Down the Road: The Fall of Austin by Bowie Ibarra Read Free Book Online Page A

Roland, no offense meant, but you should
ride in the back.”
    He scowled, offended anyway. But Mike’s idea
was the safest, considering the situation.
    “We should go now,” Roland conceded.
    They went to their vehicles.
    The girl’s boyfriend was attacking Mike’s
cruiser, trying to get to her. The boyfriend wasn’t attempting to
lift the handle, he was just clawing away at the window as if
trying to scrape and peel little bits of glass away to get at his
lover. Mike placed a front kick into his chest, knocking the crazed
man out of the way.
    Mike threw open the door.
    “Please uncuff me,” Charlie said.
    Mike paused. But as the boyfriend rose from
the ground, Mike whipped out his keys and uncuffed Charlie. Charlie
clambered into the back seat with the girl. Mike front-kicked the
boyfriend again.
    “Derek, get in!”
    “But I’ve got my—” Derek started to say.
    “Leave it, man!” Mike shouted. “This is a
fubar situation! I need you with me to keep an eye on these
two!”
    Derek didn’t protest further. He opened the
passenger door and sat down.
    Mike started the engine. In front of him, the
crazed vagrants—though they had already been thoroughly roasted by
tazers—had risen to their feet. The cruiser’s headlights blinded
them temporarily, illuminating them in the darkness. They covered
their eyes with their arms and advanced on the cruiser. Mike backed
the cruiser out of the mouth of the alley and onto the road. The
tires squealed as he shifted out of reverse and into drive and
punched the accelerator.
    “864 to Dispatch. Returning to base.
Over.”
    Anticipating a response, but not getting one,
Mike repeated himself.
    “864 to Dispatch. Returning to base.
Over.”
    Still no response.
    While Mike tried to reach an ominously silent
base, Charlie retrieved a crumpled joint and lighter from the
nether-reaches of his crotch and sparked up. The unidentified girl
next to him eyed the doobie with a sort of sad relief. Charlie took
a long hit, savoring every bit of THC the hit offered. In a defiant
show, Charlie exhaled, filling the interior of the cruiser with
second hand pot smoke. Charlie offered the girl a chance to take a
hit, and the girl was more than happy to accept.
    Mike said nothing. This was no longer a
typical day. Hell, it wasn’t even a typical city anymore—or world.
Charlie sparking up was a fitting end to their painful night, and a
marker for Officer Mike Runyard of the beginning of the zombie
apocalypse in Austin, Texas.
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    Wednesday, April 14th
    12:05 AM
    In an armored military personnel carrier
    on IH-35, just ahead of APD Cruiser 864
     
    “What the hell is going on?” asked a short
and slouching soldier of Asian descent in the back of the APC.
    “Knight, I already told you,” said his team
leader Sgt. Arnold, “We’ve been sent to secure the Texas state
capitol.” The stout, round-faced leader leaned back. Dark rimmed,
military-issued glasses stood firm on his round nose. The M203
grenade launcher strapped to the top of his gear clicked against
the metal wall of the vehicle.
    “You mean we have been sent to secure
the Texas state capitol,” said Sgt. Arnold’s colleague, Sgt.
Nickson, sitting directly across from him. He was indicating the
three men that made up his fireteam.
    “You four couldn’t secure a pair of Depends for your mothers,” said Spc. Noble, defending her
fireteam leader, Sgt. Arnold. Her childlike face cracked a smile,
but her dark eyes were piercing and somehow instantly gave her
credibility.
    “Fuck you, Noble, you little bitch,” said
Spc. Rodriguez, a hulking black man as thick as a redwood tree, the
“fire” man of the team. “I’ll fuck your mother in the ass, then
make her suck the shit off my dick.”
    “He’ll do it, too,” said Rodriguez’s partner,
Spc. Garrison, the “assist” for Nickson’s team. He was a much
smaller man than Rodriguez in more ways than one. Gray-haired with
a goatee just as gray, Garrison