Love in an Undead Age, A.M. Geever [best contemporary novels txt] 📗

A burst of red caught Connor’s eye. He recognized it immediately: a flare. Relief surged through him. The flare’s incandescent glow was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

“Thank God.”

Doug started to laugh. “I should know by now that God is always good, but sometimes”—he motioned at the sea of zombies surrounding them—“it’s hard to hold on to.”

They had lost track of the others. Doug had seen them saddling up before he jumped from the second-story window ledge ten minutes ago. They hadn’t been able to see anything since, with hundreds of zombies surrounding them and nightfall approaching. The ground was slick and uneven, churned by hundreds of feet to the consistency of sticky taffy. Even with Jeremiah and his immunity-produced zone of protection, it had been slow going.

They turned south, toward the flare. Slowly, zombies moved out of their way. Occasionally one would lunge toward them before jerking back. Connor’s heart leaped into his throat every time. He had often imagined what it would be like to walk by zombies undetected or unharmed, thinking it would be liberating, but this was one of the most harrowing journeys he had ever taken.

They stepped into the red halo of the flare’s burning light. The zombies ahead of them began to move to either side of the three men, then spilled back out into the horde like a riptide. A section of chain-link fence blocked the gap between the corners of two buildings, the flare tied to its top rail. The hastily erected fortification from some poor bastard’s doomed last stand was rusty, ten feet tall, and in poor repair. The much smaller building on the right had “N.S. 2 Annex” stenciled on a metal service door. Connor couldn’t tell what the other building was and didn’t care. All he cared about were the people on the other side of the fence, three figures on horseback about fifteen feet from the fence in the area between the buildings. The two outer figures turned their horses sideways for a moment, almost perfectly synchronized. They turned away again.

Standing guard, Connor thought.

Mario rode into the light of the flare. “Imagine meeting you here. Let’s make this fast; the horses are getting spooked.”

“Tie him to me and I’ll climb up with him,” Doug said to Connor.

Connor balked. “I lost him; I’ll bring him over.”

“You have more than redeemed yourself.”

Connor shook his head. He wanted to set things right. “There’s no way—”

“Will one of you get over the goddamn fence?” Mario said, sounding short on patience.

As if on cue, one of the horses darted away from the buildings behind Mario. Connor could see Miranda’s silhouette hacking at a zombie.

Doug held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, you win.”

After helping Connor with the short rope tethering him to Jeremiah, Doug scampered over the fence like a squirrel. Despite the quickness of his climb and descent, the surrounding zombies became even more riled up. They pressed against the fence on either side of Connor and Jeremiah. Connor looked up at the rusty bolts holding the fence in place, then shook it off. They would hold or they wouldn’t.

“Here’s how we’re doing this,” Connor said to his captive. Still gagged, Jeremiah glowered at him. “If you decide to jump off, Doug will shoot you. I’ll die too, but I don’t care anymore,” Connor said, surprised to find that he meant it. He was tired of chasing this asshole, tired of the mission, tired of the constant struggle for what constituted a normal life anymore.

“Got it?”

Jeremiah nodded.

Connor waited until Jeremiah had the toes of both his feet stuck into the fence before starting to climb next to him. The metal mesh chilled Connor’s fingers. More clatter of horse hooves. Both Miranda and Seffie rode out to kill zombies coming from the far side of the buildings. As soon as they were seven feet up, the zombies below rushed the fence. It swayed, but not terribly. Connor pushed away the spike of anxiety. The fence only had to hold for another sixty seconds.

Connor straddled the top of the fence, one leg on either side. When Jeremiah was halfway down, Doug caught him by the waist. Connor flipped his left leg over the fence, perching on the top rail to get his balance before jumping down.

The sky filled with a bright-yellow flash, followed by a thundering explosion from the town below.

What the fuck?

An ominous metal creak scraped against Connor’s ear. The fence pitched forward. But instead of throwing him over to safety, he tumbled backward, as if he had hit an eddy line in a river while sitting on the side of a raft.

The sensation of falling, the sick realization that he was going the wrong way, flashed through Connor’s brain as he grabbed for the fence. Another explosion lit up the sky. Shouts and screams from the others, the clatter of hooves. Then the rope strung through his belt loops pulled him up short.

Cold hands clutched him. Connor thrashed, twisting away, trying to catch the fence with his hands. He kicked his legs, breaking one free. His instinctive reaction made a liar of him: he did care if he died. He cared very much.

Connor looked through the fence. Doug was almost to the top shouting, “Don’t cut that rope!” Mario had jumped from his horse. His good arm was wrapped around Jeremiah’s neck, pinning him to the slanting fence. Seffie and Miranda rode toward them. A crack, like a gunshot, then the fence tipped even more.

“Grab my hand!” Doug shouted, reaching for him. Connor swiped and missed. He tried again. Doug’s strong hand clapped around his wrist. Doug pulled, but Connor felt cold fingers catch his other arm.

Connor looked over his shoulder at the frenzied pack of zombies, then up at Doug. If they didn’t free him quickly, Doug would be pulled down, too.

Two more thunderous explosions came in quick succession. “They’re shelling the town,” someone cried.

Connor looked at Doug. “Cut the rope!”

Doug’s blue eyes flashed with determination. “Not yet.”

Connor wrested his arm free and caught Doug’s arm, but now they had his boots. He glimpsed Miranda on the ground. She had something in her hands. Seffie stood next to her horse, reins held tight. She had backed the alarmed animal’s flanks against the fence where it was breaking free, trying to hold it in place. Gunshots rang out, so close Connor’s ears rang. Then his feet were free. Doug wrenched him up. His boots found purchase against the metal mesh. Then he and Doug fell to the ground with a thud.

More explosions rocked the valley below. Connor climbed to his feet, adrenaline-induced tremors racking his frame. His ears buzzed and rang. The screech of twisting metal sounded far away.

Doug and Jeremiah were mounted up together. Mario and Miranda seemed to blur together as they shoved Connor up on a restive horse that stamped and pulled. Connor looked over his shoulder, trying to find Seffie. Nausea overwhelmed him. Seffie was still on the ground, fighting to mount her frightened horse before the fence collapsed.

Another bolt popped out of the fence’s moorings, whizzing past Connor’s head. Seffie’s horse bolted and the fence lurched, the top rail four feet from the ground.

Connor wheeled his horse around. As soon as the horse’s front hooves hit the ground, it balked, refusing to go forward.

More shells exploded in the valley behind him. Seffie sprinted for Connor. The fence crashed to the ground. Connor leaned down, hand outstretched, kicking his horse’s sides in a vain attempt to make it go toward the imperiled woman.

“Sef, take my hand! Come on!”

The flare tied to the fence began to pop and spit as water on the ground pooled around it. The chain-link mesh rattled as zombies spilled into the space between the buildings, only feet behind Seffie. Her face lit up from another exploding shell in the town below. She looked over her shoulder and stumbled. When she turned back, Connor could see the realization in her eyes.

She was too far away.

Seffie waved Connor on, urging him to leave. Connor couldn’t hear her voice but could just make out what she said by reading her lips in the guttering light of the flare.

I’m sorry.

The horse hit its limit as the dying flare’s twinkling pink reflection on the slick black concrete winked out. It turned and bolted after the others.

Connor ducked low against the horse’s neck, its musky sweat penetrating the odor of rotting corpses. Icy needles of rain stung his face. He gave the horse its head and followed the others.