As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 Page 4

  “Actually, I got the code,” Rune said, realizing the purpose of the numbers the ghost had whispered. Striding over to the box, he replayed the earlier scene in his mind’s eye, trying to remember the digits. He punched in the wrong numbers three times, but the fourth time he got the combination right and the heavy gates swung open.

  “You know these people?” Tito asked curiously.

  “In passing,” Rune vaguely responded.

  Climbing back onto the bike, he drove up the driveway. The gates automatically closed behind them. He knew it wasn’t true security, but it did make him feel better.

  The house on the top of the hill was a modern structure crafted from local materials. The pink granite glowed in the setting sun and the windows flashed with light. The two-story structure was more about style than actual function. Rune could already see it would be a nightmare to defend with all the windows and multiple entrances.

  Drawing up to the front door, he scooted Charlene around so the Harley was aimed for a quick getaway. Both men climbed off and stared at the house.

  “All these windows,” Tito muttered.

  “Yep. A total bitch to defend.”

  Walking to the door, Rune began to search through the leafy green plants tucked into glazed pots, under mats, and around the raw wood patio furniture that decorated the wide front porch. He didn’t want to bust out a window if he didn’t have to. There was no point it making it easier for the zombies to get inside.

  Tito caught on to what he was doing and also searched. It took a few minutes, but they finally found the key tucked behind an outdoor light sconce.

  “Clever,” Tito said.

  “Not clever enough. We found it.”

  “True.” Tito grinned.

  Rune unlocked the front door. Cool air swirled out as a high pitched alarm started to screech.

  “Rich people. Leaving the air conditioner on while on vacation.” The alarm was easy to locate and using the same code as the gate, Rune deactivated it. “I can’t say much for their smarts. Same code.” Rune shook his head with disapproval.

  “I thought you said you knew these people.” Tito flipped his sunglasses on top of his head and narrowed his eyes.

  “The boy who lived here died on the highway. Got tore up pretty bad. He imparted some information before...passing on.”

  “You found him?”

  “He found me.” Rune shrugged. He didn’t feel like explaining himself.

  “Then he died?” Tito studied Rune thoughtfully.

  “Something like that.”

  Rune stepped deeper into the house. The front hall was massive, and traveled all the way to the rear of the house. Big arched doorways opened to the main living areas.

  “You need to tell him,” an old woman with a Mexican accent said from the shadows near the front door.

  Rune ignored her.

  Tito craned his head, peering into a large dining room. “Did he end up one of those things?”

  “Yep.”

  Rune’s boot heels clicked against the tiled floors as he searched through the living areas. Tito followed, his footsteps light as a feather. The furniture was rustic and Rune approved of the less frou-frou pieces. There was a full liquor cabinet that Rune fully intended to abuse. He whistled with delight when he spotted a gun safe in the corner of the home office.

  “This is exactly what we need,” he said, grinning at Tito. “Get you a decent piece to defend yourself.”

  Tito stood with his hands dangling at his side, a wary cast to his face. Though he sensed the man’s distrust and didn’t really blame him, Rune was too tired and pissed off to play nice. He spotted a flicker of the old woman behind Tito and grimaced. Tito glanced over his shoulder, obviously following Rune’s gaze.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just a shadow. I’m just on edge. This whole day has been fucked.” Rune skirted around the massive desk and ignored the pictures of the kid and his parents tucked in fancy frames in a line along the top of it.

  “Tell me about it. It’s been a fucking nightmare.”

  Rune studied the gun safe. “Key pad.” He pointed to it. “Watcha wanna bet it’s the same code as the gate and house alarm?”

  That brought a smirk to the other man’s face. “Man, that’s an easy bet to win.”

  Grinning, Rune punched in the code and was rewarded with the audible click of the mechanism unlocking. “Let’s see how good a Texan this fella was.”

  Tito moved closer, and Rune stepped to one side as he swung the heavy iron door open. Inside was the arsenal of a man who was a collector, not a hunter.

  “An Uzi?” Tito laughed. “Fucking’ ammo waster and they shoot like shit.”

