White Flag of the Dead Book 9
The Zombie Wars
We All Fall Down
Joseph Talluto
Copyright 2015 by Joseph Talluto
Montana (Central Mountains)
People were starting to go crazy. It was a natural effect of their imprisonment. Some started to simply walk from one end of the canyon to the other. Several tried scaling the avalanche like the other two had done, but they were quickly discouraged by the bullets of their captors. Others just stayed in their cars and tents. Watching. Waiting.
Alice Dorn had her hands full trying to keep everyone in line. She kept most of the them busy for the greater amount of time building small shelters under the canyon walls or diverting some of the water from the river over to the camp so they would not have to go as far for a drink. The weather was clear for the first two weeks, and then things started to get ugly. Snow came down one day in what was described as a ‘white cloudburst,’ covering everything in a blanket of snow and sleet.
The trucks and vans and cars were all parked neatly under the cliff with people using them mostly for sleeping and food prep. A lot of people had begun building shelters using the rocks that were strewn about. Without much else to do, Alice had people practicing their hand-to-hand combat, and a pool was created trying to determine when John Talon was going to arrive and what he was going to do with their captors. The odds on favorite was he was going to be there within five weeks, and he was going to throw the community leader off the edge of the cliff, the same way Haggerty was.
Still, people were starting to wonder if the two people that had climbed the debris pile had managed to get away at all. They had heard nothing, and the silence from the clifftop was deafening. Alice figured if they had grabbed the two, they would have been either thrown over the side, or someone would have taunted them with their deaths by now.
Alice was cleaning her pistol for what had to be the thousandth time when there was a small knock on her van side.
“Come in!” she called.
The door opened, and a young woman stood outside.
“Pardon me, ma’am? Do you have a minute?” The speaker was a small, petite woman of around twenty-five, and she stood outside in the cold with her hands folded over her chest.
Alice waved her in, closing the sliding door behind her.
“Come in, come in! Good grief, the cold is nasty today.” The two settled into the two captain’s chairs and rotated them so they could sit facing each other.
When they were comfortable, Alice took a good look at her visitor. She was a young recruit who had joined up when John and the scouting crew had gone through southern Illinois. She was a long way from home.
‘What can I do for you?” Alice asked.
“Ma’am, I was wondering if I might suggest something.”
“I’m sorry, dear, what was your name?” Alice asked.
“Sorry, ma’am, forgot my manners. Casey Spooner, ma’am.”
Alice smiled. “You can forget that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. I’m not quite ready for that honorific just yet.”
“Yes, ma’… Ms. Dorn,” Casey said. Clearly there was some kind of code violation going on in young Casey’s head.
“Oh, for goodness sake. Call me Alice. Everyone else does. Even John, and he’s not here yet,” Alice said, trying to put the young woman at ease.
Casey looked positively shocked. “Oh, no, ma’… Alice. I couldn’t call Commander Talon by his first name. Oh, no.”
Dear Lord, your mother was strict, Alice thought. “Anyway, you had a suggestion?”
“Yes’m.” Casey got away with that one. “I was looking at the rock pile, and I was thinking that we didn’t necessarily have to climb over it, we could actually dig through it. It’s mostly loose rocks and gravel, and we all have shovels and ropes and such. We could make a tunnel through the pile and get ourselves out that way.”
Alice considered it. “What about their snipers? Last time anyone went over there bullets were all they got for their trouble.”
“We’ve got enough shooters for the cliff face,” Casey said, which was true. The fighters took turns lying on four cots that were placed out for the purpose of being able to watch the cliff. Each shooter had a specific section of the cliff to watch. Anyone sticking anything over the edge got it shot off. “Let’s take two of them and have them watch the walls. If someone shoots at us, we shoot back,” Casey said. “We get a tunnel through, enough to get some more people, and then we force the situation.”
Alice liked the idea. It was something to work on, something to keep people busy, and offered a chance to get back at the bastard who had killed their commander. She nodded slowly.
“I’ll put you in charge of it, Casey. You get the people you need and get it going. If you happen to put a bullet in one of them up there, I won’t cry about it.” Alice was a realist. There wasn’t going to be any diplomatic solution to this little crisis. They either got out and got away, froze to death, or John showed up and things get real interesting real fast.
Casey nodded. “Yes, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!” She headed out of the van and almost forgot to close the door behind her.
Alice thought for a long time about what Casey wanted to do, and in the end, figured the right thing will happen. As for waiting for John Talon, Alice did some mental math. If the climbers had gotten through, then they should have been able to reach the army by now, which means John should know of their predicament and will be sending reinforcements right away. Given the terrain and snow, Alice figured something should be happening within the next two to three weeks. If nothing happened, then she knew for certain that John had no idea what had happened to his northern army.
Alice said a little prayer hoping John was on his way right now.
Casey walked away from Alice’s van happier than she had been in weeks. For the last several days, she and her scout crew had been bored stupid, cleaning their guns for the millionth time and sharpening their already razor sharp knives and axes. This would be something to at least try, and if they managed to get through, they’d make those sons of bitches pay for keeping them in this canyon.
