Once the people were inside, Lassiter, Donovan, and Casey gathered outside the doors.
Lowell asked, “Aren’t you three coming?”
Donovan looked to the older man and said, “Not just yet. We have one more mission.”
At least, he thought it was only one more.
Chapter 118
Trying to Close the Door
Clayton, Henry, and Kent raced around the outer wall. While they were on the inside, the place had seemed small and even confining. Having to run around it gave them a true appreciation for the size of the Sanctum.
Sweat poured down their bodies as they ran. In the back of their minds, they felt a clock ticking. The zombies were on the move and they knew it was a race to the back gate. If the zombies beat them, then things were going to get very interesting.
“I can’t remember the last time I ran for anything,” Kent said, panting heavily.
“You had it soft inside these walls,” Clayton said. “Running is what we did best on the outside.”
“Ditto,” Henry said.
They continued running with Henry out front, but when he slowed, then Clayton and Kent did the same.
“What is it?” Clayton asked.
“The hole in the wall is coming up,” Henry said, moving along at a fast jog. After another fifty feet, Henry said, “Everyone know their job?”
Clayton said, “I thought we were making this shit up as we went.”
Henry brought the trio to a stop outside the hole that had been made by the rocket-propelled grenade earlier. It wasn’t a large opening, but it was enough for zombies to get through. The gate was a much bigger issue, but there was no ignoring the hole.
“Clayton, you and I need to get that door outside the wall and use it to block this hole,” Henry said.
“That’s a tall order, son,” Clayton said, looking in at the metal door. “We don’t have a lot of options, I guess. Plus, it means that we have to go inside again.”
Henry turned to Kent and said, “You know what you need to do. Get that bulldozer moving.”
“Kid, I’m not sure how I’m going to get that left gate back in place,” Kent said as he surveyed the very gate he had blown through. “But I’ll do what I can.” The right gate had some damage, but was mostly intact. The left gate, though, was a total disaster.
How the hell he was going to get it back in place was beyond him. Back before the world fell, and he was working construction, his workmates called him a wizard with the big blade. He only hoped he could work his magic now.
The first step was to get the bulldozer into gear. He rushed to the big mechanical beast and climbed into the cab. Once he fell into the seat, he felt a surge of confidence rush over him. This was the only place in this zombie filled world where he did have that feeling. Most of the rest of the time, he was scared shitless.
He reached down and turned on the ignition, firing up the big engine and the beast rumbled to life, sounding like a locomotive. Smoke belched out of the smokestack and he started the bulldozer forward.
Seventy-five feet away, Clayton said, “This son of a bitch is heavy,” as he tilted the big metal door so that it could fit out the hole.
Henry was on the other end of the door, just outside the opening, his face as red as a beet from the exertion of keeping the door aloft.
“Once I get past the opening, let your side drop,” Clayton said. “You look like you’re about to bust a gut. I don’t want you to get a hernia.”
Henry did what he could, but as soon as Clayton got his end of the door extended outside the wall, Henry let his end clang down on the ground. Clayton pivoted, letting out a loud grunt. and then let his end fall five seconds later
Clayton turned around and grabbed the supports that had held the door in place inside the wall. “Get out of the way kid, we’re going to need these.” He began tossing them out of the hole. After he threw out the last one, he took a look into the interior of the Sanctum and jerked around toward Henry. “We’ve got deaders on the way.”
When Henry looked past Clayton, he saw a half dozen zombies off in the distance. While they were manageable, he knew they could be the leading edge of many, many more.
Clayton took a look through the hole and said, “Well, shit. I was hoping we’d have more time.”
“Me, too,” Henry said, “but it’s only a few.”
“From my experience, I’d guess there will be a lot more on their way behind these,” Clayton said. “The noise that bulldozer is making is going to draw them in like flies to shit.”
“Then, let’s get moving,” Henry said.
Kent had the bulldozer idling just a few feet inside the gate, the engine rumbling away, sounding like the growl of a dinosaur. He had just used the bulldozer to close the right gate, but since the left gate had been knocked off its hinges, there was a huge gap for the undead to stroll right out of the Sanctum. The impossible task of closing that gap with the fallen gate fell to Kent.
His tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he maneuvered the big blade of the ‘dozer under the corner of the fallen massive gate as it lay in the dirt. To Kent, it felt like he was using a sledgehammer to push a tack into a wall. Getting that gate upright was the first corner of business. Maneuvering it back into place was a challenge on a higher order of magnitude, but he knew he had to take it one step at a time.
Twice already, the blade had swept over the fallen gate, scraping along its rough exterior. Kent was careful not to drive over the gate, knowing that the massive weight of the bulldozer would snap it into pieces.
On the third attempt, he skillfully skimmed the blade along the dirt and the lip of the blade caught just under the edge of the gate. Like a maestro conducting a soft piece of a concert, he eased up on the controls and delicately lifted the gate off the ground with the blade. The move required that he also move forward to get the gate braced against the big metal blade.
