Free Payload by RW Krpoun Page B

as they moved parallel to the Interstate. “We’re running low on bug spray,” JD reported as they halted to study the vehicles.
    “Yeah, climate control is looking good,” Marv admitted. “So is getting the hell out of this mud pit. This point looks good for the diversion group. We’ll vehicle shop at the north end-even if we find a good one here, we’ll never get it back up the road.”
    “There we go.” As the Gnomes reached the north end of the blockage JD pointed. “Right there, looks like an Entegra Coach Aspire. If it’s the forty-three footer, that’s two hundred grand worth of comfort.”
    “Looks brand-new,” Doc commented.
    “No visible damage, tires look inflated, side door is open,” Marv said, half to himself. “The area is clear enough to back out with a little effort-why is it there?”
    “One way to find out,” Dyson grinned.
    “The RV is nice, but there’s real prize,” Bear pointed to a pick-up with a company logo on the door which was embedded in a hybrid a bit south of the RV.
    “A work truck?” Captain Jack said.
    “A roofer’s truck,” Bear corrected. “Looks like all the tools are still in it. You ever seen a roofing hammer?”
    “Yeah,” Marv grinned and nodded.
    “What is special about a roofing hammer?” Doc asked.
    “It’s a hammer with a long hatchet blade instead of the claw on a claw hammer, usually about four to six inches longer that regular hammers, too. Ought to be just right for cracking zombie skulls.”
    “The hatchet side isn’t quite sharp,” Marv added. “More like a chisel, they use it to split shingles.”
    “Let’s get this done,” Doc suggested, batting at the cloud of mosquitos around his head. “These things will drain me dry once the Cutter’s starts to fade.”
     
    “All right,” Marv and the rest of Group Two knelt by the concrete divider on the south-bound lanes. “We go for the RV. I’ll clear it, JD gets it fired up, Doc and Dyson keep watch. Once we know if the RV is a go or no-go, we hit the roofing truck.” A sudden spatter of gunfire erupted to the north and east. “There’s our cue. Nobody move too fast, the zeds will need time to react to Group One.”
    Staying low, Group Two eased up on the northern end of the blockage, every sense straining. To the north the shooting had quickly tapered off to the occasional single shot, but they could hear yelling and the rattle of metal on metal, and once a fiery explosion.
    “There’s the RV, facing south. Door to the west; Dyson cover west, Doc east. JD follow me.”
    The RV loomed over them as they closed, a tall, gleaming rectangle in white, black, and pale blue with tinted windows that blindly reflected their surroundings. Up close, a scattering of shell casings, three discarded empty speed loaders, blood splatter, a head-shot zombie, and a stainless Colt Python lying on the roadway told part of the story: at least one occupant had dismounted the vehicle and engaged the infected, getting one before being overwhelmed and infected.
    Dyson opened the Python’s cylinder and dumped out six empty shell casings. Shrugging, he tucked the weapon into the back of his belt, and gathered up the speed loaders
    The interior of the RV was brand-new, and free of the living or the infected; Marv did a safe-clear first, then worked his way back, checking cabinets as JD sat at the steering wheel, owner’s manual in hand.
    “How’s it look?” Marv kept his voice low, watching for movement in the frozen traffic jam south of them.
    “Keys in the ignition, three-quarters of a tank, battery is good. Let me work out the controls for the three backing cams, and we’ll be ready to rock. There’s a GPS system and a CB as well. What does it look inside?”
    “Brand new-still has factory stickers on appliances. Only things that didn’t come from the dealership are three pieces of luggage, the sheets on the bed, and a case of water in the fridge.” Marv rooted in the pockets on the sides of