The Zombie Terror War Series (Vol. 4): Running Towards The Abyss

by Spell, David

  “We both heard the cars,” Todd whispered. “We’re down in a dip here and the surrounding woods play tricks with sounds. They may’ve just been passing through or…maybe they stopped. Let me call the CP and let them know we heard something.”

  Stevens reached behind him on the trailer to where the field telephone had been duct-taped to the metal. He lifted the receiver and waited.

  “Officer Miles, this is Todd at the roadblock,” he spoke quietly. “We just heard some cars up on the main road and I wanted to report in.”

  Bradley heard the concern in his partner’s voice. If the gun nut is scared, why am I even here? he wondered. I’ve already forgotten how to fire this rifle that Nicholson gave me, even after his lesson.

  “I’m not sure,” Stevens answered the police officer on the other end of the phone in Admin. “It sounded like at least two, but definitely more than one vehicle. Yes, ma’am, I’ll let you know if we hear anything else.”

  The Northeast Georgia Technical College, Lavonia, Georgia, Monday, 0045 hours

  The four vehicles stopped on Adams Farm Road at the entrance to the technical college, next to the large sign identifying the school. The thirteen gang members were heavily armed, all carrying rifles or shotguns and pistols, along with plenty of extra ammo. They were surprisingly quiet and disciplined for a change, Joey thought.

  All the interior vehicle lights had been deactivated and car doors were gently pushed closed to keep their noise to a minimum. The keys were left in the ignitions in case they had to make a fast escape. Everyone realized how important the element of surprise was going to be tonight. They had gone over the plans before leaving the house but Neil had everyone huddle up one last time, speaking quietly to the group, reminding everyone of their responsibilities.

  Dodd opted for the direct approach as they were putting the plan together. Joey and Wesley had suggested entering the campus through the woods, using the same route they had on Friday during their reconnoitering mission. The big enforcer had told them that the easy way in was the best way in, and the easiest way was straight down the driveway.

  Neil’s logic made sense. The forest was noisy and it would be difficult to move through the underbrush quietly. They couldn’t use flashlights for fear of being seen. Entering the school grounds through the woods would also leave the roadblock in their rear, from where an attack could be launched against them. The sentries at the barricade had to be eliminated, preferably without them sounding an alarm.

  “Plus, if we can take out the guys at that roadblock quickly enough,” Neil said, “we might be able to get some information out of one of them about where the man and the girl are.”

  Neil, Joey, Wesley, and Mark Anderson walked slowly down the long driveway, the roadblock less then a hundred yards in front of them now. The overcast sky meant no moon or stars to illuminate them. Lester was grateful that they had listened to Dodd. He could not imagine trying to navigate through the forest in this almost pitch-black darkness.

  Joey carried his Saiga .12 gauge shotgun and had his 9mm Beretta on his hip. Wesley cradled his AR-15, with the .45 caliber Glock in a shoulder holster. Mark held a Colt AR-15 and wore a .357 Magnum Colt Python revolver on his waist.

  Dodd’s AK-47 was slung across his back, a massive .44 Magnum Desert Eagle in a hip holster, but for the moment, his weapon of choice was a compound bow with an arrow strung. Neil had explained that he’d been a bow hunter since he was a child. They didn’t have any suppressed weapons so the bow might keep their appearance a secret a little longer.

  The rest of the criminals waited around the corner from the last bend in the road. They would respond to a whistle from Joey or to gunfire. If things went according to plan, however, the four men would rejoin them with a prisoner whom they could interrogate.

  Joey estimated that they were now less than fifty yards from the barricade. His eyes had adjusted enough to make out two figures, barely visible, on top of the big trailer. The four intruders continued to slowly work their way down the narrow road, Lester, Maddox, and Anderson prepared to shoot if Dodd’s arrows did not do the trick.

