Eastern Front: Zombie Crusade IV

by J. W. Vohs

“Now,” she ordered, “picture that pyramid beneath a guillotine, cut in half, from the peak all the way to the base.”

  Again the guys reported that they had the image.

  “Good,” Gracie encouraged, “now push that half-pyramid up against our wall. Maybe spray water on it so ice forms. Tell me how the hunters get to the top without falling into the river.”

  She turned to face the dumfounded soldiers. “You might have just thought I was being a jerk, but I think you’ll agree when I say that gravity can be a real bitch.”

  Jack mumbled, “Oh my God . . .” and sat down on the cold, hard road as he stared at the bridge.

  Luke sat next to him, subdued. “Can you think of any reason why her idea won’t work?”

  “Well, we may need to disguise what we’re doing so the helicopters don’t change the strategy—we’ll want them to attack the wall if we pull this off.”

  “We could build phony walls and maybe a roof over the new design, make it look like we just wanted a deeper fighting platform at the top of the wall.”

  “That would work,” Jack admitted. “I think the whole idea will work. Gracie may have just won the battle for us.”

  “Yeah,” Luke agreed with exaggerated understatement, “and I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  A war council was being held every night in the meeting house, but Jack decided that Gracie’s bridge idea couldn’t wait. He sent word out by radio and runner to gather the various commanders together. Well before noon everyone who could make it to the meeting was there, with so many leaders packed into the building that it was standing-room-only. Jack had asked Gracie to draw a few basic diagrams on the dry erase board at the front of the main room, and she stood just to the side of the drawings in case she needed to elaborate on what was already prepared. Luke stood next to his girl, looking out over the sea of faces for the people he knew, of which there were very few in attendance.

  He realized with a jolt of surprise that Jack wasn’t exaggerating when he’d argued that people from all over America were gathering here in Vicksburg to try to stop Barnes. Luke saw Captain Hardin, Generals Carlson and Anderson from Utah, along with most of their battalion commanders, but they were outnumbered by a motley collection of fighters he’d never seen before. David was suddenly at his side. He noticed where Luke’s attention was directed and began to point out some of the strange leaders in attendance.

  “That old guy in the ugly sweater is the mayor of Cairo; he organized and brought down six hundred fighters with their war-dogs. Fought in Vietnam, and from the moment we met him he’s been with us a hundred percent. Rickers is in back of the room, Jack told him to leave the Utah soldiers in Fort Wayne to provide security and bring every soldier we have down here. John and Tina, Lori and Blake, Marcus, and anybody who wasn’t already down here will be here on tonight’s train from Indiana. We’ll put a hundred and fifty troops in the field, counting Chad’s men.”

  David took a deep breath and continued, “Look back in the left corner; any of those guys look familiar to you?”

  Luke looked the strangers over carefully for thirty seconds before shaking his head. “Should I know them?”

  “Just thought you might know who they are. They came in on the river three days ago with a floating city. The three you’re looking at were all part of a popular television program that focused on their entire family. They were all in Louisiana when the outbreak began, and figured out real quick that the water was a good place to be. A lot of people around them looked to them for leadership, and they took on the responsibility. They’ve kept two thousand people alive, fed, and killing infected all over this area. One of the old guys fought in Vietnam, but the tall one’s in charge. I swear to God he seems like an Old Testament prophet when you talk to him. Polite as hell, smart as anyone I’ve met, but his eyes—well, you’ll see them soon enough. They have over four hundred of the toughest bastards I’ve ever seen ready for war.

  “Other local groups have been coming in too; at least a thousand fighters with their families. All told, we’ve got twelve thousand Utah soldiers, and close to three thousand others from all over the Midwest and South. I mentioned to Carlson that Utah was bearing the brunt of the load here, but he pointed out that we’re all in. He’s got a million westerners behind him, whereas most everyone we know in the east is here. In other words, a much greater percentage of our survivors are in danger here than his people.”

  Luke nodded, “Makes sense, I guess, but still seems unfair to Utah. You should see them in a fight, David, their discipline is amazing, and they fight like cornered lions. As for the Louisiana folks, I hardly ever watched any television or kept up on pop culture.”

