The Survival

by Damon Hunter

  Gavin brought the knife down as hard as could on the top of the ambler’s head. It took him three hard stabs to the ambler’s rot-sickened brain to get it to let go of Donna.

  By the time Gavin had killed the ambler, the other one was nearly on top of all of them, coming straight for Jennifer. Jennifer let go of Gavin so she could move out of the way. Gavin grabbed Donna to keep from falling and they both went down to the ground.

  Jennifer was unable to avoid the ambler. It grabbed her and pushed her into the wall. Jennifer was looking into its open mouth when Katelin stepped around the corner and put the barrel of her gun to its forehead and put a nine millimeter slug-sized hole in the thing’s brain.

  Bar came around the corner and helped Donna and Gavin up. They went through the open back gate. Once everyone was through, Donna closed and latched the gate. The closed gate stymied the first wave to run into it. All of them except Jennifer, having seen the infected climb up on top of each other to scale much higher things than the fence, did not feel any comfort being in the back yard.

  Jennifer moved to the back door, but stopped as she saw the dog leaping against the glass in an attempt to get to them. The dog was not alone. The infected couple who owned the house moved to the glass and started pounding on it.

  “I guess it was just as well the door was locked,” Jennifer said.

  “What now?” Donna asked.

  Katelin pointed at the fence. “I think we can go over the fence and put another yard between us and them.”

  Donna pointed at Bar’s broken arm. “That might not be an option for all of us.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Bar said as he stuffed more shells into his shotgun, “get your ass over the fence.”

  “We need you to sail the boat,” Donna said, sensing he may be planning to stay behind and buy them some time.

  “Just get your nice ass over the fence,” Bar said.

  Donna left him and ran for the fence, vaulting over to join the other three, who were already on the other side. The yard they had been in shared a fence with the house directly behind them. They found themselves in another backyard.

  Jennifer ran to the back door which, unlike the others in the neighborhood they had encountered, were wooden ranch doors instead of a glass slider. Above the doors was a long wooden sign declaring this was the home of the Abbotts.

  “Locked again,” Jennifer told them.

  “Move away,” Katelin said as she took aim at the door, planning to put some bullets where the dead bolt must be.

  Jennifer was about to say something about how blowing out the lock would let the amblers in as well as them, but looking around, she did not see anywhere else to go. It was a bad idea, but it was still the best idea any of them had.

  Except Gavin, who said, “Wait,” as he stepped in front of Katelin and pointed at the doggy door the homeowners had installed in the bottom corner of one of the doors. “I can get through.”

  “That doggy door means there might be an infected dog inside,” Donna said.

  Gavin pushed the door and said, “It can go in or out. If an infected dog was inside I think he would have already come to get us.”

  “I don’t know,” Donna began, but Gavin already had his head inside.

  Gavin did not get far as his satchel with his newly blood and brain-covered knife stopped him as it caught on the corner. He backed out long enough to toss his satchel inside and went back in. This time his belt caught as Gavin found either he was wider, or the pet door was narrower, than he thought.

  He tried to power through but all he did was wedge himself in tighter, with half his body outside and the other in. He tried to twist around and wiggle through, but what little room he had to twist did not bring him closer to getting free.

  He heard a noise like footsteps and looked into the house. At first all he saw was a pair of shoes, but as he kept looking up he saw the shoes were attached to a drooling ambler heading his direction. The dog may not be around anymore but his infected owner was.

  Gavin tried to back out, but had even less success going out as he had going in. He looked for his satchel and the knife. When he tossed them inside he had thrown them a little too hard. He reached for it but it was inches out of his grasp. The way he was wedged tight in the pet door, the inches might as well have been miles.

  He started yelling for help as the ambler headed his way. He could feel someone pulling on his feet but while he could feel his legs being stretched out, he was not getting any closer to getting out of the trap he had put himself in.

  Chapter 24

  Sleeping Indian Road - Fallbrook, CA

  “Are there rogue TMRT personnel roaming the rot-infested wasteland southern California has become? My sources, and remember the quality of my sources is beyond reliable, say yes. Are they there as part of the plot to initiate a nuclear exchange between us and various nefarious forces out of Asia? That remains to be seen.”

  Vance reached inside and turned the radio off, saying, “I can say for a fact I’m not an agent for nefarious Asian forces.”

  “Good to hear,” Bo said. “Appears the only thing out over the airwaves is still that idiot.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “It’s crazy to think you and Clay volunteered to come into this mess,” Bo said as he leaned back into his seat. Vance had cleaned Bo’s wound and slathered it in antibiotic cream before patching it up with some tape and gauze.

  Vance’s wound did not need near the work but he was glad to have Bo put a new bandage and some more antibiotic cream on the gash in his thigh.

  Vance used a bottle of water he found in the back to wash down a couple of asprins. Bo had already done the same. He looked at the young man, who looked like he should be getting ready to do some surfing or attending a college class instead of fighting the infected, and said, “Sometimes I don’t think things through.”

  Bo laughed. “Me neither. Though I never fucked up this bad before.”

  “Hopefully we both get a chance to fuck up again.”

