by W J Hegarty
Takashi’s radio shattered the silence. Bonnie jumped, as if one of those creatures had just reached from beneath her seat. “Sir, can you hear me?” It was Miller from almost a half a mile down the road but with a clear line of sight to Takashi’s predicament. “Colonel, stay put. We’re coming for you. What is your ammo situation and how many survivors are with you? Over.” Miller’s voice betrayed his sense of complete uncertainty.
Miller’s concern wasn’t lost on Takashi or Glen and his family. His tone was unmistakable. The hopelessness in his voice finally caused Glen’s son to begin sobbing. His mother tried to console him as tears of her own mixed with his upon the child’s soft cheeks.
On the other side of the gate just out of town, Tobias had pulled over. Miller stood at the side of the road, peering through a rifle’s scope. At nearly half a mile away, Miller could clearly make out the clogged bottleneck, the hint of Glen’s roof periodically showing through the mass. The carriers were packed in shoulder to shoulder as they squeezed through the narrow entranceway on their trek into town. A few of the creatures managed to get themselves pushed to the sides of the mass only to be pinned against the walls of the gate. By sheer numbers of weight and force, the ones unlucky enough to find themselves pinned were crushed and pulled apart as the horde lumbered ever forward. Miller lost Glen’s car again. This time it remained buried.
Aiko’s finger bounced around her rifle’s trigger guard. She periodically turned her attention to Miller while guarding the perimeter. Leaving Takashi behind was unthinkable, and under normal circumstances, she would have been right behind Miller in an attempt at rescue. This was different, though. Superior firepower didn’t scare these things away. How in the hell could two beat-up soldiers and a terrified family possibly make a difference here? she wondered. “What are we doing, Miller?” she asked anxiously, rifle still trained on nothing.
“Quiet!” he replied. “Hold your ground.” Miller tried the radio again, not sure if he would even get a response. The idea of being thrust into command if the worse were to happen began to stir. “Sir, please, if you can hear me, we are coming for you. Hold your position,” Miller pleaded. He checked his scope again. Carriers came in and out of view as his body swayed. Targets down the line that were normally easy kills became uncertain. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Let him go, sir,” Aiko said solemnly.
Aiko loved Takashi, probably more than Miller could ever understand, but things were different for the captain. Miller came to miss his father in all of this, and Takashi became a surrogate of sorts. That wasn’t something easily discarded.
Takashi finally answered. “That’s a negative, Miller. Repeat, negative. Do not attempt rescue. Do you copy?”
The radio went silent again, but for a brief moment, Miller could make out the distinct sounds of a child sobbing and what was unmistakably the voice of a heartbroken mother lying to her son.
“Sir?” Miller ran his free hand through his filthy hair. He turned back toward Tobias’s SUV and the awaiting eyes inside, then over to Aiko, who he refused to make eye contact with, and finally back to the flooded gate. He paced relentlessly, trekking farther away from the relative safety of the vehicle.
Aiko tracked Miller’s movements. She followed his position, slowly inching her way back toward her commanding officer. Aiko had accepted that Takashi was a lost cause; she wasn’t about to let anything happen to Miller as well.
Takashi spoke again. “You get those people as far away from here as you can, Captain. That’s an order,” Takashi said without so much as a hint of uncertainty.
“Sir, I—” Miller began.
“Leave it, son,” Takashi replied. “Save who you can. Forget about the rest and put your back to the sea. Takashi out.”
The radio returned to static. Miller peered through his scope a final time. The scene hadn’t changed, and why would it? Again, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s time to go, Miller.” Aiko was gentle. Her touch barely registered, but it was enough.
Takashi yanked the battery pack from his radio before securing both in the glove box. No one still listening needed to hear what was coming, morale and all. He would have preferred to give the remainder of his unit a proper send-off and a few words of encouragement, but time was a luxury he simply did not possess.
Glen’s son had fallen asleep—or at least that was what Takashi would have suggested had it come up. Passed out from shock was more like it. Bonnie caressed the boy’s tiny head as Glen looked on at his family. She caught his gaze, and if pure love had been enough to change their lot, every carrier in town would have returned to whatever hell bore them. Instead, the interior of the modest sedan went dark. The sheer number of infected covering Glen’s car blocked out what little light the distant fires and the earliest signs of dawn provided.
An abnormally large carrier made its way onto the hood of the car. Its slippery surface sent the ghoul crashing into the windshield. The beast’s chin shattered and flattened against the glass. Undaunted, the creature continued up and over the roof, slipping down the other side only to right itself and start the process over again. The damage was done. A spiderweb of tiny cracks spread out from the place of impact, growing into fingers stretching the length and width of the glass. The relentless pounding continued as tiny explosions of dust and shards of safety glass finally began to rain down on the dashboard.
Out of Bonnie’s sight, Takashi held his pistol at his side. Near empty as it was, he was confident there was one, possibly two, bullets left. He gently tapped the trigger. Glen nodded in approval, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. Takashi turned to Bonnie and the child with a warm, heavy smile.
“Miller?” Tobias attempted, searching for words.
“Just keep driving, Tobias.” Miller fumbled with his radio for a moment before tossing it at his feet and kicking the floorboard.
Nothing more needed to be spoken on the decision to abandon Pepperbush as Tobias sped off toward the highway. A few miles down the road, as they drove into the sunrise, the rain had finally broken as Tobias caught up with a ragtag caravan of survivors. Ahead, four more beat-up, gore-soaked vehicles trudged along toward the interstate. Behind the procession, fading in the distance, Pepperbush burned.
The Roaming
The Toll
Book II
Coming
October 2019
