100 Days in Deadland (Deadland Saga, #1)(83)

“My apartment is about three miles from here,” Tack said.

I frowned. “Apartments sound too dangerous.”

“When that sun comes up, anywhere is going to be too dangerous,” Clutch said.

“How about the pharmacy we cleared out? It’s not far,” I said.

Clutch shook his head. “The glass windows will make it hard to hide.”

“My girlfriend’s house is across the street from First Baptist. She went to Des Moines with her parents shopping when…you know, so the house should be clear,” Tack said.

Clutch sighed. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Tack gave directions, and Clutch weaved around cars and cut through yards. A lump formed in my gut when I saw the zeds building behind us.

As soon as we hit a side street, Clutch stepped on the gas to put some distance between us and them. “We’re going to have to move fast. Run to the back door. Don’t be noticed. If you are, take care of any that home in on us. Tack, you make sure you get us inside fast. Then we’re going into silence so no zeds get a bead on us. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said.

“Tack, grab any extra ammo off Southpaw. I have a feeling we’re going to need every round,” Clutch said before relaying our next coordinates to Tyler.

A moment later, Tack pointed. “There. That two-story brick one. That’s the place.”

“Let’s do this.” Clutch cut the engine of the Humvee while it was still rolling into the driveway, and I jumped out.

It was dark enough that the herd of zeds about a block away was only an ominous fog of shapes. Sweeping trees cast ominous dark shadows over the yard, hiding God only knows what. Clutch scanned the backyard alongside me.

Tack checked the back door. When it didn’t open, he lifted a flower pot and grabbed a key. He opened the door and disappeared inside.

I went to follow but stopped cold. I pulled out my knife, walked down the steps, and stood on the patio. A zed emerged from the shadows. It groaned, and I lunged forward and stabbed it through the top of its head. I looked around for more. Clutch tugged my arm and motioned to the door.

I followed him inside. He locked the door, and I found us in a kitchen. Aside from the earliest glimmer of dawn coming through the windows, it was pitch black inside. I moved slowly to not make any noise and closed the blinds on the kitchen window. I turned, leaned on the sink, and inhaled.

Death.

I smelled death.

I stepped cautiously into the living room, where Tack was closing the curtains. The smell was stronger here. He noticed me, held up a hand, and whispered, “It’s Daisy.”

“Daisy?” I mouthed back.

“Golden Retriever.”

Relief replaced my tension. Now all we had to do was wait it out.

Something thumped against the window.

Tack and I both stiffened. Clutch walked silently into the room. Thump.

I flattened against the wall and peered out of the crack at the end of the curtain. Several zeds grabbed at the Humvee. Even more zeds stood on the other side of the window, sniffing at the air.

Thump, thump.

I stepped back, mouth opened. Impossible. They couldn’t possibly find us through brick and glass. Clutch exchanged places with me and he looked outside. Tack looked outside from the other edge of the curtain.

Both looked as surprised as I felt.

The pounding on the glass grew, and more zeds joined in.

“If I can get to the Humvee, I can unleash the .30 on them,” Tack whispered.

“There’s too many,” Clutch said in a low voice. “When that glass breaks, we’re going to have to make a run for it.”

All three of us checked our weapons one last time.

The glass shattered.

Clutch yelled, “Run!”

And we did.





Chapter XXIV


We bolted out the back door. Tack fired the first shots, clearing the patio. Clutch took the lead from there. I gripped my rifle as I sprinted behind him, with Tack at my side. It was still dark, but the coming dawn shed enough light to reveal outlines of zeds waiting in the shadows.

We ran in the opposite direction than we’d come. We ran through backyards, turning at fences and dodging zeds, shooting open escape routes. Once we broke from the herd near the house, Clutch set the pace at a quick jog, faster than any zed but slow enough that we could keep this pace for some time, if we had to.

And we had to. My clothes were soaked and my muscles burned by the time the sun reached into the sky. It was already easily eighty degrees and it was still morning. Body armor held the heat against my skin.

We could outrun any zed easily enough. But more just kept showing up. Around every corner, out of every alley. As soon as we got away from one herd, we’d find ourselves smack dab in the middle of another, and we’d have to zig and zag around houses and cars.

Tack ran out of ammo first. I was out eight rounds later. When Clutch’s rifle clicked empty, I think we all sucked in a collective breath. With nothing but pistols and knives, we kept running. The sun baked my head under the helmet, and I had to drop my rifle and backpack to keep up with the guys’ longer strides. My lungs couldn’t suck enough air by the time the zeds’ numbers dwindled and we reached an industrial park. Clutch slowed to a stop, bent over with his hands braced on his legs, and panted. I fell back against a wall, sucking air. Tack walked slowly, his hands on his hips, while he caught his breath.