Rotter World: Rotter Nation Part 16

Natalie kept up a continuous barrage against the horde, even though the vibrations from the machinegun rattled every part of her body. The bullets cut through the heads of the living dead like a scythe, blasting them away or ripping them from their bodies. Chunks of body parts flew through the air, generating a cloud of gore. The insects feeding off of the dead flew in every direction, some swarming around Natalie. As the decapitated corpses collapsed to the deck, those to the rear moaned and surged forward, stumbling over the bodies or maneuvering around them. None, however, got to within ten feet of her. A semicircle of living dead formed around the gun mount. When no rotters remained standing, Natalie dropped the angle and swung the machinegun to the right and left, strafing the pile. Bullets thudded into lifeless bodies. She kept up the attack to make certain none of them survived.

The thoughts that flowed through her mind had nothing to do with stopping the rotters, focusing instead on what the zombie apocalypse had taken from her. Her previous life. Her family. Her fiancee. Her innocence. Her home at Fort McClary. And now Mike, the only other man she had ever loved and who she would probably never see again because of that d.a.m.n vaccine. Everything she had known and loved had been ripped away from her. Twice. In less than a year. By this f.u.c.king plague of the living dead and the a.s.sholes who took advantage of the outbreak. She hated the latter more than the living dead. The rotters couldn't control themselves and didn't know better. f.u.c.k them. f.u.c.k this. f.u.c.k everything. She should just take her fingers off the f.u.c.king trigger and let them overwhelm her and end this f.u.c.king nightmare.

The sound of her name being called snapped her back to reality. Only then did she notice that the .50 caliber had jammed, yet she still pressed her thumbs down on the trigger mechanism and swept the gun across the pile of dead. She concentrated on the voice.

"Natalie?" yelled Sandy. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"We're ready. You need help?"

"No. I'll be right there."

Stepping away from the gun mount, Natalie waded through the gore spread across the deck. It looked as though the viscera drain of a slaughterhouse had vomited forth its contents. She crossed over to the port side of the pilothouse where there were no corpses, made her way to the stairs, and descended to the main deck. Sandy and Tiara waited by the access ladder. The concern on their faces was evident as she approached.

"Is everything all right?" asked Sandy.

"No. And it won't be ever again." Natalie crawled over the gunwale and boarded the yacht. She saw the three rotter corpses sprawled on the deck.

Jesus Christ, is there anything these f.u.c.kers won't ruin?

Ari stepped out of the flying bridge. "We're all set to go."

"Good. Get us as far away from here as possible." Natalie continued below deck without saying another word. By the time Ari pulled away from the cutter and headed back out to sea, Natalie had crashed in her cabin and fallen sound asleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

Price sat on the edge of his desk and stared at the map taped to his office wall, the one that followed deader activity since that convoy had pa.s.sed through the area two weeks ago. It confirmed his fears. When those a.s.sholes drove through Barnston, they attracted the attention of half the town's deader population, which followed the convoy west. He already had to send out several hunting parties to clean out the surrounding area. That didn't even take into consideration the pack of runners that had attacked them just the other day. According to his recon patrols, several hundred of these things prowled the woods and back roads between Barnston and the facility. His people didn't have much ammunition left, and this would put a severe drain on their resources. They would probably spend the next month making the area safe again, until some other group of a.s.sholes f.u.c.ked it up.

In hindsight, he wished the raiding party he had sent out to track the convoy hadn't destroyed the compound they found in Maine. From what they told him, it was much nicer and more secure than the one he had here. They could have lived much more comfortably, eliminated the extra mouths to feed by not having to maintain the Line, and been better protected from deaders and rivals. Plus, it would have been the ideal payback to those f.u.c.kers for murdering his people and ruining what he had worked so hard to create. Under the circ.u.mstances, he didn't blame his guys for what they did. He blamed himself. He had sent the raiding party out under Kingston's command knowing they would go medieval on whoever they came across. If he had put Carter in charge, then saner heads would have prevailed and right now they'd be living in the better compound.

No matter. What was done was done. He had kept them alive this long, and through situations a lot worse than this.

The knocking on the door broke Price's concentration. "What is it?"

One of the sentries stuck his head in. "You wanted to be told when Carter got back. He's pulling through the gates now."

"Thanks."

By the time Price made it outside, Carter had parked the Hummer H3 in front of the office. Three men climbed out and headed back to their quarters. Carter exited from the driver's side and tossed the keys over the hood to his boss. Price caught them, aimed them at the vehicle, and pressed the door lock b.u.t.ton. The headlights flashed and the alarm beeped twice.