  Suddenly, one of the people on the trailer stood, facing them, and raising his rifle. An audible ‘click’ broke the silence of the night as the sentry flicked the safety on their rifle to ‘Fire.’ A flashlight illuminated the four men, briefly blinding them, but Neil’s bow came up quickly and a ‘twang’ announced the release of the jagged arrow. A gasp came from the standing man and he collapsed backwards onto the trailer, his rifle and flashlight clattering loudly to the pavement almost fifteen feet below, darkness now reinstated.

  Bradley and Todd had sat, peering out into the night, unable to see anything. They both thought they could hear the sounds of people out there. Whispers, a metallic clink, someone clearing their throat. But the noises weren’t close and they both knew that everything was amplified at night. Including their fears. I’m sure my ears are just playing tricks on me, Bradley tried to reassure himself.

  After several minutes, though, Todd whispered, “I think I see people walking out there.”

  Something behind them started vibrating. “That’s the phone,” Todd said softly. “We’ll get it in a minute. Get your rifle ready.”

  Bradley reached to his right for his weapon as Stevens climbed to his feet and clicked the safety off of his rifle, raising it to his shoulder. The sentry activated a flashlight revealing four armed men almost to their position. One of them raised a bow and Bradley heard something hit Todd, who grunted loudly in pain and fell down beside him.

  Thomas froze up. Who were those people? What happened?

  “Todd! Todd, are you OK?”

  Thomas reached over to his companion. His fingers brushed across the arrow protruding from Todd’s chest, his hand suddenly wet and sticky.

  “Oh, my God!” Bradley exclaimed. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  In the dark, Thomas had forgotten about the vibrating phone that was right beside him. His only thought was, I need to go tell Mr. Nicholson and get some help. He’ll know what to do. Thomas had also forgotten about his rifle, leaving it on top of the trailer, scrambling down the backside onto the van and then the wrecked passenger car that they used to climb onto the big trailer.

  As Bradley’s feet touched the pavement, he was grabbed from behind, a big hand clamping down over his mouth. A menacing voice whispered in his ear, “Don’t resist and don’t make any noise and you’ll live. Nod your head if you understand.”

  Thomas vigorously nodded. The hand stayed over his mouth and he was led back to the front of the barricade and up the driveway, away from the school. Where are they taking me? he wondered, panic setting in as he stumbled along. He felt several sets of hands dragging him up the road.

  After walking for several minutes, Bradley heard a low whistle from beside him and then the sound of a lot of people whispering at once. He was suddenly thrown to the ground onto his back and a huge man was straddling him, knees pinning Thomas’ arms to the ground, the hand still covering his mouth. A flashlight with a red filter came on, illuminating the scene. The light wasn’t great but Bradley could see a large group of men holding guns, staring down at him with unconcealed hatred in their eyes.

  Something sharp jabbed underneath his chin and Thomas grunted, trying to slide forward, away from the pain. The brute on top of him leaned down, letting Bradley see his face in the red light.

  “Stop moving or I’ll cut your throat.”

  Thomas complied and lay still. The pain subsided as the knife was pulled back slightly.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions, little man. How well you answer them is going to determine whether or not you die tonight. Do you understand me?”

  Bradley nodded, his eyes bulging with fear.

  “I’m going to take my hand off of your mouth. If you scream, I’ll cut your tongue out. Just tell me what I need to know and everything will be fine. First off, what’s your name?”

  “B..B…Bradley,”
he gasped. “Bradley Thomas.”

  “Alright, Bradley, my friends and I are interested in two people on your campus and we want to know where they’re at. They killed some of our friends and stole a lot of our stuff. We just want them and we’ll leave everyone else alone. The man’s name is ‘Chuck,’ and he had a girl with him.”

  Thomas swallowed hard. He wasn’t about to protect McCain with a knife pressed against his throat. But Elizabeth? Why Elizabeth? She hadn’t killed anyone. It was all Chuck’s fault. He’d killed those people and now their friends were seeking revenge.

  “He…He’s here,” Bradley stammered. “He’s just visiting but is leaving tomorrow. Chuck’s in a guest room down the left hallway of the dorm building on the first floor. Go in the front door, take a left, and he’s in the last room on the left.”

