by J. W. Vohs
Carter and Maddy had made it out to the Hummer after killing three zombies and avoiding several others. All was in order with the vehicle so they were already in place outside the bay doors by the time the trucks had pulled out far enough for Carter to drive into the station. Once inside he whipped the Hummer around so that it was facing the exit, then he and Maddy both watched the ladder intensely for signs of the shooters. Carter was mumbling under his breath, “C’mon, c’mon,” until they saw White suddenly appear at the bottom of the ladder, sliding down it like the experienced roofer he was before the outbreak.
The old Marine ran over and jumped into the backseat, just in time to avoid several of the zombies that were now wandering into the bay. Carter shouted, “Any sign of Little?”
White shook his head, “I didn’t see him anywhere on the roof. I’m worried that he didn’t make it off the scaffold.”
Carter kept his eyes on the ladder while Maddy continued to update him on the zombie situation in the bays as well as the number of monsters now filing in behind the trucks and beginning to block their exit path. Finally Carter said, “Ten more seconds, and we’re pullin’ outta here!”
Maddy had silently counted the passing seconds, finding herself at fourteen when Carter and White shouted at the same time, “There he is!”
They all turned around to watch Deputy Little; it was obvious he was injured as soon as he reached the ground floor and began trying to walk across the bay toward the waiting Hummer. The lawman was limping badly, and several zombies were already moving to cut him off from the vehicle. Carter knew that Jack had told him to take no unnecessary chances during the rescue operation, and he realized that Little’s lack of effective leadership had allowed this disaster to unfold. The he made eye contact with the determined deputy, seeing the fire in his eyes as he pulled free a baton with which to fight the zombies between himself and the Hummer. Suddenly Carter made his decision, and the only thing that mattered was that another human being needed his help. He quickly stepped out of the vehicle and pulled his pistol.
Maddy watched the scene unfold before her as if it was in slow motion. Carter fired his .22 seven times in the next few seconds, and six zombies hit the floor as the Ranger shifted his aim to another group moving toward Little from the other side of the Hummer. Carter now shot at a slower but steady rate as the zombies stepped into his field of fire. She noticed that he lifted the pistol and held fire as White jumped out of the back seat and rushed to the side of the wounded deputy. The tough old Marine lifted Little over his shoulder and headed back to the Hummer at a brisk walk. Maddy then turned her gaze back to Carter in time to see that two fast-moving zombies had approached to within a few feet of the Ranger’s back as he continued to use his pistol to keep the monsters off of White and Little.
Maddy didn’t hesitate as she grabbed her shotgun and jumped out of the passenger side door, raising and firing the weapon twice in less than a second. Carter flinched at the roar of the twelve-gauge in the enclosed bay, but by the time he turned around all he saw were two headless corpses falling to the floor. He lifted the pistol to shoot another zombie headed his way only to see its head disappear in a spray of blood and bone as Maddy fired again. Realizing that his back was safe, Carter turned to cover White again, but he had just tossed Little in the back seat and was now following the deputy into the vehicle. As the back door slammed shut, Carter yelled across the top of the SUV to Maddy, “Get in, we’re good to go!”
With everyone safely in the Hummer, Carter looked out the windshield and saw at least twenty zombies milling about the area between the bay door and the back of the second fire truck. His first thought was to try to thin them out by shooting as many as he could, but he quickly realized that hundreds of the creatures were now moving in the direction he needed to go and he would never be able to keep up with their advance. He pulled on his seatbelt and yelled at everyone, “Buckle up, ‘cause things are gonna get bumpy . . .”
Carter threw the vehicle into gear and slammed down the gas pedal, and the Hummer shot out of the bay as zombies were turning and reaching for them. They smashed into the monsters and rolled over their crushed corpses. Several times Carter felt the Hummer slide sideways as if it had hit a patch of ice, but each time he was able to keep the vehicle under control until the tires regained traction and they were once again moving toward the rear of the fire truck. Suddenly a large zombie flipped up over the grill and hit the windshield, splattering the glass with black blood and gore. Carter kept the gas pedal down as he frantically hit the windshield wipers and sprayed the cleaning fluid, trying to clear enough of the mess from the window to see what was ahead. Finally he was able to see out of a small area in the center of the windshield, immediately slamming on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the fire truck. He quickly realized that they had made it; they had caught up with the tiny convoy and the safety to be found by joining with the larger group. But Carter’s relief was cut short by the realization that they weren’t moving; the trucks had come to a complete halt and zombies were closing in from every side.
CHAPTER 21
The clean-up operation at the front of the convoy was quickly becoming a battle with the returning zombies rather than the mere corpse and wire removal that had been planned. The diversion on the scaffolds had bought the refugees the time and space needed to escape the fire station, but now that they were held up at the perimeter the evacuation was degenerating into an ugly melee. Jack took a moment to jump up on the hood of the first truck so he could see what was going on in every direction. The scene was daunting and alarming. What looked like thousands of zombies were descending on the convoy from all sides. Most of the monsters were trying to get to the refugees in the trucks, but the height of the platforms and the pikes were still keeping the people safe for the moment.
