through the open doorway, face slack and dead eyes locked open, torn skin hanging in sheets from his ruined neck. Bexar plunged his knife into the bridge of the man’s nose, through the nasal cavity and deep into the skull. The old man crashed onto the wooden porch.
Bexar reached into his pocket and retrieved the Surefire light and stepped into the dark store, closing the door behind him. Close to five minutes later he was finished clearing the store, confident that the old man was the only one who had been inside. Returning to the front of the store, Bexar was greeted by another corpse, an old man standing at the door and peering through the glass. Bexar walked away from the door to one of the large front windows, tapped on the glass, and shone his light at the undead man. He took the bait and stumbled away from the door. Bexar turned off the light, rushed outside and drove his heavy knife into the right temple of the second old man. The rotted body fell to the porch with a wet thump, and Bexar stepped over it to continue to the Starlight Theatre.
The restaurant and bar was also unlocked but empty. Bexar smiled, seeing that the bar had not been raided and the liquor bottles twinkled in the light cast by his flashlight. Outside Bexar was happier still to see that he’d remembered correctly and that the hotel was comprised of little cabins spread out in the area. Bexar walked north to the closest cabin and found it unlocked and empty of anyone living, dead, or otherwise. Satisfied he could safely move his family to their new accommodations, he turned and walked down the hill back towards the highway and the small hotel.
Fifteen minutes later Bexar held a sleepy Keeley in his arms while Jessie held onto his shoulder for support as they walked up the hill towards the Starlight. Once they were settled in their new cabin it took Bexar three more trips with the wheelbarrow to move the meager supplies and provisions they still had to their new cabin. The moon hung high overhead and Bexar wasn’t sure what time it was, but he felt like it was well after midnight. Back in the cabin, Bexar found his wife and daughter asleep before falling into a dream-filled fitful sleep in a chair by the door himself.
CHAPTER 15
El Paso, Texas
February 1, Year 1
The old truck sped along the Patriot Freeway northbound towards Fort Bliss, the U.S. Army installation. With the heavy concentration of abandoned vehicles and undead on the road, the thirty miles per hour that Chivo worked to maintain made it feel like they were driving at breakneck speed. As they approached I-10, the roadway became even more congested. Apollo and Odin stopped trying to shoot the undead in their path, their numbers being far too great and the team’s ammo reserves falling dangerously low. Chivo did his best to drive around as many as he could. More than a few times undead bounced across the front of the truck only to be dragged off by the grinding pavement below.
The exchange for I-10 with the flyover ramps above them looked bad, but they could see below that I-10 was much worse off than they were. The Interstate was completely clogged with abandoned cars. It looked like the undead stumbled through the cars by the thousands. Seeing such a large concentration of walking corpses draped a feeling of hopelessness across the truck and it felt like the air was sucked right out of the cab of the truck. Lindsey sobbed, her head buried in her hands. Apollo looked at her and wanted to comfort her, but he simply didn’t know how to or if she would even be OK with a pat on the shoulder from a man she just met.
With a loud thump and crash, the windshield burst into the cab of the truck. A walker had fallen off the overpass above them and slammed onto the hood of the truck, its head crashing through the windshield. Apollo, jammed against the door, had no room to draw his pistol for the jaw snapping at their hands. The glass behind their heads burst inward, the barrel of
Bexar reached into his pocket and retrieved the Surefire light and stepped into the dark store, closing the door behind him. Close to five minutes later he was finished clearing the store, confident that the old man was the only one who had been inside. Returning to the front of the store, Bexar was greeted by another corpse, an old man standing at the door and peering through the glass. Bexar walked away from the door to one of the large front windows, tapped on the glass, and shone his light at the undead man. He took the bait and stumbled away from the door. Bexar turned off the light, rushed outside and drove his heavy knife into the right temple of the second old man. The rotted body fell to the porch with a wet thump, and Bexar stepped over it to continue to the Starlight Theatre.
The restaurant and bar was also unlocked but empty. Bexar smiled, seeing that the bar had not been raided and the liquor bottles twinkled in the light cast by his flashlight. Outside Bexar was happier still to see that he’d remembered correctly and that the hotel was comprised of little cabins spread out in the area. Bexar walked north to the closest cabin and found it unlocked and empty of anyone living, dead, or otherwise. Satisfied he could safely move his family to their new accommodations, he turned and walked down the hill back towards the highway and the small hotel.
Fifteen minutes later Bexar held a sleepy Keeley in his arms while Jessie held onto his shoulder for support as they walked up the hill towards the Starlight. Once they were settled in their new cabin it took Bexar three more trips with the wheelbarrow to move the meager supplies and provisions they still had to their new cabin. The moon hung high overhead and Bexar wasn’t sure what time it was, but he felt like it was well after midnight. Back in the cabin, Bexar found his wife and daughter asleep before falling into a dream-filled fitful sleep in a chair by the door himself.
CHAPTER 15
El Paso, Texas
February 1, Year 1
The old truck sped along the Patriot Freeway northbound towards Fort Bliss, the U.S. Army installation. With the heavy concentration of abandoned vehicles and undead on the road, the thirty miles per hour that Chivo worked to maintain made it feel like they were driving at breakneck speed. As they approached I-10, the roadway became even more congested. Apollo and Odin stopped trying to shoot the undead in their path, their numbers being far too great and the team’s ammo reserves falling dangerously low. Chivo did his best to drive around as many as he could. More than a few times undead bounced across the front of the truck only to be dragged off by the grinding pavement below.
The exchange for I-10 with the flyover ramps above them looked bad, but they could see below that I-10 was much worse off than they were. The Interstate was completely clogged with abandoned cars. It looked like the undead stumbled through the cars by the thousands. Seeing such a large concentration of walking corpses draped a feeling of hopelessness across the truck and it felt like the air was sucked right out of the cab of the truck. Lindsey sobbed, her head buried in her hands. Apollo looked at her and wanted to comfort her, but he simply didn’t know how to or if she would even be OK with a pat on the shoulder from a man she just met.
With a loud thump and crash, the windshield burst into the cab of the truck. A walker had fallen off the overpass above them and slammed onto the hood of the truck, its head crashing through the windshield. Apollo, jammed against the door, had no room to draw his pistol for the jaw snapping at their hands. The glass behind their heads burst inward, the barrel of
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