Casey walked around a dozen vehicles and about fifty lounging fighters. The small bits of conversation she heard from here and there centered mostly on what the army was doing and when the hell was anyone going to get here to get them out of this mess.
Casey walked by, nodding to those who raised a hand in greeting. As a scout, Casey had genuine standing in the army. She and her partner were the first to go into a location, figure out how bad the zombie situation was, and then direct the army into the best way to deal with it. She had been chased more times than she could count by bloodthirsty ghouls and had barely escaped with her life on more than a few occasions. She was required to think fast, keep a cool head, and not die. Casey worked very hard on that last one.
She reached her campsite, and with a look overhead, climbed inside her scout car. It was a Subaru Outback, and it had been modified for scouting purposes. The suspension had been adjusted so the normal ground clearance of nine inches had been increased to fifteen. The tires were heavy, all terrain ones, and the windows had been covered with metal blinds able to lock out zombies in case of being surrounded. Truth be known, zombies didn’t care about cars moving around them, they just went nuts when they realized there was food driving them.
The interior had been modified as well. Shallow bunk beds were on one side of the rear while supplies and a small camp stove were on the other. The idea was to be able to go anywhere and stay there if needed.<
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Casey’s partner was in her bunk reading a small book.
“Christ, close the door! I just got warm!” The small head of dark hair ducked back under a wool blanket, and the book fell to the floor.
“You’re a baby, Janelle, you know that?” Casey said, taking her coat off and sliding into her own bunk. She pulled a homemade quilt up over her own head, trying to warm up in the cold vehicle. Most of the fighters were cold, but if they didn’t have their cars they’d be colder still. The rule was to start the cars once a day, run them for fifteen minutes, get them warm, then shut them down. This was done in the evening, before the chill of the night. During the night, a lot of cars had flickering lights from candles which provided a small measure of heat.
“I know that. Hush up now,” Janelle said. She and Casey had known each other since they were little girls, and had followed their fathers on small hunting trips here and there. When the world ended, they just kept doing what they had learned to do so long ago.
Casey smiled under her quilt. “I got permission. We’re going to get the crew together tomorrow.”
Janelle poked Casey through the bottom of her bunk. “Baby, that’s awesome. Gonna give them shits the licking of their lives when we get through.”
Casey smiled to herself. “Yes, we are. Gotta be careful, though. They figure us out they’ll drop the canyon face down on us.”
Janelle poked her again. “What did Alice say?”
“Just to go for it and see what happens. I’m glad she agreed. Beats waiting for Talon to show up,” Casey said.
“Do you think he will?” Janelle asked.
“Don’t know. I’ve heard of him doing some serious killing on the zombies, but I ain’t never seen it my own self,” Casey said.
“I heard he and Charlie James took on a whole horde by themselves up near Coal City,” Janelle said.
“I heard that too. I figure they must have been exaggerating. Ain’t no one never took on no horde that wasn’t frozen,” Casey replied.
“Who are you going to get to start the tunnel?” Janelle asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll go talk to the teams, see who wants to stop being bored,” Casey said. She hadn’t thought it all the way through yet which was something she probably should have before she got permission, but she didn’t think it would be too hard to get people to do something since most of them were just sitting around waiting for something to happen.
“Let me know what you need from me,” Janelle said. “I’ve read the same book three times, and it hasn’t gotten any better.”
Casey smiled as she drifted off to sleep. She was going to nap and then talk to the teams after dark. Most of the activity in the canyon took place after dark. It was better than letting the ones up top, who were surely watching them, get any clue as to what was going on in the canyon. They’d learned not to stick their heads over the sides, but one of the watchers thought he saw a mirror up there. Ever since then, they’d been doing most of their activity at night.
After the sun had been down for nearly two hours, Casey got herself out of bed and made her way over to where a couple of the engineer teams were hanging out. These were the guys that figured out how to move things out of the way and how to deal with physical problems that came up from trying to move an army across the country.
After about an hour, Casey had two of the teams ready to start work while the third wasn’t sure it was such a great idea considering the instability of the entire structure. Casey was willing to take the risk in order to get topside. It was going to take about two to three weeks depending on the stability of the structure. One of the engineers said that they ought to use water to shore up the tunnel, because when it froze they would not need to stabilize it with any support beams.
They began their digging on the side of the slide that was closest to the canyon wall. This part of the canyon was a sheer rock face extending straight up for three quarters of its length, and then it jutted out, rising the rest of its length about fourteen feet from the rest of the wall. A casual observer, who risked a shot to the head by peering over, wouldn’t see anything amiss from a bird’s eye view.
The tunnel began taking shape quickly as more people dug and removed snow and rock. The diggers had the easier time of it, not having to try and keep the spray bottles warm enough to use on the walls of the tunnel. They used branches and stones when they could, but for the most part, it was just a tunnel of ice. When they reached a large boulder, they simply worked their way around it. They weren’t trying to make a space large enough for a vehicle, they just wanted a space large enough to get a person through with some equipment and supplies. Once the tunnel was made, they could get enough people out to deal with the community leader and his cronies.