  “No kidding,” Bo said as he picked his shirt up off the seat. Looking at the blood stains and the way it was ripped up and around the shoulder, he decided to leave it off.

  They both froze when they heard the sounds of big vehicles coming up the road towards them. Vance grabbed his rifle and Bo picked up a pistol.

  “Infected haven’t started driving yet, have they?” Bo asked.

  “No.”

  “Then do we need the guns? Sounds like some more members of team human coming up the road.”

  “Let’s hang onto our guns until we are sure they know it,” Vance said. As he spoke, they both heard the sounds of another vehicle approaching from the other side.

  “Coincidence?” Bo asked.

  “Not likely,” Vance said.

  The Hummer stopped in front of them, close to the entrance to the driveway the others had gone down to find transportation. As it came to a stop, one of the pickups came around the back. Vance looked back to see two armed men standing in the back of the pickup, holding rifles. Another armed man got out of the passenger side. None of them pointed the guns at them but it would not take a lot of effort to do so if they felt the need.

  A big man wearing wraparound sunglasses, dressed in camouflage from head to toe, and sporting a shaved head and a long beard exited the Hummer, followed closely behind by another man who was basically a smaller version of the first man. The first man carried a Desert Eagle .50 loosely at his side.

  While Vance and Bo were watching these two approach, two more armed men got out of the Hummer.

  “Patriots?” the big bearded man asked them.

  Bo shrugged and said, “Team human.”

  Vance nodded in agreement.

  “Not the same thing,” the big man said.

  “Today it is,” Vance told him.

  “Maybe,” the big man said. “I’m going to need you to put down your weapons.”

  “We will when you do the same,” Vance t
old him.

  “Ain’t happening.”

  “Then I guess we all stay armed.”

  “You’re outgunned.”

  “Well, you do have more of them, but in my experience in firefights it isn’t really about volume of weapons. Your experience different?” Vance asked him.

  The big man did not answer.

  His partner said, “No need to be hostile. We are on the same side. Someone we are working with wants to meet you. He believes it is important to all of us.”

  “Who?” Vance asked.

  Before anyone could answer, Clay came up behind one of the armed men standing by the Hummer and put the barrel of his pistol on the man’s head.

  On the other side, Ben, now holding a Desert Eagle of his own, did the same to the other armed man.

  “You might want to put down your weapon,” Clay told them. The two men with gun barrels massaging their temples did as they were told.

  “If you are wondering where the pickup truck full of guys you had go down the driveway to fetch us is, they are zip tied in the bed being watched over by a very trigger happy young woman,” Clay said.

  The men on the other side of the Urban Assault Wagon began to move, but Ben said, “I see you lean forward, let alone take another step, and we start shooting.”

  “As I said before,” the shorter man said, “there is no need for hostilities. My name is Dolan, and this is our commander Norris.”

  “Commander?” Vance asked.

  “Commander of the Sacred Sons of America’s True Patriots Militia, west coast division,” Norris told them.

  “Great,” Clay said, “and I thought the Southwestern Apocalypse Response Team sounded funny.”

  Before Norris could respond, Vance said, “You said someone wanted to meet us.”

  “Yes. Cam Carson has requested your presence at his secure compound. It might be the safest place in the QZ right now,” Dolan told them.

  “He’s right, the Sacred Sons of America’s True Patriots are providing security,” Norris added.

  “That is not filling me with confidence,” Clay said.

  “Why would I want to meet Carson?” Vance asked.

  “Other than he is a true American hero?” Norris replied.

  “Other than that.”

  “It’s not just him. Really, he is not all that important. The Korean agent who reached out to him, however, is,” Dolan told them.

  “How so?”

  “It would be better to hear it from him.”

  Vance pointed towards Oceanside. “I have people in the city I need to get back to.”

  “Okay, but then what?” Dolan asked. “You and them will still be trapped in the QZ.”

  “That is my business.”

  “I think we are going to need to borrow a vehicle,” Clay said. He looked at Norris. “Mind if we take the Hummer?”

  “Wait,” Dolan said, “this is important. I don’t know what you have planned but whatever it is, I guarantee you want to talk to the Korean first. We can get your people and take them to the compound. I would bet it is safer there than whatever you have in mind.”

  Vance looked skeptical.

  “Like he said,” Dolan said, motioning to Bo, “we’re all team human here.”

  “It’s that or we shoot it out,” Norris said. “The Hummer is vital to my cause and I’m willing to die for my cause.”

  Mainly because Vance was sure they were wasting time they did not have, he checked his watch to see just how much time they were wasting. He saw it was on the hour, the time he said he would check his messages in case Donna needed help. It had not been very long since he last checked, but Donna would not know he checked only fifteen minutes ago.

  Everyone gave him a funny looked when he retrieved his phone.

  “I’m sure they will call back,” Norris told him.

  Looking at the phone, Vance could see Donna had sent a message.

  Judging by the look on his face, Dolan could tell something was wrong, “You’ve got trouble. Why don’t you let us help?”

  Bo saw the same thing and asked, “They in trouble?”

  Vance nodded.

  “Who’s in trouble?” Dolan asked.

