“Do you worry about what we’re going to find in there?” Metzger asked.
“If we make it inside. Some of these guys are phenomenal shots, but if we’re outnumbered we won’t make it far.”
Metzger wondered if any of the prisoners were left in a position to assist them during the attack. They would be unarmed, putting them completely in harm’s way, but even distractions might be enough for the gatekeepers to let down their guard and for Metzger’s new group to push forward. Everything within his mind was a hypothetical daydream, thinking back to the schools where he worked, and how they were laid out, to get an idea of what they might find inside. Ideally the school interior would be completely lit, and every living person would be confined to one specific area. Schools were like caves with their multiple hiding places, and Metzger knew the more areas that required clearing meant more danger along the way.
“So who did they take from you?” he inquired.
“My cousin Jeff.”
“Your cousin? Where’s the rest of your family?”
Will shook his head negatively.
“None of them made it. And Jeff was always like a brother to me growing up. We were close in age and did everything together. Baseball, videogames, treehouse adventures all through childhood, and we were inseparable. Jeff learned to be a great mechanic from his father at a young age. Could’ve had his own shop, but he kept working for some old dude for a lot less money.”
Metzger imagined cash flow became the least of Jeff’s worries when the dead began walking around, biting everyone in sight. Perhaps the people running the unofficial prison at the school tricked survivors into joining them in the beginning, or lured them in using other creative means. He doubted they were subtle with Albert, Luke, and Samantha, trying to avoid envisioning the terror on their faces when armed men barged into their beautiful home, ripping them away from their little paradise in the center of a wasteland.
He hoped it never crossed their minds that he threw in with such heathens to enslave them.
“What about your family?” Will inquired.
“That’s actually why I’m here. But the answer to your question is a big question mark thus far.”
“Being alone in this world is a scary prospect. Guess that’s why I’m willing to risk so much to get Jeff back.”
“How did they get him?”
“They swept the neighborhood where we were crashing, looking for food and supplies I guess. Jeff knew they were going to find us, so he went out to try reasoning with them. Those pricks just beat him down and took what supplies we worked so hard to find. I hid the entire time he confronted them, and he bought me enough time to escape. They never even knew I was there.”
“I’m sorry,” Metzger offered as silence fell between them momentarily.
“I felt like such a coward,” Will said almost blankly. “Jeff told me to hide in case things went badly and I just did what he said.”
“If you came out they would’ve taken you, too. And we’d have one less person helping us now. They’re the cowards, Will, treating people like they’re slaves. When we get inside we’ll get our people back. You did the right thing.”
Metzger wished he felt as confident as he sounded. He wanted to think the people in charge of the makeshift prison were lazy and cowardly, but in truth they were probably bullies with guns. He never tolerated bullies during his school years, or when he taught school, so he wasn’t going to feel badly harming any of them.
Every successive part of their plan relied upon the first step going flawlessly, capturing the vehicle and driver without anyone inside the schoolyard being alerted. Metzger was about to perk up like a prairie dog for a look down the road to see if they were missing anything, but remained still a moment longer. Although each group possessed a portable radio, Molly suggested they not use them if possible once near the school to ensure their radio traffic wasn’t overheard. Metzger inched his way up toward the road for a look, seeing no other heads peering up from the ditch in either direction. Knowing he would hear a vehicle when it came, and knowing at least two other groups were further down the row from them, he thought of the plan and settled down into his position.
A throaty growl sounded behind him, and he recalled an open field beyond the ditch when they observed it from the road. He motioned to Will that he planned to deal with whatever zombie issue awaited them from behind, carefully switching sides in the large ditch. Before giving little more than a glance into the open field, he began pulling himself up before he noticed more than a single zombie awaited him. Witnessing a perilous situation, he saw a zombie closing on their location, but staggered anywhere between five feet and five-hundred yards he found dozens of undead wandering aimlessly.
Although the field appeared clear when they first arrived, the group had been waiting in the ditch for close to an hour now, giving the undead plenty of time to migrate.
Feeling certain karma hadn’t kicked him hard enough just yet, he heard the sound of a vehicle traveling quickly in their direction along the road behind him. Metzger had barely hoisted his body to sternum level over the top of the ditch, so he slowly lowered himself down before any undead took notice. His new allies were about to follow through with their plan to stop the truck by clever means, but a herd of undead stumbled their way. If none of them were spotted or heard, the group stood an excellent chance of pulling off their plan before many undead reached them, but if the plan went astray they might be overrun before they knew what happened, and the schoolyard people would be amply warned of an impending attack.
“What is it?” Will asked, reading the distressed look on his face.
“We have a problem in the field behind us.”
Will nodded, immediately understanding the situation, having heard the growls growing closer.
“There’s no time,” he said, concurring with Metzger’s assessment. “We take the truck quickly and deal with everything else after that.”
