by Glyn Gardner
“Williams!” he yelled. The trooper looked up, terror in his eyes. Several of the zombies were within a few feet of the soldier.
“Here,” he dropped the pistol and an extra magazine. Williams snatched them up as he continued skirting the building. Sgt Procell and Jefferson were firing as fast as they could acquire targets. Zombies were falling, some only a foot or two from Williams.
Pvt John Williams had never been so scared. He didn’t have time to regret his stupidity. He was too busy trying to find a way through the mass of dead flesh. He could hear firing from the roof. He didn’t worry about looking over his shoulder. He knew someone was covering that quarter. He concentrated on moving.
A zombie grabbed his shirt from the right. He wheeled around to shoot it in the face. As he did, the head exploded. He was showered with black gore. He kicked the zombie in the chest, causing the lifeless hand to release its grip.
He was nearing the next corner. Several zombies were down in front of him. The volume of fire from above was picking up. He rounded the corner and came to a complete stop. In front of him it was a solid mass of dead flesh. There was no getting around it. But he had to move, the mass of flesh was moving towards him.
“Guys!” he yelled.
“Back!” SSgt Brown ordered the trooper.
When he turned, he saw just how many zombies that had been behind him. Too many, he thought. There’s too many. The closest ones were within a few feet away. He raised the pistol and shot the closest one in the face. Black mist exploded behind the zombie’s head.
The next zombie was almost within arm’s reach. Williams couldn’t help but notice how she must have been a pretty girl when she was alive. Her pale eyes still had a hint of green in them. Her lips still showed signs of lipstick. How odd, he thought, gray skin and ruby red lips. Her hair was long with the slightest curl.
Suddenly her head exploded into a black, pink mist.
“Rope,” Sgt Procell yelled down. “Grab the rope!”
He wrapped the rope around his left arm and grabbed it with his right. The others pulled. Williams was pulled several feet off of the ground. Another tug and he was lifted several more feet up.
Suddenly something grabbed his left foot. He looked down. It was a huge zombie. This guy must have been over six feet tall when he was alive. And now, he had hold of Williams’ ankle. It pulled hard, bringing Williams down a foot or so and closer to the creature’s open mouth.
Williams kicked at the creature with his free leg, connecting with its face several times. The kicks had no effect. He tried to raise his leg into a squatting position. He couldn’t. This thing was heavy.
“Hurry up!” he screamed. “Hurry!” He continued to kick and try to squirm away from the big zombie.
He felt himself move up the wall another foot or so. The zombie held on. Oh, his arm hurt! It felt like his left shoulder was going to get pulled out of socket. The gun was in his waist band. He was too afraid to let go. He tried to pull himself up. No good. This monster was too heavy.
There was another heave from above, another few feet up. He glanced at the zombie. Its feet were off the ground. Then he felt it. It sent a chill up his spine. The zombie was slowly climbing him. At first he felt a hand grab his other leg high up by the knee. Then the first hand dug into his hip as it grasped his belt, the fingernails leaving large gashes in his hip.
He let out a scream. The zombie’s hand clawed at his back as it tried to climb higher. He could feel the blood running down his back and hip. He planted his feet on the building and shoved off in an attempt to buck the unwanted rider. When they hit the wall, it knocked the wind out of Williams.
Finally, he heard a gunshot. The ghoul released its grip on the trooper. He could feel himself being propelled up and over the edge. He rolled over onto his back. He couldn’t stop the tears. No one blamed him.
Sgt Procell was walking the rooftop with Mike. The mass of zombies had grown even more since Pvt Williams had fallen from the roof. The moaning was beginning to get unbearable. He looked at Mike. The pudgier man had resorted to covering his ears with his hands as he patrolled the roof.
“Sick and tired of all this moaning,” the NCO said.
“Yeah me too,” Mike answered. “Do you think they know how irritating that infernal moaning is?”
“Irritating? Hell, it looks like a dang mating call. I wish my duck call worked so well.”