  “That’s good, Bradley,” the man with the knife said. “Very good. See how easy it is to be helpful? What about the girl?”

  Thomas paused a moment before answering. “Chuck showed up by himself. There was no girl with him.”

  The point of the knife dug into the soft skin of his neck and Bradley cried out in pain, feeling his blood flow out of the cut.

  “Bradley, I hate it when people lie to me. I know that there was a girl with him and I want to know where she is. Now, I’m gonna give you another chance to answer that question, but if you lie to me again, I’m gonna start cutting off body parts. In fact, not that a little fella like you would miss them, but I think I’ll start by cutting off your balls.”

  Neil kept the knife against Bradley’s throat but said, quietly, to those around him, “Pull his pants down. I’ve got a feeling he’s trying to protect that girl and may need a little motivation.”

  Thomas felt hands tugging at his jeans. His tormentors snickered as they roughly jerked Bradley’s pants down. The former student body president felt the cold air against his skin, letting him know that things were about to get much worse.

  “No, no, please!” Bradley was sobbing now. “I’ll tell you what I know. Please don’t hurt me, I’m begging you. She’s staying in Chuck’s room. We don’t have that many rooms on campus and they’re having to share.”

  The man was still straddling his chest but Bradley could feel his pants around his ankles, the cold ground freezing his buttocks. Maybe, if they think Elizabeth is in Chuck’s room, she’ll be safe, he thought. These guys will go after McCain and maybe Elizabeth can stay hidden in her room.

  “That’s the truth. I swear,” said Bradley, the tears still running down his face. “Please just let me go.”

  “Ok, Bradley. You’ve been very helpful,” the man with the knife said, lifting his weight off of the young man’s arms. Dodd suddenly sliced the razor sharp blade across Bradley’s carotid artery and throat, blood spraying into the air. As Neil climbed off of Thomas he thrust the bloody knife under the dying man’s sternum and into Bradley’s heart. Dodd used the dead man’s clothes, wiping the sticky red liquid off of his blade, and re-sheathed it.

  “Well, if he was telling the truth,” Neil said, “this should be easy.”

  Admin Building, The Northeast Georgia Technical College, Lavonia, Georgia, Monday, 0050 hours

  Tina called Jake and woke him up, giving him the report from Todd about hearing vehicles. She had tried to recontact the roadblock to get an update without any response.

  “You want me to walk over there to check on them?” the police officer asked the former Marine.

  Nicholson was already moving. He had strapped on his prosthetic leg and was pulling on his cargo pants.

  His head cradled the receiver against his collarbone as he dressed. “No. You stay on the phones. I’ll be out the door in two minutes to walk over and see what’s going on. When the other teams call in, send one to secure the dorm and the other to the roadblock, just to be safe.”

  Months earlier, Tina had given Jake one of the campus police department’s soft ballistic vests. It was only rated to stop handgun rounds but it was better than nothing. He strapped it on, pulled on his pistol belt and web gear, picked up his rifle, and rushed out the door.

  Jake’s room was on the opposite end of the dorm from McCain’s and Benton’s. He considered waking Chuck up but knew that the federal police officer was planning on leaving early. There’s probably nothing to this anyway, he thought. The residence hall had entrances on both ends of the corridor as well as the main doorway in the middle that led into the small lobby. Nicholson turned right out of his room, pushed the exit door open, closed it quietly behind him, and rushed towards the entrance security point.

  Robert, Danny, and Maria were patrolling on the south side of the campus. Robert Clayton taught in the Computer Information Systems program but he also had a passion for firearms and the shooting sports. In his late thirties, he had never married, not finding the right woman who was looking for a computer geek who also loved to compete in practical shooting competitions every other weekend. If he was honest, Robert would also admit that he was painfully shy around women.

  Patrol leader Clayton had chosen to stay on campus after the zombie outbreak because he knew that he could help protect the students and other faculty members, plus he just liked the idea of being able to use his firearms skills. His Smith & Wesson AR-15 was slung across his chest and he carried a cocked and locked S&W 1911 .45 caliber pistol in a hip holster.