  David smiled, “Well, you’ll like them; they seem like your kind of people. And everybody in camp knows who you are; I realized you’d made a few friends over the past few days as I made the rounds while you were sleeping for eighteen hours.”

  Luke looked at his closest friend with eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you talking about?”

  David shrugged with feigned innocence, “It’s probably nothing. Just a few stories going around town.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  “Oh, about some young warrior from Fort Wayne who was already a legend before he fought the entire horde to a standstill at Pickwick.”

  Luke shook his head in genuine disgust. “Dammit, David, heroes fought beside me at Pickwick! Do you hear me? I would be hunter-crap by now if it wasn’t for the 1st Utah.”

  David turned serious, “I know that. Most people who care to find out the truth will know that too. But for right now, this army needs legends and myths. They need to believe that mighty warriors walk amongst them, so just go with it until the battle is fought. Trust me, the stories being told about you only strengthen the resolve and confidence of our troops.”

  “When this is over, I’m going to find a little island in the middle of one of the Great Lakes. I’m going to marry Gracie and build us a house there. You and Christy, heck, everyone from our original group can come and live there, or not. But I’m not gonna live my life surrounded by groupies, David, I’m not.”

  “We’ll come with you. Blake and Lori will too, and the Martinez family. Trudy might tag along. Maybe even Jack and Andi. But we have to win the war first, so until we do you’ll just have to find a polite way to live with the groupies. You understand what I’m saying?”

  Luke had a sour expression on his face, but he agreed. “Fine. Just don’t be surprised if there are a few stories circulating about you.”

  David raised an eyebrow to indicate his curiosity, but just then Jack called the meeting to order and all eyes turned to the allied leader.

  Presenting the plan for improving the bridge defenses didn’t take long, and every commander in the room promised to send their best carpenters and other construction workers to help with the project. Jack gave all the credit to Gracie, whose blush made her all the prettier as everyone clapped in appreciation of her idea. As soon as the room quieted, Jack cleared his throat and announced, “As you all know, the 1st Utah had a hell of a rough fight with Barnes at the Pickwick Dam a few days ago. When they arrived back in town yesterday morning, they all needed food and rest, and too many needed medical treatment. We now know that they lost almost forty percent of their force in the battle, and we estimate that they destroyed twenty to thirty thousand infected before they were forced to retreat. In case you haven’t met him yet, the commander of our forces during the battle was Carter Wilson.”

  Carter stepped forward and nodded in several directions as the crowded room erupted in cheers, then he quickly moved back to where he’d been standing.

  After a moment Jack continued speaking. “The commander of the battalion is in the hospital with several broken ribs, but General Carlson has assured me that the colonel will recover.”

  Following another round of cheering, Jack had one more person to introduce. “Finally, even though he doesn’t hold a comman
d, one of the most important soldiers in America is also here with us. He’s Gracie’s fiancé, and a young man I love like family—this is Luke Seifert.”

  Jack gestured toward Luke, and was surprised when the teen stepped forward and looked over the gathered commanders. After a spattering of applause the room grew quiet, everyone trying to get a look at the subject of so many wild stories circulating the camp. Luke allowed the silence to grow for a moment before beginning to speak. “Two days ago I should have died. For reasons all my own, I moved ahead of our ranks and single-handedly engaged the enemy. I’d been running from Barnes and his hunters for too long, and something snapped inside of me. I killed about twenty flesh-eaters, mostly with my bow, before they gang-tackled me and started clawing through my armor. It was over. Then the weight on me fell away, and I looked up into the faces of the 1st Utah.”

  Luke stopped speaking for a moment and let his words sink in. “I’ve learned to fight well over the past five months, but if it wasn’t for people like my dad, the Smith brothers, and the soldiers of the 1st Utah, I would’ve been dead long ago. I just want you all to know that I am honored to fight at your side.”

