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BESIEGED (HUNGRY Series Book 2) Page 10
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The latter was still lying down when Johnny landed heavily on the metallic floor, near him, from the open roof window. He saw that Vlad was lying on his back, eyes closed. Glad to be rid of Adams' damned soul, Johnny reported his attention toward one of the two doors giving access to the front of the vehicle.
It was then that he received a violent kick in the back.
This made him fall on his flat belly, his chin hitting hard the metal plates of the floor. The attacker fell heavily on him, making him blow hard from the impact. The pain made him grimace.
Johnny was then turned over on his back, and it was then that he saw that it was Vlad, who had awakened. The latter pulled on his dark arm and, placing him on his stomach, applied a painful arm lock.
"So, clown, did you really think you would get rid of me like that?"
The henchman bowed his back, bending his arm even more in the wrong direction, to the point of soon breaking his arm's joint.
A violent punch crashed on Vlad's cheek, turning his head sharply under the impact, and he fainted.
Johnny released his arm and rubbed his aching elbow while sneaking from underneath the unconscious gunman. Relaxed now, he looked at Bo, who, crouching beside them, was smiling at him.
"I do owe you two beers, pal!" exclaimed the young man of color cheerfully, smiling with all his bleeding teeth to his blond friend. The latter answered, "I bet you do!"
Joshua Adams felt his stress rising stratospherically, as he watched, on the screens inserted in the wall in front of him, his grip on his little world escaping him. Things were happening both inside and outside the truck, and nothing seemed to be happening as he had hoped. This was a good excuse for him to better his moral, and so he pulled out two things from a drawer of his desk. He served himself in a pretty glass a very old drink of Bourbon, which he placed with the bottle near the edge of his desk.
Suddenly he felt a shake and clung to his desk, hearing metallic noises, as if the shock absorbers of the vehicle were strained. The movements surprised him all the more because he didn't catch his glass and the bottle in time, which over fell on the carpet.
The softness of the latter dampened the shocks and prevented any breakage, but the two overturned containers spread the reddish liquid over the ocher colored surface, staining it irretrievably.
"My God, what's that, an earthquake?"
He glanced at some of the outside screens and immediately realized what was going on.
He saw that the zombies that had previously fallen had got up again. Covered in the blood of the chickens and of the shredded man, they gathered once more around the truck.
Roaring with their frustrating hunger, they shook the vehicle violently.
A noise coming from one of the two doors giving access to his office made him jump. The Administrator glanced at one of the screens that showed the inside of the truck on the other side, and he was startled by what he saw.
Johnny and Bo had opened a small trapdoor near one of the automatic doors giving access to his office, and they were trying to tamper with the electronic circuits inside it. Presently Bo was fidgeting two wires. Suddenly a spark coming from the little trap briefly dazzled the two young men.
The automatic door was shaken again, as if it was going to open, but it didn't move.
Panic seized Adams who breathed loudly, as much from fear of being captured as because of his stoutness. He tried to contact someone by taking his microphone, in which he shouted: "Hey, you, the driver, intruders will eventually get into my office, shoot them down and..."
It was then that he stopped, angry with himself. He had just remembered that the driver had been the poor guy who had been shredded, whom he had previously ordered to follow Vlad's orders.
Since he had ordered almost all the henchmen accompanying him to return to the Community to intercept Hiroto, he found himself now alone in his truck. The other fellow, who had fallen from the top of the ladder, seemed to be in as poor a state as Vlad. Both were lying, stunned, behind Johnny and Bo, who were continuing to try to open his door. And he knew that when they entered they would catch him, and that for him, everything would be all over! Power, access to resources …
It was then that he glanced at the electronic controls on his desk, with their buttons and levers and joystick. And that's when he smiled maliciously.
"So, when are you going to open that goddamned door?" asked Johnny, who had been pressing Bo for a while.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm doing my best, but please, don't stress me!"
"Excuse me, all my apologies, buddy. All this electronic stuff, I don't know anything about it, unlike you."
"Too often in the Dojo, huh?" the young blond replied, glancing at him mockingly.
"And you, not enough," replied his friend of color, obviously wounded by his remark. He went on: "So the door, you open it? I'm eager to catch Adams, that old fat bastard, and bring him to the Community's justice! "
"You're not the only one in a hurry," Bo answered, continuing to manipulate the cables and components inside the little access panel. He licked his upper lip, concentrated on his task, and finally said, still manipulating something, "I think I'm going to make it, here..."
The click of a mechanism was heard, and a door beside opened at once, but not the one for which they had been hoping...
Realizing with irritation that the door to Adams' office remained closed, the two young men looked in the direction from which the noise had come.
The doors had slid and the entrance of the truck was now wide open!
Several zombies had stood in front of the doors, and now they were watching the two humans through the opening. They groaned, all ready to enter.
"Hey, what did you do?" Johnny shouted at Bo, who had his hands fidgeting again inside the panel, and who answered to him, "I assure you, I'm sure it's not me!"