  Danny Romero had been enrolled in the Automotive Technology Course. He loved cars and was already an experienced mechanic. Danny had never been around firearms before the crisis but his natural mechanical aptitude made him a quick learner. Romero carried a .12 gauge Remington Model 870 pump shotgun loaded with buckshot.

  Maria Morris had been one of Robert’s students. She loved computers and intended to find a job in the IT field; at least she had until the power grid crashed and zombies dominated the landscape. Maria’s mother was on campus, too. Leslie was an HR Specialist, handling payroll and many of the other administrative tasks for the small college. When the zombies swept through, however, the mother and daughter had sought safety with the other survivors. Maria’s dad had abandoned them when she was young and her mother had worked hard to provide for her.

  Morris had only had minimal exposure to firearms, but when Mr. Nicholson said they needed sentries, she had volunteered. She really liked Mr. Clayton and he had taught her so much about weapons and tactics over the last couple of months. She wondered if he had given any of the other students all the private instruction that he had given her?

  Clayton had never acted improperly towards her, but Maria realized that she had developed a crush on him. Or maybe like one of her friends told her, she just had ‘daddy issues.’ Mr. Clayton was a nice man, though, and she appreciated all the time he’d spent with her, developing her proficiency with the AR-15 that she was carrying.

  The three sentries stopped at the field telephone, concealed in a weatherproof box attached to a light post next to a sandbagged fighting position. They each had a flashlight and used them intermittently to illuminate the area around them as they walked. Mr. Nicholson had worked with all the sentries on patrol techniques and had taught them to periodically turn their flashlights on and off as they moved.

  As Robert checked in with the command post, Danny and Maria shone their lights as far as the beam of light would go, towards the outer perimeter, looking for threats. A few days before, Danny would have been using this pause to hit on Maria to try and get her to spend some time with him. With the knowledge that intruders had been watching the campus, however, all of the campus security team was much more focused.

  Clayton got off of the phone and joined them. “We may have a problem. Officer Miles said the team at the roadblock heard some vehicles a little earlier out near the entrance to the college. Now, there’s no answer when she calls back. She needs us to go secure the dorm, just to be safe.”

  “What about the other patrol?” Maria asked. “Do Gina, Tyrone, and Jessica know what’s going on?”

 
“Officer Miles said she’ll send them to check on Todd and Bradley as soon as they check in. We’re the closest to the dorm so that’s where we’re going. If we see anything, though, we can use our whistles to alert them.”

  The residence hall was just a hundred yards from where they were standing and they moved quickly in that direction. When they were thirty yards away from the building, they heard many footsteps hurrying towards them down the sidewalk. Robert started to turn his flashlight on to let the other patrol see them. Who else could it be? But wasn’t Officer Miles going to send that team to the barricade?

  Instead, he stopped and whispered to Danny and Maria to get off the sidewalk and find cover. They both dove into a sandbagged fighting position to the left of the walkway. Robert legged it across the sidewalk to the dorm parking lot, where he could get a better angle on the intruders. Several vehicles were there and Clayton leaned against the engine block of a Dodge Ram pickup, aiming his AR-15 over the hood.

  Robert couldn’t see the approaching group in the dark but it sounded like many more than the three people in the other patrol. When he estimated that the footsteps were near the entrance to the dorm, Clayton activated the flashlight mounted on the front of his rifle. The sight of so many armed men rushing towards the residence hall made him gasp. The three sentries and the group of strangers were only fifty yards apart.

  “Stop! Drop your weapons!” Robert challenged them, flipping the safety switch on his rifle to ‘Fire,’ putting the cross hairs of his ACOG optics on the chest of one of the men who was also holding an AR-15 rifle.

  Three of the intruders quickly swung their weapons around and let loose with a volley of rounds in the direction of the flashlight beam. Robert fired twice, both rounds striking Wesley Maddox in the chest. Clayton ducked behind the engine block of the pickup as bullets punched into the other side of it.