charlene to even suspect how much my side hurt. While I needed to clean this stitched area better, what I really had to find was prescription pills. The cut had been too deep; too long to not have something inside me battling against an inevitable infection. I rubbed my eyes, which were not easily adjusting to the darkness. “Eight hours?” That didn’t seem possible. “Where are we?”
The bus wasn’t moving, I didn’t think.
“Kentucky. Just crossed the border not that long ago,” she said. “We kept looking for a gas station with electricity, stopped at this one so we could fill the tank, and use the restrooms. Everyone is kind of busting at the bladder.”
“Help me up.” I held out my hand. She hoisted me up into a sitting position. I rubbed my eyes. I retrieved my weapons and strapped them on. “You go yet?”
“No,” she said.
I stood up. “I’ll follow you.”
Andy was at the wheel, the bus running. “We’re filling the tank, too. Had to go in and activate the pumps from behind the counter. Running a credit card didn’t work. We’ve gone about, I guess, over four hundred miles.”
“No trouble?”
“Mostly getting around cars and stuff. Highway’s bad, but navigable, really.”
“You tired? I’m gonna pee. I just got a solid eight hours,” I said.
“I know. Good man, that’s good.”
“Well, I’ll take the next leg of the trip.”
“I’d appreciate that. I’ve only been behind the wheel for a few hours, but it’s not natural being up and driving at this time of night. I have no idea how those long distance truck drivers stay awake on the road,” Andy said.