Around her, the faces of the rest of the team were grim and resolved. She was adapting to working with an organized group and trusting them was difficult. Her grandfather had taught her to hunt when she was ten. Their history enabled them to work seamlessly together after the first day of the rising when the zombies had stopped being myth and became reality. They understood each other’s frame of mind and actions when facing the undead. Emma didn’t know those seated around her. Juan had competently had her back yesterday when they’d rescued Macy, but he was frazzled, too invested in Belinda’s survival. Nerit was the only one on the bus she was certain could handle any threat for she had the bearing of an ancient warrior. That was the only reason that Emma had any sort of confidence in their rescue plan. If Nerit believed the team could pull off the rescue, Emma would trust her judgment.
The bus bounced over some dips in the uneven terrain, jostling the passengers. Zombies attempting to headlong charge its front bumper were swatted away by the deer guard, their broken bodies careening into the brush. Arnold was true to his boast and deftly maneuvered through the thicker clumps of zombies while evading the hidden picnic tables to pull alongside the building on the opposite side from the crashed Durango.
As planned, Emma rapidly scrambled up through the open hatch, her gloved hands reaching for the nearest handholds. She hauled herself onto the roof, the metal scorching her fingers, and quickly secured herself with the harness. It took a few seconds to get accustomed to the belay device that would control the mountain climbing rope attached to the bus. It made her a little nervous to be so dependent on the equipment. It would instantly tighten if she fell, hopefully keeping her out of the grasp of the dead.
The zombies swarmed the bus and the all too familiar sound of hands beating against the metal filled the air. The first gunshot cracking through the air startled Emma. For a long time, no one other than her had fired a gun in her vicinity. It was yet another thing she needed to get used to.
She rapidly scrutinized the situation that confronted her, and recognized that this rescue was going to be a little bit more difficult than anticipated. Arnold could not pull up flush to the building, leaving a three-foot gap between the sloping edge of the top of the bus and the corrugated metal roof of the building. The space between the bus and the building filled up with the dead. Emma briefly glanced down and shivered at the sight of the murky eyes gazing up at her. Blotting out their presence, she planted her feet on the section where the bus roof started to curve and tested her line. It was taut and secure, ready to hold her weight.
Dehydrated, gravely burned by the sun, and weak, the three survivors gingerly crawled toward her. The woman, Belinda, was helped along by Kurt, the younger blond man. The dark-haired middle-aged man, whose name was Ted, Emma recalled, reached the edge of the building first. His face and neck were red and blistered from his days in the sun and sweat glistened on the tip of his hooked nose. Shaking violently, he climbed to his feet, stepped to the edge and looked down.
“Ted, my name is Emma. I’m here to save you, but you gotta listen to me. First, you need to not look down. You need to concentrate on making it safely to where I am standing. Don’t get distracted.”
The man was unsteady on his feet, and clearly terrified. “No, absolutely not! You can’t expect us to jump in our condition! You need to pull up closer to the building!”
“That’s not an option. We can’t get that close.”
The continuous gunfire made it a little difficult to hear, but it was the incessant cries of the undead that was most distracting. Ted’s gaze remained riveted to the decayed faces squeezed into the gap below.
Ted shook his head. “You can’t expect us to jump! We can’t do that!”
Their situation had been more precarious than Emma had realized. The roof had not been constructed to hold so much weight and it protested loudly, the metal and wood creaking beneath him.
Kurt and Belinda edged forward, each step they took tentative. It was evident that Belinda was in the worst shape. Blisters had popped on her shoulders and forehead, oozing pus and blood. Though she had a darker olive complexion, the sun had done its damage. The blond haired man identified as Kurt was beet red. All three were probably severely dehydrated. Emma considered calling out for Juan, but thought better of it. He was too emotionally attached to the situation.
“How do we get across?” Belinda asked over the cries of the dead.
Emma had wanted them to jump across the three-foot expanse, but now understood that was not a possibility without help. With a sigh, she accepted she was going to have to put herself at risk to save them. Giving herself enough slack, she planted one foot firmly on the roof of the bus and kicked out to set the other on the roof. She was muscular and physically fit, yet she could still feel the strain in her thigh muscles. The rubber soles on her boots helped her maintain a steady stance while the harness around her waist gave her the semblance of being secure. If she slipped, the belay device would lock and keep her from falling too far.
“Hurry, we need to get outta here before more come,” Emma urged. “I’ll help you across.”
“Belinda goes first,” Kurt said.
“I’m closer,” Ted interjected.
Seizing Emma’s hand, Ted prepared to jump. His soft, doughy physique was a worry. He honestly did not look capable of making the leap.
“Ted, it might be easier if you do what I am doing. Straddle the gap then shift your weight so you can reach the handhold over there.” Emma pointed to the metal grip near the edge of the roof. It was wrapped with leather to provide a better hold and protect against the heated metal surface.
Ted tossed a look at Emma that said he was not someone who liked to be told what to do. Clearly agitated, his fingers dug into her hand as he prepared to jump. Emma took a deep breath, hoping that the harness could hold both their weight if he fell.
“Ted, just do what the lady is telling you to do. Stop making things difficult,” Kurt said, instantly making the situation even tenser.
If the middle-aged man didn’t like Emma telling him what to do, he sure as hell did not like the younger man giving him orders.
“It’s only three feet,” Ted retorted with a snarl on his thin lips.
With those words, he made a desperate leap across the gap. He wasn’t in the best shape to begin with, but if he hadn’t been so weak from dehydration, the heat, and lack of food, he might have had a shot at cleanly making the jump. His feet landed on the curved edge of the roof and he started to slip. Instead of releasing Emma’s hand and reaching for the handhold, he jerked her toward him, causing her to lose her footing on the building. Thinking fast, she threw all her weight toward the bus as she fell. The harness tightened around her torso, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her gloved hands gripped the line as her body slammed into the curved edge of the roof of the bus, her legs dangling over the side. The impact stunned her and left her gasping with pain. Her knees and feet throbbed from where they impacted with the grate over the window. Expecting to feel the hands of the undead on her at any second, she kicked her feet violently while attempting to hoist herself upward.
There was a loud thump and then someone gripped her wrists. Raising her head, she saw Kurt pulling her onto the roof. It took some effort on both their parts to get her safely onto the bus. He was weak from days of exposure and she was gasping to force oxygen back into her lungs.
“Stupid asshole almost got both you killed,” Kurt grunted.
“Did they get him?”
It was the only reason Emma could think of as to why the zombies hadn’t grabbed hold of her when her legs had been dangling over the edge.
Kurt shook his head. “No, but he has their attention. I’ll get the idiot.”