Ch1 Stinger

For the third time in an hour, cawing erupted behind them, those damned crows, disturbed by something. Francis glanced back toward Bill, their eyes met, and the group came to a stop. "What's going on, guys?" Louis called to them.

"Quiet!" Bill hissed in a low voice. "I think we have some company behind us!"

Francis nodded, adding with a deep growl, "Probably another of those damn smokers creeping up on us. I hate smokers!"

"Big surprise there," Zoey commented, rolling her eyes, her breath a white mist in the cold fall air. She'd lost track of the things that Francis claimed to hate, it would be easier to keep track of the short list of things he didn't hate. So far, there was only one item on that list, vests.

"Can the chit-chat, people!" Bill demanded in a whisper, his voice tense. "I don't know what the hell it is, but I get the uneasy feeling we are being stalked."

The woods were dense, and the idea of a specially mutated zombie, or more, creeping up behind them was not a comforting one. They were hoping to get through this park to the army base they had heard about, but the woods were full of zombies, and between the trees and the ever-present chilly mist surrounding them and decreasing visibility, Bill wondered again whether this was such a good plan.

Well, it wasn't like they had many options, he reminded himself. When the C-130 crash-landed in that field, the four of them were lucky enough to walk away from it, unlike the pilot, but that might be where their luck ended. They had their weapons and a little ammo, but little clue about where they were heading and what they might be wandering into. If they were going to make it to the army base, they were going to have to keep it together and act with extreme caution. They couldn't afford to have a battle right now with a horde of zombies triggered by a boomer, smoker, hunter, or worse yet, a tank. He was just hoping that somewhere on their path they would find a safe-room and be able to resupply and maybe even get something to eat. He looked at his companions thoughtfully, thinking what an odd group they made up. Francis, a menacing-looking, tattooed biker thug; Zoey, a college girl; Louis a former store manager and tech-geek, and of course Bill himself; ex-soldier, 'Nam vet and the default leader of this motley crew. Over the past few weeks, he'd begun to think of them all as his little family, and he was determined to see them all to safety or die trying.

"Francis", Bill said to the hulking, tattoo-covered man currently glaring suspiciously behind them, "I'm thinking we should lay a little ambush of our own, at least try to get some idea about who or what is following us."

"Huh," Francis grunted. "You read my mind, old man."

"Didn't think he could read anything that small anymore", snickered Zoey. Louis unsuccessfully suppressed a giggle. Joking about Francis and his stupidity had become a favorite theme between the two.

Francis merely flicked an annoyed glance her way. Let them think whatever, he didn't give a damn anyway. Smart-mouthed, spoiled, little college girl and that "Merry Sunshine" tie-wearing drone could make all the jokes they wanted, as long as they fought hard and held together long enough to help him get out of this shit-hole. He hated the woods, and traipsing through it in the cold mist had not improved his opinion of it, or his disposition.

Ignoring them, Francis spoke to Bill, "How 'bout I head back to that bridge we just crossed, see whether anything comes up and tries to come across. Whatever it is will be exposed on the bridge, if it's a vampire I'll have a good shot at it. You all hang back here, out of sight and if you hear any shooting, you'll know there're vampires on our tail. If it ain't too much trouble, you can head back to the bridge and maybe help shoot a few. If I don't see anything in the next 30 minutes, I'll come on back."

"All right then, sounds like a plan," agreed Bill. He didn't really like the idea of sending only one of them back, but it was better for one person to remain silent and undetected along their back-trail than to send any of the less-skilled members of the group with Francis only to mess up the ambush. Plus, they were fairly close to the bridge, if there was any serious trouble they could be there quickly. The thought of the giant of a man needing any kind of help from an old man, a young woman and a former store manager brought the smallest hint of a smile to Bill's grizzled face.

Over the last few weeks, he observed that Francis was a deadly shot and quicker with a gun than just about anybody Bill had ever known. Considering all of the men Bill had known in his 'Nam days, that was saying one hell of a lot. He could only speculate how Francis came to be so good with a gun, no doubt it was part of his appeal to the Hell's Legion "organization" he had belonged to. No, Bill was confident that Francis could take care of himself. Meanwhile, he would stay with Zoey and Louis, and try to keep everyone quiet and concealed in case they were needed.

Francis crept along the trail, keeping to the trees and cover as much as possible. For such a big man, he moved almost silently. Francis had plenty of experience creeping up on things. An enforcer for the Hell's Legion motorcycle club, he had learned over the years how to stealthily sneak up on and surprise even the most jumpy target. Like a giant cat, he silently slid through the shadows and took up a post well within the shade of a large pine tree. This gave him a good view of the approach to the bridge, and he would have plenty of time to aim and shoot at anything attempting to cross. Glancing at his badly battered watch, he crouched down above the musty damp pine needles for the wait.