Green Ice: A Deadly High (50 page)

Victor landed on the Ford on all fours and rolled across his back onto the driveway
next to Mancini.

“Go,” Mancini hissed at Victor, shoving him in the direction of the Lexus.

The remaining guy in the light blue shirt, who Mancini thought he’d heard the others call Pablo, jumped from the window. His arms flailed and he didn’t land squarely on top of the Ford. His legs hit the side of the car and smashed through the front passenger window. Pablo shrieked as his leg bent sideways at the knee, his foot stuck inside the SUV interior.

The
remaining infected around the pool area heard the scream and braced up, ready to move at speed to the front of the house.

“Shit,” Mancini spat and rounded the Ford. He grabbed Pablo by his arm and wrenched him out of the Ford.

“I think I’ve broken my leg,” Pablo wailed, attempting to stand.

“You have to try and make it to
Luiz’s car,” Mancini hissed, hauling Pablo upright. “It’s only a few yards down the track.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” Pablo grunted, wincing in pain as his leg gave way under his weight.

The sound of a vehicle engine starting indicated that Luiz, Logrono and Victor had successfully made it to the Lexus. Mancini wrapped Pablo’s arm around his shoulder and shuffled along beside the line of parked cars. He glanced to his right and saw a bunch of infected rapidly heading their way. He looked back to the gatehouse and saw Trey had almost fully opened the gates. Leticia still crouched on the roof firing off a few well aimed rounds but the infected had almost reached the small building.

Sonny had intended using the winch fixed on the back of the pickup truck to wrench open the iron gates at the front of the house. He drove up the access road and was going to spin his vehicle around in the turning area outside the gates so he could attach the winch to the railings and haul them down off their hinges. He laughed and was pleasantly surprised when he saw the gates opening in front of him as he plowed up the inclining road.

“Must have known I was coming,” he snickered to himself.

The previous owner of the pickup truck had been carrying some serious firepower in the cab with him. Sonny had been more than happy with his find.

Once again, Lady Luck had smiled on him when he’d pulled over into a deserted gas station in the beaten up old truck
he’d been left with. The engine had been misfiring badly and he doubted whether the old crock was going to make it to La Paz. He’d opened up the hood for a look at the stuttering engine when an over friendly guy, driving a bright yellow pickup truck pulled onto the forecourt beside him.

“Hey buddy, need a ride?” the big, over friendly guy, with a bushy ginger beard
, wearing oversized green combat fatigues and a blue baseball cap with a “
Dallas Cowboys
” emblem had asked, in a broad southern U.S accent.

“Why, sure,” Sonny answered.
“You from the States?”

The big guy nodded
and smiled as he got out of his vehicle. “Yup, sure thing. I’m from El Paso and I’ve been prepping for this thing for a good few years now. I said the apocalypse was coming but hell, nobody believed me. That’s why I upped sticks and moved my fat ass out down Mexico way.” The big guy laughed haughtily and opened his shirt to reveal a small Colt Mustang handgun inside a holster, strapped around his large waist. “It’s a whole lot more lenient with the kind of firearms you can carry around with you here.” 

“Hey, nice piece,” Sonny had said, smiling but reaching slowly inside the beaten up pickup truck bed for a blood stained, sharp ended wooden pole. “Got any more weapons like that?”

The big guy laughed. “Ah, sure. I’ve got a whole, god damn armory in the truck back there.” He turned his head around to his yellow pickup truck and jabbed a meaty thumb towards the cab. When his gaze turned back to Sonny, the sharpened end of a wooden stake rocketed through his right eyeball.

“Too bad all
your prepping turned to shit, huh?” Sonny mocked, standing over the felled body. “Guess when it came to crunch time, you weren’t cut out for this shit, hey Sparky?”

Sonny left the wooden pole embedded in the big guy’s head and took the Colt handgun and his wallet.

“Mr. Blake Peabody,” he read aloud, studying the Texas driving license. “Well, thank you very much for your contribution, sir.”

Sonny snickered to himself and made his way towards the Dodge Ram, yellow pickup truck. Now he could continue with his relentless pursuit of his enemies
, with the help of Blake Peabody’s extensive range of firearms and an alternative assortment of weaponry. 

Sonny had caringly loaded and laid the array of guns out in a series of organized lines across the passenger seat next to him.

Leticia heard a vehicle approaching from behind her but she didn’t have time to turn around to see who or what was heading her way. She frantically fired off round after round, hoping Trey would soon join her on the gatehouse roof. The infected gained ground and were only a few yards from the gatehouse. She’d seen Mancini and some other men leap from the upstairs window and make their way to the car parked at the furthest point from the house.

Sonny heard the crack of a semi automatic rifle and saw the girl perched on the gatehouse roof, firing on a mass of onrushing crazy heads.

“You’re fighting a losing battle right there, Baby Doll,” he scoffed.

Sonny slowed his truck slightly in front of the opening gates and selected his weapon of choice. He picked up a 9mm Uzi sub-machine gun, capable of firing six-hundred rounds per minute and sending a wall of lead at any intended target.

Mancini and Pablo reached the idling Lexus, with Luiz frantically waving them inside. Mancini fired the last of his shotgun cartridges at the encroaching infected while Victor bundled Pablo into the backseat alongside Logrono. Mancini knew it was going to be a hell of a tight squeeze for Trey and Leticia to also cram inside the interior, but once they were free of the perimeter boundary, they’d quickly transfer to the Thunderbird and get the hell out of there.