After four hours of digging and spraying and rolling rocks out of the way, Casey measured off the distance they had dug and was very disappointed when it only looked like they had made twenty feet of progress.
“At this rate, we can just wait for the thaw,” Casey said petulantly.
One of the engineers chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s the first day, and we haven’t got the best methods worked out yet.”
“Well, let’s hope we get it figured out,” Casey said. “I don’t feel like being here another three weeks.”
“I heard that, sister,” the engineer said.
Dalhart, Texas
“Watch this.”
The words were spoken innocently enough with just a hint of eagerness and desire for approval. Most people would put down what they were doing, lift their head from their activity, and pay attention to the proceedings.
Tommy Carter heard those words and responded by making sure he had no loose items that might come away in an explosion, his weapon was secured and he had a tight grip on the rail he was leaning against. He debated whether or not he should shift his feet to a wider stance, then considered the source of the statement. Tommy opted to widen his feet.
“What am I watching?” he asked Duncan, the originator of the current dilemma.
“I’m aiming for the fat guy down there.” Duncan pointed at a large man wandering amid several others below the interstate bridge the two men currently occupied. The bridge was a simple country road that crossed the highway, but the highway fence kept the group gathered below from getting up around the embankment and causing some serious headaches.
Duncan brought his hand back, and Tommy could see he was holding one of his throwing spikes. It was a tube of steel about six inches long and roughly an inch in diameter, tapered to a sharp point at both ends. Duncan had tried other throwing objects but these were the things he was most consistent with. Over the course of the Zombie War, the ability to kill a zombie silently had become a serious asset, and Duncan was becoming deadly with the little things.
Holding the spike loosely in his hand, Duncan concentrated for a second, then brought his hand sharply forward. The missile streaked towards its target and punched into the skull of the fat zombie Duncan had identified earlier. The pointed end, backed up by the heavy steel, easily penetrated the head of the zombie. The Z stood for a moment, then toppled over onto its back, half of the spike sticking out of its head like a horn.
Duncan turned to Tommy and smiled. “About thirty yards, I’d say. Not bad.”
Tommy looked over the rail at the prone zombie. “How many more do you have?”
Duncan looked puzzled. “Seven. Why?”
“How many zombies are down there?”
“Twenty-four. Where’s this going?”
“How are you going to get the spike back?”
“Oh.” Duncan looked back over the rail and cursed quietly. “Shit.” The spikes were a bizarre find in a house that had all sorts of weird weapons. Most of it was useless, mail-order crap, but these had performed well. Duncan looked upset that he may have to leave his toy.
“Well, how’s the other group?” Tommy asked.
Duncan looked out across the landscape and
saw the car they had used to get to their current position. The zombies that had surrounded it for the last twelve hours had finally gotten bored and moved on.
“They’re gone. Think it’s safe?” Duncan asked, picking up his weapons.
“Safer than it was. Let’s get moving,” Tommy answered.
“What about my spike?”
“Fine, but you have to carry my bag,” Tommy said, pulling off his rifle.
“Deal.”
Tommy ordinarily would have just left the silly thing, but then he would have had to listen to Duncan complain about it for roughly a thousand miles, and considering they had at least two thousand to go, lightening the load was a good plan. Duncan had left his rifle in the car, which didn’t help here.
“Here we go.” Tommy leaned over and sighted in the first zombie. Firing nearly straight down was not as simple as it seemed, and it was easy to miss. But since the distance wasn’t great, he was able to get killing shots on twenty of the milling zombies. The other four had wandered under the bridge and were out of sight.
Tommy walked over to the other side of the bridge and looked over. He shook his head as the stubborn zombies didn’t immediately reveal themselves to get killed.
“Heading down!” Duncan called as he slid down the embankment.
“Not yet!” Tommy called, but it was too late. Duncan’s head disappeared from view. Tommy frowned and shook his head. Little shit left my bag on purpose, he thought. He picked up the backpack and went down the hillside, watching as Duncan shot the last four zombies with his pistol. Since Tommy had fired his rifle, quiet was no longer necessary, although looking down the highway, Tommy could see several dark shapes slowly making their way in this direction in response. Zombies were nothing if not predictable.
Tommy ran towards the car while Duncan retrieved his spike. He pulled a pair of channel-lock pliers from his bag and wrenched the steel from the dead zombie. He wiped it off with the man’s shirt then tucked it into a separate compartment in his backpack for sterilizing later. Hard lessons had taught the survivors of the Upheaval that the virus could stay dangerous for forty-eight hours if left on an exposed surface. After that it was harmless, but if someone touched the infected area, then touched either an open wound or their eyes, they had nearly a one-hundred-percent chance of getting infected.
White Flag of the Dead (Book 9): The Zombie Wars (We All Fall Down) Page 1