  “Might do ya if there was a crowd of them. Probably cripple them up, but I wouldn’t expect any killing shots.”

  “I’d rather put them down than make them crawlers.”

  “Point taken.” Rune gestured to another weapon. “AK 47.”

  “Nah, the Glocks,” Tito said, gesturing to the two pistols.

  Rune removed the two weapons and set them on the desk. “I’ll split ammo with you. I’m a Glock man myself.”

  “Sounds good.” Tito fished two belt holsters out of the bottom of the safe while Rune stacked the boxes of ammo on top of the desk.

  For the next thirty minutes Rune and Tito searched through the various handguns, rifles, and automatic weapons. All were in good condition, but they were leery about some of the older weapons. Finally, Rune settled on a shotgun that brought a smile to his face.

  “I love me a Redhead,” he breathed. “Both in my shotguns and women.”

  Tito set a Remington next to the Glocks and rubbed his chin, a slight smirk on his lips. “Redheads are loca, dude.”

  “And that, sir, is why I like them.”

  “You need to tell him what you are,” the old woman whispered in Rune’s ear, a puff of cold air freezing his skin.

  Rubbing his frozen earlobe, Rune sorted out the ammunition ignoring the ghost completely. “Not as much ammo as I’d like.”

  “It’ll have to do.” Tito clipped the holsters to his belt and slid the Glocks into the sheaths. “Yeah, that’s better.”

  An uneasy silence settled upon them as they finished taking stock of their weapon options. Rune’s back prickled under the onslaught of the ghost’s presence lingering nearby.

  Rubbing his nose, he sighed. “At least we live in Texas where we actually have gun shops. Hopefully they haven’t been picked clean.”

  “It seemed to go down fast. People might not have been able to make a run on them.” Looking more at ease now that he was armed, Tito said, “I’m going to see if the TV works. See if there is news on Laredo.”

  “Power is still on for now, so might as well take advantage of that while we can.”

  “You think they’ll get this shit under control soon?” Tito paused in the doorway.

  Rune remembered his daughter’s words and sorrowfully shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

  Tito slightly nodded and disappeared into the hall.

  “You need to tell him,” the old woman persisted.

  Rune could barely make out her form in the growing shadows. He flipped on the lamp sitting on the desk, chasing the gloom away. The ghost remained, a dim outline of a woman in a flowered housecoat.

  “I know you can hear me.”

  With a sigh, Rune brushed past the ghost. In his experience, talking to a ghost only drew the attention of others in the area. With the world filling with the undead, ghosts would soon be an issue he’d have to deal with constantly. He was not looking forward to it.

  Tito stood in the family room watching a massive flat screen. The news channel continuously flashed mayhem from around the world while the ticker at the bottom scrolled with dire bulletins. It was the Texas channel, so most of the updates were about the Lone Star State. None of it was good.

  Knuckles pressed to his lips, Tito’s dark eyes surveyed the destruction of the world. His b
road shoulders tensed, he looked like he wanted to punch something. Rune paused long enough to get the gist of it, then kept walking toward a doorway that opened into the kitchen.

  “You need to tell him,” the old woman hissed angrily upon his entry into the granite and stainless steel gourmet cooking mecca.

  The copper pots dangling over the kitchen island began to swing, causing a loud racket.

  “Gawddammit,” Rune groused at the ghost.

  As the temperature dropped, the tiny old woman’s hazy form started to sharpen. “Tell him what you are!”

  Rune gave her the evilest eye he could manage and turned his back on her.

  Tito entered the kitchen, his eyes riveted to the wildly swaying pots and pans. “What the hell?”

  “Fault line, or something,” Rune grumbled.

  The old woman shifted into view, her hands clenched. A pot flew off the rack and hit the wall with a resounding thwack.

  “What the fuck!” Tito pressed a hand to his forehead. His dark eyes darted toward Rune. “Did you see that? What the hell is going on?”

  Slamming his hands down on the island, Rune stared at the pots and pans banging against each other. “It’s your mama, Tito. She’s pissed ‘cause I wasn’t going to tell you that I’m a fuckin’ medium!”