"Indeed," said Adams, laughing, still holding his hand on the door opening control he had just activated. He brought back his hand, and continued, amused, to look at, on the screen, what was going to happen to the two friends.
The first undead pulled themselves inside the truck and, slowly, began to approach the young men. They huddled together in the corner of the door, close to the hatch.
"My God, we're screwed!" Bo exclaimed, while Johnny remained focused.
The zombies roared and opened enormous, deformed mouths, swooping down at once toward them.
Johnny dodged a creature as he pushed another violently, kicking it at its chest. The thing fell back a few meters and then collapsed, while Bo, struggling with two other living dead, began punching clumsily in their faces.
He was awkward but strong, and the two things collapsed close to the other creature, which immediately got up.
Johnny let the creature that he had previously dodged literally leap towards him. Then, letting it push him backwards, he rolled back while dragging the creature with him. Helped by his feet he threw it over him. Carried by their shared momentum, the zombie was projected violently against one of the interior metallic sides of the truck.
Johnny got up very quickly and he and Bo tried to escape through the entrance that remained open, and finally stopped in its frame. They had come face to face with a mob of zombies. Still covered in fresh animal and human blood, they grumbled and advanced towards them.
Bo looked behind him and Johnny and saw that the creatures they'd been bullying had already gotten up, and, dragging their feet, walked toward them.
"No way out in front or behind, we're screwed!" Bo exclaimed, making a face. His colored friend said nothing. He wanted only one thing: to die in battle like one of the Samurais of his Master's family, the warriors whom he had always admired for their courage.
It was then that, excited, the zombies rushed towards them.
***
Slicing
They turned again and confronted the first attackers who were also the closest.
Johnny again kicked back the creatures that came from behind while Bo did the sa
me with his fists. It was with horror that they both felt bony hands scratching their backs, but their attention was focused on their opponents in front of them.
Suddenly the scratching halted.
Metallic sounds could be heard behind them and, looking out through the entrance, they saw that the group of zombies who had wanted to attack them from behind was concentrated on someone else.
A small silhouette was running swiftly from one to the other, slicing arms and legs, which fell on the ground.
"Master!" Johnny exclaimed, joy on his face.
That's when he was pushed from behind by one of the creatures he had kicked back.
So he returned his attention again to what was in front of him.
He pushed the creature in his turn, putting his hand on its rotting eyes, and pushing its head back, but the pressure of the thing was far too great. He feared to be tipped backward by the creature's efforts. Metallic reflections appeared within the limits of his field of view, as he heard Hiroto's blade whistling in the air around him. The creature pushing Johnny saw its own arms fall at its feet.
A few other saber thrusts followed, and the Japanese beheaded all the remaining zombies inside the truck.
"You came to save us, Master," Johnny shouted happily, and Hiroto replied, "I wasn't going to let one of my most beloved disciples and his best friend die!"
The old man smiled at him but, looking towards the entrance of the truck, his smile vanished.
A new batch of creatures was arriving. There were dozens of them…
Contemplating the game on the screen, Joshua Adams manipulated other controls near his desk and grumbled, "How does that work?"
Johnny saw that they were facing a veritable wall of decomposing creatures, many of them having eyes which were no more than gaping orbits, their rotten tongues visible in their open, greedy jaws.
The wall of zombies crashed on the ground, pushed violently to the side, as if an invisible car had dashed into them. Seeing this, the trio in the truck opened their eyes wider in surprise. It seemed to them that something, something massive, had darkened through the living dead, something so fast that it was almost invisible, like a blur.
Just a fleeting impression from the corner of the eye...
It was then that the fleeting impression returned, like a retinal persistence, and then in a wink, it was replaced by a massive male silhouette which froze, standing now in front of them. His sneakers had made an impressive braking noise, some dust having accumulated around them, as they had dug in the ground because of the brutal braking. It was then that the young man of color recognized the individual.
"Dad!" Johnny shouted, and he got out of the truck, embracing his sweating father.
"My boy," Harry answered, jovial, and he tightened tenderly his arms around his son, closing his eyes. Reopening them after a second, his smile faded, while over his son's shoulder he looked at Hiroto, who was standing nearby.
The old man, the living dead near him, in case they would rise again. The black giant told him, "Hiroto, man, it would've been best for you to stay inside the van and take some rest."
"And leave you to the job alone?" replied the old Japanese man, smiling. "That would not have been worthy of me."
Another silhouette arrived and stopped behind a bush, trying to hide.
But nothing could escape the old Japanese's notice.
"Get out of there right now," he shouted to the bush. "I saw you."
His granddaughter came out from behind the thick curtain of vegetation, sheepishly, her head lowered. She was carrying in her hand the blade, with its crystalline reflections, that she had taken from the van.
"Red? What the hell are you doing here?" Harry shouted at her, looking at her wide-eyed. "And what are you carrying there, in your hand?" He pointed at the blade, which was partly covered with dark brown spots.
"Yes, what are you doing here?" Hiroto asked, his fury appearing on his face.