The most immediate danger was to the fighters trying to clear the wire and corpses from the road. Jack shouted at Marcus and Bruce, “Hey, bring your squads up here now!”
The two soldiers immediately began yelling at their men to follow them to the front of the trucks. Most of the corpses on the road had been cleared away, so Jack ordered the men to begin cutting and pulling up any wire that could hinder the convoy’s escape.
Looking behind the second truck, Jack could see that Carter’s Hummer had pulled up behind the two vehicles, and he hoped that the shooters had been safely evacuated. Zombies were milling all about the Hummer, but they weren’t acting as if they knew there were humans in there, so Jack decided Carter and his group were safe enough for the moment.
The line of men holding the charging zombies at bay where the front of the lead truck met the wire were holding their own, though their flanks were occasionally threatened by a lucky creature who managed to navigate a path through the wire without falling. Unfortunately, a new crowd of zombies had been attracted from the surrounding woods and fields by all of the noise and commotion at the front of the convoy. Jack set two men beyond the wire with instructions to kill any of the monsters threatening their position, while he ran back to the lead truck and explained, “When I give the signal we’re heading out. There will be some zombies on the road beyond the perimeter, but just hit the gas and run them over. Don’t hesitate!”
The driver nodded his understanding so Jack trotted back to the edge of the perimeter where he had left the two guards on the road. They were already surrounded by about fifteen zombies, including three of the fast walkers who turned their attention to Jack as he approached the scrum. As the monsters charged, Jack shot the first one down, though he needed three shots to kill the creature. When he pulled the trigger on the second zombie, Jack heard the now familiar but still dreaded “click” indicating an empty magazine. He quickly set the pistol back into the holster and pulled the mace from his belt.
The two zombies were now six feet away, with a larger male having taken a slight lead over his companion. Jack swung the mace overhead so that it would drop on the first zombie’s head while avoiding the arms
now reaching for him. To Jack’s utter astonishment he actually missed with the blow, striking the creature in the shoulder instead of the skull. The zombie didn’t escape without damage however, as the fearsome mace crushed its clavicle and shoulder socket, taking one arm out of the fight. The second zombie hit Jack’s side, still exposed from swinging the mace in an overhand stroke. The creature’s momentum sent Jack sprawling, but he simply rolled into a crouch from where he used a side-swing to crush the right knee of the larger zombie. It crashed face-first into the pavement.
The second zombie again threw herself onto Jack’s crouched body, but the experienced soldier used the monster’s own momentum to flip the creature over his shoulder. He then immediately turned around and crushed the zombie’s skull before it could roll to its feet. The first zombie was renewing its attack, but Jack easily avoided the one-armed grab and didn’t miss with his next swing, crushing the monster’s skull and sending it permanently to the ground.
Once again Jack turned his attention to trying to reach the two men under attack on the road, but as he clubbed zombies and pulled them from the pile it seemed as if two more were arriving for every one he dispatched. Jack finally had a chance to step back and replace the empty clip in the .22, finding a second full magazine and keeping it in his left hand so he would be able to immediately reload when this one was empty. The first thing he did was open fire on the approaching zombies, quickly dropping about a dozen of the charging monsters. Now with a few moments free to deal with the mob on top of his guards, he carefully shot those zombies one at a time. Nearing the bottom of the pile, he wondered why the men on the ground weren’t fighting back as the weight of their attackers lessened.
Just then the he heard the trucks rumbling from behind and turned to see that they were slowly advancing, Jack’s soldiers trotting ahead of the vehicles to see if he needed any help. He tossed the last of the zombies off the two fallen guards and discovered that they hadn’t survived the ordeal. Though it appeared that they had suffocated under the crushing weight of their attackers, they also had superficial bite marks on their wrists and ankles.
Jack swore under his breath, then pulled his pistol and knelt down beside the two bodies. He told the guards to turn away and then put two rounds into the head of each fallen man. Two more good people lost because the locals here didn’t follow his directions properly. Once again he realized that good discipline was usually the difference between victory and defeat.
Now that his soldiers were positioned on the platforms, the effectiveness of the defenses was much improved as pikes slammed home with death blows into the faces of several attacking zombies. As the vehicles rolled by Jack’s position, strong arms reached down and pulled Jack and the last of the guards into the cab of the first truck. The convoy picked up speed, and the swarm of monsters soon faded into the distance.
Jack had made sure that all of the drivers knew the way to The Castle, and forty minutes later they pulled through the gates and parked in the yard fronting the house. The Castle’s inhabitants knew that about a hundred refugees were on the way and had been working feverishly to prepare food, medical care, and sleeping quarters for the new arrivals. The truck engines were immediately turned off, and the gates behind them were secured after an RRT left on foot to backtrack the convoy’s route for a few miles to deal with any zombies attracted by the noise of the passing vehicles.
Jack left the unloading supervision to Bruce and Marcus while he grabbed Carter and headed to the command center for an update. John and Tina were waiting with coffee and information; they told Jack that the county, state, nation, and world was infected as far as anyone could tell. Power failures around the globe had put an end to communication systems, but before the internet was lost Tina had learned that the virus had spread too fast for any authorities to prepare and implement effective emergency procedures. This had led to worldwide chaos and anarchy among the uninfected, which of course provided a buffet for the zombies. The Castle’s ham radio had been in contact with over a dozen other broadcasters in the Midwest, but that source had yielded no useful information beyond the fact that there were still survivors out there.
