“It’s a muffler for your rifle, dummy. Take it out and set up.”
Brittany helped me. I pulled out my gun and set it next to the base of the tree. I didn’t have a stand and instead used loose bricks to approximate one. Brittany told me she had a surprise and after checking everyone’s bags, she returned with a delightful grin on her angelic face. “Guess.”
“Britt!”
“Sour puss.”
Brittany handed me Jones’ binoculars and held up tape. I thought she had to pee from the movements she displayed. She held a roll of tape and did a little celebration jig. I won’t call it dancing, not unless she meant it as a joke.
“Get down here, you nut.”
She taped the makeshift scope to my barrel and I chose a target to test it on. Jones put the pillow to my barrel and held it while I fired, off by two inches. I nodded my head, indicating I was ready and took aim at the aimless. Back and forth the zombies went as if former soldiers still fixated on a long-lost mission. They couldn’t have been soldiers, they were various sizes and one was short and round.
Through my scope, I took aim. Jones placed a second pillow over the muzzle and I was ready. I squeezed the trigger and hit a tall zombie in the head. My adjustments were perfect. I watched the bullet go through its skull and he fell in silence.
The remaining zombies stopped for a minute, then continued their pacing. Jones held up another pillow and I took aim at the next. A zombie fell. Feathers flew out from the pillow and we took cover. Though the bullet made no noise, the rising feathers would surely give us away, marking us for death or a juicy meal.
Fear surged in me and adrenaline boosted my heart rate. I couldn’t see in front of me and watched the feathers as they began their descent. I prayed they would be quick about it and they complied. With no noise or zombies heading our way, we breathed a sigh of relief.
I shot Jones a look and he shrugged. Moments later, he grinned ear to ear and held up three fingers. Round three.
My gun had fallen over. After placing it back in its stand, I readied for the next target. I had taken out the tallest two zombies, one of which was portly. I fixed my sight on the tallest of the two dwarf zombies. I waited for Jones, readjusted for his tension, and fired.
Before I could aim at the next, gunshots rang out.
“Down! Down! Down! Down!”
Jones didn’t have to scream it from the top of his lungs. We were down with our heads covered.
“Where is it coming from?”
“The camper,” said Brittany.
Jones looked at her, “go!”
I shuddered. Brittany moved quickly. Like a snake, she slithered around the side of the tree and was out of my sight. I didn’t have time to wish her well or look into her eyes, in case it was for the last time.
Fear took me, followed by anger. I looked at Jones beside me with his head in the dirt and hands over his head, protecting himself so he could survive, while my friend marched into harm’s way. I wanted so badly to say something or stab him with one of my many knives I hadn’t had a chance to use as of late. I looked at the back of his neck, it would be so easy to take him out and claim gunfire.
He must have sensed my staring, he turned his head and looked up at me. “Baker! Soldier! Get down!” he yanked me to the ground—I had rose, searching for Brittany. He threw me further behind the tree and lay on top of me, pressing me into the warm dirt. I felt his warm body above mine and listened to the sweet sound of his heart. It somehow filtered down to me and took residence in my ears, drowning the gunfire.
The gunfire stopped.
Jones got off me and pulled me up beside him. We heard a whistle, Brittany. We came from behind the trees and walked toward the camper. I thought of the last zombie and then I saw it. Directly in front of us it lay. Looking up, I saw Brittany standing over a man’s body and Charley was right beside her. I had forgotten about Charley. We walked down to take a closer look.
“This was the asshole firing at us.” Brittany kicked the dead man, hard.
“Why was he firing at us? You would think he would be grateful for us removing the zombies so he could get away from here.”
“He wasn’t going anywhere,” said Charley.
“Why?”
Charley’s face contorted as he pointed to the four dead zombies around us. “They’re his family. The guy was crazy. He was protecting them from us. I couldn’t slit his throat fast enough.”
I was shocked by the revelation. That was a first. The small zombies weren’t dwarfs after all, they were children. So many times I have tried to protect myself by whispering inside my head, “don’t do it,” like all those times before, I didn’t listen. I went to the nearest body, knelt beside it, and turned it over. I couldn’t tell from the face, but from the long stringy hair, it was a young girl.
“Oh god, not again.”
My first instinct was to look for a bullet hole in her head. It wasn’t necessary, her skull had a hole in it and next to me was a boot with green goo on it.
“You missed one. Don’t worry, I got her.” Brittany touched me on my shoulder. I hope she felt my gratitude.
Chapter 20
Charley was at the truck with Jones. They had the hood up and were busy. “They were his family?” I said absently.
Brittany shook her head. “Yes, it’s what he was screaming. I got the kid while he was firing in the trees and when he came out to get me, Charley was right behind him. The guy came out hollering about his family. Can you believe it?”
I shrugged. The guy had lost it, that’s for sure. I didn’t linger on it. I looked at Charley working on the truck with newfound appreciation. I had forgotten about him, but he came through for my friend, and for me. Any awkwardness I felt about last night vanished. He was more than a hero. I daresay he was my champion and lover.
“Baker,” shouted Jones, “get our packs and throw them in the back of the truck.”
