Chapter Thirty Five
Edward tried to make it look all the way up until the last second like he was going to ram Horton’s truck head on, then let off the gas and swerved to the left. Unfortunately, it looked like Horton had been expecting that. The trucks almost passed each other, but Horton turned right into Edward’s truck and sliced across its side with the cowcatcher. Edward fought the instinct to hit the brake and instead tried to correct the truck’s path as it swerved with the impact. The truck teetered on two wheels, looking for a moment like it could go either way, and then tipped to its side. Edward threw himself across the seat and over Liddie just as the windshield shattered and showered his back with shards. He yelled obscenities when the truck tipped again as it continued to slide, throwing both him and Liddie to the ceiling. He could feel one of his arms break as Liddie’s full weight fell on it, but he didn’t scream. There was pain, but it wasn’t as much as he thought there should have been. Maybe that was one of the advantages of being a Z7. He still had a zombie’s tolerance for pain.
Somewhere outside he could hear the other truck screech to a halt, followed by the sound of doors opening and slamming and someone, possibly Horton, yelling orders. Edward let Liddie go, and she immediately started moving as though she were trying to stand up while upside down. In any other situation it might have been funny. Edward tried to help her, but her movements were too frantic and confused for him to get a good hold on her.
“Damn it, Liddie, stop squirming around for a second so I can help you. You can’t stand up when you’re upside down.”
She stopped, and he was able to get her into a better position. “Okay, look,” he said. “Just stay put, you got that? Don’t try to move. Whatever you see out there, whatever you hear…and yeah, whatever you smell, don’t try to get out. Do you understand?”
She didn’t give any sign whether she understood or not, but he didn’t have time to reiterate the point. He worked his way out the broken window and took stock of the situation. The truck was between him and Horton, so at the very least he had some cover for the moment. He got to his feet, being sure to stay crouched very low and out of sight, and looked around for the rifle he’d thrown in the back of the truck. It could have been thrown clear from the road, for all he knew, but as he made his way around the side of the truck he found that he’d gotten lucky for a change. The rifle was poking out from under the bed of the truck, and although it looked scratched up it didn’t otherwise look damaged. He grabbed it and gave it a looking over as he made his way to the tailgate. It seemed to be a similar model to Rae’s custom rifle back in Fond du Lac, so he thought he could operate it if needed even with the broken arm. He listened carefully for the sound of anyone coming, but Horton’s truck had stopped some distance away. Edward could hear Horton yelling orders at one other person, but it didn’t sound like they’d come any closer. He poked his head around the side of the truck but immediately pulled it back as someone shot at him.
“Listen up, pervert!” Horton yelled. “Just step away from the truck real slow, and maybe we won’t shoot you like you deserve.”
“Horton, all we want to do is leave,” Edward said. “There doesn’t have to be any issue between us.”
“No issue? Listen wanderer, Ritchie already reported back to me about what he saw you doing to that zed. We don’t tolerate any of that kind of sick shit around here. And you have to be crazy if I’m going to let a zed leave my town if it’s not in pieces. In fact…”
There was another shot, and Edward had no idea what he was shooting at until he heard the body fall behind him. He turned to see Liddie on the ground. Most of her head was gone.
“Liddie!” he screamed. “Oh my God, Liddie!” He ran to her, forgetting to keep low and out of the line of fire, but Horton didn’t shoot again. Edward kneeled next to her and, ignoring the gore and brain matter that smeared all over his coveralls, clutched her body close to his. He looked into the ruins of her skull, searching for any hope that the shot hadn’t been the killer Horton thought it was, but there was no way. She was gone for good this time, and no old man in the middle of Illinois could possibly do anything to bring her back.
“Shit, you crying over there?” Horton yelled. “You better cut that bullshit out. You’ve got to be seriously warped in the head if you actually care that much about a corpse. You better step out from behind the truck real slow now, or else we’re going to come over there and make you step out.”
Edward went quiet. He held Liddie’s body for a few more second before he softly lowered her. One of her eyes had been blown from its socket by the bullet, but the other was still there and still open. He closed it.
“Wanderer, Goddamn it, you have to the count of three to surrender your fucking ass,” Horton said. “You hear me? One!”
Edward wiped what he could of Liddie’s brains from his coveralls, then wiped away the tears that had been forming at the corners of his eyes. He stood up without saying anything.
“All right, that’s good,” Horton said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Now drop the rifle and slowly get your ass over here.”
Horton’s truck was about fifty or sixty yards away and parked lengthwise across the center of the highway. Horton and Bert stood next to the truck with their rifles up and ready to fire. Neither of them took refuge behind the truck. They probably didn’t expect Edward to give them any trouble anymore. Edward walked toward them, not moving in any hurry but not taking it slow, either.
“Hey, I told you to drop the fucking gun!” Horton said. “Drop it now or we’ll drop you!”
Edward didn’t think twice as he threw the rifle out off the road. He didn’t need it anyway.
“Okay then, now just hold up and stop right there so I can send Bert to check if you have any other weapons.”
“I’ve got a weapon,” Edward said softly. “But I’d just like to see you try taking it from me.”
Bert gave Horton a puzzled look. “What did he just say?”
Horton shook his head. “I said stop!”
“And I said take if from me!” Edward said. He sped up, not quite moving at a jog but very clearly heading straight for Horton.
“Hell with this,” Horton said, and he pulled his trigger. The bullet hit Edward square in his chest. Unlike with his arm, he really felt this pain. All of a sudden all his breaths burned, and he thought he could feel air escaping from the gaping wound as he broke out into a flat run. But even without being able to properly breathe, Edward kept moving. It was easier than he’d expected. After all, he’d been practicing moving without breathing for almost fifty years.
“What the fuck!” Horton yelled as Edward jumped the last few feet toward him. Bert tried to shoot Edward, but the shot missed completely. Neither of them were prepared for this move, just like Horton wasn’t prepared for the next one. He brought the rifle up to ward off Edward’s attack, but the move left his hand exposed. That was all Edward had wanted anyway.
Horton screamed, more out of shock than pain, as Edward bit him. He dropped the rifle, but Edward grabbed it before it could hit the ground.
“Bert,” Horton screamed, “shoot this crazy son of a bitch!”
“I can’t,” Bert said. “He’s too…”
Edward turned around and shot Bert in the leg. Bert himself screamed and dropped to the pavement. The rifle fell out of his hands and Edward ran to take it before Bert could come to his senses and go for it again. Once he had both guns Edward stepped away from them both. He didn’t even bother to aim the weapons in a threatening manner.