  As Luke went back to his seat, the scattered applause grew to a rhythmic roar. Jack smiled to himself and wondered if mankind’s proclivity to monarchy would reassert itself in a post-infection world. If so, he figured he’d just witnessed a historic moment. Something about Luke Seifert radiated “the boy who would be king,” even though his name didn’t sound particularly royal. His spiritual nature, telegenic good looks, and overall reluctance to assume power combined to make him an ideal candidate for the job, should it present itself. For some reason, Jack found this fantasy to be tremendously satisfying.

  CHAPTER 22

  The next week passed quickly for the Vicksburg garrison, which was now being referred to as the Allied army, or simply the Allies. Arming, armoring, and training the new troops occupied David and the members of his old team who’d come to Vicksburg, including Luke and Gracie. The survivors of the 1st Utah Battalion drilled all units of the 1st and 2nd Divisions until the disciplined westerners could operate the phalanx in their sleep. The sloped additions to the main walls were now finished, hidden by a massive, wooden rampart that made it appear as if the walls had simply been thickened so the fighting platforms were deeper. The defenders hoped to keep the new design a secret, planning to wait until the hunter army was fully committed to the attack before small amounts of explosives would collapse the new ramparts and expose the slopes. Most of the various commanders proclaimed their faith in the belief that the wall-modifications wouldn’t be necessary, as the untold miles of wire and other traps continued to be increased. Those leaders who had never seen the horde just couldn’t believe that any force could overcome the defenses the Allies had prepared.

  Marcus and Bobby led a small team of soldiers to the northeast, where they were to locate Barnes and harass his forces. As expected, the General had moved his army from Pickwick Dam into northern Mississippi, where they then travelled west until they reached I-55. Reports were called in every day from the guerillas, giving details on Barnes’ location as well as what actions had been taken against him. A furious, nighttime assault on the cowboys and the herd they led was conducted by the former Rangers and the fighters they commanded. Unlike Luke’s team that had attacked the cattle in Kentucky, Bobby and Marcus had no trouble killing the humans working for Barnes. Using NVG’s, they’d shot up the cowboy encampment and stampeded the herd, delaying the horde by at least two days. After the cattle were rounded up and new people flown in to shepherd them, the massive herd was kept between two huge groups of hunters in front of and behind them. Maintaining a uniform pace to preserve the necessary distance between the groups was another headache for Barnes and contributed to further delays.

  Three days after the attack on the cattle, Barnes’ army was forced to abandon I-55 lest his force be cut off from Vicksburg by the Big Black River. Now the hunters’ advance was slowed even more as the monsters were forced into what was at times just a ten-mile-wide corridor between the Yazoo and Big Black, an area filled with forests and swamps but only one decent road. With Zach and Maddy at his side, Chad Greenburg led his seasoned troops to work with local river pilots to begin ferrying the soldiers up the Yazoo River, along with plenty of explosives and sniper rifles. This force could put ashore anywhere they wished, hit the enemy hard, then head back to the river-boats and slip away unmolested. For three days, Greenburg’s men, along with Marcus and Bobby, coordinated their hit and run attacks. During that period they killed an estimated two thousand infected while losing just one fire team of three soldiers that got cut off during their retreat to the Yazoo.

  Everything the human army tried during Barnes’ march on Vicksburg worked well, but still the horde’s approach was inexorable. Finally, at sunset on the eighth day following the Battle of Pickwick Dam, the inevitable report arrived from the soldiers harassing the hunter-army: Barnes’ main force was now on Highway 61, just ten miles from the outskirts of Vicksburg. The plan was for a fighting retreat by the 1st Utah Division along much of that four-lane road; Jack and Carlson hoped to bleed Barnes along the best route to I-20. An army approaching from the north needed to march down Highway 61 before turning west on I-20, after which the bridges were less than five miles distant. A big problem with the Allied plan was Business 61, a two-lane highway that could also be used by the horde to reach Vicksburg. The engineers had blown great craters in this road near its intersection with the main highway, then littered the remaining surface with wire, bombs, and every other trap they could think of. Finally, three miles down the road they had been able to dig a canal across its path, flooding the entire area with water from the nearby Yazoo River which ran parallel to the old highway at that point. The funnel zone created by the thick forests on either side of Highway 61 was the Allied army’s last real chance to inflict meaningful damage on the enemy before the flesh-eaters were in sight of the bridges, and Jack’s soldiers had been working frantically along the route to prepare for Barnes’ arrival.