“Hello boys,” Jen announced as she climbed onto the roof. She was carrying a plastic bag in her hand.
“Hey sweetheart,” Mike answered with a smile.
“Yeah, hi honey,” Sgt Procell joked. Jen and Mike laughed.
“Not with my husband around,” Jen said as she choked back her laughter.
“Oh, he wishes,” Mike chimed in. He rubbed his belly. “No skinny little GI Joe can steal woman from big fat man.”
The trio laughed. Jen couldn’t help but think it’d been a while since she’d laughed. Leave it to her husband to hit her funny bone.
“Here,” she said still giggling. “Dinner is served.” The two men looked at their meager fair: A couple of beef jerky sticks, a sleeve of crackers, a couple of very ripe apples, and two bottles of water.
“While I absolutely love the service here, the food quality has been going downhill,” announced Sgt Procell.
“If you can find reservations at another establishment sir,” Jen quipped. “You are more than welcome to cancel your reservation.” She pointed to the mass of undead clawing at the walls. “As you can tell we have people dying to get in here.” The moaning got louder from the side of the building she’d just leaned over.
“No thank you ma’am,” replied the soldier. “Despite my earlier statement, I believe this is the best joint in town.”
“Joint huh?”
“I mean fine dining establishment,” he corrected himself.
She chuckled as she kissed Mike on the cheek. “See you in a bit,” she said as she descended the ladder.
Day 21
The Vet Clinic
“Well, I guess we can drain the hot water heater,” Sgt Procell said. They could all hear the frustration in his voice. “It should have a good bit of water. I don’t know maybe 50 gallons or something like that. It should be enough for us to flush the toilet for maybe another week if we use it sparingly.”
“We have to do something,” Jen said. “The toilet on the roof was a bad idea. We need to do something.”
“It’s a temporary fix at best,” the soldier said. “There just isn’t any running water in here.”
SSgt Brown knew what the younger man was getting at. They were going to have to leave sometime. If they stayed here, they were going to die of dehydration soon. He’d seen what was in the storeroom this morning. He counted eight cases of water bottles. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 18 people, less than 200 bottles of water. Each person would use about 5 or 6 per day. They had about two days worth of water left.
“Ok,” he interjected. “We don’t have to leave today. So, how about you guys see if you can get some water out of that heater?”
“Jen,” he looked to the nurse. “Do you think we can drink the water in the hot water tank?”
“I would think it would be ok,” she answered. “Let’s look at it and see if it’s clear first. We can go from there.”
The group split up to take care of the morning chores. SSgt Brown asked Sgt Procell to get someone working on the hot water heater and to meet him in the vet’s office. A few minutes later the two Non-Commissioned Officers were conferring over a map of the area.
“I’m still thinking if we can get to the river, we can move north,” SSgt Brown said.
“What if we cross the river and then head north? I-55 runs north. We could have some nice big road, lots of gas stations where we can fuel up.”
“I don’t know. If we get on I-55, we’re going to have to hit Memphis. That’s a big city. If this thing has made it there, we’re going to be walking into a horn
et’s nest.”
“Na, 55 skirts the western side of the city. We should be able to stay away from the most populated areas.”
“Then what,” he asked. “You want to get anywhere, St. Louis?”
“We can always try to cut west again after we get through Memphis, maybe here at Sikeston. This road looks like it might be pretty rural the entire way across Missouri.”
SSgt Brown sat back and thought about it for a second. He wanted so badly to avoid population centers. But, he knew that all roads lead through one city or another. The big question is which cities would be safe and which ones would be death traps.
“Ok, we cross the river and head north around Memphis. We cut across Missouri at Sikeston. We can take that almost all the way to Wichita Kansas if we want, then north to the Dakotas.”
“That sounds good, now for the million dollar question.” He paused for effect. “How do we get out of here?”
SSgt Brown sat back in his chair. That really was the million dollar question. The HMMWV was still blocking the door. They could climb in through the turret ring. But, only about five people can fit in the HMMWV. That leaves 11 people without a ride. The LMTV was about 20 yards past the HMMWV’s bumper. There were a lot of zombies between that bumper and the truck. There was also the panel van. It was a good 50 yards from the front door.