  Frightened by the commotion and obviously unsettled by Rune’s confession, Tito retreated a step.

  Rune couldn’t see the ghost anymore, but he felt her cold touch on his shoulder. Her words whispered in his mind.

  “Tito, she says it’s okay that you shot her in the head.”

  Tito paled, staggered backward, and clutched the doorjamb.

  “It was just my body. Not me,” the voice continued.

  Rune relayed the message, trying to shrug off the ghost’s icy touch.

  “I love him, but he needs to be careful.”

  “She loves you, but you gotta be careful.” Rune stepped out of the cold spot, but it followed. “And she’s mighty damn insistent on being heard.”

  “What’s her name?” Tito asked in a harsh voice.

  Rune cocked his head, heard the name, and said, “Olympia.”

  “Shit,” Tito muttered, sliding to the floor. His hands pressed together and tucked under his chin, he closed his eyes.

  “And she says you swear too much.” Rune again tried to shake off the ghostly presence, but it was persistent. “She doesn’t take no for an answer either.”

  “That’s my mama, for you.”

  Leaning over, elbows on the counter, hands cradling his head, Rune listened to Tito’s mother prattle on. Now that she had his attention, she was not going to be silenced until she had her say.

  “She says Esmeralda and the boys are alive. They made it to San Antonio and they’re with your uncle and his family at their place. The city is really bad, but where they are has been cleared. The neighborhood rallied and blocked off the roads. She says if you go in to save them, you may not make it out.”

  Nodding, Tito listened, his hand slowly sliding over his hair.

  “Esmeralda’s father is still alive in Marfa. There’s a military unit there that is fortifying the town. You should go there as soon as possible.”

  “Not without my family,” Tito snapped.

  “Tell him to go now!” The old woman’s voice was harsh.

  Rune lifted bleary eyes. Olympia stood across from him, jaw set, her dark eyes burning. The gunshot wound to her head leaked blood onto her flowered house dress.

  “I want him to live,” she said, her mouth not moving.

  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Rune said to the ghost, his voice edged with irritation.

  “Tell him,” she hissed.

  “You’re done here, ma’am. It’s time for you to go into that light and leave your son to make his own damn choices.”

  Raising his head, Tito regarded Rune through shimmering dark eyes as the older man argued with the air.

  “I don’t want him to die like I did!” Olympia’s anger and desperation tore at Rune.

  Banging his fist on the counter, Rune glowered at the ghost. “You can’t coddle him like a little boy and make him run away to Marfa when his old lady and youngins need him. My daughter and her son are dead, ma’am. I can’t save them! Let the man do what he’s gotta do!”

  The old woman shrank beneath his shouts, her body losing mass. “Then tell him I love him and to be careful.”

  “That I will do,” Rune answered. “Now...you need to move on. You can’t help him no more.”

  The ghost vanished. Seconds later, Tito scrambled to his feet and darted across the kitchen. Breathing heavily, he stared at where he had been sitting.

  “She touched you, huh?”

  Tito rubbed his shoulder. “I felt something.”

  Rune yanked open the refrigerator and regarded the beer selection. It was satisfactory. Snagging two, he shoved the door closed with his elbow and handed one of the frosty bottles to Tito.

  “Thanks, man. I need it after that trippy John Edwards shit.”

  “He’s a fraud,” Rune said darkly, strolling into the family room. “I’m the real damn thing.”

  Chapter 8

  Half a dozen beer bottles decorated the dining room table. Chips, dips, and other finger foods were set aside for the time being as the two men stared at the map they had found in the glove compartment of a big 4x4 truck in the garage.

  “Tito, any approach you take is going to be rough. I suggest coming around this way on rural roads and traveling through the south side of San Antonio. You’re going to have to cross 410 anyway you slice it, but this area is less populated and closer to your uncle’s neighborhood.”

  Tito studied the map, his finger tracing a route. “It could be bad all through here. People trying to get out of the city are going to make it rough.”