  The Allied army was fifteen thousand strong, with another three thousand people willing and able to help construct the defenses. Jack doubted that more wire had been placed in such a small area since the trench warfare of World War I. Concertina had been stretched twenty-feet high in the forests on either side of Highway 61, where Carlson and his soldiers would use a basic phalanx to block the road and send the flesh-eaters into flanking movements through the trees where they would hopefully become entangled in the wire. When the troops blocking the highway could no longer hold a position, they would fall back and blow their former line with propane and dynamite. Jack hoped that the western infantry could delay Barnes for at least a day, as well as kill several tens of thousands of monsters.

  Once the hunter army reached more open ground, just north of the I-20 interchange, the Allies would be forced to fall back to the defensive line they’d constructed along the top of an old railroad cut. Marcus and Bobby’s team, along with Greenburg’s troops, were to rendezvous there and assist with blowing the interstate bridges over the rails. This would force the creatures to fight their way through a ditch filled with propane-bombs, almost unimaginable amounts of wire, and finally a line of snipers armed with .22 rifles holding the high ground. The soldiers were there to cull the horde, not make a stand, so as soon as their line was compromised they were under orders to retreat back to the bridges over the Mississippi.

  Just in front of the spans the hunters would find a huge Allied force standing its ground. Jack had ordered the engineers to construct a series of crescent-shaped berms, each about ten-feet high with a moat in front, and its flanks anchored in the river. Four of the fighting positions were ready, each about thirty meters from the other. The ground between the railroad cut and the first of the berms was filled with traps and bombs, as well as miles of still more concertina wire. The soldiers had gone medieval at this location, filling the earth with tens of t
housands of sharpened stakes pointing directly toward the enemy approach. Jack knew that if human casualties were to be high in the coming battle, this was the place his troops would be in the greatest danger. With each retreat the soldiers forming the phalanx would be vulnerable, having to navigate the no-man’s land between the berms with hunters attacking them from behind. Small bridges had been placed across the moats, and bombs of all types had been dug into the ground just below the top of the positions to try to gain the fighters some space when they fell back. But Jack knew that every battle plan only lasted until the first shot was fired, and things could and would go wrong during complicated maneuvers attempted while in contact with the enemy.

  When the last defensive position could no longer be held, the soldiers would be forced to conduct a fighting withdrawal, in many places down a steep riverbank, to where barges were waiting to take them to safety. Dozens of snipers with calibers heavier than .22 would be in shooting positions on top of the watercraft where they would do their best to cover what promised to be a confusing retreat under heavy enemy pressure. By that point, the bridges should be shrouded in smoke. One of the Louisiana TV stars, the one who’d fought in Vietnam and usually seemed to be half out of his mind, was proving to be anything but crazy now that he was at war again. He’d pointed out that they’d always carried smoke grenades with them in ‘Nam, which came in handy for all sorts of situations. Here at the bridges, if Jack wanted the helicopters to continue to send the horde against the modified walls, he would have to find a way to interfere with the pilots’ vision of the fight.

  Without any grenades or other modern source of creating a smoke screen, the humans had to get creative. One of the Utah soldiers had suggested tying drums of used motor oil over the railings of the bridges with strong cables, before lighting them just as the horde approached. Massive piles of debris, rubbish, and especially tires, were accumulated under the bridges and would be ignited once the hunter-attack on the walls began. Jack had insisted on a practice run three days earlier, and the smoke had been thick enough to cut with a knife. A stiff wind might affect the smoke screen, but even then it would probably still interfere with the pilot’s vision enough to keep them from seeing the full disaster everyone hoped the monsters would be experiencing by this point in the battle. Just to be safe, Jack nearly doubled the amount of oil, tires, and debris that had been used in the test.