“Where the hell did you have that stowed?” Jeremy gaped, and then flinched as Calvin fired a foam dart at his face. “Why do you even have that?”
“We found a few the last time we were out, and we brought them back for the kids,” Zion explained. “We thought keeping one in the truck might come in handy in certain situations.”
“Or if we got stranded somewhere at least we could entertain ourselves,” Calvin added.
Jeremy threw up his hands. “In what situation during the zombie apocalypse could a foam dart gun come in handy? What are you going to do with it now?”
“Am I, or am I not, a sniper?” Calvin asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Realization dawned on Jeremy’s face. “There’s no way that you can hit the door button while hanging upside down out of a roof vent,” he shot back.
“Wanna bet?” the shorter man held out his hand, wiggling his fingers for effect.
Jeremy immediately shook it, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’ve got a late nineties Playboy that says you can’t open the doors with that gun.”
“Oh, bud, looking forward to that.” Calvin grinned and cocked the plastic air gun. “Zion, let’s do this.”
His friend chuckled and shook his head, but inside he was glad for the enthusiasm. If they could pull this off, it would be more morale points for his team, spread around the communities, and more good will with Adam if they could bring him this part. Which in turn, meant more weapons. Every event was a precursor to better events, at least he hoped that was the case.
Calvin took a deep breath before leaning into the duct this time, holding it to avoid the distracting scent of rot that hit him as soon as he was inside. He stared at the button, a big glass target that he knew he could hit. The real question was, would the dart have enough force to actually register on it? He hoped so. A nudie magazine hung in the balance. And with the absence of the internet, such things were a commodity.
He aimed the gun as steadily as he could, holding as still as possible over the mass of writhing bodies.
Pop! The first dart missed, going a little too far to the left. He forgot that this was not an actual rifle, with proper aiming technology. He aimed to the right, and pop! Closer, but not quite. The gun only had ten darts in it, so he had to make them count. Pop! This one clipped the side of the button, and he finally took a breath, grimacing at the stench but trying to steady his breath as best he could.
Pop! Grrrrrrrrr… The doors began to move, and he hooted his excitement.
“Fuck yeah!” he cried, and Zion pulled him up as the doors screeched open.
Jeremy shook his head, flabbergasted. “I concede, man, holy shit. Well done.”
Calvin bowed dramatically, and Shawn headed to the front to look down at the zombies staggering outside.
“Okay, let’s make some noise, get them away from the doors, so we can grab that press,” Zion said, and Jeremy and Calvin skirted to the side of the building, banging their crowbars on the brick and hollering obscenities at the zombies.
The bulk of the corpses began to cluster around the side where the brick was, and Zion and Shawn peeked over the front again.
“Cover me,” Zion instructed. “But fire only if you absolutely have to.”
Shawn nodded, and drew his gun.
Zion trotted back over the truck, using it to climb down to the ground, crowbar in hand. He crept along the brick wall, and peered around the front. A few zombies staggered across the lot, but they were headed in the opposite direction of the bay doors. He ducked around and peeked into the shop.
There were three zombies still inside, either too stupid or too deaf to have followed their brethren. Zion jumped in and busted heads, taking out all three effortlessly as he made his way across the shop. He reached up and wrapped his hands around the ten ton jack and pulled it down from the shelf, taking a quick look to see if there was anything else. There weren’t any bigger ones, so he hoped that Adam would be able to get some use out of it.
He turned around and noticed a big radio sitting atop a stack of tires. He popped outside and looked up at Shawn.
“I’m gonna draw ‘em back in, and stay in the lobby. Tell the boys to cut it out,” he said.
Shawn nodded and disappeared, and Calvin and Jeremy’s racket ceased. Zion ran back in and turned on the radio, cranking up the grunge cassette to full volume before ducking into the lobby. He latched the door and ducked, watching through the window as the growling tones and crunchy guitar drew in the mini-horde once again.
