CHAPTER ONE (?)
The horse reared, neighing painfully as it stepped into a pothole in the middle of the road and then jerked itself out before it could panic and break its leg. The rider, a hard-faced young man with matted blonde hair and baby blue eyes, let a cold smile show briefly on his lips at his mount's tenacity.
The Rider himself was a good-looking boy: son of a reverend and a lawyer, good genes instilled in him. He probably would have been even more handsome if he hadn't had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and from stress and if his hair hadn't been caked with mud and dried blood, and he smelled to high heaven from a mixture of old blood and intestines splattered all over his clothes and the stomach of his horse where it appeared he'd been wading through a pool of rotting bodies. This was far from what had truly happened. But that was beside the point . . .
The Rider stopped the horse and looked around silently. There was no one in sight, and it appeared that the town was deserted, just like nearly every town on the face of the earth. It was a ghost town. The young rider gave a humorless chuckle and swung himself down from the rough leather saddle of the horse, boots landing with an authorative thump on the cracked asphalt. He ran his rough palm over the horse's coat affectionately before tying its reins to the fender of a rusty old wreck that had once been a school bus, from the looks of it.
He walked away from the tethered horse, appearing to be deep in thought as he stepped up on the sidewalk. He didn't appear to care about the deserted town at all, and didn't appear to be worried about being attacked by whatever had made the town the way it was now. He just marched through the rubble-cluttered doorway of the former franchise restaraunt and sighed, gazing around at what had once been one of the most popular places for humanity to dine. There was a sadness in his eye that couldn't really be explained as he looked downwards and nudged what appeared to be a very old, stained burger bun with the tip of his boot.
Outside, the city was suddenly filled with noise where before it had been bone chillingly quiet. The Rider sighed. There was always a small group of survivors that just had to try and steal the horse. He turned calmly and walked to the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and watched the scruffy-looking teenage girl struggling to untie the complex knot in which the rider had tethered the horse to the school bus with. Another scruffy teenager, this one a boy, was standing nearby holding what seemed to be a 12-gauge shotgun. He nearly crapped his pants when he saw the Rider in the doorway, and he raised the shotgun, apparently trying to intimidate the other man.
The Rider laughed. "Why isn't your gun loaded?" he asked with a twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. "Should I be scared of an empty gun? Please put it down before I grow impatient and shoot you. Hurry it up." The boy hastily laid the shotgun down and stood with his hands up. "Back up, over by your sister or your girlfriend or whoever the fuck she is." The Rider drew his pistol and cocked it for emphasis and the boy quickly obeyed, the girl also holding her hands up as they stood by the school bus and waited to be executed, as was the usual crime for trying to steal a horse in the post-apocalypse world they now lived in.
"We meant no harm," the girl said bravely, her green eyes blazing in defiance. She was beautiful, even if her red hair was cut boyishly short and her face purposefully smudged so she would appear more male in case raiders caught her and decided she was a little too pretty to be left alone. In the Rider's opinion, you couldn't mask that kind of beauty no matter how hard you tried. "We just wanted to hurry up and steal your horse before one of the monsters came along . . . "
The Rider chuckled. "Next time, try and point a loaded shotgun. Thankfully, I'm in a relatively good mood, so you two will live for there to be a next time." He stepped off the sidewalk and approached the pair, pistol still aimed at them but he hadn't ever really intended to shoot them unless he had to. "Stand exactly where you are, while I untie my horse and mount it and then I'm going to ride away and you are going to get to live, though you'll be still minus a horse as usual. Do you understand?"
The girl smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes. So much like a woman, trying to flirt her way to safety with the 'knight in shining armor' or just the man with a gun and with the horse. "You young men and your macho crap," she tssked. "Just take me and Adam with you."
The Rider hesitated. He rarely hesitated but he did at that moment. "I will take one of you and one of you only," he said firmly, obviously hoping he was going to get to take the girl.
The boy never faltered. He turned to the girl and hugged her. "I'll take my chances out here, Liza. You go with this guy. Don't worry about me. I've survived this long without this jerk's help, right?" He kissed her cheek gently.
She nodded and the Rider had to admire her, because she barely showed a hint of a tear in her eye even though he could tell it was hard for her to leave her brother or boyfriend or whoever this guy was. "Don't do anything stupid," she ordered shortly before swinging up into the saddle behind the Rider and not looking back. The Rider kicked his steed into a gallop and soon they were out of sight of the boy.
After they had turned the corner away from the girl's former companion, the Rider reined the horse in to a stop and turned around in the saddle to look the girl in the eye solidly. "Who was he?"
"My fiance," she answered back, and this time a tear did leak down her cheek.