“You got it going?” asked Brittany. Neither of us heard it running. I stayed an extra second to hear his response.
“The battery is good and it has gas. The problem is the connection. Charley is taking a cable from the camper. Once done, we will be ready to go. I need the two of you on alert, I’m sure the zombies heard all the noise. Why don’t you two go scout at the edge of the perimeter?”
“All right.”
We turned to leave. I had a thought and turned back. I looked at the camper’s wheels, they were all flat. I turned back to carry out my task.
“Hey, don’t forget the bags.”
“We got it,” said Brittany.
She winked at him and we were off. It took a minute for us to throw all our bags in the back of the truck, even now, we could hear distant howling and zombie screams. Brittany and I traveled toward the screams. We went up a rise and to the top of a hill and lay flat on the ground watching them.
Zombies were coming our way and if Charley didn’t get that truck running in the next few minutes, we were all dead. I shouldn’t say dead, that’s an exaggeration on my part. More than likely, we could be turned to increase the numbers of their growing hordes. We could wage a successful battle and get away with modest scratches and bites, only to turn days later. Or if they were really hungry, they could eat us, I’m sure we would make a tasty treat.
I looked at the masses coming toward us like ants scurrying up a hill in large numbers. The faster zombies ran and screamed while the slower ones walked at a hurried pace, howling. I wondered if their howl was to tell the faster ones to slow down and wait for them.
I tightened my grip on my rifle, taking a moment to weigh my options. Charging into them would be a waste of time and our lives. I didn’t need to ask Brittany’s permission, she would gladly take the risk. No plan leading to our death would be worth following, I needed something that might work, if only we had artillery.
“Let’s get back,” said Brittany, “there is nothing we can do here.”
She must have read my mind. “All right.”
We hurried back in time to hear the roar of the truck’s engine. The joy that sprung up in me is indescribable. We were going to Camp Brandt, I was going to Simon. Brittany broke out in a run ahead of me. With a quick sprint, I caught her and the race was on. Side by side we ran, laughing, seeing a brighter future for us both.
The horn blew.
We gave a burst of speed and we were there. Winded and out of breath, I struggled to make sense. “Th-the-they’re coming, in mass numbers.”
Jones grim look echoed Charley’s. “Get in the back, you’re our six.”
“Right,” said Brittany. She hopped into the bed of the small pickup.
“I’m right behind you.” I hopped in and as the truck sped away, we rifled through all the packs, searching for weapons and ammo. Brittany and I loaded the guns, put spare clips next to us, and arranged our order for firing the weapons.
Charley drove fast and rough. We tossed from side to side and braced best we could. He tore across the area, away from the zombies and toward the road. As Jones had predicted, zombies were near the road, using it for marauding purposes. Brittany’s look was stern. She was something: her chin stood high, nose crinkled, lips in a sneer, and blond hair tied in a ponytail with stray curls from her sides blowing in the breeze. Brittany yelled and mowed down dozens of zombies chasing us as we made our getaway.
“Hey!” Jones stuck his head out from the passengers’ side window, raising his voice. “We need that ammo. Take out the ones that get close to us, screw the rest.”
Brittany didn’t look pleased, but she followed orders. Laying off would not be easy, we were going to have to work at it. I took aim and shot zombies close enough to get into the truck. The farther we went; it became clear Brittany had the rear covered. I got the bright idea of turning around and leaning against the cab, the wind was brutal, almost blinding me. How dogs did it, I haven’t a clue. I squinted best I could, I determined to make it work, it was a good idea. I put my rifle on the hood, waited to adjust to my new position, and picked off any zombies ahead of us.
It was working. We were dropping zombies all over the place. I looked back and saw Brittany picking off the fastest of the zombies. They came from the sides and tried leaping into the truck. She took aim with a steady hand, waited until the time was perfect, and fired. I shook my head, Brittany enjoyed herself.
I turned back around to scan ahead. I hit a zombie, then Charley drove over it. The bump sent me flying backward into the bed of the truck. I braced, but hit the bed hard. I groaned afterward and tried to get to my feet. A flying zombie stopped me and knocked me back down.
Like a mad woman, I screamed and started thrashing about. Not like a typical ditzy girl, like a veteran soldier: I screamed, punched, and kicked all at the same time. I hit the zombie with purpose and force. My training took over. If they could see me now, they’d give me a commendation medal for heroism.
Brittany stopped firing. She stood over me with this insane look of confusion, no it was bewilderment, or maybe disgust, I don’t know, perhaps a combination of all three. I broke off my attack. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Defending myself. Hell! What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re an idiot.”
The zombie didn’t put up a fight; most of it was off me. It wasn’t trying to bite me or eat me. Brittany kicked the rest of the zombie off me. I looked at it. It had a bullet hole between its beady, little, red eyes. Something I should have noticed, perhaps I was being a ditsy little girl after all. How was I going to live this one down? Crazy girl fights dead zombie.
The truck screeched to a halt. Brittany flew backward, almost falling from the back. I got to my feet to see what the matter was. I saw hordes of zombies ahead of us. They weren’t moving—they were blocking the road. They numbered in the hundreds. The zombies were in the road and on both sides for what looked to be one or more city blocks on each side.
