Zed's World (Book 4): Sacrifice by Baker Rich

Author:Baker, Rich [Baker, Rich]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Phalanx Press
Published: 2019-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Jesse made the turn onto the construction access road and found it mostly passable. The strip of the dirt road that was dry enough to ride on was barely wide enough for his tires, and he had to ride higher up than he’d wanted to for the first quarter mile. But as the river turned slightly northeast from due east, he was able to drop down below the line of sight from the farmhouse at the top of the hill. Now it was a matter of speed.

After a half mile, he ran into his first obstacle. One of the big earth movers was half buried in the drying sediment. If he went around the rear end, he’d risk exposing himself to the people at the farmhouse. If he went around the front end, he’d get the bike bogged in the mud. He opted to get off and slowly walk around the rear end. It was a risk, but if he moved slowly, at this distance, he should be okay.

He got the bike going again and was making good time when he ran into his second problem. Literally.

He was going forty, dodging piles of debris that the flood had scattered here and there along the apex of the flood zone when he hit a spot of sediment that was like quicksand. The front tire disappeared in the muck, and the bike stopped immediately. Jesse was tossed twenty feet over the handlebars of the motorcycle and landed roughly on solid ground.

He rolled over and did a quick damage assessment. His back hurt, and he’d be limping for a week at least with his hip and knee banged up from the crash, but he was mobile.

Not so much for the bike. He tried to pull it out of the muck and only succeeded in sinking in up to his knees. He managed to climb out without losing either of his shoes, which he considered a victory. He took his rifle out of its carrying case, set it aside, and looped the straps around the handlebars of the bike. He found a two-foot branch the diameter of a baseball bat, and he threaded that through the straps as well. He gripped the branch, and standing on the dry edge of the sediment bed, he pulled on it, lifting on the underside of the seat at the same time. He raised the front end an inch. He pulled again. Another inch. He kept at it until he’d pulled the bike free. Drenched in sweat, he lay on the ground for a minute to catch his breath. He inspected the rifle to ensure it wasn’t damaged in the crash, then stowed it in the bag and slipped his arms through the straps.

Ahead, in the distance, almost all the way to the overpass, he thought he saw a small plane cross over the river. It was red, and he only saw it for a moment. Was it possible they had planes? Ultralights, maybe? He wanted to twist the throttle back, but he got lucky on his last spill.

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