Lenore mashed on the brakes, pitching forward. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Gimme a sec!”
Twisting around in the driver’s seat, Lenore saw Tito vanish out the broken side door. Ken scrambled out of his seat and snatched the bloody crowbar on the counter. Breathing heavily, looking far too pale, Ken guarded the door.
“Ken, take deep breaths. Don’t hyperventilate,” Grandma ordered in her strictest tone.
Forcing himself to obey, Ken dragged air past his trembling lips into his lungs.
Craning her neck, Lenore tried to see what Tito was up to. She spotted him darting up a narrow dirt driveway toward an abandoned dirt bike. At the end of the drive was an old ranch style house with the windows broken in their frames and the door ajar. She wasn’t sure if it was abandoned or if it had come under the assault of zombies. The front yard was filled with discarded vehicles and appliances listing in the overgrown grass.
“What’s that crazy Mexican doing?” Grandma muttered beside her.
“Hurry up, Tito!” Ken shouted. He was still shaking, but had a little more color in his face and no longer appeared on the verge of passing out.
Tito was almost to the dirt bike when two zombies rose out of the tall grass in the center of the yard. Their faces and necks were slathered in gore and they were both chewing.
Lenore began screaming just as grandma and Ken unleashed their own warning shouts, their voices mingling into a cacophony of incoherent words. Both zombies pivoted toward the RV before lurching into awkward lopes across the yard in the direction of the road instead of at Tito.
“Oh, shit! They’re coming this way!” Ken gasped.
Tito took hold of the dirt bike’s handlebars and yanked it upright. Casting a fearful glance toward the zombies, he began to run parallel to them, heading to the RV.
Realizing that prey was much closer than the big metal beast on the road, the two zombies altered their course. One was mangled and barely human in appearance. It dragged behind, one leg twisting as it tried to run. The other zombie’s neck and shoulder was a ruin of flesh, but it was less mutilated and sprinted with terrifying sped at Tito.
“He’s not going to make it!” Ken cried out in anguish.
“Come on!” Lenore screamed.
“Why’d he stop for that bike? Damn fool!” Grandma huffed. “Serves him right if he gets eaten.”
“Grandma!” Lenore unbuckled her seatbelt. Grabbing the shotgun, she headed into the back. “Drive Grandma, but not until I tell you.”
“You know they took my license!”
“It don’t matter no more! Just drive when I tell you, Grandma!”
“Don’t sass me!”
Lenore shoved Cher’s carrier aside with her foot as she bolted down the short aisle. From the color of Ken’s face, Lenore could tell he had forgotten to breathe again. She pushed him away from the doorway. Her stomach rolled when she saw how close the one zombie was to reaching her friend. The muscles and veins in Tito’s neck and arms were straining as he ran alongside the dirt bike, pushing it with all his might.
Raising the shotgun, Lenore realized she could not get a clear shot with Tito running just ahead of the zombie.
“Dammit! Tito, I can’t shoot him!”
Dropping the bike, Tito dashed to the RV. The zombie’s feet tangled in the wheel of the bike as he tripped over it in his pursuit of Tito. With a growl, it fell forward, landing on its side as it twisted in the air. Lenore gasped as Tito yanked the shotgun out of her hands, swiveled about, and aimed at the zombie’s head. The creature’s head disintegrated into a mass of raw flesh as it tumbled.
The roar of the shotgun deafened Lenore and she ducked away, her hands flying to her ears. Stepping forward, Tito aimed toward the disgustingly-mangled zombie lurching across the lawn. The shot echoed around them and Lenore winced.
“There’s more coming up the road!” Grandma was staring into her side mirror. “They’re coming!”
Thrusting the shotgun into Lenore’s hands, Tito ran for the bike.
“Are you crazy?” Lenore shouted after him. She again pushed Ken aside as she fumbled for the bag with the ammunition in it. Muttering, she struggled to get the zipper open.
“Get out of the way!” Tito’s voice shouted.
Ken jumped aside just as a dirty bike wheel bounced over the doorstep. Tito shoved the bike into the narrow space, cursing in Spanish. His hair hung in his face, shiny and slick with sweat, as his dark eyes darted toward the road. Lenore knew that look. The damn zombies were coming and she was stuck at the back of the vehicle.