"Fine, okay." The Rider urged the horse on and soon they were once again galloping spiritedly down the street. Stop listening to your dick, he thought anxiously. You should just drop the girl off right fucking now. She's hot, sure . . . But she'll only fucking slow you down. But he just kept going. And the girl stayed on the back of that horse, for damn sure.
They had reached the other end of town by the time night fell. The Rider stopped the horse in the street and dismounted, eyes alert and pistol drawn. He was noticeably more careful at night, because that when . . . Well, that was when the zombies came out more often. Yes, zombies. The Rider gazed around at the surrounding buildings, obviously trying to calculate which one would be best to hole up in for the night. He had to take into account which buildings would have space enough. Usually he only had to account for him and the horse. But now the girl had been added to the equation and hopefully she'd be worth it.
The Rider spotted a bookstore that looked big enough and led the horse across to it quietly, the girl still sitting in the saddle calmly. It wasn't until they reached the door of the book store that the Rider realized she had fallen asleep sitting up. He smiled softly and picked the sleeping beauty gently out of the saddle and carried her into the store, laying her down on the counter while he set up a pallet of blankets that he took from the saddlebags and then he laid her down on that. He led the horse across the bookstore's length and let it lay in a comfortable space he cleared of debris and fallen books, before tethering it to a railing there.
As he walked back towards the sleeping girl and shut the bookstore's door as best he could and secured it, the Rider stared grimly at several bloody handprints all over the store that told its brutal history from when the outbreak started a while ago. While the girl slept, the Rider stayed up and aimed the gun at the doorway protectively, never tiring apparently.
--
The girl awoke to the sight of the Rider sitting beside her, still aiming the pistol, eyes wide open and completely awake. She was shocked. "What's up with you?" she yawned, stretching tiredly and gazing around in surprise at his choice of shelter. She looked amused as she picked up a torn copy of Harry Potter lying nearby and then tossed it away.
"I do not sleep unless someone else stays up and covers me," he answered shortly, finally uncocking the pistol and stuffing it in his holster once more and standing up. "I haven't lived this long to be bit by some lowdown zombie just because I wanted to catch some zs. We move in half an hour. Hurry up and fix something for us to eat. Bando eats, too, or you don't eat . . . " He blinked at her when she said nothing. "That's what you're here for. To cook. Now cook. And by the way, Bando's my horse . . . And my name is Jay."
The girl was silent for a moment. "I'm Liza. And if I have to cook to survive and get out of this shithole town full of zombies . . . I guess that's the least I can do for you . . . " She flashed a smile at him that seemed only half enthusiastic and walked towards the saddle bags that the Rider . . . that Jay had laid on the counter.
Jay grinned softly to himself and ran a hand through his matted hair and for the first time since before the outbreak had began, he thought to himself: I really need a shower. And a haircut, as well. Why now, though? He knew perfectly well why. The girl was cute, and he was sweet on her already. He shook it off quickly. "There's some canned stuff in the saddlebags. I managed to raid it from some store in another town farther east of here . . . There's also two large water canteens in there. One is for us. The other is for Bando. Give that to him, along with the bag of hay." Jay sighed deeply. "I am so glad this is a hick town in the middle of nowhere, plenty of farms to steal that hay shit off of, you know?"
Liza listened silently as she prepared the food. "You do know we can't eat right now? We've got to get somewhere that I can make a fire, you understand that, right? And your horse -- Bandit, or whatever -- would probably like to be out in the open when he eats, instead of in this cramped nerd hangout . . . And another thing--" She was cut off as there was a long, low moan outside and dragging footsteps on the concrete sidewalk.
Jay sshed her and drew the pistol back out very slowly, eyes glued to the secured door. Liza nodded in understanding and pulled a knife out of the saddlebags where it was concealed, just in case the zombie outside somehow got past the pistol. There was silence except for the unmistakable sound of rotting hands trying to shove open the door of the bookstore -- and then succeeding.
Jay didn't even wait to get a good look at the zombie: he just fired and knocked it back through the door with a bullet to the neck and then another to the gut, and the zombie toppled off the sidewalk and revealed the group of oncoming undead -- over a dozen zombies, at least -- approaching from all over the street. "Time to go," Jay said quickly. "Pack the stuff, untie Bando and follow me." Without looking back at Liza, he ran out the door, weaving expertly through the small group of zombies and whistling loudly for Bando.
The horse came running through the door of the bookstore after Liza untied him, bowling the zombies down like ninepins. At this point, Jay was sure that they had to get out of the city entirely and move on to one of the next abandoned ghost towns. He just hoped they would be able to escape this one. He swung up onto Bandit's back. "Let's get the hell out of here!" he yelled towards the bookstore -- that was his way of telling her to hurry the fuck up.