The refugees at the Courthouse and Station 1 were safe for now, staying as quiet as possible and destroying a steady stream of zombies attracted to their locations either through the sounds of combat, the moans and roars that some of the monsters emitted, or some other sense that the humans had yet to figure out.
Jack nodded a few times as he took all of this in, then asked, “Any RRTs out besides the one following our back-trail?”
John shook his head, “Nope, most of them are sleeping right now. The fight at Hunter’s Ridge left everyone exhausted, and most at least slightly injured. I strongly suggest that you and Carter’s RRT eat, bathe, and sleep. We’ll get everyone settled in here, and I’ll wake you up if anything develops that we can’t deal with.”
Again Jack nodded, “Yeah,” he agreed wearily, “we aren’t going to be able to help anyone if we don’t get some rest. You guys hold the fort. Wake us as late as possible.” As he stood to leave, he decided that his first order of business was to find Andi and let her know he was alive. He didn’t have far to look; she was waiting just outside the command center with a tired smile.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Jack smiled back, “Now that you mention it . . .”
She took his hand, “C’mon, Deb’s mom made up some sandwiches and pie for you and the guys. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep you company while you eat. You’ll get a hug when you’re clean.”
Jack chuckled, “You recover from your gunfight at the office?”
“I’m fine, and the two kids are sleeping in my room with the girls. Except for what they saw in the office, they really didn’t see too much carnage out there. Apparently they just kept running till they came to the door.”
“Good, we’re going to have a lot of traumatized people as it is; I’m glad they didn’t see their parents taken down.”
Andi looked grim, “No time for counseling in this new world; we’ll just assume that everyone has PTSD.”
They reached the kitchen and found Carter and Deb sharing a quiet moment. Marcus and Bruce had been sent for, but Jack wouldn’t be surprised if they continued to help with the refugees for quite a while before they came in. Deb quickly got up and grabbed a plate of food for Jack, then poured him a tall glass of ice water.
“Glad to see you, Jack. Thanks for bringing my hubby back in one piece.”
Jack shared a knowing look with Carter before responding, “Neither of us were in any real danger over there.”
“Uh-huh,” Deb muttered as she shook her head. “That’s why Carter is covered with bruises, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Now, as a medical professional, I advise both of you to stop lying and just eat. Then you’re cleaning up and going to bed. Not with each other, though.”
Jack winked at Carter, “Guess ya got to snuggle with a Teddy Bear tonight, tough guy!”
Carter was too wiped out to share in the joke, so he just gave a perturbed grunt and continued devouring his ham sandwich. After a moment’s hesitation Jack did the same, and then they both followed Deb’s orders without complaint.
CHAPTER 22
Jack awoke in confusion, blackout curtains on the windows in his room preventing him from quickly assessing time and place. Mere seconds later the pain that racked the muscles of his body reminded him of a particularly brutal football game he had once suffered through in high school, and the memories of the previous day all came rushing into his consciousness. How many people did they lose yesterday in the battles at Hunter’s Ridge and Station 1? Perhaps a dozen, he finally decided, and all had ultimately been fighting under his orders. His dreams now came back to him, vivid nightmares where he had seemingly fought for hours in an attempt to remove piles of zombies from Carter, Andi, Carey, and Deb. In his dreams he crushed zombie skulls by the hundreds until the very air around him seemed to be saturated with bl
ack blood, white bone, gray brain matter, and long, blond, blood-soaked hair. Never did he reach the bottom of a pile before the screams of his loved ones ended, and he would move on to the next fight only to fail once again.
Finally, with muscles screaming in protest, Jack sat up in bed and tentatively placed his feet on the floor. He literally tried to shake the fog from his brain, then finally stood up and flung open the curtains to let in the late-morning sun. He found clean clothes and ventured down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before heading into the command center to find Andi manning the radios.
“You look like hell,” she teased as he took a seat.
Jack half-smiled and replied, “Yeah, but I’m coming back to life.”
Andi returned his smile with a dazzling one of her own that caused butterflies to flap around in Jack’s stomach in spite of his semi-conscious state. “I suppose you want an update?” she asked.
Jack nodded before asking, “How’s Carter?”
“Deb said he’s still asleep. She made him take a couple Vicodin before going to bed so he’s knocked out.”
“What time is it? How long did I sleep?”
“It’s almost noon; you slept for nine hours and I don’t want to hear you whine about the fact that I made John and Tina leave you alone.”
“Did something come up?” Jack asked with alarm.
“Nothing major,” she assured him. “Two RRTs have gone out on rescue missions, we now have five new people here, and the numbers of zombies attacking the safe-houses is increasing but still under control. Nothing you can’t deal with now that you’re awake. If you don’t mind my advice, I think you better get the evacuees out of the safe-houses as soon as possible.”
“Have they suffered any casualties?”