When the gate went down, it fell off to the left of the entrance. Kent had positioned the bulldozer in such a way that if he moved forward, it might just push the gate back into the place it had left. He knew that was a long shot, but it was the only play he had. Henry and Clayton were tasked with blocking the blast hole in the wall and could not help. Besides, the gate weighed a few hundred pounds.
When he finally had the thing nearly upright, he stopped and gauged the distance between the bulldozer and the door, and he didn’t like what he saw. The gate was six feet further away than he liked. He couldn’t see anyway to get the gate to fall into place. At least, not in his first attempt.
Things got worse when he looked inside the gate and saw zombies shambling his way, apparently drawn in by the sound of his bulldozer. That was when he knew he wasn’t going to get two chances at this.
He took ten seconds to assess his next move and knew that wasn’t going to come up with a better plan. So he gently pressed the gate forward, while slowly dropping the blade down the gate as he pivoted the bulldozer. The move turned the bulldozer on its tracks, spinning the gate slightly.
Kent’s chief concern was the door falling flat against the wall. That would leave a huge gap between it and the opening, not doing them a damn bit of good. He had to make this happen, even if it was impossible.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, using his feet to apply tender pressure to the foot pedals, while also manipulating the hand controls on the blade. The bulldozer looked as if it were moving in slow motion, slowly pivoting. The blade fell to the middle of the big gate and miracles of miracles, the gate remained upright.
Sweat dripped down his face as he concentrated on keeping everything in a delicate balance. Move the blade too fast and the gate fell. Move the bulldozer too fast and the gate fell. He just didn’t see how he was going to pull it off, but the blade moved and the bulldozer pivoted like a giant turtle, slow and easy.
He got it to the point where, when he looked out over the front of the bulldozer, he could no longer see any gaps of light coming fro
m around the side of the gate. It was perfectly in place, like the piece of a jigsaw puzzle, ready to be slipped in to complete the most challenging puzzle ever designed.
That’s when things went to shit. The muscles in Kent’s legs were taxed to the limit from the run around the exterior and then having to use the fine control needed to maneuver the gate. He applied just one pound of pressure than he needed, and the gate began to wobble. The light that had been absent around its sides gashed through on each side, giving him different views into the Sanctum.
The gate was going to fall and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. So, he did what almost anyone would do. He panicked and jammed the gas pedal down just as the door toppled sideways, falling like the blade of an ax toward the ground. The only saving grace was that it hadn’t fallen on its face.
The engine roared, and the bulldozer jumped forward like an ancient primordial beast, launching itself at its prey.
Some alarm sounded in the back of Kent’s head and he let up on the gas to prevent the bulldozer from plowing right through the gate and into the Sanctum. When he looked up, he had a clear view into the Sanctum. While the gate had fallen into the gap between the right gate and the wall, it had slid onto its side, only blocking the bottom portion of the opening. Sooner or later, zombies were going to make their way over that gate.
Kent slumped his head onto the controls of the bulldozer and felt like crying.
Chapter 119
At the Front Gate
On the other side of the Sanctum, just outside the wall, Donovan, Lassiter, and Casey ran side-by-side at a steady, controlled pace. It would be a very bad thing if they ran headlong into a group of wandering zombies.
“Why didn’t we keep a car or a truck outside?” Casey asked.
“That was an oversight,” Lassiter said as he worked to get the words out.
The three of them continued to chug away, making decent progress as they ran on a curved path around the exterior. Their destination was the front gate, and the objective was closing that gate. Failing to do so would mean that everyone would either be dead or forced to go on the run. There was little doubt that it would mean that all the elderly in their community would die. Either by starvation or being killed outright by the zombies.
“Do you think we’re going to make it in time?” Casey asked in a breathy voice.
“Well, have to,” Lassiter said.
“But what if the zombies beat us to the gate?” She asked.
“Then we’ll have to shoot them,” Donovan said.
They made a hard turn around the final sharp corner, and the front gate was as wide open as they had left it. At that moment, there were no zombies in the area, but they had no idea what was coming toward that gate until they made it to the opening.
Without speaking, they all slowed down in concert as they got closer and closer to the gate. Each of them gripped their rifles a little tighter. They cut their pace almost to a crawl as they closed on the gate, and Lassiter put out an arm, motioning for the others to let him take the lead.
They came to a near-complete stop and began edging along the wall toward the main entrance. All three of them went dead quiet, not wanting to alert anyone or anything inside the gate.
The gates opened out, so Lassiter had to make a tight arcing path to get around the big open door. Still, he hugged close to the door. As he made it to just before the far edge, he put out a hand for Donovan and Casey to stop, and the three of them went silent. Lassiter closed his eyes to concentrate on just listening. What he heard when he totally focused shook him to the core.
The dead were on their way.