  “It’s a virtual suicide run,” Rune remarked.

  “What would you do if you were me?” His dark eyes glowered at Rune.

  “I’d do it. In a heartbeat if I knew my daughter and grandson were alive. But they’re not. Hell, I’d go with you if Lainey hadn’t made me swear not to go near San Antonio. Which tells me it’s a death trap.”

  Scratching his elbow, Tito shrugged. “I’ll die trying.”

  “I like you, man. You’re a warrior.”

  “Aztec blood in my veins,” Tito answered with a toothy grin. “Plus, born and raised a Texan.”

  “I hear ya.” Rune raised his bottle. “To the Republic of Texas. May she rise again.”

  “Amen, my brother. Amen.”

  They clinked beers.

  Using highlighters they’d found in the office, they carefully outlined a route for Tito to follow. Rune appreciated Tito’s loyalty and wiliness. Though he knew the chances of Tito safely extracting his family from San Antonio were slim, he couldn’t fault the man for trying. In fact, he would have thought less of him if he didn’t.

  In the room behind them the news anchors continued to document the end of civilization. One female anchor sobbed as she spoke. Rune glanced over his shoulder just in time to see her commit suicide on live television. Wincing, he returned his attention to the map.

  “Did she just...” Tito’s eyes widened with disbelief.

  “Yeah.” Rune lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She won’t be the only one to do it. I’m keeping a bullet for myself just in case.”

  Tito bobbed his head. “Yeah. Me too.”

  The motion lights popped on outside, a sliver of light slicing between the curtains. Both men immediately drew a weapon. Rune skirted around the dining room table and edged toward the window covers. Snagging the cloth in his fingers, he gradually drew it back, peering outside.

  Several deer lingered at the edge of the illuminated yard, their eyes glinting in the glow of the lights. Rune pulled the curtain open further, checking both sides of the yard for any sign of the undead.

  “Just a bunch of deer,” Tito breathed with relief, then his brow furrowed with conc
ern. “I wonder if the zombies will want to eat them.”

  “I gotta feeling that venison is not on their menu. Just a hunch.”

  The smaller man drifted toward another window. “Yeah, now that I think about it, they were ignoring the neighbor’s dog while tearing into its owner.”

  “PETA will probably be thrilled about that.” Rune smirked, but he was uneasy. He was glad he’d moved Charlene into the garage. If he had to make a quick getaway, he did not want to have to fight his way through a throng of those undead fuckers.

  Tito withdrew from the windows, picked up the map, folded it, and tucked it into his back pocket. “Too many damn windows in this house.”

  “I suggest we start packing up just in case we need to leave in a hurry. We probably dawdled too much as it is. And probably drank too much.” Rune stared at his beer. “Or not enough.”

  “I hear ya.” Tito walked to the doorway, paused, and stared toward the family room in the back of the house where the television was still running. The wide expanse of glass overlooking the patio and pool made Rune feel vulnerable. Tito appeared to feel the same way. “What’s with the lack of curtains in this house?”

  “No need if you live this far away from everyone else,” Rune answered. “At least they got some in the front of the house facing the road.”

  “Man, it’s spooky out here. Even if there weren’t zombies.”

  The images on the television screen continued to display images worthy of a horror film. The harried anchor people squirmed in their chairs, their tired faces and shell-shocked eyes not conveying the calm demeanor they usually projected. Rune took another swig of his warming beer as a reporter on the scene of a massive battle in downtown Houston delivered the latest volley of information from the defunct government.

  “...since there is no word from the President, Vice President Castellanos’s security has been beefed up here in Houston and there is a rumor that he’s been airlifted to Galveston Island. Houston is still under an evacuation order and the highways are clogged with people attempting to escape the chaos. The National Guard continues to battle against the...reanimates...” The male reporter stumbled over the word. He was standing on a balcony of a hotel overlooking a street swarming with undead creatures. Explosions billowed from below. He paused, listening to his ear bud. “I’m being told we need to leave the hotel immediately. Apparently the reanimates have breached the security—”