When it looked like the shop was packed, he moved to the front door, and ever-so-gently pushed it open, heading outside. He dove for the bay door button, and smacked it before rolling back outside.
A few at the back of the horde screamed, turning towards the grinding doors, but they were too slow. The big metal doors came down on rotted arms, squashing a skull or two as they settled down against the cement.
“All good down there?” Shawn asked, three heads popping up over the side of the roof. Zion picked up the jack from the ground and held it up over his head with a smile.
“Come on down,” he said, and headed to stow the equipment in the back of the truck.
Calvin slid down the hood first, landing on his feet with the barest of wobbles. “What are we going to do about this place? Should we leave them in there like that?”
“They can’t hurt anyone from in there,” Jeremy replied.
Shawn shook his head. “I don’t like just leaving them like that. I feel like it’s asking for trouble, leaving such a big pack of zombies alive. Er. Walking around.”
They thought for a moment, and then Calvin pulled a lighter out of his pocket. “Should be safe to light ‘er up, no?” He glanced around at the parking lot, that seemed to spread out far enough around the building that there wouldn’t be a risk of burning half of the city down.
“Was there a filing cabinet back there somewhere?” Shawn asked, turning to Zion. “We could light the paper.”
Zion nodded, and led the way into the lobby. The office behind the front desk had three filing cabinets, and they each took one, dumping folders and papers on the floor. When they had a fair pile, Zion cocked his head at the window looking into the shop. The zombies still clustered around the radio, though they’d knocked it to the floor.
“Back up,” he said, and as his companions did so, he smashed out the window with his crowbar. Some of the zombies turned towards him, but he stepped out of reach, nodding to Calvin.
The wiry stoner lit a few pieces of paper on fire, and soon enough the blaze was roaring, encompassing half of the office. Zion had no doubt it would catch a few of the reaching arms, spreading to the rest of the corpses writhing around inside.
The quartet exited, and climbed back up into the cab of the truck.
“This is gonna smell like shit when the tires start to burn,” Calvin said as Zion fired up the engine.
“Probably better than fried zombie smell,” Jeremy replied.
Calvin snorted. “True that, my brother.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“There’s my little bro,” Monique greeted with a smile, and wrapped her brother in a tight hug. “It’s good to see you,” she whispered into his ear.
He kissed her temple. “Missed you too. Makin’ my own breakfast sucks.”
She smacked his arm and rolled her eyes, moving on to Calvin. “I’ll hug you then, since you appreciate me.”
Zion crossed his arms and watched as his companion embraced his sister. Calvin’s cheeks went pink as he awkwardly hugged her back, not used to displays of affection from the lady he was crushing on.
“Okay, let’s get you two up to speed.” Wendy strode up and snapped her fingers in that no-nonsense way of hers. She breezed past them, not even looking back to see if they were following.
The quartet trailed along with Monique in tow, the latter beaming as Wendy showcased all of their hard work over the last little while.
“And these are the greenhouses,” sh
e continued, motioning to the large wooden frames outfitted with thick plastic sheeting. They’d dug deep below, using the ground as insulation as well, to make sunken greenhouses that would be effective all year round. Community members hauled the solar panels from the trucks, others spreading and sorting seed packets across a myriad of tables.
“Looking good,” Zion replied. “But you’re right, it’s getting a bit crowded in here. Why don’t you show me the buildings you want cleared?”
Wendy motioned to the far wall where two guards stood on a platform to look out over the street. “Up here,” she said, and headed for the ladder.
Once they were up there, she pointed out the cluster of buildings. It was one two-story building and three houses.
“This would be easy to block off, fencing on three sides to box it in,” Calvin mused.
She nodded. “That’s why it makes the most sense to just take the whole block,” she replied. “There’s just the matter of clearing it out.”
Zion stared down at the eighty or so zombies milling about visibly, not to mention how many would be inside the structures. “We’re gonna have to be careful with this,” he said. “We don’t wanna attract other zombies to this location, and have you surrounded by a horde on all sides. Even though your walls are secure, you’ll still need to safely get in and out for supplies.”