“Drive, Grandma, drive!” Tito called out, squeezing in beside the bike. He was dangerously close to the door and Ken thrust the crowbar at him. With a grateful nod, Tito snatched the weapon from his grasp.
The RV lurched forward as the old woman in the driver’s seat struggled with the steering wheel. The gears squealed and the RV slowly rolled forward.
“Go, Grandma, go!” Lenore screamed.
“I know! I know!” Grandma shoved down on the accelerator.
“You have it in neutral!” Tito exclaimed. “Put it in drive!”
“I don’t have my glasses! I can’t see!”
Shoving aside the curtain over the back window, Lenore wished immediately she hadn’t. A good size pack of mauled and bloody bodies, that should not be up and walking around, were rushing toward the RV.
“A crowbar ain’t gonna do it,” Lenore whispered.
“Reload the shotgun!” Ken shouted. “Do it.”
“Grandma, get this thing going!” Tito ordered briskly, close to losing his temper. Lifting himself up and over the bike, using the counter as leverage, Tito dropped into the narrow space beside Lenore. He snatched the shotgun away from her then began to hastily rummage through the bag.
“Oh, hell!” Lenore heaved herself up and over the small dining area in the RV, half falling and climbing as she made her way to the front.
Ken picked up the crowbar and stood near the dirt bike jammed into the narrow space. It was blocking the open doorway, but it wouldn’t be much protection if the swarm of undead reached them.
Looking over her shoulder, Lenore saw the first zombies reach the back of the RV. Their gory hands slapped against the window as they mashed their mauled faces against the glass.
“I can’t get it to go!” Grandma screamed, shoving the accelerator down with one foot, the gear stuck firmly in neutral.
Lenore leaned forward, grabbed the stick, and shifted into drive.
The RV roared forward. Her grandmother gasped, but held onto the steering wheel. Lenore leaned over her to help steer.
“Just keep your foot down,” Lenore instructed her grandmother.
“Off! Off! Off!” Ken screeched.
Lenore glanced over her shoulder to see a zombie clinging to the doorway and lashing out at Ken. Ken was swinging the crowbar at the creature while Tito struggled to get the shotgun loaded.
“Push the bike out! He’ll fall!” Lenore instructed. Her throat was tight with fear and her heart hurt in her chest.
“No! Don’t drop the bike!” Tito exclaimed.
Ken squealed as the female zombie snagged his crowbar with a hand that wasn’t much more than bone and tendon. Her matted, bloody hair swung over a featureless face as she snarled. Pulling herself over the bike, using the crowbar as her line to Ken, her teeth snapped together.
“Let go of the crowbar!” Lenore released the steering wheel and rushed to help Ken.
Rising swiftly to his feet, Tito rammed the butt of the shotgun into the zombie’s face, snapping her head back and throwing her off balance. Her fingers slipped from the doorway and she vanished from view as she tumbled onto the road.
Breathless, Lenore pulled Ken from the bike and doorway. “You should have shoved out the bike,” Lenore chided Ken. He clung to her, shaking as he dragged deep breaths into his lungs.
“I told him not to,” Tito said as he reloaded the shotgun.
“Why not?” Lenore demanded. “He could have died.”
“Because I need it. As soon as we find a safe spot for you, I’m taking off,” Tito said in a firm voice.
“Without you, we might die,” Ken protested.
“No. I’ll find you a safe place to hunker down. But I gotta find my family,” Tito answered.
Ken fell into a nearby chair as Lenore moved toward the driver’s seat. Her grandmother was silent, but she knew that the old woman was probably feeling much like she was.
Without Tito, they were all probably as good as dead.
18.
Losing The Knight In Shining Armor
The air outside was hot, humid, and heavy, but it was worse inside the RV. Tito, Lenore, and Ken were sweating profusely even with all the windows open. Even the breeze was hot. Grandma sat outside in a lawn chair, armed with her revolver, and watching out for any undead. Ken seriously doubted that any of the zombies would make it out into the middle of nowhere, which was their current location.
Tito had made Lenore drive for hours on back roads, farm roads, and dirt roads before finally settling on a location near the top of a hill with a good view of the surrounding area. There were trees for shade and shelter and a pond nearby that they could use for bathing, cooking and drinking. They’d have to boil the water before use, but it was better than nothing. They were miles away from the nearest highway with no towns within a thirty-mile radius.