Mancini tossed the empty shotgun into the back and drew his Heckler and Koch handgun. He fired another two shots at the nearest onrushing infected. The back door clunked shut and Pablo grimaced in pain, gripping his damaged leg with his hands while sitting between Logrono and Victor.
Mancini, still with the one remaining firearm in his hand, jumped into the passenger seat alongside Luiz.

The infected closed around the Lexus and bumped their hands against the windows, their sneering
, snarling faces pressing against the glass.

“Go!” Mancini yelled.

Luiz had already engaged the transmission into reverse and hit the gas pedal. The Lexus lurched backwards at speed, throwing off some off the infected stragglers.

Trey’s arms ached as he turned the crank handle inside the closet until it wouldn’t turn any more. He breathed heavily and slumped against the closet door.

“Is that it?” he called out, glancing up at the ceiling. “Are the gates open, Leticia?”

He’d heard the rifle fire and assumed the infected were close. Stepping over the body of the infected guy he’d shot, Trey moved to the window.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, when he saw a whole crowd of infected rushing towards the gatehouse.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Sonny saw the reversing lights engage on the Lexus further down the driveway. They were deciding to make a break for it so now was the time to put a halt to their escape plans. But first, he’d have to take care of the girl on the gatehouse roof. She had a scoped rifle and would be able to pick him off once he was inside the grounds. Sonny pressed the button on the vehicle’s control panel to open his side window. He rolled the pickup truck forward a few yards so he was through the gates and directly beside the gatehouse.

“You better have that cure for this shit ready and waiting for us,” Mancini growled at Luiz.

Luiz
nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his side mirrors, while winding his way backwards along the driveway. He saw a yellow pickup truck emerge from the access road and come to a stop, slightly beyond the open gates.

“Who the hell is that?”
Luiz muttered.

Mancini turned in his seat. The pickup truck had dark tinted windows and he couldn’t see the driver.
Logrono swiveled in his seat and gazed out through the rear window.

“Keep going,” Logrono barked. “It’s probably just some idiot delivering a package. He’ll have to back up.”

Trey
pulled the Heckler and Koch handgun from the back of his waistband as he hurried to the gatehouse door. He pulled down his sleeves, trying to hide the wound on his left wrist. He had to concentrate on helping the others to escape. The rifle cracked again from above him and Trey took a deep breath before he opened the door. He instinctively aimed and fired at a few infected surrounding the gatehouse. The first few infected people leading the charge went down and Trey continued to fire until his weapon clicked empty. He fumbled in his pocket for a fresh magazine but his arms felt heavy and cumbersome after cranking open the heavy gates.

“Get up here on the roof, Trey,” Leticia yelled above him. “You don’t have time to reload.”

Trey glanced over his shoulder up at Leticia. He nodded and leapt up for the edge of the roof. He didn’t have the strength in his arms to haul himself upward and he sagged below the roofline. Leticia placed the rifle beside her and grabbed at the back of Trey’s shirt to pull him upward, out of the way of the onrushing infected.

Sonny aimed the Uzi sub-machine gun at the girl on the gatehouse roof and fired off a rapid burst of rounds.
He laughed when he saw her back arch and her head jerk backwards as several rounds ripped through her torso. She fell forward and disappeared from sight.

“Shame, she was kind of cute,” he muttered.

Now it was time to take care of the bastards in the Lexus.

Sonny pressed the button to close his window and hit the gas pedal hard.

Trey
heard a burst of gunfire and felt the rounds zipping above his head as he crawled up the stone wall. Leticia let out a wheezing rasp and suddenly rocked forward. She fell off the gatehouse roof and landed on the slab pathway in front of the door. Blood oozed around her and Trey couldn’t figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Leticia!” he squawked, enduring a rush of grief
and guilt wash over him.

Trey
clung onto the side of the roof and clawed at the stonework until his torso was over the top of the gatehouse wall. He felt the handgun slip from his waistband and heard it clatter onto the path below. Snarls and shrieks of the infected below caused him to instinctively swing his legs up and around so he was lying across the edge of the roof. Trey glanced down at the carnage beneath him and immediately wished he hadn’t. The infected crowd set about Leticia’s still warm body, ripping, tearing and biting at the flesh, until she was reduced to a mutilated, bloody pulp.

“No!
No, you fuckers, no!” Trey howled, with tears welling in his eyes.

Mancini thought he heard a burst of gunfire above the roar of the pursuing infected. He turned in his seat and saw the pickup truck accelerate at a rapid speed.

“What the hell is he doing?” Mancini yelled.

Luiz shrugged. “I got no clue but he’s going to run into us if he doesn’t slow…”

Luiz’s
words were lost amid a metallic crunching sound as the pickup truck rammed into the back of the Lexus. The car ceased traveling backwards and was rocked into the opposite direction. Nobody inside the Lexus had thought about putting on a seat belt. Mancini and Luiz jerked forward in their seats, hitting the engaged air bags face first. Victor was killed instantly when his head smashed against the metallic support between the front and rear side windows. Logrono and Pablo both pitched forward and their faces smashed into the front seat headrests.

Sonny whooped as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the pickup driver’s door. He selected another weapon from the passenger seat to accompany the Uzi.
This time he picked a German made Luger pistol that looked as though it was a relic from World War Two. Some of his weapons had slid onto the floor during the impact but he’d retrieve them later. First, there was business to take care of.

Mancini coughed out the dust in his throat that accompanied the air bag engagement. He knew he had to get out of the car but he couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. His neck hurt like hell and he felt as though his breath had been sucked out of him. He’d dropped his Heckler and Koch someplace due to the impact and he groped around either side of the deflating air bag
but couldn’t locate the firearm. He heard moans and groans from inside the car but was aware of somebody approaching from the rear and the onrushing infected from the front.