“Would it be easiest to set up the fencing first and then just take them all out?” Calvin asked.
Zion shook his head. “No, I think you cover Shawn, Jeremy and me, and we’ll head out and take them out by hand. Once it’s clear everyone can get the fencing up all at once, together.”
“I think I’m going to need a bigger knife,” Jeremy said with a tight smile.
Monique crossed her arms. “Are you sure that’s the best option?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we just pick them all off from here? It would be safer.”
“We can’t risk that many gunshots,” Zion replied, shaking his head. “We don’t wanna draw too much attention here. We can easily take these corpses, right guys?”
Shawn and Jeremy nodded in unison.
Zion gave his sister’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “Don’t worry.”
“Somebody has to worry about your impulsive ass,” she joked, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he descended.
“We’ll be monitoring from up here,” Wendy promised, and turned back to the zombies.
Shawn waved Zion over to their weapons stash, and the three men outfitted themselves with blades and hard blunt objects.
Zion turned to them at the front gates, crowbar in one hand, machete in the other. “Stay focused. Don’t panic. If things get out of hand, Calvin has us covered. Just keep calm and drop bodies.”
His companions nodded firmly, and Zion raised his hand to the person manning the gate. They opened just enough for the trio to slip out, and sneak along the wall to the corner facing the rest of the block.
Most of the zombies were clustered against the wall where Monique and Wendy stood with Calvin, hoping for a meal to fall in their mouths. They weren’t banging on the walls, though a few seemed to futilely think they could climb them, rubbing their rotted hands up and down the wood.
“Fan out,” Zion whispered. “If we can silently get enough of them from behind that will be safer.”
Shawn and Jeremy nodded, and flanked him as he darted out into the joined backyard of the two closest houses. They spread out on either side of him, weapons at the ready, and waited for him to strike.
Zion lunged forward, bringing his crowbar down on one head and then immediately slashing another with the machete. His companions sprung to action on their side, creating a tight line of blades and a flurry of corpse-dropping.
With the sounds of grunting and bodies hitting the grass, the wall zombies started to turn around and face their attackers head on. Zion grinned maniacally at them, wiping the blood splattering his face, and spun into a kick, booting one rotted ghoul back into its brethren. A bunch of them fell down, giving Shawn and Jeremy an opening to take out a few more as they continued to thin the herd.
Zion took care of the last few on the ground and then they turned to the buildings, the few slow-moving zombies staggering towards them from around the walls. One tripped over a kid’s tricycle on the way, making enough of a clatter that more zombies headed out of the busted doors of the bungalows.
The trio headed forward, staying out in the open but wanting to get the zombies as spread out as possible for fighting them.
Shawn stabbed one close to him in the head, and then grabbed it by the shirt and threw it back into three ghouls, knocking them all over like bowling pins. Jeremy dove for one close to him, but two managed to stagger towards his back. Zion was too distracted to notice, but Calvin had his eye on him.
Jeremy cried out at the feel of a squishy hand brushing his shoulder from behind, but the quick crack of gunfire put an end to it, and he looked up at the sniper with thanks in his eyes. He stabbed the zombie he was wrestling with in the face, and then whipped around to see what was happening with the others.
“You okay?” Zion asked as he brained another corpse with his crowbar.
Jeremy nodded and rushed over to help with the last few stragglers outside. The grass was a veritable sea of rotted flesh, but at least none of it was moving anymore.
“We’re gonna need eyes on the street to make sure nothin’ heard that gunshot,” Zion said, and clapped Jeremy on the shoulder. “You head on beside that house and watch down the roads where Calvin can’t see.”
The ex-bartender nodded, and hurried off to his post.
Shawn squared his shoulders. “We going to clear these buildings?”
“Yep,” Zion confirmed. “Watch my back, and I’ll watch yours,” he said, and then headed for the first bungalow. With the doors all broken, there was a good chance the places would be clear, but they couldn’t be too careful.
