Fountain of the Dead by Scott T. Goudsward Read Free Book Online Page A

spot.
    The engine idled restless as if the vehicle knew where it was. The Jeep had been green, until swirls of brown and grey were added to keep it camouflaged. The radio hissed static or blurted out automated warnings, the lights were bright and it ran well. Sam revved the engine a few times to get Pierce’s attention.
    “Incoming!” Frank yelled. He stood and took aim. Danny turned to get the rifle ready for the kill shot. Pierce barely noticed the group of dead coming from roadside trees. Some broke off shambling towards Pierce; the rest went for the Jeep. Sam turned the Jeep around to face the oncoming walking lifeless. Danny fired over their heads, dropping the closest to Pierce. Frank rolled from the Jeep into a crouch and opened fire. The corpse bodies were wracked and rocked from the gun fire; three of them fell as more came from the tree-line.
    Pierce screamed as one’s head vaporized from Danny’s rifle. The mist of brain and blood settled on him. He grabbed the pack and ran for the Jeep. Danny fired until he cleared a path. Frank unloaded his clips and ran back to reload. Pierce jumped into the back, plowing into Danny almost knocking him out of the jeep. Frank landed in the passenger’s seat and Sam peeled out. They left a trail of smoke and burnt rubber ion the road.
    “This is why no one drives my Jeep. I’m going to need tires.”
    “Please stop bitching, Frank,” Danny yelled.
    Frank continued to fire until they were out of range. The urge to pistol whip Pierce was almost uncontrollable. He counted silently letting the rage ebb. He checked his guns; both new clips were empty. So much for conserving ammo he thought.
    “Would that be considered good recon?” Danny asked.
    “We didn’t find a store to loot or gas station to check out,” Frank responded. “So no. Find an ammo shop that hasn’t been looted, then yes.”
    Pierce dug through the pack, leaving a trail of papers and notes trailing behind the jeep. He held on to several maps, stuffing them under his legs and then pulled out a clear plastic canteen, half full with the water. Through the clutter in the pack, Danny saw the corner of an old book and the hint of yellowed pages.
    “That better be worth all this,” Sam said
    “Trust me, it is.” Pierce swung around and bumped into Danny. Danny grabbed onto to the roof support to not be thrown from the Jeep.
    “Next time someone is saving your stupid ass, make sure you don’t almost knock him out of the vehicle.” Danny wanted to bash Pierce in the head with the rifle stock, over and over until it caved in his skull or knocked some sense into him. Sam steered the Jeep like an extension of his own body; around cars and debris and impact holes from the meteors from the Night Storm. Frank turned in time to see a few of the dead walking in pursuit.
    “I was in a rush.” Pierce kissed the canteen and held it close to his chest and didn’t let go until he saw the outer gate of the village and the glint of reflected sunlight from the sniper’s scope.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “Meredith,” Catherine whispered. “Take Micah and Grace, go into my house and use the laptop, see if you can get a signal from the city’s server and look up our Mr. Pierce.”
    “But last time we got caught.” Meredith dry swallowed. She looked around the village, like there might be agents from the city lying in wait.
    Beverly squeezed her daughter’s shoulders. Micah stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. Meredith looked along the cul-de-sac street for Grace. She saw the frail girl sitting on a wooden crate near the medical shed. Meredith waved her over. Grace’s steps were slow and thought out. Meredith held out her hands to Grace and Micah and they went towards Catherine’s house. Micah kept one hand on his satchel, in case he needed something to draw or write on, really quick.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The house was immaculate. Aside from being the leader of the village, Catherine was a neat freak. Maybe