Carter chuckled.

"What?" asked Price.

"You always set that d.a.m.n alarm."

"Force of habit." Price hid his frustration and slid the keys into his pocket. "Did you get rid of the body?"

"We took her a mile down the road and threw her into a drainage ditch."

"No proper burial?" Price asked sarcastically.

"The b.i.t.c.h took her own life, so that's good enough for her. Besides, I didn't want to expose my men too long and get attacked by deaders."

"Are there a lot out there?"

"No more than usual. Most of the ones we're finding now are those traveling across the countryside. If we went into the woods to hunt them down, we could clear the area quicker."

Price shook his head. "I considered that, but it's too risky. I don't want any of our guys getting overrun by deaders. We can't afford to lose any more manpower. It's safer if we just sit tight and let them come to us. Which reminds me, we're going to take a chance soon and make a supply run to get more ammunition."

"s.h.i.t. We've cleaned out every gun store in a fifty mile radius."

"It's a shame that a.s.shole Kingston didn't loot the compound in Maine before he torched it. I bet they had a good stockpile."

"Excuse me!"

Price and Carter saw one of the camp followers race up to them. Price knew she worked in the kitchen, but couldn't remember her name. "I'm in the middle of a conversa-"

"You need to come quickly."

"Why?"

"There's trouble in the kitchen."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

The women had almost finished breakfast detail. Tracey planned the next meal while Lisa and Karen cleaned up, with Lisa washing the utensils in the cooking pot of boiling water while Karen dried them. Cindy sat in the corner amusing herself while Windows prepared a plate for the old man.

A commotion took place by the sliding door. Three latecomers stood at the entrance.

"Breakfast was over two hours ago," Lisa said.

"We're not here for breakfast. We're here for dessert."

The voice sent a chill down Windows' spine. It belonged to Kingston, the a.s.shole who had raided Fort McClary and butchered her friends. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him standing in the center of the doorway. Behind him and to the left stood Rogen, the most s.a.d.i.s.tic son of a b.i.t.c.h in the compound. To the right, Earl stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, trying to hide the ma.s.sive bulge between his legs.

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? We don't have desser-"

Kingston slapped Lisa across the face. "Shut up, you stupid c.u.n.t." He pointed to the corner where Cindy sat. "I'm talking about her."

Rogen sneered. "Now that her momma's dead, she's fair game."

"Yeah." Earl ma.s.saged the erection through his jeans.

Windows glanced at Cindy, who had curled up in the fetal position, shaking in fear.

Kingston grabbed Lisa by the hair and yanked her close so their faces were only inches apart. "You got a problem with that?"

"N-no."

"I didn't think so." Kingston whipped his hand to the side, throwing Lisa against the wall. She yelped. "Everyone out so we can be alone with the girl."

Lisa bolted for the exit, hiding her head in shame. Karen went next, pausing long enough to see if Windows would follow. When Windows refused to move, Karen disappeared around the corner.

Kingston took a step toward Windows. "I said, get the f.u.c.k out of here."

"No!" Windows summoned every ounce of courage she could. She knew she would die in the next few minutes, but she would hurt them as much as she could, and maybe take their minds off of Cindy for a few minutes.

Dear G.o.d, don't let me suffer too much.

"What?" The menacing tone in Kingston's voice made her blood run cold.

"I'm not going to let you hurt Cindy."

Earl stepped forward. "And just what the f.u.c.k do you think you can do to stop-"

Windows kicked Earl in his erection, generating so much pain he couldn't even cry out. He dropped to his knees, his hands clutching his crotch and tears streaming down his cheeks. Windows kicked out again. This time the heel of her boot caught him in the bottom half of his face. The crack of shattered bones reverberated off the walls, and bits of broken teeth and blood splattered the floor. Earl fell backwards. His gasp for air made a gurgling sound as blood filled his mouth.

Windows didn't see Kingston throw the punch until it connected with the side of her head. She felt the blow, the bolt of pain shoot through her body, and then everything went fuzzy. She had a vague sense of falling until someone grabbed her by the back of her shirt, lifted her up, and slammed her chest first onto the table. That jarred her back to consciousness. Windows felt one hand wrap around the back of her neck and press her throat into the tabletop, pinning her down. A second grabbed the back of her trousers and started to rip them off.

"Knock it off!" She recognized the voice as Kingston's.