"I'm sorry," answered the teen girl, continuing, "I went outside, and got lost in the woods. Then I saw that you had left the van and, silently, I followed you."
"What about your promise?" asked the Japanese, clearly furious, before continuing, "Perjury! I'm furious..."
A strafing on the ground before him silenced him as he jumped to the side, not fast enough to avoid being hit on the flank. Blood dripping from the wound, he collapsed while moaning with convulsions of pain.
"Grandfather!" Red yelled, running toward him while the other people went to the ground to avoid being shot. While puffs of dust were lifted around them by strafing, they all looked to see who was firing at them. They saw that it was an automated machine-gun, on a rotating turret, that was shooting them, from the roof of the truck.
It suddenly stopped shooting, moving spasmodically in all directions.
"Party's over, huh?" exclaimed Adams, delighted, as he manipulated a joystick near the controls, and pressed its button again.
A new burst of gunfire began in the direction of Harry and the young men, leaving the area where Red was crouching near Hiroto. This forced the giant and the other two to stand up and run, to avoid the bullets.
"Hiroto!" cried the red-haired girl, taking the old man's head on her knees. With his eyes closed, he showed signs of suffering on his face. Seeing that, tears began to flow down one of Red's freckled cheeks.
The din was going on around them, but at least it had the vaguest advantage of disconcerting the zombies. They had become motionless, their limited senses and their atrophied minds making it difficult for them to adapt to this unexpected situation.
Suddenly, Harry grabbed his son and his friend with both hands and, lifting them like vulgar puppets, began to run at a crazy speed towards a corner of the wood. It was about ten meters away but he arrived with them in less than a second, leaving behind Usain Bolt if he had been there.
He rushed to a bush, crushing it with his "passengers" like a bulldozer, and disappeared further into the woods, his heavy but rapid stomps almost as noisy as the strafing. The latter had followed him like wildfire but had unsuccessfully attempted to catch up with him.
The strafing stopped as the automatic gun on the roof came to a standstill.
Adams was watching the control screen incredulously, having released the joystick. The trail of dust left behind by the black giant forming behind the trees looked as if a herd of racehorses was moving away.
"Now, that's a strange thing," the old Administrator exclaimed, his eyes wide open with astonishment. "What did he eat?"
Then, glancing at another screen, he saw Hiroto half lying on Red's lap. The old Japanese opened his eyes. "Not dead yet, old fossil?" cried Adams, and then he returned his hand to the joystick.
The strafing resumed, the trail of bullets lifting the ground, forming a trail of dust which went in the direction of the wounded man and the young girl.
Just as the strafing was going to reach them, its trajectory changed at the last moment, preserving them miraculously.
"What the hell..." Adams exclaimed, clinging to his desk as he noticed, aghast, that the truck was starting to be overturned.
Looking at one of the screens he was surprised to see that it was Harry who, coming back, his hands under one of the borders of the vehicle, was raising it.
"Bloody freak, I'm fed up with you!" the old hand shouted and, once again manipulating the joystick, he pressed the button. The machine gun lowered its barrel very low along the vehicle and a dump went off, tearing off part of the colossus' mighty biceps.
Under the impact and pain Harry released the truck while the bloody chip of muscle fell on the ground, forming a pond full of dark blood.
The dropped vehicle and its brutal contact with the ground racked Adams against his desk, making him drop him down from his chair and release the joystick. The machine gun fell silent again as the truck bounced several times. Its shock absorbers, under stress, made painful metallic sounds.
The vehicle twitched several times before it sto
pped completely, while Harry collapsed beside the vehicle. Pain on his face, holding his bloody arm partially shredded, he was lying on his back on the dusty ground.
Noises of electric motors drew his attention and, made him raise his head. He saw, above him, protruding over the edge of the roof, the machine gun, with its barrel pointed directly at his head.
"Farewell, you won't hinder me anymore!"
Adams' voice, broadcast by a loudspeaker beside the small turret of the machine-gun, left no doubt as to his intentions. The big black man swallowed his saliva and closed his eyes.
Inside his office, which had become stable again, sitting in front of the controls, the old Administrator wore a bad smile, as his thumb was about to press the button of the joystick.
An enormous metallic noise made him jump and almost fall from his armchair. It had come from beside him, and, looking in that direction, he saw that something had just pierced through the metal wall to his right.
With a tortured metal noise, a crystalline blade diffusing colored shades was slicing through the metal of the truck as if it was butter, and it was moving upwards toward the roof...
"What the fuck is that?” the old man yelled, and he fell silent, open-mouthed, his heart pounding again.
The blade continued to rise, then stopped at the height of a medium-sized man. Then, the Administrator, still feeling protected in his "bunker", made a face and sneered, "A diversion attempt?" It was then that Adams had a nasty doubt that made him glance at the precedent screen.
He jumped.
"No!"
He no longer saw the black colossus lying on the ground.
Only a few traces of blood remained, where he had been lying.
New sounds of lacerated metal made him look to the side. With a morbid fascination, he watched the blade rise again, brushing very quickly the ceiling of the vehicle.