He had known that this was a possibility, but not one he wanted to face. The hall where the PA system was located wasn’t truly in the center of the Sanctum. It was at least two hundred yards closer to the front gate than it was the back gate. That was a good thing because the back gate was broken. Plus, there was a hole in the wall back there. So, if zombies had to be heading from one direction, the front way was better. That didn’t mean that Lassiter was cheerful about it. Far from it.
Lassiter swayed back toward Donovan and Casey and whispered, “They’re coming.”
“How many?” Donovan asked, putting on his game face.
Casey gripped her rifle so tightly her knuckles went white as the skin stretched tightly over the bones.
“Not sure,” Lassiter said. “Hold on.”
He slipped around them and moved back to where the gate met the side of the wall. He pressed his face into the small gap and peered through the tall, thin crack between the gate and the wall. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but more manageable than he feared. Still, the idea of having to take on any amount of the deaders wasn’t something he wanted to do. But the voice of his drill sergeant from boot camp echoed back to him over the years. It’s not what you want to do. It's what you need to do.
That thought didn’t make it any easier, but the job was the job.
Lassiter pulled back and said, “About a dozen. We can take’em.” He tried to put as much bravado into the statement as he could.
As a member of Eli’s security team, he had faced down the dead, but it had always been controlled because they had the defensive edge with the wall. If they were out in the field, they usually had enough firepower to take on whatever roaming dead they encountered. In this case, there were only three of them, and the more noise they made, the more dead that would come. It was a classic damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario.
As if reading his mind, Casey asked. “Are we actually shooting?”
Lassiter rubbed his chin for a moment as he pondered Casey’s question.
After a pregnant pause, he said, “I sure as hell don’t want to club them to death with my gun.”
“But shooting will just bring more,” Donovan said.
“Maybe that’s what we need to do?” Lassiter said.
“Are you crazy?” Casey asked, her eyes getting wide.
“No, no,” Lassiter replied. “Listen up. The back gate is compromised. If what they’re saying is true, the gate is off its hinges, and there is a damn hole in the wall. All we have to do is close our gate, so we have it easier.”
“Taking on a dozen zombies doesn’t sound all that easy to me,” Casey replied.
Lassiter held up his rifle and said, “But we have these.”
“So, we are shooting them?” Casey asked, sounding exasperated.
“We can take the ones coming our way and close the gate before more come,” Lassiter said.
“How do we do that?” Casey said, looking surly.
“Very carefully,” Lassiter said.
Chapter 120
Waiting is the Hardest Part
“What do you think is happening out there?” Jo asked, standing a few feet in front of Sergeant Jones with her arms crossed behind her back and her hands clasped.
“You should get out of here,” Jones said from an overstuffed leather chair. He looked utterly tapped out. The adrenaline injection Doc Wilson had given him was long gone, and there was only the residue of the pain meds remained. Every wound on his body ached. In places, it felt like the pieces of shrapnel the doctor had removed were still there, burning like ebbing embers. It took energy to stay awake even as the pain burned away in places on his body.
“Not happening,” Jo replied, taking two steps toward the big bank of windows and craning her neck out to look in all directions.
What she saw was a whole lot of nothing. Everyone had left, and she and Jones were alone. Across from the building they were in was another red brick building, stylishly consistent with almost all the other buildings on campus. Between the two buildings was a cobblestone walkway with brown leaves drifting down it from a breeze coming out of the west.
It looked almost idyllic. A college campus on the precipice of autumn. The only thing missing were students and the sweet tang of beer wafting in the air.
The reality was quite different. Jo and Sergeant Jones
were basically trapped inside this building, waiting for others to decide their fate. Jo seemed both resigned and almost tranquil with the decision to stay with the sergeant. Jones, on the other hand, didn’t like the idea that she had decided to stay with him. He didn’t like it at all.
“You need to go,” he said. “You need to do it now before it’s too late.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with her back to him.
“Please,” Jones said, and she could hear the aching in his voice.
She slowly turned around and looked Jones in the eyes. “You need to have faith.”
She walked toward him, and when she got to him, she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I have faith in Henry, Donovan, Clayton, and the others.”
Jones tilted his head and looked at Jo through eyes narrowed by pain and skepticism. “It’s one crazy-ass plan, and I’m glad you have faith in it, but it’s a long shot. A real Hail Mary.”
“Oh, you of little faith,” Jo said as she placed a hand on his shaved head.
“Okay, getting all those zombies inside is not a bad idea, but keeping them inside is going to be hard. Those undead bastards always seem to find a way to get what they want. Then there’s the smart zombies with those damned rocket launchers.” He shook his head.
She slid her hand over his head, down onto the back of his neck, and pulled him close to her. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.
“I know,” she said. “I feel the same way, but what choice do we have?”
Jones put his elbows on his knees and then lowered his head into his hands, resting it there. Quietly, he said, “Not much of one for me.” He paused for a moment and looked up at her. “You -- have a choice. You don’t have to stay with me. If this goes bad, then you could die. If you get outside the wall, then you can make a run for it. You could have a chance.”
The Deadland Chronicles | Book 4 | Siege of the Dead: Page 49