I quickly turned to our rear and saw no zombies. Brittany had done an excellent job, the road filled with rotting carcasses.
Inside the cab, Charley gripped the steering will, unsure of how to proceed. His hands were sweaty and when he wiped his brow, I saw a slight quiver in the hand. Jones gulped. I looked to his chest to see if his heart beat as fast as mine. Jones breathed deeply, his chest heaved.
Jones got out of the truck. How insane was he? How insane was I? I made sure no zombies were sneaking up on us from the rear, then hopped out, landing next to him.
“What’s going on?”
Jones put his hand to his chin. “It’s a trap,” his voice low and edgy.
“Can you be sure?”
“They herded us this way on purpose,” said Jones.
“I thought they had no intelligence.” Brittany stood next to me, looking at the massive number of killers in front of us.
Charley saddled up next. “It doesn’t take much intelligence to want dinner. Well, boss. What do we do now?”
Jones pondered for a moment. “They’re not moving toward us. They know we have nowhere else to go, that takes intelligence.”
“I don’t care how smart they are, what do we do?”
Panic set in. I did my best to resist and for a while, it worked.
“We go back,” said Jones.
“Back? Are you kidding me?”
Brittany aided me. “Why would we go back?”
Jones reddened. “We can’t go forward. Look at them! Go back is all we can do.”
I thought of Simon. My one last chance to see him, to be with him, was evaporating.
“No, I’m not going back. I’m fighting my way through or by god, I will die trying!”
“Baker!”
“Don’t Baker me! I’m not going back. We’re too close. I say we mow them down.”
“What?”
“You heard me, mow them down.”
Jones pointed to something on the side of the road, something I couldn’t see. “Stand on the back of the truck and look by that far-off tree.”
I did as he suggested and when I looked, I saw zombies around four scattered cars. The overturned cars had their doors ripped off. The windshields were all shattered and blood stains splattered the cars and nearby grass. Zombies were feasting on something or someone and my heart sank. It dawned on me what had happened. Others had tried running over the zombies and sheer numbers stopped them. The zombies overturned the cars, smashed the windshields, broke down the doors, whatever it took to get at the scrumptious meal inside.
I felt dejected.
Simon would have to go on without me. If we left now and had enough gas, we could possibly make it back to our safe house. Life there wasn’t so bad. I had Charley and Brittany had Jones. We could make it work. The local zombies didn’t bother us and if Thompson was right, and I know he was, we could wait out the virus and eventually all the zombies would die. Making the occasional raid on the store would keep us in supplies. It could work.
I could talk myself into a good life here, I could. I didn’t have to. I looked at the zombies and hope sprang in my soul. I saw a way to victory, I saw a way ahead. “Jones! Come here!”
Jones climbed into the back of the truck and stood next to me. “Yeah.”
“Look in the right center of the road. See how thin they are there? We can punch through, I know we can.”
“That’s what all those people thought too,” he pointed to the cars for emphases.
I would not be deterred and argued my point. “They didn’t have what we have. We are soldiers and we have a plan of attack. Brittany and I shoot a path through them and Charley drives over them. We drop them like flies and if we muzzle the sound, the others won’t move, just like at the camper. We make a road and ride over it.”
I sounded convincing, I would buy it. Anxiousness overtook me waiting for his response.
“Well?”
Jones ran his hand through his hair. “If they agree, so will I.”
My heart fluttered. “Brittany! Charley
! Get back here!”
They climbed in and looked out at our enemy to make sure they weren’t advancing, they weren’t, and soon we would be advancing on them. “What?” they asked together.
“I have a plan.” I pointed to the weakness I saw and made sure they saw it as well. “We back up and get a running start toward that hole. We shoot the zombies with silencers and they fall, the rest will keep their place waiting for us to come to them. When we make it to them, we will have cleared a path and made a road we can drive on. It will be too late for them to get at us. And if you look past them, you don’t see anything but clear road. It can work.”
The skeptical look on Brittany’s face gave me pause, especially when she looked to Jones for confirmation. I can’t say whether she trusted him because she slept with him, or the fact that he was our leader, neither satisfied me.
“It’s up to you guys,” said Jones. “It may work, it may also get us stuck and killed.”
Why did he have to add that last part? “It will work,” my confidence soared.
Charley read it in my face. “What the hell, I’ll do it.”
Brittany’s eyes met mine. “Drop trou.”
The idea floored me. “What?”
“What?” echoed Charley.
“Huh?” Jones looked at her worse than I did.
“I think she’s infected and may be leading us to our deaths. A zombie attacked her at the camper.”
“Is that true?” asked Jones. The rage on his face sent my heart into panic mode.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Charley. He too, displayed that face of mistrust.
“It’s nothing. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. I am going to Camp Brandt to be with my brother and I am not letting a pile of zombies or you stop me. You want to go back, be my guest. I’m going forward, alone if necessary.”
My impassioned speech had no effect on Brittany. She quickly raised her rifle, centering the barrel between my eyes. Great, another standoff.
“Britt!”
Zombie Zora Page 17