“We need to get the truck closer to the door,” he finally answered.
“There’s more in there,” Pvt Williams said.
“I know,” Pvt Jefferson replied angrily. “I just can’t get anymore out. I’ve tipped this thing as far as it’ll go. It’s fucking connected.”
“C’mon man,” Williams prodded. “Put some ass behind it. We need all the water we can get.”
The young Private looked at the bucket. They’d filled several of them, but this one was only about 1/3 full. Damn it, he thought. He pushed hard with his feet, throwing his shoulder into the large white tank. It finally tipped with a loud pop.
“There, take that!” Water started to poor from the faucet at the bottom of the large white cylinder. The smell of sulfur quickly filled the room. Uh-oh thought Williams.
“Shit, that’s gas!”
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The tank was leaning on William’s shoulder. He started to move. The tank squealed. Crap, he couldn’t get out from under it without it falling. Jefferson was already at the door.
“C’mon man, what are you waiting on?” He reached for the door handle.
“I can’t let go. Tank’s gonna fall,” Williams answered.
“Shit man, just drop it.”
“I do, it might spark. You gotta get some help.”
“Na man, I ain’t leaving you here. You drop it and I’ll get the door. If it sparks, you’ll be outside the door before it hits the ground.”
Damn it! This is as bad as yesterday, Williams thought. What the hell did I do to piss God off? Fuck it! He shoved the tank up onto its pedestal, and ran towards the door. He could hear the tank squeal as the bottom of it scraped along the metal base. He did not hear, nor did he see, the spark that ignited the natural gas that was rapidly filling the room.
Jefferson swung the door open as Pvt. Williams dropped the water tank. He didn’t see the spark either. His mind was able to register, just for a brief moment, the flames racing towards him. He was almost able to turn his head before they reached him.
The flame raced past the two soldiers, burning skin and lungs as it did. Pvt. Jefferson’s uniform burst into flames from the heat. All of the hair on his body was burned off. His skin bubbled. Every nerve in his body screamed as his flesh was seared.
The room heated to approximately 1,000 degrees Celsius instantly. Jefferson was able to manage a single scream. When he inhaled, his lungs burned as if he’d inhaled a thousand suns. He couldn’t scream again. He fell to the ground, lungs filling with fluid. He struggled to take another breath for a few panicked seconds. Then, he could hear bells. The world went dark. Death finally released him from his pain and panic.
Jen was the first person on the scene. The room was engulfed in flames. The two soldiers were on the ground, engulfed in flames. Neither was moving. She ran for a blanket to extinguish the flames, yelling for help as she did.
Mr. Love answered her call with a fire extinguisher. He first extinguished Jefferson and then began attempting to extinguish the room. Fog quickly filled the room. He was able to extinguish the body of Pvt. Williams, but it was too late for either soldier.
Inside the room, the leaking gas continued to feed the flame. The bright flame behind the fog gave the room an eerie feel. It also served to hide the six foot hole that the water tank had blown through the outer wall.
Mr. Love reached for the body of Pvt Williams. As he did, he noticed something moving between himself and the fog shroud light on the other side of the room. He wondered who else was in the room. It didn’t occur to him that no one in the room should be alive after the flash fire. He stood up slack jawed, confused.
Mr. LaBlanc and two of the boy students ran into the room with fire extinguishers. He could see that Mr. Love was already in the room, and the flames were mostly extinguished. He could see that the other teacher seemed to be struggling with someone. He assumed it was someone injured in the blast.
“Boys,” he ordered the two. “Go help Mr. Love.” He reached down and grabbed Pvt Jefferson by his still smoking wrist and attempted to drag him out of the doorway. The skin sloughed off in his hands. He recoiled, repulsed by the gore.
