The trucks continued honking – a desperate cry for help – as I pelted down the road at my top speed. I was getting closer, but so were the zombies. The people started to shift and panic as they continued to catch up to the exposed trailers. Several threw bows and empty quivers at the zombies, which distracted a couple of them momentarily.
Now that I was closer, I noticed a quarter of the people were covered in soot and bloody bandages. Other than a few pointed sticks and clunky swords, I didn't see any weapons. The people sitting on the edge held the weapons in shaking hands as those behind them held onto their shoulders so they didn't fall off the overcrowded flatbed trailer.
I was halfway there, but four zombies were going to reach them before I did. My lungs heaved for air as I pushed for speed, trying to get close enough to throw the pipes.
Then someone jumped off the trailer.
I snarled as the middle-aged man staggered and almost fell before stumbling to the side, waving his arms and shouting at the zombies. Even if his actions hadn't already caught their attention, the bloody bandage on his leg would have lured them in like sharks.
Numerous people cried out and tried to call him back. A young man also jumped off the trailer, landing with far more grace, and ran between the injured man and the zombies. He waved his arms and shouted as he ran to the side, trying to give the first man a chance to escape. Several on the trailer threw their sharpened sticks but missed the zombies.
Without slowing, I hefted one of the pipes and whipped it forward. The foot-long piece of pipe whooshed through the air, turning end over end, and struck the shoulder of the closest zombie. The zombie was knocked off balance and fell down.
The next pipe was already airborne and slammed into a second zombie's head with a crunch that made both men pale. The third airborne missile took out another zombie, leaving just one running toward the men, unbothered by its companions' fates.
Fortunately for the injured man, the zombie was focused on the closest target, who happened to be much more agile. The first zombie staggered to its feet, but it had fallen behind and wasn't an immediate worry.
As I raced past the trailer, my sudden appearance elicited some surprised screams and attempts to scramble back into the crowd. I ignored them and charged toward the zombie trying to grab the man who was keeping just out of its reach, not bright enough to go after slower prey.
The man's eyes widened when he noticed me, and he turned to run away. On his fifth stride, his shoelace caught on a shrub, sending him tumbling to the ground and prompting more screams from behind me.
I snarled, trying to distract the zombie, but it ignored the sound and hungrily ran toward the meal scrambling backward on the dirt. I launched myself at the zombie, tackling it squarely, then pushed off with my arms to twist midair and land lightly on my feet as it skidded across the dirt. The pounding of horse hooves announced that help was almost here.
As the first zombie ran toward us, mistakenly thinking I was human, I bit back a growl and waited for it to get closer. When it was within reach, I twisted sideways and kicked it hard in the side, sending it flying into the previous zombie who had just stood up. Both went rolling through the shrubs.
A chestnut horse charged past us to intercept other zombies who'd been lagging farther behind and lure them away.
A second rider slowed down as he approached the men. "Can you make it to the Stronghold if we keep the zombies away?"
"Y-yeah," the man with an injured leg said.
The rider nodded and waited for the two zombies thrashing in the bushes to get up. He had to hold onto his horse's reins tightly as it fidgeted and pranced in place, objecting to the smell of zombie blood and my proximity.
As soon as they were standing, he waved his hat in the air and let the horse slowly trot away. Since he was the closest target, the zombies chased the horseback rider. I turned around and bestowed a frown upon the two men who froze as if they hadn't been slowly backing away from me.
"And just what the hell were you thinking?" I demanded, glaring at the older man. "Unless you're trying to claim that bandage is just hiding a skinned knee, you should be leaving the zombie foot chases to younger people like your friend. He at least had a chance of outrunning them."
The man swallowed hard as the blood left his face. His companion edged closer to him, trying to look brave, but both of them stunk of fear.
I crossed my arms. "Well? You can't tell me that you voluntarily decided to become a feral's dinner and are now petrified of the one who saved your sorry hides. And no, I'm not impressed with your stunt. Help was on the way."
A voice came from behind me. "Considering zombies almost ate them, this might not be the kind of tact they need at this particular moment. Or I think that's the word Jess tried telling me about."
I turned my unimpressed glare to Nicky. "What are you doing out here?"
"There wasn't a Runner nearby, and you know I can outrun regular zombies as easily as any cat. Besides, you were out here to protect me if I made another monumental miscalculation," she told me with a cheerful grin.
With a peeved growl, I shook myself off. "Can you escort these two to the Stronghold while I deal with the zombies I knocked out? And don't let them attempt any more games of zombie tag. They stink at it."