Holding his position in the ditch, Metzger heard the truck come to a stop, exactly like their plan called for, but he also heard the sounds of the undead stepping dangerously close to their position.
Closing his eyes, he picked up the shotgun he had set down when he originally entered the ditch and clutched it tightly, waiting for the plan to unfold. He prayed it went smoothly with no glitches.
Or deaths.
Seven
According to the plan, the second, and younger, female in the group, Jillian, needed to put on an acting clinic, crawling and fighting to stand up alongside the road when the truck drew near. Warned not to behave like a zombie, the group coached her into acting like she was weak and wounded, enough so that the truck driver would stop to see if she held potential for their schoolyard prison.
Planning practically every detail, they found her some dirty, tattered clothes, rubbed dirt on her face and arms, and worked with her on her movements before they retreated to several hiding spots. The signal they waited for was a single scream to indicate a driver only, or the signal they actually anticipated, two screams to indicate two or more men in the truck. Jillian understood that she might have to scream during a moment that seemed out of place to the people trying to assess her, knowing it was more important to warn her group about what they faced.
Trying to drown out the sounds of zombies drawing closer in the field behind him, Metzger looked to Will without a word. Both heard different sounds in front of them, like feet hitting the ground when two people exited the truck after it came to a stop with slightly squealing brakes. Immediately Metzger knew the answer to their most pressing question without Jillian needing to use her vocal cords. If there were only two men, and both exited the truck, overtaking them might be easier than originally imagined.
Suddenly the sound of crunching grass behind them caused both he and Will to turn, finding a zombie standing at the edge of the ditch, close to falling over and right on top of them. Like a cheetah, Will zipped across the ditch, clutched the zombie by the leather be
lt holding its pants up, and yanked it into the ditch with them. It couldn’t react quickly enough before Will stabbed it in the head, silencing it as two screams reached their ears from the other side. Entering the final phase of their plan that now seemed layered with hidden dangers, the two sprung out of the ditch simultaneously with the other six members of their group.
With eight guns trained on them, the two men appeared shocked when they whirled around. Jillian, not wanting to be an impromptu hostage, quickly left the vicinity, circling around the truck to join her people. Metzger noticed the two men were near her when he reached the top of the ditch, but it looked as though they hadn’t gotten a chance to lay hands on her. Both wore incredulous expressions as one of the group members grabbed the keys from the ignition and walked to the rear of the truck to unlock the camper shell. With minimal prompting, three people filed out of the makeshift cell and stood by, unsure of what to do or think.
“Give me one reason I should let you two live,” Molly said, aiming her gun at the one on the right.
“We can get you inside,” the man on the left volunteered immediately.
“We’re just transporting these three people to our camp,” the other man said.
“Against their wills,” Molly stated. “We know who you are and what you do, so let’s dispense with the pleasantries and excuses. We all have people inside your walls that we want back. You call yourselves the Wardens, but you’re nothing but bullies and thugs, no better than Hitler the way you treat people.”
Metzger looked to Will for an explanation of Molly’s last statement.
“We’ve heard them refer to themselves as Wardens when we spied on them,” Will whispered. “They bragged about it, like they were proud of coming up with the name.”
Both captured men exchanged concerned glances, as though something more than the obvious awaited everyone beyond the protective fencing. Neither seemed interested in offering any further words, as though entering the grounds meant a death sentence for them as well as any strangers.
“There are dozens of zombies behind us,” Metzger said, nodding toward the open field across the ditch. “We can just as easily leave you two for them and take our chances getting inside. Whichever you prefer.”
As though prompted upon request, the groans and moans of the undead crossed the ditch and reached the ears of everyone present. Even the minimal noise from the standoff around the truck was enough to attract them to the area. Metzger glanced at the three released prisoners, who stood nearby, openly confused and shaking with fear. A woman, a young man who appeared to be her son, and an older woman with graying hair might have been housed together when the two men abducted them, but now they were caught in the middle of a deadly situation.
“We need to get them to safety,” he said aside to Molly.
“They’re safer with us,” she replied just above a whisper, her expression indicating she didn’t want an argument about the topic.
“They didn’t ask for this,” Metzger pressed.
“What kind of chance do you think they have walking down this road without transportation or weapons?” Molly fired back. “If you’re afraid we’re going to use them as bait, or get them killed, feel free to keep them with you.”
Metzger wasn’t a soldier or mercenary capable of protecting multiple people at once, but he agreed with Molly that sending them hobbling down the paved open road wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t want to prolong the argument, knowing all too well danger was closing in from behind and the two men could easily call for help. The school was just barely out of sight beyond some buildings and a few trees, but sound would travel far enough for their friends to hear.
“They’re with me,” Metzger agreed. “Let’s get moving before we lose the element of surprise.”