A scream came from inside the room. Mr. LaBlanc couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The fog in the room had mostly dissipated. There before him was something straight out of a horror movie. Mr. Love was on the ground kicking in a death struggle with… Wait… Is that… A zombie! How the hell? The two boys were also on the ground. One was kicking quietly, the other was screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Hey!” was all the teacher could manage. Several of the monsters took note of the teacher in the doorway. They advanced on him. All he could think to do was to back up. He was so terrified, he didn’t even think about closing the door. Suddenly, a hand reached for him. He slapped it away. The ghoul tried again. He slapped it away again. Finally, several zombies grabbed for him at once. He couldn’t defend himself.
“Help!” he cried out. “Jesus, help me!”
Jen rounded the corner with a blanket about that time. She recognized what was happening immediately. She reached for her pistol which was still on her hip. She’d promised Mike weeks ago that she wouldn’t even take a piss without it. She fired into the head of a large zombie from point blank range. The zombie’s head snapped back and it released its grip on the teacher.
She fired at another, but missed its head and hit it in the neck. It crumpled to the ground, its spine severed by the bullet. It still managed to hold onto the teacher as it fell, pulling him to the ground as it went. The other attacking zombies fell on the teacher, biting and tearing at his flesh. He screamed for a few moments then fell silent.
SSgt Brown and Mike rounded the corner weapons at the ready. Jen realized that one of the dogs had started barking. SSgt Brown realized immediately they had been breached.
“Get to the kennels!” he ordered. “Go now!” He ran towards the reception area.
“Jackson,” he yelled. “Get to the kennels. We have a breach!” He heard a chair crash to the ground, and the sound of the young trooper’s boots hitting the concrete floors. He turned and took one more look down the hallway. It was quickly filling up with a mass of rotting flesh.
“Last man,” the young man said, slapping the big NCO’s shoulder as he passed. SSgt Brown turned and trotted towards the kennels, followed by the sound of screaming and moaning.
“Up the ladder everyone!” he ordered.
He looked at the stacked boxes in the corner. “Procell get the rest of the supplies!” He started handing supplies up the ladder. When they finished, he began sending the rest of t
he group up the ladder.
One of the children, a young girl named Brianna, ran to the dogs cowering in the corner. She hugged the smallest one. “What about the dogs?” The German shepherd they’d named Duke was barking wildly at the door. A large zombie stumbled into the fencing, and began shaking it violently.
“Leave them here. We have to go,” he ordered as he began climbing the ladder.
Brianna ran to the fence and threw it open. “Go, Duke, go!” The dog charged the zombie, knocking it to the ground.
“Get ‘um Duke,” she cheered. She turned towards the ladder. SSgt Brown was almost at the top. As she took her first step, her head snapped back as a zombie pulled her by the hair. She screamed. She tried to twist around, but the zombie’s grip was too strong.
She heard Duke let out a loud yelp. Turning her head she could see the dog backing away from a zombie, blood streaking the floor under the dog’s front paw. He turned on the zombie holding the girl’s hair and lunged. She could see the wound on the dog’s paw as it flew past her head knocking the monster to the ground.
Her head jerked again and she fell to the ground. The monster released her hair as it began grappling with the animal. Brianna almost made it to her feet when Duke’s limp body skidded into her, undercutting her knees. She fell again. This time the floor was slick with blood. She wasn’t able to get her hands under her without them slipping.
She felt the weight of several zombies on her legs and back. She tried to turn over and defend herself. She couldn’t. She was just able to catch a glimpse of Duke’s lifeless body. It was torn in half.
“NO!” she cried out in anguish. She reached for the dead dog. She felt the first bite on her leg. She screamed again, and tried to kick with her other leg. Then another zombie bit her back. The pain was excruciating. She continued screaming and flailing any body part that wasn’t pinned by a zombie. Finally, her brain starved of blood, the world went dark and she passed out.
“Can you see her?” Mrs. Arrington screamed.
SSgt Brown ducked his head back into the skylight. Suddenly a zombie appeared at the bottom of the ladder, then another and another. That was enough for him. He lifted the ladder about a foot and tilted it, allowing it to fall to the floor.
