Free Snareville II: Circles by David Youngquist Page B

intact in Galesburg, we could use it as a delivery system for Dr. O’Shea’s zed killer juice?”
    “Yes, Sir. All we’d have to do is get there and run an inventory of what we have. I doubt there’s much left of the rifle company, but the gas passers are probably still in order. Equipment wise, that is.”
    Kenny looked at each one of us. “You up for a road trip?” he asked me.
    I looked at Pepper, then at my other troops. “Damned right, Boss.”

Chapter 10
    “Whatcha think, Boss?” The man lay in the weeds next to his leader. Heavy leather vest, ripped jeans, thick work boots weren’t the best for going concealed, but they weren’t the kind of group that relied much on stealth.
    His boss, Venom, watched Prophetstown smolder though a set of five hundred dollar binoculars. “I think someone was here, Shitter.”
    “Why’s that?” Shitter took the binoculars passed to him.
    “Look around the bridge. Lot of dead zeds. Town didn’t set itself on fire.”
    Shitter scanned the bridge deck, around the park on the other side. Smoke rose from the last building on the west side of the street downtown. A few zeds still stumbled around in town, most of them by the high school. He could see charred skin and burnt clothes on a few.
    “Who you reckon? Someone still alive in town?” He handed the binoculars back to Venom.
    “I don’t think so. Town looks too empty. If someone was still alive, it’d make sense to hole up in the school. I think someone was passing through and torched it. Trail of corpses lead through the park. Lot of empty shell casings on the road too. I think someone had to fight across the bridge.” He looked at Shitter. They both eased back down past the crest of the hill.
    “Whatcha say, Boss? We goin’ across?” Shitter asked.
    Venom walked back toward his bike. “We’re going to have to, but the bikes ain’t going to cut it. Let’s get them rolled up in the trailers.”
    They joined a group of a hundred others, dressed in whatever scraps of clothes they had. Wasn’t much to mark them as part of the same group, except for the fact they stayed together. The core of the group was a dozen members of the Mongols biker club. Many had brought their old ladies along. Those in turn found as many friends and family as they could. Others were people picked up along the way, either as captives or women gathered to add to the choice of fuck toys for the men.
    Venom banged the side of his pickup. “You was right, Hoss. Someone came this way. Figure it was your group.”
    Havers slid away from the man as far as he could in the bed of the truck. The cable locked to the dog collar around his neck didn’t allow him to go far. His arms had gone numb locked behind his back.
    “Fine, let me go then. You know which way they’re going.”
    “Oh, hell no,” Shitter said. “You need to get out now and then. You been cooped up in that rotten little town how long? Been ten years now at least.”
    “Fuck you, James.”
    Laughter rippled through the group as people pushed their bikes into the back of trailers and pickups. Havers scooted out of the way as a bike rolled into place beside him. Venom locked it in place with straps and hopped out of the bed. Havers shook his head as another couple of flies landed on the crusted blood that ran down his face. He didn’t know if the damned things wanted a snack or planned on laying eggs.
    Venom jumped into the cab of his truck. Spider, a spindly woman who seemed to be constantly in motion, waited for him in the passenger seat with a shotgun between her knees. Venom put two pistols and several magazines beside him on the seat. She grinned a wicked little smile at him as she twitched. They had traded for some meth up north and she was tweaked out quite nicely. He took a hit of his own from a joint rolled with the stuff, placed it back in the ashtray in the dash. He dropped the truck into gear as the cocktail slammed into his system. With a scream, they hit the