"You gonna let the b.i.t.c.h get away with what she did to Earl?"

"f.u.c.k that. Do you really want to waste a good load on that s.k.a.n.k when we have virgin p.u.s.s.y here?" Kingston stepped over to Cindy and reached out for her. She shoved his hand away and scooted into the corner. Kingston grabbed her by the hair and lifted her into a standing position. The little girl screamed, as much from fear as pain, and began to wail. "Clear the table. And make sure she watches this."

Rogen lifted Windows off the table, dragged her to the center of the unit, and forced her to her knees. Grabbing her by the top of her head and her jaw, he forcefully turned her face in the direction of the table. When Windows refused to open her eyes, Rogen yanked on her hair, forcing her to watch. Kingston had Cindy bent over the table like Windows herself had been a few moments before. He dropped his trousers and shorts down around his ankles, grabbed the little girl's pants, and started to pull them down her legs.

Rogen leaned over close to Windows' ear. "Enjoy the show, wh.o.r.e. We're gonna tap us some nice virgin p.u.s.s.y. And because you tried to stop us, later tonight we're gonna g.a.n.g.b.a.n.g the living f.u.c.k out of you."

Windows could not watch the scene because of the tears welling up in her eyes. At first she thought the blur on her left was unshed tears, until she heard Kingston let out a painful huff. She closed her eyes tight, squeezing out the tears, and reopened them. Meat had raced into the room and body checked Kingston, sending him flying into the wall where he sat against the wall, dazed and confused. The force of the blow had also knocked Cindy onto the floor. She seemed all right and scurried under the table for safety. Meat grabbed the cooking pot of boiling water, grunting as the hot metal seared his skin, and emptied the contents onto Kingston. Kingston screamed in agony and thrashed around. Windows smirked as she saw the blisters well up on his face and exposed genitals.

"You fat f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Rogen released Windows and charged at Meat. Meat spun around, swinging the cooking pot in a wide arc that connected with Rogen's head. Windows heard the crunching of bone even over the other sounds in the room. When Rogen collapsed to the floor, his skull had been crushed, with the entire left side of his head caved in.

Meat dropped the cooking pot and flexed his hands, grimacing from the pain. He only concentrated on himself for a second. Crouching down, he reached out to Cindy with a hand raw and covered with blisters.

"Come on, kid."

Cindy backed against the wall, lifted her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.

Rather than get mad, Meat showed uncharacteristic kindness. "It's okay. No one's gonna hurt ya anymore. I promise."

Cindy looked to Windows, and the woman nodded her approval. The girl got on her hands and knees and emerged from under the table, with Meat coaxing her along. When she reached him, Meat placed a hand on her cheek, then jerked it back and shook it to ease the pain. He smiled, not the s.a.d.i.s.tic grin Windows had grown used to, but one of actual tenderness.

"Everything'll be okay."

The three of them all turned to the commotion at the entrance. Lisa ran into the room and gasped. Price and Carter followed a few seconds later.

"Okay. What's the trou... Jesus f.u.c.king Christ." Price looked around the unit, aghast. "What the f.u.c.k happened?"

Meat stood up and wrapped one arm around Cindy's shoulder, careful to make sure the palm of his hand didn't touch anything. "These a.s.sholes tried raping mah girl."

"Your girl?" The way Price said it sent an ominous chill down Windows' spine.

"Yeah."

"And you did all this to them?"

"No. Just Kingston and Rogen. I don't know who f.u.c.ked up Earl."

"That would be me." Windows mustered as much defiance as she could and faced Price. "I was defending Cindy."

Price glared at her, his face devoid of emotion. She could tell from the iciness in his stare that he wished her harm. He finally averted his gaze to Meat. "Take these two back to your quarters. Wait there until you hear from me."

"Yes, sir." Meat headed for the door, ushering Windows along. She fell in behind him, grateful to be alive, and even more grateful that Cindy had not been harmed, though she knew the emotional scars would run deep.

What lay in store for her, though, was far from certain.

Price waited until the others had left and turned his attention to Lisa. "Take Earl to his quarters, and then come back in thirty minutes and clean up this mess."

"Yes, sir." The young woman raced over to Earl and helped him to his feet. The man groaned when he tried to straighten up, winced, and doubled over. Placing his arm over her shoulders, she walked him outside.

While Lisa escorted Earl out, Carter walked over and knelt beside Rogen, placing two fingers on his carotid artery.

"How is he?" Price asked.

"He's dead."

Price motioned to Kingston. "What about him?"