Deadland Rising (part 3 of the Deadland Saga)

Uncertainty (Chapter 2)

Griz pointed to the collapsed wall beyond the boats. "Plan B! Keep going. We can't risk the front entrance. We need to put more distance between us and them."

As we ran passed the entrance, I risked a glance behind me to see three dozen voracious zeds tumbling after us. Rats scurried under racks of clothes and counters. Fortunately, the slick floors were proving difficult for the zeds, and we were getting well ahead of them. I followed Griz as he weaved through the fallen boats and toward the open space where a huge glass door had once been used for moving boats in and out of the store.

Part of the ceiling had collapsed above the door, leaving debris piled several feet high. I stumbled over the rubble and caught myself before falling onto dangerous glass shards. Outside, the sun shone brightly enough to blind me. It took me only a second to get my bearings, and I ran toward our Humvee.

Something had drawn some of the zeds away from us and back to the main entrance. There, the loud engine of the other Humvee slashed through the area. The fast-moving distraction, with six people piled inside, plowed through the herd. Frost stood in back with a rifle and took shots at the zeds that got back up.

With them working on the herd outside, I turned and focused on the dozen or so climbing over the rubble. I unslung my rifle, took aim, and fired. A zed dropped. A shot rang off to my left, and another zed fell. A third shot joined in. We finished off the small herd in less than four minutes.

After I checked out the bodies in the rubble to make sure none survived, I turned to see Marco walking around the dead in the parking lot. I couldn't see Clutch's face, but if his slow, heavy march toward the other man was any indication, he wasn't pleased.

I hustled toward the pair as Clutch threw his arms in the air. "I told you to bug out if things turned to shit. Tell me exactly how bringing everyone into a zed swarm is bugging out?"

"I wasn't going to let you have all the fun," Marco replied.

"What part about it being a direct order didn't you understand?"

Marco pointed to the east. "My boss is lying dead across the state line right now. I'm not like you or Griz. I wasn't some G. I. Joe Rambo before the outbreak. I was a volunteer, not a soldier, and I'm not good with following orders. Hell, before all this, I was a consultant who had just about reached Delta's Million Mile status."

Clutch wagged a finger at the younger soldier. "Someone could've died back there. That'd be on you."

After a pause, Marco spoke. "I know. If things got hairy, I would've made sure they were safe. You have my word. I'd never put them at risk."

"C'mon guys," I said as lightly as possible. "The store is just about cleared. I'd really love to do a little shopping. Okay?"

Grudgingly, they turned their attention from each other and back to the store.

It took five hours before we had the stragglers in the building dispatched and enough rubble cleared to back our vehicles inside and park them in between the boats. From outside, no one could see any sign of survivors.

We couldn't risk bandits finding us here like they had at the store on the Mississippi. We'd been exhausted and let our guard down then. It had proved to be a fatal mistake.

Never again.

The guys worked at clearing multiple exit routes, with one route to the vehicles and backup routes, one to each direction. With how prepared we were, everyone had agreed to spend as many days here as needed to sift through supplies, give the Humvees an oil change, and prepare for the long trip ahead.