Liza came barrelling out of the store, carrying the saddle bags over her shoulder to leave her hands free to hold the knife. She gave a zombie a slice across the face and kicked it backwards before Jay lifted her up behind him on the back of the horse. Jay kicked the horse into a gallop and they made their way through the zombie mob as fast as they could, Liza kicking the zombies away when she had the chance.
When they were about four miles outside of town, Jay finally let Bando slow down to a walk as they were passing through a farmer's field and the two humans dismounted. "Try to rustle something up," Jay commanded as he gave a look of eager wanting towards the saddle bags. "Maybe some canned stuff? Bando's fine out here. I'll let him graze or something. Try not to let zombies sneak up on us and I'm going to take a nap while you cook." He laid down on the hard, bare ground and was nearly instantly asleep.
Liza felt her anger rising. She was a very defiant young woman, but she tried to keep her feelings in check. After all, he had taken her in when he didn't have to. She looked towards Bando and patted the animal's matted coat gently before getting to work.
Meanwhile, across the field in the farmer's house, hungry and greedy eyes watched, huddled around the window so they could all see. Those gazes caressed Liza's womanly curves and tongues licked lips. But one was not so sure about the whole plan their leader had cooked up . . .
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" the young man asked nervously from the shadows. He was standing away from the window and seemed embarassed by the obvious sexual desire of his comrades being directed towards the woman bending over and preparing food across the field.
The leader turned around, eyes narrowing and lust leaving them to be replaced by annoyance. "Those two survivors are a gold mine, fool," he declared. "And we're gonna be cutting their trip short . . . They have a horse, food, guns, everything . . . Especially the purty little thing there . . . " He licked his lips again. "Fine piece of . . . " He trailed off, rambling to himself.
The young man who had expressed his doubt of the plan stood there, guilt-ridden. He eventually subdued the feelings of doubt and firmly grasped his shotgun. They were going to go ahead with the plan... Two hours passed and then the plan commenced..
"Lunch break!" Liza joked, setting down the food in front of Jay as he yawned and stretched and gave a tired smile of thanks to her. Bando was lying lazily on the ground nearby, stuffed full of hay and content. Jay reached for a fork at the same time as Liza did and their hands touched and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Jay's gaze held nothing but embarassment, but Liza's eyes were mischevious and twinkling.
Jay started to get up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the ground eating. That's when he heard a distinctive clicking noise and he turned to Liza, eyes wide in disbelief. They locked gazes and Liza understood, throwing herself prone as gunfire opened up from all sides. No bullets were aimed for Liza or Bando, however . . . They were all aimed for Jay.
He grunted as he was shot in the right arm first and toppled backwards, blood spraying everywhere. Men materialized from the darkness, one of them walking right past Liza without a second glance, blasting a pump-action shotgun toward where Jay was scrambling to his feet, others firing at him as well. Jay yelped as he was shot in the belly, but this time he didn't fall. He pulled out a handgun with his left hand and began firing. Even with multiple gunshot wounds, the Rider was still dangerous. The man with the shotgun shrieked like a damned soul as he was hit twice in the right abdomen and stumbled to his knees, the shotgun flying away. Liza kicked him down and grabbed the shotgun desperately and aimed it at another nearby gunman and put several rounds of '00 buckshot into the bastard. Jay saw this and grinned . . . and then another bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he dropped the half-empty pistol and fell to his knees in defeat and then rolled over face-down and motionless.
The men stood around Jay, congratulating each other on taking out the infamous Rider that roamed the ghost towns in the area and was notoriously hard to kill. Too bad they forgot about Liza . . . She walked up behind them and emptied both barrels into the back of one and tossed the shotgun aside, rage filling her beautiful features. The other two turned quickly and pulled their triggers, but Bando galloped in front of Liza, taking the bullets. The steed toppled with a heart-piercing shriek of agony.
Liza grabbed up the pistol Jay had dropped, aiming at one of the men over the body of Bando and shot him between the eyes. The other was running for cover when Liza shot him in the back. She knelt by Bando, patting the horse's heaving sides. He had been struck high on his flank by the bullet, and it looked like a flesh wound. He wasn't going to die. She kissed his nose lovingly and whispered to him that it was all going to be okay, before turning quietly towards where Jay lay.
And of course that was when he rolled over, holding another pistol, his eyes darting around for any of the gunmen and ready to kill them. He saw only Liza standing there covered in the blood of the gunmen, holding a pistol with the slide locked back and empty. He laughed weakly, laying his head back on the grass, breathing deeply in and out and trying not to scream from the pain.
Liza knelt by him with a gentle smile with hidden meaning in it, eyes mischevious. "Want a ride, cowboy?"