Jake's Law (Book 2): The Law Giveth by Gurley JE

Author:Gurley, JE [Gurley, JE]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2016-03-27T21:00:00+00:00

10

July 1, 2017, 1:00 p.m. U.S.-Mexican Border, Yuma, AZ —

Corporal Vince Diluna slid the jeep to a stop on the dirt road and waited for the cloud of dust the tires had kicked up to catch up. He closed his eyes and mouth as the dust enveloped the open jeep.

“Damn it, Corporal, did ya have to raise such a sandstorm?” Davers groaned, flailing his hands at the cloud of dust swirling around his face.

Diluna grinned. He enjoyed antagonizing Davers almost as much as he hated listening to Davers slow, southern drawl. Before his promotion to corporal, Davers had been an irritating thorn in his side, constantly reminding him, an Arizona native for three generations, that the Confederates had controlled the Arizona Territory during the Civil War. Now, he was getting some payback. He and Private Chris Davers were making their daily rounds along the U.S.-Mexican border south of Yuma. It was a boring job, but someone had to report any damage to the border fence. The flimsy fence was all that stood between Yuma and 10,000 Mexican zombies in San Luis Rio Colorado across the border.

“Quit bitching, Private, and hand me those glasses.”

Davers handed him the binoculars. Watching the mass of zombies milling around less than a hundred yards away made him uneasy.

“Why can’t the Mexicans do something about the damn zombies?” Davers complained. “We did.”

“Maybe there isn’t much of an army left, Davers. Did you think of that? The Citizen’s Committee has sent a group to meet with the Mexican officials to discuss the problem.”

“Maybe they’ll let us cross the border for some target practice.” Davers raised his rifle and sighted along the barrel.

“Drop that weapon, Private. We don’t need to start a border war, and I sure as hell don’t want any zombies around here to come calling.”

Davers frowned but lowered the rifle. Diluna did not hold out much hope of any cooperation from Mexico. During the height of the plague, the U.S. had slammed shut the border and threw away the key. Anyone, living or dead, caught crossing was shot by patrolling choppers or drones. It had created a lot of conflict and tension, but neither country had the means or the military to do anything about it.

Diluna eyed the dark storm clouds brewing to the southwest, a low-pressure center moving out of the Sea of Cortez. Flashes of lightning made filigree lines in the roiling mass. He had been caught in a haboob once a few years earlier. He did not want to be out in the open when the sandstorm preceding the storm struck. Echoes of distant thunder rolled across the countryside, sounding much closer than the storm looked.

“We’d better head back to base.”

“I see trucks along the fence.”

Diluna raised the binoculars again and checked in the direction Davers pointed. Two military trucks were driving along the fence, stopping every hundred feet or so, and then moving on twenty or thirty seconds later.

“They must be checking the fence,” he replied, but something in their hurried movements bothered him.

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