  “My family, and others who have helped us.”

  The man with Clay’s pistol on his temple said, “Look, no hard feelings here about the gun on my skull. When Dolan said we would help, he meant it.”

  The other men echoed similar sentiments.

  Norris nodded. “Like the hippie said, team human.”

  Chapter 25

  The Abbotts’ house - Oceanside, CA

  Gavin saw the pus from the ambler’s popping sores hit the kitchen tile as it moved towards him. Gavin pushed harder to get back out, but he could not get himself free.

  The ambler was leaning down to bite him when a pane of glass shattered and one of Katelin’s katanas thrust through the hole in the glass and stabbed the ambler in the face. The blade went all the way through until it was sticking out the back of the thing’s neck.

  Somehow Katelin had managed to shove the sword all the way through the amblers head without hitting anything vital. It reached up and grabbed the blade, probably planning to pull it away from Katelin’s grasp. Trying to grab onto the sharp katana only resulted in the ambler losing a couple of fingers which fell down onto Gavin.

  While Katelin and the ambler played a strange tug of war with the katana, Gavin twisted again and got a look back at what was holding him in the pet door. He could see that part of it was his own girth, but mostly it was the way his belt had caught the edge of the small door.

  Pus, drool and blood rained down on him as he reached back and attempted to unhook his belt from the lip of the door. It was too tight and he could not get it to budge. He looked up to see the ambler thrashing back in forth in an attempt to get the blade out of his face. He also saw he was not the only ambler in the house. Mrs. Abbott was infected as well and headed his way.

  Gavin undid his belt and pulled it off. Without the belt holding him in place he was able to wiggle through, putting himself at the the feet ofthe ambler still fighting with Katelin over the sword. He scrambled for his own knife and was pulling it from the satchel when he heard Katelin say, “Hold this.”

  A second later, Katelin’s Tec-Nine barked, putting a hole in the glass and the ambler’s head. With it dead, whoever was holding the sword was able to pull it free.

  The infected Mrs. Abbott was closing in when Gavin stepped on top of her fallen husband and unlocked the door. Gavin opened it and saw Jennifer standing there with the sword and Katelin with her guns.

  Gavin pointed back to the ambler and then ducked to let Katelin shoot it. He risked a look up when Katelin did not fire to see Jennifer step inside and hack into the infected Mrs. Abbott until Mrs. Abbott was down and unable to get up.

  Gavin looked to see Donna had her phone out and was texting someone. She saw him looking and said, “I’m calling for help.”

  Gavin nodded as they both heard Bar’s shotgun roar from the other side of the fence.

  “Is he coming?” Gavin asked.

  Donna shook her head as she stepped inside and closed and locked the door. Donna looked back to the fence as she heard his shotgun again.

  “Goodbye, Bar,” she said aloud, thinking she would never see the big, old, drunk sailor, who had saved her life more than once, again.

  She was just about to turn around and not look back when she saw a shotgun blast hit the fence. A moment later Bar came busting through, leading with the shoulder on his good arm.

  Donna unlocked the door and opened it for the sailor who was moving as fast as he could across the yard. He reached the patio when the infected found the hole he had made in the fence and started coming through it themselves.

  He stepped inside and Donna shut the door as the backyard began to fill up with the infected.

  “You know that whole self-sacrifice martyr thing is really overrated,” Bar told Donna as she locked the door.
“Hope you don’t mind.”

  “When you said I had a nice ass, did you mean it?”

  “Totally.”

  “Then to me you are worth keeping around.”

  “I brought the horde with me.”

  “They were coming anyway.”

  They left the kitchen where Abbotts lay making a bloody mess of the tile and found the others in the front room.

  “We can’t stay here long,” Katelin said as she reloaded her guns, making sure each one had a full magazine. “They have proven they don’t mind busting in a window and this house has no shortage of them.”

  “I texted your dad the situation and our location. He should be coming.”

  Jennifer, still holding the bloody katana, looked out the front window and said, “I don’t think we will have enough time.”

  “Then what should we do?” Bar said.

  “Make a stand and hope the cavalry gets here in time,” Donna told them.

  “Fuck that,” Katelin said.

  “Language,” Donna told her.

  “You got something in mind?” Bar asked Katelin. “If I wanted to make a last stand I could have saved myself a sprint across the yard.”

  As an answer, Katelin went into the kitchen and came back with a set of keys, twirling them on her finger as she said, “I say we drive out before it gets too thick. Once we are clear of the horde, you can text him our location.”

  Bar looked at Donna. “It does have possibilities and like I said, that whole last stand thing gets old quick.”

  “I suppose you may have a point,” Donna said as the horde began to pound on the back door.

  Katelin stopped spinning the keys and looked at the one which was clearly for a vehicle.

  “Toyota,” she said reading the words on the key out loud. “I hope it is a four runner or a Highlander.”

  Bar nodded and said, “Bigger the better. We may have to plow through a bunch of them to get clear.”

  Glass was breaking when they found the door for the garage and went inside. Parked in the middle was a shiny black Toyota Prius.

  “Is that, like, a hybrid?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yep,” said Donna.