The duo carefully walked through the first house, shoes crunching on broken glass and splintered wood. These places had definitely had struggles with zombies, with furniture overturned and knick knacks shattered everywhere. The first house was empty, as was the second, but just as they were letting their guard relax a little bit, something shrieked in the third.
“Where is that coming from?” Shawn asked, eyes widening at the horrendous sound. It sounded like a dying zombie cat, a horrendous high-pitched wail.
Zion furrowed his brow. “The kitchen?” he suggested, and they crossed the threshold to see a white door in the corner thumping away with the noise.
“No chance we can leave it in there, huh?” Shawn joked.
Zion moved forward and shook his head. “Not exactly nice dinner party music.” He motioned for his partner to open the door, and held up his hand to count down from three. As soon as he hit one, Shawn flung the door open and a blur flew out at him.
The younger man hit the tile as a zombie shrieked on top of him, and he pushed at it hard with his knees to try to keep it out of snapping distance. Shawn lunged with his knife, but missed and caught it in the back.
Zion threw his body to the side, pinning the flailing monster with his knees and finally slamming his crowbar down into its eye socket. As it fell limp, he sat back on his haunches and stared down at it.
“Must have been stuck in here since the beginning, with that kind of energy,” he muttered, and removed the crowbar. It had been a girl, once upon a time, of no more than maybe fourteen. He imagined her and her mom baking cookies together, and then her trying to take a chunk out of more than just cookie dough. Mom and dad wrestling their undead daughter into the pantry, not knowing what was going on.
Zion had a good grip on what he needed to do during these post-apocalyptic times, but there were moments like this where he couldn’t help but reflect on the complete and utter insanity that this all really was.
“Should we get on to that other building?” Shawn prompted gently, as if unsure of the conversation.
Zion nodded, and ret
rieved the knife that had gotten away from his companion, and led him outside without another word.
The two-story building turned out to be an open-concept gift market on the main floor, with shelves of little kitschy things lining the walls. The bay windows along the street side lit up the space well, giving them a good lay of the land.
Zion headed down a row of ceramic dolls, and smashed a zombie in the face, dropping it before more moans echoed from behind a few racks of brightly colored silk scarves. Shawn ducked behind a stand full of keychains, and then leapt out behind them as they reached the dolls.
Zion brained the first one, and his partner took out the one at the back with a well-placed stab to the back of the skull. The final middle one didn’t seem to know which way to go, and then decided to lunge for Shawn’s throat.
He stabbed, but missed and caught it in the shoulder, knocking them both back into the keychain stand, causing a loud clatter as plastic tags rained down on the wooden floor.
Zion lashed down, bringing his crowbar down into the back of the zombie’s head. He took a fistful of the back of its shirt and threw it aside, holding out his hand for his companion to take.
“Thanks,” Shawn replied, breathing a little heavier as he got to his feet. He looked around at the mess they’d made, and then chuckled as he saw a Shawn keychain amongst the mess. “I bet you never find your name on a keychain, huh?”
Zion laughed as they headed for the stairs to the second floor. “No,” he admitted as they crept up the stairs. There was a bit of shuffling noise, and they hit the landing and came into a creaky hallway. A half-mounted sign hanging off of the wall boasted All-Day Yoga, and they stopped outside of a door with a square window in the center of it.
Shawn jumped as a hand smacked the window, leaving a smear of blood across it. Zion squinted, and then stepped back, shaking his head.
“Zombie yoga,” he mused. “That’s new.”
Shawn scratched the back of his head, and then took another look inside. All of the corpses inside were still in their workout gear, all women in various states of rot.
“This room is gonna be fucking gross, but it would be really useful to Wendy once it’s cleaned up,” Zion said, and motioned to the other end of the hall, where there was a second door into the large studio. “You go down to that door and make a ruckus. I’ll sneak in this way and take them out from behind.”
Dead America The Second Week (Book 10): Dead America: Portland, Part 2 Page 3
