Free Plagued: The Midamerica Zombie Half-Breed Experiment (Plagued States of America) by Better Hero Army

of more people dying. It made him feel like their blood was on his hands. He had to keep reminding himself that all this would have happened whether he was here or not. Tom retreated from Peske’s co-pilot chair to sit on the side of the duck that overlooked the northern path by which the hunters had travelled. Like everyone else, he waited and watched, listening to the occasional noises of the forest.
    Penelope chuffed behind him. He turned to look at her. Her hazy blue eyes were aglow in the moonlight. It was an eerie sight to say the least. She chuffed again, and he could swear she was trying to say “here”. He moved closer to her cage to listen better. She pointed at him, then toward the front of the boat and chuffed again, and he distinctly heard her say “here”.
    “They’re here?” Tom asked. Penelope nodded. “The hunters?” Again she nodded. Tom stood and moved to the front of the boat, shaking Peske. “I think they’re here,” Tom said. Peske squinted into the darkness ahead.
    “I don’t see anything,” Peske was saying, then there were two flashes clicked their direction. “Shit, that’s the sign,” Peske said, fumbling for a flashlight on the dashboard. He clicked it several times in the direction of the blinking light.
    “Sign?”
    “If we were overrun, we wouldn’t be able to sign them. They’d know to high-tail it back out of here.”
    “You know, all these rules you and your zombie hunter friends take for granted would be good information for the rest of us. It might make that idiot Tyler a little less a thorn in our sides to impart your wisdom now and again.”
    “Shut the hell up and help me with the flood lights,” Peske replied.
    They were underway before any zombies appeared. Only four men came back with fuel, enough to get them into town. The other men were on the rooftop of the gas station, waiting. Peske drove in and they finished siphoning the underground tanks directly into the duck. They brought along all the extra fuel they could take with them and were on the road again cruising slowly through an old abandoned town. Cars were parked irregularly, some in spaces, others driven onto the sidewalks where they had been abandoned. The vehicles had all been vandalized to one degree or another. Tires taken, windshields, entire seats, hoods thrown open, light fixtures removed. Everything looked like it belonged in a salvage yard.
    Leaving town they returned to the highway and continued north over a decaying road. The potholes and rough patches made their progress slow, but even Tom was able to lie down and sleep for a few hours while it was still dark.

Seventeen
    Dawn brought them to the edge of a wide lake. It was ringed by a thick forest that had consumed an old town. Peske drove up to the water’s edge, a road that just led into the wide lake. He let the engine idle as he unfolded a map. Tom stretched and stood. His body was sore all over, his eyelids felt like sandpaper.
    “What lake is this?” Tom asked the hunter Mike, who was standing behind Peske.
    “Lake?” Mike replied. “That’s the old Mississippi River,” he said with a chuckle. Tom was just a boy when they diverted it, making the great flood wall around the Plagued States.
    “No, you can’t take the highway east,” Peske was telling Hank. “Bridge collapsed.”
    “West puts you through the washouts,” Mike put in. “We usually go straight across,” he added, pointing at the water. Hank looked up and saw the remnants of another town about three miles away on the other side of the lake.
    “What about doubling back to here?” Hank asked, pointing out a junction they had passed earlier.
    “We could try,” Peske said thoughtfully. “It’ll add two or three hours, and I don’t know where we’ll be able to ford the river.”
    “Can’t we just put people in the rowboat again?” Hank asked.
    “I told you,” Peske snarled “We broke the main float weeks ago. I’ve been stuck on the Hill waiting