"As much as I'd rather insist they need as much practice as they can get, the zombie patrols would disagree," she said, pointing over her shoulder as more horseback riders cantered our way.
I shook my head and walked over to the closest unconscious zombie. There was no point in anyone else risking infection when I could easily drag the bodies to whatever trench Wyatt had mentioned. It would also give me a good excuse to avoid the crowd near the gate.
"Alright! Let's get moving!" Nicky told her two new charges. "Since you two seem to think you can outrun zombies, let's see if you can reach the gate before Trinity catches up. Last one there is zombie bait!"
I took my backpack off and pulled out a coil of rope. After making a noose, I looped it over the zombie's ankle so I could drag it more easily.
As horse hooves clopped up behind me, I turned around. The mare's nostrils flared, and she tossed her head, balking and refusing to come any closer. I crossed my arms and waited while the rider tried to convince her to come closer. He eventually gave up.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
I was about to decline, then changed my mind. "Can you ride back to the scrapyard and grab a sheet of tin? There were a few on the right with holes I can tie the rope through. It'll be easier to drag the zombies on that."
I cut a section of rope free and tossed the coil at him. His horse had excellent reflexes and promptly leapt out of the way, almost unseating her rider, who clutched at the saddle horn. The mare spun in a few circles, fighting the bit as she tried to get away from the Nightstalker's ranged attacks.
With a sigh, I said, "There was a pile of thin chain by the scrapyard gate. You'll probably need all of it."
"That might be easier," he said, trying to bring his mount to a standstill. With a sigh of his own, he turned her toward the Stronghold and gave the reins some slack. Instead of just a canter, the mare happily granted him a full-blown gallop. His hat blew off his head, where it twirled at the end of the chin straps looped around his neck.
I shook my head and picked up the coil of rope. While waiting for the rider to return, I dragged the zombie over to its slumbering companion. I was tempted to start dragging them, but the shrubs and rocks would cut through their skin, and the last thing we needed was a bunch of zombie blood spread all over the place. Using a tin sheet as a sled would prevent that.
I scanned the area. The first rider was busy collecting all the zombies that had been trailing behind the convoy, and the second one was leading two other zombies on a merry chase. The convoy had reached the gate, and people were swarming out of the buses and off the trailers.
To my annoyance, another horseback rider was helping the injured man into the saddle so he wouldn't have to walk. His leg might appreciate the break, but the lesson wouldn't sink in quite as well, and I was pretty sure my earlier lecture had bounced off deaf ears.
The rider returned with the tin sheet bouncing at the end of a chain. The mare barely even batted an ear at it, far more focused on me, remembering exactly what I was. He circled around me until the tin was near the zombies, and I rolled them onto it.
"Where is this trench?" I asked.
"It's a bit of a walk. I can take them."
"How do you plan on getting them off? They're still bleeding."
Instead of reconsidering his words, he said, "I'll cross the bridge, then go to the side until the tin and bodies fall into the trench. The chain is long enough, and if it gets stuck, I can leave it until one of our trucks drives by."
"Okay. Thanks, I guess."
"You'll be fine walking back?" When I tilted my head and gave him a long look, he hastily said, "Ah, right. Thanks for helping those men and loading the zombies onto the tin. I'll dispose of them."
He clucked to his horse, who was more than happy to leave me standing there. I watched them trot off and turned back to the Stronghold. My footsteps were slow, unwilling to approach the huge crowd that had moved inside the gate.
Nicky meandered out of the scrapyard, meeting me halfway.
"I still can't believe they gave those two men a lift back," I complained.
"They tried to give me a ride back too, but regardless of how much they insisted, their horses had a different opinion. I told them it was just the afterscent from spending so much time around you, but they were worried I had somehow been infected."
I glanced at her. "They didn't let you inside?"
"For some reason, knowing I hang around zombies didn't reassure them. They asked me to wait in the scrapyard for a while."
"And instead of staying where it was safe, you're wandering down the road again..."
"Yep. They failed to specify a time, so I'm going to assume they meant until you came back and checked my scent to ensure I wasn't infected."
"Well, you aren't infected, but some of those people are."
"Yeah, Daniel is already helping Nina pinpoint them."
I took a deep breath, once more grateful my bloodlust was almost undetectable with this many humans around. "There's some dried blood. A couple of larger injuries, but the rest smell like scratches and scrapes. Was a Stronghold overrun?"
"Sounds like it. I didn't catch any details." She gave me a pointed look. "It's been almost a year since a Stronghold was overrun. Don't you think the timing seems kind of strange?"
I muttered, "At this point, strange doesn't even begin to cover it."