He motioned for the three newcomers to join him, and they reluctantly did so, the confusion evident on their faces. Although he wanted to give them an explanation, or at least some reassurance, time didn’t permit for either.
“We don’t need both of you alive,” Molly said to the men from the schoolyard. “Just one of you can get us past any guards. “Who’s it going to be?”
Both of them looked terrified at the prospect of dying, but to their credit neither tried to indicate they were willing to see the other sacrificed.
“You,” she said to the one on the right. “You were driving, so we’re going to leave it that way. “Tie the other one up and throw him in the back,” she added, giving orders to a member of her own group.
A wave of relief crashed over Metzger, who didn’t particularly want to see cold-blooded murder in front of his three new charges. The group quickly readied themselves for entry into the schoolyard, realizing only a handful of them were going to fit in the back of the truck unless they wanted to be crammed like sardines. If everyone sat Indian style they could all fit, but if shooting started unexpectedly they would be trapped inside the cab with no backup. It was quickly decided that four of them would ride in back and one up front with the driver to make certain he didn’t give away their plan to any guards at the gate.
Metzger was left behind with the three innocent bystanders, Jillian, and Will, who openly admitted he was far better with a knife and blunt weapons than firearms. Jillian possessed a holstered firearm, but Metzger suspected she wasn’t expertly trained in how to use it. They watched the truck drive in the direction of the school, slowly following on the side of the road closer to the open field to keep hidden by the trees and shrubs behind them. Metzger and Will kept vigil for any undead that made it through the ditch and came anywhere near them.
“Keep walking,” he encouraged the three newcomers, who appeared hesitant to commit to any action.
He imagined they were still shell-shocked by the events of the past hour.
“Why are you doing this?” the older woman asked, seeming far less afraid, probably because she had seen enough life that the apocalypse and abduction didn’t seem quite as foreign.
“You’re safer with us,” Metzger replied, keeping his voice down.
“But you’re taking us to their camp, just like they were.”
“I don’t plan on taking you in there,” he replied. “There are too many undead out here to just let you go wandering by yourself.”
All six kept a regular pace at this point, and the school slowly came into view over the next horizon. They stayed close to the trees, still too far away for anyone to spot them unless they had elevation and a rifle scope or binoculars.
“I hate to say it, but we should probably walk in the ditch,” Will suggested.
The group climbed down into the ditch, which became less like a trench the closer they drew to the school. Still, it provided better cover than walking along the pavement, and just a few minutes later they received a message on their radio from Molly.
“We’re in,” she said. “We’ll be at the gate waiting for you.”
All six picked up the pace, and soon found themselves alongside the school looking for an open gate. Metzger had seen schools with fencing around portions of the parking lot and sporting areas, but never encircled around the main building like some kind of compound. He noticed some of the fencing was new and not professionally installed, though it appeared solid enough to repel small numbers of stragglers or the undead. It reached about fifteen feet in height, making it difficult to scale without drawing attention, and portions of it were wrapped in barbed wire along the top.
Metzger saw no one along the roofline spying for intruders, and strangely, he found no one working outside as Molly and her group had reported seeing. The weather was overcast, but not particularly cold, and certainly not rainy. He wondered why these purported slave drivers didn’t have people outside securing the facility unless they had turned their attention to the interior. If that were the case, rescuing loved ones without putting them in harm’s way just became exponentially difficult.
A few zombies stumbled into the ditch from the field, allowing Will to make short
work of them with his knife. The group barely lost a step in the process as Metzger considered the young man a very useful ally to whatever folks acquired his services. Personally, Metzger didn’t plan to join any groups or recruit anyone to head east with him. He feared being slowed down on the journey to see his brother, though he didn’t necessarily see himself turning down company if anyone wanted to tag along.
First things first, he thought, knowing he needed to free three allies from the clutches of kidnappers before anything particularly bad happened to them. What felt like forever actually took them mere minutes to reach the open gate, finding the other members of their group standing cautiously inside. Metzger passed through the sliding gate with his three wards near him, finding a body immediately to his left on the ground. He tried not to stare, but the man who was likely guarding the fence and letting people inside was face-down with a bullet in the back of his skull.
Metzger said nothing, but shot Molly a glance to ask if murder was really necessary. She replied with only a stern look that indicated nothing was more important to her than the people they risked so much to rescue.
“I’m not going to ask any of you to come any further,” he informed the three unarmed victims. “You have no weapons, and it’s not safe out there. It’s probably safer for you to stay right here until we get back, but if you leave please don’t let anyone see you. We need the element of surprise if we’re going to rescue our friends.”
“What is this place?” the young man asked with a perplexed stare.
“It’s a makeshift prison where they kidnap people and put them to work.”
The Undead Chronicles (Book 1): Home and Back Again Page 9
